#see you tomorrow at the creek

[crewofthecreek]

See You Tomorrow At The Creek - Photo Special

Designed by Danny Hynes Painted by Benjamin Anders

From the entire crew... Thank you for supporting and enjoying the series!

[jeremyfuscaldo]

From the time I drew a sketch idea i had for a story idea I had for Craig of the Creek in which Craig and his neighborhood protest Police brutality. It's sad that it's ending but alas-- all good things must come to an end and we must celebrate that it was able to exist during this period of American history. Thank you, @crewofthecreek.

Because Craig of the Creek announced they've finished recording their final episode, I decided to share MFA sketch I made during the last year of my MFA: Craig, his friends, family and communitiy members in a Black Lives Matter March.

[beeclops2]

The FINAL SCENE in the FINAL EPISODE of Craig of the Creek!

[quietfounder]

Well, it's officially over.

Craig of the Creek had a good run, despite the setbacks it faced from the network. As I said before, the show truly captured what it felt like being a kid. It brought out my inner child and made me reflect on aspects of my life. There will never be another show quite like it.

I like how for the finale there wasn't anything big happening. I can barely watch planned series finales because it always feels definite, but with Craig of the Creek we know these characters are still going on adventures we just will no longer be seeing them while still managing to be a sendoff for the show.

Goodbye Craig, Kelsey, and JP. Thanks for the memories.

[lifes-remedy]

Craig Of The Creek [AMV] - Greatest Show On Earth

(c) Aloe Blacc & Pegasus

This isn't goodbye, it's "See You Tomorrow". Craig Of The Creek has ended, but it will always live forever in our hearts.

[ampersandnotdash]

That was such a sweet ending.

[needlefail]

[appleandchip]

I'll see you tomorrow

[one-silly-cart00nist]

Even if the fireworks wither away and we drift apart Never forget the time when we shone together We can't be eternal

I still don't have access to the newest episode but I DO have access to Xdinary Heroes' new album and I'm making it everyone's problem <3

[soslepton]

Just finished Craig of the Creek……….no notes

[wiishopwednesday]

longing for something you can never return to

[ID: a collection of images relating to nostalgia. the first image is a genius screenshot of the lyrics to car seat headrest's "famous prophets (stars)." the screenshot reads "We gotta go back/We gotta go back/We gotta go back/We gotta go back." the second image is the "we got the torture labyrinth tomorrow" meme template, edited to instead say "We got missing what we can never return to tomorrow/What?/We got the beginning of the rest of our lives tomorrow/Ohhhh/Okay." the third image is a discord screenshot, with the user's username and icon cropped out so that only the text is visible, and reads "Duuudeee you missed out on those 7 days where god created earth you are fucked LOL." the fourth image is a screenshot of a piece of text, which reads in bolder font "You can never leave home." underneath it, in normal text, it reads "You take it with you no matter where you go. Home is between your teeth, under your fingernails, in the hair follicles, in your smile, in the ride of your hips, in the passage of your breasts." the fifth image is a screenshot of a post made by tumblr user ryebreadgf, which reads "YOU CAN NEVER GO BACK! YOU CAN NEVER GO BACK! YOU CAN BITE AND SCRATCH AND BEG BUT YOU CAN NEVER GO BACK!" the sixth image is a screenshot of a piece of text that reads, "YOU KILL YOURSELF AND IMMEDIATELY WAKE UP AS A CHILD ON YOUR PARENTS BED. YOU'VE BEEN ASLEEP FOR HALF AN HOUR. THE SUN IS SHINING." the seventh image is a picture of two uneven dark yellow boxed next to each other on a off-white background. the first box reads, in handwriting, "I'm terrified of change." the second box reads, "I'm terrified of staying this way forever." the eighth image is a screenshot of a post made by tumblr user dakotajohnsongf, which reads "women be looking at pictures of their childhood selves and trying to find a way back to them." the ninth image is a screenshot of a post made by tumblr user bestofgentleearth, containing a screenshot from a forum of some kind. a line of text reads "(16 hours ago) butterfly said:" underneath, an indented section of text reads "today, the world looked beautiful again. i'm starting to remember what kept me alive last summer." the tenth image is another tumblr post by user cursedsuggestion, which reads "the friend you miss comes home for good. you never see another mirror. it's summer forever and that terrible thought you keep having finally disappears." the eleventh image is a screenshot of a reddit post, with the original poster's username and icon cropped out so only the text is visible. it reads "I'm not sure how to word this, but I constantly go through this deep sense of loss. I feel like I terribly miss something I love from the bottom of my heart, but I don't know what it is, exactly. Nothing in life satisfies me, nothing makes me content, but l wouldn't say I'm depressed either. There's just this endless search for something, and at times I feel I can catch a glimpse of it - different sceneries pop into my head at times, like of a particular beach at night, and I'm moved to tears. Or I remember a dream and all the feelings that were stirring while I saw that dream, and feel entirely connected to them." the twelfth image is a screenshot of a tumblr post, but the original poster is cropped out so only the text is visible, which reads "wait i wasn't ready. i never finished that game of tag. i still need to learn how to do a cartwheel. my friends and i never finished making that bridge over the creek. i want to go back. can you carry me to bed one last time? and maybe i'll wake up tomorrow in my childhood room with my pink walls and we'll laugh over this dream at breakfast." the thirteenth image is another tumblr screenshot of a post by user heavensghost, which reads "uhhh yh sure u can go back but no one will be waiting for you there."

