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gurneetsadhra23 · 2 months ago

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𝐋𝐞𝐟𝐭 𝐀 𝐌𝐚𝐫𝐤 - 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟏𝟐

PAIRING : dean winchester x original female character

STORY SUMMARY : in series masterlist

CHAPTER WARNINGS : age-gap. pining. angst. language. mentions of possessed sam. jealous!ofc. sexual innuendos.

A/N : ik i can’t be the only one who enjoyed this scene 😏

Maricela's POV

It had been a few days since we arrived at the bunker. I was back in my room, catching up on sleep after staying up to help Kevin with research, when Dean nudged my foot. With a groan, I turn in bed, trying to ignore him. His large hand runs up my leg, forcing my eyes open. He stops at my hip, squeezing lightly before shaking me.

"Rise and shine, princess," His deep voice cuts through the silent room.

"I don't wanna."

"Fine, stay here. We'll be at Jody's. On a case."

He walks toward the door, and I quickly sit up. "Wait!"

He pivots with a smirk, "I knew you couldn't resist. Now, get dressed. We leave in 20."

As soon as the hunter leaves, I toss the covers off my warm body. Regret instantly hits as the cool air blows over my skin and the cold, cement ground nips at my socked feet. With much haste, I change and pack my weekend bag, excited to get to work and, as a bonus, see Jody again. After flinging the strap over my shoulder, I head to the Command Room and join the boys. Sam leads the walk up the spiral staircase, and Dean leans close, speaking at a level only meant for me.

"He isn't doing so well."

"What makes you think that?"

"He fell asleep eating his cereal this morning. And he said, "I feel like my battery can't recharge.""

"But the whole point of—" I give him a knowing look in substitution of Zeke's name before continuing. "Is so he could heal him."

"I know—"

"What are you two whispering about back there?" Sam asks at the top of the stairs.

"Oh, you know us, just arguing about something stupid." I lie.

His eyebrows knit together, but he seems to have bought it as he opens the bunker door. I sigh in relief and follow behind.

*Hartford, South Dakota*

After changing into our costumes at a nearby motel, we pull into the parking lot of the diner where the kidnapping occurred. Jody waits outside her government-owned pickup truck with a smile on her face. Once Dean parks, she walks toward Baby's trunk, case files in hand. We exit the Impala and greet our friend.

"Sheriff," Dean calls before pulling her into a hug. "Laying off the blind dates, I hope."

We chuckle as she returns the hug before pulling away, replying, "Yeah. You bite your tongue, boy."

"Hey, hon," Jody pulls me into a warm embrace and asks, "Dean let you tag along?"

"Dean's letting me hunt with them now."

"It's about time. I was worried you were still doing it alone."

The sheriff finally greets Sam, and he bends down to return her hug. "So?" He questions after their embrace.

"So. Car was right over there, ass over teakettle." A man with a large broom sweeps the glass shards from the vehicle's windows. She hands each of us a file as she continues. "Now, normally, if somebody would tell me that one guy lifted an S.U.V., I'd tell him to take a flying leap, but after what I've seen..."

"Nothing's impossible," I finish.

"Uh-huh."

Dean sprawls a few papers on the trunk. "And this matches up with the other missing how?"

"Well, four abductions, strong evidence left at every scene—literally."

"So, first vic was a pastor?" The younger Winchester inquires.

"Yeah," Jody confirms. "'Door of his study was punched in. And then, the next two—an engaged couple."

"Locked bedroom window was ripped open." Dean reads.

"Mhm, and then we have our waitress here with the topsy-turvy ride."

We look at where the last victim's vehicle was hours before, and I ask, "Any other connection among them?"

"Yeah. They were all members of Good Faith Church here. My, uh, my church group back in Sioux Falls was in a tizzy over it."

"Hm," Dean hums, rangling our attention, and prompting a 'What?' from the sheriff. "I didn't peg you for churchy."

"Shut up, Dean." I scold before advising, "Don't listen to him."

"Yeah. You know...choking on the ladies' room floor 'cause of witchcraft kind of makes a higher power seem relevant."

"Jody, are you sure you're, uh, ready to jump back in the fray?" He asks cautiously.

She shrugs. "This wackadoo stuff keeps coming. 'More I know, better armed I'll be."

"Okay, so, we have, uh, missing church folk and super strength. Maybe angels harvesting vessels? Could be a Buddy Boyle type thing." Sam suggests.

