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bravo4iscool · 5 months

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return (simon “ghost” riley x fem!reader)

fluff, colleagues to lovers (?), singlemom!reader, soft!simon, dad!simon (?), happy (open) end, protective!simon

„You taught him how to do that?“ you asked, your voice on an edge. You didn‘t know if his name really was Simon but everything pointed in that direction. „Did you teach my son how to break noses?“ your voice rose but Ghost stayed calm. „I asked you something! Did you teach him that?“ You were trembling, almost unable to control your anger.

Ghost looked at you and tilted his head. „Yes, I did teach him that. I‘m surprised you didn‘t.“ That only fuelled your anger even more.

or, you’re a retired military operator and ghost decides to spend his leave with you

word count: 6,2k

(masterlist | return pt.2 snippet)

You’ve been done with the military. After years of service and being haunted by death you decided to cut the string and leave. Price wasn’t happy but he knew there was no way he’d be able to convince you to stay, so he let you.

The minute you retired you disappeared from the screen, finding yourself a little farm in Denmark to stay. You were happy there and you saw yourself living there till the end.

You settled down with your son - the result of an unserious one night stand - and slowly started to fade away from the surface.

It’s a sunny summer day and you’re on your way to feed your chickens. It was still early in the morning but you were enjoying it. The mornings were the only time of the day you actually got to relax.

Your son, Louis, was a handful sometimes and you barely got any time alone since you were single parenting. You sure would’ve been able to find the father of your son but you didn’t want to. That one night stand was a pathetic attempt of yours to escape reality. You had nothing left for Louis’ father. You were fine on your own.

You were humming to yourself as you fed the chickens and collected their eggs, moving onto your two cows Martha and Marie. You got them a few years later than the chickens but by now you were used to them. They provided for you and your son and gave a reason less to leave your farm. The less you left, the better.

So, while you were busy milking the cows you noticed something was different. You couldn’t name it yet but your years with the military, especially Task Force 141, taught you to listen to your instincts.

Someone was here.

You let your eyes carefully roam, your hand ready to reach for the pitchfork but then you pause a minute to think. Whoever was watching you had enough opportunities to jump you already and they didn’t. That could only mean one thing. They weren’t here to hurt you. But before you could shrink the choice of people who could be here you decided to go on. You wanted to let them watch you for a bit longer and maybe make a mistake.

So, you stand up, gently petting Martha and grabbing the bucket of warm milk. You would make some butter out of it today.

You put the bucket onto a wood panel, which served kind of as a counter. Then you heard a silent shuffle. It was almost enough to tell you who was standing as good as directly behind you.

“What do you want, Ghost?” You turned around, crossing your arms to look at your former Lieutenant. He was - to your surprise - not wearing any tactical gear but civilian clothing. That confused you.

Why would he creep up onto you wearing anything but his gear? That wasn’t really Ghost-like. But even if he somewhat looked like a normal human being he still had his mask on.

You sighed. “If you’re here to recruit me for some kind of fucked up mission you can leave already. I won’t come. I’ve got better stuff to do.” You faced your bucket of milk again, grabbing a couple of empty bottles to fill the milk into.

You expected Ghost to leave as quietly as he appeared but he stayed. “I’m on leave,” he said and you stopped dead in your tracks.

“You’re what?” You looked at him over your shoulder, barely able to hide the shock and confusement on your face and in your voice.

He shifted, stepping closer to you. “I said I’m on leave.”

You snorted. “And you decided to spend it with barging into my life and waiting for me in my barn at fucking 5 am?”

He looked at you, his eyes almost as sharp as a knife. “You’re the only one I know who isn’t actively in the military.”

You blinked at him. “I’ll give you that,” you then sighed, still confused. “But I wouldn’t say we were the best of friends, were we?”

You always thought Ghost didn’t like you. He barely spoke to you - only if it was necessary - and, well… he wasn’t particularly easy on you anyway. He wasn’t on anybody but it seemed like he pushed you way more than the others. You constantly needed to prove yourself worthy and all that shit. It didn’t really make you like him either.

“I know,” he simply said while looking around. “Can I stay here?” His eyes met yours again. A cold shiver ran down your spine.

You thought for a moment. Normally you wouldn’t have let him stay but you needed a 2nd hand for some repairs on the farm and Louis was way too small to help you. So, technically speaking, Ghost could and probably would be of great use…

So, you answered, “Only if you help around the farm. I have some stuff to repair here and I need a helping hand. Louis isn’t ready to help yet but you’ll do.”

Something flashed in his eyes before he straightened his back and rolled his shoulders. “Okay. Whatever you need.”

You grinned. “Great. Follow me!” You left the barn, the bucket of milk long forgotten. “I only have two bedrooms, one for myself and one for Louis, so you need to sleep on the couch,” you explained with a shrug. You both knew a couch was like luxury on the open field.

“That’ll do,” Ghost grunted, speeding up his steps. For your size you walked incredibly fast. “Who’s Louis?” he then dared to ask, accompanied with him clearing his throat.

“Louis?” you laughed. “He’s my son. Turned 7 a couple weeks ago. He’s still asleep. I hope.” You glanced at Ghost and you didn’t know if you were hallucinating but he seemed to relax at your words.

“Mom… Why is there a scary man standing in our kitchen?” you heard Louis' strained voice. Your head shot up from where you were ducked down, searching for your shoe.

“Louis, darling.” You rushed to his side and saw Ghost staring at your son, completely shocked. “This is Ghost. He’s a…colleague of mine. You don’t need to be scared of him.” You ruffled your son’s hair, gently hugging him from the side. Meanwhile you gave Ghost an urgent look to say something. At least a hello would be nice.

He can’t just stand in your kitchen like a 6’4’’ giant with the build of a fridge, expecting a 7 year old to not be scared of him.

He quickly got your hint and cleared his throat. “Hi Louis,” he said, his eyes looking almost insecure. “I’m Ghost.” He paused again. “Nice to meet you…”

“Why are you so tall?” Louis immediately asked, angling his head to look up at Ghost’s, the fright from moments ago completely forgotten.

“I…don’t know,” Ghost answered, looking down on himself. He was indeed quite tall. Not as tall as König though.

Louis was about to talk again but then you linked yourself in. “I’m sure he just ate really well as a child.” Ghost looked at you when you finished your sentence. Why did you answer for him? He was capable of talking on his own.

You on the other hand thought he didn’t want to answer. You knew he didn’t like to talk about himself and Louis - sadly on this occasion - was very interested in other people’s lives…

Louis turned his head to look at you, then at Ghost. “Do I get as tall as him when I eat all my vegetables?” His eyes were big and you needed to suppress a laugh. He barely even knew Ghost and he already wanted to be like him in a way…

“Of course darling.” You ducked down to whisper in his ear, “Maybe you’ll get even taller.” Louis started to grin and ran off to eat his breakfast. You watched after him with a gentle smile.

When you found out you were pregnant you didn’t know what to do at first but now… Now you enjoyed every single moment with your little boy even if he was a handful sometimes. You just loved him too much to be truly angry at him…

“I can talk for myself, y’know,” Ghost muttered, staring at you. You were shocked for a moment. You just did what you thought was right. Ghost didn’t like to talk about himself.

“I’m sorry. I just…you never liked talking about yourself and-“ you wiped a couple strands of hair out of your face. “-and I know Louis likes to question the shit outta other people. I just tried to help you out.” You looked at Ghost with your arms crossed in front of your chest.

He just grunted and turned away. “Where’s your tea?”

“2nd cupboard from the left,” you sighed. You knew he was difficult at times. Why exactly did you agree to him spending his leave here? You didn’t even know how long he was on leave.

You looked at Ghost. Nothing more. You just looked at him sleeping. He’s been with you for, what, two weeks now and you already asked yourself, if he maybe was on permanent leave?

Back, when you were still with the 141 Price never gave you more than 5 days off. He always said: Terrorists don’t sleep, so why was Ghost still here?

You silently sighed before you retreated into your bedroom. It was weird that he already slept because he was the night in person but maybe you managed to tire him out enough…

You knew you didn’t. He was used to way more stress… He surely just acted like he slept so you would go to sleep. This man was a true mystery to you.

You tossed and turned in your bed, your thoughts dodging any attempt to fall asleep. You thought you were going crazy. Not a single technique you learned in your military days helped you, so you let out a deep sigh and stood up.

You put on some clothes and quietly tapped out of your room. You saw Ghost still laying on the couch, relief washing over you. You didn’t need him to know you weren’t able to sleep, even if he probably felt the same.

You quickly grabbed your jacket and left. Once you were outside your feet found the way on their own while your eyes started to get used to the night. It wasn’t as dark as some nights but you still could barely make out the small way that led you over the dunes.

You pulled your jacket around you, the breeze being colder than you thought. Out of habit you scanned your surroundings, making sure there was nothing suspicious.

After a short walk you reached your destination. A small wooden observation deck on top of one of the dunes. You rarely saw people coming here so this quickly turned into your place to go when you needed to be on your own.

You leant against the railing, your eyes focused on the beach and the restless sea in front of you. You felt how you immediately calmed down. You really needed this moment for yourself.

You took a deep breath, closing your eyes. Oh how you loved your life right now. You couldn’t wish for anything better.

You were alone with yourself and your thought for maybe half an hour before you felt a familiar presence behind you.

“I’m starting to believe you like to sneak up onto me,” you said without your eyes leaving the sea. You knew it would only be a matter of time until Ghost found you. He was a light sleeper, if he slept at all. He was a night person, just like you.

He just huffed, carefully walking towards you. He stood beside you, glancing down at you. “Why’d you leave?” he wanted to know, his eyes following your line of view. He found himself staring at the waves crashing at the shore.

“I just needed to think for a moment,” you replied, straightening your body with a sign. Ghost showed no reaction to your answer. Typical of him. Always asking, never answering.

After a couple moments of silence you decided to speak up. “Why are you really here Ghost? And don’t start with this “you’re the only non-military person i know”-bullshit! I know that you never were fond of me, so why are you here now? Matter of fact, why are you still here? We both know Price doesn’t give more than, what, four or five days of leave?” You turned to directly look at him. He was already facing you, the look in his eyes as piercing as always.

“What if I don’t want to answer that question?” he asked, slightly tilting his head. You huffed. That fucker.

