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#A Knife's Edge
onejellyfishplease · 7 months
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...what if he kept the snoot?
@littlesilentrebel this is your fault
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justmoreocs-writing · 16 days
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The cafeteria was a mess of noise, so much sound never really felt possible and yet it always seemed to surprise Mia no matter how many times she dared step foot in the place. But Belle had needed food, and a sly smirk had lit Robin’s face that was impossible to ignore.
‘King of the freaks,’ came a cheerful jeering voice, and instantly Mia’s attention shifted to Belle. A small smile was growing on her face, something almost shy about it.
‘Yeah, some things never change,’ Robin said, and Mia glanced towards Eddie. Despite the chaos of the canteen, his gaze lingered momentarily on Belle as he lowered his hands from his head.
‘I think Tink knows that,’ Mia teased softly, glancing back to Belle. A slight flush had flooded her cheeks as she looked to Mia.
‘Cafeterias are the same everywhere,’ she noted dismissively. ‘Please tell me the food improved though.’
Robin chuckled, slung an arm over her best friend’s shoulders. ‘Of course it didn’t,’ she said, gently guiding Belle towards the line. ‘But I don’t think we’ll get scurvy.’
Mia scoffed, glanced briefly back to Eddie. Perhaps Robin’s decision for the detour rather than sneaking off campus for food wasn’t such a bad thing.
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justmoreocs-edits · 26 days
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Random Dialogue Prompts: A Knife's Edge (Stranger Things)
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zepskies · 29 days
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Take Me Home - Part 7
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Pairing: Beau Arlen x F. Reader 
Summary: You are another lost soul at Sunny Day Excursions. You’re aiming to settle in Helena, Montana, where Beau Arlen is the new sheriff in town. But you’ve both got a past you’re running from. 
AN: For everyone who has Easter plans tomorrow (Happy Easter!), I decided to release this part a bit early. And yes, we’re at that part of the season 3 plotline…
Word Count: 6.6K
Tags/Warnings: Major angst, survival situations, violence, hurt/comfort.
❤️ Series Masterlist
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Part 7: On the Edge of a Knife
Beau returned home that night with a large pizza for Carla and Emily. He’d already eaten with you an hour ago, but true to his legendary appetite, he still found room for a slice of pepperoni. They got comfortable around the fire out in front of his trailer.
“What held you up?” Carla asked.
Beau sighed and first wiped a bit of sauce from his face with a napkin. He admitted there was an altercation between you and your ex-boyfriend, Michael Hadley. Beau happened to be there in time to settle things down and help patch you up after you fell through a glass coffee table.
“Oh my God. Is she okay?” Emily asked. Beau noted her concern with a smile.
“She’s fine. Some minor cuts and bruises,” he said. “But I had to encourage the guy to leave town. If he’s got any sense, he’ll get gone.”
Emily looked relieved at that. Then she eyed him with a suspicious smile.
“And you just happened to be in the neighborhood?” she asked slyly, voicing the thought that Carla hadn’t wanted to.
Both women watched him closely, but Carla knew the tell-tale signs of Beau covering his embarrassment, giving his daughter a wry look.
“All right, smart Alec. Why don’t you break out the extra sheets I got in the trailer? We’ll set up the bed and the couch.”
“If you can call that glorified bench a couch,” Emily muttered with a grin. 
“Ey!” Beau called after her, though he watched her go in amusement.
After a couple more hours of chatting and catching up, showers taken and plates washed, Emily headed for bed. The adults stayed up for a while, bundled in warm coats as they sat together by the fire.
Beau remembered what Emily told him days ago; that he hadn’t needed to be a perfect man for his wife and daughter. They’d just needed him to be a bit more honest about what he was going through, to let them in. After what happened today with you, your patience and understanding with him…he was beginning to get what she meant.
“I’m really thankful for you helping us,” Carla said. It unearthed him out of his own head.
“Yeah,” he replied with a nod.
Admittedly, he was still a bit distracted. Besides how he left things with you (which still made heat crawl up the back of his neck), he still had Avery and that stolen money to worry about. Otherwise known as the reason Carla and Emily would have to cram themselves in his little trailer.
“Hey, what’s going on?” Carla prodded, laying a gentle hand on his arm.
“I just got a bad feeling about all this,” he confessed. “It’s like in Houston with Randy.”
“No,” she shook her head. “You can’t go there.”
“It’s too late,” he replied. “‘Cause it feels the same. Like something’s…something is comin’, and I’m powerless to stop it.”
“Randy’s death was not your fault,” she reminded him. Just like you had.
Beau looked over at her with a humorless quirk of his lips.
“We both know that’s not true. He was my partner and I let him down. And then…then I wasn’t there for you, or Emily. I don’t blame you for leaving me.”
Carla couldn’t help it, but a part deep inside her had been regretting that choice. Her eyes burned with unshed tears. She managed to blink and keep them at bay, though she let out a shaky breath.
“Well, you’re here for us now,” she said. And yet, she could’ve predicted his next words like clockwork.
“It don’t make up for the way I checked out,” he said.
Carla licked her dry lips and swallowed down the emotion clogging her throat. She didn’t cry often. She could have an ironclad grip on her emotions when she needed to.
It was part of what made her a good lawyer. She knew Beau had sometimes gotten frustrated with that aspect of her personality in the past, because he was the opposite.
The man kept a good lid on things for his job, but at heart, he was driven by his passion, his anger, his love, and right now, his bone-deep guilt and shame.
She knew he’d been drowning in it for a year and hadn’t known how to pull him out. Every time he pushed her away, it had hurt her, hardened her, making her will to try again less and less. So she left him. 
It was the choice she made, and she knew she had to live with it. Just like marrying Avery.
Carla laid a hand on Beau’s over his knee. She made sure he looked her in the eyes when she said this.
“I forgive you. For all of that, okay?” she said. After a moment, he nodded. This time, she felt like he actually heard her.
“But I’m telling you, this thing with Avery…this isn’t over by a long shot,” he told her. “I’m not saying that to scare you. You understand that?”
“Yeah,” she nodded, even though those tears from earlier were working their way down her face. She wiped them away hastily.
“I’m not gonna let anything happen to you two,” Beau said, in a firm, reassuring tone.
It worked, and it didn’t. Carla nodded again. “I know.”
He sighed through his nose and squeezed her hand. His gaze shifted away, back to the bonfire dancing in front of them. His eyes stung at both the smoke, and the emotion rising in his chest. He steeled himself.
