#but she did seem upset or something so yeah

[luveline]

jadey, could I request some hurt/comfort with hangman (or Steve or Eddie if you’d prefer) where he asks reader out and they’re like “are you sure this isn’t a joke? or a prank? or a bad decision you’ll regret tomorrow?”? and he’s really sweet and kind about it? cause ngl with how shitty my dating life’s been so far, any man that approaches me with romantic intent is gonna have to do so with the same gentleness and tact as someone who rescues and rehabilitates neglected dogs.

“Look out,” Liv says, nodding toward the front of the arcade and then quickly turning away, “Harrington’s back.”

Why she says it like a chore you’ve no idea. You hurry to clip your mirror compact closed and shove it under the desk into a bucket of Chinese finger traps and pencil toppers. You look ridiculous in your polo with your Palace nametag taking up a solid two inches of your chest, but Steve Harrington used to wear a little sailor’s uniform with tiny teeny shorts, so perhaps he doesn’t hold it against you. You really hope he doesn’t. 

Steve looks less smiley than usual —he isn’t surrounded by his usual troupe of friends, the younger kids Nancy Wheeler’s brother and the gaggle of dorks that keeps getting bigger. He pretends they piss him off, and sometimes they really do, but when Max needs to go stand outside for a minute he always goes with her, and when Dustin flinches at a seriously loud noise, he clasps the boy by the shoulder and tells him it’s alright. He clearly doesn’t mind that he’s inherited a brood of younger siblings.

But today he’s frowning, nearly, something steeled about him as he stops at the desk. You smile carefully and he smiles back, but it quickly fades as he opens his mouth, you assume to talk. For a second, nothing comes out. 

“Hi,” he says finally. 

“Hi, Steve.” 

“How are you?” 

“I’m good, yeah. Thank you.” You raise your eyebrows. “How are you?” 

“Nervous.” He scratches the back of his neck, peeking quickly down at his hand and then wiping it roughly into his thigh. “Shit. Listen, I think you’re so pretty, and I practised this part in my head but it’s not– I got another look at you as I was coming in and I forgot what I was gonna say.” 

You don’t mean to ask, but, “You think I’m pretty?” 

“It’s dire,” he says seriously, hair flopping into his eyes and half-heartedly batted away. “You’re beautiful.” 

He says it so simply, it doesn’t compute. 

“Oh. Well, thank you,” you say softly. 

“Shit.” Steve shoots a look at the door. You follow his gaze, wondering what the hell he’s looking at. Did he bring somebody with him? You’d thought he was alone, but maybe he’s not. 

“Steve, are you okay?” 

“That’s why. This is why I’m– I’m fucking up monumentally. I didn’t think I’d be nervous. Like, sure, I felt like I was gonna throw up all morning but I’m usually better at the asking part.” Steve straightens up. A light beige polo is neatly buttoned at his neck, and his hair looks nicer than usual, super shiny under the overhead. When he turns to you, the red light coming off of Dig-Dug paints him with a pink hue, emphasising the dash of blush filling the tops of his ears. “You wouldn’t want to hang out some time, would you? Or– shit. I don’t want to hang out. I do, but– Do you want to go on a date?” 

“With you?” 

He winces. “With me, yeah.” 

You’re quiet for so long it makes you both uncomfortable. Slowly, Steve’s face starts to lose the squirmy nervousness he’d brought in with him, and a familiar softness fills his eyes, his brows pinching at their starts, lips pursed. 

“You look upset,” he says. 

In the tens of times you’ve seen Steve Harrington come in here, and the fewer times he’s come up to the desk to talk, you can’t confess to thinking he’d ever ask you that. You’d imagined it once, how he’d lean against the display of teddy bears and smile at you just so, like you already knew what he wanted. 

“No,” you say, watching his expression for some sign that this is a trick. It doesn’t seem like it is. You can’t say you think he’d be that cruel, but you can’t not ask, either. “I’m wondering if this is a joke.” 

“A joke? No.” Steve frowns. “Did someone do that before?” 

“Just doesn’t make any sense.”

Steve is a nice guy. He’s asked you so many questions about yourself you can’t remember what he knows and what he doesn’t, but you aren’t eager to tell him why you think what you’re thinking now. 

You shy away from him, letting your eyes fall to the pencil erasers. 

“Hey,” he says softly, reaching across the desk without touching you, “hey, hey, it’s okay. I’m not kidding around, I’ve wanted to ask you out for ages, but I– guess I thought this would go better if I waited. You don’t have to say yes.” 

“You really want to go on a date with me?”

“Yeah, I do.” 

“You swear?” 

“I swear. I mean, duh. Who wouldn’t want to go on a date with you? I sort of wake up thinking about you.”

Your eyes fly to his face. “What?” 

“Not in like, a loser way. In a cool way.” 

You still don’t really believe Steve wants to take you on a date until he’s knocking on your door, 7PM sharp, handing you a bouquet of twelve red roses and a hopeful smile. “Told you,” he says, grinning as you step down onto the path with him, something you recognise as nervousness in his smile, but elation, too, “Jesus, I knew you’d look pretty, but this is just something else. Who wouldn’t want to take you out?” 

You hit him very gently with the flowers. “Stop.” 

He grins. “No. Don’t think I will, babe.” 

[plumbottompie]

"What day is it?" you snap as she comes in. Your affini looks at you.

"Petal, you seem upset. I think you need some class-Es." She extends a vine, with a large flower on it. You barely even register the suggestion before you're pressing your face into the flower, and breathing deeply, inhaling the scent and holding it.

After three deep breaths, you pull away. "Thank you, Miss," you say, which is the proper response to her giving you a dose of xenodrugs. "Uh, what day is it, Miss?"

"I don't really see why you would need to know, cutie, after all, you spend every day more or less the same way, don't you?" She pats you on the head.

"Yeah but... uh..." you trail off, distracted by the hand on you. "Did you just give me class-As just now? I feel really sensitive."

"Sometimes class-Es can make people feel more sensitive. It's easier to focus on enjoying sensation when you're relaxed, after all."

You lean into her hand. "Focus... on enjoying..." you mumble, as you process her words. It still feels too strong to just be psychological, but she would never tell an outright lie. "Uh, Miss? I... how long have I been here?"

"I don't know, sweetie, you were standing here when I got back, but you could have been waiting here for hours. Do you need me to check the hab's tapes?"

"Yeah... I mean, no, that's not what I meant. Has it been more than a month since my wardship started?"

"You were only assigned for me for a one month wardship, and you're still here, aren't you petal?" You blink, feeling stupid. She's right, of course. Why are you even thinking about this?

"B-but... my boobs...?" What are you talking about? Oh, you remember! "I read they can't grow this big in only a month."

"I see, that's very interesting. Let me examine you more closely." Your clothes fall away, removed by vines that immediately start caressing you. Your knees go weak in a matter of seconds, and you happily collapse, letting her hold you up. "Your boobs are getting nice and big, aren't they?"

"Yes Mistress." You only call her that during sex, which this really wasn't supposed to be, she was just looking at you, but you're so turned on the word slips out on it's own. You expect her to be upset at you for turning this into something sexual, but a vine snakes into your ass, and at the same time, she leans down and kisses you, her tongue vine sliding down her throat, before she pulls away.

"Good girl," she says, and you realize that instead of being upset, she rewarded you. You smile, happy to know that you've pleased your Mistress. "Do you think your tits are too big?" she asks, squeezing them.

"No, MIstress. I want them even bigger. I just..." you just what? It's so hard to think, so hard not to just focus on enjoying your Mistress's vines. "I just need to know if I'm an independent."

A vine teases down your breasts and to your rock hard clit. It's a little over two inches now, even though it was bigger than average before your wardship. "An independent terran is considered an affini's equal. Tell me, petal, do you feel like my equal?"

"No, Mistress." Her vines pull away from your tits, clit, and ass, and she looks at you, observing you closely.

"Do you want me to treat you like my equal? I can, of course."

You shake your head so hard it makes you dizzy. "No! No, Mistress, I don't want that!"

"Good girl. You're going to be ready very soon, aren't you? Now, I think you need some class-Zs, and then to forget this whole day, don't you?"

You open your mouth, but the only response that comes out is "May I cum, Mistress?"

"No, not today, you've been a little naughty." The flower covers your face again, and you breathe deeply. You feel as your body stops trembling, your mind starts to slow, your eyelids droop, even your clit goes soft. "And next time you figure it out, kneel while you wait for me."

You dimly wonder what you figured out, before you go to sleep. When you wake, you'll discover that your tablet will no longer show you the timeline of class-Gs, but it's not like you're unsatisfied with them. After all, look at how much you've changed in only a month.

You were assigned to an affini for a one month wardship, and she helped you realize you were a trans woman and put you class-Gs. Now, looking in the mirror, you realize that from your research, the changes you've experienced should have taken at least three months.

You check your tablet to see what the date is, but it's not showing the date or time anywhere. Even if it was, you can't remember what day your wardship started. If you're right, your wardship ended a while ago, and she just... kept you? Didn't tell you that you were allowed to leave?

You consider trying the door out of the hab, and seeing if you can just walk out, but she'd be worried if she came back and you were gone, and besides, you're pretty mad. You'll wait for her to come home, and confront her about it. Maybe give her a chance to come clean, if it's true, or explain it to you, if you're wrong.

[illbegottenfaith]

sweet?!

you may not be the one dating theodore nott but you'd be damned if you let anyone think of him as sweet (theo nott x reader)

Part 1 | Part 2

a/n - I meant to make a separate post a while back but college has been kicking my ass so 😭 but 300 followers!!! insaneee ily all sooo much mwah I feel so so grateful and also a little weirded out cuz wdym 300 people... (I am SO bad at these can you tell um anyways) also this was inspired by a new girl episode!! I kind of have plans for a part 3 but im still workshopping it so idk yet but !! we'll see :)

tropes/warnings - fluff, slight angst, mattheo not understanding physics (but its not like he had a formal education in the subject so is it rlly his fault??), tw descriptions of injury

word count - 1.5k

taglist - @hzdhrtss @justaproudperson @kandralice @clairesblouse @deenaaa

"You're still coming this afternoon, right?"

You were having lunch in the Great Hall with your best friend Ivy, hours before one of the most entertaining sporting events of the year - an underground Muggle sports day. Every year, a group of students from each house would compete in some arbitrarily chosen muggle sport, with varying levels of success. Casualties and knee-slapping memories (for those standing in the sidelines, such as yourself) were a guarantee.

You nodded. "Are you kidding? Watching the boys wack each other black and blue at some poor attempt at a muggle sport? I wouldn't miss it for the world. I hope it's hockey. It's got sticks, you know." You got an odd, dreamlike look in your eye. "Merlin, I hope it's hockey."

Ivy dug into her Shepherd's pie. "Good. It sounds interesting enough. Plus, Theo's new girlfriend will be there."

You nearly upset your pumpkin juice.

"Girlfriend? When did that happen?"

Something in your voice must have given your true feelings away from the way Ivy squinted at you suspiciously. You pulled a face. It seemed convincing enough.

"It's all very new," Ivy said a tad bit sternly. "They met at Davies' party a while back and, well, they fancied each other, so -"

You snorted.

"What, is he blackmailing her?"

Ivy frowned at you. "Don't snark," she rebuked. "It isn't nice. She's a regular daisy, you'll see."

Yeah. Sure. You piled some more mashed potatoes onto your plate.

"Has anyone checked her for brain damage? Look - I'm not even snarking, I'm genuinely concerned for her wellbeing - "

“I don’t understand how this is supposed to work,” Mattheo was saying as the two of you walked over the makeshift Muggle basketball court someone had fashioned out of one of the disused storerooms in the dungeons. He and the rest of the Slytherin boys were wearing matching fluorescent green mesh vests to distinguish themselves from the Gryffindor team, engaged in some deadly serious discussion. A part of you wondered if you should mention that muggle sports weren’t generally meant to be as fatal as Quidditch.

As usual, Theo looked bored to death by the conversation. "We've been over this a hundred times. You dribble the ball -"

"Yeah, right," Mattheo vehemently said. "Like this thing's coming up if I throw it down. What do you take me for, an idiot?"

Theo pinched the bridge of his nose, oddly reminscent of the way you did when you felt a migraine coming on.

"Remember the tennis ball, Matty? The fuzzy, green one?"

"That's different. That thing was tiny, and bouncy. This thing's heavy. It's the size of my head. No, a quaffle. No, a -"

"Then what do you think is going to happen?" Theo interrupted irritably.

“Stick to the ground, obviously. Watch - "

As seasoned as the lot of you had become in anticipating Mattheo's often highly dangerous impulses, this one came entirely out of left field. Theo yanked him back by his vest, but it was too late. He slammed the basketball down and it ricocheted back up almost immediately, punching him right in the nose. Mattheo swore loudly, and the last thing you saw before you looked away was an awful amount of blood.

Even after Enzo took him to the Hospital Wing, once Theo had sufficiently plugged his nose with obscene amounts of tissue, things did not improve for the team. About halfway through the game, an unfortunate scuffle between some of the players left Draco curled up in a ball, grimacing as he clutched his knee. Theo winced, running over to where Draco was doing a rather poor job of concealing his pain.

"Oh, that's so Teddy," Margaret gushed to you, "always stopping by to help anyone in need. Isn't he such a gentleman?"

You nodded stiffly, your slight smile frozen on your face, willing Ivy to hurry back with the snacks and drinks she had left for. After she had introduced the two of you to each other, you decided that Margaret was a perfectly pleasant person, even if she wasn't the type of friend you typically sought out. If anything, you were more confused than ever about what she was doing, hanging around a guy as bitter as Theo.

However, one thing that truly bothered you was the odd remark here or there that revealed her grossly inaccurate perceptions of him, such as this one. You thought back to just last week when you had tripped in front of him on one of the Shifting Staircases, your books tumbling down into the recesses of the stairwell. He had stopped by you, alright. Stopped to point and laugh, that is.

"Honestly, I couldn't have asked for a better boyfriend. He's really sweet," Margaret finished.

Your eyes nearly fell out of your head.

"Sweet?"

Just in time, Ivy hurried over, gently pulling you away with some half-hearted excuse.

"O-kay, I think that's enough bonding for today."

"Sweet," you echoed weakly as you limply allowed yourself to be carted away, the appalled expression still on your face. "She thinks he's sweet." Euch.

But Ivy wasn't paying attention to you anymore. "How bad is it?" she asked, as the two of you neared the cluster around Draco.

"Bad," Ivan replied, gingerly pressing Draco's knee. "He definitely needs to see Madam Pomfrey. No way he'll be able to play any more today, and we're out of reserves, so we're a man short." He turned, motioning to the Gryffindor players scattered across the field that the game was over.

"Damn. I'll take him to the hospital wing, I've been meaning to check on Mattheo too. Meg, you'll help me, won't you?"

With a little difficulty, the three of them limped along once they had pulled Draco's arms over their shoulders. One of the Gryffindor players approached the crowd, picking up on what was happening after a glance at Draco.

"What about the game?"

Theo rolled his eyes. "We'll rematch, you nitwit."

You went back to your seat, trying to figure out what to do with Ivy's refreshments. Once it was clear that the game was over, the last of the players and the scanty audience filtered out of the room.

"What gives?"

You pulled your gaze back to the lone Slytherin player left, in a blood-spotted mesh vest. Your least favourite player. You could slap that on a T-shirt - not that you wanted to cheer for him. Merlin, no. Cheer against him, maybe. You wouldn't wish it on your worst enemy - which, coincidentally, happened to be him. You momentarily abandoned your musings as you returned to the real world, noticing the expectant look on his face.

"Hm?"

Theo spread him arms out and shrugged in a helpless sort of manner.

"I don't get it, L/N. What do you want from me?

You stared at him blankly. "...what are you talking about?"

He scoffed half-heartedly, like he was too upset to put any real heat behind it.

"I have this amazing new girlfriend that everyone loves." He tossed the ball away with a defeated air. "Everyone, except you."

The words stung. You stuck your chin out defiantly.

"Why do you care so much about what I think?"

"Why can't you just be happy for me?

"I just want you to be honest."

Theo's eyebrows shot up. "Honesty? That's what this is about?"

That's what it had always been about, you wanted to say. You sniffed nonchalantly, rearranging the pleats of your skirt.

"I don't think it's fair to Margaret that you're selling her some lie just to -"

"You think I'm lying to her?"

He kept his voice cool, almost offensively neutral. You rolled your eyes. "I know you are."

Theo was quiet after that, as if mulling over what you had said.

"So," he pressed after a moment, slowly walking towards you, forcing you to crane your head up to maintain eye contact, "you think I should be more transparent with her. That is...show her my unpleasant side."

You allowed yourself a brief smile. "Exactly."

"Be more rude to her."

"Yeah."

"Mock her."

You furrowed your brow slightly.

"Erm, sure."

"Insult her."

"I - what?"

"In short," Theo continued, as if you hadn't spoken, "you want me to treat her like I do you."

He tilted his head.

"Why is that? Do you feel...betrothed to me? Or, perhaps, you consider me your boyfriend? Since we're being honest, and all."

In that moment, you decided you never hated Theo more than you did then, with his domineering stances, condescending sneers, and caustically sarcastic remarks. You swallowed hard, your throat almost painfully tight as you felt the traitorous prick of tears behind your eyes.

"Don't be ridiculous," you muttered. But he wasn't being entirely ridiculous, was he? It was what made the whole thing all that more upsetting.

If he noticed you were teary-eyed, he didn't comment on it, as if it were disappointing. As if you were yet another disappointment in his book of unfairly high expectations. He straightened with a barely convincing air of nonchalance. If anything, he looked just as upset as you felt.

"Whatever, L/N. See you around."

