#and now i feel like Such Utter Dogshit for even trying to turn against him in the first place

[happystarzarchive]

ashurs apology rly makin me go from “mr electric KILL HIM‼️‼️” to “nevermind . kill Me actually”

[thewhumperinwhite]

Café: Treetops

Previous: Teaser 1, Teaser 2, Hospital/Squad Car, Empty Bar, Used Car Lot 1, Used Car Lot 2, Gas Station, Roadside 1, Roadside 2, Forest

TW for: illness/fever, mention of decapitation/murder, smoking mention, very lightly implied parental neglect, Thing That Seems Like Deadnaming For A Second But Take This As My Personal Guarantee That Sol’s Deadname Will Never Be Said Out Loud In This Story.

Also i’m not gonna check but i think this might be the first chapter where Sol smiles? so look forward to that.

@whumpitywhumpwhump

----

Rainwater is dripping from Sol’s hair down the bridge of his nose and soaking into his shirt collar, even though if you asked him five minutes ago he’d have told you his poor abused work shirt had absorbed literally all the liquid it could physically hold. 

“Just for the record,” Kent says in a slightly breathless voice, “when I used the phrase ‘huddled in trees,’ that was sarcasm.”

Sol thinks about rolling his eyes, but given that nobody would see it from this angle, he doesn’t bother and just leaves his eyes closed instead.

“Funny,” Pax snaps, sounding, at least, no longer pretend-cheerful. “When I told you to shut the fuck up, I was serious.” Sol can hear them shifting, but doesn’t turn to look, partly because he does not care and partly because he thinks he might fall out of the tree if he tries.

“I think you should both shut up,” he says flatly, knowing he’s wasting his fucking breath.

It does earn him almost a full minute of silence, which is a step up, technically.

“The bleeders are too clumsy to climb trees,” Pax says testily, apparently unable to help themself. “Therefore, being the wonderful, coordinated living beings that we are, we are taking advantage of that weakness.”

“I know that,” Kent says, also sounding slightly testy, but even more tired and kind of in pain. “I am aware of the logic, but I gotta say that I am not feeling super coordinated at the moment.”

“I know that,” Sol growls. “I was the one who had to help you up, and since we are all fuckin’ exhausted from that little ordeal, how about we all just go the fuck to sleep, huh?”

Kent makes a noise that is probably supposed to convey irritation but just sounds sort of— pathetic. “I can’t sleep. I don’t understand how either of you can sleep when it’s so hot up here.”

Sol blinks his eyes open. That— does not sound like a great sign.

Careful not to overbalance and throw himself off the narrow branch currently supporting his ass, Sol cranes around the trunk of the tree to squint through the driving rain at Kent, who is leaning back against the tree with his eyes closed. Sol half-carried him up this bigass goddamn tree and set him with more care than he wants to admit in the stablest position he could find, at the fork of two large branches, but at the moment his perch there looks kind of precarious.

Checking to see that Paxon, on the opposite side and several branches higher than either himself of Kent, probably can’t see— not that he cares what they think— he leans carefully forward to lay his wrist against Kent’s forehead. It’s hard to be sure of anything when the freezing rain has turned his hands and arms into icicles, but the heat coming off Kent’s face almost makes him jump.

“Aw, great,” he mumbles, grabbing hold of his own branch so he can lean forward a little more to examine Kent’s face, which, now that he’s looking, does have kind of a greenish cast to it. “Hey, man,” he says softly, giving Kent a gentle poke on a part of his cheekbone that doesn’t seem to be bruised yet. “How ya feeling?”

Without opening his eyes, Kent heaves a tired sigh that turns halfway through into a cough. Sol freezes like a popsicle, going very quickly back over the last several hours to try and determine whether one of the bleeders could possibly have bitten him without Sol noticing— but Kent’s brief coughing fit fails to bring up any red-flecked phlegm, so Sol tries to reel in his panic. He doesn’t sound crazy, anyway— just sick. 

“Not very good,” Kent croaks, letting his eyes drift open. They look kinda glassy, but Sol sees with knee-weakening relief that they are not particularly bloodshot. “Too warm. And also shivery.”

“I fuckin’ bet,” Sol says. “You look like microwaved dogshit, dude.”

Sol chews his lip, something uncomfortably close to worry churning in his stomach. When he doesn’t move away, Kent laughs faintly, though it turns into a cough at the end.

“You sure you want to get that close?” he asks, smiling a little, though it doesn’t come close to reaching his eyes. Sol doesn’t think Kent’s smiles usually do, actually.

Sol blinks. “Huh?”

“Aren’t you worried I’ll suddenly decide to take a bite out of your arm?” Kent says, and it sounds like it’s trying to be a joke but isn’t quite making it.

Sol stares at him for a second. Then he snorts.

