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bloody-peach · 3 months

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Eat Me, Drink Me (Hazbin Hotel: Vox x F!Reader smut fic)

(Gif made by me, original image found on google images)

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Now Playing: Muse - Sing for Absolution, Marilyn Manson - Blood Honey

Goodie bag: vaginal sex, drugs (aphrodisiac), vaginal fingering, clit rubbing, drinking, dom Vox, bottom Y/N, vanilla stuff around the end [let me know if i missed anything!]

A/N: Yep, had to make some smut with Vox now, didn't I? Welp, here ya go! I would recommend listening to the recommended songs while reading this, to get into the atmosphere. Headphones required, just for added experience. ENJOY!!

Taglist: @omniuravity @fatgumsurpremacy-remastered @neonvehk

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You left the Hotel, exhausted. You had to deal with Niffty trying to kill new guests, Angel Dust’s bullshit with Cherri Bomb, and Husk drinking his life away on top of all the other duties you had there. But the worst of the worst was Alastor, he always loved to torment you and make you suffer or feel scared. Even now as you walk further away from the building, you could still hear his laugh deep in your mind. At least you were able to leave for the night, but you always felt like someone was watching you. Someone....much more powerful than you.

Vox, the TV Demon, has had his eye on you for some time, ever since he caught you on the hotel’s TV commercial. He remembers pausing the clip when it froze on you and he’d jack off, just imagining of what he could do to you. He was obsessed. And he decided that tonight was the night.

You kept walking when you heard electricity buzzing. You looked and it was just a broken neon sign, but it still left you uncomfortable. You kept walking, but the buzzing came back. You started to quicken your pace to try to escape the noise or the potential source of it, but it just kept following you, even when you started to run. You then run into a brick wall, realizing you must’ve turned a wrong way while you ran. You just turned with your back against the wall, unable to escape. You saw a glowing blue square in the dark along with small blue zaps of electricity spreading through the area. Soon, the thing came closer to reveal it was Vox, the overlord that controlled the masses through the visual media. You had never met him before, but you felt a sense of dread, thinking this was another guy just like Alastor. Once he came close to you, he said, “It’s nice to finally meet you, darlin'.” You sigh in mild annoyance and say, “Look, I just...Alastor already torments me. If you just want to make my life a living hell like he does, then don’t bother. I don’t need another demon doing it too.” You didn’t have anything against him in particular, you were just too stressed out to deal with another demon who wanted to watch you suffer.

Vox’s red eyes flickered with a mix of confusion, then it turned to deep-seated rage. “Alastor...” he snarled. He controlled himself and then looked at you, with a slightly annoyed look in his face. “Is that why you were running? Because of that radio trash?” He put his hands behind his back, and said, “You know I’m not like him, right? I ain’t the type to get off to torturing folks. Well, not much at least. But you’re different.” He smiled as he placed his hand on your shoulder, “I don’t want to see you suffer, Y/N. I...well, i’m not entirely sure what I want with you.” He looked a little sheepish, an emotion you didn’t expect from him, but he quickly fixed himself and played with a strand of your hair. “But I do know I don’t want you to be afraid of me. I don’t plan on hurting you.”

You wondered why he knew your name, but then another thought came to mind. “Wait...you know Alastor?” He then chuckled, saying, “Do I know him? I wish I didn’t. That motherfucker and I go way back. Can’t stand him, frankly. He’s all about radio and all that outdated shit, but me? I’m all for anything new, as you can see.” He then petted your head. “Has he been giving you a hard time? Of course he would, he always enjoys that kind of shit. You poor thing.” His gaze softened as you put your head down, your expression full of fear and sadness, due to those traumatic memories. Vox gently grabbed your chin and brought your head up to look at him, saying with an unusual tenderness, “I promise you, Y/N, I ain’t like that. I can be...different. If you’d let me.”

You got the sense that he seemed to care for your struggles, but you’ve been in Hell for a long time. Very rarely have you encountered a person who actually cared about anyone. The only ones you knew of were Charlie and Vaggie, and out of all of Hell, that’s saying something. How can you trust what this man was saying? How can you be sure he isn’t out to hurt you or take advantage of you?

You look away from him, your face still holding that sad expression. “I want to believe you, but...how do I know you’re not just manipulating me? This is Hell, after all. Hard to find a genuine soul around here.” Vox sighed, the sound of static echoing through the alleyway. His eyes held a look of understanding, a flash of empathy. “Can’t say I blame ya for thinkin’ that way,” he admitted. “This place isn’t exactly known for its honesty.” He petted your head again, this time almost touching his forehead on yours, his voice going soft. “I don't know if I can promise you heaven, Y/N. But what I can promise you is that I ain’t here to make your life more miserable than it already is.” He then extended his hand, a smile on his face, “How about we try something? No tricks, no manipulation. Just you and I. See where it goes.”

You think about it. Well, he did seem pretty convincing, and whatever he had to offer had to be much better than what you have to deal with on a day-to-day basis.

You sigh and say as you shake his hand, “Ok.” Vox’s screen lit up with a cheerful grin as he felt your hand in his, the cool electricity sparking between your fingers. “That’s more like it, Y/N!” He said as he shook your hand. He let go of your hand and stepped back with a flourish. “Now let’s get outta this dump. If we’re gonna be...whatever we are, we might as well do it in style.” He then had an idea, his eyes glowing with excitement. “How about we head to my place? The entertainment district ain’t much, but it beats this shithole any day.” His usual cocky smile returned, the light of his screen casting a glow around the alley. “Besides, I’ve got the best view in Hell. You won’t be disappointed, I can assure you.” You smile, liking the idea. “Ok, that sounds real nice.”

You end up following him to his place and you’re amazed at how luxurious it was. Expensive furniture, so clean you could eat off of the floor, and a couch in front of a large window, showing the hellish night sky. You look out the window and he could see your eyes sparkle with delight as you marveled his abode. “Wow...you can see all of Hell from up here!” He chuckled as he crossed his arms, finding your joy adorable. He could get used to making you this happy. “Told ya, didn’t I? Best view in Hell.” He strode over to join you by the window, his eyes looking down at the fiery grounds below. “You get a good look at this place, you realize it ain’t all that bad. Got its charms, don’t it?” You turn to him and you nod. He turns to look at you, a genuine smile lighting up his screen. “Glad you like it, Y/N. Hopefully it makes your whole...situation a bit more bearable.” His gaze lingered on you for a few moments longer before he turned away to the bar, his screen showing an unclear emotion. “Now, how ‘bout a drink? I got a stash of the finest bourbon in all of Hell. Helps take the edge off.” “A drink sounds great. Thanks.”

He smiles to himself, knowing that you were slowly starting to warm up to him. “One helluva drink, coming right up!” As he grabs the bottle of bourbon, he then had a thought. He sat the bourbon down and dug out a small vial from the inside of his tux. It was a bottle of Valentino and Velvette’s ‘Love Potion’, an aphrodisiac they were collaborating on. Val gave him a bottle as a gift, but he never thought of using it. But knowing what Y/N had been going though day by day, dealing with that radio fucker’s bullshit all the time, he figured that maybe you needed a little something to help you relax, to feel pleasure and bliss instead of pain and fear. It’s not a betrayal of your trust if there’s good intentions behind it, right?

He pours the potion into the bourbon and mixed it, making sure Y/N wasn’t looking. “This stuff’s got a kick like a mule, but it’s smooth. Just like me.” He chuckles at his own joke, and he hears her giggle along with it. Oh, how he adored that laugh and how he hoped that once his plan worked, he would hear more of it, along with other lovely sounds. Once he poured a glass for himself, he brought the glasses to the couch, giving you the tainted drink and offering you to sit on the couch with him. You couldn’t help but blush a tiny bit from how he looked, the way he was sitting, offering you to join him in a moment to yourselves. You sat next to him, a bit shy, but soon relaxing in the couch. Vox raised his glass, the light from his screen reflecting from the swirling liquor. “To new beginnings, Y/N. May they be as interesting as the journey here.” With that, you both clinked your glasses together, the sound echoing through the room as you both take a long sip, his eyes never leaving you. Luckily, you didn’t notice his gaze as you downed the drink completely.

You could handle bourbon pretty well, that’s pretty much what Husk served at the bar usually, but never as high quality as this. “Man, this stuff is really good. Sweeter than any other bourbon I’ve had.” ‘Yeah, that’s the love potion that’s doing that,’ Vox thought in his head. He smirks, watching you enjoy the drink. His heart pounded in his chest, light flicks of static on his screen due to anticipation. “Glad ya like it, Y/N. It’s a special brand, adds a bit of sweetness to the usual burn. Perfect for those wanting to unwind.” He couldn’t deny the thrill he felt, seeing you this relaxed and comfortable in his presence, even if it was artificially manufactured. He knew it must’ve been a rare sight, one he’d yearned to see for a while now.

He finishes his drink, sitting his empty glass on the coffee table. “Feeling better, sweetheart?” He asks, a tinge of genuine concern in his voice. As he asked that, you started to feel a change in your body. You started to feel way more relaxed, your mind beginning to feel a bit hazy. You weren’t sure why; maybe the bourbon was that good. Your body started to feel hot and you could feel a throbbing feeling between your legs. “I...I’m not sure...I...I feel kinda funny...” you say, your voice slightly slurred. Vox’s smirk widened, his eyes glowing with a devilish delight. “Oh, it’s just the effects of the bourbon, darlin’. Besides, you’ve been so stressed out, you haven’t had any time to just sit and relax.” He moved closer, his hand lightly tracing a line up your arm, causing you to shiver. “Just relax and enjoy the ride, Y/N. I promise it’ll be one hell of a time.” His voice drops to a sultry whisper, his breath sending shivers down your spine. “You trust me, don’t you?” You feel your face grow even warmer as he started to pull you closer to him, his face so close to yours. “I..I guess so... You are a lot nicer than Alastor..” Vox chuckled, the sound low and rich in his throat. “Well, that’s the highest praise i’ve ever heard.” His hand rested on the small of your back, his fingers tracing small circles against your shirt. “I told ya, didn’t I? I ain’t like him. Not one bit.” He tilted his screen down, his glowing eyes meeting your slightly dilated ones. “Just relax, my dear. Let ol’ Vox take care of ya. You won’t regret it.” With that, he leaned in, pressing his lips against your forehead softly, something you were confused on how that worked, but that thought flew away like all the others. “Just trust me, Y/N. I won’t let ya down.”

In what your mind could come up with, as you stared at him and as he spoke with you, the thought of letting him take the wheel was starting to sound really good and you figured that it was better to trust him than anyone else in Hell. At least for now. “Ok..” Vox’s screen lit up with a triumphant grin, his red eyes glowing with delight. “That’s my girl,” he purred, his hand tightening around your waist. He leaned in, pressing his lips against yours in a slow, deliberate kiss. He whispered against your lips, “You're so cute, Y/N. Just keep relaxing. There’s no need to fight it.” His other hand started explore, trailing down your body to rest on your thigh. His fingers squeezed gently, a small spark of electricity coursing through your body, causing you to moan. He knew your body was growing more sensitive by the minute. He pulled back, his screen displaying a smug smirk. “That’s it, baby. Enjoy the good feelings. Don’t be afraid, darlin’. I’ll take good care of you.”

His hand continued its exploration, trailing up your thigh to rest on your hip. He dug his fingers into your flesh, pulling you even closer against him. His screen returned to your face, his eyes locking onto yours. “You’re so responsive, sweetheart. It’s...intoxicating.” He leans in to your ear, his screen barely touching it. “I’m here. There’s no need to be scared.” His touch felt so good, all you wanted in that moment was for him to touch you more. “Ok,” you said. Vox chuckled, his eyes glowing with anticipation. “That’s what I like to hear, Y/N.” His hand slid up from your hip, tracing a path up your side and under your shirt. His fingers curled around your breast, squeezing gently, causing a soft gasp to escape your lips. “You’re so sensitive, darlin’. It’s so sweet.” His other hand slid down, resting on your thigh once more. He pulls your leg around him, positioning himself between your legs. He then starts to slowly strip you of your clothes. You were getting really hot, so it was a relief to get all those clothes off. Soon, you were completely nude before him, on full display. Vox’s eyes roamed your naked form, a low buzz rumbing from his chest. “Damn, Y/N. You’re even more beautiful than I imagined.” His hands traced over your body, exploring every inch of your skin. He savored every moan and gasp, his touch sparking bits of static wherever he touched. He leaned in, his lips against your neck. “I'll make you feel all kinds of good, baby...”

