#lady sheriff series | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

punkshort · 9 months ago

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somewhere to run | 10. austin

Pairing: sheriff!Joel x f!reader

Chapter Summary: You and Joel travel to Austin to meet with a lawyer.

Chapter Warnings: language, angst, hurt/comfort, flirting, sexual tension, emotional abuse, infidelity, some recapping of DV and SA situations but nothing new, smut (18+ MDNI), unprotected (reader previously mentions she's on bc) piv sex

WC: 6.6K

A/N: I have started a notification blog - @punkshort-notifs if you are interested in following for fic updates (but I will be keeping the tag list for this series until it is over)

Series Masterlist

One Month Later

Life carried on the way it always does. Without permission, regardless of any pain or suffering, it always remained a constant. Whether you were present or not, whether you wanted to acknowledge it or hide from it, it didn't matter, because life always carried on.

The first week was the worst. A week of what you could only describe as depression. A week of being alone. Safe, but terribly alone. Going to work helped distract you, until he came in for lunch like always and it felt like your heart was being torn in two all over again. And you could tell it hurt him, too, but you both seemed willing to withstand the pain over not seeing each other at all. Because even though it hurt, it was a reminder you were alive. A reminder that you could still care enough about somebody else, despite everything.

The second week was when you could no longer smell him in your bed. You woke up one morning, eyes barely even open as you searched around the pillowcase, then the sheets, grabbing and pulling at the fabric, desperate to seek out his scent to no avail.

The third week was when you finally didn't have to fight the urge to call or text him, even though he said you could, you knew it would just make things harder. And he must have agreed because he didn't reach out, either.

The fourth week was when you began to feel like you were finally coming out of your slump. You could go to the grocery store or pharmacy and didn't feel your heart skip a beat, you didn't scan the parking lot for his truck in the hopes of running into him. You didn't stop thinking about him, but it just hurt less. That is, until you ran into Hailey coming back from work one evening.

She was out on the sidewalk, cleaning up some garbage from the picnic tables in front of the pizzeria when you waved and caught her eye. You could immediately tell something was wrong by the pained smile she gave you.

"Hey," she said, the smile not reaching her eyes as she leaned up against her broom.

"What's going on?" you asked her. "Haven't seen you in a while."

"Yeah, I know, sorry. Work's been-" she waved in the direction of the propped open door and shook her head. "But I've been meaning to talk to you."

"Oh?"

"It's about book club," she said, dropping her gaze to the ground. "And I just want to let you know, I voted against it-"

"They don't want me back, do they?" you offered, trying to make it easier for her. She sighed and shook her head.

"It's all so stupid, I'm sorry," she said, looking up at you again. "Nikki's got all those old ladies wrapped around her finger and they're just pissed Joel dumped her for... well, y'know."

"They know we aren't together, right? I mean, I'm married..." you trailed off, not wishing to go into too much detail when you knew eventually when you went to court, all your dirty laundry would be aired.

"Yeah, they do. Still, they blame you, and it's stupid, like I said. They should be mad at Joel, it's not like it's your fault, and I swear I tried explaining that-"

"It's okay," you said, holding up your hand and giving her a sad smile. "I appreciate it, but it's fine. I have a lot coming up, anyway. I won't find that much time to read."

"But we can still hang out! Do you wanna go get drinks this weekend? Or maybe see a movie?" Hailey asked, and you could tell she genuinely felt bad.

"Yeah, either of those sound great," you said. "I'll text you and we can figure something out."

You made a hasty exit and dragged yourself up the stairs to your apartment. Even though you probably wouldn't have continued to go, the rejection still stung.

For a while, the silence was deafening. Without a TV to even distract you, leaving you with endless amounts of time to overthink, you were worried you were going insane. You lucked out recently and found a decent TV at a thrift store, so you at least had something to occupy your time, although you knew it would be short lived. In a couple days, you had an appointment to meet with a law firm in Austin. An appointment Joel had set up and offered to attend with you, and at the time, you were so desperate for anything to do with him, you agreed, but now you were wondering if that was a bad idea. Almost two hours in the car alone with Joel? No, that didn't seem like a good idea at all.

"Whadd'ya mean, you wanna drive separate?" Joel asked as you refilled his coffee. "That doesn't make any sense. Waste of gas."

"Yeah, but I was thinking of staying an extra day. Check out the city," you lied, turning your back to him so he wouldn't be able to see through you.

"Alone?"

You cringed at the word, but nodded. The little dinner bell rang in the window and your eyes jumped up just in time to see Thor put Joel's sandwich on the small shelf. You grabbed the plate and set it down in front of him, his eyes still boring into you, waiting for a better explanation.

"I think it'll just be easier," you said quietly, the words only meant for his ears. When he connected the dots, he leaned back in his chair and nodded.

"Oh," he said, gaze drifting down to his food. "That's a shame. I was lookin' forward to it."

"I'm sorry," you told him, grabbing a rag and pretending to wipe down the counter so your conversation didn't invite gossip and speculation. "So was I. That's the problem."

"And if I promise to behave myself, would you reconsider?" he teased, finally making you smile a little.

"I think you're incapable of behaving yourself, Sheriff," you replied, making him chuckle.

This was what your relationship had been reduced to: quick, flirty exchanges over coffee and turkey clubs. You supposed it was better than nothing.

"C'mon, it's just a couple hours. If you want, you can nap or listen to music," he said, picking up his sandwich and taking a bite.

"Fine," you relented, but only because once you offered taking two cars out loud, you realized how stupid it sounded.

"Pick you up at 7?" he asked around a mouth full of food.

"Sure. Do I need to prepare anything? I've never gotten this far in the process before," you told him, suddenly feeling nervous.

"Nope. Helen already sent over all the reports and once the process gets started, they'll reach out to whatever hospital you went to back in Philly to get your emergency room medical reports," he explained, and you nodded along, feeling fidgety. "I'm sure they'll do some more digging while they're at it. Reach out to his police captain and all that."

"Right," you said, biting your nail.

"One step at a time, alright?" he told you softly, picking up on your nerves. "You already did your part, now let the lawyers do theirs."

"But I'll have to testify," you reminded him, and he slowly nodded.

"Most likely, yes. You don't have to, but it'll help your case if you do."

"And he'll be there?" you asked, wringing the towel between your hands.

"Yeah, he'll be there," Joel said, watching your face fall. "But I'll be there, too. You just look at me when the time comes, don't look at him."

"Okay," you said, taking a deep breath. You knew this would be hard, but you also knew it was necessary. "And this lawyer - they can help me get a divorce?"

"Yeah," he said with a nod, and you breathed a sigh of relief.

"Okay," you said again. You forced yourself to smile even though the anxiety was already creeping up. "I can do this," you told him, trying to sound confident.

"Hell yes, you can do this," he replied. "That's my girl," he added, picking up his sandwich then pausing before taking a bite. He glanced up at you and gave you half a smirk when he noticed the look on your face at the term of endearment. "Sorry, I'll behave."

You had initially dreaded waking up so early, but after the restless night's sleep you ended up having, it turned out it didn't make much of a difference. Your appointment was at 9:30 and it took about two hours to get to Austin, so Joel arriving at 7am gave you a decent cushion in case there was traffic.

Already two cups of coffee down, you poured the rest into a travel thermos and grabbed your purse before jogging lightly down your stairs. You locked your door and turned towards the street to find Joel's truck parked right out front. Glancing around, you noticed it was fairly quiet still, which was a relief. Joel didn't have to take you to see a lawyer. His job was technically done until the trial. He was doing this for you, to give you some support and advice and it would be ideal if you could keep people from gossiping about it for as long as possible.

"Mornin'," he greeted you with a lazy smile, which perked right up when you handed him the thermos. "Oh, you're an angel, baby," he murmured, taking a sip with an appreciative groan. You took a deep breath and forced yourself to focus on your seatbelt. Less than two minutes and he already had you squirming in your seat.

The first hour of the trip actually turned out to be relatively quiet. You sat in a comfortable silence, listening to the radio while Joel hummed along and tapped the steering wheel and if you closed your eyes, you could imagine the scene just a little differently. Instead of Joel taking you to see a lawyer in Austin so you could press charges and divorce your abusive husband, you imagined you were taking a road trip together. Maybe with no destination in mind: just the two of you and the open road, stopping whenever you saw fit to explore and staying at roadside motels with stiff sheets and shag carpets, limbs tangled together as you panted into each other's mouths. No secrets. No drama. You smiled to yourself, the fantasy giving you a pleasant reminder of what you could have if you just stayed strong.

"What're you smilin' for?" he asked, and your eyes opened to look at him.

"Nothing," you said, and he clicked his tongue against his teeth. God, you missed that tongue and what it could do.

"When all this is over, do you think we can take a road trip together?" you asked him, and his eyebrows raised in surprise.

"Yeah, 'course we can," he replied, glancing over at you briefly before looking back at the road. "Where did you wanna go?"

"Doesn't matter," you said, rolling the back of your head against the seat. "Just wanna be with you," you added, softer this time. He looked over at you again, examining your face quickly before focusing back on the road.

"Me too, baby," he said, just as softly.

Joel stopped at a gas station just outside the city to fuel up and stretch your legs. After using the restroom, you wandered up and down the aisles while Joel pumped gas just outside. You were the only one in the store, aside from the sleazy cashier with greasy hair and nicotine stained teeth leering at you every time you crossed his field of vision.

You decided on a couple waters and some sugary pastries and made your way up to the front, forcing a polite smile for the cashier, whose eyes were greedily raking up and down your frame as you approached. You were wearing a modest dress with a cardigan, doing your best to look put together for your appointment, but that didn't stop the cashier's eyes from roaming.

"That all?" he asked as he began to ring you up. You nodded and hummed before glancing out the window, watching as Joel replaced the nozzle on the pump.

"$8.32," he told you, his eyes dropping to your chest as you pulled out a ten dollar bill from your wallet and handed it to him. Your fingertips tapped impatiently on the counter as he slowly counted out your change, clearly trying to prolong the interaction longer than necessary. When it appeared he was ready to hand over the money, you held your hand out, but he pulled your change back a bit and leaned forward.

"You from 'round here?"

"No, just passing through," you said, lifting your hand again, but he clenched your change in his fist.

"What's a pretty girl like you doin' out here all by yourself?" he sneered, his hand dropping below the counter to not so subtly adjust himself in his pants. You made a disgusted face and he smirked.

"She ain't alone," Joel's deep voice rang out from behind you. The cashier's eyes drifted over your shoulder and looked like he was about to make a snide comment when you felt Joel's hand around your waist. His eyes fell to Joel's belt and saw the badge and gun and the smirk he was sporting a moment ago vanished. He quickly handed you back your change and busied himself with organizing the cigarettes while Joel tugged on your waist, urging you to back towards the parking lot.

"And you wanted to drive separate," Joel teased as he led you towards his truck. He opened the passenger door and stepped back so you could get in but you paused and looked up at him. His forehead crinkled as he grinned, his eyes squinting in the sun and all you wanted to do was kiss him and never stop.

"What?" he finally asked when you didn't make a move to get into the car.

"I really want to kiss you right now," you murmured, and you watched the grin slip from his face and his eyes flick down to your mouth.

"We can't," he replied, his voice pained as his gaze continued to drift from your eyes to your lips.

"I know," you sighed. Instead, you stood on your tiptoes to press a chaste kiss on the corner of his mouth, your lips lingering a moment longer than you should have before climbing into his truck. His breathing stuttered, the feeling of your lips on his skin again sending him into a tailspin. He took a deep breath and looked up at you in the cab, putting on your seatbelt.

"Soon," he told you, giving your leg a squeeze before closing the door.

"So you mentioned you know some of these lawyers?" you asked him as he drove through downtown Austin.

"Yeah, I've dealt with this law firm a lot on some cases over the years. They're good people, as far as lawyers go," he joked before making a right hand turn. "I asked to meet with one of the women. Her name's Madeline. She's nice. Been there a real long time. Thought you'd feel more comfortable with that," he said, and you nodded.

"Thank you," you told him for maybe the twentieth time that day. You were convinced if not for Joel, you never would have made it this far. You would have had no idea where to even begin, but he knew the answers to all those questions and helped give you the confidence you so desperately needed.

Your hands began to shake and your stomach felt like it was in knots as the two of you walked up to the front doors of the impressive four-story building. Men and women streamed in and out of the doors, most dressed in suits and pencil skirts and talking on their phones hurriedly. You swallowed the lump in your throat once you got to the front of the building, but Joel held the door open for you with a reassuring smile.

"Don't be nervous, it'll be alright," he murmured as you walked up to the large receptionist desk that housed two women with headsets on, typing furiously into their computers. One looked up and caught your eye, giving you a friendly smile.

"Mornin'," Joel said, telling the young woman your name and appointment time. She glanced at her computer and nodded before looking back up at you both with another smile.

"I'll let her know you're here, you can take a seat. It shouldn't be very long," the woman said, casting Joel one more admiring glance before she turned back to her phone and dialed a number.

Joel led you over to some plush couches and chairs and you nervously picked up an old magazine. You skimmed through it, just looking for something to occupy your hands as you waited. He sat down next to you, then inched closer so he could rest his arm along the back of the couch. It felt like he was wrapping his arms around you without actually touching you, and it gave you a temporary sense of peace.

After a few minutes of listening to the receptionists answer the phones and transfer calls, you finally heard your name and Joel's. You both looked up to find a thin, middle aged woman with short, blonde hair and glasses and a kind smile waiting for you.

"Maddy," Joel said warmly, and the hairs on the back of your neck went up. He wouldn't have asked an ex-girlfriend to represent you, would he?

"Joel, long time no see," she said, giving him a kiss on the cheek before introducing herself to you and shaking your hand.

"That's usually a good thing," he reminded her as the two of you followed her down a long hallway, passing by a few empty conference rooms and closed doors that presumably lead to offices.

"Yes, very true," she agreed with a chuckle before stopping in front of her office. She extended an arm, inviting the two of you to enter first before she followed and closed the door behind her.

"How's Tracy?" Joel asked, glancing at a photo on her desk as you sat down.

"She's great. It's our ten year anniversary this summer. We're planning a cruise," she said, settling into her desk chair and shooting you a smile.

Okay, so probably not an ex.

"Alright, let's not waste any time. I know you drove a long way to get here," Madeline said, clasping her hands together on her desk and giving you another smile. She gave off a positive energy, and you could feel yourself loosening up. "I read over everything Joel sent over so I know the basics, and I am so sorry for everything you've had to endure," she said, her eyes softening. "But can you explain to me why you've never tried to come forward before? Trust me, his lawyer will bring it up."

"Well, I have tried," you began, your fingers tangling together in your lap. "I've gone to the police a handful of times but every time I thought I was making progress, Patrick would do something - call in a favor, I don't know," you said with a shrug. "And my police reports magically disappeared. I've gone to the hospital on several occasions-"

"That's right, I did read that. Which hospital?" she asked, picking up a pen, the tip hovering over a legal pad.

"There were a few different ones," you said, then rattled off the names and approximate dates you visited each hospital.

"Okay. We'll reach out and get copies of those records for the trial," she said, dropping the pen and looking at you to continue.

You went on to tell her about your experience with the police back in Philadelphia and how angry Patrick would get after those visits. You told her about his disappearances for days at a time and how he would come home in a haze, no doubt with alcohol and some type of drug in his veins, how those were the times he hurt you the most.

By the time you got to the part in your story where you packed a bag and left Philadelphia during one of Patrick's benders, you felt a lot more at ease. Your nerves were gone and Madeline's comforting gaze made it so much easier to tell her everything.

"So the next step in the process is discovery. Our team here is going to be digging up dirt back in Philly, and I am sure Patrick's lawyer is already doing the same thing," she said, putting down her pen and looking at you over her glasses. "That being said: is there anything I need to know? I don't like surprises in court. I don't care if you ever smoked weed or pushed him back, I just need to know so I can get ahead of it." You quickly shook your head.

"No, I've never tried drugs and I never hit him back." You glanced over at Joel for the first time and found him staring at you with a look in his eye that made you believe you were thinking about the same thing. After a moment, you turned back to Madeline, about to open your mouth to speak when Joel cut you off.

"There's one more thing," he said, sitting up straighter in his chair. She looked at him curiously, clearly not expecting him to have anything to add. "We, uh," he cleared his throat and glanced over at you. "We had a brief, personal relationship," he said. Madeline sat back in her chair and you could have sworn she was glaring at him. "It's over. It was just once," he continued, and you nodded quickly, trying to help him out.

"Nobody knows, either," you told her, drawing her gaze back onto you. "Patrick had his suspicions, but he also accused me of sleeping with two cooks from work, which is untrue," you clarified, "he's just jealous and angry."

"How can you be sure nobody knows?" she asked, and you paused.

"W-well, nobody..." you trailed off, looking at Joel for help.

"It's a small town, Maddy. If people knew, they'd be talkin'. Trust me," he said, rolling his eyes. "The most anyone knows is I had a little crush on her, but nothin' more."

"Besides. Patrick's cheated on me for years. I'm not an idiot, I could smell the perfume on his jacket and found the condom wrappers in his pants pocket," you told her, but she shook her head.

"This is a little different, hun," she said, leaning forward. "Joel's the town sheriff. He arrested Patrick and broke his nose. It's going to look like he had ulterior motives," she said, lifting up a piece of paper in front of her to double check her notes.

"I didn't break his nose, the table broke his nose. It was self-defense. The guy's got nothin'," Joel scoffed.

"Yeah you're probably right, but he's still going to make your life a living hell in court," Madeline said. "You looking for representation, too?"

"What?!" you exclaimed, turning in your seat to look at Joel. "He's suing you?"

"Yeah, it's no big deal. Happens from time to time, nothin' ever comes from it," he said casually.

"Why didn't you tell me?" you asked, your voice softening.

"Didn't wanna worry you. You gotta focus on this," he said, pointing to Madeline. "The other shit doesn't matter."

You wanted to argue with him but you knew your time was running short, so you let it go.

"Well at least you had the good sense not to take her statement," she said, glancing down at the papers before her. "Let's just hope it doesn't come up, and if it does, I'll be prepared," she said, making a note to herself before giving you her attention again. "I'll do my best to fast track this and set a court date. I'll have my team call his superior officer and we'll run some checks on him, call the hospitals, and start building your case. I'll be in touch soon about any potential witnesses you can bring to the stand that you trust. Anybody who might have witnessed Patrick abusing you, even if he was just yelling or twisting your arm. People you confided in. Anybody you might think can help, start thinking about it now and gathering contact info, okay?"

"Okay," you said firmly. You were starting to feel better, like this was the beginning of the end. And you had the feeling that Madeline was the right person to fight for you. She seemed honest and straight forward, understanding yet tough. This was someone who would give you your freedom back.

"And I can get a divorce?" you asked, and she nodded.

"Yes, I'm going to file the petition this afternoon and he will be served the papers," she explained. "If he contests it, we can cross that bridge when we come to it, but I'm hoping with all the fire we're throwing at him, he won't want to put up a fight."

"Thank you," you breathed, feeling even more at ease now that something was actually happening today. Any amount of progress at this point made you feel good.

You stayed another hour to review an endless amount of paperwork: the contract with the law firm, reviewing your statement for any inaccuracies, initialing and dating next to so many paragraphs on the petition to be filed that your eyes were going blurry by the end.

As you both stood up to follow Madeline out of her office, you stopped short.

"Wait, what about payment? I don't think we discussed legal fees in the contract," you said, frowning as you pulled your copy of the contract out from under your arm.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I thought Joel already told you," she said, glancing over at Joel, who dropped his gaze to his shoes. "The partners picked your case pro bono. The firm has to do a certain number each year and Joel suggested to a few of the right people that your case should be considered."

Your eyes widened and your jaw dropped.

"Are you kidding me?" you whispered in shock, trying to fight the tears that were beginning to spring up. You looked at Joel but he averted his gaze before awkwardly clearing his throat.

"It's no big deal-" he began, but you cut him off.

"No, it is a big deal," you told him, and he clamped his mouth shut. Madeline's eyes flicked between the two of you for a moment, watching as you tried and failed to come up with the right words to convey your gratitude.

"The firm is happy to represent you, hun," Madeline said, breaking the silence. "We're gonna make sure this guy gets what's coming to him, understand?"

You tore your eyes away from Joel, who was finding it difficult to look anywhere but the floor.

"Thank you. Thank you so much," you told her, and she smiled before extending her arm towards the door.

As you walked towards the lobby, she was reminding you to expect a call in a few days with an update and to have a list of contacts ready for her, but you just nodded along numbly, barely listening.

Joel had already gone above and beyond by finding you a good lawyer and coming with you for support, but to also convince them to handle your legal fees? He didn't have to do any of this, but he did, and he didn't expect anything in return. Nobody had ever expressed so much concern about you before. And as you walked in silence towards the parking garage, you realized there could only be one explanation. There could only be one reason why he would do so much, and the thought had your heart pounding in your chest.

You drove in silence for a while, the atmosphere in the truck tense. He tried putting music on but you couldn't focus on anything other than everything that happened in the past few hours. Then you started to go back even further: cleaning your apartment and finding you furniture after Patrick vandalized it, walking you home during a rain storm, fixing your fucking sink when you had barely spoken two sentences to him. You rolled your head to the side, watching him as he focused on the freeway, his grip tight around the steering wheel.

"Look at me," you said quietly, and you saw a muscle in his jaw twitch. After too long of a pause, he just said one word.

"Can't."

"Why not?"

"I'm drivin'."

"Bullshit," you said, and watched his throat bob as he swallowed nervously. You continued to stare him down, willing him to look at you, needing to see into his eyes to confirm your suspicion.

"Please, Joel," you finally said, your voice small. You could see the conflict in his face. The way his lips formed a hard line and his brows pinched together as he fought the urge, but once again he found he couldn't say no.

Slowly, he pulled his gaze off the road and forced himself to look at you. Your lips parted as you looked right through him and he knew right then and there he was fucked.

"Pull over," you mumbled, and he just nodded. He could feel the heat of your gaze on him as he took the nearest exit and pulled into a parking lot of what appeared to be an abandoned department store.

He didn't need to ask and you didn't bother to explain.

Once he parked, doing his best to choose a secluded spot, you each ripped off your seatbelts. He reached down to pull the lever below his seat and slid it back as far as it would go and in broad daylight, you climbed over the console to straddle his lap. His hands flew to your hips as you gripped the sides of his face, searching his eyes frantically before your mouth crashed down over his with a moan.

Joel was normally a strong man, but something about you always made him so weak. Weak and selfish and desperate and he wouldn't have it any other way. That's why, even though he knew it was a mistake, he kissed you back. Your tongues tangled together and when your hands slid up to his hair, he was done for. You were too warm and tasted too sweet and felt too fucking good, it was a miracle he came to his senses when your hand dropped down between you to land on his belt and he managed to pull away.

"That's not why I did all this," he said, each of you panting for air. "I didn't do it so I could fuck you."

"I know," you assured him, cupping the back of his neck. "I know why you did it."

He gazed up at you and slowly nodded.

"Reckon it's pretty obvious, huh?" he said softly, toying with the hem of your dress.

You didn't say anything in return. Instead, you lowered your mouth hungrily over his and he happily obliged. And when your hand drifted back down to his belt, he didn't stop you. He couldn't deny it any longer. He tried, he really did, but it was hopeless.

He wouldn't say the words out loud, and you were grateful. Because if he had, you weren't sure you would be able to convince yourself this was a one-time thing. Madeline's disapproving glare was seared into the back of your mind, her comments about Joel's own lawsuit still very much a concern, but when you lowered yourself onto him, each of you groaning your need into each other's mouths as you stretched around him, it all became a distant memory.

"Missed you so much," you mumbled against his skin as your mouth dragged down his jaw. You rolled your hips, slowly at first, but picked up the pace when you remembered you were in the middle of a parking lot and didn't have much time. "You feel so good," you continued, feeling his arms tense around you as he tried to hold himself back. "Think about you all the time. Especially in bed - ah!" you cried out when he began bucking up into you.

"Yeah? You touch yourself when you think about me?" he grunted in your ear, and your eyes rolled to the back of your head as you nodded. His hands gripped your waist, guiding your movements up and down while his mouth ghosted over your chest, wishing more than ever he could glide his tongue over your nipples, but he was too aware of where you were. He settled for yanking the sleeve of your dress down, exposing your shoulder so his teeth and facial hair could leave little red marks, hidden from view.

"Can't get enough of you, can't fuckin' stay away," he groaned, watching as you circled your hips, greedily chasing your own pleasure. Your arm shot out to the side, seeking leverage against the now foggy window, your fingers leaving telltale streaks as your hand slowly dragged downwards so when he got into his truck the next morning, he would see the ghost of your hand in the early morning dew.

"Joel," you whined, tossing your head back while you began to bounce, your ass accidentally beeping the horn and making you both laugh. Nothing could harm you here. Not when you had each other. Not when you had the feel of his rough hands over your skin and his soft lips against your mouth.

"You're so beautiful," he murmured, his arms wrapped around you, holding you close. "C'mon, baby. Want you to feel me tomorrow," he said, lifting his hips up to meet yours, bringing you closer and closer to the edge.

You gasped as your body went rigid, a white hot heat ripping through you while your legs began to shake and you whimpered his name over and over. You heard Joel groan and say something, probably a warning he was close, but you couldn't be sure. You nodded and mumbled some encouragement but your mind was still too fuzzy and your ears were practically ringing from the force of your orgasm. But when his teeth sunk into your shoulder, the slight pain snapped you out of it. His arms wrapped tightly around your waist, pulling you down firmly onto his lap until his body stilled and he grunted into your skin.

You rested your cheek on the top of his head while his face stayed buried in your chest, both of you fighting for air as reality slowly began to sink in.

"Guess I didn't behave myself," he finally said with a chuckle. You grinned and lazily raised your head up so you could look at him.

"I think I'll take the blame for this one," you said before lifting off of him with a little gasp and moving your underwear back in place. You were about to swing your leg back over to your seat when he stopped you.

"Just another minute," he said, his hands mindlessly sliding up and down your thighs, and you draped your arms around his neck.

"We shouldn't do this again," you finally said, breaking the spell. He sighed and nodded but his hands continued to glide up and down your legs.

"I know."

You cupped his face and tilted his chin up to look at you. Your thumbs brushed over his cheeks as you stared into his eyes, still seeing everything he didn't have the courage to say. Leaning down, you pressed a tender kiss against his lips, then rested your foreheads together.

"Thank you, Joel."

"You're welcome, baby."

As promised, a few days later, Madeline's secretary reached out for a list of contacts that could be called upon to support your case. You didn't have many people in your corner, but you gave her your cousin's information back in Philadelphia, an old co-worker who you had partially confided in when the abuse started, a few friends who had noticed bruises but you had made up excuses for them at the time, and you reluctantly gave your mother's information, with the note to discuss with you first before contacting her.

You had hoped Madeline wouldn't want to call on your mother to testify. You hadn't spoken to her since you ran away to Texas, and given the way she responded when you told her what Patrick was doing, you weren't confident she would be a good witness. But it was still someone from your past who you confided in, and that was what Madeline was looking for: a trail of evidence, cries for help, anything to prove the most recent incident was not a one off situation.

"Madeline called me today," you told Joel after picking up his empty plate.

"Oh, yeah?" he asked, wiping his mouth with a napkin.

"She reviewed all the contacts I gave to her secretary and she scheduled another appointment for next week."

"Great, what day?" he asked, pulling out his phone.

"Tuesday," you said, replacing his coffee with a glass of ice water. He glanced up at you and quirked an eyebrow. "You drink too much caffeine," you explained, and he grinned.

"Ah, shit. I have a thing at Sarah's school that day. Lemme see if I can reschedule it-"

"No, go to Sarah's school, I wasn't telling you so you would come with me, I was just... letting you know," you said with a shrug.

"You sure?" he questioned, and you nodded.

"I'm sure. I know how to get there now and I feel comfortable with Madeline. I swear, I'll be fine," you told him. He put his phone down on the counter and thought for a moment before leaning forward and lowering his voice.

"This ain't 'bout what happened last time, is it?"

"No!" you said in surprise, and he looked relieved. "Not at all. I'm just trying to... I don't know, take control of my life, I guess?" He nodded but he still looked confused. "What I mean is, I think it's important I do some things for myself. Not that I don't appreciate-"

"I get it," he said with a chuckle as he stood up from his stool. "You just let me know if you change your mind."

"Okay," you replied with a smile, but stopped him when you realized he hadn't touched his water. You held the glass out to him and he stared at it, then looked at you with a sigh before plucking it from your grip and downing the whole thing in one gulp.

"Happy?"

"Very," you said with a grin, and watched him as he walked towards the front door, stopping briefly to chat with Maria before heading back to work.

Joel shoved his hands into the pockets of his dress pants as he walked back to the station, nodding to a few people along the way. He couldn't stop his gaze from traveling up to the window above the pizza place every time he walked by, smiling to himself when he noticed a new plant in your window.

The bullpen sounded quiet as Joel made his way back to his office. He liked quiet days. That was always a good day, in his book. He sat down in his chair with a huff, the little orange light on his desk phone blinking angrily at him, indicating a voicemail. He picked up the phone and punched in his passcode. He was reaching for a pen when the voice on the other end of the phone made him freeze.

"Joel, it's Maddy. Give me a call back when you get this, it's urgent."

Taglist: @harriedandharassed@merz-8@sarap-77@nandan11@anoverwhelmingdin@fandomscollide@survivingandenduring@honeyedmiller@pedropascalsbbg@southernbe@pedrosfanny@gobaaby-blog-blog @eloquentdreamer @yomiyasxx @mrsparknuts@missladym1981@spacedoutdaydreamer @cosmic006533-blog @prettyinpunk85@maried01 @sunnyskyapplepie @sawymredfox@gobaaby-blog-blog@stevie75@mxtokko@sleepylunarwolf@lizzie-cakes@laurrrra@annieispunk@here4thedilfs @navystandardheatingoilcap @slugz-writes-shit@devilbat@ashleyfilm@scp116@tragerlover@iveseenstrangerthings50 @yvonneeeee @brittmb115@lulawantmula@abbysgirlll@ro-nahime-things@whxtedreams@ashhlsstuff@little-pookie@serenadingtigers@paleidiot@ashy-kit@lizlil@detectivejuliuspepperwood@buckyispunk @fckinel @sarahhxx03 @krispeenuggiez @flippittygibbitts@picketniffler@pedroslittlelady

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cevansbrat0007 · 10 months ago

Text

Sweet Tooth

Summary: Ari gets inventive when he finds himself in the doghouse with you. Be sure to check out the follow-up drabble, Sweet Tooth Deluxe!

Warnings: Smut, Mature Themes, Ari Being A Menace, Arch Nemesis', Dominant Ari, Aprons, Arguments, Oral Sex (fem rec mentioned), Spanking (mentioned), Pussy spanking (mentioned), Pet Names, Cursing, Violent Thoughts, Minors DNI

A/N: Written for @honeygngergemini. Part of my Sweet Renegades Series. Semi-proofread, not beta'd. All mistakes are my own. Likes, comments, and reblogs are always appreciated. Thanks for reading!

Ari leans back in his chair, one long leg coming to rest atop his knee as he levels a hard look at Officer Milton Foster. He scrubs a tired hand over his face, his mind working overtime to process what the young man had just said.

“But that makes zero fucking sense.” He grumbles, groaning when he sees Milton just shake his head.

“Aye, man.” The dark-haired deputy throws up his hands. “You asked me where I thought you went wrong and I told you.” He turns in his office chair to spare a quick glance at his computer. “Do not shoot the messenger.”

“No one’s being shot, alright? I just don’t get the logic behind any of the shit you just said.”

Couple that with the fact that you’d been icing him out for the past several days for reasons unbeknownst to him – which had left him in a god awful mood. He missed you. Your laugh, your warmth, your smile.

All of it.

Not to mention that deliciously curvy body that had been keeping him warm at night. He really missed that. More than than anything he needed a fucking kiss.

But you were ignoring him. And Ari had discovered pretty quickly that he didn’t like any of it. Not one bit.

So, he’d turned to what he felt like was his only ally in this god-forsaken town: the newly minted sheriff’s deputy, Milton Foster.

“So you’re really trying to tell me that the reason my woman is pissed at me is because I ate Charline Marshall’s pecan pie at the town potluck, liked it, and asked for seconds.” Ari smooths an annoyed hand over his bearded face. Trying to understand Bell’s Creek’s local politics could really do a number on a person.

“And don’t forget that she purposely dropped your lady’s bramble berry pie on the ground.” Milton does a quick spin in his chair. “She tried to pretend it was an accident, but most of us know better. Charline Marshall has eyes for you and I think she might be ready to make it known.”

“I’m pretty sure that I couldn’t even pick that woman out of a lineup.”

Milton simply shrugs before taking another spin in his desk chair. “You’ve got a lot of admirers, Mr. Bounty Hunter. A man like you blows into town…well, you’re downright exotic. Every single red-blooded woman under 75 wants a taste.”

Ari visibly shudders before crossing his legs at the ankle. He didn’t want anyone else. This particularly surly Bounty Hunter wanted you. He only wanted to eat your food. Enjoy your sweets. Fall to his knees and devour the fuck out of your pretty little pussy.

“Hard pass, buddy.” Your lawman sighs. “I didn’t know shit about the pie incident. I mean, how could I when she was barely talking to me or anyone at that party?”

“Not saying it’s your fault, big guy. Logically, what would you have been able to do if she had told you?”

Ari looks up at him, his piercing blue gaze never once leaving the young deputy’s. “I would’ve taken her back to my place and spent the rest of the night making her feel better. I would’ve done everything in my power to take my girl’s mind off that petty shit.”

