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jahayla-parker · 5 months

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Uncharted Territory : Tom Holland x Reader

Description: 9.1k wc, Reader finds herself working on the set of one of Tom’s movies in an attempt to escape her stalker. Only, it seems she can’t outrun her troubles even in another country. This means y/n and Tom find themselves in uncharted territory as they try to navigate their way through the ordeal. Dark, stalker, hurt comfort, protective, injury comfort, angst to fluff. Happy ending.

Warnings: dark theme(s), violence, curse words, guns and gunshots, wounds/injuries, blood/bleeding, stalkers, stalker behavior, break-ins, and related.

This was a Ko-fi request by the lovely @theslayerofthevampires Thank you again for the support 💜

“You coming?” Tom asked as he approached y/n. He and a few others from the cast and crew were going out for drinks. He’d worked with y/n by now, but hadn’t spent much time with her outside of work.

Y/n gave Tom an appreciate smile but shook her head. “No, but thank you,” she replied politely.

“Do you prefer to do something else instead?” Tom offered with a smile.

“Oh,” y/n startled. “No, that’s okay,” she promised. She felt bad, Tom had always been nice and was going out of his way to make sure she was invited tonight. But, she couldn’t accept the offer, it would make her too susceptible to having her past repeated.

“Have I offended you in some way?” Tom asked gently, his smile having disappeared.

“What?” Y/n gushed as she shook her head quickly. “No, of course not!” She replied.

“Okay, well if you decide to join us all later, you know where we’ll be,” Tom proposed, a faint smile on his face again.

Y/n gave Tom another small smile and nodded. She felt bad, and truly wanted to be able to go. But she couldn’t risk getting close. Especially not to a guy. She had came all the way to Berlin for work in order to get away, she wasn’t going to undo that.

Y/n groaned to herself as she cleaned up her table. Today had been a total disaster. It was one thing after another. They’d basically got nothing done on set today and the director wasn’t handling it well.

“Ice cream is on me,” Tom commented warmly as he appeared from around the corner.

Y/n quickly looked up and visibly hesitated. But, she was quick to see how Tom’s immediate reaction to her hesitation showed he’d taken it personally. She had rejected spending time with him since they met. Although to be fair, she’d done that with everyone since she arrived. Only, the others had quickly given up on her ending her isolation; whereas Tom hadn’t. Y/n knew she had likely been being paranoid. Nothing had really happened since she arrived. And she was kinda tired of spending each night alone and having no one to talk to. Perhaps ice-cream with a co-worker wasn’t the end of the world. “Okay, sure,” she agreed.

It came as a surprise to herself, but y/n found herself and Tom growing closer over the last few weeks. In fact, she actually now considered him a friend. It was strange and slightly worrisome still, but also comforting. Especially given she was certain she was slowly losing her mind to her paranoia.

Y/n had gotten a handful of calls from unknown numbers over the past two days. All of which were silent when she would answer. She knew odds were it was simply telemarketers, but it still made her anxious. So spending time hanging out with Tom was helpful in that it distracted her from the suspicious calls.

While they’d certainly gotten closer lately, y/n still hadn’t expected for Tom to ask her out today during lunch. She also hadn’t expected herself to say yes so quickly and freely. Granted, that breeziness didn’t last long. As y/n was now in an empty bathroom stall as she tried not to suffer a panic attack.

Y/n knew she had feelings for Tom, but that was simply another reason she tried to stay away from him when they first met. However, as they’d hung out together as friends, her feelings only grew. He was just as respectful and friendly as she suspected he was upon seeing him interact with others the day he had arrived on set here in Berlin. Perhaps that’s why she was so comfortable accepting his offer instead of letting her paranoia cloud her mind and change her decision. She didn’t regret it, but she knew she’d need to still be on edge. At least until she could somehow ensure she could determine he wasn’t like Michael.

Y/n smiled to herself as she walked into her rental. She quickly locked the door behind her, but the smile didn’t leave her face. She’d just gotten back from her latest date with Tom and had a wonderful night.

Y/N’s smile evaporated the second she entered her tiny kitchenette area. She squinted hesitantly at the counter. There was a small pile of mail she’d opened but not dealt with yet on her counter. That wasn’t the odd part though; she’d left that there this morning. What was concerning was y/n swore she’d left her pen directly on top of the pile of mail. Only now the pen was haphazardly set to the side of the stack of documents.

Y/n sighed loudly as she ran her hands down her face. It could’ve rolled off the top of the stack; it was a pen after all. She was just being paranoid again and looking for trouble. Things had been going too well lately that her mind was getting defensive. She just needed to calm down. Surely if someone had been in here, there’d be other signs of it.

Y/n took a deep breath and decided to double check that she’d locked the door. Once she was sure that it was locked, she made her way to her bedroom space and plugged her phone in before it could die in case she needed it tonight. She then grabbed her bottle of anxiety meds from beside her bed and took one. Surely after enough time, she’d not need them anymore. She just had to let herself see that she was safe now. Time would help with that.

“Come on, love,” Tom nudged teasingly as he snuggled up to y/n. They’d been sharing crazy stories about how something that went wrong resulted in something positive down the road. Tom had explained how his Uber driver had told him he wasn’t going to get the role of Spider-Man while he was on the way to his audition. He had told y/n how as much as it had hurt and seemed like a bad omen, it actually increased his nerves and made him have this buzzing energy that matched Peter Parker’s character really well. Y/n had vaguely answered Tom’s question by stating that her ending up as part of the production crew for the movie they were working on and had met through (Uncharted) was actually the result of a situation gone wrong back home.

“It’s not fun like yours,” y/n explained with a fake light laugh.

Tom noticed the way y/n wouldn’t look at him and how her hands started to shake slightly. He quickly grabbed her hands and squeezed them tightly. “‘ey, love, it’s okay,” he promised. “If you don’t want to talk about it, that’s okay”.

