hunter-or-the-hunted

[hunter-or-the-hunted]

Jenny's a primal!? Oh this just getting better with each part that comes out!

Primal (Part 6)

Summary: The team finally confronts Hunter in an effort to take him down. In the aftermath, the gang heads to Boston to help with the investigation by the Marshals and Y/N and Tim have a heated discussion about what the future holds now that Y/N's mated to Beau. But things aren't so simple and danger still lurks under the surface...

Primal Masterlist

Pairing: Alpha!Beau Arlen x Omega!reader

Word Count: 5,300ish

Warnings: language, angst, violence, drugging, serial killers, death, kidnapping, mention of human trafficking

A/N: I absolutely love the end of this part for so many reasons! Enjoy!...

Reader POV

“Well Brock’s a piece of walking human garbage,” said Lucy as you walked through the parking lot around mid morning. 

“Lucky me. Two piece of shit father’s,” you said, leaning against the side of your rental car, Lucy throwing an arm over your shoulder.

“Hey. This whole thing sucks but at least you found out you and Tim are half-siblings. At least you got one family member on your side.”

You let a small smile onto your face. You honestly hadn’t cared about if you were related or not. But hopefully it was a comfort to him that at least someone in his family gave a shit about him. He’d sounded so damn…broken on the phone. His hormones were probably all out of whack after the Primal incident but you’d never heard him like that before.

When this was all over, you were having a serious discussion with him about getting some help.

“Are you worried about your mom at all?” she asked, pulling you back to the present.

“I should be but like, I’m not?” You crossed your arms, resting your head on her shoulder. “I have this awful feeling she knew about my dad this whole time. If she knew what he did to all those omegas…am I a monster for not caring if she’s alive or not?”

“What’s your gut say?”

“Y/N.” You both turned, Brock dragging an oxygen tank on wheels behind him across the wet pavement of the parking lot.

“Go back inside, Brock. I’d hate for you to catch pneumonia and die,” you said, narrowing your eyes. Brock ignored you, stopping at the trunk to catch his breath. You towered over him as he leaned against the metal, breathing hard, struggling to catch his breath. “I know what you did to Tim. What kind of monster hurts a child?”

He straightened himself up, staring as you balled up your fists.

“Unless you have something to share that will help us, get the hell away from me.”

“You really think your father could pull all those beautiful women by himself? He’s ugly as sin. Your mother had affairs all the time. Some he didn’t know about, some he did.” You held up a hand, Lucy walking around to your side.

“You’re saying Y/N’s mother helped Teddy with the murders?” she asked. “Why wouldn’t you say something?”

“Hey. I don’t know that they did anything for sure but I do know your mother and father would find women to join them in the bedroom. Young omegas. They used to talk about how much fun the first time they did it was with a Tina.”

“Tina Paxton,” said Lucy, pulling out her phone to text Beau. “Y/N-”

“Thank you Brock. Please contact Officer Wilde if you remember anything else.”

“You’re my daughter-”

“I have no need for any more parental figures in my life, Brock. Now please return inside and do Tim and I a favor. Make your end of life arrangements now and make damn sure we have nothing to do with it.”

You flipped him off, Brock grumbling as he headed back for the entrance slowly. You spun around and clapped your hands together, Lucy’s eyes full of concern.

“I’m good,” you said, forcing a smile on your face. “I got Tim and Beau and an old friend back in my life. I’m good.”

“Beau wants us to stay in Seattle,” said Lucy, shoving her phone away. “Says he and Tim are making a move on Hunter and are close. Once they grab them, he’s going to contact Boston PD to arrest your parents.”

“Sounds easy when you put it like that. I’m sure those boys don’t need us at all, right?” Lucy rolled her eyes, heading for the drivers seat. “I’ll call that army guy, see how fast we can get back to Helena.”

Two Hours Later

“How do we know where they are?” asked Lucy, handing you her phone as you drove through Helena. You tapped away on it, pulling up an airtag that was no longer sitting at the station. “You think that’s Tim’s?”

“We kept four in our go bag for emergencies. One is offline and is the one Beau shoved down his pants earlier. The other two are at the station. This is the only one that’s showing elsewhere. Looks like in the business district.” She drove as you directed her, coming to a stop outside a warehouse looking building.

“I can’t let you go in there,” she said, getting out of her patrol car and popping the trunk. You watched her pull on a vest and grab a shotgun. “Will you please stay in the car?”

“I promise. Go get the boys.”

You slid back in the passenger seat, ready to call for backup once Lucy texted that they had Hutner and his guys under arrest. Five minutes turned into ten which turned into fifteen. Why was it taking so long? You jumped up when your phone buzzed.

Call for backup. Bring the medical bag from the trunk inside asap.

Dread filled your gut as you did as told, getting a message out to the station and finding the orange bag in the back of the trunk. You ran inside the side door, looking all around. “Lucy?”

“Back here!” You followed her voice, startled by the amount of blood spatter everywhere. Hunter and his cronies were in various positions of death on the far side of the room. Tim sat on the concrete nearby, a bloody nose making his face look a mess and was holding his shoulder that looked just a tad too off to be normal.

“Beau,” you breathed out when you saw him on the ground, Lucy pressing blood hands against his shoulder. 

“I’m fine. Ain’t you ever seen a movie? Totally non-lethal,” he joked, wincing as Lucy pressed more of her body weight against him. 

“That’s a lot of blood,” you said, Beau grimacing. 

“He’ll live,” said Tim, sitting forward, tilting his eyes at Lucy. “Who the hell are you?”

“The person saving your ass,” she said. Tim raised his eyebrows, Beau chuckling as you cradled his head in your lap. “Got a problem with that Alpha boy?”

“You could have cleared the room a little less sloppily but other than that, nope.” 

“God it’s good you’re pretty with a mouth like that,” she said. Tim smiled, a strange look of adoration on his face.

“You think I’m pretty? Cause I ain’t got nothing on-”

“Timothy,” you growled. “She just saved your life. Behave.”

“We had it handled, right Barlen?” grunted Tim.

“Got a little dicey for my liking,” he said, wincing up at you. You sighed, running a hand through his hair. “You didn’t listen to me about staying in Seattle.”

“It was all Lucy.” She huffed, taking a wad of bandages as Tim scooted over and handed a package to her. “No it’s true. She dragged me back here against my will, wanted to save her boss.”

“I’m sure that’s what Officer Wilde’s report will say,” he said, sirens bouncing in the distance. “Wilde. When you get done keeping the blood in my body, contact Boston PD, let them know to move in on Y/N’s parents.”

You sighed, holding a hand over his wound when Lucy went to check Tim, that same stupid look on his face.

“Good god, he’s practically drooling over her,” mumbled Beau, chuckling when you giggled. You ran a hand through his hair, Beau smiling up at you. “You’re safe now, sweetheart.”

“You got hurt,” you said softly, Beau waving you off.

“I’ll be fine. Are you okay?” 

“Yeah. We need to have a talk about…everything when you get a chance.”

“We will,” he murmured, closing his eyes. “We don’t really have to live in Boston do we?”

You smirked, leaning down and kissing his forehead. “Helena is fine with me. Later. You just rest now.”

Two Weeks Later - Boston

“Hey, kiddo.” You stared at the wall of pictures in the foyer of your parents house, a heavy hand resting on top of your head as you sighed. “We don’t have to do this today.”

“I never want to come back to this house, Tim. Let’s get this over with.” He gently ruffled your hair, smoothing it out before he was standing next to the wall with a black storage tub, the yellow lid laying somewhere around there. By the front door were two more, already filled with objects from your parents home to go into storage.

Teddy was on the run and your mother was in custody. You’d been back in Boston for over a week to answer endless questions by the Marshals office but thankfully they’d cleared Tim of any wrongdoing and told him he was eligible to rejoin the agency.

“Leave the photos of my parents,” you said as you walked down the hall towards the front den. You knew Tim would ignore you. Someday you might want them. You didn’t have to sort through them right now he’d tell you. As far as you were concerned, they could sit in a storage container in Montana for the next few decades. Any of the ones you’d actually want to look at and put up were back at your shared townhouse.

“We cleared out your old room, pictures, basement,” he said, almost to himself as you leaned against the entrance to the den. “You want to steal any of your mom’s shit?”

“We could set it on fire?” He frowned. “You’re no fun, Barclay.”

“Your mom gave us permission to take what we want from the house, not burn the place to ashes.” He sat the bin down behind you, looking over your shoulder into the den. “Heard she’s claiming Teddy threatened her into helping him. Says she hasn’t helped kill someone in over thirty years. Still a life sentence at least.”

“Did she know Teddy wanted me dead? Wanted to frame you for it?” He shifted, eyes downcast when you looked over your shoulder. “Is that a yes? Did she even give a fuck about me?”

He scoffed, exhaling slowly. “I think in her own twisted way she cares about you. Maybe not other omegas but you she does. Her affair with my dad was just her having fun. Your dad will always be her priority though. She let herself get caught to give him time to get away.”

“Well, we’ve known that since I was a kid they cared more about each other than me. They’d have you babysit me while they went on their fucking murder dates.” You leaned your head against his shoulder, Tim wrapping his arm around your back.

“Yes but I gave you oreos and would let you watch horror movies far too scary for an eleven year old so I think you made out alright.”

“I hated watching horror movies,” you said, Tim smirking. “I didn’t want you to think I was some lame girl. I wanted you to think I was the coolest kid there was.”

“Hard fail there.” You punched his good arm, Tim feigning pain. “I’ll be sure to let Arlen know how much you love horror.”

“I’ll be sure to him know how much you like him.” You grinned wide, Tim rolling his eyes. “You’ve been using his actual name more often. I know you’ve warmed up to him.”

“He’s…not as awful as some of your past boyfriends. But that doesn’t mean I like him.” 

“Sure you don’t.” You hummed, peeling yourself away and spinning back around to examine the foyer. 

“Do you mind if I take the kitchenaid mixer?” he asked, nodding towards the kitchen.

“I mean go for it but we got one at home. You want to re-sell it or something?” He raised an eyebrow, looking at you like you were the weird one. “What is that face for?”

“Aren’t you taking the mixer at our townhouse to Montana?”

“Yes? Which again, why do we need another one?” you asked. 

“For the townhouse...” he said, frowning at you. You both stared at each other and stared and stared, your heads tilting so much if anyone came inside they’d take you both to be examined by a doctor. “You’re taking the mixer to Montana.”

“Yes…”

Therefore, I need a mixer.” You shook your head. “What is so confusing about that?”