“Mmm.” Milton murmurs as understanding suddenly dawns. “I really don’t wanna get too deep in your business, but your lady is like a sister to me.” He leans back in his chair so that he can kick his feet up on his desk. “We used to play on the playground together as kids. And full disclosure, she used to beat my ass.” The deputy chuckles as he begins to recount all the way you used to be a tiny force of nature.

“I…can see that.”

“Yeah. Yeah. Anyway, I think your original plan was a good one.”

“Meaning?” Ari leans over to take a sip of his now cold coffee. It tasted like shit anyway, even when it was hot. In fact he longed for you, his BIrd, to make him one of your little caffeine-infused concoctions – preferably while wearing nothing but his shirt.

So he could also take a bite out of that luscious ass while you refreshed his mug. After all, he was a man who prided himself on his ability to multitask.

“Meaning, you need to find a way to distract her while making your point.”

“Meaning?”

“Meaning, you’re a smart fuckin’ guy who set his sights on someone who could easily be the most stubborn woman in the whole damned state.” A smirking Milton offers up a salute with his can of Dr. Pepper. “That’s for you to figure out. All I can do at this point is wish you luck.”

“Thanks.” Ari grunts, wishing that he had a better idea of what to do with you.

Oh, rest assured that he’d figure it out. You were too important to him not to. He just hoped you’d find it in your heart to take it easy on him for his mistake.

The Next Day

You wake up to the smell of cooking sausage wafting into your room. It makes you smile as you stretch your arms over your head. Your stomach growls in agreement, subtly reminding you that you’d neglected to make dinner last night.

Oops. You hadn’t meant to forget, it had just happened. Normally you would end your night with speaking to your Beast of a Bounty Hunter, who always made sure you ate. But lately, you have been both mad at him and embarrassed.

Because at a recent town potluck, Ari had eaten your rival’s pecan pie. Now, you weren’t children, but this had also been after she’d purposely sabotaged your own dessert by accidentally dropping it on the ground.

Charline pretended that it had been a mistake. But the way you’d witnessed her laugh after the fact. And then she’d fed your man, reveling in every minute. You’d known her pecan pie was dry, but Ari had seemed to enjoy it. So much so that he’d asked for a second piece.

Which was fine, except it had hurt your feelings. And you hadn’t been sure how to relay exactly relay that fact either. So you’d clamped down. You’d bottled up.

And as a result, your poor, sweet man was suffering. Which meant you needed to apologize. But you weren’t quite sure how to go about it. As you sit up, you vow to yourself to give him a call today. As soon as you sat down and enjoyed your breakfast.

And then it occurs to you. You weren’t the one cooking. Which meant someone was in your house.

You spring out of bed and grab your Louisville Slugger that you always kept nearby. Taking a deep breath, you quietly make your way down the stairs, your trusty bat poised to take a swing at whatever moron who’d chosen to take up residence in your kitchen.

Baring your teeth, you crest around the corner on bare feet, ready to make your presence known.

“You gonna hit me, Bird?” Ari muses as he adds a dash of salt, followed by pepper to whatever it is he’s got cooking in the skillet. Your flippin' skillet. “Is that really how this ends? You take me out while I’m being kind enough to whip us up some breakfast?”

Momentarily flummoxed you find yourself lowering your weapon in favor of taking in the scene before you. This man – your Bounty Hunter – was currently standing in your kitchen clad in nothing but an apron.

Your apron. And yet somehow it fit him better

“Wh–what are you doing?” You ask him, letting your baseball bat clatter to the floor at your feet. You wouldn’t need it. You were safe with this man, but only to a point. “And how’d you get in?” You hadn’t given him a key yet.

That was supposed to be a present for later.

“Eh.” Ari shrugs, flipping a pancake with surprising skill. “Maybe I saw my gift and swiped it after the potluck. Maybe you weren’t listening to me and I couldn’t get a read on you, so I had to be an asshole and make an executive decision.” He turns away from you to drop a finished pancake on a plate, giving you a fantastic view of his perfectly muscled ass.

“You mad?”

“N-no.” You respond as you feel your thighs clench. God, how you wished that you’d come down here wearing pants. “I was actually planning to reach out to you today. Can I ask what you’re doing?” You shiver as you feel your thighs grow damp, your traitorous pussy working against you.

You should be mad that your Beast had broken into your house. Instead you were happy to see him with a much deserved apology ready to fall from your lips.

“Making you breakfast. Chocolate chip pancakes, eggs, and sausage.” He adds another delicious pancake to the stack. “I’m gonna feed you, and then I’m gonna fuck you, and make you rethink ever ignoring me again.” He purrs, the intoxicating rumble coming from somewhere deep in his chest.

Fuck you were so wet it was almost embarrasing.

“I’ve earned the rights to that tight little pussy, baby. And when I make a mistake like I did with that goddamned Charline, I want you to tell me.” Ari turns off the range, pulling the food off the heat and onto a plate.

“I’m sorry.” You murmur, both hating and loving the way your nipples pebble beneath the thin fabric of your oversized t-shirts. Actually, it was one of his. A detail he also seemed to notice. “How can I make it up to you?”

Ari studies you for a moment, his handsome face tilting to the side. And then your eyes stray to the sight of his impressive erection. You watch as one of his big hands reaches down to fist his hard cock, pumping it once. Twice.

“You can start by going back upstairs. I want you naked, on all fours. I want to come up there and feast my eyes on your soaking wet cunt.” His heated gaze bores into your own, making your already drenched core spasm one more. “And you’d better be wet for me, otherwise I’m gonna spank it. And you.”

“O-okay.” You find yourself taking a step back, your hand clutching at the wall.

“I’m gonna eat it baby.” Ari growls, his voice filled with a mix of unbridled lust and determination. “I’m gonna make that pussy fucking cry. And you’re gonna fucking take it. You hear me?”

“Yes.” You whisper, resisting the urge to reach down as you stroke your eager fingers over your throbbing clit. “Yes, Sir.”

He takes a menacing step towards you, his body delighting in the way that you shiver. You’d been bad. Which means it was time to pay the price. And what better man to exact that payment than your own handsome, 6”4 Beast?

“And then I’m gonna fuck you in front of that brand new mirror I bought you. I’m gonna show you who owns that beautiful body and remind you why it’s important to talk to me when you need me.” Another menacing step. “And then I’m gonna feed those delectable curves after I’ve had my fill.”

“And then…” He tilts his head from side to side, cracking his neck. “You’re gonna let me kiss it all better while I make love to you.”

“Y-yes, please.” Right now you were willing to give this man whatever he wanted. Whatever helped you atone for your supposed sins.

“There’s a good girl.” He intones as he unties the apron, leaving him naked and aroused in your simple kitchen. “Now run.”

END

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loveharlow · 8 months ago

Text

SEVEN - 005

PAIRING ‧₊˚ JJ Maybank x Fem!Reader

SYNOPSIS‧₊˚[6.2k] based on 1x05.

WARNING(S)‧₊˚ swearing, mild violence, detainment, mentions of child abuse

NOW PLAYING‧₊˚

A/N‧₊˚ here's how I imagine TR's midsummer's outfit, also shoutout to Chris on the tumblr support team and bigger shoutout to @thepoguelife101 for helping me to get this uploaded.

˗ˏˋ series masterlist ˎˊ˗

PETERKIN SLAMMED HER OFFICE DOOR SHUT. You sat in the chair across from her personal one, avoiding her eyes as she sat on the wood of the desk. “Y’know, I expected to see your friend in here. But not you.” The woman started. “Especially not with a felony as your first offense. Felony destruction of property could get you tried as an adult.”

You remained silent, fiddling with your fingernails as she tried to intimidate you with an unwavering stare. A common interrogation tactic, you learned that from your mother.

“Unlawful discharge of a firearm, trespass on protected habitat, felony destruction. Those are all Maybank’s charges, your little partner in crime?” She listed off. “I want you to take a trip with me into uncharted territory — your future. Picture this,” She started, leaning in further. “You, six months from now, sittin’ in juvie in Wadesboro, just a cell block away from the Maybank boy.”

You cringed at the thought, eyes finally looking at the Sheriff in front of you. She pulled out two papers from a manilla folder, laying them out in front of you. “You seen these guys? You know ‘em?” She inquired, crossing her arms over her chest as your eyes scanned the pictures.

They were mugshots of the square groupers. But you remained silent, jaw clenched and eyes stoic. “Do I need to repeat myself?” Her voice was lower now. You pondered for a few moments, should you tell her or keep quiet? But you figured the damage was already done.

“They…broke into John B’s house, trashed the place. They chased us through The Marsh, too.” You told her, making eye contact with the older woman now and scratching the back of your neck.

She huffed under her breath, pulling more documents from the folder. “Here’s a more recent photo.” She laid them out, the photos presented to you almost made you gag. They were autopsy images of the groupers — deep slashes, pale skin, and bloated bodies. “Somebody gaffed ‘em, then used ‘em for chum. Whoever killed these men is still out there, and I got pretty solid reasons to believe their next target is that friend of yours. John B?” She told you.

Then, she was leaning down so close that her lips were right next to your ear but you didn’t move. “You kids don’t think you’re the only ones after the Royal Merchant, do you?” Your eyes flicked over to hers, staring at the woman through hooded lids. “Yeah, I know about that, too.” She muttered before getting up and rounding the desk again, placing herself behind it.

“He isn’t looking for it, anymore.” You blurted, straightening in the metal chair. “Okay? He’s done.”

“Yeah, your friend said the same thing when I had him in here. I’m just tryna keep him safe. So, I’m gonna tell you the same thing I told him. See if your friend John B is interested in talkin’ to me and maybe we can keep you out of Wadesboro.” She snipped, shuffling the documents back into her folder and leaving the office.

“ARE YOU HER GUARDIAN?” The officer behind the reception desk asked, your mother shuffling with her purse angrily on the other side of the glass as you stood behind her.

“Unfortunately. I’m her mother.” She snapped, sending a nasty glare your way that you rolled your eyes in response to.

“Hearing will be in two weeks. If you fail to show up, you forfeit your bail.” The lady-officer informed, not even offering up a glance. “The restitution will be based on the average of three outside estimates of the cost of the damaged article. Sign right here, please...” She instructed, shoving the clipboard through the glass-slot.

You squinted your eyes harshly and sighed. You didn’t even think about restitution and your were praying that Topper’s boat wasn’t crazy expensive. You could faintly hear your mother muttering under her breath as she absentmindedly scribbled her signature on the bottom of the papers, spinning the clipboard back around to the officer before turning on her heels to face you.

“Let’s go. Now.” Her pumps clacked against the precinct floors, the woman practically throwing the Sheriff Station doors open. You followed closely behind, throwing your slightly matted hair into a ponytail. The jailhouse look was not your best one. “So, when I told you about the Thornton’s boat you just neglected to mention that you were the one that did it?”

You yawned as you tried to keep up with her pace, too tired to respond sensibly. “Yeah, I guess…”

She chuckled with no humor behind it. “The least you could do is pretend to care. The only reason I’m not going to make you pay this restitution your damn self is because I don’t need this becoming a bigger issue than it already is. Do you think I need the entirety of Figure Eight knowing my daughter’s facing a felony charge against one of the most prominent families on the island?”

“Right…” You dragged out, licking the bottom of your front teeth. “Because God forbid the Cul de sac finds out I sunk a boat after getting roundhouse kicked in the ribs...”

Your mother sighed, stopping on the driver’s side of her sleek, black SUV as your rounded the passenger side. Just then, you spotted JJ walking with his father, who you hadn’t seen in God knows how long. Your mother seemed to follow your line of vision, wagging her finger from the other side of the car.

“No. You?” She pointed. “You stay away from that boy, do you hear me? You stay away from all of those pogues.”

“Are you serious? He’s my best friend.”

“Yeah, well not today, he isn’t. Get in the damn car.” She spat, yanking her own door open and jumping inside before slamming it shut. You stood with your hand on the handle, watching JJ hesitantly get in the car with his father. Reluctantly, you opened your own passenger side door and got inside. Your mother nearly broke the key with the aggressive that she started the car with.

Your eyes were glued on Luke’s vehicle as your mother drove off but you could’ve sworn their car was shaking a crack-addict. And if you weren’t crazy, you saw a fist connect with a face through the back windshield. Your back straightened in your seat. “Wait, mom-”

“You mind your business.” She warned, looking between the road and you. “What happens between that boy and his father is none of your concern...”

YOU PRACTICALLY BOLTED UP TO THE COMFORT OF YOUR ROOM WHEN YOU WALKED THROUGH THE FRONT DOOR. Marley was sitting on your bed. You felt bad for being away from her so often recently, but you knew she could entertain yourself. You always left her three bowl of food and water when you had a feeling you’d be gone, knowing your mom didn’t care for the dog as much as she used to. Or at all, really.

Your mother had stopped her yelling and berating about ten minutes into the ride home, receiving a phone call from Shoupe. Even with the device to your ear, you could still make out what the man was saying.

He and Peterkin sent out units to basically spy on John B ‘s house, planning to wait until the boy appeared and make their move. Moments like this made you despise living on an island that was hit by frequent hurricanes, unable to warn any of your friends about what was happening, especially not knowing when John B would pop back up after his run from DCS.

The animal jumped off the bed at the sight of you, jumping on you as you knelt down to her height.

“Hey, Marls.” You cooed, scratching the retriever’s neck as you wiggled up underneath you. “I know, I miss you too. How you been, girl?”

“...Thanks, Anna. I’ll let her know..” Your mothers voice rang in your ears as she stopped in front of your open door, ending the call she was on. Her attention was directed towards you now as she rolled up the sleeves on her blazer slightly. “Clean yourself up. You’re going dress shopping with Kiara.”

“For?”

“Midsummers. You’re going.” You groaned, you’d never been to Midsummer’s because this was your first-year as a Figure Eight resident. With the help of Mrs. C, Kie’s mom, your mom managed to wiggle her way into the Island Club, scoring you an place at Midsummers. Kie described it as the ‘Met Gala from Hell’.

“Wouldn’t a better punishment be not allowing me to go?” You tried, even though you knew she’d never go for it.

“No because that’s exactly what you want, both you and Kiara.” She said, so you assumed this was a small punishment for your best friend, too. “Shower, buy a nice presentable dress, and be there. On time.” Was all the woman said before she continued down the hall to her own room.

Your eyes drifted down to the dog as you pouted, she was staring up at you cutely, mouth open and tail wagging. “I’ll steal you some sliders”

“SERIOUSLY, YOU LOOK GREAT.” Kie gushed beside you, eyeing your hair as you walked into the dress shop. “Like, I know neither of us want to go but you look like a goddess. For real.”

You couldn’t help but giggle, bell jingling above the door as you both entered the small corner shop on the mainland. “I won’t say I don’t want to go just yet. I’ve never been...” You told the brown-haired girl.

“Anything I can help you ladies with?” An employee approached with a bright smile, hands clasped in front of her. She looked so well put together.

“Oh, we’re okay. Thank you.” Kiara politely declined, leading to the racks in the back by your arm. “Everything in here is so hideous but there is a gold mine in the back. No pun intended.” She whispered as she tugging you towards racks you wouldn’t even know were there without her.

“Sometimes, people try and hide their shit on the clearance rack so no one will take it and they can come back and buy it later.” She told you.

You eyed a couple of dresses that peeked your interest — a slim black one, a floral green one, a lacey blue one. There were so many. You plucked up at least five dresses from the rack, Kie’s arms just as full as you both silently search, the shop music playing in the back.

When you were both satisfied, you rushed to the dressing rooms. Kie went first and you almost forgot how picky she was. The girl looked good in almost anything but when she walked out in a purple, cowl necklace, satin dress, you both knew it was the one.

“Oh my, Kie, you look so good!” You exclaimed, squealing like a school-girl. “The purple makes your skin look amazing, Kie, you have to get it.”

“I’m not leaving the shop without it.” She said like it was the most obvious thing in the world, a smile on her face. “Okay, let me change so you can try yours on.” She said, slipping back into the dressing room as you gathered your hangers of dresses from the seat beside you and entered the room after she left.

The first couple of dresses were just not your thing. It was either too loose or unflattering in color. You were about to give up and head back to the racks until you realized you still had one more dress to try on — a mulberry colored dress with a sweetheart neckline. Slipping it on, you stepped out of the dressing room and did a twirl for a Kie.

“...If you don’t buy it, I fucking will.” She looked you up and down with wide eyes.

“Is that a yes?” You questioned.

“It’s a hell yes.” She scoffed. “You look stunning in that dress, Y/N.”

“Need any help in here?” The same employee from earlier came in, stopping in her tracks when her eyes landed on you. “My God, it suits you so well.” You weren’t sure if she was just doing her job but her compliment was all you needed to decide that this was your Midsummers dress, for sure. “Oh! I have just the thing to compliment it.” The woman gushed, rushing out of the fitting room and returning within seconds, a flower-band hairpiece in her hands.

She placed it gently atop your hair, adjusting it until it sat right. She told you you looked beautiful and left you and Kie to yourselves once more, not before bringing a matching hairpiece for Kie that suited her purple dress. The employee took all of your unwanted dresses back for you while the both of you re-dressed and went back out to search for shoes.

With Kie’s help, you settled on a pair of block-heel pumps that closely resembled the color of your dress. The woman at the register happily rung you both up, offering you a friendly smile on your way out the door. You were maybe five feet from leaving when a familiar head of blonde hair entered the shop as you and Kie were leaving, bumping in between the middle of both of you.

“Oh! I’m so sorry-” She stopped mid-apology when she realized who she was apologizing to. “Oh. It’s just you two.” Sarah’s tone wasn’t as cheery as she eyed you both up and down. “Midsummer’s?” She asked, motioning towards the bags in your hands.

“Yep.” Kie gave the girl a fake smile. “How about you? Out for prey?”

“Okay, you know what, Kie?” Sarah started, causing a scene in the small shop as you tugged on Kie’s arm.

“We should just go…” You whispered.

“Oh! And thanks for sinking my boyfriend’s boat, Y/n. Real classy.” You couldn’t help but scoff, edging in front of Kiara.

“Which boyfriend? I mean, it’s clear that Top isn't your main man anymore, so when’s the next guy gonna pop out?” The blonde girl smiled, licking the bottom of her top teeth before speaking.

“Be careful what you wish for.” She spoke in hushed tone, your eyes pinching in on each other.

“The hell’s that supposed to mean?” Kie jumped in.

“Is there a problem… over here?” An employee came over, a much older woman. The manager you assumed.

“No.” You replied, winding your arm through keys before pushing the store door open. “No problem at all.” You told the lady, eyes mugging Sarah as you left.

“EXCUSE ME SIR, DO WE HAVE TO SHUCK THESE OURSELVES?” Kiara put on a fake accent as you both snuck up behind Pope, the boy turning around with an irritated expression before realizing it was you two. “‘Cause it might mess up my costume.” Kie laughed.

He smiled and pulled you both into a tight hug. When he released you both, he turned to you first. “I’m so sorry. I should’ve never-”

“Pope, don’t. It was my idea.” He swallowed his pride, accepting that you wouldn’t allow him to apologize.

“Have you seen JJ? Since the arrest?” He asked, voice laced with worry.

You nodded. “We spent the night in the holding cell together. Last I saw him was when he left the station with his dad…” You told him, the events of this morning flashing in your mind. You knew JJ’s dad was a little off his rocker but now you were wondering just how bad it’s gotten.

Pope’s mind seemed to wander after that. You wanted to ask if he knew anything, if you were right to be worried but you decided to just wait until you saw JJ.

“You ever seen this many kooks in one place?” Kie cut in, staring at the growing crowd of people.

“Yeah,” Pope replied, standing next to her. “Last year.”

“We’re in the lion’s den.” She said solemnly, eyeing Topper and Kelce from across the field. Applause broke out prompting your attention to turn to the family entering the party — The Camerons. Rose, Ward, Rafe, Sarah, and Wheezie descended the stairs in typical Cameron fashion. “Here come Lord Capital and the Exploiters. This is gonna be fun…”

IT’D BEEN A COUPLE HOURS SINCE YOU’D ARRIVED AT MIDSUMMERS. You and Kie had been sneaking Pope drinks as he worked, almost getting busted by Heyward.

“Y’know, I’ll admit,” Kie started as you both leaned against each other while Pope continued preparing food in front of the grill. “This is a lot more fun with you guys here.”

“Aww,” You cooed, rubbing the girl’s arm. “We love you, too.”

She giggled. “Are you tipsy?” You looked up at her through your lashes as you leaned on her arm. You held up your hand, hovering your index finger and thumb in front of one another.

“Jus’ a little.” You whispered, eyes drifting around the party. You watched the party-goers dance and drink and socialize. But your eyes managed to land on a familiar head of scruffy blonde hair. “Is that JJ?” You perked up, taking your weight off of Kiara. You hiked up your dress slightly in order to speed-walk across the lawn and reach the boy, Kiara calling out behind you. “JJ!” you whisper-yelled, catching the boys attention.

He looked star-struck for the briefest of moments and he still hadn’t spoken when you reached him. You waved a hand in front of his face, snapping him out of it and watching a small smile edge on his features.

“It’s so good to see you, princess.” He cheered quietly pulling you into a tight bear-hug, lifting you a few inches off the ground. You didn’t hesitate to hug him back, wounding your arms around his neck right before he put you down.

But your smile dropped when you got a good look at his face. “JJ..” You whispered, fingers tracing the bottom of his lip where a large cut sat, a large bruise on his cheek. “Did your dad do this?”

His blue eyes met yours, pulling your hand from his face and holding it in his own and edging closer to you. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll be fine.”

“What do you mean don’t worry about it, JJ? He can’t hit you like that-”

“It’s nothing that hasn’t happened before.” He cut you off. “Okay? Just keep it to yourself. Please, Y/n.”

You looked between both of his eyes — they were pleading with you to just drop it. To let it go. And you didn’t want to. But JJ did. You nodded, squeezing his hand. “Okay…” you agreed. “Don’t worry about all of this, okay? My mom’s gonna pay the restitution, so if that’s why your dad’s mad just let him know-”

“It’s okay.” The blonde. “John B and I, we have a plan. We’re back in the G-game.” Your eyes went wide.

“But there was nothing there. The wreck was empty, JJ.”

“John B will explain everything, alright? But I have to do somethin’ really really quick.” He backed away, walking backwards from you, basically skipping. “And you look gorgeous, by the way! Prettiest Pogue Princess there ever was!” He mildly-shouted as he walked away, a bright smile breaking out on your face.

You turned back around to find Kie just standing there. “What was that?” She inquired as you both walked back to Pope.

“What was what?” You asked, plucking a shrimp off the scorching grill as Pope swatted your hand away with the tongs.

“You and JJ…” She trailed off. “You don’t think that was weird?”

You scoffed, looking up at her through your lashes. “He’s one of my best friends, Kie. Plus, we’ve been through a lot in the last 24 hours. Why are you making it weird?” She didn’t respond after that, just giving you an odd look. You only spoke again once Pope asked what happened. “JJ says we’re back in the G-game.”

“How?” Pope asked, still paying most attention to the food in front of him.

“Not sure. He says John B will explain it all later.” You pulled your phone out of your bra, looking at the time. “Shit. I need to go find my mother before I become the next thing on the grill. She wants me to meet some business partners of hers.” You dismissed, waving goodbye to your two friends.

You weaved through the crowd, spotting your mother at one of the decorated table talking to a much older, elderly couple. She spotted you and pointed before motioning you over. You stood next to her, smiling at the couple.

“Mr. and Mrs. Daugherty, this is my daughter, Y/n.” You shook their hands, told them it was nice to meet them. Your mother had explained that these were the people that helped her succeed in law so she wanted you to meet them and get their advice, despite your several protests that law was not your desired career path.

She kept trying to fit you into her shoes knowing they would never fit. But you listened to their takes and advice, mostly for their sake. You’d been idly engaging until you saw JJ bolt into the clubhouse, Rafe and his crew hot on his tail. Your plastered smile dropping for the smallest of moments.

“I’m so sorry,” You chuckled awkwardly. “You wouldn’t mind if I used the restroom, would you?”

“Not at all, darling-” The old woman told you but your mother was quick to add in her two cents.

“You can hold it, can’t you?” She fake laughed, eyes going back and forth between you and her mentors. “I mean, you wouldn’t want to be rude.”

“I didn’t know peeing was rude, Mother.” You cocked your head, lifting the skirt of your dress as to not trip over it on your way into the clubhouse, looking at the Daugherty’s once more before you left, offering them a smile. “Excuse me.”

You walked as fast as you could into the building, accidentally bumping guest after guest on your way in. You no longer had sights on the group of guys, following the trail of shocked guests and shifted furniture that they left behind.

To the people around, you probably looked a little crazed but this wasn’t like at The Point or at The Golf Course or during The Movie. Rafe would have JJ cornered with two guys behind him. You knew that realistically you stood no chance against a trio of guys but you weren’t about to leave JJ to fend for himself.

You searched the place up and down, stumbling towards the restrooms, immediately heading into the men’s one. You ignored the wold-whistles, protests, and men peacefully using the urinals, following the sound of hushed voices into the connected locker room.

“Actually, there is an issue,” You heard JJ’s voice as you got closer. “We got a criminal trespass in progress here. Blatant disrespect for private property, I’m in violation of all kinds of shit here, sir.” You shook your head at his words, knowing he was seconds away from getting thrown out. The Island Club’s security was tight.

“Excuse me, miss,” a voice startled you from behind, causing you to whip around. “You can’t be in here.” You opened your mouth, stuttering to find an excuse as the other security stared at you but you just settled on throwing your arms up. Clearly, JJ was safe, even though he was getting kicked out.

As you were being led out, you looked behind you to see that the other officer had a hold of JJ before Rafe’s voice sounded out. “Hey, tell Y/n she looks hot in that dress! But she looks so much hotter out of it, trust me!” The Cameron boy laughed out and you watched as JJ snatched himself out of the guard’s hold and charged back into the locker room. The action made your heart jump but you weren’t sure for what reason as the other guard continued leading you out into the main hall of the clubhouse.

You weren’t sure which exit the other security guard has escorted JJ out of so you made your way back to the deck of the clubhouse, head whipping left and right until you spotted that familiar head of blonde hair. JJ was reckless and chaotic but he was still your friend.

You weren’t gonna watch as they practically threw him out an event when he didn’t even instigate anything. “It’s okay everybody! Do not panic.” He shouted with his hands up in the air, the majority of the party’s attention now on him. “Leave it to the men and woman in uniform. Let’s hear it for them! Rose, you look like lady liberty.”

“You can let go of him!” You called, skipping down the steps and into the grass. “He doesn’t have to be manhandled, he didn’t do anything!” The security turned to you, still gripping JJ by the upper arm. JJ took the opportunity to shove the man off of him, his blue eyes on yours across the lawn.

“Hey, mandatory power hour at Rixon’s, princess!” He pointed at you. “Kie? Pope?” He motioned to them as well. “Rixon’s Cove. Let’s roll! Throw off your chains!” You watched as Kiara snatched away from her parents and Pope ran away from his dad. You were making a move to follow them when a hand gripped your upper arm, your mother coming into view.

“We talked about this.” She said firmly, fire in her eyes. “Do not embarrass me, right now.” The woman warned.

“I don’t think there’s any way for me to make you proud anymore, Mom.” You told her sadly in a hushed tone before snatching your arm out of her grip, running towards your friends. You could hear her calling out your name behind you but you ignored her, jumping into JJ’s open arms and leaving Midsummers.

CICADA’S CHIRPED IN THE MIDDLE OF RIXON’S COVE AS YOU ALL SAT AROUND A RAGING BONFIRE, waiting for JB to speak. “So, like, my dad’s already gonna kill me.” Pope started, sat on a log in front of the fire across from you and Kie while JJ and John B stood, throwing rocks. “So, what’s this mandatory meeting about?”

The two boys sat down, eyeing each other before JJ spoke. “Might as well tell him before we’re gaffed, man.” He said, the statement mainly directed at John B.

“...The gold never went down with the Royal Merchant. It’s been here the whole time.” The brunette said, a small victorious smile on his face.

“Here?” You exclaimed incredulously from where your head laid on Kiara’s shoulder. He just offered up a simple nod.

“It’s on the island.”

“I would like to voice my skepticism.” Pope raised his hand.

“I’m sure you would, Pope, but can I please present you my evidence, sir?” John B spoke mockingly as he got up to speak at the forefront of the group.

Pope motioned with his hand. “Proceed.”

“In my backpack, I have a letter from Denmark Tanny. Denmark Tanny was a slave that survived the Royal Merchant wreck. Check it,” He handed Kiara the letter as you eyed it as well. “Slaves weren’t mentioned as crew members on the ship, but my dad found the complete manifest. That was his big discovery. Tanny used the gold from the Merchant to buy his freedom, and then his farm.”

Kiara passed the paper across the fire for JJ and Pope to see as John B continued. “And that farm is, drumroll please…” Kiara patted her thighs rapidly, shaking your frame back and forth which prompted you to sit up straight. “Tannyhill Plantation.”

You blinked hard, craning your neck forward. “Tannyhill?” You and Kie exclaimed simultaneously. Like, the Cameron’s Tannyhill?

“Yeah. After that, he used the money to free even more slaves, and then he sold a shit-ton of rice, which pisses off all the white planters, and they decide to lynch him. On the day they were coming to get him, he writes a farewell letter to his son and in the last line of that letter, he leaves a coded message about the gold’s location.”

“Where?”

“Harvest the wheat in parcel nine, near the water. Except, there’s no wheat. Wheat is code for gold, seeing as the gold has the wheat symbol engraved into it.” He slapped Pope’s shoulder with a smile.

“Holy shit...” The dark-skinned boy said.

“All we need is an original survey map of the property, and we’ve found the gold.” John B concluded, small smiles on the faces of the entire group.

“So, whats the plan?” You asked, and you figured it was nothing good when John B had his attention fully on you and Kiara, his shoulders square. “Well, Sarah Cameron’s coming tonight-”

“Hold on...” Kie was the first to speak.

“She’ll bring an original survey map.”

“Why Sarah?” She asked.

“This is gonna be good…” JJ muttered, looking down at his feet.

John B sighed, raking his fingers through his hair. “She… got me into the archives at Chapel Hill yesterday. That’s where I got the letter.”

“You were at Chapel Hill with Sarah Cameron?” Kie spat out unbelievably.

“He was mackin’ on her.” JJ added in quickly, avoiding all eye contact.

“Of course...” You muttered disappointingly.

“I wasn’t macking on her, okay? I was… using her for access.”

“Did you tell her about the treasure?” Kiara inquired, an undertone of hurt laced in her voice.

“I was trying to get into the archives!” JB argued back.

“Is that a yes?” You chimed in, truly not believing John B could be that idiotic. But you guessed that was the Sarah Cameron effect.

“I was just using her for information. I’m trying to make us filthy rich here. Okay? So, that we can pay off a boat, or send Pope to autopsy school so he can study dead bodies. Look, you guys know me.” He continued talking, looking around at the group. Kiara was visibly uncomfortable. “Do I look like the type of person to fall for Sarah Cameron?”

“Yes!” You exclaimed with scoff.

“Look, you guys don’t know her yet, I do!”

“John B, we do know her. A hell of a lot better than you ever will,” You started, anger and betrayal in your voice. “For the last time, you can’t trust her. With the gold or your feelings.”

“Her brother did hit me in the back with a golf club...” Pope reminded, massaging his shoulder with a grimace.

You blew out a breath of air. “Yeah, her brother’s done a lot of things…” You quipped underneath your breath.

“What’d she do to you both, exactly?’ JJ aimed the inquiry at you and Kiara.

“She’s like a spitting cobra.” Kie spat out. “First, she blinds you and then- and then she-”

“This is a bad analogy…” The blonde muttered.

“Listen to me!” Kiara pleaded. “Whatever we get, she’s going to try to take...”

“I THINK I’M GONNA DO THIS ONE BY MYSELF…” John B told the four of you who were crowded in the back of The Twinkie. Kiara rolled her eyes and the rest of you sighed unbelievably. “I don’t wanna spook Sarah with the peanut gallery.”

“I just don’t understand why we’re involving her at all.” Kiara snapped, throwing her shoulders up.

“Kie, we’re not involving her, okay? It’s just, like, a business…meeting…thing.”

“A business meeting between their tongues…” You muttered as JJ made kissing motions with both his hands.

“Look, once we get what we need, we cut her loose, alright?” John B reaffirmed the group, dismissing your suspicion and doubt.

“...Promise me nothing is happening between you two.”

“Nothing is happening, Kie.” The boy sighed.

“I’m being serious. This isn’t about you and this isn’t about us,” You, JJ and Pope shared a tense glance. Was Kiara sure she didn’t have a thing for him? “Dude, she’s gonna get inside your head. Just promise me nothing’s happening between you guys.” She spoke solemnly.

“I…I promise.” John B told her. “...Anyways, I’m gonna go.” John B said in farewell, opening the van door and exiting.

“We’ll just sit here…in this hot ass car.” Pope said as he shut the door.

“...Can’t believe he’s been seeing Sarah Cameron.” You thought aloud, disgust filling your words.

“You guys do know that holding onto your grudge is like drinking poison and hoping Sarah will die, right?” Pope threw out.

“‘Hope is the companion of power and mother of success.’” You quipped back, remembering the quote from a random in class.

“Seriously, what went down between you three? This is like some deep-rooted hate.” JJ added.

“Does it matter? We’re supposed to be a team and John B jumping ship to mack on the Kook Princess doesn’t exactly scream teamwork.” You told them. “We all know that deep down, when we find this gold, John B is going to have fallen madly in love with the serial cheating, two-faced snake that is Sarah Cameron and she’s going to break his measly little heart and steal what we find and then we’ll be left gold-less and picking up the pieces of John Booker Routledge’s little broken heart.”