“I don’t care that you don’t want to answer!” your voice grew louder. “All those years you pushed me around like some sort of…toy and now you show up in my fucking barn at freaking 5am and ask to stay with me during your leave.” You almost threw your hands in the air but warned yourself to try and keep calm. “Do you even hear how fucking…absurd that sounds?”

You tried to read the look in Ghost’s eyes but it was nearly impossible. The mask made it even harder. You took a deep breath, before continuing.

“I know nothing about you Ghost, other than maybe your last name and call sign and I worked years by your side. I’m putting an insane amount of trust into you right now, do you know that? I’m risking not only my live but most importantly my son’s by having you here so I think the least you can do is answer my question: why the fuck you are here?”

“Why…are you risking your life by having me here?” he asked, trying so hard to hide the confusion in his voice. You nearly started to scream. Was he actually stupid or did he just act like it?

“Why do you think I chose Denmark out of all the places in Europe?” You stared at him. “I’ll tell you why! It’s cause no one gives a single flying fuck about Denmark! There’re a shit ton of people after me but most importantly after you.” You pressed your index finger against his chest, unaware of how close you suddenly were to him. You heavily breathed, your thoughts clouded. “And if they find out you’re here not only you will be in danger but me and my son too. I swore to myself to leave anything military related behind the second Louis came into my life, so yes, at a certain point you’re risking my and his life.”

When you were finished you stepped back, clearly shocked about your rant. Fuck, that was embarrassing, you thought. He maybe wasn’t your superior anymore but you still had an immense respect for him. Under normal circumstances.

You wanted to start talking again to apologize but he cut you off. “I understand.” He did? “I’m causing you trouble. I’ll leave as soon as possible.” He turned to walk away and you groaned.

“Ghost! Wait!” He didn’t stop. “For fuck sake,” you cursed as you went to run after him. Insufferable man! “I didn’t ask for you to leave!” you nearly shouted and he came to a hold.

“Well, what is it then?” he snapped while turning around, throwing his hands in the air. He shouldn’t have followed you here in the first place, now he was knee deep into some shit.

“I just want to know why you’re here. I want to know what to expect of this whole thing here,” you answered. You're suddenly dangerously calm. “I wouldn’t have allowed you to stay if I wouldn’t be able to take the risk. I just want to know what you want here. What you really want here.”

Ghost blinked at you and you started to give up on getting an answer out of him but then he started to talk. “I wanted to spend time with you.” His voice was slightly shaking, going almost unnoticeable.

You were speechless for a moment. He wanted to spend time with…you? Who the fuck poisoned him? You opened your mouth to reply, trying to think of the right words.

“What?”

“I’m not gonna repeat myself,” he huffed, turning away again. “Do what you want with that information.” His voice was only a mumble but you still were able to hear it. Your head was spinning, not knowing what to think.

„You look scary with that mask.“

„I do?“

„Yea…“

Ghost smirked as Louis stared at him. You currently were in town to buy a couple of things and trusted Ghost enough to stay alone with Louis. He needed to admit, the young boy was funny.

„Why are you wearing it? Mom told me you wear it for work but you’re not working now.“ Louis tilted his head and Ghost sighed. The boy was right. He wasn‘t working right now but the mask comforted him in a maybe fucked up way. He didn’t want to take it off.

„I like how it feels on my face,“ Ghost tried to explain, looking down at Louis. „It makes me feel safe.“

„Oh…“ Louis stopped to think for a minute. „Just like my mom makes me feel safe, right?“ he then asked, staring up into Ghost’s eyes.

The older man nodded. „Yes, just like that.“

“Do you have another mask?”

“Why are you asking?”

“If your mask makes you feel safe whenever you wear it, maybe it would make me feel safe when I’m at school…”

Ghost stopped in his tracks, turning to look at Louis, the concern clearly visible in his eyes. “You don’t feel safe in school?”

“No… They always make fun of me because I only have my mom. They’re talking about their dads all the time and I don’t have one…” A quiet sob left Louis’ lips and Ghost felt an unfamiliar pang in his chest.

“They…they don’t hurt you, do they?” Ghost sat down on the grass, the barn door he wanted to fix long forgotten. He patted the stop beside him, motioning Louis to sit down. He needed to find out what was going on in that boy's school.

Louis hesitatingly sat down, avoiding Ghost’s eyes. He was quiet for a while and Ghost wanted to start talking to assure him everything was alright but then Louis broke the silence.

“They shove me sometimes,” he said, his voice quiet. “It doesn’t hurt or anything but I still don’t like it… They always call me Mommy’s boy and make fun of me because I’m not as good at sports as they are…” A silent tear was making its way down Louis’ cheek and Ghost wanted to reach out to wipe it away but…he was afraid.

“Have you ever thought of…defending yourself?” Ghost wanted to know after a while, glancing down at Louis again. “You shouldn’t just take what they throw at you.”

“I don’t know how. I never- I never even told my mom about it…” Louis averted his gaze further and Ghost knew it was because he was afraid that Ghost may think he was weak.

“Mhh,” Ghost hummed, leaning back on his arms. “Would you like to learn? I could teach you a thing or two. Nothing major of course but it could help you.”

Louis’ head shot up, an unknown sparkle in his eyes. He started to beam. “You would do that?”

“Of course,” Ghost smiled under his mask. „Just some basic self defense,“ he further explain, wondering why you didn‘t teach your son. If he had kids it would‘ve been the first thing he‘d teach them. The world could and would be cruel. He would want to prepare them for it.

„Fuck,“ you cursed as you picked up your phone. „Yes?“ you ask, giving Ghost a quick look. You two were currently in town, grocery shopping, when your phone rang. You didn‘t know who it was. You barely had any friends.

„What?“ you almost whisper in disbelief, the grip you had on the pack of noodles in your hand loosening. Before they could fall to the ground Ghost catches them, raising his eyebrow under his mask. What was going on?

„Of course, I‘ll be there as soon as possible. Yes, thank you for calling.“ You end the call, your hand slowly falling to your side. You only manage to blink for a couple seconds. Then you grab the noodles from Ghost‘s. „Louis school called. He got in a fight, we need to pick him up,“ you explain, throwing the noodles in the cart and pushing it forward.

Ghost only followed you, knowing that he probably was the reason Louis got into that fight. Would be funny to explain that to you…

You quickly pay and rush to the car. Once everything was packed away you started the engine. For two years Louis didn’t make trouble once and now he suddenly got in a fight? What the hell?

Ghost was quiet beside you, only looking at the road ahead.

When you pulled into the parking lot of the school you sighed, pushing a couple of hair strands out of your face. „Into the hell hole we go,“ you mutter while opening the door. Before you could close it, Ghost spoke up.

„I can go with you, if you want. I‘ll look out for Louis,“ he suggested and you stopped to look at him. Was he okay? He hated social interactions normally.

„Uh, sure. You can tag along,“ you reply, clearly surprised. Ghost nodded and opened his door. You wanted to ask about his mask but as you knew him he would keep it on.

You quickly brushed down your clothes before you entered the school, Ghost trailing behind you like a guard dog. It probably looked scary to anybody else but you were very used to it. He used to do it all the time while you still were with the 141.

After a couple minutes you stood in front of the principal's office, gently knocking. The sooner you were done with this, the sooner you‘d be home.

„Come in,“ you heard the voice of the principal. You cringed. He was a weird man, always so suggestive… Weird and disgusting in your eyes. That's why you never acted on it but well… men were men, weren‘t they?

You opened the door, walking in with a forced smile. „Hello Mr. Jorgensen.“ He stood up and gave you an almost nasty looking smile. It faded when he noticed Ghost behind you.

He extended his hand to greet you, then he turned his head to face Ghost. „And you must be Louis' father, am I right?“ He extended his hand again.

You were about to correct Jorgensen but Simon dryly replied for you. „Mr. Riley.“ Jorgensen nodded, visibly swallowing.

„You may have a seat,“ he then gestures towards the chairs in front of his desk. „I‘m well aware you know why I asked you to come here,“ Jorgensen starts, folding his hands on top of his desk. „Louis has been showing…concerning behavior lately and he probably should have contacted you earlier about it.“

„What behavior?“ You ask, slightly tilting your head. Louis always was a brave kid.

You could see that Jorgensen hesitated, his eyes jumping back and forth between you and Ghost. Was he scared to talk? „He broke another boys nose,“ he ripped the plaster off, straight up looking at you.

Before he could continue Ghost spoke up. „He was defending himself.“ Now you look at your old colleague in shock. Jorgensen didn‘t do anything different.

He cleared his throat. „Mind to elaborate on that Mr. Riley?“

Ghost straightened his back, mimicking Jorgensen‘s folded hands. „Kid‘s just defending himself. He‘s been bullied for months now. What did you expect him to do? Drink tea about it?“ His voice was cold and his eyes were piercing. You saw Jorgensen swallowing.

„We‘re still trying to find out what really-“

„Are you saying he‘s lying?“ Ghost questioned, leaning forward on his knees. „Are you saying that you don‘t believe him? A child doesn‘t hit without a good reason and it especially doesn’t break a nose because it feels like it.“

You saw how tense Ghost became and you decided to step in. You gently placed your hand on his shoulder. That caught him off guard.

„Thank you for giving us that information Mr. Jorgensen but I would like to see my son now. I assure you that I- we will have a talk with him as soon as we return home.“

„I…have no doubt in that,“ Jorgensen replied, standing up. „Please, follow me.“ He walked around his desk and out of his office. You and Ghost followed.

You walked down a hallway and then another door opened. In that room sat Louis. As soon as he saw you he jumped up, running into your arms. He started to cry as you held him close.

Jorgensen cleared his throat, turning to look at Ghost. „Well, Mr. Riley, I will leave your little family alone for now. I hope we don‘t see each other again about this matter.“ Then he left, but his words didn‘t. They would haunt Ghost until the early morning hours.

„Why did you do that?“ you immediately asked Louis when he calmed down, your voice gentle. It made no sense screaming at him now. „Did…they really bully you?“

Louis only nodded, sniffing. „Simon taught me how to do that,“ he then whispered, looking at Ghost behind you. You stiffed. Then you slowly turned around and stood up.

„You taught him how to do that?“ you asked, your voice on an edge. You didn‘t know if his name really was Simon but everything pointed in that direction. „Did you teach my son how to break noses?“ your voice rose but Ghost stayed calm. „I asked you something! Did you teach him that“ You were trembling, almost unable to control your anger.