[slimyenemy]

like it was such a mess fr because she did that ghosting me thing after saying very vaguely who even knows what about me being evil who even knows when despite me being there for months at this point trying to be nice to her mostly not even failing due to the usual ever present horrors in case something bad did indeed happen before when i wasn't even there because how tf could i be and i reacted like ok if i just act really pathetic for a while now at least she won't be coming back to glue trap me again all feeling like she *really* doesn't care about anything why even would she then NOT according to plan felt noticed by fish and felt talked to and responded because sure why not she seems really cool with all the usual emotions that always look like stupid love bombing which it wasn't because love bombing is a manipulation tactic and i was just feeling things and saying everything i think as usual but i did tell her pretty much right away that if she doesn't want to talk i don't want to do anything but literally normal one sided follow her on twitter to which she responded with regular as hell rudeness and ignoring my boundaries and always wanting something from me and being rude about that too put me in a hostile environment weird situation with some weird people immediately so i just kept going like i love you sm my beautiful wife but can you please just STOP and exploding about it because math glue traps are freaking humiliating and scary af and she didn't listen and i was just like okayyyyyy and at some point thought i think that if this is how this is going i should probably say something to the other person because it might look kinda messed up to her and who knows if it might actually hurt her and i did love her A LOT and cared about her so i basically DID just explain wtf happened and apologized for being poly and still said that enough is enough and if i'm not talked to i don't want to do anything FR (and was actually kinda cute about it i think) because it was all insanely brainbreaking and took ten million amount of time from me already and then they unleashed the scam torture hell and fish already started trying to force something weird on me too who tf even knows why i never felt freaked out about anything more and it was all already weird and hostile and confusing in the worst way possible and freaking awful and me saying really freaking loud and clear no to fish things was just ignored very intensely every time and it just kept going and going and getting worse and worse until it turned into a freaking everything torture too and the rest is everything i talked about here recently as in just straight up nightmare and i have no freaking idea whatsoever about what the fuck is even wrong with them both anymore and can't even describe how the thought of being in some sort of relationship with either of them makes me feel and don't even get me started on the rest of the cult it's like genuinely the most atrocious gathering of seemingly okay at first glance people i've seen in my LIFE and now after spending a few extra months quite literally having to listen to nevermind even the usual weird ass hostility dehumanization and infantilization and random af headcanons about me being scary right wing dracula who will oh how sad inevitably end up living on the streets now but some completely freaking full of shit bullshit about how good of an idea corrective rape would be in my sad unsocialized snowflake (sorry for throwing tf up rn) case i think they should actually very lowkey very metaphorically be crushed into powder mixed with basil and thrown into tomato sauce for some pizza in other words get absolutely freaking cooked that's it no words

[alchemiclee]

been looking in tags for a few days now to see if anyone else found the whole high cloud quintet and related story to be a bit.....poorly written, nonsensical, contradictory, full of plot holes and loose ends, etc. apparently i'm not the only one. (and i'm not even talking about shipping stuff, because any time I saw someone mad about bad writing, someone always replies to be homophobic and laugh about failed ships. weirdos.) it could have been so good but was thrown into the garbage for the most part (IF you noticed all the plot holes and contradiction. if not, then it's a fine enough story tbh. I expect most people to see it on surface level and not read all the little hidden lore bits and try to piece it together like my autistic brain did. which is ok! enjoy it if you liked it and ignore me 😆)

[zepskies]

Oooh here we go, diving right back into Angst City with some manic Cowboy Sheriff. 😅

A computer mouse flung against the wall and only missed Jenny’s head by an inch as the blonde peeked inside his office. The rest of the station had selected her to talk to the big boss, his outbursts even being heard from miles away. “You okay?” Jenny checked carefully. “I’m tryna find that stupid camera!”

*snorts* Oh, he's not handling this well, is he? Can't really blame him, considering a serial killer has the love of his life captured somewhere. 🥲

It wasn’t just about what he had done in there but also about he’d said. No wonder Diane had gotten so easily under his skin. She probably had heard every insecurity he had ever uttered. To you. And to imaginary Randy. How was he supposed to sleep in a place where he felt exploited, exposed, and unsafe?

Oh Goddd, it really is awful. It's like nowhere in his life is private or safe anymore for him. How could you ever feel comfortable in your own office again?

And if the roles were reversed, Beau wouldn’t either. He’d probably be even more annoyingly persistent than Randy.

loll I could definitely see that. 😅

“This isn’t a game, Randy! We need to find Y/N before it’s too late,” Beau argued furiously. They didn’t have time for petty competitions.

THANK YOU. At least one of them is taking this situation more seriously than their rivalry. But I honestly understand and sympathize with Randy too -- he's grasping at straws even though he knows he's losing his (former) wife emotionally already, even if he does manage to find the key to saving her before Beau does.

“‘Sides, why would I give up my favorite part? I’ve waited a while for this one. Killing her? While you two idiots watch helplessly and throw feces at each other like monkeys in a zoo? Gotta say, it’s better than killing twenty-four people combined. Ever since I met Deputy Popcorn, I’ve been actually craving a snack.” Upon Beau’s facial twitch, Diane leaned closer and whispered with a smirk,

Ok, just shoot this bitch out back and bury her under the sheriff's office. Honestly. 😤 (But the monkeys line did make me snort lol)

“About four years ago, she wrote a rather lengthy email to her sister Sophia in Seattle. She seemed very upset. Said there was a little something you wouldn’t give her. Ring any bells?”

Dammmmn how the hell is she getting this information?? But now I'm looking at Randy sideways even harder. 😒

I was on pins and needles throughout all of the reader's almost escape -- that bear trap actually made me physically grimace/wince!! Omg poor thing. But I loved how remembering Beau's advice helped her get out of the trap -- or at least the bear trap, if not Hal's "Benders"-themed game of hunt and chase. 😰

Pulling out their weapons, the two shared a look without speaking a word before entering the house, a feeling of familiarity rising in Beau’s chest. They were still partners, somewhere deep down.

Such a great moment between Beau and Randy here, and such great storytelling, especially as they actually start to work together to solve the mystery of what happened to the reader next. 👏🏽💜 I think one of the things I love most about your writing is you have such a great sense of story beats, creating tension and when to relieve it, and how to build character arcs that provide amazing twists, while also making exact sense when it all comes together, piece by piece.

Beau knew the question was mostly rhetorical, but true to himself, he still answered, “It’s actually pretty easy. Just press down on the springs, and the thing opens right up.” A smile formed on his lips as a memory popped back into his mind. “I told Y/N that once when we took a camping trip back in Houston. She probably didn’t remember it. I mean, honestly, I doubt she was even listening. I was kinda ramblin’, you know?”

Oh these two were made for her -- she was actually listening to his ramblings. 🥰💜

“Yeah, well, it’s true,” he said, his gaze cast downward as if he were confessing his sins to a priest. “She wanted kids, and I told her I didn’t. Neither of us was backing down. The night the cartel kidnapped me, we were supposed to have dinner and talk about it when I got home. Part of me already knew where it was headed.”

Remember earlier when I was talking about your amazing twists that make things click into place even more perfectly? Well THIS IS IT. 👏🏽👏🏽👏🏽 It makes things with her and Beau make even more sense now that we know she was likely leaving Randy anyway, no matter how much she loved him.

“Good thing you’re not her father,” Beau snapped. He could only muster so much patience. “You don’t really have a say in who she’s datin’.”

YES, Beau!! I get it, Randy's been dealt a shitty hand, but Beau's POV in this situation and conversation is so valid. 👌🏽 (Especially since she was likely leaving Randy anyway.)

Regardless, it seems like they had the honest man-to-man talk they needed to have about everything. But Wayne!!! That cliffhanger is...

Polaris – Chapter 12

Series Summary: When Beau Arlen moved to Montana, he left behind a past he wasn’t proud of. But when a series of murders requires the FBI’s help, Sheriff Arlen‘s ghosts come back to haunt him one by one. With a wrong turn waiting at every crossroads, it’s hard to make the right choices and find his way back home – back to you.

Pairing: Beau Arlen x FBI Agent!Reader

Warnings: 18+, a heavy dose of angst, kidnapping, violence, injuries, serial killers, death, an awful cliffhanger

Word Count: 6.8k

A/N: Happy New Year, everyone! 🥳 We jump straight into 2025 with an angsty banger 👀

Series Masterlist || Main Masterlist || Tag List

Chapter 12: Through

On one of the sunniest mornings Helena had seen in recent days, the peaceful quiet of the early risers in the Sheriff’s Department was disturbed by one restless sheriff.

Beau was taking his office apart – bit by bit, nail by nail, panel by panel, brick by brick.

The search for you had gone on all night and yielded zero results. You were nowhere to be found. For all Beau knew, you could be dead by now and buried in the vast woods of Montana.

A computer mouse flung against the wall and only missed Jenny’s head by an inch as the blonde peeked inside his office. The rest of the station had selected her to talk to the big boss, his outbursts even being heard from miles away.

“You okay?” Jenny checked carefully.

“I’m tryna find that stupid camera!”

“Thought you already found that hours ago,” Jenny noted with a raised brow.

“Can’t be too careful…” the sheriff murmured, his focus landing on the pile of pens on his desk. The silver one – had that always been there? He picked it up. “Does this look normal to you?”

Jenny only offered a shrug.

“Never mind,” Beau muttered and reduced the pen down to its individual parts. Nothing. Just a plain, old pen.

“Did you get some sleep?”

“What d’you think?”

At five in the morning, Beau had promised Jenny he’d snooze for half an hour on the couch in his office. He did lie down, stared at the suspended ceiling tiles for about a minute, and then remembered the damn camera.

It wasn’t just about what he had done in there but also about he’d said. No wonder Diane had gotten so easily under his skin. She probably had heard every insecurity he had ever uttered. To you. And to imaginary Randy.

How was he supposed to sleep in a place where he felt exploited, exposed, and unsafe?

“Well, uh, I just wanted to tell you that Randy went into Interrogation Room 2 with Diane…”

“WHAT?!”

“Yeah…” Jenny exhaled a deep sigh and leaned against the door frame. “He said you’d deputized him and authorized it, but I had a feeling that wasn’t true.”

Beau ran a hand across his face, rubbing his beard.

Rule #3: She’s my wife. I get to decide how we proceed.

Rule #4: You’re not the boss of me.

“Well, I did deputize him,” Beau admitted. He had given his former partner a long leash, not expecting he’d bolt through the backyard.

“Beau…” Jenny clearly didn’t approve.

“He left me no choice, alright?!”

Well, no choice his guilt could deal with.

The sheriff then left his destroyed office and thundered into Interrogation Room 2 down the hall. Randy wouldn’t get to do this alone. Beau knew there was an ulterior motive – if only Randy saved you, he could also miraculously save his marriage. Randy was a persistent motherfucker. He wouldn’t give up.

And if the roles were reversed, Beau wouldn’t either. He’d probably be even more annoyingly persistent than Randy.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” Beau charged in with steam coming out of his ears. For a moment, his anger was so focused on his friend, he didn’t even notice the rising smile on Diane’s lips.

“Good morning, Sheriff Arlen.” Even if Diane’s voice sounded melodious, to Beau it was still chalk on board. “Remodeling the office, are we?”

“You mind?” Randy prompted stand-offishly, glancing up at the sheriff. “Kinda in the middle of something here.”

“Outside. Now,” was all Beau said.

Defiantly and miffed by the authoritative tone, Randy followed him to the hall.

“Play nice, boys!” Diane’s voice echoed through before the door fell into its lock.

“What d’you think you’re doing? You can’t just talk to our prime suspect without my presence!” Beau roared.

Randy rolled his eyes back. “Didn’t know I needed a babysitter…”

“This isn’t a game, Randy! We need to find Y/N before it’s too late,” Beau argued furiously. They didn’t have time for petty competitions.

“Yeah, which is why I’m talking to the only lead we have! That bitch knows where she is,” Randy countered with an equal amount of fury.

“She’s not gonna tell you!”

Randy only shrugged – cocky in nature and completely unlike him. And Beau then realized something that had changed: His friend wouldn’t back down anymore and bend. Those days were over, and it was probably Beau’s own fault.

“We’ll see,” Randy said stubbornly, his hand wandering back to the door handle. “You comin’?”

Beau inhaled and exhaled a deep breath before nodding – and back into the lion’s den they went.

Diane welcomed them with a sneer. “All made up?”

“Tell us where Turner took her,” Randy demanded with a stern expression and firm voice.

If Randy wanted to play bad cop, the role of good cop fell to Beau by default. And although they had never ever played it that way before, Beau figured Randy carried more anger than even him right now. He might as well let him make good use of it.

“Can’t.” Diane twitched her shoulders. “Hal doesn’t tell me.”

“Oh, and we’re just supposed to believe that?” Beau lifted a brow in mock. “C’mon, Diane…”

“It’s true,” she said, smiling. “Call it an insurance policy in case one of you Neanderthals decides to go rogue on me – looking at you specifically, Sheriff Arlen. If you leave your own partner to die in a filthy warehouse, I don’t wanna know what you do to your enemies.” She then looked at Randy, whispering behind her palm, “You know, I think he did it on purpose.”

Beau clicked his tongue and snorted humorlessly. “Alright, Diane, you’ve had your fun. You’ve wreaked havoc… You’ve won, okay? Fair and square. Just give up your partner, tell us where Y/N is, and end this once and for all. Might even get a better deal if you do. Think about it. Murdering an FBI agent doesn’t look good in front of a judge and jury. We have iron-clad proof you killed at least five people in Texas. Capital murder, death penalty… See where I’m going with this?”

“Oh, I’ve thought about it, Sheriff. And I’ve told you: I don’t know where she is now,” Diane reiterated with the same infuriating smile. Her gray eyes then wandered to a wall clock behind the men. “At least not yet.”

Randy and Beau both followed her gaze and stared at that same clock. Their eyes widened.

“Then when?” Randy prompted.

“Don’t worry. You’ll see her soon.” Diane smirked. “If she makes it out alive, she can tell you in person she’s choosing the rugged sheriff here over you, Detective Nichols.”

Randy’s jaw tightened, his fists clenching and unclenching under the metal table.

“I gave her a fighting chance.”

“Oh, you mean like the others?” Beau had known from the start that it would be useless talking to her.

“They all could’ve gotten out,” said Diane as if she blamed the victims for not being smarter and more durable. “‘Sides, why would I give up my favorite part? I’ve waited a while for this one. Killing her? While you two idiots watch helplessly and throw feces at each other like monkeys in a zoo? Gotta say, it’s better than killing twenty-four people combined. Ever since I met Deputy Popcorn, I’ve been actually craving a snack.” Upon Beau’s facial twitch, Diane leaned closer and whispered with a smirk, “Yeah, I know about the cute little nicknames for your deputies too, Sheriff. I wonder how many bugs you’ve found yet in your office. Sure it can’t be all of them. Maybe I’ve bugged the whole station. Who’s to say? Have you checked your trailer yet? The lovely agent’s motel room? No?”

Beau couldn’t pinpoint the exact feeling that clutched his heart and twisted it like a boa constrictor. Pain, fear, anger, sadness – a deadly cocktail for anyone. Was this throbbing sting in his chest what a heart attack felt like? Only recently, he’d read an article in the paper about a guy his age who just dropped dead. Was this it for him?

Would it mean he'd get to see you again, though?

“Enough of that!”

Randy’s voice rang in his ears, but Beau couldn’t refocus. He needed fresh air to breathe, his lungs dried up and clinging to every molecule like he’d been deprived of oxygen for days. The small room felt suddenly suffocating as the monster across from him sneered joyfully.

“Look, I don’t know if you’re saying all that horseshit ‘cause you wanna hurt him or me,” Randy said, his voice laced with a darkness Beau had never seen before.

“Little bit of both,” Diane teased with a shrug.

“Yeah, well, I don’t care either way,” Randy huffed, the deep creases in his brow casting threatening shadows on his face. “Do your worst to me or him. Hell, burn us at the stake if it makes you feel any better, sweetheart, but all I wanna know is where that bunker is. Where is she? Your beef’s clearly with us. Men, right? You know she doesn’t deserve this. Just let her go.”

Diane seemed unamused by the suggestion, leaning back in the metal chair. “You’re right. She doesn’t deserve this. I actually like her. She reminds me of me. But you two did this to her. It’s out of my hands at this point. You don’t deserve her, sheriff,” she said and looked at Beau before her cold eyes shifted to Randy. “Neither do you, detective. I know a lot of things – and not just about the sheriff here. I know what you did to her, too.”

Randy forced a tight smile. “You’re bluffing. I didn’t do anything.”

“Am I?” Diane quirked a brow and then sent him an innocent smile. “About four years ago, she wrote a rather lengthy email to her sister Sophia in Seattle. She seemed very upset. Said there was a little something you wouldn’t give her. Ring any bells?”

With a thick swallow and a glare swimming in his hazel eyes, Randy nodded. “We’re done here.”

Diane let out a long, suspenseful sigh, not bothering to engage further. Her icy heart wouldn’t melt. Her eyes flickered around the bleak, depressing room. “I miss windows. Haven’t seen the outside for days.”

“Yeah, and you ain’t gonna,” Beau huffed. He had quietly listened, his heart rate slowing down as his head started spinning with questions. You had never told him anything. He had never asked. It had been an unspoken rule to not talk about your marriage. Beau always figured knowing too much would only make it worse.

“Too bad. I always liked the autumn sunsets. When it gets dark sooner…” Diane then stretched out her neck. “Anyways, nice chatting with you boys, but it’s time for my beauty nap now. Which one of you two cowboys is gonna accompany me back to my cell, hm?”

The men shared a look and then wordlessly rose, leaving the room. In the safety of the hallway, Beau ran a hand over his face and took his first deep breath.

Air. Lungs. Brain. Without toxicity, he could finally think straight again.

“Well, this was pointless and a waste of our time. Happy now?” Beau huffed with his newfound lung capacity.

But Randy’s brow was furrowed. He was thinking. “Actually, yeah… Didn’t you hear what she said?”

“Yeah, bunch of narcissistic bullshit. She’s not gonna tell us where Y/N is,” Beau muttered bitterly. If possible, he wished to never converse with that psychotic witch again. There was only so much he could handle before snapping her neck.

“She said that she doesn’t know where Y/N is now,” Randy pointed out. “Maybe she wasn’t lying. Maybe Y/N’s not in the bunker yet. Turner might keep her somewhere else and wait till he can move her.”

“At sundown,” Beau mused, Diane’s words haunting his mind. “He’ll move her when it’s dark.”

“Which means we still have a couple hours to find her,” Randy finished the thought.

“Popcorn!” Beau yelled down the hallway. The sheriff found himself in better spirits. He hadn’t used a silly name for his most loyal deputy in days, although it ached a tiny bit to say it now. “Any properties in Newton’s name?”

“Yes, sir, several,” Mo replied.

“I need a list of all in the area. Get a team together and search ‘em. One by one,” Beau ordered. “Warehouses, cabins… Take it all apart. I don’t care.”

“And also see if any properties are in Hal Turner’s name and add them to the list,” Randy suggested.

Poppernak shot Beau a look, and only when the latter gave his agreement, did the deputy nod. “Yes, Sheriff Arlen.”