“Please,” Sol says, smirking. “You? I could definitely take you, crazy or not, you fucking stick. Besides, look.” Sol fishes around in the pockets of his sopping-wet jacket, ignoring Kent’s look of utter confusion.

His lighter is freezing and dripping wet, and who knows if it’ll still work as an actual lighter after this, but it makes a serviceable mirror, in a pinch. He holds it up so that Kent is blinking into his own wide blue eyes.

“See?” Sol says, and is surprised at the softness of his own voice. “Not a drop of blood in sight, man. You’re probably just feverish from running around in the mud with open cuts and stuff.”

“Heartening,” Kent says, reaching up to change the angle of Sol’s grip.

“That’s what I’m here for,” Sol says, smirking.

And then Sol suddenly realizes that Kent’s hand is wrapped loosely around his own, and is horrified to feel his own cheeks heating up, which is--so fucking stupid.

“Who’s ‘Rina’?” he asks curiously, blinking down at the lighter, and Sol starts badly, jerking his hand away like Kent’s question burns his fingers.

“No one,” he barks, shoving the lighter back into his pocket, leaving Kent with his hand still outstretched and lips parted slightly in surprise.

“Oh,” Kent says, blinking. “Uh, sorry, I didn’t mean to— “ He pulls back, looking carefully anywhere but at Sol’s face. “Sorry.”

Sol stares at Kent. Kent stares at the unnervingly-far-away ground.

Goddammit, it’s like kicking a puppy.

“Ugh,” Sol growls, running a hand through his hair. “Look, fine, whatever, don’t look at me like that— Karine is my little sister, okay? She always hated it when I smoked, so she used to steal my lighter all the time. That’s why it’s— that’s why.”

He had been very mad at the time, in high school at some point, when he had finally wrestled his lighter back from her— after almost a week of searching and shouting half-hearted threats at her when their father wasn’t home, which was often— only to find that she had scratched Sol Sux Shit on one side and her own big girly signature on the other, with a big fucking heart around it. He didn’t talk to her for a few days after that.

He didn’t throw the lighter away, though, either. That was junior year, or thereabouts; he’d been Sol for a short enough time that seeing the name scratched permanently into metal was--something, even if it was followed by the words “sux shit.”

It’s been— Christ, almost four years since he’s seen her, which means she’s all grown up and definitely has at least two boyfriends by now. That thought makes him unconsciously ball up his fists, and then he’s distracted by the sound of Kent laughing at him.

“Wha— what are you laughing at?” Goddammit, is he blushing again?

“I’m s-sorry,” Kent says, amid honest-to-god giggles. “I-it’s just— your face—!”

Sol just barely resists the urge to cover his cheeks, trying to will the heat back out of them. “Sh-shut up, I was just—” He pulls up short. “H-hey— are you okay?”

Kent is doubled up with hard, damp-sounding coughs, so much so that Sol has to dart out a hand to keep him from falling forward off the branch.

“Kent— hey—”

As he’s readjusting himself to hold up Kent’s weight without falling off his own branch, there’s a rustling in the branches above them, and Paxon Field drops abruptly onto the end of Kent’s branch, like an enormous pink cat.

“Let me see your hand,” they say sharply. When Kent doesn’t immediately respond, they reach forward to tug his hand away from his face.

“Hey!” Sol snaps, trying to shove them back, “what the hell are you—”

“Shut up,” Pax says, turning Kent’s hand over so they can examine both sides. Finding no blood on it, they relax, their hand sliding off the hilt of their sword.

“Idiot,” they say, not unkindly, and reach up to lay their wrist against Kent’s forehead. Kent, his coughing fit finally starting to subside, lets them, his weight pressing into Sol’s chest in a way that is— neither embarrassing nor pleasant but in fact entirely neutral, fuck you. Pax sighs. “You’re burning up, you dumbass.”

“That’s not exactly his fault,” Sol snaps, to his own surprise more than anyone else’s. Pax raises their eyebrows at him. Kent’s eyes flutter shut. “Well,” Sol goes on, into Pax’s surprised stare. “We’ve been wandering around in the rain for a long time. He’s got— broken bones and stuff.”

Paxon gives Sol a look he can’t quite read, and then frowns down at Kent, whose cheek now sits just under Sol’s collarbone, like coughing has used up all his remaining energy. “How long have you been feelin’ the shivers, sunshine?” they bark.

Grumbling like an annoyed child, Kent turns away from Paxon, which involves burying his face against the sodden front of Sol’s shirt. Sol freezes, a violent electrical current making its way up his spine. When Kent mumbles his answer (which is unintelligible but seems to contain the words “the car”), Sol can feel his lips move against his chest, and would readjust if he could move. ...probably.

“Then it’s entirely your fault, you daft idiot,” Paxon snaps, annoyed. “Why the hell didn’t you say anything?”

Kent turns back, opening one blue eye. “I suppose,” he says coldly, “I was worried you’d decapitate me.”

