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mikalei · 10 months

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————————— Murder in My Mind +18

Killer!Husband!Scaramouche x Fem!reader

Modern AU

Synopsis: your work as a detective was never easy; you have been assigned to another murder case and was tasked to find and apprehend this killer, but what if it was someone you never expected—what if it was someone closer to you than you think…

tw: ya’ll thought it was fluff at first but it’s not lol, eventual smut, mentions of death, killings, knife, blood, violence, psychotic behavior, weird obsessive behavior,; contains: sexual activity, vaginal sex, oral sex, creampie, vaginal fingering, shower sex, rough sex, marking, biting, tit sucking, cunnilingus, and many more!..

cw: no use of Y/n, implied female reader, Scara calls reader “darling, my love,gorgeous, and my wife”, Scara is secretly a psycho but we still love him, not proofread.

part ii: prev ; masterlist ; ??

A/n: based on a c.ai bot made by Haniyyah (click hyperlink to visit their tt page, don’t forget to follow them!). If you’re reading this, I love how you write your bots. The prompt and idea was all from their Killer Scaramouche bot, this fic is based solely on what I encounter while using it. (Also I didn’t add the twins part in this story, I don’t want traumatised childrens on my fic just yet). Also sorry if there are any grammatical mistakes, I haven’t written anything for 2 years, I’m still getting the hang of it.

I woke up at the the smell of freshly brewed coffee coming from outside of the bedroom, it took me a second until I come to my senses and realize the event that happened when I got back from work, blood rushed to my cheeks as I now notice a red hand print on my waist and thighs.

“jesus christ, does he really need to be so rough to me during sex?“ I thought to myself. As I examine myself more, I just realized that I’m still naked. I look for something to cover my body, I’m not really in the mood to put some clothes on but I can’t just walk around butt naked in my house.

Soon, I successfully grabbed one of my husband’s black hoodie after limping towards his drawer—due to how sore my legs are after what happened, and put it on after looking for a fresh pair of panties.

I looked at the clock in our room as it states that it is already an hour past twelve. “Good thing that today’s my day off.”. I then head to the kitchen, still limping to which I assume where my husband is and I was right. There he was shirtless, wearing only his gray sweatpants and and apron as he puts some bacon into the pan.

His toned back is facing towards me he seem to be focused on the food that he is cooking. I just stand there, leaning on the table for support since I have a hard time walking let alone standing up. As I admire his body, I start to notice the red scratch marks he has on his back.

“Did I do that? Holy hell, that must sting so bad…” I thought to myself once again when I got interrupted by Scara speaking.

“My love, if you keep staring at me I might just melt” he chuckles as he turn off the stove and put the bacon and coffee on the table. He took off the apron he is wearing and hang it to the rack, before walking to me, pulling me in for a hug.

“Good afternoon, darling. I just woke up a few hours ago” he said as he kissed my forehead. I buried my head on to his neck as I lean in more to the hug. Being with him really gives me a sense of comfort. “You smell like bacon” I mumble to him to which makes him chuckle.

He picked up the chair that’s tucked in the table and let me sit there before pushing it closer back to the table ,then sitting on the chair across mine. We start to eat the breakfast he served.

While eating, he decided to spoke up once again. “Oh by the way, Hun, your boss was calling you earlier, but you’re still asleep and won’t wake up even with how irritating your phone’s ringtone is” he said the last part jokingly, to which I act like I was offended but then laughed it off. “My boss? You mean my manager?” I asked. “Not sure, I think the caller’s id was Gunnhildr?” He said as he take a sip of his coffee.

“Huh? That’s weird she won’t usually call me directly, most of the time she’ll just contact our manager if ever she wants to relay a message to me” I said as I look for my phone. I opened the contacts and listen to the voicemail her assistant left.

“Hello, this is President Gunnhildr’s office, I’m sorry to inform you that the head of your department has unfortunately passed away, his body was seen in an alley way near a bar and another detective is handling the case right now. The president wanted to offer her condolences to his family, friends and co-workers. She understand that you may also be grieving at his death so she’ll let you take some time off to properly grieve at his loss, as we look for someone who will take his place. We’ll keep you updated if we found a new replacement for him.”

The voicemail then ends, as I feel my blood run cold from the news I received. Scara looks at me concerned about what happened. He reached out his hands to hold mine to grab my attention. “Baby? What’s wrong? You’ve gone pale. Is everything alright at work?” Scara looks so concerned, he stood up from his seat and hugged me from behind.

“Remember the manager I was talking about last night? He was found dead in an alleyway earlier this morning…” I whispered, almost like there was something blocking my throat that stops me from speaking in a normal voice.

“Oh my… I’m sorry to hear that my love, it must be so devastating.” Scara turned me around so I can hug him too. But while I was nestling my face at the crook of his neck, a satisfied smirk in planted on husband’s face. Hearing about his work makes him so happy, and he knows deep down, you also feel some sort of relief knowing that there’s no one going to harass you on your work any longer.

Scara cleared his throat before breaking the hug. “So…uhm, what else did the voicemail said? Do you have to go to work today? Did they assign you to more work?” Scaramouche switches back to an empathetic look as he cups my cheeks on his large hands.

“No, my boss said that I can take a few days break because of what happened.” And with that my husband’s face almost lit up. He was again wearing that same dorky grin he has when he wants to do something he has in mind.

“What’s with that face?” I looked at him as he continues to wear a wide grin. “You know… I remembered we haven’t got the time to celebrate our wedding anniversary a few weeks ago because you’re always busy…” He implies, “…and I have been saving up for this really fancy date on a fancy private beach house that I rented on a fancy island…”

My eyes went wide when I heard what he had done. “You what?! Are you serious?!” The thought of my manager’s death instantly left my mind. “How long have you’ve been planning this?” I was still shocked at how he managed to those things, not that it’s the first time that we went on a fancy date but what he just said is way more fancier than the dates we used to have.

“I’ve been making all the arrangements for more than a month ago and coincidentally, the beach house is available right now and I’ve already bought the plane tickets for the both of us.” By this time I was speechless, how could he do all of this in such a short notice? I was just staring at him, mouth slightly open and still shocked with all of this.

“Why aren’t you saying anything? Did you not like it?” He asked, I can sense him pouting already. “No no no, I was just…surprised… wow, I mean, you really did all of that?” He just gave me a nod and I just swooned over him. I pressed a ton of kisses around his face while muttering “i love you so much” and “you’re amazing”

Scara just chuckled at my reaction “glad you like it, now the trip last for 5 days, and we can get on a flight tomorrow evening, why don’t we prepare today, maybe buy something for the trip?” He suggested, to which I agree. I almost ran to our bedroom to get change when I remembered that my body is still aching from last time.

My husband just looks at me with a smirk, “oh what’s the problem darling? Can’t walk properly” he teased as he now take in the sight in front of him: red marks are plastered all over my neck down to the cleavage of my breast. He looks so proud at his work before a playfully hit him. “You did this” I said to which he only reply with a chuckle, “and I will do it again” he smirked as he picked me up in a bridal style as he walk to our bedroom.

A few moments later, after we finally got dressed, we head on to the mall to buy the stuff we need. As we are walking, browsing from store to store, one had caught my attention. The lingerie shop. I grinned as a fun thought came to mind.

“Oh shoot, babe I think I left my phone at the car, can you go and get it for me? My shopping list is on my notes” It was a lame excuse but knowing my husband for more than eight years and being married to him for three, he will definitely do what I’ll ask even if it doesn’t make sense. Of course I would do the same for him.

“Ok, wait for here, I’ll be back shortly” he left after leaving a kiss on my cheeks. Once he has fade in the crowd, I immediately walked in to the shop.

I look in between the aisles, searching for something that will definitely surprise my husband, and indeed I saw the perfect one, this is way different than the ones I buy but since my dear husband made so much effort for this vacation, I ought to repay his kindness right? I giggle to myself as I pay for the lingerie. I hid it in my purse so he wont see it. It’ll be my gift for him once we arrived at the vacation.

After a few moments, I called Scara over the phone, I have it with me all these time, though I feel guilty for making him run to the car and look for my phone but again I’ll repay his efforts later.

After explaining to him that the phone was actually in my bag, and apologizing to him, he came back to the mall and we went on and buying the stuff we need.

Once we got back home, we started packing our things and soon get ready for bed. I was brushing my teeth at the bathroom’s sink when I felt a pair of arms wrapped around my waist, I looked at the reflection in the mirror to see my husband is clinging onto me.

“Yes? May I help you” I asked but all I can hear was mumbling as he hid his face in the crook of my neck. I finished brushing my teeth and that’s when my husband decided to start trailing kisses on my neck. Soon he found the spot that makes my legs quiver and starts to abuse it.

“Hun…you’re gonna leave a mark again-ah!” I squeal, his hands is now groping my breast—I wasn’t wearing any bra now since we were about to sleep. He is playing with my now hardened nipples through my shirt as he continues to suck on my skin.

“What has gotten-nggh hah- into you?” I tried to speak but he just continue his ministrations getting harsher and harsher each second. I’m starting not too like this. “Scara…scara…stop!” And just then he finally listened to me. I looked at him confusedly. “ ‘m sorry darling, I-I just…” he kept silent, he looks down at his feet before leaving the bathroom after giving me a kiss on the cheeks.

Now I felt bad, he looks so sad after I stopped him. I don’t usually mind it when he suddenly does something like that but somehow tonight was different. I finished preparing for bed, I saw a newly placed red mark over the hickeys that he also gave me from our last intimate moment. I went to our shared bedroom. There I saw him, sitting at the edge of the bed, his head still hung low.

I slowly approach him and sat next to him, I put a hand on his back and when I saw him flinch from my touch, I felt like my heart drops to my stomach. “Oh, darling… look I’m sorry about earlier… I was just stressed, my boss told me I need to go to work tomorrow even if I already told them we’re going to a vacation. You know how busy I’ll get when I’m at work and I might go home very late and I don’t want to miss our flight tomorrow night.” He kept rambling to me as I listen to him.

After he stops, I just pulled him into a hug “hey, it’s okay. You can go to work tomorrow, I don’t really mind.” He tightens the hugs as he puts his head again on my shoulder. “But our vacation, I planned the whole thing and you rarely have time for vacation, this is a once in a lifetime chance!” He rambles, “hey hey it’s okay, I’m okay with it my love. If it’s an urgent matter then you should go.” I said as I pulled away from the hug.

He still looks so stressed over his work so I decided to distract him. I pulled him once again for a kiss, a long passionate one. He was surprised at first but soon he returned the kiss, although he is still quite tense as I climbed on his lap.

“B-but… I thought… you don’t want to-mmph” he said as he tried to pull away from the kiss. “Shh, just relax. Do you want to do this?” I asked him, he stopped for a moment before giving me a small nod. “Words my dear, use your words” I lift his chin to make him look directly into my eyes, he looks so desperate. I can already feel his cock going hard under me-almost feels like he’s not wearing anything under his shorts.

“Yes, please~” he whines, I immediately crash my lips back to his as I slowly grind on his hardened dick while his hands are placed on my waist. I move my kisses to trace his jawlines down to his throat, as I start to suck on his neck, he kept whimpering. My mind was set on pleasuring him tonight, making sure he is free from any stress.

“D-darling nggh~” He released a loud moan as I start to palm his cock through his damp shorts, now I’m 100% sure he doesn’t wear anything under his shorts as his shorts is now wet with his pre-cum. “Yes yes, just relax baby~ I’ll take care of you tonight. Let me take away all your stress.” I stepped down from his lap and kneel in between his legs. He looks at me with desperation and lust on his eyes.

I trail kisses on his clothed bulge, before pulling down his shorts and freeing his cock that hits his belly. He takes a sharp breathe when I start to pump his dick. I start giving the tip a few licks before taking half of his dick in my mouth. His head was immediately thrown back when I started sucking him, his hand is tangled on my hair, pulling it up like a ponytail before trying to push my head down to take all of him.

I looked up at him as he breathe heavily while moaning my name, I can see his eyes roll back every time I bobbed my head down. “Darling-hah oh yes! God you’re mouth feels so great mhmp” he whines more, I feel his dick start twitching in my mouth indicating that he’s close. He is now thrusting his hips to gain more friction, fucking his dick in to the back of my throat, he is already lost in the pleasure as I feel the wetness dripping from my cunt.

“Shit shit shit-aah fuck! ‘m coming! Can I come in your-hah mouth d-darling?” He said to which I just bobbed my head faster, chasing his high. Soon, he cums down my throat with a loud moan while pushing my head deeper, his dick is hitting the back of my throat as he releases more of his load.

After finally calming down from his high, he pulls out his dick from my mouth. He looks at me while he holds my cheek with one hand, I swallowed his cum and pulls out my tongue to show him. He just smiled at me and help me stand up.

Just as he thought I was finished, I pulled down my panties, before sitting down back on his lap and grinds on his cock once again. “Shit…” I muttered as the tip of his dick grind on my clit. I adjusted myself before inserting his dick inside me, which made him moan once again.

“Oh fuck! So good~” I moaned as I felt his cock hit the spot that makes me see stars. I started to ride him slowly, bouncing on him as his hands are on my hips, guiding me. “Mmhm i love you-hah, i love you so much… my darling wife hnngh” he kept whimpering as he now controls the pace, thrusting his hips harder as he makes me ride him.

I pulled him once again to a kiss, my hand is on his shoulder for support while the other one is tugging on his hair, which makes him whimper in to the kiss. “I love you so much… baby~ aahh nghh” I couldn’t help but feel the ecstasy overflowing me as he kept pounding on that same spot. Sooner or later, we both ended up cumming on the same time, before laying down on the bed. He still hasn’t pulled out yet as some of his come drips down my thighs.

We are both breathing heavily, we pulled each other for one last kiss before sleep engulf us.

Extra notes!:

Another part done! First, I’d like to apologize for not uploading earlier, our vacation started last week but there are still a lot of things we had to do, especially the preparation for our recognition that happens today (I was one of the honor students so yay!). Secondly, this part might seem rushed especially the smut scene, don’t worry, I will get back at the next part. Lastly, I still don’t know how I will end this story, I don’t really have a story board for this, I just wrote it after I enjoyed the c.ai bot version of this. So I’m not sure how much part this will have.

Oh and also I’m accepting request, I still don’t have any rules regarding it, but you can still send in your requests already, I’m fine with writing whatever you want as long as it doesn’t mention incest, underage sex, or any particular trauma like SA.

#genshin impact #genshin impact au #genshin impact smut #genshin wanderer #encanto x reader #wanderer x you #wanderer x reader #wanderer smut #scaramouche x reader #scaramouche smut #scaramouche x reader smut #genshin impact scaramouche #kunikuzushi smut #kabukimono #genshin impact x reader #genshin smut #genshin scaramouche #genshin x reader smut #genshin x y/n

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i-literally-cant-with-this · 7 months

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A/N = So how this originally started was not at all how it turned out. And I'm getting really sick of my fucking head doing this shit. Like, I think I have decent ideas, it's just executing said ideas into a coherent story. Maybe I should take notes or something. Anyway. Enjoy.

C/W = MILD violence, I just wanted to label this as though it could be a potential TW. Glasses (drinking) being thrown, yelling, slapping. No beating the shit out of each other or anything. Sex, I mean, it's Sanemi. Oral, (recalling F->M), then M->F. And as always, a gross overuse of italics.

✵ creator:/yangki_4nemi✵

MINORS = NO UNDER THE CUT

For The Record

You threw a glass at Sanemi's head. "YOU DO TOO, YOU FUCKER! You always leave the lid and the seat up. And don't even get me started on the fucking toilet paper going the wrong way!"

You glared at him and your chest heaved in full rage mode as the Etta James record on the speaker kept playing "At Last".

Of course your song would come on right freakin' now.

You tilted your head and he knew by the look on your face another glass was sure to head his way.

"Babe, B- y/n, I swear ... I didn't know this was next on the playlist."

He put his hands out in front of him to protect himself from whatever you might decide to throw at him next.

You walked over to the record player, standing there with your hands on your hips.

Tongue in cheek, rolling it around ... you wanted to throw the record at him.

"Y/n - baby ... bayyy-beee. P-fuck. Please don't. You know how much I love that thing. Please ..."

Oh how he begged you to leave it alone.

You weren't insane. Nothing would happen to his precious record player.

Instead, you walked over and slapped him across the face.

His face moved to the right upon impact. And he immediately came back to meet your eyes.

"You ... you fuckin' sure did, huh?" He checked his mouth for blood, he could taste a little but couldn't find where it came from.

"I did. The question remains, what will you do, hm? Hun-nee?"

You knew what you were getting yourself into. For the most part, anyway. Sassing off to him like that.

But my god.

He fell asleep while you were giving him head.

His hands were rubbing the back of your head, he was moaning and it sounded so, so sexy.

Then ... then he quit moving.

You thought he was just laying there, dumbfounded by how good it felt.

Then. He snored.

"What am I going to do? I don't know. Why don't I just keep my dick in my pants for the next month and see how you like it?" He was getting cocky.

"You ... w- you couldn't." Your arms folded over your chest as you smirked at him. Looking around for something else to throw at him.

"Oh I could, but I won't. You'll miss this dick so bad."

"You're a cocky bastard, you know that, Sanemi? You think you're hot shit. But you know what? I've got plenty of ways to take care of myself, too."

"Yeah? Well maybe I'll just go down to the club and get my needs taken care of."

You slapped him on the other cheek. "You wouldn't!"

"Oh, I would. I've done it before."