Her eyes widen at the mention of the famous celestial beings. "Wh—Angels? You're joking."

"Don't get your pants on fire. They suck." Dean confesses with disgust laced in his words.

"You said there was a witness." I remind.

"Yeah, well...more or less." She collects the case files.

"Can we speak to him?"

"If you think that's a good idea. Why don't you guys head inside? I'll get him."

As we enter Casey's diner, I tell the boys to get a table while I head to the bathroom. After locking the door behind me, I look myself in the mirror. I reapply my lip balm, scrunch my hair for volume, and straighten my uncomfortable clothes before exiting the bathroom. My heels echo against the porcelain tiles as I walk towards the booth the boys chose. They sip on their already-ordered coffee, and just as I was going to sit in the open side, Jody and the witness enter the diner.

"Scoot over," I hurriedly tell Dean.

"What? No. Sit over there."

"I swear to God, I will sit on your lap. Scoot!" I push my way into the Winchester's side just as the two walk over.

Jody slides into the booth. "Okay, Slim. My friends here want to talk to you about the missing girl."

"Honor," The man sits beside the sheriff. "Her name was Honor. Nice girl. Always left me meatloafs."

Dean and I give him a warm smile before Sam speaks.

"Slim, why don't you tell us what you saw that night?"

"I heard a big noise, got woke, and there's somebody over there lifting a car up—like this." He lifts his hands over his head.

"And did you happen to see who it was?" asks Dean.

The man sets his hands down, answering, "I was too far. But I saw a light go off."

"A white light?" Sam interjects.

"Blue. Blue like fire. But not. Then she was—she wasn't there."

"Could you think of anything else?" I inquire.

The witness shakes his head. "No."

I reach for my purse, but Dean grabs my wrist, stopping me. Instead, his hand slides into his pants pocket.

"Well...Slim. Thank you for your time." He pulls out a wad of cash and sets a Jackson on the mahogany table.

Jody rubs the man's shoulder as he looks down at the cash. He grabs the money and leaves us alone at the table. I take his spot beside her before we talk about the next steps.

"Okay. So, no white light." "No angel." The guys cross off a suspect.

"Has anybody talked to the victims' families?" I question.

"It's next on my list." The sheriff addresses.

"Okay, and you said that they were all part of the same church?"

She nods.

"Ready to get your worship on?" Dean asks his brother with a smile.

Sam chuckles at the question, knowing exactly what that entails.

The brothers and I sit in the chairs across from Bonnie, Good Faith's all-too-cheery secretary's desk, beginning our meeting.

"We hope you enjoyed the tour. Any questions before we get you all registered?" The ginger-haired woman asks before settling into her leather chair.

Sam, seated in the middle, looks at Dean and me before speaking. "Uh, yeah, uh, look, um, Ms. Futchko—"

"Oh, please..." She chuckles as she tilts her head. "Bonnie will do just fine."

"Bonnie. Okay, um, we...love the church. We do. But...well, we've heard that a few members have gone missing, and, to be honest...that kind of scares us."

With her hands folded on the desk, she shakes her head. "Let me assure you, with our increased security, Good Faith has never been safer. And those people who have gone missing, well, they are front and center in our prayers."

"What a relief," says Dean. "Now, you must have been, uh, close to them."

"Well, we do share the A.P.U. Bond."

"'The A.P.U.'?" I inquire.

"Our chastity group, Abstinence Purifies Us." She clarifies.

"Oh. W-wow. You mind if we sit in on that, maybe see if it's for us?" Sam asks.

With a smile, she politely declines. "I'm afraid it's members only. I'm sorry, but it can get pretty personal."

"Then count me in." I volunteer.

"Us. Us in." Sam adds.

Dean glances at Sam with concern. I couldn't see, but without a doubt, Sam gives his brother a look, convincing him to go along. Dean turns to Bonnie, lifting his eyebrows with a grin, showing Bonnie he's on board. So much for taking one for the team, I thought.

"Well," she chuckles excitedly. "I'll be a squirrel in a skirt. I'll be back in a jiff with the papers."

She eagerly heads to the adjacent room to grab the forms from the file cabinet.

"A chastity group?" Dean groans to Sam.

"Dean, listen, if all the members were in A.P.U., then maybe whatever took them is stalking virgins."

"And that Slim guy said he thought he saw fire. So, what are you thinking, dragons?"