The space fell silent after your small rant, wide-eyed glances exchanged between the three. “Okay, I was wrong. That is some deep-rooted hate.”

“We shouldn’t have let him go out there alone…” Kie muttered, staring out of the window, thunder clapping outside. It was a thought shared amongst you all, a silent agreement. The van fell into a comfortable silence for a few moments.

Until it was broken.

“...help!”

Your eyebrows pinched together, lifting your head from JJ’s shoulder. “Did you hear that?” You asked looking up at the blonde.

“Hear what?” You all sat silently for a few more moments, the only sound being the howling wind and the thunder booming until you heard it again, this time you all did.

“Somebody please help!”

You all didn’t wait to sprint out of the van, almost knocking one another over on your way out. You don’t even know how you and Kiara managed to run in heels without tripping. The four of you bolted in the direction of the tower, following the path that John B took and reaching the end of it to find Sarah cradling his unconscious body.

“Sarah! What happened?” Pope questioned as you all came to an abrupt stop in front her.

“He needs help. I don’t know what to do. Topper shoved him.” She cried, rocking back and forth with John B in her arms.

“From the top of the tower?! What the fuck was Topper doing here?” You spat out, head whirling left and right looking for any sign of the aforementioned boy.

“Where is he, now?” JJ interrogated.

“Please get help, I don’t care who. Just call someone.” Sarah bellowed as JJ urged Pope to run for help, especially with all of your phones being abandoned in the Twinkie.

“John B, stay with me…” The blonde girl cooed, running her fingers through his hair before planting her lips against his. You glanced to the side, not missing the absolute look of betrayal in Kie’s eyes and maybe you would’ve found the same emotion in your own.

John B lied, to all of you. But that was the least of your concerns now.

YOU HATED THE FEEL OF HOSPITALS. They were stale and sterile and boring. But most importantly, they made you anxious. The four of you sat in the waiting room, they wouldn’t allow you in the actual hospital room because Ward had paid for it and he wanted to give Sarah a moment with John B when he woke up.

“This is such bullshit.” You said unbelievably, tapping your foot incessantly. “She cheats on her boyfriend and gets our friend thrown from a tower but we can’t even sit in his hospital room? She’s probably holding his hand and praying like some widow…”

“Let’s just be glad that John B’s okay…” Pope tried to reason.

“No, Pope,” Kiara rolled her eyes. “He lied to us. Did you see the way she was holding him and-” She cut herself off, throwing herself back into the chair.

“Look, we can be mad when he wakes up, but let’s just chill right now, alright?” JJ snapped, basically telling you all to shut it and you only then took notice of how tense he was — biting his fingernails, his hands visibly shaking. You took his unoccupied hand into yours, giving it a squeeze. He absentmindedly returned the gesture. “When I find Topper, I’m going to kill him. I should’ve done it on the beach…”

“Don’t say that.” You told him firmly. “That’s how they want you to think, JJ. Don’t feed into it, otherwise they win.”

“They always win, anyway.”

“Only if you let them.” You concluded, letting the hospital noise fill the silence — telephones ringing, patients coughing, nurses walking, family members crying.

Taking in the scene around you, where you had all landed, you were starting to wonder if finding gold was really worth the trouble.

next chapter >

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yourfavoritewitchbitch · 10 months ago

Text

Badge Bunny Meet Ugly

Gator Tillman x Fem!Reader

Badge Bunny AU - This can be read as a stand alone. Read more of their series here.

Summary: You're new to town. It's only supposed to be temporary. A handsome Deputy catches your eye, then seemingly ruins his chances as soon as he opens his mouth. This is not your fairytale.

18+ Only! MDNI!

Word Count: 14.5K

Warnings: Slow burn. Porn, with plot. Minimal use of Y/N. Reader is referred to as "Bunny" or "Bun". Toxic relationship (let's be honest here). Oral (m & f receiving). Choking. Semi-public sex. Degradation. Unprotected P in V (wrap it before you tap it!). Creampie.

Telling yourself you needed a fresh start, North Dakota hadn’t been your first choice but it became your last when things seemingly had started spiraling out of your control.

Your car had broken down just inside of Stark County, leaving you stranded in the middle of literal nowhere.

“No, no, no. Please. Come on!” Trying the ignition over and over to no avail. You reached for your phone, thankfully it had a signal, googling the nearest mechanic shop; only showing one in a 20-mile radius.

It’s as if the universe was playing some cruel tricks on you.

The night before, you left the sleazy hotel where you had been staying when you realized someone had taken the last bit of money you had left. Internally cursing yourself for trying to hide it in the toilet tank like a fucking cliche idiot.

It was another 30 minutes before the tow truck and owner of “Frank’s Body Shop” pulled in beside you. An older, gruff looking man with gray hair, a little wiry, sticking up from his head. You suspected you might have woken him when you called.

It was a quiet, awkward drive back to his shop.

Once he’d gotten your car into the bay you’d asked where the nearest motel might be.

“Oh, there’s one about a mile down the road on the right. Can’t miss it.” Frank said without looking up from his paperwork.

“Any chance you could drive me over? I’m new to t….”

“Do I look like a taxi service to you?” He spat. “I already got out of bed to come get ya’.”

“Alright then, at least point me in the right direction?”

“Out the front to the left. Midway Motel. Only one this side of town.” He pointed.

“Yeah, thanks.” You didn’t wait for him to respond as you headed outside. If this was what they considered hospitality in Lehigh, you didn't want to stay here a second longer than what was absolutely necessary.

Your jacket did little to shield you from the blustery cold wind. You wrapped your arms around yourself, heading off in the direction to find somewhere to lay your head for the night, leaving the light of the only streetlamp you could see in the foreseeable distance.

It was dark but the moon was unusually bright, reflecting the glint of the fresh snow fall from earlier in the day.

You hadn't made it very far down the road when you heard a rumble of an engine and headlights cut out ahead of you. You didn't bother looking up, expecting God knows what this hour of night.

The vehicle slowed as it got closer, you held your backpack strap a little tighter to your chest and wrapped your hand around the pocketknife tucked into your jacket, expecting the worst.

You finally turned on your heel to be met with an older model blazer with Stark County Sheriff's Office on the side of the door. Some of the anxiety slipped away but you kept your guard up. You'd never had any good run-ins with cops.

The driver's window slowly rolled down, an older man was behind the wheel, you couldn't make out his features in the low light, but he was wearing a cowboy hat.

“Evening, miss. Little late to be wandering the highway alone. Could be dangerous for a lady such as yourself.” His tone made you feel uneasy.

Great, another smart-ass hick, you thought.

“Evening, Officer…”

“Sheriff Tillman,” he interrupted.

“Right, Sheriff Tillman. My car broke down and I was trying to find the Midway Motel?” It came out to be more of a question than you intended.

“The Midway? It's kind of a rough place, there's a Holiday Inn on the other side of…”

“With all due respect, Sheriff, I'm just looking for somewhere for tonight and I don't exactly have enough cash to be spending it in on something like a Holiday Inn.”

“Fair enough,” he nodded. “Hop in, it's on the way.”

You looked down the highway once more, biting your lip. It was going to be a trek you dreaded, and you were already tired from the events over the last couple of days. You rolled a gravel under your shoe before finally relenting.

“Yeah, okay.” Crossing in front to open the door, removing your backpack and climbing into the passenger seat. “Thanks.”

He didn't say anything or look your way as he threw the vehicle back into drive once the door was shut.

You were able to get a better look at the Sheriff. Older, rough around the edges. An air about him that dripped with arrogance.

Sitting beside him didn't make that uneasy feeling any better, only intensifying it. Something felt off.

You were grateful for the warmth the heater provided. Rubbing your hands together in your lap.

“So, what brings you to Lehigh Miss…?” He asked.

“Uh, Y/N, and just passing through. Like I said, my car broke down, so here I am.”

“Y/N,” he said, as he mulled it over. Letting it sit on his tongue. You didn't like the way your name rolled out of his mouth.

He nodded as he kept his gaze on the road ahead. Nothing else said between the two of you in the short drive.

The Midway was, as expected, a dump. Neons lit Vacancy above you, missing a few letters with a sign out front broadcasting, “$129 weekly rates”.

“Well, this is it.” He shifts into park outside the small office, as the older woman behind the counter straightening up in her chair at the sight of the Sheriff's car.

"Well, thank you Sheriff Till…" As you reached for the door.

"Roy. And I know you're new to town, so I thought I'd extend an invitation to our church. You can come and sit with my family so you wouldn't be by yourself. I've got a son that seems about your age.”

"Uh, thanks, Sheriff. But I'm hoping my car will be done in a day or two. I don't plan on staying that long." Sliding out and gathering your bag over your shoulder. "Thanks again for the ride.”

"Anytime. Enjoy your stay,” tipping his hat, as you closed the door.

You could feel his eyes trail after you as you walked into the office before he finally drove away.

The older lady stood, “Uh hi, I just need a room for the night, I hope.”

“Sure honey, we only got a double bed.” She eyed you warily. “You know the Sheriff?”

“Huh?” Barely registering what she had said as you were digging for your wallet.

“Sheriff Tillman? You know him?”

“No. He just offered me a ride…” you trailed off. “Why?”

“Don't trust that man. That whole family is a den of vipers. Son gaining a reputation just as bad. I'd steer clear if I were you.”

“I'll take that into consideration,” you took the key from her. “Thanks.”

The room was just as inviting. Cramped space with a small double bed and a flowery duvet. An older style TV sits in the corner making it feel like the place was stuck in the 90s.

No coffee maker or mini fridge. The small bathroom at least looked clean upon inspection though you weren't sure it could be trusted.

The bed provided little comfort. The mattress was lumpy, and the pillows were flat.

Well, at least it's for one night. You tried to shut your eyes and get some rest.

“What do you mean, a couple of weeks?” You whined.

“What I just said, I can't get the part right now. Be a couple weeks.” Frank huffed. “I had to order it, so do you want it fixed or not?”

“Of course I want it fixed. Just let me know when it's done.”

Stomping your way out the garage, you shouldn't have expected anything else really. Not with the way your luck had been going.

You’d walked back to the motel, paying another week in advance and asking the lady at the front desk, Maggie, where you might find some decent work as it looked like you might be here for a while longer.

“Pretty girl like you, could always go over to the Tender Trap, you'd be out of this dump in no time,” as she proceeded to tell you the sort of place it was.

“I think I'd prefer to keep my clothes on.”

“Suit yourself,” she shrugged, pulling her cigarette to her lips. Puffs of smoke curled up as she exhaled. “Lucky Lizard across the way might be lookin’ for another waitress. Henry said last week his girl quit.”

“Here,” she pulled out a pad and pen, writing a name and number down for you.

“Thanks Maggie.”

You'd met with Henry the owner and resident bartender that afternoon. You'd been upfront about it only being temporary, but he liked your spunkiness and hired you on the spot.

He tried to warn you what you were getting into with the weekend crowd, but nothing would quite compare to seeing it in person.

Your shift started at 4. It started off easy enough. The early crowd were mostly blue-collared guys, interested in a couple of beers before heading home for the night.

Saturday's host karaoke night. The usual crowd is replaced by the rowdy 20 and 30 somethings of Lehigh looking for a good time when there is nothing else to do in nowhere USA.

Drinks flowing, the crowd loving the various renditions of their favorite songs echoing through the building.

The fight broke out before you realized what was going on.

You hadn't seen the beginning, but you were caught off guard when someone shoved you from behind, knocking the tray you held off balance. Bottles of beer went flying across the floor.

Henry called the Sheriff's department as soon as it got out of control and told you to get behind the bar until they arrived.

He had a shotgun there, pulled it out and told everyone to exit the bar. They eventually did.

“This happen often?” You asked him.

“Not usually,” he gave you a weary half smile.

You were beginning to think bad luck was following you at this point.

It didn't take long for a couple of deputies to walk through the door.

One caught your eye in particular. He waltzed in, dick first, like he owned the place. He rested his hand on the gun that was tucked away in his snug thigh holster, slung tight over his camo pants as your eyes trailed up the rest of his frame.

He was wearing the usual kevlar, adorned with a gold star badge on top of a snug long-sleeved T-shirt. You could tell the way it hugged his arms he was fit.

His head was covered with a hat that read Stark County Sheriff. It was shielding some of your view of his face at this angle, but you could make out his sharp jawline and aquiline nose.

Your eyes drank in every detail that was available as his eyes searched the crowd, turning his head slowly finally landing on you. His deep set, hazel eyes caught yours.

You felt pinned the longer he stared. He gave you a lopsided grin before lifting his hand, tipping his hat toward you. You smiled in return.

Then the moment was over, as he caught Henry's attention and beckoned him over.

You started busying yourself with cleaning up the mess the brawlers had left behind. As soon as they heard the cops were called the stragglers hightailed it out of there, along with a lot of the good paying customers.

With no one to pin it on, the cops weren't going to stay long. Statements and descriptions of the men were all they could get, along with some grainy video footage.

You were cleaning up a high top in the corner when he started to approach. You spotted him from the corner or your eye, because you hadn't stopped watching him since he entered.

Heavy boots made their way closer as you wiped down the sticky tabletop.

He cleared his throat before he spoke, gaining your attention as you were finally able to get a better look at him. He was handsome, clean cut. Not something you were expecting in a small-town Sheriff's department.

“Uh, don't believe we've met. Deputy Tillman, uh Gator.”

So, this was who Maggie had warned you about.

“Gator Tillman, huh? I've heard all about you and your daddy.” You shot back.

He smirked, but his eyebrows knit together with confusion.

“So, how is it you know all about me, but I've never seen you before. And trust me, I'd remember a pretty face like yours.” His eyes trailed slightly downward catching the top of your cleavage before moving back up.

You couldn't contain your eyes from rolling. Men were so easy. All the same. Simple creatures with only one thing on their minds.

You smiled and arched a brow, as his gaze set on your face once more.

“If you don't mind, I've got to get back to work. In case you didn't notice, this place is a mess.” You said, turning back to the table.

“I'm here on official business, need your statement. Miss…?” He paused, grabbing a pen, as if he was actually going to write any of this shit down.

You had him pegged from the moment he walked in here.

“Y/N.”

“Y/N.” He spoke. And as you expected, just stared at you. “You're not from around here, are ya’?”

“Nope and don't plan on sticking around either.”

“Yeah, Henry said you're over at the Midway? That place is rough, ya’ could…”

“Yeah, yeah I've already heard. You Tillmans have a savior complex or something?” you huffed out.

“Scuse me?” He furrowed his brows.

“Look, I don't need some hot shot, knight in shining kevlar to save me. I'm not some damsel in distress. I can take care of myself.” You looked him straight in the eye, not backing down.

“You're cute, y’know that?” he smiled, and let out a small humorless chuckle.

You watched as he produced a vape from his pocket, placing it between his pouty lips before sucking, as his cheeks hollowed just a bit. The fruity scented cloud billowed out, as he blew it hitting you square in the face.

“Seriously?” You coughed, hand waving it quickly away.

“Sorry,” he smirked again, not meaning his apology in the slightest.

“Sorry? For blowing that rancid shit right in my face? Your mama never teach you any fucking manners?” You huffed, grabbing the towel off the table and quickly walking away leaving him to stare after you.

He took another hit from his vape, letting his eyes trail your curves, watching the way your hips swayed with each step before he was knocked from his trance.

“Gator,” Andy, the other deputy, caught his attention. “Let's go.”

He nodded and bid Henry a goodbye.

He was intrigued. He could usually bat his eyes, puff his chest out a little and any girl would fall over him. Not you.

You were a little spitfire who didn't back down. He kind of liked it.

Gator was never the kind to chase tail, it fell in his lap with ease. You were different and something in the back of his mind wanted to see how far he had to push to see you give in.

You'd all but forgotten about Deputy Tillman in the following days. However, he couldn't seem to get you off his mind.

The way you had spoken so blatantly like you didn't care who he was, or what kind of weight the Tillman name carried in this county. He couldn't deny the way it kind of turned him on. Every other girl in this town was either scared of him or immediately fell at his feet.

You were different, not to mention easy on the eyes with curves that seemed to go for days easily getting any man to eat out of the palm of your hand.

He pulled into the bar, telling himself he was just doing a routine check, on the lookout for drunks.

Deep down, he wanted to catch another glimpse to see if you were truly as pretty as he remembers. Maybe he could sweet talk you into a night of fun. Let him take you back to that trashy motel and have his way with you.

He settled back into the seat, checking the time on his watch, a quarter past 2 AM. The bar had just closed for the night, so he suspected you’d be in until at least another 30 minutes tidying up the place and kicking out the stragglers.

He pulled his phone out playing Candy Crush to pass the time. Placing his vape between his lips every few minutes, getting a little more anxious with each passing second.

He jumped at the sound of someone banging on his window, dropping his vape and almost doing the same with his phone.

He looked over to see you standing there, arms crossed giving him a glare that would rival the devil himself.

It had been a long day. You were about to head back to the Midway after picking up a double shift. You headed out the back, surveying the lot.

The first thing you noticed is a black truck parked off to itself. You grumbled as soon as you saw the Stark County Sheriff logo on the side.

Instead of making the trek back to the motel, you decided to have a little fun, suspecting immediately who it might be.

Your boots stomped their way over to the driver's side door as you placed your hands on your hips. He made no attempt to roll the window down. You could see the glow of that stupid vape lit within. You wanted to yank it out of his mouth.

Growing more impatient by the second, you finally gave in using your fist to bang on the window.

You realized he hadn’t even noticed you walk up when his vape went flying out of his hand. You held in your laugh. Instead opting to hold a stern gaze, forcing your lips together and crossing your arms over your chest.

The window finally rolled down as he came into view. He wasn’t wearing a hat like the last time you’d seen him. His hair was slicked back, shorter on the sides revealing his face even more to you. Damnit, he was handsome.

“What the fuck is your problem?” He spat. Oh, this is going to be fun, you thought.

“Deputy Tillman, is that any way to speak to a lady?” You purred. “And what the hell are you doing out here? Besides looking like a creep?”

He scoffed, “My job. What the fuck does it look like?”

“Your job? You skulk around bars for your job?” You smirked. Each insult slowly getting under his skin.

“I'm watching for drunks. But I don't have to explain myself to you.” He sounded like a child. You couldn't tell in the low light but were sure his face was reddened from how strained his voice sounds.

“Right, well, good night Deputy.” You turned away from him, smirking as you went. His eyes trailing after you.

“Hey, Y/N,” he called. “Need a lift?”

“No thanks! You just stay here and watch for those drunks.” Yelling back and laughing out, the sound traveling across the parking lot back to his ears.

He shook his head and watched you go.

“Shit,” he hissed out, his head dropping back onto the headrest with a thud. Why'd he have to open his big mouth like that?

The following week he seemed to be everywhere.

He was at the gas station as you paid for your soda and nachos, trying to take a break from the motel when the walls felt like they were closing in around you.

A couple of days later, he was at the diner grabbing lunch as you were just finishing yours. He stared at you from over the top of the menu as you left some cash on the table and headed out. If he was trying to be discreet about it, he was failing miserably.

The next day, you bumped into him at the grocery store a couple of blocks away from where you were staying.

You turned the corner with your small cart, bumping into someone.

“Oh, I am so sor…” the words died as soon as you looked up to see him standing there. He grinned, pulling a box of cereal from the shelf and putting it into his own cart.

He looked good. Camo thermal under a black leather jacket with matching black cargo pants; thigh holster in place. His hair was slicked back just like you had seen it in the prior days.

You cocked a brow, “Deputy Tillman, if I didn't know any better, I'd say you were stalking me.”

“Stalking you? Maybe it's the other way ‘round. Huh, sweet thing?” He moved to lean his elbow on the shelf as he looked you over, missing the edge by only a few centimeters.

He slipped, correcting himself almost immediately, straightening back up and throwing the shelf an accusatory look.

“Woah there, big fella.” You snorted. “You okay there?”

“Fine,” he sniffed, looking down his nose at you once he was back at his full height.

“What are you doing on this side of town anyway? Isn't there a nicer grocery store you could shop at?”

“Well, yeah but I like this one.” Shrugging a shoulder as he spoke.

You eye him suspiciously. So, he did choose to come here. You knew there was another store on the other side of town. It was bigger and newer with all the bells and whistles.

As if he was reading your mind he quickly tacked on, “it's more quiet here. Less crowded.”

You nodded. Slowly moving your cart to finally skirt around him.

“Well, Deputy, enjoy your shopping trip.” Moving past him.

“Hey y/n, how about you let me take you out sometime?” He blurted out before you got too far out of earshot.

“Out?” You turned back around. “Like a date?”

“I mean,” he stepped closer, leaning his elbow on the shelf successfully this time, as he lowered his voice to barely above a whisper.

“Yeah, we can call it a date. I was thinkin’ more along the lines of grabbing a bite to eat then you could invite me back to your room…” his eyes slowly trailed down your body as he spoke.

“How romantic.” You batted your lashes up at him before huffing a laugh. “I guess I should be flattered you actually offered dinner first.”

“So?” He cocked his head expectantly, completely ignoring the words that had just come out of your mouth.

“So, no. I told you I'm not sticking around.”

“Who said it had to be serious? I'm just talkin’ about gettin’ some ass s’all. Havin’ some fun while you're stuck here.” His lips curled up. Maybe he expected you to be taken aback by his bluntness, but you weren't. It just spurred you further.

“Oh, is that all? And how do you know I'm not getting’ dicked down on the daily by someone else? Hmmm?” You smirked when his eyes grew darker. Did you just make him mad? Jealous?

“Oh, sweet thing, I don't believe that for a second.” He chuckled. The air between you seemed to grow a little tense as he shifted on his feet a little.

He stepped a little closer, trying to close the gap between you.

“If that were true, you wouldn't be walkin' ‘round here with that stick up your ass.” He paused, looking you straight in the eye, “I think what ya’ need is someone to fuck this bratty attitude right out of ya’.”

You inched forward, letting your fingers graze his chest as you let them tip toe up.

“And you think you're just the man for the job?”

“Sure am.” He grinned, cocky, thinking he had you.

Your fingers moved up, up until you moved them away, only to boop his nose before completely pulling away and taking a step back.

“You're cute, you know that?” Using his own words that he'd thrown at you that night at the bar.

His mouth hung open slightly, as you turned to leave him there.

“Have a good night, Deputy.”

You faintly heard a “fuck” being muttered as you made your way over to the next aisle.

Two weeks.

Two weeks since your car broke down. Two weeks you’d been sleeping in a roach infested dump. Two weeks of sitting in said dump staring at the same four walls. Two weeks of reluctantly being the newest resident of Stark County.

Frank gave you another half-assed excuse as to why your damn car wasn’t finished this morning. You didn’t know whether he was telling the truth or blowing smoke up your ass for the hell of it. Either way, you were about to tear your hair out.

You volunteered for another double shift just to take your mind off of everything, telling Henry all of your woes for the 100th time, but he listened with a sympathetic ear as usual.

“Hey, not to pile anything on you, but do you think you could close up by yourself tonight? I’ve got to head out early.” He asked, hoping it wouldn’t get your panties even more twisted.

“I don’t mind. It’s not like anything is going on.” You held up your hands, looking around the desolate space. “And I would like to avoid going back to the room for as long as possible.” You felt a shiver run down your spine at the thought of sleeping there another night, though you knew it was inevitable.

He finished up what he was doing and slipped out the back.

It wasn’t unusual to be dead through the week, but this was almost unbearable. The last customer left about 30 minutes before Henry, leaving you alone with your thoughts weighing heavily once more.

It was currently a little past midnight, which meant you had two more hours before clocking out.

Most of the closing duties were done, now it was just you against the clock, hoping no one decided to stumble in here tonight keeping you any longer.

Your back was to the door, wiping down some newly washed glasses. As you put away another on the shelf, the front door flew open, startling you. When you jolted, you nearly dropped the glass but regained your composure.

Heavy footsteps were coming toward the bar as you turned around.

Shocked to see none other than Gator Tillman sliding into the stool directly in front of you. He looked disheveled. His usually perfectly slick hair mussed to the point it was falling in and around his face.

“Gator?” You asked hesitantly.

His eyes darted up to you, big and glossy, a little blood shot at the edges. His cheeks were flushed. Had he already been drinking before he got here?

“Oh, so you do know my name?” He huffed out. “And here I thought I was just Deputy Tillman.” It came out a little slurred.

His usual cheeky demeanor was gone. Replaced with this sarcastic asshole before you now; not an ounce of playfulness to be found. He seemed to be carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders.

“Are you okay?” It seemed dumb to ask, but you couldn't help yourself.

“I'm fine Y/N. Just came here to blow off a little stream, s’all. Nothin’ to worry your pretty little head over.”

“Um sure… Gator, have you been drinking?”

He laughed out loud, lips curling into an unnatural smile. “I might’ve had a few. Might’ve run out. S’why I'm here, I need some more.”

“No, I think you need a cheeseburger and some water.” Placing a glass before him, sliding it into his view since he was staring at the bar top instead of you.

“Give me a Jack. No ice.” He said, without looking up.

“No. I'm not serving you.” Standing your ground could end up with a very pissed off Gator but at least your conscience would be clear. You were already thinking of how you could get his keys.

“Where's Henry? He'll give me what I ask for with no lip.” Finally cutting his eyes up. They were dark and intense. That usual flicker of light within now dim as if the alcohol had taken every semblance of the guy you’ve come to know.

“Not here. It's only me and I'm not serving you whiskey. I'll go make you a burger. Drink that damn water.”

He stared at the glass before him as if it would somehow magically turn into the Jack he'd asked for. Reluctantly, he finally picked it up and raised it to his lips, chugging the contents down within a few seconds.

He dropped it back to the bar top with a thud, still gripped in his hand.

“There, now give me a damn whiskey.”

“Gator, for the last time I'm not fucking serving you whiskey.” You had an idea. Your eyes flickered with delight at the prospect. And if he would cooperate, you'd both get what you needed.

He made to get up, staggering just a little, taking his keys from his pocket. This was your chance.

He looked away for a split second, he held his keys in his fist as he stood once more and turned slightly toward the door.

There was a key ring your fingers grabbed onto and firmly wanked them from his grasp.

He realized too late what was happening. His movements are slower than normal, trying but failing to reach back out for them.

“What the fuck. Give ‘em back.” He held out his hand expectantly.

“Hell no. You aren't going anywhere like this. You trying to kill yourself?” You raised your voice.

There was some look that passed over his features you couldn't quite read. He looked defeated at this moment.

“Look, just sit down. I'll make us both some burgers. We can, uh, have that meal you asked me to.”

That seemed to pique his interest, as his eyebrows edged upward. He nodded slightly and planted his ass back down on the stool as you breathed a small sigh of relief.

“Ok, just stay there. I'm going to lock the door and I'll make you the best damn burger you've ever had.” He didn't respond but you put another glass of water on the bar. “And drink that. I'll be back.”

You left him to it, locking the front door and clicking off the neon “Open” sign. You were sure no one would bother coming by this late and if Henry found out you'd just tell him the truth.

Henry usually cooked but had taught you the ins and outs of the kitchen as well. As the patties cooked on the grill top, you checked through the swinging door to make sure he was still there.

You panicked just a bit when he wasn't at the bar, but he had just moved across the room to one of the booths instead. And much to your surprise had brought the water with him. He wasn't thinking clearly but at least he could still follow directions.

You placed the plate in front of him as his eyes lit up.

“Don't say I never did anything nice for you.” You laughed and took the seat across from him.

He immediately started shoveling fries into his mouth. He wasn't much for manners, but you didn't fault him. He was eating like a man starved.

He hummed around the first bite of his burger as you smiled. You ate in silence, hoping a decent meal would sober him up for what you were about to suggest.

He finished his meal, wiping his mouth with his exposed sleeve and chugged the remaining water.

“Thanks, I need that.” He mumbled.

“Feel better?” You genuinely asked.

“Mmhmm… yeah actually. I uh…” he started.

“Nope, let's not do this ok. Don't start a sappy apology. I uh… may have had some ulterior motives here anyway.” You grinned as he finally lifted his head, furrowing his brows as his lips were set in a slight pout as if he were trying to decipher what you had just said.

“What? What are you…”

“I'm saying that I got you sober enough that at least I'm not taking advantage of you. I'd like to take you up on your offer.”

The realization hit, as he silently replied, “oh.”

He sat quietly for another moment.

“No. I don't need a goddamn pity fuck.”

You were taken aback by his brashness. Maybe this wasn't a good idea.

“I wasn't trying to give you a pity fuck you jackass. It just seemed like we could both use a distraction. But if you're not interested, never mind.” You started to ease out of the booth.

“Wait, wait.” He grabbed your wrist, halting your movements. His touch setting your skin ablaze.

He looked up at you with pleading, puppy dog eyes that pulled at your chest.

“Look, I am a jackass, ok. But I am interested. You've made it very clear you didn't want anything to do with me. Why the sudden change of heart?”

“What does it matter? We're both obviously dealing with some shit… like I said we could use a distraction.” You shrugged, pulling free from his grasp. Taking both of your plates as you slid from the seat.

He watched you disappear into the back of the bar.

Ok, she's giving me a chance. Don't fuck this up. I'm a winner. Come on. He tried to pump himself up.

It took a few minutes to wash up the dishes and put them away. Emerging from the back, he was still sitting in the booth.

“Listen,” you spoke up. “I've got a few more things to do before I can head out. You wanna just meet me at my room in about an hour?”

He stood, no stagger this time and in a few large strides he crossed the room stopping directly in front of you.

He took you by surprise, grabbing your hips, pulling you completely flush to his.

You let out a little squeak that his lips quickly cut off when they met yours.

He wasn't gentle, fingertips digging in where they met you through your shirt. You didn't need or want gentle. He was doing exactly what you hoped he would.

His lips were slightly chapped but glided against your cherry glossed ones with ease. You wrapped one hand around the base of his neck, nails raking through his hair as your other finds his bicep.

He was guiding you, fingers finding the hem of your shirt, skirting upwards, uncovering the supple flesh beneath.

His touch sent goosebumps across your bare skin. It was then his tongue danced along your bottom lip, begging for entry.

Your lips parted, his tongue immediately finding the opening, moving against yours so naturally.

You suddenly needed more, pulling him even closer, easing yourself upward to meet him on the tips of your toes.

It was suddenly a clash of teeth and tongue. Your hand glided from his bicep to his waist pulling him in.

He broke your kiss with a groan. It gave you both a moment to catch your breath. Pants being shared between you.

You took the opportunity, running your hand lower, palming his now very prominent bulge. You were surprised he was actually backing that cocky attitude.

“Fuck,” he hissed out, breath fanning your cheek.

“You're getting ahead of yourself big boy. I still need to close up.” You nipped at his neck, inching yourself backward.

“No, let me make you feel good. Let me taste you. Fuck, I need to taste you.” His voice raspy, whiny with need.

His words went straight to your core. Not sure what you were expecting, but him offering to go down on you wasn't one of them. Gator seemed very selfish, not someone who would so willingly give.

“Yeah, fuck yeah.” Willing yourself to answer as you nodded. But then it hit you. Where the fuck would you go in here?

As if he already knew what you were thinking, he grabbed your hand leading you over to the pool table.

He let go to shed his jacket into the nearest booth, as you slid up onto the felt lining, easing your ass over the lip.

You'd worn a skirt today, now thanking yourself for the easy access, as you spread your thighs to accommodate his frame.

He turned back to you. Eyes trailing up. You were like prey caught by the big, bad wolf as he licks his lips ready to devour you.

You leaned back, spreading your legs a little further, skirt rucking up, soaked panties on display.

He came to slot himself between your thighs, pulling your hips toward the edge to meet his hard cock coming to rest against your clothed core.

You had no choice but to wrap your arms around his neck to steady yourself as you gasped out.

“What's wrong, sweet thing?” He smirked, as he brought his hand up to the back of your head, threading his fingers through your hair tugging the roots making you meet his gaze.

“I…” smug bastard had the audacity to roll his hips when you tried to speak, nudging your clit slightly, pulling a small moan from you.

“Yeah, that's it. Let me hear those pretty sounds, yeah?”

This wasn't you. Letting a man reduce you to putty in his hands. You decided to throw him off, taking your legs and locking them firmly around his waist, and rolling your hips into his.

“Look at you, like a little whore in heat.” He lowered his head, lips ghosting the shell of your ear. “I fucking knew you wanted me.”

You gasped out again when he brought his broad palms against your thighs pushing them back against the table. His thumbs rubbing higher, up under the fabric of your skirt making you shudder.

He pulled back slightly to look down at you.

“Now, be a good girl and sit still f’me.”

His fingertips traveled up, hooking into the fabric so he could pull them down, lifting your ass so he could remove them.

Once he had you bare, he tucked them into his pocket for safe keeping.

His eyes darkened, breath hitching slightly once he caught sight of your bare cunt.

You were positively soaked, glistening before him.

Feeling a little brazen, you spoke up “Are you going to put your money where your mouth is or just stare at me all night like you've never seen a pussy before? ” Wiggling your ass closer to the edge as you spoke.

He didn't respond, you watched as he licked at his bottom lip and began lowering himself to the floor. Once he knelt in front of you, face to face with you, he finally spoke.

“Look at that sweet little pussy, already drooling f’me.” He slid his hands under your ass, pulling you closer to the edge, closer to his waiting mouth.

He pushed your left thigh up over his shoulder, scooting closer still, using his arm to force your other leg further open to accommodate him. His hand delicately moves your skirt further up your hips giving him full access.

You jolt when he lightly runs a fingertip up your slit. Not enough to penetrate but shooting embers through your core.

