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nastyaromatherapy · 7 months

Text

"All yours" (18+)

You're left home alone with your stepbrother Ethan.

Tried to make a dark fic for (this) request (sorry if it isnt dark enough😭)

pairing - perv!StepBrother!Ethan Landry x fem!reader

one shot length, 1.7k+ word fic

warnings: dub con, stepcest, corruption kink, I lowkey have a voice kink so ethan talks A LOT, slightly innocent reader

Your mom always told you to cover up around your stepbrother, Ethan. But you always asked her, "why?" He was your brother after all.

So, when your mom and stepdad were out for dinner, and your stepsister was at a study session, you naturally broke the rules. The house was hot- and your parents didn't let you blast the air conditioning.

You walked through the living room where Ethan watched tv wearing spandex, and a thin white tee without a bra. Instantaneous boner for Ethan. He covered it up with a decorative pillow.

"Your mom okay with you wearing that?" He asks you as you wander into the kitchen for a soda. "What does it matter?" You respond. "Care to join me?" He asks, patting the seat next to him on the sofa. You turn to see the tv, it was a horror film. You shook your head profusely.

"Come on, don't be lame," he said, throwing his head back, exposing his adam's apple. "I'll buy you pizza," he bargains. "Fine," you say, plopping your ass onto the cushion. He immediately smirks and slaps the opened can out of your hand, making it spill on the floor.

"Ethan!" You yelled, annoyed. When you bent down to grab the can he slapped your ass hard, probably making a mark. You shoot your head back, "Stop being a perv."

He chuckled to himself as you cleaned the mess, now squatting to prevent further pestering.

You sat with him on the couch and he turned on the movie. He wrapped his arm around your shoulder and you give in to his warm, brotherly touch.

Suddenly on screen there's a jump scare and you jump, accidently rubbing your forearm on his erect cock, making him groan. "Fuck, I'm sorry," you apologized. "You keep doing that!" He says annoyed through gritted teeth.

"What?" You ask confused. "You keep touching me there, like you want me to get hard." You were utterly bewildered. What was he talking about? "Ethan what the fuck are you-" "just shut the fuck up. You're a slut. Admit it."

Truth is you haven't touched him once. Well besides the part with a jump scare. He needed an excuse for him being hard.

"I have nothing to admit," you say. He bites his cheek, looking at the ceiling with an astonished look. "You're really just gonna say that? Okay so if I felt in between your legs right now," he started as he got closer to your ear. "You wouldn't be wet?"

You weren't before, but his words sent shivers down your spine causing you to pool into your spandex. "I won't," you chuckled out, swallowing the lump in your throat. "Uhuh," he sounded, fingers reaching for your dampening crotch.

"Ethan c'mon," you whined. "Let's just watch the movie." He shook his head. "Not till we find out if you're a liar or no." You pulled away from his clutch, which made it easy for him to push you onto your back. You sat up with your elbows, and as you got up you felt a sense of heat in your core.

You look down to see Ethan's fingers, teasing the cloth that covered your pussy. You whimper at his touch and quickly close your legs. You notice his mouth corners start to curl up. He knew you were wet, could feel through your bottoms. But he pretended as if he didn't know.

"'Kay, whatever, let's just watch the damn movie." You got back up into his arms as the movie continued to play. It seems everything just went back to normal.

After awhile, however, Ethan started grazing his fingers on your clit through the fabric of your spandex. You shivered a little when reunited with his touch. He held back a chuckle when he saw your cute reaction, biting your lip to keep composure.

His motions were put together and circular, definitely not accidental. Your breathing grows heavier and your chest heaves. He gets a good look at your perky nipples poking out of your tight tee.

You involuntarily inch your legs wider, giving him more access to your parts. You whimper when he presses down harder against your clit, and grab onto him a little tighter. He groans at your grip.

You start to grind against his hand, humping it, desperately needing more friction. You weren't even thinking, just mindlessly fucking your brother's hand.

Your juices and cum start to seep through your spandex, leaving slimy, sticky residue on your crotch area. When Ethan feels it on his fingers, he removes his hand, making you whine. "Not a slut, huh? As if you didn't just take your stepbrother's hand without hesitation." You look at him, ashamed of yourself, ashamed you'd let him touch you in that way.

"Not gonna answer? That's okay, it's better for bitches to shut up." He grabs you by your waist and pulls you onto his lap. He guides you by your hips on his sweat pant covered boner. "Ethan," you moaned out. "We shouldn't." You said, sounding hesitant. "Oh but we've come so far," he said, reaching under your shirt to grope your breasts which made you gasp. "Be a shame to just stop now."

You felt disgusted at your self, but he was right. He was so hard, and you were so wet. Why stop now?

"I wonder how many men have had the pleasure of being inside you," he inquired as he shut his eyes, just imagining. "J-just my boyfriend," you stuttered out. His eyes shot open. "You've only ever had sex with your boyfriend of 3 months?" You nodded. "And I didn't like it."

He chuckled, bucking his hips into yours. "Oh you're gonna love it with me." You shook your head. "Ethan we really can't, you're my brothe-" he slammed his lips onto yours, forcing your plush ones to meet his chapped, grabbing your head from behind. You restrained at first but in the end you gave in. He was pretty damn good at it.

He pulled away and slipped your top off, being quick to take a breast into his mouth. He looked up at you with dark eyes as he sucked on its bud, making your heat throb. You moaned and continued to grind on his length, hornier than ever. He massaged the lonely one in his hand as he continued to feast on your tit, groaning into it. "Ethan," you moaned out, twisting fingers in his hair.

He pulled off of your puffy nipple, "Fuck, on your knees baby." You got on your knees in front of him and his sweats and boxers dropped to his ankles. His cock sprung out, resting on his lower abdomen. He takes hold of the lower shaft, guiding it towards your mouth. "Ever suck a cock, baby?" You shook your head a no. "It's easy. Just take as much as you can and don't use your teeth." His teaching was painfully vague, but you were desperate to taste him anyways you might've just been a natural.

You opened for him, letting his head slip in. "Fuck," he panted out. You took in about a fourth of his length, tasting every vein and every muscle. God was he tasty. You slowly got the hang of it, being able to take a little more of him. Ethan had his head thrown back in ecstasy, groaning and whining.

He looked at you, and it was a sight. Hair messy, eyes wide and teary with fluttering eyelashes, and of course your tits were hanging out in full view. He went to grip the back of your head, becoming in control of your movements, but he didn't go to deep.

"What do you think our parents would think, hm?" He asked. You just didn't want to think about it. "Plastered on the ground for me so prettily," he says smirking. "Sucking off her brother's cock? God. Fuck," he says breathily, pulling out of your mouth. Your saliva dripped off of his throbbing length.

"Bet they're so proud," he teases, laying out on the couch and putting you on top of him, pulling off your spandex in the process. He reaches down for his cock, lining it up with your entrance. He teases around the sticky area, rubbing his tip all over your folds. "So wet," he whispers to himself.

"Ethan, please," you cry out, pussy aching. "Yeah? Want your brother to fuck you senseless?" He asks and you respond with a pleading nod.

He slides himself in your tight cunt. "Jesus christ," he groans, holding you in place by the hips as he thrusts up into you. Your legs shake and you moan high pitched and pathetically. "So fucking tight. Guess your boyfriend hasn't been stretching you out, huh?" He asks through gritted teeth, closing his eyes whenever he lets out a groan. "Whenever he fucks you again, he's not gonna find any pleasure in it cause i'm gonna leave you so loose," he says, gloating at his size.

"No, no one after this, just you," you whine as tears well in your eyes. "That so, baby? That works, we just gotta sneak better around our parents now. I'm gonna be fucking this pussy every fucking date night." Your walls clench around him, only making him go harder.

He lets go of you and you fall on top of him and whimper. "Fuck yourself on me baby, c'mon." You start riding him impatiently, needing desperately a release. He reaches for your jaw to pull you down into a hard kiss, teeth colliding. "Riding me so good- shit, yeah?" He says into the kiss. You moan into his mouth whenever your clit comes in contact with his groin, only adding more friction.

"You're mine now, yeah? Mine to use whenever I please?" He asks. "Mhm! Yes Ethan oh my god i'm yours," you scream out before you cum over his cock. A trickle of your warm cum coats his cock as you stop your movements in recovery. He gets a hold of your waist once more and thrusts a couple more times, just to get himself over the edge. With a final thrust he buries himself inside, thick cum painting your inner walls. The two of you lay together, huffing, covered in sweat. "All yours, Ethan." You whisper.