“What are you talking about, Timothy? We’ve shared that mixer for the past decade. We don’t need two of them in Montana.” He closed his mouth, a wave of relief, perhaps realization, washing down his face. Meanwhile an unsettling feeling worked its way into your gut.

“Y/N, I’m not going to Helena. I’m staying in Boston at the townhouse.” You held up a hand, quirking your lip up.

“Ha ha. Very funny. Now help me-”

“Y/N.” His voice was quiet yet sharp. No. He was full of shit. He was messing with you. You crossed your arms, Tim’s eyes darting downwards. “I’m not moving out of Boston.”

“Why? You have nothing here.” You sucked in air the second the words left your lips, Tim looking up and nodding. “Tim, I didn’t mean-”

“You’re wrong,” he said, his tone flat, no malice behind it. “I can rejoin the Marshals. I can go to trivia night with my old friends. I can rejoin that baseball league. Hell, maybe I can even find myself a girlfriend that’ll stick this time.”

“You can do all those things in Montana though,” you said softly, Tim’s shrug starting to piss you off. “You never have a problem making friends or meeting women and they have the Marshals and baseball in Helena. Why would you stay here?”

“Because I’ve been following you around my entire adult life and I need some damn space from you. I gave up a year of my life for you. I was almost killed. I’ll be on thin ice with the Marshals the rest of my career not because of Teddy but because I got involved with you.” He wiped a hand over his mouth, resting his hands on his hips while your anger deflated like a balloon. You shook your head, frowning at him. No. This was him trying to push you away because he felt shitty and you weren’t about to let him get away with it.

“Bullshit. You’re being mean because you blame yourself for attacking me. You want me to get pissed and walk out on you like everyone else does. Not going to happen so be an asshole. You don’t get to-”

He stormed over, leering down into your face with a snarl. “Teddy was my boss. Do not confuse me doing my job to impress him with me caring about you.”

“Why don’t you be a real man and just tell me the truth, coward,” you snapped back, lifting your chin. He glared at you but you saw his facade starting to crack. “You’re scared that because Beau claimed me, I don’t need you anymore so you’re trying to cut me out of your life first because everybody you trust hurts you in the end. Tell me I’m wrong.”

“You’re an insufferable know it all.” He walked away, heading for the stairs, pausing with one hand on the railing. “Go play house with Beau in Montana and we can both move on with our lives.”

“No!” You grabbed the closest object to you, a decorative wicker ball thing and chucked it at his back. He spun around, eyes flashed in alarm as you stormed over and yanked on his shirt collar on the steps, pulling down to your level. “You don’t want to move to Montana? Fine. I’ll learn to live with it. But you don’t get to walk away from me. I have always known I’m the only family you have and I always hated it. I wanted my parents to love you but I knew it wouldn’t happen.”

You took a deep breath, his face unreadable. Unfisting your hand, you found his, wrapping your smaller one around it. His eyes flickered, a vulnerability setting in.

“If you don’t want to live with me anymore, that’s okay. I know we annoy each other and I know you sacrificed a lot this past year. There were so many nights you stayed up so I could get a good night’s sleep. So many times I was a brat and argued with you about wanting to go out alone and you were right to protect me. So I’ll give you your space. But don’t ever think space means I’ve left. You’re still my family and now? You’ve got Beau and his family too.”

“You wanted me to live with you and Beau?” he asked quietly. You blinked a few times, holding up your finger. 

“That’s what you focused on in all that? I just told you-”

“Again, you want me to live with you and your boyfriend?” You rubbed your temple, trying to fight the twitch in your eye.

“No…I want you to live with me…in the townhouse I’m moving into in Helena.” He parted his lips, waiting a moment before tucking them closed.

“So…” He cleared his throat, glancing towards the ceiling. “You aren’t moving in with Beau.”

“Did you pull all this shit because you thought I was about to move in with a man I’ve known for three weeks and suddenly he would be my whole world?” 

“No?” he said, now staring at the chandelier over the foyer. You growled, Tim sighing in response. “He’s your mate, probably your true mate if we’re being honest. I didn’t want to get in the way of your new life. You know me.”

“And you know me.” His gaze traveled downwards, finding your stern face. “Someday, yeah, I will move in with him. Someday you’ll live on your own again. I was a brat last year but I trusted you’d keep me safe always. Trust. Me.”

He swallowed, taking a beat to breathe slowly. “Alright. I’ll go to Boston. I want the bigger bedroom though.”

“Fine.”

“And to keep your pots and pans when you move into Arlen’s someday.” You narrowed your eyes, Tim’s lip twitching up. “I’m joking.”

“You better be. I paid for those,” you said, stepping up two steps, wrapping your arms around him. He returned the hug, resting his chin on your shoulder. “You’ll come with me?”

“Would you help me find a good therapist out there?” You nodded, squeezing him tighter. Tim winced, a huff of air escaping him “Take it easy. I only got shot a few weeks ago.”

“Oh, that was a graze and you bruised your shoulder. You’re fine. Beau got hit worse” You leaned back and smiled. “By the way, we’re going to Houston for Thanksgiving with the whole extended Arlen family. It’s non-negotiable and I will have my boyfriend kidnap you to make you go if necessary.”

“If I say no, it’ll piss you off again, won’t it.”

“You’re so smart,” you said, pinching his cheek. He slapped your hand away as someone knocked on the front door. You jogged down the steps as it opened, a wisp of blonde hair entering view.

“Hello?” Jenny called out, looking to the left before smiling when she saw you. “Hey guys.”

“What are you doing here, Hoyt?” asked Tim, coming to your side. “I thought only Arlen was needed to do in person interviews in Boston.”

“Calm down, slugger,” she said, crossing her arms. “Lucy decided to visit her parents and do her interview in person. I followed her lead and came out to visit a college friend, do the interview here. Beau said you’re moving stuff and I got done early so I offered to help.”

“Thanks,” you said the same time Tim scoffed. You looked back at him, Tim standing there with a raised eyebrow. “What?”

“Come on, Y/N. She’s not here to help you move. She likes Arlen.” You couldn’t stop the laugh that escaped you, Tim tilting his head at Jenny. “Back at his place when Emily thought she smelled something between me and Hoyt? That wasn’t attraction. I knew something was up between her and Arlen and given the way he doesn’t seem to give you puppy dog eyes the way you do him, I’m going to say it’s one sided.”

Jenny frowned, glancing away, crossing her arms. “Fine. I like Beau. I won’t deny it. But I honestly did come here to help pack and get stuff in the pod outside because believe me or don’t, Beau is still my friend no matter who he’s with.”

She turned to you, her face softening. 

“I’m not stupid enough to believe you’d be cool with a woman you know that likes your boyfriend being friends with him. All I ask is you give me a chance to move on from him. If I don’t, I’ll transfer departments to the troopers or county or something.” 

“Alright, you can have your chance,” you said. Tim was about to protest but you beat him to the punch. “But if you do care about him, think about what he wants, okay?”

“I know,” she said, forcing a smile on her face. “So. What can I help with?”

“There’s some Christmas ornaments in the basement I think we missed. Tim, go show her while I finish with the upstairs,” you said.

He grumbled, waving Hoyt to follow after himself. When they rounded the corner and you heard their footsteps down the wooden steps you pulled out your phone, throwing your head back. Still no texts from Beau which meant he was still in his Marshals interview.

Hey. Hope it’s going good over there. Tim and I are almost done at my parents house. Thanks for sending Jenny over to help. Why don’t we get an early dinner after you get done and we can pack up the townhouse tomorrow? Text me when you’re free.

“Y/N? Can you come here for a second?” called Jenny. 

“Coming!”

Beau POV

I let out a deep breath as I exited the small conference room I’d been sitting in for the past seven hours. I cracked my back, nodding to the two Marshals that slipped out beside me. “Sorry to keep you in there so long, Arlen. This whole case is a shit show for us as you can imagine.”

“I understand,” I said to Springs, her junior partner taking a bundle of notepads back into a bullpen of cubicles. “Any luck on finding Teddy yet?”

“The fucker disappeared sometime that morning when you folks took down Douglas Evans and his friends. Evans’ phone indicated he had a check in to a burner, Teddy presumably. Looks like Evans got nervous and told Teddy to get out of Dodge.” Spings led me down a hall, further into their office area. “Teddy and Evans did a pretty good job of making Mr. Barclay look like Hunter.”

We stopped outside a tapped over door, Tim’s name on a placard outside of it. Springs swung it open to reveal a mostly clean office. “Teddy made a mistake though by targeting Tim. Do you see it?”

I looked through the door into the small room, glancing around. It looked like most other law enforcement offices. Files. Computer. Pens. A few awards and commendations on the wall, a picture of Tim and Y/N at the beach on his filing cabinet behind the desk. 

“Huh,” I said, cocking my head. “Didn’t know Barclay was capable of not looking like he’s got a stick shoved up his ass.”

Springs didn’t bother to try and hide her laugh. “He’s actually a pretty nice guy when you get to know him.”

I huffed. Just because he’d warmed up to me didn’t mean he still didn’t like to call me a dickhead every time we talked. A week and a half ago, he and Y/N travelled back to Boston. By the time I’d been discharged from the hospital, I’d found out the FBI and Marshals were in charge of investigating what the hell had happened. All of us had been separated and questioned over and over. Tim and Y/N were “escorted” back to Boston for more questioning while I’d been stuck back in Helena. Y/N and I needed to discuss things, in person, but thankfully the investigation cleared both of them after a few days. One six hour phone call later, Y/N had a lease agreement signed on a townhouse ten minutes from my house, a lengthy email in to her old job requesting her position back and she’d reassured me more than once that Tim was an idiot. She hadn’t cared at all about the age gap, that I was divorced or had a teenager. 

Apparently she had a thing for older guys so suck it Barclay.

“Yeah, well, you’re not mated to his sister either,” I mumbled, Springs snorting.

“Well, those two have been thick as thieves since she was a kid. Teddy wasn’t very present but Tim filled that gap for her,” she said, my eyes roaming over to another picture of Tim and Y/N in obnoxious orange shirts and numbered bibs. I raised my chin, nodding at it.

“The running picture. That’s what gave it away he wasn’t Hunter,” I said, Springs smiling.

“Good job, Arlen. Teddy was also so invested in his cases, he didn’t pay too much attention ot office crap. He never knew that Barclay was our Omega’s in Law Enforcement representative. Encourages them-”

“To join traditionally Alpha related careers. It helps them know that they have no limitations in those fields. We have it out in Helena too.” 

