#which is at least half of why he's so crazy for the rest of the story | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

forever-rogue · 5 months

Note

hello, lovely! i've been re-reading your works like CRAZY, you're so talented! 🩷 can i pretty please request for a friends-to-lovers one with eddie where the reader's ex suddenly comes back to her life and tries to win her back, and eddie realizes his feelings for the reader? i LIVE for jealous!eddie too sksksks thank you! 🩷

AN | Nothing good happens when the ex comes to town, right? 🥰

Warnings | Language

Pairing | Modern!Eddie x Fem!Reader

Word Count | 2.5k

Masterlist | Main, Eddie

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“Guess what,” you walked into Eddie’s cozy coffee shop, waving at a few regulars as you made your way over to the counter. He stopped what he was doing and looked at you with expectant eyes, a lazy little half smile on his features, “hiya!”

“Hi sweetheart,” he leaned onto the counter, resting his chin in his hands as he looked at you gently, “lemme guess…chicken butt?”

“Very funny,” you leaned in and kissed his cheek before you reached over and helped yourself to one of his brownies. He always saved at least one for you, which was something that always made you feel warm and fuzzy inside, “but no.”

“Do tell then,” he grinned as he turned back to the espresso maker, “gingerbread flat white?”

“Ooh, yes please,” you watched him work in awe before he came back over to you, setting the cup carefully in front of you, “no, the exciting thing that happened to me was that I saw August today!”

Eddie’s face dropped immediately as his jaw clenched, “August.”

“Yes!” you looked happy and somehow that made his stomach churn, “he came into the office today to consult with one of the designers and I saw him when I was leaving! He had no clue I worked there and I had no clue he was there.”

“Your ex,” he pointed out as you lifted up the cup and started to drink the delicious latte, “August, your ex.”

“Yes,” you raised an eyebrow before sighing lightly, “we’re still…well I wouldn’t say friends. But we needed things amicably if you don’t remember.”

“You cried over him for weeks,” he almost shouted but quickly dropped his voice as he narrowed his eyes, “he broke your heart!”

“Yes, he broke up with me, but it wasn’t over anything bad,” you cringed when you remembered that you really had been upset when August had broken up with you, “we just weren’t good together. That’s all.”

“I never liked him,” that was the understatement of the century. Eddie didn’t just dislike August, he hated and loathed him entirely. You’d broken your heart and Eddie couldn’t stand that. Just like he hated the face that he was dating you in the first place. Eddie had been in love with you for as long as he could remember. Probably since the day he’d met you over ten years ago, “he’s always been a little bit…scrungly.”

“Scrungly?” you repeated, almost choking on the coffee in between your giggles, “what does that even mean?”

“I don’t know, just like scrungly,” he flailed his arms dramatic, “either way I don’t like him.”

“I’m well aware, Edward,” you reached over and gave his hand a squeeze, “but it is what it is…and we’re going hang out and go bowling soon.”

“You’re what?” he looked like he was going to explode and you couldn’t help but laugh nervously. You’d always wondered why he didn’t like August but he never really had a solid reason. You figured it was just some weird guy thing, “why are you hanging out with him?!”

“Because he asked if I wanted to hang out and there’s no reason not to,” you straightened up and grabbed your coffee, “look, Eddie, I know you mean well, but you don’t have to worry. It’ll be fine. I’ll be fine. We’re just going to hang out once and if it’s completely terrible I never have to see him again, and if it goes well maybe we can be friends. Okay?”

“Yeah,” he lied right through his teeth, “okay.”

“I’ve gotta go,” you took a step back and offered him a small smile, “see you tomorrow for movie and pizza night?”

“Of course,” like he would miss a chance to spend time with you, “love you.”

“Love you too, Eddie,” you promised. If only he knew how very much, “thanks for the coffee.”

“Anytime.”

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“Hey!” you looked up from your phone when you heard the sound of August’s cheery voice. Tucking your phone into your pocket, you walked over and met him halfway to say hello. He pulled you in for a friendly hug, “you look great. It’s good to see you again. Really good.”