His hand slid down, tracing a path down your body to rest between your thighs. His fingers teased your folds, a spark of static making you gasp. “That’s it, Y/N, just enjoy it,” he murmured, his voice a soft whisper in your ear. He then moved his face to you and kissed you deeply. You kissed back just as deep, moaning in his mouth as you felt his fingers slowly slip into your pussy. Vox groaned into the kiss, his fingers going deeper into you. He savored your moans, the taste of you on his screen intoxicating. He pulled back, a devilish smirk on his face. “You’re so wet, baby. All for me.” His fingers curled inside you, hitting that sweet spot that made you gasp. His other hand was busy teasing your nipple, pinching and twisting it until you were writhing in his arms. “You’re doing so good, sweetheart. I'm so proud of you...”

With that, he picked up the pace, his fingers pumping in and out of you with a fervor that left you breathless. You moaned more, the pleasure growing in intensity, “Ahh..mm..ohh..” Vox grinned and moved his fingers faster, his thumb rubbing circles around your clit. The combination of him working on your pussy and playing with your breast had you crying out, your body trembling in his arms. “You’re so close, I can feel it. Go ahead and cum for me, baby girl.” It’s not too long until you cum, covering his hand in your juices as your body tensed up.

Vox growled, his eyes glowing with satisfaction as he felt you release all over his hand. His fingers slowed, gently stroking you through your orgasm. He slowly removed his hand and marveled at the wetness on it, licking it up until his hand was clean. “You taste so good, darlin’. So good..” His hand moved up, gently brushing a stray hair from your face. “You alright, Y/N?” You were there, still somewhat dazed from your orgasm. But there was one thought going through your head. “I...I...more...I need more...please...” Vox chuckled, “Needy little girl, aren’t you? Don’t worry, baby. I’m far from done with ya.” With that, he gently laid you down on the couch, his screen and his body hovering over you. “You ready for more, Y/N?” “Yes...please...I need it...” Vox’s eyes glowed with excitement. “Good girl, ” he purred. You see him take his jacket and pants off, revealing his hard and erect cock. You just sat there, amazed by its size. Could an overlord have a cock that big? Vox smiled, saying, “You like what you see?” He gave his cock a few strokes, pre-cum leaking from the tip. “It’s all for you, baby girl.”

With that, he lined himself up with your entrance, his hands holding your thighs gently. He slowly pushed himself inside you, groaning at the tightness that enveloped him. “Fuuck...that’s it, baby... take it in deep..” Once he was fully inside you, he started to move, his thrusts slow and deliberate. You gasp and moan in pleasure as he thrusts into you, wrapping your arms around his neck and letting the pleasure consume you. Vox felt a wave of pleasure hit him as he felt your arms go around him. “That’s it, baby. Let it all out.” His thrusts picked up in pace, each one hitting that sweet spot inside you. His hand moved down, his fingers slowly rubbing your clit. “You’re so tight, darlin’. So fucking good..” With that, he picked up the pace, his cock pumping in and out of you. “Ahh..ohh..V..Vox...i..it feels so good...” you moaned, causing Vox to grin. “That’s what I like to hear, baby.” He continued his assault on your pussy, pounding into you so much that you were seeing stars. You weren’t sure how many times you came, but you didn’t care. You just wanted Vox to keep fucking you.

“Gahh, fuck yeah...gotta get even deeper...” He then stopped his thrusts and pulled out of you, flipped you onto your belly, and grabbed your hips. “Hold on tight, Y/N. It’s gonna be a wild ride.” He lined himself up with your entrance once more, pushing inside you with a single thrust. He quickly sped up his thrusts, making you a moaning mess. “Ahh..oohh..yes...yes..I...I love it... I love your cock...!” Vox grinned a prideful smile, proud of the fact he was causing you to lose yourself just from his dick. “You’re such a dirty girl, baby. I fucking love it.” It’s not too long til he could feel his climax coming, and he felt your walls flutter, meaning yours was coming too. “Cum for me again, Y/N. Let it out.” “Ahh..mm..V..Vox..! Please cum in me..! Please..! Fill me up with your cum! I can’t take it anymore..!” Vox growled, your pleas of ecstasy driving him further over the edge. “You ready, baby girl? Ready for me to fill you up? I’ll do it, but only on one condition. You belong to me from now on. You like that?” “I..I’ll do it! I’ll only belong to you, Vox! Please, fuck me!” Vox smiled, thrusting even more. “Alright, darlin’. Here it comes...!” With one final, powerful thrust, Vox released inside you, his cock pulsing as he filled you with his cum. “That’s it, baby..Take it...take it all..” You cum at the same time he does, feeling his cum filling up your womb. You cry out in pure pleasure, your body riddled with pleasure. It was the best orgasm you’ve ever had. Vox kept thrusting, but he started to slow down, letting you both ride your orgasms for as long as possible.

Once everything was done, he pulled out of you and marveled at the cum-covered mess your pussy had become. He smiled, and pulled you into his arms, holding you close. “You did amazing, baby.” He brushed a strand of hair away and he looked at you, a bit concerned since you were so quiet, “You okay, Y/N? Do you need anything?” You turned to him and he was amazed at how beautiful you looked. Your eyes looked so full of joy and bliss, and your smile was so warm and genuine. You could almost cry if you saw it for yourself. He felt his heart flutter when he saw that. Yeah, he made the right choice.

You hug him and rest your head on his chest. “I love you so much...”

Time stood still for a moment for Vox when he heard those words. He hoped that he would hear those words come out of your lips towards him, and seeing and hearing it now, it filled his heart with joy. He slowly wrapped his arms around you, holding you close. He let out a quiet chuckle, his screen pressing against the top of your head. “Well you’re just full of surprises, aren’t you? I feel exactly the same, baby girl.” He gently waves his hand and summons a wisp of smoke around your neck and along his hand, it soon turning into a collar with a chain leash, him gently gripping onto the chain. You now belonged to him, permanently. And he wasn’t gonna let just anyone touch you like he just did.

He held you close, his hand gently stroking your back in a soothing rhythm. “Just rest now, Y/N. Vox has got you.” You let yourself drift off to sleep in his arms, forgetting about the world and any worries you had. Vox cleaned you up and carried you to his bed, laying you on it then entering it himself. He pulls you close, letting the sound of your breathing and the beating of your heart lull him to sleep.

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#hazbin hotel vox #hazbin hotel fanfic #hazbin hotel fanfiction #hazbin #hazbin hotel #hazbin vox #vox x y/n #vox x reader #vivziepop #fanfiction

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ironstrange1991 · 5 months

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Starting Over

Paring: Tony!Stark x Fem!Reader (Platonic)

Synopsis: Tony Stark is the best friend you can have when you're struggling with depression.

Word Count: 3k

Warnings: Mentions of alcohol and medications, depression, social isolation, suicidal thoughts (in the fic they appear in some ironic and deprecatives thoughts).

A/N: I'm not going to pretend I wasn't writing about myself in this fic, you're all too smart not to realize that. It's been difficult days, weeks, months and writing this fic has helped me in a way. There is a lot of angst but also some fluff moments. Hope you guys like it.

You were stuck. In life, in love, at work. The whole world seemed to be spinning, running, happening and you were just there, standing, motionless looking through the window, stuck in gravity.

You were depressed. Not just sad or down, but really depressed. After fighting depression for years, taking every type of antidepressant there was and not being able to get out of that state, you simply stopped trying. Depression was part of your personality now and you wore it almost like a battle trophy, a victory flag that you brandished as if to say: I survive.

Surviving became the thing you were best at. A true prodigy when the subject was to endure. You withstood the strong winds of life, endured through each wave of catastrophe, and remained. Even if inside you were falling apart.

To fall apart. What a funny way to say it. To actually fall apart it was necessary that, in principle, you had risen up at some point. That somehow, even if just for a little while, you had managed to let go of that sad and pitiful state, but that wasn't what happened. You never made it out. Once you got close, but the doors closed before you got through them. The sun set before you could finally reach it just like in that Marilyn Manson song. The same song that played on repeat now through your tv speakers as you sat on your couch in your small apartment on a Friday night after getting home from work. Your cat, Sebastian, sleeping lazily next to you on the couch, completely oblivious to your problems. You liked watching him sleep, he calmed you just by existing and you envied his innocence.

God, you hated Fridays. To be honest, there wasn't a day you liked when in fact you hated being alive. But Fridays were oppressive. They were like a reminder that the world was a living, breathing thing where things happened and you were on the outside, never a part of it.

On Fridays you would hear the conversations of your coworkers talking about the parties they were going to, the dates with their crushes, the family dinners, the happy hours with friends. You once heard a colleague saying that weekends are made for enjoying your family and you wondered if you would feel better if you had a family to run to.

All these fruitless and cursed inquiries would arrive on Fridays like an unwanted visitor and weigh on your chest as soon you close the door behind you and contemplate the emptiness of your apartment. Of your life.

I should get another cat. You would think every Friday night and ended up on the couch, like now, with a bottle of wine, a clonazepam pill, and the vain hope that one day maybe things could change or that one day you just wouldn't wake up on the next Saturday morning. The second option would always bring a sadistic smile to your lips.

Flirting with death again, Y/n. Why do you always end up on this couch flirting with death?!

You were distracted by your own thoughts, immersed so deep in them that the very air around you seemed thick and unbreathable when you heard the sound of the doorbell. You froze for a moment scared by the intrusion. The sound, which you weren't at all used to, sent a shiver down your spine.

There was only one person in the world who had access to your apartment, one person in the world who you trusted enough to give your address, your phone number, your friendship. And this person unfortunately had a too busy life to spend time with you. Even if he tried very hard.

However, contrary to everything you knew to be true, when you opened the door, he was the one standing there, dressed in jeans and a hoodie with the hood pulled to hide the majority of his face and a pair of sunglasses, although it was night. Tony Stark.

"What...?" You started to say, but were interrupted.

"Are you going to let me in or am I going to have to stand here and risk being recognized by one of your weird neighbors?"

You opened the door for him to enter and closed it behind you, still amazed that he was there in the first place.

You and Tony met at one of his science fairs. You worked for a technology company and he offered you a scholarship because he was enchanted by one of your creations. The rest was history. Well, in fact the rest was the only real friendship you had or have in your life, not counting the financial help that ensured you continued paying your rent when the company you worked for went bankrupt and you were fired.

"I've sent you at least ten messages all day. And I've tried calling you a thousand times." He ranted looking at you as if looking for something. "I thought you’ve died or worse."

"What could be worse than dying?" You asked, your voice sounding as monotonous as your life.

He raised an eyebrow but didn't respond, returning to where he had left off.

"What I'm trying to say is that I was worried about you. The last time we spoke you didn't seem well and that was two weeks ago."

You sighed, sitting down and he pushed Sebastian to the side so he could sit next to you. The old cat seemed to glare at him before getting off the couch and starting to lick the exact spot where Tony touched him.

"I'm fine. I'm sorry about the messages, I didn't know what to reply and I didn't see the calls because the cell phone is on do not disturb mode."

Tony sighed. "What's going on? Aren't the medicines working? Is there a problem at work?"

You shrugged. "Same as always. And I'm not taking medication, you'd know that if you read my latest messages, which you haven't done in the last week."

He didn't seem satisfied with your answer. "Why the hell did you stop the meds, Y/n? You just said they were helping!"

You shrugged. "For the first few weeks. Then they stopped working like all the others. Plus, they don't let me cry. It's a strange feeling."

Tony ran a hand over his face. "Isn't this a good thing?"

"Not really. They don't take the sadness away, Tony, they just don't let me cry it away."

He stared at the TV sighing. "I'm sorry I didn't respond to your messages. I was away. I just got back."

You nodded. "Out of the country?"

"Out of the planet." He said with a shrug "Alien threat, long story. The short version is that I was there leading a team and we won. The earth is saved again. I saved your life again, I'll send you the bill later."

You smirked "As far as it's up to me, you don't need to bother anymore."

Tony made a face, analyzing you closely, but didn't say anything.

"Why are you here, Tony? Really. Don't tell me you were just passing by because you have no reason to come to this side of town."

He sighed. "I'm worried about you. I dreamed about you last night. It was bad, really bad. It made me think..."

You frowned, waiting for him to continue, but instead he pulled you into a tight hug like he was afraid of losing you. You were surprised at first, but then you hugged him back and that feeling, the human touch, was enough to make you start crying.

"It’s okay." Tony whispered in your ear. "You can cry. I'm here, now."

And you cried. In a way you hadn't cried in a long time. All the feelings pent up inside your chest seemed to overflow and you felt relief, almost as if you had carried something heavy in your arms for a long time and could finally let go.