The obnoxiously loud sound of birds woke you from a deep slumber. Groggily, you pried your eyes open and found the first few beams of sunlight warming your face. For a peaceful moment of dazed bliss, you had no clue where you were or how you got here.

There was a thumping, searing pain in your skull, hammering away at your sanity like the ticks of a clock. Your neck and shoulders hurt from tension till you realized you were bound to an old wooden chair, a harsh and creaking surface underneath you. Your behind felt both sore and numb.

Glancing around the room, you noticed you were in the living quarters of a small cabin. A fireplace sat to your right. Above it, a cuckoo clock that showed shortly past noon, and you realized that must’ve produced the bird noise that woke you. The stinging sunlight reached your eyes and filled you with hope.

Hal Turner hadn’t locked you into a bunker yet.

“You’re awake. Good.” Turner entered the room with a bottle of water and a sandwich, throwing the items unceremoniously onto your lap. “You need to eat. We’ll leave soon.”

“Where are we going?”

“Where they all went,” he said and came up behind you. Turner wasn’t a man of tall stature. Small, middle-aged, nervous. Non-threatening.

Diane’s little ant.

He cut your ties, and you could tell his hands were shaking. They didn’t treat the others like that. Entertaining a victim had never been his job before.

Sedated, dumped, marooned.

That had been the pattern, and you hoped this little off-course adventure would pay off with your freedom. Your gaze drifted down to a lonely brown belt buckle.

Unarmed.

With free hands and Turner still vulnerably behind you, your arms shot up and wrapped around his neck. Fortunately, he wasn’t as heavy as Beau in training when you jolted him forward, jumped up, and rammed his face straight into your knee.

Unconscious for the moment, Turner tumbled to the ground, and you sprinted through the front door. You hoped it would give you enough time to find an exit.

But all you found was a vast sea of trees – towering pines that reached heavenward with no neighboring houses or roads in sight.

There was a shed to your left. Tools. You needed weapons.

And, most of all, you needed more goddamn time to think your way out of this one.

It wasn’t long till you heard the front door of the cabin slam open, heavy and angry footsteps aimlessly searching before they slowly circled closer to the shed.

Fortunately, your little hide-out had proved itself useful – and fully stocked. Turner had arranged his tools in a neatly organized manner. Nothing seemed to be out of place, screwdrivers hanging on the wall from small to big, pliers, drills, hacksaws… Your weapons of choice, however, fell on a hammer and the heaviest, biggest wrench.

Lurking behind the small barn door, you lay in wait till the old door creaked open and Hal Turner walked through. He only blinked at you wide-eyed before your first hit with the wrench landed across his right cheek. It was hard enough for blood to spew out of his mouth, and as he tumbled forward, you delivered your second blow – the hammer, this time, slamming against the back of his head.

Dropping the tools, you decided to take your chances and make a run through the woods for it. You still had a few fleeting hours till dark. If you just kept going, maybe you’d make it to a road or a town somewhere before you froze to death.

What a great outlook…

However, you didn’t even get farther than a few yards from the house before a sharp pain seared from your ankle throughout your entire body. Falling harshly and bracing yourself on the cold, wet leaves, you screamed out and looked down at the culprit – a bear trap.

Well, points for Hufflepuff!

Apparently, you had underestimated Turner. Ahead of you, you also spied some tripwire. Great. This place was a giant death trap – and you had already hated the woods before all of this.

Getting back onto your feet was not only hindered by the giant claws in your flesh but also the iron chain attached to the trap that tethered you to the ground. So, with your freezing hands, you dug out the metal stake that served as your anchor.

Then, the fucking bear trap – you knew this one would hurt like a son of a bitch. Carefully, you inspected the oozing wound, the razor sharp edges deeply clutching your skin at your lower calf and ankle. For a moment, you even swore you could feel the tips of their pointed teeth drilling into your bone. You tried to pry them apart with your hands but gave up on that idea rather quickly once the jaws cut your fingers.

Glancing at the shed, you saw the door was still ajar. It was quiet in there. Either Hal Turner was gone, solely unconscious, or currently bleeding to death. The shed was your Schrödinger’s cat. As long as you didn’t know which one it was, you still had time.

Taking several deep breaths, you closed your eyes and remembered the trip you took with Beau when you were back in Houston. The two of you drove camping in Piney Woods. For a few days, you were gone and unknown to everyone around you. You could just be you and him. No one had to hide anything. No one had to feel guilty. In those short days, you realized you wanted to spend the rest of your life with him.

“Did you know bear traps are actually pretty easy to get out of?” Beau babbles a random fact in his usual manner when neither of you has said anything in a minute. He glances at you, a happy smile on his face as he intertwines his fingers with yours during a stroll through the green and lush forest.

“Huh.”

“Yeah, all you gotta do is not panic, get up on your feet, and press your weight down on the springs at the bottom. Just pops open and you can pull your leg out,” he explains with a popping sound, turning the little lesson into a show-and-tell.

“Don’t panic…” you mumbled to yourself and sat up. “Get up…” With a strained groan and your palms supportively on the ground, you heaved yourself to your feet. You winced as you put pressure on your injured leg and, therefore, tried to shift your weight to your good one. The main problem was the next step: “Press down.”

Mentally, you braced yourself before you slowly started to put pressure on the leg again. The jaws moved and wiggled in your flesh, but the pain was too much too bear. You bit down on your tongue as tears strangled your eyes.

Alright, next try.

If slow was too painful, then maybe the bandaid method was the way to go. Quick and painless, as they say. You inhaled and exhaled through your nose as you raised your foot a few inches above ground, making sure the springs would hit the uneven surface properly. Then, you kicked down.

The trap sprung open, you pulled your foot out, and released a primal scream that echoed through the quiet woods, surely disturbing whatever lived there.

And then, suddenly, Hal Turner stood in front of you with a shovel.

Diane’s listed properties came up empty. There was still no sign of you. Turner, on the other hand, had only booked a motel room in his name but hadn’t been seen there in weeks. So, Beau figured he had to be staying somewhere if he wasn’t sleeping in his room.

At four o’clock, the sheriff was close to a breakdown when all leads petered out and the daylight was almost gone. But then Cassie and Denise stormed the station, both out of breath, and brought forth a document that showed a property north of Helena in the name of a Diane Turner. It was a remote cabin in the middle of the woods, which also happened to be close to the location where the ambulance had picked up Randy.

Ding, ding, ding!

Beau gathered the whole cavalry and raced there as fast as he could. By the time he was ten minutes out, the sky had grown dark, the woods pitch-black around him. Switching on the Jeep’s headlights only added to the uneasiness in his stomach. His passenger was quiet next to him, but Beau could tell how worried Randy was by the way his left leg anxiously drummed against the floor mat.

Both of them thought it was too late to save you.

An access road, all dirt, led up behind the cabin, only making it a short hike. Turner’s vehicle had been parked at the fork where it reached pavement. They seemed to be on the right track. After all, if Turner was here, then hopefully so were you.

Beau and Randy were the first to arrive, the cabin inside dark without a single light on, not even a candle burning in the smudged windows. Carefully, the men stepped on the porch, the property around them quiet and undisturbed, but the front door was an inch ajar. Pulling out their weapons, the two shared a look without speaking a word before entering the house, a feeling of familiarity rising in Beau’s chest.

They were still partners, somewhere deep down.

The floorboards creaked under Beau’s boots as he treaded down the hallway. The cabin was small, only consisting of one bedroom, a living area, a kitchen and bath. While the men checked each room, Beau already knew you weren’t here anymore – if you’d ever been here to begin with. Maybe Diane had sent them on a wild goose-chase, another sick game created by the mind of psychopath, while you had been locked in a bunker all along, waiting for him to find you.

How much air did you still have left? Would he get to you in time?

“Beau!”

His partner’s voice drew him from the bedroom to the living space, his mind still rattling with the unspoken fear of losing you. His green eyes then focused on the beam of Randy’s flashlight as it shone on a wooden chair in the middle of the room, a set of cut plastic ties on the floor next to it. There was also an uneaten sandwich and an unopened bottle of water scattered on the ground.

And then, there were the trails, the little drops, and the sheer pools of blood everywhere that made his gut churn. Was it all yours?

“We need to get forensics here,” Beau said with a thick swallow, already pulling out his phone to call Jenny.

“That’s a lot of blood,” Randy said with a lump in his throat, his eyes transfixed on the little red pond by the tips of his feet. And although it was dark, Beau could see the color drain from his partner’s face.

“I know.” Beau bobbed his head quietly, gently clasping his friend’s shoulder as he held his phone to his ear.

The sheriff then informed Jenny of their findings, telling her to hurry any lab results along. The sooner they knew whose blood it was, the better. As he hung up, he noticed Randy following a trail of blood to the door, leading further outside. He shone his flashlight through the dense foliage before it landed on a little working shed to the right.

As Randy creaked the door of the shed open, with Beau behind him, both thought there was a high probability they’d stumble upon a body in there – if not two.

Instead, the shed was disappointingly empty.

Beau whistled lowly as the light hit the neatly arranged wall of tools. “Well, that’s some freak level organization.”

But Randy’s brow furrowed as his light landed on the ground behind the door. “There’s a hammer and wrench on the ground.” He knelt down to inspect it closer. “Got blood on it. Lot of it.”

Beau chuckled lightly and ran a palm over his face to keep the stinging tears of hope inside, which only confused Randy.

“What’s so funny? Y/N might be dead,” Randy said sourly.

“That’s not Turner’s doing,” Beau argued and gestured at the tools on the ground, his heart flooding with a tiny bit of relief. “Look at the wall. Why would he kill her with tools? It’s way too bloody. Guy like this can’t handle the mess. He had a perfectly fine gun. Would’ve been way cleaner if he wanted to.”

“So, you think this was Y/N?” Randy thought for a moment before nodding. “The ties inside were cut. The food and water on the floor… Maybe he cut her loose and she took advantage of it? I mean, it does sound like her.”

“Yeah…” Beau’s eyes then musingly drifted back to the wall. “Is there a screwdriver on the ground somewhere? There’s one missing here.”

“Nope, nothing on the ground,” Randy replied once his flashlight search was complete. “You think she took it with her?”

“Let’s hope so…”

“But if Y/N managed to overpower Turner, why isn’t she here? And where’s Turner? And if it happened out here, why is there so much blood inside?”

Beau licked his chapped lips, his brow returning to their initially creased position. “Maybe she didn’t take him out for good.”

“You thinkin’ she knocked him out and escaped?”

“Yeah, and then Turner woke up, went back into the house before taking off after her through those woods,” Beau shared his theory. It would explain the vast amounts of blood inside.

“So, your theory is she’s lost and being hunted?” Randy cocked a brow.

Beau only offered him a shrug. “Best possible scenario.”

“Great.” Randy scoffed. “What’s the worst possible scenario then?”

Beau’s Adam’s apple bobbed. “I think we both know.” Licking his lips, he patted Randy’s shoulder. “But let’s not think about the worst right now. I’ll get a team going to search these woods. We’ll find her. You’re not losing her again, alright?”

Randy could only nod and hope, but a little tug on his heart told him something different as he glanced at his former friend.

“It’s been three hours,” Randy huffed frustratedly as they passed the same street sign to Helena down the mountain once more, driving up and down the roads around the cabin in an endless loop, hoping and praying a miracle would happen. “Don’t you think we would’ve found her by now? If she’s hurt and inside those woods, we should be in there looking for her.”

Beau passed another sigh between his lips. There had been three hours of that, too. Patience was a not only an eight-letter word but a bitch as well.

“Neither of us is any help there. We don’t know those woods. You don’t even a phone, Randy,” Beau said with a bit more firmness in his voice, causing his partner’s frown to deepen. Saved by the bell, Beau’s phone chimed in his pocket with Jenny’s angelic name popping up on the screen. He pulled over on the side of the road before picking up.

“What you got? Uh-huh… You sure? What did they say about the cabin? Okay… Both of ‘em? How far? Which direction? Alright… We’re close. Driving back up there now.”

Randy held his breath till Beau hung up, trying to guess the content of the phone call by the various facial expressions of the sheriff. Then, he asked, “Good news or bad news?”

“Hard to say,” Beau replied, his eyes fixed on his hands gripping the steering wheel. He swallowed the lump in his throat, gave himself an encouraging nod, and started the engine, trying to sink every bad theory that surfaced in his mind. “Forensics came back. Our theory was partially correct. The blood inside the cabin was mostly Turner’s.”

Randy raised a brow, his heartbeat thrumming in his ears. “Mostly?”

“Evidence points to her not escaping. Turner might have gotten to her before she could even leave the property. They found a bear trap with her blood on it,” Beau explained slowly, his grip on the wheel tightening. “Dogs picked up a trail, leading into the woods. Forensics confirmed both of their blood on that trail.”

“Doesn’t mean anything. He could’ve followed her. She still could’ve escaped,” Randy replied and knew full well it was only sugarcoating the truth swimming in the lower pits of his belly.

“Could’ve…” Beau nodded and swallowed heavily. “But then again, if she did manage to escape, how did her blood end up inside the cabin?”

Defeated, Randy licked his lips, expelling a humorless chuckle. “Yeah, guess my hopes are little too high. I mean, how the hell would you get out of a bear trap?”

Beau knew the question was mostly rhetorical, but true to himself, he still answered, “It’s actually pretty easy. Just press down on the springs, and the thing opens right up.” A smile formed on his lips as a memory popped back into his mind. “I told Y/N that once when we took a camping trip back in Houston. She probably didn’t remember it. I mean, honestly, I doubt she was even listening. I was kinda ramblin’, you know?”

“Uh-huh. I remember. I’ve spent a lot of time with you…” Randy smacked his lips, fingers tapping his thigh. “You guys went on a trip together?”

Beau’s mouth opened on reflex, but he stopped himself from replying, shooting a scrutinizing look at his partner. “Yeah, uh, just the one, really. Shoulda been more…”

Regrets seeped to the surface. If Beau had known he had only a finite amount of time with you, he would’ve enjoyed and appreciated every last second of it. He should’ve spent less time in his head. He should’ve taken you out on more dates. He should’ve been the best he could be. Instead, he wasted so much time and couldn’t even remember why in retrospect.

“What makes you say that?” Randy’s question rang both with curiosity and pain. His brown eyes stared stubbornly ahead and focused on the dark road.

Beau blew a long sigh. “Well, I wasn’t always the best–,” he hesitated a moment before saying the word, “–boyfriend, I guess.”

If Randy was upset by the term, he didn’t let it show. Maybe he was sticking to Rule #2. He quirked a brow and glanced at Beau in the driver’s seat. “So, on top of stealing my wife, you’re telling me you didn’t even treat her right?”

“Guess so,” Beau admitted quietly, poking the inside of his cheeks with his tongue and ignoring the subtle jab. “And I didn’t treat her badly, by the way. Just could’ve tried harder. Felt guilty because she was your-, well, you know… And the divorce got kinda messy, too. I just wanted to stay clear of complications.”

Exasperated, Randy scoffed, shaking his head. “This is not really making me want to give you my blessing…”

Beau huffed a chuckle. “Didn’t know that was an option.”

“Well, it’s not. You don’t deserve her.” Randy clicked his tongue, pensively bobbing his head. He then finally admitted, the words sounding almost sour, “Neither do I. You might be as big of an idiot as me.”

Beau’s eyes widened in surprise, his focus briefly swaying from the road. “What d’you mean? You guys were perfect together. Is this about what Newton said?”

Randy’s lips curved into a bitter smile. “Y/N never told you?”

“Told me what?”

Randy chewed on his lower lip before pushing out the words that had plagued him for three years. “She wanted to leave me.”

Beau shook his head. “Nah, I don’t buy it. She loved you. You should’ve seen her after she thought you’d died.”

Randy inhaled sharply, his head spinning with regret and heart filling with hope. For the past years, he had wondered if he’d ever get another chance to fix things with you.

“Yeah, well, it’s true,” he said, his gaze cast downward as if he were confessing his sins to a priest. “She wanted kids, and I told her I didn’t. Neither of us was backing down. The night the cartel kidnapped me, we were supposed to have dinner and talk about it when I got home. Part of me already knew where it was headed.”

Beau listened and nodded. He remembered the set dinner table, the lovingly prepared food, the candles – it didn’t seem like something one would do if they planned on leaving.

“No, I don’t think she would’ve left you,” Beau noted, although his heart stung when he said it out loud.

“I overheard her asking Carla for a divorce lawyer. Pretty sure she was,” Randy retorted. “Seems silly now. She was already out of my league. I should’ve just given her what she wanted. I don’t even know why I didn’t. I should’ve just shut up and been grateful.”

“That’s what I would’ve told you to do,” Beau muttered, his brain trying to keep track and process everything. Why had you never told him any of this? And more importantly: “Why have you never told me?”

“Guess I was embarrassed.” Randy shrugged. “And I already knew what you would’ve said.”

Secretly amused, Beau cocked a brow. “What? That you’re an idiot?”

“Exactly.”

“And Carla knew?”

“I guess.” Randy gave another shrug of his shoulders. “I mean, they talked all the time. Well, mostly it was Carla complaining about you, but still…”

Beau’s brow furrowed into deep lines. He should’ve been more surprised than he was. The only thing that really baffled him was the fact you had still agreed to date him after hearing all of that. What else didn’t he know?

“I thought they met once a week for book club?”

Randy shot him a pitying look. “Dude, there was no book club. Only three bottles of wine.” He then exhaled a long sigh, stretching back into his seat. “Maybe it’s good she didn’t pick anyone. She deserves someone who can give her what she wants.”

“What makes you think I can’t?” A little offended, Beau raised his brow. “You know, when she came back a few weeks ago, I swore I’d make things right. I wouldn’t let her go this time.”

But Beau broke that promise. He pushed you away to stay clear of complications. His heart twinged.

“And you think she wanted to live in a trailer in the woods of Montana?”

“Doesn’t matter. I would’ve given her anything she wanted. No questions asked,” Beau stated simply. “I was happy when I was with her. Didn’t matter where we were or what we were doing.”

“So, what? You planned on marrying her? Kids?”

Beau twitched his shoulders, his eyes not drifting from the street. If he glanced at Randy only for a beat, he couldn’t ignore his friend’s reactions any longer and still remain honest. “We never talked about it, but... If that’s what she wants, then yeah. Don’t even have to think about it. You really were an idiot, you know?”

“I know that. Thank you,” Randy huffed sarcastically and rolled his eyes. “Still not getting my blessing, though.”