“It’s good to see you too Auggie,” you felt your face warm up but decided to ignore it as you walked up towards the bowling alley. You reminded yourself that this was a friendly outing and not a date, “I can’t believe you’re back in Indy now.”

“I can’t believe you work as an interior designer,” he held the door open and you were immediately overwhelmed by the sounds of people bowling, talking, and laughing. You looked at him with a shy smile and shrugged. It hadn’t been a career you would have thought of either, but Eddie had nudged in the direction after you’d helped him design his cafe. Besides becoming friends with Eddie, it was one of the best designs you’d ever made.

“It just sort of happened but I love it,” you walked towards the counter to get your shoes and a lane, “you remember Eddie, right? He helped me get there, he was a huge supporter.”

You both gave your shoe sizes to the bored looking clerk and when he told you the price for everything, you moved to reach for your wallet but August gently pushed your hand away, “I’ve got this.”

“Okay,” you gave him a starry eyed smile as he grabbed both pairs of shoes and started to head towards the lane that was now reserved for you. The bowling alley always had a very distinct smell but it was so nostalgic to be there, “I haven’t been bowling in forever. This was a good idea! I think the last time I went was a couple of years ago with Eddie.”

“Eddie,” you couldn’t quite tell what he was thinking from the tone in his voice, “you’re still friends with him?”

“Of course,” you finished pulling on your shoes and looked at him curiously, “he’s my best friend.”

“He’s in love with you,” okay. That was definitely annoyance in his voice and you had no clue why, “I’ll be honest with you, it was one of the reasons we broke up in the first place. Sometimes it felt like you were dating him, not me.”

“I…he’s not in love with me,” your mind was reeling at what he had said and you couldn’t help but wonder - what if? What if Eddie really was in love with you? No…you weren’t even going to bother to entertain that thought, “you broke up with me because of Eddie?”

“It wasn’t entirely him,” he dropped his voice and looked at you sweetly, “but people change and grow, you know? You never know what could happen.”

There was definitely a suggestive tone to his voice that was not lost on you. You only managed a small smile in return before clambering nervously to pick up your bowling ball. You felt his fingers brush along your back as you moved, causing goosebumps to erupt all over your skin.

“You never know,” you agreed nervously, voice almost a squeak as you went to take your first shot. That did have you thinking though - would you want to get back together with him? You had never really thought about it…but the idea wasn’t all that bad either. It wasn’t like people were lining up out the door to ask you out…sometimes you had to take what you could get.

A part of you was excited by the prospect - he was a good looking, nice guy that you did love once upon a time. On the other hand, you didn’t want to open that can of worms and let anything happen that could end with another broken heart. Plus there was the issue of Eddie. Realistically it was a non-issue. But you knew that your heart would always long for and yearn for Eddie. You loved him, you’d known that for a long time, but you always knew that nothing would ever happen or change between the two of you.

August continued to be friendly enough and you didn’t think anything of it, but as the night progressed, you could tell that things had changed. You hadn’t done anything, not to your knowledge anyway, to act flirty or make it seem like you wanted anything but friendship with him. It was his comments about Eddie that had you experiencing a feeling of unease. The way he’d talked about him just didn’t sit right with you.

By the time the two of you felt the bowling alley and parted with August pressing a kiss to your cheek, you’d realized that this definitely had been a date.

Fuck. You really hadn’t expected this to happen.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Ever since the night you’d gone out with August, Eddie was behaving oddly towards you. You couldn’t quite place it but you hated the idea that he was any bit mad or annoyed with you.

You’d been texting with August back and forth, and you were both following each other again on social media. You’d made plans for a casual lunch date soon; it was since Eddie had learned about your second outing that he’d been acting weird. You were pretty sure that he was just downright ignoring you. But you weren’t about to let that stop you from being his friend.