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betterbooktitles · 3 months

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"I’m certain I’m not the only millennial who feels we as a nation have taken a dizzying turn when it comes to drugs. I remember a uniformed police officer showing up once a week in 5th Grade (a year before Sex Ed) to explain how to avoid buying and taking drugs. Luckily, I already knew the dangers of the drug trade because I had seen The Usual Suspects. I knew cocaine was a bad thing to buy, sell, or steal, especially from a drug kingpin. The D.A.R.E. program, however, let me know how important it was to say no to anything fun, including alcohol. At least until I understood a little algebra first. We did role-playing exercises where we walked one by one toward the portly police officer and he casually asked if we wanted to hit a mimed joint with him. All we had to do was say “no” and walk to the other side of the room, defying the only rule I knew about improv. We wrote essays about how important it was to preserve our pristine bodies and minds, obviously unsullied since we had yet to take the class teaching us how puberty was going to defile them both. I’m still mad that my friend Nicole’s essay beat mine in a contest, and she got to read hers in front of the whole school all because she had the benefit of an older brother who took too much acid and sat in her room all night talking about why the existence of light proved God was real. My essay about a time I saw my friend’s dad drink a beer and then drive his truck somewhere was also good! We signed pledges to enter the new millennium drug-free. We took the red pencils that said “Friends Don’t Let Friends Do Drugs” and sharpened all of them down to say “Let Friends Do Drugs,” “Friends Do Drugs,” “Do Drugs,” and simply “Drugs.” Despite that little rebellious act, my friends and I spent a solid six months swearing we’d never put any harmful substance into our bodies besides every form of candy available.

Imagine how I feel now as a D.A.R.E. graduate becoming my dad’s drug dealer. It’s less thrilling than I thought it would be. Between my father’s warning not to hang around one specific neighborhood in Cleveland as a kid and nearly every TV show about drugs, I thought I’d always be buying marijuana from an intimidating dude who definitely had a gun and would use it immediately if he thought I was wearing a wire. Instead, I now buy marijuana from a well-lit storefront that looks like the Apple Store. I’ve even gone to a place where a guy with an iPad explained what each available strain would do to me. I buy what sounds good with all the confidence of a man pointing at items on a menu written in a language he can’t read. I put it all in a cardboard box. I place a book on top. I mail the box to my dad from my local post office. I tell myself the book is to hide the contraband crossing state lines, but in truth, the book is what clears my conscience. I want to send my dad something edifying while also sending him the drug that all of America worried would make me unable to read if I tried it once. The unrequested book is a red herring to distract from the vice, like when you were young and didn’t want to buy condoms outright at the store so you cushioned them between a pack of peanut M&Ms and a magazine. Hmm, what else did I need, — right, while I’m here — might as well pick up a few condoms.

Right as marijuana becomes legal in most states, I’m about done with the drug. I’ve had three good times on edibles, and one of them was when I felt nothing and fell asleep at 9:30 PM. I’m flabbergasted that my dad likes edibles. He seems to be a man free of anxiety. Case in point, I once brought him some THC lozenges to our summer holiday in Chautauqua, and around dinner time I told him “You might want to only take half of what I gave you” to which he replied, “I took it hours ago.” He was stoned and no one noticed.

While I’m stuck in my head, stoned or sober, wondering why I didn’t take some acting gig 15 years ago, wondering if I’ll ever make enough money, worrying I’m doing everything wrong including in this moment as I write this sentence, my dad is enjoying himself.

Judith Grisel, the author of Never Enough: The Neuroscience And Experience of Addiction, describes using marijuana as throwing “a bucket of red paint” on your brain. She was approaching the stimulant clinically in terms of how it differed from the laser focus of other drugs (THC reacts with many receptors in the brain, cocaine focuses on one), but now every time I smoke, I think of the red paint metaphor. While other people seem able to crank an entire joint and do insanely complicated stuff like function at their jobs, I am reduced to a gelatinous blob, on top of which my eyes and brain are navigating a dream state that, like many dreams, isn’t all that interesting the next day. Mostly, I get high and can’t decide what I want to watch on TV or what video game I want to play, I realize how hungry I am, and then I fall asleep with cereal still stuck to my teeth. Pot, for me, is like the squid ink hitting the screen in Mario Kart: I can still see where I’m going, but everything gets a little harder to do, and the panicked half-blindness makes everything slightly more chaotically fun."

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Other articles include:

An essay on Claire Dederer's book Monsters and movies made by monsters.

Writing inside a Toyota Service Center.

Writing mistresses.

#writing #essay #essays #lit #literary #funny #lol #drugs #books #humor #reading #better book titles #dan wilbur #bibliophile #pot #d.a.r.e #just say no #comedy

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kaleldobrev · 6 months

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Midnight Confessions

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader

Summary: You and Dean have a "heart-to-heart" conversation on the way to Stanford to pick up Sam

Word Count: 1k

Warnings: Cursing (1x), Fluff

Authors Note: I've been wanting to use this gif for something for such a long time and I finally found a way to use it | Takes place pre-season one | I've been really enjoying writing pre-season one fics lately! | Can be read as a “sequel” to Comfortable? or as it's own one-shot | If you liked this, don’t forget to like & reblog. I really appreciate it! Feedback is always welcome ♡

“Good morning Sweetheart,” Dean said, as he noticed your movements were starting to get a little bit more prominent than they had been previously when you were sleeping.

When you awoke, you were surprised to still be in the exact same spot and position as you were in when you had fallen asleep: your head in Dean's lap, and the soles of your boots pressed up against the passenger side door. "Morning Handsome," you replied back, giving him a soft smile. "How long was I out for?"

"Couple of hours," he said. "You were mumbling quite a bit. What were you dreaming about?"

"You're going to think it's stupid," you said all too quickly, slightly embarrassed of the dream you had just had. It was nothing awful or terrible by any means; it was actually one of the most peaceful dreams you've had in a while, well...at least the one you could actually remember at least. But part of the reason you didn't want to tell your boyfriend about it was because you knew how he felt about the white picket fence life. "I'd rather blow my brains out," he's told you on more than one occasion. But it was a life that you dreamed of — and dreamed of doing with him someday.

"I promise I won't think it's stupid," he told you, trying to be reassuring. He briefly looked at you, flashing you his charming smile that you had loved so much before looking back at the road again.

You sighed, before getting up from your position on his lap; moving so your back was now pressed up against the passenger side door. This way, you could have a better angle when you told him about the dream you just had — a better angle to see the disappointment and judgement from him. Because you knew, despite this promise of his, you knew him all too well, knew that he would just laugh. “I dreamed that me and you lived in one of those blue suburbans and I was baking you an apple pie while you watched a Cowboys game on the tv.”

Silence was Dean’s chosen response. At least he’s not laughing, you thought. But you hated the silence that he was giving you as well, because accompanying that silence, his hands started to grip the wheel, causing his knuckles to turn white. “Oh yeah?” He finally said, his tone coming off rather calmer than you had expected him to sound.

You looked down at your hands as you started twiddling your thumbs, almost embarrassed at the confession you had made. “I know it’s stupid, trust me.”

“It’s not stupid,” he said, briefly meeting your gaze. “It’s just…unrealistic for people like us,” his tone sounding much more disappointed now, like there was a part of him that had wanted that kind of life. And the truth was, there was a part of Dean that had wanted that life. Wanted a suburbia life. And wanted that kind of life to be with you. But he knew it was a life that he could never have. It was simply just out of his reach. “People like us don’t get white picket fences. We get broken bones and near death experiences.”

You knew that Dean was right; how unrealistic this dream of yours was. To others, it was their normal, but to you it was foreign, a fantasy. “You say that like it’s impossible,” you began. “We’re both still young Dean. We can still get out, sanity still in tact.”

“Y/N, hunting is all I’ve ever known. I’ve been on the road with Sammy and my dad since I was four years old,” his voice starting to sound full of hurt, but with a hint of exhaustion. “The only home I’ve ever known was burnt down and it took my mom along with it.”

“But this is your dads fight Dean, not yours,” you said, trying to be very cautious of your wording. “He should have never dragged you into this crusade of his. He should have given you and Sammy a choice in the matter.” When it came to Dean, he wasn’t very forthcoming with his background. You knew the basics about how him and his family had gotten into hunting, but you never pried as you felt like it wasn’t necessarily your place; his mothers death always being a touchy subject with him. Which you understood, as your own mother died in a house fire similar when you were six months old. But the difference was, your father gave you the choice if you wanted to be a hunter or not. A choice you made when you turned 18.

There was silence between the two of you as Dean refused to look at you, as he was too deep in thought. He wanted to scream at you, tell you to mind your own business. Tell you that you should understand. But he knew that there was no point in yelling at you, no point in getting upset, because as much as he hated to admit it…you were right. “You know, growing up, I wanted to be a firefighter,” Dean said, finally breaking the silence. “But I know that’ll never be in the cards for me.”