“Are you sure?” Y/n asked, filled with guilt.

Tom nodded quickly. “Of course, darling, you don’t have to answer. I just don’t want you to feel like you can’t answer just because it has a different tone in nature than my story,” he explained.

“It’s a bit dark,” y/n admitted, staring up at Tom.

Tom nodded again. “That’s okay, if you want to talk about it, I’m here,” he promised, kissing her cheek.

“I don’t want you to see me differently,” y/n mumbled quietly, her eyes staring at her lap.

Tom frowned. “Y/n, I don’t know what’s going on,” he acknowledged softly. “But, I promise you that won’t happen, love,” Tom vowed.

Y/N’s eyes lifted up and she stared at Tom I’m silence for a moment, contemplating. “Okay,” she whispered. She took an audibly deep breath. “So… I- I ended up here because I had to get away from someone back home,” y/n explained vaguely. “I basically ran… changed my info and fled.” “And, yeah, that’s what brought me to Berlin,” she laughed humorlessly.

“You had to get away from someone?” Tom questioned cautiously. “Was it an ex?” he wondered out loud.

“No.” Y/n shook her head. “Not exactly… He-he wanted to be, I guess..,” she replied. “But we were just friends”. Her hands shook slightly as she recalled how it went down.

“I see, I’m sorry, love,” Tom said gently. “Did he hurt you?” He questioned, his worried eyes scanning y/n.

“No,” y/n answered quickly. Upon seeing Tom’s visible disbelief, she sighed. “Not physically at least,” she explained.

Tom nodded slowly. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“It sounds crazy,” y/n admitted.

Tom frowned and took ahold of y/n’s shaking hands. “He stalked you,” he guessed.

“How did-“ y/n panicked.

“I’ve had experience with stalkers before, they make you feel constantly on edge,” Tom sympathized. “That’s the only explanation for why you would think it would sound crazy,” he acknowledged. “Plus, love, it explains why you were so distant before”.

Y/n’s gaze dropped from Tom’s face guiltily. “Yeah… sorry about that,” she mumbled.

Tom lovingly squeezed y/n’s hand as he held her closer. “Don’t be.” “Just know, I won’t let him hurt you anymore,” he whispered into her hair.

“Tom,” y/n sighed.

“I do not mean to minimize what you went though,” Tom promised. “I simply do not want you to have to live in fear. I’ll help keep you safe as best as I can.” “I can get you some security if you need for when filming is over and you go back,” he offered calmly, smiling faintly as y/n relaxed some and leaned into him more.

Y/n smiled shyly but appreciatively.

Tom and y/n sat quietly for a little, Tom letting her steady her breathing. However, he noticed how she seemed to be bendy looking around the room. This helped him realize that while her breathing had slowed, she was clearly still somewhat distraught. “Thank you for telling me,” he said, holding her hands tightly. “Is there anything I can do to help?”

“I-,” y/n looked up at Tom. She shook her head. “I d-do-don’t think so,” she stuttered. She curled the side of her lip up out of self pity. “I mean, I got a restraining order, ch-changed my name, flew to Berlin,” she trailed off, “but…”

“But?” Tom pressed.

“I still panic over every weird occurrence,” y/n blurted.

Tom squinted. He tried to trace back the areas y/n had been nervously looking at earlier for clues. “What do you mean?”

“It sounds paranoid without context… Maybe even with context… but,” y/n rambled bashfully.

Tom squeezed y/n’s hands supportively. “If you want to provide me with the context, I’m open to hearing it. Either way, I doubt it’ll sound paranoid knowing what you said you went through,” he sympathized.

Y/n nodded in agreement. “It’s kinda a long story,” she warned.

“I’ve got all the time in the world to listen to you, love,” Tom said.

Y/n bit back a small smile. It wasn’t hard when her focus shifted from Tom’s kind words to what she was about to disclose. “I… had this friend, Michael,” she murmured. “H-he and I would go to the movies, or hangout together a lot. He never asked me out; which is good, ‘cause I never saw him that way”. She frowned as she continued her story. “Yet, it was because of that that I didn’t know he saw me that way. Not until he started getting a bit possessive when I spent more time with other people.” She looked up nervously, only to be greeted by Tom’s compassionate gaze. “I didn’t realize how bad it was until I was staying with my cousin and his wife one weekend and posted about it… Michael got mad and … and asked who it was, why I didn’t tell him, and all of that kind of stuff.”

Y/n tucked her legs under her as she hesitantly let herself lean into Tom’s comforting embrace. “We got into a fight over it,” she recalled as Tom rubbed her back, “I said I needed space to myself in order to see if we could still stay friends after the weirdness.” She groaned to herself as the memories flowed. “I thought he was respecting that… but instead, he just started hiding his possessive traits.”

“It took me what I think was maybe, a week, to notice that he was following me,” y/n confessed with a scowl. “When I called him out on it, he apologized and… and pl-pleaded to let him make it up to me.” She shivered faintly, recovering when Tom rubbed her bare arms lovingly. “I told him that I needed to think and he began calling me, all day, every day, every hour of the night, to try to get through to me. I told him to stop but he didn’t.” She gritted her teeth as she reprocessed the events. “I blocked him… and then he started showing up everywhere and these ‘gifts’ started arriving at my house.” Y/n shook her head against Tom’s chest out of frustration. “I got a restraining order as I’d ran out of options, but the police did nothing as they said it was coincidental and I couldn’t prove it was him,” she explained.