“Carla, I’ll always love you…”
She smiled slightly, brushing the remaining tears from her cheek.
“Though I sense a but coming,” she said.
When she said your name in question, Beau glanced back over at her and nodded. Carla had been his first real love, besides Daisy Harlow in the eleventh grade.
But you were unexpected. How quickly, how deeply you’d gotten under his skin was too hard to ignore. And at this point, he didn’t want to.
Meanwhile, Carla stared at her ex-husband in bemusement. She slipped her hand from his and folded hers back in her lap.
“What’s she like?” she asked. Half of her was genuinely curious. The other half would rather not hear his answer, but she supposed it was only fair. She was the one who moved on first.
Still, the flicker of Beau’s soft smile stung, just a little.
“She’s special,” he said. “Resilient, like you. And smart to boot. You know she’s a college professor?”
“Yeah, Emily told me,” Carla said. 
Beau’s smile dimmed when he noted the resignation in her voice. She gave him a knowing look. 
“I have no right to complain,” she said. “And you deserve to be happy too, Beau.”    
He considered that with a nod. He wasn’t sure if he believed her, but for your sake…he would try.
“Can you promise me something?” Carla asked. 
“Name it,” he said.
“I know Avery is in this thing deep. He lied to me and he created this mess. Even when this is over, I don’t know what’s going to happen between us. I know I’m asking a lot of you, but please, look out for him,” she implored. Beau uttered a wry chuckle and rubbed at his chin.
“He is in this deep. And he’s being stubborn about it,” he said. “I might not be able to help him walk it back, but I will try.”  
Carla released another sigh and nodded in response. She supposed that was the best she could hope for. 
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A few days later, you walked up and down the grocery store aisles with a basket in one hand and your phone against your ear with the other.
“Okay, I’ve got all manners of junk food and chick-flick movie watching snacks, including Reese’s cups, ice cream, frozen pizzas, and no less than three bottles of wine,” you said. “Am I missing anything?”
“I don’t think so, hun. That sounds very comprehensive,” Denise replied.
She was at work, and you were still getting ready for the fall semester. It was only a little over a month away, which meant you were excited, and also nervous.
You had five classes on your roster. You’d also visited Carroll College yesterday to set up your office with all your books, both textbooks and your favorites in fiction and non-fiction (but mostly fiction). Much Ado About Nothing was front and center in the Shakespeare section of your shelf.
You also wanted to at least try and relax for the rest of your summer. Denise was all too willing to help. You’d always had a good relationship with your aunt, albeit distant, since you’d lived in different states.
Living so close now just made you realize how much you two had in common. It was nice to find a friend in her, not just someone who would try to mother you in your own mother’s absence. 
“Yes! Good. Then get ready to brainstorm what movies we’re gonna watch tonight, and in what order,” you said.
“Oh, don’t pretend like you don’t already have a color-coded checklist,” Denise quipped.
You laughed. Yes, she knew you too well. “Okay, maybe I do, but you still get a vote.”
You turned a corner in the aisles and nearly ran right into Carla, who was pushing a cart. You both jolted in surprise and recognition.
“Oh, hi! I’m sorry,” you said, at the same time she said, “Sorry, I…”
You two did the polite, nervous laughter people did when put in awkward situations. You noticed all the food she had in her cart—enough to feed a family of three for the week.
“Yeah, finally getting around to doing a grocery run,” she said. “Beau’s trailer leaves much to be desired in the form of amenities, so…”
You adopted a more amused smile. “Yeah, he’s not much of a cook, is he?”
“Do frozen fish sticks count?” Carla remarked.
“Only if there’s expired tartar sauce, according to Emily,” you joked. The two of you shared a laugh that was a little more genuine. You chatted for a couple minutes more before you parted with amiable handwaving. Then you realized that your aunt was still hanging on the line.
You sighed and put your phone back up to your ear. “Hey, sorry.”
“Was that who I think it was?” Denise asked. She was probably trying to be cryptic, if Emily was in the room with her.
“Indeed, it was. Doing a nice family-sized grocery run,” you whispered back, to make sure you weren’t overheard. You brought your basket of junk to one of the checkout lines.
“When was the last time you heard from him?” Denise asked. She must’ve heard the heaviness in your voice. You both knew exactly who “him” was code for. Beau friggin’ Arlen.
“Not since we said goodbye last week,” you replied. And the memory of that kiss had been torturing you for days. It had also been the fuel of many…late nights with yourself.
Speaking of which, need some more AA batteries, you thought with a warm blush.
“Okay, forget candy. We should get cheesecake,” Denise proposed.
You smiled. “You know what, that’s a damn good idea. Definitely cheesecake.”
You hopped out of line to do just that. You knew it probably wouldn’t be as good as Chicago made, but you went over to the bakery side of the store and hunted for the most good-looking cheesecake you could find.
“Hey, if you want, stop by here later,” your aunt said. “Em is here. We’ll grab lunch, make it a real girls’ day.”
“Sure,” you agreed. You hadn’t seen Emily in a week or so either. “Where are you thinking? I’ve been wanting to try that Indian place down the street from your office.”
“Sounds good to me. Come over after you drop those groceries off at home.”
“Okay, will do. I’ll see you guys soon!” you said. 
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Beau knew that he was going to be working straight through lunch. What he, Jenny, and Cassie had discovered in the past 24 hours was deeply unsettling. 
Not only was Walter Sunny Barnes’s son, but Paige was alive. She’d been found in the foyer of Sunny’s home, brandishing a knife, convinced the married couple were in it together on her kidnapping. Sunny claimed she’d had no idea her husband had taken the poor girl and kept her in a shack for days.
According to Paige’s testimony, Buck Barnes had tried to kill her. And since she was alive, it meant Walter had lied in confessing to her murder. It was also likely that he hadn’t killed Mary or Luke either.
That wasn’t even the worst of Beau’s headache.
He rubbed his face in frustration after getting off the phone with Carla. Thanks to this whole business of Avery’s stolen cryptocurrency, she was being followed. 
Fuckin’ hell, Beau thought. The next time he saw Avery, it had better be with handcuffs, or he was going to start working on his punch list for real. Instead, Beau grabbed his cell and called his daughter.
“Hey, Dad,” she answered on the third ring.
“Hey, honey. You doin’ all right? You good?” he asked. Maybe he was coming on a little strong, but worry was a living thing inside his gut.
“Yeah, totally. Just doing some research…but guess who’s coming to have lunch with us later?” she asked.