When the torrent of tears finally stopped you pulled away hugging your knees and feeling a little embarrassed, but Tony somehow always knew how to deal with every situation in such a natural way. Sometimes you would catch yourself looking at him and thinking how you could be so lucky to have him as a friend. Good things didn't usually happen to you, but Tony was an exception.

"Can we turn this thing off or at least find something decent to listen to?" He said while searching for the remote.

"Anything but your old man bands." You responded finding the strength somewhere to tease him. He rolled his eyes, finally finding the remote and turning off the TV.

He made himself comfortable on the couch and leaned his face in his hand, staring at you and simply said it. "I want you to come live with me."

And before you could show any reaction, he continued explaining himself.

You shook your head in disbelief. "Tony, you're not responsible for me. We're friends, that's all."

"I have more rooms available in that tower than I have people living in them. Besides, it would make things a lot easier for me. It's hard to keep an eye on you when you live on the other side of town."

He seemed to completely disagree. "It's what I do. I care about the people I love. Please, just... consider it." He ran his hands over his face again. "This is my way of saying I care about you, Y/n."

You sighed heavily. The idea of no longer needing to pay rent was tempting, but on the other hand, what would you do in that place? You would feel like a fish out of water.

"I don't know, Tony. I'm not your superpowered friends, I have nothing to do there."

He stood up looking around and heading towards the cubicle that was your kitchen, somehow completely ignoring your answer. "Have you had dinner?" He asked rummaging through your fridge and grimacing. "Y/n there's no food in here. It doesn't even look like there's a human being living in this place."

You shrugged. "There's enough."

He opened the freezer, rummaging through the packages of frozen food. "For God's sake, is this what you're feeding on?"

You sighed, slightly irritated by the intrusion. "Tony, fresh food is expensive."

He closed the refrigerator, took out his cell phone and typed quickly. "Well, I guess we'll go for pizza tonight. Do you like Pepperoni?"

You weren't hungry, but you nodded anyway, knowing there was no point in arguing with him. Tony might be the smartest person you knew, but he was as stubborn as a mule.

He sat back down next to you. "If you need money just tell me."

You rolled your lips. The idea of asking Tony for money was always in the back of your head, but since you got your job you stopped accepting his help and didn’t want to give in to the temptation again. "I don't want to overstep the boundaries of our friendship. Besides, that would put me again in an uncomfortable position, Tony..."

"Then come work for me. Okay, sorted. I need someone with your skills..."

You rolled your eyes "Do you need someone to create software for you?"

He smirked, "Okay, you got me. But, we can think of something."

You sighed, the corners of your mouth turning up in a smile. Tony was so sweet, you could see an herculean effort from him to make you feel better and it was definitely the most amazing thing anyone had ever done for you.

"I would like to quit my job. It’s a shit job." You admitted staring at your hands. "… and I hate that place. I hate those people."

"Is there any person in the world that you don't hate?" He teased.

You smirked, "You're not so bad."

He grabbed your hand and pulled you closer to him. You snuggled feeling the pleasant warmth of his body and laid your head on his shoulder.

"In fact, I think you're the only person in the world I don't hate."

He wrapped his arm around your shoulders. "I'll take that as a compliment."

You smiled to yourself. “Yeah, as you should.”

He looked at his cell phone's display for a moment and then informed. "Pizza in 20 minutes." He grabbed the TV remote and turned it on again, this time looking for something to watch. He went through the streaming catalogs – from which he was paying for - and ended up deciding on a random horror movie.

The two of you sat in silence for a few minutes watching the opening scenes of The Nun. The silence, however, was not the uncomfortable kind, the kind that you need to fill with anything because the situation starts to get messy and strange. In fact, there was a certain comfort in being next to Tony, the intimacy that existed between you was something comforting and even cuddling with him on the couch, your head lying lazily on his shoulder, your arms wrapped around his waist, his arm resting affectionately on your shoulders, you felt completely at ease and carefree because you knew it was completely platonic. Tony had Pepper and you had simply given up on having a man in your life. Romantically speaking.

"How are things at home?" You asked, breaking the silence. "With Pepper and Morgan."

"Very good. Pepper has been taking care of the company and so she's been traveling a lot, but we're doing great. Morgan is doing really well in school. I think I've done well in life."

You smiled, genuinely happy for him. "Does she know you're here?"

He nodded, but you pushed a little harder.

"What does she think about me?"

"She knows what I tell her. She doesn't care about our friendship, if that's what you're asking."

You nodded, getting distracted by a particularly scary scene in the movie.

"She agreed to you coming and living with us." He said proudly.

You looked at him in surprise. "Seriously?"

"She also warned me that I should offer you a job if I expected you to accept the offer. Pepper knows people, she deals with them better than I do."

You smirked to yourself. "She's an incredible woman. I don't know what she saw in you." You teased tickling his ribs and eliciting giggles from him. You loved the sound of Tony's laughter. It would do you more good than all the anti-depressant pills you've ever taken in your life.

It took about 30 minutes for your pizza to arrive. Obviously, it was you who greeted the pizza guy at the door. Tony was terrified of any of your neighbors finding out he was coming to your house, not only because it could be fodder for the gossip tabloids, but also because it would ruin your privacy.

You put the pizza box on the coffee table and got two cans of soda from the fridge and threw yourself back on the couch.

Sebastian, who had settled into the small loveseat, was now staring at the two of you jealously.

You were surprised by how much you enjoyed your slice of pizza. It was the first thing you were eating that day, but you were sure that what made everything feel so special was the company. Any food, no matter how tasty it was, seemed tasteless in your mouth when you ate it alone sitting on that couch using TV to pretend a non-existent company.

"I could use an assistant." Tony said finishing his soda and looking at you waiting for an answer.

You took the last bite from your piece and chewed slowly thinking about what to say. Deep down you wanted to say yes, but rationally you wondered if you weren't crossing a line.

"You'll have your own room, which is bigger than this entire apartment. You'll have a good salary, meet new people, and spend more time with me. Something tells me that would do you good."

You smiled "I wouldn't know where to start. I don't know your work, Tony and I've never worked as a secretary."

"Assistant." He corrected.

"What if I screw up? What if I disappoint you?"

Tony touched your face "The only way you can disappoint me is by not trying. I want what's best for you and we both know that's not continuing to live in this place alone."

Immediately you glanced at Sebastian sleeping peacefully in the loveseat. "Can I take him with me? You know I'm not going anywhere without him."

Tony pretended to think about it. "You know he hates me, right?"

"He doesn't hate you. He's just jealous of me." You corrected him.

Tony smirked "You can take him, but he will have to stay in your room the whole time. It's not safe for him to be loose in the tower."

“Is it safe for me? I mean, with your weird friends there?”

Tony nodded “I’ll be there to protect you from them, don’t worry.”

Tony pulled you into his arms and you finished watching the movie like that, feeling safe in his arms and with a sense that somehow everything would be okay.

You sighed finally surrendering.

"Then the answer is yes."

Reblog please! Leave a comment if you liked it. Interact! I will love to read all of your comments and opinions. It inspires me to keep writing ;)

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sourwolf-sterek32 · 30 days

Text

Idiotic Hero

Summary: Nikki Sixx chooses a random fan from the crowd to come on stage and it happens to be you. But what happens when a person with a knife pushes through security and runs straight towards you both?

Pairings: Nikki Sixx x Reader, Mötley Crüe & Reader

Word Count: 3.9k

Warnings- language, blood, serious injury, mentions of past drug & alcohol abuse

Part 1

The World Tour: Mötley Crüe and Def Leppard.

It was actually happening. Eight years since Mötley Crüe's 'final tour' in 2015 and they were back performing live not just in front of crowds on a stage but in front of tens of thousands of fans in stadiums all across the world.

You couldn't stop pinching yourself as you leant against the barricade in the front row of their concert. How you even managed to get such great tickets was a question you still couldn't answer but you were so incredibly happy.

Growing up your father raised you on rock music. Mötley Crüe, Aerosmith, AC/DC, Guns 'N Roses, Bon Jovi, Alice Cooper, the list was basically infinite.

There was no shortage of rock music in your childhood house. Your father was the one who introduced you to Mötley Crüe, but little five-year-old you had no idea how far your obsession and hyper-fixation with this band would go.

From listening to Girls Girls Girls in the back of your father's truck on the way to school to blasting Kickstart My Heart many years later while driving home from your dead-end job. Mötley Crüe was your favourite band. As a child you enjoyed their music, blissfully unaware of the meaning behind some of their songs as you shouted the lyrics from the backseat. But despite liking their music at a young age, you never became a full-on fan or Crüehead until you were older.

Now, you understood the meaning behind their songs and lyrics... some quite questionable (yes, I'm looking at you All In The Name Of...) but they were still great songs that resonated deeply within you. Now you were older you were able to properly appreciate the music. Most of Mötley Crüe's songs were close to your heart. Afraid and Home Sweet Home more so than any others.

Being able to see them live in person was something you were still struggling to comprehend. Even now as you stood in front of the barricade staring at the empty stage in front of you waiting for the concert to start, it was still unimaginable. It felt as if you were dreaming. And you feared that your alarm clock would wake you up any minute. But that annoying ringtone never rang, instead loud emergency buzzing started as the large screens either side of the stage lit up with the words;

'NATIONAL ALERT Primary Entry Point System Issued an Emergency Action Notification'

If you hadn't been so obsessed with this band, you might have been worried reading those words and hearing the emergency alarm. But you had already seen YouTube videos of their World Tour concerts and knew the show was about to get wild. Literally.

The guitar intro for Wild Side started shortly after and you stood there mouth agape in awe as John 5, Mötley's new guitarist, appeared out of nowhere shredding on his guitar.

Many hated John 5 simply because of the fact he was standing where Mick Mars used to be. And yeah, you understood that. Mick Mars is an absolute beast with a guitar, but John 5 was a damn good guitarist too. From playing with Rob Zombie and Marilyn Manson, John 5 had the experience and the skill to continue on Mick's legacy with Mötley Crüe. And he was proving that right before your eyes.

Suddenly drums joined in with the guitar and your head snapped to the left in shock to find Tommy Lee sitting behind his drum kit. You had been so focused on John 5 in his long white coat you didn't even notice Tommy sneaking up on stage and by the screams coming from the mass crowd behind you, nobody else did either.

Then Nikki Sixx and Vince Neil rushed out from the side onto the stage, and you began screaming in pure happiness with the crowd.

This was real.

Mötley Crüe were here. They were right in front of you.

Holy fucking shit.

It was actually happening.

Your internal freak out was cut short when Vince began to scream those first words and suddenly everything else around you faded away as you got sucked into the music.

All your life issues and problems outside of this stadium vanished. All the stress and pressure from work, gone. Nothing else mattered in this moment as you stared at the band, at the four men on stage who meant everything to you.

"How you guys doing tonight?!" Vince shouted through the microphone after finishing Wild Side and Shout At The Devil. Hewalked up to the front of the stage staring out at the crowd who all cheered and screamed in response. "Now tell me, who likes to listen to the old shit?"

The crowd went ballistic and you right along with them as you screamed up at Vince who was smirking at the fans. Vince Neil was a showman. He loved performing and putting on a show for everyone. This was what he was born to do and even now at 62 years of age, he was still rocking it.

"How about something from the first album?" He asked and the crowd cheered so loudly it hurt your ears and Vince grinned turning back to his bandmates. "Let's do it!"

John 5 suddenly unleashed on his guitar, Tommy joining in with his drums and you grinned ear to ear recognising Too Fast For Love instantly.

Don't Go Away Mad Live Wire Looks That Kill The Dirt

Song after song and you were in pure bliss listening to them play while screaming along with Vince to the words. And when Tommy sat down behind the piano that got wheeled onto stage, tears were burning in your eyes before the song even started.

Home Sweet Home.

This song meant so much to you. After moving out of home young for your career and living over eight hours away from your friends and family this song hit you harder than any other.

You knew there was a chance you'd tear up during this song, but after the first few words "you know I'm a dreamer" you were done for. Silent tears trickled down your face as you sung the words that meant so much to you.

Nikki walked around the back of the piano patting Tommy's shoulder before he stood at the edge of stage right in front of you. His eyes scanned over the crowd in amazement. Even after 40+ years of touring you could tell that Nikki never took this for granted as he stared out at his fans in genuine happiness.

"But my heart's of gold I had to run away high So I wouldn't come home low"

Nikki placed his hand over his inner elbow while Vince sang which only made you cry harder knowing all about his battle with heroin that had killed him back in 1987. You briefly thought back to his book The Heroin Diaries and all the pain and suffering inside those pages. Nikki had been through so much shit yet overcame his drug and alcohol addictions and was now living his best life. 22 years sober. You were so incredibly proud of him.