“Hey there,” you walked into the shop when you knew it would be slow and he’d be there. You were almost positive that he’d been avoiding you and had his employees cover for him when you came to the shop. Eddie’s face paled as soon as he saw you, but he still managed a tight lipped smile, “everything alright, Eddie? I feel you’ve been…avoiding me.”

“I haven’t been…I’ve just been busy,” he shrugged noncommittally as he went back to scrub at the counter, “that’s all.”

“You’ve always been a horrible liar, Edward,” you walked up to the counter and offered him what you hoped was a reassuring smile, “did I do something wrong?”

“I…no. You didn’t,” he still wouldn’t meet your eyes but pushed a muffin towards you. Of course he still would save your favorite for you, “it’s nothing.”

“Funny,” you willed him to look at you but the boy still refused, “it doesn’t feel like it. Ever since I hung out with August you’ve been…weird.”

"You don't get it, do you?" He sighed in frustration, tossing his rag to the side and waving his hands around dramatically as you looked at him in confusion. He inhaled and exhaled deeply before brushing his wild curls out of his face, "I want you. I want to date you. I'm in love with you."

"Oh," it came out more as a small squeak than anything as you looked at him to make sure you'd heard him correctly. Eddie looked close to tears as he waited for some kind of response from you. You pointed at yourself before whispering, "me?"

"Yes," he nodded seriously, "you. I'm sorry if that's not what you wanted to hear but it's the truth. And I just wanted to get it out there."

"Oh," this time realization set in. Eddie Munson was in love with you. Not some other girl like you'd always assumed, "you're in love with me."

"Yes. Yes," he felt so nervous he was surprised he didn't just barf then and there, "listen-"

"I'm in love with you too,” your voice was quiet and shaky, but Eddie heard you loud and clear. When he didn’t say anything at first, you completely freaked out and ran through the back of the cafe and into the chilly evening. He followed after you immediately and didn’t stop still he caught up.

He perked up and looked at you from under his lashes, studying your face to make sure he’d heard you correctly. You offered a small, shy smile along with a shrug, “I’m…nervous. I dunno, I kind of always thought you knew but you never said because you didn’t want to hurt my feelings or let me down.”

“I - ugh, what…I’m - sweetheart,” the nickname sounded so sugary sweet now that you knew the true intentions behind it, “if I had any clue that you felt the same way, I would have said something long ago. I should have just done that anyway.”

“Oh,” your cheeks warmed up, a combination of nerves and the chilly of the winter air as you looked at the pretty boy. You were stopped from saying anything else as big, flat snowflakes starting coming down on the two of you. A grin spread across your face as you held up your hand to catch a few flakes in your hand, “it’s snowing.”

Eddie watched you in awe, enamored by every little bit of you. He reached over and put his hand on your face, brushing his thumb over your cheek. Your breath hitched in your throat as you look at him expectantly. You knew what was coming but at the same time you didn’t want to assume anything, “I really want to kiss you.”

“I really want you to kiss me too,” you grinned as you leaned in closer, meeting him halfway until your lips met his. It was a sweet, slow thing, tender but hungry at the same time. Both of you had been wanting this for way too long, and now your dreams were finally coming true.

A first kiss in the middle of the first snow of the season. How could it get any more perfect?

Eddie took your face in his hands, and peppered your face in kisses, which only caused you to giggle, “c’mon pretty girl. Let’s get inside and get some hot chocolate.”

“That sounds perfect,” you reached for his hand and laced your fingers together and pulled him back towards the cafe, “c’mon handsome.”

“But first promise me one thing,” he stopped you nervously as you raised an eyebrow at him, “promise me you won’t see him again. He’s the worst.”

“I promise,” you definitely weren’t planning on ever seeing him again, “it’s only you for me, Eddie.”

“Yeah,” he agreed softly, “you’re it for me too, sweetheart. Only you.”

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson one shot #joseph quinn #st

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urhoneycombwitch · 2 months

Text

golden boy

🍯 honey flavour: Steve’s always been sweet with you. You’re determined to make a deviant of him yet.