Y/n wrapped her arms around Tom’s waist as he continued to hold her. “The part where I ended up here because of it, happened to be that, one night, I got a call saying that I was offered a spot on the production crew for Uncharted that I’d applied for months before.” She smiled faintly as she spoke about her change in luck. “I had my friend verify the offer, so I knew it wasn’t a trap from him,” y/n detailed. “When she mentioned the only issue she saw was that it was in Berlin, I saw it as a chance. I immediately changed my last name so that it wouldn’t show on any passports or flight registries, ordered a new emergency-rushed passport, and flew out here,” she concluded. “So, yeah, that’s me,” y/n added in an attempt to soften the tension caused by the rest of her words.

“That’s not you,” Tom murmured. He pressed a light kiss to the top of y/n’s head.

“What?” Y/n whimpered in a hushed voice.

“That’s something you went through,” Tom acknowledged with a frown. “But, it’s not who you are, y/n,” he soothed. He tightened his grip on her as she melted into his side. “I’m really sorry you had to deal with that.” Tom took a deep breath and intentionally focused on making his voice as soft as possible. “But, I have to ask, when you said there was something you were going to say that would make you sound paranoid, what was it?”

“Oh,” y/n laughed to herself. “That,” she mumbled, “right”. “Well,” she sighed loudly, “it’s just..”. A few moments of silence passed after she had trailed off before y/n spoke again. “See that picture frame?” Y/n asked as she pointed across the room to the shelf by her TV.

Tom nodded. “Yes, the one with you, and who I’m assuming is a friend of yours?” he asked to confirm he had tracked y/n’s finger-pointing back to the correct frame.

“Yeah,” y/n agreed.

Tom nodded again.

“Well, I…” y/n sighed. She truly felt crazy. “I could’ve sworn it was at a slightly different angle yesterday,” she admitted.

“Hmm,” Tom nodded. He looked around her room as he asked, “anything else?”

“What?” Y/n questioned, having been caught off guard by Tom’s response.

“Have you noticed anything else out of place?” Tom clarified.

“You don’t think I’m crazy?” Y/n asked, her eyes slightly widened.

“Not in the least,” Tom argued. “Hopefully it’s nothing,” he reassured, “but the fear is valid, and it doesn’t hurt to consider the possibility”. He wrapped his arms more securely around y/n in hopes it would help her feel protected and safe now.

Y/n was beyond appreciative over having been respected about what she felt might be paranoia. “Ummm, well…,” she mumbled. After reminding herself that Tom seemed to trust her instincts, she felt comfortable continuing to explain the weird things that had been occurring. “I’ve also been getting weird calls… with no one on the other end.”

Tom’s brows furrowed as he gazed down at y/n. He pouted to himself. “How long ago was this?” he asked.

“I got one earlier today,” y/n informed Tom.

Tom nodded. He gently tilted y/n’s head up so he could look into her eyes. “If it happens again, can you let me answer?”

“You want to answer it?” Y/n questioned in bewilderment.

Tom simply nodded. “I was sincere when I said I want to help,” he promised.

“Okay,” y/n nodded. “Thank you”.

“No,” Tom whispered, stroking y/n’s cheek. “Thank you for being willing to let me know and trusting me to help”.

“Tom…” y/n trailed off. Her hesitant eyes were focused in on Tom’s patient ones.

“Yeah?” Tom replied.

Y/n bit her bottom lip. “I wanted to explain that’s also why I… asked for us to stay a secret,” she frowned. “I don’t want my face getting out there, you know..”

“Of course,” Tom gushed supportively. “And darling, you don’t have to explain things like that, it’s your choice, my love.” He smiled softly as he ran his thumb over y/n’s cheek. “Nonetheless, I completely understand.”

“STOP!” Y/n shouted, her body violently flying forward from her sleeping position. She felt the air from the fan tickling her sweaty forehead. Her eyes were widened and she felt dehydrated. She felt someone grab her hand, causing her distant startled gaze to snap towards where her hand was resting on the bed. She quickly traced the hand back until she saw Tom watching her worriedly.

Y/n let out a shaky choked sob. Her eyes shifted away from Tom’s face in embarrassment. She felt him cautiously wrap his arms around her and bring her to his chest. “I’m… I…I’m sorry, T-Tom,” she apologized.

Tom gently shushed y/n and rubbed her back as she buried her face into his torso. He frowned to himself, hating that the woman he loved was so traumatized. He whispered soothing words as he held her tightly. He made sure to let her know that she was safe and that it was okay that she reacted this way to her nightmare.

Tom had almost gotten y/n back to a completely calm state when her phone began to ring. He felt her stiffen in his arms, making his frown return. He quickly reached over to the nightstand and picked up her cellphone. Tom squinted at the screen angrily but upon feeling y/n shimmy against him to try to see, he tilted the screen for her so she could check it first.

When y/n froze upon seeing the unknown number on her phone yet again, Tom delicately pulled her back to him. “Is it the silent call?” He asked her. Upon her nodding slowly, Tom shifted his jaw and pressed answer as he moved the phone to his ear.

“Hello?” Tom answered. He heard nothing in the background. Not even things or people shuffling around. The other side of the call was completely silent. “Either respond now, or stop calling this number,” Tom commanded. He waited for a response, but still, none came. He glared at the phone as the line went dead.

Tom silenced y/n’s phone before placing it back where he’d gotten it from. He adjusted the blankets to completely cover y/n’s shaking frame. Once she was covered properly, he securely wrapped his arms around her as he began to try and soothe her again.

The night Tom had learned about y/n’s history and comforted her after her related nightmare, the couple hardly slept as she was on edge for awhile after the call. But, after that night these weird occurrences suddenly stopped. It was so sudden in fact, that y/n was a bit fearful that Tom might be connected to Michael somehow. However, she calmed herself down and realized that was crazy as Michael wouldn’t have stopped now because of that even if Tom did have a secret connection to him; there would’ve been no reason to. In fact, one would expect if that were the case for Michael to feel more comfortable and increase his stalking behaviors. So, y/n figured she was just being paranoid from the very start as it had now been over two weeks without anything weird happening.