“It still can be,” you commented. “I think you’d make a pretty great one.”

You saw him grin from your comment briefly before his face turned stoic again. “I gotta find out what killed our moms first.”

“And then you’ll become one?” You asked, still entertaining the idea with him.

He shrugged. “Maybe,” he grinned again. “How about you? What did you want to do?”

“Veterinarian,” you confessed. “Animals are much better than people.”

“I heard you have to be really smart to do that,” he said turning to look at you.

“Well it’s a good thing I was an AP kid in school,” you grinned.

“Fucking nerd,” he said, letting out a small chuckle, before patting your thigh.

“But I’m your nerd,” you smiled.

“You bet your ass you are,” he smiled back, giving you a wink.

Tag List: @roseblue373 @beansproutmafia @queenie32 @deanwanddamons @missy420-0 @octoberclidan @kidwhofixates @crystal555 @hannahisthebanana @seamlessepiphany @jackles010378 @mrsjenniferwinchester @globtrotter28 @deans-spinster-witch @mrlonelycat @syrma-sensei @k-slla @justletmereadfanfic @deans-daydream @frozenhuntress67 If you'd like to be added to a tag list please follow this link

#dean winchester x you #dean winchester x reader #spn #supernatural #spn imagine #supernatural imagine #spn one shot #supernatural one shot #dean x you #dean x reader #reader insert #female reader

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dollfaceksj · 6 months

Note

clover stop playing w me , give it to me (also let me be the mention this time 😭😭😭)

okay!!!

can’t afford love | myg (m) #9

⋆ TAGLIST ⋆

⇠ PREV. ⋆ MASTERLIST ⋆ NEXT ⇢

“you lied to me?”

…

ugh

you did

but only because you were hoping to have sex one more time before your next ovulation

and you were worried he was not gonna be in the mood if you’d told him the truth

you sigh and close the door

you lean your back against the door

with your hands behind your back

and you glance up at him

“i didn’t want you to think i was doing something underhanded. i just need time to… you know. ease my mom into the situation.”

he crosses his arms over his chest and sighs quietly, glancing at the floor for a few seconds before back at you

“i’m sorry. i was gonna tell her soon and i just didn’t want to worry you.”

he sighs and runs a hand through his hair

“i get it but now your mom thinks we’re dating again. what if she thinks i just knocked you up and ditched you?”

he’s 100% right

you should’ve just told him that she didn’t know

you shake your head. “i’ll take full responsibility, yoongi. i swear.”

he drops his hands to his hips and stares up at the ceiling

the view in front of you is exactly what you’d gotten used to seeing whenever you pissed him off or disappointed him

you watch his adam’s apple bob up and down

and ur getting more anxious by the second, fingers fidgeting behind your back

he starts nodding. “okay.”

ugh he puts up with too much of your shit

so swallow your pride NOW!!!

you slowly reach out to his hand, holding it out for him to take

what… are you doing…

he stares at your hand for a few moments

your fingers twitch with the urge to take your hand back and act like you didn’t just do that

but he takes it

allows you to lead him to the dining table

you go back to where jun’s seated in front of the tv

“you hungry, baby?” you coo at jun, squatting down to his level and rubbing his cheeks

he nods. “what eating?”

“we’re eating spaghetti, baby.”

he smiles and claps his hands but continues to play with his toys

you glance over your shoulder to look at yoongi

who’s just staring at you with a frown and crossed arms whilst sitting at the dining table

wait

you used to always attempt to make him laugh or flustered when he was mad at you

maybe you could just…

💡

you turn back to look at jun. “you happy that daddy is here?”

jun nods and glances at his father with a sweet smile

you can tell yoongi can’t help but smile back at his son even though your back is to him

“do you want daddy to come more often?” you ask, playing with the shell of jun’s ear

he nods again but continues to slam his toys into the floor. “mommy too?”

???

is he asking whether you want yoongi to start coming more often too?

well

here goes nothing 😘

you say,

sheepishly,

“hm. i want daddy to come more often too.”

you hear a quick exhale coming from behind you

satisfied, you rise to your feet and glance over your shoulder at yoongi

he’s just staring at you with his tongue rolling against the inside of his cheek

he looks mad still

but you know that type of humor is right up his alley

you start setting the table

“you need help?” he grunts, clearly still mad but wanting to help nonetheless

“no, mr. grumpy. just sit there like a good boy and wait until you get your food.”

ouuuu

it’s silent for a while which makes you look at him

he stares at you for a fat second before shaking his head whilst trying to fight the grin that’s threatening to creep onto his lips

😇

you guess knowing each other like the back of your hands is a gift and a curse

except you lie to yoongi so often and he keeps falling for it

or does he?

maybe he just wants to believe you

….

you start placing the loaded plates

you cut jun’s spaghetti in smaller pieces and hand him a fork

you sit across from yoongi

and he thanks you for the food

and the rest of the dinner

is quiet.

you suppose it’s your own fault.

⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆

jun has seemingly fallen asleep in front of the tv

you put jun to bed while yoongi cleans up

you make it to the kitchen and you’re just in time to watch him finish the dishes

“you didn’t have to do the dishes,” you quietly say as you cross your arms and rub your elbows in comfort

he shrugs his shoulders. “no big deal.”

he tosses the towel over his shoulder and takes a deep breath

“so,” he starts

“so..” you add…..

“i guess i’ll,” he pauses as he looks around. “i’ll go?”

you shrug. “you can but third time’s a charm, no?”

he tilts his head to the side. “you want to have sex when jun’s here?”

“i was joking,” you mumble but then glance at yoongi. “as if you wouldn’t.”

he blinks at you a couple of times and shoves his hands into his pockets. “i mean,” he pauses as he shrugs. “we’ve done it before.”

you start playing with the strings of your bathrobe in a way that is nothing other than teaseful

his eyes drop to the strings in your hand, along the way, his gaze lingers on your cleavage for a bit before shaking his head. “you haven’t changed a bit.”

hmm

you suppose he’s right

after all this time you haven’t changed a bit

you being a tease

you being the cause of his high blood pressure

being sneaky?

a liar?

“was i supposed to?” you lean against the counter and cross your arms

he seemingly thinks about his answer a few moments. “no.”

you nod your head in mock agreement.

he adds, “i married you for a reason.”

oh.

Oh.

okay😂

change the topic before we get emotional xx

you start, “so, won’t you give me what i want?”

he’s confused now. “and that is…?”

“a baby.” you roll your eyes with all the sass you’ve got

he’s even more confused now. “aren’t i already doing that?”

you stare at him for a moment longer. “i meant right now.”

it’s quiet for a while

you’re both just staring at each other

the tv is softly playing in the background

he says, “i thought you said you were joking.”

you nonchalantly shrug your shoulders. “liars tend to lie.”

aurrr….

he stares at you with the ‘what am i gonna do with you?’ look, eyes occasionally dropping down to your body

you know he’s had absolutely enough of you for one lifetime

but you also know he can’t get enough of you

and you can’t either

so you push. “come on, we won’t have another chance until over a month.”

yeah go ahead and blame that

not like you’re extremely horny.

damn ovulation!!!

and you being horny was never really a problem

yoongi and you had always been sexually active

really active

and so, you’d usually solve your problems by having sex

not smart nor healthy but it seemed to work for the both of you

no it didn’t. you’re literally divorced. ???

“besides,” you start, “if we’re lucky we won’t even have to wait until next month.”

‘lucky’

you don’t even want this to end you dirty liar

he throws his head back, staring up at the ceiling. “you’re gonna be the death of me.”

good. then you won’t have to see him with anyone else

what are you saying

yoongi can be with whoever he wants

the days that you had something to say about that are over

and he can be mad about you lying to him all he wants later

right now the priority is having sex while you’re ovulating

so just communicate better after tonight.

just.

one.

last.

time.

“if you die, who’s gonna knock me up?” you ask, pretending to think about it. “i think seokjin’s genes are immaculate. jimin’s too.”

his head shoots back to look at you again

he stares at you with a frown for a few moments before pushing himself off the counter and strutting up to you until the distance between you two is gone

“no one but me is gonna put that goddamn baby in you.”

he stares at you with a deep frown, black feline eyes being the only thing you can see now

“well, i–”

he doesn’t even let you finish your sentence when he wraps his fingers around your wrist and starts dragging you out the kitchen

you can’t help but let out an excited giggle as he pulls you towards your room and closes the door behind you two to minimize the noise making

before you know it, you’re pushed face first onto the bed

you can’t even let out a squeal when his weight is on your body, seated on your ass and chest pressed into your back

he leans over, lips grazing your ear. “you piss me off so much,” he mumbles, hips continuing to grind into the swell of your ass

hm.