Paxon, to Sol’s surprise, starts like they’ve been hit. There’s a very awkward silence. Sol is afflicted with a bizarre desire to laugh.

Then Paxon growls, long and low, and starts their descent out of the tree.

“Uh,” Sol calls after them. “Where are you going?”

“To get sunshine some medicine, I guess,” they shout back, bitterly. “Since neither of you is in any way equipped for survival, apparently.”

Sol stares down at the top of their head as they make their weirdly nimble way down out of the tree. Then he looks down at Kent, who is also frowning down at Paxon’s retreating form.

“Someone should go with them,” Kent mutters.

Sol shifts uncomfortably. “You can’t stay in this tree by yourself.”

An embarrassed flush makes its way into Kent’s pale cheeks, and he shoots Sol an apologetic look from under his lashes. Sol’s brain stops working for a second and he misses what Kent says next, but makes an educated guess that it’s some variation of “sorry for the trouble.”

“Don’t be dumb,” he says, biting his lip.

Sol runs through their options in his head, and from the unhappy look on Kent’s face he suspects the blonde is doing the same.

“Fuck,” Sol mutters, and then, making sure Kent has a firm grip on the tree trunk to go with the confused look on his face, turns himself very carefully around on his own branch so his back is to Kent, the blonde’s bony knees digging into his back slightly.

“Um,” Kent says.

“Shut up,” Sol snaps. “Put your arms around my shoulders. Try not to choke me or we will both fall and die.”

“Um,” says Kent.

Sol takes a moment to bury his rapidly-reddening face in his hands and groan because why does shit like this keep happening to him. “Paxon shouldn’t go by themself, and you can’t stay here or climb down. This is the only fucking solution, okay? I don’t like it anymore than you do, so shut up and get on.”

There’s another terrible silence, which Sol uses to pray to anybody who might be listening to give him a fucking break already.

Moving carefully, like he’s waiting for Sol to stop him, Kent slides his slim arms around Sol’s shoulders, knitting his fingers together around Sol’s chest and being careful to avoid his windpipe. After a moment’s hesitation, he moves closer, awkwardly scooting forward so his legs are wrapped around Sol’s waist.

Sol, very aware of Kent’s chest and biceps and thighs, clears his throat loudly.

“Okay,” he says, trying his very best to sound businesslike. “I need my hands to do the tree-climbing thing, so hold on, yeah?”

Sol can feel the heat coming off of Kent’s face where it’s buried against his shoulder even through the thick wool of his jacket, though he can’t tell how much of that is the fever and how much is embarrassment roughly equivalent— if there is a loving god— to his own.

“Yeah,” Kent mumbles miserably into Sol’s jacket. Sol feels a slightly insane giggle building in his chest. 

“Okay,” Sol says slowly. “I am now moving to the next branch over. You good?”

“Perfect,” Kent says in a very muffled voice, and shifts slightly against Sol’s back. Sol clears his throat again, and reaches out for the next branch, shifting so that he’s carrying most of Kent’s weight.

“Christ, do you ever eat?” he says before they can stop himself. God, maybe they will make it to the ground, after all. “My sister’s cat weighs more than you.”

Kent, his face very warm indeed, chooses not to respond. In fact, he keeps his mouth mercifully shut for almost the whole awkward, painful climb down, and Sol’s left foot is actually on solid ground when he finally mumbles, so low Sol can’t be entirely sure of the words, “Thanks, Sol. You’re wonderful.”

Sol freezes with one foot still on the lowest branch, feeling an unfamiliar sort of heat spreading in the center of his chest. Before he can stop it, his mouth twitches into something that feels suspiciously like a grin.

The feeling fades pretty quickly when he turns and sees the color Pax is turning from trying to hold in their amusement. Seeing Sol’s fiery glare and immediate, violent blush, they give up and throw their head back, sending bright peals of laughter up into the still-raining sky.

Sol bristles, his hands tightening under Kent’s thighs. “Sh-shut up! Don’t— don’t laugh at me!”

Pax laughs hard, holding their stomach. “Your face!” they crow delightedly. “You’re turning purple, babe!”

Sol’s blush doesn’t get any worse, but probably only because there’s no more blood left in the rest of him. “Shut up!” he squawks. “It’s your fault for leaving us up there, anyway!”

Pax shakes their head, grinning. “I didn’t say you had to come with me,” they point out. 

“Kent didn’t want you wandering off by yourself,” Sol snaps, looking over his shoulder. “Did y— oh.”

Kent, his lips slightly parted and rain making his long lashes sparkle a little in the moonlight, has rested his head against Sol’s shoulder and is breathing long and steady, his breath making faint snuffling noises through his broken nose.

Sol stares a little.

“What’s up with sunshine?” Paxon says, a trace of worry in their voice. “He’s not dead, is he?”