Ghost looked at you and tilted his head. „Yes, I did teach him that. I‘m surprised you didn‘t.“ That only fuelled your anger even more.

„You‘re surprised I didn‘t teach him how to break noses and punch children?!“ You jammed your finger against his chest, forgetting that your son was able to witness all this.

„Yes, I am surprised!“ he replied, his voice also suddenly strained. „Why does someone with your abilities and knowledge doesn‘t teach his child how to defend himself from a bunch of little bastards?!“ Ghost‘s eyes grew dark and he made himself taller than he probably was.

„Because I am not a blood-thirsty monster like you!“ you yell back at him, shocked by your own words. You take a step back, swallowing. You didn‘t mean to say that. You didn‘t- Louis‘ trembling voice interrupts you.

„Mom?“ Your head snaps, looking at him. The look in his eyes is terrified. „Mom please don‘t yell…“ he pleads, his voice quiet.

„I’m- I’m sorry darling…“ your own voice is shaking, as well as your hands. You swallow again. „Come on, let’s get you out of here.“ You grab his hand, leading him past Ghost.

„You wanna walk?“ you snapped at him when he didn‘t follow. You didn‘t want to see his ugly mask but you also didn‘t want to leave him here alone…

You were back home again, it was late and Louis was already sleeping. You were in the kitchen preparing something to eat for you and well, for…Ghost. And as if you think of the devil you felt his presence behind you. You wanted to say something but he was faster.

„I care about him. That‘s why I taught him,“ he says and you turn around. He‘s leaning against the doorframe, looking at you.

You huff, „You care about him? Please, you know him for one month! How do you already care about him so much that you’re willing to teach him how to break fucking noses!“ Your voice was strained as you tried not to yell at him.

„I’ve known you for two weeks before I started to care about you!“ He replies, his voice calm but his eyes piercing. He pushed himself off the doorframe and walked towards you.

„Oh please, you didn‘t exchange one single word with me! You care about nobody!“ Ghost looks at you and for a second you believe you saw hurt in his eyes.

„That’s not true,“ he defends himself, coming to a hold just in front of you. You need to crane your neck to look up at him. His height really annoyed you sometimes.

„I care about people!“

You huff again, „And who are those people?“

„Johnny, Price, Gaz,“ he starts to list your former colleagues. „I care about Louis. I care about…you“ His voice fades and he turns his head away. „Believe it or not but I care about you.“

You swallow, struck by his confession. How do you answer something like that?

„If you care about me, why did you never make any effort to get to know me? I wanted to be friends with you, Ghost… Just like I‘m friends with Soap and the others.“ Your anger seemed to disappear and sadness took its place.

He didn‘t say anything and you sighed. You knew he wasn‘t good with feelings. Still, it annoyed you a little bit. You turn around, checking the noodles in the pot. The water should be boiling by now.

„I wanted to protect you…“ Ghost said after a minute of silence, his voice…unsure. He sounded even a bit insecure.

„From what?“ you ask in return, your gaze fixed on the food in front of you. You were more than capable of looking after yourself. You already had years of military experience before you joined the 141. Why, or better said, from what did he want to protect you?

“From me.” You felt his breath against your neck. Did he take off his mask? What the hell happened? “I wanted to protect you from that blood-thirsty monster I am,” he recalled the words you said when picking up Louis.

You closed your eyes, embarrassed at what you called him. He wasn’t a monster. Not to you at least…

“Look, I-” you start but he interrupts you.

“Don’t take back what you said because it’s true.” you hear his voice directly besides you ear and you can’t help but let out an unsteady breath.

You sigh, not daring to turn around. If you were right and he took his mask off you didn’t want to disturb his privacy. “Ghost-“

“Simon,” he interrupts you once again. “Call me Simon.”

“Okay.” Your gaze drifts down to the pot of noodles, carefully stirring it with a wooden spoon. “Simon… What I said- it’s not true. You’re not a blood-thirsty monster,” you try to clarify, signing once again. “I said it in the heat of the moment and-“

“And it’s true. I am who I am and I was protecting you from that.” He was placing his arms next to the stove, caging you in. You briefly closed your eyes, taking a deep breath to calm down. This was getting kinda…weird. Why was he suddenly talking like that?

“Why would you protect me from yourself?” you want to know, your voice almost cracking. Hell, why were you getting so emotional now?

“Because… Because I love you,” you felt his breath stutter and you wanted to reply but he just kept talking. “I love you and I have the terrible habit of getting the ones that I love killed. That was why I kept my distance. That was why I wanted to protect you from me. I didn’t want you to get hurt, I couldn’t forgive myself if you were hurt. But now, now that you left the 141 and…me I realized that maybe, maybe I should…risk it and that I should make up for all the times I hurt you because I wanted to keep you safe…”

Simon had finished and you needed a couple minutes to sort your thoughts out. He was still standing beside you, his hot breath almost burning your skin. “I…don’t know what to say,” you whisper, too overwhelmed and confused by his confession.

“Then say nothing,” he replied in a, suddenly, very gentle voice, now placing his hands on your hips. You were immediately melting into his touch. How many nights did you dream of that already? Now it was turning into reality…

He carefully turned you around to face him but you kept your gaze low, not daring to look into his eyes. If he really was without his mask-

“Look at me,” he whispers. Then you feel his hand on your chin, carefully lifting it up. You were now looking directly at him.

You were almost starstruck as you saw his face. It was…so much more handsome than you imagined it. He had messy blond hair, a little stubble and—god forbid—scars littered all across his face but you loved it.

Unconsciously your hand reached out to trace his features, slightly flinching when he grabbed it. He caressed your wrist with his thumb, slowly raising it to his mouth to press a little kiss onto it.

“Do you understand now?” he asks you, leaning down to be face to face with you. You only manage to nod, too overwhelmed by this whole situation.

He gave you a little smile, then he starts to tilt his head. “Can I kiss you?” he wants to know after a couple moments of silence and again you can’t manage more than a nod.

He smiled again before pulling you in to capture your lips with his and you feel like heaven. Was this really Simon Riley, Lieutenant Ghost, kissing you? You felt like you took a wrong turn somewhere but…it was good.

After you break the kiss he keeps you close, one of his hands on your hip, the other at the back of your head. “Let me show you that I love you,” he mutters, starting to trail kisses down your neck.

You let out a satisfied sigh, your hands finding the way into his hair. You would let him. You would let him show.

Not in bed though. He didn’t deserve that just yet.

„God, that kid is a handful sometimes,“ Simon groans as he flops down on your bed, belly first. You only laugh at him, putting your book aside.

„You get used to it,“ you smirk, your hand finding its way into his hair. „I‘ve been handling him for 7 years now…“ You laugh at his facial expression, pressing a gentle kiss on his head.

Before you can pull back he grabs your face, locking his lips on yours, a satisfied hum leaving his mouth. You smile into the kiss.

„You‘re gonna be the death of me,“ you chuckle after breaking the kiss.

„Better kill you with my charm, then my gun,“ he mumbles in reply, before pulling you in again. He shifts, so he’s on top of you, supporting his weight with his arms.

Your hands caress the back of his head, then his cheeks and his neck. You sigh into the kiss.

After he breaks the kiss he lays down between your legs, his head on your stomach and his arms around your waist. You softly smile down at him. Never in a million years you would‘ve thought that one day your former Lieutenant would lay in your bed, cuddling with you. It was like a fever dream…

„Everything okay, love?“ he mumbles against your stomach, looking up at you. You smile again.

„Yes, nothing to worry about.“ Your hands find their way into his hair again, gently playing with the dirty blonde strands. You were savoring this moment because it could be any day that he needed to leave again…

You were close to dozing off when he started talking again. „Price reached out to me…“

„And?“ you mumble back at him, well aware of what was to come. You were already preparing yourself for the day he‘d leave. You knew he couldn‘t stay forever.

„Said I need to come back. I’ve been gone for almost two and a half months…“ The words were heavy on Simon‘s tongue as he tightened his hold around you.

„When will you leave,“ you gently ask, continuing to play with his hair. You enjoy the feeling of him just laying on top of you. It made you feel safe. You didn‘t want him to leave you again.

„They‘ll pick me up tomorrow,“ he sighs and you don‘t even bother asking how they know where to pick him up. He managed to find you too, didn‘t he?

„Tomorrow?“ you smirk, grabbing his face to pull you up to you. „Better make the best out of tonight then, huh?“ You feel him smile against your lips, propping himself up on his arms above you.

„You damn right sweetheart,“ he whispers against your lips, leaving you a puddle. The power he had over was crazy.

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mozzaremi · 1 year

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got too silly, made omori magic au, that i'm calling MAGIKOMORI indodump in read more! (it's long)

Magikomori (Infodump)

The whole premise of the au is that the world of omori takes place in an alternate universe where magic is real

Magic and witchery have only recently become a viable career choice in this world, with magic academies popping up to help other witches to properly hone their craft in their efforts to make a living profit from doing what they love and are passionate about.

Both Sunny and Mari come from a bloodline of witches, making them generally talented in magic and spellcasting. Their mother isa witch, while their dad is just a regular guy who doesn't have the best outlook on magic users.

Mari develop a people-pleaser side of herself that oftentimes is directed at her father, always trying her best to receive validation from him, resulting in Mari dropping all thoughts of becoming a professional witch in the future to instead focus more on her regular school studies and perfecting her skills on the piano.

Sunny, being the opposite, fully embraces the magic side of himself. The specific type of witch ability he's good at being illusions. He can summon lifelike recreations of entities from his dreams without much trouble. His summons are able to interact with the real world around them while also having a mind of their own. Although with Sunny being a less-experienced illusionist, he cannot control them or summon many at a time (he works around this problem by being able to conjure chibi versions of his dream entities into the real world).

While Mewo is still the pet of the family and she is recognised as Mrs. Suzuki's familiar. At the time of Sunny and Mari being toddlers, they would happens to accidentally cast spells and it was Mewo's job to reverse them and babysit the children when the parents were busy.

Other noteworthy magic users from the friend group is Aubrey. While she’s not from a family that's magically inclined, after seeing all the cool stuff Mari and Sunny are able to do with their witch heritage, saying that she became inspired to dabble in magic would be an understatement!

The particular magic Aubrey specializes in is alchemy! She’s able to use spells to conjure, combine and transform items. One of her first successful alchemy attempts was being able to transform a simple wooden broomstick into a wooden bat

The other magic user of the group is Basil.