You slapped him again and he pulled you up against him, your soft breasts pressing into his muscular chest.

"I know I couldn't stand to see someone else touch what was mine. Fuck. I'd go nuts." He said.

"I'm not yours," you scoffed.

"You're not? Then who's dick did you just suck? And whose tongue did you sit on this morning while you came all over my face?"

"Fuck you, Sanemi. You don't deserve me." You smirked.

"Baby, we were made for each other. You know it as well as I do."

He started to kiss your neck and you pushed him away, "Fuck off! Don't fucking touch me." You feigned anger.

"Okay, okay. You win. I'm sorry, baby. I shouldn't have fallen asleep."

"You're damn right you shouldn't have!"

"I know ... I know. Let me make it up to you. Let me take care of you. I promise I'll be good this time. Please."

He put his hands on your hips and pulled you back towards him. You didn't resist.

He slid his hands under your shirt and up your back, undoing your bra as he went.

You leaned your head back as he kissed your neck and jaw.

He pulled your shirt and bra off and ran his fingers over your nipples, pinching and pulling them gently.

You moaned and pressed your hips into his.

"I love you so much, y/n."

"I love you too, you big fucker. Just don't fall asleep on me again."

He laughed, "Oh my fucking God. I won't. I swear. Let's go to bed."

He scooped you up and carried you to the bedroom, laying you down on the bed gently.

"You want me to go down on you?" He asked, kneeling on the bed between your legs.

"Yes. But first, take off your clothes, Sanemi. Lemme you."

He smiled and stood up, peeling off his shirt and jeans.

He was so beautiful.

The way he looked at you made your heart race.

He knelt back down and pulled your panties off, tossing them on the floor.

"I can smell your pussy from here. Goddamn. We should fight more often."

You laughed as he kissed your inner thighs.

He slid his hands under your ass and lifted it up a bit, pressing his lips to your clit.

He worked his tongue in circles, pushing your hips into the bed.

"Fuck, Sanemi. Don't stop. Please, please don't stop."

He licked and sucked and flicked his tongue over your clit until you came.

He didn't stop until you came again and again.

You were exhausted, but you still wanted him inside of you.

You pulled him up to you. His body heat washes over you.

"Are you sure? You look tired."

"I am tired, but I still want you."

He rubbed his cock against your entrance before slowly sliding it in.

You moaned and pulled him close, your arms around his neck.

He thrust in and out of you, his forehead pressed against yours.

"I'm close, baby. Fuck. You feel so good."

"S'nemi ... jesus ..." you whispered.

"Jesus isn't coming, but I am ..." he sped up, his hips unceremoniously slapped into yours.

He grunted and groaned as he came inside of you.

You kissed his neck as he did so.

He collapsed on top of you, breathing heavily.

"Holy fuck," he said.

"Mhm ... I think we should fight more often."

"I love you, y/n."

"I love you, too. Now, get up off me you big asshat. I need to pee."

"Oh ... sorry, babe."

He rolled off of you and you sat up, feeling his cum drip out of you.

"Fuck."

"What?"

"That's so hot. Get away from me before I fuck you again."

You came back from the bathroom and stood in the doorway, your body a pretty post-O pink.

"Don't you dare, Sanemi. I'm tired. You wore me out."

"I know, I know. Come to bed."

You climbed in next to him and he pulled the blankets up around you.

"Are you ever going to make me breakfast in bed?" You asked, looking up at him.

"Yeah, yeah. I will. Just be patient, baby. I promise. Tomorrow you'll get the best damn breakfast in bed of your life."

"Ok, but I want an extra side of you." You made a vomit motion, hating yourself for saying that to him. The least cheesy man alive.

"Keep that shit up, y/n. Keep it up and I'll throw something at your head."

#kny sanemi smut #sanemi #sanemi shinazugawa smut #shinazugawa sanemi smut #sanemi smut #demon slayer #sanemi demon slayer smut #demon slayer sanemi #kny smut #kny sanemi shinazugawa smut #a girl can dream #fuck this side of reality

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treedaddymcpuffpuff · 3 months

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Beneath Miles of Stone - Part thirteen - John Wick x Plus Size Fem Reader

Summary: John has been in prison for nine months. He’s content to stay if it means appeasing the high table and keeping peace between the owners of each continental. However, he meets someone who erases that willingness. Peace be dammed.

TW: rape/non-con ; violence ; blood ; violence against women ; name-calling, bullying, and fat-shaming ; self esteem issues ; awkward, embarrassing situations

He doesn’t come back. From the time she wakes up at 5PM, she waits for him. Impatient, distracted, not knowing what to do to pass the time. Midnight peaks around the corner ominously, and she’s pacing back and forth in the living room when Michael walks through the door.

He smiles big, sets his bag down on the counter, and greets her. “What’s wrong?”

“I wanted to see him tonight,” she says, trying not to start crying like an idiot again.

“Oh, hun,” Michael sighs. He pulls her into a cold hug after hanging his jacket up. “Did he tell you you would see him tonight?”

She shrugs. “He said maybe.”

Michael motions for her to sit on the couch. His hair is still glittering with icy rain drops. “Well, at least he’s not lying.”

“I’m just confused. I don’t even know if he actually likes me.”

“If he’s kissing you and introducing you to his friends, then he likes you. Men are stupid. They think that things can be simple and clear cut, but they don’t factor emotions into their master plans.”

“So you think I’m just a fling?” She asks.

Michael cringes. “Honestly, I don’t know. On one hand, he sounds like he wants you in his life, but, on the other, he seems distant and secretive.”

She nods. “But I haven’t told him how I feel, either.”

“That’s the other thing; most men, like I said, emotionally inept. They need it spelled out. Maybe try telling him or asking him?”

She almost bursts out laughing at that, but just ends up snorting and rolling her eyes.

Michael laughs for her. “Why do you think I’m so bad at commitment? You tell a guy you really like him and suddenly you’re dog shit.”

“You tell anyone you really like them and suddenly you’re dog shit,” she clarifies.

“Men have broken my heart so much and disappointed me that I should be a nun,” Michael nods. “But, here I am, a slut.”

“You’re not a slut, Michael.” She glares at him.

“Well, if I’m not then I should be. Seriously, how many guys have smashed your heart into pieces? I’m betting the number is one or more.”

“Honestly,” she replies, turning toward him, “my worst heartbreaks haven’t been through relationships. Family and friends have fucked me up worse.”

He pats her shoulder. “See, I envy you. You don’t need anybody. You’re strong.”

Now that, makes her burst out in laughter so hard she shakes with it.

“I’m serious.” It’s Michael’s turn to glare. “You’re self made. No one helped you get here. You clawed and fought your way to the top despite being hindered every step of the way. For Christ sake’s, you put yourself through nursing school. You’re a tough bitch and you need to start acting like it.” He pauses, collects himself. “Sorry.”

Her mouth folds in, eyes looking down at her hands. “You’re fine,” she tells him.

“I’m just. Sometimes you talk so bad about yourself that it’s just kind of pissing me off.” Michael grabs her hand and squeezes. “I get that you think bad about yourself, and it sucks. But if you don’t value yourself, then neither will leather jacket man.”

Michael’s words sting. He makes her realize that she’s fallen into a pattern of feeling sorry for herself, and it’s sabotaging her life. The depressing epiphany would be helpful if she knew how to fix it.

“Let me help you get more confidence,” Michael asks. “Come out with me more often. Go shopping with me. Get your hair done just for the thrill of it. You just said the other day about how you wanted to get a haircut.”

All of that sounds truly wonderful in theory, but what about reality? What about the fact that she has no idea how to style her hair or act confident?

“When you were young, what did you do for fun?” Michael asks.

“Went for car rides, read books, watched movies, walked.”

“Did you ever play a sport, go to prom, have a shopping spree, go to parties?” Michael asks, eyebrows pulled down in concentration which probably means that he’s trying to fathom how anyone can not do those things when they’re younger.

“No.” She looks away, embarrassed.

“Get your nails painted, make out with cute boys under bridges?”

“Nope.”

“Jesus,” Michael sighs. “Then we have a lot to catch up on, don’t we? Oh-“ he puts his hand out to stop himself from talking. “My mistake. We can cross the making out off our list.” He grins. “Unless he isn’t cute.”

She drops his hand, laughing sheepishly. “He’s…” she struggles to find the right word, but gets upset just thinking of his absence. “Very cute.” She finds herself sinking into the memory of high cheekbones and woodsy eyes and thermal skin and hungry, rough lips.

Michael waves his hand in front of the glassy look on her face. “Oh, god,” he murmurs. “You’re totally fucked.”

——————————-

Michael thrusts a lace babydoll into her chest so hard that it makes her stumble backward. “Here, is this your size?”

She looks around the room to make sure no one’s watching. Just other women minding their business and digging through racks of lingerie.

She glares at Michael, because he promised that if she at least went in to Victoria’s Secret, he wouldn’t give her any suggestions on purchases. And here he is, handing her a piece of fabric that won’t cover her thigh let alone whole body.

She sticks it back on the rack it came from. “I don’t think it will fit me.”

He sighs, rummaging through the underwear bin. “How do you know until you try?”

She picks up a tiny, silk thong from the top pile and shows it to him. “How can you wear this stuff? Isn’t it in you the entire time rather than covering you?”

Michael takes the panties from her and examines them, chuckling. “No, see, you’re looking at them wrong. This one my ass would swallow.” He tosses it back, and holds up another in its place with seemingly better coverage all around. “This one would be cute yet practical.”

“Hmmm.” She tilts her head, trying to understand what he’s talking about. “I’m pretty sure my ass would swallow all of them.”

Michael sticks his tongue out at her. “No need to brag.”

While Michael decides on underwear, she goes to smell the perfumes. Now this, she thinks, Victoria excels at. In fact, she just might buy a cotton candy scented bottle that’s half off and the lotion to match. She makes sure this is the one she wants, though, before taking it up to the counter and checking out.

Michael is proud, grinning, patting her on the back as they walk the mall. “See, Vickie isn’t that bad.”

“Eh, she smells nice, I’ll give her that.”

They both share a giggle.

She asks Michael if they can go into the book store, and he rolls his eyes.

“Babe, no offense, but you go in without me and I’m gonna check out Sephora.”

“Ah, that reminds me.” She taps her face. “When are you teaching me how to do winged liner?”

“As soon as you buy eyeliner,” Michael replies. “Which is why you should come to Sephora. I mean, not to sound like a vapid bitch, but.. the book store? Really?” He’s smiling, teasing her.

“That’s why it’s here, right?”

They part ways.

She didn’t want to tell him the real reason she came in, which is to get a present for John. If she ever sees him again.

She goes right to the romance section and begins to peruse around for something he might like.

The Jackal and the Cat, One Foot in Santa Monica, The Clandestine Candle .

She tries to picture him reading any single one of these, but her mind comes up blank. Maybe he meant that he likes older romance books? She walks to the classical section.

Two men in suits standing by Agatha Christie’s showcase catch her eye and remind her too much of a certain well-dressed gentleman she admires. Both are tall, well built, fancy and stoic, looking very out of place here in Books A Million.

They unabashedly and suspiciously watch her, and it freaks her out enough that she ducks behind a case of Edgar Allen Poe and Shakespeare. Weird merging timelines, but a great safe haven.

A small elder woman with white, wispy hair, dark skin, and sharp grey eyes smiles brightly up at her. She wears a black pant suit and smells like flowers. Tasteful jewelry adorns her neck and wrists. She has a copy of The Count of Monte Cristo in her hands, flipping it over to examine the shiny hardback spine.

“Oh, excuse me dear, but could you do me a favor? I left my reading glasses at home and I’d really like to hear the summary on this. Can you read it to me?”

She smiles back and takes the book to do as requested.

After she’s done stumbling over her words, the older woman looks entranced and astonished like she’s one of the best storytellers from this century. “Oh, that sounds wonderful,” she says, folding the book into her weathered palms for safe keeping. “Thank you so much. Have you read it?”

“Um, yes, I think in highschool?” Her cheeks get a little warm with embarrassment from being visibly uncultured in front of this sophisticated looking individual.

“Ah,” the stranger muses, “and A Picture of Dorian Grey?”

“I, um, wrote my big book report on that one,” she chuckles, rubbing her arm.

“Anything specific you’re looking for?” The woman asks, ready to return a favor.

“Romance? Something cultured? Older?”

The woman puts a finger to her lips in thought, then her grey eyes light with an idea. “Come with me.”

She’s surprisingly light and quick on her feet for a woman of her age. She actually has trouble keeping up as the tiny woman floats through the store until settling at the back wall. A large sign above the shelves reads: ROMANCE.

The older woman, knowing exactly what she wants, narrows in to the right handed corner. She fingers through some hardbacks, pulls out a plain blue novel, and hands it to the waiting person behind her.

In Safe Hands by Jane Sanford. The inner synopsis promises a thriller romance with a great twist. Plus, it’s a beautiful book. Simple and hardbound, shiny Robin blue. Something that John would appreciate, hopefully.

“Have you ever read this one?” Soft white hair floats into view as she examines the book.

She looks up and smiles. “It’s not for me.”

The elder smiles and the devilish look makes her seem years younger. A certain knowing reflects in her face. “Ah.” Her tone is teasing. “A love interest, perhaps?”

The accent wasn’t noticeable before, but now it’s apparent. Some kind of rich, articulated drawl that she thinks she’s heard before.

Her skin heats. “Yes.”

“My, you live in this moment and love it no matter what hardship it brings.” Her crinkled eyes run up and down over the expansive shelves of paper before she looks back up at her and smiles. “Love is rare, you know. At least the good kind.”

She chews her lip. “The good kind?”

The woman chuckles. “I can tell you have the good kind. You’re buying them a romance novel. It can’t be anything else but the kind of love that makes everything else seem dull.”

She wants to believe this desperately. The words resonate in her chest and pound true through the pulse of her arteries. Once again, she misses John violently. Misses the feelings he gives her. She rubs her fingers over the spine of his present and thinks of his wish to be a librarian.

The old woman pats her shoulder. “You have a great day, dear.”

Her attention is drawn back to the movement of her acquaintance. She never noticed the the two men from earlier standing behind, still staring daggers at her head. They tuck the tiny, waving lady between them, and disappear behind shelves.

She meets Michael at a pizza place near the exit and tells him about the weird encounter while they eat.

“You’re living in a romance mystery novel and you refuse to buy lingerie?” Michael rolls his eyes. “That checks out.”

She shrugs. “It’s more pathetic than that.”

“I got you eyeliner,” Michael tells her, taking a bite of baked ziti.

“Michael!” She admonishes. She grabs a bag from their feet and opens it to show him the eyeliner, lip gloss, and small eyeshadow palette that she purchased after leaving the bookstore. “Do you really have that little faith in me?”

Michael cringes. “Yes, but I’m surprised and proud.”

She grins. “Thank you, I guess.”

They take Michael’s car to a little coffee shop on Wall Street Court that Michael promises she’ll love despite the hustle and bustle at the heart of the city. He gets a big iced vanilla latte and she orders a smoothie. They sit next to floor-to-ceiling glass windows that give an amazing view of the lavish cityscape.

Important men in business suits and beautiful girls in bodycon dresses flit in and out of crystal business doors. Expensive limos line the streets. It’s strange, to have this scene at her back door when she’s always felt so separate from it. She watches like it’s a movie.

“Do you want to go to the theatre?” Michael asks, tapping at his phone. “Emily and Syreeta are going and want us to join.”

“They want you to join,” she corrects.

Michael glares at her. “Were we not just talking about this self pity thing? They don’t hate you.”

It stings because he’s right, but climbing out of a pit of despair is harder than it looks. Every time she tries to get a hand on the ladder rung above her, the hating darkness bats her away and keeps her stagnant.

“They just didn’t talk to me in the club,” she explains.

“Funny, they said the same thing about you. Just be yourself, like you were with me. When you actually talk, you’re the easiest person to get along with I’ve ever met.”

She sips her drink and thinks about it. “Thank you, Michael, but you’re pretty easy to get along with, too.”

He sighs, puts his phone down, folds his hands, and leans over. “You coming or not? It’s the Nutcracker. Uh, hello, earth to -“

Her attention is totally and suddenly taken by something on the other side of the glass window. Her eyes have that unfocused, enraptured look again, and Michael waves his hand in front of her face. “Babe?”

John Wick stands on a street corner, waiting to cross, hands in his pockets. He’s dressed in a black suit and red tie, hair fluffed back, looking as good as ever. Michael glances over at her center of attention.

“Oh my god, it’s him, isn’t it?” Michael is suddenly whispering as if this is top secret information. “Which one?”

“Shhh,” she says, embarrassed, looking away, playing into the top secret thing despite no one in here caring about them or what they’re talking about.

“Listen,” Michael tells her, pushing his coffee out of the way so he can lean over the table. “If you want to go after him and ask him what the hell is up, I don’t blame you. In fact, I support this cause and am here to help.”

“He might be working, Michael,” she says, looking away from John reluctantly.

“Only one way to find out,” Michael grins. “Go after him. Show him that you’re serious.”

Michael’s suggestion is all too tempting. Mostly because she misses him dearly even though it’s only been around 24 hours since they last interacted. It’s obsessive behavior, borderline creepy of her. He’ll probably hate her if she walks up and talks to him, now, but on the other hand, he’s the one barging into her apartment without an invite and cornering her at clubs and waiting outside for her to get home. Isn’t it fair if she returns the favor, shows him she wants this just as much? She glances once more at his broad back while he walks down the opposite street and she makes a split second, dumb decision that she normally would never even think about making.