“No,” Sol says, a confused smile spreading over his face. “I think he’s fallen asleep.” Looking carefully anywhere but at Paxon’s stupid smug grin, he clears his throat. “Let’s just go. I’ll carry him. He isn’t heavy.”

[joeycupcakerichter]

Zach Dempsey - Cheat p2

A/N: So I got a request to continue Cheat and I knew pretty much how I wanted to continue so now I present to you~~~! The longest thing I’ve written so far! 😂

Request: Yes, by anon.

Pairing: Zach x Reader

Warnings: BRYCE IS IN THIS DOING GROSS BRYCE THINGS. It doesn’t get far for Zachary reasons but it happens, and I don’t let it just go away because Zach saved the day, ya dig?

Prompt: None, other than asking for a continue

Word Count: 3092

Masterlist

Cheat, p1 Cheat p3

Walking into school the day after Zach went up on the stand was worse than you could’ve imagined. You knew the whole school had been keeping up so you knew people would know but you didn’t anticipate all their eyes being on you, trying to see how you were taking it. You were getting annoyed because you’d rather they just ask rather than just keep their eyes on you. You were at your locker when you heard shouting down the hall.

“What the fuck Dempsey?!” You heard someone yelling. Peeking around the door to your locker, you see Bryce Walker yelling at your ex-boyfriend. “You had two fine pieces of ass on your elbow and you couldn’t tell your own brother. Can’t blame you though, (Y/N) is probably the hotter piece of ass between the two.” Zach shoved the jock, his eyes finding yours. “What, it’s not my fault you didn’t compare them in a two on one session.” You feel your skin crawl and you slam your locker shut. “Oh hey (Y/N)!” Bryce called after you. “You wising up and dumping Dempsey doesn’t mean you can’t come to my parties. I got one tonight if you wanna drink away your sorrows.” You turn to glare at him, but you see Zach trying to catch up to you. You slip into your classroom right as the bell rings, leaving an annoyed Zach in the hall. He gives you a mournfully apologetic look before dashing off to his own class.

You expected to see him in the hall after the bell rang but you were privately pleased to not find him there. You weren’t ready to talk to him, hell you didn’t even want to look at him. Still, he cornered you at lunch where the two of you just sat across from each other in silence, not knowing what to say in the slightest. You wanted to scream at him. You wanted to call him worse than dogshit but when you looked at the broken man sitting across from you, you couldn’t find the words. Your instincts were telling you to pull him into your arms and console him like you had down so many times before. Images of Hannah holding him tight while you slept alone steeled your resolve and the lunch went by with no words being uttered between you. When the bell rang, you stood up and walked away, trying so hard to resist a glance over your shoulder. When your heart won out, you saw Zach with his hands in his hands, body heaving. He was crying. You wanted to rush to his side like you had down the day previous but you couldn’t. You had to let him go.

After school let out, you saw your friend Jessica waiting by your car. You sighed inwardly, knowing why she was here. She wanted to talk about Zach. Fuck. You slowly approach your car, and when she spots you, she breaks into a sympathetic smile, pulling you into a tight hug. “Hey (Y/N). How are you?” She asks when the two of you finally break apart.

“Completely and utterly destroyed.” You mumble under your breath. She doesn't seem to hear you, giving you a confused look. “I’m fine.” You insist, unlocking your door and climbing in. She raises her eyebrow, gesturing at the passenger door. Begrudgingly, you reach over and pop the lock allowing her to get it in.

“I’m not just going to be leaving you alone after the day I know you’ve had.” She says matter-of-factly. “Now, drive us to Monet’s where we will be meeting Alex and discussing how fucking terrible everything is.” You sigh, but a small smile tickles your cheeks.

When you arrive at Monet’s, you find Alex sitting at a small table with three hot beverages in front of him. He waves shortly at you as you sit down. “I wasn’t exactly sure what to get you,” he tells you, “but Jessica insisted something hot to bridle your rage and something sweet to match your personality.” You can’t help but giggle at Jessica as she shrugs her shoulders at you. “I hope you like this caramel concoction that Skye made.” You take a sip, letting the warm liquid warm your heart.

“Thanks guys.” You mumble under your breath. You feel your voice hitch as the two start bantering back and forth and you find yourself missing Zach. You were used to hanging out with Jess and Alex alone, but on the rare occasions Zach could get away from his sports, he’d come too. It felt like a glaring hole as you looked at the empty chair.

“Hey, so (Y/N) how are you?” Jessica says, ripping your attention away from the empty chair. You shrug at her, nothing really able to articulate anything useful.

“You didn’t know at all did you?” Alex asks before Jessica slaps at him. You shake your head slowly, a tear sliding down your nose before dripping off the end of your nose.

“I need to get home.” You mumble, grabbing your things and heading for the door. Jessica grabs your arm as you grab the door handle.

“Please don’t go. We’re worried about you.” Jessica insists. “Plus you have all this coffee left to drink.”