🐝 the bees: Steve Harrington x Reader

wc: 2.2k

cw: soft!dom Steve origins, blowjob, throatpie, hair pulling (no physical desc of R besides hair being long enough to grab), R has breasts and a V

foreword: basically Han of @stevenose and anons talked about corrupting Steve Harrington into being more dominant and I haven’t stopped thinking about it. this one goes out to the freak nasties!!!

Steve is your golden boy.

Through years of friendship that spilled over into romance that settled into a happy partnership, Steve has been nothing but kind, patient, loyal, and sweet to you. His warm aura is a comfort nothing else in this world can compare.

In bed, he’s near-saintly: checking in every few minutes to make sure you’re okay, making you come at least twice like the gentleman he is before even thinking about his own release, petting and soothing and kissing at your skin until you’re melting for him.

Steve’s the closest thing to an angel on earth, probably- which is why your recent secret fantasies have felt a little unsettling. Lately you’ve been dreaming about what it would be like to have your golden boy fill out your throat with his thick cock, hands on either side of your head to keep you in place. Or what it would be like to ride him long after he’s come, dripping sweat and gritting teeth until he fills you up again.

You haven’t yet had the courage to bring up these latest fantasies, not with the boy who treats you so softly, who murmurs apologies any time his hands tighten on your hips. It’s not as though your longing for a bit of Steve’s roughness is entirely unfounded- it probably started around the time that you witnessed him kill a Demobat with his bare hands, broad chest heaving with exertion, a dark look in his eyes that made the heartbeat between your legs pound.

Maybe it was a little crazy to be turned on in an alternate dimension, but Steve brought out the wanton parts of you that had previously been buried under people-pleasing tendencies- even if he didn’t know it.

You were pretty sure that with a little coaxing, you could bring out the animal that simmered under his golden surface.

You’re gonna have to start slow, though. Ease him into it. If Steve knew half the dirty things you were thinking he’d probably implode on the spot.

A soft beam of evening sun lights the front room of the Harrington house; Steve’s glasses rest on the bridge of his nose as he frowns down at the book in his lap, lips moving silently as he reads. You watch from the edge of the room, hip propped against the doorway, mindlessly drying your hands wet from dinner dishes on a teatowel until Steve speaks.

“Y’know, I promised Eddie I’d finish this stupid book before Friday but if my pretty girlfriend was gonna distract me I’m not sure how that’d be my fault.” His eyes haven’t left the page, feigning casual, but his smirk grows as you move towards the couch.

“Oh, so you’re gonna blame it on me?” you tease, tossing the towel aside and shaking your head with a tsk. “That’s not very considerate. Seeing as how much of a stickler Eddie is for his deadlines.”

“Nah, I wouldn’t let him be grouchy with you,” Steve says, shutting his book and tilting his knees out a bit so you can stand between them. “You’re too pretty.”

“You’re one to talk,” you counter, fondly, reaching up for his glasses as his hands come up to settle on your hips. You fold his glasses and set them neatly on top of his book, and Steve squeezes at your sides gently.

“My hero, come to distract me. Wanna watch a movie or somethin’? I brought a few home from work, there’s a stack somewhere around here. We could…”

He trails off when you sink to the floor, kneeling in front of him, caged in by his jean-clad legs. His hands rest on your shoulders, a little unsure as he chuckles- “Shit, honey, I didn’t mean- we can just, uh, watch a movie, i-if you want…”

“We could do that,” you agree, with a neutral shrug, gliding your palms up his thighs. “Or you could let me suck you off.”

Steve gulps audibly, and you bite back a smile at the heat that’s already rising pink in his cheeks. His plush lips are parted in a little o, blinking down at you through long, dark lashes as your hands pluck at the button of his jeans.

You can count on one hand the number of times your mouth has pulled an orgasm from Steve’s cock- he’s always too eager to flip the tables, go down on you until you’re the one crying with pleasure. It’s a damn shame, because he has a mouth-wateringly beautiful dick that’s currently filling out with each pass of your hand over the fabric of his crotch.