“Good thing you’re not her father,” Beau snapped. He could only muster so much patience. “You don’t really have a say in who she’s datin’.”

“You’re one to talk.” Randy scoffed mockingly. “I met your friend Denise at the station. We had a long chat. She almost talks as much as you. Sounded like you tried to have a say in who Carla should marry. Little hypocritical, don’t you think?”

“That’s different,” Beau retorted defensively. “We have a kid together. Whoever Carla’s seeing is also gonna be in Emily’s life.”

“So, you don’t even care a little about Carla’s well-being? ‘Cause Denise said you killed her new husband,” Randy countered cleverly.

“Of course I care,” Beau admitted frustratedly. What did Randy want to hear? That he was right about everything? Well, except one thing: “And I didn’t kill Avery, by the way. Might have been slightly responsible for his death, sure, but I didn’t kill the idiot.”

“Seems to be a pattern for you. Maybe Diane was right,” Randy muttered wryly.

Beau licked his lips and sighed. “Listen, I know that devil woman is good at getting into someone’s head, but you gotta believe me, man. I did not leave you to die. If I had known–”

“Whoa, I know,” Randy interrupted him with an amused chuckle and two placating hands. “I was just joking. I knew you didn’t hand me over to the cartel on purpose in some evil ploy to get with my wife. That would be insane.”

Beau gave a nod, accepting his answer with relief. “Well, good.”

“Look, I’m not delusional, contrary to what everyone’s thinking. I know things happened while I was away,” Randy admitted. “I figured she had moved on. For three years, I actually hoped she did. I wanted her to be happy. Just didn’t think it be you, I guess. Probably shouldn’t have been surprised, though. I kinda knew you always liked her. Just didn’t think any more of it, you know?”

“And there wasn’t more, alright? I promise,” Beau assured him, his cheeks reddening from embarrassment. He never thought Randy would’ve suspected anything – not that there really ever was anything. But had his tiny crush really been that obvious? “One of those things, you know? Just ‘cause I find Michelle Rodriguez attractive doesn’t mean I seriously expect to date her. I didn’t know it was more than that till I spent some time with her.”

“Good to know,” was all Randy said, crossing his arms with an uncomfortable clear of his throat. “Definitely surprised Y/N likes you, though. She always had a pretty low opinion of you. Said you were doing shitty police work and I should be more careful. Guess she was right..." Beau shot him a darkened look but refrained from taking the bait. Randy pursed his lips. "Look, I know I’m a pain in your ass right now. You’d probably love to get rid of me.”

“Well, hey, that’s not–”

“What, true?” Knowingly, Randy lifted a brow. “I would if I were you.”

Beau only nodded, not admitting out loud the thought had certainly crossed his mind. “So, what are you thinking now?”

“Still want her to be happy,” Randy said quietly.

All of a sudden, Beau then slammed on the brakes, both men jolting forward into their seatbelts. A loud thud echoed through the car as something heavy hit the Jeep’s hood. For a moment, the sheriff thought he’d run into a deer before blinking his eyes at the bloodied and muddied image of Hal Turner.

“What the hell?!”

Turner was in rough shape, pantingly and deliriously stumbling around the car and onto the road, shielding his eyes from the blinding headlights with his palm. Blood dripped from various places from his head and body before Beau’s eyes narrowed on the metal tool stuck inside his neck.

“Guess we found our missing screwdriver,” Randy noted as the two men jumped out of the car, guns drawn.

“Where is she, Turner?” Beau prompted sternly, his finger itching to pull the trigger for everything he’d done to you. But knowing where you were was more important than a vendetta. Turner could only speak while he was alive.

And the man seemed to know it, too. Before the sheriff could call for back-up and an ambulance, Turner sneered and raised a hand, gripping the screwdriver tightly.

“No, don’t!”

Beau’s plea came too late. Hal Turner pulled the makeshift weapon out of his throat and collapsed to the ground, bleeding out within seconds.

Randy’s fingers landed on the man’s pulse point. He glanced up at his partner with a shake of his head. “He’s gone.”

Throwing his gun angrily into the rustling brushes, Beau gripped his temples and screamed into the void of the dark woods. Desperation clawed on his mind and heart. The fear of losing you for good took him prisoner. With labored breaths, he squeezed the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger and rubbed his tired eyes. Turner had been his last lead. He knew more wouldn’t be coming.

What now?

A sanctimonious beep of his phone drew his attention. A small part of him prayed it was Jenny, informing him you’d emerged a few miles up the road – bloody like Turner, but otherwise fine. Alive.

But his green eyes only found an email and darkened at the sender’s name. “Diane just sent me a link.”

Randy, caught in his own spiral, suddenly glanced up. “To what?”

“Livestream.”

Chapter 13: Sure And Certain

Another cliffhanger, and it looks like Diane's still having the last laugh 🙈

What did you think of this part? Were you surprised by Randy's revelation? He might've changed his mind on a few things 😉

See ya next week for the freaking finale 🤍

Join the TAG LIST here! 🌌 Wanna sponsor my caffeine addiction? ☕️

Everything Jensen: @alwaystiredandconfused @xlynnbbyx @lyarr24 @deans-spinster-witch @blackcherrywhiskey

@deansbbyx @foxyjwls007 @ladysparkles78 @roseblue373 @zepskies

@agalliasi @yvonneeeee @hobby27 @iamsapphine @globetrotter28

@mxltifxnd0m @lacilou @feyresqueen @suckitands33 @onlyangel-444

@syrma-sensei @perpetualabsurdity @deans-baby-momma @yoobusgoobus @jessjad

@hunter-or-the-hunted @k-slla @just-levyy @mrsjenniferwinchester @illicithallways

@muhahaha303 @ultimatecin73 @nancymcl @leigh70 @brightlilith

@nesnejwritings @samslvrgirl @xx-spooky-little-vampire-xx @fromcaintodean @barewithme02

@thebiggerbear @star-yawnznn

Everything Beau Arlen: @snowayumi

Polaris Series: @corruptedcruiser

[coffinsister]

Quick Coffincest thoughts: You cannot convince me Ashley doesn't have a bit of a praise kink. I bet she does the whole "Praise me now!" Thing while they are having sex too (btw, Andrew loves praising her. It works.)

[gibbearish]

also is the thing with the box ever. explained?

[chucklechampion]

ah heem heem......

[5sospenguinqueen]

Taste | Max Verstappen x Singer! Reader

Summary: She’ll just have to taste you when he’s kissing her. When Max and Kelly break up, the pair of you start something sweet. But, it only lasts a short while when your conflicting schedules drive him back into her arms. 

Warnings: Kelly Piquet slander. 

Requested: No, I’m just obsessed with making up fantasies whilst I drive home from work with my music on

Faceclaim: Sabrina Carpenter (yes, I know she’s used a lot but I stole her song and her occupation so why not steal her face) 

F1 Masterlist

━━━━ ༻𖥸༺ ━━━━

f1wags just posted

liked by user1, redbullracing and others

f1wags max verstappen and kelly piquet both confirmed they have seperated, posting a short statement on their instagram stories. the news comes after months of speculation after explosive arguments were caught on camera

3,306 comments

user1 omg did anyone see that red bull admin liked this and then unliked it

user2 thank god! i’ve been waiting for this day for ever

user3 can we see him date someone his own age now that didn’t go after him when he was a teen? 

user4 finally! turns out manifesting works 

user5 he always looked so upset after they argued. hopefully he finds someone good for him

user6 hear me out, but how hot would he look with yn ln

→ user7 like they’d ever cross paths. he’s an athlete and she’s a pop star 

→ user6 yes but my point is that they would look hot together 

→ user8 he did have one of her songs playing in the background of a stream once?

user9 i love how she’s really laying it on thick in hers and he’s just like “yeah, it’s over” 

→ user10 we love an unbothered king

━━━━ ༻𖥸༺ ━━━━

mclaren just posted

liked by maxverstappen1, landonorris and others

mclaren we have a special guest in the garage this weekend. thank you @/yn_ln for joining us

6,098 comments

yn_ln thank you so much for having me! i had an amazing weekend but i don’t think i’ll be in a rush to do hot laps again

→ landonorris don’t be like that. i know you had fun! 

→ yn_ln idk who trusted you with a licence but they should be fired

→ landonorris idk why they call you short and sweet :( 

user1 she looks soooo good wtf  liked by maxverstappen1

oscarpiastri it was really fun having you in the garage. thank you for making lando seem tall. now he’ll be in a good mood for the rest of the weekend

→ yn_ln f1 girlies, can you tell me if he’s dating the curly haired one?

→ oscarpiastri well played. i apologise for bringing your height into this

→ user2 yes, yes they are, yn

user3 chat, is this real? my fave singer in my fave team’s garage! two worlds colliding 

charles_leclerc omg please stop by ferrari. my girlfriend, alex, absolutely loves you

→ yn_ln come pick me up! (‘cause i don’t know my way around the paddock) and i’d love to meet her

user4 omg somebody tell max. i hope she gets lost and stumbles into red bull

→ user5 my delusions might come true if that happens

→ user6 he saw her when charles was walking her over to ferrari

→ user4 and?! 

→ user6 nothing. he turned around and went back into the garage

→ user7 yeah after he went bright red! 

f1wags just posted

liked by user8, shortnsweet and others

f1wags only two months since his split from model, kelly piquet, max verstappen has been linked to singer, yn ln. the pair have been spotted numerous times on dates and caught in moments of affection

2,999 comments

user8 yn’s clothing brand liked this! 

→ user9 that doesn’t mean anything?

→ user8 well, considering that is her own brand, and they’re a part of her image, i’d say it means something 

user10 anyone else notice that they’re wearing different outfits in every photo, which means they’re all from different days/dates

user11 i’m going feral

user12 okay but you can’t even deny that this is them because it very clearly is 

user13 people said i was crazy when i talked about these two being together! 

user14 they’re so hot together. i might actually combust 

user15 i’m (s)creaming

user16 the hand holding 🥹 they’re not just fucking

user17 my new otp 

━━━━ ༻𖥸༺ ━━━━

kellypiquet just posted

liked by maxverstappen1, piquetjr and others

kellypiquet my 🩷

2,987 comments 

maxverstappen1 ❤️

→ user1 aha this is such a dry response lmao 

user2 wtf? i thought he was with yn

→ user3 that was just a rumour 

user4 he looks much better with yn 

→ user5 yeah but she can’t give him the stable relationship he needs so no wonder he went back to kelly. she’s always there lmao 

→ user6 yeah because she never lets that man go. she’s possessive and it’s not healthy

user7 max is so cute with p 

user8 my favourite thing about this post is that all of these pics are old because max is currently in a press conference with his long hair, not these short strands

user9 how could he leave yn like this? they were so cute together 

(comments on this post have been disabled)

yn_ln just posted

liked by landonorris, kellypiquet and others

yn_ln in honour of my tour starting, please enjoy my new single taste! 💋

14,033 comments

user1 omg a new album, a new tour and an additional song?

alexandrasaintmleux got this on repeat 

→ charles_leclerc this is true. it’s all we’ve had in the car

→ alexandrasaintmleux don’t act like you don’t know all the words 

user2 this was 100% written because of the max situation

jennaortega but how hot do we look 

user3 not kelly liking this! 

→ user4 i like to think the middle picture is aimed at her for stealing yn’s man

redbullracing blue is definitely your colour

→ mclaren she looks better in orange 

→ scuderiaferrari we think she should try red next 

→ yn_ln i’ll wear whatever colour invites me to watch rich men drive around in circles next

→ alpinef1team pink it is! 

landonorris i liked the parts where you died

oscarpiastri oh so you’re allowed to make height comments but i wasn’t?

→ yn_ln please refer to the end picture

user5 chat, i can’t stop thinking about “he pins you down on the carpet, makes paintings with his tongue” 

→ user6 max verstappen, i was not familiar 

━━━━ ༻𖥸༺ ━━━━

yn_ln just posted

liked by redbullracing, oscarpiastri and others

yn_ln i heard there’s some sort of race on so i thought i would show some support. let’s play spot the team

10,001 comments 

user7 omg did you see that charles and alex were there! 

→ user8 and pierre and kika

→ user9 well, we know who got charles in the divorce 

user10 we all know who red bull wants in max’s garage 👀

→ user11 the fact that they liked a gossip post of him dumping kelly and are now all over yn’s insta 

user12 okay but the placement of the bulls has me weak in the knees

user13 who’s your favourite driver? 

→ yn_ln daniel ricciardo

→ danielricciardo showing this to everyone i know

→ user14 does that include max? liked by danielricciardo 

user15 we love a petty queen because you can’t tell me the writing isn’t aimed at kelly and max 

→ user16 and the bull instead of the kiss

mclaren we’re hurt. truly hurt that you didn’t post a pic with our logo 

→ yn_ln you have a whole insta post dedicated to you! 

alexandrasaintmleux the hottest concert i’ve ever been to

→ charles_leclerc still can’t believe she arrested you when i was right there

landonorris does this mean you can come to the race? like you’re practically already there??

→ oscarpiastri i second this

━━━━ ༻𖥸༺ ━━━━

requests open. i'm just slow haha

coming soon; lewis hamilton baby angst

this wasn’t due out until next week but MAX WON!!! And so I’m posting this in honour of that. I’m just sorry this was planned as angst 😬😂

tag list

@peachiicherries @rosecentury @c-losur3 @heavy-vettel @evie-119 @raizelchrysanderoctavius @lilorose25

[whytheylosttheirminds]

Don't Call Me Kid - Chapter 6 (part two)

(Rafe Cameron x Reader series, 4.1k words)

series summary: You'd had a crush on Rafe Cameron since you were six years old, but he friend zoned you at every turn. Once shy and insecure, you found new confidence and self-love after high school. When your high school friends go on a reunion beach trip, Rafe finally sees what he lost, but he isn't going to give you up without a fight.

tropes: unrequited crush, glow up, she fell first/he fell harder

series content: some angst, eventual fluff, slow burn, tomfoolery and shenanigans, drinking, fem!reader has occasional insecurity and body image issues

⇢ series masterlist

additional chapter cw! suggestive moments, mature readers only please!

You and Carter didn’t fight, it just didn’t happen.

Like any sisters, you got on each other’s nerves, you disagreed on things, you borrowed each other’s clothes without asking - but you didn’t fight. 

Growing up, your parents fought all the time. You and Carter would sit in her bedroom and listen to music, talking and laughing and pretending not to hear. Ever since then, you had a silent agreement; you didn’t fight and you never raised your voices at each other.

The problem with this system was that you were never quite sure when she was upset with you. Your stomach churned the whole rest of your shower, as she stood uncharacteristically quiet at the bathroom sink and did her makeup.

Maybe she hadn’t heard you, or maybe she had just hated your words so much that she couldn’t even respond to them. You knew she wouldn’t like it when you admitted that you’d be with Rafe if he asked you, but pretending it had never been said seemed particularly childish. 

A little while later, you sat on a stool in front of the bathroom mirror as she did your hair and makeup. You found your eyes continually drifting up to her, searching for any sign of anger. When a full half-an-hour passed and she still hadn’t responded to your comments about Rafe, you broke down and asked, “are you mad at me?”

“For what?” She scrunched her eyebrows.

“For what I said in the shower,” you wrung your hands in your lap, not sure you wanted the answer.

“Bitch, you know I have the short term memory of an ant, you’re gonna have to give me more to work with.”

You laughed at her bluntness, the lightheartedness of her words relaxing you enough to face your fear.

“What I said about Rafe,” you said. “That I’d be with him if he asked me to.”

She paused her work on your hair, setting the brush down and meeting your eyes in the mirror.

“When did you say that?” She twisted her lips.

“When you came back in, while I was in the shower.”

She shook her head, “must’ve been talking to someone else because I’ve definitely never heard you say that. I feel like I would’ve remembered something so insane.”

You looked down at your hands in your lap, playing the whole thing back in your mind. You had definitely heard someone come in, the door squeaking at their arrival. That means someone else in the house was walking around with your deepest secret. And now Carter knew it too.

“Oh,” you said. “Never mind then.”

“Yeah right, you really think I’m just gonna move on from that?” Carter put her hands on her hips.

“We could just pretend I never said anything,” you shrugged.

“Yes you know me,” Carter rolled her eyes, “I’m famous for letting things go and being super chill when I hear someone say something batshit crazy.”

You sighed, “okay fine, but what you didn’t hear was me following the statement up by saying I know I shouldn’t be with him ‘cause I’d probably hate myself the whole time.”

Carter started working on your hair again, her contorted face betraying her attempt to act casual.

“Please just say whatever you’re thinking,” you urged her.

“I don’t want to tell you what to do,” she replied.

You snorted, “since when?”

“I just, like, ugh,” she dropped her head back in frustration. “Why him? Like I’ve never understood. What is it about him?”

“I don’t know,” you said honestly. “I’ve never really known. He’s just…”

“Arrogant, selfish, a bully…” she finished your sentence for you.

“Stop,” you laughed, shaking your head.  

“Just be careful, okay?” She placed her hands on your shoulders, meeting your eye in the mirror. “I don’t want to see you get hurt again.”

“I know,” you nodded. “I will be.”

“If Rafe Cameron has zero haters then I am dead,” she concluded.

“I know that too,” you smiled.

Carter leaned past you to collect a couple bobby pins from the bathroom sink, her shirt slipping slightly off her shoulder and revealing a patch of deep purple marks.

“Oh my god,” you squealed. “Are those hickies?!”

She dragged her shirt back over her shoulder defensively.

“No! I fell!”

“Uh-huh, right onto Topper’s mouth apparently!” You poked her side, teasing her.

“Shut up,” she smiled and you cackled. 

After that, the Rafe conversation was dropped as you pressed Carter for more details on her hook up with Topper. She tried to play cool, but you could tell there was something more going on under the surface that she didn’t want to say. You decided to be patient, if she was going to finally come to terms with her feelings for him, she was going to do it all on her own.

When she was finally done with your hair and makeup, you inspected yourself in the mirror. 

“Baddie,” she winked at you.

You blushed, “alright let’s go, the boys are probably waiting.”

Carter stood back and crossed her arms, giving you an incredulous look.

“What?” You questioned.

“You’re not wearing that.”

You looked down at your outfit, a crop top, black jeans, and boots. You thought it was a perfectly acceptable clubbing outfit, but Carter clearly disagreed.

“Why not?”

“We’re going out to, like, clubs. In downtown Miami. You gotta stunt on ‘em a little bit,” she argued.

“I am! Look how tight these jeans are,” you did a spin to display your point.