"Mm."

I shush the boys before clearing my throat just as Bonnie returns.

"All righty," she hands each of us a clipboard to sign. "You can just sign there, and your purification can begin."

Sam reads the title of the baby-blue commitment sheet, "'Purity Pledge'?"

"It's a commitment to your virginity," Bonnie recites the second line of the contract.

"I don't think we can really un-ring that bell. You know what I mean?" Dean's deep and painfully sexy voice proudly alludes.

I roll my eyes, peeved at being reminded, once again, of his past relations and jealous that I hadn't yet "rung" his bell. He flashes his pearly whites to Bonnie, basking in the glory of his sexual "achievements." Her piercing blue eyes stare widely, not understanding his innuendo. His smile fades as he glances at Sam. She follows Dean's gaze toward the younger Winchester before he stares back guiltily.

"Oh," Bonnie shifts her eyes to her desk, "I see." Our expressions were filled with uncertainty, fearing our chance of attending the secluded meeting was now diminished. But her "Well..." and bright smile gave us hope. "If you just ask for God's forgiveness for your sins and make a new vow of chastity, well, then, you'll be born again as a virgin in His eyes."

"So, you just hit the 'virginity do-over' button, and all is good with The Man Upstairs?"

"It's not a button. And...this isn't just a piece of paper. I mean, this is your clean slate, your chance to be a virgin until marriage."

"Well, you had me at 'clean state.'" With the click of his pen, he utters, "Let's do this," and signs the pledge.

Sam and I follow suit, then hand the clipboards back to Bonnie. Beaming with zeal, she congratulates us. "You are all virgins."

In unison, the men breathe an "ah" before grinning with glee.

"Bonnie, could you tell us when the next A.P.U. meeting is?" I ask with a trusting smile. "We're so eager to join."

She looks at the small analog clock on her desk. "You're in luck. It starts in 15 minutes."

"Perfect! Lead the way." Sam gestures to the door before standing.

"With pleasure." The dainty woman leads us to a large room, with members already beginning to file in. "There are refreshments at that table. Otherwise, find a seat, and it'll begin shortly."

Unable to resist, Dean beelines toward the small spread. He grabs a few cookies in one hand and stuffs his face with the other. Sam and I stare in disgust, watching the mannerless child chew with his mouth open.

"What?" He stares between us, offering his desert-filled hand. Crumbs fall from his lip as he asks, "Want some?"

Sam shakes his head, "We're alright."

I turn around and take in the room. The chairs were arranged in a circle, making me feel unsettled.

"Oh God, it looks like they're gonna try'n convince me'ta drink the Kool-Aid," I mumble, earning a chuckle from Sam.

Once Dean finishes his cookies, we sit in the open chairs. By this time, everyone who was a part of the club had shown up, all women. I snort, amused by the turnout, especially since Sam and Dean were the only males. I could've just signed up solo, but their commitment to the job was strong. Everyone settles into a seat, and the meeting begins.

"Good afternoon, everyone. I'm Suzy," The group says their hellos, and she continues. "I thought we'd begin with a silent prayer for our missing friends."

The women nod and bow their heads, and I do the same. The clearing of Sam's throat catches my attention, so I open one eye in his direction. Dean glances at his brother before following the rest. As soon as I shut my eyes again, Suzy concludes the prayer. Amens echo quietly before the club's counselor carries on with the session.

"Now, does anyone have anything that they would like to share?"

Without missing a beat, an eager member raises her hand and says, "I wrote a new piece of verse." The curly-haired ginger grabs the folded pink paper from her purse and stands, reading its title. "It's called 'Sex is a racket, and God's ball is in your court.'"

"And we would love to hear that, Tammy—later." Disappointed, she sits down as Suzy proposes, "Why don't we hear from our new friends? Sam, what brought you here to reclaim your virginity?"

With a smirk, I gaze at the Winchester, sitting on the edge of my seat to hear his response. He hesitates, mouth agape as he attempts to find an excuse.

"Well, I guess because every woman I've...ever...had relations with, uh...it...hasn't ended well."

"He ain't lying." Dean chuckles, earning a look from his brother.

"Thank you for being here, Sam," Suzy says with sincerity. "Stay strong. Stay pure."

Together, they repeat the club's motto. "Stay strong. Stay pure."

"And you, Dean? What set you on the path away from sin?"

This outta be good.