“I’m pretty good at them, you know,” you tell him, conversationally, tugging the waistband of his jeans down.

“At what?” Steve asks, lifting his hips a bit to help you slide his pants to mid-thigh. He watches, mesmerized, as you stroke him through his white cotton briefs, his hips making short little movements into your touch.

“Blowjobs,” you reply, then lean down to suck the head of his fully hard cock into your mouth. There’s a layer of fabric in the way but based on the noise that Steve makes, he doesn’t mind the friction.

“Oh, fuck.” His hands tighten on your shoulders as you suck, then lathe against the line of his bulge up and down with your tongue. “Oh, fuck.”

When you mouth around his balls, Steve chokes out another swear, hands flying to the couch cushion beside his legs to avoid sinking his nails into your soft skin (although you wish he would).

You lift your head from his lap for just the time it takes to shove his underwear down, and then your mouth is back on your prize, that lovely, leaking tip disappearing behind your lips again as Steve groans in response.

“Shit, sweetheart. Fuck. Feels so good…”

His raspy voice spurs you on to take more of him in, sinking your face closer to the mess of coarse, wiry hair that sits below his soft stomach as your throat invites him in. Steve makes a sharp, choking sound, like he’s looking for air but can’t find any.

You glide back up his length, take him down again, repeating the motion again and again until his thighs are shaking around you, until he says your name in warning, knuckles white on the cushion.

“Not gonna last, honey, please, come up here, wanna taste you…”

Steve’s hands soothe against your upper arms, intending to pull you into his lap, following the same pattern you’re all-too familiar with by now. But this time, you stand (or rather, kneel) your ground, pulling off him with a wet pop and looking up into those chocolate-brown eyes hazy with lust.

“You gonna give me what I want?” Your voice is already a bit raw from having him down your throat; Steve nods rapidly and begins to try and help you up but then stops, confused, when you keep your weight on the ground. “I want you to come in my mouth. Think you can do that, pretty boy?”

Steve’s chest is heaving underneath his striped shirt as he stares down at you, enraptured- you think he’d give you just about anything right now. When he nods again, albeit hesitantly this time, you give him a smile before letting a line of spit fall from your mouth to his cock, the wetness getting worked in with your agile fist sliding up and down his length.

Steve moans, hands flexing around the meat of your upper arms when you take him into your mouth again. You set a steady pace, listening for the hitch in his breathing. There’s a small thunk, and when you flick your gaze up, Steve’s head is tilted against the back of the couch, jaw half-open, eyes squeezed shut under his furrowed brow.

When you slide a hand to roll his balls between your thumb and forefinger, you can feel the effect it has on him, thick cock kicking against the wet pad of your tongue, stomach muscles tensing as he babbles out, “Fucking christ, oh, jesus, baby, yeah, like that, so good, fuck me…”

You alternate a rolling pressure on each of his balls, relaxing your throat and breathing through your nose carefully to take him in further. You’ve never had him like this before, completely gone under your touch, each sound he makes going straight to the wet mess gathering in your underwear.

Steve’s been diligent about keeping his hips planted firmly on the couch, but when your throat suddenly constricts around his length he hisses sharply, body rocking forward despite himself to chase that tightness.

He’s immediately apologetic, pulling you off with big, gentle hands on either side of your neck, thumbs stroking at your cheeks. You allow him a moment of placation, pressing a kiss to his twitching tip- and then you guide his hands to the nape of your neck.

Steve’s fingers automatically twine into your hair as he looks down at you, equal parts nervous and turned on. Your cheek drags against his jeans as you let him guide your mouth back to his lap.

You swirl your tongue over his leaking slit, and his hands tighten around your head- “Don’t hold back, ‘kay?”- and then you swallow him down again.