“He volunteered when our previous rep retired. He mostly would talk to middle and high schools, kids in clubs, that sort of thing. He’d always tell a story about how his omega sister beat up an Alpha that broke into their house one night and not to let anyone tell them they can’t do something because of what they present as.”

“You took that as proof of his innocence?” I asked. She shrugged.

“Not completely on it’s own but I’ve know Tim for nearly twenty years. I started a few years before him. He was a friend. Teddy saw him as an angry brute, a powerful tool on dangerous cases. Yeah, Tim is extremely skilled and lethal. But the rest of us knew deep down he was gentle. Above all else, he’s a protector, not an attacker. So no, there’s no world in which I’d have ever believed Barclay wanted to hurt Y/N, no matter what Teddy wrote in those stupid journals. The timeline doesn’t match up anyways.”

“Journals?” She hummed.

“Man was a grade A psycho,” she said, showing me across the hall where a few marshals were each sitting with a filled out notebooks before them. “Teddy was a journaler apparently. Kept daily logs from his teen years up until the day he fled a few weeks ago. He wrote about his kills. The wife is so screwed based on what we’ve found so far. She was a very active and willing participant. Sounds like she might have even been the one calling the shots.”

“Anything about Y/N in them?” She shook her head.

“No, we haven’t gotten that far yet. Still going through when Teddy was in his twenties. There’s a lot of deaths marked natural causes or accidental that he caused. Then there’s some girls who went missing. He wasn’t shy about details. Seems like sometimes the heat triggering went wrong and women with underlying conditions died a little more obviously. Only good thing is we know where the bodies are for the families.”

“Sicko,” I said. Springs handed me a pair of blue gloves from a nearby box. We put them on, Springs guiding us to the end of the table where a few boxes sat, all filled with notebooks. “You’ve been focusing on the earlier stuff?”

“Yeah, we figure start at the beginning, develop the timeline. I’m sure we’ll find information about his plans for Y/N and how he recruited Douglas Evans in the more recent years. Feel free to take a look if you got a minute.”

She checked in with her team as I went to the most recent dated box, peeling the lid off. Most of the notebooks were plain black with the year written on a little white box in the center. I fingered through them, going back in time, pouting at an unlabeled one stuck between 2000 and 2001. 

I pulled it out, Springs noticing. “Got something?”

“Not sure. The wear on this one is much worse than the others, like it was looked at and used a lot more.” I flipped it open, narrowing my eyes. “Springs. This isn’t a journal.”

I held up the first page, her eyes flashing wide at the heading written on top. “Primal candidates?”

“He was looking for his protegé for awhile it seems.” I said, scanning through the list of qualifications they had to have. Alpha. Law enforcement. Attractive. Unmated. 

“That does track. Teddy majored in biology in undergrad. One of his journals mentioned a class where a professor taught about early presentation evolution like heats, going primal, that shit. Seems like that’s when he fixated on it.”

“Probably where he learned about this stuff…” I flipped a page, a picture of a young smiling Tim taped inside. I frowned, glancing through the notes on him.

“Barclay’s on the list?” she asked, peering over my shoulder now.

“He was a potential candidate. Looks like Teddy wanted him,” I said, trailing my finger down to where words like “favorable” and “plan recruitment procedure”. But the most recent dated entry was all different, written in red ink from around the time Y/N met him. “Reject as candidate. Y/N likes the boy. Too suspicious to involve him now. Allow to remain family friend for her benefit. Good babysitter/protector for Y/N when her mother and I go hunting.”

Jesus christ. I stared at the page, shaking my head.

“Did Y/N save him from being a Douglas Evans without knowing it?” said Springs quietly.

“Barclay, you owe that girl more than you’ll ever know,” I mumbled to myself, flipping through page after page of young men and women, all Alphas. Douglas Evans picture popped up, a large PRIMAL written next to his name.

“We really got to find Teddy guy before he attacks again or turns someone,” said Springs, as I got to the end of the book.

“At least the good news is it looks like only Evans was turned,” I said, flipping one more page and freezing. Springs groaned, my heart in my throat.

“Well shit. That one is primal too,” she said, staring at the picture of the young woman. The young, blonde woman with her hair in a side braid, a soft smile on her face. The blonde woman I’d spent the past year working with. The woman I thought was my friend. The woman currently at the Y/L/N residence with Tim and Y/N.

“Jenny Hoyt,” I breathed out, standing up fast.”

“Who’s-”

“Get your Marshals to Teddy’s residence right now! Y/N and Tim are there alone with her,” I said, rushing out of the room and down the hall, nearly crashing into Lucy as she exited her own interview room. 

“Beau? What’s-” I grabbed her hand, pulling her with me.

“Hoyt’s one of Teddy’s protegés and I sent her straight to Y/N and Tim.” 

__________

A/N: Part 7 coming soon!

[hunter-or-the-hunted]

The cliffhanger 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

Primal (Part 3)

Summary: The Arlen residence is under attack but an unlikely hero emerges to save the day. When the dust settles, Beau and the reader need to have a serious discussion and acknowledge what's been hanging over their heads since they met...

Primal Masterlist

Pairing: Alpha!Beau Arlen x Omega!reader

Word Count: 5,300ish

Warnings: language, angst, violence, drugging, serial killers, death, kidnapping, mention of human trafficking

A/N: Picking up with the action in this one and it may have one of my best lines if I do say so myself...

Beau POV

“I’m okay!” she said. Tim looked over at me, giving me a small nod that he had her. Bile crept up my throat but I forced it back down with a deep breath. He would protect her and he’d probably do a better job of it than I ever could. 

“Barlen, I’m too exposed here,” called Tim, clenching his jaw when he stared over to where I poked my head around the island quickly. It was too far in the open to risk to get to the cover of the kitchen cabinets. Just Tim, sure, he could probably make that run but it was risky on his own. With Emily, he’d never make it. He could try to stay in place but we both knew they were exposed to the front of the house if someone made it through the front door. Based on the gunfire coming from that direction, it sounded like that was the goal.

“Cover us!” That was all the warning I got before Barclay was in a crouch, one arm around Emily and lifting her off the ground. He moved faster than I could with her like that, that was for damn sure, practically diving into the small cubby off to the left side of the room where a built in bookcase used to be. “She’s alright!”

“You got shot!” shouted Emily. Barclay winced barely as blood dripped down his right arm. 

“It’s fine. You don’t move unless I tell you, kiddo,” he said, keeping himself between her and the wall, one arm over her protectively. “Any chance you got another weapon on you, Barlen?”

“Just your gun in the backpack,” I called. Tim eyed where it was slung over the back of one of the kitchen chairs, muttering to himself. “No way either of us are making that run.”

“Your officers sound like they’re still firing,” he said, eyes following mine upwards as I saw movement at the top of the stairs. “What the…”

Good. Lord. 

Standing on the top step was the woman of every teenage fantasy I’d ever had. Y/N was all tousled hair, only in underwear and one of my navy t-shirts which when hell had she changed into that? I didn’t remember that on her before. She had a shotgun in her hands and a thigh holster with my own personal pistol on her bare skin.

Move over Ellen Ripley. Y/N Y/L/N was here to dethrone you with a double pump action shotgun in one hand and a 45 in the other. 

“Hope you don’t mind I broke into your gun safe,” she said with a wink. “Anyone comes through the back, I’m about to Sarah Connor this bitch.”

My heart rate skyrocketed, Y/N’s lips quivering ever so as our gazes locked onto one another. Her heat smelled like it’d passed but fuck, I wanted her even more now for some reason. 

Oh shit, Emily was right. There was something else more serious going on here and the middle of a firefight was not the place to dissect that.

“Y/N! Get your ass back in a room!” shouted Barclay.

“Don’t you worry about me,” she said, laying down on the second floor landing, aiming the shot gun at the shot out back patio door. “I got the back covered.”

“Everybody stay where the hell they are,” I said, catching movement out the front window. I turned my direction there, sirens and lights flashing outside, the gunfire quieting. “I think they found the-”

A loud shotgun blast sounded off making my heart jump, a red capsule flying past Y/N’s face and down the stairs. A deep voice shouted, followed by a high pitched whine.

“You shot off my finger!” someone shouted from the back door.

“You got nine more. Put down the gun or I shoot off your balls next.” Y/N bit her bottom lip as I stared at her in amazement. How the hell did she get a shot off like that? Unless her brother had shown her some moves? Tim was grumbling something to Emily, Y/N squeezing one eye shut from where I saw her in the shadows of the upstairs hall, finger on the trigger. “Three. Two-”

Heavy metal hit the hardwoods, Y/N tutting. “Alright, alright!”

“Good choice. Now how many are out there or do I have to shoot off more digits?” 

“Four you bitch,” he snapped. 

“All units, four confirmed assailants at the Arlen residence. One being held at gunpoint in the rear of the house,” I said into my radio.

“We got two in custody out front, boss,” came back through. After a few moments of back and forth, I had a dozen officers chasing through the woods after the last man and the one in the living room was being led out by a sergeant.

“Everyone okay?” asked Jenny as she walked inside the house. I nodded, watching Barclay help Emily to her feet. Y/N jogged downstairs, panic in her eyes when she saw Tim’s blood soaked arm.

“I’m fine,” he said, letting Emily slip past and into my arms. Tim ruffled Y/N’s hair, mumbling softly, showing her the injury. She relaxed slightly, lightly slapping his chest. Emily hugged me tightly, sucking in air when I returned it too harshly, tucking her in close. 

“I’m okay dad,” she said quietly, a thick swallow escaping me as I noticed the torn up fabric of the couch she’d been sat on, now shredded by bullets. Tim shared a quick look in my direction, giving a barely there nod when I mounted a silent thank you.

Jenny walked over to the back door, examining the damage. Tim peeled away from Y/N, touching a hand to her forehead, likely sensing her heat was gone as well. “Heard you wanted to kick me in the nuts, blondie.”

She scoffed, rejoining us in the kitchen, crossing her arms. “Well you got that baby graze on your arm there. I think that’s more than you can handle for one night.”

“Don’t go soft on me now, Hoyt,” he shot back, narrowing his eyes.

“I will cuff you,” she growled. Tim only smirked, Y/N shaking her head in the background.

“You into that kind of thing, Jenny?” he teased. 

“Get yourself looked at by a paramedic, jackass.” She grabbed his good arm, yanking him towards the front of the house. 

“I’m sorry for him,” said Y/N, setting the shotgun down on the kitchen table gently. “Tim deflects when he’s hurt or scared and that was a lot just now.”