the fourteenth image is a screenshot of a reddit comment, with the user's information cropped out so that only the text is visible, which reads "HIRAETH (heer-eye-th) 'A deep homesickness; an intense form of longing or nostalgia for a place long gone, or even an unaccountable homesickness for a place you have never visited. A pull on the heart that conveys a distinct feeling of missing something irretrievably lost.'" the fifteenth image is a collection of 3 rows of black boxes, with 3 boxes in each row. the first box has a white, vague form of a human. the second box pictures the human form stretching its arms and legs out. from the third box onward, the human figure starts to dissipate into white dots until it has completely disappeared and only dots remain. the sixteenth image is a tumblr post by user n1ntendos, which reads "I AM HAUNTED BY A PAST I CANNOT GO BACK TO !!!!!!! anyways." the seventeenth image is a screenshot of text that reads "I cling to everything - CDs that skip, rings that turn my fingers green, the dead ends of my hair, old love notes that turn my stomach over and over. And I'm not proud but there are still boxes under my bed. And I'm not proud but my closet is still running out of space. And nostalgia is a fucking waste of time but my heart is full with it. Tell me I won't hold this forever. Tell me there will be a day where I let gloriously go." the eighteenth image is an image of larger text that reads "It's a summer day, and I want to be wanted more than anything else in the world." the nineteenth image is a photograph of a large white dog standing in a dark, flowing river surrounded by a dark forest and green trees. the dog is facing away from the viewer with its mouth open. the dog appears to be glowing, likely due to a lens flare of some kind. the entire picture feels very melancholy and nostalgic. the twentieth image is larger text that reads "Nostalgia is the aching realization that you can't go back again. The longing, no matter how intense, can never be met." the twenty-first image is a screenshot of an instagram dm, with the user's username and icon cropped out so that only the text is visible, and it reads "well the time passes anyway so I have to." the twenty-second image is a screenshot of the spotify lyrics for gerard way's song "action cat." the lyrics read "Hey/Do you miss me?/'Cause I miss you/Do you miss me?/'Cause I miss you/Do you miss me?/'Cause I miss you/Do you miss me?/'Cause I miss you too." the twenty-third image is a screenshot of text that reads "YOUR CHILDHOOD DOG IS ALIVE. YOUR DEAD BEST FRIEND WANTS TO GET COFFEE. YOU HAVE BEEN KIND AND GOOD. THERE IS NOTHING CHASING YOU. YOU CAN SLEEP. WHAT DO YOU DO?" the twenty-fourth image is a continuation of the lyrics from car seat headrest's "famous prophets (stars)" that were pictured in the first image. these lyrics read "We've gotta go back/We've gotta go back/We've gotta go back/(Don't spend too much time on it)." end ID.]

[crewofthecreek]

Craig of the Creek - Final Key Art

Designed & painted by Benjamin Anders Rough design by Ben Levin

The final batch of Craig of the Creek episodes start airing January 4th at 9AM (EST)!

1/4- The Elders of the Creek (1/5 on Max) 1/11- JP’s Bucket List (1/12 on Max) 1/18- The Little Warrior (1/19 on Max) 1/25- See You Tomorrow at the Creek (1/26 on Max)

[whowantshota]

DADDY'S HOME —— kim mingyu

in which your husband comes home late on valentines. but it's okay, he has his ways of making it up to you.

warnings ☆ MATURE CONTENT AHEAD. smut, husband!mingyu, somno, gyu is pussy whipped, kim mingyu x afab!reader

i get off work late today :/ 

c u ltr, ok?

You frown at the texts, irritability rubbing your thumb against your temples. 

This is not the first time your husband has texted you that he’d be late from work, oh of course not. You understand—-sometimes, his schedule is tight and that makes work the temporary number one priority. You obviously mean more to Mingyu than his paycheck.

Or so you thought. You groan, flopping back onto the couch miserably. Mingyu has come late at night at least twice a week for the past month now, so it should be a normal occurrence. At least, if tonight wasn’t Valentine's.

Yes, today was the commercial holiday that pisses about off half the world. And funnily enough, Mingyu had only sworn to you three major things in his life. One, good dick. Two loving you. And three, that he’d never miss Valentine's day. 