Suddenly, as if Nikki could somehow sense your thoughts his head turned, and his beautiful smoky eyes locked with yours.

"Take me to your heart." You sang in tune with Vince as Nikki placed his hand over his heart while maintaining eye contact.

You continued to sing the lyrics. Nikkis smile widening with each word. Tears were still trickling down your face, but you didn't wipe them away as you sang, and he eventually turned his attention away leaving you standing there feeling breathless.

Now that your eyes weren't locked with the bassist you took a moment to turn and look at the crowd yourself. Lights from phones illuminated the entire stadium. You stood there with wide eyes watching all the lights going round and round in tune with the beat while Vince sung his heart out.

After Home Sweet Home they got into Smokin' In The Boys Room. It was amazing.

As they continued through the songs, you occasionally caught Nikki looking at you. Sometimes briefly, just one flash of his beautiful smoky eyes before he was looking away again. But sometimes he'd hold your gaze for a few moments while he strummed away on his bass, and you sang the words to each and every song with so much passion and enthusiasm.

Nikki probably thought you were crazy. You knew every word to every song and hell, you were even sporting his signature black war stripes on your cheeks that matched his own identically.

"I wanna introduce you to somebody who's up here." Vince suddenly said through the microphone. "He's my brother. He's a badass. And he's a bass player. Give it up for Mr. Nikki Sixx!" Vince shouted pointing at the bassist in question who began walking to the front of the stage his bass no longer strapped around his shoulder.

Nikki and Vince fist bumped as they walked past each other. The singer disappeared off stage for a drink break with the rest of the band leaving Nikki alone on stage as he walked up to the microphone pole.

"Well, how the fuck are you guys doing?" Nikki called out speaking for the first time. "Anyone wanna come up here on stage with me?"

Your heart thundered in your chest like a drum as Nikki's eyes scanned the crowd before locking with yours. Then your heart quite literally stopped and all you could do was stare right back at him as he pointed at you and curled his finger up in a come here motion.

"Get that beautiful girl up here." Nikki ordered his gaze holding yours for a moment before he turned back to the rest of the crowd and continued to talk about the tour.

If someone held a gun to your head and told you to repeat what Nikki was now talking about. You'd be dead because you were not listening to a word the bassist was saying anymore as blood rushed in your ears. All you could focus on was the security guard walking over to you as you shakily began climbing over the barricade.

The guard helped you over safely before guiding you around to the side of stage and pointed at the stairs without a word.

Wait, were you meant to just walk up the stairs onto the stage? Did Nikki want you up there now? Oh, God you were panicking and overthinking this.

"I saw you singing every word to every song. Come up here." Nikki's voice cut through your internal panic as he appeared at the top of the stairs and held his hand out towards you.

Sucking in a deep breath trying to calm your nerves, you took Nikki's hand and climbed onto stage. And holy fuck there were a lot of people in that crowd. It was a never-ending sea of fans packed into the stadium and all of them were staring at you and Nikki.

"It's okay. Don't be nervous, sweetheart." Nikki whispered lowering the microphone so nobody else could hear him. "What's your name?"

"Y/N."

He smiled, "pretty name. It suits you."

You couldn't stop the small smile from spreading across your face at his compliment as you ducked your head feeling your cheeks blushing.

"It's fans like you guys that make all this possible." Nikki began to say into the microphone before he wrapped his arm around your shoulders and pulled you into his side. "And if you'll have us, we will be back soon I promise you that!"

The crowd erupted in applause and screams causing you to flinch not expecting it. Nikki's arm tightened around you ever so slightly noticing your reaction. He continued to talk to the crowd while holding you against his side. You allowed yourself to relax in his hold and leant into his touch getting memorised by his musky cologne.

It was hard to believe Nikki Sixx was 64. He still ran around on stage with his bass like he did back in the 80s. Well, maybe not as much. Nikki did used to drink Jack Daniels straight from the bottle and roll around on stage back in the day. His beard and hair were obviously dyed now, but he looked damn good for his age. The thick muscular arm holding onto you was enough proof to say that Nikki Sixx aged like fine wine. He was only getting better and better as the years passed.

"I have a very important question for you." Nikki began to say, and you tilted your head up surprised to find him looking right back at you.

Oh, he wasn't talking to the crowd anymore. He was talking straight to you.

His face was so close to yours you could smell a hint of mint on his breath. It was strangely refreshing.

You bit your lip nervously and nodded staring into his beautiful sea green eyes awaiting his question anxiously.

"What song would you like us to play next? It's your choice."

Oh my God.

The crowd all started shouting song names that you couldn't quite decipher as you held Nikki's gaze. He was smirking like he could see you suddenly panicking because despite the fact that you knew every single one of their songs from all the albums, you were coming up blank.

Nothing.

Not one song title was coming to mind.

"Give us a song we haven't played in years!" A familiar voice called out causing the crowd to cheer.

You glanced over your shoulder to find Tommy Lee strolling back onto stage with his drum sticks in his hands. God, he had aged like fine wine too.

Then Vince Neil and John 5 began to make their way back on the stage. Hell, all of Mötley Crüe had aged like fine wine, who were you kidding? John 5 was younger than the others but still looked fantastic in his 50s. Vince always copped so much hate on social media due to his weight gain, but fuck those haters because Vince Neil looked damn good for his age. And he had lost a significant amount of weight since their last tour back in 2015.

Mötley Crüe's good looks were not helping your sudden internal freak out though as you turned your head back to Nikki who was smiling at you like he knew what was running through your head.

"Afraid from Generation Swine or Knock 'Em Dead Kid from Too Fast For Love. You can pick which one you like better." You hurriedly answered the second your brain decided to actually function.

You were honoured to be able to choose the next song, but was worried that you'd pick a song the guys wouldn't like or a song that you couldn't remember very well. At least this way the four of them could decide which one they wanted to play themselves.

Nikki grinned, "I knew I picked you for a reason. You're clearly a fan. I like you."

Hearing those words coming from Nikki Sixx himself was something you didn't know you needed to hear. Your heart fluttered as you smiled at him but didn't dare trust yourself to speak fearing you'd either stutter your words and make a fool of yourself or just start bawling your eyes out from happiness.

"Fuck yeah! You have no idea how many people just pick the popular songs. It's boring." Vince's voice piped up through his own microphone.

"Why don't we play both?" John suggested.

Nikki glanced back down at you and opened his mouth to speak but then the crowd suddenly started shouting snapping his attention away from you abruptly.

The shouting from the crowd didn't sound right though. And by the way Nikki's body had turned tense on alert beside you, you knew something was wrong.

The fans in the crowd closest to the stage were all yelling and pointing at something behind you. Nikki quickly turned, his arm slipping from your shoulder as you spun around and that's when you saw the stranger running on stage.

Vince and John quickly backed away while security swarmed the area frantically trying to climb up onto the stage to stop the unknown man. Nikki raised his arm in front of your body almost protectively as the man turned towards you both with a crazed look in his eye.

Suddenly, he bolted straight towards you. But he wasn't looking at you. His wide eyes were zeroed in on one thing and one thing only, Nikki Sixx.

Security were hot on his tail. But the man was fast. Too fast. Then, he reached into his jacket pocket, and you saw a flash of a silver blade.

In a split second you realised two things; one, security weren't going to stop this crazy man in time and two, he had a knife and he was heading straight for Nikki.

Without thinking you pushed the bassist to the side not expecting your own sudden strength as Nikki fell off the side of the stage. But you didn't have time to worry if he was okay or not because the next thing you knew the crazy man crashed straight into you instead of his intended target.

You stumbled back a few steps at the impact but managed to keep your feet before shoving him off you. That was all the time security needed before they grabbed the crazy man who instantly started thrashing like a wild animal in their grip.

The crowd around you had turned eerily silent as they watched security struggling to contain the intruder. More guards jumped onto the stage to assist and eventually the group of them managed to get the man under control and began escorting him off stage.

Your heartbeat was skyrocketing. Body shaking with adrenaline as you breathed heavily watching the man still trying to fight the guards.

Wait, Nikki.

As if on cue, the bassist appeared out of nowhere after lifting himself up the side of the stage with a grunt before limping over to you. Guilt instantly washed over you because he was favouring his right foot and it clearly hurt.

"I'm so sorry. Are you okay?" You hurriedly questioned rushing over to him on instinct as you looked down at his boot worriedly.

"Am I okay? Are you?" He questioned in shock his eyes raking over your body looking for any signs of injury.

But then his face drained of all colour and his eyes paused over your midsection and widen into saucers.

You frowned and followed his line of sight and had to do a double take when you saw the knife sticking out your lower abdomen.

The man stabbed you.

How the hell did you not notice that?

Suddenly, it was as if a switch had been flipped and the adrenaline soaring through your veins began to subside and that's when the pain started. White hot pain radiated through your body like a fire burning from within.

"Oh fuck." Nikki swore under his breath.

Without thinking, you reached down with shaky fingers and grabbed the handle of the knife.

"Wait, don't-"

You yanked the blade out before Nikki could finish that sentence.

It hurt. You needed to get it out. But that did nothing to stop the pain though. If anything, it hurt more causing you to cry out as the blade slipped from your now bloodied fingers and fell to the floor of the stage.

Blood began to pour from the open wound like a dam bursting. Oh, that was a bad idea. That was a really bad idea.

You quickly covered the wound with your hand knowing you needed to keep pressure on it to slow the bleeding, but warm red liquid was already oozing out from between your fingers, staining your shirt and dripping down your pants.

The crowd was silent as the thousands of fans watched on in pure shock. Mötley Crüe concerts were never quiet. Even between songs the crowd were up and around cheering and screaming, but not tonight. Nobody moved. Nobody dared to speak as they all stared at you in the middle of the stage.

Everything around you started to turn blurry as you took a staggering step back. Your legs buckling from underneath you but before you hit the ground, Nikki's strong hands were on you. Gently he eased your body down onto the floor moving slowly not wanting to hurt you further as he laid you down.

Suddenly his hands were removing yours from the wound so he could take in the damage but clearly didn't like what he saw as he cursed under his breath. His hands quickly pressed down against the stab wound on your stomach causing you to whimper at the pain it caused.

"I know. I know. I'm sorry. I need to keep pressure on it. I'm sorry." Nikki apologised, his sea green eyes filled with so much panic as he looked over his shoulder. "We need a medic!"

"We need a medic on stage!" Vince's voice repeated through a microphone loudly.

Nikki frantically pulled out the bandana from his back pocket and bundled it up before pressing the material against the wound. But the once blue and white fabric soon turned a dark crimson.

"Shit. Shit. Where's the medic?!" Nikki shouted desperately.

Vince suddenly appeared over his shoulder unsure what was going on but when he saw all the blood his face paled. The singer frantically ripped off his scarf and knelt beside Nikki pressing it down against the blood-soaked bandana causing you to wince at the pain.

"Fuck. What happened? Did he stab her?" Vince questioned taking in all the blood.

"He wanted to stab me. But she stopped him." Nikki muttered angrily through gritted teeth. "Where's the fucking medic?"

You glanced to the side just in time to see John 5 dropping his guitar and running off stage to find a medic as Tommy sprinted over but froze when he realised what was happening.

"I'm sorry." You said, your voice barely above a whisper.

"Shh. It's okay, save your energy. You're gonna be fine, okay? You're gonna be fine." Nikki reassured, but you weren't sure if he was trying to reassure you or himself.

"Get that fucking camera out of here!" Tommy's voice boomed in the background somewhere, but everything was starting to spin as your eyes fluttered shut.

"Hey. No, no, no, wake up. Y/N, sweetheart, open your eyes." Nikkis voice begged before a hand suddenly cupped the side of your face and you forced your eyes open to find Nikki's panicked green one's looking straight at you. "Stay awake, you hear me? Stay awake."

"Sixx, it's not stopping." Vince warned grimacing at the now blood-soaked scarf he was still using as a makeshift bandage over the wound.

"Damnit." Nikki hissed, pushing his hand down harder in attempt to stem the blood flow causing you to groan in agony. "Sorry. Sorry. I know it hurts. I'm sorry."

"Just hold on a little longer, kid." Vince instructed while frantically looking around for the medic.

"There-there are worst ways to die." You winced, your tired eyes flicking between Nikki and Vince before Tommy dropped to his knees on your other side. His shaking hands hovered over your stomach not sure what to do to help as he stared at you helplessly terrified. "Dying with... with Mötley Crüe by my side ain't a bad way to-to go out."

"No." Nikki shook his head. "You're not dying. Not on my watch."

"It's okay." You whispered, his bloodied hand still cupping your face.