“Sounded more like he was flirting,” I said, Emily turning out of my chest and humming her agreement. 

“Maybe but I know he’s pretty on edge.” I nodded, Y/N pushing her messy hair back, breathing deeply.

“That was something else,” I said, Y/N turning her face away. “No wonder you got away from Hunter. You’re tough as hell.”

“Sorry,” she said again, focusing on Emily, a sliver of wetness in her eyes. “I’m so sorry I brought this mess to your home and put you both in danger. I’ll find a way to pay for all the cleanup or whatever you need. I promise. I’ll make it right.”

“Barclay saved Emily’s life,” I said, running a hand over her head as she tucked herself under my arm, wrapping both arms around my waist tightly. “You, you saved all of ours by, ‘Sarah Connoring this bitch’ to use a phrase.”

Y/N smiled, looking down shyly.

“We owe you two, not the other way around.” I rubbed Emily’s back, kissing the top of her head. “We’ll be right back, Y/N. Em, let’s go get your bag and get you out of here.”

Reader POV

Your adrenaline was crashing, the sudden realization that you were in your underwear washing over you. Quickly you set Beau’s thigh holster on the table and grabbed Tim’s backpack from the back of a chair. After a short trip to the downstairs bathroom, you’d changed into your go-bag clothes. A pair of athletic black leggings with pockets, a clean sports bra, socks, undies, and a plain dark gray t-shirt. When you exited, the house was mostly quiet, a few officers standing around the back in the living room, taking pictures of the shattered glass and blood from the guy you’d shot.

You sighed as you took in the mess and made a mental note to stop at a bank sometime tomorrow to write him a check for the damages. By the front door you found your sneakers, slipping them on, pausing when a whiff of strong musk floated past. You stood, looking around for Beau, heart rate picking up. You swallowed and put a hand over your bonding gland, walking a few steps over to a coat rack on a wall. 

You thought those feelings for him would have passed when your heat did but it was still there, that desire deep rooted in your bones. Your cheeks flamed with heat when you recalled how he’d looked at you when you came out in his shirt and a shotgun. He probably hadn’t even noticed the way his jeans had tightened but you sure as hell had.

“Hey,” said Beau when you stepped outside on the front porch a moment later. The night air was much colder now, your hands shooting to your arms to rub the chill away. “You changed.”

“Sorry I took your shirt before. I was…” you trailed off. How exactly were you supposed to say you couldn’t help but steal his clothes full of delicious Alpha scent while you rode out a heat in his bed? 

Or how you’d stuffed that same shirt in your go-bag for reasons you didn’t want to acknowledge.

“S’all good. Wait here one sec.” He disappeared inside, your eyes tracking the numerous cop cars and ambulances lining Beau’s long driveway. Off to the left you spotted Tim sitting at the back of an open ambulance with his shirt off. Dr. Olson stitched up his arm, thankfully only grazing his bicep and not tearing right through. You gave him a small wave from the porch, Tim raising a finger that he was alright in response.

Jenny was close by him, hands on her hips as she spoke. Tim rolled his eyes at her, flipping her off, Jenny’s hands going ot her hips. A tiny giggle came from nearby, your head turning to catch Emily sitting in an adirondack chair further down the porch.

“Those two either hate each other or they flirt like a pair of morons,” she said. You smirked, taking a seat in the chair next to her, letting out a sigh as the cold wood touched your bare arms. 

“My brother doesn’t date Alphas and she strikes me as wanting something more than a hookup at this point in her life. So I guess hate it is,” you said, the wood creaking, eyes drifting upwards to find Beau standing there with a hooded black jacket and the thigh holster, a small pistol inside.

“Thank you,” you said, standing and putting the heavy jacket on, Emily giving her father a strange look.

“You could give her one of my coats you know…” Beau shrugged and I secretly was grateful to be wrapped up in his scent again. 

“It’s not going to fit perfect but it’s from around twenty years ago when I was smaller,” he said, ignoring Emily. It smelled like him, Beau’s fingers on the zipper, tugging it up. You flickered your eyes up to his, a rush through your veins he no doubt felt as well. “It uh, it’s durable and will keep you warm. If you get into trouble, you’ll be cold but won’t freeze to death in the mountains unlike a certain someone’s apparel over there.”

“Know it all,” she grumbled, an officer stepping up on the porch, giving Beau a nod.

“Emily,” said Beau, letting his hand linger on your sleeve for a moment longer than necessary before going to her. He knelt down in front of her, a heavy sigh leaving her. “It’s time to go, baby. You got a flight leaving in about 90 minutes. Pop’s going to take you to the airport and stick with you in Seattle.”

“I want to stay here with you.” You started to back away to give them their privacy but Beau caught the fabric of your sleeve. 

“I know you do and believe me, I want you where I can see you too.” He sighed, rubbing her hand. “But take it from Y/N, it’s no fun to be looking over your shoulder all the time. The men that came here tonight were not that Hunter man I told you about. They were from Stormy’s.”

“The biker gang?” she asked. Beau hummed as I frowned. Shit. So this had nothing to do with being attacked earlier in the night? 

“You know what they do to young omega girls?” She nodded, looking down. “I need you out of town until I know you’ll be safe here. I can’t…protect you on my own.”

He lowered his head, breathing deeply. Something about it made your heart lurch, your hand reaching for his shoulder. He leaned into the touch, Emily catching the subtle movement.

“What’s your phone number?” you asked her, both of them looking up at you. You dug out a burner phone from the backpack, handing it to her. “I can text you wherever you go, let you know how things are going and that your dad’s okay. I mean, between me and Tim watching his back, he’s going to be just fine. We’ll have all this mess wrapped up soon I’m sure.”

She took the phone, tapping away as Beau gave you a brief smile. You backed away a few steps when she handed it back, letting them have some space. Beau mumbled something to her before embracing her in a hug. 

“I’ll call you in a few hours after you land,” he said, Emily reluctantly grabbing her bag. She went over to an officer, Beau stopping by your side as she climbed inside a black and white. “You think I’d be able to convince Tim to go be her bodyguard until this is over?”

“He’d do it in a heartbeat if you asked.” He raised his eyebrows. “You’re meeting him on a bad night. He’s normally not so much of an asshole. Do you want me to go ask him to go with Emily?”

“No,” he said quietly. “Those boys from Sharkey’s weren’t after Em. They wanted me. We’ve been having problems with them the past six months. This was just…bad timing.”

“Tim knows protective custody inside and out. He started out working wit sec in the Marshals.” 

“I read his file,” said Beau, crossing his arms. He gave a small wave as Emily held up a hand from the passenger seat of a cruiser. “That’s my buddy, Pop with her. I just need her out of here.”

“So now what do we do?” He ran a hand through his hair, leaning back against the wooden post of the porch. You swallowed thickly, Beau not realizing how darn right sexy he looked. “It can’t just be bad timing that these Sharkey guys came shooting up your house tonight of all nights.”

He blinked, tilting his head. “You said you went past Sharkey’s when you were escaping Hunter, ran into a few guys outside, right?” 

“Yeah. Why?” Beau bit the inside of his cheek, gaze locked onto the bruised side of your neck. You placed a hand over it, Beau finally finding your face.

“Your forced heat…Doc Olson tell you what we figured out?” You nodded. “You could smell your heat for blocks. It was…alluring. You sent a few Alpha’s at nearby businesses into their first ruts actually.”

You felt heat in your cheeks, remembering how pleasant he smelled as you laid on that sidewalk in pain. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry,” he quipped. You rubbed your arm, trying to understand his point. 

“So I smelled good? And you think that’s why those Sharkey’s guys came here? For me?”

“I think those guys have questionable moral compasses but even they aren’t stupid enough to attack a cops home. Unless they couldn’t help it. You notice how that one that got in the house didn’t stop shooting until you came downstairs? Your scent had calmed down since your heat had passed.”

“I don’t follow.” 

“I think I do,” said Jenny, Tim following along right after her. She gave him a dirty look, Tim shooting it right back. “There was a brawl at Sharkey’s tonight. A big one. Those guys are dicks but they don’t fight with each other.”

“Someone drugged them with rut enhancer,” said Tim, his arms covered in goosebumps. You started to shrug out of your jacket, Tim quickly shaking his head at you.

“Most likely. Which means Hunter somehow drugged the whole bar so they’d come after Y/N. Question is why go through all that trouble?” asked Jenny. “Hunter would want to watch Y/N die, not get claimed. No offense.”

“Because they would come after me,” you said, looking around them all at the cops all milling about the yard, walking around, talking on radios. “Hunter knew I was here, at a cops house. He knew Sharkey’s guys would come looking for me all drugged up and that we’d hold them off until backup came.”

“To Jenny’’s point, why?” asked Beau. Tim’s breath hitched, your head nodding. “What? What do you two know?”

“Hunter likes to watch his victims suffer you said,” said Tim. Beau and Jenny shared a look but nodded. “Barlen, Hunter is one of those people out there. A cop, EMT, firefighter, sheriff, highway patrol. They set this whole thing up. Hunter saw the Sharkey’s boys confront Y/N on the street. He knew he could use them to get close to her again.”

“That is insane. I know these men and women,” said Beau. Tim got in his face, his jaw clenched. 

“And we both know who else has to be involved. Unless you were lying to fuck with me before.” The two men stiffened, the threat of a fight in the air. Jenny pushed Beau back the same time you forced Tim backwards.

“What the hell are you talking about?” you asked. Tim ignored you, Beau breathing hard.

“Hoyt, I want a team of six officers, people you know. Only people you know have lived here more than a year. Understand? No one except this team or us three is allowed near Y/N until further notice,” said Beau. Jenny took off before he was pointing a finger at Tim. “Y/N is my priority and I will not jeopardize her. Period. Don’t insinuate shit after I just trusted you with my daughter’s life.”

“No,” you said when Beau turned to leave. You grabbed his wrist, holding it tightly. Both men could easily slip away but you held on hard. “Stop your Alpha bullshit you two. What is going on? Who’s this other person you’re talking about?”

“Barlen’s a cop,” said Tim, narrowing his eyes, Beau’s scent developing a sharp edge to it, Tim’s matching it in response. “He was in the area when you were attacked. He can’t stop undressing you with his eyes. For all we know, Barlen is Hunter or working with him.”

“Oh grow up, Timothy,” you said, pushing him hard on his good shoulder. He frowned, rubbing it. “His damn daughter was in this house getting shot at. If he was Hunter, he’d have fucking killed you already and taken me. Get off your overprotective high horse and realize I am not a child anymore. Men look at me. I look at them. Beau? He’s ridiculously hot and I’ve been stuck with your ass for a year. I’m a thirty two year old woman. Calm the fuck down and trust me, asshole, or get fucking lost.”