“I bet she tastes so good, huh?” Placing a kiss to your inner thigh, then another and another. Working his way toward where you needed him most.

“Please…” it's as if the word left on its own accord as it hung in the air between you. It was so breathy you'd hoped he'd mistake it for another moan.

“What's that sweet thing?” No such luck.

You look down at him, he's grinning over your mound with this mischievous glint to his eyes. You know what he's about to say before it even tumbles from his lips.

“Please what baby?”

You roll your eyes letting your head thump back against the tabletop.

“Please Gator, quit teasing. I ne… want you to fuck me.” You quickly huffed out.

He chuckled lightly, letting his finger and thumb part your lips, while his breath fanned over your sticky folds.

He hummed as he looked down, catching a glance once more before he brought his tongue down. Flattening it against your core, licking a fat stripe from your leaking entrance as he let the tip finally catch your clit.

“Oh fuck!” You moaned out. Relief. It flooded through your veins and much as it ignited you further.

He didn't stop, moving his tongue down and back up to expertly swirl it against your puffy clit.

Your back arched, pushing your pussy further into his face. His eyes flicked up to you, relishing the way he was already making you come undone.

He moved his hand from around your ass to wrap it around your leg, making sure you couldn't squirm away as his lips came to wrap around your bundle of nerves. Sucking harshly, then soothing it again with a soft lick.

You fisted your hands at your sides, fighting the urge to run your fingers through his hair.

You felt his thick finger tease your entrance as his lips remained sealed to you.

“Mmmm… yes, please. I need more.” You tried to grind your hips, but he had you firmly pinned.

He slowly inserted his finger, pushing into your velvety walls with ease, as another wanton moan left your lips.

He pulled out, only to insert a second upon re-entry. His fingers alone were filling you up in such a way your own never could.

Your cunt pulsed around him, as he hummed into you, the vibrations only adding to your pleasure.

It had been a long time since you'd been touched by anyone but yourself and your orgasm was creeping up at an embarrassingly fast rate.

He curved his digits upward with every drag, as he was hit that sweet, spongy spot within you. You knew you wouldn't last much longer.

“Gator don't stop. Right there!” He was happy to oblige, keeping his current pace but applied more pressure to your clit, working his tongue back and forth.

Your hands finally found purchase, tugging at his hair. He hummed again, filing that mental note away for later.

“It feels so good, don't… mmmm… don't fucking stop!”

Those embers were fully formed flames, licking up your spine, igniting every nerve within your core.

The pressure kept building, as you were teetering along the edge, ready to let go.

Your orgasm hit with blinding force, your legs began to shake around him as sparks soared behind your eyes, with a cry of his name he worked you through your high.

He unattached his lips, “that's it sweet thing, cum on my fingers. Yeah, you look so goddamn pretty like this, and I haven't even fucked you yet.”

Your cunt clenched around him once more with his words, as you tried to pull away from him, starting to feel oversensitive. He pulled his fingers from you, only to wrap his lips around them sucking them clean of any remnants of your arousal.

“Mmmm… so fucking sweet. I knew you'd taste good.”

He watches the way your chest is still heaving, trying to catch your breath. He takes the opportunity to raise himself up, pushing himself back between your thighs.

His cock is fucking aching and rock hard. He'd fuck you right here and now if you'd let him.

He leans slightly back over you, his cock nudging your cunt, as you whimper and finally open your eyes in time to see his shit eating grin, as he wipes the rest of your arousal from his face with the back of his hand.

“You good?” He finally asks.

There was something in his eyes that told you that you were in for a long night.

You nod pathetically, as you attempt to sit up, but your bones feel like jello.

He closes the distance, caging you in, hands splayed out on either side of you, as he speaks close to your ear, breath fanning your cheek.

“Yeah? You want me t’bend you over right here or are we going back t’your room? Your choice sweet thing, but either way I'm fuckin’ ya’ now.”

He pulls back slightly to gauge your response. You look up at him, soft doe eyes and pouty kiss-bitten lips. He's fucked. He knows it right then and there.

“Fuck, Gator. We can't fuck here. Let me grab my purse.” You push at his chest to give you some space.

He takes a few steps back, as you hop down from the pool table on wobbly legs and straighten your skirt back down.

“You aren't closin’ up?” He chuckled.

“Fuck it,” waving your hand dismissively as you walk to the back. “I work morning shift; I'll do it then.”

You quickly gathered your belongings, throwing your coat over your shoulders, shutting off the lights as you head back up front. You knew you'd be kicking yourself in the few hours you'd have to be back in for your shift but at this moment you couldn't find it within yourself to care.

You shot through the double doors, as his hands reached out and grabbed you from behind, pulling you in as he nuzzled his face into your neck.

“I can't keep my hands off of you. You're so fuckin’ hot.”

You giggle, feeling like a horny teen. It was new, exciting and as you reminded yourself just for tonight.

“Gator, come on. Let's go.” He grabbed a handful of your ass before reluctantly letting you go.

He followed you closely out the door, as you turned to lock up, he stayed there, head on a swivel, surveying the parking lot void of any life this time of night.

“Okay.” You said, pushing your hands into your pockets, suddenly realizing you still had his keys.

“Oh shit, here.” You dug them out from your purse and handed them over.

“Thanks, sweet thing, come on.” He went ahead of you and jumped into the driver's seat, turning the ignition just as quickly. You pulled yourself up, taking the opportunity to scoot right in next to him, thigh pressed tightly into his.

He stiffens as you place your hand high on his thigh, sliding it slowly, close to where his cock rests, still straining against his confines just begging to be released.

At the same time, you press your face close to his jaw, placing small kisses up, nibbling his ear lobe. You continued sliding your hand further up, finally rubbing him through his pants, causing his breath to hitch.

“Fuck, ok, ok. Let me just get us across the road.”

You giggled out, as you sat back in the seat. He seemed just as eager as you were.

“Ok big boy, let's go.”

The Midway was almost directly across the road from the Lucky Lizard, making it a quick trip.

“Which room is it?” He asked, eyes cutting to you for a moment.

“203, just up there.” Pointing in the general direction, as he slowed when he got close.

“I'll let you out, I've got to park ‘round back.” He stopped directly in front of the door.

“Yeah, sure.” You understood but it didn't hurt any less. You knew it was a dump, home to more than a couple of drug addicts but you also knew his job. It would be an embarrassment to be seen here.

You let it roll off you, as you swung the door open and stepped inside. It gave you a few minutes to freshen up and spritz a little perfume to your pulse points, as he knocked on the door.

You crossed the small space, opening the door wide, bidding him in quickly.

“I know it's not much,” you began.

“S’fine.” He said, looking around the desolate space. The only hint that you lived here was the large suitcase in the corner overflowing with your clothes and shoes.

He let his jacket fall from his shoulders, placing it on top of the dresser, toeing his boots off there as well. You had already removed your outerwear leaving you in your skirt and short sleeved shirt you'd worn all day.

He didn't look your way as he sat on the end of the bed, letting out a large sigh as the springs groaned under his weight.

For a moment he seemed distracted, with this faraway look in his eye that had you second guessing yourself, as his hand scrubbed down the side of his face.

As if he felt the weight of your stare, he looked up, “C’mere sweet thing,” patting his thighs. In normal circumstances something like that would piss you off but at this point you'd let it slide.

You crossed the small distance between you. As soon as you were close enough, he grabbed your hips once more, but you were ready this time as you steadied yourself.

Your fingertips hooked under his chin lifting lightly so he would have to look at you. His eyes were half lidded, from lust or the late hour you weren't sure, but his gaze was soft, pupils blown wide.

“Hey handsome, how about I return the favor?” You purred, as his hand roamed the expanse of your thighs, finding your ass and pulling you further into him.

You trailed a fingertip across his jaw, nail catching on stubble that was trying to form as you watched his Adam's apple bob.

Trailing it lower, down his broad chest as you began to sink to the floor between his thighs, knees pressing into the rough carpeting.

Your hands came to rest in either of his thighs, as he eagerly undid his belt and unsnapped the button of his pants. That's when you stopped him.

“Let me,” your voice was sticky sweet, as you batted his hands away, replacing them with your own, taking the zipper and slowly lowering it.

You palmed at his still clothed erection, eliciting a soft hiss from him.

He groaned, as your fingers trailed to his waistband, he aided you by lifting his hips letting you pull his pants and boxers down his hairy thighs.

His cock sprang free, the head landing just at his navel. You knew he was big, but you hadn't expected this much. You were staring at a goddamn python.

He was long, but also thick. His fat mushroom tip was flushed, a prominent vein travels down the underside of his shaft. The thought of him between your legs made your thighs involuntary clench.

“Fuck,” it was just a whisper, but he still heard it as he smirked.

“What's the matter, sweet thing? Never seen a cock before?” That teasing tone was back but you rolled your eyes in response, wrapping your hand around as much of his base that you could.

You angled him more toward you, leaning down spitting on the tip, as his hips bucked up slightly.

“Fuck, you're a dirty girl.” He grunted, the women he usually fucks were all to timid to take charge or even offer a blow job.

You ran your hand up his length, reaching the top, smearing the mixture of your saliva and his precum expertly. Taking the time to run your thumb across his slit and ruddy head at an agonizingly slow pace before finally stroking back down, as you began pumping lightly.

His breath hitched as he watched you, you were focused solely on him and the task at hand.

You brought your mouth closer, lips sticky with newly reapplied gloss as you placed a soft kiss to the tip, before flicking your tongue to the same spot. Getting the response you were after when you heard him whimper.

You grinned against him, ready to destroy this man.

You wrapped your lips around him, sucking lightly before flattening your tongue, taking as much of him as your mouth and throat would allow.

“Oh fuck,” he moaned out, as if you’d taken him by surprise. His face screwed up with pleasure as he closed his eyes. You wondered if it had been a while since he'd felt a woman's soft touch, so used to his calloused hands providing his own relief.

As the salty tang of him hit your tongue you moaned around him. The vibrations made him shudder, relaxing your throat to take him further as you continued to stroke his length.

You began to bob your head, hollowing your cheeks applying more pressure to his member.

“Goddamn sweet thing,” he breathed out, daring to glance down. You were a vision with his dick between your lips. When you looked up at him there were unshed tears along your lash line. It was enough to make him cum right then and there.

It was then you decided to pick up your pace, seeing his fucked-out expression spurred you on.

“Fuck,” he hissed out, gripping the back of your hair, tugging you back until you pulled off with a wet pop.

“You keep doing that, I'm gonna cum. I need to fuck you.” You nodded, as those words went straight to your core, pussy clenching around nothing.

“You uh, you got a condom? I didn't really come prepared.”

“Gator, I just had my mouth around your cock, if I was worried about that I wouldn't have gone down on you. I'm on birth control.” You shrugged.

“Fuck, yeah ok.” He nodded.

You quickly rose to your feet, slotting your thighs on either side of his, sinking down as his cock met your bare cunt, gliding easily through your folds bumping your clit on the way.

You moaned out in unison, as he found the hem of your shirt pulling it over your head. His lips immediately finding the tender flesh of your neck, just below your jaw sucking a small bruise there before soothing it with his tongue.

His hands palm your tits through your bra, before quickly finding the clasp at the back. He's undoing it with expertise, as the straps begin to slide down your shoulders.

He wastes no time, he pushes the cups down as his large palms engulf your breasts. His calloused hands are a little rough against your nipples, causing another moan to escape you.

You pull away slightly to capture his lips into a heated kiss. He wraps his arms around you, only to lift you off the bed with him, moving to lay you onto your back.

You let out a small squeak of surprise but he's immediately back between your thighs, gliding his cock between through your soaked folds.

“Mmmm… Gator, please don't tease me anymore.” You huffed out.

He chuckled lightly in response, but sat up to remove his shirt, kicking his pants the rest of the way off his legs. You followed his lead, lifting your hips and sliding your skirt down your plush thighs.

“Fuck, look at you.” He said, lowering himself back down.

He brought two fingers up to your lips, as he barked out “open.” Sliding them in, letting them close around his large digits and letting your tongue swirl against the rough pads.

“Good girl,” he brought them straight to your aching clit, rubbing tight circles against you.

“Mmmm… fuck.” You moaned out, keening into his touch.

He bent down, laving his tongue between your breasts. His mouth was hot, as he sucked your hardened bud between his lips. Your hands flew to his hair, pushing it back from his face tugging harshly at the roots.

He didn't let up, as he moved off your clit to pinch the other between his thumb and finger.

The sensation has you crying out. You weren't in the mood for any more teasing. The ache between your legs was almost unbearable.

You were surprised at his patience this far. Half expecting him to start railing you as soon as he entered the room.

You pulled his face up to yours, giving him no choice but to crawl up your body, meeting you lips once more. You firmly locked your legs around his waist and rolled your hips.

You swallowed each other's moans, as you repeated the motion, his tip catching your clit at just the right angle.

“No more teasing. Let's see if you know how to use that thing or if that cocky attitude is all you have.” Wiggling your hips against him as you spoke.

His eyes darkened, as he looked up at you as if it ignited something within him.

“I know how to use it, just wonderin’ if that tight pussy can handle it.” He reached between you, lining himself up with your entrance as you spread your legs further apart.

His fat tip breaches, as he pushes in slightly with a groan.

“Oh fuck,” throwing your head back, already feeling the stretch.

“Fuck, you are tight,” he hisses, watching himself as he sinks a little deeper.

Your brow starts to scrunch, closing your eyes as your mouth goes slack, a silent moan trying to escape but it feels caught in your throat.

He starts to move again, inch by inch, he slowly splits you open. You're trying not to think about the smug look he's surely got on his face. If you had opened your eyes, you would have seen he was just as fucked out as you were.

Your nails dig crescents where they rest, fingers gripping his shoulders tighter the deeper he goes.

He finally pushes to the hilt, as you let out a breath you hadn't realized you were holding, coming out as a whimper.

He looks down at you then, the almost pained expression on your face pulls him out of his own stuper.

“Hey, you ok?” The softness of his tone grabbed your attention the most. You looked back up to see his eyes worrying over your features.

You nodded, “mhmm… I just need a minute. It's been a while and, not to inflate your already huge ego, but you're not exactly average.”

His lips curled up into that crooked smile like the first time you'd seen him at the bar. It genuinely made you smile back.

The pinch slowly started to subside, as you asked him to move.

He slowly pulled back, almost removing himself completely, immediately sinking back in. He was taking his time, not at all what you expected. You’d wanted rough, for him to fuck your goddamn brains out.

“Gator, I need more. Harder.” Your heels pressed into his ass to get your point across.

“You sure?”

“Yes, goddamnit! Fuck me!”

He shoved himself back, pulling out of you completely.

“What are you…?”

“Y’want it rough, flip over. Ass up.” When you didn't immediately move, he added “c’mon sweet thing. Up.”

You did as you were told, rolling over and arching your ass up. You looked over your shoulder, as he grabbed onto your hip lining himself up with your dripping entrance.

“You asked for it, whore.” He breathed out as he pushed back in hard enough to punch the air from your lungs.

He wasn't soft this time, didn't bother to ask if you were okay.

You whined out with each pump, as he started to set a brutal pace. He began to pull your hips back in time to meet each thrust.

“That it, huh? This what y’wanted?”

You didn't answer, nodding as best you could with your cheek pressed into the mattress.

His hand came down hard across your ass cheek that sent you lurching forward.

“I asked you a question. This what y'wanted? Huh?”

“Yeah, yes. It's… it's what I… mmmm… wanted.” Panting out as he continued to rail you.

He leaned over, reaching his arm under your chest placing his hand around your throat. Squeezing lightly, as if he were testing the waters.

When your pussy fluttered and another moan fell from your lips when he applied more pressure it gave him all the go ahead he needed.

He hauled you up with him; your back pressed tightly to his sweaty chest with his hand still wrapped around your throat as you gripped his wrist and forearm.

He slowed his motions, only to put his lips close to your ear, “You know what they call whores who like to fuck cops? They're badge bunnies. Y’wanna be my little bunny since y’like bouncing on this cock?”

“Fuck, Gator.” You wailed out.

“I'll take that as a yes.”

He releases your neck, letting you fall forward against the mattress, holding your hip with one hand as he brings the other up between your legs as he quickly finds your clit.

You grip the sheets, as he begins rubbing harsh circles there, his length continuously stimulating that sweet spot within you with every drag against your velvety walls. It had you clenching around him as that coil within you tightened.

“You close bunny?” A little bunny, trapped by the big bad wolf. Ensnared. Nowhere to run.

“Ughhh, fuck, yeah.” All coherent thoughts pushed from your mind.

He was working you toward the edge, tighter and tighter your lower belly wound.

“Please, don't stop! Don't stop!”

He didn't let up, working your clit with the same, unrelenting pace as his cock split you open again and again in the best possible way.

“I'm not sweet thing. Can I… fuck… can I cum in this pussy?” He grunted out, trying to stave off his own. He wanted to feel you cum around his cock.

“Yes! Cum in me!”

“Fuck, I need you to cum all over my dick. C’mon baby. Need to feel you. Give it to me.”

His words only encouraged your orgasm, that coil wound tighter and tighter until it finally snapped.

You came with a shout of his name followed by “oh God, oh God, oh God” as those fireworks flew behind your eyes. It was the best orgasm anyone had ever given you. You were fucking ruined.

He continued to work you through it until you whimpered into the sheets below.

He grabbed your hips with both hands, surely to leave bruises in their wake, pulling you back to meet his punishing thrusts.

Your senses were overwhelmed and your pussy was starting to ache from overuse.

“Gator, please…” you weren't sure what you were begging for.

“Yeah, Bunny? Yeah? I'm gonna fuckin’ ruin this pussy for anyone else. Gonna be all mine from now on.” He started blabbering.

His hips stuttered, thrusts becoming a little erratic, as he started to spill inside of you. He pulled your hips flush to his, as he painted your walls with his thick ropes of cum.

“Fuckfuckfuck… that's it, that's fuckin' it.”

He stilled leaning over your back, as your legs began to give out, releasing the grip on you as he finally pulled out.

He rolled off of you, lying there beside you as you both caught your breath.

“Care if I take a nap here? I'm up in a few hours back on patrol. Don't feel like drivin’ all the way across town.”

It caught you off guard. You hadn't actually had someone sleep beside you after sex in years, but it was just one night. He'd most likely be gone before the sunrise.

“Uh, sure. I'm going to shower.” Getting up without turning back to him, you heard him mumble something under his breath as he made himself more comfortable throwing the covers over his waist.

You showered quickly just to scrub the day from yourself. The hot water heater didn't last more than 10 minutes in this damn place.

When you were finished, Gator was laying on his stomach. Arms stretched under his pillows, hair strewn in his face as soft snores escaped him.

Your eyes drank him in. Curves and plains of his strong back, moles and freckles scattered like a constellation. The sheet just barely covers his ass. You softly roll your eyes when you notice his boxers on the floor by the bed.

Your gaze flicked up, noticing a tattoo on his bicep. Snorting to yourself when you realized what it was. It was hideous but very much on brand. Making a mental note to make sure to give him hell for it later.

The bed was small, but he had scooted as far to the right that he could, giving you room to lay down beside him. Thoughtful, again he surprised you.

You threw on a tank and some clean panties, easing yourself in beside him under the sheets. He shifted just a bit, mumbling to himself before settling back in.

You turned over on your side away from him, making sure to keep a little distance between you before finally drifting off.

Gator woke a couple of hours later, turning slightly to see your sleeping form beside him. It was still dark out, a sliver of light coming in through the slit in the curtains just enough to illuminate you.

He tried to be quiet as he gathered his clothes from around the room easing them back on his body.

He checked his phone. More than a few missed calls and one single text from Roy.

Where the fuck are you?

He knew he'd get more shit as soon as he got home. After their blowout last night he's surprised no one came looking for him but that would actually mean Roy cared about his well-being.

He sat back down on the bed as softly as he could, trying not to disturb you. He watched a cockroach crawl across the toe of his boot as he laced it. His lip curled up in disgust at the thought of you living here.

Maybe he could help you out if you decided to stay but he knew that was wishful thinking. You'd also made it clear last night was a one time thing but maybe he could change your mind.

He used his phone as a light to find a small notepad and pen on your nightstand. Jotting down his number, with a simple just in case scrawled out.

He took one more look at you sleeping peacefully, slowly letting his fingers trace the curve of your cheek, moving the hair from your face.

He finally understood what his dad had always warned him about. He felt weak with this overwhelming urge to protect you. He didn't really understand it. But deep down he was hoping you'd somehow feel the same.

You woke up with a stretch and a groan. You'd slept cramped, pushed to the edge, careful not to touch the man beside you.

You turned over to a cold spot, suddenly wondering when he'd left.

Sitting up, you reached for your water at your bedside, raising it to your lips but stopped, noticing a note left there.

You gingerly picked it up. He'd left his number.

You thought about tossing it but instead grabbed your phone and input the info, quickly moving screens and typing out a text then erasing it.

You chewed the skin on your thumb, as you looked at the blank message, typing it out again.

Thanks. You took my mind off shit for a while.

Hitting send before chickening out, immediately slamming the phone down on the bed.

One time. It was supposed to be a one time thing.

He had responded to your text later that day with:

Sure bunny. you free tonite?

You had thoroughly ignored it for 2 hours before you texted him back, telling him what time he could swing by the motel after a customer had pissed you off.

It had been like that most nights since.

There were also those nights when he'd pick you up from work, always making sure to come in before close.

Taking the same seat at the bar, you'd happily grab him his usual Jack Daniels over ice. It was small talk at first but gradually became a little more.

You would laugh at his stupid jokes or tell him that he should tell his dad off after he had yet another blow out with him. He left out a lot of the details but you had inferred enough to know he was a piece of shit.

And after close, he'd slip his tongue past your lips as soon as you walked out the door, kissing you hard enough to melt the rest of the day away. His hands were all over you until you managed to get him into the truck to make that small drive across the road.

You’d fucked on just about every surface of that motel room, including some sketchy shower sex that almost landed you both in the hospital when you’d lost your footing.

He couldn’t take you back to his dad’s house, so a week later, he’s got you in the cab of his truck bouncing on his cock like your life depended on it.

The windows were fogged up, anyone passing by could easily tell what was currently playing out. He’d parked in a clearing off a gravel road, close to his ranch but far enough away that no one would bother the two of you.

His cock was kissing your cervix each time your hips met his, at this angle it felt like he was in your guts. It was on the verge of being too much but that familiar ache in your lower belly told you to keep going. You were almost to the finish line.

He currently held his hand against your throat, after he'd figured out you liked it, he started taking it a little further each time.

“I feel her gripping me, your close Bunny. Keep fuckin’ goi…” He was interrupted when a banging on the glass startled you both.

Your movements halted, both looking like deer in headlights.

“Gator, c’mon out son. Need a moment.” Roy's voice rang out against the silence.

“Fuck,” he hissed, through gritted teeth, throwing his head back onto the headrest as you quickly moved off of him, pulling down your skirt and straightening your hair sitting up in the passenger seat.

He shoved his now softening cock back into his pants, zipping them up and jumping out of the truck, slamming it shut.

You picked up your panties from the dirty floor, and shoved them into your purse. From this vantage point you couldn't hear much of what was being said, but it was mostly Roy’s muffled voice coming through.

The more you learned about their relationship the more it turned your stomach. It was one-sided, Roy asking him to jump and Gator immediately asking how high.

You had made up your mind about Roy after that first meeting. The way he treated Gator was disgusting.

After a few more agonizing minutes, the truck door finally opened back up to reveal a very crestfallen Gator.

He hopped in without saying a word, turning the ignition and throwing it into drive. He punched the gas, throwing you back into the seat.

“What the fuck, Gator?!” You yelled, gripping the door as he peeled onto the gravel road.

“Daddy really put you in a bad mood, huh?” It slipped out with a patronizing tone.

“Fuck you!” He spat, pulling his vape from his pocket, letting it hit his lips expelling that sickly sweet smelling fruit that you've come to loathe.

“I mean, we tried that before we were so rudely interrupted back there.” You laughed to yourself.

“Goddamnit,” he hit the steering wheel with his fist, “Just shut the fuck up!”

“Fine. Just take me back to the Midway and don't bother texting me later when you get bored. Fuck you, asshole!” You huffed, crossing your arms and sinking a little deeper into the seat before staring out the window.

Regret started to pool within you. It was bound to happen. It always ended like this. You could never hold your tongue, letting insults roll off so easily.

It felt like the longest ride back across town. He'd pulled up to the curb not even bothering to put the truck in park as you hopped out slamming the door behind you.

A few days passed successfully avoiding him all together. You'd contemplated deleting his number, your thumb hovering over the button each time, then slamming your phone back down.

It was just sex. You could cut ties now and let it be. Once that damn car is done, skipping town would be easy.

It was another gloomy, snowy day in Lehigh. And yet another excuse from Frank.

The heat in your room quit working, so you'd spent the morning moving your stuff down to another room that Maggie had gotten ready for you.

You'd hoped a shower might clear your head, relax you for a bit. It seemed to only make things worse. You were tired.

Checking your phone you were met with a text you'd been dreading.

You still in town?

Ignoring it, you laid down hoping a nap would do you some good.

Waking a couple hours later, you had a few missed calls and more texts from Gator.

Can we talk?

I came by the motel. Your room was empty. Did you leave?

Hello?

You groaned, sitting up.

Finally relenting and typing out a reply.

You almost sound worried, big boy. I'm fine. You can kindly fuck off now.

It began to buzz in your hand as you hit ignore. It continued off and on most of the day. A few more missed calls and messages, later that afternoon it finally stopped.

You breathed a small sigh of relief, curling back under the covers shutting the world out. Just how you preferred it.

You dozed in and out of consciousness. The TV provides soothing background noise keeping you snoozing all afternoon.

You were wrenched from your slumber when someone began to pound on the door. Dazed for a few seconds, before the pounding started again.

“Fuck, give me a second!” You yelled across the room, stumbling from the bed uncaring how you looked, sleep shorts and thin tank top with your hair askew.

Immediately jerking the door open, you’re face to face with a very agitated looking Gator. He must have been working today, dressed in his vest and gloves.

“Fuck no.” You said, and started to close the door. He was quicker, placing his boot clad foot in the way preventing you from pushing it shut.

“Move Gator.” You hissed.

“You’ve been ignoring me.”

“No shit. I told you not to bother. I should have blocked your ass. Now, move!” You shoved a little harder to no avail.

“What the fuck are you mad for, huh? You didn't get to cum that day, that it? There's a lot of things you don't understand. A lot of shit I can't talk about.”

You swung the door open, as you locked eyes with his.

“Oh, no I get it. I see it. You let daddy tell you what to do. You've been sneaking around with a whore and finally got caught, right?” He looked away, tugging his bottom lip between his teeth. Bingo.

Nodding your head as he finally looked back up to you.

“Yeah, that's what I thought. It's fine.”

“No, it's not fine.” He finally spoke up. “Can I come in? Just for a few minutes.”

“Why, Gator? We both know what this was. Just some fun, nothing serious. Remember? You don't owe me an explanation. You don't owe me anything.” You laughed, but it died out once you noticed the look on his face.

If it was nothing serious, why did he look at you like you'd just knocked the wind out him? Big, glossy puppy dog eyes just like that first night you'd hooked up.

If it was nothing serious, why did your chest ache at the thought of hurting him?

“Gator, I…” You couldn't finish that sentence, he moved so quickly and in your groggy state before you could register what was happening, he placed one hand on your hip as he brought the other up to cradle the back of your head.

He kissed you so deeply, yet it had you yearning for more. You surprised him when you kissed him back, sucking his bottom lip between yours before letting go to look back up at him.

“Fuck, Y/N. I've… I've fuckin' missed you.” It came out quickly. A rushed confession you'd been expecting but to hear him say it out loud, only solidified what you'd been feeling. The reason you'd been so depressed the last couple of days missing his company.

You'd been on your own for so long, you'd forgotten what it actually meant to miss someone. For someone to miss you. It wasn't just about the sex anymore.

“It's only been a couple days.” You grinned, pushing your fingers through the short hair at the nape of his neck.

“I know, I just thought you'd left and…”

You brought a finger to his lips.

“It's ok. I'm here.” For now.

“Yeah, you are Bunny. And I'm not letting you get away so easily.”

You didn't want to put a label on this or did you? Would that be so bad?

You started moving quickly, helping him out of his jacket, his shirt flying over his head in a flurry. He walked you back, letting your knees hit the edge of the mattress, laying you back slowly.

His lips sealed to yours with a searing kiss. You were needy. Tongue and teeth. Pushing and pulling at each other.

Your hands flew to his buckle, undoing it with ease. Taking him in your palm as he moaned into your mouth.

He palmed your breast through your shirt as his thumb grazed over your nipple. Your body arched into him, already craving more as he began peppering kisses along your jaw.

“I fuck… Gator… I need you. Now.”

“I've got to get you warmed up sweet thing.” He chided.

“No, now. Please.” You whimpered.

He moved his hand lower, sliding your sleep shorts to the side, immediately his fingers trailed to your entrance already dripping arousal.

“Fuck, so wet.”

“I told you, I need you. Don't make me beg.” You pleaded.

He moved his digits up, swirling them around your clit, eliciting those sweet sounds he was looking for.

Removing his hand from you, he lifted himself up so he could push his boxers past his hips. He brought his palm up to your mouth, “Spit. Yeah, good girl.”

Bringing his hand to his cock, smearing a mixture of your spit and his precum down his length.

He slid your sleep shorts back over with one hand and guided himself to your entrance.

You had to will yourself to breathe as his tip began to stretch your inner walls. It was too much and not enough.

He slowly filled your aching pussy, as you wrapped your legs around him, eager to have him pressed into you.

“How are you always so goddamn tight?” He said, as you whimpered out, his cock pushing in to the hilt.

Immediately, he pulls out, only to push back in feeling deeper than before. The force of his hips pushing you further up the mattress with each thrust.

The pretty noises he drew from you only made him double his efforts. Picking up his pace, but rolling his hips a little upward each time. The wiry curls at the base of his cock nudging your clit each time his hips meet yours.

“Gator, I'm… mmmm… I'm close.”

“Yeah, bunny? Gonna strangle my cock? Gonna let me have it?”

You nodded as your eyes rolled back, it was closer than you thought.

Your orgasm hit with a scream of his name, as your pussy clamped down like a vice around him.

“Oh, fuck.” He tried to work you through it, but with your cunt pulsing around him he was done. He spilled his thick ropes inside your velvety walls as you milked everything from him.

“Fuckfuckfuck, filling this pussy full baby.”

He finally stilled, collapsing onto you, nearly crushing you in the best possible way.

He moved his arms up under your back pressing his face into your chest, mumbling something you couldn't quite hear as you brushed the hair from his face.

“What, baby?” You whispered down to him.

Baby. Baby. Baby. The first time you'd called him by a pet name. He grinned from his spot on your chest.

“Nothing, sweet thing. Just talkin’ to myself.”

You hummed absentmindedly, raking your fingers through his hair.

“How'd you know where I was?” Suddenly remembering all of those desperate texts and calls.

He pulled his head up to look at you, resting his chin on your sternum.

“Well, I asked that lady at the front desk. Tough old broad to crack.” You giggled, Maggie would never rat you out. “So, I started bangin’ on all the doors until I found yours.”

“Gator! You're crazy.” You laughed out.

“Crazy for you.” He mumbled pulling you on for a slow kiss.

“Wanna shower and stay the night?” You asked when he pulled away.

“Of course Bunny.” The nickname was unfortunately sticking around but you didn't mind.

You'd showered together, he didn't care that he'd go back home to Roy in the morning smelling like your vanilla body wash or rose scented shampoo. He'd made up his mind you were worth the shit he'd hear from him. That's all it was, shit.

He pulled you into his chest as you curled up into the sheets. Neither of you were very tired so you watched some TV and talked long into the night until your eyes grew heavy.

He'd be there when you woke up this time, groggy smiles and giggles between the sheets as he fucked you slow, taking you to breakfast afterwards.

It was the first time you hadn't felt like you were hidden away.

After that last night, things began to shift between you. The lingering looks, soft touches and post orgasmic bliss of tangling your limbs together while falling asleep wasn't something you shared with someone you didn't care about.

The secrets shared in the dark, confessions from you both crumbling that wall you had built up so high you were sure nothing would bring it down, especially someone like Gator Tillman.

He's arrogant, disgusting and rude. But somehow exactly what you need because he'd do anything to show you he's there for you.

You know it wasn't a coincidence your car was fixed the day after mentioning it to him. Frank had been jerking you around, thinking he could get more money out of you.

He was sporting a newly broken nose and wrist when he handed over the keys with a frown etched to his face.

The car was fixed. The one thing holding you back from leaving Lehigh for good.

As you pulled up to the Midway, he was parked there waiting for you, leaned against the truck, his favorite green cap on backwards with a cloud of smoke exiting his lips, slipping his vape back into his pocket when he spotted you.

You got out, your heart hammering in your chest. Neither of you ever had questioned what might come next.

He shoved his hands into his pockets as you came to stand in front of him.

“So?” He tilted his head, looking down at you.

“So…” You looked at the keys held in your fist. That voice in the back of your head kept warning you. Time to run, little bunny. Make your escape while you still can.

“Your car's fixed. You uh… plannin’ on leavin’?”

“I haven't thought about it.”

He snorted, “Yeah, that's bullshit.”

He moved, as you watched him walk around to the front of the truck.

“Hop in. I wanna show ya’ somethin’.”

He drove you across town, and winding down a few back roads.

“If you wanted to go parking, you could’ve just said so, handsome.” You laughed.

He rolled his eyes, “It's not that. Just trust me.”

Trust. Such a powerful word. Something the two of you built over the last month. You did trust him.

You reached over to intertwine your fingers through his, as he smiles back at you.