This time, Steve keeps his hands where they are, cradling the back of your skull as the head of his dick slips past your soft palate; when your throat squeezes around him again, Steve lets out a warbly moan, obeying your instructions and letting his hips jerk forward.

“Jesus, honey. Oh god. Yeah, like that- f-fucking christ, sweetheart. Throat feels s’good, so fucking good…”

The wet squelch of his cock bullying the back of your throat fills the room; locked in place by his knees and hands you wriggle happily, the vibrations of your muffled encouragement sending his hips spasming forward again.

“Fuck, baby, oh fuck, gonna make me come, y’feel so good, angel… so good for me- you want it down your throat? Want me to fill you up?”

Steve sounds wrecked, voice strung thin as his grip gets tight enough on the root of your hair to dull pain, sending a shockwave of arousal to your aching clit. You relax your jaw the slightest bit more, fitting him snugly past your molars with another obscene squelch, spurring him on as your hands find purchase in the waistband of his jeans.

Steve gets the memo. He comes with a gorgeous whine, spilling warm into you while his hips stutter towards your face, rambling sex-drunk nonsense while he fucks your throat.

“Oh, fuck, fuck, baby, yeah, that’s it, m’coming, ah- so good, honey, feels so good, please don’t stop, please please please…”

His cum slides easily down your throat as you wring out the last of his orgasm, swallowing it down until he’s whimpering from the overstimulation. Steve’s hands loosen just enough for you to ease him from your mouth, both of you panting in tandem as your head lolls to rest against his thigh.

“Not that I’m complaining,” he starts, fucked-out, soothing fingers in your hair where his grip was brutal just moments ago, “but where the fuck did that come from?”

With a grin, you lift yourself into Steve’s lap, giving him a mock-pout when he hisses at the feeling of your jeans against his sensitive dick- “You really wanna know?”

Steve’s hands trail up, up again, soft over your arms, cinnamon eyes glassy, looking at you like you hang the moon and stars and everything in between. “Yeah. I do.”

Feeling suddenly shy, you drop your own gaze to Steve’s collar, smoothing the fabric that got rucked about during all that head-tossing back into place. “Um. When we were in… the Upside Down? And you killed that bat. With your bare hands. You looked so… hot.”

The memory surfaces and your shiver in Steve’s arms, spearing your bottom lip between your teeth before you continue. “And it just got me thinkin’. About how strong you are. And how sometimes I want you to- to…”

Steve finishes for you, threading a hand through the hair at the back of your neck again to tug, questioning. “To do this?”

“Mhm.” Your eyes flutter shut as he keeps that pressure, tracking his other hand across your chest and giving a light squeeze to your clothed breast. “Ah- yeah. Think about you holding me down. Taking what you want. Makin' me yours.”

“Fuck,” he mutters, then uses the leverage he’s got to expose your neck, fitting his mouth over that sweet spot he knows you love, adding a flash of teeth that makes you squirm. “I can do that, pretty girl. Just gotta show me how.”

You blink up at the ceiling as Steve works his way across your throat, held steady in his grasp, feeling his cock begin to thicken between your clothed thighs. Your warm cunt throbs, feeling left out.

“Ever heard of the stoplight system, Stevie?”

___

will write a part II if ya’ll have any interest! <3

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington smut #+18 #mdni

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harrystylesfan2686 · 3 months

Text

Alone Part 2 (Alternative Ending)

Pairing: Eris x Reader

Summary: Reader finally finds someone who cares for her but at what cost...

Warnings: Minor Mention of self harm

A/N: Surprise😏

Masterlist Part 1

○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●

It has been three days since your last mission, the very mission that got you hurt and made you realize just how fucked your head is. Three days since you left the fight that left you with a big tear at your waist which will most definitely leave a scar.

It's half healed already, so is the cut you gave yourself but you didn't realize how deep you hurt yourself because it's left a thin white line that's fully healed but can be easily recognized.

You shift on your feet from where you're standing beside the rest of inner circle. You are at the high lords meeting, accompanying your High Lord and High Lady.