Y/n yawned lightly as she unlocked the door to her apartment and stepped inside. Her tiredness quickly turned to glee upon seeing the decorations Tom must’ve set up. They had agreed to staying in for date night tonight. Y/n had given him her spare key since she knew she’d be having to work at least an extra hour longer than he did on set today. She figured he could let himself in and get comfortable until she got there. She’d texted him about twenty minutes ago to let him know she was finally done on set. Given the romantic dinner that was currently set for two and rose petals covering the floor, he must’ve utilized that extra time to set this up. While she’d been expecting a more casual night in, she appreciated the sentiment.

Y/n walked further into her apartment, blissfully unaware to what was about to happen. Just as she’d approached the dining table, she felt a cold metallic pressure on the side of her head. Her body began to panic but she forced her mind to remain calm. Y/n turned at a glacial speed towards where the cold metal sensation was. Michael. She swallowed thickly as her dramatically widened eyes took in the way her stalker was suddenly standing directly beside her, a handgun barrel pressed against her head. Before she could find the words to say, or any words that is, Michael gripped her shoulder and motioned for her to sit.

Y/n’s hands nervously sat in her lap as she gazed across the decorated dining table. Michael was already staring back at her. While his appearance still filled her with terror, it was slightly better than it had been with the gun pressed against her.

“Eat, beautiful girl,” Michael said, waving the gun loosely around as he used it to point to y/n’s plate. “Come on, it’s our date night,” he encouraged when she didn’t move, “wouldn’t want the food to get cold”.

Y/n eyed the overbooked steak on the plate in front of her. Had Michael poisoned it? Would he do that? He liked her right? So surely he wouldn’t want her dead.. right? Had he somehow figured out about her relationship with Tom? If so, was that enough to make him try to poison her in retaliation? It’s not like she was even hungry. Not anymore. Any appetite she had when she walked in the door left the second she saw him. But she didn’t want to piss Michael off by not eating it either. Perhaps she could play it off.

Y/n poked her fork at the steak. “I.. uhh… I was actually going to try being vegetarian,” she lied.

“Since when?” Michael asked, seemingly deeply interested in the topic.

“I’ve thought about it for awhile,” y/n said slowly as she inventoried her surroundings. “A co-worker… o-on set showed me.. a… a video today though,” she rambled, biting her lip as she realized her only possible escape would be the front door.

“A vegan propaganda video,” Michael commented judgingly with a look of irritation on his face.

Y/n nodded nervously, her fear returning as her eyes made their way back to the gun in Michael’s hand.

“No worries, babe,” Michael said casually, “it’s sweet you care that much”. “We can still enjoy our night together,” he grinned.

Y/n nodded anxiously yet again, not wanting to offend Michael. “What are you doing here?” She asked. As appalling as this was, at least he was having positive feelings for her not anger against her at the moment. She hoped to keep it that way while also finding a way through this. If she somehow survived the night with him, maybe she could sneakily tell Tom tomorrow on set? Tom. How was she going to warn him to stay away? Did she want him to? Or did she selfishly want him to come over and help her? Could he help her? Was it selfish of her to want him to?

"I’ll have you know,” Michael groaned as he set his gun on the table beside his plate. He paused as he took a moment to enjoy a bite of his overcooked steak. “It wasn’t easy, you were really hard to track down, you know that," he complained.

Y/n’s brows furrowed. Not hard enough, evidently. “Oh,” she whispered. “How did you?” Y/n dared ask even though her voice shook as she worried if Michael would take offense to the question.

Michael actually appeared happy when the question left y/n’s mouth. He smirked as he pulled out his phone. The smirk shifted to a grimace as he glared at something pulled up on the screen. A few seconds later, Michael turned the screen towards y/n to show her.

On Michael’s phone was a picture of y/n and Tom. Given the weird angle and the setting, y/n knew it had clearly been taken by either a fan or paparazzi. Fortunately, as to not further anger Michael, the photo was innocent enough. In the unauthorized photo, y/n was sitting very closely to Tom and he had his arm over her; but that was it. The unfortunate part was that it was taken without their knowledge and leaked online for anyone to see; including her stalker Michael.

“Your new guy friend seems to have a large social presence,” Michael commented with blatant disgust.

Y/n ignored Michael’s attempt to act as if he hadn’t heard of Tom Holland before seeing the photo of her and him together. She nodded slowly, “that’s how.. How you knew I was in Berlin…”. Y/n placed her arms on the table, intentionally laying them over the utensils. She ignored the way the ends of the silverware dug into her skin as she asked Michael how he got inside her apartment.

“That was a bit trickier,” Michael confessed, but was still smug about it. “Especially given the name change,” he tsked. “Which, is too bad. I liked your real last name babe,” he complimented, reaching out and taking hold of y/n’s hands across the table.

Y/n froze and her body tensed. She couldn’t pull away without upsetting Michael. But it made her physically nauseated to be touching him. Or rather, to have him touching her.

Michael took y/n’s sudden tension as an implication that she felt bad about changing her last name. “It’s okay honey,” he nearly purred, squeezing her hands for good measure. “Both are nice. Any name is nice on you.” Michael let go of her hands as he resumed eating his meal. “Anyways, dear, to answer your question,” he mumbled with food in his mouth. “Once I went through the list of names for the cast and crew, I realized the name change, but thought it was just a mistake.” He shrugged casually as he continued, “nonetheless, I then name dropped your new last name when I got to set and asked for an extra key”. He smirked to himself, his eyes flickering up to meet y/n’s . “I’m sure you’re wondering how I was able to get one,” he said excitedly. “I pretended to be one of your co-workers who was running behind on their tasks and needed to get some papers you had left at home by accident and said I didn’t have time to get the key from you directly,” he bragged.