Tim’s face went hard but you saw the tiny waiver to his eyes. Shit. That was too harsh. He had his abandonment issues and you just told him to get lost. He turned and went inside the house, slamming the door along the way. You sighed. Hopefully you could find a way to apologize later before he internalized that shit. The last thing you wanted was for him to doubt you cared about him. 

“I’m sorry,” said Beau. You looked up at him, his shoulders slumped. “I’ve been…confrontational with Tim and my priority is your safety. He clearly loves you and has shown you how to protect yourself. But I discovered something that makes him…questionable to me. I was letting him have some leash earlier in case he was playing me but I think the both of us are having a hard time believing we can completely trust you with each other. I think we’re both being a little too Alpha and I’m sorry. It’s unprofessional of me.”

“He would never hurt me,” you said gently, relaxing your grip on Beau. “I know you don’t trust him but trust me.”

“He could be playing you,” said Beau but even he didn’t sound like he truly believed it. You shrugged.

“You’re right. He could. He could be Hunter. He could have a dark side to him I don’t know. But I know his soft sides. His secrets. Maybe he has more. Maybe he’s evil deep down. I truly don’t know. But he also shielded your daughter. Hunter from what you’ve said, he likes to see Omegas suffer. I’ve known that man since I was eleven. He’s always been my protector and he is terrified of losing me because he knows I’m the only person on this planet that loves him. I’d bet my life on the fact he isn’t Hunter.”

“Okay then,” said Beau, taking hold of your hand. “I trust you so I trust him.”

“Thank you.” He bit his bottom lip, his large hand warm around yours. You glanced down at it, rubbing the back of his skin, a slight roughness to it, a callus around his trigger finger. “I’m going to be blunt Beau because it’s been that kind of a day. Do you like me? Cause I’m picking up a vibe.”

He smirked, a tinge of pink dotting the top of his cheeks. “My scent give it away? Or the way I keep breaking the rules to make sure you’re close.”

“It was a little hard not to notice how you smelled when I came down the stairs with that shotgun,” you said, Beau flickering his gaze to meet yours.

“I forget Omega’s sense of smell is heightened right after a heat,” he said, licking his lips. His chest rose and fell slowly, the air stilling. Your heart rate slowed down, Beau tilting his head. “I think my body knows something my head doesn’t yet if that makes sense.”

“It does,” you said, Beau moving his thumb over the top of yours. 

“That why you stole my shirt and can’t keep sniffing the collar of that jacket?” You bit your bottom lip. Beau moved his hand to your face, running his thumb over your lip until you released it. “Keep them. I like that they make you feel better.”

“This is probably just a whole you saved me thing so you feel protective and I like the hot guy that saved me,” you said, his thumb moving down to trace along your jaw. Your breathe hitched, Beau pausing his movements. “S’just sexual attraction.”

“Thought you weren’t going to lie to me anymore, Y/N.” You let out a breath, forgetting how to inhale under the intensity of his green eyes. 

“I don’t believe in true mates,” you whispered, Beau nodding.

“Neither do I. I think you can have more than one soulmate and it’s unfair to think you can only have one true love. Love’s too boundless to be limited like that.” You swallowed as he dropped his a fraction, tentatively reaching out to brush his knuckles over your bruised bonding gland. “Now the idea that you can have more than one true mate? Fate…that kind of fate I can believe in.”

“You think fate put us together?” you asked. He chuckled, shaking his head as a spark shot through you, your bonding gland pulsing under the skin.

“I think a lot of crap had to happen to me and a lot had to happen to you so that I was on that street with medicine you desperately needed at that exact moment in time. And normally I’d chalk that up to coincidence.”

“But?” you pondered, Beau rubbing over the gland, a soft sigh slipping past your lips.

“I ain’t never met a woman like you. One that helps my daughter be at ease all while acting like she belongs in an action movie and is loyal to a guy that seems like an asshole to everyone he meets. You escaped a serial killer and you’re scared yet I don’t see you hiding. You’re strong and being hunted and you come apologize to me like this is all your fault…and the way you smell, I have an awful feeling I’d follow you straight into hell without a second thought.”

“Doesn’t mean we’re true mates,” you breathed out. “Just…” you closed your eyes as he stroked your bonding gland. “Goddamn it, Beau. If you don’t stop doing that I’m going to drag you in that house and bite you in your damn gland.”

“Funny. This has no affect on people that aren’t mated already,” he said, stepping into your space, warm breath fanning down over your face. “If I told you that you and Tim could leave right now, would you be able to? Would you be able to walk away from me?”

“No,” you whispered, turning your face into his neck, inhaling his scent, letting it fill your veins. The more you got of it, the more you wanted it. Your hand fisted his jacket, pulling him in tight, your mouth kissing over his gland. “I barely know you.”

“I think you’ve gotten enough of a taste of my character tonight just like I’ve gotten yours,” he mumbled, pressing his nose against your hair, inhaling sharply. “Slow it down. We got time.”

“I want…” You let your teeth scrape over his skin, your head thumping with the need to sink in, to make that sparking connection between you solid.

“I want it to. But calm down. We have bigger problems tonight than figuring us out.”

“You’re right,” you said softly, Beau nodding, a tiny smirk in his voice.

“But my pup smells something between us for sure.”

“Emily scented…” you trailed off when he hummed. “I thought pups could only smell that between mates.”

“Anyone in a five mile radius of you two could tell you were scent mated.” You turned your heads, Tim on the other end of the porch sporting a black t-shirt and dark gray jacket. He narrowed his eyes at Beau, watching you pull apart. “Keep it in your pants, Barlen. She’s got enough shit going on without getting an Alpha tonight on top of it.

“Is that my-”

“Yup,” said Tim, cutting him off, pushing the jacket aside to reveal Beau’s larger handgun on his hip. “Considering you took mine and left it at the station, figured you wouldn’t mind I borrowed this from your gun safe.”

“Does she have her own weapon?” Beau asked, glancing down at you. Tim furrowed his brow.

“Our go-bag only has one. Hers is back in town where we’re staying.” Beau nodded. Tim reached behind himself, pulling out the thigh holster and pistol you’d sat on the kitchen table. You took it after Beau nodded, strapping it onto your thigh.

“Y/N, based on what I saw, I’m going to trust that you have some weapons training?” You nodded. “Good. Keep that weapon on you from now on.”

“Isn’t scent mating rare?” you asked quietly to Beau, Tim rolling his eyes. 

“You have a literal serial killer on your ass and you’re worried about how you and your little boyfriend got together?” You frowned up at Tim, his harsh glare flickering ever so slightly.

“Hey,” barked Beau, loud enough a few heads turned to where you three stood. He waited until they went back to their business, keeping his voice low, thick with a layer of Alpha gruffness. “If you’re going to be a dickhead, you can go sit in the damn station doing research. Better yet, I’ll put your ass in lock up. Otherwise, do what she said and grow up. She didn’t ask to scent mark me today and I didn’t ask for it either. But we did and that’s that. Apologize and then tell Y/N what I told you.”

“Not man enough to tell her yourself? What a wonderful boyfriend you’re going to be. I guess I should be grateful scent marking don’t mean you’re bonded because there’s no way in hell you’re ever mating her.” Beau stepped in his face, growling slowly. A clear sign to back off. Tim didn’t back down though, not that you expected him to. He pressed his nose flat against Beau’s snarling back. “Tell her yourself, coward.”

“I may have scent marked with your sister but you’re her brother and this will hurt her. You know that.” Beau’s scent spiked with hormones, one’s you’d only ever smelled on Tim when a guy at a shady motel was giving you the creeps or when someone at bar wasn’t taking no for an answer. “Get your head out of your ass and get over the scenting shit. Tell her the truth and do it gently. Now.” With a quick squeeze of your hand, Beau stepped away and over to where Jenny had a group of officers around her. 

“Tim. What’s he talking about?” He looked past you, looking out at some dark trees in the distance. “Are you that mad I scent marked with a guy? Seriously-”

“Of course not. You think I don’t want you to find someone? Any other day I’d tell you, sure, that guy is probably everything you want in a man and more. But scent marking is always, always, a precursor to mating which you do not have time to fuck this guy when someone wants you dead.”

“It’s scent marking, not a marriage vow.” He scoffed. “Timothy-”

“Have you ever, ever heard of two people that scent marked that didn’t bond? That didn’t get married?” You frowned up at him, Tim putting his hands on his hips. “You just found your freaking husband.”

“Then be happy for me and trust that I will keep it in my pants until this shit is over. You might not see it but he is not going to hurt me.” Tim closed his eyes, inhaling through his nose. “Scent marking isn’t true mates. It just means-”

“Your bodies picked each other, I know. I’m sorry,” he sighed, sitting you down in one of the adirondack chairs. He knelt down, breathing deeply. “Whatever you decide to do is up to you, but please, just wait until it’s safe.”

“There go my plans to go on a late night date with Beau.” Tim gave you a bitch face. “You deserved it.”

“I did,” he said, your gaze wandering to where Beau chatted with some officers by a cop car. 

“What do you need to tell me, Tim?” Tim took both your hands in his, a look on his face making your annoyance disappear in a flash. “What’s wrong?”

“I need to tell you something about your father.”

______________

A/N: Part 4 coming 6/1!

[hunter-or-the-hunted]

#denial is a river in egypt

[hunter-or-the-hunted]

The plot twist at the end!! Something I definitely wasn't expecting but definitely loved! Poor dean trying to stay quiet while someone's in the next stall was great! Another one of your stories that I absolutely love!

I'm Tellin' Ya

For @chevroletdean 500 celebration!!🎉

Congrats again love! You deserve it!

Warnings: Language, Drinking, Smut, Oral (M. Receiving) Talk of violence,

Summary: Dean's having a bad day, luckily he finds someone to help turn his frown upside down.

Word count: 640-ish

Special thanks to @copperboom82 thank for your beta skills and your support 🫶

"The silver Coin?" Sam asked, reading the sign to the bar out loud when Dean pulled in the parking lot.

Dean shrugged. "What? It's the closet bar to the motel. As along as they have booze and babes I'm down," Dean quipped climbing out of the Impala.

Sam rolled his eyes. "Go, have your fun. I'll meet you back the motel."

"Come on, Sam. You need some fun in your life."

"I'm good," he called back, already walking in the direction of the motel.