“I just don’t want to talk about him Jess.” You whisper, your voice raw. “Everything hurts. I want to see him and talk to him, but every time I look at him, I just see Hannah there, loving him when I couldn’t.” You wipe away the tears that have started flowing freely down your cheeks. “And I’m happy someone was there for him when I couldn’t be, I just can’t believe he’d lie to me for that long.” Your honesty burns your throat and you return to the table to take a sip of your coffee. Remember that it was hot at the last second, you swallow the lava quickly before grabbing a bottle of water from Skye.

“(Y/N), why don’t you just talk to him?” Jessica asks softly.

“I would but I don’t know what to say anymore Jess.” You slump down into your chair, head in your hands. “I loved him Jessica and he betrayed me. How am I supposed to just ‘get over’ it?” Your voice is a low whisper now, heartache echoing in every syllable. “How am I supposed to let him go?” You say, looking up at her. Jessica’s eyes are red now and she sits down next to you, resting her head against yours.

“(Y/N), you don’t have to let him go. You can talk this out, work through it. Both of you are completely devastated at the loss of each other.” You sniffle, moving away from her to wipe your eyes. She looks at you, deep empathy in her eyes.

“Zach.” Alex blurts out, stunned. Your eyes move up to look at the boy who stole your heart, his eyes red and his fists bloody. You instinctually grab a bottle of water and a napkin, moving to clean his hands. He doesn’t resist as you gingerly dab around the area.

“What happened?” You murmur emotionlessly.

“Nothing. Just Bryce wouldn’t stop running his mouth. So, I shut him up.” He said simply.

“What was he saying?” Alex asks, resulting in another slap from Jessica. “Girl, if you do not stop hitting me.” He whispers harshly.

“It was nothing, just was pissing me off.” Zach brushed off.

“What’d he say?” You ask evenly. Skye brought you over some gauze from a first aid kit to wrap his hands. He’s quiet, refusing to answer you. Once you were finished, you pushed his hands away. “What’d he say Zach?” You ask again, anger seeping into your tone.

“What you heard.” He finally conceded. “Except worse.” You think back to the conversation you’d overheard this morning and you felt sick to your stomach. “He seems to think rather highly of me now.” He tells you, disgusted at his own words.

“Well, you can ride that high for as long as you need to.” You spit back at him. You gather your things for a second time.

“Wait, (Y/N). Please.” Zach asks wearily. “Please, just talk to me.”

“There’s nothing to talk about.” You snap. You walk out of the cafe but the footsteps behind you tell you weren’t alone.

“(Y/N). I’m sorry. I’m so incredibly sorry.” Zach cries out behind you. An SUV pulls up beside you. Bryce Walker, looking a little worse for wear, eyes you salaciously from the driver’s seat.

“What’s up (Y/N)? Is this asshole bothering you?” He asks you slyly, glancing back at Zach. Zach seems to be frozen to the spot now, watching you intently. “You wanna come to a party?” He asks you, slime oozing in every word.

“Sure, why not?” You respond, glaring at Zach. Bryce urges you to hop in, which to Zach’s horror, you do. Bryce speeds off, leaving Zach behind, distraught.

You’d been to Bryce’s house before, usually under tight watch by Zach and usually at night. It seemed almost bizarre to see the mini mansion in the daytime. “You want something to drink?” Bryce asks you as you, Scott and Monty enter the smaller summer house.

“Why the fuck not?” You shrug tossing your backpack down next to the couch and following Bryce out to the small refrigerator. He tosses you a beer and grabs a couple for the guys. You sit down on the small couch, opposed to the one Monty and Scott were on. Your hand runs over the fabric slowly. This couch had been host to many kisses between you and Zach and more importantly, the first kiss you’d ever shared. Bryce sat down next to you, turning on the tv and breaking you away from your memories.

“So, (Y/N), how’re you holding up?” He asks brashly. You open your beer, taking a long drink before shrugging.

“I’m fine.” You hear yourself repeating. All day, that’s all you’ve told people. “I miss him.” You confess.

“Zach’s a good guy, he’s just an idiot. Why would he waste time with a trainwreck like Hannah Baker when he had a girl like you waiting for him.” Bryce said incredulously. You roll your shoulders, trying to displace the awkwardness you were feeling.

“I don’t know, maybe ask him that.” You shrug again.

“See I tried that.” Bryce said darkly. “He beat the shit out of me. Or well, tried to anyway. Some of my guys still know loyalty.” His eyes glance up to Scott and Monty. You were surprised to see Scott looking ashamed next to Monty’s prideful face.

“I guess he’s just a little sensitive about it.” You tell him, looking to Scott for some kind of out.

“I guess it was just a case of ‘too soon’ then.” Bryce shrugged pulling you under his arm. “Its okay, you can finally have real fun with us now that he’s out of the picture.” Your eyes go wide as you try to pull away but his arm won’t let you go.

“Hey Bryce, leave her alone.” Scott says, annoyed.