Her tone was leading him somewhere, and Beau thought he knew the destination. His lips curved with a half-smile. When he guessed your name, Emily confirmed.
“You’re welcome to join us. If, you know, you wanted to,” she teased.
Beau’s smile twisted with disbelief. Was his daughter trying to set him up? And better yet, it seemed like she liked you well enough to do it. While the thought warmed him, his smile dimmed.
“Wish I could, but uh, I got a lot of work here to do. I’m just…checking up on ya, like dads do,” he said.
As much as he wanted to see you (and he really, really did), he wasn’t lying. He needed to follow up on the man who’d trailed Carla to the drycleaners this morning. And he already had Jenny and Poppernak looking into finding Buck Barnes. He’d fled the scene after Paige and Sunny were picked up at the Barnes residence.
“Well, okay, consider me checked. We can talk later if you want,” Emily said. She sounded a bit disappointed. Beau felt guilty for that, but he’d make it up to her tonight. Maybe he’d bring home some takeout so Carla didn’t have to cook again in his tiny kitchenette.
“All right, honey. If not, I’ll see you tonight,” he said. “Just…don’t go anywhere by yourself, okay? Make sure Denise or Cassie’s with you. Matter of fact, I’ll pick you up from there today.”
“Yeah sure,” she said. Though he didn’t think she really heard the warning in his voice.
“‘Kay. Bye, Dad.”
She hung up, leaving Beau still feeling off-balanced. Until news came in from a fellow officer: while Paige had been brought to the hospital, Sunny Barnes had been brought into the station for questioning about her husband.
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“Sorry I’m so late. I started cleaning my apartment and lost track of time,” you said, walking into the office of Dewell & Hoyt. Denise and Emily waved at you from their respective desks.
“That’s okay. We’ve been busy here,” Denise said. You looked at the large pinboard on the wall filled with news clippings and pieces of evidence. Bleeding Heart Killer, read many of the subject lines.
“Ech. Still working on this?” you asked.
“Unfortunately,” said Denise. She grabbed up her purse and went over to kiss your cheek in greeting. “But we might’ve gotten a huge break on it. I’ll tell you all about it when I get back.”
“Get back? Where’re you going?” you asked.
“To get the food! I already placed the orders,” she said, patting your arm. “I’ll be right back.”
You gave her a narrowed look. “I was going to pay for it—”
“No need!” Denise sing-songed on her way out of the office. It had you smiling, shaking your head. You looked over at Emily and tossed a thumb over your shoulder.
“Careful with her. She can be devious,” you said.
Emily smiled and stood up from her desk. She went over to sit with you on the small couch near the center of the room.
“I’m actually glad you’re here,” she said. “I’ve kinda got a question for you.”
“Kinda?” you echoed with a smile, but you pat her on the knee. “What’s on your mind, honey?”
Emily looked a little unsure. It had you giving her your undivided attention.
“It’s about my dad,” she began. Your smile slowly fell, but now you were really listening.
“Okay,” you nodded.
Emily opened her mouth to reply, but before she could, the lights in the entire office went out.
Natural light still came in from the large windows at the front. It was odd though. The weather outside, while chilly, wasn’t cold enough to create an outage. You hadn’t heard anything fizzle when the lights went out either.
“That’s weird—” Emily said.
The back door burst open with the sound of hinges breaking. Both of you gasped and stood from the couch. You slipped a hand into your purse to find your phone, and then the first contact you could think of.
You were about to press the call button when a tall man with broad shoulders stepped through. He was older, balding, and his clothes and neck were stained with blood.
Buck Barnes.
“Buck?” you gasped. “What…what’re you doing here?”
He didn’t look like the easy going, kind-hearted man you knew at the camp. Now, he looked haggard, injured, and dangerous, like a wild animal.
“Hush up,” Buck held up a silver pistol in his right hand. “And drop that phone, nice and slow.”
Your heart was in your throat, but you couldn’t just think of yourself. You subtly tried to pull Emily behind you as you set your phone down on the ground.
“You tried to kill Paige,” Emily accused of the man. It had you turning to her, your eyes going wide. When you looked over at Buck to gauge his reaction, you saw how his lips pursed.
“Sit down and shut up,” Buck ordered, gesturing with his gun at both of you. He drew closer and forced you and Emily to sit beside each other on the couch. There he grabbed a roll of duct tape from his pocket and began taping your shaking hands together.
“Why’re you doing this?” you asked Buck.
“I need some collateral if I’m gonna get the hell outta dodge,” he replied.
“Fine, but let Emily go. She’s just a kid,” you begged, as tears stung at your eyes.
Buck just continued taping you up. Thankfully not your feet, just your wrists. He moved to Emily next. 
“You don’t need her,” you tried again. “Come on, Buck. You really think Beau Arlen’s going to want to work something out with you if you take his daughter?”
“Oh, I’m bettin’ he’ll be more than willing.” Buck grabbed you and placed a strip of tape across your mouth, then on Emily’s. He hooked a large, calloused hand around your arm.
“Now get up.”
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“What?!” Beau asked. His eyes widened in alarm. “Slow down, Denise. What’s going on?”
The more he listened, the more his heart plummeted into his stomach. He had to grip his work desk for balance.
It took him and Jenny under half an hour to meet up with Cassie and Denise back at Dewell & Hoyt, along with a forensics unit of officers. There was evidence of struggle in a turned over table and a broken back door lock.
Denise explained that she left you and Emily for just a few minutes while she went to grab a late lunch order. By the time she returned, the power was out, set off by the breakers, and you and Emily were missing.
Jenny found your purse on the couch, while Beau found your cell phone on the ground. He picked it up with a gloved hand. He’d seen you unlock your phone enough times to remember your passcode.
When he inputted those six numbers and unlocked the screen, he found his own name and phone number highlighted there. You’d been about to call him.
He squeezed your phone tight in his hand. He looked up and saw another officer pick up Emily’s backpack.
“No power means no surveillance footage,” Jenny said. “Okay, let’s think. Why take her and Emily?”
“It’s gotta do with Avery and the money he stole,” Beau said, grinding his teeth. “I needa find him.”
“Any idea where he might be held up?” Jenny asked.
“Carla will know,” he replied.
“Do you want me to go with you?” Jenny was quick to offer. She could see his rage bubbling.
“No,” he said, cutting her off with a swift hand. “Get a response team ready, but I don’t want anybody doing anything without checking with me!”