“the feeling’s mutual,” you retort

but you both know you’re the one always making his blood boil and not vice versa

“oh, is it? what’s pissing you off? not getting fucked enough?” his lips right next to your ear makes a shiver run up your spine

it’s like he’s inside your head

you merely grunt in response, worried that if he keeps talking to you like this whilst grinding into you is going to have you respond louder than you’d prefer

it doesn’t take long before your silk robe is hiked up to your waist again, exposing your leaking sex to him

and his pants and underwear are ditched

disregarded somewhere on the floor

with a deep exhale, he pushes into you

and you accidentally let a loud noise escape your mouth

he reaches around your face and drapes his fingers over your mouth in order to keep you quiet

pounding into you relentlessly with his hand minimizing your cries

“remember the college days? i fucked you just like this when your family was in the house.” he brings up the events from when you were in college, living at home

always promising each other not to have sex if he came over because he has a dorm room, if u wanted to have sex you could just do it there!!!

but the promises were always broken within an hour of being with each other

hand on top of your mouth as he fucked you silly

proving to you that you’re his and no one else’s

and the feeling is eerily similar right now

too familiar

but you’re too far gone to really think about the effects it will have. you just want him to keep going

and you’re both treating this

like it’s the last time

so what’s the harm?

he continues to thrust, ragged breathing in your ear

his hand shielding your mouth does a good job of keeping you quiet but not perfect

occasional moans and sobs are still too loud

so he plunges his index and middle finger into your mouth

you automatically wrap your lips around his fingers, turning your head to the side to look at him

and his face

is right

next to yours

….

hair sticking to his forehead

lips parted as heavy breaths leave his mouth

his dark eyes scan your face like a predatory animal

committing it all the memory

your brows furrowed

eyes big and doe like

tears pooling in your waterline

lips pouty as they’re wrapped around his fingers

tongue sliding in between his fingers, coating them in your saliva

“fuck,” he whispers as his eyes drop to your lips, how well they wrap around his fingers and then back up to your eyes. “i’m still addicted to how fucking pretty you look with me in your mouth.”

fuck

ah shit

it’s coming

it’s bubbling up the back of your throat

to be continued.

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thebiggerbear · 10 months

Text

The Ghosts Are Coming For You Chapter 1 - Beau Arlen x Reader

Pairing: Beau x Female!Reader; Beau x Female!Detective!Reader

A/N: This is my first foray into the character x reader side of writing. I hope it's okay and you guys like it.

To my lovely beta Em, you rock girl!

Disclaimer: Let me just say up front, I have never worked in law enforcement so I tried to piece together things I’ve seen and heard in true crime documentaries and podcasts alongside with movies/tv and books. I apologize for any inconsistencies, incorrect information, exaggerations, or complete fallacies. Also, this story is going to take place over a few months. Some things might be delayed or appear illogical to not have been thought of before they take place in the timeline, but it’s purely for story purposes.

Tl;dr: I made shit up.

Warnings: death, graphic descriptions of murder, mention of past sexual assaults, mention of dead body, discussion of dead bodies

Word Count: 7065

Dividers by @firefly-graphics

Series Masterlist

Series Taglist: @deans-spinster-witch; @superrey; @fromcaintodean; @stoneyggirl2; @lacilou; @zepskies; @perpetualabsurdity; @deansbbyx; @syrma-sensei; @globetrotter28; @roseblue373; @angelbabyyy99; @hobby27

Beau Taglist: @heartlessdelusions; @nancymcl; @birdiellie; @illicithallways; @muhahaha303

“Got it, Cap. We’re on our way.”

You made your way over to your partner, Jack Darcy, with your brows raised in question as you handed him his coffee. “New case?”

He gave you an appreciative smile. “Yep. Body found on a property over on Missoula. Cap said we need to get our asses over there asap.”

“Okay,” you sighed, opening the passenger door.

Once you and Jack were settled inside the car, he turned a smirk on you after pulling away from the curb. “What’s wrong, Y/L/N? Getting tired of Homicide already?”

You shrugged half-heartedly, keeping your eyes on the road. “Just another day, another body.”

“You’ve only been working this beat for four months. It can’t be that bad.”

It was that bad. Transferring to Montana from New York, you prepared yourself for small city life, thinking things would slow down since the local population you’d be protecting and serving had drastically reduced from over a million to thousands. Boy, had you been wrong.

“Four months and five years,” you corrected. You’d worked your way up to Homicide in Manhattan but once you got there, as good as you were at it, it wasn’t where you wanted to stay. Hence the transfer to Big Sky Country. You had heard Montana was beautiful and not as chaotically complicated as the Big Apple. So far, only one of those things had proven to be true. Something you thought about as you stared out the window at the clear blue sky.

“Yeah, but, you have to admit, things aren’t as crazy here. We’re lucky to get, what, maybe three cases a week?”

“That’s three too many,” you muttered. In the reflection of your window, you saw Jack roll his eyes but he stayed quiet. In the short time you’d been partnered, he already knew to leave things be when you’d get in this type of mood, which seemed to happen every time you got a new case lately.

The truth was that you were tired — tired of the bodies piling up, tired of the horrors you saw that people could inflict on one another. Not to mention you couldn’t even begin to count how many unsolved homicide cases there were, active and cold. Once you landed here, you noticed the differences right away between your former precinct and your new one, resources and budgets being two of them. Your unit was smaller than your previous one and the bureaucratic bullshit that existed everywhere no matter the location in the country was even different in its own ways. You told yourself that you were making a difference, just like you had back in New York, but lately, that mantra wasn’t cutting it. Unbeknownst to Jack or anyone else in the squad, you were starting to wonder if maybe you should pursue a different path in law enforcement, transfer to a different department. Just like your former partner had urged you to do back when he left. Though, what that could be and if it was even possible, you had no idea, but you were thinking about it.

You opened your window slightly, feeling the crisp air hitting you, and it encouraged you to take a deep breath, ignoring the fact that you were barreling towards yet another murder scene, yet another poor soul that had met with a foul end at someone else’s hand.

Jack listed off the details he had been told so far about the case that had been dropped in your laps, making your eyes close in pain and had you grabbing at your necklace under your shirt. Memories flashed through your mind of a crying family, a picture of a smiling young girl in her high school graduation cap and gown with her proudly holding up her diploma, and a sinister smile from an older man in an interrogation room as his eyes hungrily roved over pictures of the crime scene he was accused of creating. You shook your head to clear your mind and took another deep breath of the Montana air in order to assist in dispeling the thoughts, helping you keep your feet in the present you found yourself in and serving as a reminder to leave the past behind as you had promised yourself you would when you moved out here.

As horrible as this new case sounded, you hoped it wouldn’t be connected to the string of murders you and Jack had been investigating since your arrival.

And almost as if your partner had heard your thoughts, he spoke it into existence. “It might not be connected,” he said hopefully, echoing your own wish. “It might be a standalone. Some random.”

“Could be,” you agreed. “But you know as well as I do that it already sounds like the same MO.”

Jack thought over that for a moment. “We won’t know for sure until we get there and take a look around,” he reminded you. He didn’t want it to be connected anymore than you did.

You nodded and decided to leave it for now, knowing he was right. You needed to get there and start your own investigation; that was the only way to know for certain if this victim would be added to the already sizable file you had sitting on your desk back at the station.

As Jack sped you both towards the scene, you offered up a silent prayer to whoever was listening that you wouldn’t need to add this person’s name to your growing list, and that you’d find whoever was responsible. While you were at it, you also prayed for the one thing you asked every single day: for people to stop hurting one another. It might be an impossible thought when there were 8 billion people running around the planet but you still asked nonetheless. If it was answered, you’d be out of a job, yet you would never be so happy to have to look for a new line of work. However, until that prayer was answered or until you made the decision to move on from Homicide, you’d still continue to work the cases and do your best to find answers as well as justice for the victims alongside the loved ones left behind to suffer.

Gripping the pendant on your necklace, you took another deep breath and put your game face on when Jack pulled up to the scene swarming with Helena PD officers and yellow crime scene tape, bordered by curious neighbors and local media. The white sheet instantly caught your eye and you turned to Jack, both of you exchanging a nod before getting out of the car to make your way towards the newest crime scene of your case files list.

You were still inspecting the body when you heard Jack mutter, “Aw, hell.” You glanced up, furrowing your brows in question. He inclined his head towards a Bronco that had just pulled up to the scene.

You turned to see a blonde woman and a man with a Stetson on his head exit the vehicle. The glint of a badge caught your eye from the man’s belt when he moved to close the door. Both he and the woman started glancing around, walking up to one of the officers standing sentry at the surrounding crime scene tape and speaking with him. You exchanged a glance with Jack before returning your attention to the body. “Deputies from the Sheriff’s Department?”