While the last one was mostly a long inside joke from before you got married, you’re still glancing worriedly at the clock. 9:30 and you’re still holed up alone in your apartment, a box of chocolates with his name on it set on top of the kitchen table. 

Mingyu hadn’t promised you a dinner date at a restaurant tonight —you both knew that wouldn't fit with his schedule. But he had promised to cook you something romantic, pour you a glass of wine, and then fuck you till you see stars. 

And being very honest, you think you would’ve loved that much more than a night out. Loved it so much, by the way you’re sneaking your hand into your panties. Pushing one, two fingers in; but it's never good enough—it'll never be Mingyu. 

So you quit early, stand up because you're tired of waiting around. He’ll be home tomorrow. You can wash up now, clean up and see him later. It’ll be fine. You can celebrate then, right?

★ . *- .

Mingyu didn’t think he’d be making up Valentines like this. When he thought about it on the way home, he had pictured at dinner out at your favorite restaurant, or flowers and an even bigger gift basket than the ones he had already bought for you. 

But, you didn’t hear the crack of the door, or the creek of the apartment floors when he walked in. You didn’t even hear when the loud thunk! when his work bag hit the floor. Or when he sets down the heart shaped pendant Joshua had picked out on top of a pink gift basket he had planned to give you much earlier.

He realized then, that you would not be waking up for a while. You were tired, basically passed out. He does feel bad for making you wait so long, but shit, he swears his cock never throbbed as hard as it did when he caught the sight of your sleeping figure curled up in bed. Only in a small tee and new pair of panties he got you a couple of weeks ago. Fuck, you look perfect.

So he went, took a shower and got dressed before laying next to you in bed. You murmur something when his arm wraps around you, snuggling into him. But you don’t wake up.

“Pretty,” he mumbles, slowly running his thumb over the skin of your cheek. He pokes you a couple of times with a finger. You look so cute—eyes shut with your mouth partially open. You might’ve been drooling even. 

His hand dips down to your torso, rests on your hip. He was nearly starting to fall asleep too, blinking in a poor attempt to keep himself up too. And right then, you just had to shuffle, pushing back against him. A small noise slips past his lips when the curve of your ass pressed against his clothed, semi-hard cock.

Poor Gyu, stuck in bed while you’re sound asleep. How’s he supposed to take care of that? He feels his cock twitch again, grip on your hip tightening just barely.

It wouldn’t be a problem if he just helped himself, right? Inhaling, his hand moves a bit further, hooking around the bottom of your panties. He prods against the warmth of your entrance pushing a finger in.

Fuck, you’re so wet. He can hear the sound of your slick when he presses another finger inside. It’s almost as if your cunt is begging for him to fuck you. And it’s only right that what his lovely wife and her pretty cunt wants, they get. 

Mingyu pulls his fingers out, sucks on it. Moving slowly, he climbs until he’s hovering over your still figure. There’s a tight feeling in his core, dick hard as pulls the crotch of your panties to the side. He pulls the waistband of his sweats down, groaning when cold air hits his cock. He spreads your legs a little wider, teases himself against your pussy.

Mingyu sees Heaven when the tip slips past your entrance. Swears he could cum on the spot. You’re so warm, so soft. It’s not his fault, you’re the one who lured him into this trap.

He can do a little more than the tip. You haven’t moved yet, still partially twisted one way with your legs spread wide for him. You were just made to take his cock, weren’t you?

He should have been making up Valentines with a picnic date in the park. Should have been thinking about what he’ll cook you for breakfast tomorrow morning, if he’ll deliver it to you with a card and a rose.

Instead, he’s got you trapped under him on the mattress, seemingly so passive and docile as you sleep, not conscious of the fact that he’s got you stuffed with his fat cock. He wonders if you’re dreaming about it now. You’re not necessarily a deep sleeper, so he’s surprised you don’t wake up when he bottoms out.

He doesn’t know what to say, can’t even speak. You feel so good, too good. Cunt wrapped around him, clenching. He’d kiss you if you were awake right now, but you’re not so he’ll settle with what he has. He fucks a soft thrust into you, watching for your reaction. Your breath catches, but you don’t do more than that.

“Perfect. You’re just perfect, baby.” He groans, pulling out until the tip before he forces himself back in. You let out a moan, arching so slightly. Mingyu thumbs your nipple through your shirt, speeding up the pace of his strokes.

He dips his head to press a kiss to your sternum, lips skimming and peppering kisses along your collarbone next. 

You twist just barely under his hold, eyes fluttering open. You’re still coming to, blurry eyes barely making out the sight of Mingyu’s body caging over you. Whining, you bite your down on your lip when you feel the stupidly fat cock slowly fucking into your cunt.