He was out the door before any of the women could stop him. Denise was in tears, both for you and for Emily. Cassie wrapped an arm around her shoulders.
“We’re gonna find them,” she promised.
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You and Emily were in the backseat of an SUV. Buck was singing along to some country song, driving them down a highway to hell knows where. 
The tears had begun to dry on your cheeks. It didn’t mean you were no longer petrified, but for Emily, to give her support, you’d been able to keep breathing through it. She was still in panic mode, hyperventilating as tears streamed down her face.
“Y’all better quiet down back there,” Buck warned.
You grabbed Emily’s hands and met her frantic eyes with your calmer ones. You were hoping to reassure her, let her know that while you were scared too, you were with her. She wasn’t alone.
She squeezed your hands back, even though it made you wince. Your right hand was still injured. Again, you breathed through it so you could hold her back. You rested the side of your head against hers to try and help steady her further. If you could, you would’ve held her like a mother bear.
Emily leaned against your side and began to calm down, bit by bit. Meanwhile, Buck continued to talk your ears off—about country music, and how this particular song was the one he and Sunny danced to at their wedding. Though frankly, you couldn’t give a shit about anything that was coming out of his mouth.
All you knew was that it was nighttime, pitch black darkness by the time he pulled into a plaza. It looked like a gas station next to a bar.
Only in Montana, you mused. Though you perked up at attention when Buck parked and actually left the car.
Of course, he took the keys with him and put the child locks on the doors, but you tugged at the duct tape Buck put around your ankles when he’d forced you and Emily into this car. If you could get free, then you could shove your way into the front seat and unlock the doors.
Emily tried to help you. You winced as the tape tugged at your skin. At least I shaved yesterday.
She gasped around her gag when she saw a young man coming their way in the parking lot. You joined her in banging on the window, trying to get his attention.
“Oh my God,” you heard him say, muffled as it was through the window. You pointed at the front of the car, trying to communicate to him to break the window open there.
“Hold on, I’ll get you guys out of there,” he said. He went to the front of the car and tried at the door handles, but before he could get very far in his attempt to free you, Buck came up behind the younger man and grabbed him in a chokehold.
You and Emily screamed at him, but it was no use. You did your best to shield Emily’s eyes when Buck snapped the man’s neck.
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Bad call, bad leadership, bad police work.
Beau felt the weight of his shame like never before—all while he held Carla and rocked her in his arms. She’d just arrived at the police station, after getting the news that her husband had been killed.
When he learned that Emily was taken, Avery tried to help Beau and the police confront the men he’d stolen the $15 million from, but Avery had gone rogue by bringing a gun into the equation.
Beau had just one chance to pull Avery out and send in his unit of officers on standby. Jenny had asked him what he wanted to do, hoping he would make the right choice.
Beau had been selfish. He wanted to see if the men would give up the location on where they were holding you and Emily, so he kept Avery in play. He’d thought the man would be fine with Tonya and Donno backing him up in the room.
After all was said and done, however, Avery lay dead in a pool of his own blood with a bullet in his chest. The criminals also hadn’t taken you or Emily.
By process of elimination, Beau now knew it was Buck. The man had already killed a hiker on his way out of the woods, where he’d been holding Paige.
Now it was a whole new manhunt.
“Beau,” Jenny said. “We have something on Buck.”
It prompted him to drag himself out of the dark spiral of his thoughts. He let Carla go, but kept a supportive hand on her back. She was still distraught, and understandably so—not just for her husband, but for her missing daughter.
Jenny gave Carla a sympathetic look. She beckoned him over though.
“Come see this,” she said.
Beau comforted Carla one moment more, rubbing her back, but she encouraged him to go with Jenny. She led him into another room where Cassie was waiting for them, and Jenny’s laptop was connected to a smart TV.
On the screen was new surveillance footage of a parking lot, outside a bar a few hours out of town. There was a green pickup truck parked next to a black SUV. Beau couldn’t see you or Emily, but he watched Buck drag the dead body of a man behind the truck.
“Buck was casing the lot for a car to steal,” Jenny said. “We’re guessing this unlucky guy found them.”
“It means they’re still alive,” Cassie pointed out. Jenny drew attention to the keys, or whatever it was that Buck dropped and picked up off the floor. It was hard to make out from the footage.
Cassie agreed to ask Cormack Barnes if he knew what the keys were for, considering he already had the keys to the pickup trick in his hand when he picked up the fallen set. Beau knew it was time to question Sunny Barnes again.
He headed down the hall to do just that, with Jenny on his heels. Soon though, he found himself slowing down in the hall, like his feet were made of rubber. That, and his heart was fracturing. Jenny slowed down with him, giving him a questioning look.
“It’s just…it’s the one thing we’re supposed to do. Protect our kids,” he said. “The one thing.”
“Hey,” she said. Her blue eyes were understanding. “You couldn’t have done anything differently.”
And yet again, they both knew that was a lie. Beau held a curled fist against his lips for a moment, as he tried to swallow down the lump of emotion in his throat.
“She’s gotta be so scared, Jenny,” he said. His eyes stung, but he tried to blink the unshed tears from his eyes. It wasn’t working.
“Both of them,” he said. “They’ve gotta be terrified. And every minute we waste chasing our tails just gives that twisted son a bitch a chance to do something to them—”
Jenny grabbed his arm to steady him. “I still think he’s keeping them alive for leverage.”
“Well, I hope you’re right, because there’s nothing stopping him from making an example from one of them,” he said.
But the moment it escaped his lips, he wished he hadn’t uttered the thought out loud. It was too much.
He felt like a failure of a father. That was already destroying him from the inside out. And though he’d vowed to himself otherwise, you got dragged into this too.
You’d already been through the wringer enough. Beau hadn’t even checked in on you in damn near a week since he left your apartment the last time.
Now, you’d been taken by the very same man who murdered your friend Mary. Beau hadn’t had the chance to tell you…
He hadn’t been able to tell you a lot of things.
And maybe, he’d never get the chance.
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The pickup truck Buck stole had a small trailer attached, convenient for stuffing you and Emily in, along with the corpse he’d made of the truck’s owner.
On the long and bumpy ride down the road, you’d been able to search the dead man’s jeans and found a small pocketknife. You pressed a small button to click the blade open. You showed it to Emily, and then tried to cut her bonds.
You only got halfway through when the truck and trailer stopped. Moments later, you smelled gas. Buck was probably stopping for a refill on the pickup truck. You closed the knife and hid it in your hands. That instinct turned out to be a good one, because Buck slid the trailer door open.