Your precinct had clashed with them before, though clashed was a bit of a strong word. Compared to Manhattan, the two departments played better together in their joint sandbox; still, that didn’t mean there wasn’t the occasional pissing match, especially when there was a possibility of jurisdictions overlapping. You had heard all about it from your coworkers but it rarely ever happened when you and Jack caught a case.

“The sheriff,” Jack clarified, making you gape up at him in surprise before turning to look over the man with the hat and beard again with a more discerning eye.

“He’s…young.” He was definitely not what you expected, and you were even more surprised that he hadn’t driven himself to the scene, idly wondering if his department vehicle was possibly in the shop.

“Youngest they’ve ever had I’ve heard, and a transplant from Texas, too. One of the good ol’ boys.” So, this was the sheriff you’d heard so much about. Who was the blonde then? You watched as the officer the two had been speaking to held up the tape and let them through.

And as if he could read your mind, Jack then added, inclining his head in the blonde’s direction, “That’s his undersheriff, Jenny Hoyt.” You recognized the name. You’d heard of her as well. A bit of a wildcard, that one, and she didn’t play too well with others at times. “She’s a local. Rumor also has it that she gets plenty under the sheriff.” You glared over at your partner. He laughed and threw his hands up. “Hey, I’m just saying that’s the rumor.”

Rolling your eyes, you went back to your job. You were studying the shallow scrapes on the back of the woman’s wrist when you heard Jack snapping his gloves off and saw him get up out of the corner of your eye.

“Sheriff,” he greeted. “Jack Darcy, Homicide.”

The man gave him a nod. “Beau Arlen. So, what do we have here?” You could hear the twang coming through. He was from Texas alright.

“37 year old female victim, yet to be identified. Homeowner found her this morning when he was letting his dog out, called us right away.”

“Coroner get a look at her yet?”

“He’s en route. Detective Y/L/N and I are doing the initial workup, we’ll let him take over when he gets here. You know the drill.”

“Oh, I do.”

“Do we have any idea on motive?” Through your peripherals, you saw the undersheriff take off her sunglasses and hold out her hand for gloves. An officer handed her a pair and you could hear the tell-tale snapping.

“None yet. Appears to be a brutal stabbing and her throat was cut. Attack could have happened overnight, while she was walking or waiting for a ride, we’re not sure yet. It’s really too early to tell on motive, but don’t worry, Sheriff, we got it from here.” Jack was giving them just enough info to address what they were seeing while also politely shooing them away. You were grateful for it. You weren’t done examining the body or the scene just yet.

The sheriff chuckled good-naturedly. “I’m sure you do. We heard the call and we were in the area, so we figured we’d drop by and see if you city boys needed any help.”

You bit your lip to keep the wiseass remark you wanted to make from slipping out of your mouth. Jack was right; he sounded like one of the good ol’ boys. He probably meant well but damn did it irritate you when you heard remarks like that, especially when you were mid-investigation onsite. Neither you nor Jack had time for this. Nevertheless, you swallowed down the retort and instead focused on the scene. You had only been here for four months so you were still new, and if you wanted to make a leap somewhere down the line, you needed to play nice and not cause any waves.

In the corner of your vision, Hoyt had bent down on the opposite side of the body, her fingers inspecting the woman’s neck where the more severe gashes were. “Any initial impression on the actual cause of death?”

Okay, fuck playing nice. You weren’t territorial or easily bothered, but other than Jack, you didn’t remember asking for another partner. Any other case you’d have just rolled your eyes and sat back while she did her own workup, entertained at her thinking she would know better than yours or Jack’s experience in homicide, but not today and definitely not this case. “Well, I’m no M.E. but I’d say the huge knife wound to the heart along with the throat slash are pretty good bets for being the culprit. Though we’d have to rule out strangulation based on the ligature marks on her neck, you know, just to be safe.”

“Strangulation, too? That’s overkill,” Hoyt murmured, clearly not picking up on your sarcasm.

“Hence homicide.” You ignored her glare and went back to doing your job. Jack chuckled under his breath at your smartassery.

“Well, we’ll just get out of your way and let you continue playing Coroner then.”

You shrugged, not caring in the least about her attitude. “That’d be great, thanks.” The sooner she cleared out and let you finish doing your job, the better.

She scoffed. “There’s no need to be so—”

“Hoyt,” the sheriff warned. “Play nice. Let’s try and remember we’re all on the same team here.”

You couldn’t help but smirk when the sheriff pulled on her leash. Undersheriff or not, how dare she push her way into your crime scene and start questioning you?

Jack spoke up then. “Sheriff Arlen, Hoyt, this is my partner, Detective Y/N Y/L/N.”

“Pleasure,” you ground out, still staring down at the marks on the victim’s neck and the pattern of bruising that was starting to become eerily familiar.

“Likewise,” the sheriff replied. Hoyt stayed silent, her narrowed eyes trained on you.

Jack exchanged glances with the man before clearing his throat. “Anyway, Sheriff, as you can see, we’ve got things well in hand. We appreciate you stopping by, though.”

Beau shot him an amiable smile. “Of course. We’ll get out of your hair. Come on, Hoyt, let’s leave them to it.”

Hoyt never broke her gaze away from you as she got to her feet, snapping off her gloves. You smirked wider, shaking your head in amusement.

Jack’s phone started ringing and he grabbed it. “Sorry, gotta take this.” At Beau waving him off, he immediately picked up the call. “Yeah, Cap? Ah, we’re still going over it but—yeah she’s looking at the body right now. Looks like the attack didn’t happen onsite but she’s confirming that right—.”

“She wasn’t attacked here,” you confirmed for him, never taking your eyes off of the scene in front of you.

“Sorry, Cap, one sec. What was that, Y/L/N?”

You slowly lifted your eyes to his. “She wasn’t killed onsite.” You saw Jack’s shoulders slump slightly and any hope he had held onto when taking Anderson’s call immediately go right out of him. You both already knew as much, the signs of a body dump surrounding the scene, but Jack didn’t want to be the bearer of that news to your captain.

Jack told Captain Anderson he’d call him right back and promptly hung up. “You’re sure?” He asked, sounding deflated.

You gave him a nod, glancing at him somewhat sympathetically. “Positive.”

Your partner sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “Shit.”

“What makes you so sure?” Hoyt questioned, her arms crossed and scowl trained on you.

So begins the pissing match. Fighting the urge to roll your eyes, you pointed to the body. “What’s the one thing missing from this scene that should be everywhere?”

Both the blonde and the sheriff quickly scanned the area. “Blood,” the man answered.

“Blood,” you confirmed. “There are no footprints or drag marks around the body. No ID, barefoot, clothes are slightly torn and oversaturated with blood but otherwise holding up well, blood and mud-stained soles of her feet on a well manicured lawn after a dry evening with no blood drops or trails anywhere, decomp is more advanced than it should be if she died last night…she was dumped here.” You then pointed to the shallow cuts you found near the victim’s hands and wrists. “And she fought like hell.” You let your eyes linger on the victim for a moment, shaking your head sadly, and got up with a sigh. “She was tortured for a while before she was killed.”

“But why dump the body here? On some random person’s lawn in the middle of the city where the killer could have easily been seen or caught on camera? Why not leave her somewhere she’d never be found, where they wouldn’t have to risk themselves being seen?”

Your gaze moved over to Jack, both of you already knowing the answer to all of that, and he heaved his own heavy sigh.

“To send a message,” he answered.

“A message? To whom?” Hoyt asked.

Your eyes never leaving Jack’s, you snapped your gloves off, both of you opting not to share anything outside of the department. If Hoyt wanted answers, she could call Anderson and he could field that one. “That’s what we’re going to try to find out. Darcy, let’s start sifting through missing person reports from the last few days to see if any match her description.”

“She could have been held longer than that,” Hoyt piped in.

You turned a glare on her. “No, she couldn’t have.” What was with this blonde? Her boss who outranked her already told her to leave it alone. So why couldn’t she just leave you to your crime scene that you clearly knew more about than she did and just be gone already? One glance at the sheriff studying the two of you intently answered that for you. She was trying to show you up in front of him or show off for him, you weren’t quite sure which.

“What makes you so sure?” Hoyt was outright smirking at you now, content in her attempt to ruffle your feathers.

“As I said, the clothes are in excellent condition despite being soiled and there’s also the state of decomposition of the body. Had she been held longer than the time frame I just mentioned and say, killed yesterday, the state of the clothes would be much worse and they would have started deteriorating sooner. Not to mention her pedicure was not that old. Cuticles are pressed and intact.”

“She could have touched it up herself before she was taken. Or gotten it done right before.”

“Hoyt.” Beau gave her a look when she turned her smirk on him. “Let it go. They’ve got it.”