He pulled up to a house off to itself, on the smaller side but it was quaint and charming.

“What're we doing?” You asked as he parked.

“You'll see. C'mon.”

You followed behind as he led you to the front door, producing a key and opening it for you.

“Whose house is this?”

“God Bunny, you ask too many damn questions. Get your ass in there.” He nods, leaning on the doorframe as you walk past.

It's a two bedroom, one bath home. Nicely kept. Clean. But you were still confused as to why you were standing here.

“She's yours if you wan’ it.” He finally said, as you whirled back around to face him.

“What're you talking about?” Your brows furrow, confused by the sudden statement.

“Well, I mean, if you wanted to stay here in Lehigh. It's a rental.” He shrugged. “And, no girl of mine is stayin’ in that roach infested dump another day.”

You felt heat creep up your cheeks, but shook your head. “Gator, I can't afford this place.”

“Sure you can sweet thing. It's a steal at $500 a month.” Placing his arm across your shoulders, pulling you into him.

"$500? That's cheaper than the motel.” You squinted up at him, moving from his grasp. “What did you do?”

“Me? I didn’t do anything!” Gesturing to himself. “What makes you think I did somethin’?” He finished the sentence with a not so subtle grin.

"This place is easily worth double that. So, Gator Tillman, I'll ask you again. What did you do?”

"I didn't do anything. Just know someone owes me a favor s'all." You eyed him suspiciously, still wondering if it was a half truth.

"Well, I'm sure I’ll still need the deposit, so it'll be at least another month."

"No Bunny, like I said, someone owes me.”

You mulled it over for a moment, chewing your bottom lip.

“I can't.” You watched his face fall, but you quickly put your arms around his waist, pulling him in. “Not unless you stay here with me.”

He wrapped his arms around you, resting his chin on top of your head.

“So, you stayin’?” He mumbles into your hair.

“For now. Until you piss me off.” You smiled from where your face was pressed into his chest.

No more running, that urge was quelled with him. You finally felt at home.

Home was never a place to you, so it made sense that it ended up being a person.

#gator tillman #🐊#gator tillman fanfiction #gator tillman smut #gator tillman x fem!reader #gator tillman x reader #gator x fem!reader #gator smut #gator tillman fic #gator tillman fargo s5 #gator x reader #joe keery fargo #fargo season 5 #badge bunny series #gator x badge bunny #gator x bunny #gator x you

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renjunniex · 6 months ago

Text

Thank You, For Being You

Isaac Lahey x Fem! Reader Series

Fury

Prompt: the killer now about to be revealed means things are about to get very interesting. how will y/n choose to deal with every problem she is currently facing?

a/n: heyyy guys, hehe.. I’m back. sorry for the long time away, it’s been… chaotic to say the least. I just barely finished the chapter before i posted it so it’s not edited so please excuse any and all mistakes. i plan to go in later and edit when i have a chance, just wanted to get a new chapter out since it’s been so long.

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You never got to have your morning kiss and you were definitely not happy about it. The boys had called you to tell you to get to the police station as fast as you could.

"(Y/N), you need to get here NOW!" The voice of your sarcastic friend made you have to pull your phone away from your ear.

"Jeez, okay, I get it. But I can't leave, I can't find Derek and they're barely keeping themselves under control."

You felt a hand grabbed you wrist and you knew it was Isaac's, "Go, it'll be okay, I can handle everything." You sighed and nodded before confirming you would be at the station as fast as you could.

That's where you were now, the lady at the front desk had let you in. You found Scott, Stiles, and the Sheriff staring at the computer screen. "Okay, what was so important that I just had to be here," your hands were on your hips and they all looked at you.

"The one killing people is Matt," Scott said. You swore you felt your brain explode, "I'm sorry, what?"

"Look he's on the video tapes," Stiles pointed to the computer. "We don't know that it's him Stiles," His dad exclaimed. You walked out to the computer and looked on the screen, you saw a nurse walk up to the boy on camera, "Well, hey, someone talked to him. Maybe you should try to get a statement." They're heads snapped to you and then back at the screen. That's when you got to take a closer look at the nurse that was talking to the supposed Matt.

"Oh, my god," you gasped.

"He's talking to my mom," Scott said horror dripping from his voice.

Scott had called Melissa, under the request of Sheriff.

"Scott, you know how many people I deal with in a day."

"This one's sixteen. He's got dark hair, looks like a normal teenager," Scott expressed. "Yeah, he looks evil," called Stiles.

"Scott, I already talked to the police about this."

Scott got his phone out of his pocket, "Okay, Mom, I'm gonna take a picture and send it to you." He snapped the picture and texted it to Melissa. "Did you get it?"

"Yeah."

"Do you recognize him? Do you remember him?"

"Yeah, I did. I mean, I remember I stopped him because he was tracking mud in the hall. Scott, what's going on?"

"It's nothing, Mom. I'll explain later. I gotta go," Scott stuttered ending the call before bringing his attention back to you guys. Sheriff shuffled through papers until he came across the ones he was looking for, "Alright, we've got shoe prints alongside the tire tracks outside the trailer."

"And if they match, that puts Matt at the scene of the three murders," Stiles exclaimed.

"The trailer, the hospital, and the rave," you listed.

"Actually four," Sheriff corrected, "A credit card receipt for an oil change was signed by Matt at the garage where the mechanic was killed."

"When," asked Stiles.

"A couple hours before you got there."

"Alright, Dad, if one's an incident, two's a coincidence, and three's a pattern, what's four?"

"Four's enough for a warrant," Sheriff motioned to Scott, "Scott, call your mom back, see how quick she can get here. If I can get an official I.D., I can get a search warrant. Stiles, go to the front desk. Tell them to let Scott's mom in when she gets here."

Stiles dashed out the room, "On it!" Scott had started to call Melissa and with all the stress you couldn't help but pace around the room. "She's on her way here," you glanced up at Scott and then looked at Sheriff to see his expression change, "Sheriff, what's wrong-." When you turned in the direction his eyes were directed you saw Stiles come back in, only he wasn't alone. Matt was behind him, with a gun.

You moved slowly to Scott and Stiles while Sheriff began to try and talk to the striped shirt boy, "Matt? It's Matt, right? Matt, whatever's going on, I guarantee you there's a solution that doesn't involve a gun."

The boy waved the firearm around like it was a toy, "You know, it's funny you say that, because I don't think you're aware of just how right you are." You saw Stiles' head raise up slightly and despite the dangerous situation, you couldn't help the scowl that made its way onto your face.

"I know you don't want to hurt people," Sheriff tried to reason but something told you that reasoning wasn't going to get you anywhere, "Actually, I want to hurt a lot of people. You four weren't on my list, but I could be persuaded. And one way is to try dialing somebody on your cell phone, like McCall is doing. That could definitely get someone hurt. Everyone."

Stiles and you both turned your heads to Scott, who had pulled his hand out of his pocket. You took a deep breath as you felt your nerves shoot through the roof, your head was hurting. You knew you were losing control because of the spike in emotions. It must of been your intuition trying to take over.

Gripping your hands into themselves you tried to stay focus on the conversation, "Now!" The loud voice made you jump slightly, "Come on," Sheriff nudged his head you guys and you three threw your phones on the desk.

Matt had made Stiles handcuff Sheriff in the holding cell area, while you and Scott stood just barely off to the side. When he was satisfied with how tight the cuffs were set, he grabbed Stiles and jerked him forward causing Scott and you to follow close behind. You had reached a hallway and there were officers laying all across the floor, blood, from their fatal chest wounds, spattered all over the walls.

A loud gasp of horror spilled from you, your hand coming up to cover your mouth. "What, are you gonna kill everyone in here," Scott asked in horror.

"No, that's what Jackson's for," he answered, "I just think about killing them, and he does it." Matt roughly pushed your shoulder forward as he guided you back to the main office. He made Stiles go on to his dad's computer to delete any and all files having to do with him. Scott and you were given the job of destroying all physical files.

"Deleted. And we're done," Stiles stated pressing the key on the keyboard, "So, Matt, since all the people you brutally murdered deserved it because they killed you first, whatever that means, we're good here, right? I'll just get my dad, and we'll go, you know, you continue on the whole vengeance thing. Enjoy the Kanima."

Lights moved across the windows outside and you felt your breath stop, Melissa was here and there was really nothing you could to protect without risking everyone else. "Sounds like your mom's here, McCall," Matt taunted.

You shook your head while Scott had a destressed expression, "Matt, don't do this," he said, "When she comes to the door, I'll just tell her to leave. I'll tell her we didn't find anything. Please, Matt."

The door opened in the distance as Matt scoffed a laugh, "If you don't move now, I'm gonna kill Stiles first, then (Y/N), and then your mom."

Maybe it was the adrenaline but you couldn't stop yourself from barking back, "You try to put one finger on any of us, and I'll send you through the wall so hard you'll forget who you are." Matt's head cocked to side as if he didn't understand what you meant but even then you could tell he was holding a brave face.

He once again, dragged you three to the front of the Sheriff's office, "Open it," he directed. Scott didn't look towards the door but showed his hesitation, "Please."

"Open the door."

You could practically feel all three of your heartbeats erratic from fear. Scott slowly reached for the doorknob, turning it to reveal not Melissa, but Derek. "Oh, thank God," sighed the werewolf in relief. That relief wore off sooner than it appear as Derek fell to the floor in front of you, he had been paralyzed. Jackson walked into the room standing where the Alpha werewolf once was. His eyes rolled, turning into his usual terrifying slits.

Matt stood over Derek, "This is the one controlling him? This kid," Derek observed in his monotoned voice. "Well, Derek, not everyone's lucky enough to be a big bad werewolf. Oh yeah, that's right. I've learned a few things lately. Werewolves, hunters, Kanimas. It's like a fricking Halloween party every full moon. Except for you two. What do you turn into?"

"None of your business."

"Abominable snowman. But, uh, it's more of, like, a wintertime thing, you know, seasonal."

Matt especially didn't like Stiles' answer, he tipped his head and instantly Jackson's claw swiped the back of Stiles' neck sending him to the floor and onto of Derek. You and Scott made noises of protest only for Jackson to mock you by wagging his finger.

"You bitch."

"Get him off of me," Derek gritted.

Matt laughed at the sight, "Oh, I don't know Derek. I think you two make a pretty good pair. It must kind of suck, though, to have all that power taken away from you with just a little cut to the back of the neck. I bet you're not used to feeling this helpless."

"Still got some teeth," Derek quipped, "Why don't you get down here a little closer, huh? We'll see how helpless I am."

"Yeah, bitch," Stiles muttered out, his voice muffled.

More lights passed by and this time you knew it had to be Melissa. Matt had seen them too, calling out, "Is that her? Do what I tell you to and I won't hurt her. I won't even let Jackson near her."

"Scott don't trust him!"

Matt grabbed Stiles' shirt pulling him over and placing his foot on the boy's neck. "Stop, stop! Leave him alone!" Scott had to get a hold of you to keep you from making any sudden movements. Stiles gasped and gagged for air, his face turning red, "This work better for you?" Matt had gone into a stare down with you two and you were seconds from losing control at this point. "Okay, just stop! Stop," Scott pleaded.

"Then do what I tell you to."

You glared at the boy, the amount of hatred you felt in this moment was unlike any other, "Let. Him. Go." You voice sounded so different and you couldn't tell if it was just your imagination or not. "Okay," Scott urged, "Alright, Stop!" The foot on Stiles' neck was released and the boy desperately gasped for air. Matt nudged his head in a direction as he commanded Jackson, “You, take him in there.”

“You…” Matt’s eyes locked onto Scott once more, “With me.” You had no ability to react as Matt grabbed your arm and twisted it behind your back, preventing you from doing anything as he made you walk in front of him. He guided you both to the front where Melissa came into the police station.

“Mom?”

Melissa sighed at the sound of Scott’s voice and made her way around the corner, “You scared me, where is every…” She stopped speaking when her eyes fell on you both, Scott in front with Matt’s gun pointing at the back of his head and you locked in position guarding Matt’s body. “Mom, just do what he says he promised he wouldn’t hurt you.” Frozen from the shock of the situation you just stood silently your head hanging slightly. “He’s right,” Matt confirmed. Everything felt slow, your ears began to ring and your mind tried its best to process the next few seconds.

You watched as Scott hunched over and Melissa cover her mouth as you assumed she screamed, you didn’t know. Your ears were buzzing like a bomb had gone off right next to you. The smell of gunpowder filled your nose and the sight of smoke covered your vision. Tears seeped from your eyes and dripped down your cheeks. Rationally speaking, Scott was going to be okay, being supernatural had those perks but your brain didn’t seem to register that in the moment. You pulled your arms down trying to release the grip Matt had on you but that only resulted in you having a gun pointed at your head.

“Back, back!”

Matt screamed his voice making the loud bells in your ears ring more, “Mom! Mom, stop, Mom!” Scott covered his wound, the pain making him wince. “Scott,” Melissa said shakily. You felt Matt bang the side of your head harder with the barrel of the gun, “I said get back, unless you want me to blow her head off,” Matt spit venomously. You heard Sheriff called from the holding cells and it caused an explosive reaction from the troubled boy.

“Everyone shut up! Shut the hell up! Now get up or I shoot her next!”

Your eyes closed instinctively, you heard the rustling of Scott’s clothes as he stood slowly. Matt forced Melissa into a cell, she stood at the bars her face covered in her running makeup from her tears. You and Scott stood off to the side, both not moving afraid to cause everyone else to get hurt. You held up Scott as best as you could, your hand also covering his gun wound putting pressure the best you could.

“Please, he needs to see a doctor,” Melissa pleaded.

“You think so?” Matt whispered back.

Sheriff yanked on the handcuff keeping him on the wall, “Hey! Hey, you listen to me!”

Scott interrupted to reassure both his mom and the Sheriff, “It’s alright, I’m okay.” Melissa could handle her son’s words as she shook her head in denial, “No, honey, you’re not okay.” Scott continued on to tell her it didn’t hurt, Melissa again denying her son’s words saying it’s the adrenaline talking, she pleaded once more with Matt to let her stop the bleeding. It only caused Matt to look at you both taunting you, “They have no idea do they?”

“Please. Just let me take a quick look at him!”

“Shut up! Shut up! Lady if you keep talking, I’m gonna put the next bullet through his head.” Melissa finally conceded and Matt order you both to the front.

Your heart raced, sweat dripping down your temple as your mind ran through every possible outcome. So far, not a single solution came to you, at least not one that allowed for most of you to get out of here alive. If only you knew of some kind of spell or chanting that could get you to call for help. Maybe a way to send a message mentally?

Every thought in your brain was cut off as Matt pushed you into Scott, nearly falling on your face had the werewolf not had caught you himself.

“The evidence is gone. Why don’t you just go?” Scott stressed to Matt.

“You think the evidence mattered that much, huh?” Your eyebrows scrunched at Matt’s reply, which only got you a look of annoyance back from him. “No, no, I want the book.”

The bestiary? Why would he need the Argent’s log of every creature?

You soon found out when Scott asked your same thought out loud and Matt lifted his shirt to show his ribs now scaly, reflecting the same sickly greenish gray that the Kanima did. You grimaced at the sight as if just the picture of it made you ill, which it practically did after everything you’ve been through this semester because of it.

You felt a grip on your arm pulling you more into a different room, Scott not far in front of you. You jolted as the cold metal of the gun Matt held to you touch your skin. Scott grimaced, leaning against the desk as he kept his palm on his bullet wound. You tugged at Matt’s grip on your forearm, “Let me try and heal him please,” you pleaded with not an ounce of venom in your words. Nothing but pure fear dripped from your lips, it was truly the first moment in your life that you felt helpless. Nothing, not Peter, not Derek, not even the death of your parents made you feel as useless as slowly watching Scott, who should be able to heal, die.

Matt tugged you away from Scott, twisting your arm as he spoke, “You know, I feel sorry for you, McCall, cause right now you’re thinking, ‘How am I gonna explain this when it heals?’ And the sad part is you don’t even realize how incredible it is that you actually are healing.”

Matt’s eyes were probably as wide as saucers, you hear the frothing that seeped from his mouth as malice flew with his words, “Cause you know what happens to everyone else when they get shot? They DIE.”

You flinched at his tone, trembling as the coldness that came with fear froze every nerve in your body. You couldn’t believe you were even thinking about this but in this moment you wished Isaac was here. Not even because you thought he could protect you from everything but just because you wanted him near you. As much as he continually pissed you off, now that he was working with you guys his presence had become much more comforting.

“Is that what happened to you,” Scott had cut off your panicked thoughts with his question to Matt. “You drowned, didn’t you?”

You watched as Matt took a shaky breath, “He shouldn’t have let them drink,” he muttered. Scott gave him a confused look, “What? Who? Matt, what do you mean?”

Matt’s voice boomed making you flinch once more, “LAHEY! He shouldn’t have let them drink.”

“Who was drinking,” you asked softly. Matt scoffed stepping forward a little, “The swim team you idiots!”

“I didn’t what was happening! I didn’t know that they had just won state, and Lahey, he’s letting his favorites come over to have a couple drinks to celebrate. Who cares if they’re seventeen, right?”

Your eyebrows scrunched up at Matt recounted his story, “Were you at Isaac’s?”

“He had this first edition Spider-Man, or was it Batman? And we were gonna make a trade. But then I’m over there and I hear music. And everyone’s having a good time and I see Sean. He throws Jessica in the pool. And then Bennett goes in and.. and…”

“Bennett, the hunter,” Scott interrupted his monologue. Matt ignored his question, nodding his attention on the floor, his eyes blurry from the light pool of tears he was started to collect.

“And then Camden. Isaac’s jarhead brother, he grabs me. He thinks it’s funny.”

You eyes widened in realization, the fear in your mind clearing when you connected the thoughts, “They threw you in.”

“I yelled that I can’t swim, but nobody listens. I go under and I swallow water,” Matt describes in detail, sweat dripping from his temples, “and no one cares. And I see these bodies underwater. I see Jessica’s got her hands down Sean’s board shorts. Tucker’s grabbing Kara. And I’m drowning. I’m dying, and they’re laughing. All of a sudden, I’m lying by the pool. And Lahey is right there right above me and he says…”

“You tell no one! This, this is your fault! You don’t know how to swim? What little bastard doesn’t know how to swim? You say nothing! You tell no one! NO ONE!”

“And I didn’t. I didn’t tell anyone. And I would see them at school and they wouldn’t even look at me. I’d wake up in the middle of the night, I’d gasp for breath. And my parents,” Matt spit out his story like he could taste the horrible memory, “They thought I was asthmatic. They even gave me an inhaler. They didn’t know that every time I closed my eyes, I was drowning.”

Matt finally turned to you and Scott, as if his trance had been broken, “You know about that little white light that they talk about, you see when you die? Well I didn’t see anything. Just darkness. Everything was dark. But then.. Then came the Argent’s funeral, and everything changed. I was taking some photos and they completely by accident, Lahey gets in one of the photos. I look down at the screen of my camera and I just had this unbelievable rage that fills up inside of me and I just… I look at him and I… I wanna see him dead.”

There was a moment of silence from Matt and that’s when you realized you had a tear trailing down your cheek. Was it for Matt, Mr. Lahey, maybe? Even despite what each of them have done, the raw emotion coming from Matt must have triggered some type of reaction from you.

“And the next day, he actually was. You know, Einstein was right. Imagination is more important than knowledge. It was like something out of Greek mythology.” He began to pace as he ranted some more and you took the chance to step closer to Scott, your hand coming to clench at Scott’s now bloodied shirt. “Like… Like the furies coming down to punish Orestes.”

He gave Scott an unimpressed look upon seeing the dull expression on Scott’s face, “You have no idea what I’m talking about, do you?”

“Was he the guy who stabbed out his eyes?”

Matt’s face turned red as he marched up to Scott and you, waving around the pistol in his hand, “God, that’s Oedipus, you dumbass!” Clenching Scott’s shirt tighter in your hand, you jumped as Matt’s gun waved right in your face. “The furies are deities of vengeance,” you whispered, your voice shaky with horror.

Matt without so much as a beat of pause, continued on “Their tears ran of blood and they had snakes for hair. If a crime that had gone unpunished, the furies would do the punishing.” Matt looked off in the distance where Jackson stood, hovering practically on top of Stiles and Derek. “Jackson is my fury.”

“When I saw him the next night, it was like this bond had been cemented between the two of us. I knew he had killed Lahey for me, and I knew he would do it again. So I went to Tucker’s garage. I even paid for an oil change, and guess what? He didn’t even recognize me. So when he wasn’t looking, I took a shot of him with my camera. And in a few hours, he was dead.”

Matt grew this satisfied smirk on his lips as he glanced at both you and Scott, “So I took more pictures. All I had to do was take their picture and Jackson would take their life.”

As if on cue with the end of Matt’s speech, the lights began to flicker on and off. The alarm system sounding from the malfunctioning of the lights. Matt freaked out from the sudden obstruction, “What’s that? What’s going on?”

He pointed the gone at both of you as Scott tried to assure him that you two didn’t know what was happening. A light scanned across Matt’s face and when you looked out all you saw were burly men with automatics before they began shooting into the window. Without thinking, you grabbed Scott by the back of his shirt and pulled him back out of the line of sight. Glass flung everywhere, scraping against your arms. In your haziness you barely heard the sound of a clank before the fog grenade exploded.

Scott took off with the knowledge that now you two were hidden, his hand in yours as you both ran towards the door, smoke filling your lungs. You saw the glint of Jackson’s half turned figure within the smoke and you took a chance. You flung your arm to the side casting a blast that smacked Jackson into the wall, giving you both enough time to get to Derek and Stiles. Scott went to Stiles and you to Derek only for you to be pushed away from the now almost healed man.

“Take him. Go!” The Alpha werewolf commanded, you scrambled up just behind Scott and Stiles, leaving Derek behind. Jackson recovered finally, walking after you three. You ushered the boys into the hallway of many doors, closing each one behind you to gain even just a spare second away from Jackson. It was short lived considering how rapidly the lizard boy smashed each barrier. You turned once more this time not just closing the door but sending another blast into Jackson’s chest. It sent him back just long enough for you to slam the door closed once more.

Scott set Stiles down somewhere safe, considering that he still couldn’t move, Stiles would only slow you guys down. “Don’t move,” you said dumbly. Stiles gave you a straight and unamused look, Scott sighed, “You know what she means.” Stiles head slinked down when Scott finally let go of him and you two rushed out the door, closing it quietly to hide your location within the station as best as possible.

Scott ran ahead, you only a few feet behind, when you smashed into his back from an abrupt stop. Allison was the reason for the stop, her cross bow pointing directly at Scott’s face. You figured it was from the tense situation, that is until she spoke with such venom.

“Allison,” Scott breathed in surprise.

The dark haired girl disregarded his tone, “Where’s Derek?”

You looked at her with concern, “What are you doing?” Allison did nothing to acknowledge your existence, “If you’re not going to tell me, then get out of my way.” You could feel the sadness start to radiate off the werewolf as he whispered her name once more only to get cut off, “Where is he?” Her words laced with such venom even made you shiver.

“What happened,” Scott asked once again, this time taking a step towards her. She raised her crossbow again, practically pushing it into his chest, “Scott…” Her voice hissed at him, “Scott, you need to stay away from me right now. You need to go. Just stay out of my way.”

Allison pushed passed Scott her shoulder brushing against yours. You tried to reach out to her, calling softly, “All-.”

“Back off.”

It became hard to breathe for a moment as you watched one of your best friends brush you off so coldly, so callously, as if you didn’t even matter to her.

Reality was brought back to you as Scott gripped your forearm gently, leading you through the still foggy police station. You could hear Sheriff yelling as he tried to most likely free himself, with the frighten encouragement of Melissa. Shortly after you hear the terrified shriek of your only mother figure. Scott and you made eye contact before rushing faster through the halls. You found the Kanima hanging along the bars of Melissa’s cell and Derek on the ground. Scott unleashed his claw, piercing the scaly flesh, grabbing ahold of Jackson’s lizard form and threw him on the ground.

Melissa made relief gasps as she saw that you and Scott were okay, “Scott…” She breathed for a second, “Oh, god Scott are you okay,” she cried through her worried tears.

You stood just in front of Scott as the Kanima stood once more, lunging at you. Without a second thought, you felt your eyes flash, your left hand raising to smack the Kanima’s scaly forehead. Your magical glow ringed out in a ripple effect, making the creature stumble from the force of your power. With the extra bit of time, you placed your right hand of his chest and blasted him back. The loud boom from your power echoed in the holding cell room. It gave just enough time for Derek to recover as he snarled, jumping the desk and chasing after the escaping lizard monster.

While your abilities may have saved you and Scott from the scaly claws of paralysis, it did nothing to aid you in the fear in Melissa’s voice. “Scott? Y/N?” She called clearly terrified and exhausted. Your eyes hadn’t stopped glowing from the amped up power you just displayed but it wasn’t like that was the only thing that gave you away. You slowly turned, flinching as Scott rose and you witnessed Melissa’s scared expression. She backed away into the shadows of her cell, as if to try and disappear from the monsters that were her kids.

Monsters.

Huh?

You had never truly felt any different to how you were before until you saw the look on Melissa’s face, the only mother you’ve known since you were just a little kid and she looks at you like you had just crawled out of the depths of hell.

Scott looked at Melissa like a frightened puppy but eventually left, running off to catch up with Jackson and Derek you had assumed. You on the hand stayed frozen staring at the woman with a longing for comfort. You didn’t get it as she continued to shake her head and whisper a cry of, “No!” A tear whisked its way down your face as you stepped closer to the bars, your hands wrapping around the rusted metal. Melissa quickly turned, holding herself as if to hide from you.

“Mom, please,” you whimpered, your eyes cloudy from tears. When you got no response in return, you did the same as your best friend, turned and ran away.

*⁠.⁠✧*⁠.⁠✧*⁠.⁠✧*⁠.⁠✧*⁠.⁠✧*⁠.⁠✧*⁠.⁠✧*⁠.⁠✧*⁠.⁠✧*⁠.⁠✧*⁠.⁠✧*⁠.⁠✧*⁠.⁠✧*⁠.⁠✧

a/n: …um was that good for a sad ending? idk lol i guess let me know. Hope you guys enjoyed!

taglist: @somiaw @vvicaddiction @mushroomelephant @breadbrobin @traumverloren-anderswelt @fandom-princess-forevermore @vanessa-boo @mxltifxnd0m @thepopcultureaddict @rachlovesactors

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veronicaleighauthor · 3 months ago

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Here we go again! Made an official start on the second Lady Sheriff novel, "Fire By Night!" This should keep me busy for three or four months. Lord help me!

#lady sheriff series #lady sheriff novel #fire by night #historical fiction #mystery fiction #crime fiction #writing #writing is hard #writing community #publishing #level best books

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javierpena-inatacvest · 1 year ago

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Chapter 2: What's Cookin' Good Lookin'?

Summary: After you meet Javier Peña giving a presentation at your elementary school, you get ready to meet him at your co-worker's backyard cookout. You just hope that he remembers you.

Warnings: Mentions of Javi's past with the DEA, mentions of grief/death, mentions of food and alcohol, mentions of blood and needing first aid (nothing major), Javi taking care of you, allusions to sexual tension, you being a sarcastic asshole and Javi being too smitten to care

Word Count: 8.5K

A/N: Shout out to Chucho Peña for being the G.O.AT. And Javi putting his DEA first aid skills to the test. Thank you for the likes and reposts! These two are fun to write.

Series Masterlist Next Chapter Previous Chapter

Javi couldn’t think of the last time that he had turned on the radio in his truck. It had practically gone untouched since he had returned home to Laredo. But today, on his way back to the Sheriff's Department, he had put music on full volume the whole drive. His brain overflowed with images of you. Your smile, your laugh, God, the way you looked in that damn dress. The sweet smell of you still lingered in his mind as you had gotten only inches away from his lips. “See you on Saturday.” If he had known that today’s trip would have ended like this, he would have become the damn D.A.R.E representative of the office. He was so consumed with thoughts of you, that it wasn’t until he had passed City Hall that he realized he had driven by the Sheriff's Department 15 minutes ago.

“How’d it go, Peña?” Javier could barely take 3 steps into his office before Carter was already at his door. “You sure look happy.”

“Hey, look who made it out alive!” A 2nd voice chimed in from outside the office door, Carter’s partner, Detective Miller.

“Told ya it wouldn’t be that bad! Was the hot one there that I told you about? Jesus, I’d go back to do that stupid ass presentation again just to see her.”

“God I hope she was, she must have been out sick the day I went because all I got were 3 middle aged ladies and disappointment.” Carter and Miller laughed to each other.

“Definitely would have paid way more attention if she was my fuckin’ teacher, god damn, she is a hot piece of a-”

Javier was no stranger to his co-workers checking out women on the job, hell, he was guilty of it too. But there was something about the conversation that made his stomach churn with jealousy.

“She’s got a fucking name, alright? Don’t talk about her like that.” Javier snapped, leaving the two men standing in his doorway stunned. Given his reputation, Carter and Miller thought Javier would be quick to join in on the banter.

“Jesus, sorry man. Just trying to have some fun.” The two backed out of his office, not expecting such a reaction from him. Carter was just about to open his mouth, hoping to gain some intel from Javier’s trip, but before he could, Miller gave him a silent shake “no”, gesturing to get the hell out before Carter did something else stupid to piss their boss off.

Despite his interaction with Carter and Miller, Javi spent the rest of the day in a surprisingly good mood.

Fuck, did he feel… happy?

It obviously wasn’t a look that Javier wore often, considering that as he left the office for the day and gave a smile, accompanied by “Have a good night!” to the office secretary, she looked up at him with legitimate concern and asked if he was okay.

Dust swept around his truck as Javi pulled down the dirt driveway to the front of the Peña ranch. The quaint house was nestled amongst acres of farmland, sat in front of a well loved barn where the horses were kept. The porch was lined with a colorful arrangement of flowers and figurines, all lovingly placed by Lucia, and even more lovingly tended to by her husband, Chucho, who swore his best to keep her garden alive after she no longer could.

The front door let out a faint squeak as Javier made his way through, taking off his shoes and setting down his things before making his way over to the fridge. Reaching at the handle to grab a beer and something to eat, he saw the bright yellow sticky note placed at eye level as he bent down.

Javi,

It’s Wednesday. I’m with Las Vengüenzas (The Embarrassments) for cards. Will be back around 9. There’s leftovers in the fridge. Símon is being an ass today. Watch out.

Love, Pops

Chucho Peña was notorious for leaving notes everywhere around the house. Javi was pretty sure if he didn’t make a bi-weekly trip around the ranch, the entire thing would be covered in yellow post-it notes.

After inhaling half of a leftover sandwich, and finishing off his beer, Javi slipped on his boots and made his way out to the barn to round up and feed the horses for the night. Before accepting his new position at the Sheriff's department several months ago, Javi spent the beginning of his time home from the DEA working with his father on the ranch. When he came home from Colombia, he didn’t really have a plan. Just that he couldn’t take working for the DEA any longer. Even after he had leaked the dark, unsettling truth of what had happened with the Cali Cartel and made a point to politely tell the DEA to fuck off, Javi would still receive the occasional call asking him if he would consider coming back to help fight the drug war raging across the border in Mexico. The request to fuck off got less and less polite with each call.

Still, Javi felt unsettled resigning himself to a life of ranching forever. His body had proved to him that he definitely was not as young as he once was, and he couldn’t help but miss the fact that what he was doing held some sort of significance to make things better.

When Dean Morris approached Chucho about the new training position opening up for the department, he told the elder Peña that the office was willing to do just about anything to have Javi be a part of their team. No field work, normal office hours, pay raise, and good benefits. Just providing his expertise and knowledge to new recruits and staff about strategies to stop trafficking across the border. Javier had considered the option of telling him to fuck right off too, but the more he thought about it, the more he felt like an idiot to pass something like this up. He felt guilty leaving his position at the ranch with his dad, but his father assured him “If I could do it all these years while you were gone, I’d sure as hell look like a fool if I couldn’t keep doing it now. Don’t think you’re still getting out of helping while you’re around, though. You can promise your old man you won’t leave me too high and dry. ”

So here Javi was, making good on his promise. As he opened the gate to the barn, 2 of the horses trotted up to him immediately, knowing that it must be close to dinner time. 3 more slowly followed, leaving one left for Javi to corral.

Where the hell was he?

“Son of a bitch.” Javier muttered to himself, noticing that the last horse he was looking for was all the way across the field, perfectly content where he was standing. Chucho was right, Símon was going to be a pain in the ass today.

“Símon! Get your ass over here! I’m not going all the way out to get you!”

Nothing.

“Fine, starve to death, see if I care.” Javi had a sweet spot for animals, but Símon’s unruly antics tended to make the horse an exception to the rule.

Javi turned his back and made his way to the other 5 horses choosing to give him much less of a hard time. Javi filled the troughs with food, leaving the horses happily munching on their dinner. As he got one last scoop from the bucket to place into the trough, a soft muzzle bumped its way under the scoop, causing the food to fly everywhere. Símon let out a loud whinney, mocking Javier for letting out a startled yell and dropping the remainder of the food all over the floor of the barn. “Stupid ass horse…” Javi grumbled.

As Javi ventured his way back to the house, several more lights had been turned on inside the house, signaling that his dad must be back from his weekly cards night.

Kicking his boots off on the back step, Javi greeted his father. “Hey Pops. You were right about Símon. Pendejo scared the shit out of me and knocked a whole scoop of food out of my hand.”

“Well from what I gather, it seems like that’s a small tarnish on what otherwise seems to be a pretty good day.” Javi could hear the delight in Chucho’s voice from around the corner. He had forgotten that both Maria and Estelle’s husbands were a part of Chucho’s card club, and were probably both delighted to gossip to their husbands about their eventful day at school.