She gets up, grabs her jacket, tells Michael she’ll be back, and slides her chair in.

Michael yells after her as she walks out the door. “Don’t get kidnapped!! If you’re not home by midnight I’m calling the cops! You better text me! I’m drinking the rest of this smoothie!”

She’s too clumsy to be any sort of sneaky, but she doesn’t really care if he sees her walking behind him - trying to keep up - because he’s going to get a full view of her anyway when they’re face to face.

The sidewalk and streets are blessedly clear of ice and slush and snow, and if she didn’t know better she’d say that divine intervention was on her side, because if she had to walk this fast on slippery ground, she’d already be K.O.’d by the earth.

John turns a corner and she is practically running to catch up with his long legged stride. She murmurs sorry as she whizzes by nicely dressed street patrons a little too closely and receives glares and annoyed murmurs for her trouble. By the time he stops, she’s struggling to catch her breath. He stands on the steps of a large building constructed to take up two corners of the street. It’s center piece among the business district, white and huge.

A bellman dressed in silver and red stands at the door and waits patiently for the only visitor, John Wick.

Shes grateful that he’s stalled on the steps, staring at a phone that she didn’t know he had, too distracted to see her as she clears the busy street. Drivers lay on their horns, someone screams at her out of a passenger window, and, finally, when her feet hit the curb and she almost wipes out trying to get away from moving traffic, John turns.

“Are you following me?” He wears the exact opposite expression that she wants to see; hatred and anger slash his angular features into something to be afraid of.

She feels like a fox in a henhouse with the farmers gun pointed at her muzzle, head between her legs and automatically backing away from him. She misinterprets his own fear with disgust at her behavior and now she just wants to turn tail and leave, but the doorman sees her, and he undoubtedly notices her connection to John, and it’s far too fucking late for that.

There is a point that needs to be made to protect the precious pumping blood inside her body and he can’t decide what to do to get that point across when adrenaline is binding fury and fear inside of him tighter and tighter. He feels the tick of his watch against his wrist and relates it to her dwindling innocence and safety. He stalks toward her, one step from him matching four of her own.

John grabs her up by the bicep and drags her along like a stuffed doll to his car that’s parked around the right side of the building.

His grip is hard enough to sink bone deep and make her ache, but she shuts up and lets him take her where he wants, too ashamed to argue with him now.

She’s not even sure what’s happening when he hustles her into his backseat and makes her lay flat down on it with her legs curled up on the freezing bench.

He doesn’t bother telling her to duck into the safety of the vehicle, just handles her into a fetal position himself. “Stay,” he says, and the door shuts behind him, leaving her alone and shivering in the cold leather.

She hears the click of a lock and buries her numb face into her jacket.

Charon is waiting at the front desk to greet him with a placid smile. John flips him a gold coin in greeting. “Charon.” He tips his head as the man catches his bribe.

Charon’s smile turns ardent. “Hello sir, nice to see you, what can I help you with today?”

“I have a guest in my car. Could you take them somewhere comfortable, safe, secluded while I do business?” John’s voice is poised but his eyes are pleading.

Charon slips the coin into his pocket. “Of course, sir.”

His tensed body relaxes while one of the few people that he trusts to protect an innocent woman takes his keys and leaves the building. She still won’t be safe enough for him to feel entirely calm, and he only has a second to regret not putting her under his arm - the only place she will be completely protected - before he’s walking into the dining hall to meet Viggo and Winston.

“John,” Viggo cries, standing and pulling him into his side for a brief embrace. “Three minutes late?”

Cool sweat forms under his collar at the comment while he tries to remain composed in the face.

Viggo looks suspicious. But John can’t decide if it’s because of a tell on his features or the fact that he’s never been late twice in his entire life.

Viggo motions for him to sit, still cheery. Winston stays tight lipped, formal, poised. John envies him for the mastered skills.

He’s so wound tight that he almost jumps when he feels the oncoming, light pressure of a hand on his shoulder. He’s never been like this in line of Viggo’s sight, and he knows that the man can tell he’s not himself, but he can’t seem to get the vision of her bloody, pulseless body out of his mind. And what he will do to everyone in this hotel as a consequence of it.

“Hello John, can I get you something to drink?”

He turns to the waitress and tries a smile. “Hello Rachel, nice to see you. I’ll have a Blanton’s. Ice, please.”

“On the rocks,” Rachel winks at him. “Got it.” As she walks away, Viggo talks business.

————————————————————

Charon is very nice. He introduces himself, assures her that she will be an “honored guest”, and lets her sit up front while he drives the car into the attached, Continental branded parking garage.

The section they settle John’s car into is filled with other expensive-looking vehicles. She recognizes BMWs and Jaguars from TV commercials. Charon insists upon opening her door, much like someone else she knows, and then guides her to a big silver elevator with neon, red and green buttons blinking in sequence on an expansive wall panel tucked to the side. She thinks he’s going to press one, but instead, he pulls a key from his pocket and unlocks the plain metal door beside the elevator that she assumes, at first, is unimportant.

The staircase is lined with soft blue paisley carpet and the walls are decorated with pictures of strange art pieces. She stares at distorted naked bodies and eyeless characters and blurred grey crowds and angels battling bloody demons on top of cotton candy skies as Charon leads her into the dim underbelly of the hotel.

“They are all painted by former and current members,” he tells her.

“They’re really amazing,” she says, not wanting to push questions in fear of offending the overly kind man guiding her to safety that she didn’t even realize she needed until she was being manhandled into John’s back seat.

If she lives through this, she’ll have to get permission to take pictures and show Michael. It’s strange, to not know if she’s going to be alive tomorrow or not. Fatality that seemed so fanatical and far away two weeks ago now stands at her doorstep waiting like an expectant courier and she’s starting to get used to its harrowing presence.

Charon lands light on his dress shoes off the last step, and waits for her to catch up. She stumbles a bit on the rough rugs, and he reaches out a hand to steady her shoulder while she smiles apologetically. “I’m sorry,” she whispers.

“Do not be sorry,” Charon tells her, patting dust off her jacket. “These floors need a remodel. This is our old entrance: The only people that use it are the ones who can navigate it blindfolded.”

He motions her into a doorway that leads to a drastic change of scenery. In here, everything is modern and brightly illuminated. There are grey leather couches seated around a large table in the center of the room. A bed with black, shiny sheets sits perfectly in the open floor plan, with bamboo plants flourishing on each side of the wide mattress. There is a room that she assumes to be the bath, because it’s the only part of this place with a door attached. Two glass coolers glow with rainbow assortment bottles of alcohol and seltzer waters.

She blinks up at the high ceiling, too distracted by the view to hear Charon ask her if she would like something to eat.

“Miss?”

She stops and looks at him. “What? Sorry?”

He repeats the question. Her stomach growls, but she tames it and tells him that she’s fine, not wanting to be a bother.

“Help yourself to the beverages,” Charon motions, referring to the large coolers. “And feel free to use the room as you please until Mr. Wick retrieves you. This is a private, isolated suite we reserve only for select guests. No one will bother you, but if you should need something, please just pick up the phone and I will be waiting on the other line to assist you.”

She nods at him, using the gesture of gratitude that John favors - already adopting his mannerisms - and gives warm thanks.

“It is my pleasure,” Charon says, “any friend of Mr. Wick is a friend of mine.”

With that, he leaves her alone in the huge room.

She has a million questions, but none of them seem more important than keeping hold of John Wick, so she quells them and waits like an obedient dog for his return.

————————————————————

Viggo is leaned back, drinking sweet vodka, negotiating the terms of John’s re-employment.

“You were never fired, we held the position.” Viggo rubs the just-greying scruff on his chin, eyeing John. “Winston, can we still smoke in here?”

“‘Fraid not,” Winston replies, taking his own sip of sour scotch and pursing his lips as if in distaste. “Only downstairs.”

Viggo grumbles. “Gav-no. Why didn’t we go down there?”

“I figured it would be easier for you to run and get to your men if John decides to kill you,” Winston shrugs.

His dry sarcasm and witty grin has Viggo laughing.

John says nothing and takes a drink, trying futilely to calm himself with liquor.

“I think it was stupid that they put you in prison and didn’t expect this to happen, John.” Viggo bites into his ravioli, chews, swallows. “And if they want a war, I will give them one.”

“We did it to prevent a war,” Winston interjects.

“Bah!” Viggo spits. “The war is already happening - it has been for a long time - what’s a little more blood shed going to do?”

“A lot more,” Winston corrects. “Blood shed.”

Viggo comes forward, eyes determined, tosses the silk bib from around his neck onto the table. “So be it. I want you with me, John. And I will make sure no one makes one hair out of place on your head.” He leans back, done eating. “And your head too, Winston.” He nods at the older man.

Winston raises his eyebrows and looks at John expectantly. “Your ball.”

————————————————————

The bathroom is more of a sauna. Different height benches, numerous sprayers on the ceiling, vents that leak hot steam into the room at the push of a button. A toilet with a bidet behind another secret door. The sink is concave marble, adorned with freshly wrapped toiletries and beautiful smelling lavender soap that she honestly thinks about sticking into her pocket and taking home.

Just as she’s about to exit, she hears the loud slam of a door and laughing male voices clanking against one another.

She freezes, turns the lock back, steps away, looks around for an escape which there is none of.

Then, a female voice, pitiful and pleading. She presses her ear to the smooth wood, listening as the woman - language different from her own - becomes more distressed.

Her heart rises from her stomach to her ribs and burns in anger and disgust as she tunes in to the exchange.

“Look at her, all tied up and nowhere to go.”

“Fucking slut.” A hard slapping sound and then a scream of agony from the high pitched female voice. Then crying and more despicable taunting from the numerous male visitors.

She’s not thinking of anything but that gut-wrenching, memory triggering voice when she pushes through the door and steps out into the room.

Five young men have a small Asian woman, completely naked and bound in rope, prone on the cold floor. Their hands bruise her skin as she sobs.

As all their eyes turn to her, reality smacks her in the face like a burst of fire burning her eyebrows off. The woman’s eyes are red and sore, tears streaking down her face. One boot has her cheek pressed down while a hand grabs her hair and pulls taut.

“Hey,” she says, voice filled with venom, adrenaline in her body fire that smokes her vision. “What the fuck are you doing to her.”

The only problem here is that she’s a lone woman in a hotel room with no weapons and these guys look automatically angry for the interruption. The one with the boot on the girl’s head gets to her as fast as John can, and grabs her by the collar. “Shloondra,” he spits, “tebya nikto nikogda ne uchil ne lezt' v svoi dela?”

Her heart plummets again and her angry glasses cloud with fear. She’s up on her tiptoes, choking at his grasp.

He pushes his face down to her own and she smells the potent liquor on his breath. “Davayte prepodam svin'ye urok.”

One of his companions answers in English. “Tie her up and make her help.”

They all laugh.

She’s so tired of this shit. Men. Thinking they can do whatever they want with no consequences. Hatred tastes bitter in her mouth, so potent it hurts her teeth.

And this guy is nothing like Benny. Benny who she couldn’t even fathom fighting because he was so massive.

This guy is small, thin, barely taller than her. She knows she can hurt him, so she does, slams upward with her knee and makes squelching contact with his dying erection.

He drops her and she falls back onto her ass.

As his companions laugh, he grabs his dick and moans through his teeth, eyes squeezed shut.

She smiles, but not for long, because now all these men are coming at her with wicked, delighted intent.

The redhead gets in front of her and crushes her back against the legs of the more muscled member. She’s stuck sitting between them, but she still has her hands and feet, kicks and hits furiously at any soft body part she can find. Redhead yelps in pain as she makes blunt force contact with his balls and screams for someone else to get on her.

Two grab both her arms and twist them at angles that make her screech in pain. It gets the point across, and she stills. Redhead and Russian guy have stepped away to lick their wounds, but two of the others still hold both her arms in a neatly breaking fashion and the other one has her neck in his hands.

He pats her cheek and squeezes her trachea to play with how much air she’s allowed to have.

“Ah, a wild bull.” His thick accent is hard to understand. “Maybe we should have some fun with you?”

“Disgusting,” the muscled one hisses.

“No, she can clearly eat well,” redhead growls. “Make her eat pussy.”

“Would you like that?” It’s clear now from the combined smell that they’re all very drunk. “You hungry, little pig? Want to get all sloppy at the trough?”

Her wild eyes catch the ones of her bound counterpart, and this woman almost looks bored in sharp contrast to herself. The agony is gone from her face and she’s watching this scene and practically yawning she’s so uninterested.

She doesn’t have time to be confused before one man twists her arm back again, and she’s sure it’s going to break, so she screams.

The Russian claps a hand over her mouth and tells her what she thinks is the equivalent of shut up.

Charon opens the door, John catches her scared eyes, takes in the picture, and the last shred of his building anxiety snaps in half.

First, he charges the one holding her throat, and a defensive hand doesn’t have time to raise before John returns the favor, grabs him by the neck, and tosses him into a wall.

He’s ready for the other ones before they have time to realize he’s an enemy.

She watches the unfair fight play out, not because she wants to, but because watching John move is like watching a captivating, bloody ballet, and it’s hard to look away. A big, dumb part of her feels bad for these stupid punks while he wrecks their shit.

He’s just so much bigger than them that it’s insane they think they can counter him. He looks like a giant being pounced on by miniature people. Maybe it’s just the way he doesn’t even try to hit them that makes him seem so massive in comparison. Flipping someone over his shoulder looks like playground antics.

Two by two they fall, until the last one pulls a gun from his holster and aims it at John’s chest. John moves an inch, the bullet hits him in the shoulder, and he simply grunts, inconvenienced, like a bear being shot with a paintball, knocks the gun out of his opponent’s hand, and moves forward, backing him up and glaring down at the man who is visibly shaking in fear, head down to submit, hands in the air to keep the massive predator at arms length.

He grabs him by the neck and this guy is thick but John’s whole hand covers his throat and turns him blue in the face. He lifts him completely off his feet with his right hand, and punches him in the face so fast and graceful that it doesn’t even look like it would hurt until she sees the blood fly out of his skull and his nose cave inward.

He’s done with them, so he goes right to her, pulls her up and holds her at arms length to make sure she’s not hurt.

She pushes against him. “John.” Her urgent tone directs him to the woman bound Shibari style on the floor.

John releases her and they both go to help.

She starts working at the knot around her wrists and stomach while John cuts her ankles free

He moves her fumbling hands aside to slice through the rest of the half-assed binding job.

“Nǐ huì shuō Zhōngwén ma?” The free woman addresses her rescuers.

John stops. “shì.”

John and the woman have a full conversation that she can’t understand. Catching any word is truly pointless.

The woman sits up and pats her on the shoulder. Then, she rubs her bare breasts and yawns. She tilts her head at John, questioning.

The woman talks again, this time pushing perky tits out and pouting at him.

John motions to her and replies.

An unexpected spike of jealousy jabs at her nerves. Now that, she thinks she can ascertain the meaning behind.

“Can you tell me what’s going on?” She asks him. “Is she okay?”

“She’s fine,” John says. “They paid her to have sex with them.”

“She was screaming.”

John shrugs. “That’s what they wanted from her.”

She feels so stupid it hurts. “I’m an idiot,” she whispers.

“She doesn’t think you are,” John says. “She admires you.”

She resists the urge to ask him what she really cares about, which is what he thinks.

They are all sitting on the floor criss cross applesauce like in 5th grade reading class when Winston and Charon enter scene.

“Jesus,” Winston says, looking over the mess. “Is anyone dead?”

“No,” John assures.

Charon starts profusely apologizing to John, but John shakes his head at the repentance and looks, instead, at the naked woman, asking her to tell the newcomers what happened.

Naked woman sighs, annoyed but agreeing.

Winston lays adoring eyes, flooded with realization, on the clothed woman sitting at John’s side, and smiles warmly. He comes and holds out his hand for a shake.

She gives him her own hand and he flips it over and kisses the back. He looks at John while she warms with embarrassment.

“You sure know how to pick ‘em..” Winston muses.

The muscled man tries to stand, but Charon pushes him back down with a Valentino heel. “Sir,” he alerts, motioning at the pile of men. “What should we do with them?”

“Probably something involving a doctor,” Winston says.

“Right away, sir,” Charon nods, pulling a phone from his pocket.

“Are you hurt?” Winston asks her, examining her closely.

She shakes her head no, but points at John. “He got shot.”

Winston looks over and John pulls his suit open to reveal a clean white dress shirt free of bullet holes.

She has to look twice and second guess her own eyes.

Winston sighs. “He wears Kevlar. Most bullets don’t pierce it. He’ll be alright. He’s taken worse than this, I assure you, my love.” He must see the worry on her face because his voice soothes and tames.

She looks at John with a million questions in her eyes, but asks none of them, which he’s thankful for.

Winston addresses the person in the room with the least clothing and they talk for a moment.

John puts his hand on her shoulder and slides over to talk low in her ear. “Did they hurt you?” He asks.

“Not as much as you hurt them.” She tries to comfort him.

“I’ll kill them if you want me to.”

“No you will not.” Winston switches from Chinese to English, turning on his heel to point a warning look and finger at John. “I’m already going to have enough trouble trying to make it seem like this wasn’t business, Johnathan. Plus, I don’t think Viggo will keep you employed if you kill his son.”

John sucks on his teeth and glares at the annoyance that is Winston’s rude interruption before focusing back on her. “My offer stands.”