“That’s alright.” You took a step closer, staring down Hoyt and smirking right back. “Undersheriff Hoyt, if you would like to take over the investigation, by all means.” You waved a hand at the scene in front of you, ignoring Jack’s wide eyes and the motions he made with his hand to get you to rescind that offer. “If you’d like, I can make sure the State is made aware that you are now heading this case.”

“Wait, State’s involved?” The sheriff asked in surprise that then turned dubious.

“They are,” you answered before Jack could, never looking away from the blonde.

“Already?” Hoyt asked, suspicion clear as day on her face.

“Already,” you confirmed, no hesitation. “So shall I call them and tell them that this is now your case?”

Hoyt’s smirk had dropped long ago and the scowl was back in place. She considered you for a moment and then stuck her nose up in the air, downright glaring at you. But she didn’t say a word.

The sheriff took note of yours and Hoyt’s standoff as well as Jack’s anxious expression, then cleared his throat. “Like I said before, we’ll leave you to it.”

You nodded curtly, more than satisfied at the turn of events, and glanced back at Jack. “Call Anderson and update him. We’re looking at another one.”

He gave you a somber nod and moved away to do just that.

You couldn’t resist turning back to Hoyt with a syrupy sweet smile. “Like I said before, a pleasure.” Your smile faded and your eyes burned into hers as you spun on your heel to walk away, knowing that was the end of that little dick measuring contest and who had won. As entertaining as it had all been, you had work to do.

“Hold up a sec,” the man next to her called out.

You took a deep breath and turned, seeing Hoyt and Sheriff Arlen exchanging a glance. The latter locked eyes with you and put his hands on his hips. “You said it was another one. Just how many victims have you had show up with this MO?”

Hoyt arched her brows expectantly at you, waiting for you to answer.

“I’m not at liberty to discuss any ongoing investigations in the Helena Police Department. If you have any questions, you can direct them to my captain. Jack can give you the number.” You then walked away, heading back to the car, more than eager to take a minute for yourself and collect your thoughts under the guise of needing to make a call. You couldn’t believe you and Jack had yet another victim on your hands this soon. The guy you were after didn’t appear to be slowing down at all; if anything, he was picking up his pace, and that worried you.

It shouldn’t have surprised you when the sheriff was suddenly next to you, matching your stride. “Bureaucratic bullshit aside, I need to know, are we dealing with something nasty here?”

“Nastier than someone brutally torturing and killing another person, then dumping the body somewhere she’s sure to be found so another person can be terrorized?”

“Good point. But you know what I mean. I saw you and Dorsey back there, I know there’s something you’re not saying. Are we talking about a serial killer or something else?” He shook his head when you didn’t answer him. “Come on, Detective Y/L/N, tell me what we’re dealing with here.”

You let out a breath and stopped in your tracks, turning to face him. “It’s Darcy. And we are not talking about anything or dealing with anything together. As I said, if you have any questions, you can direct them to—”

“Your Captain, yeah, I got it.” He took a deep breath and his hands were back on his belt, green eyes pleading with you though there was a sharp edge to them. “Listen, if there’s something serious going on in my county, I need to know about it. If the shoe was on the other foot, we’d give you the professional courtesy, you know that.” You had to admit that he had a point, though you weren’t exactly sure how he didn’t already know about the growing threat, from local media coverage to small town folks talking. You may have oversold State’s involvement earlier to get Hoyt off of your backs so you could continue to do your jobs without further interference, but nothing could be further from the truth. Captain Anderson as well as the Chief were doing everything they could to keep things tight and close to the vest. A serial killer on the loose in this area wasn’t exactly unheard of; there had been the Bleeding Heart killer that evaded capture for years until recently. However, your bosses were under the strict impression that people didn’t need to worry about another potential problem, possibly breaking through the front doors of their homes, or abducting and killing their neighbors quite so soon. It would look like they couldn’t get a handle on their city, people would be too scared to leave their homes, people would stop coming through here, and Helena would become known as a haven for serial killers. At least that’s all of the bullshit reasoning you’d heard so far.

You personally disagreed with it all; you had learned first hand back in New York how valuable it could be to the investigation to keep the local population on alert, and how it might help reduce the number of victims. It could even provide a break in the case. Out here, in a close knit community such as this one, well, public awareness was not always viewed the same way hence all the bullshit justifications in keeping it quiet. At least as far as you had seen with this particular string of murders, anyway.

But even with your bosses working hard to keep a lid on things, how had this sheriff or his department not somehow become aware of what was going on right under their very noses?

Your gaze flickered back to the scene, seeing Jack talking with Hoyt, most likely in the same position you were in since the sheriff duo obviously decided to try to divide and conquer, before it landed back on the man in front of you. Seeing the concern layering his brow, his expression determined, you decided the hell with it. You’d made the case to Anderson more than once for things to go public, to lean on State more, to compare notes with other law enforcement such as the Sheriff’s Department to see if there were any other patterns or victims you were unaware of, missing or dead, or maybe even reported attempts at abduction or someone seeing something strange that could help turn the tide. Yet each time, you’d been denied and politely warned to keep your mouth shut, your head down, and to focus on your job. Well, you were already thinking of a change; what could it hurt to let this earnest looking sheriff know what was really going on? Perhaps he’d even do something with the limited information you could give him and jurisdiction squabbles aside, would it really be so bad to have another pair of eyes on the lookout for the same things you were? You didn’t think so. “Bureaucratic bullshit aside, nothing has been officially determined yet. For this case or..any others.”

His eyes tightened. “How many are we looking at so far?”

You bit your lip and turned to look at the officers surrounding the area. “Five.”

“And she’s the sixth?”

“If it’s determined that this fits that MO, then yes.”

“Based on your previous cases, does it?”

You gave him a look, staying silent. He knew you couldn’t answer that outright.

The sheriff let out a sigh and dropped his gaze to the ground. “Span of time?”

“Four in the last four months.” His head snapped up, his mouth hanging open. “That’s since I’ve been here. One was found right before I showed up.”

He nodded and glanced back towards the scene. “Goddamn,” he said under his breath. After a moment, he turned back to you. His features started to relax slightly and the beginning of a smile began to form on his lips. “So, that’s why I haven’t seen you around before. I was wondering. Four months, huh? How’re you liking it so far?”

You glanced back in the direction of the body. “Seriously considering a change of address,” you muttered. “Maybe something tropical. People seem happier near beaches. I’m thinking it’s gotta be the sand, bikinis, and free-flowing booze. That or people are just too exhausted from being in the sun all day. I think that’d suit me just fine.”

A warm laugh escaped him as his bright smile graced you, reaching up to his eyes this time. It made you nearly smile in response, it was that infectious. He was certainly attractive and he had the whole sexy cowboy sheriff vibe working for him, complete with hat. For a split second, you wondered what could have happened had you met him at one of the local bars some night where your introduction to one another would have been vastly different. You tried to picture yourself line dancing at some country bar he might frequent but couldn’t. You’d tried it once but never really cared for it. You were more of a swayer and every so often (with a certain amount of liquid courage or lust coursing through your veins) a grinder. Instead, you might have grabbed his hat off of his head to get his attention and plopped it on yours, uttering the cheesy line of “Save a horse, ride a cowboy” or something to keep his focus squarely on you for the rest of the night. Before you could get too carried away in your thoughts, seeing an officer moving past you reminded you of why you were here. You needed to concentrate and get your head back into the game.

“Oh, come on,” he urged, thankfully completely oblivious to what you had been thinking. “It’s only been four months! It took me at least six to settle in when I moved up here. You’ve got to give it at least that. I do copy you on the beaches thing, though. Definitely a slower pace.”

“Right? Though it’s gotta be a real pain in the ass to collect evidence in between tourists and the saltwater. You know what? Maybe I should just change careers. I’ll become a lifeguard. Bring some Baywatch to the Bahamas.” Oh no, that sounded flirty, hadn’t it? You hadn’t meant for it to sound flirty.

His eyes lit up slightly but his amiable smile stayed the same. “I have no doubt in my mind you could.”

You nearly smirked but forced yourself to look disappointed. “But then again, there are sharks in the Bahamas, so maybe my Baywatch lifeguard audition will have to wait until, say, never.”

“Well, that’s a crying shame. Just when I thought I’d finally make the plane ride to the Bahamas.” His voice had dipped in register and his gaze burned into you, making you almost shiver. It was very obvious what he was thinking and you were thankful you were surrounded by several officers, your partner included, because there was no telling what you’d do if it was just the two of you and he looked at you like that. You had a very good idea of what he’d do and you found that you didn’t mind all that much, if you two weren’t on the job and he wasn’t already involved with someone else.