Javi joined his father in the kitchen, pulling out a chair from the dining room table and plopping himself in it. “Word travels fast, I guess.”

“Not fast enough for Maria, apparently. She called me as soon as she got home from school to tell me about today. She was delighted to see you, and even more delighted to tell me that apparently you’re now joining me for the cookout that you very adamantly told me you weren’t going to.” Chucho raised his eyebrows and smirked. “I heard she’s a sweet girl.”

Javi rubbed his hand across the width of his face, trying to hide his embarrassment. “Pops, listen, it’s not that big of a deal, I just met her today. She seemed nice.”

“Must be a little more than just nice if you’re willing to go through the ringer your mother’s friends are about to put you through on Saturday.” Chucho now delighted in the fact he could tell Javier was becoming increasingly more sheepish as the conversation continued. “Ah, the things we do for love…”

“Dad, listen I-”

“I know, I know, you just met her. But let me tell you hijo, I knew from the moment that I laid eyes on your mother, she was the woman I wanted to spend the rest of my life with. The fact that you’re volunteering yourself to talk with your friends and family you’ve been avoiding since you’ve been home just for another chance to see her? She must be something special.” Chucho sighed, and made his way past Javi, extending his arm out to pat him on the shoulder as he passed by. “I just want you to be happy, hijo. Sounds like today was a good start. Well, this old man is off to bed, I may not be beautiful, but I sure need my sleep. Good night, Javi.”

“Night, Pops.”

Chucho retreated to this bedroom, leaving Javi alone in the kitchen. Javi stared at the pictures hanging on the wall across from the table. His gaze traveled across the wall noting the variety of framed photos. Him as a toddler in nothing but a cowboy hat and diaper, his mother and father standing next to him holding his diploma from his high school graduation, and Chucho and Lucia slow dancing together at their 25th wedding anniversary party. Javi smiled at the joy and happiness radiating off their faces in the photo.

Today was a good start.

You were convinced that time could not have moved any slower than it did between Wednesday and Friday. Exhausted from the end of the school year excitement, you were sure that even a constant IV coffee drip was going to be enough to keep you alive for the next few days. The only thing keeping you going was Saturday. Specifically, Javier Peña.

Your week became a little more bearable in the moments in the staff lounge you got in between inhaling your lunch, listening to your co-workers drabble bits of information about Javier and the Peña family. You tried to absorb as much of it as you can, without trying to sound too over-eager or ask too many questions. On Wednesday, after your encounter, you asked at lunch how the ladies knew Javi. From there, you had learned that his late mother used to work with the rest of the 3rd grade team before passing about a decade ago (And had been inseparable up until then), he had started his new job at the Sheriff's department a few months ago after returning back to Texas (but you couldn’t figure out where or why he was gone), and they were definitely not a fan of some woman named Lorranie (you weren’t sure why on that either, but the look on their faces told you Lorranie was bad news). If there was one thing your co-workers loved to do, it was talk. While you were happy it provided you with some intel about Javi, the thought of what these ladies had been saying about you behind your back was also petrifying.

Some way or another, you finally managed to make it to Friday at 4:00 PM, students now all gone from your classroom and headed home for the weekend. With the few ounces of energy you had left, you began to gather your things from your desk to pack up and head out with the promise of Saturday finally on the horizon.

As you were turning off your lights and closing the door behind you, the 3 Amigas of 3rd grade came strolling up behind you.

“So, mija, are you excited for tomorrow?” Maria said, giving you a playful nudge in the arm as you joined the group of ladies walking down the hallway towards the parking lot. You could already feel your cheeks turning pink with embarrassment. Of course you were excited for tomorrow. The thought of seeing the tall, broad and handsome man that was Javier Peña was the only thing you through this week. His deep brown eyes, the way his shoulders stretched the back of his navy blue suit, his hands? You had only known this man for less than a week, yet the image of him flooded your brain every day since you met. Not to mention the fact you hadn’t been on a first date (or anything even close to that) since you met Paul almost 3 and a half years ago. It was only now that you felt the nerves swirling around in your stomach, realizing tomorrow you were actually going to see him again.

“Yeah, I’m really excited! I’ve been looking forward to it all week. I’m uh, actually kind of nervous though.” Your voice began to trail off as the women looked at you with a smirking suspicion. You quickly elaborated, trying not to make it too obvious the reason why you were worked up was because of the one person you were most looking forward to seeing.

“You know, because this is my first big party I’ve been to since moving here, and I don’t know a lot of people, and want to make a good impression and-”

“You’ll know us” Linda cut you off with a smile.

“You’ll know someone else there besides us old broads, too.” Estelle winked.

“Mija, there is nothing for you to worry about. Just be yourself, and I’m sure that everyone there will love you. Anyways, we’ve already put in a good word for you, so I wouldn’t be too nervous. ”

“Maria, leave the poor girl be! She’s a tough cookie, she can fend for herself!” Linda retorted. She could tell from the look on your face that this conversation was turning out to make you more anxious than expected. “It’ll be a fun time, mija. Drive home safe and we will see you tomorrow.”

The 4 of you waved and said goodbye as you parted ways to your cars scattered across the parking lot. As you sat down in the driver’s seat, you couldn’t tell if you were covered in sweat from the hot, Texas sun beating through the windows of your car, or because the idea of tomorrow had you a hot mess.

Your apartment was finally starting to feel like home. Pictures of your family hung on the walls, furniture finally delivered, contents of moving boxes unpacked and put away. You were a little too Type A for your own good, and while for the most part, your boxes had been sorted and organized you still didn’t feel settled until everything felt like it had a place. The last thing left to put away was a box marked “CHICAGO” that had sat in the corner of your living room, long after its counterparts had been sorted to their rightful home. You had told yourself that you needed to finally face unpacking this box before the school year came to an end, and with your countdown at 4 days, time was starting to run out.

After you had finished putting away the contents of your school bag, you changed out your work clothes, tossing them in your hamper and rummaging through your dresser to pull out a pair of black biker shorts and an oversized Chicago Cubs shirt, its logo faded and fraying from all of its wear. On your way back to the living room, you passed through the kitchen to grab a beer from the fridge. If given a choice, it was always Miller Lite. Growing up with 3 older brothers, it was the beer they would sneak you sips of when your parents weren’t looking. It was the beer you drank in college, knowing that a night drinking most liquors would send you to an early grave the next morning. It was what you drank almost every night for months after finding out you had wasted years of your life with Paul, who couldn’t be bothered to give an apology for what he had done to hurt you. If there was one thing you were, it was a little too stubborn for your own good, and you and Miller Lite had a history you weren’t willing to part ways with now.

That lead you back to public enemy #1- The “CHICAGO” box. You saw crossed legged on the floor as you rested your hand on your face, the other bringing the beer to your mouth for some liquid courage. The thing that frustrated you the most about this stupid box was that you knew exactly what was inside it. You could probably name where the contents were positioned inside the box. But every time you came close to ripping the packing tape off, you found yourself frozen in fear. If you opened that box, you would be admitting to the fact that when you were faced with the toughest moments in your life, you chose to run. Run half way across the country without looking back. And that- that made you feel a sense of cowardice that hung heavy on your conscience. You’d like to think that you were strong, determined, willing to stand up for yourself. But when it mattered most, you were none of those things. You were far from it.

So here you were again. You and that damn box. After this week, you didn’t have it in you to intensify the staring contest you had started with an inanimate object, and the prospect of tomorrow was enough to ruin your mood over a stupid container full of things. Exhausted, you sat yourself down on the couch, curled up in a blanket and turned on the TV to watch the next NHL Playoff game.

There were a lot of things you loved about Texas, but their lack of enthusiasm for hockey was a bit disappointing. When people asked you some of things you missed most about the midwest, a hockey fix was at the top of your list. Growing up with 3 older brothers who all played, you were convinced you came out of the womb with skates on. You were also convinced the need to keep up with your brothers is what fueled the fire for your overly competitive nature. The only downside to your love for hockey was when it came to dating. Being around your brother’s teammates, you constantly heard “how hot it was” or that it was “so sexy” when girls knew about hockey, or sports in general. In reality, whenever you brought up your interest on dates, it backfired. It turned into “Well you only know about it because of your brothers” or “It’s weird that you play hockey, that’s too manly.” One man once made the mistake of taking you on a first date to a skating rink thinking it would be cute to teach you how to skate, until you lapped him several times as he wobbled like a baby deer, and made him storm off in anger because a girl was better at skating than him. His loss.

Taking another sip of your beer, you could feel your eyelids growing heavy as you leaned your head further and further into your couch pillow. Despite trying your best to stay awake, exhaustion and comfort swept over your body, as you were lulled to sleep by the sweet sounds of cheering and bullhorns coming from the TV.

It wasn’t until you were greeted by a sharp, stiff pain in your back that you realized you had fallen asleep, curled up on your couch, not even making it into bed last night. You grunted and rolled over to look at the clock hanging above your kitchen counter

10:13 AM

Shit. You were definitely not planning on sleeping in this late. The cookout wasn’t until 2:00, and all you had on your to-do list was to shower and get ready, but the last thing you wanted was for anything to make you late for something you had been looking forward to for the past 3 days.

After taking what you so lovingly deemed the “3 hour shower” (washing and conditioning your hair, shaving, and scrubbing down every inch of your body), you stood wrapped in your towel, staring at your open closet. You swiped through several pieces, throwing them down on the bed, bracing yourself for the personal fashion show that was about to ensue.

Almost an hour later, and half your closet now scattered about on the floor, you were convinced that if you had woken up at 7:00 AM you still would be crunched for time trying to pick out an outfit. What the hell does someone wear to a casual cookout full of a bunch of people they don’t know, and one really hot one that they want to get to know better?

After a few more combinations, you ruled out shirts and shorts, worrying that you were going to look too informal amongst a group of strangers. You dug back through your pile of dresses, trying a few back on hoping to find a solution. At 12:30, you landed on a baby blue sundress covered in small, white and pink flowers. Considering it was going to be 89 degrees today, you figured the spaghetti straps and knee length cut would be acceptable. It made you feel confident, and even a little sexy. After almost an hour of trying to toe the line between cute and casual, you threw on the dress and give yourself a quick run down in the mirror. Not half bad. You spent the last bit of time in the bathroom finishing your hair and a little bit of makeup, a routine you had down to a science, followed by swearing at yourself under your breath as you shoved the explosion of clothes on your floor back into your closet.

As you gathered your things, you took one final deep breath for reassurance as you headed out the door and down the steps to the front of your apartment building. You had been to Maria’s house before for her Cinco de Mayo party, recalling directions and that it wasn’t too far of a walk from your house. The whole way there, your hands were balled in fists squeezing your fingers, fueled exclusively by your increasing anxiety as you got closer and closer to Maria’s house. Knowing the social butterfly Maria is, you shouldn’t have been shocked by the massive number of cars lining the street leading up to her residence. As you walked up to the back gate of the house, you took several deep breaths before mustering the courage to make the trek down to the party. With each step across the hot cement of the sidewalk, your brain swirled with questions

“Is he already there? Is he actually excited about seeing me too, or do the ladies at work just feel bad for me and they’re trying to make me feel better? God, does he even remember that I’m coming or who I am? Fuck, was this dress even a good choice? What if I’m way too dressed up and he thinks I look like an idiot? Jesus, I hope they have alcohol at this thing.

Your heart raced as you approached the gate to her backyard, with a sign in bright, colorful letters that read “Fiesta this way!”. As you pushed open the gate, you were greeted with the thick scent of meats cooking on the grill, followed by upbeat Latin music and chatter amongst the guests. When you looked around, you were greeted by a sea of unfamiliar faces. You began to walk further into the crowd when a tight embraced wrapped around you from behind.

“MIJA! I’m so glad you came!” Maria’s familiarity gave you a slight sense of relief. “Listen, I have to go help with the food, but there are lots of drinks in the cooler so help yourself, food should be up in about half an hour! Not everyone is here yet, but if anyone comes looking for you, I’ll be sure to send them your way.” Before you could make any attempt at a comeback, Maria winked at you and escorted herself back to the porch to continue setting up dinner.

Taking another sweep around the backyard, you made your way over to the drink coolers sitting on the side of the house, when you felt a tug at the bottom of your dress. Surprised, you turned around to see a small freckly face staring back up at you.

“Extoose me. My big bwother says dat your his teacher and dat sometimes you pway with dem at weecess and dat dey weeelllllyyy want to pway baseball but none of da other gwownups will pway and dey need someone to pitch. Will you pweeeeseeee pway wif us?”

Looking up, you noticed a small group of kids gathered in a cluster now smiling and waving at you.

“Hi, Alex. Hi, Sophia.” You waved back at two of the kids you knew from your class. “You know it’s okay to come ask me to play, you don’t have to send your little brother.”

Alex looked at you with a sincerely confused look on his face. “I didn’t know if we were allowed to talk to our teacher if they’re not at school.”

Sophia slapped him with the wiffle ball bat. “Of course you are, stupid. Teachers don’t live at school. They do real people stuff too.”

“If I’m so stupid, why didn’t you ask her, Ms. Know-it-all?”

As the two continued to argue, you took another look around at the party. With the familiar face count only at 3 (being Maria, and Estelle and Linda who you had waved to from afar), you realized that your choices were to either go converse with people you’ve never met, stand alone awkwardly, or go play baseball. The choice seemed easy enough.

“It’s okay you guys, I’ll play with you. Only for a little bit though, okay?”

The kids cheered as they placed a bag full of wiffle balls in your hands, glad to have an adult that would be able to throw a semi-hittable pitch. The kids took turns lining up to bat, as you threw towards them. Giving a little extra encouragement to the ones who needed it, you high-fived each kid as you let them have a “homerun” by running as fast as they could around the backyard. Noticing your collection of wiffle balls had dwindled down to zero, you sent the group of kids to scatter around the backyard to collect as many as they could. As you bent down and reached your hand out to pick up one of the balls close to you, a much larger hand set itself on top of yours.

“It’s been a while since I’ve played, but I don’t think the pitchers are supposed to go out in the field to collect all the balls.”

Shifting your gaze upwards from the grass, your eyes traveled up the length of the figure standing before you. Tight, dark washed jeans, followed by a white, short sleeved button up, that exposed the tanned skin of his chest. Next, a strong jaw and mustache, and deep, chocolate brown eyes that had lived vividly in your memory since first seeing them a few days ago.

“If I didn’t know any better, I would have figured that you’re a teacher by day, MLB pitcher by night.”

You shrugged your shoulders and mischievously rolled your eyes. “Damn, you caught me. My secret is ruined!”

Javi shifted the hand that was on top of yours under your palm, engulfing your hand in a gentle grasp, pulling you up to a standing position.

“Thanks.” you blushed as you brushed your hands down your sides to flatten your dress. You watched as Javi’s eyes darted looking you up and down, his tongue darting out to lick across his bottom lip.

“Can I uh, get you something to drink?” Javi asked. Noticing that his hand was still holding yours, he shifted his weight and tried to casually place his hands on his hips.

“Yeah, a beer would be great. Unfortunately, I don’t think they allow players to drink on the field, but it looks like they called someone in from the bullpen to take my place so I should be in the clear.” You both laughed, looking over to see that none of the kids had seemed to care that you had gone missing, and someone else had gladly taken your place as pitcher.

“I’ll be right back.” As you sat down at the edge of an empty picnic table on the patio, you couldn't help but gawk as Javier’s back turned to yours, revealing just how tight his jeans were and how broadly his shoulders stretched. His trip to get both of you drinks was prolonged by several people coming up to him, either shaking his hand or patting him on the back. You were curious why so many people had such an interest in Javi, and why he didn’t look thrilled about it.

After a few minutes, Javi made his way back to you, two beers in hand. “Well, you sure seem like a popular guy, Mr. Peña.” He slid your drink across the table to you, letting out a small scoff at your comment.

“Sorry, it’s been a while since I’ve been home.” He looked around as if he was checking to see that no one else was coming up to bother him.

“It’s okay, you don’t need to apologize. Do you mind me asking where you were?” You took a sip of your drink, and traced your thumb along the condensation of the bottle.

Javi shifted in his seat and continued to look around. “I was uh, I was in Colombia working for the DEA.” It was his turn to take a much longer drink than the one that you just took.

“Oh shit, like the Drug Enforcement Administration DEA?”

“Last time I checked, that was the only DEA I knew of.” He looked down at his beer and let out an uncomfortable laugh. You had seen plenty about the happenings in Colombia on the news the past several years. Needless to say, none of it was “feel-good” content. Working for the DEA was one thing, but if he was down in Colombia? He would have really been in the thick of it. Putting two and two together, it now made sense why his trip to get you both drinks had taken so long.

“Well, um, it does sound like a really interesting job. If you ever want to talk about it, I would love to listen. But I totally get the whole feeling uncomfortable when everyone thinks you’re a hero and wants you to tell them everything when all you want is to not talk about it at all.” You reached out to place your hand on top of his and give him a reassuring smile. He looked back at you with crinkled brows and genuine confusion. You could almost feel his demeanor shift, like you were the first person who had ever considered trying to understand how he felt about the situation he was in. “My dad was a firefighter, I had 2 brothers who were in the military and another brother who’s an EMT. Obviously it’s not fair to compare anyone’s jobs, but they always hated how everyone else felt entitled to their heroism when a lot of the time, they felt far from it.”

He swallowed and clenched his jaw as his puppy dog brown brown eyes locked with yours. No one had ever even bothered to consider the fact that Javi had no interest in talking about his past. That the last thing he felt like was a hero, that he regretted the things he had done. Yet here you were, holding his hand, reassuring him he didn’t owe you anything. He opened his mouth to speak.

“It’s okay, really.” You reassured him once more. “The one thing I do want to know…” Your voice trailed as you took another sip of your beer, Javi’s face once again shifting to concern “is how much Maria has told you about me, and how much damage control I need to be doing.” Breaking the silence, you and Javi both laughed to yourselves. You watched as the tension seemed to dissipate from Javi’s body.

“I could say the same thing. If it makes you feel any better, the only thing I know about you is that you just moved here not that long ago from Chicago, and that Maria was very insistent that I would be an idiot if I tried to do anything to mess up my chances with a gorgeous girl like you.”

“Well the first part is true. I moved here at the end of December, so that’s what? 4 months now? And yeah, I’ve lived in or just outside of Chicago my whole life, so it’s definitely taken some adjusting. The 2nd half seems like a bit of an exaggeration.” You had never been good at taking compliments, but you could feel your cheeks flush.

“Damn, Chicago to Middle-of-Nowhere-Texas? That’s a big move. The 2nd part is definitely not an exaggeration in the slightest. You look…” His eyes shifted over you once more, biting down on his lower lip. “You look beautiful in that dress.”

“PEÑAAAAAAA! How have you been?! Mierda, it’s been too long, amigo!” A clearly drunk party goer was standing next to you and raised up a hand holding his beer, extending it towards Javi. As he continued to stumble toward Javi, he lost his balance, and the glass beer bottle he was holding slipped from his hands, shattering on the cement patio. Glass shards and beer foam went flying on contact, and your shin was in the way of the cross fire.

“Jesus, that hurts, shit!” Looking down at your leg, you watched as blood dripped from the point where a piece of glass lodged its way into your skin. Javi looked like he was about to murder whatever drunken idiot had stumbled his way over to him, but before he could, he had already rushed around to the side of the table you were sitting at. You tried to get up to get a better look at the damage, but Javi firmly grasped your hips and ran his hands down the sides of your thighs to sit you back in your seat. Well, being insanely turned by a man trying to help you get a piece of beer bottle out of your shin was a new first.

“Don’t move. I don’t want the glass to shift around anymore and make the cut worse.” His hands still hadn’t left your thighs.

“Javi, I’m fine. I can walk.” You began to stubbornly protest. You tried to hide the grimace on your face from the pain you felt as you began to stand up again. “Seriously, it’s fine, I’ll go find some first aid stuff and- OH, okay?!”

Before you could finish your sentence, Javi had scooped you up like it was nothing and was carrying you bridal style towards the house. Your head rested against his chest, coming face to face with unbuttoned flaps of his shirt. His scent overwhelmed you, somehow smelling even better than when you bumped into him just a few days ago. The thumb of the hand that was holding you beneath your legs traced back and forth across your knee.

“This seems a little unnecessary, don’t ya think?” Trying to hold it together, you looked up at Javi.

“You’re not gonna make this easy on me, are you?” He looked down at you and shook his head with a slight grin on his face.

“Where’s the fun in that?”

Javi made his way through the crowded patio to the sliding glass door that led into the house.

“DIOS MIO, WHAT HAPPENED?!” Maria shrieked, her face darting between you, Javi, and the blood running down your leg.

“I don’t know what to tell you Maria, the baseball game back there got pretty heated. Those kids are ruthless.” Your sarcasm clearly did not go over well, as Maria’s expression was now flooded with confusion and panic.

Javi rolled his eyes. “Tell Don he needs to get his drunk-ass together. He dropped a bottle and it shattered, some of the pieces flew into her leg. I’m guessing the first aid kit is still in the upstairs closet by the bathroom?”

“Yes, mijo, but-”

“No, Maria, she doesn’t need to go to the hospital, I’ll take care of her.” Boy, have you never been so excited about being injured.

“I don’t know, Maria, I think I’m dying!” You flopped one of your free hands up to your forehead, doing your best to look like a tragic Renaissance painting.

You could tell Javi was trying his best not to laugh, knowing that Maria was already halfway to dialing 911. “She’ll be fine, I promise.”

Javi used his hip to slide open the door, leading you through the kitchen and up the staircase. All jokes aside and adrenaline subsiding, you were now beginning to realize how much pain you were in as your legs jostled while Javi carried you up the stairs. You scrunched your face and bit down on your lip to try and ignore the pain, but it wasn’t doing much. Javi looked down at you, noticing your face.

“Hermosa, are you okay? We’re almost upstairs, I’m sorry about that pendejo.”

“Yup, I’ve never been better. I feel great, actually. LOVE having this piece of glass stuck in my leg!” You noticed your sarcasm meter was probably getting a little too high for the situation. “No it’s okay, thank you. You didn’t have to do this.”

“Well, I wasn’t gonna let you bleed out on the patio.” As you crossed the threshold of the upstairs bathroom, Javi shifted you in his arms and sat you down on the top of the bathroom counter. He gave the top of your knees a gentle squeeze. “I’ll be right back, don’t move.” He made his way out of the bathroom, hearing him rummage around through the closet in the hallway.

“Do I really have a choice?” You heard him chuckle from outside the door. He came back holding a first aid box and a few towels and squatted down in front of your leg dangling off of the countertop.

“You help women take glass shards out of their legs at barbeques often?” You gestured down at the first aid kit, noting how fast he had found it.

“Surprisingly, you are the first.” Opening up the kit, he pulled out a few supplies. “I spent a lot of time playing here as a kid, and definitely went through my fair share of band-aids.” Carefully, he placed one of his hands around the back of your leg, pulling it closer towards him. You were surprised that with hands as big as his, he was incredibly gentle.

Trying to downplay your pain, you looked down at him and asked, “What’s the prognosis, Dr. Peña? Do I get to keep my leg, or are you destined to carry me everywhere for the rest of your life?”

“As much as I would love to, I think you’re gonna make it out okay.” He plucked a pair of tweezers out of the kit and looked up at you with remorse. “I’m gonna pull it out, but it’s probably gonna hurt. Is that okay?” He rested his free hand on top of your thigh. “You can squeeze my hand if you need to.”

Without hesitation, you released the hand that was gripping the edge of the counter so hard, your knuckles were turning white. You slowly interlaced his fingers with his, his thumb stroking back and forth over the side of your hand.

“Okay, whenever you’re ready.” You said, beginning to squeeze his hand tighter.

“Okay. 3…2…”

“FUCK! Agh, so much for 1?! Holy shit, that hurt!” You were trying everything in your power to hold back the tears welling in your eyes, trying to be as tough as possible.

“I could say the same for my hand. Jesus, you’ve got a death grip, hermosa. I’m surprised my fingers aren’t broken.” You released his hand as he laughed and shook it out, now using both to rummage through the first aid kit again. Pulling out some gauze and tape, he carefully wrapped up the cut and tied up the bandage to hold it in place. He was so attentive making sure that you were properly bandaged up, that it wasn’t until he heard your small sniffle that he looked back up at you, noticing a small tear streaming down your face.

Generally, you prided yourself on being pretty damn tough. Growing up with brothers, you learned to play rough and deal with the consequences. More importantly, you hated crying in front of other people. Trying to quickly regain your composure, you tried to subtly wipe the tears off your cheeks, hoping Javi wouldn’t notice. Slowly, he rose up, placing one hand on the counter just outside your hips, the other coming up to your cheek, using his thumb to brush away the wetness under your eyes.

“I promise I’m not a baby, this shit just really hurt.” You said, trying to defend yourself. His hand cupped the side of your face.

“Cariño, you don’t need to apologize.” He leaned his body in closer to yours, your faces now only inches away. “You’ve been un soldado, if anything.”

“A what?” You were surprised your brain even had the capacity for questioning at this point.

“A trooper” Javi leaned in closer, planting a soft kiss on your cheek. “So much so, you’re making it hard for me to try and take care of you, considering how damn stubborn you are.” His words whispered down the side of your neck, followed by another kiss. You could feel your heart racing, your breath becoming heavier with each word. Slowly, his body shifted down between the opening of your legs, his hands wrapping around your injured calf, placing a gentle kiss on the top of your bandage.

Your mouth hung half open, praying that your brain would concoct a half coherent sentence. Your hand traveled down to brush the top of Javi’s soft, curled hair, forcing his gaze to shift back up to you. “Last time I checked, I don’t think doctors are supposed to kiss their patients”

He stood back up, both hands now cupping your face as he leaned in and whispered, “well it’s a good thing I’m not really a doctor, am I?” Your mouths met with a magnetic attraction. His hand had now slipped behind your head, raking his fingers through your hair as he pulled you in closer. Your hands that had been grasping the edge of the counter as a form of self control now freed themselves, grasping around Javi’s biceps, reciprocating the closeness you craved. Your body lit up with an electricity that no kiss had ever made you feel before. His hands began traveling down your body, his intensity causing you to let out a small, breathy moan. Your legs slowly wrapped around the small of his back, pulling him tighter. You could feel the heat pooling between your legs as his hands grasped the meat of your thighs as they slowly slid their way under the hem of your dress.

“JAVI?! MIJA?! IS EVERYTHING OKAY?? DO I NEED TO CAL 911?? THERE BETTER NOT BE BLOOD ON MY BATHMAT, I JUST WASHED IT.”

Both out of breath, your mouths parted as Maria’s shrill voice carried up the stairs. You had blacked out for the last few minutes, forgetting you were sitting on top of your co-worker’s bathroom counter, door wide open. Javi rested his head in the crook of your shoulder as he whispered “God dammit, Maria…” under his breath.

“Impeccable timing on her part, to be fair.”

“IF YOU DON’T RESPOND I’M COMING UP THERE AND CALLING THE AMBULANCE!”

“All good, Maria!” You shouted down, Javi’s face still resting by your neck. “Dr. Peña told me it was a close one, but I’m gonna make it out alive.” You both giggled. “We’ll be down in a second!”

“Are you gonna clear me to walk, or am I getting carried again?” You said, giving him a playful nudge.

He gave you a quick kiss. “Just take it easy okay?” Grabbing your wait, he lifted you up and helped you off the counter. He gestured his arm towards the doorway. “After you.”

After you had hobbled your way down the stairs, you and Javi found empty patio chairs along the fence of the yard. After you had sat down semi-comfortably, Javi started making his way back toward the house. “Drink?” He said, looking back at you and continuing his stride.

“As long as you don’t drop it on me, absolutely.”

You were shocked by how quickly the next few hours went by as you sat and talked with Javi. The conversation flowed between you effortlessly as you covered the basic conversations, like your likes and dislikes, favorite things and families. You had even worked up the nerve to tell him how you ended up in Laredo after you broke things off with Paul. Now a few drinks in, your liquid courage had you diving in deeper.

“So, tell me this, Javi. You are arguably one of the most handsome men I have ever seen. You nursed me back to health from what was clearly a life or death experience, and you have impeccable taste, besides the fact that you haven’t seen Raiders of the Lost Ark, or Star Wars, or E.T., which I will forgive you for, as long as you do good on your promise to watch it with me. You have also proven to be an exceptional kisser. How the hell are you still single? Is there something I’m missing? Are you like, secretly married and have a family, a serial killer, wanted by the FBI, are the people at this party a part of some sort of secret cult that’s gonna kidnap me?! C’mon, there’s gotta be something?!”

Javi coughed on the beer that he had just sipped down his throat. “Jesus quierda, no! What would make you think that?”

“You seem too good to be true, there’s gotta be a flaw somewhere, c’mon!!”

“Well, I’m gonna take the high road and assume you’re not any of those things, I could say the same about you. This is most fun I’ve had since being back home.”

You raised your eyebrows and gave him a questionable gaze.

“I’m being serious, hermosa.” You could feel in his words that he meant it.

“Well I’m glad. This is the most fun I’ve had in a really long time too.”

You sat in a comfortable silence. Looking around, you noticed that not only had the sun gone down, but the once bustling backyard had now dwindled down to only a few party goers on the patio and a small crowd inside. The last thing you wanted to do was leave, but you also didn’t want to be walking alone at night, half hobbling from your injury.

“Hey, I’m really sorry, believe me, the last thing I want to do right now is leave, but I probably should start waking home before it gets too late. Not a huge fan of being a woman walking alone in the dark, ya know?”

Javi quickly set down his beer. “You were going to walk home?!”

“What, I’m not allowed to walk?! I don’t live that far, and it won’t take that long, I’ll be fine!” You crossed your arms in defiance.

“The shuffle across the yard I watched you take to go to the bathroom an hour ago says otherwise. Hermosa, let me drive you home, please?”

Too in pain to prove a point, you let out a huff of defeat. “Fine.”

“Thank you. I know you CAN do it, but I will carry your stubborn ass back before I let you walk. Here.”

He extended his arm out to help pull you out of your seat. He followed your lead taking slow steps across the yard, leading you out to the street where his truck was parked. Before you could argue, he opened up the passenger side door and lifted you up into the seat. “Just gotta get the keys from my pops and then I’ll be right back.

“What if I try to make a break for it?”

“It won’t take me long to catch you.”

“Touché.”

Javi closed the door behind him as he headed his way back into the house. Watching him in stride, you really needed to thank whoever made those jeans.

Javi found his dad amongst his friends at the kitchen table inside, talking and laughing amongst themselves. “Hey Pops, can I have the keys?”

Chucho took a sip of his beer and looked around at his friends. “Seems like things are going well then, huh?” The men chuckled to one another. “She’s very cute, Javi. Seems like she doesn’t put up with your Mireda either, I’m surprised she wants to spend more time with you!”

“Well she lives close and walked here and after Don’s clumsy ass still broke a bottle in her leg, I’m not gonna let her walk home. Believe me, I was worried I was gonna have to carry her.”

“I’m giving you a hard time, Javi. Here, take the keys. Don’t worry about me, I’m sure one of these fine gentleman will give this old man a ride home.”

“Thanks pop.” Javi took the keys that were outstretched in his father’s hand. As he began to walk back out to the car, he grabbed Javi’s arm.

“It’s been a long time since I’ve seen you smile like you have tonight. It’s a good look on you, hijo.”

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staytinyville · 1 year ago

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OUTLAW (20)

ATEEZ poly!ot8 x Reader

Cowboy AU / Wild West

Series Masterlist

Warning: none, mentions of the last chapter

A/N BETA READ (@mariana-mmtz). Just know I am reading every single one of your comments and reblogs. I love them so much!

You had no idea where it was you were going so late at night, but by the time you knew it you were standing in the alleyway where you had first come across the boys. You knew your older brother had the night shift that day and you didn’t want to pass by him, so you figured going through the window was the best thing.

The lights to their room were on, which let you know they were still awake. You looked down, sighing to yourself as you began to get anxious from bothering them. However, you really needed someone to comfort you, and they were the first people you had in mind.

It made you smile bitterly as you thought about how right your parents must have seemed to want more than one man to comfort you. But you didn’t want to think of that. All you wanted was for one of them to hug you. So you tapped on the window.

As soon as Yunho opened the door, he looked at you in worry. Meeting his eyes, tears began to gather once more. You started to sniffle, quickly pulling yourself through the window as Yunho moved to get you inside. You allowed yourself to fall into his chest once you made it into the room, hugging him tightly as you silently sobbed.

“Hey, Honey.” Yeosang whispered as grew closer to you two. He began to massage your scalp, trying to sooth you. “What's wrong?”

Yunho pulled you away from the window, moving to sit down on the bed. Jongho sat up from the other bed, the same worried expression on his face. You moved to Yunho’s side, placing your head in your hands as you harshly wiped away your tears. The anger you felt over the whole thing came back.

“The whole town thinks I'm a scarlet lady!” You cried. “The sheriff told my parents about the made up affair I had with Yunho and now they are starting to believe those lies.” You sniffled again, looking at them as your lips trembled.

“Hey-Hey.” Yunho moved to crouch in front of you, his fingers wiping your cheeks. “You are not those people.”

You huffed in a breath, trying to talk without breaking down. “I know I'm not, but it hurts to know my parents think I am.” You frowned.

“People just have a hard time understanding others.” Yeosang moved to sit next to you, his shoulder touching you for comfort without getting into your space.

“They're my parents, Yeosang.” You stood up, softly moving around Yunho. “I know they're gonna think differently of me, but it pains me to know that they would rather believe some town gossip.” Your voice grew smaller.