"Uh, hard to say, exactly. Yeah. Sex has always felt—I don't know—good, you know? I mean, really, really good. Uh...but, uh...sometimes, it just makes you feel bad, you know?" Hmm. 'Expected worse. "You're drunk. You shack up. Then, it's the whole morning thing. You know, "Hey, that was fun." And then "Adios," you know? Always the 'Adios.'"

For a moment, he stares off into space before continuing, "But, you know, when you get down to it, what's the big deal, right?" Annnnnndd, here we go, I sigh.

"I mean, sure, there's the touching and the feeling all of each other, my hands everywhere, tracing every inch of her body,"

His alluring words, brought to life by his deep and sultry voice, cause my heart to quicken. My breath hitches, and I forget why and where I am as I watch his hands move as he speaks, wishing they were on me.

"The two of us moving together, pressing and pulling...grinding."

My body goes hot, and my breathing becomes shallow, imagining our bodies tangled between the sheets. I cross my legs, trying to get some friction from my jeans, but it doesn't help.

"Then you hit that sweet spot, and everything just builds and builds and builds,"

A quiet moan slips past my lips as I fantasize about his member thrusting at a fast and deep pace inside me. My walls painfully clench, desperate to break our vows together right here and now. But instead, I settle for his vivid description to get me off.

"Until it all just..." He clenches his fists beside his head, and with his face scrunched, he imitates the sound of an explosion.

Fuck.

Sam clears his throat loudly, snapping not only Dean but everyone out of the lust-induced trance. Tearing my gaze away from the Winchester, I stare at my lap. My knuckles were white from having clutched my jeans so tightly. With a sigh, I release the material and uncross my legs. I close my eyes from embarrassment, feeling the pool between my legs.

"Yeah. Uh...but the whole thing was just a little too, uh...sticky. So, uh, I got my 'V' card back." He slaps his knee with a devilishly innocent grin. "The end."

My eyes open, and from across the room, Bonnie shakes her head in disappointment. I glance around the circle and realize I hadn't been the only one under his lust spell. Some women looked dazed, others surprised. As jealous as I wanted to be that he made other women feel like this, I couldn't blame them. Suzy blinks a few times, then turns her attention toward me.

"Uh...Maricela, what about you?"

I clear my throat, attempting to regain my voice. "What he said."

The rest of the meeting was a blur. I couldn't focus on anything besides Dean's arousing monologue. Before I knew it, Suzy was concluding the conclave. The women stand, and the brothers and I huddle in a circle. The members pick up their chairs, passing us to put them away.

"So, um...wee bit of an over-share, Dean?"

"I was purifying." Dean justifies. Sam chuckles as I feel my face heat up. "Hey, she look familiar to you?"

The eldest nods in the direction of the counselor and a younger member.

"Suzy?" Sam questions.

"Yeah. 'Swear I know her from somewhere."

"Oh, good, Dean. 'Cause that line never fails."

"Well, let's find out." He smirks before walking in the direction of the blonde woman.

Sam and I sigh for different yet similar reasons. A gentle tap brushes against our backs, and we turn around. Bonnie stands before us, grinning eagerly. "Hey."

"So?"

"So?" We repeat.

"How did you guys like the meeting?"

"Oh, I-I-I-I loved it." Sam stutters.

"Yeah, it was great," I fib with him. "Though I couldn't help but think of those who weren't here."

"Oh." Bonnie lifts her hands, rubbing them together as she says the vic's name. "Honor. She's my favorite." She looks past us, and her eyes grow wide. Holding up her index finger, she excuses herself.

She walks past Tammy, ignoring the look of disgust she threw her way.

"Her favorite?" Tammy spins around, scoffing, "She has no idea what kind of girl Honor is."

"You don't say. Uh, Tammy, right? The poet." Sam charms.

She hums with pride before I ask, "Tammy, why don't you tell us what kind of girl Honor is?"

Sam places his hand on her back and guides her to the opposite end of the room. Tammy dives into her rant about the girl she despises, refraining from sparing any detail. The urge to roll my eyes was strong, but I couldn't jeopardize being trustworthy. When she begins to complain about the cookie situation, Sam excuses himself. My brows draw together as he walks to Dean, who is grabbing his jacket from his chair. The exchange was short, but the eldest pats Sam on the arm before leaving with Suzy.