You and Emily winced as the bright morning sun hit your bleary eyes. Not only had you not slept all night, but you’d gotten used to the perpetual darkness of the trailer.
“You girls behaving yourselves back here?” Buck asked.
You and Emily stayed quiet, but fearful. He stepped into the trailer to lower your taped gag, and then the girl’s. He uncapped a water bottle to give her some. It was a strangely humane thing to do, you thought.
But then you realized that he just didn’t want you two to pass out of dehydration. He was trying to keep you alive long enough to use you as bargaining chips.
“My dad’s going to find you,” Emily said, staring up at your captor. Buck chuckled at her cheek.
“You want water or not?” he asked.
“And when he does, he’s gonna kill you,” she said. Buck rolled his eyes and gave her a few sips of water. He offered the bottle to you next.
Instead of drinking, you used his distraction and proximity to pop open the pocketknife and jab it at his face. He pulled back fast, but you managed to sink the three-inch little blade into his neck. Buck backhanded you so hard, it made the side of your face crack against the back of the trailer.
Emily screamed and tried to catch you when you accidentally fell on her shoulder. When you recovered after a bit, blinking the black splotches out of your vision, Buck punched at the spot right above your heads and made you both flinch. By then, he’d taken the little knife out of his neck, even though it made a new wound ooze blood down his shirt.
“Forgot to check his pockets,” he gritted out. His anger then bled away, into a dark chuckle. “Gettin’ a little rusty.”
He poured out the rest of the water over your boots, but he didn’t make any further threats. At least, not physically. He stepped away and began to exit the trailer.
“Next time it’ll be gasoline and a lighter,” he warned. “Now both of you, shut the fuck up.”
Then he closed the door, casting you and Emily into darkness once again.
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“You okay?” Emily whispered. You could barely make out her face in the dim light, coming from the smallest crack in the trailer door. You rolled your head her way so you could give her a smile.
“Yeah, I’m fine,” you replied. Truthfully, your head was ringing and aching at the same time. Buck had knocked you out for a few seconds there. Plus, you were exhausted, and hungry, and parched.
“At least the gags are off,” she said. You nodded, letting out a sigh. You welcomed her to rest on your shoulder and tucked her wrapped hands under yours.
“We’ve just gotta keep holding out,” you said. “I’m sure your dad is on the way.”
Emily nodded in agreement. She believed every word of what she’d told Buck. She just hoped it was sooner rather than later.
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It was much, much later.
Still, you and Emily were no better off. Actually, you were pretty sure this was worse.
Buck had driven you deep into the woods, then forced you to walk what felt like another half-mile until you reached a dusty old shack. He’d unlocked it and forced you both inside, kneeling in the dirt and dead leaves. Along with the duct tape already around your wrists, he’d tied you both up with ropes around the metal hooks hanging from the short roof.
Even with the gags off, it was hard to breathe in the hot, stuffy woodshed. It felt similar to being buried in a box and left to rot.
You weren’t sure how many hours it had been, but the sun was slowly inching by. If you had to guess, it was around mid-afternoon. You were sweating down your neck and back, now uncomfortable while kneeling in the jeans you were wearing. And sometimes, your vision started to blur in and out.
By now you were beyond hunger. Dying of thirst? Quite possibly.
“How’re you doing?” you asked Emily. She nodded, but she didn’t have much energy to talk either.
So instead, you tried to twist your wrists out of the rope. Very quickly you gave yourself burns, however. Buck had tied your bonds so very tight, not to mention the duct tape underneath.
What a fucking asshole, you thought. He could’ve at least left a bottle of water. Or some protein bars.
“How are they supposed to find us out here?” Emily asked. Her voice was small and coarse with exhaustion. You nudged her knee in comfort.
“The police will get it out of Buck, I’m sure,” you said. “Even if Beau can’t, damn certain Jenny will.”
You gave her a smile. Emily tried to smile back, but she didn’t quite make it there.
“God, I’m so thirsty,” she coughed.
“I know, I’m sorry,” you nodded, letting out a shaky breath. “All we can do is keep trying to get loose.”
You both tried twisting out of the ropes for a while, but it was no use. You were just going to bruise or cut your wrists further through the tape.
You knew that you and Emily had been in the woods for hours at this point, somewhere in the middle of the mountains. You tried not think about how unlikely it would be that someone actually heard you, let alone found you.
You knew you were the adult in this situation. You had to keep it together for the girl beside you, but after a while, a feeling of desperation and despair rose up again in your chest, no matter how hard you fought it all.
Tears welled up in your eyes, though you tried to breathe through it. Emily nudged your arm this time, giving you a comforting look.
“It’s gonna be okay,” she whispered. “I know Dad’s coming for us.”
Your lip wobbled, but you nodded and sucked in a breath. If she could be strong, then you could too…
And that was when you started to hear voices. You knew they weren’t just in your head, because Emily perked up too. You both called out the best you could to whoever was out there.
You squinted watery eyes when the door to the shed finally slid open.
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Beau tested the limitations of Jenny’s SUV on his way out from the woods, and then back into them. 
At the very least, Buck was dead. 
Sunny had shot him—before they had gotten a location on you and Emily. Beau had been about to have a serious breakdown before Cassie called him. 
“They found them,” he’d told Jenny, with red and shining eyes. 
In another five miles, they reached the old cabin. Cassie had said there was a woodshed attached on the south side. Beau tore out of the car and sprinted up a hill, through a patch of dense trees, until he found the cabin and the shed. 
Cassie and Cormack were talking to someone just out of Beau’s eyeline, but his gaze focused on his daughter. The moment Emily saw him, she brightened and ran to him. He met her in the middle, grabbing her tight and secure in his arms.
His tears burned in his eyes and fell as he held her, comforted her, rubbing her back. She held onto him just as tightly.
He struggled and failed to keep himself together. Relief wasn’t even the word for how he felt; it was beyond words.
And it was almost unreal to be able to hold his daughter and see that she didn’t look hurt, just shaken.
“I’ve gotcha, sweetheart,” he said. “God, I’ve got you.”
Letting out the deepest breath, Beau’s gaze ventured past his daughter and up ahead. There he found you, being supported by Cassie up the hill. Beau’s eyes widened.
You were rubbing your wrists. They looked raw. Your eyes were also red and watery when they met his. Your breath seemed to catch as well.
Your name fell from Beau’s lips, his voice breaking. Emily looked up at her dad and had to smile. She even made room for you when you came up on his other side. Beau still kept his daughter tucked against him, but he reached for you as well and brought you into his embrace.