“And yeah, maybe I have been spending too much time with you guys-”

“So you're gonna leave?” Your head snapped towards Jongho who’s shoulders were sagged and his jaw was tight.

He didn’t allow you to finish whatever it was you were going to say, but he felt like he knew where it was you were going to go. It was always the same when they came across someone who could be a potential friend. Potential lover–at least for him.

He could see that the others must think of you in the same way. He saw all the glances the boys would take when looking at you. It was usually when you were doing something out of pocket, like arguing with Wooyoung or sneering at something one of them did.

You weren’t like other women who tried to follow everything a man would say. You always had something to say that left them all laughing. Even if they were to come across someone like you, they would never allow anything to go that far because they were criminals. No one ever gave them the chance to explain themselves and if they did, who would want to be on the run forever.

“What?” You frowned at him.

“You're gonna make us leave?” Jongho slowly stood up, looking at you with an intense look. “Stop coming to see us? We understand why you would want to-”

“I would never leave you guys for something as stupid as gossip.” You told him a bit too harshly. “My business is my business. I'm not gonna fall for their stupid game of charades.”

“Why wouldn't you?” Jongho continued. “You're a working lady who needs to find a husband who would give her what she needs.”

Your heart seemed to pull at itself as you took in Jongho’s words. His words stung a bit, thinking maybe he didn’t see you in any way other than a woman who should be at home. He didn’t peg you as the kind of person to think that way. He was always open with the way you talked about things. He even said that he liked that way you were. Why did he tell you those things now?

“And what do I need?” You asked him. “I have it here. At the hotel.” You glanced around, playing with your fingers as you looked up at all of them. “With-With you guys.” You whispered.

“I don't want to find a man who will stick me in a house to take care of kids. I don't want to be forced to change because someone wants me to.” You looked at Jongho who couldn’t meet your eyes. “I want to be free.”

Jongho’s lips trembled at your words. He was quick to turn around to avoid looking at you.

There would always be a part of Jongho who hoped to live the life that was so commonly found here. Fall in love with a woman, get married and live on a farm with the right amount of animals. He would work for his family and provide for them. His wife would be waiting for him every day with dinner and kisses.

But this was the life he knew was meant for him. It wasn’t that he resented it, it was what took him out of his depression way back when. He would never give up what he had with the boys to live that kind of dream life. But it will still be a dream that was hidden deep within his mind. It might have been small, but Jongho knew there were better things for others than the life of a criminal.

“Jongho.” Your voice brought him out of his stupor. However, he chose to ignore you and went to enter the bathroom.

Your shoulders dropped as you watched his retreating back. Yeosang and Yunho glanced at each other, sighing.

The youngest had always been the one who looked like he didn’t enjoy the life they led. He has expressed multiple times that wasn’t the case and that he was happy to have met them all. However, it was clear Jongho wanted certain things in life that were not available to them. They knew the boy had grown attached to you.

“How about we go back to the rest of the guys?” Yeosang called out, smiling softly at you. “You'll feel better.”

You turned to the tall man, frowning. “But it's late. It'll take us hours to get there.”

“Did you stop trusting us?” Yunho laughed. “We're bandits, Angel. We know what we're doing.”

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#kpop fanfic #ateez #ateez fanfic #ateez imagines #ateez x reader #ateez wooyoung #ateez hongjoong #ateez san #ateez yeosang #ateez mingi #ateez jongho #ateez yunho #ateez seonghwa #fanfiction #yunho x reader #yeosang x reader #jongho x reader

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thyme-in-a-bubble · 1 year ago

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the shed

lilac, chapter ten

a/n: the drama is here, folks. it has arrived. welcome.

summary: “he’s here,” you shuttered, your words barely above a whisper.

warnings: lumberjack!frank castle x reader, lumberjack AU, past domestic violence, crazy ex trope, kinda mob!ex-boyfriend vibes, angst, crying, violence

word count: 2358

∼ gentle reminder that feedback, but especially reblogs are the way you support writers on here ∽

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“Hey, Otto,” you smiled warmly as the small town’s sheriff untangled his scarf from around his neck and marched up to where you were wiping a small table down with a damp cloth, “Donna should be here soon if you wanna sit with her during lunch.”

“Oh, I’d love to,” the seasoned man sighed longingly, “but unfortunately the stack of paperwork I left at my desk won’t allow me to hear the latest gossip. She’ll just have to fill me in tomorrow.”

“So, to go then?” the rag in your grasp finished up its cleanly dance across the smooth woodgrain.

“Yeah,” he nodded, thinking out loud as he glanced down to stuff as much of the scarf into his left pocket as it could bear, “right now I’m thinking a sandwich, unless, what’s your special today?”

“Uh, it’s a dahl,” you informed him, carefully folding up the wipe as you stepped closer towards the kitchen door, the sheriff shadowing the short journey, “got lots of spinach and stuff in it.”

“Oh, it’s dahl day? Well, then forget about the sandwich, I’ll have some of that with rice, just rice, and maybe if you could also fill up my thermos with some fresh coffee, that would be great,” he opened up his coat and conjured the nifty decanter from a roomy inner pocket.

“You got,” you uttered before he handed the flagon off to you and your feet carried you the rest of the way into the kitchen, “hey, dad?” you gently patted his shoulder as you walked past his stance by the stove to get to the coffee maker.

“Yeah, sweetie?” he halted his stirring and tapped the turmeric-stained spoon on the edge of one of the simmering pots before resting it back down on a little plate to the side.

Unscrewing the top off of the pastel yellow thermos, you gingerly streamed in some of the requested brew, “can you pack up a portion of dahl with rice for Otto?”

“Yep, yep,” he fished out a spatula from one of the jugs on the counter that simply overflowed with various utensils, “tell him it’ll be one second.”

Entering the dining space once more, you handed off the filled thermos to sheriff Nilsen, “here,” who now sat on one of the chairs, “he says it’ll just be a moment.”

“Thanks, kid,” he flashed you a warm smile just before you turned on your heel, “you have a great rest of your day, yeah?”

“You too!” you glanced back over your shoulder with a small wave.

As you strode towards the lobby and the thick stack of mail you still hadn’t sorted through, a voice began to catch your ear.

“Fiancé?” old lady Edith’s shrill tone cut through from around the corner, “well, I had absolutely no idea she was engaged,” as you entered the lobby from behind the front desk, your gaze seized to take in the individual the elder was conversing with as your fingers were too busy scooping up the stack of letters, “and to a fella as handsome as you? Well, isn’t she lucky.”

“Well, she just likes to be modest. One of the many qualities I adore about her.”

Your body instantly froze as the man’s low timbre filled the inn. The shuffling of mail halted as terror shot down your spine.

Slowly raising your panicked eyes, they only seized to grow wider as they glazed over the back-turned individual standing opposite Edith. Shifting his stance, he uncrossed his arms and lowered them to his sides, the crisply up-twisted black button-down sleeves framed in and nearly made it impossible for you not to take in the sight of the recognisable ink that slithered out from under the hem, curled around the honied skin of his forearm and ended right on the back of his ring adorned hand.

As the letters fell from your grip and casketed over the desk and onto the floor like a fallen jenga tower, the dull commotion managed to catch the pair’s attention as Edith’s hooded eyes trained upon your frozen frame and to your horror, the very reason for you being back here in the first place, turned around as well to spot you.

“Oh,” a chillingly perfect smile spread across Preston’s lips, “hey, doll,” his tone ever casual as if he’d just talked to you two minutes ago, “there you are.”

With your heart nearly bursting out of your chest, you didn’t even register that your feet had begun to move before you reached the backdoor out through the sunroom.

Ripping it open, you sprinted out and over the porch, your speed only increasing as the dewy grass stained your shoes.

Your eyes were wild, raking across the terrain, franticly attempting to come up with a plan as you went, but swiftly they locked upon where the thick forest began to bloom just beyond the patchy field that stretched between it and the inn’s garden.

But as you glanced back over your shoulder, the panicked plan of escape withered and died as you spotted your ex marching through the sunroom, his visage clear through the latticed glass of the door.

Whipping your head around, you spotted the small decrepit tool shed just a few paces to your left. Rushing to the rickety structure, you sucked in a sharp breath as your desperate push to one of the tattered double doors caused the faintest of clangs to reverberate from the rusty dinner bell that decorated the outside as an echo of the past.

Gingerly shutting the door after you slipped inside, careful as to not evoke any more alarms and ruin your hiding spot, the lack of a lock on the simple doors had completely slipped your memory as your blurry vision stared down at the rudimentary pull handles and nothing else.

Hyperventilating and nearly feeling like you’d faint, you instead pulled over a dust-covered table and pushed it up against the exit, a few screws rattling and rolling off it as it settled in its new place.

Eyes transfixed on the doors, your feet began to back up, not halting till the rough wood of the far side wall stopped you. Reaching into your pocket, you blindly fished out your phone and dialled up the only number you could think of.

“Hey, I was just about to call you,” Frank’s contrasting tone flowed out from the receiver, “thought I’d maybe swing by when I'm done here in town–…” although his genuine words abruptly ceased as a shuttering cry trembled from your lips, “…Y/n? What’s wrong?”

Your body shook so fiercely that keeping a hold of your phone proved to be a daunting task.

“F-Frank,” you sobbed.

“What, what is it?”

“…he’s here. He’s here,” you uttered shakily through your tears, “I walked into the lobby and there he was, I–, fuck…” you squeezed your eyes shut a moment, “Frank, what do I do?”

“Alright, listen to me,” his tone changed in an instant, “did he see you?”

“Y-yes,” you tried your best to keep your voice hushed.

“Where are you?”

“I hid in the old shed out back, but, shit, I'm not sure if–”

Your fear then came to fruition as the doors suddenly rustled, bumping against the makeshift blockade before the attempt was dropped and a low knock instead found your ears.

“He’s here,” you shuttered, your words barely above a whisper.

“Doll?” Preston’s voice seeped through the rotten wood, “I know that you’re in there,” he tried to shove the doors open once more, the whole world seeming to quake at his attempt.

Eyes darting around the dim space, you spotted a small broken window to your left. Raising up your elbow, all of the adrenaline that pumped throughout your veins didn’t even let you register the pain as you slammed it against the remaining bits of jagged glass that were stuck to the window, as well as when the remaining short shards stabbed your palms and scratched up the screen of your phone as you desperately began to crawl out.

“Come on, just open up the door, I don’t have time for any childish games.”

The sudden sound of the door crashing open and the table scraping across the floor shot straight into your bones.

Already halfway out, your knee bent up to hoist the remaining half of your shaky form out of the narrow opening, but just as you twisted to do so, a bruising grip grabbed hold of the leg and tugged you back inside, sending you crashing down upon the concrete floor.

Motes of dust seemed suspended in the air as you coughed on the cold ground. Steadying yourself with your bloodied palms, your hazy vision found your phone by your side, shattered and completely dark.

Seizing the crown of your locks, he yanked you back up to your feet.

“Now why would you do something like that, huh?” he uttered in such a mundane tone that you’d almost rather have him yell. Dragging you with him towards the doors and still hung agape on the rusty hinges, he grabbed a petite shovel that rested on the messy table and jammed the wooden shaft through the loops of the two handles. Gliding his dominant hand up your frame as he backed you up, the long fingers swiftly enveloped your throat as your back slammed against a wall, “I just wanna have a little conversation with you,” like splintery sandpaper, the rough wood scraped against your spine, and your eyes squeezed shut, “uh uh,” the stinging grip he had on your hair loosened, drifting his knuckles down your cheek in a cruel caress as he demanded, “look at me when I’m talking to you,” your whole frame jerked as you felt him land a harsh slap across your cheek, “show me those pretty eyes,” and your bloodshot glare blinked open, “there,” he wiped the tears that trickled down your face, “that wasn’t so hard, was it?” your gaze flickered down to the ominous ink that glazed the appendage clasped around your airway. The head of the snake that decorated the back of his palm nearly looked like it was about to come alive and bite into your jugular vein, “you know, if you wanted to go on a little trip back home, all you had to do was say so, we could have figured something out.”

Soon, your hands fluttered up to warily drift on either side of his, a shift that caused his jaw to clench.

“Doll,” he glared down at your lacking jewel, “where’s your ring? Did you misplace it again? If you keep doing that, then I’m just gonna think you don’t like it,” his head tilted to the side in an almost sombre manner, “what, was the diamond not big enough? If you want something more showy, you know all you have to do is ask, money’s just money. Maybe a sapphire? You could look like Princess Diana. Hell, if you want the real thing, I know a guy,” his face slowly inched closer to yours, “I would do anything for you, you know that right?” he proclaimed with an eerie smile upon his lips, “anything, that’s how much I love you. Even if you can’t always wrap your simple little head around the reasoning in the moment,” his free fingers moved to brush some of your dishevelled hair into place, “it’s always because I love you.”

“Preston, please,” your voice was low as you gasped, fretful fingers lightly tapping against his unyielding grip, “you’re hurting me.”

“Don’t tell me what to do,” he warned softly, rage crackling in his fiery gaze, “you don’t do that,” ignoring your struggling, he went back to wistfully fixing your hair, “you just stand there, like the pretty doll you are and be perfect for me.”

“C-can’t breathe–”

“Oh, you can’t?” his brows furrowed mockingly, “is this better?” he asked as his ring-adorned fingers tightened around your throat and squeezed so taut that no air could reach your lungs, “you are mine,” he pressed his lips to your cheek as your eyes fluttered and your limbs fought against the inevitable fate of shortly passing out, “you will always be fucking mine.”

But just as the world began to slip out from under you, a loud crash found your ears. Forcing your eyes to open, you witnessed as the door got kicked in, the improvised lock shattering into shards from the blow and scattering across the dirty ground.

Glaring over his shoulder, Preston exclaimed, “who the fuck are you?”

Only looming in the doorway for a fragment of a second, Frank didn’t give him the satisfaction of an answer as he rushed to rip Preston off of you.

As you crumbled to the ground, painful coughs escaped your frame. The shed still felt like it spun beneath you as your hazy gaze fluttered up to see Frank pin Preston against the wall. As if you were underwater, their voices seemed miles away as you watched Frank’s callused fist repeatedly collide with the side of your ex’s face.

This wasn’t how you wanted it to happen. Every thunderous crack prompted a dreadful pit to dig itself within your gut. You weren’t doubting that Preston didn’t deserve this, but you had also come to learn a fragment of the truth of just how few of those punches it took for Frank to have an individual no longer breathing.

Frantically casting your gaze everywhere and anywhere, past the garden, out in the driveway, the faint sight of the sheriff, lunch in hand, tossing his scarf around his neck and strolling back to his car, found your fuzzy vision.

Stumbling, you crawled out the door and weakly pulled yourself up enough to reach the short rope that hung from the old bell, the looming unconsciousness steadily catching up to you as you strained to do so.

Ringing the bell once, twice, and on the third time, just as you saw Otto whip his head around in your direction, your vision finally faded to complete darkness as you crumbled to the ground.

#lea’s writing #lilac series #lumberjack!frank castle #frank castle x reader #frank castle imagine #frank castle series #frank castle x fem!reader #frank castle angst #frank castle hurt/comfort #frank castle x you #frank castle x y/n #frank castle x female reader #frank castle x f!reader #frank castle fic #the punisher fic #frank castle fanfiction #the punisher x reader #lumberjack au

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justmeinadaze · 5 months ago

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Small Doses (Gator X Plus Size Fem Y/N)

A/N: Some of you asked for a series so I'm providing you with this here :). It takes place before this request except for those last couple of paragraphs. That's after. ENJOY!

Warnings: Dominate/ Mean( ish) Gator Tillman/ Plus Size Fem sub reader, SMUT, LOTS of dirty talk, light smacking, light choking, public (ish) sex (no one is around but anyone could come by), degrading, edging, blindfolds and restraints, aftercare always.

Light Fluff near the end.

ANGST (because I'm me), Gator is a bit possessive (she's his!), reader discusses her annoyance with his relationship with his father, enemies to lovers, cliffhanger ending (you're welcome).

Word Count: 4289

"Oh baby, I said "just a little bit" Then I got a taste of it Now you got me falling at your feet And now we're cryin' and lovin' And now we're fightin' and touchin' Feels like I'm making love to the enemy."

You both panted heavily, your back pressed against his chest as you tried to catch your breath. His arm was still wrapped around your stomach holding your steady while your own arm circled around the back of his neck. Gator’s eyes were still squeezed shut as he basked in the feeling of your pussy still clinging to his cock inside of you.

The deputy had come by to tell you that they still hadn’t found anything when it came to the man that robbed your bar and when he got sassy with you, you smacked him hard. You hated Gator Tillman with a passion but when he responded to your slap by grabbing your hair and bending you over one of your pool tables, you didn’t object.

The dirty words that left his mouth had you dripping and by the time he slammed his length inside of you, you were more than ready. You hated how fucking good he felt stretching you out and the way his large palms fit perfectly around your equally large breast. You hated that even as one of the bigger girls in town, he was still strong enough to man handle you into any position and place he wanted till you were whimpering for him to make you cum.

You hated that he filled you to the brim with his release and still you wanted more.

Your sweaty forehead rested on his cheek and in turn he craned his neck till his lips softly found yours. It was a tender contrast to what had just transpired but you were grateful for it in your current head space.

After a few minutes, he pulled out of you and handed you a napkin from a nearby table without meeting your eyeline.

“Thank you.”, you whisper.

After nodding awkwardly and buckling his pants, Gator turned and powerwalked out the front door.

What the fuck just happened?

***

For the next month, nothing changed or transpired when it came to you and Gator Tillman. He continued to be an asshole and showed up at your bar with his friends after work hooting and hollering at any woman that walked by.

“I bet she can bend in ways no man has ever seen!”, another officer shouts after he loudly whistles at the young lady who walked past.

“Fuck, I’d love to hear her scream my name.”, another laughed before chugging back his drink.

“Oh, yeah. Just like that.”, Gator mimed in a high pitch voice that had you rolling your eyes.

“Please. Like any of you idiots can handle a beautiful woman.”

“Oh, come on, Y/N! Don’t be jealous.”

“Of you idiots? Naw I’m good.”

“No, I mean of the beautiful women.”

Up until then Gator had been chuckling with his friends but at the remark his eyes darkened as he punched the other officer’s arm hard. His grumble was low but you could swear you heard him say, “Don’t be a fucking dick or I swear to God…”

When you were running errands around town, you till saw him backing up his father with this air of arrogance that bothered the hell out of you.

“Good morning, Y/N.”

You jump slightly at the sound of the elder Tillman’s voice as he stands behind you in line at a restaurant where you were picking up some breakfast and coffee.

“Sheriff Tillman, Gator.”, you nod as you address both men as politely as possible.

“How’s your dad doin’? I heard he got sick last week. Caught that flu bug that’s been going around.”

“Hm. Like you care.”

“Hey! This is an officer of the law and you will show respect.”, his son growled your way but his father held up his hand to silence him and addressed you again.

“I do care. As a member of this community—”

“You tolerate him but you don’t care. My dad is just another vote in your pocket. You don’t have to be nice to us. No one in my family votes for you, Roy.”

As your eyes flicked towards Gator, you expected to see annoyance but found what looked like confusion. No one ever stood up to his father not even him.

How did you have the confidence to do that?

It wasn’t until a couple of weeks later, you saw that angry look in his eyes again. That look he gave you at the bar before fucking you senseless.

It was a normal night for you at work as you served drinks and received some good tips. You felt good in your new black tank top that was tucked into your too tight jeans that hugged your curves and thick thighs just right. A gentleman you didn’t recognize sat at the end of the bar making small talk with you as you did your job running back and forth.

You didn’t think anything of it until a familiar smell filled your nostrils and the sound of glass slamming against the counter got your attention.

“Another beer, now.”, Gator grunted.

Glaring his way, you snatch the cup from his grasp and begin to refill it.

“A please wouldn’t kill you, Tillman.”

“How about this, Y/L/N? How about you please put on a fucking a shirt that doesn’t flash your tits to everyone in the fucking bar.”

“Huh. Didn’t realize you and your daddy started policing what people wear now.”, you sass as your eyes meet his and pour half his drink into the sink before sliding the rest his way. “Last call.”

His fury filled eyes snapped towards the stranger as he snickered at your display.

After walking away, the man scooted closer to you and you both giggled about the incompetence of the police in this town. He told you his name was Liam and that he was just passing through but he wanted to get to know you. After giving him your number, you closed down the bar and he walked you to your car.

“I’ll see you on Friday?”

“That sounds like a plan.”

He grins your way before reaching out to caress your cheek making you blush as you giggle like a nervous teenager. After watching him get on his motorcycle and drive away, you climbed into your own car and began you short drive home.

You didn’t even notice another car was behind you until the sirens on the cruiser began to wail.

“Fuck.”, you sigh as you pull over and roll down your window.

“License and registration.”

“Gator? What the fuck?”

“I said license and registration…please.”

You glare at his sarcastic tone as you do what he says and he snatches them roughly from your grasp like you had with his glass.

“So are you going to tell me why you pulled me over, Officer?”

“Broken taillight.”, he replies nonchalantly as he continues to look at your license and slowly saunters backwards towards your trunk.

“What? I got that fixed a few months ago—” The sound of breaking glass cut you off as Gator bashed the end of his flashlight against your car as the taillight shatters to the ground. “What the FUCK?! You can’t fucking do that!”, you shout as you get out of your vehicle and march towards him.

His jaw tightens as you shove his chest.

“Get back in the car before I arrest you.”

“I’m not afraid of you Gator Tillman! You’re going to pay for that!”

As your hand flew, he caught your wrist and forcefully shoved you face first against the hood of his cruiser. Taking ahold of your other arm, he cuffed your hands behind your back and kicked your legs apart with his foot.

“You have the right to remain silent…even though we both know you fucking wont…so I’m going to shut that mouth for you.”

You blinked as a quick rush of relief washed over you when you realized you weren’t really going to jail before a new feeling took over as his large palms ran up your legs. When his fingers lightly grazed between your thighs a little sigh left your lips. Rising to his full height he roughly yanked you off his car and continued to run his hands along your body.

“Face forward.” He grumbled as you craned your neck to look at him when he unbuttoned your jeans and his palm slid under the waist band of your panties. “Little girl is so wet.”, he cooed mockingly as his middle finger slid through your folds grazing your clit. “Is that because of me… or that fucker you were making fun of me with at the bar?”

“No…no, I wasn’t…”

“Don’t lie to me. Little whore couldn’t help herself could she?”

“Gator, please—ahhh—I’m sorry.”

“I bet you’re sorry. Don’t worry, baby. You’re gonna make it up to me.”

Abruptly, he pulled his hand from between your legs, spun you around, and shoved you to your knees. As he unzipped his pants and freed his cock, you couldn’t stop thinking about how degrading this was. Any car could pass by and see what was happening. You were on the side of a deserted road at 2 in the morning on your knees for Gator Tillman of all people.

But you loved it.

As his hand rested on the top of your head and his other guided the tip of his length to your lips, you salivated at the notion.

“That’s right, you little brat. Open wide for me.”

Flattening your tongue, you allowed him to use you as he lifted your hair into a makeshift ponytail so he could watch you struggle to take all of him.

“Fuck, baby, that’s it. Fucking choke on my dick. Y-You can remember this when you let—shit—some other asshole touch what’s mine.” When your head shook, he gripped your hair tighter as he pulled out of your mouth and a string of your spit followed. “Something to say?”

“I didn’t let…I don’t…”

“Y-You didn’t, huh? Fucking liar.”, Gator growled as he shoved himself back into your awaiting mouth and thrust his hips. “I saw him touch your face and I saw you allow it. Some—mmm—stranger who doesn’t know you or a-appreciate you.”

Again, he pulled out and bent till his face was level with yours.

“I’m gonna cum on these tits so whenever you show them off like you did at the bar you’ll remember who you belong to. Who’s fucking cum you begged to have on your chest.” His palm lightly slaps your cheek as his eyes continue to bore into you. “Beg me, Y/N.”

“Please—”

“Beg me to cum on you.”

“Gator, please. I need you to cum—”

“Cum where, little girl?”

“On my tits.”

His hand lightly smacks you again.

“Louder! Like you mean it!”

“Please, Gator, I want you to cum on my tits!!”

“That’s better.”, he grunted as he shoved his cock back in your mouth and thrust his hips till you felt him shutter against you.

Continuing to stroke himself rapidly, he pulled back and aimed for the valley between your breasts as his movements became sloppy and his release coated your skin.

“Fuck.”, he panted as he fell to his knees and aggressively hugged your head to his shoulder.

You don’t know what possessed you but your lips tenderly kissed his neck and in response he lightly tugged on your hair, tilting your head back so he could kiss your lips. It was a lot more passionate than the last time and you welcomed it.

After a few moments, Gator rose to his feet and tucked his cock back into his pants before reaching for your bicep to help you stand. Disappearing in his cruiser, he came back with a tissue and cleaned your chest while also adjusting your outfit. Instead of turning you around, he reached over you to uncuff your wrists and as soon as you were able, you wrapped your arms around his shoulders tightly to pull him into a hug.

Not used to this display of affection, it took him awhile to respond but when he did, he held you equally as tight. When you finally let him go, he reached into his back pocket to pull out his wallet and hand you some bills.

“For the taillight.”, he mumbled.

He flashed you a small smile after you thanked him and silently headed back towards his car.

“I have a date with him on Friday.”, you shout towards him causing him to still with his back to you. “Unless there’s something I should know about going.”

Silently, he climbs into his car and the engine comes to life. Visibly hurt by his lack of words, you run to his open window. “I thought I belonged to you.”, you growled through clenched teeth. “But I get it. I may belong to Gator Tillman but he’s already owned by someone else…Roy Tillman.”

Angerly, his head snaps in your direction as his hands clench around the steering wheel.

“If you go on that date, Y/N, I’ll make you regret it.”

##################

“Wow, honey, you look fucking gorgeous.”

“Thank you.”, you beam at Liam as you twirl your dress for him to admire.

You genuinely considered skipping your date due to Gator’s warning, you really did, but you also knew that you meant what you said about him catering to his daddy. You couldn’t wait around for Gator Tillman to get his act together even if you did enjoy the couple of instances you both were intimate with each other.

Could you really even call it intimacy? He was fucking you and using you like a whore. You were never going to be anything more to him and you were fine with that. You were never meant to be what Roy Tillman thought a wife should be so you needed to move on and find someone else who could love you for you.

“Oh, um, I’ve never been on a motorcycle.”

“No problem. Just sit behind me here…”, he instructed as you both straddled the bike and he smirked your way as he took hold of your arms to wrap them around his waist. “…and hold on tightly. I can do the rest.”

By the time you got to the restaurant, you were already annoyed. Liam sped through every stop and weaved through traffic like a mad man, scaring the hell out of you so much that you prayed Gator was nearby to pull you over.

Unfortunately, you suggested having dinner outside of town in the hopes that you were far enough away from him and his police force to stumble on you disobeying his warning.

Is it disobeying? We aren’t together and the Tillman’s are the worst especially Gator. I can’t lie though that the idea of him catching me here drives me crazy.

As dinner wore on, your eyes began to glaze over as your date continued to talk about himself and the many adventures he had been on that got him laid.

“Y/N.”

At the sound of your name, you looked up meeting Gator’s calm but angry irises with both relief and slight fear.

“Ugh, what do you want, Tillman?”

“I’m sorry to interrupt your date, but your sister was in an accident. Your mom sent me to come get you.”

It took you a second to catch on to what he was doing. You didn’t have siblings of any kind but this stranger wouldn’t know that.

“Oh…Oh no! My sister!? Is she alright? Liam, I am so sorry but I have to go!”

The officer smirked at your display, tilting his hat towards the other man before heading out the door with you in tow.

“Wait! Should we reschedule or—”

Not even bothering to respond, you practically ran to his cruiser and hoped in the backseat. A bit too calmly Gator got in the driver’s seat and began his destination to what you assumed would be your home.

“Thank you…for rescuing me… He was such a fucking asshole.”

“Hm. With the way he drove, I’m not surprised.” Your eyes widened as they met his in the rearview. “What? You thought I wouldn’t follow you? You thought going to some restaurant outside of town would keep me from finding out that were going on a date with that fucker?”

“Wow. No wonder your father allows you to be a police officer in our town. Obviously there isn’t much for you to do or be responsible for.” Gator grumbled at your insult as his hands on the wheel tightened. “If you’re so jealous why didn’t you pull us over?”

“I thought about it when I saw your arms wrap around his waist and your head rest on his back but then I saw your face as he was driving, I thought it was a good karma for you disobeying me.”

“I didn’t disobey, Tillman. I’m not yours TO disobey. You made that very clear.” As he slams on his breaks, you fly forward and quickly try to brace yourself on the gate in front of you. “The FUCK, Gator!”

The car door makes a loud bang as he gets out and angrily opens the back to reach for your arm to yank you to the edge of the seat.

“Say it again.”, he commands roughly, glaring at you as you both pant heavily.

“I’m NOT yours.”

Snaking his hand behind your neck, he pulls your forward to his lips crash to yours. You absolutely hated the vape taste but you enjoyed the taste of him and the way his tongue massaged yours.

“Yeah…well…we’ll see about that, won’t we? Now, sit back and shut the fuck up. Do I make myself clear?” When all you could do was nod, his hand slid further up till it was laced in your hair before tugging on it firmly. “I said do I make myself clear?”

“Yes, Gator.”, you whimpered causing him to smirk down at you with a cocky smile.

“Good girl.”

***

“Gator, pleeeeease…”, you whine as he pushes the vibrating toy further into your cunt.

You had been laying in his bed, blindfolded and restrained for what felt like an eternity. His handcuffs were starting to dig into your skin where had been constantly pulling on them as he brought you to the edge before pulling away and leaving you desperate. The silk ties around your ankles were succeeding in keeping your legs open as the officer played with you, switching between utilizing his tongue and the vibrator to drive you crazy.

You desperately wanted to look at him, imagining him sweaty and just as needy as you but the scarf around your eyes prevented you from being able. All you could do was listen to his light chuckles, moans, and the toy as he continued to edge you.

“What’s wrong, honey? Little girl want to cum? Oh, if only you had listened to me instead of going out with that idiot. This is just a horrible night for you all around, huh, baby?”

“Please…I’m sorry…I need to…need to cum.”

“Do you know how much I hated seeing his hands on you?” Picking up his pace, you moaned loudly and a soft laugh escaped his throat. “Shhhh, Y/N. Wouldn’t want my dad to hear you and find you here in bed with me. May ruin that hardass reputation…”

“Don’t care…I just want…you…Gator, please…”

You sobbed as he once again brought you close to a release before yanking you back and you weren’t able to see but his beautiful honey eyes softened at the sound. After listening to him move around, you jerked away when you felt him cradle your head in his palm.

“It’s ok, sweetheart. I’m giving you some water. Just wrap your lips around the rim here. Good girl. Such a good girl.”, he praised making you feel giddy at the sound. “You did so good I’m going to give you what you want, baby, ok?”

“Thank you…thank you… C-Can I see you?”

As the blindfold is removed, you try to refocus your eyes right as he’s taking his place between your legs.

“Fuck, Y/N.”, he groans as he guides himself into your sensitive entrance. “So fucking tight. Don’t worry—mmph—I got you, sweetheart.”

With reckless abandon, Gator pounded his hips into yours needing a release just as bad you did. When his headboard started to hit the wall, he quickly slammed his palm against the wood to keep it still as he thrust himself into you as hard as he could.

“Say my name, Y/N.”

“Oh my God, Gator, just like that.”

“Is that the spot, baby? I know. No one can make me you feel as good as I do.”

“N-No one. Please, Gator, make me cum.”

“I’ll make you—mmm—make you cum. I’ll cum with you, honey. Would you l-like that?”

“Yes! Pl—”

The officer’s free palm closed around your mouth as his eyes watched yours roll back and he felt your heavy breaths warm his skin as you clenched around his cock, coming harder than you ever had in your life.

“Oh, shit.”, Gator grunted as his rhythm faltered and you felt him warm your insides.

After a few moments to compose himself, he diligently removed your binds and disappeared into his bathroom before returning with a rag to clean you with.

“Are you ok? Do your wrists hurt?”, he whispered making you softly smile his way.

“Why are you whispering after all the noise we probably made?”, you murmur back.

A smile you had never seen on him the entire time you had known Gator Tillman flashed across his face making your own grin grow as you both nervously chuckled. Mid-giggle, his hands cupped your face as his lips found yours. Neither of you moved, just allowed your mouths to touch as his thumb tenderly caressed your cheek.

When he pulled away, your heart cracked when you noticed all the emotion in his eyes recede before clearing his throat.

“Yeah so, um, take your time and whenever you’re ready I can take you back home.”

#############

“You don’t know me, Tillman.”

“I’d like to, Y/L/N.” Your eyes met his as he continued. “I know you hate me but I’d like to prove to you I’m not the asshole everyone thinks I am.”

“Ok.” Gator’s eyes widen excitedly as your smile grows at the sight. “But I swear to God if he comes at me with ‘A woman’s place is…’—“.

“You can say whatever you want to. Just know, though, that I can keep you safe and take care of you.”

“I know, Gator. I know.”

Your conversation you had with him lingered in your brain for the next couple of days until the night of your first official date with the officer you used to hate with a passion.

He picked you up and, like a gentleman, introduced himself formally to your father, opened your car door on the passenger side of his cruiser, and adorably gave you some flowers he had bought before heading to your house.

“Gator, thank you but you don’t have to try so hard.”

“Pfft, who says I’m trying? I’m always this polite and sweet.”

“Oh, yeah, sure.”, you giggle.