“No,” she tells him, looking from him to Winston. “I don’t want you to kill anyone.” She grabs his hand and squeezes, pulling it into her lap.

She sounds like she means that, so he stays put, but he hasn’t decided for himself whether they’re going to live or die yet. Especially when they leave Continental ground and hunting season opens.

A loud knock brings the conversation to a small Asian man in a white suit and slacks entering the room. He wears a stethoscope and carries a brief case.

“John.” His set frown turns into a natural smile. “Long time no see.”

“Hey Doc,” John nods.

He sets to work like this is all completely normal. The smell of ammonia and iodine and salt is an affront to the senses as he opens his briefcase and begins waking the Russian up.

John tugs on her as if to escort her away, but Winston stops them. “Let me get you out of here so that no one sees her.”

John settles, but he’s not taking chances, so he drags her into his lap with her head tucked under his chin and his tight arms wrapped around her protectively. Want her, go through me - the point is apparent

“John,” she grumbles, squirming to adjust, embarrassed by his parenting behavior but clinging to him anyway. She’s just happy he doesn’t seem to be mad at her now.

Naked woman comes over and snuggles into John’s side, gripping his bicep to bulging, starring smugly at the groaning group of bleeding, bruised men.

John side eyes her, but allows it, reasoning that she must be weary of them trying to get their money back, and not one to deny someone - who is seemingly vulnerable - protection.

Jealousy rears its ugly head again and she resists the urge to glare at this beautiful girl pressing her bare breasts into John’s side.

Viggo’s son sits up, spits out blood, and looks their way. He opens his mouth to say something, but the look on John’s face makes his snarl falter. “John,” he nods in greeting.

“Iosef,” John nods back.

The braver Russian man starts with venom, but Winston interrupts him. “If you think I can actually keep him from killing you or worse, you’re very wrong.”

He closes his jaw.

She feels like they’re in kindergarten and they have all just gotten into a fight so the teacher is making them sit on the floor and have quiet time.

Violent stares, instead of words, are shot back and forth until the doctor breaks a nose back into place.

Then, the only voice that has occurred in a while is the scream of this man.

John wants to make them apologize, because he knows she’s hurt by the things they said about her, but he doesn’t know if it would actually help her self esteem or harm it, so he stays quiet and promises death with his eyes.

“Now,” Winston addresses the room. “Unless you wish to forfeit the protection this hotel provides, you will forget this happened.”

“He beat us up,” the man with the thick accent argues.

“And you broke into a private room and assaulted a woman,” Winston tells him. “Sounds like you started it. If he’s in trouble, you’re in it bigger. So, nothing happened, correct?”

“We payed her,” Viggo’s son growls, starring at the naked woman who clutches John tighter.

“That’s not the woman I’m referring to,” Winston says.

She looks up at John and it seems like he’s daringthe other man to say something. She pulls at his shirt to get his attention, and he looks down at her, misreading the worry on her face.

“We’ll leave soon,” he says.

She sighs and leans her head on his chest, giving up.

Winston begins to say something, but interruption comes in the form of her phone’s vibrating ring.

All eyes focus on her as she digs it from her pocket, puts it on silent, and texts the frantic Michael that she’s fine and she’ll explain later.

John makes a mental note to beat the roommate into submission so that he’s a little less possessive.

“Uh, sorry,” she tells Winston.

“Quite alright,” Winston assures, smiling big at her like she can do wrong.

John refuses to let her go until they’re in the back seat of an unlicensed black suv and being driven away from the building.

Even now, he keeps her tucked under his arm.

She looks up at him. “Sorry,” she says.

He keeps his eyes on the window scenery to avoid making her feel awful with his uncontrolled, cold expression.

He sucks on his teeth. “We will talk, not here.”

He pulls her further against him and she stays quiet.

#john wick fanfic #john wick fanfiction #john wick x plus size reader #john wick x reader #john wick x you #keanu reeves fanfic #keanu reeves fanfiction #john wick #keanu reeves

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jjkeverlast · 10 months

Note

hi !! congrats on your milestone :DD i wanted to take the opportunity to request especially since i saw that your reqs are open ^____^

if it’s fine with you, i’d love to have a mafia jjk au with the “who did this to you?” trope !! one of my favorite tropes everrr !! however you wanna write it would be fine by me hehe

thank you so much in advance !! congratulations again 🤍

lost in the dark | jjk

>> pairing jungkook x fem!reader

>> genre/au's mafia!au | est. relationship

>> summary jungkook never expected for bangtan's rival to know about you, or more likely find you.

>> word count 1.0k

>> author's note hii anonie!! i hope you enjoy this lil drabble with mafia jk <3 i just wanna quickly thank you for sending such a good plot in another ask!! it helped me write this drabble so easily :) have a great day hun!

[keep in mind that i do not have taglists for request, and prompts are marked in bold! thank you.]

“Now, I’m going to ask again.” The man speaks roughly. Jungkook has a hard time seeing him, the harsh light blinding him and the view around him. He sucks in a breath, ready to take another punch to the jaw, because he knows himself and he wouldn’t think twice about answering.

The man moves closer, the shadow turning into a familiar face. It’s their rival's boss. He’s carrying a sharp knife in his hand as he takes a chair and sits in front of Jungkook who’s strapped to his.

“Where is Bangtan hiding? Hmm?” He leans closer, Jungkook holding his gaze on him, not scared of whatever he’s planning to do to him. Jungkook doesn’t answer, instead he seems to look around, acting as if he’s debating whether to answer the question or not. It peaks an interest in the man in front of him, causing him to lean in and when Jungkook blinks once, he spits on his face. The spit is mostly blood, due to the earlier punches.

The man gasps, chuckling in shock as he grabs a napkin from his pants and wipes it off.

“Is that a good enough answer for you, sir?” Jungkook smiles, despite his whole body aching from head to toe.

He doesn’t speak, still wiping Jungkook’s trace on his face.

“Okay, fine. One thing I do know is…” Jungkook starts off, the man snapping his eyes forward towards him. “Your tie is crooked.” He whispers, smirking at the man’s reaction before a hard slap is received. The sting burns, Jungkook biting back a groan. He’ll never give in.

“All right, if you can’t answer that, I’m sure this question will be easy enough for you.” The rival smiles like the Devil himself, and for once Jungkook’s heart drops.

“How’s your little girlfriend? Hmm? Is she doing well?” Jungkook can’t even process the words coming out of his mouth, desperately wanting for this to not be real. How does he know? How did he know that Jungkook had someone?

“How…” Jungkook whispers, trying to fight back his anger to withhold his composure.

“She sounds so helpless when she’s crying. Here, take a listen.” He moves forward, propping his phone right in Jungkook’s face. The voice recording isn’t long, only a few seconds but all he hears is you crying, begging for your life.

Jungkook sucks in a breath, moving his body in the chair, anger seeping through him completely. “If you fucking touch her—” He begins to threat, but it’s shut down by a fake laugh.

“That’s funny, Jeon.”

Jungkook feels his veins popping harshly in his neck, as he tries to pull on the restraints, wanting nothing more than to punch the fucker in the face for hurting you. To his luck, a loud gunshot erupts in the room, chaos suddenly surges forward and Jungkook wishes he could see, still blinded by that stupid bright light.

All while he hears men fighting, groans and painful whines, he tries to loosen the rope on him, the need to find you growing. After a bit, he manages to get his hands behind his back free, tugging the rest off.

He steps out, finally seeing what the lamp has been hiding from him. It’s Bangtan, all strapped up, fighting and shooting everyone around them. Jungkook is determined to find the boss, having to find out where you are.

He catches a glimpse of him behind some cardboard boxes, trying to keep himself alive but Jungkook is having none of it. He walks straight to him, pulling him by the collar of his white pressed shirt. He’s met with wide eyes, until Jungkook gives him a taste of his own medicine, punching him harshly so he lands flatly on the floor. He’s coughing blood, trying to stand back up but Jungkook holds him down.

“Where is she?!” He screams in his face.

“Ha.” Jungkook punches him again, his face turning another color.

“I’ll fucking kill you.” He whispers, threatening with no mercy.

“Good luck.” He shoots back and Jungkook has it. He punches him until he can’t feel his own hand, determined to end his life right in this moment but stops when he’s pulled back by someone.

“Enough. Jungkook, enough.” It’s Yoongi, holding him back with both arms while Jungkook tries to fight back, wanting to see life flash before this person’s eyes for what they did to you.

“They have Y/N. I need to go.” Jungkook walks out, while the rest of Bangtan fight off the rest. He feels helpless walking around their property, no sign of you. Jungkook feels like he’s been walking for ages, until he finds an opening in the left building. He runs in, being met with pitch black. He’s almost about to walk out, determined you aren’t in here when he hears a muffled scream.

“Y/N!?” He calls out your name, the muffled scream turning louder and louder when Jungkook steps further in and finally he crouches down, able to feel you. Out of instinct he hugs you, comforting you with all he has, all while his own body is aching, trying its best to hold itself up.

“I’m here, I got you. It’s okay. I got you.” Jungkook keeps repeating, feeling you shake against his bruised skin. With every last power he has, Jungkook lifts you up, dragging you outside.

It’s then that he notices your forehead bleeding, arms covered in bruises. It breaks his heart to see you like this. He removes the restraints behind your back, ripping off the duct tape from your lips.

“Jungkook.” His name falls out of your lips, as you fall in his embrace, crying out the shock you’ve been met with.

“Who did this to you?!” He whisper-yells, wanting to hurt that person badly.

“It’s okay, Jungkook. I’m just glad you’re here.” You manage to say, your voice a bit broken from being restrained. Somehow your words calm him. You’re right, he’s here, he’s with you now. Everything is going to be okay.

“I love you.” Jungkook whispers, grabbing your face gently as he embraces it. He was so scared of losing you, forever. He’d never be able to live with himself.

“I love you.” You repeat, meaning every word as hug him again, inhaling the familiar scent that feels like home.

#jungkook fic #jungkook fanfic #bts jungkook fic #bts jungkook fanfic #jungkook imagine #bts jungkook drabble #bts fan fic #bts fanfiction #bts fanfic

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sencity · 10 months

Text

monomania . . ☪︎︎

a yandere is often sweet, caring, and innocent before switching into someone who displays an extreme, often violent or psychotic, level of devotion to a love interest. they becomes feisty and mentally destructive in nature through over protectiveness, violence, brutality or all three combined. a yandere is mentally unstable and uses extreme violence or brutality as an outlet for their emotions.

therefore, this section of the blog will contain gore, suicidal/homicidal tendencies, rape, graphic intrusive thoughts, sex, possessive/obsessive behavior, manipulation, stalking and more. your best bet is to turn tail and forfeit if you're too uncomfortable to advance. don't say i didn't warn you...

poet!fem yandere (oc).

“Poets are aesthetes that will immortalize your body with their touch alone, enabling a sensational desire that you’re completely unfamiliar with. So, would you be so kind as to be my eternal, personal muse? My…my inspiration and will? I promise that you’ll dwell in an everlasting state of heaven, hun.” — Amunet Musa.

oc reference/information.

headcanons, sfw … headcanons, nsfw.

botanist!male yandere (oc).

“You can call me delusional all you want, but I truly wish we become butterflies in our next life, fluttering around sucking the sweet nectar from pistils. Delusions are dreams that never come true, dummy. I’m realistically making you my plant, casing you in a small greenhouse to cater for you forever and ever…” — Sencha Villosa.

oc reference/information.

headcanons, sfw … headcanons, nsfw.

fashion designer!male yandere (coming soon).

“There is nothing crazy about me wanting you. I mean, just look at you. You have an amazing physical appearance. All I need to do is mold your personality to my liking, which shouldn't be too difficult. You also have the beauty that would make a guy worship but also kill, so it’s expected for me to torture your neighbor, really.” — Kahán Hikahële.

oc reference/information.

headcanons, sfw … headcanons, nsfw.

scammer!fem yandere (coming soon).

“Na, I’m serious, don(a). I’ve put so much trust in you to the point where all I have is uncertainty. I’d love to tell you the truth, but you have to return the trust in order for me to be honest again. Right now, I can’t even speak without feeling remorseful. I love you, cariño. Si... te amo....y tu me amas. Solo no quieres admitir eso, amor. Pero no te preocupes. Lo voy a probar. Porque… te amo…” — Sorrel Corzo.

oc reference/information.

headcanons, sfw … headcanons, nsfw.

miscellaneous

obsessive!yandere x narcissistic!darling (reblog)

botanist!yandere x entomologist!darling (ask’s/drabble)

poet!yandere x plus sized!dependent darling (ask’s/drabble)

the yanderes’ bdsm test scores.

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lost-walmartbag · 8 months

Text

Marjorine x reader pt 8

Playlist

Warning: Swearing, transphobia, violence

Background: Marjorine's parents hold a funeral for their 'son'.

Previous part

Funeral

Marjorine instinctively held you close wrapping her arms around your waist as she tried lifting you up to the surface. You raised a hand up which Kenny grabbed pulling you up.

You two weren't under for long but you both were fucking freezing. You both gasped for air shivering as the cold water dripped from your bodies.

"Oh fuck you two what the hell were you thinking!" Kenny yelled as he took off his jacket and draped it over you both.

"Dude I came as soon as I- Is that Marj?" Kyle said as he ran over.

"H-hi Kyle," Marjorine said still holding onto you closely for warmth that wasn't doing much because you were also colder than death.

"Dude, we thought you were dead! Oh, I mean, girl? I don't know. Can I still say 'dude'?" Kyle said, helping you and Marj up on your feet as he and Kenny led you to Kyle's car.

"D-dead w-why would you t-think I was dead?" She asked as she shivered.

"Your mom was calling the whole fucking town saying you were in an accident." Kenny said helping Marj into the backseat.

Marj was taken aback, but she knew she shouldn't be. It made sense. Her parents always hated her, being trans only added to it.

She stayed quiet and looked down at her lap. You noticed her quietness and reached out, holding her hand.

"We'll fix this. I'll fix this." You said kissing her hand softly.

"What's the point? I should have seen his coming but fuck I thought maybe...god, I don't even know what I fucking thought." She said as tears filled her eyes.

You stayed quiet. You knew nothing you could say would help her feel better. You knew what you had to do and when you looked up to meet Kyle's and Kenny's eyes in the rearview mirror, you knew they did too.

That night, you let Marj sleep at your place. You had a project you wanted to work on but that wasn't as important as Marj. She was sitting in your bed in pajamas you had made. You made her cuddle into the blankets with a cup of hot cocoa.

"You all warm now?" You whispered looking over at her.

"Yeah, I'm ok.." She muttered looking down at her cup.

"Everything's gonna be ok you know that, right Marj? I know it's hard. They fucking suck but I promise I'll make this right for you." You reached for one of her hands and squeezed it tightly.

"I just want to go to bed.." She whispered, looking away putting her cup on the nightstand, and lying down.

You got off the bed and looked down at her. She was facing the wall and you could hear her soft sniffles. You got into be with her and gently tranced patterns on her back with gentle fingers.

She stayed like this for weeks. She wouldn't go to school and because of it, people believed what they had heard from her parents. You told everyone she wasn't dead but it didn't seem to do much. Every morning you woke up to go to school to the minute you got back home Marj stayed in the same spot in your bed.

You had to beg her to eat or shower. She was spiraling and you couldn't do anything but watch.

You sat on the bed, gently stroking her hair when you heard a knock on your bedroom door.

"I'll be back ok hun?" You whispered down at Marj who didn't say anything in response.

You walked over to the door and stepped out of the room when you saw the look on Kenny's face.

"They're having a funeral.."

"What? Are you fucking kidding me?"

"It's tonight. They invited the entire town to 'pay their respects'."

"How the fuck did we not find out until now?" You asked in disbelief.

"They tried their best not to let it get out to her friends, but they couldn't help themselves from posting about it." Kenny said with a sigh as he ran a hand through his hair.

"what time?"

"5"

"5? it's fucking 4:30." You said as your blood boiled inside you. "Well, we have to fucking go."

"What about Marj?"

"You stay with her. I need to go." You said walking away without a second thought.

"Y/N!" Kenny shouted after you but you didn't turn back.

How could they do this? Put Marj through hell and have the nerve to make everyone think a tragedy happened to them? You slipped into your shows and angrily walked to where the funeral was being held.

When you arrived you looked around. Everything was beautifully decorated. There was a closed casket with a large portrait of Marj next to it. No. it wasn't Marj. It was Butters. You stared at the picture. The one you knew Marj hated.

He was standing in front of a blank white wall, with short hair, and no smile. They couldn't even choose a better picture of her. What made it worse was you saw Marj's parents crying next to the casket.

You wanted to run up there the second you saw but they started talking. Her mother took the microphone and started speaking.

"Thank you so much for coming everyone...Leopold would have been so happy to see how much you all cared about him. He was a perfect son. friend. and just amazing boy." She said through sobs.

You couldn't help but notice how much emphasis she put on 'Leopold, him, son, and boy'. You looked over and saw Kyle sitting next to his mother. He was angry as you were and you knew it.

"We need time to heal from this but nothing will ever stop us from loving Leopol-"

"That's not her name!" You shouted causing every head to turn back to you. "Her name is Marjorine and she isn't fucking dead!"

"Who the hell are you?" Her father said as he stomped over to you.

"I'm her fucking friend and just so everyone knows she isn't dead! these fucking assholes hated her because she's a girl!"

"How fucking dare you!" Her father barked out raising his hand to strike you.

You closed your eyes waiting for contact to be made, but it never happened. A collective gasp rang through the building and when you opened your eyes you saw her. Marj was holding onto her father's wrist and pushed him away from you.