His family is part of an ancient bloodline of seers, and are able to see visions of the future. On top of that, Basil's lineage are bearers of a curse of being subjected to frequent nightmares, taking away any semblance of peace in their day to day life, leaving them with restless nights of poor sleep, night terrors, and insomnia. This curse also affects Basil's abilities to see visions, as it's hard to separate possible future events from a bad dream.

With the help of his grandma, Basil combats the curse by creating magical potions to suppress the nightmares and give himself a better night's sleep.

Potion making becoming his speciality, he contemplates joining a magic academy to get a permit to sell his very own potions to the public! His brews range from tea- like elixirs that help with staying calm, helping with concentration, and clearing up general sickness (so basically like the stuff you can find at a regular pharmacy but make it magical)

Both Hero and Kel staying fairly faithful to their canon counterparts, both not having that many ties to magic, but still appreciating the craft! The brothers often contemplate on learning spells for their daily use, whether it's to help with chores or to enhance the taste of a special valentine's treat for a special someone!

Now here's the deal breaker question... does Mari die in the au?

Well... yes and no. The accident does occur, but after Sunny pushes Mari, instead of freezing up, he attempts to cast a spell to save her from the fall, but instead he fumbles the spell so bad, that Mari phases between the world of the living and the dead, Sunny and basil being the only ones who can see her.

Their dad was already showing slight agitation from the witchery mischief that that family takes part in and the accident is the last straw for him. He leaves the family right after, convinced that the spell cannot be reversed and that mari was basically murdered by Sunny's hands and magic.

Their mom tries her hardest to reverse the spell that might as well have been a curse. But without being able to detect mari, and with Sunny and Basil being the only ones to see her, it's their responsibility to attempt to undo the spell.

Instead of framing it as a suicide, Sunny's mom filed it as a missing person's case just so nothing bad happens to the two boys. Since magic has only been recently integrated into daily life, there weren't any good sources to turn to for help, so all trust was put into basil and Sunny to fix this.

Attempts to find a way to reverse their mistake were made with the two worried boys collecting countless books on spells and curses in effort to find a solution to their problem. After months of research, things were looking hopeless. Sunny, not being able to deal with the pressure, falls into a depressive state, barely leaving his own headspace while sleeping all day and night.

After the incident, he develops the headspace that we know, though with more magical elements sprinkled in, alongside Omori and his headspace friends. Omori is almost a stand-in for Sunny's own familiar, being able to effortlessly enter the real world and also disguise himself as his cat form. Omori would cause the young witch to procrastinate on finding the right spell to bring Mari back, ensuring that Sunny doesn't become too stressed or depressed when his attempts lead him nowhere. While not doing it out of any evil reasons to keep mari stuck between planes of existence, he just wants to protect Sunny and make sure that he gets some semblance of rest and peace in his life.

Basil's mental state also worsens alongside his best friend. With his best friend shutting him out and not having that much spare time to brew potions for his nightmares, all his time is devotedto finding a way to bring back Mari even without Sunny's help.

After the disappearance of Mari, instead of Hero becoming a chef or a doctor in the future, he chooses the career path of a detective, even purchasing a very expensive crystal ball to try to contact Mari if she were to be dead. Coincidentally he has no luck with being able to contact her, leaving Hero with some hope that he might find her someday.

Aubrey still ends up becoming a delinquent, while also using her alchemy abilities for mischief. She forms a friend group of other delinquent magic users, causing occasional acts of misbehavior in faraway town.

She still owns Bun-Bun as her pet bunny, and while not having any magical abilities, Aubrey still refers to him as her familiar companion.

Kel is still... same-old Kel, still into basketball and a personification of a ball of sunshine. He still attempts knocking at Sunny's door to see him again, with things not going well until Sunny has to move. Kel also pitched in to get Hero the crystal ball for some closure, even being surprised as well when nothing came up.

Being stuck between being dead and alive, after the four years Mari loses any resentment she might have had for Sunny and instead feels bad for her dear little brother. While Sunny can still see Mari, it's almost as if after Omori came into the picture Sunny started ignoring Mari's presence. Noticing this, Mari would attempt invading the boy's dreams to talk to him, causing all the headspace reset shenanigans.

When it comes to magic being used to cause other people harm, it all follows the "rule of three". Whatever energy a person puts out into the world, be it positive or negative, will be returned to that person three times. Being aware of this magical law does help with preventing any possible person using magic for evil.

In Sunny's case, while it was accidental, he did cause his sister and his friends a lot of grief, so it all returned back at him, the negative energy being a lot of emotional turmoil. This feeling of physical and mental unwellness is what helped develop Omori as his supposed familiar to help him cope.

The plot of omori would still play out as it normally would withthe main difference being that people think that mari went missing instead of her committing suicide.

Bad and neutral omori endings are still plausible options for the plot. But in the good ending, once the friend group forgives Sunny and Basil for keeping up the lie of Mari's disappearance, they attempt to work together to undo the spell keeping Mari in limbo.

#omori au #omori #omori sunny #sunny omori #kel omori #omori kel #hero omori #omori hero #aubrey omori #omori aubrey #omori mari #mari omori #basil omori #omori basil #magikomori au #my art #will be illustrating parts of the infodump after getting some commissions done #omori fanart #omori spoilers

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zepskies · 1 month

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Take Me Home - Part 3

Pairing: Beau Arlen x F. Reader

Summary: You are another lost soul at Sunny Day Excursions. You’re aiming to settle in Helena, Montana, where Beau Arlen is the new sheriff in town. But you’ve both got a past you’re running from.

AN: I’m being continuously blown away by your lovely responses on this story. Thank you so much! I truly appreciate all the love for our cowboy sheriff and where TMH is going.

Word Count: 6.6K

Tags/Warnings: Angst, hurt/comfort, a heart-to-heart, flirtations, and invitations taken…

❤️ Series Masterlist

Part 3: Welcome Home

In the next twenty-four hours after Mary was found, the police’s investigation led them to a man named Walter. He’d been living in the woods, and was suspected of stalking the camp for days.

He was arrested as a prime suspect in Mary’s murder at Sunny Day Excursions, along with Paige’s; even though they’d yet to find her body, the police did confirm that she'd never made it home to New York.

They also found Luke later that night. His body was pierced to a tree by an archer’s arrow.

The campers were sent home shortly after Walter was arrested.

And three days later, your aunt Denise gingerly took a seat on the edge of the couch you’d been lying in all day (and all week so far). She swept her fingers over your greasy hair in both comfort and affection.

Denise Brisbane was your mom’s sister. She was a private investigator here in Helena. And as you found out, she actually worked with Cassie Dewell, the woman you’d met at the camp, who was still in search of a missing backpacker.

“You’ve barely moved in days, honey,” Denise said.

Her face was sympathetic and sad, watching you. Though you felt the sting of guilt, feeling like a burden that had just been unloaded on your aunt, you didn’t want to leave your warm blankets. Your body felt heavy and useless.

“Good news though. The rest of your stuff ships in tomorrow,” she said, continuing to pet your hair. “I’ll help you move into your new apartment. How does that sound?”

You gave a weak nod. “Thanks.”

She sighed. “I’m not trying to kick you out, hun. I just think it’ll be good for you to start getting on your feet.”

You agreed, wordlessly. In your head, you knew she was right. You couldn’t sleep on her couch forever, and perhaps more importantly, you couldn’t let this beat you down forever.

“You sure you don’t want to talk about it?” Denise asked, squeezing your shoulder. “Your mom wanted to get the first flight out here, but I told her I’d take care of you until you go home for the funeral.”

You were grateful for that. As much as you loved your mother, you didn’t want to be smothered right now. Your mom’s version of comfort could only include a heavy dose of smothering. The one thing you had been able to do was call Mary’s parents.

That had been a long and painful conversation. After which, you slept like the dead for two days straight.

Denise broke you out of your wandering thoughts when she handed you a business card. It had a banyan tree emblazoned on it, along with the name of a grief counseling center.

“Cassie’s actually been going here, and she’s liked it so far,” she said.

At your furrowed look of confusion, she added, “Look, it’s okay if you don’t want to talk to me, but I think it would be good for you to talk to someone. Maybe someone who understands what you’re going through.”

You sighed and flipped the card through your fingers. You really, really didn’t want to go. You could already what your father would say if he knew you went to a grief counselor. His form of “therapy” was the growing collection of bourbon behind his desk.

But if it meant you’d stop being a lump in your aunt’s living room, then maybe you could give it a shot.

“Okay,” you nodded. Your voice was a bit coarse with disuse. Denise gave you a smile, and a warm hug that felt like home. She even offered to make your appointment for you.

You were a little annoyed though. Now you’d have to actually get up and put on a bra.

“Maybe shower first, huh?” she advised, while she helped you get up.

“Yeah, yeah,” you replied.

A hot shower, washing and styling your hair, putting real clothes on, and overall making yourself presentable actually made you feel human again. You even surprised yourself by putting on a bit of makeup.

Once you made it to the grief counseling center in your car, however, you sat in the parking lot for a minute. You had to take a moment to breathe. Because you knew you were going to be asked what happened. You were going to have to get into it all over again.

Even after you were able to leave your car and brave through the carpeted halls of the building, your hands were shaking. At the reception desk, an older woman directed you down another long hallway to the group session. It was the only one available on short notice, but she promised that if you found the session helpful, she could help you book another group session, or even a solo session.

You weren’t sure if you were ready for “solo,” but a group appealed to you. Maybe you could just sit in the back and let the others talk.

The counselor, Tom, greeted you when you walked into the right room. It was a small room with a bunch of chairs formed in a circle at the center. No room to hide, you thought with growing unease. You glanced over and saw that there were a few people already milling about, making small talk in a cluster near the circle.

“We’re gonna start here in a few minutes, but until then, you can take a seat,” said Tom. “There’s also coffee and cookies over there, if you like.”

Coffee. Coffee was warm, and it might settle your nerves and help you perk up a bit. You thanked him and went for the carafes on a small table in the back. You poured some coffee into a Styrofoam cup and poured a little sugar and creamer into it, but after you took an experimental sip, you immediately regretted it.

Tastes like damn soil water! You made a grossed out sound and spat it back into your cup.

“Yeah, wouldn’t recommend the joe,” drawled a familiar voice.