“Good thing I brought the perfect dress in your size for just such an occasion,” she ignored you.

“Oh okay so this was a premeditated makeover?” You smiled.

She ran down the hall to her room and returned with a lacy, red minidress. Knowing you’d lose any argument you posed, you changed into it reluctantly. The corset top hugged your waist, pushing your chest up. Your shoulders slumped instinctually, like you could hide away in yourself. You’d come a long way on your self-love journey, but your self-doubt still crept in from time to time. 

As per usual, Carter sensed it right away.

“Shoulders back, head up,” Carter reminded you. “Let ‘em know.”

You took a deep breath, nodding in the mirror, choosing to leave your insecurities behind. You’d borrow her faith in you for just one night.

As Carter, Maddie and Sabrina did their final touch ups and compared outfits, you pulled on your heels and headed downstairs. The other girls didn’t seem concerned with punctuality, but you were sure Topper was probably freaking out about how long they were taking.

It wasn’t Topper you found in the kitchen, though. 

Rafe stood at the sink with his back to you, his black button up pulled taught over his defined back muscles as he stared off into space and the cup in his hand overflowed.

You smiled, holding your shoulders back as Carter had taught you, bracing for him to see you in this dress.

“Thirsty?”

⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄

He felt his resolve break with the rest of his brain, dizzy and drowning in the sight of you. He had the ridiculous urge to shield his eyes, like he was hiding them from the sun, your beauty too overwhelming to gaze directly at.

He set the glass down on the counter, drying his hands with a nearby towel, never once breaking eye contact with you.

Licking his lips quickly, he shamelessly let his eyes drag over your bare legs and up your body, knowing full well you could see him take in every inch of you. He didn’t care, he needed you to understand what you were doing to him.

When his eyes finally landed on yours, he clenched his jaw tight, nostrils flaring with his rising pulse. He tilted his head to the side, narrowing his eyes, telling you silently: you’re killing me.

“You like it?” You whispered, running your hands over the lacy fabric.

Rafe opened his mouth to answer, planning something along the lines of “do I like it? Are you fucking kidding me?” but before he could, the rest of the girls came clamorring down the stairs behind you, stealing the moment. 

At the sound of clicking heels and giggles, the rest of the boys came filing into the room.

Rafe gave you one more longing look before handing Kelce the glass of water. Kelce tried to protest, but Rafe shoved it in his hands anyway.

“We’re not leaving ‘til you drink it,” Rafe scolded him.

“Taking over Topper’s mom duties?” Maddie laughed at the exchange.

“No, Rafe’s much more dad vibes,” Carter countered.

“Yes and mom and dad will be pissed if our Ubers leave, so let’s go children,” Topper herded the group toward the front door. 

Rafe took the now empty glass from Kelce and left it in the sink, and you lingered back for a second, pretending to fix your shoe so you’d both end up at the back of the pack. He watched as you bent down and fiddled with the slingback, hovering close when you stood.

“Nice dress,” he mumbled down to you.

“You think so?” You twisted your lips to keep from beaming at him, trying to maintain some semblance of nonchalance.

“There’s not much of it,” he teased, scratching the back of his head as he looked down over the lacy fabric. “But yeah, it’s nice.”

“You gonna give me the ‘you’re not leaving the house in that, young lady’ treatment?” You pressed him. “You really are like the dad.”

“Why? Would you change if I told you to?” He asked skeptically.

“Not a fucking chance,” you scoffed, swinging your hips as you spun and made for the front door.

He was really planning on staying away from you? What a fucking joke. He followed you out of the house like you had him on a leash. He was in for a long night.

⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄

It took all of five minutes for Carter to grab Topper’s hand and pull him to the corner of the club, and it took even less time for their close talking to become a full on makeout.

You smirked at them as you ordered another drink, knowing you’d need something to help you get through this evening if Carter wasn’t going to be by your side. You could feel Tom’s eyes on you as he approached from the other side of the bar.

The whole Uber here, Tom had been eyeing you in the rear view mirror from the front seat. The only stare that made you more uncomfortable was Sabrina’s. It couldn’t be more clear that she’d grown attached to him on their jet ski ride, laughing loud at his unfunny jokes and hovering in his vicinity all night. You had unwittingly fallen into a love triangle you wanted nothing to do with.

You could feel his attempt to hit on you before he even spoke.

“Put her drink on my tab,” Tom told the bartender. 

“Oh, you don’t need to do that,” you said, not wanting to give him any openings.

“Not a problem,” he said. “I know I’ve been kind of a jerk today, the least I can do is buy you a drink to say sorry.”

The bartender handed you the glass, and you immediately took a sip, fiddling with the straw uncomfortably.

“Sorry for what?” You feigned ignorance.

“Last night, I didn’t mean to make you feel weird,” he said, stepping closer to you. He clearly couldn’t see the irony that he was apologizing for making you feel weird while actively making you feel weird. “I just think you’re really cool and I wanted to get to know you better.”

He was crowding your space now, the scent of his heavy cologne choking your senses. Just a few days ago, you found the same smell enticing, but now, there was only one person you wanted standing this close.

Your eyes flicked over Tom’s shoulder, scanning the crowd for him. You found him leaning against the wall, Kelce talking to him emphatically about something you couldn’t hear. You didn’t have to get his attention, his eyes were already on you. Tight lipped smile, you flicked your eyes between him and Tom, trying to communicate your need for his assistance.

Rafe didn’t need anything more to understand what you were asking, tuned in to your every move and sensing your need for him before you even caught his eye. He pushed off the wall and left Kelce talking to no one so he could shove his way through the crowd. Taller than almost everyone, you tracked him the whole way through the sea of people. Tom seemed none the wiser, continuing hitting on you.

“Maybe we could get out of here,” Tom suggested, leaning in a little too close so you could hear him over the music.

“Nah, not tonight bro.” 

Rafe appeared by your side just in time, forcing Tom to take a step back as he draped his arm over your shoulders possessively. Tom’s eyes flew between the two of you as you reached up to the hand on your shoulder and threaded your fingers with Rafe’s. Relief swelled through your body as Tom stepped back. You leaned into Rafe’s hold more, wrapping your arm around his waist and giving him a grateful squeeze. You knew he felt it when you saw his mouth perk up at the corners. But he didn’t take his eyes off Tom, his work here unfinished.

“Since when are you two together?” Tom puzzled defensively.

“Look man, why don’t you go find, uh, Sabrina,” Rafe waved him off. “Or literally any other girl here.”

As if Rafe’s suggestion had summoned her, Sabrina appeared at Tom’s side.

“Oh my god,” she slurred, eyes red and glossy with intoxication. “Are y’all a thing now? Girl, I never thought you’d actually do it. Good for you!”

It had the cadence of women supporting women, but the undertone was clear. You didn’t miss the disbelief in her tone, subtly trying to cut you down while appearing to lift you up. If Carter was here, she’d bitch her out. But you didn’t need saving from this one.

You tightened your hold on Rafe’s hand, swinging his arm from around your shoulders but not letting go. You pulled him away from Tom and Sabrina, leading him deep into the crowd on the dancefloor. 

Before he had the chance to ask what you were doing, you placed his hands on your waist, spinning in his grasp until your back was flush with his chest and moving to the music. He made no protest, squeezing you between his hands and swaying along with you. Tom and Sabrina watched from across the room, his jaw clenched and her arms crossed.

After a few minutes, both sets of eyes eventually left you, but you didn’t notice, and you didn’t stop. It wasn’t for show anymore. You closed your eyes as you continued to let the music move you. Rafe’s strong arms on either side of you, your brain flashed images of his half naked body in the kitchen and how he kneeled in front of you in the basement. The same fingertips that had so gently caressed your calf were now burrowing into the soft flesh of your hips. One of your arms stretched up, your palm finding the back of his neck, kneading his skin as you clung to him.

When you looked up to meet his eyes, they were ablaze with pure lust. Your lips parted to tell him you felt it too, but you couldn’t bring yourself to say it. Instead you showed him, your body moving through the music like water. The bass pumped through your chest, tangling with your thumping heart beat until you couldn’t tell which was which. 

Rafe held you tight against him, like if he let you go you might slip under the waves again. His head sank low, until the tip of his nose was grazing just over the curve of your neck. He was hardly moving, not so much dancing as swaying, letting you do the work his eyes drank in every inch of your body.

With a precise roll of your hips, you pushed against him, and you nearly gasped at the feeling of something hard and demanding pressing into your hip. Your lips twisted with the sweetest satisfaction.

“Thought you were trying to be a gentleman,” you said over the music.

“I was,” he brought his lips to your ear so you could hear him. “But you’re making it too fucking hard.”

Smirking, you twisted in his arms until you were facing each other. You both caught the accidental euphemism and met eyes, breaking into matching laughter.

“You know what I mean,” he rolled his eyes.

“I don’t think I do,” you teased with a quirked eyebrow. “Enlighten me.”

His smile fell, as did his hands, lowering from your waist to your hips. You reached both arms up, wrapping around his neck and lacing your fingers behind him. 

His eyes swept over your face as he whispered, “you look so-”

“Cute?” 

You meant it in jest, but he didn’t laugh. His eyes darkened and his jaw clenched as he took you in, serious as hell when he said,

“So fucking beautiful.”

You shuddered in his arms, and he ran his hand down your exposed back, tracing his fingers delicately over your spine.

“Been driving me crazy since I saw you on the beach,” he continued.

His hand kept falling lower, though it slowed as it reached your lower back, asking for permission with his hesitancy. Your body arched into him without even thinking about it. His palm glided over your ass, the soft fabric of your dress and your plush flesh beneath it pulling an involuntary groan from him. He went lower still, slotting his fingers in the crease where your ass meets your thigh, lingering, setting up camp like he’d stay there all night if you let him. He found the spot so deliberately that you knew he’d been thinking about it for days. 

You waited with baited breath, your silence inviting him to keep talking. 

All he said next was your name. It was low and needy, like a request, or maybe a warning. Flames erupted in your stomach and sent a hot blush sweeping across your body.

“Do you…” your throat tightened with vulnerability, “do you want to go somewhere?”

Yes, Rafe thought, anywhere, for any amount of time.

But there was a small voice in the back of his head giving him pause. Your voice, earlier today in the shower, when you thought you were talking to someone else.

“I don’t want you to hate yourself,” he shook his head, sad eyes falling from your face to his shoes.

You tilted your head as you examined him, unsure for a moment what he meant. Then it clicked, realizing those were your words on his lips. He was the one who heard you in the bathroom. You fought the temptation to run away in embarrassment when you remembered what else he must’ve heard. 

After all you’d admitted to, the piece he was clearly holding onto was the only part you didn’t actually mean. You had added the detail about hating yourself when you thought you were talking to Carter and that she was upset with you.

It was too much to explain to him there on the crowded dance floor. You slipped your hand into his and pulled him from the crowd, out a side door and into the alleyway.

Once outside, you tucked your hair behind your ears and looked down anxiously at your feet. The loss of the music and the sobering night air weakened the boldness you had mustered inside.

“When you said we should go somewhere I wasn’t picturing so much garbage,” Rafe motioned towards the nearby dumpster. 

You laughed, his playful words successfully easing your nerves. You took a deep breath and reminded yourself why you’d brought him out here.

“You heard me, didn’t you? In the shower?” 

“I’m sorry,” he blushed, caught red handed. “I wasn’t trying to spy or anything. But…yeah.”

“I didn’t mean it,” you told him.

Hurt flashed in his eyes for just a second, before he nodded and squared his shoulders to cover it up.

“Got it,” he shrugged.

“No, I mean, the hating myself part,” you clarified. 

“So the other stuff…?” He was quick to follow up.

The door for you to finally tell him how you felt was wide open in front of you, but you weren’t sure if you could walk through it. The words you’d been holding back your whole life sat on the tip of your tongue, but refused to pass your lips. You looked at him helplessly.

“I can’t,” you shook your head.

Rafe sighed deeply, pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration.

“What? You can’t what?” 

Your mouth fell open in disbelief, incensed that he was the one with an attitude here.

“You know what?” You said, hands on your hips. “I don’t think you have a lot of room to be snapping at me, Rafe. Not after everything you’ve done.”

“Everything I’ve done?” He huffed. “Please, tell me what I did that’s so terrible?”

“Seriously? High school wasn’t that long ago, Rafe.”

“Look I know I was a dick, okay?” He stepped forward, voice softening a bit with his apology. “And maybe you’ll never forgive me. But all that shit? That guy? That’s in the past, and I don’t want to talk about the past anymore, I just wanna be with you now.”

“I don’t know, Rafe,” you shook your head sadly. “I don’t know if I can just pretend none of that happened.”

“How long then?” He threw his hands up in exasperation. “Tell me how long I’m gonna be paying for some shit I did when I was seventeen so I at least have an idea, please. Give me a date so I can plan for it.”

“Let’s see, Rafe, I wanted you for twelve years, you’ve wanted me for like two days. Does that seem even to you?”

Your words struck him, the anger in his eyes dissolving, replaced with tenderness. He stepped towards you tentatively, ducking just a bit to better read your face. 

“You really think I’ve only wanted you for two days?” He mumbled softly. “Baby…”

It was the second time he’d called you that today. You were in too much pain when he said it after you fell off the jet ski, but your brain had tucked it away subconsciously to revisit when you felt better. He’d called you baby before, when you were in high school. It had always given you butterflies, and you never called attention to it, afraid he’d stop if he realized how much it meant to you.

Since then, you’d reframed the memories to convince yourself that he never actually meant it, that it was some kind of manipulation tactic. But the way it rolled so naturally off his tongue earlier, and the way he’d breathed it so desperately now, made you reconsider.

“Please don’t call me that,” you pleaded. “Not if you don’t mean it.”

Rafe just blinked back at you, not an ounce of deception in his voice when he said, “I’ve always meant it.”

His confession pinched your heart, the whole story rewriting itself in your mind. For the first time ever, you let yourself actually believe that he cared for you, that he’d always cared for you. To anyone else who knew the whole story, it might seem unlikely, but seeing the look in his eyes right now, you had never been so sure of anything in your life.

You bit your lip as you looked up at him, your deep longing for him stronger than ever. He felt it too, you could tell by the way he drew closer, his body lining up with yours, eyes locked to your lips.

With the most tenderness you’ve ever encountered, he reached his hand up, the pad of his thumb landing on your bottom lip and pulling it gently from between your teeth, undoing you.

“Rafe…” you whispered, a plea and a question, as his lips ghosted over yours.

“Can I?” He breathed. “Please?”

You nodded, never meaning anything more than when you told him “yes.”

(chapter 7)

a/n: chat what do we think? are we forgiving him? only 3 chapters to goooo. Also I wrote “shoulders back. head up. let ‘em know.” on my bathroom mirror as my new morning mantra 💘

please note, the taglist for this series is currently closed. For updates, follow @whytheylosttheirminds-works and turn on notifs 💕

[snakespeare]

Cats will literally puke all day, on every surface in every room, and refuse to elaborate

[pellucid-constellations]

I'd Answer

You've been gone. Azriel's been broken. Something has to change, and Azriel would do anything.

Part 2 of If You Cared to Ask

“This is for you,” Mor huffed, plopping down a small bouquet of roses onto the growing garden that seemed to have sprouted on the table. “What is that, number twelve?” 

“I don’t know, I don’t count them,” you brushed off, your gaze falling on the gifts for a fleeting moment.

Mor hummed. “Are they doing anything for you?” 

“Not particularly.” 

Your friend shuffled into the small sitting room and gracefully landed in the chair beside yours, her eyes piercing a hole in the side of your head when you refused to look up. She sighed, and then sighed again, making a show of slotting her chin in her palm and looking forlorn. 

The third sigh was your breaking point. 

You placed your book on the table and turned to Mor with your brows raised. “Yes?” 

“Oh, nothing,” she airily replied. “I was just wondering when you were going to give this up. You don’t have to forgive the guy, but at least put me out of my misery and let me tell him where you’re staying. I’m basically a delivery service at this point. He says sorry again, by the way.” 

“Oh, well in that case—” 

“More than just sorry, but I can’t remember everything he said. It was all rambly and his face was all gaunt.” Mor pressed her fingers up to cover her eyes. “I’m not even sure if he’s eating. Rhys had to stop sending him out because he almost fell out of the sky.”

“Is this supposed to make me feel bad?”

You hoped your ruse was believable because hearing that Azriel was doing so poorly did make you feel bad. Your heart lept up to your throat at the prospect of your mate falling from the sky from exhaustion. But he had had so many opportunities to make this right and you weren’t about to give up your anger so easily. 

Mor offered a sad expression that looked authentic this time. “Y/n, he loves you. He’s an idiot and the whole lot of them are mindless fools, but Azriel has never loved anything the way he loves you.” 

“Yeah, I’m sure,” you snorted. “And he shows that love by forgetting me and then arguing when I’m clearly upset over it?” 

“I know. He told me how much of an ass he’s been. But, I promise you, I’ve known Azriel for a long time. He was just—just handling everything with Rhys poorly. He felt so so guilty when Rhys got trapped. You know that.” 

You bit the inside of your cheek and avoided Mor’s gaze. “I know.” 

The lack of vitriol in your tone had Mor perking up. “And you remember how hard he tried to get him back—how broken he was when Rhys sent out his last message. Az feels responsible for everything when it comes to his family.”

You didn’t need the reminder. The tortured way he carried himself over the past 50 years was evidence enough of the truth behind Mor’s words. And you had been there to soothe that pain, to help run the court that Rhys left behind. 

When silence persisted, Mor craned her neck to catch your gaze. “I’m not saying what he did was right, but you know he’s been in overdrive since Rhys returned. He goes off on those missions when Rhys calls, but… y/n, he only leaves without notice when his informants…” 

Mor trailed off. 

Your gaze finally flickered up. “When?” 

Mor bit her lip and winced. “He told me not to tell you this part. He said he didn’t want you to think he was making excuses.” 

“Tell me anyways.” 

“Fine. But you can’t rat me out.” Mor sighed and leaned back in the chair, still facing you. “He does go on every mission Rhys proposes, and that’s… stupid, but he tells you about those ones, I think. When he just up and leaves, it’s because—y/n, it’s because they're about you. You know there’s a slew of people that want you dead for your involvement up in Illyria. He has a team of informants with the sole purpose of listening for you name.

“He goes on Rhys’s missions because he doesn’t want his family separated again, but sometimes, it’s because he just wants to protect his mate.” 