He felt your body shaking with quiet, wracking sobs. His heart broke for it, but he soothed a hand over your knotted hair and down your back.
“Shh, it’s okay now,” he whispered in your ear. His voice was choked with emotion. “I’ve got you, darlin’."
Never gonna let you go again, he thought.
You nodded, sniffling, but you kept your face buried against his chest.
Eventually, you lifted your head to meet his kind, if tearful eyes. He was a mess, and so were you. He was right though; you knew that it was all right now, as long as he was here.
You looked over at Emily, who was still hanging onto her father. You touched her shoulder.
“You okay?” you asked through tears. She nodded back at you with a smile.
“Good,” Beau said. “Let’s get you two home.”
You realized then that you were clinging to him like…like he was yours. 
“Oh,” you uttered, releasing his shirt. “I‘m sorry.” 
Beau’s eyes widened at the way you pulled away from him, unconsciously lowering your gaze. He frowned, and he pressed a gentle hand to your cheek, so you’d look at him again. 
“Don’t you do that,” he said, his voice still a bit unsteady.
Almost every cell in his body said to pull you back in. To sink his fingers in your hair, and to kiss you.
But he noticed Jenny, Cassie, Cormack, and even his daughter watching with some kind of smile on their faces. You stared up at him, teary eyed and waiting.
Beau cleared his throat.
He hesitated a bit too long, warring with himself all the while. So he just stroked your cheek and guided you, along with his daughter to the car.
You and Emily were going home.
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AN: 🫣 Lol please don't hate me for the little tease at the end there. But how did you like how all the action and drama of the kidnapping unfolded?
Don't think this is the finale though. We've still got some drama and fun things to come. (Also, I think it's funny how this next particular chapter is going to post on my birthday lol.)
Next Time:
“I’m the one who needs you to forgive me,” he said, gently squeezing your arm. “I promised myself I would keep you safe, that I wouldn’t drag you into this mess. And I couldn’t keep my end of the deal.”
“Stop that,” you said. You grabbed the front of his shirt. “How many times do I have to say it’s not your fault before you get it in your stubborn head?”
It came out a bit snappish, but the moment your eyes met his, you both seemed to realize where your passions had led you. Just inches away from one another.
“Maybe one more time,” Beau said, in a quieter, but no less heady voice. There was a hint of humor in his eyes. You couldn’t help but smile back.
You released his shirt and instead, took his face in your hands.
▶️ Keep Reading: PART 8
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Ko-Fi Me ☕
Series Masterlist
Big Sky Masterlist
Main Masterlist
Series Tag List (Part 1):
@kazsrm67 @letheatheodore @agothwithheavysetmakeup @jacklesbrainworms @foxyjwls007 @wincastifer @iamsapphine @simpforbuckyb @roseblue373 @brianochka @branj19 @globetrotter28 @hazel-eye-coffee-shop-girl-blog @ades106
@charmed-asylum @waywardxwords @deanwinchestersgirl87 @this-is-me19 @rachiem4-blog @sweettimelady @leigh70 @clinicallydepresso @emily-winchester @xiphoidbones @skoveu @nyotamalfoy @kmc1989 @deans-baby-momma @tabsluvsu @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @deanwanddamons
@antisocialcorrupt @lacilou @deans-daydream @deans-spinster-witch @agalliasi @venicesem @chriszgirl92 @lyarr24 @iprobablyshipit91 @ladysparkles78 @solariklees @lostin-jensenseyes @deansbbyx @candy-coated-misery0731 @curlycarley @sarahgracej @bagpussjocken @deanfreakingwinchester @chernayawidow
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p4nishers · 2 years
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IDK ABOUT YALL BUT THE MOST HEARTBREAKING THING FOR ME THIS EPISODE WAS LASZLO'S FACE WHEN HE REALIZED HIS SON IS ACTUALLY, ACTUALLY GROWING UP
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LOOK AT HIM I CANT BREATH
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butch-corvid · 11 months
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I want someone to force themselves on me. Get me so high I can’t push her off or even protest as she starts to grope me. i want to have my hands pinned above my head as she reaches under my shirt even as I tell her no, and laughs at how hard my nipples are. I’m so touch starved and weed always makes me horny, so I start getting wet even as I try to resist. she pushes her weight on me, kisses me as I try to squirm away. I shout for help and she shoves her fingers in my mouth. Maybe she wears me down eventually, telling me how much she needs this, how much she wants me, that it’ll be over soon. Maybe if I keep resisting she pulls out a knife and tells me to choose between her cock in my pussy or. Her knife. Wherever the fuck she wants it.
Once I spread my legs, tears shining in my eyes, begging her not to hurt me, we both realize that I’m dripping wet. She thought she’d have to use lube on me, but my body already knows its purpose. She folds my legs above my head, makes me watch every second of her cock stretching me open. I beg her to pull out but she just fucks me harder, until I feel her pressed deep inside me. It’s almost like the more I protest the more turned on she gets. She puts the knife to my throat, makes me keep begging her to stop, to pull out, even as I get closer and closer. She makes me cum on her cock over and over, telling me that “for a victim you sure are enjoying cumming your brains out on my cock” and telling me how good it feels to violate my fuckhole. By the time she finally cums inside me, throbbing as I feel her fill me up, I haven’t resisted or called for help at all. In fact, I’m moaning, begging for her to breed me. She takes some pictures of me afterwards, eyes glazed over with pleasure, cum leaking out of me, my cock still hard and sensitive.
and god the added humiliation of having to hold the knife against my own throat at some point during her fucking me. she straight up gives me a weapon and all I can do is threaten myself with it because i know im just a fucktoy that needs to be used. because I like being taken by force. being forced to admit it, camera held up to capture every part of my humiliating position, as I say that I love being used, that any woman is free to treat me like a cheap sex toy whenever she wants, and that if I protest, I just want her to be more forceful. I’m just bratting. You’ll make me like it eventually
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letitbehurt · 3 months
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Whumpers who pair comforting words with grotesque or violent gestures. This is something.
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jelly-bean-baby · 2 months
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lol you guys are heathens how am i past 200 already???
well, a promise is a promise, and one of you had a good idea, so here you go!
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sorry the quality isn't as good as the last one, i had less time to prepare lol
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sunnydayaoe · 5 months
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justmoreocs-writing · 23 days
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‘Eddie?’ Belle asked, watching the figure jogging towards her across the car park. She still had her helmet balanced carefully on the bike, the one that she’d saved for and bought herself.