You turned sharply to find Sheriff Beau Arlen. He gave you a sympathetic look as he reached for a cup of water. Seeing him took you by such surprise, you gasped with a slight flinch, accidentally spilling some scalding coffee on yourself in the process.

You held the cup away from you fast, but a few drops still flecked on your jeans, and even his boots.

“Oh my God, I’m so sorry,” you gasped again. Beau just smiled good-naturedly and grabbed a few napkins off the table.

“It’s all right,” he said. “I’m the one who snuck up on you. Accidentally, I might add.”

He handed you the napkins so you could soak up the coffee from your hand and arm. Meanwhile, he took your half-empty coffee cup and tossed it in the garbage. Your damp wad of napkins joined the cup.

And when you finally looked up at him again, you both found yourselves smiling, despite where you were. It was the first time you’d been able to smile in days.

“Sheriff Arlen,” you greeted. “I did not expect to see you here…”

His smile faltered at that, but his hand reached back to sort through his short hair at the back of his head.

“Ah, call me Beau,” he said. “I have a feeling we’re about to get to know each other better.”

You agreed to that, just as you agreed to join him for a seat within the circle of chairs. He leaned back in his chair and swept a hand through his hair again, perhaps in a nervous gesture. You glanced over at him, saw the way he smoothed a hand down his jeans when his knee started bouncing…

Could he be as anxious as you? You had to wonder why he was here, for grief counseling of all things. The thought sobered you as more people filtered in and took their seats. Tom eventually got things started from his spot across from you in the circle.

“Okay, we’ve got a couple of first timers to this group session, so tell you what,” he said. “Let’s go around, introduce ourselves, and share something interesting. Whether it’s what you do for a living, a new hobby you picked up, or keeping it even more simple, something fun you did this week.”

You looked down at the folded hands in your lap. If binge watching entire seasons of Succession and sleeping until noon every day counted as something fun, then you were all set.

The introductions started to his left, so it took a while before it got around to you. There was that little flutter of nerves in your stomach, like you were a kid again, and it was the first day of school (but worse).

Luckily, Beau was before you. You were curious about what he would share as he let out a subtle clearing of his throat.

“Hi there, I’m Beau Arlen. Some of you know me as the new sheriff over at Helena PD.” He greeted everyone with a short wave, though he tossed you a smiling glance. “You might also be able to tell that I’m from Texas. Born and bred in Houston. I moved up here to stay close to my daughter, who’s living here with her mother…my ex-wife.”

He tacked on that last bit after a slight pause. But he recovered quicker than you could process and gestured to you next. You forced yourself to perk up, putting your “teacher’s hat” on as you tried to meet everyone’s eyes. First, you gave them your name.

“I’m also from out of town, from Chicago,” you said, glancing at Beau. His expression was encouraging. It gave you the small boost you didn’t know you needed. “I’m a college professor, formerly of the University of Chicago…but I start at Caroll College in the fall.”

Beau’s brows rose as his lips twitched upwards. You tried not to blush as you passed on the introductions to the next person.

The session itself was light overall. Tom talked about the stress that often came with the unknown—with moving past a challenging time, or tackling a new project, or even moving to a new and unfamiliar city. He didn’t force everyone to chime in about themselves, but the ones who were ready to share took the floor one by one. And by the end, you thought that you’d gleaned some useful tidbits just by listening.

Hell, maybe you’d even come back here.

When the session was over though, you were kind of relieved. You grabbed your purse and got up to leave.

“Well, that was relatively painless,” Beau said, also getting up from his seat.

“Yeah, wasn’t so bad,” you replied. Your name fell from his lips in the form of a question, earning your expectant gaze.

“Listen, uh, can I buy you a real cup of coffee?” he offered. “We might not have met under the best of circumstances, but I just heard recently that you’re Denise’s niece. Well, I’m friends with the gals over at Dewell & Hoyt, your aunt included, so I just thought it’d be good to get to know each other, being that we’re both kinda new in town, and—”

You set a light hand on his arm. That one touch was able to stop his rambling, along with the sight of your amused smile up at him.

“Coffee sounds great,” you said.

You decided there was no real harm in meeting him at the nearest coffee shop, just a few minutes away.

It was hard not to associate the sheriff with that terrible night at the camp, but you knew that wasn’t fair to him. He seemed like a nice guy, and by the way he talked about his daughter, maybe even a good man.

In your experience, a good man was hard to find.

“So, what do you teach exactly?” Beau asked. He’d just finished telling you about Emily starting a summer internship with Cassie and Denise at the private investigation agency. Like father like daughter, you’d remarked. Beau’s soft, but proud smile had been telling.

“English literature,” you replied to his question, sipping at your cappuccino. He was drinking a hot French vanilla latte, which kind of amused you. You had expected him to order an Americano or something.

“Oh, yeah? What sort of classes?” he said.

“The greatest hits, basically,” you explained. “Composition, English grammar, Shakespeare…Twentieth Century British Literature.”

“Oh, is that all?” he chuckled. It charmed a smile out of you.

“I don’t know why I asked. I didn’t even go to college,” Beau said. It finally succeeded in making you laugh.

“Straight to the police academy, then?” you asked.

“Like a cannonball, heels a blazin’,” he said, miming a gunshot with his hand.

“Like a rhinestone cowboy,” you teased. And you felt brave enough to hum the riff of the Glen Campbell song.

Beau shook his head with a grin. He’d seen you, all tightened up and anxious throughout the group session, even though it had been pretty lightweight. He could relate to your discomfort. He’d made a conscious effort to talk very little about himself and gave the others the room to tell their stories.

Beau liked seeing you more relaxed though. He liked your smile, the glimpses of your sense of humor shining through. He liked that he was somehow able to bring that out of you for a while.

“I still can’t believe you're Denise’s niece,” he said, once again shaking his head. “What a small world.”

“Yeah. I’ve been crashing on her couch for the past week,” you admitted. “But I have the rest of summer to settle into my new apartment, starting tomorrow. I’ve got my whole life shipping in on a truck.”

Beau nodded at that. He contemplated whether it’d be appropriate for him to offer you some help with that. The question was on the tip of his tongue, until he saw the way your mood saddened. You sat contemplating your coffee mug.

“I asked her to come,” you confessed. When your eyes met his, they shone with the beginning of unshed tears. “The camping trip was Mary’s idea, but I asked her to come with me to Helena for the week. She wouldn’t have been there if it wasn’t for me.”

Beau let out a deep breath and met you with a more somber, understanding gaze.

“It wasn’t your fault,” he said. He was reminded that they had Walter in custody. He wasn’t yet willing to break and confess to the murders at Sunny Day Excursions, but they had him.

“I promise, we’ll get justice for Mary,” Beau added. You sighed and wiped a tear from your cheek.

“Do you think you have the right man?” you asked, speaking of Walter.

“I do,” Beau replied. “He’s being stubborn, but all the evidence points to him.”

You nodded gratefully, but you had to try and breathe through your tumultuous emotions, the way your heart was cracking with pain. You didn’t want to break down in the middle of a damn coffee shop.

Again, Beau wrestled with the inclination to cover his hand over yours. He felt like he was toeing the line between his professional capacity as a sheriff, and the fact that you were his friend’s niece. He wanted to comfort you the best he could. But sometimes, words just weren’t enough.

You took a half-hearted sip of your coffee. By now, it was lukewarm, if still tasty and sweet. It was healthier than whiskey, you supposed.

“She was like…like my sister, you know?” you said. “I feel like I failed her.”

Beau shook his head, his dark brows furrowing. He didn’t know how many times he could say it wasn’t your fault, knowing you probably wouldn’t ever believe it.

That struck a familiar bell.

“Look, I uh…I understand what you’re going through,” he admitted. Your watery gaze found his again. Your head tilted in interest.

He sighed before answering your unspoken question. “I lost my partner on the job, now a couple years back.”

“I’m sorry,” you replied, and your sympathy was as genuine as his had been for you. “I’m guessing you two were close.”

Beau’s lips quirked at one corner. “He was like my brother. Matter of fact, I think it used to make my own brother jealous.”

You processed that with a sad frown, though your brows soon rose in curiosity.

“You have a brother?”

“Yep,” Beau nodded. The brief shadows in his eyes lifted at the merciful change of topic. “Good ole’ David. I still call him Davey, even though he hates it.”

A smile played on your lips. “Older or younger?”

“Younger, by a few years,” he replied. There was a more natural gleam to his smile then. “He’s a hotshot doctor back in Houston.”

He teased, but you could see there was pride behind his eyes. It reminded you of the way he got whenever he talked about Emily.

“So you know my story. What brought you to Montana?” he asked. He wanted to see if he could help you get your mind off Mary. He didn’t know that he’d just pulled the pin on a whole other grenade.

You let out a wry chuckle.

“Uh, oh,” Beau said warily.

You nodded. He did tell you his story—ex-wife with a new husband, daughter, a new job in Montana—though you still didn’t know why he was going to grief counseling. If it was because of his partner, you could understand that…but you also didn’t want to pry.

You also knew it was only fair to answer his question.

“It’s not exactly like your situation but…I was engaged,” you said at last.

Past tense, he noted.

“Good guy?” he asked.

“A firefighter,” you replied. Though you knew well the rivalry that sometimes existed between cops and firefighters. Beau’s growing bemusement told you he was thinking along the same lines.

“Ah, a smoke eater, huh?” But his smile faded. “Did something happen to him on the job?”

“No,” you said, again with that weary chuckle. It was hard for you to get this out, but you’d been wrestling with it for over six months, damn near a year. It was enough.

“Just a couple months before the wedding, I found out he’d been cheating on me with his college girlfriend…pretty much throughout our whole relationship,” you said.

Though you promised yourself that you’d never cry over this again, today had already been incredibly difficult. The tears came, and you couldn’t stop them.

Beau's brows had risen high in surprise. Then, a deeper sympathy settled in his eyes.

“Jesus. How long?” he asked.

“We were together three years, engaged for about another one,” you said. “Almost four years of my life, just…”

You mimed a puff of smoke blowing out of your hand.

“Yeah. I know the feeling,” Beau said. His tone was wry as he dragged a hand over his beard. You gave him an apologetic look.

“I’m sorry. I know my story doesn’t compare with a marriage,” you said.

“That’s not what I was gettin’ at,” he replied. “But I get it. You start to think, what the hell was it all for? …Except for my daughter.”

“Yeah. Unfortunately, I don’t have an Emily,” you said. At the same time though, you were very glad you never had kids with that man.