"Don't you dare touch her." She said with a scratchy voice.

"Marj, what the hell are you doing here?" You whispered, looking up at her.

"I couldn't sulk in your bed forever. Kenny told me what was happening and told me you came here. This isn't your battle to fight." She whispered, gently stroking your cheek.

"No! Leopold is dead!" Her mother screamed, returning the focus to herself again.

Marj turned to her mother and frowned. "You're right. He is dead. It's Marjorine now."

"No! No! NO!" She screamed pushing over the portrait. "I had a son, not a daughter!"

"You didn't love either so why the fuck does it matter?" Marj said causing her mother to lunge at her.

You stepped up and pushed her down to the floor and started swinging. Of course, you weren't accustomed to fighting so she did manage to get a few hits on you but from the anger you felt you couldn't stop. How dare she do this to Marj? She had to pay in some way.

It took Kenny, Kyle, and Marj to pull you off her mom. She stayed on the floor with a broken nose and black eye. You felt pleased with your work even though your knuckles hurt like hell.

"Y/N come on calm down let's get you out of here," Kyle said as they dragged you away.

You let them take you away. Everyone who had attended the funeral turned on Marj's parents, shaming them for what they did. Kyle and Kenny ranted about what you had done and how you could have gotten yourself hurt even more. Marj was quiet.

You were standing outside with Marj while Kyle and Kenny were looking inside for ice to put on your knuckles. You turn to Marj seeing her staring at the ground.

"I'm sorry I um...punched your mom."

"You did a lot more than that." She said with a chuckle and shaking her head making you blush.

"She was gonna hit you..." You mumbled.

"I think this fills in my end of our agrangment."

"What do you mean?"

"Y/N. You crashed a funeral without a second thought. Everyone was staring at you and you got into a full-blown fistfight with a middle-aged woman." She said with a giggle.

You blushed harder and looked away from her but she just tilted your chin to look at her.

"Thank you." She whispered looking down into your eyes. "No one has done anything half as amazing as you've done for me for the past months."

"Marj...I love you..I would do anything. You deserve to be happy...When we first met you were so bright. Like staring into the sun."

She laughed and looked away as a light blush crept on her cheeks. "The sun?"

"Just like the sun...I'm sorry about your parents."

"They'd rather hold a funeral for a son they never had rather than cherish the daughter that was always here. I know who my family is and it isn't them." She said looking back down at you with a small smile. "I love you too Y/N"

"You do?"

"Yeah." She said before pressing her lips against yours.

A/N: Thank you so much for reading my series! I love you all so much and as always I love all of you with all my heart! 🩷

#south park #south park x reader #fanfic #south park x you #x reader #sp marjorine #south park marjorine #kenny mccormick #kyle broflovski

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snobgoblin · 11 months

Note

Ace brings you on a park date but it ends up going horribly wrong. BUT he ends up making up for it by getting the both of you slushies(and possibly getting brainfreezes because you were being dumb together)

x SIR YES SIR 🫡 /GENDER NEUTRAL

CHAOTIC ACE (GORILLAZ) X READER

rated: E for extra unsexy. but there is a lot of swearing. warning for some cartoon violence

plot: girl read the ask

OH GOD OH FUCK

AAAAA WAUGGHHHHH BEES BEES HOLY FUCKING BALL SACK

record scratch

yep. that's me. y/n. guess you're wondering how I got into this mess huh. well it all started when this FUCKING DUMBASS DECIDED THAT BEEHIVES WERE NATURES MAILBOXES.

NOW YOURE RUNNING FROM BEES. Well at least it was romantic before that. before... Ace decided he would get you a pet fish from the pond. (he messed up his hair for u. you should feel loved) you said that you thought it was cute so he just straight up jumped in there and grabbed it for u. you are currently holding it in a grocery bag full of water as you run from bees. it is a miracle it hasn't popped yet. oh shit I spoke too soon. guess what happened. you split off from Ace and instead run back to the pond, holding a slippery fish in your hands. it keeps falling onto the ground. STAY STILL DUMB THING! YOURE TRYING TO SAVE ITS LIFE! it's ok, it's ok. you jumped into the pond, the fish swam away, and the bees decided you had drowned and dissipated, you saw this from the murky water. GREAT! NOW YOUR EYES STING! you're gonna get pinkeye or gonorrhea or something idk man. at least the bees are gone. some animal crossing logic shit

anyway you flopped onto the sidewalk very ungracefully kind of like a sopping wet towel and you laid there for a little bit. THIS DAY HAS BEEN AWFUL. you were tired so you passed out

When you woke up Ace was crouched down. Something VERY WRONG with his face. OH. BEE STINGS. poor thing. You open your mouth but you're cut off by "YEAH YEAH, SAVE IT. Now come on let's ditch this joint." he stood up and looked away. almost hiding his face. was he embarrassed?

You tried to get up. but you were stuck to the got dang concrete. "gonna need a shovel hun. scrape me off like I'm an egg on a nonstick pan"

"On it toots."

So he got a fucking shovel from the graveyard and scraped you off the damn conk rete

ouch well say goodbye to a few layers of skin. and your brain here in a second it looks like the residents of the graveyard were not happy at all Ace stole their shovel. you point behind Ace, he looks, and he just walks away. if it sucks hit da bricks. "nope. nuh uh. they can wobble and limp toward me all they want but I ain't gonna give them the satisfaction of catching me. NOPE. and I'm keeping the shovel too." and he did. and he held your hand and simply walked away with the shovel

"Hun, I am SO sorry this date didn't go how I wanted it to. This shoulda been something we never wanted to end, and now I'm just relieved to be home" Ace kinda mumbled

You put a hand on his shoulder. he flinched and yelped. BEE STINGS. RIGHT. "Doesn't have to be all bad. Let's get some ice for your face. and your tummy"

"That sounds nice."

So you walked to the nearest gas station, jumpscared the clerk, and got some slushies. You both sat in the parking lot and watched the sun go down. Ace held his drink to his cheek, which was particularly swollen. "Least today can't get any worse."

Then you both took a drink and got the worst brainfreeze of your lives

#ace copular x reader #ace copular #ace gorillaz #ace x reader #fanfiction #PLEAAAASE READ THIS ONE ITS SO FUNNY #anon #asks

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boogiewrites · 1 year

Text

Seeing Stars Pt 18

Star shows Eddie the most unambiguous sign of true love his cynical eyes have ever seen. A chapter of fights, revenge, and falling in love.

TW: Use of the f slur by a bully. Canon typical violence, 3-on-1 fight. Panic attacks from bullying/PTSD triggered. Cleaning/patching up after a fight. Snuggling for comfort. Protective Eddie. Major Hurt/Comfort.

Part 1 if you missed it!

Star was sipping her soda, her lipstick leaving a red ring around the straw while she watched the boys she called her closest friends argue about whether the two albums they were looking forward to this month, Black Sabbath or April Wine would have the better record. Eddie was firmly planted in Black Sabbath and damn near screeching with a pointed finger at his bandmates.

The appearance of someone behind enemy lines walking up to their table made everyone freeze and turn to look at his appearance. It was hard to miss the guy, he was a basketball player and one of Jason’s puppies that followed him around.

“Hey.” He got out with a nod, nervous glances at the intimidating mid-argument faces glaring at him. Star sipped her soda and having reached the bottom she broke the silence with a noisy inhale through her straw, eyes up at the familiar face. Everyone stopped to look at each other now, confusion taking over as he wasn’t calling them crude insults.

“Did you come over here to stand and blot out the sun, you behemoth or are you gonna say something?” Eddie asked the large athlete.

“Uh, no I came to talk to her.” He nodded to Star whose chin pushed into her neck in surprise.

“She’s got a name you know.” Eddie spat back out.

“Yeah. Star.” He looked at Eddie with genuine puzzlement. Eddie’s tone surprised no one, even if this hadn’t been the guy that had slipped notes into Star's locker all year that she’d been avoiding, he would’ve been just a bitey.

“What is it?” She asked with a neutral voice, sitting her empty can away.

“Could I talk to you?”

“You are.” She stated plainly with a nod.

“I mean can we go somewhere and talk?”

Eddie's eyes shoot to Star dissecting her every reaction. Star narrowed her eyes, but subtly. She let the question hang in the air, long enough to make him squirm.

“I’m going to be honest with you. I don’t trust you. I don’t trust your friends. I’m not going to go anywhere alone with you. So you can ask what you want here or wait.” She shrugged casually and the guy started to sweat. His face went through stages of grief and landed on acceptance as Star openly stared him down.

“Okay.” He said with disappointment clear in his voice. He cleared his throat, hand to his mouth before shoving them in his pockets. “I uh-have seen you dance before.” Star blinked and awkward judgemental smiles started to sprout among the guys around her. “And you’re good at it. And…” his eyes shot to Eddie who had sat back and crossed his arms, legs spread to take up space as the tiny in comparison man intimidated the much large one with only a look. His eyes switch back to Star as he scratched his head nervously. “And I think you’re hot. And-“Star's mouth rolled into a tight line, holding in a laugh. She couldn’t believe the guy was going through with it. “And there’s the valentine’s dance coming up and I wanted to ask you to go with me.” He said quickly to get it out and over with.

Star sucked her teeth and let out a loud sigh, pity on her face.

“Oh hun, no. That’s not gonna happen.”

“You like to dance. It’s a dance.” He said as if that should change her mind.

“Brandon, let me be clear. No.” She stated with praying hands that chopped down. “I’ve avoided you and your notes all year because the answer is no. I’ve been subtle and that isn’t your strong suit. Your consistent insistence that you liking me is a reason for me to give you a chance is very stalker-esque and not to mention sexist. I owe you nothing. I won’t go to any dance with you or date you or give you a drunken hand job out of pity. Let it go, big guy.” She pat his arm condescendingly and shooed him away with her hand. He turned bright red and watched the other guys covering their mouths to not laugh.

“Why do you give them a chance and not me, huh?” He motioned to the table.

“They’re my friends. They’ve had more interactions with me than writing poorly edited notes and telling me I’m hot. They know me as a person, not some predictable weird girl fetish they think they want. They aren’t trying to fuck me to fulfill some misogynist fantasy. I trust them. I don’t trust you. I don’t trust your friends. I trust mine.” She stated again. Not raising her voice and sticking to facts but it still bruised his ego.

“W-well what about him?” He pointed to Eddie like a child and he noticeably sat up and back in retort.

“What about him?” Star became louder and more challenging.

“You’re fucking him.” He blurted out.

“And?” She said confirming and challenging someone 4 times her size.

“Why him? He’s a fuckin freak and I’m a nice guy and -“

“Imma stop you right there you numb nuts Clydesdale.” She had a single finger pointed at him and the guys shared a sibling-like grin of watching another kid get in trouble with your mom. “You answered your own question in 3 sentences.” She snapped. “He’d never call someone a freak like that.” She glared up fearlessly into the overgrown toddler's eyes.

“What’s he got that I don’t have?” He asked genuinely and angrily. She shook her head and frowned.

“Do you really want to do this to yourself in front of everyone? You’ve got an audience now.” Her tight expression, not overly emotional scared him.

“Yeah, I wanna know.”

“Fine. He’s the opposite of you. Is that what you want?” She leaned forward. “I like him. I don’t like you.” She tapped her finger to her palm to emphasize her points. “He knows no means no and consent isn’t a big word he doesn’t understand!” She raised her voice. “If those words are all too big for you, I want to fuck him and I don’t want to fuck you. Since sex seems to be all you cavemen give a shit about.” She sat back and huffed out an angry sound.

“You’re a-fat ugly bitch.” She sputtered out. “Jason was right about you. I was just trying to be nice.” He turned and stomped off.

“If I had a dollar for every time someone called me a fat ugly bitch I could buy a damn house, am I right ladies?” She raised a brow at the group of girls sitting at the table next to them and a giggle ran through them.

“Tell me about it.” One snorted out in agreement.

“Just another day living as a woman.” She turned and put her elbows on the lunch table.

“You’re not gonna punch him?” Dustin asked, knowing she fought a guy almost as big before.

“No, he’s not worth it. He’s stupid as shit.” She chuckled.

“You’re not a fat ugly bitch by the way,” Gareth added in without eye contact but feeling bad for her.

“Don’t go pretending to be sweet on my behalf, I’m fine.” She smiled.

“You might’ve got insulted but I think you complimented Eddie so much his ego is gonna make his head explode.” Mike grinned.

“I mean.” Eddie shrugged and let out a genuine bashful laugh as he looked to the table to avoid eye contact. “That was very nice of you Star.” He swung his head her way and she rolled her eyes but the smile told him she meant it.

“It was all true. Guessing stroking your ego is natural to me now since I’ve been stroking your-“

“Hey! Oh!” Eddie tutted and covered her mouth. “Children are present let’s not.”

“We know she meant your dick dude,” Dustin said deadpan. It sent the older friends into a cackle.

They were already healed and back to enjoying their lives again. But across the lunchroom, a wounded group of jocks was stewing in their not-so-stroked egos.

If there was one thing Star wouldn’t miss about high school it was gym. She hated everything about it. No amount of naked girls in the locker room could make up for the loathing the rest of the experience caused her. She wasn’t a gifted athlete. She couldn’t hit a ball with a bat to save her life. She couldn’t remember choreography. And her aim was self-admittedly shit. So when dodgeball was announced as the game of the day she groaned into her hands amongst the cheers of the rest of the class.

Star was jumpy and paranoid without the threat of balls being launched at her face. And this was in no scenario in which that statement could be interpreted as fun. The only time she wanted balls hitting her in the face was during a sloppy blow job.

She’d tried to purposely get hit at first. But the gym teacher caught on and made her get back out on the floor unless it looked like she was trying. So she was. She was avoiding a ricocheting ball by running toward the middle of the court. A vengeful Jason, angry at her for making his friend look bad had been watching her, waiting for an opportunity. He ran forward as she was distracted, and when he was within arm's distance of her he yelled her name, causing her to turn to look his way before he pelted her right in the face as hard as he could.

Those balls seem like they wouldn’t hurt that badly. Their big and bouncy and make a fun noise when they hit something. They seem innocent enough. But anything when hurled at your face from 3 feet away by someone who handles balls for a pastime. Insert joke here. It’s going to ruin your day.

Star got knocked flat on her ass as she felt her nose throb. Everyone let out a mix of amused and concerned ‘ohs’ when she hit the ground.

“What the FUCK?” She shouted and put her hand to her nose. Jason strutted up to her and looked down at her.

“You’re out.” He smirked.

“Your balls are gonna be out of your mouth.” She growled. He had enough time to look confused before she used her angle to her advantage and kicked him in the balls. He doubled over and there they both sat on the shiny hardwood floor, each holding their injuries.

Jason groaned and gritted out strings of half-words that were all insults. Star sat and watched his friends try to help him up but his knees wouldn’t work yet. It was no surprise to Star that no one had come to pick her up.

“If you want to be able to have kids. Don't fucking hit me, dude. I didn’t do anything to you, you asshole.”

“You’re a bitch.” He grunted.

“Again with this? I haven’t even talked to you. What the hell is your problem?”

“Brandon.”

“Oh come ON.” She groaned loudly. “You hit me because I turned down your friend? That’s fucked up man, even for you.”

“He was trying to be nice and ask you out. The guy likes your weird ass for some reason.” Star was standing now and Jason wasn’t risking being left on the floor, his friends trying to help him up.

“I told him no. I gave him reasons. I answered his questions. What more do you fucking want from me?”

“Go out with him.”

“Go fuck yourself.” She rolled her eyes.

“I’m serious,” he took a deep breath. “He’d be good for you. You’re a mess star. You’re with the wrong crowd.”

“Again. Go. Fuck. Yourself.”

“I hate to see a pretty girl with so much potential have such a nasty mouth.”

“Fuck you, you fucking fuck.” She bit back.

“Munsons a bad influence. You’re gonna catch something you know that?” He was standing now but still bent.

“You’re one of the most ignorant brainwashed people I’ve ever had the displeasure of meeting.”

“You’re the one who’s brainwashed! Those guys, that club, they’re no good.”

“They are good which is ironic. They were my friends when no one else would be. They don’t hit me in the face and insult me. Why would I hang out with people who want to hurt me when I have a group of good people I trust? What don’t you get?”

“C’mon. Good? Them? Munson?” He scoffed. “Kids a freak. He kills cats you know.”

“He loves cats!” She screeched defensively. “He wouldn’t hurt a fly!”

“You expect me to believe a guy that looks like that is good? That he’s worth your time? I don’t know what you see in him, Star. You need to ditch him. He’s got a reputation. His whole family does. His dad's in jail. His mom was an addict. He sells drugs. Lives in a trailer park? I mean come on the guy's a loser.”

Star got so close to Jason that he stumbled back and put her nose right to his.

“You keep their names out of your fucking mouth you ignorant piece of shit.” She reared back and spit on his shirt. “Eddie’s a better man than you could even think of being. He’s smarter than you. He’s funnier. He’s kinder. He's more of a man than you ever will be.”

“Aw, the freaks are in love, you guys.” They all mockingly awed.

“And what if we were? It has nothing to do with you! What we do affects you in no way. Why do you care? We don’t care about you!”

“Yeah, you do you’re getting all emotional right now.”

“Have you ever noticed how we never go after you guys? We’re always acting in retaliation to you? Happy people? Us? They don’t go around worrying about what other people are doing and wanting to make them feel bad for no reason.”