He stopped at the other end of the bike, puffing slightly but attention locked resolutely on her.
‘I’m sorry,’ he said once he’d caught his breath. ‘I shouldn’t have kept asking about everything. It was a dick move. You don’t owe me anything.’
‘Eddie,’ she said softly, taking a step closer to him. Part of her craved to tell him everything. To finally offload the truth of the last few years to somebody. If anybody wouldn’t judge her, it was him. She knew that. And yet she was terrified. He might have been called a freak by society, but she felt like one sometimes because of more than that.
‘Everything all right, Clary?’ Steve’s voice pulled her back to the present, and she glanced over her shoulder. He stood, framed in the doorway of Family Video, expression unreadable. After a few months working together, she recognised the soft concern in his voice; the tentative olive branch.
When she returned her eyes to Eddie, there was something curious behind his eyes. A question as he raised his chin slightly. Belle looked down, unable to take the scrutiny directly.
‘All good,’ she called back, glancing to Steve, hoping he wouldn’t hear the waver to her voice.
He lingered, before ducking back into the shop.
Eddie loosed a soft breath. ‘You don’t have to tell me anything,’ he reiterated gently as she looked back at him through her eyelashes. ‘But I’m here if you ever want to talk, yeah?’ Belle swallowed, wishing she could admit the affection she had for him; how much those words meant. Instead, she offered ‘Thanks, Eddie,’ and hoped it was enough for the moment.
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justmoreocs-edits · 7 months
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OC Halloween Challenge 2023
Day Two: Lights, Camera, Action!
For day two, we’re combining oc as canon, oc as celebrity, and oc’s social media into one day where you get to choose which of those challenges you would like to do… maybe even all of them!
Inside Claribel 'Belle' Barrow's Phone [featuring Edward 'Eddie' Munson, Robin Buckley, Ximena 'Mia' Moreno and Steve Harrington] (A Knife's Edge and Music and Lyrics - Stranger Things Fanfiction)
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a-mint-bear · 1 month
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Your Secret Admirer
Female Yandere x Reader
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Part 2
Late one rainy night, you help a young woman on your way home from work, but she seems strangely familiar...
[tw: knives] no blood mentioned
Part 1
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It was late. You should've clocked out hours ago, but your jerk boss made you stay to cover for his nephew. Who, of course, was "sick" again. Which was code for: "Too hungover to come into work, just like every other Monday."
It was pouring when you reached your stop, but luckily, you'd remembered your umbrella like a responsible adult. There was a chill in the air that made everything seem just a little bit more miserable, but you trudged on anyway. Changing out of your work clothes and into your comfy pajamas always helped you wind down after a bad day.
The streets were about as empty as you'd expect from this time of night, save for the occasional car that rushed by threatening to douse you as they hit every puddle. You were about halfway home when you noticed something... odd.
There was a woman standing on the sidewalk, facing the road. She was soaked from the downpour, her long, dark hair clinging to her face.
At first, you barely paid her any mind. But the closer you got to her, the more your mind started racing. Why was she out so late at night? Why was she letting herself get so drenched? She wasn't really dressed for the weather either. She had to be cold... Did she have nowhere to go? Was she... trying to do something? She was about halfway to the curb... was she waiting for the right moment? The thought doused you like ice water, the fear and doubt somehow colder than the rain.
You were almost face to face with her when something was eating away at you. Guilt? Sympathy? A weird sense of responsibility for this stranger?
But the strangest thing nagging at the back of your mind was...
She looked... familiar?
You couldn't stop your body from stopping in front of her, doing your best to have your umbrella cover her, despite the fact that she was already soaked.
You always had a bit of a soft spot for helping people, even if it wasn't always the smartest idea.
You ask her if she's alright. She doesn't react.
Your mind kept racing. Was she homeless? She seemed well taken care of, her clothes looked nice if soaked through. Was she running from something, or someone? She looked maybe about your age, but... If she could go home why hadn't she?
You tried again, hoping she just hadn't heard you over the rain hitting the fabric of your umbrella. When she finally lifted her gaze to yours, that same feeling of familiarity kept on poking you in the side while you were trying to focus on the scene before you.
She stared into your eyes, and her breathing seemed shaky.
She needed help, maybe, but what could you do? You told her that your phone was almost dead, but you could walk with her somewhere safer. Somewhere she could call someone? Maybe you could walk her home? You offered, hoping she had somewhere to go at all.
You could feel your back getting wet from trying to cover her more than yourself. She smiled, but it seemed off, almost... bitter. When she finally spoke, it was almost drowned out by the downpour hitting the concrete.
"You're... being so nice."
You smiled back, trying your best to comfort her, still running through possible solutions you could offer... What you could do for her...
Would it be nuts to take her back to your apartment? You wonder. To offer a warm shower and a change of clothes while you throw hers in your dryer? She was a stranger, sure, but she obviously needed help. It was only a couple blocks away... she could get dry and then you could get some real answers out of her to figure out what to do next.
You end up making the offer and wordlessly, she agreed. All with that same sad look in her eyes. She clung to you all the way home, holding onto your arm with a death grip.
You fiddle with your keys at the door, all too aware of how the welcome mat is getting soaked. Hurrying in, you go to grab her a towel.
She followed after you, trailing water all the way. She didn't make a move to take it from you, so you took a chance and carefully draped it over her shoulders, starting to work it against her hair. You watch for any sign of discomfort or sign that she'd want you to stop, but no such sign ever came.
You guide her to the bathroom, handing her more towels.
You tell her if she hands you out her clothes, you'd be happy to throw them in the dryer. After a hot shower and a set of your clothes for her to change into, you pass them through the crack in the door, telling her you're leaving to make her a warm drink.
"No!"
She'd grabbed onto your wrist so tightly. The desperation in her voice, her breath hitching as she trembled, all of it made you pause, unsure what to do.
"Sorry, I just..."
She let go with a tired sigh, her face appearing the in crack of the door. Her hair clung to her face as steam rolled out into the hall, you quickly looked away when you saw a hint of the white fluffy towel below her bare shoulders, her hand clasping it tightly to her chest.
"Stay... I mean, would you p-please... stay close? " she stuttered, her eyes cast to the floor in... shame? Embarrassment? "Just... in the hall? Outside the door?"