Dean shook his head, pushing the front door open. The place was pretty much dead. 'So much for babes,' he thought walking over to the bar.

"What'll it be cowboy?" the bartender asked when he plopped down on a bar stool.

"Whiskey, neat."

The bartender gave him a nod and turned to grab a bottle off the shelf.

"Whiskey, huh?"

Dean’s head turned in the direction the pretty voice came from. He looked her up and down, she was stunning, bright blue eyes and hair to match, that low cut top shirt showing off just the right amount of skin. He knew she wasn't sitting there a second ago, no way he would have missed her.

"You must be having a bad day," she quipped with a smile.

He gave her a smirk back. "You could say that again, sweetheart."

"Hm…" she hummed moving closer. "Any way I could help make it better?"

Dean looked down, his fingers twisting in her blue hair as he started bucking his hips, making her pretty little lips drag up and down the shaft of his cock.

"Fuck… just like that," he breathed, raising his head when the speed of his hips quickened. "You gonna be a good girl and swallow every ounce?"

The vibrations of her muffled mhmm sent shivers down his spine, making him moan again. The music boomed into the bathroom when someone opened the door. Dean flinched, but she didn't care, her head finding a rhythm once his hips stopped.

His hand flew to his mouth, biting down hard as the tension in his spine started to build. He was going to come, in some stranger's mouth, with another stranger in the stall next to him. How the fuck did he even end up in this position?

The thoughts dissipated as her mouth guzzled on the tip of his dick while her hand pumped the shaft. "Fuck..." he mumbled into his head.

Dean let out a light groan when he heard the faucet turn on. "Don't you dare fucking stop," he demanded, his words making her suck harder, stroke faster.

Once he heard the roar of the bass get loud again he let go, coating her throat with his warm seed. "Damn, baby you can sure suck a mean dick," he managed through breath pants.

"So," Sam spoke up once they were away from the police officers at the crime scene. "You wanna tell me what the hell happened to you last night?"

Dean smirked. "Met this chick - oh Sammy, the things she could do with her mouth."

"Please stop talking," Sam snipped, handing his brother a pair of rubber gloves.

"All right, but I'm tellin’ ya-"

"I said please."

"Fine," Dean said with an eye roll. "So, wife goes crazy, bashes her husband's brains in with a sledgehammer."

"And you're still not convinced this is our thing?" Sam questioned.

"People go crazy all the time. Maybe she found his Ashley Madison account," Dean suggested with raised eyebrows.

"Or maybe…" Sam started, running his hand under the mattress, pulling out a hex bag when he found it, "there's a witch involved."

"You got lucky."

"Can't you just admit that some times I'm right?"

"Okay smart one, how do we find this witch?" Dean challenged.

Sam smirked, holding up a thin strand of hair. "Does this look blue to you?"

Dean Tag List:

@nightxcreature @kamisobsessed @perpetualabsurdity @barnes70stark @wonderland2022

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[hunter-or-the-hunted]

James Buchanan Barnes for president!

[hunter-or-the-hunted]

Sir you are the most perfect man in the world 😤❤🧡

Why do girls have crushes on me?

I mean, I’m just a guy who has a metal arm, can barely remember how to use modern technology, and trip over my own feet on a regular basis.

Maybe it’s the whole ‘I’ve been through a lot and survived’ thing? Or maybe it’s the unintentional charm that comes with being completely unaware of how I look most of the time.

Either way, I’m not complaining, but someone explain it to me because I’m genuinely lost.

[hunter-or-the-hunted]

this blog hates donald trump

Look how many people hate him. I’m pretty damn happy about that 😁😁😁😁😁😁

[hunter-or-the-hunted]

70 horrible questions ... Fuck it

01: Do you have a good relationship with your parents? 02: Who did you last say “I love you” to? 03: Do you regret anything? 04: Are you insecure? 05: What is your relationship status? 06: How do you want to die? 07: What did you last eat? 08: Played any sports? 09: Do you bite your nails? 10: When was your last physical fight? 11: Do you like someone? 12: Have you ever stayed up 48 hours? 13: Do you hate anyone at the moment? 14: Do you miss someone? 15: Have any pets? 16: How exactly are you feeling at the moment? 17: Ever made out in the bathroom? 18: Are you scared of spiders? 19: Would you go back in time if you were given the chance? 20: Where was the last place you snogged someone? 21: What are your plans for this weekend? 22: Do you want to have kids? How many? 23: Do you have piercings? How many? 24: What is/are/were your best subject(s)? 25: Do you miss anyone from your past? 26: What are you craving right now? 27: Have you ever broken someone’s heart? 28: Have you ever been cheated on? 29: Have you made a boyfriend/girlfriend cry? 30: What’s irritating you right now? 31: Does somebody love you? 32: What is your favourite color? 33: Do you have trust issues? 34: Who/what was your last dream about? 35: Who was the last person you cried in front of? 36: Do you give out second chances too easily? 37: Is it easier to forgive or forget? 38: Is this year the best year of your life? 39: How old were you when you had your first kiss? 40: Have you ever walked outside completely naked? 51: Favourite food? 52: Do you believe everything happens for a reason? 53: What is the last thing you did before you went to bed last night? 54: Is cheating ever okay? 55: Are you mean? 56: How many people have you fist fought? 57: Do you believe in true love? 58: Favourite weather? 59: Do you like the snow? 60: Do you wanna get married? 61: Is it cute when a boy/girl calls you baby? 62: What makes you happy? 63: Would you change your name? 64: Would it be hard to kiss the last person you kissed? 65: Your best friend of the opposite sex likes you, what do you do? 66: Do you have a friend of the opposite sex who you can act your complete self around? 67: Who was the last person of the opposite sex you talked to? 68: Who’s the last person you had a deep conversation with? 69: Do you believe in soulmates? 70: Is there anyone you would die for?

[hunter-or-the-hunted]

[hunter-or-the-hunted]

This was amazing! I love how Dory knew they liked each other, I definitely see her taking credit for them getting together when/if they get married and have a family! Great story as always though!

Strings

Summary: The reader's been assigned to watch over Dory Shaw when she runs into trouble. But when her big brother, Colter, shows up in town, things in the case are about to take a dramatic turn...

Pairing: Colter Shaw x reader

Word Count: 5,100ish

Warnings: language, serial killers, drugging, smidge of violence, innuendoes galore, not so implied smutty times

A/N: Welcome to my first ever Colter one shot! Please enjoy and let me know what you think and if you want more Colter! 😊

________

“So that’s the brother that does the reward thing you told me about?” Dory hummed beside you at your hightop, smirking at you. “What?”

“Nothing. You’ve only been drooling over him the past hour.” She gave her brother a wave from where he was getting the three of you refills at the bar. You scoffed, crossing your arms. “Defensive pose. I must be totally wrong, hm?”

“So what if he’s hot? I wasn’t drooling.” She shuddered. “You have hot brothers, Dory. Live with it. It’s a shame how you turned out. Your poor parents.”

“Screw you,” she said, flipping you off with a smile. You only grinned, stealing one of the cold fries from the basket before you. “I thought you swore off men anyways.”

“I swore off boys. Douchebags that don’t want commitment. Men? Men, I’m okay with.”

“Ain’t that the fucking truth,” she said, Colter wearing a pleasant smile as he returned with three bottles. 

“Ladies,” he said, setting one down in front of each of you before taking a seat. 

“So how long are you-” Dory groaned when he phone started to buzz. “Oh, come on. It’s fucking Hendricks.”

“Yikes,” you said, taking a sip as Colter frowned.

“Who’s Hendricks?” he asked, Dory answering and walking away to a quiet corner of the bar.

“The department chair. They’ve been having a problem with one of the professors and keep asking Dory to cover his night classes last minute,” you said. Colter frowned, keeping his thoughts to himself. Slowly you brought the lips of your ice cold bottle to your lips, taking a baby sip, Colter’s gaze on Dory’s agitated form. “What did you study in college?”

“I never went,” he said, Dory approaching again with her phone by her side. She gave you a look. She had to go. Colter picked up on it as she faced him, an apology in her eyes. He only softly returned a smile, hiding his disappointment well. “Go to work. I can stick around town a few days.”

“Really?” she asked, her voice so young sounding, a little girl’s spark in her eyes. 

“Of course, kiddo,” he said, handing her the black bag on the table belonging to her. “We’ll get dinner at your place tomorrow.”

“You’re serious? You’re not going to run off in the night?” He shook his head, hiding the flash of pain on his face. Dory only smiled, pecking a kiss on his temple. “Alright, I’ll text you later. Oh, and Y/N totally thinks you’re hot. Have fun!”

“Dorian!” you screeched at her as she happily scurried away, heading out the bar entrance. Your face felt hot as you turned back to Colter, he eyes suddenly narrowed. “Uh, she was just joking-”

“You have five seconds to explain who you are and why that man by the door followed her out. Five. Four,” he said, already getting to his feet. “Three-”

“Protective custody,” you grit out. Colter took two steps to be by your side, leaning down to your ear.

“How many are covering her?”

“Three at all times. One of us is always by her side. That call was a cover. She has to go into the agency for a debrief,” you said quietly. You felt his hot breath over the back of your neck, your skin prickling. “Back off, Shaw.”

“You’re going to tell me what’s going on, right now.” You growled, pushing out your seat and standing, forcing him to take a step back, if only so. 

“Not here.” You left without waiting for him, Colter right on your heels though. You stopped by your SUV in the parking lot, Colter crossing his arms. With a sigh, you put your hands on your hips. “You’re not going to let this go, are you.”

“The only reason I didn’t storm out after Dory is because I believe you. Now what is my kid sister involved in?” You shook your head, Colter tilting his own back. “I will not interfere but you need to tell me. Or else, I’ll go poking on my own and then I very well might end up interfering which you don’t want. Talk.”

“You would never risk putting her in danger so no, you won’t do anything. You are going to get in your truck, go sleep in your camper and tomorrow, hang out with your sister and me, her old friend from college that’s visiting until further notice. Got it?” you snapped. He looked you up and down, searching for a weapon maybe? He’d never find the small pistol in the back of your waistband though. “Shaw, I told you to go.”

“You need to be better at your job,” he said, reaching around his back and pulling our a small pistol. Your small pistol. Your hand shot to your back, now feeling very flat. 

“How-”

“I distracted you in the bar.” He flipped the gun around, holding the grip out to you. “I’m sure you know all about our family. If someone is after her, I can find them. You know I can.”

“You think you can do a better job than the FBI?” you scoffed, taking your weapon back. He shrugged. It was maybe a sliver of cocky but you knew he had the record to back it up. 