“Hey Scott, shut the fuck up.” Bryce retorts mockingly. Scott stalks back into the kitchen, leaving you alone with Money and Bryce. “Besides, you want to be here, don’t you sweetie? That’s why you came. You wanna get back at him.” Bryce says sickenly. You shake your head rapidly as he adjusts to push his body up against yours. He presses his lips to your, as you try to push him away from you. Scott returns, sliding his phone back in his pocket, to push Bryce off of you. “Get the fuck off me Reed.” He says pressing his palm to Scott’s chest and pushing him back. His eyes flick to Monty and he nods his head toward Scott. Monty grabs the kid, dragging him outside leaving you completely alone with Bryce.

“Please, no.” You mumble at him. You were cursing yourself for being so stupid to get in Bryce’s car. You knew what he did, you just wanted to piss off Zach. If you were honest, you thought Bryce would respect his girlfriend more than this.

“Come on (Y/N). Let’s really show Zach how much he’s hurt you.” He murmurs in your ear, sending chills down your spine. He pushes his mouth back on yours and while you struggle against him, you definitely can’t fight back. Tears stream down your face as his hands make their way under your shirt. You hear low shouting outside, before the summerhouse door slams open.

“What the fuck Walker?” Zach roars, lunging at him and ripping him off of you.

“She wanted it.” He smirks. “Why else would she be here?” Zach’s eyes finally find yours and you well and truly start to cry as you shake your head fervently. “Oh whatever you stupid slut.” Bryce shrugs.

Zach rears back and punches Bryce. Roaring again he climbs on top of Bryce, delivering fist after fist. You get up, trying to pull him off of Bryce, but he just throws you back. “You were supposed to be my friend you stupid piece of shit.” He cries between each blow. You try again to pull him off of Bryce and you’re successful this time. His eyes look you up and down, concern filling his gaze. You curl into his lap on the floor, crying into his neck. He clings to you desperately, not wanting to let you go ever again.

“I’m sorry.” You mumble, your voice muffled into his neck.

“It’s my fault. I hurt you. You never would never would’ve felt the need to come here if I was just honest with you.” He laments, shaking his head sadly.

“It was still incredibly stupid. I just wanted to see the look on your face when I climbed in the car. I just wanted you to feel an iota of what I was feeling.”

“You don’t think I’m hurting (Y/N)?” He asks, exasperated. “Every moment feels like I’m fucking dying and when I actually see you and I see what I’ve done to you? It drives the spear even further through me.” He tells you, his voice cracking. “I don’t deserve you. I never deserved you.” He puts his head back, trying not to look at you. “But I can’t live without you. One day has been hell. I can’t go the rest of my life.”

You’re silent as you help him up. You kick Bryce on the floor to assure he was still alive and Zach wouldn’t be charged with murder. You lead him outside, surprised to see Monty passed out with Scott leaning over him checking his vitals. He and Zach share a look, telling you Zach knew to come because of Scott.

“I wasn’t going to just leave you here.” He mumbles. “I just thought you were going to cool off and then go home. I really didn’t think that Bryce would be so direct. Only reason I didn’t rip you out of that car was because Scott was there.” You fish his keys out of his pocket, all but forcing him into the passenger side. If you were honest, you were thrilled as you slid behind that steering wheel and turned the engine over. You couldn’t help but steal a glance over at Zach as you lowered the top down. He watched you momentarily before tearing his gaze away to watch the road. You take it easy, even though your foot is begging you to floor it. You think of your car still parked outside of Monet’s and you stop back by, thrilled to see Jessica and Alex still there. You give Jess your keys, promising to explain later if she’d take your car home. You hop back in beside Zach and drive him back to his house. His mother’s car is parked outside, causing him to groan.

“Zachary Shan-Yung Dempsey,” his mother yells as she barrels out of the house, “how are things with (Y/N)? Have you tried groveling? That girl was the best thing-” She stops short as he climbs out of the passenger side and you, the driver’s. “Oh, I see. Dinner will be at seven you two.” She says evenly, though a small smile tickled her cheeks and she headed back inside.

Zach lets out a small laugh as he watches his mother head back inside. “She hasn’t let me hear the end of it.” He tells you. “To say she was pissed…” He trails off.

You slide back into the driver’s seat, him following your lead, both unsure of what to say. You want to tell him you love him, that you forgive you but your brain won’t let you. “I want to forgive you Zach.” You speak up finally. “I just… you lied to me. How can I trust you again?” You rest your arms on the steering wheel cradling your head against it.

“It would never happen again.” He says quietly. “Not that it makes it much better, but we hadn’t been together long when it happened. I just… baby I was out of my mind at the time.” He pleaded with you to understand.

“If this is going to work, I’m going to need you to promise to be completely honest with me from now on. No matter what.” You tell him seriously. “No more secrets. I know you were hurting. I just wish you could’ve told me. That’s what hurts the most.”