"It's not okay. Nothing about this is okay. Fuck! You shouldn't have pushed me out the way-"

"It doesn't hurt anymore. It's okay." Your voice was becoming weaker as you struggled to keep your eyes open.

"Shit." Vince swore knowing that was bad.

The guys all looked around at each other their fearful panicked expressions matching. They didn't know what else to do and you were fading fast.

"Over here!" John 5 shouted sprinting back onto the stage with two paramedics hot on his tail. "She was stabbed and- fuck, that's a lot of blood."

The last thing you saw was Tommy and Vince trying to pull Nikki away from you as paramedics rushed over before everything faded into darkness.

Next Chapter

MASTERLIST pinned to profile If anyone wants to be tagged just let me know

A/N: I am writing this purely for myself and if anyone else happens to read and like it, then that's a bonus. The first part of this fic was based on my own personal experience during their concert last year but obviously everything after going on stage is completely made up.

If I was the girl he asked to go on stage I would either just start crying or pass out... maybe both.

#nikki sixx #motley crue #motley crue x reader #motley crue fanfiction #tommy lee #vince neil #john 5 #nikki sixx x reader #nikki sixx fanfiction #tommy lee x reader #tommy lee fanfic #pov #imagine #fanfic #80s rock #80s music #glam rock

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celtic-crossbow · 9 months

Text

Don’t Chase the Dead

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

Setting: Commonwealth Era post 11x24

Warnings: Typical TWD violence, descriptions of injuries

Summary: You and Daryl find yourselves in a battle for survival after the archer leads you into danger in a attempt to absolve him of his guilt.

Prompt: "Being in love is not a weakness, you know"

A/N: You can find the request from @alldevilsarehere90 here. Finally finished this beast! It really got away from me and I ended up moving all sorts of things around before I was even remotely happy with it. I’m sorry it took so long!

PSA: I think I should let it be known that (if you haven’t noticed) I really like to beat up on our boy. There’s just something about an injured Daryl that I love. Probably won’t veer from that anytime soon.

They were all dead. Every last one of the men that had murdered a young boy from the Commonwealth. Only you and Daryl were left standing.

Metaphorically speaking.

You stared at an arrow from the enemy’s quiver, inspecting it before letting it fall to the ground.

“Ya know—whatcha gotta—do, Y/N.”

You were already shaking your head before the first word had left Daryl’s bloody lips. The arrowhead in his left thigh was barbed. If you tried to pull it out, it would mercilessly tear through muscle and flesh, doing much more damage and leaving a wound that would bleed freely while requiring more than stitches. The one pull Daryl had given it was enough to put him on his ass. He was right, and that made you feel nauseous.

“I don’t know if I can.” Your bottom lip quivered. Tears fell unchecked. Your own upper arm ached but the bullet had only managed a decent graze. “What if it hit an artery? What if I make it hit an artery?”

Daryl’s eyes scanned the area around you, always on guard. The man who had shot him had been dealt with quickly, the last of the enemies to have fallen by a bullet you fired. The shots would attract walkers.

“Do you think you can walk if you lean on me?” You asked. Your voice raised slightly with a hint of hope. “We can get you back to the Commonwealth, to the hospital.”

“Y/N.” The archer was calm, tired. He laid his head back against the wall, looking down his nose at you. “Y’know I—l can’t.”

You cursed under your breath, staring at the protruding wooden shaft. Once again, he was right. Even if you bound the wound to the best of your ability, the likelihood of it shifting and tearing inside was tremendous. “Okay. We have to be fast. We can’t stay here much longer.” You undid your belt and looked around you for a safe place for when things inevitably went south. Pessimism or just simply acknowledging Dixon luck, it didn’t matter. There was a maintenance shed, door open. The probability of walkers inside was slim but not none. It’d do in a pinch though.

Your flannel shirt would be used as a bandage after, so you peeled it off and tore off the sleeves, biting and pulling at the rest of it to form it into strips. “Can you turn onto your right side just a little?” You asked while wrapping a piece of the fabric around your arm. You used your teeth to aid in tying it off.

Daryl nodded tiredly and angled himself onto his right hip. He could probably do this himself, honestly, but you were there and had a better view of the injury. Your biggest worry was the wood splintering or snapping, leaving the arrowhead inside.

Using your knife, you cut the fabric around the point of entry as carefully as possible. It’s still oozing blood but nothing like it will be once the weapon is removed. Chewing on your lip, you go back to cutting, this time at the back of his thigh. Worry is gnawing at you relentlessly, your insides twisting.

“I could break the shaft, make it easier for you to move. I think we could make it—”

“Gotta break—gotta break it anyway.” To emphasize his point, he leaned forward and wrapped a trembling hand around where the weapon entered his flesh. With what looked like the tiniest bit of effort and a pained grunt, he snapped the arrow and tossed the end somewhere in the darkness. His back thudded against the wall. “Just do it—or I’ll do it an’ ya can—head on back. I‘ll catch up.”

“I’m not leaving you! No way!” You snap. Daryl wasn’t thinking clearly. That much was obvious. Either from blood loss, exhaustion, or the guilt eating him up at the loss of that boy. Maybe all of the above. He hadn’t slept since he’d had to put down the reanimated corpse. He was supposed to be with the kid. He had promised to show him how to track and hunt. The archer had been called away to help elsewhere and the kid had angrily left the safety of the community. No one blamed Daryl except Daryl.

Still, no one could ever make Daryl feel worse than he could himself, and you could do nothing without his compliance.

“Fine.” You leaned toward him and held out your belt. “Bite down on this.” When he raised an eyebrow behind his curtain of hair, you sighed. “It’s gonna hurt, Daryl. There are probably already walkers and god knows what else headed for us. I’d rather not let them know exactly where we are.” His lip curled in distaste but opened his mouth and let you place the strap between his teeth. That man could be so stupidly stubborn sometimes.

Your hand hovered over the arrow’s broken shaft. You knew there was no time to waste. You started counting down from three, more for yourself than him, and wrapped your hand around the arrow. Judging by how he remained silent, he knew that. When you hit one, you tightened your grip and pushed. Daryl went rigid, agonized sounds rushing out around the belt held so tightly between his teeth.

You honestly hadn’t expected so much resistance, quick to conclude you must have been grazing the bone. “I know, I know,” you tried to soothe as you adjusted the angle. Daryl arched off the wall with a muffled shout. The arrow began to move again, soon breaking through the skin on the other side. You released a breath you didn’t even realize you were holding as the archer went boneless, the belt falling from his mouth so he could breathe through the pain with heavy pants. “The worst is over.” Flesh dangled from the barbs but it exited rather cleanly, and you were able to grab beneath the tip and pull it free. “Done. It’s out.”

You’d have to stop and stitch him up once you were both a safe distance away. A piece of flannel was folded into a square and pressed over the back of his leg, quickly soaking through. With a muttered “shit,” you replaced it with another and one more on top of that one before managing to tie what used to be a sleeve around it. Just as you pulled it tight, you heard a branch snap and an all too familiar (yet no less terrifying) snarl. You had to bandage the top wound quickly and get the both of you out. “Hold this here.” You instructed when you pressed a square to the top of his thigh. Daryl didn’t move. “Daryl?” Maintaining pressure, you leaned forward to see his face. He had passed out. “Fuck!”

Another growl. More shuffling steps.

You hurried through wrapping the second one and shouldered your pack, leaning forward to urgently tap the archer’s cheek. “Daryl, wake up. Daryl!” He stirred but didn’t open his eyes. “We have to go. Now!” You stood when he still didn’t respond, wiping your bloody hands on your jeans. Looked like you’d be needing that maintenance shed after all.

You could see them now, the group of undead bodies making their way toward you, their silhouettes barely visible in the moonlight. You gave a frustrated huff and moved up toward the wall, struggling to heave your archer into a sitting position so you could hook your hands under his arms. Daryl was a stout man, all lean muscle under his layers. Dragging him would not be an easy feat.

“Anytime you wanna wake up and help, that’d be great!” You pulled and pulled, finally managing a few feet before the first walker was just too close. You had no options other than your gun. The shot was fired and the gun holstered just as quickly then you were back to dragging your partner. “If we make it through this, I’m going to kill you!” As if hearing your threat, Daryl groaned. You didn’t stop. Couldn’t stop. Too many undead were lumbering toward you. “Are you with me?”

“Y/N?” The archer questioned groggily.

“None other!” You grunted. His good leg kicked out to dislodge a walker from his boot, nearly throwing you off balance. “Welcome back to the land of the…somewhat living.” Some of his weight shifted away as he got his good leg up under him, using your hold under his arms to lever himself upright. “We’ve got to get to the shed. You’re still bleeding and—”

It all seemed to happen in slow motion. You were pulled back and Daryl went down, unable to take his own weight so suddenly on the injured limb. Two walkers had grabbed hold of your pack, the only thing standing between you and grizzly death. And now there was nothing standing between Daryl and the same fate. You watched helplessly as you struggled against the rotted hands trying to get to your flesh. He had pulled his knife, making it upright to stab one skull before he’d tumble down, catch his breath, and do it again.

“Y/N!”

With fierce determination, you pulled your own blade from the sheath on your thigh and slid your arms from the straps holding the bag to your back. One walker stumbled with the pack while the other grabbed your arm. You only let it get close enough to drive the knife into its temple. “Daryl!” Three walkers were closing in on him fast.

“Y/N, get outta here!”

He couldn’t have possibly thought that was going to work. The corpse on your pack grabbed for your ankle but you kicked free and sprinted to Daryl, rounding in front of him to push one threat back and quickly stab it. You turned just in time for a walker’s teeth to close roughly with an audible click about two inches from your face. The shock lasted a mere heartbeat. You stabbed it in the eye and Daryl released his hold on the back of its tattered shirt. The archer tumbled forward gracelessly and you managed to catch him under one arm to keep him standing.

“I told ya to run!” He snapped.

“The shed! Let’s move!” You ignored him and pulled him along with you. He was barely keeping up, stumbling to keep as much weight off the injured leg as he could manage.

Walkers were coming from every side. You weren’t sure you’d make it before they reached you. “Shit! Shit! Shit!” Two were almost in front of the door. If they cut you off now, even a flawless dispatching would cost your window of opportunity to secure relative safety.

The arm around Daryl’s waist tightened and you pulled him harder, nearly causing him to lose what little balance he was trying so hard to maintain.

“Y/N.” He growled in a low, warning tone.

You discarded the knife and pulled your gun to put a bullet in the forehead of the walker closest to the door. It was a close call but you managed to get you both to the entrance. There was no time for tenderness. You used your momentum to twist your body and practically throw the bowman into the darkness, hearing him crash into something inside that obviously tumbled down when he made contact. You continued the motion, spinning to back into the shed while pulling the door closed. You screamed in frustration when a rotted arm came through the last remaining space and prevented the latch from securing.

You couldn’t take either hand away from the door, your weight being the only thing keeping the creature out. Within moments, more would join it and you would be overpowered. You released an angry howl and grabbed the handle, opening the door outward only to slam it closed on the decomposing limb. Once, twice. It took stepping forward into danger and throwing yourself nearly off your feet to snap off the arm and allow the door to close.

There was no lock. You couldn’t see your hand right in front of your face. You couldn’t barricade the door when you couldn’t make out what objects were around you. It would have to wait. Regardless, you flinched when the sound of bodies hitting the outside of the shed rang through the small space. Switching gears in an instant, you replaced one fear with another. Daryl hadn’t made a sound since you had sent him sailing gracelessly into the unknown.

“Daryl?” You kept your voice at a whisper. Agitating the walkers that had already pegged you as their next meal wouldn’t be smart. You walked with small steps, unable to see where you were going. You didn’t want to fall over something, especially if that something was your partner. There was no sound aside from your quiet footfalls. Frankly, it was unnerving.

You had felt fear morphing into panic just as a hand wrapped around your ankle. Your first instinct was to kick out but you managed to hear the click of a zippo lighter opening followed by the familiar flicking that would ignite the flame. Daryl was slumped against a utility shelf, surrounded by a mess of jugs, tools, and empty storage bins.

He looked tired. Sweaty and pale, but mostly just exhausted. You knelt beside him and took the lighter from his hand, sitting it close by on the concrete floor. “You alright?” You asked softly. His skin was clammy beneath your fingers when you stroked his cheek and brushed his hair away from his eyes. Rolling his head toward you, his expression screamed ‘did you really just ask me that?’ and you couldn’t help but wince. “Yeah, sorry about that.” He stared at you for a moment, almost as if he was deciding whether or not you were sincere. One corner of his mouth twitched upward so slightly that you would have missed it had you not been staring at him so intently. He finally grunted with a nod and let his head rest against a lower shelf, closing his eyes.