“I think if you don’t find this guy soon, the case will go cold and the FBI will not waste so many agents time. You’ve probably got what, a team of seven people covering her?”

“Four now,” you mumbled, his eyes flashing wide for a brief moment. “Maybe a few agents have been pulled the past few days but we wouldn’t leave her to fend for herself.”

“How long before that team drops to two? To one? Before they force her into witness protection or this bastard finds her first?” You tucked your gun away, Colter tilting his head to the side. “You know what’s going to happen? You’re going to be the last agent left and either you both get killed, you do and she goes into witness protection or she does and you have to live with the fact you failed her. You seem capable of defending her but if this person is as dangerous as you make it seem, you are going to need all the help you can get.”

“Go to your camper,” you said, opening the drivers door, Colter making a face. “I’ll be there in thirty minutes.”

“Cozy,” you said, stepping into the airstream forty minutes later. You’d changed into a pair of jeans and an oversized hoodie from college. Colter pouted from the kitchenette area, nodding to the table. You tucked yourself in along with your backpack, tugging out your laptop and files before he set a beer down in front of you. “I ordered us a pizza. Should be here soon. You’re paying.”

“Of course I am,” he said, taking the seat across, spinning your folders around and opening one as you got your computer booted up. He barely glanced at the thing before you felt his heated stare. You met it quickly, Colter pointing a finger to a picture on the page. “A suspected serial killer? Seriously?”

“She saw him drug a woman at a bar. Gave a good description to locals, it flagged in our system. Two days later, someone broke into her house. Luckily for your sister, she was covering a lecture that night and wasn’t home.” He ran a hand over his face, closing his eyes. “I know. She’s his next target. Good news is we know what he looks like and have a name. Bad news-”

“Twelve years and he hasn’t been caught?” said Colter. He grabbed his beer, tightening his grip around it but not drinking. Yet. He steadied himself, breathing deeply. “When do you lose sight of him normally?”

“He’s not shy. After a kill, he sticks around the area for a day or so. We get footage of him at coffee shops, stores. We’ll track him to bus stations and then we lose him.”

“He doesn’t take the bus?” You shook your head. Colter pursed his lips, flipping through the pages of your files. “You think he changes appearance in station bathrooms and sneaks out with the crowd?”

“That is the agency’s working theory,” you said, Colter giving you his attention. You were no stranger to working under scrutiny but his intense stare made you feel like you were back in the academy on your first day.

“You disagree with that.” You nodded, turning your computer around, his eyes darting around the screen, pondering the data. “Huh. You think he uses the station as a cover and heads into the sewer system through maintenance.”

“I have…been told this is impossible and there’s no way he has done this in eleven separate cities and no one has been the wiser.” You took the computer back, Colter flipping up a page. “It doesn’t matter. We need-”

“It does and I agree with you. He always goes into the station wearing gray trousers, black boots and a black hoodie. That could easily be covering a maintenance jumpsuit that he uses to gain access and then escape without watchful eyes.”

“But it tells us nothing about where he might be now,” you said. Colter smirked, finally taking a sip of his beer. “I know what you’re thinking but countless stores sell basic jumpsuits.”

“You’re right. But if I were him, I wouldn’t want to get behind the wheel of a car smelling like crap while I get out of town. Now this guy is tall, right? He’s not going to want to walk more than a few miles at most hunched over in a sewer. Let me see your computer.” 

You slid it over, Colter pulling up a map of the city, dropping a pin on the bus station. He typed something and then his phone was ringing, Colter muttering something to someone named Bobby before he hung up. A few seconds passed before he smiled, turning it back to you, a giant red circle on the screen.

“People would notice if a guy came in stinking to a hotel or motel. My best bet, he has a hideaway somewhere in that perimeter. My guy is looking into foreclosures, rentals, abandoned properties. We’ll hear back soon.”

“You could be wrong. You’re making a pretty big assumption based on the fact the guy wouldn’t want to sit in his own stench.” Colter shrugged, holding up his hands.

“I might be. Or I might be right. What’s the harm in looking?” You sat back, crossing your arms, glancing out his wide back window to the darkness beyond.

“I’m meant to be Dory’s handler. I sleep in her house, I am by her side almost twenty four seven. I cannot spend time kicking down doors and I won’t be able to get my boss to approve more field agents to go off on a wild goose chase.” Colter cocked his head, licking his lips. “What?”

“You already figured all this shit out about the perimeter on your own,” he said, leaning forward. You sighed, Colter shaking his head. “They turned you down when you brought it up.”

“Like I said, I’ve been told it’s impossible.” You grabbed your beer, picking at the paper label. “I was the junior lead on the case. I was demoted to protective services when I presented my idea. I was told it was childish and clearly I was not ready for difficult case work. If I go off on my own and they find out, I’m fired.”

“Then we won’t let them find out,” he said. “I have an idea.”

“Well that was mortifying,” you said twenty minutes later after hanging up the phone, Colter smirking from the drivers seat. “Oh, shut up. It was your shitty idea.”

“They seem to have bought it,” he said, still smiling as you glared. “You do this thing with your nose when you get embarrassed.”

You flipped him off, Colter chuckling before heading down the road out of the parking lot and towards the perimeter circle form the bus station. 

“I can’t believe I asked for a night off for a fake date with you,” you mumbled, pressing your fingers to your temple and rubbing.

“Well you were drooling over me at the bar and your little agent friend and Dory seeing it certainly helped.” You smacked his arm, Colter feigning pain. 

“First off, I did not drool. Second, you are objectively attractive and I allowed to appreciate good looking men. Third, you are lucky I’m overworked and my boss was happy I’m taking some time off to recharge.”

“I’m pretty sure I heard your partner say they wished you a happy trip to pound town tonight.” You growled audibly, Colter laughing to himself. 

“One more word and I will arrest you, Shaw,” you said. He held up his hands, that stupid smile still on his face. “Don’t be cocky.”

“Interesting choice of words.” 

“Someone kill me now,” you muttered, crossing your arms over your chest, your vest heavy underneath your hoodie.

“Seriously though, thank you for doing this with me. It’s a lot safer having backup,” he said. You nodded, knowing fully well that if you did find your killer, tonight was most likely your last night as an agent.

“Yeah well…I’m only letting you do this because Dory told us all about how you were raised. You can handle yourself if it comes down to it.” The air was quiet, the jovialness slipping away with a single breath.

“I’m sorry you were laughed out of the room,” he said, turning down a quiet street. “We might not be right but it’s worth investigating.”

“They were looking for any excuse to move me down the ladder after my boss’ son started in the office. He took my old job the little shit,” you said. “Straight out of the academy, never even seen a dead body and he’s working a damn serial killer case.”

“I see you hold no resentment,” he said. You rolled your eyes, Colter clearing his throat. “For what it’s worth, I’d rather have the woman that gives more of a shit about my sister than her job than have the nepo baby ridin’ shotgun.”

“So you know I’ll probably lose my job tonight,” you said, Colter humming. “I won’t if we don’t find the guy.”

“We both know odds are good we’ll find him,” he said, sparing you a look when you stopped a red. He had a look of…softness, a sad smile there. “Thank you for protecting her.”

“Well, at least I won’t have to look at nepo baby’s stupid face anymore. He looks like a smug little prick,” you said. 

“Is he good looking?”

“God no. Ugly as sin like his dad.” Colter chuckled, a quiet one leaving your lips.

“Looks like you got an upgrade then,” he said. “Even if you do drool.”

“Just shut up and drive, Shaw.”

Three hours and twenty eight minutes later, you were staring at the ceiling of a rental house, blood dripping down from your temple from where you’d been pistol whipped in the face. Your body told you to make sound, move, call out for Colter who was at the front of the house. But your lungs weren’t working, the breath knocked out of you.

A dark shadow leered down at you, his eyes narrowed.

“Little miss roommate,” he said, squatting down, pushing the gun that’d fallen from your hands away. He cocked his head, resting a hand over your throat, stopping you from getting the air you desperately needed. He squeezed harder, pushing up your hoodie with the other one, tsking when he saw your vest. “Come on, sweetie. Look at me. Get a real good look at me, Y/N.”

He let you get a rush of air in your lungs as your eyes drifted over. The man looked slightly off somehow as he reached behind his neck. There was a sound of rubber as a synthetic mask was ripped off, a sweaty face appearing underneath that made your eyes go wide. He spun the mask around before setting it down beside him, fixing his hair as he applied more pressure again.

“I know you have questions,” he tutted, patting your face as you squeezed his wrist. “Come on, really?”

 Something sharp pricked your shoulder, a syringe pulled back as you felt your limbs get heavy. He backed off with choking you at least when all you could do was manage a limp grasp of him. 

“That’s better,” he said. “So I-”

He went down the ground hard, Colter standing over his prone form, eyes shooting to you. “He stabbed you with a sedative because this sick fuck likes his victims to be awake. You should be okay.”

“Nepo baby,” you mumbled, Colter tilting his head like he heard you wrong. “Him. Nepo baby.”

Colter got him restrained and tied to a nearby radiator before helping you sit up against the wall. He was shoving a cup of coffee in your hand by the time your attacker was waking up, your body heavy but a few sips of the scalding hot liquid had you feeling a tiny bit better.

“Good morning,” said Colter, his voice way, way darker than you thought it could go. Franklin was fully awake now and staring at you. “I interrupted your monologue before. How rude of me. Continue.”

“I ain’t saying shit-” he said, cutting himself off when Colter pressed the cold barrel of his gun right in Franklin’s crotch. 

“It probably won’t kill you but you’re going to think of me every time you take a piss the rest of your life. So, I’d take a second and really think about the next words out of your mouth because you’ve tried to kill my sister and you’ve tried to kill my friend over there and I am more than happy to pull this trigger if you don’t tell us everything. Now.”

Franklin slammed his head back against the wall, muttering curses to himself.

“His name is Franklin,” you said, forcing yourself to chug back the coffee.

“Franklin,” sang song Colter, his hand grasping Franklin’s chin. “You have three seconds before I start shooting off body parts. Three. Two-”

“I did it! All of it. My dad found out and…”

“Fuck. He protected you,” you spit out. 

“You figured out where I hid so he made you a laughing stock, got you demoted for being crazy. We knew we had to get rid of you so we…set up a failed job. I picked the blonde girl cause I thought she was pretty-”

Colter pressed his gun down hard, Franklin making a guttural sound in response.

“Keep talking,” Colter snarled. Franklin caught his breath, closing his eyes.