Y/n slowly dragged her arms back to her. She was careful to do it gradually as to not accidentally drop the streak knife on the floor in the process. As good of a plan as it was, she still felt very stupid in that moment. She should’ve told the others on set about Michael. She’d wanted to get away and leave it all behind her. But by not telling anyone, she let him worm his way back into her life so easily. She should’ve told the crew so they’d not be so naïve. But it was too late for that now. “Wow,” she murmured, hoping it came across as being impressed and not terrified. “S-so,.. wh-when did you get here?” Y/n questioned as her wrists hit the edge of the table. The serrated knife dropped to her lap; the sound muffled by her question.

“Nearly a month ago,” Michael answered breezily.

“What?” Y/n gasped, practically choking on air. A month?! Those weird occurrences had been Michael after all! She wasn’t paranoid. He’d been in her new apartment.

“I didn’t want to rush things,” Michael defended, his tone suddenly tighter. “We both know how that went last time.” He sighed. “But, I was the one who cleaned up the files in your kitchen, dusted your picture frames, and made your bed that day you forgot,” he grinned. “I also checked in on days I wanted to give you space but also wanted to check on you,” Michael added.

“That was you,” y/n murmured to herself as she thought back through all the crazy things that had happened.

“Of course that was me babe,” Michael scoffed. “Babe, I had to be sure you were taken care of”. He gritted his teeth as he glanced down at the gun beside him. “I’ll be honest, I’m not too fond of this… Tom, guy though, that you’ve brought into our lives,” he complained.

Y/n faltered. At this point, she didn’t know how to proceed. She didn’t know what Michael knew or perceived. “I- I-…” she stuttered nervously.

"I mean, really, babe?” Michael groaned as he shook his head. “Why be with Tom Holland?” “What does he have that I don't?” He asked with his arms crossed over his chest.

“He isn’t a stalkerish psycho,” y/n blurted. "So it’s more of what he doesn’t do that you do,” she said, her hand quickly covering her mouth. She hadn’t meant to say that out loud. Well, there went trying to keep Michael ‘on her side’.

Michael instantly gripped the gun with one hand and the edge of the table with the other. His face demonstrated his sudden but deep agitation. “You’re a hard one to please, dear,” he nearly hissed. “But, no worries, in time I’ll learn your intricacies.” Michael let go of the gun as he rose to pour y/n some wine.

Y/n watched in anger and fear as Michael got closer. She was beyond fed up of trying to run and hide from him. She was tired of him altogether. She just wanted her life back. “Wh-What do you want from me, Michael?”

Michael squinted at y/n in confusion. “To be with me,” he said simply.

Y/n swallowed as she scooted her chair back slightly. “I’ve told you-“ she reminded gently.

“I know,” Michael nodded. “You see me as a friend,” he acknowledged briefly. “But, friends often become more than friends. You just need to give me a chance”.

“I did,” y/n argued angrily. She’d given him a chance to still be her friend after the first incident. But things hadn’t gotten any better.

Michael squeezed the wine bottle tightly until it broke. He sighed as y/n gasped and leapt from her seat in a panic. But, he nonetheless calmly cleaned up the mess as if it wasn’t some angry outburst. “I meant a real chance, dear,” he corrected though his teeth. “We’ll have time for that soon enough though”.

Y/n utilized Michael looking at the broken shards of glass from the wine bottle to slip the serrated steak knife into her back pocket. “What do you mean?” She asked, partially out of fear and partially to keep him talking. She’d try to wait this out, but if things went wrong, at least she now had a defensive option/weapon.

“I know you enjoy working on set here,” Michael said with what was likely an attempt at a sympathetic frown. “But, our relationship needs to come first, not work”.

“Relationship?” Y/n questioned, stepping back further from the table; and from Michael.

Michael groaned loudly as he picked the gun back up. But, he kept it low and at his side. “I don’t appreciate the fake dumb act, dear,” he scolded. “You’re far too smart for that babe,” he said with a glare, as if in warning. But, Michael quickly snapped back to an overly welcoming expression. “Now, as I was saying,” he redirected happily, “you’ll be coming with me when I leave Berlin tomorrow”. He stepped to the side of the table to approach y/n. “I’ve got your room already set up,” Michael smiled.

Y/n took another step back as she kept her eyes on Michael. “M-my… room?” She questioned. “Leave?”. Y/n rapidly shook her head. “Michael, I’m sorry, but, I think you’re confused,” She tried to empathize.

“I’m not confused!” Michael shouted. His right hand smacked loudly against the table beside him. The dishes rang out in the otherwise quiet room as they tried to steady themselves. “Sorry, dear,” Michael murmured upon seeing y/n’s fear. “Now, as I was saying,” he sighed.

Y/n jumped as a sudden knock hit her door. Someone was here. Tom. It was likely Tom. She still hadn’t settled on whether or not she wanted him to be here for this. Nor if it was okay for her to want such a thing. But that didn’t matter, because Michael had already stomped over to the front door.

Y/n watched silently as Michael peered through the door hole. She noticed the way he gripped the handle of his gun tighter as he glared through the tiny circular window. She froze with wide eyes as he spun towards her suddenly.

“Why is he here?” Michael spat as he stormed towards y/n, waving his gun frantically.

“W-well…,” y/n mumbled quietly. “W-We had a date n-night pl-“ she tried to defend cautiously.

Michael pointed the gun at y/n’s forehead as he glared at her. “No, WE had a date night planned,” he hissed, moving his pointer finger to the trigger. “Get rid of him,” he commanded. Michael grabbed y/n’s bicep and tugged her towards the door.

Y/n nodded frantically. “Tom, I’m coming!” she dared to call out. At least this way Tom would know she was home. That way he wouldn’t just leave and she might even be able to secretly alert him to get her help. She yelped as Michael’s free hand suddenly clapped over her mouth.