The voices in the room instantly fade once he disappears, and given the look he gave his brother, I know he's getting "lucky." The wrinkle in my forehead straightens, and I'm left with a deadpan expression as a wave of anger and jealousy washes over my body. Sam walks back to Tammy and me, asking what he missed. I couldn't be bothered to answer, concentrating on not hitting someone or something. My best friend saw my pain and rubbed my shoulder with sympathy. I want to cry from envy and rage, but instead, I redirect my attention to Tammy so we can finish the case and leave this stupid town.

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gurneetsadhra23 · 4 months ago

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JUST A LITTLE

PAIRING : beau arlen x younger fem!reader

SUMMARY : beau lies before coming clean.

WARNINGS : age gap. strong language. angst. depression. mentions of (you’ll see at the end 😘—don’t worry, it’s not bad)

A/N : sorry for making y’all wait so long! it took me forever to make up my mind on how i wanted to continue this fic. there will be one more part after this so stay tuned but for now, i give you part 2 of are you ashamed? ! (hope y’all ain’t too disappointed with this)

“Wait a second, he did what?” Cassie asks, her eyebrows drawn together.

“And you let him live?” adds Jenny.

You had driven home and attempted to sleep everything off, but you couldn’t; Your mind only raced. After tossing and turning, you decided to seek unbiased advice from your mutual friends. So, you visit Dewell and Hoyt Private Investigations' office.

“I can’t believe he would do such a thing,” says Denise.

“Yeah, well, neither can I. I’ve never seen that side of Beau…” You stare off into the distance, replaying the memories that occurred earlier this morning. “I know he didn’t mean to be rough. I know that. You should've seen the hurt in his eyes when I told him we were done...I don’t know. Maybe I should just talk to him.”

“Well, now’s your chance. He’s coming over.” Jenny points out.

Everyone looks out the large windows, and sure enough, Beau and Emily cross the street, walking right towards the building.

“Fuck,” you murmur under your breath. “I should go. Can I use the back door?”

But he sees you. He sees you in their office. His heart races, and so does his feet. Before anyone answers you, he opens the door. Is it too late to leave? You ask yourself. The answer’s yes. Emily walks in behind her father, a big smile on her gentle face as she greets the ladies with warm embraces. Beau would’ve followed his daughter’s actions if he didn’t feel the tension in the room. He knew he screwed up, and he knew they knew too. Her gaze shifts towards you, smile unfaltering.

She extends her hand, introducing herself, “Hi, I’m Emily.”

You take her hand, and a whirlwind of emotions overcome you. You’ve waited—dreamed—of this moment, but it was nothing like you envisioned, not under these circumstances. Instead, you swallow your feelings and return her bright smile.

“Hi! It’s so nice to meet you. I’ve heard such great things about you. I’m Y/N.”

Beau hadn’t taken his eyes off you. He, too, had many emotions swirling within. Every possible thought rushes to his head, wondering how to play this. He hadn’t expected to see you here, but he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t looking for you all over town. Emily could tell he was distracted as they bounced from store to store, but she brushed it off, assuming it was just his hatred of shopping.

“Awe, thank you. It’s nice to meet you, too.” She looks at her dad and sees his stare. She glances between you two. Feeling the tension, Emily asks, “Do you know each other?”

His attention snaps to his daughter, and his breath catches in his throat. She’s my girlfriend, he wants to blurt, but it doesn’t pass his lips. You wait, desperate to hear his answer. It was his chance to come clean, to declare your love.

“No,” He shakes his head, and your heart sinks. Beau looks at you and raises his hand. “Nice to meet you.”

Nice to meet you. Like a sucker punch to the gut, you’re left breathless. Your heart shatters into a million pieces. That was it…he made his decision. He erased the last seven months like it was nothing, erased you like it was nothing.

All eyes are on you, waiting for what you'd do next. With a swallow, you choke down on a sob. His hand hangs in the air, and you know if you touch him, you’ll crumble in front of everyone. Your bleeding heart begins to quicken, and your breathing becomes uneven; You need to leave.

"I—" You try to speak, but your voice fails. Tears threaten your vision, and you know you need to get outta there. After clearing your throat, you excuse yourself, "I have to go. It was nice meeting you, Emily."

You bolt of out the office without giving her a chance to reply. This particular afternoon was busier than usual, so you had to park further away. Once you get to your car, you realize you left your keys on Denise's desk. Fuck, you wanted to shout. Just your luck. You couldn't go back in there, not with him there, not with everyone else, and NOT after storming off the way you did.