You forced yourself to focus, holding a hand up. “Alright, slow your roll there, Hasselhoff. You want to swim with the sharks, you go right ahead. Me? I’m staying on dry land, thank you very much.” He laughed again and you rolled your eyes, crossing your arms, thankful that you had been able to change the course of that conversation. “So, six months, huh? From Texas I take it?”

His smile got brighter if that were even possible. “The accent that obvious?”

“The accent, the hat, the whole cowboy vibe you’ve got going on.” You gestured to him with a hand.

“You got something against cowboys?” He teased.

“Nope. It’s just that we don’t see too many of those in the Big Apple.”

“New York, huh? Should’ve known. You’ve got the whole SVU vibe working for you.”

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes again. Like you hadn’t heard that one before. “Not every female detective from Manhattan is named Olivia Benson and not all of us work out of SVU.”

He held his hands up, still smiling. “I didn’t mean anything by it, darlin’.” At your raised brows, he chuckled. “Just a friendly term where I come from. I didn’t mean anything by that either.”

“Uh huh.” You spun on your heel and continued your trek to the car, nodding your thanks at the officer who lifted the crime scene tape for you to pass under. The sheriff continued to dog your steps which made you smile discreetly.

“So, tell me, how do people on that tiny island live all squished together like that?” He wondered.

“I don’t know, one and a half million people somehow manage to figure it out every day.”

“One and a half million? Son of a bitch.” You had just reached the vehicle when he turned to you. “Who am I kidding? I come from Houston and we have even more people there. Except we’re spread out and have more room to roam.” He chuckled, expecting you to find that as funny as he did.

You gave him a polite smile and opened your door, waiting. “Was there anything else you needed, Sheriff?”

“Please, call me Beau. And yeah, there was one more thing.” You arched a brow up at him and his grin melted into a different smile altogether, making something flip inside your stomach. Uh oh. You were back in that murky territory from a moment ago. “I was wondering if you’d let me take you to dinner.”

Your gaze snapped to where Jack was currently talking on his phone. Hoyt wasn’t too far from him, watching your every move, you swung your head back to find the sheriff staring at you expectantly, the same smile from before sitting on his bearded face. You decided not to beat around the bush. “I was under the impression that you were…otherwise engaged.”

His brows began to furrow in confusion. “How do you mean?”

You inclined your head back in Hoyt’s direction. He quickly glanced over and then back to you. “What, Hoyt? No, we’re just partners. She’s my undersheriff and a friend, nothing more.” You shot him a look and he laughed. “I’m serious, there’s nothing going on. I’m free as a bird. So, how about that date?”

You bit your lip in thought, trying to think of the best way to politely turn him down. You really, really wanted to accept, to see where this might go, even if it was just a one time thing, but the way Hoyt was eyeing him and you right now, there was bound to be trouble there, even if it was only a simple dinner between you and the cowboy. Which, as Beau had said before, was a crying shame. He seemed nice enough but you really couldn’t afford to make waves, not if you planned to secure another transfer after such a short stint up here. You would have to politely decline his invitation. “I’m probably going to be working late, especially with this new case. Thank you for the offer, though.”

He tilted his head, smiling wider at you. “Come on, you gotta eat sometime. Besides, what kind of sheriff would I be if I didn’t show a newcomer such as yourself some of the great things Helena has to offer? Like the steakhouse I’d like to take you to. They have the best ribeye in the whole county, hand to God.”

You could see that he expected that to do the trick. So, you turned the tables on him. You closed the door and crossed your arms. “Texas, didn’t you already pump me for information about this case? I gave you what I could. There’s nothing else I can give you.”

His eyes flashed at your last statement. Uh oh. “I doubt that’s true but be that as it may, I’m not asking you to dinner to talk about work. As a matter of fact, I have a strict policy during dinner: no work-talk. So, what do you say, darlin’? Let me take you out?”

You glared up at him. “Will you drop the darlin’?”

“If you really want me to,” he agreed.

“I really want you to.”

“Consider it done. May I call you by your first name then?”

“I’d prefer it to darlin’.”

“Alright. Y/N. Now that we’ve got that settled, I’ll pick you up at your place, say around…7?”

Shit, were you really going to do this? You could not afford to make waves. There wasn’t really anything stopping you. You two worked for different departments, precincts even. He wasn’t your superior and while he outranked you, you weren’t working with him. He had addressed the Hoyt issue head on, assuring you they weren’t involved. You two were grown adults, able to just have a nice meal together. Besides, you hadn’t had a good steak in a while and what could it hurt? Although, you couldn’t have him come to your house because you were pretty sure you’d never make it past the porch, not with the way he had been eyeing you up earlier, not with how often your thoughts headed in that direction.

You noticed him lick his lips as he waited for your answer. It easily could have been a nervous tic, thinking you’d might turn him down, but your brain zoned in on the action. His smile was warm, infectious, and you hadn’t terribly minded your little banter before. You could probably have a somewhat decent time and get along fairly well. Before you knew it, you were agreeing to let him take you to dinner. “Make it 7:30, outside the precinct. I’ll be done around then.”

When he grinned happily, you felt that same flip-type feeling from earlier. Maybe dinner with someone other than Jack and something other than takeout on the fly wouldn’t be so bad. It’s not like you were promising the man anything other than a meal filled with conversation. And he had been right, you could eat, though you’d never admit it to him. It’s not like you were jumping right into bed with him…hence why you asked him to pick you up at the precinct.

“7:30 it is. I’ll see you then, Y/N.” He flashed you another smile and turned to walk away.

“See you then, Texas.”

He tipped his hat in your direction, his eyes taking forever to leave you, and headed back over to the scowling blonde. Figures — the first guy to officially ask you out since your move here would be within the vicinity of a crime scene, not to mention the whole little flirtation moment. That was just your luck, wasn’t it? A part of you even wondered if you were normal for accepting his offer at said scene, not knowing a thing about him or once thinking it odd that he chose this to be his moment after seeing a dead woman who had been stabbed repeatedly by some sick bastard.

You shook your head, unsure of what the hell you had just gotten yourself into, thinking your whole life was a weird mess, so what was one more strange thing? You sat inside the passenger seat of the car, laying your head back against the headrest as thoughts of this case ran through your mind.

Another one. How the hell was that even possible? There were now six victims with the same MO. Knife to the chest, ending in the heart, after their throat had been slashed but before they completely bled out. And this was after they’d been tortured for hours, days even, where they’d been repeatedly strangled to the point of unconsciousness and then brought back so more horrors and pain could be inflicted on them. It reminded you of a series of homicides you’d worked back in Manhattan, with an eerily similar MO; the difference was that those victims were sexually assaulted, asphyxiated with a plastic bag over their heads repeatedly, and their bodies were dropped off at different anchor points, not some random location where the body was guaranteed to be discovered within a short amount of time and it would put the killer at risk to be easily spotted by passersby or security cameras. Not to mention, you had closed the Manhattan case; the bastard was still sitting in jail — you’d checked.

You slipped your necklace from underneath your shirt and began to move the pendant back and forth as you thought it over some more. The victims here in Montana matched one description: a woman in her mid to late 30’s, usually turned out to be single or at the least casually dating, nothing serious. She always had Y/H/C hair, working hard in her chosen career or job, and she appeared to have been a decent dresser while doing the upkeep required for her fingernails and toenails. That was really what prompted your hunch about the pedicure that you couldn’t tell Hoyt, and let’s face it, wouldn’t tell her unless you were forced to. The territorial blonde had definitely left a bitter taste in your mouth.

But the New York victims had been women of various sizes, races, ages, and stations in life. One was a sex worker, one was a single mom, one was a lawyer from the Upper East side, one had been a late teen fresh out of high school… You closed your eyes in pain, gripping your pendant tightly. That had been one of your toughest cases to date. You didn’t like to think about it but that had been the one to light a fire deep within you to do whatever it took to hunt down the sick bastard who had done that to her. You worked tirelessly with your partner, trying to fit the pieces together, and run down the very little clues you had. In the end, it had all paid off. You made sure you were present that day in court for that son of a bitch’s sentencing.

You opened your eyes and thought back to your current case. Every detail of this scene fit the details of previous scenes to a tee, minus the location where the body had been dumped. But the why of the dumping seemed to fit into a pattern. Something kept prodding at you, pulling at your instincts. Something was off here. You knew you were dealing with a serial but something kept pushing at you about Manhattan… It had to be the similarities. It was only natural for you to recall your experience when you saw similar MO’s in trying to figure out who was behind the killing and what their motivation was. Yes, that was it.

You were interrupted in your reverie by your cell phone ringing. You answered it on the first ring. “Yeah?”

“I need you up here,” Jack requested.