Satisfied that your impromptu toss hadn’t caused him any further injuries, you slid the lighter a bit closer so you could take a look at his leg. It wasn’t good. The fabric was soaked through, dark droplets collecting steadily into a small puddle below his leg. Worry gnawed at your gut but you pushed it down in favor of taking action. “I’m gonna get you stitched up and we’ll figure out what to do from here.” He gave you a thumbs up, not bothering to open his eyes.

You scooped up the lighter and turned to reach for your pack. Only—it wasn’t there. Where had you placed it? When you replayed the past fifteen minutes, you felt your stomach sink.

You had left it behind. Beneath a walker.

“Fuck.” You breathed the word out shakily, frozen to your spot on the floor.

“What?” Daryl rasped from behind you.

You still wore a frozen expression of horrifying realization when you twisted back to look at him. He raised his head, brow drawn inward, and repeated himself.

“My pack. I left it out there—when I ran over to help you.”

To your shock, he simply shrugged. “Don’t matter.”

You gaped at him. “What do you mean it doesn’t matter?! Daryl, you’re bleeding!”

Another shrug. “Ain’t the first time, won’t be the last.”

“Daryl. Seriously.” You leveled him with a glare, but he waved you off and began pulling himself up with the aid of the shelves. “What’re you doing? Sit down!” You were really struggling with keeping quiet. The man had a stubborn streak a mile wide.

“Can it, woman. M’fine.” He stumbled away from the safety of the shelf and grabbed onto the edge of a small table with a grunt, lips pressed into a thin line.

You noticed, of course, and folded your arms over your chest. “That hurt, huh?” You deadpanned. He tossed a glare your way and, with a sigh, you approached and held up the lighter to start looking around the shed with him. There wasn’t much beyond some handheld tools, random hoses, containers, nuts, and bolts. There were no windows, no other way to escape.

Fortunately, Carol knew you two had left and where you were going. She had asked to come along but you had shot her down. If only you had known the numbers you and Daryl would face on your own, not to mention the aftermath. Regardless, Carol would come looking. Eventually.

You both just had to survive until then.

The likelihood of that was looking bleaker by the moment. Your provisions and medical supplies were outside, amidst about two dozen walkers. Not to mention, Daryl was steadily losing blood, leaving a small trail as he finished scouting the space for anything useful. You began to wonder if you had managed to nick the artery after all.

“Okay, okay. We just need to think. We’ve made it out of worse situations.” You stood facing him, trying not to think about how fast he was breathing or how the pallor to his skin resembled the undead just outside the door.

“Ya shoulda run. Told ya to run.” Daryl stated quietly, not looking at you. “Ya know damn well—”

“You know damn well I’d never leave you behind! Not now, not ever!”

“Y/N.” His eyes were shimmering with moisture and you could clearly see the flame reflected there. You gave him a small but genuine smile. You would absolutely give your life for Daryl. You knew he would do the same for you. He almost had more than once. Your eyes followed his hand, calloused fingertips whispering down your jaw. You leaned into his touch and closed your eyes. If you did die tonight, at least you’d be with the man you loved.

You opened your eyes when his hand fell away, ready to keep showering him with affection. Your smile faltered. He was staring at you, face taut with fear. “Daryl?” Just as you took another step closer, his eyes rolled back and he dropped. You abandoned the lighter in favor of catching him, arms hooking beneath his. You couldn’t hold his sudden weight but you managed to slow his descent. “Daryl? Daryl?!” You ended on your hip with his upper body against your torso and his head tucked under your chin. It was a struggle but you managed to turn and sit against the shelf. He was still pressed tightly against you, and you had no intention of letting go. Your tears flowed freely now, one hand moving constantly: stroking his hair, touching his face, checking his pulse, fisting his vest.

You flinched violently when the door rattled and you heard shards of debris rain onto the concrete. They would flood into the shed any minute. You pulled Daryl’s second knife from its sheath on his belt. Your gun had been lost in your battle to seal the door.

Cradling him even tighter, you pressed your face into his temple and sobbed. “I love you. No matter what happens, you have to know that.”

Moments passed, the pounding on the door became more pronounced as the lighter’s flame began to diminish. You could see moonlight and shadows through the areas of the door that had given way under the assault. You could only watch as the door began to buckle. When it seemed as if they would finally break through, you pressed a kiss to Daryl’s forehead and maneuvered from underneath his body, gently lowering him to the floor.

You were beyond exhausted. Your own injuries were singing with pain. Still, you would put down as many of the fuckers as humanly possible, ready to die before you’d let a single rotten finger touch him. Knife poised to attack, you shifted from foot to foot, readying yourself. The flame went out.

“HEY!”

You froze at the very human, very alive shout from outside, your tear-filled eyes wide and unblinking. The pounding on the door lessened before stopping completely.

“TAKE COVER IN THERE!”

You didn’t hesitate to drop the knife and throw yourself over Daryl just as an explosion sounded from just outside. The small shed trembled fiercely for a matter of seconds before everything went still and quiet. Breathing heavily, you raised your head. The door was hanging by one hinge, ready to collapse. Smoke and dust was filtering in and blocked any view of the scene outside.

A silhouette began to take shape as it approached. Daryl’s knife was back in your hand within a heartbeat and you crouched in front of the still unconscious man, ready to defend him. Your eyes narrowed.

“Y/N?”

The knife clattered to the ground. “Carol?” Your voice broke on the second syllable, hope seeping into your chest and making you dizzy.

The silver-haired woman stepped through the doorway, a large gun in hand. She released the barrel and let the strap take the weight so she could pull a flashlight from her belt. More shadows were scurrying about through the smoke behind her. You shielded your eyes as the light found you, falling back onto your ass with a broken laugh of pure relief.

“He okay? What happened?”

Carol crossed the distance and sat the gun aside, placing a cool hand on your cheek while she looked you over critically.

“We’ve had a shitty day.”

Your thumb was tracing circles over the back of Daryl’s hand, your eyes following the movements. It had been roughly 13 hours since the grenade had rattled the small shed and Carol had been your savior, along with some volunteers she had rallied up. They had brought medical supplies but you chose to use what you had in your pack. Daryl was going to be thrilled.

He had remained unconscious while you stitched his leg and while the volunteers helped get him onto a horse. You didn’t feel safe riding with him draped across the animal’s back and chose to ride behind him on the saddle. He was leaning heavily against you, head lolling side to side on your shoulder, and your back ached by the time you and Carol had arrived home to the Commonwealth. He had been restless in his state, saying your name several times in a voice laced with pain and confusion. Each time, you had answered and the arm you had wrapped around his middle had gently tightened. He never responded.

The men who had traveled back with you carried Daryl into the hospital and he was whisked away on a stretcher. You didn’t like the idea of not going with him but the nurse had insisted that you needed care as well. You sat quietly while your arm was stitched, mind wandering to what would have happened had Carol not shown up when she did. You shook the thoughts from your mind before a devastating conclusion could form images behind your eyes.

Carol had stayed for a while before offering promises of bringing some food by later and then heading to her home to sleep, leaving you alone with Daryl. The silence was daunting.

Glancing up, you watched the drops of antibiotics and fluids drip from the bags hanging on the pole. Tomi had promised Daryl would make a full recovery but insisted he stay for at least two days to ensure there was no infection. You did not want to be the one to break that news to him.

You narrowed your eyes when you were almost certain you could hear the small droplets hit the collection in the mechanism that fed the medication into Daryl’s IV. God, you were tired. You wanted, in the worst way, to crawl onto the bed with him and sleep for days. Yet, you remained in your chair at his bedside, slouching down to lay your head next to his hand that you were still holding.

You had no more than closed your eyes when Daryl began to come around with a quiet moan. Standing so quickly caused the room to spin but you didn’t care. The archer’s eyes were closed tightly, brow creased. Tomi would need to give him something for the pain, probably. He’d have to be quick and sneaky, otherwise Daryl would refuse it. He always refused anything that could be used by someone else to better their lives for even a moment, at the expense of his wellbeing. Luckily, you and Carol were around to make sure he somehow managed to stay healthy. He didn’t make it easy for you. The previous night had been proof of that.

After just a few moments, he relaxed a little and his eyes began to flutter open. You leaned in further so you would be one of the first things he saw and gave his hand a squeeze. His tired gaze settled on your face and his fingers briefly tightened around your hand.

“Welcome back, Dixon.” You smiled while your free hand began to smooth back his hair, soft and gentle sweeps of your palm that you thought for a moment might coax him back to sleep.

“Hi.” He croaked, expression pinching up in discomfort. A cup of water was at his lips a moment later. Given the position of the bed, he didn’t need to raise his head far to accept a few swallows, but you put your hand behind his neck to support him anyway. When he turned his head away slightly, you placed the cup on the bedside table. Daryl cleared his throat and tried again. “Ya alrigh’?”

You laughed at the ridiculous question. Of course he had nearly bled to death and was worried about you when he woke up. “I’m fine. I’m not the one laid up in the hospital.” It was a joke and he knew it, if the feeble scoff he gave was any indication.

“How’d we get back?” He still sounded so, so tired but you’d take tired and awake over sitting by his deathly still form any day.

“Carol.” You didn’t have to say anything else. The man nodded gingerly and closed his eyes. You stayed quiet for several minutes, back to petting his hair. While he was relaxed under your ministrations, he was not sleeping. “Daryl, we need to talk about what happened.” He didn’t open his eyes right away but released a deep sigh. “We should have waited to go after those guys when a group had been designated. Instead, I was chasing you, running off all half-cocked.” You waited and finally his eyes opened. He didn’t look at you, and you knew then that, while he felt bad about it, he was aware you were right. He stared at a point between the wall and the ceiling, stubbornly refusing to engage in the conversation. It was your turn to sigh. “Daryl, why didn’t you wait?” You pressed. The answer was one you knew already, but you needed him to be willing to talk about it.

“Kid was s’posed ta be with me, Y/N.” He finally said. “Them parents ain’t got their kid no more cause I didn’t protect him.” There was a sadness in his eyes that broke your heart. It was still a wonder to you how that brash, rude redneck you met at the quarry all those years ago transformed into the man in front of you. Still sometimes rude, but with the biggest heart of any man you’d ever known. He had opened himself up and allowed himself to love and to be loved, though it didn’t come without cost. Allowing himself to feel so deeply also made him a slave to more negative feelings. He held onto those tightly and let them punish him, beat him down.

You leaned over him to press a kiss to his forehead, the action drawing his gaze to yours. “Listen to me, Daryl Dixon.” Your hand gently pressed on the side of his face. “That guilt isn’t yours to carry.” When he opened his mouth, your hand moved to press a finger to his lips. You shook your head. “It’s not. There’s no one to blame here except the kid and those men. He chose to leave the community that day and that was a mistake he was old enough to know better than to make, but it was those men that made the choice to end his life. That’s not on you. Do you hear me?”

He was mulling it all over, looking away from you. You weren’t naive enough to think that this conversation could change the way he processed emotions, but perhaps over time, with enough love and reminders, he would stop shouldering so much shit alone.

“Ya still should’a run when I told ya. That’s gonna getcha killed one day.”

“Why do you do that?” You twisted to sit on the edge of the bed, next to his hip.

“Do what?” Daryl grimaced, probably from pain, but his expression smoothed out quickly.

“Act like you shouldn’t be important to me. Like I shouldn’t make you a priority.” You waited for him to look at you. You wanted him to see your sincerity. “Being in love is not a weakness, you know. You’re everything to me, Daryl. You make me want to fight, to survive. If it takes me dying to keep you alive then it’s worth it.”

“S’not.”

“It is. You are.” When he looked away, you leaned over to cup his cheek and turn his head to face you again. The emotions you saw there made your heart clench. “You are worth it. You will always be worth it, Daryl.”

His Adam's Apple bobbed when he swallowed, eyes looking back and forth between yours. “M’s’posed to watch out for ya.”

You shook your head. “You and me. This. Us. We’re a team. We watch out for each other.” His lip quivered so slightly that you almost missed it but you chose to leave it be. “That’s the deal, Dixon. You’re never getting rid of me.” A tear slid down your cheek. You hadn’t even realized you had started to cry. Daryl pulled away the hand you had never released and reached to wipe away the moisture with his thumb before wrapping his fingers around the side of your neck to pull you down.

It wasn’t your first kiss but like every one before it, it stole your breath. His lips moved against yours softly while he raised his hand from your neck to place it back against your cheek. Too soon, the moment ended and you sniffled away anymore tears while your forehead rested against his.