A stone dropped past your ribs and into your stomach. “But, he never told me—” 

“You know these overgrown bats think that suffering in silence is an honorable thing to do,” Mor rolled her eyes. “They overwork themselves fighting the good fight or whatever and seem to forget that the rest of the world is still out there, facing the consequences of their actions. And… I think he just wanted you to feel safe. I think he’s been scared.” 

Something sickly climbed its way up your consciousness. You looked down at your hands as they rested in your lap. 

You hadn’t seen Azriel in six days, and each day had more anger coursing through you, building up a wall that you thought impenetrable. Because you were so angry; Azriel had disappointed you time and time again, left you feeling abandoned and alone, and then he got defensive about it as if you were the one at fault. 

Part of you always knew it was a defense of some sort, but you had thought it a defense of something nefarious. You had tossed around the idea of infidelity a few times, and that rivaled the thought of him simply falling out of love with you. 

But it was this. 

It was him hiding how hard he’d been trying to protect you—however idiotic his tactics may have been. 

“You can tell him where I am,” you murmured clenching your fingers into your palm. “And leave the door unlocked, I guess.” 

Mor had left the small apartment on the outskirts of Velaris before you finished your sentence. 

It took approximately 7 minutes for a tentative knock to sound at your door. 

Mor had left it unlocked, but there was still a knock. 

You took a glance at the pile of flowers on the table before heading to the front door. The old floorboards creaked under your feet, a reminder of the rundown apartment you had sought out after you left. It was a frantic process, searching for a place to stay; you hadn’t cared much for luxury or comfort.  

Opening the door was jarring. Azriel’s wings were half-raised as if he’d just flown down and then forgot how to control them. His face was pallid with dark smudges beneath his eyes. His hair was windswept, expected from the flight, but it looked tugged at and disheveled beyond that. 

“Hi.” 

Maybe you’d been looking him over too long because Azriel’s voice cracked at the single word. He sounded unsure, verging on afraid, and all you had done was pass over his figure with your eyes. 

You tightened your grip on the door handle. “Um, hi.” Your tone was harsher than you meant it to be. 

Azriel flinched. “I’m sorry, Mor said…” 

“No, I—Come in.” 

You stepped back and pushed the door open to accommodate his hesitant steps into your rental. Azriel stood in the middle of the space and wrung his hands as you shuffled behind him, a slight tremor showing in his fingers. You leaned back against the door with your own hands pressed at the small of your back. You watched Azriel’s lingering gaze trail over the flowers in the corner of the room. 

“You didn’t like them?” he meekly asked. 

Something inside of you hurt. 

“They were okay,” you answered. “But I didn’t want flowers.” 

Azriel nodded and his lashes fluttered shut. His hands twitched. 

“I’m sorry—for the flowers, I mean. They were a pathetic reason to send Mor to you. You wanted to be left alone.” 

“I did not want to be left alone, Azriel.” You kicked away from the door, bringing your arms across your chest for some form of protection. “I wanted you. I wanted you to care about me.”

“I do,” Azriel stressed. He took a step forward and the wood beneath his boot creaked. “I do, y/n.  I care about you more than anything—I love you.” 

“Then why couldn’t you show me? Why did it take me leaving, me getting hurt, for you to finally listen to me and see how much I’ve needed you?” 

Your chest was heaving, each word from your lips a choked gasp. Azriel took all of it and absorbed your full meaning, seeming to wince at every insinuation that he didn’t love you. His jaw quivered and he opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out. 

“Why did you stop talking to me?” you asked, a broken rendition of your anger. “Why—Mor told me… She told me things. Things that make sense. But why does it feel like I don’t matter to you?” 

“My love,” Azriel stressed. Yearned. He rushed forward, abandoning all reservations and gathering you into his arms as tears began making headway down your cheeks. “I’m so sorry, baby. I can’t—I’m so so sorry.” His words were almost lost against your temple as he held you, each apology a whisper of a kiss against your skin. 

“You weren’t there and Devlon—he—” 

“I know, angel, I know and I’m so sorry. Had I known… Had I listened.” He pulled you back from his chest, crouching down to meet your eye and wiping tears from your cheeks. “All I’ve ever wanted to do was keep you safe. I thought I was doing that. I don’t know what Mor told you—” 

“She told me everything. She told me you’ve been following leads about me and taking on too much. She told me you’re scared.” 

Azriel breathed and it sounded anguished. “I am terrified. We lost Rhysand and now you are in the throes of a society that almost killed me. I—I wake up every morning and everything is good and I am so afraid to lose that. I thought I was protecting you, protecting us. But I almost lost you and—” 

You let out a breathy cry. “You could never lose me, Azriel.” 

He pressed his forehead to yours, the wetness of his cheeks now apparent. Azriel’s hands were firm on either side of your head and his fingers laced up into your hair. 

Gods, you missed him. 

You missed him and everything hurt. 

“I’ll do better. I’ll be better. Just please—please, don’t leave again. Please come home. Let me fix this.”

The want was overwhelming. It would be so easy to say yes, but it would be just as easy for nothing to change. 

“You can’t do that again, Azriel,” you stressed, shaking your head and causing your mate to draw back. Only a breath was left between you. “You have to tell me what’s going on. You can’t—you can’t leave me in the dark. You can’t make me feel like that.”

Azriel’s head shook in desperation. “I won’t. I promise I won’t.” 

“I need to know I can rely on you—trust you.” 

“You can, angel.” 

“I need to know that you love me.” 

A pained sound escaped Azriel’s throat. He licked his lips and reaffirmed his hold on your face, locking his eyes with yours in a beseeching gaze. 

“I love you more than life itself, angel. I couldn’t breathe when you were gone. I can’t believe I made you think that I don’t. You are my life. Let me show you. Please, let me show you.”

You tracked your eyes between both of his. “Okay, Azriel.” 

“I’m going to keep you safe.”

“I am safe.” 

“I love you.” 

"I know you do, Az. I know."

[cherryrikis]

EVERYTHING BUT NOTHING

PAIRING football captain bf jake x fem reader

WARNINGS swearing, arguments, jake makes a singular joke about killing himself

GENRE angst

SYNOPSIS jake is just the nicest guy, everyone knows that. and he’s even sweeter as a boyfriend rather than an acquaintance. even after an argument, you could never stay mad at him for long. but you question that when you hear him talking about you after school.

read part 2 here ?

“are you gonna talk to jake? i know that argument was pretty intense, but you’ve gone a week with no contact.” yuna asked as she tilted her head, standing by your locker while she waited for you to grab your belongings.

“eventually, yeah. i was thinking today after school. the thing with jake though, he either shuts down, or acts like it never happened whenever i want to talk about an argument.” you sighed.

it’s true. as open as jake may appear to be, it’s all but factual. you could never have a real talk with your boyfriend, because he hated confrontation. avoided it entirely.

typically, you don’t let arguments get in the way of your relationship. especially since living together is hard if you’re having frequent conflicts. it wasn’t too much of a problem now though, since he’s been staying at jay’s. but when you brought up the fact that he’s been spending too much time at practice, and that he always forgets your dates, jake let it all out.

it shouldn’t have been as big of a problem as it was. you just wanted to talk. but he finally argued back.

“i get it. sohee is exactly the same! don’t stress though. i know jake is a good guy, he’ll come around.” she smiled. “now let’s go to class? passing period is almost over, and yizhuo has been saving our seats.”

the lecture seemed to go by faster than usual. you were nervous as you steadily approached jake’s locker, which was directly outside his last class.

but when you heard his oh too familiar voice, you stopped in your tracks. you felt your heart sink to the floor as your stomach dropped.

“god. guys, don’t ever get a girlfriend. i’m bounded to long walks on the beach and dinner dates till i die. y/n’s demanding too much of me. i might just kill myself one day.” jake sighed.

“okay but dude, your girlfriends cool and all yet she’s lowkey uptight.” you heard heeseung say as he slapped jake’s shoulder.

“yeah man, you’ve been missing too much practice for your dates now. coach is getting upset. i saw yours and y/n’s texts the other day, and she micromanages you a lot. blink twice if you need help.” sunghoon joked as the three of them laughed out loud.

“i know, i know. i love y/n, but i cannot with her lately. thank god jay let me crash at his after the argument, because i couldn’t live with her constant nagging. she’s so fucking annoying.” he snickered. but, all their faces fell once they saw you.

you slammed jake’s locker door shut with so much force, your hand turned bright red. him and sunghoon flinched harshly, while heeseung and jay had no reaction.

your face ran hot, you felt it as you tightly closed your eyes, holding back the urge to burst out crying. the glass tears threatened to roll down your cheeks.

but one look at his desperate eyes filled with regret, and you tipped over the edge. your salty tears spilled out, past your lashes.

you sniffled as you continued to cry uncontrollably, staring at their flustered faces. jake reached out to wipe your face, but you pushed his hand away, wiping the tears yourself.

“you fucking asshole.” you whispered. “i came here to apologize. but you can’t leave it be.”

“y/n..” his eyes softened, voice faltering as his words were laced with regret and shame. he reached out for you once more, but you stepped back.

the distance between you two physically and emotionally only continued to grow. “baby, just let me talk. like you wanted.” he pleaded, begging, almost.

“i.. hate you.. how could you ever talk about me like that? i never once would even think about saying something like that about you, like you did me.” you scoffed, looking behind him as you finally realized his friends left the scene.

you watched as his eyes watered, with one last attempt of trying to reach you. but he knew you were untouchable in this moment.

“sweetheart?” he watched as you began to walk backwards, away from him.

but you didn’t let up, still hurt. you shook your head, silently telling him no.

with every step you took backwards, jake moved forward, before finally grabbing your wrists tightly so you can’t leave him.

“it costs nothing to be a sweet guy, like the version everyone sees of you. but it takes everything to be an asshole.” you mumble, before pushing him away, finally and surely leaving out the school’s glass doors.

and jake remained there, his regret suddenly transferred into anger. he kicked his locker, watching the metal rattle.

he hated how his such childish and immature words cost nothing yet everything.

“fuck..” he muttered.

“fuck!” jake said once more, but louder, yelling it out loud.

he watched out the window as you walked towards the parking lot, before getting into your car and leaving without a second thought.

“please don’t leave me.” he whispered as his vision turned blurry.

“please don’t leave me..”

[queers-gambit]

What Goes Around, Comes Around

prompt: ( requested ) Billy's known for his temper and being obsessed with his pretty little girlfriend - which gets her severely injured by his past transgressions.

pairing: Billy Hargrove x female!cheerleader!reader -> reader and Billy are both 18+, seniors in high school

word count: 6.7k+

fandom masterlist: Stranger Things

note: you're a liar if you didn't immediately start singing Justin Timberlake's "What Goes Around... Comes Around".

warnings: remember there are different responses to trauma! some people shut down, stop talking; others jabber and chatter nervously. reader is the latter. we got angst, we got literal hurt and comfort, established relationship. term "going postal" is used, cursing, technically underage drinking, not edited, author mildly gave up at the end. triggering content: depictions of physical violence, depictions of injury and blood, depiction of abuse, violent plots, Billy's girl gets physically assaulted (but it's minimally detailed).

DO NOT read if this content can potentially trigger you. you are NOT missing anything, you will miss NOTHING by skipping this, but i do try to keep the details as neutral as possible. again, prioritize yourself, mental health, and emotional state - this ain't worth the read if it's gonna upset you, i promise. author loves you all

"That's fucking her, I swear to God."

"You sure?"

"100%. That's Billy's little bitch he's obsessed with."

The three guys smirked at one another, eyeing you across the living room as you giggled and drank with a few friends in adorable, fashion forward outfits. Someone started a game of beer pong, you on the sidelines to cheer, giving them a full-show of your form.

"She's hot," Jake mused. "I can see why he keeps her so close."

"Nah, not tonight," Lawrence frowned, "heard they got in some huge fight at school. Like, she walked home and he sped off in his car."

"Hm, heard he's ridiculously protective of her... She must've really pissed him off," the third boy, Steven, nodded. "So, he's not here tonight?"

"Doubt it," Jake nodded.

"Go find out," Steven advised. "There, the basketball bros - one of them would know. Or a cheerleader," he eyed the crowd. "Chrissy's over there, Brittany's beside her - they'd be the best bet in my mind."

"We seriously considering this?" Lawrence asked with a small, nervous chuckle. "I mean, it's kinda crazy, isn't it? We're gonna send Billy Hargrove a message by roughing up his girl? There's not some better way?"

"I'd love to hear it," Steven scoffed. "Billy's too comfortable at the top of the school, broke my fucking nose and deviated Jake's septum. Didn't he fuck your sister the first week he was here, Lawrence?"

"I mean - "

"Broke her fucking heart, didn't he?" Jake tacked on.

"Well, yeah," Lawrence sighed, shrugging.

"You tell me, dude, was that shit fair?"

"No," Lawrence looked down.

"So, yeah, I know, it's bad to hit a lady - but what about my boot? Huh?" Steven smirked, nodding. "Go find out what you can. Last thing we need is Billy walkin' in the party, right?"

Jake nodded with enthusiasm, leaving Lawrence behind. He hesistated but then did as Steven asked; asking the present basketball team members if Billy gave indication he was coming. The cheerleaders assured he wouldn't dare show up when you were there after a very public fight, and if he did, it would be to cause another scene.

So, after reporting back to Steven, a plan was formed. Lawrence didn't seem fully on board, but in an effort to save his own skin, he went along with what Jake and Steven were plotting - even if that meant roughing up a woman. Something his mama and grandmama vehemently taught him not to do...

Something churned in his stomach when he heard how the two lads were nearly foaming at the mouth to get their revenge. So, he casually went to grab another drink - pausing where a few of your friends were. "Oi," he whispered, earning their attention.

"Hey, Law," Chrissy smiled.

"Hey, Chris," he sniffled, glancing around. "Listen, uh, you seen Billy 'round?"

"No? Why?"

"Hmm, just, uh... Heard his girl was all upset, thought maybe her drinking all that much was a bad idea without him around."

"Oh," Chrissy blinked, looking up at her boyfriend, Jason, as he approached the group with two drinks in hand. "I didn't think about it like that, Law."

"What's wrong?" Jason asked.

"No, nothing, Lawrence just pointed out how shitty it is to drink without someone watching your back," she pouted.

He nodded, "You lose your friends, man?"

"No, just tryna look out," Lawrence shrugged. "Few girls here drinking a lot, not a lot of defenses 'round them."

Jason frowned, "That's kinda their man's job, isn't it?"

"What if their man isn't here?"

"I'm gonna be right back," Chrissy smiled, parting ways with her girlfriend in tow - and when Law looked, they were using the kitchen telephone. He prayed they were phoning the Hargrove residence.

Lawrence sighed in slight relief and nodded to Jason; the white boy just nodding back silently and letting the other athlete pass him by to head back for Jake and Steven. He grabbed an unopened beer on his way to maintain appearances.

"Hey, we got it," Jake smirked at the third boy, "she just went outside, we should move now."

"Huh?" Law mumbled.

"C'mon," Steven growled, pushing off the mantle and stalking for the backdoors to follow your retreating form.

"Wait, what're we doing?" Law asked, trying to keep up with the drunken, elongated strides of the two dickheads he called 'friends'. "Hey! Guys, c'mon - what's going on?"

"Just - shut up, pussy boy, let's go, fuckin' keep up," Steven sneered, shoving the glass door out of his way and nearly cracking it.

Outside, the in-ground pool was alight with multicolored lights. There were teenagers littered all around the pool deck; some lounging and some standing, all drinking. There was a kegstand in play, ping pong table hosting another game of Beer Pong, and the thick stench of cigarette smoke in the air.

"She's over there," Jake pointed, their sights turning to see you leaning over to huff on your cigarette while Tammy May Flipsen lit the end of it. Your smile was genuine as you thanked her, just stepping two feet away to gaze up at the stars - a perfect time to strike.

The alcohol in everyone's system made them slow, vulnerable, and downright stupid; leaving Steven and Jake the opportunity to seize either of your arms and literally rush you around the corner of the house without anyone intervening.

Once in the remote side yard, the sickening plan commenced.

Lawrence could barely approach, managing to watch with tears in his eyes as the noises of the party masked the noises of pain you emitted; two nearly full-grown men took out their anger towards your boyfriend on you. You cried, begged for reprieve, sounded so confused and broken that it shattered Lawrence's heart - briefly thinking what if someone did this to his sister...

That made him spring into action. "Hey! No! No, this ain't right! Get off her!" Lawrence barked, shoving the two away from your body on the ground. "That's enough - back off - fuck is wrong with you!?"

"What the fuck do you think you're doing!?" Steven demanded.

"Bitch has it coming!"

"What? You fuckin' her, too? Got you pussy whipped like Billy Boy?"

"Just fuck off, beating on a girl!" Lawrence snapped, but it was a huge mistake. Jake and Steven shared a single look before launching at the third boy, beating him as they had you - but much harder. He swore he earned a concussion, their heels stomping his neck, collarbones, wrists, ribs, ankles; exactly the same as they did to you.

"Tryna defend her now!?" Jake heaved, giving a swift kick to Lawrence's kidney. "Huh? You're so scared of Billy but you're gonna mess with his girl?" He laughed. "She must have a magic cunt or something!"

"You're so fucking pathetic, you have to beat up a girl!?" Law shot right back, earning a swift kick to the jaw from the lad that used to play soccer (or American fútbol). "Huh? Two on one? Such big men, aren't yah?" He sneered again, spitting blood to the side.

"Leave it," Steven halted Jake when he charged again, "they're both pretty fucked."

"Well, that dumbass should learn a lesson 'bout interfering!"

"Law's learned - he has, bro, and if he wants, he can learn again," Steven spat on Lawrence's form, Jake doing the same to you - both eventually stalking away like bored toddlers walking away from broken toys.

Slowly, Lawrence grunted as he pulled himself up to sit against the side of the house. "Fuck's sake," he whispered, wiping his eyes and wincing when he felt the sore skin - trailing a finger up, wincing again when he discovered split skin above his eyebrow. "Ohhhh, fuuuuck," Law drawled when you slowly peaked up from your fetal position on the ground. "Hey, hey, you all right? Stupid question," he hissed in pain when he moved to try and assist you.

You cried out when his grip laid on you, but powered through to let him help you sit against the house, too. "Holy shit," you whispered, blood dribbling from your mouth; teeth feeling loose, a headache already assaulting you, and cuts stinging in the bitter night.

"I'm so sorry."