“Hey baby,” Mingyu murmurs, now kissing the side of your neck. Your whimpers get louder, and you move one arm and snake your it over his shoulder. He groans when you clench on him, sucking harder on your skin. “Don’t worry baby, daddy’s home.”

Tiredly, you rub your eyes with your free hand. There’s pleasure building in your stomach rapidly, and you start to force yourself to sink deeper onto his cock. “Gyu– daddy, please.” You cry, fucking back on him. 

You hear him hum in response, but you can’t answer. Not when he’s picking up the pace of his strokes, pushing hard, deep thrusts into your tight cunt. “Yeah baby? Come on, tell daddy what you need.” He teases, pushing your legs back before moving to grope your ass cheeks with his big hands.

Now that you’re awake, Mingyu tightens his grip, fucking into you harder. “Need Daddy to help you cum, hm?” He says, voice playful. As if he wasn’t the one whimpering and fucking himself into your pussy moments ago. 

“Couldn’t help it, you looked so good.” He murmurs. His hips are starting to buck into your sloppily, You mewl, nodding. Pretty sure you might even be drooling but you couldn’t give a fuck. Everything feels too good, and you’ve got no idea what’s going on. Mingyu says something you can’t hear, kisses along your jawline before he presses his lips to yours.

You can barely make out the “Happy Valentines.” he whispers, cumming too hard. Your cunt clenching around his dick, mouth falling open. He wants to spit in it, call you a slut, but he can’t when he feels you pulse around his cock. 

Gyu’s eyes roll back, and he lets out a low hiss, warm cum filling up your cunt. His body flops over yours, sweaty chest pressing to the front of your shirt. You run a hand through his hair, kiss his nape softly. “Someones late,” you joke, voice breathy.

“I know. ‘M sorry.” he says, moving down so that his head lies on your chest. He loves the feeling of you tugging on his hair slightly, ruffling his hair.

He looks up suddenly, disheveled but handsome as ever. “I’ll make it up. Wine and spa?” 

You laugh, seeing the way he pouts. He looks like a giant puppy, cuddled up into you. You love it, love it so much you’re not even remotely bothered by the mess on cum or the fact that he still hasn’t pulled out. Pushing his hair back with a hand, you kiss him on the forehead once more. “Sure. Happy Valentines.”

didn't realize that even tho it's still valentines in my country, it's late in other places :( happy valentines! not beta read

[cherryobx]

turn the radio up - I have so many songs I want to share with you sjsj. but they all seem difficult to write with bc ofc my music taste is basically really emotional songs jsjs. but a classic that i’ll always love is iris by the goo goo dolls !! maybe that could be a cute one with like comfort or something? but idk, you’re the writer hihi. so do with it whatever you want <3

Iris

summary: you go looking for JJ after a big fight with his dad and it ends with a confession of feelings

a/n: it was supposed to be based on that song but i got kinda carried away so this will have to do lol, also, i was too lazy to proofread so let me know if you spot any mistakes

wc: 1.8k

warnings: swearing, angst, mentions of JJ's dad (deserves a warning), happy ending tho

“Have you guys seen JJ?” You barge into the chateau where all of your friends are currently watching a movie on John B’s old and kind of broken TV. Well, everyone except one.

“Weren’t you two supposed to go ‘midnight surfing’ together?” Kiara asks from her spot on the floor. Even if she would’ve fit on the couch, she preferred to sit on the floor as she found it more comfortable.

“We were but he never showed up.” Your voice is full of worry. He never just stands you up like this. He’s late all the time but he always shows up eventually. He’d never do this to you intentionally which is why you’re so worried in the first place.

“He probably just fell asleep,” John B butts in, eyes glued to the TV screen in the corner of the room.

“Yeah, go check his place, see if he’s home,” Kie suggests. “Do you want me to come with you?”

You shake your head. “No, it’s fine. Stay and enjoy your movie. I’ll see you tomorrow.” 

You rush out of there as fast as you arrived, grabbing your bicycle and biking towards JJ’s house. 

JJ doesn’t live very far away so you’re there in a couple of minutes. In fact you can reach everywhere in Kildare in a very short amount of time. It’s a small place. 

Leaving your bike in the driveway, you creep up to the window of his bedroom. You didn’t want to take the risk of knocking on the door and running into JJ’s dad. It’s a small risk since he’s away most of the time but it’s a risk you’re not willing to take.

The light in his room is not on but the light from the moon reveals enough, he’s not there. If JJ’s not in his room he’s not home. It’s as simple as that. 

Your worry increases. If he’s not at the chateau and if he’s not at home, where the hell is he? 

You walk back to where you left your bike and start walking away from there, pushing the bike beside you. You need a second to think. Where could he be?Why didn’t he call? Did something happen? With his dad maybe? It’s very possible. JJ’s dad is not known for his kind heart and sweet words. You suspect that might be the cause because nothing else could make JJ miss hanging out with you. Especially without saying anything.