“People like him don’t deserve to be happy.” Star blinked in shock at the honesty.

“You are pathetic. Brainwashed. Pitiful tiny little shadow of a person. I feel so bad for you.”

“I feel bad for you! That’s what I’m saying!” He entirely missed her point. “You need someone like us to make you see you’re the one that’s brainwashed! And it’s okay, you're a girl, it happens. But Munson? He’s a born-and-bred loser. You need someone like Brandon, who’s from good parents, and has real moral values. He can set you straight.”

“I don’t need your help. I sure as hell don’t need Brandon. I have what I need. And that’s Eddie.” She said it without thinking. Talking straight from her gut and trusting it would tell her what she needed to hear. It delivered. “I would choose that so-called loser over you any day. Every time he wins. In any scenario. He beats you. Always. He’s better than you in every way. And that kills you. Eats you up inside. Because you’re scared and you’re afraid of things that are different from you. And that’s why he’s better. Because he’s everything you aren’t. Everything you wish you could be but are too afraid to because what would other people think? What if people see the real you and realize you’re nothing? An imposter. A bunch of hot air inside with no real value. Nothing of worth. Not worthy of love or friendship. You envy Eddie. Who is openly himself. He has friends that love him. The real him. He has the love and the freedom you wish you had. You’re so fucking predictable. All of you. All the same. Enjoy these last months of high school because this is your peak. This is as soon as it gets for you.” She spits out the venom with her words and said them so close to his face he could feel the heat from her breath. She knew guys like Jason. They were all the same. She cut hard into him and it felt so good to see the spark of worry that she might be right in his eyes. The fear of how did she know that’s what I’m scared of.

“She’s hopeless.” Jason blurts out, defensive, voice cracking under someone getting into his head.

“Then leave me alone,” she growled before storming off.

Jason was a little spooked by Star’s words. He didn’t like that someone knew his weaknesses and that they said them out loud so other people could hear. He had heard she was a witch and being who he was, he fueled his anger with a sense of righteousness. He broke away from his group, following out to the parking lot to see what Star did after their altercation. What he saw only made him angrier. He saw Eddie sweep in with the caring face that she had claimed he had. He held her face and pulled her towards him, a hand to her cheek as she sighed and explained, her fingers stroking the fabric of his jacket on his biceps where they held him back. He saw the tenderness, the kindness, the love between them. They shared a kiss they both laughed through as Eddie stroked her face and hair, kissing the tip of her nose where it was starting to bruise. They held each other for a moment, he saw Eddie’s face hold both anger and softness and Jason grew angry that he could feel both at the same time. The fact that they were just as happy as she claimed made him furious. Eddie Munson was beneath him. He didn’t deserve to have someone love him like that. Especially not someone that was conventionally attractive. Guys like him didn’t deserve it. That’s what he’d been told his whole life. He was compelled to do something to take it away. What he didn’t know, however, is you should never seek vengeance against a witch who knows how to protect herself and those she cares about. Because it will backfire. Jason was going to learn that soon.

Eddie was swearing and catching all the shit falling out of his locker like it did almost every time he opened it. He caught the slide of stacked books in his arms, noticing a note that sat on top. He grabbed it in his teeth and shoved the books back inside forcefully. Turning his back to his locker, he opened it to find it was from Star.

“Meet me after work out back. I’ve got a surprise for you, babe.” it was signed with a sloppy star and a heart. He smirked before chuckling. Babe was new. Was she trying to flirt? Set a tone? The heart made him annoyingly hopeful. He shoved it into his jacket pocket and headed home to be anxious the entire evening.

It was late, Eddie was wearing the mix of oils and cologne Star loved. He was looking forward to having her bury her face in his neck, comedically inhale and groan and bite him. He itched for her touch the whole evening, stomach fluttering with nervousness he couldn't explain.

Star was woken up out of her nap by a wave of nausea. She curled up and groaned, feeling nothing rise in her throat but the pain in her stomach stayed. She got out of bed and had tea as the sun set, sitting on her front porch, overlooking the treeline and field but the usual calm that it brought wasn’t coming. It stayed with her all evening, sitting in the doorway of her small bathroom and sucking on peppermint sticks to try to ease it, but it never manifested into throwing up and never went away. If anything it got worse. She started sweating, not even the January air stopping it as she let herself get too cold outside in an attempt to ease it. She wondered if she had food poisoning for a moment, but she’d been emptying out in one way or another if she were. She decided to call Eddie. See if he felt bad, if he did maybe they were getting sick. Or maybe he could come over and be a distraction. She felt compelled to be with him when she felt bad. The phone rang to no answer. She even left a shouting message, thinking he was asleep or in the bathroom, and still, no one picked up. She became restless, well into the night now she paced, feeling like she might crawl out of her skin. She decided to take a drive, letting her intuition take her where it wanted. She felt better in the car, the window cracked and the radio on. She headed towards town with no real idea of what was up with her.

Eddie didn’t see Star’s car when he pulled into a nearly empty parking lot. The diner was dark inside as he pulled in. He saw Steve’s car on the street outside Family Video. He thought maybe he’d given her a ride. Eddie trotted up the back alley of the diner, that nervousness building again. He stood under the street light where he’d watched Star argue with the line cook. Eddie lit a cigarette and shifted his weight from his heels to his knees. He heard footsteps from the other end of the alley, expecting Star or Steve to appear, maybe both since his car was still around. The silhouette wasn’t familiar and Eddie felt a shiver come over him. Jason came into view with a smug smile on his face.

“I see you got my note.” he stood confidently with his hands on his hips.

“Oh shit,” Eddie said under his breath.

“For once we agree, Munson.” two more silhouettes began to grow in the distance and Eddie felt his stomach drop out of his ass.

“So you wrote the note?” his voice gave away nothing, a plume of smoke escaping in the exhale after.

“Of course I did, why would Star want to see you?”

“Because she likes me.” he gave a cocky smile, eyes bright in the shadows as he let the cherry of his cigarette light up his features with an eerie orange glow in the low light of the alley. “And I think that really chaps your ass, Carver.” he chuckled.

“She doesn’t like you. I’ve heard her say so.”

“That’s interesting because when she’s begging me for more in bed she says some very, sweet things to me. I bet you can imagine.” Eddie was terrified, but he wouldn’t lose the mental game. That was something he refused to do.

“I don’t know why she’d even touch you.” his cheeks began to grow red.

“You wanna find out big boy? I’m very good with my hands.” he winked.

“Don’t even joke about that faggot shit.”

“I don’t think I could handle all three at once but, your boys can watch like they usually do.” he grinned.

“I said shut up!” he moved towards him now, trying to intimidate him. When Eddie remained relaxed, appearing unbothered and looking Jason up and down it made him start to sweat.

“What’s wrong Jason? What’s got you wound so tight?”

“You.”

“Little 'ol me? Well, I didn’t do nothin’.” he flicked his cigarette away. “Except Star.” he turned with a villainous charming smile. He started to laugh as Jason's nose twitched. “You HAVE a girlfriend Jason. Your little Chrissy. Why are you trying to intimidate me over a girl?” his easygoing laugh burned Jason's cheeks. “Oh. Oh, no does SHE like me too? So you wanna take my girl away? As cute as Chrissy’s little ass is I still think I’d stick with Star, thanks though.” he patted him on the arm and Jason grabbed his forearm hard. It hurt, but Eddie didn’t show it.

“You don’t talk about Chrissy.” He growled.

“I could tell you to shut the fuck up about Star too.” Eddie straightened his posture. “What the fuck is your problem, man? You’ve got yours. Just let me have mine.”

“No.” he snapped. “People like you don’t get to be happy.”

“Well shit, tell me how you really feel.” he snorted.

“You’re going to learn that people like you don’t get what they want. You don’t get Star, you don’t get your friends. You’ve been having it too good lately Munson.”

“Yeah, I thought it was going pretty good myself.” he nodded. “You think beating me up is gonna stop that?”

“Y–yeah.” he stuttered. “If you’ve got the shit beat out of you maybe it'll knock you down a few pegs. You won't be able to protect Star or your friends. She’ll see you’re a loser who isn’t as big of a man as she thinks.”

“If you think beating me up will turn Star away you’re a fucking idiot. It’ll do the opposite. And then she’ll come after you.”

“Am I supposed to be afraid of her?” he laughed.

“You should be.”

“She gonna put a spell on me?” he cackled.

“Yeah,” Eddie answered without an ounce of laughter. That did scare Jason a bit.

“You’re all freaks. You deserve each other.”

“Do I deserve her or not here, dude? You’re giving me whiplash. I’m starting to think you don’t even know why you’re doing this.” he laughed and shook his head.

“You don’t deserve to be happy.” he gritted out.

“Listen, if you’re gonna beat my ass just get it the fuck over with. Because I’ll go to Star and she’s going to wait on me hand and foot like a fucking baby. She’s going to be so mad she’ll rain down hell on all of you. It’ll make us closer, she’ll love me even more. And I think you know that. Deep down. That you can’t do anything to take that away from me, so you’re resulting to hurting me physically because you can’t hurt my feelings.”

“Maybe so. But she’s not as good as you think she is. Do you think she’s going to stay with you here? She’s not from here. Nothing is keeping her here. She’s smarter than you, she’ll go to college and leave your dumb ass here to rot in that trailer. I think she’s with you because she feels sorry for you. You know how girls are, they see a hurt dog and they want to help it. That’s you. You’re the dog.” For the first time, Jason hurt Eddie’s feelings. It was only for a moment, tapping into a worry he’d had from the moment he laid eyes on her.

“I think we’ll leave together. And pursue the things we want in life. And we’ll be successful because we’re good people who work hard. We’ll be happy. We might do the whole, marriage and kids thing. Who knows? And I think you’ll still be here. You’ll probably marry Chrissy and have some kids. Close to 30 you’ll start losing those boyish looks. You’ll lose your hair, you’ll get fat, and spend your time rehashing the glory days and being miserable. Chrissy won’t love you anymore, because you’ll hate yourself. Because one day you’ll wake up and realize you never made a single decision in your life for yourself. You only did what other people wanted. You’ll have a crisis and maybe buy a car you can’t afford because you’re not as smart or talented as you thought you were so things aren’t turning out how you wanted. You’ll drink too much, you won’t know how to relate to your kids. They’ll probably be the opposite of you. They’ll be like me. And you’ll hate them for it. And they’ll hate you because they know their dad's good-for-nothing bully who doesn’t know how to handle his emotions. One day you’ll have had too much to drink and one of them will say that. And you’ll hit them. And you’ll regret it. You might get divorced, or put a gun in your mouth about it. You’ll wish you were dead.” Eddie, like Star, could read people. And people as transparent as a high school jock weren’t hard to know how to scare them. Because it’d been done so many times. He probably just repeated to him his own father’s life. And of course, he wouldn’t want to be like his father. But deep down he knew he was. “And there I’ll be, miles and miles away. Happy. Loved. Successful. Not having thought about you since I left this podunk town. You’ll have been dead to me for years.” he grinned. “I’ll have the life you wish you had. And you’ll be here, alone or dead. And either way, everyone around you will be better off for it.”

Jason landed the first hit. He’d made sure that point was made before they started this plan. Eddie, being the unhinged person he was laughed at the knock on the cheek.

“I think I struck a nerve.” he touched his cheek and laughed. Jason hit him in the stomach.” You’re so cute when you’re mad, princess.” he kept the smile on his face until he’d taken too many hits to count. -

Star was headed downtown, her heart racing, feeling on the verge of a panic attack. She wondered if she should stop and if she was finally going to be sick. She wished she was because then she could shake this looming feeling something bad was gonna happen. She’d rather have food poisoning.

She saw the diner in the distance, her focus on it, dark as she approached. She saw Eddie’s van first. She turned the wheel so hard the car made a noise of protest. She swung into the parking lot, swerved with a squeal, and gassed it when three Hawkins letterman jackets came into view. She made a line straight for the guys and slammed the brakes just as she got near them. The thunk of hitting one of them who had been frozen in fear by the headlight's appearance let her know she’d hit them. She launched out of the car, she was moving so quickly on instinct alone she blacked out. She saw the one who was hissing and clutching his leg, the others now stood and gawking, stuck in processing what was happening. She knew who they were. She made eye contact with Carver and launched herself at him. He ran, the other guy getting away, but she grabbed Jason by his jacket and was on him like a piranha in a flash. She had no idea what she said, she knew she used her long nails to try to gouge out his eyes. She failed but left scratches all over him. She’d gotten a few good hits in using surprise to her advantage. She kneed him in the crotch as she hit his head into the pavement by his hair. The other injured guy booked it out of the alley past them. Star looked at him for split second and Jason hauled back and slugged her in the face. It knocked her off him, the already sore and bruised nose now thoroughly split open.

Eddie hadn’t frozen like the three guys beating him up at the sound of Star’s tires squealing into the parking lot. He took the chance to pop his head up from his protective curled position. The headlights blinded him, but he saw the bright yellow paint glint and knew in a heartbeat who it was. He felt his body relax, seeing one guy now on the ground, his leg having taken the hit of her bumper against it. He lay hissing in pain as the others ran. He saw Star in a blur and knew from the fading blonde hair bouncing and the banshee screams that ripped into his ears that it was her. He sat up, letting his head rest against the brick wall. A sudden wave of exhaustion hit him, he felt sleepy, his entire body twitching from strain. He heard her growling and screaming, a guy's voice shouting back at her, pleading. Eddie knew he was in no shape to help her, but it sounded like she wasn’t being hurt, so he let himself sit there in the wet gravel and close his eyes. She was there, everything would be okay. His guard dog guardian angel had swooped in and he could rest for a moment.

She let out a frustrated sound as he scrambled away. She quickly turned, to her hands and knees before running and stumbling back to the hunched form against the alley wall. He was lit so beautifully like a baroque with her headlights. She choked out a sob, seeing his eyes fluttering about, closed.

“Eddie!” she squeaked, her throat feeling sore and raw. She hadn’t known it but she’d been screaming. He made a sound, she knew he was alive but that was all. “Eddie, baby, please.” hot fat tears built and fell in an instant. “No, no, no.” she cradled his head as her hands shook to wipe away the fresh blood on his face. “Not you, Eddie, no.” she kept chanting and repeating her words as they came to the forefront of her mind. “Eddie, baby, please. Open your eyes. Look at me, sweetie please.” she begged, a light slap to his cheek as she held his upper body in her arms.

“MMnnrrrggg.” he managed, eyes rolling in their sockets.

“C’mon Eddie, baby. Wake up for me. It’s your Star. It’s me, please. Look at me.” she rasped out crying.

“Ugh. Shit.” a little clearer, his brow furrowing before he hissed at the pain.

“Oh thank you.” she sobbed, holding him to her chest, her clothes covered in blood. She didn’t realize that most of it was hers. She looked up at the sky and thanked the bright moon. “Eddie, baby. Can you hear me?”

His eyes focused, one then the other as he looked up at her. She was silhouetted by the car lights, but he knew her touch, her smell, her shape through a veil of blood and tears. She smoothed his hair out of his face, in an attempt to soothe him.

“There he is.” she cried through a smile. “There’s my pretty boy.” The light hit his eyes in a way that made them warm amber. They glowed from within as they tried to focus on her face, feeling his hand reach up to hold her forearm.

“Star.” his voice was a whisper, trying to get his bearings but he was dizzy.

“Yeah, baby it’s me.” she leaned her nose to his so he could hear her. She wanted to squeeze him so tight their bodies fused into one, her whole body was alive and on fire, tingling and burning like her lungs.

“MMm.” he smiled and let his head rest in her hands, his cheek mushed. “Baby does feel nice,” he muttered and she giggled, wiping away at her tears as they started again.

“You silly man.” she kissed him, she didn’t care about the split lip and the blood. “We’re gonna get in my car and I’m gonna take you home okay?” she promised with her nose to his.

“Kay,” he grunted out, his hands slapping out to find purchase.

“Put all your weight on me, I’ve got you, don’t worry.” she touched him as gently as she could, thankful to not see any blood anywhere besides his face. She felt like the stories of mothers who suddenly have the strength of ten grown men when their child was in danger. She managed to get her car door open, Eddie let himself weigh against the car on his arm as she did so. He was slowly realizing he could use all his limbs and that even though they all hurt, they didn’t seem to be broken. He got into her passenger seat and looked at his hands. They were a bloody scraped mess, one finger looked a little crooked and he was concerned about that.

“You okay?” she shut and locked her door, turning to help him with the seatbelt. She wanted him upright.

“I mean… define okay,” he mumbled and touched his face, only finding more blood. He finally looked at her with fully open eyes. “Oh fuck, Star.” he reached out to her face and she jumped.

“I’m fine.” she gently took his hand and put it down.

“Have you seen your face?” he asked and she flipped down her visor.

“Shit.” she hissed. “Doesn’t matter.” she sighed and smacked it shut. “Do you need a hospital?” she looked over his legs, they were both moving, just like his arms.

“I'd rather just go home,” he admitted with a defeated exhale.

“Home or my place? Do you want Wayne to-”

“Yours.” he nodded and let his head rest on the seat. He wouldn’t want Wayne to see him like this until he had it all cleaned up. Star by far had the superior first aid setup out of the two of them.

“Can I drive? Are you okay?”

“I’m… here. Promise. Drive.” he sighed and let himself slouch. As soon as she was out of the parking lot she took his hand into hers. She held it tight and shuddered the whole ride home. He looked at it, a smile on his face. He knew he was right. Doing this would only make her care more. He lifted it and kissed it before putting it back onto his thigh with a rather content-sounding sigh, putting his other over it.