Fuck, fuck, fuckity, fuck! Okay—I can sit inside my car, call one of the girls, and have them bring out my keys. You pull the car door handle, and low and behold, it's locked. Panic sets in. Maybe I didn't pull hard enough. You try again. Nothing. And again and again and again, until you either look like a thief trying to break into the car or a crazy person who can't take a hint. No, no, no. Please don't do this to me! In frustration, you pound your fists against your vehicle. This can't be happening.

You hear footsteps approaching your car, and when you glance over, you see it’s the cowardly man who disowned you. He stops near your front bumper, keys in hand. Why him? Why did he have to come out and give me my keys? It's clear you’re desperately trying to avoid him, but if you ever planned on going home, you needed to engage. With a huff, you walk over and snatch them away.

As you turn around, he grabs your wrist. "Sweetheart, please—"

The stun of your open hand colliding with his breaded cheek interrupts his sentence. The impact had forced his head to the right, and despite the tingling in your hand, you feel the tiniest bit better. Your chest rises and falls as you begin to see red. His head slowly turns to you, reminding himself he deserves that and more.

"Don't you dare try to feed me some lame-ass excuse! Pretending not to know me? You've got to be fucking kidding!" You shout, fighting back tears. "I can't believe I wasted all those months on you, and for what? To be disrespected and thrown to the side like trash? I deserve more!"

"I know that, and I am so sorry. I-I panicked. But I swear, I’m gonna make it up to you. I just need some time—“

“No, Beau. You need someone your own age,” You say bitterly. It was the hard truth, but you both needed to hear it. “It was my mistake for thinking we were more than what we were.”

The overbearing weight of harsh clarity begins to root itself in your soul. He kept you around ‘cause he wanted to, not because he needed you. He didn’t need you like you needed him. You fell head over heels the first time you met Beau, and you were sure he felt the same way, too. Clearly, it was your mistake. You begin to feel weak, so you turn to head back to your car.

"Don't say that..." Then, you faintly hear the words that were now an insult, “I love you.”

As you swing open the passenger door, barely holding it together, you remark, “Well, you certainly have an odd way of showing it.”

After giving him more time than he deserves, you throw your key into the ignition and speed away from your ex, incredibly fragile and numb all at once. That was two rough weeks ago. Beau hadn't slept much since your last interaction, and neither had you. Every night, he'd lay in bed, clutching your bra; It was the only thing he had left of you. When he did sleep, he dreamt of everything as it should be, with you by his side.

He hated being alone with his thoughts. All the horrible things he did to you haunted him. So, on days when he wasn't scheduled to have Emily, he occupied himself with work. Everyone walked on eggshells around him. He was no longer the easy-going Sheriff they all knew him to be. No, he was a ticking time bomb. One wrong move would set him off, but not with his daughter.

One night, he and Emily sat outside as the rom-com of her choice played before them. He didn't want to watch the cheesy love story, especially when his love life was a living hell, but his daughter wore him down. A while into the film, she turned to her father, observing the way he stared through the projector screen. He wasn't even watching the movie. Instead, he was trying his best to ignore it.

A frown crossed her face as her heart ached to see him feeling so blue. Emily wondered if it had anything to do with you. She was both intelligent and intuitive, just like her parents. But it didn’t take a genius to see something was going on between you two, and given the way you had practically run off, it only added to her suspicion. She mustered the courage to speak with her father as he wasn't the most communicative person.

"Dad?"

He turns to his daughter, a distant concern written on his face. “Hmm?”

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine.”

Beau looks back at the screen, pretending to watch, but she pulls his attention again. “No, I mean…in general.”

“‘Course, I am,” He lies before asking the question he hoped she didn’t have a valid answer to. “Why’d you ask?”

“Well, you’ve been kinda down lately, and you haven’t been yourself.”

“Well, Em, work’s been—“

“I know it’s not just work. There's something more you aren't telling me. I’ve been talking to Jenny and—“

“Why are you—what'd she tell you?” He inquires sternly, his heart beginning to race. I swear if she fucking told my daughter..!

“Nothing, just to talk to you,” The urgency in his question added to her nervousness, but she pushed through. “Is it because of Y/N?”