“No more secrets.” He agrees, taking your hand and kissing it gently.

“I missed you so much Zachy. It’s only been a day and it felt like I was missing a part of myself completely.” You tell him hollowly. He holds your hand in his, peppering kisses all over it. You both climb out of the car, where you begrudgingly return his keys to him. You slip up to his room, bed still unmade from when you slept it in last. Your eyes travel from the bed to his eyes and you press your lips to his, struggling to force the image of Bryce out of your head. He grabs your ass and lifts you up as you wrap your legs around him. Pressing you against the wall, he kisses you deeply, love and devotion coming through in every kiss.

“Zach,” you say, when you break apart to catch your breath, “I love you so much.” He eyes you hungrily as he nods.

“You are my world (Y/N).”

~Taglist~ @last-breath-199, @mysticsthinking, @vixenxvibes, @miapollard-x, @beansparker, @makaykay001, @bombshelljones

[spencerxreiders]

I Would Miss You Too Much (Bughead]

Betty Cooper is done being a pawn. So, she makes the final play. 

Warning: suicide attempt

Please leave feedback if you enjoy :)

Betty’s nude pink finger nails shone in the light streaming past her curtains. The street lamps had an orange glow to them,but the tears in her eyes blurred the spots of light together.

Betty cooper hated to admit it, but her life had gone to absolute dogshit.

Her sister, her parents, her best friend, and now, her boyfriend. How many things would she have to lose before this nightmare game would end?

The party she had left hours ago still felt fresh in her mind. The hoard of teens filled with sweet reckless abandon, coerced into taking that drug, had looked so free. Betty had been so jealous of their excitement, she almost truly felt angry at Veronica’s luck.

But as soon as she had to confront her best friend, to the black hood’s psychotic command, there was only sadness. No jealousy, no rage, not even fear. Just a cold, consuming sadness.

She felt cruel, and the sight of herself was enough to cause bile to raise in the back of her throat. That guilt was choking her, like a rope being pulled around her neck. She felt like the biggest sinner of them all.

If letting Veronica go hurt this badly, she could only imagine what it would feel like to push jughead away. Jughead, the person she loved most. Even if there had been a few riffs recently, she still remained head over heels for him, and she knew she always would.

That’s why she decided to stop before it was too late. Maybe it was selfish, but Betty Cooper was done coming second in her own life. She wanted this, so she would take it.

It was two in the morning when she began, starting by locking her bedroom door. She dug through her drawer until she found one of her razors.

She began to dismantle the flimsy green plastic until the silver blade landed in her palm. The rectangular piece of metal looked right laying there, surrounded by the multitude of crescent shaped nail marks she dug into herself constantly.

Her friends had tried to get her to stop, but they understood the fact that it was her coping mechanism. Eventually, they let up, except for Jughead who would take her hand in his whenever he caught her doing it. Her breath hitched at the thought of Jughead, the beanie wearing boy she had grown to love so much.

She didn’t want to die and leave him alone, but she couldn’t do what the black hood was asking of her. That was where she drew the line.

She cared far too much for him to watch his face crumble, to walk away. So, she made her way to the bathroom. She closed the door with slightly chipped wood, feeling the white grain beneath her fingertips one last time.

She slowly slipped her pink pullover sweater off of her body, revealing her equally as pastel yellow tank top. She neatly folded the knitted fabric and set it on the counter. Her reflection stared back at her, face pale and tear covered. She ran a shaky hand through her blonde hair, her eyes falling back to the porcelain countertop.

The glinting blade stared back at her, taunting. Having never self harmed before, Betty wondered what it felt like, if it offered as much release as frequent cutters preached. She wondered if she should test it out before going all the way.

She picked it up, instinctually trying her hardest to avoid nicking her fingers. She almost laughed at her own nativity.

Her hand hovered above her other wrist, ready to make a slice. She realized, however, that if she wasted time she would chicken out. Her determination was strong, but Betty Cooper was soft. She wasn’t ready to give in.

So, she pressed a kiss to two of her fingers, which she pressed against the screen of her phone, displaying her favorite picture of Archie, V, B, and Juggie. The core four, soon to be the core three. She laughed humorlessly, feeling droplets inside her waterline. She wiped them away and plopped herself down on the tile flooring.

On one side of her sat her phone, on the other her blade. ‘I’m done stalling,’ she told herself before grabbing the metal and make a deep incision across her vein. She gasped in shock as the stinging sensation spread. Her gaze hardened as she did it again, and again, and again still until not an inch of her left forearm wasn’t smeared in crimson liquid.

She felt numb, didn’t feel a single cut, until she took a minute to breathe. Then she moaned out in agony as it seared. Choked sobs squeezed out of her throat and she looked at the area surrounding her. Blood everywhere, a mess her mother would have to clean.