“I’m so sorry.” he heard the tears in her voice.

“What are you talking about?”

“If I hadn’t been so mean to him maybe he wouldn’t have-”

“This didn’t have anything to do with you.” It was partially a lie to make her feel better but he also knew Jason’s real issue was with himself, not anyone else.

“I don’t believe that. It was at my work. Why?”

“He left me a note pretending to be you. Told me to meet him here after work.”

“Motherfucker.” Star gritted out.

“I said much the same.” Eddie groaned. “What I’m more curious about now is how you knew where I was?” He saw her eyes squint and her head tilt as if she were weighing her options.

“I don’t really know how to answer that.”

“That cryptic answer makes me nervous so could you try?” he asked nicely.

“I didn’t know where you were. I woke up sick from a nap. I felt like I had food poisoning but I wasn’t getting sick from it. I tried calling you because I felt bad and you weren’t home. So I went for a drive to clear my head, and get some air and I didn’t think about it. The closer I got to town the more my stomach sank. I felt like I was going to have a panic attack, you know that feeling you get when you’re like, something bad is going to happen even if you don’t know what it is? That’s what it was. And I went into town and saw your van at the diner and I just…” she stopped and took a breath. “I just knew somehow. And there you were,” she said in a raspy whisper. She felt him squeeze her hand.

“My little witch.” he grinned and hummed. “First the shower. Now, this.” she felt his thumb rub comforting on her hand. Star was still twitchy and looking distressed. She was scared of the connection between them and what it meant.

“I’m… I’m still shaking.” she took in a deep inhale to steady herself. “I didn’t know if you were … fuck. That must’ve been what it was like finding me,” she whispered, he saw fresh tears rolling down her cheek. “Baby, I never wanted this to happen to you. I’m so sorry. I don’t care if you don’t want to hear that I’m sorry. I am. I don’t know why. I just am. These things aren’t supposed to happen to you. Nothing bad isn’t supposed to happen to you!” her voice cracked as her chest tightened. He felt warm and fuzzy from the outpouring of emotion trapped in the small space between them. How many times had she called him baby? He felt selfish wanting more.

“I’ll be okay. Shhhh.” he squeezed and kissed her hand. He brought a hand up her shoulder to rub it comfortingly. “We’re fine. I mean, not fine but we’ll be fine. Breathe.”

“I know. I’m s-.” she stopped herself and bit her lip. “I just don’t want anything bad to ever happen to you,” she whispered and another tear fell. He felt the burn, the threat of tears in his own eyes at the sight. He reached her cheek with his knuckle and wiped it away.

“Baby. I’m okay. Get us home. That’s all you have to do.” he said with that burn in his chest appearing again. She had thrown herself into a fight with three men, all bigger than her. She hit one with her car. She did not hesitate. She was willing to sacrifice herself, and her safety for him. That was the most unambiguous sign of true love Eddie knew of.

Star quietly cried the whole ride home, squeezing his hand. He wasn’t the only one that felt it. Her chest burned for him in the same way. The thought of losing him, or having something bad happen to him had been the kick in the ass she’d needed. The universe isn’t one to be sorry. But it wasn’t particularly glad it had to hurt Eddie in such a way to get it through to Star that she loved him. That she was in love with him. But it had worked. She knew. She was in love with Eddie Munson.

“Oh fuck.” Star said loudly in surprise as she saw the state of herself in her bathroom mirror. She’d looked up from getting a warm washcloth for Eddie’s face.

“Told you.” Eddie smiled to himself, sitting on the edge of Star's bed.

“I’m gonna get the blood off me, I’ll be a minute.” She insisted.

“I’m not going anywhere. Take your time.”

When she appeared the damage was more clear on her face, scratches covered her chest, neck, and face. Her nose was darker now, looking a little crooked and swollen.

“You should see the other guy.” She gave him a soft smile, putting on a kettle as she dug out her first aid box. She’d taken her now bloody clothes off and had pulled on a big loose sweatshirt. She kneeled in front of Eddie and he saw the wince she tried to hide as her scraped knees weighed on the floor. Her shoulder was bare from the old sweatshirt falling off it when she hunched over the kit.

“Who did that to you, baby?” his crusted hand took her by the chin and saw her eyes swollen from crying and red. A wet shine still to them as they brightened at his touch. She blinked as if she forgot how to speak for a moment, her mouth opening and closing, affected by his tender tone. She felt the heat burn from her chest to her stomach as he stroked her cheek with his knuckles.

“I only managed to get ahold of Jason.” She whispered, looking away as if she was ashamed.

“He did this?” Eddie’s brows raised.

“He…” she stopped and an odd smile moved across her face. “He had to.” She let out a quiet laugh. “I was on top of him and I wouldn’t stop hitting him. I don’t know that I would’ve stopped if he hadn’t punched me.”

“Can you tell me what happened?”

“What do you remember?”

“Being on the ground and hearing the tired squeal then being blinded by a light and seeing someone hit the ground and the others run. I think I saw you running down the alley. But there was blood in my eyes and I was feeling light-headed.”

“You didn’t miss much then.” She shook her head and laid everything out next to him on the bed. “Can you strip for me?” She asked casually, clicking the space heater on.

“Huh?”

“I want to see what the damage is.”

“Oh.” He laughed nervously, grunting to take his shirt off. She leaned up on her knees to help pull it over his head. “I was gonna say, I don’t think I’m up for it sweetheart.” He joked, wincing through the ache. She undid his jeans, his fingers throbbing from defending himself. They were pulled off with his socks to check for broken toes. Her hands were light and cold and felt nice on his hot, angry skin. He let out an audible sigh as she softly rubbed his back before wrapping a blanket around him. The kettle sounded with a scream and she raised to switch it off.

“Nothing seems broken. That’s good news.”

“I guarded my ribs like a mother fucker. Didn’t want to deal with that. But that means my arms took most of the hurt.” She had a mug made and sat on her bedside table for him after he was finished.

“You’re going to be covered in bruises for weeks.” She said, sitting back on the floor with a grunt on impact.

“Good color study huh?” He smiled at her and she stopped after clipping back his hair and looked at him for a silent moment. Her eyes danced over his face and he felt self-conscious suddenly, she seemed so somber but her eyes were so bright.

“It will be a beautiful color study.” She whispered and kissed his cheek.

She whispered apologies as she cleaned him up. Hurting him to find out what was blood and what was injury. Sweet apologies and gentle touches were all he knew from her. After she had a pile of dirtied cloth and tissue she deemed him finished. She bandaged what she could. It seemed mostly superficial but he knew it was going to hurt. “That’s all I can do.” She said with sorry eyes. “I’ll give you some of the pain pills I have for my period. That’ll take the edge off.”

“You’ve done more than enough already.” He took her hand and she stared at it, quiet again. “Do I get to take care of you?”

“I’m fine.” She shook her head and smiled at him, holding his hand back. “He only hit me once.”

“One too many.” He said with a deeper tone as he touched her face. It was as if she startled herself, looking down at his hands.

“I might’ve really hurt Jason.” She whispered.

“He ran away, didn’t he? He hit you. He can’t be that bad.”

“I blacked out. I knew it was you they were hurting and I just-“ she swallowed audibly and looked as if she might cry again. “I hit his head on the pavement. I saw red. I didn’t think. I just did. I didn’t care if I killed him at that moment. I wanted to. Just thinking that they hurt you I-“ tears started to fall again and he pulled her to him despite the pain.

“You did nothing wrong, okay?“ he said into her ear as she cried in his arms. “I’m… flattered honestly. I’m… more than thankful to have you give a shit about me at all, let alone to the point of…. What went down tonight.” He pulled her away to meet her eyes. “Thank you.” He put his forehead to hers. “From the bottom of my heart. Thank you for doing what you did.” She felt it ache, but it was overtaken again as she let out a sound of pain.

“I’m going to make them pay, Eddie.” It was a gravel-filled rasp and he felt a cold hit his spine. “No one gets away with hurting you. You understand?”

“We can’t go after them Star. They’ll expect it and I’m in no shape to-“

“No. No, we won’t. She’s going to take care of it.” She gritted her teeth and stood, she grabbed an empty jar from the cabinet and slammed it onto the counter. “I’m going to ruin his fucking life.” She was spitting fire as Eddie watched her, timid from the energy coming off her. She put sloppy pinches and pours of oils and herbs into the jar. She ripped a piece of her notebook out. “What are their names?” She asked with a white-knuckled fist holding her pen. “Their middle names too if you have them.” She didn’t look at Eddie, she stared at the paper. He didn’t dare disobey. She scribbled furiously. She put them into the jar, she was repeating things over and over, about how they’d pay and hurt and grieve their choices. She threw in things Eddie never would’ve thought of. Nails, chilis, vinegar, and dirt. With an almost full jar, she turned to him with her eyes as dark as he’d ever seen them. “Don’t do what I’m doing right now.” She told him. The eye contact was intense but he wasn’t afraid of her. He knew anyone else should’ve been. She went into the bathroom and had a jar now full of a familiar colored liquid in her hand. “I shouldn’t be doing this like this but I’m too angry to take my time. Always protect yourself.” She held the jar up. She grabbed the star he gave her around her neck. “May their words come back to haunt them.” And she added the last ingredient of spit and sealed the jar. Eddie knew black candles scared him. She lit incense and sat at the kitchenette. She sealed the jar shut with wax. He couldn’t make out her words but it sounded like something a villain of his campaigns might do. He was inspired, fascinated, and also a bit uneasy. She put out the candle and shook the jar in both hands as hard as she could as she let out a roar of a scream. After she looked like it all caught up to her fast. She stood against the counter for a moment, the jar on the kitchen table directly her opposite. She panted as if she'd ran and slumped, her head hanging down. He sat in silence and looked on in awe. She was terrifying and also the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. With tired eyes that were a serpentine stone color, she came back to herself and turned to face him. She studied him for a moment before coming over and kneeling again. She felt so tired, he could feel it coming off her as she touched his face. “No one hurts you.” She whispered and kissed his forehead. He felt the prickle of tears threaten him. He’d never felt so defended and supported before. Not as an adult anyway. It felt similar to how Wayne had been when he was young. He felt loved. “No one will hurt you and not feel pain from it.” She was protecting him, promising him. “They’ll see the error of their ways quickly. And be better for it after. They will not hurt you again. Any harm to you is a lesson they’ll learn the hard way.” He felt as if he was being blessed by a goddess. She sounded so sure. He didn’t know where to start. Did he thank her, tell her he’d do the same for her? He didn’t know. So as she rest her forehead on his, he kissed her. He felt her smile against him. His worry turned into a memory. “Would you stay with me tonight?” She asked, pulling away and taking his hands into hers.

“Of course.” He barely spoke the words. Her asking was a courtesy more than anything.

“I don’t want to be apart from you right now.” She admitted and kissed his hand. “I’m still scared.” Another quiet confession.

“I’m here. I’m not going anywhere. I promise.” He sounded so sure, she thought. She let it bring her comfort. “Let’s get in bed.” He suggested and she nodded. Silently they stripped down and got between the sheets together. Feeding their touch-loving selves seemed most important. Instead, she held him. She kissed his face and hair. He took her hand into his and held it between them to his chest until he started to fade. She brought up his hand to explore the minute details of it. She kissed his fingertips and palms and let the warmth of him soak into her face. She watched his lashes dark and long fan out over his cheeks. He’d swell more and look less angelic tomorrow. But she knew he was okay.

She didn’t feel okay. She felt more terrified than ever. She’d blacked out. What if it happened again? What was this love going to make her feel next? She didn’t know how to navigate it, how to feel it properly and it terrified her. She’d never felt this before. Realizing she’d never been in love before was another revelation that weighed heavily on her. She couldn’t tell him. That would make it real, make it have consequences. Make her face her issues with no brakes on. She couldn’t do that. She was afraid it'd make her lose her mind.

She heard her ex’s voice in her head telling her she was alone in the fact of being in love and being childish. That she was a terrible person and partner. That she was selfish and annoying, and bringing anyone into her life would be a burden to them. That as soon as she tried to be with someone else they’d see right through her. They’d see she wasn't worth it. That she couldn’t be what they wanted. She still believed that. She hadn’t allowed any evidence to the contrary to be felt. To do that she’d have to be vulnerable and honest. She’d killed that part of herself to survive her ex. And she still hadn’t been able to revive her. Being in love was the best feeling she’d ever had. Especially looking at him like this, kissing his bruises and hands, holding him, and being useful. It was a double-edged sword. As she felt the sting of self-sabotage inside her.

It was all too much. She would have to figure out how to deal with being in love tomorrow. Tonight she had done enough.

School the next day was interesting. Three basketball players showing up, one with a black and blue face and one with a major limp was fuel for the rumor mill fire. Star and Eddie had stayed home to sleep it off. That Friday they returned, swelling subsiding and makeup helping cover a good amount of Star’s bruising. Eddie however, refused and wore his with an odd sort of pride. He was still sore, everything still hurt, he figured his ribs were bruised since his arms, covered with the layers of his clothes were turning a gnarly watercolor mix of bruise shades. Once they both appeared, the rumors swelled again. Star set anyone straight who had the balls to ask. No, she and Eddie weren’t in some domestic violence situation. Jason was a jealous asshole who tried to hurt Eddie and Star intervened and beat his Ken doll face into the asphalt. She was starting to understand why Eddie lied to people so much, when you have a weirdo reputation, no one believes you even if you tell the truth. So Star decided to have some fun with it.

“Can we switch seats?” she whispered to Gareth from across the lunch table.

“Huh? Why?” he drew his face back and glared.

“She wants to sit next to me.” Jeff wiggled his brows and a chuckle moved through the group.

“That and Gareth has a straight line to Carver. I have my back to him. I want to mess with him.”

“You two look like you got hit by a bus are you sure that’s a good idea?” Dustin hissed, Steve’s influence coming through.

“Yes, Dad I do.” she snarked back.

“Anything to mess with that guy,” Gareth said giving up his seat.

Eddie’s bruised face, a busted lip, nose, and brow watched Star as she settled in, taking a giant crystal out of her purse.

“What the hell is that?” Mike asked.

“It’s a rock, what’s it look like dummy,” Jeff added.

“No shit I mean, why do you have it?”

“Trust the process.” Eddie let out a raspy chuckle.

Star hovered her hands over the stone and started saying nonsensical words. Not loudly, just enough to show her mouth was moving, shutting her eyes. She did this for an uncomfortable amount of time.

“Is he looking?” Eddie somehow knew she was asking him.

“Go for it.”

She snapped her eyes open to stare directly into Jason, not stopping the words. She jolted to put her hands on the stone and Jason jumped. Eddie covered his mouth and hid his laugh.

“It’s too easy,” he said quietly, shoving a fry into his mouth.

“She’s freaking him out.” Jeff snorted.

Star took a deep breath and rolled her eyes back then slumped, a very stereotypical movie performance of someone casting a spell. She sat back up slowly to blink her eyes open and put the stone back into her purse. She leaned in like nothing ever happened.

“He’s gonna piss the bed tonight.” Eddie grinned.

“If he hasn’t in his Levi's already.”

“He’s leaving.” Jeff was shaking holding in a laugh.

“It’s too easy sometimes,” Star said with a smile.

Eddie had taken them to school and taken them home just the same that day. They hadn’t parted since the incident. Star was feeling a new neediness she was afraid of. She didn’t want him to leave. At first, she put it to worrying about his injuries but now she knew that wasn’t true. They were both in bed, in next to nothing as they had been for a few days. Star split a pain pill with him, and they smoked themselves out. They lay in bed, Star’s hands moving carefully through Eddie’s hair, being sure not to bother his sore spots.

“I think your bruises have peaked,” she spoke softly, her thumb light on his temple.

“I’m still so sore.” he confided to her with tired eyes.

“The pills not helping?” she asked, concerned.

“Oh yeah, they are, right now. But without them, I can feel everything. My arms especially.”

“Your tattoos are mixing in with the bruises.” she mused, fingers touching the bats on his forearm.

“I hope it doesn’t fuck with them.”

“It shouldn’t. Don’t worry.” she kissed his forehead. “Just enjoy it not hurting for now.”

“Are you?”

“Very much so.” she smiled, having her nose not hurt when she moved her face.

“This is nice.” he sighed. “I could stay like this forever,” he murmured, the mix of pills and weed softening them both to mush.

“Me too,” she whispered, taking his hand and bringing it up to kiss the busted knuckles. “You got more hits in than I thought. I saw all three of them today. They all had something going on.”

“I think they got more,” he answered pitifully but it made Star laugh.

“But you’re still pretty and they look like busted orcs.”

“Orcs are already ugly.”

“That’s my point.” she felt him chuckle. “But you’re still elf pretty. You get hit in the mouth? Your lips are plusher. Hit in the nose? It gives it a new angle. Brow? Suddenly you’re super intimidating.” she kissed his face, and a happy hum from Eddie as she rolled him out of her chest and kissed every bit she spoke of.

“I got hit in the dick too,” he muttered and she fell into giggles, burying her face into his neck. He wrapped his creaky arms around her to keep her close. “Does he get kisses?”

“No.” she smiled and raised to see his eyes shut and an impossibly soft sleepy expression on his face. “You’re still hurt. A pulled muscle isn’t something I’m interested in adding to your injuries.” she kissed his cheek. “Plus my nose is busted. Gotta breathe to do that.”