Michael dug the barrel into the side of y/n’s head. He lowered the hand from her lips and nodded towards the front door. “Casually!” He whispered harshly. “Don’t act so fearful,” he said, his voice softening drastically, “it’s just me”. When y/n refused to move, he nudged her forward. “Now, go”.

“Don’t act fearful says when there’s a gun to your head,” y/n mumbled to herself as she moved away from Michael. She took a deep breath and slowly opened the door. She schooled her expression into what she hoped would meet Michael’s demands.

Tom looked up from the flowers and wine in his hand as he heard the creaking of y/n’s door. His heart dropped upon making eye contact with her. She was clearly not herself. “Love, what’s the matter?” He asked worriedly.

Y/n resisted a small smile at how attentive Tom was. She shook her head and gave him a sad frown. “I.. uhh…,” she mumbled, pausing when she felt the cold metallic of Michael’s gun move back to the side of her head. “I’m not f-feeling well,” she stated, avoiding eye contact with Tom.

“I can see that, darling,” Tom frowned. He discarded the wine and flowers on the ground beside y/n’s door. “What happened? Did you get another ca-” he began to ask.

Y/n cut Tom off before he could finish his question. She knew he was going to ask if Michael had called her again, and that was the last thing she needed right now. “I-.. I’m sick,” she lied weakly.

Tom squinted. “Does your head hurt?” He interrogated as he scanned y/n’s face.

“What?” Y/n croaked.

Tom pouted, his brows furrowed. “You’ve been crying,” he stated.

Y/n lifted a shaky hand to her face. She hadn’t realized she’d cried at some point between arriving home to Michael’s intrusion and now. But, as her fingers trailed over her cheeks, she realized Tom was right. “O-oh, just-just feeling crummy, is all,” she tried.

Tom didn’t want to pry if y/n needed a night alone. But something told him he shouldn’t leave. If she was truly that sick, he should stay to take care of her. “Why don’t I help?” He offered, taking her hands in his. “I have a strong immune system and can order us some soup-”.

Y/n rapidly shook her head, making Tom release her hands and take a respectful step back to give her space. God, she was already in love with him, wasn’t she?. “I.. it’s not that kind of sick,” she explained. After she noticed the confusion in Tom’s face, she added, “and I just want to sleep”. She felt guilty for the way Tom’s face dropped even more. “Raincheck?”

Tom was still internally questioning the circumstances. But, he wanted to respect y/n’s boundaries so he nodded slowly. “Of course, darling,” he agreed. Tom knew he had to push aside the worry that came with seeing y/n’s wild eyes and clammy skin; she’d all but asked him to leave multiple times now, he needed to do as she asked. “I.. I’ll see you on set tomorrow then, yeah?” He questioned still feeling something was off.

Y/n nodded reluctantly, not wanting to make a promise she wasn’t sure she would be around to keep.

Tom slowly stepped closer, watching for any signs that y/n didn’t want him to give her a goodnight kiss. When she didn’t show any rejection, he leaned forward and pressed a gentle kiss on her lips. “Goodnight darling,” Tom whispered, “feel better”.

“Th-thank you,” y/n replied with a small sad smile. Would that be their last kiss? She had to do something. “Goodnight, T-Thomas,” she croaked, making eye contact with him one last time before stepping back to close her door.

Michael dragged y/n away from her front door by her elbow. “What was that kiss?” He growled. Michael glared at y/n as she looked down and tried to stifle her crying. He sighed and pulled y/n into his arms. “I can’t stay mad at you,” he confessed, nuzzling his nose against the top of her head. Michael didn’t seem to notice the way y/n shook in his arms, crying more forcefully now. “Shhh,” he said, it coming off as a demand. When her cries softened in volume, he grinned and squeezed her against him, “that’s my girl”.

Y/n could no longer miss the fact that she was crying. At this point, her tears were actively streaming down both of her puffy cheeks. “Please!” she pleaded, trying to wedge her hands up between her and Michael’s chest to push him back.

Before Michael could react to y/n’s pleas, the front door swung open.

Tom had quietly waited outside after y/n shut the door; unable to ignore the worry he was feeling. His concerns had only amplified when y/n called him Thomas instead of Tom. She never did that. Something was wrong. He was just glad that he hadn’t heard the sound of y/n locking her door after closing it; suggesting it was still unlocked. As such, he readied himself and threw the door open.

Michael spun towards the door, allowing y/n to wiggle free from his grip. He glared at Tom as the man ran towards him with rage in his eyes. As Tom dove into his torso, Michael’s gun slipped from his hold. Meaning the two ended up in a brief hand-to-hand tussle.

After a successful knee strike against Michael, Tom rushed towards y/n. He prayed his grabbing her wouldn’t scare her, but he had to act quickly. Tom gently, but securely, grabbed her hand and tugged her behind him. He positioned himself between her and Michael. “I know it’s hard,” Tom whispered breathily. “But, I need you to trust me,” he explained as he shifted them so they continued to face Michael as the man stalked closer. “Everything is going to be alright,” Tom promised as he reached back and squeezed y/n’s hand. “Do as I, darling, I’ll get you out of here”.

“What do you think you’re doing, mate?” Tom asked Michael as he tried to plan a way to get y/n to safety. “Just leave her be”.

Michael glared at the couple as he stormed closer. “She’s mine,” he growled.

“She’s not property, mate,” Tom corrected with an eye roll. He held his palm out flatly behind his back to signal for y/n to stop; to stay where she was. Tom took several steps forward, towards Michael and away from y/n.

Michael closed the remaining distance between him and Tom, glaring the whole time. “Don’t talk about her,” he growled. Now that he was within striking distance, he raised his fist.