"N-No, you - it would've been so much worse if you hadn't..." You trailed off, sniffling, "You didn't have t'jump in, you got hurt 'cause of me."

"You got hurt 'cause of Billy," Lawrence frowned.

"Huh?"

"That's why they're so pissed off," Lawrence explained, spitting more blood to the side; his jeans stained with mud, blood, and grass. "Billy got their asses few weeks ago, they're still pissed... I heard them," he deflected smoothly, "talkin' about teaching Billy a lesson through you. Didn't feel right, but I should've stopped them so much sooner. I-I'm sorry I didn't do more, Y/N."

"You did more than anyone else," you whimpered, drawing your knees into your chest to lock your arms around them. "I don't even know them, they go to our school?"

"We're all in AP History with Snyder."

You paused to nod absently, not even bothering to try and recall any interactions you might've had with Steven and Jake. Instead, you eyed your savior, mumbling, "You're Lawrence, right?"

"Yeah," he breathed.

"Your sister's... Cara? Sarah? No, no," you paused to think, his frown deepening as you seemed so nice and authentic. "Your sister's name is Natalie, right?"

"Yeah," he half-smiled. "You know her?"

"She's a sweetheart, has those cute glasses? Yeah, I like her; she just joined cheer, right?"

"Yeah, that's her."

You eyed him for a moment, ignoring the blood dripping off you both from the beat down; then whispered with a sniffle, "Is that why you helped? 'Cause your sister's on the cheer squad, too?"

"No," he replied instantly, sounding quiet (like you), "I'd like to believe if I saw something I know is wrong... I'd be the type of person to step in, try to stop it."

"You did tonight."

"I should've done more a lot sooner."

"You could've been really hurt, Law."

"Like you?"

"I'm just - look, two guys? Beatin' on me? Yeah," you scoffed, wiping blood from your split lip, "like I ever stood a chance. But you didn't have t'do all that, they wanted Billy, found me instead. You could've walked away, but instead, you jumped in, and you could've been really hurt. That wouldn't help anyone."

"I'm still sorry..."

You sniffled, but before you could respond, you heard footsteps thundering over the lawn; a voice shouting your name in frantic, panicked little outbursts. Looking up, you caught sight of a black leather jacket and unruly blonde curls, frowning deeper. "Oh, fuck," you whispered, withdrawing into yourself, "oh, no, no, not now. Not now, Goddamnit. Think I can make a run for it to the street before he sees me?" You asked Law quietly, nearly hissing your whisper.

"Ain't that Billy?" Law asked, finger pointed.

"He can't see me," you rushed in a panic, eyes wide and tears welling. "Lawrence, he can't!"

"Why?"

"He'll go on a fucking rampage, Lawrence! Ever heard going postal? Yeah, Bee gives that shit new meaning."

"They'd deserve whatever Billy wants t'do," Law frowned, tensing up when Billy had turned, caught sight of you two, and made an angry beeline for you in the grass. "U-Uh, Billy's approaching," he warned you as your boyfriend arrived, trying to pull back to give privacy, but wincing in pain that made him stop.

"The fuck is going - ? Oh, my fuckin' God," Billy trailed off, then whispered when he saw you huddled on the ground; your dress in tatters. Your head was bowed, knees drawn in, refusing to meet his eyes; making your leather-clad boyfriend lower himself to a knee. "Baby? Hey, look at me, sweet girl, lemme see... C'mon, baby, please, look at me."

You only sniffled.

"It was Jake and Steven," Lawrence told Billy, trying to find his feet; falling over and just giving up.

"Hell happened to you, man?"

Lawrence frowned, looking nervous, but your voice answered, "He saved me, Bee. Jumped in, took some of the beating."

Billy looked between you and Lawrence, but focused on you - seeing the injuries to your face and chest in full light. "Oh, my God," he breathed, looking you over in shock. Those pink, pillowy lips you adored licking and sucking on were parted in shock.

You half-smiled, "Think you pissed a few of the wrong guys off."

"Jesus Christ, sweet girl. What happened? Tell me, please, before I start making assumptions," he demanded, reaching for your cheek - making you recoil hard enough that your head banged on the house supporting your exhausted body. "Hey, hey," he whispered, looking physically wounded by your action, "'s just me, baby, it's just me, it's Bee, I'm not gonna hurt you. C'mon, sweetheart, lemme help you."

You sniffled, letting him reach for you again and caress your cheek so he could direct your head left and right; giving him a full view of your injuries that continued to weep. He stiffened as he took note of a new cut or bruise upon every new sweep of his eyes, his anger skyrocketing with every passing moment.

"It hurts," you whimpered. "Apparently, you beat the shit outta those guys weeks ago - guess they were waiting for an opening to strike back."

"You don't deserve this," he growled angrily. "Fuck - look at you! Goddamnit, I'm so sorry, princess, this is my fault. All my fucking fault, shit," he hissed, looking close to tears, "I put you here, I'm so sorry, baby."

"Got Lawrence his ass beat, too," you pouted.

"Sorry about this, man," Billy instantly offered the other boy, who was practically slumped over in the grass. He still managed to give a thumbs up. "But, uh, thank you for stepping in. You know, not a whole lotta people would."

"Nah, it was the right thing to do," Law frowned, waving him off.

"You said Jake and Steven did this?"

"Mhm," Law nodded. "Jake Chastain and Steven Barton."

"Yeah, I know 'em," Billy shook his head, "and I'll fuckin' kill 'em - "

"Can we get cleaned up first? Before we go murdering high school jocks?" You pouted in pain.

"Hey, man. You got a friend here or something? Someone to help us?" Billy asked Lawrence, still caressing your face with his thumb sweeping the apple of your cheek.

"My sister's 'round, yeah..."

"Want me to grab her?" Billy offered awkwardly.

"I'd actually appreciate it," Law whispered. "Gotta get home, yeah?"

"Yeah, man. Stay here, I'll grab her," Billy agreed. "What's her name?"

"Natalie, she's a cheerleader. Um... Y-You dated her beginning of the year?"

"I remember," he sighed, standing to his feet. He told you earnestly, almost sweetly, "I'll be fast."

But the thing is, you knew Billy all too well by now. "Wait, no," you gasped, trying to stand, "Bee, don't!" It was too late, he was already gone by the time you and Lawrence stumbled out from hiding; just in time to watch Billy point Natalie towards where you and her brother were. Then, he turned and surged up to an unsuspecting Jake and Steven; launching an all-out brawl against the two.

Neither of them stood a chance when Billy was THIS angry. Nobody did. In fact, if Jason, Tommy H., and two other guys hadn't pulled him back, surely, there'd be a lot more than a couple of broken bones. However, when Billy told the other basketball players in a spit-flying rage that these two cowards had attacked his girlfriend (a few turning back to get a look at you), it launched a new, mutual anger. Chrissy and a few other cheerleaders wanted to step in when the "fight" (more like attack) started again, but when they saw you, Lawrence, and Natalie, nobody said a single word. Nobody interfered. Nobody interrupted, and luckily, nobody else joined in...

Before Jake and Steven could lose their lives or sustain serious injury that would result in any arrests, Billy was pulled back by Lawrence - of all people. "Hey, hey," the beaten boy barked, "hey, man, chill - chill! These guys deserve it, yeah, I fucking know, but look, hey!" He grabbed Billy's shoulders to prevent him from turning back for the fray. "Hey! Your girl needs you, man. She needs you more than these bozos. C'mon, you can't go to jail over this shit, right? Right? How mad you gonna be if you get bagged 'cause of these jackasses?"

This seemed to force Billy back to reality and out of his homicidal rage. A few dudes who played football stepped in to hoist the unconscious jocks over their shoulders just to leave them on the curb a couple houses down the street.

Billy raced back to you.

Chrissy and Natalie were helping wipe blood from your skin and hair; clothes damaged, ripped, stained, beyond repair, and another cheerleader was holding a bag of frozen peas to your head as you leaned on her stomach. He slid his jacket from his shoulders, easing you off the girl's belly to leave it around your trembling form and then taking the girl's spot, supporting your body as you were tended to.

Eventually, Chrissy sighed, "I think that's the best we're gonna get you, honey. You want us to come over in the mornings? Help you get dressed and do your make-up?"

"No offense, but I don't think that's necessary... It's not like what happened is a secret," Natalie whispered, looking you over.

"Make-up might irritate the injuries," the other girl offered softly. "But it might cover some of those bruises, I just would avoid the cuts."

"I'm okay, girls, but thank you," you assured softly. "Bee's here t'help."

"Yeah, taking you straight to the hospital," he decided stiffly from behind you.

"What?"

"Think I'm not gonna get you checked out after this? Two men attacked you, I gotta make sure ain't shit's seriously wrong, baby. Don't fight me on this, please."

Billy's mind was warped with memories of sitting in ER's and other clinics with his mother nursing a broken wrist or damaged eye socket. His father's anger had always been a temperamental switch, something Billy felt he always had to outdo. Being in the hospital with you felt too similar, another bolt of rage zinging through his blood; hating the idea that you were the victim, and like his mother, he wasn't able to protect you.

Unlike his mother, this situation was directly his fault. He didn't even remember why he beat the shit outta Steven and Jake all those weeks ago, but whatever the reason, it cost him now. Cost you both.

The party continued inside the house, but Billy walked around the side yard, down to the front, then towards the street full of parked cars with you secure in his arms. After getting you settled safely in the passenger seat of his Camaro, Billy rightened and shut the door; seeing Lawrence and Natalie approaching their own car, the bag of peas now held to his jaw and cheek.

His sister was under his arm, helping him hobble. Billy gulped, realizing Lawrence was beat to hell, too, and if he hadn't jumped in, Lord only knew what state you'd be in now. When the two men caught one another's eye, Billy offered a nod of respect and thanks; the other lad returning it as if to say he was welcome. Billy raced for the driver's door, sliding in, and without turning any music on, drove off towards the hospital.

You were grumpy to be there, but one look at you had the medical staff moving at a quickened pace to help you; offering speedy aid. You were cleaned and cared for; questions regarding the level of assault making you nervous, but you answered honestly that two classmates had jumped you at a party. This meant the police were called; tears in your eyes and down your cheeks when you had to tell Chief Hopper (a close family friend) exactly what happened.

Billy provided their assailant’s full names and promised they wouldn't be in the best shape when (slash if) the two were found.

After hearing your story and writing the names down from Billy, Hopper sighed in empathy, "Kid... Don't admit t'anything."

"I'm not, I'm just making a casual note," Billy countered. "You know, people don't take too kindly to people hittin' a woman. Less so when she's drunk, alone, and they fuckin' stomp on her - "

"All right," Hopper tried to halt his built up anger. "Let's just take a breath here - "

"Uh, Chief?" His deputy interrupted. "Them boys? Uh, a... Jake Chastain and Steven Barton? They were just wheeled in from an ambulance."

"Interesting," Hopper noted, sparing Billy a small look. "From where?"

"A neighbor called them in, said there's a party few houses from her on Hawthorne."

Jim Hopper sighed and turned to you and Billy with his hands on his hips. His face was passively angry. "Sound familiar?" He asked, tongue sweeping over his teeth.

"Yes," you answered for you both, "that's where it happened, Chief."

His eyes softened when he looked back at you. "All right," he nodded, looking to his partner. "Go stand by their room, keep an eye - I'll be there in a second, but the victims made a positive ID. Doc's will treat 'em and we'll book 'em." When left alone, Hopper took a suspicious look around the hospital floor before sliding the curtains shut around your bed; moving to your other side, removing his hat, and kneeling. "Listen, kid," he whispered, taking your hand softly, "I got a daughter at home, too, and if anyone - and I mean, anyone - laid a hand on her the way you were tonight, I'd burn this town to the fucking ground."

Billy snorted in amusement, "Know the feeling."

Hopper nodded, "So believe me when I say, I need to know, off the record, what really happened tonight. Your father will need to know that I am doing everything to help - but I need to know the truth."

"I don't know what to tell you, Hopper," you frowned, matching his quiet tone, "I've told you what I know. I was a few drinks in, stepped outside t'smoke, and that's when they grabbed me, took me t'the side yard, and started wailing on me. I dropped, they kept goin', that's when this other boy stepped in. He got beat up pretty good, too, but he helped get them away. Billy showed up, we came here - "

"I hit them," Billy interrupted, making you squeak lightly. Hopper just laid his other hand over yours so he cocooned it; glancing around the under skirts of the curtains to make sure you remained alone.

Then he asked, "When?"

"After I made sure Y/N was okay," Billy explained, petting a hand over the back of your head; never looking away from Hopper. "I found her friend's sister, made sure someone knew where they were, and then I hit them... And I didn't stop hitting them."

"Kid - "

"Some teammates pulled me off, don't worry - it could've been so much worse. But when the others found out what they did to my girl?" He hissed quietly, "They took matters into their own hands by themselves, sir. My girl was attacked, I couldn't let that just slide, Chief, I hope you understand."

Hopper sighed, "Well, I can't condone the violence, but since it was a group effort, be a helluva lot more paperwork bringing you in versus those two who started it."

Billy nodded absently, your free hand laying over Hopper's to stack. "Did you call my dad?" You asked nervously.

"Not yet," he frowned. "I gotta check on the suspects, but I can after."

"Could you not? For me, please?" You sniffled. "He'll just worry and would get all pissy 'cause his trip has to be cut - "

"He's not home?" Hopper asked in earnest confusion with knitted brows.

Your head shook, "Chicago for the week."

"He left eight days ago," Billy snipped.

"Bee," you reprimanded sharply.

"Hey," Hopper squeezed your hand, "it's okay, you're over 18, I don't have to call him. But El and I are gonna drop by later with dinners and to check on you, her little friend, too, probably. You know, the, uh... The little red head?"

"Max?" You asked.

"Yeah, her. Nice girl."

"She's Billy's step-sister," you snickered, wincing when your broken ribs protested.

"You should rest," Hopper bid, "and thank you for being honest," he stood to his feet while nodding at Billy. "Tell you what, I won't report you starting the fight - technically... It'll be reported as a randomized group effort after they were caught assaulting Y/N."

Billy nodded, too shocked for words as Hopper patted your hand, placed his hat on, and exited the little curtained room. "Wow," your boyfriend breathed. "Since when are you friends with the Chief of Police?"

"He and my dad go way back," you eased.

"All cops like him?"

"Fuck no, you know that." After a beat, you reached for his hand to lace your fingers with him, "Hey," you bid, "I-I'm really sorry."

"Baby, just - don't even start - "

"No, for earlier, for our fight," you interrupted, "and for feeling petty enough to go to the party alone when I know you don't like that... For drinking, not being more aware like you taught me. I didn't use the buddy-system when I went t'smoke, it was a major fuck-up, I know, but I'm just sorry. I feel like I've disappointed you or something - "

"No, hey, sweet girl," he rushed, sitting on the edge of the gurney to stare at you directly, "don't you ever feel that way - you didn't do nothing wrong. Hear me? You didn't put yourself in this position, you didn't deserve what happened, you didn't - no, just," he sighed deeply, "you didn't do any of this, sweetheart. Okay? If anything... If anything, this is my fucking fault and I'm the one who is so sorry."

Your head shook, but Billy continued,

"They did this to you because of me." Tears filled those sweet baby blues. "Because I don't have a hold of my temper - I fucked them up, so, they fucked you up. This is my fault, I'm so sorry. But look, hey, I'll fix this, okay? I swear to God - I'm gonna fix this."

"The cops got 'em, we don't have t'do anything else," you mumbled. "You don't have to do anything else, Billy."

"Maybe not, but I can't let this go - look at you," a single tear dripped. "Fucking look at you, my sweet girl. In the fucking hospital 'cause of me - I can't - this ain't right. I gotta make it right."

You couldn't answer because a technician was arriving to take you for a CT, MRI, and X-Ray - all of those scans that would tell them what was going on internally. Hopper was seen outside the two boy's rooms - Billy following your bed closely as you where wheeled away. Every scan or test he could remain close for, he was; stepping back when needed, but being sucked right back to your side when able.

By the end of the night, you were released into Billy's care because all patients with head injuries had to have some kind of chaperone, and a few floors up, Steven and Jake were being handcuffed to their hospital beds by Hopper.

"Real lucky I wasn't there when you hit her," Jim Hopper seethed quietly, tightening the cuff on Jake to an uncomfortable grip. "Your parents would need money for your funerals - not bail," he offered one single more glare before leaving the next shift of deputies on duty. He sped all the way home and held Eleven in a suffocating hug.

Turns out, you sustained decent injuries from that night.

A (cleanly) broken ankle. Six different broken ribs. Split lip that required two stitches. Stitched earlobes from where piercings were ripped out. Severely bruised collarbones, bordering on broken. One blackened eye. Along with other generic bruises and cuts, more seemingly discovered as the days drug by slowly.

Billy was ready to mow down anyone in his way at any point, but his only ability to get through the school day was that he saw you everyday afterward. He dropped whatever sport and / or club that held his interest, collecting coursework you missed, then driving Max and "Jane" Hopper to your place. He would've lashed out if this was any other situation, but because you asked him to behave and bring you the materials you needed, he did. He played nice.

The two assailants, Steven and Jake, had been arrested by Jim Hopper. They apparently had a rough ride to the station, but that wasn't here or there. What they did to you was far worse that nobody batted a single lash when the two were brought in the station for booking, looking freshly beat up and bloodied. A judge also rejected their bail.

Billy brought you whatever work you missed during your recovery at home, most teachers shocked to see him so diligent in showing up and making the collections. He didn't understand whatever the teachers told him about the work, but you did - and it was fascinating to him, watching you work or study. He usually sat by your window to smoke, but on the occasion, you asked for a toke and wouldn't care about where the smoke blew. So, as weeks passed, he stopped specifically going over to your window; just leaving it open for ventilation so he could remain at your side.

Anything you needed, he got. He did. He gave you. Guilt was one helluva motivator and Billy was chalked-full; so, he did the only thing he knew he could, being acts of service.

You were laid up, it made sense. He could bring you into the shower, get naked himself and help you bathe. He could carry you downstairs, cook for you, help out around the house by keeping it clean because he knew it stressed you out. He would collect the mail, water plants, do dishes, just turned into a househusband that made your stomach and cheeks feel all warm and fuzzy. Never did you think Billy had the ability to be domestic, but here he was, in your great-grandmother's kitchen, wearing a stained apron while trying to bake cookies while you worked on a physics project.

"Hey, Bee?"

"What's wrong?" He asked instantly, setting the hot tray to the stove.