Where would you go if you were JJ?

You walk and ponder for a while. There are not very many places JJ would go in a time like this. Usually he goes to the chateau or your place because they’re more his home than his actual home ever was.

Then it dawns on you. There’s this place that JJ showed you a couple of months ago. He made you swear not to tell anyone. Even made you pinky swear. He said it’s his secret spot, somewhere he goes when he needs a moment alone and space to think. 

It’s a really beautiful place and it became your favourite spot too. It’s not far from the chateau but it’s hidden enough to be private. There’s a big oak tree near a small creek. When it’s sunny, the sun shines through the leaves and makes the water sparkle and it’s magical. Beautiful, really.

You’re sure that’s where he must be. 

Hopping onto your bike you ride there in a record time. You leave your bike at the side of the road and push through the bushes and trees to reach this secret spot of JJ’s. Well, yours too now.

And there he is. JJ’s sitting on the ground, on the green soft moss, his back leaning against the oak tree. His knees are pulled up to his chest and his hands are resting on them. Even if he hears you approaching, he doesn’t turn his head to look. He just keeps looking ahead.

It’s even more magical in the middle of the night than it is during the day.

You sit down beside him carefully so as not to startle him. “Hey,” you say softly.

His face is covered in various cuts and bruises.

“What are you doing here?” His voice is raspy and devoid of all emotion. He still won’t look at you.

“I came looking for you. You didn’t show at the beach. I was worried.”

“You shouldn’t have.” He throws a rock into the creek and the splash of water sounds so loud in the quiet of the night. 

“What? Why?”

He stays quiet. His lips are pulled between his teeth as if to specifically stop himself from speaking.

“JJ, talk to me.” You place your hand on his.

“Got into it with my dad again. It’s nothing. Just go.” He shrugs your hand off, physically pulling away from you. It hurts because JJ never denies physical touch from you. In fact, he craves it. He initiates it most of the time. His hands are always on you no matter what. It’s one of the things you love about him so much. Among many other things.

“You shouldn’t be alone here.”

“I don’t want you here right now,” he bursts out, finally looking at you. His eyes are red and so full of hurt.

You're taken aback by his words, mouth agape at his outburst. “What?”

“You heard me. I don’t want you here. So just go home. I don’t care.”

“I’m not going anywhere.” Even though his words hurt, you stand your ground and don’t back down. He needs you there. At least, you’d need him in a situation like this, you think.

“Then I’m going.” He stands up and starts to leave. 

You shoot up from the ground and grab his hand to stop him.

“Let go of me.” He stops and stares at your hand gripping his wrist. It must be painful with the way you're digging your nails into his skin but you don’t let go.

“No.”

“Y/N…” he warns, his tone low and angry.

“You’re not going anywhere.”

“Let the fuck go of me.” He’s actually angry now but doesn’t make a move. You know he doesn’t actually want to go.

You’re desperate now. “Why won’t you talk to me? I’m right here JJ.”

“I want to be alone right now.”

“Do you really?”

“Yes.” 

“You’re a fucking liar.”

He seems genuinely taken aback by that. “Excuse me?”

“You fight with your dad all the time. And I get it, it’s hard and I’m sorry. But you never pull away from me like that. Never. I know you like the back of my hand, JJ. There’s something you’re not telling me.”

“It’s none of your fucking business,” he snarls.

“Your problems are my problems, right? Isn’t that what you said to me when I was sick last month and you wouldn’t leave my side? What happened to that, huh?”

There’s a beat of silence where the only things heard are the running water, rustling of leaves and your angry breathing.

He sighs and you feel him relax in your grip but you still won’t let go, scared that he’ll flee as soon as you do. 

“We fought.”

“I know.”

“About you.”

Now you’re genuinely aghast. “What?” You blink in confusion, your grip on his hand loosening.

“He said some stuff I can never say to you and I couldn’t see you after that. I couldn’t bear the thought of facing you after the things he said.”

“What did he say?”

“I won’t tell you.”

“Tell me.”

“No. And don’t fucking argue because I will take those words to grave with me. I’ll make sure of that.”

You nod. Maybe it’s for the best.

“Are you okay?” you ask.

“Am I okay?” he chuckles dryly. “Never been better. I feel like a fucking loser, a failure with an asshole for a dad. And I’m so fucking alone that it physically hurts in here.” He places his hand right over his heart. 

“You’re none of those things, JJ. Not to anyone, not to me.”

“Who’s the fucking liar now?”

“I’m not fucking lying, JJ!” You force him to look into your eyes. “Your dad might be an asshole, a big one at that, but you’re not a failure or a loser. I don’t know how but didn’t turn out like him. You have a future. He threw it away. And you’re not alone. You have us,” you refer to your friends. “And you have me.”