“I was joking, sweetheart.” he yawned and opened one eye to see her gazing down at him, stroking his hair back. He knew they were both not sober but he swore she was looking at him differently. “What?” he decided to ask.

“You’re pretty,” she said with a smile. A light kiss to his lips. “I like looking at you.” she snuggled in and let him hold her this time. Face to face they touched noses and look each other over.

“That’s me. Your pretty boy.” his eyes shut when his cheeks rose in a pronounced grin.

“You are.” she leaned in to kiss him again with a content sigh. “You’re my pretty boy,” she whispered into his mouth. Another kiss he pushed back into. He squeezed her tightly to him, despite them both knowing it hurt. She let herself curl up into him, entangling their legs together and nuzzling like a kitten against him. They kissed with no intention to take it further for the first time. It was gentle hands in hair and caresses over bruises. Brushes against barebacks and fingertips to faces. There was something there in the haze of intoxication they were both too weak to fight. They floated together in the warmth of being someone else’s under the covers. Neither wanted to pry and take away the good feeling when both were already worn down from pain. They lazed together, kisses intermittent and spurred on by nothing but unspoken affection. As they fell asleep, one would kiss the other in the rounds of waking through the night. They would smile in their sleep, knowing the touch was safe and wanted, and pull the other closer. It was what they both wanted every night together to be. They wanted this every night. They wanted it forever. But both were too afraid to admit it.

Star woke to Eddie’s concerned face over her, his hands on her shoulders, shaking her awake. She gasped out of unconsciousness, feeling the warmth of tears on her cheeks. Her eyes darted and lolled as she came out of her dream.

“There she is, hey sweetheart. You were having a bad dream.” he cooed at her, petting the sides of her face to steady her.

“Yeah.” she rasped out, throat thick with sleep. She swallowed and caught up her breathing, having been thrown into a heaving pace from the moment she woke. “Sorry I-”

“Shhh.” he insisted with a creased brow, leaning on his side and pulling her in. He’d heard her ex’s name cried from her trembling lips in her sleep, she didn’t need to explain. “I wouldn’t have woken you up but you were upset.” he rubbed her back as she let herself wrap her arms around his waist. “Didn’t like the thought of you trapped in there with him,” he said barely above a whisper and he felt her shrink and squeeze him tighter. It hurt, his body still sore and bruised but he didn’t let it show.

“It was bad,” she muttered into his bare chest. She had flashes of the dream come back to her, all flickering an old fear in her head.

“I know, I heard.” he kissed her head and she nuzzled into the barely-there hair on his chest. “But you’re safe now. You’re here with me. And he’s far, far away, locked up. You don’t have to worry about him anymore.” he softly said in her ear, trying to reassure her. She knew all these things, but hearing it from him made her chest hurt.

“But I do.” she whimpered rather pitifully. It helped her release a pinch of the pressure she felt from having his voice in her head so much since realizing she loved the man holding her in his arms.

“I know, baby.” he sighed, feeling the exhale slump his shoulders at the weight of the statement. He wanted her ex to be a bad memory and nothing more. He wanted that so badly. The guy had been out of the picture for a long time and he was still messing with Star’s life. Eddie didn’t want to feel impatient, but it was hard not to at times like this when emotions were high.

Eddie woke from a dream, hands fumbling on the soft bed around him as he recalled where he was. He had fallen asleep in Star’s bed. He’d come over, fed the cats, and settled in with a book, resigned to wait on her to get home from work. He felt a cold chill cross him, aware of the sweat that covered his skin, and an odd feeling that he had been having a bad dream he’d already forgotten. He laid back, body stretched out as he watched the single streetlights' fuzzy light fight through the darkness to glow shapes onto the ceiling through the curtain. He was in an unpleasant state of half awake and sleeping when the phone rang. He nearly jumped out of his skin, his hands jolting to his chest as he looked in its direction with a high-pitched shriek he was glad no one was around to hear. He mumbled and cursed, sitting up at staring at the phone on the wall. He wasn’t sure if he should answer it. It wasn’t his phone or his house. But something whispered into his ear, telling him to.

“Hello?” he decided on, Reynolds residence felt silly, too formal even if it was factual.

“Ugh, thank christ he’s there.” he hear a muffled familiar voice. “Hey, Eddie, It’s Steve.”

“Uh.. hi?” he tilted his head despite no one being there to see it. Steve calling Star didn’t seem that weird, but the fact that he knew who he was coupled with the formerly mumbled words didn’t sit right with Eddie. “Star’s not here, she’s working tonight. She should be home soon though,” he said, sleep still heavy in his voice.

“I know, she’s here with me.” Eddie’s brow lowered at the news. “We’re at Family Video, are you in any shape to drive down here?”

“You think I’m just high all the time?” Eddie deflected, looking at his watch to verify that it was in fact past closing time and late.

“Do you want me to answer that?” Eddie rolled his eyes. “Besides, this is serious. Those guys that she went after pulled some fucked up shit on her at work. She can’t drive. Or I won’t let her in this shape. She needs you.” Eddie’s heart fluttered, happy at the statement, but his stomach also dropped at the news that something had already happened in retaliation.

“Yeah, I’ll leave right now. Is she okay?”

“She’ll be okay she’s shaken up. No need to drive any more recklessly than you already do.”

“Sure. Be there in 5.”

The diner was dark, and Star’s car was still in the parking lot. Family Video was closed, and the sign turned as Eddie jogged up to it. He saw the familiar trio inside, sitting on the countertops of the checkout. Steve jumped down to let him in, Robin was trying her best at being comforting and failing to Star who looked beyond exhausted.

“She’s-” Steve began as Eddie shoved past him, ignoring him. He shrugged, not insulted due to the circumstances. Eddie leaped over the counter, forgoing walking the distance around and making a straight line to Star who had already held her arms out to him.

“You okay baby? What happened? You hurt?” he blurted out after they pressed against each other for a heavy moment. Robin gave a sympathetic smirk to Steve at the pet name.

“I’m okay. I mean, I’m not hurt I’m just… so tired. I had a panic attack.” there were dark circles under her eyes, and her mascara ran down her cheeks. Her usual neat bun was loose and tilted on top of her head.

“What happened?” he asked, holding her cheeks to look her over to make sure she wasn’t downplaying her situation. She looked over to Steve who had already heard it all. She was so tired she didn’t have it in her to go over it again.

“Can you fill him in? I don’t have it in me.” she exhaled and let her shoulders slump, her head landing on Eddie’s shoulder.

“I was out back and heard screaming. I saw her run out of the diner to her car and she was in a full-blown panic attack. The not talking, crying, hyperventilating, the whole 9 yards. So I ran over and tried to do… something. Anything you know?” he shrugged. “They turned the gas stove on and held the door shut on her, while one lit it from that little window where they keep the order tickets. It flamed up really big and she…” he held his hand out toward her. “Understandably blacked out and went full-blown PTSD soldier.” Eddie frowned at the insensitive description. “Her words, man.” he held his hands up to show he wasn’t at fault. Eddie’s face softened again, having now perched up on the counter next to Star, his arm around her, rubbing her arm as she let herself lean against him. She stared at the floor the entire time.

“Was it Jason?” he asked her, looking down at her.

“I assume. I didn’t see anyone. Just a guy's arm come in the window. They got scared when it happened, I heard other guys’ voices shouting and they ran. I heard the back door slam.”

“How’d they get in the diner?” his voice was angry, but she knew it wasn’t directed at her. She was too tired to be angry and was thankful someone could be on her behalf.

“No idea. I thought the back door was locked while I cleaned up. John left, he’d cleaned the kitchen, and I was finishing up everything else before I headed out.”

“That’s that line cook isn’t it?” Eddie didn’t hide the disdain in his voice. “I bet he did it.” Steve shrugged. “Did he try something again?” Eddie asked, holding Star’s face up to his to look into her eyes, making sure she was telling the truth. Her brow furrowed at his suspiciously.

“How did you know?” she asked quietly.

“Steve and Robin told me he hits on you all the time.” Star let out a huff of a laugh.

“I set him straight a little while ago. Yelled at him and told him to fuck off. All that shit. He’s not done much since then.” she shrugged.

“It was multiple guys though. She said she heard more than one voice.” Robin pointed out.

“I’m thinking he might be how they got into the diner.” Eddie elaborated and Robin nodded slowly in understanding.

“That guy has bad vibes written all over him,” Steve said with an assertive hand. “I wouldn’t put it past him to let those guys in.”

“That’s what I’m thinking too.” Eddie let Star’s head rest again, rubbing on her back now. “It had to be Jason. He’s been the one messing with us. He’s hurt he got beat up by a girl. Two of the three that came after us had to sit out on one of their games so they’re pissed about that too.”

“Jason’s the one that knows I’m scared of fire,” Star said quietly.

“Wouldn’t anyone just assume you were from the scars?” Robin asked obviously.

“Jason threatened her at the Halloween party with it though.” Eddie backed up Star’s statement.

“A lot of people don’t even know they’re from fire,” Star added with a roll of her eyes.

“That’s fucked up,” Steve said with sympathetic eyes Star didn’t mind at the moment.

“We can’t just let them get away with this right? It’s not just some fight or bullying. This was… yeah... fucked up.” Robin said, chewing on her nails.

“It feels personal.” Steve winced as he and Star looked at one another and she gave a small nod.

“We can’t go beat them up. It won’t work. That’s clear now. We have to do something different.”

“You won’t be doing anything,” Eddie said, looking down at her. “We’ll handle this. You can’t be attached to this. If they know it’s you, or us they’ll keep coming back and this won’t end. We need a plan.”

“Something sneaky,” Robin added.

“Something that can’t be traced back to you.” Steve tapped his pronounced cupid’s bow, his eyes tight in thought.

“We need to scare them.” Eddie’s already dark eyes were black with vengeance. If they put their heads together. They could figure this out.

Star sat out the next Hellfire meeting, she was exhausted still from the panic attacks. Eddie didn’t give her any shit about it. It gave him a rare moment to get people together without her involved.

The appearance of Steve and Robin at Hellfire confused the hell out of the club.

“Tonight’s session will be delayed. One of our own has been personally attacked and we’re going to brainstorm a way to ruin these guys' lives.”

“But no amateur shit, alright?” Steve said forcefully. “We aren’t talking fights and rumors. We need a solid plan of attack.”

The combination of Steve and Eddie and their rage fueled their leadership. With the addition of multiple points of view, the genius of Dustin, the insider knowledge of Lucas, and Mike’s ability to get access to what Nancy had access to they formulated a plan.

Steve pulled Eddie aside, his face and tone still serious.

“I know you aren’t going to agree but I think if we talked to Hopper-.”

“The cops? Are you fucking kidding me? No. Absolutely not.” he shook his head and motioned in the negative dramatically.

“Listen. We can trust him. You saw how he let Star go. He’s not as big of a piece of shit as you think. I know him. We can trust him.”

“I have a lifetime of experience that tells me otherwise, Harington.” Eddie snapped back.

“Hopper and I…” Steve sighed and rubbed his face, he couldn’t tell Eddie the truth, so he had to try to find a way to convince him. “Hopper and I have been through some shit together okay. I mean, life-changing, government-level shit. I got involved when Barb went missing. When Will went missing. Do you remember? The chemical leaks and all that shit? I was there. Hopper and I went through hell trying to figure that shit out.”

“You were involved in that?”

“Yes. It’s complicated. I got involved because Will was missing and Nancy was helping Jonathan look for him and he was friends with Mike and all the kids and that’s her little brother and their friend and it all just got….complicated. So if I talk to Hopper, maybe we can get his help. Or at least an idea or two.”

“The Chief of Police is gonna help some shithead kids take revenge on some other shithead kids?” Eddie said with no belief in his eyes.

“Will you go with me? Can you trust me? You know I wouldn’t do this if I didn’t think it was a good idea. I’ve taken care of Star before right? You know I care about her too. I’m not going to make things worse. Can you at least trust that?” Eddie groaned. Steve had a point.

“What the hell are you two doing in my office so damned early?” Hopper groaned, sitting down at his desk.

“We needed some advice.” Steve started, Eddie had promised to keep quiet. He didn’t want to say the wrong thing while in a natural mode of defense in a police station. He’d never been in one for any good reason. “About Star.”

“Are you two a little old to need advice on girls?” Hopper grinned and laughed in amusement at himself. Eddies brow quirked up at the odd friendliness he was showing.

“Not like that. We have reason to believe that Carver kid and some of his friends, maybe the line cook at the diner is involved too, attacked her to scare the shit out of her.”

“A prank?”

“She’s deathly afraid of fire. You saw the scars on her arms. They lit up the gas stove in the diner’s kitchen and held the door shut and it sent her into a full-blown PTSD flashback and she nearly had a heart attack from a panic attack.” Eddie blurted out, still hurt over the fact that it happened.

Hopper blinked, seeing the Munson kids' passion for the situation. He sat back and Eddie watched as Hopper's face contorted, not happy about the information he just blurted out.

“You have any proof?” was the first question.

“I saw her run out of the diner screaming and hyperventilating. She was still freaking out by the time I got her into the store. Robin was there. Is that a witness?”

“Did you see who did it? Did she?” he clarified.

“No.” Stever frowned and slumped noticeably.

“She said she saw a guy's hand light the stove through the window. And it had to be someone strong holding the door to keep her from opening it. You saw her take that giant kid down, she’s not weak.” Eddie added.

“She heard more than one guy's voice when it happened. It scared them too. They didn’t know it would be that big of a fire cloud, I’m guessing.”

“They could've killed her,” Eddie said, his voice cracking.

“I know that old place doesn’t have surveillance. There was that weird incident with the car and blood everywhere a little while back. Are these things related?” Hopper eyeballed Eddie who still had an inkling of bruising still left on his face. Eddie looked at Steve nervously.

“I told you. You can trust him. Tell him.” he offered earnestly.

“I have no reason to be a dick to you kid. I get pranks and the dumb shit you kids pull. I was an idiot once myself. But terrifying a poor girl who’s already clearly been through a lot isn’t acceptable in my book. I’m not here to give you shit for getting in a fight.” Eddie shifted uneasily.

“Jason Carver and two of his basketball team members faked a note from Star and jumped me in the alley. I thought I was meeting her after work. Star showed up and she got ahold of Carver and beat his face in. He looked rough. She got me and took me home. We think that them scaring her at the diner was retaliation for her fighting back.”

“Unfortunately that makes sense for that kind of person,” Hopper mumbled.

“I can’t press charges without evidence. And you don’t have any. I know that’s not what you want to hear but that’s me being straight with you.” He sat back in his chair and sipped his coffee.

“We can’t let them get away with it. But we need something to get them back, that can’t be traced back to us.” Eddie, although more at ease, was still tightly wound and surprised by Steve’s willingness to be so direct.

“Sorry, kid I’m not gonna pull some Lone Ranger-type shit on a bunch of high schoolers.” he chuckled and paused, then leaned forward on his desk and motioned for them lean in too. “But… there are plenty of ways to very quickly make a car not run you know,” he smirked. “I’m sure you can use what you know about cars to figure something out, Munson.” Jim gave him a nod. “Keep in mind what I said about evidence.” he sat up with a grunt. “It can be used for people besides you. A well-placed piece of evidence can be very damning in the right circumstances.” Eddie’s eyes went wide as he blinked at Hopper in disbelief. He was being… helpful. “I’m just saying this to warn you of course. This isn’t me giving you any ideas.” he winked and nodded.

“Shit. That’s a good idea.”

“What’d I just say?” Hopper grumped at Steve.

“You’re right. Thanks. We just needed some…guidance on what NOT to do.” Steve gave an overly performed wink and Hopper groaned.

“Don’t get caught,” he said as they stood to go to the door. “Don’t. Get. Caught.”

Star sat back, each unfortunate accident a surprise to her and she relished in each one. In the next few weeks, things moved fast. Star didn’t mind the nights alone when she knew her friends were out raising well-deserved hell. Cars started mysteriously not working. Whole engines needed to be replaced. Mike, pleading for the sake of revenge got Nancy to let an embarrassing typo at Jason’s expense into the school paper in the name of justice. However, she might’ve chosen the least flattering photos of him for the ones used in the paper for the rest of the year. Jason and his friends suddenly were failing their classes on their midterm report cards. Thanks to Dustin’s girlfriend, Susie. Dustin messed with the tech at basketball games. The scoreboard would miscount, creating arguments and distractions to make them perform poorly. The cameras would just so happen to stop recording from time to time. Enough to make Jason miserable, missing out on having his top performances lost to memory as they weren’t recorded. Star’s personal favorite was an anonymous call being put in for a health hazard at Benny’s, the abandoned building the jocks partied at was suddenly boarded up and covered in caution tape for the second time in its history. This time, a big poison sign was plastered to the front. They no longer had a place to party. The boy’s favorite was the senior prank gone wrong. Steve had been blamed for spraypainting things before but never had. Eddie had a hard-on for vandalism he rarely indulged in due to always being the one that got blamed. But with the help of the club, too many of them to catch them all, and a shit load of spray paint and spray foam insulation, not only did they get two days off school for the subsequent cleanup, they got Jason suspended. with a well-placed receipt for the purchase of the two products used in the vandalism and the spray paint can used under his bed he couldn’t deny it. It was labeled a distasteful senior prank gone wrong. A disgrace they called it. He was now an outcast, his parents deeply disappointed, grounding him for a month, and the church ripe with rumors of the downfall of a once-promising young man. They dare not even speak the words spray painted all over the school inside and out. It was beautiful to the perpetrators, seeing some justice in the world for the first time in a long time.

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Part 19!

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