Guilt flooded her chest in an instant, and though it didn’t quite register, so did regret. She quickly stood up to try and bandage herself, but fell straight back down. The force of her back hitting the linoleum knocked the breath out of her lungs, and for a few brief moments, Betty felt death.

She couldn’t stop herself from picking up her cell and dialing the oh so familiar number, the only person she wanted to see, the last voice she wanted to hear.

“Hey, Betty? It’s 3.. what’s up?”

“Juggie?” she choked out.

“Betts, what’s wrong?” Jughead asked worriedly, suddenly alert.

“Can you come over? Through my window. My parents can’t know.”

“Yeah, yeah of course.”

Betty could hear him throwing on clothes and getting his keys. “It’s bad, Juggie, just want to warn you.”

“Hold on for me, love, hold on.”

“I will,” Betty said before hanging up, hoping to keep her word.

The next few minutes went by in a blur. She felt too dizzy to do anything but stare at the ceiling, hoping Jughead would arrive soon.

As if on cue, he swiftly entered the room. His expression morphed from concern to complete and utter terror. He dropped to his knees and pulled his girlfriend into his arms, shaking just as badly as she was.

He immediately brought her wrist to his face to inspect, feeling tears slip down his face.

He felt sick as he looked at the deep open wounds in her once flawless skin. He would ask her questions later, he decided. For now he would do his best to fix her up.

His heart was positively shattered as he hustled about the bathroom, trying to get everything he needed. He gently picked Betty up off the floor and set her on top of the toilet lid before finding hydrogen peroxide and bandages.

He took a wet rag and, while still crying his eyes out, cleaned the dried blood from her forearm. He then took a cotton ball and cleaned her cuts with the peroxide, trying to ignore the sharp intakes of breath as she felt the stinging sensation.

Finally, he wrapped a bandage tightly around her arm, until the spool ran out. Both teens sighed in unison.

“Juggie, I’m sorry,” she sobbed. “I couldn’t do it, I couldn’t.”

Confusion clouded Jughead’s features. “Couldn’t do what?

Shakily, she stood up, holding on to his forearms for support. Standing on her tip toes, she whispered into his ear the instructions the dreaded Black Hood had given her.

Jughead immediately pulled her into a soft hug, allowing her to cry into his neck. "Im so sorry, Betty, I’m so sorry,” he repeated like a mantra. “I love you, Jughead, I can’t live in a world where we can’t be together,” she continued with her broken voice. She lost her balance once again, and jughead was quick to pull her to his chest, looping his arms under hers.

“You don’t have to worry, Betts. Just please, don’t ever, ever, do something like this again,” he pleaded, eyes glassy and filled with tears. He felt her nod against him. “I promise, Juggie.”

He sighed before planting his lips to her forehead. “I love you,” he said softly, brushing her tears away with the gentle pad of his thumb. “I love you too,” she said, her lips pulling up into a smile.

He bent over to hook his arm underneath her knees before standing up, cradling the fragile girl in his arms. He carefully carried her into her room before tucking her into bed. “Let me clean up in the bathroom,” he said before kissing her lips so lightly she almost didn’t feel it.

He went to work, ridding the room of all evidence. The small room smelled strongly of cleaning products, but Betty was known as a stress cleaner, so no one would find it too unusual.

He took the blade and flushed it down the toilet, as assurance for himself. The thought of her trying again caused his stomach to drop.

When he came back into her bedroom, she was laying awake on her bed, staring up at her ceiling which was littered with glow in the dark star cut outs. Her eyes flickered to him, before looking back up in shame. Jughead recognized that, and immediately sat on the side of her bed.

He looked at her bare arm, leading up to a thick bandage wrap at her wrist. He leaned down to kiss the gauze, smiling as a blush rose to her cheeks. “You’re so beautiful, Betty,” he murmured as he kissed his way up her arm, to her collar, to her neck, and landing securely on her lips.

She kissed him back, trying to push gratitude from her lips. She owed him her life, literally. Anything he asked of her, she would deliver, even the promise she made in the bathroom.

He  got up to leave the room out the window, turning around only as her shaky hand gripped his weakly. “I don’t want to be alone tonight,” she whimpered.

An understanding smile crossed his face as he returned to the bed. His jacket landed on the floor beside his boots, and his hat lay on her desk.

He decided to lay atop her comforter, wanting her to feel as safe as possible. His arm lay across her stomach as her back, separated by a few layers of fabric, presses against his chest. “Get some rest, Miss Cooper. You need it,” he said, stretching himself out before relaxing once more.

Betty smiled. “Thank you for tonight.” His thumb gently ran across her faint freckles.  "Get some rest, love.“

Tomorrow he would talk to her, figure out their solutions. But tonight he would let his hands run through that blonde ponytail, rest his hand over her heart, beating against his palm.

He winced at the thought that he may have never felt it again. But he did, he reminds himself, and that’s what’s important. That, and Betty Cooper.