"No, hey, calm down," you smiled with a small laugh. "I was just wondering... You know, like... What's gotten into you?"

"Huh?"

"You know what I mean," you huffed, setting your pencil down. "You literally haven't let me out of your sight except when you're at school."

He shrugged, "You need help."

"You don't ask if I do."

"I don't need to ask when I can just see it."

"Billy."

He sighed and begrudgingly scraped cookies off the hot tray to rest on the cooling sheets. "Your dad asked me to stay close," he offered.

"Bullshit."

"No, really," Billy insisted. "He's in and out with work, so, he asked me to stick around, just in case."

"Okay, fine, but it's more than that. Billy, tell me the truth, baby, please. It's not a bad thing, I'm just curious what's really going on."

"I'm just... I'm just nervous, you know?"

Your head cocked, "Why's that?"

"Look what happened to you," he chuckled ruefully. "All fucked up, can't even go t'school until your ribs are healed - all 'cause of me. 'Cause I fucked up and went too far - "

"William," you snapped, making his wide, shocked eyes meet yours. "I'm not gonna listen to this anymore. Okay? I know you're sorry, you tell me everyday, andI know you're feeling guilty, but this isn't your fault, you're not the one who put hands on me - "

You flinched when he lobbed the cookie tray into the sink, causing a ruckus, his voice yelling over the noise, "FOR FUCK'S SAKE!"

"William!"

"I'm trying to protect you!" He yelled, tears swelling when he whipped around to face you. "I-I don't know what else to do! Look, okay, say what you fucking want, but the truth is, those two assholes came at you 'cause of me. Okay? 'Cause I had to be myself and beat the shit outta them 3 months ago, they never forgave - they didn't forget. I put you in this situation, that now? Now, yeah!" He laughed without humor. "Yeah! I'm fucking nervous leaving you alone! Fuck knows what could happen to you, and who's to say there aren't more people out there just waiting for this kinda opportunity! Baby!" He rushed for you at the kitchen table, your mouth sewn shut in shock as he found his knees in front of you and took both your hands in his. "Baby, listen to me. You're the only thing - no, I'm serious!" He insisted when you looked ready to protest this sentiment you've heard before. "You're the only thing I fucking care about, that I want to protect, and they all know it - I don't exactly hide it. I love you so fucking much, they'd do this again - they'd fucking hurt you to get to me and that idea just..." He sighed, looking lost.

You pulled a hand free to instantly caress his cheek, turning his attention upward until his eyes met yours. "Billy," you whispered, "baby, nobody's after us. This was just a freak accident, this was a fluke, okay? You're worried anyone else is gonna come at me, at us, but I know nobody else is that fucking stupid. They wouldn't test you, and Jake and Steven took advantage of an already bad situation. Okay? We had a fight - which was pretty public. So, people knew we were at odds, and when I showed up at that party alone, started drinking, it was their perfect opportunity to strike."

"You can't say that, we don't know if anyone else is gonna test us," he sniffled. "I've made a lot of mistakes... Pissed a lot of people off. One of them might've grown a pair."

"Okay," you relented, "then I guess we're gonna have to stick together, you know... So you can keep me safe, right?"

He chuckled dryly, "I'm trying, princess."

"Well, we can work out a better way - one that doesn't run you into the fucking ground, Billy, Jesus," you searched his face. "Are you sleeping? At all?"

"'Course I am - "

"Don't lie to me."

He sighed, deflating a little, "I sleep... Only when I stay here."

"Billy, you stay only a couple nights a week when Daddy's home."

"I know."

"So, you basically only sleep when Daddy's out of town and you stay here?" You squeaked, watching him nod; pouting and feeling your own guilt brew. "Baby... Look, can we just agree that this isn't either of our faults? Right? Yeah? If I'm not allowed to think this was my fault, you aren't either."

"I was the one they wanted t'hurt," he shook his head. "They did this 'cause of me, sweetheart, how can you be so - so - fuck! So fucking understanding a-and forgiving?"

"Because I love you," you answered like it was common knowledge, even giving a small giggle.

"That doesn't... But that doesn't even - "

"What? Mean anything? Bee, it means everything," you smiled at him. "I love you, so, when you make mistakes, I forgive you - even though there's nothing you've done. I mean," you winced slightly, "sure, maybe we could reduce the kids you bully or beat up, you know, limit the enemies we might make. And this is something that can be redeemed, can't it?"

He stared at you from the floor, slowly deflating, "Can it? I've fucked up so much, doll, I don't think I deserve whatever forgiveness you wanna give me."

"You can't keep beating yourself up," you snipped. "Hey? Hear me? Look, it happened - it fucking sucked, but it happened and it's fucking over. We both need one another to help move on, okay? So, I need you back, Bee, I need my man back because we need to get through this together. You don't get to sulk in your guilt, I don't get to stew in my regret, we need to help each other out of this."

Billy sniffled, "How? How do we move on when you've still got stitches in your lip?"

"They'll dissolve in a few days," you shrugged meekly. "We move on together, okay? Maybe you pick up basketball again, try to distract yourself. Billy, we need some normalcy again, right? You know?"

"Doll, being away from you makes me feel like my lungs are gonna pop," he shook his head. "I'm afraid something might happen if I'm not there, it's fucking scary after finding you in your own blood."

"Then I'll be at every practice," you eased. "You can drive me to and from school, then you know where I am - you'll know I'm safe."

Billy stared at you a moment, fully dropping to the floor as his energy finally drained. He ran a hand through his hair, rustling the curls, admitting in a soft voice, "I don't know how to do this. I don't know how to not feel so guilty, how to move forward."

"There's no playbook," you agreed. "Guess it means we gotta figure it out ourselves, but again, we do it together. C'mere," you sighed, lowering yourself to the floor with your booted ankle held out.

"No, don't - "

"Fuck off, I'm not totally unable to do shit," you grunted, adjusting yourself and reaching for him. "Come here, please, I wanna hold you! Been cuddling me this whole time, lemme be the big spoon, please."

"Just told me to fuck off, sweetheart, kinda sending some mixed signals, aren't'cha?" He chuckled, turning so his back was to your chest; leaning so you supported him in his slump. "I'm so sorry, sweetheart," he muttered, holding the arm around his collarbones. "I really - if I knew this was gonna happen, I'd never of fought them."

"I know, and I forgive you," you whispered in his ear. "But we can't keep doing this back and forth, okay? I forgive you, Billy, no more apologies."

He sighed, "Yeah... All right..."

"Steven and Jake are arrested, we won't have t'see them again. Hopper will make sure of that," you smirked against the shell of his ear. "And the doctors said I should be good to return to school next week, but I'm out of cheer and everything."

He groaned, "Just something else I've fucked up for you."

"Oh, please, I love the time off," you teased. "Gives me all the time I need to watch my man on the court, huh?" He half-chuckled at your words. "You know I'm ahead in all my classes now, too? Teaching myself at home is far superior than the teacher's bitching at us for eight hours."

"You're gonna love college, baby," he chuckled, the two of you lulling into a comfortable silence. You held him tightly, nuzzled into his neck; both sitting in your emotions, trying to navigate a way out.

"We good?" You whispered.

"We're good," Billy agreed, just as soft. "No more apologies... Try to have less guilt. But you're gonna let me stay close, right?"

"I want you clinging to me so hard, I can't fucking breathe," you smirked. "And if Daddy really asked you to stick around, then you're welcome to stay here longer, even if he's here... Where I can have you close to me," you whispered, licking the skin under his ear. He stiffened.

"No - you better not," he squirmed when you licked again, adding a little teeth in a scrape.

"Billy," you pouted. "It's been weeks!"

"You're still hurt," he argued, turning on the floor to look at you. "I'm not gonna be responsible for breaking another of your ribs 'cause we were horny."

"I'm doing so much better, though!"

"Tell you what," he smirked. "Next business trip of your dad's, I'll fuck you all weekend - wherever you want, however you want."

"He has one in two weeks."

"Mhm, and you have a check up before he leaves."

You eyed him for a moment, "When did you become responsible?"

"I've always been."

"No, this is new. You're remembering dates and my doctor appointments and my dad's work schedule."

"Maybe I just like taking care of you," he whispered against your lips with a growing smirk. After pecking you lips, he quipped, "So, shut up and let me."

"Yes, sir."

requesting rules and masterlist

Stranger Things masterlist

[darnell-la]

please give me nasty ass hate sex with Logan in the xmansion turns out he’s a dick but one with feelings for you and you matched his energy and he got pissy and upset then confessed after hate sex xx

note: aggressive Logan might be the best Logan.

———

“Knew I should’ve rode with Scott,” y/n said as she leaned back in Logan’s passenger side seat to look out of the window. Logan’s known for driving for a good five minutes before saying something he knew she didn’t want to hear.

“I’m just askin’ why the fuck you’re so hooked on that man. Ain’t he with Jean?” Logan asked, making y/n scoff. “Yes, Logan — That’s why we’re not dating! We barely talk, only as friends. Jesus!”

“Don’t seem like friends when you’re giggling and grabbing the man,” Logan shrugged his shoulders as he kept his eyes on the dark long road. “We’re just friends, and Jean is around us all the time,”

“Aren’t you the one who tried getting at her while she was with Scott!? And you’re fuckin’ talkin' about me — the ignorance,” y/n rolled her eyes as the man’s grip on his steering wheel tightened.

“That was long before you got here. Over her now,” Logan said, making y/n laugh. “Yeah, or maybe you’re shitty because a woman finally didn’t want you over a sweeter guy,” y/n pouted in his face for a few seconds before leaning back into her seat again.

“I get what I want, alright? There was just no need to try with her. Too much work,” Logan said. God, y/n hated him. He hated Scott more for making her ride with Logan to get some talk time in.

“Yeah, of course it was. Bet I could get her before you,” y/n said, only wanting to make the man mad, and it did. “You already slut for Scott, so how about you get him,” his tone was stern.

“I don’t slut for him! Like, are you jealous or some shit? Let’s be for real, because you always have something to say about the man and me. Everyday day!”

“Jealous!? Yeah, you fuckin’ wish I was jealous of someone like Scott. Anything he has, I can get,” Logan scoffed, really thinking he could. “Where is Jean then?” Y/n asked as she turned towards him, with a fake confused face.

“Where the fuck is she then? Because she ain’t here,” y/n said. “Can you just shut the fuck up,” Logan said low, keeping his eyes on the road to avoid eye contact with the young lady.

“No, I wanna know where the anything he has, I can get, is at,” y/n continued, making the man’s blood from her smart mouth. “Where Logan!?” Y/n yelled at him.

“Shut the fuck up!” Logan took his eyes off of the road and leaned towards y/n speaking through his teeth and tone sounding like a growl. Y/n shrugged her shoulders with a roll in her eyes before sitting back in the passenger seat.

“That’s fuckin’ it,” Logan slammed on the brakes before putting the car in part. The angry man exited his vehicle, slammed the door behind him, and walked around the back to get to y/n.

Y/n was confused, not thinking he would leave her out there, so she just assumed he got out to cool down. Y/n laughed low, thinking she finally got the man before her door swung open.

“Get the fuck out,” Logan cussed as he grabbed y/n by her forearm. “Hey, get the fuck off of me!” Y/n shouted as she tried pulling back, but the man was strong, leaving her door open and dragging her around to the front of his car.

Logan slammed y/n’s upper body on top of the hood, making her cry out from the short pain. The way he handled her was rough, but she wanted to act rough, right? So she’ll get it.

“Get the fuck off of me, you dumb bitch!” Y/n called the man out of her name, making him grab the back of her neck to pull her up then slam her back into the hood.

“Keep runnin’ that fuckin’ mouth, and ima ruin it,” Logan threatens the girl, making her keep quiet but she kept fighting, wiggling and kicking under him.

“That’s what I thought. Keep quiet, bitch. Always runnin’ that fuckin’ mouth like you don’t got a hole to fill,” Logan had his cock pulled over his jeans and belt. Now he’s tugging at her x men suit he refuses to wear.

“L-Logan-“ y/‘ tried saying, but he did the same as last time, slamming her onto his hood. “You tell me what to do one time, and ima hurt you, and ion think a pretty girl like you wants that, don’t you?” Logan had brought his claws out next to her face to intimidate her, and it worked.

She wasn’t scared of the man. Not one bit. She just knew how angry he could get, and that he was too strong to not get what he was shooting for her.

“Telling me I don’t get what Scott gets. You think you’re fuckin’ hard to get? Huh!? You think your little whore ass is hard to stuff and impress?”

“Oh, Bub, you gotta be dumb as fuck if you think you ain’t. All I gotta do is stuff this pretty little thing, then treat you right. Give you money, gifts, and massages,” Logan leaned down towards the girl's heart as he dragged his fingers across her now exposed pussy.

“Bet you want that, don’t you, baby? I don’t mind. Don’t mind keepin’ you to myself so I don’t have to see that bastard hands all over you again,”

Logan pushed to fingers into the girl, curling instantly to get a reaction out of her, and he did. A good one that he’s dreamt of hearing.

“Knew you wanted me. Just look at how much you’re clenching my fingers,” Logan teased as y/n shifted on the hood of his car, trying her best to keep in her moans or show how good this felt, but she failed.

“It’s okay, baby — Don’t gotta feel embarrassed. Been smellin’ this pussy for months when you’re around me. Wet as a fuckin’ waterpark. So fuckin’ wet,” Logan groaned at the smell he’d been secretly sniffing at for forever.

“P-Please, stop that,” y/n begged, feeling him curl in the best places he could ever curl in. He knew where she needed it, which made this whole situation seem more hot to her.

“Why? Gonna cum? Thought you hated me. Now you’re gonna leak on my fingers. So fuckin’ pathetic,” Logan growled in the girl's ear, pressing his body on her to give her a better feeling.

“Cum for me, y/n — Cum so I can stuff you with my cock. Been hard ever since your sexy ass stepped in my car. Always smellin’ so fuckin’ good,” Logan sniffed the girl's neck, making her whine at the thought of Logan being that obsessed with her.

Y/n couldn’t hold anything back anymore. She came around his fingers with a loud and broken moan, hearing his own grunting in her ear. He was getting off on making her feel good.

“Ah huh — My good girl soakin’ my fingers for me. So fuckin’ good for me,” Logan pulled his fingers out of her and then sucked on them, licking every inch with an eye roll. She tasted amazing.

“For a bitch, you do taste good,” Logan said, calling her out of her name to get a reaction, and he did. Y/n lifted her body to turn around and swing, but he quickly slammed her back on his car with a chuckle.

“You worm stronger than me, baby girl. Gonna have to take my mouth for a few more minutes,” she could hear the smirk on his face, and she hated it. She hated him, but god were his fingers magical.

Before y/n could think of anything to say or do, Logan squeezed his cock in her hole, pushing and stretching her until she couldn’t take it anymore.

“What’s up, baby? To much? Too much cock to talk back to me?” Logan asked as her cries cracked. She felt pressure in her stomach. He was huge, and he knew that. He’s always wanted to watch her take him.

“C’mon, baby, talk back. Call me a bitch. Say I can’t get a woman to save my life. Say I can’t get you. Tell me you’re not easy, and I’ll pull out of this leaky cunt,” Logan said, knowing she wouldn’t and couldn’t say anything.

“That’s what I fuckin’ thought. Keep that fuckin’ mouth shut from now on, or I’ll tear you just like this in front of the crew,” Logan told no lie. He was an animal, and marking what was his was what he was best at.

“Yeah, I know, baby. So fuckin’ big. Gonna give you this every day. Train you to take my cock, and my cock only. I’ll know when you’ve been a whore. I’ll know if you let Scott touch you,”

“And let me tell you if he does. If he does, y/n, I swear to god, I’ll fuck the mutant outta you. I’ll make you a brain-dead human. Make you so fuckin’ dumb on my cock, he won’t even want you anymore. Only I will,”

Logan tugged y/n’s hair, making her back arch and her ear meet his mouth. “Gonna breed this lil girl, then take you back to my room. You’re around me twenty-four seven, now. You ride with me, and me only. I catch this pretty ass on Scott’s motorcycle, and I’ll fuckin’ claw it off,”

Logan couldn’t stop threatening y/n. He wanted her to know she belonged to him, and no one else. After he stuck his cock in, he was going to make her know that. This was finally a time to mark her.

“Mhm hm — So good. So so good,” Logan whispered in the brisk ear as his cock twitched. Y/n whined, knowing he was close. Before she could tell him to pull out, he began filling her up.

Y/n cried low, scared of what he just did, but at the same time, he seemed like he was going to do anything to make her keep it. The way he talked to her and handled her like she’s been his forever, made the situation feel better.

“Fuck,” Logan breathed out as he let y/n’s hair go and leaned on her back, cum still spilling in her as her walls clenched around him.

“Fuck,” Logan said, this time in a different done. In a more what did I do tone. “Fuck, y/n,” Logan pulled out of the girl and fixed himself up quickly, feeling his heartbeat raise.

“Y/n, we gotta- I- Fuck, I don’t know what I just did,” he admitted. “Shit,” Logan pulled y/n off of his car hood slowly before turning her around to rest and a more comfortable way.

“You still here, baby?” Logan asked, hands rubbing her cheek to comfort her. “Mhm hm,” she mummed, making him smile slightly. “Good. Thought I lost you for a second,” he chuckle.

“Wanna go back to my room to rest? Kinda had a long, uh, long ride?” He said. “Wanna go to my room. Scott was supposed to meet me-“ Y/n cut herself off with a laugh, watching his face drop.

“That shit ain’t funny,” Logan said as she kept laughing. “You ain’t goin’ back to your room. As a matter of fact, I’m moving your shit to mine,” Logan pulled y/n off of the car and guided her back to the passenger seat.

“I was just playing, Logan. When I say me and him are friends, I mean it,” y/n assured the man. “Don’t care,” Logan shut the door in her face before going back to his driver's seat.

“Logan,” y/n said as he got in the car silently. The man ignored her and started the car, upset Scott’s name was brought up in any way. He hated that. He only wanted his name to roll off of her tongue.

“Logan,” y/n leaned over to him to rest her head on his shoulder. “Don’t think that’s gonna work, Bub,” Logan said, face on the road with no emotion.

“Mhmkay,” the girl lifted her head up to lean back in her seat, but Logan stopped her with his right hand and pulled her back. “Ian says you can move though,” he said, making her laugh.

Logan chuckled before placing a kiss on her forehead, not knowing how he got here, but he knew it was right. He knew this little thing he’d been having towards her was just some middle school love.