Was she scared you would leave? Or had you become the barrier between her and whatever she was running from? You promise her you won't go go anywhere, and she seems to relax a little. You keep your back to the wall beside the door and your eyes forward, not wanting to betray the little trust she'd decided to put in you.
You couldn't lie, she was pretty, and the sight of her in your clothes didn't hurt that AT ALL. But she was trusting you. To be thinking of her like... that? It was neither the time nor the place.
She sat on the couch beside you with a hot mug of tea, and she looked down into it with that same sad expression.
"Thank you. You've been so... nice to me. I never thought that I'd be treated like this."
By you? By anyone? You don't notice her hand reaching for yours until her fingers brush against your own. You didn't think of it as anything but her looking for safety, but the look she was giving you was telling you otherwise.
You told her she doesn't have to do that, trying to be vague enough as not to embarrass her. But she just smiled that sad, bitter smile. She set the mug down on the side table, her fingers gently caressing yours.
"... All I ever wanted was... someone to see me. Only me. What they saw or how they felt about me, it didn't really matter. But you're so... worried. So... thoughtful."
She sounded almost... upset, the last word weighed down with so much regret, it threw you.
You asked her if that was a bad thing, and she just smiled.
"When I see you... it's like everything just... makes sense. Like my whole life has just been cold and dead. No one... sees me."
Before you could ask what she meant by that, she squeezed your hand, bringing it up as she gently pressed your fingers to her lips. You couldn't help but feel a little flustered, your face getting warm.
"I knew..."
She caressed your face, and you froze, unsure where any of it was going. Or if you wanted it to.
"I knew that when you finally saw me, it would be everything I ever wanted..."
She spoke like... she knew you? But that didn’t make any sense, you'd never met her before.
Right?
Something felt...odd. Alarm bells were ringing and you couldn't tell what had set them off.
The necklace she wore sat comfortably on top of your shirt. Soft, tiny white flowers trapped in resin, encircled in gold on a delicate chain. Something about it... About her.
You'd seen those eyes before... staring at you from the edges of your day-to-day life but never really in full view. The feeling you dismissed when the hairs on the back of your neck stood on end, the same feeling you got whenever you found those weird gifts all over.
The trinkets and treats, the love notes that ranged from awkward confessions to clumsy retellings of fantasies you starred in...
And her necklace... the same tiny flowers were dried and pressed in a bookmark you'd found in the book you'd been reading one day.
Your eyes went wide, and she let out a shaky gasp. A wide, warm smile spread on her face as she got to her knees on the couch, swinging a leg over to seat herself in your lap.
"You see me now, don't you?" She smiled sweetly, holding your face in her hands. "I'm right here..."
You couldn't look away. All you could ask was the obvious question: Was it her?
A dark blush spread across her cheeks, her hands still holding your face to look only in her direction. "I needed this... I needed you to really see me. You stopped paying attention to my gifts, my notes... Did you like them? Did it... scare you?"
Your heart was beating too fast. You tried to move, to avert your eyes and figure out what to do, but she turned your face back, pressing into you, her thighs squeezed yours almost painfully.
"Tell me. Please, tell me... " She was breathing funny again. She hadn't blinked, like she didn't want to look away for even a moment.
You felt something pressing under your jaw, and it didn't click what was happening until you felt something sharp bite into your skin.
When did she get a knife? Was this her plan from the start, or had you done something to set her off?
You couldn't stop the fear that flashed across your face. But her reaction was somehow odder.
Her gaze on you softened as she bit her lip, blushing as her eyes glazed over. She let out a sweet, content sigh as she cupped your cheek in her hand. The pressure of the knife on your skin relaxed just a bit, but not enough to try and make a move.
You try to diffuse things, being honest with her. You didn't know who any of the stuff was from. You had no way of saying yes or no to her feelings, so you were waiting for her to show up in person. It felt rude to leave her a note back with something so serious, you wanted to do things right.
"But you ignored me..." Her face was suddenly calm, the blush and soft, adoring eyes went back to the cold stare she'd had in the rain in an instant. "You looked right at me and you saw nothing... I was nothing..."
You try and reassure her, telling her that it wasn't true, if only to calm her down. Her fingers worked into your hair, the sensation giving you goosebumps you couldn't fight. Your startled gasp choked into a hiss of pain behind your teeth when she yanked you closer by your hair. Her face was so close to yours you could feel her breath on your face.
You glared at her before you could stop yourself and that look was back. It was like she was completely smitten with it, with you.
"When you see me... really see me... I can't stop myself. It's so... wonderful. I've been empty for so long, but that fear in your eyes... How much you just despise me... Your smiles and laugh, all of it's a part of you."
She leaned to whisper into your ear. It sent chills down your back.
"Little pieces of you filling up that empty space... You can't take it away from me again..."
Her long, dark hair spilled onto your shoulders, it smelled like your shampoo. You close your eyes, tucking your chin into your chest in a desperate attempt to pull away. It was all too much.
"No... no, please. Don't..." You could hear her plead, her voice wavering with fear and desperation so intense it haunts you. "Love me, hate me, anything! Just don't look away. I can't go back to how it used to be... Please..."
You open your eyes again, afraid what would happen if you didn't. She smiled, it seemed so sweet and gentle, coldly contrasted by the knife in her hand.
"There you are..." she let out a little gasp, pressing her forehead to yours. "I don't really want to hurt you, I promise. I'd be... all alone again. Everything about you... good or bad, it's all so, so precious to me..."
She kissed between your eyes, her lips lingered there too long. Your face felt warm, the fear in your gut was getting entwined with something else... Your thoughts were jumbled, all of it was too much. She sat up, looking down at you... Something about all of it, how close she was... her warmth, her words... She had a hold on you, and you didn't know what you wanted to do.
"I can be anything you need me to be."
She brought your hand to her lips, kissing the palm of your hand, all the while staring into your eyes. There was a devotion there that you'd never seen in your entire life. You couldn't breathe.
"Just..."
The knife pressed under your chin to lift it, but your gaze was already locked with hers.
"Look at me."
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shout out to @magical-grrl-usami who wanted to be notified when part 2 came out, hope you like it :o
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jajatoc · 10 months
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Evening Comes (Advesperascit)
(Acrylics on cheap canvas!)
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playfully-sadistic · 3 months
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Isn't this fun, little prey? Cry once for yes, weep and beg for please gut me. And don't you dare bleed on my boots.
Don't add captions. Keep comments in the tags.
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bunnychargebolt · 3 months
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Wish someone was here to hold my hand n carve up my skin while they do whatever they want to me :((
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