“Hide! Now!” Tom advised as he blocked Michael’s fist with his palm. As he watched y/n run out of the room and into the hallway, he counterattacked, trying to swipe Michael off his feet. It worked, but on the way down, the stalker tried to pull Tom with him. Thank God for the fight training he had to do for Spider-Man and Uncharted!

Tom and Michael wrestled for several minutes. Tom knew the creep was muttering something, but he didn’t bother to try to decipher it. All that mattered was trying to subdue him so y/n could get away. However, Tom’s plans halted when it appeared that Michael had somehow found the gun he’d dropped earlier, and now he had Tom at gunpoint.

Michael grinned wickedly at Tom as he stood up and signaled for Tom to remain kneeling. He used his free hand to wipe the blood from his busted lip. “Y/n, dear!” He called out as he moved behind Tom to hook his arm around his torso. When she didn’t come out of hiding, he groaned loudly and placed his finger on the trigger. “If you don’t come out babe, I’m going to shoot this idiot,” he threatened.

“Don-” Tom groaned as he wriggled in Michael’s hold. “Don’t!” He shouted, hoping y/n wouldn’t listen to the stalker’s demands.

“Shut the hell up!” Michael snapped, tightening his hold on Tom. He pulled Tom closer, making Tom’s back more flush against his torso and dug the barrel of his gun into Tom’s temple. “Y/n, if you care about your friend, you’ll-” he warned.

Y/n’s appearance in the living room cut Michael’s threat off. She stared with wide eyes as she stood before Tom and Michael. This was her mess; she got Tom into this. She needed to get him out of it. “I-I’ll go,” she said with a visible gag. “I’ll-”.

“No!” Tom shouted as he fought against Michael. He even brought his elbow backwards into the man’s torso. But, this only resulted in Michael digging the barrel further into his temple.

“Stop!” Y/n begged. She didn’t care that she’d given up any leverage she may have had. Tom needed to get out of here. No one else needed to suffer. “Just,” y/n cried, “just stop hurting him, hurting anyone, and…” She swallowed thickly, “and then… I’ll go”.

“Y/n!” Tom hissed as he stared at her with wide pleading eyes. “Don’t do this!”

“Willingly,” Michael added. When y/n didn’t seem to understand his statement, he stared at her expectantly.

Y/n nodded shakily. “Y-yes,” she whispered. “Wi-will….,” she paused. After she took a deep breath, y/n cleared her throat. “Willingly,” she lied, the words barely choked out before her tears started to fall. It was a lie, it wasn’t willingly. Nothing about this was willingly done. But she would willingly choose to protect Tom. Besides, she knew there was no way Michael was going to just let Tom live. She knew he saw him as a threat. He was just currently using him as leverage. So, y/n figured she might as well try to flip the situation on Michael.

Tom shook as he scratched at Michael’s arm that was wrapped across his front. “Y/n,” he pleaded, “no, don’t do this! Please!”

Y/n shot Tom a sympathetic look. She wanted to try to silently communicate that she wasn’t going as willingly as she stated, but she couldn’t risk Michael noticing. “I’m sorry,” she sighed.

Michael hummed cockily. “That’s my girl,” he declared with a grin. “I knew you’d choose me”. He slowly released Tom, keeping the gun on him while Tom snapped up and into a fighting stance. He kept an eye on Tom as he walked nearer to y/n, the gun pointed squarely at Tom the whole time. Yet, he noticed the way Tom nevertheless moved closer as if still willing to fight.

Michael waved y/n over to him smugly. When she was by his side, he lifted his free hand up to stroke her cheek, causing Tom to lung forward slightly. “Ah ah,” he scolded, “she said she was doing this willingly”. “I won’t have you violating her boundaries and wishes,” Michael stated ironically.

Y/n’s eyes nearly popped out of her head when she heard Michael say to Tom “now you have to just watch as she kisses her actual crush”. She froze in disgust and panic. But, she quickly recovered as the expectant look on Michael’s face helped her realize she had to play along. She took a deep breath and summoned up any acting ability she may somehow secretly have.

Y/n begrudgingly neared Michael. She closed her eyes as she moved her lips until they were millimeters away from his. She set one hand on his shoulder; for both stabilization and distraction. The other hand she kept at her side, fingers slipping into her pockets.

Just as Michael seemed to become fed up with waiting and began to move his head closer, y/n swiped the serrated steak knife from dinner out of her pocket and slammed it into his arm that was holding the gun. She instinctively took a step back as blood spurted from the wound. However, she knew she didn’t have long; Michael was going to be livid.

Y/n pulled the knife out of Michael’s arm, trying not to dry heave at the sight and sensation of his muscles and tendons tearing against it as she did. She noticed the gun had lowered from being aimed at Tom and was not just hanging at his side. But, before she could grab it and hold him at by gunpoint until the police got there, she watched Michael try to lift the injured arm to point the gun at her as his other arm gripped her hip.

Y/n quickly plunged her weapon into Michael’s thigh and pulled downwards. She once again removed the knife from his leg as she stepped back. She noticed he’d dropped the gun in an attempt to grab at the sudden wound to his thigh. So, this time y/n tossed the bloody knife across the room so Michael couldn’t use it against her. Simultaneously, she scooped up the gun and moved backwards as she pointed it at him.

Y/n had never held a gun before, much less shot one. Prop guns on a movie set? Sure! But a real one, not until now. The weight of it and what it symbolized felt heavier than even the blood-soaked knife she’d stabbed Michael with. As such, she was too distracted by the chaos to notice Tom’s warning shout as Michael grabbed at her leg from the ground. Within seconds, her body slammed to the floor. She groaned loudly but otherwise kept her advantage, the gun only moving off of Michael for a split second.

Y/n kicked and scooted across the ground, her leg hurting too much for her to dare risking an attempt to stand up. She kept the barrel pointed at Michael as she slid further from him. She noticed Tom placing himself between her and Michael as they glared at each other across the floor.