Beau frowned when he saw the way your face fell further, becoming distant, and lost in old memories.

“Afterwards, I…I checked out, you know? I could barely focus on my students, my family, my friends.” Your nails drummed on the countertop. You shook your head as it all filtered through your mind again. “But the last straw was that my dad tried to get me to work things out with him, and I just…I lost it. Beau, I absolutely lost my shit.”

Beau grimaced. “What made your dad think that would work?”

“He’s a retired firehouse chief,” you said, with a purse of your lips. “He’s always had a soft spot for Michael.”

“Michael, huh?” Beau quirked a brow. “That come with a last name?”

You shot him a look of amusement.

“What, are you going to run his LUDS?” you joked, but you couldn’t prevent a sniffle as a new wave of emotion threatened an upswell.

You felt pathetic. This man was the whole-ass sheriff of this town. He probably had more important things to do than listen to you complain about your imploded relationship. But you were also Denise’s niece. Maybe he just felt sorry for you.

He offered you a napkin. “Sorry it’s not a tissue.”

In his eyes though, you didn’t see pity. Just kindness.

“It’s okay. I can brave a scratchy napkin,” you said, laughing a little. “But after that, I knew one of two things was going to happen. Either I was going to break open my dad’s gun safe and shoot the bastard in the ass, or I had to get the hell out of Chicago. My mom and Aunt Denise suggested I come here for a visit, just to clear my head. That turned into scoping out jobs, and then apartments… Now I’m here.”

That fell between you for a moment as your companion processed it all. In hindsight, you probably shouldn’t have mentioned that whole bit about possibly shooting your ex, but he took it in stride.

“Well, for what it’s worth, I’m glad you are,” Beau said. “Here, that is.”

You couldn’t help but blush; at his words, the deep green of his eyes, and the sincerity of his smile.

“Likewise, Sheriff,” you said.

He smirked. “Also glad you didn’t go shootin’ people in the ass.”

You covered your face and laughed.

Beau walked you to your car like the gentleman he was, even though it was only late afternoon. You opened the driver’s side door, but you lingered there. You turned back to him, curling a strand of hair behind your ear.

“Thanks for the coffee, and for letting me ramble, and vent, and soak up a few dozen napkins,” you said. You laughed a little in embarrassment, but he waved it off.

“It wasn’t as bad as all that, but good luck movin’ into your apartment tomorrow,” he said. Then it was his turn to hesitate. “If you need some help with that, just let me know.”

You blinked, mouth parting in soft surprise.

“Oh, thank you but…I don’t want to trouble you,” you said.

“You wouldn’t be. That’s why I offered,” he replied, smiling down at you in a way that had you melting a little bit more. “I’ve got an early shift tomorrow, but after, I could probably pull in Cassie. Maybe even Jenny, if she’s up for it. She’s one of our deputies at the PD.”

Beau recognized your hesitance.

“It wouldn’t be any trouble, I promise,” he said, holding a hand over his heart. “We’ve gotta welcome you to the neighborhood, don’t we?”

You were still a little unsure, but you agreed to it with a thank you, along with a more shy, sweet smile.

Beau liked that smile too.

Later that day, Beau remembered it was his turn to host the ritual movie night Friday with Cassie and Jenny. His trailer was too small to have it inside, so they set up Cassie’s projector out in front, by the fire. According to his friends, he was going about the night with too much cheer.

“You’re entirely too smiley to have just come from an afternoon of therapy,” Jenny pointed out. She uncapped her second beer, then passed him the bucket. He waved her off; he was still nursing his first beer of the night. If he stuck to his plan, then it’d be his only beer of the night.

“Aw, it wasn’t so bad, actually,” he said. He explained that you had been there at the group session. The moment your name was mentioned, Cassie and Jenny both raised their brows.

“Really?” Cassie remarked.

“Yeah. Losing her friend really shook her up. Understandably,” Beau said. His gaze lowered when he played through his afternoon with you in his mind. Though your situations were different, both in your lost friends and lost relationships, he realized just how much he’d understood and connected with a near stranger.

That kind of thing didn’t happen to him often, if ever before.

“But, she’s actually moving into her new place tomorrow,” he added, breaking himself out of his own head. “Speakin’ of, would you two have the time to help her and Denise out? I already said I would come by after shift tomorrow.”

Cassie and Jenny shared a certain look—the kind these women donned when they were having a private conversation with just their eyes. This time, it seemed to be about him.

“What?” he asked, his hands spreading wide.

“Nothing,” Cassie said, smiling. “Sure, I can come.”

“Yeah,” Jenny agreed, “barring nothing too crazy happens on shift.”

Beau inclined his head. “Knock on wood there. Anyway, what’re we watching?”

“Crazy, Stupid Love,” Jenny grinned, holding up the DVD cover. “For Ryan Gosling, of course.”

Beau rolled his eyes.

A few months ago, he wouldn’t have expected that he’d make friends with exclusively women in this town, but he only complained about it in times like these.

Though as it turned out, he enjoyed the movie. There were as many hilarious scenes as there were poignant ones. By the end of the night though, he was beat.

Jenny helped with the cleanup, but she ended up taking off first. It left Beau to put away the fold-up chairs with Cassie.

“So, tell me,” she said, in a leading tone and with a teasing smile. “You crushing on Glamper Girl for real now?”

Beau shot her a wry look.

“She’s not a glamper anymore,” he pointed out. “And I’m not crushing like some teenager. I just want to help her out. She’s been through a lot…and she’s Denise’s family. It’s just the right thing to do.”

Cassie laughed. “That’s a lot of over-explaining you’re doing right there, but okay, Beau.”

He rolled his eyes, but he had to smile. “Okay, that’s it. I’m gonna have to insist you get off my property.”

“Off what, your tin can?” she retorted.

“Hey! She can hear you.”

Beau wiped the sweat from his brow strategically while he carried his end (the heavier end, he might add) of your couch. He and Jenny were trying to get it up the stairwell to your apartment on the second floor.

“Okay now, just pivot on this corner,” he instructed. “Pivot!”

Jenny nearly dropped her end out of sheer aggravation. Her blue eyes cut down to his.

“If you say pivot one more time, I’m gonna shoot you,” she snapped.

Beau whistled in amusement. “Threatening to shoot the sheriff. Now that’s at least a misdemeanor.”

Right as he could almost see the fumes coming out of his deputy’s ears, you hustled up the stairs to help them. You picked up the middle to make it easier.

“Okay, we can do this! I think we can just tip it on its side to get it around the corner,” you said.

To everyone’s relief, your suggestion worked. Denise held the door open while the three of you got the couch up to the second floor, then into your apartment. Once the couch was successfully in the living room, you went to the kitchen and grabbed a few bottles of water out of the fridge. You handed one each to Beau and Jenny.

“Thank you guys again so much for doing this,” you said, still catching your breath. You surveyed all the boxes and furniture you all had brought in, and you realized you were crazy to think you and Denise could’ve done all of this by yourselves.

“It’s our pleasure,” Beau nodded. He gestured to his sweating face and neck. “But do you have a towel or a rag or something? You’re about to be mopping me off the floor in a minute.”

“Yeah, of course. Hold on,” you said. You went back into the kitchen and retrieved a clean hand towel. Beau used it to dry his face, neck, and the top of his chest.

You tried not to stare at the flash of tan skin near the collar of his plain gray shirt, or the wet spots clinging to his back. The sleeves were tight around his arms and across his chest, leading you to believe that despite being in his mid-forties, he kept himself in shape.

Meanwhile, Jenny drank her water, and pretended not to notice you staring at her boss. Part of her was amused, but a good part of her felt an unfamiliar sting as well.

“Okay,” Beau clapped a hand on his jean-clad thigh after he drained his own water bottle. “What’s next?”

Your face warmed, because you knew what your aunt was about to say before she said it.

“Oh, I think it’s just your bed, right honey?” she asked you.

“All right, let’s do it. Frame, headboard, box spring, and mattress, I assume,” Beau said, rubbing his sweaty hands together. He stretched his arms in preparation.

Again, you had to admire the way his shirt pulled across his tall, broad frame. But you followed after him when he started heading out the door.

“Wait, you shouldn’t do it by yourself!” you called out, and quickly followed after him.

Denise shot Jenny and Cassie a highly amused look.

“That's what she saaaid,” Denise sing-songed. The other two women grimaced.

“Wow. That’s your niece!” Cassie exclaimed.

“And technically my boss, thanks,” Jenny added.

“What, they’re cute, aren’t they?” Denise said, gesturing at the way you and Beau left.

“This from the woman who’s been lusting after that man since the minute he got into town,” Cassie retorted.

“Well, I’m woman enough to bow out when I’ve been thwarted. By my own blood no less,” Denise replied, but her mischievous smile said it all as she breezed back into the kitchen to start unpacking the silverware for you.

She knew for a fact that you’d made dinner for later—and not just because she’d told you how much Beau liked lasagna.

Beau accepted your help, along with Cassie and Jenny’s in bringing up all the parts of your bed. He just insisted on utilizing his own power tools to put it together.

That was how you found yourself holding the headboard up straight while Beau made sure the frame was aligned. It wasn’t as easy as it looked; the wood panels had to slide into the notch in the headboard just so, before he could start drilling the bolts back in.

“Damn it,” he muttered, when one panel of the frame nearly slipped out of his hand.

“Can you actually use that power drill?” Cassie asked. “Because you’re pretty hopeless with cars.”

Beau rolled his eyes, despite his smile. “Save the belittling for later. Tryin’ to concentrate.”

After a few more minutes of sweating, mild cursing, and internal praying, you, Beau, and Cassie managed to get the bedframe put together with the headboard. Then the box spring, and finally the mattress. It marked the official end of moving in.

While Beau, Cassie, and Jenny took a much-deserved rest sitting on the couch with a round of beers, you went to the kitchen where your aunt had already preheated the oven for you. Now you just needed to pull out the two massive pans of lasagna you’d prepared the night before—as a thank you for everyone who came to help you.

Denise sidled up to you and touched your arm to get your attention.

“Good job inviting our dear Beau to lift furniture for us,” she whispered, waggling her brows. You shot her a look and shushed her.

“Do you always flirt with him like this?” you asked incredulously.

“Well, I might have to do it less blatantly if he’s gonna keep playing Mr. White Knight for you,” she teased.