“On my way.” You hung up and took a deep breath, slipping your necklace back under your shirt, and stepped out of the car, intent on heading back up to where your partner was. You both needed to figure this out and fast. You knew this woman was about to be added to the list of murder victims that had been the work of a serial you were currently tracking down, and based on how frequently he was doing this, he was only just getting started.

#beau arlen x reader #beau arlen x you #beau arlen x y/n #big sky fanfiction #beau arlen #beau x reader #beau x female reader #beau x you #beau x y/n #beau arlen fanfiction #the ghosts are coming for you chapter 1 #thebiggerbear

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studentinpursuitofclouds · 9 months

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Hey 👋 Of you are in the mood for some headcanons, how about the sdv villagers reacting to a farmer that's constantly with at least 3 Junimos? The idea came to me after seeing the Easter egg in the menu. Maybe the Farmer telling them that the Junimos were the ones who fixed the community center and everything else? Thank you! Have a nice day! :D

Heya 👋 sorry for a long reply. Hope you like it and thanka fo asking ❤️

This post is long, be aware:

The trip to visit Mullner was unusual at the very least in that Junimos stealthily got into Farmer's backpack himself. All Farmer wanted to do was wish Alex a happy birthday, but the confused athlete doesn't understand why apples are rolling from his room into the living room. No loud surprised voice in the living room either, as George didn't even pay attention to Junimos, engrossed in watching his TV program. And only Grandma Evelyn almost dropped the bag of flour in the kitchen, whispering to herself, "So Farmer's Grandpa was telling her the truth..." She'd thought her childhood friend was joking about these tales, but now... Oh, dear.

Elliott saw some apples fall from the Farmer's basket, which they were holding in their hands, and he kindly wanted to offer to help the Farmer pick them up. But no sooner had the red-haired writer opened his mouth than he saw those very apples Rolling toward the forest. And if there was a slope, he would understand, but this? "Oh, that's Junimos." Pardon, who?

"Heh, funny creatures" If the Farmer thinks that after meeting with merpeople, mermaids, and giant sea monsters that almost destroyed Willy's boat and himself, he will be surprised by the harmless and cheerful forest creatures, then think again. For old sailor it's another story that you can tell the youth!

Pierre was unable to utter anything when he was buying whole cases of apples from the Farmer to resell, and from one case 5 apples with blinking eyes rolled out and disappeared from the store. Well, at least he didn't need to pay for those apples. What?

Caroline show a more emotional reaction than her husband, when she saw Junimo. What are these magical creatures? Magic? Was she supposed to go to him again to find out if these creatures were dangerous or not? To whom? Ah nothing, it doesn't matter.

Wow! What smooth movements these robots have! They look like normal cute toys. M? Not toys? Don't say that, Maru recognizes a well-made robot everywhere. What interesting models, she already wants to ask who designed them, and- ?????? Did she get it right, they disappeared? "Told ya they weren't robots." Maru was speechless.

In the carpentry shop, coughing and smoke is everywhere. Of course there is! Robin is once again berating Demetrius for almost burning down the lab again because of her beloved husband's experiments. It's all smoke and smells like burning! What if Sabby and Maru were in danger of suffocating? She told them to be careful! Oh, hey Farmer, now's not a good tim- are those apples with eyes on their shoulders?... Yep, looks like they've both had smoke inhalation, so the first hallucinations are showing up. Ok, everybody outside, now!

Like a noble dog, which courageously endures loud and pulling the tail capricious children, Marlon stands and also endures "children" in the form of forest spirits, who jump on his head, pull his cloak or play around him. And he will look at the Farmer judgmentally with that look of "go and quiet your children". Marlon has seen a lot of monsters and wonders in his life, so he's not too surprised by Junimos.

Gil is not bothered by apple-like spirits, because like his one-eyed friend, he has seen a lot. So he will go on sleeping, ignoring the noise and clamor. Seriously, even if a storm formed within the Guild, Gil wouldn't be woken up by it.

Well, Rasmodius is glad that the Farmer was able to forge such a strong connection with the forest spirits (even better than himself, unbelievable). He is still studying Junimo, so the wizard can ask the Farmer to bring the spirits here so he can ask Junimos some questions (better than forcibly teleport them to his tower).

Yeah yeah, of course... The tiny magic people did it all. And the next day, they'll clean up Pam's trailer and leave her a full can of cold beer. Kiddo, the hell are you telling her this crap? What, you think she was born yesterday to believe in these stupid fairy tales?

Nothing unusual, just Kent coming home with Jodi after grocery shopping at Pierre's. Nothing unusual, just a Farmer walking towards them who greeted them in a friendly manner. Nothing unusual, just 5 strange apples with eyes, arms and legs following the Farmer in formation. Nothing unusual... Even the fact that Jodi fainted and now Kent is bringing his dearest wife to her senses, he is no longer surprised by anything. Just 🗿 face.

Oh, what's that? The Farmer has something to show her? Okay, Penny will take her mind off the book for a minute. Is that an apple? For her? Thank you so much Farmer ❤️ They're so kind to the young teacher, she just got hungry and... Wait, why are there eyes glued on the apple?... They're blinked!? *Gasp!* Well done Farmer, the poor teacher is now lying passed out on the grass.

Harvey.exe stopped working. When Farmer told him about Junimo, the doctor first thought that Farmer had a sunstroke and was about to give them first aid. But when the apple-like creatures came out of Farmer's backpack and began to study Harvey with curiosity, the stroke had already hit him. Where are his sedatives?

It seems that Shane had gotten so used to Farmer's oddities all along that he wasn't confused at all about them squatting outside Marnie's Ranch and talking to.... apples. It's just another Tuesday for him now.

No one believed Jas and Vincent when they told the adults that they had seen the Farmer in company with moving magic apples. They, like little detectives, will now follow the unusual Farmer until they learn their secret (or until kid's parents call them home because it's dinner time!).

But the one who gets to investigate late into the night is Abigail, who believed the kids' stories and took Sam and Sebastian along as partners on a scouting mission. What will be their surprise when they follow the Farmer to the woods and see small creatures emerge from the thick foliage of a bush. Gnomes, dwarfs? What are they? Abigail will scare the Junimos away with her excitement and they will hide in the same bush. The Farmer, too, almost dies of fright and will want to climb into the bush themselves, but Abby, Sam and Sebby won't let them. Now begins the interrogation and initiation of the famous A.S.S. trio into the secrets of the no less famous Farmer.

Lewis was sincerely grateful that the Farmer, the hero of Stardew Valley, was able to restore the Community Center and return Pelican Town to its former glory. But he still doesn't understand why the Farmer doesn't want to say how they were able to restore the center, always hiding behind the fact that "some keepers of the forest helped them." Making up some fairy tales, just like their Grandpa ...

One summer morning, Leah met Farmer when she return from the lake to her home. They were carrying a woven basket of nature's gifts: mushrooms, berries, and... Oh, apples! Leah thought that the fruit of the wild forest apple trees would not ripen until early fall. Can the Farmer tell where they picked the apples? Oh, not apples? Then what are-? Huh, little eyes and little hands... Strange, she thought she was processing mushrooms when she ate them at breakfast, why would she start hallucinating... She'll be shocked when Farmer tells her she's not imagining it. Indeed, the Valley is truly full of secrets.....

Marnie warned the Farmer not to go to that strange tower. She warned, but what do we have now? Farmer with small creatures. She hope they are at least kind???? Maybe Because if they're not kind, and if they hurt Jas, then oh boy, Farmer is screwed.

Clint nearly nailed the poor Junimos with a hammer, mistaking them for rats in his blacksmith's shop. Couldn't you tell they were strange woodland creatures and not rats?! What? No, he's not surprised by the apple-like keepers of the forest, but he won't tolerate rats in his house. Clint isn't afraid of them, he just can't stand rodents.

Ah, dear friend, and in the company of Junimo! That's perfect. Linus was just telling Leo about the various spirits of the worlds, and the conversation turned to the keepers of the forest, Junimos. And now he can even introduce them to Leo. Although, Leo forgot about his mentor's lecture and started playing with Junimo together with the parrots. Linus sighed and decided that his student really needed some break from studying.

"Ewww! Rats!" Haley screamed at the whole house and cowardly climbed onto the sofa, mistaking the frightened Junimos for a horde of rodents. Haley dear, rodents can't be green, red, and apple-shaped. Her sister Emily, to be honest, would rather have rats than...what is this exactly? She, not realizing that what was near the feet of the Farmer, took her sign of Yoba, and said something (drive away evil spirits). Emily, not you too... They are harmless creatures!

Gus's heart almost jumped out of his chest when he took a knife and wanted to cut an apple for dessert in the Saloon, and the apple.... squeaked and rolled across the bar towards the Farmer. So... what do toy expect from Gus? Serve customers, even apple-like customers? What do they eat?

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