“M’okay with that.” He said quietly. “Not gettin’ ridda ya.”

You noticed the hint of a smile when you laughed. “You may change your mind about that when you see the hot pink thread I used to stitch up your thigh.”

Daryl rolled his eyes and pulled you down for another kiss. “Yeah, might want a refund after all.”

#murda writes #daryl dixon #daryl dixon fanfic #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon x y/n #daryl dixon x you #the walking dead #daryl x you #daryl x reader #daryl x y/n #daryl dixon x female reader #injured!daryl dixon #Spotify

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r4mmst3in · 9 months

Text

Collaborating Like Killers

Deathmetalhead! Reader x Sinclair Brothers

Warnings: death metal, Bo being himself, mvrder, d3ath

A/N: WOW!!! PELLE POSTED FOR THE FIRST TIME IN FOREVER!!! NO WAY!!! Also title is a Carnifex song lol

Bo Sinclair

He’s into it.

Not as much as you are, but he’s a metal/hard rock fan *que Dried Up, Tied Up, and Dead to The World by Marilyn Manson*

If you have long hair, he’s a big fan.

He loves messing with it, pulling it, or just pushing it out of your face.

He can’t braid it or anything but. He tries.

He doesn’t like how it can get yourself hurt in a situation with a tourist.

He doesn’t hate your music, but won’t have it playing if you were in the shop with him and a tourist came along.

One time a tourist escaped the shop and found you walking down from the house.

They pulled you down to the dirt by your hair, using one hand to hold you by your hair and one to hold your hands behind your back

Bo was pissed, to say the least.

Of course, that victim went into the museum.

Bo liked to take you to remind you that he’ll always protect you.

Vincent Sinclair

Oh cool.

He didn’t really get it at first, but the more you introduced him to it, he liked it.

He never listened to it usually, but after a rough day, he’ll like to relax with you while listening to some Carnifex.

If you had long hair: god, he loves it.

He has long hair himself, so I’d like to think that he’s good at styling it, or at least taking care of it.

If you want, he’d wash your hair for you.

He likes to relax like that, you sitting in the warm bath water as he massages your scalp.

A dream come true.

He can braid, most definitely.

Trudy would probably have taught him about hair, saying, “When you have your special someone, you can always do their hair.”

If he’s stressed, he’ll want to listen to some heavy shit with you. Most being Cannibal Corpse, Mayhem, or Exhumed.

His favorite song would be Limb From Limb by Exhumed. No real reason.

He just likes it.

Lester Sinclair

(HES SO PRETTY ALSBDODLSBSH)

He’s not a big fan.

He doesn’t understand how people could listen to men screaming into their ears.

But whatever makes you happy.

You with long hair = Lester’s lab rat.

He always wanted to learn how to do hair, especially curling it.

You didn’t like to curl your hair, but Lester always gave you puppy eyes.

You couldn’t say no.

Lester wouldn’t be opposed to listening to it.

If you wanted to listen with him, he’ll bob his head a little bit.

But he could never listen on his own.

He might listen to a few songs, just to listen when he’s with you.

But in all, he loves you no matter what.

Metalhead or not.

#sinclair brothers #slashers x reader #slasher fucker #bo sinclair x reader #vincent sinclair x reader #lester sinclair x reader #lester sinclair #bo sinclair #vincent sinclair #bo sinclair x male reader #vincent sinclair x male reader #lester sinclair x male reader #death metal #metalhead reader #metalhead

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devil-doll13 · 10 months

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Some House of Wax/Sinclair Brothers Headcanons I’ve had in my head that I’ve already shared w the server but… The rest of the world deserves to know.

Related to gif, Vincent is the ‘medical expert’ of the house solely because he’s the one who knows the human body/first aid the best. I mean, in the movie we see him stitching up those wounds on what’s-his-face pretty neatly, right? This is also part of the reason why he automatically reaches for Bo during this scene.

Given his birth date was sniffed out by fans before me (1970) and this man looks like he’s a cosplayer sometimes, I truly believe Bo idolised Elvis Presley as a kid, and maybe a bit as an adult as well. He still enjoys listening to rock n’ roll from that era when he’s in a good mood. When he’s in a bad mood, or doing his business™️ in his sex dungeon/basement, that’s when the Marilyn Manson comes on.

All of them have had an alt phase of some sort. For Vincent it was goth, for Bo it was rivethead/industrial rock and for Lester it was grunge.

Les is also down bad fucking horrendous for alt people in general. Yes, he has magazines stuffed down his sofa, yes, they used to be Bo’s.

Bo is allergic to nuts. He also gets really nasty hay fever. I also think possibly him having sensory issues/picky eater could’ve led to meltdowns as we see in the opening. And really, it’s the 1970s/80s do you expect his parents to understand or sympathise?

In contrast, Lester has the constitution of a Greek god somehow and has probably eaten some absolutely vile shit as a kid.

I know most people interpret Vince as sweet and shy but… While I do think he’s more measured and withdrawn compared to Bo, I also think being the ‘favourite’ in terms of being Trudy’s little art prodigy contributed to a sort of spoilt brattiness esp as a kid. (Exhibit A: The ‘Bo Sux’ fridge art in the opening) As an adult, there’s still a sense of entitlement to him. What I’m saying is that he’s an insufferable art nerd lol. He definitely isn’t toothless and his arguments with Bo aren’t necessarily one-sided, he’s just capable of ignoring him when he wants to; he’s used to his twin, after all. While I do think he’s capable of being soft, don’t forget this man killed a woman in cold blood and recorded it. I also think he can get snippy enough during arguments to combat Bo’s generally sharp tongue.

Speaking of which, everyone in the (surviving) family knows ASL. It’s necessary when communicating with Vincent.

Again with how prolific a killer Vincent is, I suspect he may be the one who does the most murder out of all of them. Bo is the handsome ‘face’ of Ambrose, and Vincent is right under the seedy underbelly with a knife, ready to spill guts (and then sew it up again once he’s got them in the workshop). Lester is similar to Bo in that he mostly just guides people toward the town, but I do think he gets his own notions sometimes.

From a more x reader perspective, Bo strikes me as a man who’s most charming when he’s not trying to be. Of course he can put on an act for victims/tourists, but those are just empty words, y’know? Also, has a kinda cheesy side.

I know everyone has Jonesy as Lester’s dog but… I think she’s really Vincent’s. In the movie, she’s always seen with Vin or in the house of wax itself, it’s only when he dies that she goes to Lester. I actually think Les is a cat person (tell me he wouldn’t actually encourage their hunting habits for his own personal collection…) while Vin is a dog person. Also, hot take I think Bo loves snakes and reptiles.

Given that the House of Wax and Ambrose itself is a big ol’ art project, and we’ve seen the state of the church (permanently in the middle of dead ass crusty Trudy’s funeral) I think there may be a sort of difficulty letting go of their past in the brothers, maybe some hoarding as well (I mean we haven’t even seen some of the other houses in Ambrose but this is just speculation). We get the sense that Ambrose is a place where time stands still, forever, until its conservationists finally die. Idk I’m talking out my ass here

#feel free to agree disagree criticise hate love flip flop #I’d honestly love to hear other people’s thoughts and headcanons too #I was talking in the server about this but I love how this fandom has just sustained itself on tumblr it’s really beautiful #Vincent Sinclair #Bo Sinclair #Lester Sinclair #House of Wax #House of Wax headcanons #headcanons #my writing

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yuujispinkhair · 2 years

Text

To the end - Masterpost

The end of the world as you knew it began with the virus spreading in your dorm. Six months later, you are once again on the run. By your side is Sukuna, the bad boy of your camp, the most unlikely companion you expected. But maybe this is exactly as it should be because sometimes hope comes in the form of a smug smirk and a tattooed pair of sword-yielding arms.

Sukuna x Reader (female) | Zombie Apocalypse AU | 18+ | Warnings in chapter descriptions | Minors don't interact

Story: Chapter 1 ++ Chapter 2 ++ Chapter 3 ++ Chapter 4 ++ Chapter 5 ++ Chapter 6 ++ Chapter 7

Inspiration: Fanart: Sukuna Playlist: Zombie Apocalypse

Chapter 1: ++ Bodies by Drowning Pool ++ Haunted House by DBMK

Chapter 2: ++ Twisted by Missio ++ The End by JPOLND ++ beetlejuicebeetlejuicebeetlejuice by Life After Youth

Chapter 3: ++ Happy Birthday by The Birthday Massacre ++ Kill4Me by Marilyn Manson

Chapter 4: ++ Party at the end of the world by My Chemical Romance

Chapter 5: ++ Running up that hill by Placebo ++ The ghost of you by My Chemical Romance ++ The jetset life is gonna kill you by My Chemical Romance

Chapter 6: ++ American Blood by Dead Poet Society ++ Soda by Nothing but Thieves ++ Like Fear like Love by The Birthday Massacre ++ Real Love Song by Nothing but Thieves

Chapter 7: ++ Apocalypse by Cigarettes After Sex ++ Painkiller by Nothing but Thieves ++ Driven like the snow by Sisters of Mercy ++ To the end by My Chemical Romance

#{💀💚} zombie apocalypse au

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the-au-thor · 1 month

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Babysitting Mun | Rockstar!Eddie Munson x Fem!reader

Note: So, a lot of you asked me for more parts to the little thing I wrote for rockstar!Eddie and you know you should ask and I'll deliver. If you like this I'll add more parts into this "series" cause I kinda like the dynamic between Assistant!Reader and Rockstar!Eddie.

Part 1

W/C: 3.2k

T/W: Read here!

As you walked through Eddie's property in Hollywood Hills, you saw him opening the door in his black velvet robe with his old D&D club emblem printed on the back. He had a worried expression on his face, and his legs were nervously fidgeting.

"It's my day off, Munson," you greeted as you reached his door.

He said your least favorite six words.

"Fey, I'm in a big trouble," he announced, opening the door and letting you into the huge foyer of his house.

It was a huge mess; underwear scattered on the floor, candy wrappers, empty bottles, and frankly, you didn't want to dig through the scattered blankets that left a trail upstairs. You looked at him impatiently, trying not to scream at him because that mess wasn't your home, and he could do whatever he wanted with it.

"This looks like a quiet Friday night, Munson, like any citizen of this beautiful city would have," you mentioned ironically.

Living a few blocks away was Marilyn Manson, Eddie could really recognize your tone.

"I met this girl: Baby," he said.

You blinked slowly.

"Cute name, I think my gynecologist also uses that stage name."

Eddie ignored your sardonic comment as he walked through the trash on the floor.

"She spent the night here, and it was amazing; sexy girl, beautiful blonde with... really long legs..."

You wanted to vomit.

"Munson. I'm not just another guy in your circle of friends, that's information I don't need to know," you reminded him with a churned stomach. "Why am I even here after receiving a call from you with a catastrophe voice?" you asked as he led you to his kitchen. Before entering, he looked at you with concern. You hadn't even seen him like this when he trashed the Marriott room, and photos of that night were leaked on a very famous morning show next day "Tell me she's not floating dead from an overdose in your pool because I'm telling you right now that I quit," you announced seriously.

He pressed his lips and stretched his arm toward the kitchen door; his robe opened, and you managed to see a bit of his chest full of tattoos covering the scars he never wanted to talk about.

"Worse," he announced before opening the door.

His huge kitchen greeted you. Everything seemed in order except for the dishwasher, which had a pile of dirty dishes. You scanned it, moving your gaze across the countertop and appliances until you reached the end of the marble table adorning the center of his kitchen, where a little boy with a curious knitted hat was sitting, concentrating on drawing something on a notebook with markers.

You closed the door to shout at Eddie without scaring the child.

"There's a kid in your kitchen," you pointed out, shocked with a muffled squeal. "What's a kid doing in your house, for God's sake. This is not a place for a child; this is not even a place for me."

"I don't know!" he whispered back, ignoring your offensive comment. That's when you knew he was really worried. "I went down this morning to make myself a smoothie, and I found him in the same spot. Little brat doesn't hear anything I say."

"Yeah? Well, sometimes I wish I didn't hear all the things you say," you frowned, opening the kitchen door again and walking toward the kid.

The little one had reddish strands peeking out from the edges of his hat and seemed clean and calm despite being alone in a huge house with a stranger who couldn't take care of himself properly. Unfazed, the kid continued coloring a drawing in his notebook, and you noticed a Animaniacs backpack behind him.

"Hey," you greeted him, then saw him coloring a dark-skinned man in what seemed to be a family portrait. You introduced yourself as you sat next to him. "What's your name?"

"I shouldn't talk to strangers," the child finally muttered, revealing a sweet and calm voice.