“He is not. He’s just…nice,” you whispered back. “So are Cassie and Jenny.”

Denise gave you an amused look. “Mhmm.”

You rolled your eyes and focused on getting dinner ready.

Within the hour, the five of you were sat at your new modest dining table between the kitchen and the living room, eating lasagna and drinking iced tea. Jenny and Beau had beers alongside them, and conversation drifted from how you intended to set up the apartment, to Cassie’s still open missing backpacker case.

The parents were even more worried now, saying it was out of character for him not to check in with a phone call, despite the email he’d apparently sent them a few days ago. Beau had agreed to give Cassie whatever help she needed on the periphery, especially if further evidence revealed itself on the backpacker’s whereabouts.

Beau was already on his second helping of lasagna when he raised his gaze to you, right across from him at the table.

“Clearly you get your cooking skills from your aunt, because this is fantastic,” he said.

Denise twittered. You blushed a little as you smiled.

“Thank you. I’m glad you like it.”

There was a short lull, filled by the tapping of silverware on plates, before Denise spoke up.

“By the way,” she said, looking to you and Beau. “Did you two have a productive time at grief counseling? What did you talk about?”

It was a well-meaning, but perhaps intrusive question. Both you and Beau tensed up. Cassie gave Denise a warning look.

“Oh, I’m sorry. You guys don’t have to answer that,” Denise amended.

“Um, it’s okay,” you replied. “It wasn’t too bad…I think I might go again.”

Beau had a warmer smile for you. “That’s good.”

You were able to return his smile. You turned to Cassie next.

“You went there for a while, right?” you asked. Cassie nodded.

“It was helpful,” she said. “I’m glad you’re getting something out of it.”

You took that with a nod, and returned your gaze to Beau.

“Have you been going there long?” you asked him.

He tilted his head. “Actually, yesterday was my first time too.”

Your eyes widened. “Oh, really?”

Cassie was intrigued at the way this little scene was playing out. Thought she caught the look on Jenny’s face while she watched it too. Like Jenny was studying them, not sure what to make of it all.

Beau wore a self-deprecating smile.

“Yeah. Just…hadn’t gotten around to it,” he answered you.

There was a heaviness in his voice and in his eyes that you didn’t miss, but you didn’t want to make him uncomfortable in a room full of people, even if they were his friends.

“Well, I’ll go again if you do,” you offered, a bit bolder than you felt. Beau met your eyes across the table, and his lips lifted at the corners.

“All right,” he said. “You got yourself a deal, miss ma’am.”

You fought against a blush rising up your neck. You glanced down and took a sip of your iced tea.

“Look at you. Pulling out your ‘sheriff’ voice,” Cassie teased.

“Like a rhinestone cowboy…” you sang into your glass. Your smile peeked out around the corners of it.

Most of the table laughed. Jenny smiled, but opted for drinking her beer.

Meanwhile, Beau gave you a mock look of betrayal. His true amusement shone through his eyes.

“I see how this is. Gang up on the Texan time,” he remarked.

That gave Cassie an opening to ask you something, and hopefully get to know you better. Already she had an instinct about you: she liked you. And clearly Beau seemed to as well. Cassie tended to be more cautious about people, even if you were Denise’s family.

“So how are you liking the Midwest so far?” Cassie asked you.

“So far? It’s the fresh air I needed,” you replied.

“Oh, you should check out that art studio you wanted to see,” Denise chimed in.

“You’re an artist too?” Beau asked, raising a brow. You chuckled.

“No, just an amateur with a handful of brushes,” you replied.

You remembered the peace you’d gotten while painting in sight of the mountains. But when you got to Denise’s house, you’d hidden away those canvases, not wanting to be reminded of that week at Sunny Day Excursions. And of Mary.

“Oh, but have you gone horseback riding yet?” Denise asked. “I know you were gonna try on your camping trip—”

You loved your aunt. You really did, but she also had a knack for putting her foot in her mouth. The others quieted as you dimmed at the actual mention of that God-forsaken place.

“I tried,” you said. “I never actually managed to make it on the horse.”

“Aw, well if you ever want to go, there’s a stable in town. They give lessons too,” Denise said.

You nodded and forced a smile. You went back to picking at the remnants of lasagna and salad on your plate.

When everyone began to filter out of your new apartment, each with their own set of well-wishing and a container of leftovers to take home, Beau ended up being last to leave. You had followed him to the door, where you handed him his tupperware of leftovers, and he thanked you in appreciation.

“Now I just need a microwave,” he said. “My toaster oven’s been on the fritz.”

Your brows rose in amusement. “You have a toaster oven, but not a microwave?”

“Well, let’s just say my trailer doesn’t exactly have a whole lot of space for appliances,” Beau replied, chuckling.

You smiled at that. You hesitated, but you eventually touched his hand that held the tupperware.

“Thank you again for coming here, for helping me…and for yesterday,” you said.

Beau almost didn’t realize it, but his face was getting warm. As warm as your pretty smile.

“Well, you’re very welcome,” he said. “And just puttin’ it out there, I may or may not have been riding a horse before I could walk. First memory I have is my dad putting me on Old Bess when I was four. She nearly kicked me off…not that that would happen to you. I’m just saying—”

“I see.” Your giggle ended with a smirk. Beau tended to ramble. You weren’t sure if it was a nervous tick, or just a facet of his upbeat personality…but you found it endearing.

He leveled you with a grin. “Listen, what I mean to say is, if you’re serious about wanting to learn how to ride, I could teach you. It’s not that hard.”

You bit your lip, mentally beginning to weigh out the pros and cons. To be honest, you still had reservations, both on riding a horse, and on Beau being the one to teach you. Was he just being nice, your “friendly neighborhood sheriff,” or was your aunt onto something?

…You weren’t sure, but your instincts told you that at the very least, you could trust him with this. And trust had become hard for you to give any man.

“Okay, cowboy. Let’s ride,” you said. And you even surprised yourself with the flirtatious note in your voice.

Beau’s grin kicked up a notch. You then exchanged numbers so you could hash out the details of when and where to meet sometime soon. Hopefully soon.

Then you wished him a good night.

“G’night, darlin’,” he said. He lingered in the hallway for a parting grin. “And welcome home.”

Your answering smile warmed him, long after he left your door.

AN: *rubs hands together* We're really getting into it now. 😂 Finally we have the big reveal of why she left Chicago, and the start of her and Beau's bond. You'll see more of that, and of Emily, in the next chapter...

Next Time:

You gasped and gripped even tighter with your thighs. With almost everything you had.

You were still far too unsteady for comfort on this damn horse. The poor animal whinnied, tossing his head back with a huff. Unfortunately, that just made you tense up even more as you held onto his neck.

Beau tried not to laugh. You looked like a cat clinging to the edge of a bath.

“Okay, you needa relax a little,” he said. “He ain’t gonna buck you, long as you don’t give him a reason to.”

You shot him a narrowed look.

▶️ Keep Reading: PART 4

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#Welcome Home #Take Me Home #Part 3 #Beau Arlen series #big sky #beau arlen #beau arlen x reader #beau arlen x female reader #Emily Arlen #beau arlen x you #Jensen Ackles characters #big sky season 3 #Denise Brisbane #Jenny Hoyt #Cassie Dewell #zepskies writes

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mikkokomori · 1 year

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"Oh, the Kaneko's? Well, ever since they've moved in, they have been just the loveliest of neighbors! They are the definition of the perfect neighbor!"

"Right..... but don't you feel there's something... off about them?"

"What do you mean?"

#i've been looking through horror concepts lately my bad #tomorrow is......my birthday.......im wondering what i should do so if i dont end up drawing anything for it #then at least youll have this as compensation ig.#omori au #omori #omori sunny #omori mari #mari and sunnys mom #mari and sunnys father #omori fanart #but the idea of a family growing attached to one person and wanting to keep said person with them.....#like what can you do? its you against a group of 4. youll never escape.#mikos art #miko panta

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zipsunz · 11 months

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montoya family doodle dump + more designs for me and @sunkitty143's botw au !!

aubrey was the rito champion. known for her love of bomb arrows, kel had a knack for bringing out her more rough, competitive side. she had trouble making friends, but she clicked well with mari and basil. i liked the male rito hairstyle more so i went with that =w=

basil was the zora champion! a gentle healer who had a particular love for plants. he was best friends with sunny and had known him and mari ever since they were born. i felt like mipha's species and design fit him best, so i went with her for more inspiration over sidon.

hero (and by extension, his entire family) hail from lurelin village. his father was a royal knight before eventually retiring for a quieter fisherman life. sally was less than a year old when the calamity struck. they all survived, though they believed that kel had died.

sally is the oldest person in lurelin village and one of the few hylians left who were alive before the calamity. she grew up with stories of her brother and the royal family he had died protecting. to this day, she still wears a part of the bracelet hero had worn as a young man.

hero never married or found anyone else after losing mari, but his life was a fulfilling one. he's fondly remembered by sally's children and extensive family as the hero of lurelin village due to dedicating his life to keeping the community safe and prosperous.

#omori #botw sunkel au #omori kel #omori hero #omori aubrey #omori basil #omori sally #my art #cat collab

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 7 months

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The Grey Zone 4

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon, manipulation, age gap, bullying, toxic parental figures, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Your relationship with your parents has never been good, and that with a family friend takes a strange turn(goth!reader)

Character: Lloyd Hansen

Note: We're back

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)

Your bedroom door swings open, the handle knocking against the short shelf of figures behind it. You clutch the black skirt in your hands and face your mother as she gives you that look. The one dripping in disappointment and loathing. She’s hungover, you can tell by how she squints.

“Are you not ready yet?” She sneers, a Louis bag dangling from her elbow.

“Almost,” you assure her, rolling your tongue nervously, “mom, are you sure I should come? Work isn’t very happy about the time off and–”

“How dare you,” she accuses, flinching at the spark of her own temper, bringing her manicure to her temple, “Lloyd has been very nice in inviting us all to the lake house and I will not have you spoil it with your attitude.”

“I wasn’t trying to… I just thought…”

“Stop thinking,” she points at you with a long shellacked nail, “you’ll ruin everything.”

You snap your mouth shut. For her, this is another vacation. You know her plans don’t extend past wine and naps in the sun. And it is supposed to be a ‘family trip’. If you don’t go, your father might just tell her to stay behind too. It’s not that she wants you to go, but she wants to be sure she gets to go.