You place your other hand on his hand that’s still on his chest. “You’ll always have me.”

“Not in the way I want. Not in the way I need.”

You furrow your brows in confusion. “What do you mean?”

“You know, I’ve never taken anyone here before.” He looks around his secret little getaway. “You’re the first person I’ve shown it to. The only one I thought it was worth showing to.”

Your eyes remain on his face as he talks, taking in his features. 

“I’ve never wanted to take anyone here before. I didn't understand why I wanted to show you this place so badly. Why it mattered to me if you liked it or not? And then I realized I’m in love with you and I’m absolutely fucked.”

I blink slowly, mouth agape, as I try to process his words. “You’re in love with me?”

“Yeah. And I know it’s stupid and I’m sorry.”

“Why are you apologizing?”

“Because it fucking ruins everything. You’re never gonna wanna speak to me again and things are gonna be so awkward and-”

I interrupt his rambling. “Have you even asked me what I feel?”

“What?”

“You go on this tangent about how your feelings for me are horrible but you don’t even know how I feel. So ask me. Ask me what I feel for you, JJ.”

“What do you feel for me?”

“I feel like I want to hit you, JJ. I’ve been in love with you for like… ever and you didn’t even seem to notice. I’ve made it very clear. Hell, everyone else except you knows that I’m head over heels for your stupid ass.”

“Are you serious?” he asks.

“Of course I’m fucking serious, JJ. You think I’d tell you this for shits and giggles?”

“You-” he wants to say something but seems to think twice and before you know it his lips are on yours. His hands are on the sides of your face, pulling you close. You melt against his body, wrapping your arms around his torso.

“That was for shits and giggles.” He pulls away, completely out of breath.

“Totally,” you say and pull him back against your lips for another kiss.

“But I mean it, JJ,” you state when you finally separate again.

“What?” 

“I’ll always be here for you. Through the bad and through the good. Always. I promise.”

“So do I.”

“You better,” you jokingly threaten and he laughs at that. 

“Do you wanna go to the chateau? The others are watching a movie right now.”

He denies your offer. “No, I’d rather stay here with you for now. If that’s okay?”

“It can be arranged.” You smile up at him and his face lights up.

“Good.”

join my picnic!

[cevansbrat0007]

Hello, Duchess

Summary: Your first encounter with Bounty Hunter, Ari Levinson, goes worse than you ever could've imagined. Takes place directly after the events in New in Town.

Warnings: Mature Themes, Ari Being A Menace, Bickering, Implied Jealousy, Threats of Violence, Cursing, Minors DNI

A/N: Special thanks to my creative consultant, @curls-and-eyeliner. Part my Sweet Renegade Series. Semi-proofread, not beta'd. All mistakes are my own. Likes, comments, and reblogs are always appreciated. Thanks for reading!

Ari’s P.O.V.

“Can’t believe this town actually has a real live bookstore.” Ari muses as he pulls up in front of the tiny, quaint-looking bookstore. “Fuckin’ wild.” Throwing his truck in park he takes a moment to survey the area, making note of the empty lot.

‘Must not do much business.’ He thinks before climbing out of his vehicle and confidently striding toward the door. Hopefully, the lack of an audience would make things flow a hell of a lot faster. Hell, if you were anything like some of the other women in this town, he’d probably just have to smile and flash his baby blues to convince you to spill your guts.

In fact, he was practically banking on it. Because this wasn’t Ari’s first rodeo – not by a long shot. He’d spent a lot of his life in and out of small towns like Bell’s Creek, which was part of the reason he couldn’t wait to bag his latest bounty and put this place, and its people, in his rearview mirror. Ari reaches for the handle on the door, only to frown when he gets a look at the sign hanging in the window that reads: “sorry, we’re closed”. 

Well, that couldn’t be right. 

He could’ve sworn that when he’d pressed Mrs. Turner, the First Lady of Calvary Baptist Church, about your whereabouts she’d said he’d be able to find you at your shop. Something about your preferring to work instead of resting and rejoicing on the Lord’s day. 

While the bounty hunter supposed he could always try back tomorrow, he was keen to check you off his list. Refusing to admit defeat, he decides to try his luck anyway, only to be surprised when the door opens with a tinkling chime of a bail. 

Confused but also now on high alert, Ari takes a tentative step inside as he looks for any sign of life. “Hello?” He calls out, finally allowing the door to swing shut behind him. Instinct has him reaching for his back pocket, checking to make sure he had brought along his firearm.

Just in case.

“Is anybody here?” He tries again, moving further into the shop. The place is clean and well lit, and boasts rack after rack of books. But what’s most impressive is that there doesn’t appear to be a speck of dust anywhere. “Look, I just came by to–”

“We’re closed!” A disembodied voice sounds from the back of the store. 