You smiled, almost proud that an unknown child could take care of himself despite, what? Being about 5 or 6 years old?

"That's okay," you nodded. "But you shouldn't be in a stranger's house either," you murmured, trying to reason with the child.

Eddie lost patience, after pinching the bridge of his nose, he put his palms on the island's surface, making the child stop coloring and look at him, scared.

"Where's your mother?" he asked.

"Munson!" you scolded him, but he didn't seem to regret his little outburst, especially since he at least got a reaction from the kid.

"For crying out loud, Fey, I've tried asking him a hell numerous times about his mother, and he still won't answer," Eddie explained, pointing his finger at the child.

"She said she'd come for me; I don't know if she mentioned anything else while she was with you," the kid spoke seriously, and you noticed that Eddie wasn't very well-liked.

Eddie pressed his lips and pointed his index finger at him.

"Look, you little sh..."

"Oh, okay!" you stood up to intervene, taking Eddie by the shoulders. "You know, superstar? I think I can handle it from here. You go..." you looked at him closely; he was wearing mismatched socks, and his hair was a mess "go brush your teeth and... wash yourself" you started pushing him out of the kitchen.

"I need you to fix this, Fey."

You frowned and lowered your voice.

"I should let you fix it yourself, you know?" you asked. "But that kid isn't to blame if his mother prefers a man over his own safety," you spat angrily and laughed sardonically, "you sure know how to pick 'em," you murmured almost disdainfully.

You had never criticized his flings, even when the most terrible girls had done the walk of shame right in front of you, you had kept your opinions to yourself. Moreover, you also acknowledged a severe emotional problem in Eddie, something about fear of commitment, yet seeking love as long as he was safe from getting hurt. Still, you hadn't opened your mouth to comment on it. This was the limit.

"I'll find out about his parents and try to contact her," you assured him before closing the kitchen door in his face without letting him defend himself and turning to look at the child who watched the exchange you and Eddie had had.

"I hate mom's boyfriends," the child finally admitted before returning to his coloring.

You sighed somewhat sadly for him; it was clear he was more than used to being in strange houses with people he didn't know.

"I know, but the good thing is that the grumpy one over there is not her boyfriend, so don't hate him too much, okay?" you asked, although you really didn't owe Eddie anything. You sat back down next to him. "Did your mommy give you any instructions before she left?"

The boy shrugged.

"She said to be a good boy, not to bother, and that she would come to get me before the day ended."

You nodded uncertain about what the hell that could mean to that woman "before the day ended."

"Okay," you picked up your cell phone and called Florence, the housekeeper, to start cleaning up the mess Eddie left in the main room and probably in his bedroom as well. You didn't want to find out, to be honest

"I clean too, you know…when my mom is too tired to do anything," the kid said when you finished the call.

You looked at the child and squinted thoughtfully.

"How old are you?"

"I'm turning eight next month."

You raised your eyebrows.

"Great, have someone ever told you that you're very mature for a seven-year-old? It's good that you take care of your mom."

The boy looked up from his notebook and glanced at you for a few seconds.

"My name is Tobias, they call me Toby."

You smiled.

"Nice to meet you, Tobias, I already told you my name, right?"

"But he called you Fey."

You chuckled when you saw that he was referring to Eddie.

"Yeah, he kind of plays by his own rules, so don't worry, Toby," you leaned on the island and smiled at him. "Toby, this is not a place for a child, and if I take you with me, it will be difficult for your mother to find you. Is there any way I can contact someone else from your family?" you asked, hoping the kid had at least one functional adult who could help him.

The child seemed pensive.

"I have my emergency information in my backpack," he recalled, and you smiled relieved, jumping away from the island and going for his backpack.

"All right, Toby, did you eat anything?"

"Mom gave me cereal before she left," he changed markers and continued drawing carefully.

"Cereal doesn't sound enough, do you want me to make you some toast with eggs and bacon? Honestly, I'm famished and could use something to eat," you announced as you prepared the food for Toby.

When Eddie and the band weren't on tour, you made sure to fill Eddie's fridge and pantry with things that weren't preheated and frozen food. When you were hired as his assistant over a year ago, this wasn't part of your duties, but you couldn't see him get intoxicated with poorly frozen pizza again. It was easier to keep track of his diet when you were on tour with them; they spent most of their time together, and that's when he behaved the best. It was during breaks like these when he lost a bit of control and got into trouble he couldn't handle alone.

You and Toby ate, and you saved some for Eddie whenever he wanted to came down from his room, already bathed and dressed in something more than just underwear and a robe. Florence went to the kitchen to clean up the mess Eddie had left there, and you went to the living room where the housekeeper made magic. When Eddie came down from his room, he was wearing an old black-sleeved shirt and worn-out jeans. His feet, however, were bare, showing the tattoos he had gotten a few weeks ago.

"Finally," you stood up with your phone when you saw Eddie starting to walk to the sofa and looking at Toby with despair. He looked at you somewhat impatiently.

"And he's still here," he rolled his eyes slightly resigned and sighed.

"I'm sorting that out now; I need you to stay with Toby for a few minutes. His mother hasn't shown any signs of life, but I have his father's contact," you asked him with a low voice so that Toby, sitting on the sofa while trying to solve some math problems from his algebra class, wouldn't hear.

"Oh, so the little Boggle has a name," he said sarcastically.

"Behave!" you asked him with a frown and approached him to wipe shaving foam from his chin as he obediently stood still. "We left French toast and egg with bacon for you," you announced, while going to the kitchen to prepare Toby's food.

Eddie rolled his eyes slightly resigned and sighed.

"Great: he stays in my house, eats my food, and now I have to be his babysitter."

"Yeah, Munson," you nodded, "it's good for you to occasionally taste your own medicine."

"You better find that kid's father, Fey; it's been a while since I dealt with kids, and I wasn't very good at it either," he admitted.

"Yeah, yeah," you started dialing Toby's father's number and walked to the backyard so as not to have an awkward conversation in front of the kid. "Do me a favor and don't create emotional permanent scars on him, okay?"

He made a face, sticking his tongue out and hissing like a snake, earning Toby's curious look.

"What?" Eddie asked. "Have you never been a kid in your life?"

Toby settled on the sofa somewhat tense.

"Sometimes I stick my tongue out at mom when she doesn't see me," he admitted.

Eddie watched him; he was a little goblin with round glasses and somewhat chubby. Not only was he lost, but he seemed lost, and suddenly for a brief moment, Eddie saw himself in a corner of the cafeteria where his mom worked, drawing magical creatures in an old notebook while waiting for it to be midnight so his mom's shift would end and he could go home. His mom would never have left him alone in a stranger's house, of course. The kid's mother was hot, but stupid, totally stupid.

"Okay, Pip, what are you doing?" Eddie saw his notebook and closed it even to the little protest of the child. "You're not going to be doing this on a Saturday in my house; you're what? Four?"

"I'm turning eight," he said through gritted teeth.

"You and I are going to listen to music, okay? Have you ever heard music before?"

"I'm seven, not an alien," he replied, almost offended.

Eddie went to pick a record from his vinyl collection and gave you a knowing smile.

"Let's educate you, Pip."

"My name isn't Pip," the kid said tiredly, remembering what you had told him about Eddie playing by his own rules.

Eddie then put the record on his record player, and the music started playing.

Tobias's father was leaving his job at the mechanic downtown to go pick him up from Eddie's house. Having a conversation with him wasn't difficult, and he seemed genuinely concerned about his son, so at least you were getting back inside Eddie's house with the relief of returning the kid to someone who actually cared. You heard the music before stepping inside the house, Toby's laughter mixing with Eddie's and Kevin Rowland's voice. When you passed by the living room, Eddie had managed to get the kid to leave the notebook aside and had taken off his shoes to dance to the music, mimicking Eddie in his delirious spiral as he tried to play air guitar following the notes of Geno.

You watched them; Eddie's still wet hair bouncing around his face as he encouraged Toby to follow the music and listen to the bass because that's where the beat is or something like that. You leaned against the wall to watch their act for the rest of the song. Your stomach did that again; every time Eddie showed some substance beneath that tough shell of indifference.

You disappeared from there and only returned to announce that Toby's father had arrived to pick him up, finding Eddie trying to teach him a cooler way to tie his shoelaces. You smiled at the kid and guided him to his father who was waiting outside with his well-maintained Volkswagen. Toby ran to his father, and he hugged him lovingly; there was no trace of neglect.

"I really appreciate you taking care of him; I don't know how to repay you," he thanked you, still holding the boy in his arms. The man had somewhat dark skin and curly hair, like Toby's. "My ex-wife is a bit careless and thinks everyone can take care of him. I'll talk to her; I know this looks bad."

"It's not your fault," you began to deny, but Eddie took over the conversation.

"Tell her she's a very S-H-I-T-T-Y mother, and I hope she appreciates the son she has," he mentioned bluntly in a low voice so that Toby wouldn't hear.

You slightly chuckled because Eddie had at least meant well by insulting Toby's mother without him noticing.

"Eddie, I'm seven, I already know how to spell," the boy wriggled out of his father's embrace to give Eddie a furrowed brow.

Well, at least he had the intention. It didn't work, but it's the thought that counts.

"I'm Nelson, by the way," he introduced himself, shaking Eddie's hand. "I'm sorry you had to be my son's babysitter."

"I'm sorry I slept with your ex," Eddie mentioned bluntly, without mincing words, and close to the guy's ear so that Toby wouldn't hear.

"No problem," he even seemed amused by it. "Lilian is free to do what she wants."

So she has a name…

Eddie gave you a sidelong glance, and you just smiled back at Nelson because you wouldn't throw one of your witty sarcastic comments.

Finally, Toby said goodbye to Eddie, and you could see a sad gleam in his eyes, seeming like a huge difference from the way the kid had looked at him annoyed that morning in the kitchen. Eddie Munson, of course, would manage to win over the kid whose mother had put aside for a brief fling with a rocker who you were sure would end up being just a forgettable event. You hugged Toby, trying not to lose your composure, reminding yourself that the kid wasn't your responsibility, and bid them both farewell with a smile.

You and Eddie watched the car disappear behind the large fortified gates of his mansion, and then you heard him chuckle.

"She was sexier when she was Baby, not Lilian," he murmured humorously.

You raised a slight smile and laughed, crossing your arms to look at him sideways.

"And when she was just a girl with long legs and not a S-H-I-T-T-Y mother, huh?" Eddie rolled his eyes but didn't refute your comment. "You'd be a very B-A-D-A-S-S father by the way."

He frowned quickly, incredulous.

"What the hell are you talking about, Fey?"

You turned to him, trying to hide your smile.

"About you with Toby; you won him over, Mun. I think when you decide to settle down and stop doing stupid shits that I have to save you from, you'll be a very good father."

He blinked rapidly, incredulous.

"Did you find the jewelry box in my underwear drawer and smoke whatever was inside?"

You frowned.

"a) I would never go through your underwear drawer by my own will, and b) thanks for telling me where you hide your crap," you replied quickly. "I'm not joking, Munson, I mean it from the heart."

He seemed to hate that idea, although something in his gaze seemed somewhat moved, but he quickly made it disappear with a look of disgust.

"Not gonna discuss that with you, Fey. I won't be a good father 'cause I'm never gonna be a father in first place"

You frowned ready to argue about that

"But, Munson..."

"Feywild, I pay you to be my assistant, not my motivational coach; assist me."

"Fine, I already assisted you on my day off, so I think this is my cue to leave," you went for your bag into his Foyer, and when you came out, Eddie was waiting for you in the same place, in the opulent entrance of his home next to the marble pillars holding the front facade. "I hope I don't have to come because you adopted another one of your girl's babies, okay?" you asked, but you weren't really blaming him for anything.

Eddie noticed it from the way you looked at him, and you decided to do that small servile bow that, unwittingly, you always did when you said goodbye to him or accepted one of his complicated tasks. He saw you start walking out, where you surely parked your car.

"Feywild," he called you, and you turned to him. You had strands of your hair on your face, and he saw your slightly worn-out converse sneakers, which you always wore even though you had money to replace them but for some reason were emotionally attached to them.

He could tease you about it, but he wouldn't. He understood without you explaining it because there was a reason he kept his old van in his garage with the same scraped paint.

"What's up, Munson, already missing me?"

He smiled. "Thanks for saving my ass today."

You pressed your lips into a smile. "Always, Mun."

#eddie munson x female reader #rockstar!eddie x reader #rockstar!eddie munson x assistant!reader #rockstar eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson frenemies to lovers #corroded coffin #eddie munson #stranger things fanfic #stranger things au #edie munson au

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