“I’ll be ready in like ten,” you spin back to your bed and tuck the skirt into your duffle.

“Make it five,” she huffs with the click of her tongue.

She prances off and you shake your head at the stacks of clothes in front of you. You cut it down as you roll up each piece to fit into your bag. You don’t need much. You shove your chest of makeup at the end and tuck your toiletry pouch inside.

You grab your leather knapsack and slide your laptop inside with your textbooks. You wonder if you’ll even have a signal all the way up north. If not, you’ll have a lot of catching up to do. Oh well, maybe it will be nice to get away. Or maybe you’ll be in hell, trapped in an isolated cabin with your own parents.

And him.

You shove a few novels in along with your computer and zip it up. You drag your stuff towards the door and grab your jacket from the clothes rack against the far wall. The long black trench goes well over your wide-leg curtain paints and razor back halter. You pop on a wide brimmed black hat and your favourite pair of sunglasses; black lenses framed with silver.

You grab your bags and haul them out of your room, making the slow and perilous descent to the first floor. You leave your bags right behind your mother’s pile of matching Louis luggage and wiggle your feet into your clunky Mary Janes.

Your mother emerges with a sunhat and a pair of large square framed sunglasses. She winks at you as she tucks a flask into her purse. You say nothing and cross your legs, perching on the bench impatiently.

“Is that what you’re wearing?” She harrumphs.

“Yeah?” You look down.

“You don’t have anything… lighter? It’s sunny out.”

You shrug, “we’ll just be in the car.”

You stare at her bags. How much does she need to bring? The physics of packing all of it into the SUV worries you. You fully expect to be crammed in next to her bandouliere bag.

“Constance!” Your father’s voice booms as his steps pound onto the porch. You look at the screen door as he rips it open, “well,” he stops short inside, “I told you to start bringing your shit out.”

“I told you, my shoulder,” your mother pouts, “yell at your daughter, she’s the one sitting around.”

Your father huffs and grabs her largest bag, pointing at you then the rest of her things, “well, let’s get this going. I don’t wanna be driving past midnight.”

You get up and grab two of the lighter bags. You roll your eyes behind your lenses, knowing you won’t be caught. You follow your father out the front door, the weight of your mother’s excess chafing your fingers. What did she pack?

The hatch door of the SUV is already open. Your father’s things are neatly placed against the wall of the trunk. He hikes up your mother’s suitcase in the other side and it takes up much of the remaining space. You place the two in hand on top and ponder the last three. It’s like a very unfortunate game of Tetris.

“Go,” your father snaps his fingers, “get the rest.”

You don’t argue. As you come up on the porch, your mother emerges with a bright pink travel tumbler in hand, slurping on the straw as your left to wonder at the contents. You dip inside and retrieve her smallest bags; a perfect circular valise and two more oblong ones.

You hand them off to your father and he grumbles under his breath as he tries to fit them into the hatch. You return to the house to get your own bags. You won’t mind sitting with your own things.

The backseat offers little hope as you find a large cooler taking up more than half of its length and fishing rods across the floor. So, where exactly are you supposed to sit?

As you stare, perplexed by the puzzle of your own belonging, a horn toots and a car rolls up the driveway, coming just short of your father as he turns to stare down the Bentley. You keep your knapsack on your shoulder and your bag clutched tight.

You face Mr. Hansen as he climbs out of his car, leaning on the door as he looks over it at your dad, “Ray Ray, ready to go?”

“Just loading up,” your father answers.

“Holy shit,” Mr. Hansen snorts, “you know you’re not moving in for good, right?”

“Connie’s shit,” your father snarls.

Hansen shuts his car door as he strides up the tarmac. His focus shifts as he sees you standing listless. He flicks his sunglasses up and gives a crooked smirk.

“Hey, sunshine,” he greets, “uh, Ray,” he stops, just a few inches from you, pivoting towards the back of the SUV, “where exactly is the baby girl supposed to fit? You strapping her to the roof?”

“She’ll squeeze in,” you father dimisses.

“For eight hours?” Hansen’s fingers tickle along the back of your arm and he squeezes just above his elbow, “I got lots of room.”

“I don’t care. Take her, then,” your father barks, “I got Lonny bringing up supplies, I don’t needa worry about all that.”

“Hear that, starbright, go toss your things in mine,” Hansen twirls his keyring and holds it out to you, “lots of legroom.”

“Um, it’s fine–”

“Don’t argue,” your father slams the hatch door. “He’s right, we don’t got the space.”

You could suggest your mother leaves a few things behind but you know that will only end the same. You take Hansen’s keys and thank him. He grins and steps back, not much, just enough for you to pass, just close enough for you to brush against him.

You go down the drive, surprised to find yourself trailed by another set of steps. You glance over your shoulder as Hansen circles around you, “bottom button, sunny.”

You hit the fob and the trunk pops open. He seizes your bag before you can react and puts it in next to his. You slip your knapsack down your arm and he just as quickly has it in hand.

“Couldn’t imagine eight hours in a car with those two,” he says quietly, “you’re welcome.”

“Uh, yeah, thanks.”

You cross your arms and step back as he closes the trunk. He keeps his hand on the sleek pant and eyes you up and down. He tilts his head and his tongue pokes out.

“You feel like driving,” he asks, “I don’t mind.” He pats the butt of the car, “she handles well.”

“Um, it’s okay…”

“Come on, you get the first hour and we can switch at the rest stop,” he goads, “I woke up fuckshit early.”

“Alright, I guess,” you keep the keys in your hand and go to step around him.

“Wait, wait,” he blocks your path, “one more thing.”

“Alright?” You frown.

“I didn’t say…” he reaches to tap the brim of your hat, “you look fucking good.”

You don’t know how to respond. You’re unused to compliments and a simple thank you would do but something about his tone has you tongue-tied. You wipe away your chagrin and try to smile. Your lips just quiver and fall straight.

“Right, let’s stop dragging ass,” he spins and struts up the driveway, “Ray,” he calls to your dad, “here’s the spare key. In case you get ahead of us.”

You chew your lip and slowly walk along the side of the car. You unlock the doors and open the driver’s side. You reticently get in and take off your hat, twisting to throw it in the backseat. You turn straight and adjust the seat and steering wheel. It’s a really nice car.

The passenger door opens and Lloyd drops in, sliding the seat all the way back as he stretches his legs. You leave the keys in the cupholder and push the ignition. The engine rolls as you take in the breadth of controls. Nothing too unusual.

“What’s that shade of lipstick called?” Lloyd leans on the armrest of his seat, “how many shades of black can they sell?”

“Um, I don’t know,” you fix the mirror.

“Like those glasses. Where’d you get them?”

“Amazon,” you answer as you shift into reverse, the camera showing on the console screen. You grip the wheel and slowly back out.

“Now, don’t be afraid to put that foot down once we hit the highway,” he says, “she’s got a lot of power. She can handle it.”

“Mhmm,” you stop at the end of the driveway and look both ways down the street. “Got it.”

🖤

As promised, you trade places with Lloyd after the first hour. He’s a bit more heavy-footed and you find yourself with your hand on the door as you brace yourself with his careless and aggressive passing. You’re a cautious driver and his style has you almost dizzy. You’re not bold enough to tell him to slow down.

“Isn’t this nice?” He asks, “no squabbling middle-aged assholes to listen to.”

“Sure,” you grasp the seat belt as you keep a wary gaze through the windshield.

“Hopefully it’s only more of this, baby,” he continues, “my house, my rules. You don’t worry about mommy and daddy.”

You nod and hold back a squeak as he swoops in front of another car. You wish you had kept driving. You hate this.

“I’ll be working on my tan as daddy does all the hard work,” he scoffs, “been a long year.”

You listen, almost curious as he’s rarely anything close to transparent. You would never imagine him having a bad day. He seems to carry it with that no fucks given strut. He swerves again and you can’t help but elicit a rather pathetic noise.

“Mr. Hansen, can you… slow down a little?” You ask.

He doesn’t answer right away but he does as you request. “I get it, you wanna enjoy our time together,” he snickers.

“Uh, well, I get a bit carsick,” you utter.

“Ah,” he accepts with an air of disappointment, “can I ask you something?”

“Okay.”

“Can you call me Lloyd? This Mr. Hansen business makes me feel old as shit. I’m not, you know, I got all my faculties,” he lets out a small chuckle, “just so you know.”

“Right, Lloyd, sorry,” you say, “dad just… you’re his friend so he–”

“Yeah, real tight ass but damn good at what he does. The biggest fuckers always are,” he scoffs.

“I guess…”

“So, those girls, they bug you again?” He keeps the same pace in conversation as he does driving. You’re disoriented by the flip.

“Haven’t seen them, no…”

“You know, they’re just jealous,” he says, “I know girls like that. I’ve f– met a lot. They’re not worth it.” He shakes his head and laughs, “hate to say it, but your mom is one of those. Never a nice thing to say about anyone but herself.”

You lean into the seat and bend your arms in front of your stomach. You know that. Deep down, you know your family is imperfect, you just didn’t realise how obvious it is.

“You’re young. Shit’s tough when you’re figuring it out.”

“Yeah,” you murmur.

“You got Spotify or something?” He asks abruptly, once more jarring you. “Got bluetooth in here. May as well put something on, we got time.”

“Right, uh, I could…” you dig your phone out as he pushes buttons on the steering wheel with his thumb. The screen flashes with the pairing symbol.

You find the right connection and scroll through your playlists. You don’t know if he’ll like any of those. Maybe you could find something generic.

“What do you like?” You ask.

He answers with a chortle, “nah, you put something on. I wanna hear your music.”

“Well, it’s a bit… of an acquired taste.”

“My car, my rules, put your music on,” he demands.

You resign and tap shuffle on your weekly mix. Joy Division drones from the random selection and you black out the screen. You’re comforted by the familiar tones.

“Holy fuck,” Lloyd says, “this is old shit. Before my time, even.”

“Uh, yeah,” you reply, “it’s just a shuffle–”

“Not complaining,” he smirks, “glad I actually know this one.”

You exhale and try to relax. It’s going to be a long ride and you're thankful he opened that door. You don’t know how much longer you could handle his chaotic conversation. Only six hours or so, you can make it if you have music.

#lloyd hansen #dark lloyd hansen #dark!lloyd hansen #lloyd hansen x reader #fic #dark fic #dark!fic #series #the grey zone #the gray man

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