“Yeah, I saw the sign, ma’am…” He clears his throat. “But I think you forgot to lock the door, so I –”

“That means get out!”

“So much for southern hospitality.” Ari grumbles under his breath as he continues on his mission to track down the owner of the voice. “Ma’am, I just wanna talk. And maybe–ahh shit!” He curses when his hip accidentally connects with a half-full rolling cart, sending several of the heavier books crashing to the ground. “Sorry!” 

“Did you just break something?!” The voice suddenly screeches. “Don’t make me get my taser.”

“There’s no need for that.” Instead of picking them up, the bounty hunter hastily nudges them aside with his foot. “My name is Ari Levinson, and I’m just here to ask you a couple of questions.”

While this isn’t how the man had expected any of this to go, he’s relieved when he sees a familiar face peek at him from around the corner. A face that happened to be even more beautiful than he initially remembered. Even though it had only been a couple of hours since he’d seen you last. 

Damn! It was as if the image of you in that dress taking up space at the other end of the pew was now permanently imprinted into his brain. He'd have to tread lightly here.

Otherwise things could get complicated. Fast.

Your P.O.V

“Pretty sure this is what law enforcement calls trespassing.” You sniff, craning your head around the corner to stare at the man who was taking up entirely too much space in the narrow hallway. Sure said man was easy on the eyes, but you’d be lying if you said you weren’t at least a little concerned about his apparent inability to read. 

“I can assure you that’s not what this is.” The lawman holds up his palms in an effort to placate you. 

And although you try not to stare, it’s impossible to miss just how big they are – how rough they seemed – with just the right amount of callus. You can’t help but wonder what those hands would feel like on your bare flesh. 

“Then what is it?” You ask, struggling to keep your tone short and clipped as you emerge from your hiding place. The last thing you needed was to have this man thinking you were actually attracted to him. 

If anything, you considered yourself to be curious. No harm there, right? 

“As I said, my name is Ari Levinson. I’m a bounty hunter from just outside Rosewell, New Mexico who also occasionally moonlights as a private investigator.” He tells you, jamming his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “I just stopped by to ask you a couple of questions. And while I didn’t necessarily mean to intrude, I figured you might appreciate me taking a more delicate approach on account of your relationship with my person of interest.”

Fucking Martin Westbrook. He’d been the bane of your existence ever since you’d first crossed paths back in high school. 

“I know you’re looking for Martin.” Annoyed by the very nature of the conversation, you pick up a box, hefting it onto your hip so that you can carry it out to the sales floor. “But I’m not quite sure how much help I can be.”

You brush past him, inwardly smiling when he scrambles to get out of your way. It was a subtle reminder that this was your shop. And you absolutely refused to be intimidated by him or anyone else. 

“I’m sure whatever you have to say will be plenty helpful.” He’s quick to reassure you as he turns to follow the path you set. “Provided you’re honest, that is.”

“Did you really just waltz into my shop and call me a liar, Mr. Levinson?” 

“I meant no offense.” Ari coughs, scrubbing a weary hand over his bearded jaw. If you were the overly presumptuous type, you might think you’d just managed to fluster the poor man.

Now feeling extra prickly, you drop the box onto the far counter of your cashwrap before turning to face your unwelcome guest. “As you can see, I have a busy day’s work ahead of me. And I was really keen on doing it by myself.” You gesture at the array of other boxes and racks placed around the store. “So if we could get a move on, I would greatly appreciate it.”  

“Gladly.” He gives a brief look around. “Is there some place maybe where you and I can sit and chat?”

“I’d say here is about as good a place as any.” You tell him as you step behind the counter. Bending down, you snag a bottle of cleaner, along with a couple of rags. If this man insisted on being here, then he would just have to deal with you taking care of your business. “I’m pretty confident in my ability to multitask.”  

Nodding along, Ari pulls out a small notepad and pen from his back pocket. “When was the last time you saw Mr. Westbrook?”

You let out a sigh as you begin to spray down your countertops with your all-purpose cleaner. While you supposed you could’ve gone with something a little more industrial, you were partial to the way this particular brand’s products always smelled. 

“I don’t know.” You shrug as you bask in the scent of rose and cedar. “Maybe three, four weeks ago.” 

“Do you happen to recall the day and time?”

“No. Not really. If I had to ballpark it, I’d guess sometime around the 5th of last month.” You move to the next flat surface, spraying it down just like the last.

“You sure about that?” You try not to let it irk you when you see him take a seat on a nearby step stool out of the corner of your eye. 

“As much as I can be.” 

“And did Mr. Westbrook happen to give you any indication of where he might be headed?”

“Nope.”

He’d been nervous though. That much you did recall. By the time he’d come to you that night, your old friend had been well beyond spooked. 

“Did he give you his reason for leaving?”