“He put you on protective detail and I was going to lay low until he pulled the whole detail except for you and the blonde girl. I was going to make it look like I got the jump on you before I played with the blonde…and you…before I…” he trailed off.

“Play with the blonde? With Y/N?” growled Colter. “That’s my baby sister. That’s my friend.”

“Walk away, Colter,” you said, forcing yourself to your feet. You swiped the gun from his hand and sat down in a nearby chair, aimed at Franklin. Colter didn’t move though, his body like solid steel. “Colter.”

He forced himself away, breathing hard and putting his back to Franklin. You imagined you looked like shit. Your head was pounding and you felt like going to sleep and running a marathon at the same time.

“I want you to call my old partner, Denny Piplin. Tell him everything. He has friends in high places and will make sure a trusted agent is watching Dory when shit goes down in that office.” You handed him your phone, Colter’s eyes darting around your face. “I’m fine.”

“You’re bleeding,” he said, taking the phone. After a moment, his jacket was pressed against your head, his strong hand holding it there as he flipped through your phone contacts. “You need a hospital.”

“I’ll go when this bastard is behind bars,” you said, lifting your chin at Franklin. “And you over there? You don’t make a sound, move a muscle, or else I give him back the gun and let him do whatever the hell he wants with it.”

You swore Franklin didn’t move a millimeter for the next hour while you waited for agents to arrive. An ambulance showed up as they escorted him out to the back of a car, driven away to the field office most likely. You got lucky and your cut looked worse than it was thankfully.

“Hey,” said Colter, taking a seat next to you on the front steps of the house. 

“Hey,” you said, holding an icepack to your head. He shifted and you felt his fingers brush yours, holding the pack in place for you so you could lower you arm. You sleepily smiled at him, Colter returning it. “Were you really going to shoot his balls and dick off?”

“Would you think less of me if the answer was yes?” You shook your head, resting it against his shoulder. “How long until the sedative wears off?”

“A few hours they think. How’s Dory?”

“Fine. She’s back home. Some agents are going to spend the night with her. You old partner picked them himself.”

“Good. Denny’s a good guy,” you said, shivering when a gust of wind caught you. Colter shrugged out of his only slightly bloody jacket, wrapping it around your shoulders. “You were laying it on kind of thick in there with the ‘you hurt my friend’ schtick, you know.”

“It wasn’t a schtick. He was going to do vile things to you too. That pissed me off.” 

“Still, you didn’t have to…” you stopped talking when he sat you upright, his eyes darting to your lips.

“There you go, doing that thing with your nose again,” he said, cupping your cheek. “You deserve to protected too, even if you are a badass, got it?”

You nodded, Colter smiling. “Good girl.”

“You think just because you saved me, you get to kiss me?”

“No, I think I get to kiss you because you think I’m objectively attractive.” 

“Shut up, Shaw,” you said, brushing your lips against his as you heard a squeal nearby that made you both flinch.

“Aha! I so knew you two were into each other!” said Dory, suddenly standing there with Denny trailing behind. “You guys were so eye fucking each other at the bar.”

“Dorian,” groaned Colter as Denny shook his head and came over, giving you a big hug.

“She’s right, he is cute,” he chuckled, earning a slap on the back from you. “What’d I tell you when I retired? Stay out of trouble. What’d you go and do?”

“It wasn’t my fault I’m smart,” you said, a wave of fatigue rolling over you. Colter placed a hand on your back when you wobbled. 

“We need to get her somewhere she can sleep this off,” he said.

“Come on kid, the guest room is all made up.” You were about to protest that he should stay with Dory when Denny cut you off. “I’m sure Colter can handle it. You can see them in the morning.”

“Fine,” you grumbled, both men helping you stand and over to Denny’s truck. They shared a word in private after getting you inside, your eyes drifting shut now that you were in the nice warm cabin.

“Y/N,” said Denny with the thud of a car door. You hummed, not bothering to even look at him. “You need anything?”

“I wouldn’t say no to food truck tacos before I pass out,” you said. 

“That’s my old partner,” he chuckled. “Let’s get you some dinner.”

Two Days Later

“Hey,” you said when Colter pulled up outside Denny’s place in his truck. Between countless meetings at the office, you hadn’t been able to catch up with him and Dory yet. You didn’t miss the way your stomach did a small flutter at seeing him again.

“Y/N,” he said with a subtle smile, walking around the truck, stopping where you were washing your dirt bike at the end of the driveway. “You trail ride?”

“Denny got me into it when I first got paired up with him years ago. He let’s me keep my gear in his garage. I think I might take a trip, hit some trails I always wanted to.” Colter nodded, biting his bottom lip. “Dory told you I quit?”

“Yeah. Not that I blame you,” he said. You wiped off the frame with a towel, Colter picking up the spare nearby and getting the wheel spokes for you. “I was thinking of heading over towards Park City.”

“For a job?” you asked. 

“Play,” he said, standing and handing you the towel. He shoved his hands in his jean pockets, cocking his head and doing that little shrug again. “I’m pretty decent at mountain biking myself you know.”

“Oh, are you?” you said, crossing your arms.

“He’s flirting, moron,” said Denny as he passed you on the way to the mailbox. You shot him your best bitch face, Colter stifling a laugh as Denny returned with a package and some mail in hand. “She’d love to go.”

“Denny! He could be a serial killer!” Denny ignored you, looking over Colter. 

“She’s never been good with boys you have to understand. Always ends up with duds,” he said, Colter nodding with a smirk. “Little bit of a workaholic this one. Probably a good fit for you though. Take her on one of those reward jobs when you two are done with the mountains.”

“Angela!” you shouted, Denny’s wife popping her head up where she worked in the flowerbed by the front of your house.

“Oh he has a point, honey. You are awful with men.” 

“I should have let Franklin kill me,” you muttered, rubbing your temples. Denny dodged your attempt at smacking his arm, laughing as he ran back towards the house. Your face was hot when you found Colter’s cheeky smile. “Let me guess. I’m doing the thing with my nose again.”

“So what if you are?” he teased, looking down at your bike, nodding his head. “If it makes you feel better, I’m pretty awful with women too.”

“I imagine it’s hard to do the relationship thing with a job like yours.” 

“Yeah,” he said quietly, pursing his lips. “We could just…go have some fun for a week. No strings.”

“Is that what you want? No strings?” you asked. For the first time, you noticed a small flush to his cheekbones, his eyes intense as they met yours. “So you can get flustered. Good to know.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said, hiding his shyness behind a cocky smile. 

“Answer the question, Shaw.” He looked up and then over your head.

“I wouldn’t…mind strings…with the right person if that makes sense.” 

“You two can take down a serial killer but you can’t ask each other out? No wonder your generation is screwed,” said Denny, going past again with a dirty car mat in hand. 

“You, quiet,” you said, pointing at him when he flipped you off. “You, Shaw. Park City. Whoever gets down the mountain fastest pays for dinner. Then you take me a reward job and by the end of all that, I think we’ll know how we want things to proceed, got it?”

“Yes ma'am.”

Two Weeks Later

“What are you giggling at?” you asked Colter. He chuckled underneath you in the airstream bed, his arm tightening over your waist. “Are you a giggly cuddler? Is this what I’m discovering?”

“I’m just thinking Dory’s never going to let us live this down when we tell her,” he said, pushing down the sheet on your back to trace up and down your exposed spine.

“I know,” you sighed. “How will she ever live with the fact you’re slow as fuck down a mountain?”

He gently smacked your ass, pointing a finger when you grinned. “You cheated.”

“You’re a sore loser,” you said, his hand brushing the hair out of your face, thumbing over your mostly healed mark on your temple. Your chin rested on his chest, Colter continuing to stroke over the faded scar. “If you’re thinking of telling Dory about us, does that mean you want me to stay?”

“I like the strings,” he said quietly, his warm hands traveling up and down the sides of your body. “This is what it’s like. A job, downtime, a job, downtime. S’all I know.”

“I get that,” you said, lowering your eyes to his chest. “It’s easy to get wrapped up in the job and forget to have a life.”

“Why’d you really quit? They would have promoted you back up I’m sure,” he said.

“They broke my trust. The only person that had my back was you.” He tipped his head forward, kissing your forehead. “I want to stay.”

“Well that’s good considering I wasn’t letting you go.” You smiled when he tucked your hair behind your ear. “So. Ladies choice. We take another job we don’t yet have or we head over to Washington, hit some trails, maybe I show you some rock climbing basics. Or we stay here in bed until further notice.”

“Such hard choices,” you said, Colter grinning and shifting his leg so you felt him poking you in the thigh. You sat upright, narrowing your eyes. “If you make a hard joke, I swear-”

“You’ll what?” he teased, flipping you around, body hovering over yours. You frowned up at him, Colter kissing the tip of your nose. “So you don’t want the bed option?”

“Don’t put words in my mouth, Shaw.” He raised his eyebrows, a dark smirk on his lips that had your hand flying to his mouth. “Do not say it you filthy gutter mind. Nothing in my mouth. Got it?”

“You make it so easy though,” he chuckled, burrowing his face in your neck, kissing under your jaw. You purred, Colter humming. “That’s my girl.”

“Bed. Washington. Job. How’s that sound?”

“Sounds like you like the strings too,” he mumbled trailing his hand down between your bodies. “I can’t blame you. You do drool over me.”

“Why don’t you shut that mouth of yours, Shaw and put it to better use?” you said, slipping your hands to his hips. 

“Whatever you say, beautiful.”

____________

A/N: Let me know what you thought and if you'd like to see more Colter x reader stuff in the future!

[hunter-or-the-hunted]

[hunter-or-the-hunted]

reblog to give dean a giant rainbow slinky for his bday

[hunter-or-the-hunted]

Reblog if you’re over 20 and still read/write fan fiction.

I’m curious!

[hunter-or-the-hunted]

Sam: Dean, here, eat this.

Dean: No! Why? I'm fine!

Sam: Because you're not you when you're hungry, Dean.

Dean: Fine.

Dean:

[hunter-or-the-hunted]

actually all the damn time

@figthoughts @jasvtsc @jwritestuff @jackleslvr @titsout4nicholas @jasvtsc @angelicjackles @a1ecmcdowell @psychicnatural @swe3twitch @soldierboysdoll @soldierboycunt @a1ecmcdowell @frosttbitessam @ostaramoon @angelblqde

[hunter-or-the-hunted]

okay seriously reblog if you're older than 12

COME ON PEOPLE, THERE HAS GOT TO BE MORE. 

[hunter-or-the-hunted]