Tom watched Michael closely as he tried to back up slowly until he could reach y/n. Only, he abruptly stopped and went to change directions and head towards her stalker as the man suddenly rose and began charging. Tom and Michael exchanged blows once again. His hand slipped in the blood on Michael’s arm as he tried to grab him, allowing Michael to escape his hold for a moment. But that was all it took for the man to charge towards y/n. Before Tom could even attempt to get ahold of him once again, a gunshot rang out.

Y/n had seen the look in Michael’s eyes as he fought with Tom. She was trying to figure out how to get him to stop. Did she shook him? Just threaten to do so? And if that didn’t work, then actually shoot him? She didn’t have a chance to figure it out when suddenly he was racing her way yet again. With slightly trembling fingers, y/n aimed the gun at Michael’s legs and pulled the trigger. She screamed as the shot rang out and Michael dropped to the ground.

Tom immediately sprinted over to y/n. He threw himself into the floor beside her. He cautiously set his hand over her shaking ones that were still holding the gun. Once she let go of it, he took it from her and moved it to his right hand. With his left hand, he pulled y/n to his side and tried to rub her back.

“I-,” y/n gasped. “I had to do it,” she defended quietly, her eyes still on Michael’s crumpled form.

“I know,” Tom reassured y/n. He held her body tighter to him as he felt her tears soak his shirt. The gun was still in his other hand, but pointed at Michael in case the man was stupid enough to try again. Tom wasn’t going to take any chances. Michael wasn’t coming anywhere near y/n ever again.

Y/n turned her gaze away from her stalker and buried her face in Tom’s side when he tapped her cheek to try to distract her. “I… I didn’t w-wa-want to shoot him,” she cried. Despite Tom’s supportive hold on her, she shook violently against him.

“I know, it’s okay,” Tom promised, resting his chin atop y/n’s head.

“No,” y/n gasped as she choked on a sob. “I-…. it’s not okay,” she argued. “I just shot someone!”

Tom frowned. “‘ey, ‘ey,” he whispered, his left hand gently lifting y/n’s damp chin up so she would look at him. “‘ey,” he repeated when she finally met his gaze. “He was charging at you.” “You did the right thing,” Tom informed her.

Y/n sniffled and hiccuped as she tried to compose herself. “You’re… You’re not afraid of me?” She asked, her voice cracking.

Tom shook his head. “No, love, ‘course not,” he promised quickly. “I’m proud of you for doing what you had to,” he admitted solemnly.

Once y/n was in less of a panicked state, Tom quickly scanned her body for any injuries. “How’s your leg?” He asked, glancing between her and Michael rapidly as to not take his eye off the threat for too long.

Y/n stretched the leg in question out before her. “Just sore, I think,” she answered as she felt out the extent of the injury from her fall.

Tom sighed in relief, quickly pulling y/n back to his side.

“Are you okay?” Y/n croaked out after a few moments of hesitant silence. She was afraid to ask the question. She hadn’t noticed any excessive injuries, but it had all happened so fast she couldn’t be sure.

Tom heard the deep worry in y/n’s tone and hummed. “I’m fine,” he promised, tenderly squeezing her hip for effect. “Much better now that you’re here, and he’s over there,” Tom pointed out as he nodded his head towards Michael.

Y/n whimpered in tired agreement. She nuzzled into Tom’s embrace, appreciating the protection and love she felt. “Th-thank-,” she began.

“Don’t you dare thank me,” Tom spoke softly. “It’s not needed,” he promised. He crooked his neck and placed a light kiss to y/n’s head. “We’re safe now”.

Tom lifted the blanket up to keep y/n tucked in. She was resting curled up against him, his arms wrapped securely around her shrunken frame. They were seated on the couch at his apartment, under several oversized fuzzy blankets as y/n had been freezing; seemingly from her lingering anxiety after tonight’s events. By now they’d already talked to the police and completed any forms they’d been asked to do. They ventured to Tom’s apartment as y/n understandably didn’t want to be in her apartment any longer; plus, it was a crime scene still. But despite the change in environment and how tiring the situation had been, neither one could find sleep. So, they simply held each other as they snuggled on the couch.

Y/n hesitantly broke the silence. The fact that they didn’t feel the need to talk about it right away was a relief. But, there was one question that was bugging her. “Tom?” She asked quietly.

Tom pressed his back against the couch cushions so he could see y/n better. “Yes, darling?” He replied, a small but sympathetic smile on his face as he sensed her reluctance to speak.

“How… I’m glad you did,” y/n said vaguely. “But…,” she nervously bit her bottom lip. “How did… how did you know something was wrong?” She wondered.

“You called me Thomas,” Tom answered easily.

“Wh-what?” Y/n questioned.

Tom smiled and cupped y/n’s cheek with his right hand, the other staying protectively placed on her hip. “Darling, you never call me Thomas, only Tom,” he pointed out.

Y/n bit her bottom lip. It worked. “I… I didn’t know how else to signal it,” she admitted. “But… I… well, I wasn’t sure it would work, that you’d notice the slight difference”.

Tom squeezed y/n’s cheek lovingly. “I notice everything when it comes to you,” he said. “Especially if it has to do with your safety or wellbeing,” he added with a faint smile.

Y/n smiled back softly. “I’m glad,” she confessed. “On the bright side,” she murmured, turning to rest the back of her head against Tom’s chest. “At least now I know how to alert you if someone’s wrong, or if he-“.

“He’s never going to hurt you again,” Tom vowed. He tightened his grip on y/n protectively. “I will do whatever it takes to ensure you never have to worry about him again, trust me”.

“I do,” y/n commented warmly as she squeezed Tom’s hands that were locked around her waist. “I trust you, Tom,” she promised.

——————

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