After arriving at the restaurant, it took you both some time to find a groove but once you did, talking to him felt almost effortless. He made you laugh constantly, neither of you caring about the patrons who were side eyeing you both the entire time. When you reached out to casually touch his hand, he felt like he was on top of the world.

“Gator.” At the sound of his father’s voice, he promptly pulled his hand away from your own and sat up straighter in his seat. “I heard you were out here having dinner with a friend but I didn’t know you were friends with Y/N.”

Your date froze, not saying a word as his gaze shifted to the floor.

“So how long have you two been hanging out?”

Roy’s tone was loaded with condescension as he looked between you and his son. That didn’t bother you as you were used to that kind of behavior from the eldest Tillman. What was pissing you off was that Gator wasn’t speaking up. He said you could say whatever you wanted but you didn’t expect to be saying everything.

“Oh, Roy, we’ve been hanging out on and off for a while now; at my bar, his cruiser, and even your house! Right, Gator?”

When his honey irises locked with your own eyes, you could see the conflict within them but he insisted you were safe with him and that he could take care of you. What if his dad insisted he needed to date someone who was the opposite of you. With the way he was acting, it seemed he’d agree and not defend you when the time came.

“Hm, I see. Well, don’t worry, Sheriff, we won’t be hanging out anymore.”

“Y/N, wait—”, Gator pleads as he reaches for your arm as you grab your bag and rise to your feet.

“Don’t fucking touch me! It seems you’re already in a committed relationship and there’s no room for me.”, you spit as your angry eyes size up his dad. “Leave me alone, Gator. I’m done dealing with your bullshit.”

“You and me both, girl.”, Roy murmurs sarcastically as he turns towards his son.

Usually, you would say something snarky back at him referring to you that way but you didn’t have the strength. You need every ounce of energy you could muster to find the courage to turn away from the man you starting to fall for before he broke your heart.

####################

@ilikegirlswhoeatcarrotsblog @dashingdeb16 @nailbatanddungeon

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quixoticall · 4 months ago

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To Hell I Go

MASTERLIST // PROLOGUE

Suggested Listening: Anything Zach Bryan but particularly, “Open the Gate”, "Nine Ball" and “Oak Island”

WC: 6.9k Chapter Warnings: Gun violence, injury, a bit of Billy redemption I'm sorry idk how that happened, major character death (not really tho) p in v smut, oral (f and m receiving), barn sex, Steve and Sunshine being sassy with each other, parental death

Author’s Note: Hi!!! First, I want to say how grateful I am for the positive feedback. I love writing this story and I am so glad you enjoy reading it so far!! I wanna give a quick disclaimer, I did minimal historical research and am mostly going off vibes and the fact that I’ve spent most of my life in the American Southwest/South and come from a long line of cowboys and ranchers.

Reblogs and comments are always cherished and they are incredibly motivating!

“Excuse me, Miss, I’m hoping you could help me.”

The seat next to you shifts, bringing your attention away from the blurs of jagged mountain edges and gnarled Joshua trees you were watching from the train’s window.

You turn towards an unfamiliar face: angular and delicate, framed by tawny hair that’s cut much too short to be decent on a young woman.

You know better than to call attention to yourself so you just nod politely and hope this interaction is brief.

If your demeanor comes off cold, the girl does not seem to register because she launches into a flurry of words.

“I’m with the Sheriff’s office and few towns over, see, and there’s been a slew of train robberies recently. Have you heard about them?”

You shake your head minutely, your eyes stay trained on the cabin door, hoping Max comes back to pull you away from this interaction.

“Really? You haven’t? It’s all anyone can talk about! There’s been a series of train robberies around Fairbanks and Wilcox. Passengers have been robbed of their valuables and once they even robbed the safe onboard. We reckon it could be the Creel gang but we don’t have too much evidence—“

“Pardon me, but what Sheriff are you working for exactly, Miss…?” You cut her off.

“Buckley. Name’s Robin Buckley and I work for Sheriff Hopper, of course, have you heard of him at least?”

“Can’t say I have. What exactly do you do for Sheriff Hopper, Miss Buckley? It’s unusual for a young lady to be working for a sheriff is if not?” You query. But then again, the girl, herself was unusual, dressed in a man’s shirt tucked into a patchwork skirt with a pair of trousers peaking out underneath and talking fair more than appropriate.

“Well… I’m his secretary of sorts and his deputy’s too.”

This catches your attention and once again your eyes glaze over the peculiar girl. If she was here it was likely Steve or Hopper would be too and if that was the case, you had to lay the lowest of lows. Your eyes scan the cabin of the train, looking for any sign of the sheriff or his deputy.

“What is it that you do, Miss?” She stutters out, blushing under your gaze.

“I’m a governess,” you explain, smoothly, rehearsed. “My ward and I are traveling to California currently.”

It’s the role Creel had assigned as part of his plan. You the governess and Max your ward.

It was a deceptively simple plan: you and Max would board the train, disguised as harmless members of society. Then, once on board, Max would sneak off and make sure the luggage carriage was unlocked from the inside giving Tommy and Carol the opportunity to sneak on during the train’s first stop.

The two would have the opportunity to loot through passengers’ luggage and then Billy would be waiting for them a few stops later, to help them escape.

Against your own doubts, the plan had worked three times thus far but with you’re not sure how much luck you have left with what the Buckley girl has just divulged.

Almost as if by summons, Max appears at the carriage door, face calm but eyes panicked. Behind her you spot the source of her distress: Deputy Harrington.

He’s taller than you remember, you can see that now that he’s standing. Broader too, but undeniably, impossibly him.

“I’m sorry Miss Buckley, it was real nice talking to you, but I’ve got to be going now,” you say hastily picking up your skirts to step around the girl.

Stumbling into the aisle, you hurry to the opposite vestibule door, hiding your face as best as you can.

You’re almost out the other end of the carriages when something posses you to look back, perhaps habit or something worse.

Eyes lock, recognition flashes and yells erupt.

“Stop!”

You are out of the train car in a flash and onto the open vestibule. Knowing you have no place to run but the engine room at the front of the train, you decide to climb upwards onto the flat top of the traincar. You’re not too far from where Billy is meant to be, if you could stay hidden until then you had a chance.

You launch yourself at the thin, metal ladder, weighed down by your pretty, impractical traveling clothes.

You struggle onto the roof and crouch low to brace yourself against the destabilizing wind and rattling movements. Heavy bootfalls trail behind and you rush towards the next car, bracing yourself to either fall or jump.

“Sunshine? Is that really you?” You turn around once more—Orpheus cursed yet again—and for a moment time has gone backwards.

Steve looks equal measure heartbroken and confused.

“What are you doing here?” He bellows over the clash of scrapping metals and whipping winds.

“What are you doing here?” You shrill back.

“I’m… I’m the deputy,” he says as if that’s explanation enough.

“Well la-di-dah.”

He is unaffected by your sarcasm and inches closer, a little awed, a little stunned.

“What are you doing here?” He repeats.

What are you doing here? In this unrecognizable life with the weight of the world on your shoulders?

You could tell him. It’s Steve after all: your life-long confidante, the keeper of your sins. (What’s a few more sins and secrets between the two of you?)

There is no “two of you” anymore though and this is not your Steve either, standing in front of you, brandishing a badge. This is a stranger, an enemy even. This is the bastard who killed your horse and who is working with your most loathsome foe.

You edge away from him, towards the end of the roof.

“I’m robbing a goddamn train,” you finally respond before gathering your skirts and leaping.

You land, just barely, in a piled heap of frills, then right yourself in a rush before taking off running.

He doesn’t follow.

_______________

You trailed behind Steve into the stable.

“Steve I’m not going to hold you to a promise that we made when we were sixteen, if you don’t want to marry me, just tell me, I won’t be mad,” you yelled after him. And you loved him enough to make that true.

Your words stopped him dead in his tracks in the middle of the straw-strewn floor.

“Of course I want to marry you,” he said, eyes sparkling but mouth downturned in a frown. “I’ve wanted to marry you since I was thirteen.”

Your heart softened at this.

“Then what was all that about?”

You had agreed that you would finally reveal your courtship to your family when you got back from finishing school. The two of you had been loving each other in secret for three years now— seeing each other in the cracks of time between your schooling when others wouldn’t suspect. It hadn’t been something you had outwardly discussed, the secret. It was just something both of you were too shy to bring up. It had seemed so good, so pure. Something you didn’t want to be questioned over or given grief about or held against you. But once you were done with school, it felt like adulthood began and you could start loving each other in plain view. Get married even. It was time to tell your family, the two of you had decided together.

Except before you could’ve broached the subject at dinner that night, Steve excused himself from the table, suddenly. There was a mare with a broken leg he desperately needed to check on. Bullshit.

“Your father started talking about setting you up with that Carter fella and I lost my nerve,” Steve sighed. He looked at you with an apology etched in his warm eyes.

“He was only saying that because he didn’t know about us,” you soothed. You drew closer, reaching a hand up to smooth out the crease between his eyebrows.

“No, he was saying that because he wants you to marry you off to someone with money, someone in ‘society’. They didn’t send you to that fancy school just to end up with some ranch hand orphan,” Steve argued back but there was no heat left to him. He just sounded despondent and defeated.

You knew there was some truth to what he was saying. The expectation for you to marry well had always existed, unspoken but present still. And while you would hate to disappoint your parents, it wouldn’t be for nothing and there wouldn’t be anything lost. Your family had money of its own, your sisters’ future did not rely on you securing a rich husband and you let Steve know as much.

“Plus, Daddy’s a good man, he’ll want me to be happy and you make me happy, Steve.“

He smiled at you for the first time that night and it felt something like sunshine.

“You’re right,” he admitted, finally and he took your gentle hand in his work-worn one. One, two, three kisses dotted your cheeks before he pulled you close lips slotting hotly together. His hand gripped the stiff fabric of your bodice hungrily, the pressure drawing soft moans from your mouth.

Your back was against the wall the next instant and Steve’s lips were burning a trail of kisses down your neck. One of his hand traveled from your waist to your thigh, hitching it high around his hips and his lips found yours again. You tightened your leg around him to pull him closer, chasing the sweet friction of his body against yours. He whined into your mouth lowly in response. The next moment, he had pulled away from you and you whimpered at the loss. He was in his knees, his hands wading against your voluminous skirt.

He found your stocking-clad thighs underneath the fabrics and wasted no time in finding the edges of your undergarments.

“Can I?” He asked, earnest and hungry.

You nod feverishly.

“Words, darlin’. Give me your words.”

“Yes, please, Steve, yes.”

Steve disappeared underneath your skirt and you gasped when you feel his hot lips against the soft skin of your stomach. Your underthings were gone in an instant and his mouth traveled lower. Your legs parted and one thigh ended up on his shoulder.

This was new. Something you and Steve had never done, not for lack of wanting and now that you were here, it was sloppy and fervent and perfect.

His mouth locked onto where you need him the most. His lips, soft and malleable, latched onto your hot cunt and his tongue moved to circle your clit.

Your head rolled back against the weathered wooden wall.

“So sweet, so pretty,” you felt him mutter against your skin.

“More,” you pleaded and suddenly you felt his hand circling your slit, so close to where you needed the pressure.

“Inside, Stevie, please.”

“You want me to fill you up, darlin’? You want me to fuck you with my fingers.”

“Yes, please,” you moaned.

“Tell me who you belong to first,” he ordered. “Whose pussy is this?”

“Yours, I’m yours, Steve,” tears welled in your eyes from the desperation.

“Damn right, you’re mine, sweet thing. No one else’s.” As he said that, a finger breached into your tight heat and began to slowly pump in and out.

The stretch became even more delicious when Steve added a second finger. You vaguely thought to yourself that you wanted to feel like this forever and you felt a sense of release approaching.

You cupped a hand against your mouth, stifling the moan that rips through when the rush finally hit you. Your legs wobbled, nearly giving out. Steve peppered a final set of kisses around your body before reappearing from underneath your skirt, eyes heady with lust. You trailed down the wall to sit across from him, eyes fixed on the bulge in his pants. You crawled closer, while Steve watched you with eyes transfixed. You placed a hand on either thigh parting them slightly so you could sit between them.

“I want to make you feel good, too,” you told him, thumbing his waistline.

“Yeah?” He said wantonly while his head lolled against his shoulder.

“Will show me how you like it?”

He nodded eagerly as you unclasped his belt buckle. He helped you undo his pants and free his cock from the confines of his pants.

You had heard things about sex, at school, from your more adventurous classmates and knew the basics well enough to put some into practice.

You reached out to palm the length of his cock, a gentle, experimental tug caused Steve to hiss in response.

“Put your mouth on it, for me darlin’,” his drawled.

You obeyed readily and took his tip into your mouth.

Groaning, he leaned back on one palm while the other threaded itself through your hair. You bobbed your head a bit and with his encouragement your movements grew and became more fluid. You tried your best to navigate the sheer length of him. He was larger than you had ever imagined and you could feel his tip pushing at the back of your throat while you used your hand to stroke what couldn’t fit in your mouth.

He watched you with lust-filled eyes, “You look so pretty with my cock in your mouth. Wanna keep you there forever,” he muttered as he pushed your head lightly, making you gag which elicited another moan from him.

“That’s it, honey, gag on it.”

You could feel him throbbing inside your mouth as you sped up.

“C’mere, I need your sweet little pussy around my cock, right now,” he urged suddenly, pulling your mouth away. You obeyed, eagerly, and he guided you onto his lap legs straddled on either side and skirt bunched up around your middle.

He rubbed circles on your thighs as he eased you down onto his cock. The stretch was foreign but not painful, however, with every inch burned a little more. It was delicious. With some coaxing on Steve’s end you had managed to take him fully and your thighs were flush against his. You felt so full, tears were beginning to dot the corners of your eyes.

“Doin’ so good for me, honey,” he praised, cupping your face to wipe the tears away. “Now, I just need you to ride me.”

His hand moved lower, digging into hips as you began to rock against him. The burn had given away to a delicious friction and you wanted more. Your hips moved quicker against his drawing out a deep groan from Steve. He then pulled you close, capturing your mouth in a searing, wet kiss.

You rocked against him, finding a steady rhythm, whining keenly as a heat grew in your lower stomach.

“Hush baby, someone’s gonna hear,” Steve muttered, strained, before placing his hand over your mouth while only made you burn even hotter.

You felt your release coming up on you again. “Steve,” you panted against his palm, “I’m gonna… “I’m gonna.” You were so wrecked you couldn’t even complete a sentence.

“I know sweet thing, I know, you’re doing so good for me,” Steve soothed in response, “me too.” And with that he began moving his hips up to meet your thrusts with his own.

It had turned into something rough and fast, each thrust reaching deeper than the one before.

You finished, grasping for purchase at his shirt as you rode out the feeling. A few moments later you felt a spasming inside of you as his body went suddenly rigid and then relaxed.

The two of you untangle yourselves, panting as you came down from the bliss.

“Steve?” You probed, a little later when the two of you were propped in an exhausted heap against the wall.

Steve hummed in response.

“Is yours bigger than normal or are all of them like this?”

He was speechless for a moment before breaking out into full guffaws. Your own giggles erupted into full peals of laughter that could not be contained.

Eventually after the laughter had subsided and silence had overtaken the two of you while you became lost in thought, Steve murmured your name.

“Yes?”

“I’m gonna talk to your father tomorrow, man to man and ask for your hand, I promise.”

That was the last time you saw Steve Harrington.

_______________

“Max is missing,” you announce, to no reaction.

You continue, “we need to go find her.”

Deputy Harrington and his lackey had foiled the train robbery.

You had managed to get away along with Tommy and half the loot, thanks to Billy’s good timing. Carol and Max had not been so lucky.

In the days after the scuffle, the crew had hung low and part of you hoped that Max had managed to get away somehow. She was willful and resourceful. But, it had been nearly five days and there had been no sight of the young teen.

“We don’t go back for anyone,” Billy drawls through the cigarette in his mouth, “thems the rules”

“She’s your sister, Billy,” you insist.

“Her mama married my pops and then

they both died, that don’t make us blood,” he grunts.

“Fine,” you huff, disgusted, “I will go back for her then.”

“No you will not,” Creel murmurs from behind you as he enters the small rundown kitchen and both you and Billy shrink back a bit involuntarily.

Creel—Henry Creel, although you don’t dare call him by his first name—is the head of your entire operation. He is a terrifying type of man in that there was something otherworldly about him, as if one day he’d peel his vest away to expose winding gears in his ribcage or angel wings along his back.

Lifetimes ago, Creel had been a society man, his family’s name well respected in West Texas, but there had been some unknown incident that had resulted in the deaths of his parents and sister leaving him as the sole keeper of the Creel name and fortune.

Soon he had started setting up betting houses, prying on gamblers, cheating them out of money and then running them into the ground when they inevitably couldn’t settle their debts.

He was a grifter among men and a king among grifters. Add to that some bootlegging, a bit of robbery, and a touch of murder and Henry Creel ruled over an empire of crime. Of course, he needed folks to do his bidding which is why he came to collect the members that made up his gang.

Creel collected members for his gang carefully, only picking the most talented and they had to be ruthless but not as ruthless as him because he needed his crew to fear him, to obey him.

He turns to you and speaks, slow and measured, “You are my best shot by far and I cannot risk losing you, especially for such an insignificant cause. So, I don’t want to hear another word about this, understand?”

“Yes,” you agree tightly, fists balled tightly at your side.

“Wonderful,” he smiles, long, unfurling and mirthless.

_______________

Creel seemed to want to make sure you didn’t go after Max because the next day he sent you to pick up some packages for him at the boarder. He had emphasized the value of the items and the expectation for everything to be returned to him speedily and in tact. You didn’t bother asking what the parcels possibly contained, it was better that you didn’t know anyway.

The trip had been uneventful enough, the handoff occurring under the cover of pitch black night somewhere in the Rio Grande Valley. There were three packages, long and cylindrical, wrapped in soft leather that clanged when they moved. You strapped them to the sides of your saddle and set off, whispering a quiet thank you to the young woman that had dispatched the goods and riding through the night.

There’s only 50 miles left between yourself and the Creel House when you hear it. A steady gallop coming from behind you, accompanied by the jingle of spurs. You know who it is without having to turn around.

“Excuse me, Miss, but you look familiar,” Steve calls out as he appears at your side.

You ignore him but he continues, “You look like a girl I knew back when I was a youngin’ back home—look just like her, actually. A rancher’s daughter—pretty thing. Last I heard she married some rich fella, left her town and never came back.”

Your jaw clenches.

“You’ve got the wrong girl. I ain’t married,” you hold up a ringless hand for emphasis.

“I can see that,” the deputy next to you muses.

“And I ain’t no rancher’s daughter either,” you add.

Steve chuckles dryly at this, “My mistake then, Miss, must be my mind playing tricks. But y’know who else you look like? One of the Creel gang members that robbed a train out in Wilcox last month.”

“Yeah? Well, you look like the bastard who killed my horse,” you snap back and he falters.

“Apologies for that,” he responds sounding truly ashamed.

You scoff at what little good his apology does you and pull at your reins. He is matching your stride for stride with all the ease in the world, which is making it near impossible to lose him.

You are familiar with this path though, having ridden it dozens of times while working for Creel. You know that while the path may be clear now, there is a patch of brambles coming up that is a difficult maneuver for anyone unfamiliar with it. Anyone who has traversed it before however, would know that there a steep and unseen descent that, if going too quickly, would result in a very painful tumble into a patch of cacti. That was your only chance of escape, you just needed to make sure Steve kept his pace and was distracted enough to not see the trap you were setting.

“I’m gonna have to ask you to surrender, Miss,” he declares, claiming your attention again.

“And I’m gonna have to say no, Deputy Harrington.”

“You can’t do that!” He huffs.

“Says who?”

“Me! The deputy!”

“I’ll make you a deal then,” you call out spotting the briar patch in the short distance, “if you can catch me I’ll go with you willingly. Promise.”

You yank hard at the reigns and dig your heels speeding up before suddenly veering off to the right sharply. Steve had picked up considerable speed and by the time he sees the bramble and cacti it’s far too late. His horse is left struggling for footing and he tumbles downwards into a nest of needles and spines.

“Apologies for that!” You yell over your shoulder before riding off in the opposite direction. You spend the rest of the way back convincing yourself you’re not even a little bit sorry.

_______________

“Steve didn’t show up for his morning chores,” Lottie informed you over breakfast. “You wouldn’t happen to know where’s he’s at, would ya?”

“No! Me? Why would I know?” Your answer spilled out a bit too quickly, the events of the previous night still fresh in your mind and conscious.

Hattie wrinkled her nose, “Because y’all are attached at the hip.”

“Right. Well, I haven’t seen him. Maybe check with Eddie?” You suggested to the excitement and delight of your sisters who were enamored with the slightly older ranch hand who had come to employment a few months back.

The two were practically tripping over themselves to go find him. They returned with Eddie in tow and still no inkling of where the other ranch hand might’ve been.

“Sorry, Miss,” Eddie drawled, “haven’t seen ‘im since last night. Seemed like he had a good night though,” he smirked, “was sighing up a storm. But his boots are gone and a few of his other things too.”

You thanked the three and sent them off to continue the search.

Steve had never missed a day of chores in his life, that itself was vexingly peculiar but, your father was also gone all morning and based off the previous night’s promise, you were inclined to believe they’re together, so you didn’t panic, but you were still worried.

When your father returned later that afternoon alone, you rushed to meet him at the door.

“Daddy, Steve didn’t talk to you about anything today did he?” You asked casually as he laid his boots by the door.

“Naw, haven’t seen him all day,” he looked perplexed, “although the girls tell me he’s missing.”

This was when your worry transformed into panic.

Supper time came and went and Steve was still unaccounted for. The same was true the following morning.

By midday, you had plead with Eddie to let you into their shared room to search for any sign for where he might be. Your mind was overflowing with worry and confusion.

Eddie escorted you and you watched, with pity in his eyes as you riffle through Steve’s things desperation mounting with each overturned blanket or skimmed-through book that led nowhere.

“Wait, what is that?” Eddie pointed at the headboard where it seemed like a thick glossy piece of paper was tucked between the bedpost and the wall.

You wiggled it out and extend the edges open for the two of you to see. It was a poster, the type that hung in saloons and public squares.

Cheyenne Rodeo, was printed along the top in thick lettering along with, Winner Rewarded in Cash Prize.

Underneath that, in smaller print and circled in pencil were a series of dates a week away.

“Shit,” Eddie muttered over you shoulder.

_______________

“Shit,” Billy mutters behind you. “It’s that mutton-punching deputy again.”

You groan and turn to look. Sure enough, coming up around the bend was Deputy Harrington and his trusted Secretary Miss Robin Buckley.

You and Billy are tucked behind a barn and while you’re clearly visible he is unseen.

“I’ll handle this,” you say firmly and Billy is quick to protest but you cut him off, “Billy, I swear to God, if you don’t let me handle this I will shoot your weasel off while you sleep.”

He recoils immediately, “I’ll wait here then.”

“Be ready to make a run for it,” you advise nodding to his horse, Pistol.

You take a moment to breathe deeply and straighten your posture in your saddle before ambling into the dirt road.

“Howdy,” you call out to the pair who are fifty paces away, their figures outlined bright with sunshine.

“Hello!” Robin Buckley greets near cheerful with a boisterous wave, “It’s good to see you again!”

“Don’t you have anything else to do besides following me around?” You question, squinting at Steve.

“Got wind of some stage coat robberies along this road and as the deputy, it is my duty to come and investigate,” he responds haughtily.

You scoff, “Duty?” You gesture at the angry red scratches that litter his body, clear remainders from your previous run in. “Was it your duty to get into a fist fight with a barn cat, Deputy Harrington.”

He reddens, tugging at his collar higher pulling your attention to his appearance. It’s the first time you’ve gotten the chance to take him in fully, head on, without having to flee in the opposite direction.

He’s dressed neatly in a blue buttoned shirt with maroon trousers and a fine set of suede chaps. A tan vest showcases his glinting silver, official badge. His hat and boots look worn but clean. He looks good, neat, well-kept.

A clear contrast to your mismatch, threadbare clothes and your wind beaten face and unkempt hair. No wonder he barely recognized the first time you crossed paths.

His eyes rake over your body, as if he’s read your mind and suddenly you drowning in self-consciousness and struggling to keep yourself from running a hand through your hair.

Twinkling laughter cuts through your tense regard for one another. Miss Buckley seems amused by the exchange.

Steve glares at his partner, “Robin, c’mon.”

She puts her hands up in guiltless surrender. “Sorry but you never mentioned she was funny.”

They divulged into a low argument that you only catch pieces of.

“—said charming not funny, she’s definitely both—“

“—find my suffering amusing—“

“—never tell you anything—“

“—thats fine, Red will tell me—“

Your ears perk at the last statement from Robin.

“Max? You have Max?”

The two exchange an uneasy gaze.

“Miss Mayfield is currently being detained at the county jail for suspected involvement in the Wilcox Train robbery.” Steve declares, inciting your outrage.

“She’s a child, Harrington!”

“She’s a suspect and besides, you can see her soon enough because you are under arrest.”

This elicits an eye roll from you.

“Not this game again,” you grumble.

“This isn’t a game,” he argues and to prove his point, unsheathes his pistol.

You stiffen at the sight but keep firm.

“Deputy Harrington,” you start, tone measured, “you and I both know that Henry Creel will not take kindly to his best markswoman being detained and he is not someone you want to make an enemy of, trust me, you won’t survive it,” you emphasize for his benefit, not your own, “so why don’t we part ways here and maybe you two find something more your speed. Maybe there’s a child nearby cheating at a game of jacks you can arrest and—“

A shot rings out, loud and disorienting, making your ears ring. It takes you a moment to realize that it’s Billy, who had since appeared from behind the barn, that unloaded his gun, not Steve. He hadn’t hit either the deputy or his secretary, however he had managed to spook their horses enough to cause enough commotion and confusion for the two of you to slip away.

“C’mon!” You hear Billy shout, snapping you out of your stupor and with only final glance back, you urge your horse forward leaving Steve in the dust, once again

_______________

The news came, as all terrible news does, on a raining Sunday afternoon.

Up until that day, you had maintained your hope that Steve would come back, protecting it like a tepid flame in a storm.

But all hope was extinguished when your father handed you a torn news article. It only had four words printed on it: Cheyenne Rodeo Claims Casualty. Above was a photograph of a young man rough riding a bull. It was grainy and small but the photo was undeniably him. Steve. That four word title and photograph were all that you were afforded, the only thing that had been ripped out of the Wisconsin Tribune.

“No, no,” you shook your heard frantically, “it can’t have been him. Where’s the rest of the article? I need to see the rest of the article,” you demanded.

Your daddy sighed, grievously, “that’s the only thing Uncle Tony sent me.”

“Steve’s not dead, Daddy! He can’t be!” You shrill, “He’s the best bill rider to ever be.” Steve wasn’t supposed to meet the same end as his father, he was better than that.

“I’ll go to Wisconsin,” your father soothed, “I will find out myself.”

“Can I come with you?” You asked.

“I’m afraid you’ll slow me down, darling and besides it’s far too dangerous. But don’t worry, I’ll do what needs to get done.”

“Will you bring him back?” You pleaded, sounding like a petulant child.

“As long as he wants to come back,” your father warned back, watering the seed of doubt that had been growing in your chest since the morning Steve had disappeared.

Your daddy was back two weeks later. Alone. One look at his apologetic and grievous face and you collapsed onto the soft mud.

Steve was dead. Your father had confirmed it. He hadn’t been able to track down the newspaper but he had seen the certificate and he provided a singular printed death announcement to show you.

Steve was dead.

He had left and died with no explanation or reason. You would never know why he had done what he had, perhaps it was pride or recklessness, no one could say.

He had the privilege of living and dying by his own whims and follies and you were left behind with the messy work of grieving him and putting all the pieces back together.

_______________

“I appreciate what you did back there.” The words come out stilted and uncertain when you say them aloud. You can’t even look at Billy when you speak, instead your eyes face forward, focused on the terrain in front of you instead of the man riding at your side.

You’re not used to thanking Billy and it doesn’t seem like he’s used to being thanked based either.

“Don’t mention it,” he muttered, as he shielded his eyes away. He looks like he wanted to say something else but the words were stuck.

“Out with it,” you urge, “whatever it is you wanna say.”

That was all the permission he needed to ask his totally unabashed question.

“Did you and the deputy fuck?”

“Billy!” You chastise, heat rushing your cheeks.

He shrugged, “You said ‘out with it’. And it just seems like you two know each other… well, is all.”

“We don’t know each other,” you answer hoping he drops this as quickly has Max had months before.

“C’mon darlin’, don’t bullshit me.”

You sigh.

“We may have crossed paths once or twice before.”

“Is that it? If you ask me, there’s some history there. Does he owe you money or something?” He presses, laughing.

“You sure are goddamn stubborn, y’know that?”

He smirks at you, a perfect picture of roguish handsomeness, “I’ve been told, yeah.”

Shaking your head disparagingly, you choose your next words with care,

“We knew each other when we were kids. And kids say things they don’t mean, they make promises they can’t keep and eventually those promises get broken but that doesn’t mean the world ends.”

“Has anyone ever told you that you’re a bit dramatic?”

You laugh, “Max used to say that all the time.”

He joined into your laughter, “Yeah, kid was a pain in the ass but she had a way of keeping you humble.”

It was true. In your deepest moments of self-pity and despair, Max always managed to bring you back to reality in her unique, biting way.

You sober at the thought of her, imprisoned, “You really don’t care that she’s locked up?”

Billy exhales heavily, “it’s all the same to me. I told you we ain’t kin.”

“Bullshit,” it’s your turn to call. “If y’all ain’t kin, why didn’t you just leave her behind when your parents died?”

Billy stiffened. “I was fourteen scared shitless and she wouldn’t leave me alone. If I woulda known how things shook out, I woulda dropped her at some orphanage to keep us from this mess. Maybe she’s better off where she’s at.”

“You don’t truly believe that, do you?”

“I dunno,” his tone darkens, a previously unseen vulnerability on display, “is this the life you would want for your kin? Or yourself for the matter?”

The conversation dies after that.

_______________

You had spent three years trying to mend your grief following Steve’s death.

Nothing quelled your spirit and everywhere you looked, you couldn’t help but be reminded of him.

You stopped riding and shooting. You gave up reading. You would ruin your chances with every suitor that your daddy sent your way by refusing to talk altogether, no matter how much your parents tried to convince you that it was time to declare yourself engaged. You weren’t ready, you kept insisting to your parents despite their attempts to find you a match, perhaps you would never be ready.

It had taken three years for the Steve-shaped wound to finally beginning to scar over, you couldn’t stand another heartbreak. Regardless, one came anyway.

Your father was dying. An illness had set in that was eating him away. In the span of a few months he had become bed-bound and weak. It was just a matter of time, was what the town doctor had told you.

You did your best to be a solid pillar for the rest of your family, braving your father’s bedside care when the others couldn’t stomach it, taking over the ranch’s books and ledgers when your father fell to delirium. Grief was familiar enough that you knew how to manage around it.

The day your father died, it was sunny and bright which seemed like a cruel joke. Your sisters cried while you organized the funeral. Your mother refused to leave her room for three days, finally coming out in time for the service, hair impecable and wearing her best dress.

The funeral was well attended, of course it was. Your father was well known and respected in your community and you recognized everyone that came through the church doors that day in one form or another. Except for one man.

He was tall, imposing. Well dressed, but not showy. He stood in the back, the entire service, and then after that too. He waited until it was just your family left before he approached.

“Hello,” he purred, reaching out to kiss your mother’s hand, “my name is Henry Creel, and I’m here to talk about a debt that needs settling.”

Men were rotten. It was a fact truer than the blue sky. Most rotten men had the shame to be upfront about it, but not your daddy, it turned out.

No, he turned out to be the worst kind of rotten—the kind who hid all his ugly behind a gleaming veneer of false honor and integrity until all the rotten caught up to him. And then, he had the audacity to die and leave the consequences to you to deal with.

Turned out, your seemingly pious father had a penchants for gambling and, according to Creel, he was quite bad at it because he had left an outstanding debt the size of the moon. What made it worse was that he kept pushing payment off in a strange dance the two had: Creel would demand payment, your father would barter for a bit more time, claiming he was waiting for some money he had in the works, the money would inevitably never appear and then they would go back to the start. Henry Creel was angry, he had made clear. And he would be receiving his rightful payment, regardless of your father being six feet under.

“Hand the ranch over to me,” he offered your mama, “and all the debts will be settled.”

“Not a chance,” you challenged, “the ranch is worth more than what my father owes you.”

Creel regarded you for the first time, and you could see the machinations of his brain whirring.

“There has to be another way,” you proposed, trying to sound sure and steady when you felt neither of those things.

“Perhaps,” Creel began, “Perhaps, we could come to a different arrangement. Tell me girl, do you have any skills of note?”

You swallow thickly at the question, unsure what answer to give.

“She can shoot,” Lottie volunteered, “real good, too.”

“And she a fast rider,” Hattie added.

“She went to this fancy finishing school in El Paso, too. They taught her how to be a proper lady and a wife,” Lottie supplied.

“And she’s pretty—“

“Hattie,” you interrupt, “that ain’t a skill.”

“ I know but I couldn’t let Lottie say more than me!”

Creel chuckled, unamused, “ The little one is right, if yielded correctly, beauty could be a skill.”

You blanched. The way he said that paired with his lecherous smile didn’t sit right with you.

In the end, you were given a choice: you could sell the ranch and let your family fall into a sure poverty, or you could work for Creel, doing the rotten work that men like him needed done.

The choice was made and you were once left paying for the sins of another man.

You rode off behind Henry Creel into the unknown night a few hours after your father’s funeral, reminding yourself the entire way that you had made the right choice and hoping you’d be better than your father at being rotten.

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