“We didn’t…” You trail off, taking a moment to scrub at a particularly stubborn sticky spot that’s marring the wood. “There wasn’t really much time for talking.” You’re so concerned with scrubbing that you miss the way the county hunter’s eyes narrow as he studies you. “He just stopped over to say goodbye.”

And to borrow all the cash you happened to have on hand – to the tune of $500. Enough for a bus ticket and a couple nights in a dirt cheap motel.

“Right.” Ari scoffs, admittedly with a bit more heat than he intends. “Not a lot of time for talking.” He pauses briefly to drag a hand through his shaggy brown locks. “Not sure why I didn’t wanna believe them.” 

“Am I sensing a problem, Mr. Levinson?” You hum, tossing your rag to the side in favor of focusing on the rugs. 

“I guess I’m just having a hard time wrapping my head around the fact that he kept you in the dark about his plans.” He leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “In my experience, most men like Martin tend to have loose lips around the women they’re fuckin’.”

In that moment, it’s almost as if you can feel the air go out of the room. Just who the fuck did this knuckle-dragging, mouth-breather think he was?

“Excuse me?” Those two little words are spoken through clenched teeth. You’re so taken aback by his brazen accusation that you can scarcely breathe, let alone think.    

Ari simply quirks a tawny brow at you, seemingly unaware of the danger he’s just placed himself in. Did he not see how close your hand was to that damned stapler? While it was clear that folks in this town had been running their mouths, they’d apparently neglected to mention that you’d also been the star pitcher for your high school softball team.   

“Apologies if I offended your delicate sensibilities, Duchess. But I’ve never been the type to beat around the bush. Besides…” The smug bastard tucks his pen behind his ear. “You have to know that people in this town like to talk.”

Fire simmers hot in your belly, as you come out from behind the register. It takes less than ten  seconds for you to bridge the distance between yourself and the cocky lawman. While you might’ve been taught never to raise a hand against anyone, this man was sorely testing every last bit of your patience.

“I want to make one thing very, very clear.” You hiss once you’re finally standing toe-to-toe with the handsome interloper who, of course, makes no room to get up himself. “I have never – not even once – slept with Martin Westbrook. He’s a friend, you backwoods jackass. Something you clearly know nothing about.” 

“I get the feeling I struck a nerve.” 

And, judging by the newfound tick in his jaw, so had you. Except you had no way of knowing it was because he’d lost a buddy of his own a little while back. 

“And I think it’s about time you got the hell out of my shop.” His piercing blue eyes fly to yours, letting you know that you’d managed to surprise him with your heated dismissal. 

Good. Because this Ari Levinson fella had officially overstayed his welcome.

“Look, Duchess. I apolo –”

“That’s the second time you’ve called me out of my name, Mr. Levinson. And I’m not sure I appreciate it.” You spit as you take a step backwards with the intention of giving him enough space to stand. “Now, I’ve been nothing but amenable to your rather…invasive questions. But we’re done. So, I’m gonna have to insist that you leave.”

Before you decided he’d make a deserving candidate for death by a thousand paper cuts. 

Your pulse continues to thrum in your ears as you watch him rise to his full height – an impressive 6’4 – so that he now towers over you. Perhaps if you weren’t so angry you’d be a little more tempted to allow your mind to wander a little farther into the realm of fantasy. 

But not now. 

Right now, in this moment, all you wanted was to watch Ari Levinson’s sculpted ass walk right out your front door.  

Nodding, the now quiet bounty hunter begins moving in the direction of the entrance. Neither of you say a word as you make that quick walk. In fact, you don’t speak again until Ari’s hand is on the handle. 

“For what it's worth…” He blows out a weary breath. “This wasn’t how I meant for this to go.” His eyes find yours, as if imploring you to see the truth in them. 

However, instead of responding all you can do is offer up a shrug. Which he, of course, takes as an opportunity to keep going. 

“It’s just…the idea of someone like you getting caught up with a piece of slime like Westbrook…” He pauses long enough to open the door and take a tentative step outside. “I guess it bothered me more than I realized.”

His reluctant admission has your stomach tied up in knots, which prompts you to ask the one question you were almost certain you’d regret later: 

“And just what do you mean by that?” You do your best to seem unruffled as you awkwardly brace yourself against the doorframe.

“All I’m saying is that you’re out of his league.” Feeling even more confused, you watch as Ari’s lips curve in a faint smile. “And if you didn’t know that before, well, now you do.” His head dips politely as he turns to head towards his truck. 

“Guess I’ll see you around, Duchess.” You don’t have to see his face to know that he’s grinning. “Oh, and don’t forget to lock up. Might help with all those unwanted visitors you’ve been havin.”

Ari doesn't need to turn his head to know that you're currently giving him the finger. He can feel it. And all it does it make him smile harder.

END 

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