His heart stopped at the mention of your name. It was the first time he'd heard it since that horrible day weeks prior. No one knew of Beau's betrayal besides the girls, and no one dared bring you up, knowing they would receive the backlash. He was grateful there hadn’t been someone stupid enough to do so but had felt alone without anyone to talk to, especially when the only person he wanted to speak to was you. You never answered any of his calls, but he remained relentless.

He adjusted uncomfortably in his chair. It was the question he hoped she wouldn't ask. His mouth opened and closed, resembling a fish, as he struggled to answer. He wanted to tell Emily the truth, but the fear crept in. He didn't want to lie anymore. Beau wanted you back, but he was afraid of what his daughter would say.

“What makes you think it’s because of her?” His voice nearly cracked.

“Ever since that day at the office, you’ve been off. I can see how sad you’ve been, and I’ve only ever seen you like this twice: after your partner died and when you and Mom were divorcing. And from the way you and Y/N looked at each other…I don’t know. It seemed like there was something more going on.” He would’ve smiled at her observation if he wasn’t heartbroken, replaying all the memories in his head. She detected his sorrow when she spoke, and despite her reluctance, she asked, “Dad, who is she?”

His heart softened. It was time. He should’ve told Emily all those opportunities ago. She deserved it, and so did you. The two most important women in his life were right about him: He didn’t respect you enough to profess the best relationship he’s ever been in to his family, and he’s never been sadder than how he’s treated you. So he takes a deep breath and confesses.

“She’s my girlfriend. Or was…I don’t know. I’ve hurt her in more ways than I care to admit.”

Emily slowly nods, taking in the not-so-shocking news. She knew there had been someone making him happier than usual. Ever since you came into the picture Beau wasn’t hung up on his ex-wife anymore. Sure, he still cared for her, but if it hadn’t been for his daughter, he would’ve forgotten about Carla completely when he met you. Em was a little concerned about the visible age gap you and her father shared, but she didn’t say so.

“Pretending you’ve never met her in front of everyone was pretty harsh. I can’t imagine how hurt she is.”

Hearing it out loud, especially coming from his daughter, brought tears to his eyes. How could he do that to you? Hell, if someone ever did that to Emily, he’d kill them. He’d make sure the fella would never hurt her again. So, how did he stand a chance at winning you back?

“Yeah,” He nodded as he looked at the ground in defeat. “I wouldn’t blame her if she never wants to see me again. I just…I’m so in love with her.”

“How long have you two been together?”

He swallowed hard. Your anniversary was next week, and he wasn’t ready for it. “Almost eight months.”

“Why haven’t you told anyone?”

He grimaced. “I have. ‘Just haven’t told you or your mom.”

“So you told everyone else before your own daughter?” She was angry, and her tone showed it. “Do I mean that little to you?”

“No, Em, that’s not—“

“Then why?!”

“Because I was scared!” He blurts. “I was scared that you wouldn’t like her. I was scared you wouldn’t approve, that the age gap was too hard to get passed. But none of that matters anymore because I let my doubts push her away. I lost her.”

His shoulders slumped, and his head had hung in dejection. The tears finally fell as he whispered the last sentence again. I lost her. He refused to believe it before, but it was inevitable. He was finally honest with Emily and himself. She had seen her father tear up before but never cry. Her heart ached to see him so distraught.

“If you really love Y/N, you have to fight for her. I can overlook the age gap but you also should’ve given me the chance to, especially if she makes you happy. I want you to be happy, and I know Mom does, too.”

Beau wiped his tears dry, and so did his daughter’s words. “I know. I should’ve told you sooner, and I’m sorry I didn’t.” Despite the newfound comfort, it was too late for him. “But I think I ruined any chance with Y/N. I’ve hurt her for so long…I don’t deserve her.”

“Don’t say that!” Emily insists. “You are an amazing person, and I’m not just saying that because you’re my dad.“

“Thank you, sweetheart.” He gave her a small, lopsided smile.

“You deserve to be happy, and I know she’s the reason you have been. That’s why I already like her. I’d really love to meet her as your girlfriend.”

“I don’t think that’ll happen.”

“If she’s put up with you all this time, I know you can win her back. I’ll even give you some ideas!”

More than anything, he wanted to make you his again. His heart yearned for it. He admired his daughter’s eagerness to help make up for his mistakes. Hope began to fill his soul and gave him the encouragement he needed. And with the first real smile in weeks, he vowed to do whatever it took to win you back.

Meanwhile, back in your apartment, you stare at the home pregnancy test in your hand.

Positive.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”

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