You keep moving your weight from one foot to another because the pressure keeps causing pain in your waist. You can't wait for this to be over.

When you get a chance to leave you take it, running of the the nearest restroom you can find. You take off your fight leathers to find out you bled through your bandaid. You rub your hands over your head trying to think of a way you can hide your injury from everyone.

"Well, what do we have here." A voice fills the room, one that you know oh so well. He always does this, annoy you or talk to you every chance he gets. You don't know why but you put up with him everytime too. You practically hear the smirk in his words as you complaint to the Mother for putting you in this situation right now.

"Go away, Eris." You hope for him to take the hint and leave you alone but you, too, know that it's too late considering you can clearly smell you blood in the room, and so can he.

He crosses the room in just a few strides and puts a hand on your shoulder, turning you around with surprising gentleness. He sees the blood on you shirt that's seeped out of your bandaid and intakes a sharp breath.

"Left up your shirt." You are taken a back at his order. Mouth opened agaped as you see anger swirling in his amber eyes.

"Excuse me?"

"Y/N, If you don't lift your shirt up in the next minute, I'm going to rip it off of you." He practically growls. Your eyes widen and he raises his eyebrows, daring you to question him.

After a minute of silence, he raises his hands to your shirt and you take a step back,"Alright! I'll do it!" His eyes narrow and you sigh, lifting you shirt for his to see the scarlet bandage.

"Who did this to you?" His hands clench into fists.

"No one. It's nothing." You sigh.

"Was it an enemy?" You shake your head. "Who was it?" You shut your mouth and look away. Eris' eyes widen in realisation. "Was it them?" He spits in anger. You look back at him and your lack of answer in enough for him.

"I'm going to kill them." His body radiates pury fury as he steps away from you and starts walking towards the bathroom door.

"Eris!" You run to step in front of him, blocking the door and putting your hands against his chest, gasping because of the movement causing sudden pain to your waist. Eris immediately wraps an arm around you waist and searches you for any other cause of pain.

"Are you crazy?" You exclaimed.

"No. I'm fucking angry that the people who are your apparent family, who are supposed to protect you, hurt you. And I intent on hurting them just as much."

"Eris, you're going to start a war! And that's not even the point. They didn't hurt me alright, at least not physically. I went on a mission a few days ago and got hurt, they had nothing to do with it. They don't even know I'm hurt, for gods' sake." But that doesn't seem to calm him.

"What do you mean they didn't hurt you physically? And how the hell do they not know you've been hurt since days?" It seems like his rage just amplifies.

"I just didn't tell them alright?"

"They should've checked you for injuries the second you came back from the mission and they didnt care enough to do that. And what kind mission leaves your entire waist fucking open?!" He puts a hand behind your neck.

"Why are you acting like this? Why do you care if they care?" You don't notice you close proximity because you are so shocked from the way he's reacting.

"Because I care about you!" You intake a sharp breath. "What?"

"I care. I care for you. I always have." He looks into your eyes with so much honesty that it leaves you speechless.

"I care for you so deeply. I always have, and I thought you would figure that out yourself because of the way I talk to you. Why do you think I only talk to you. Why take every chance I can have to hear to speak to me, to hear your voice, doesn't matter if you're bitter.

I take every chance I can get to have your attention because I care for you. I do not know why, but I do and im not ashamed of it. I know you don't care for me the same way but I don't care, I'll take every second of your time that you'll give me."

What are you hearing? Someone truly cares for you? This isn't true. It must be a joke. It has to be. This is no way that Eris Vanserra cares for you. He cares for no one. Everybody know that.

So then why are you believing him, believing his words, clinging to them for dear life. If this truly is a prank, if what he is saying wasnt true, you don't think you'll survive. You won't survive another Heartbreak. But something tells you that he isn't lying, that he is telling the truth, that he truly, genuinely cares for you. Something deep in your heart tells you that he might truly love you.

You gasp when you feel it. Feel everything click into place. Feel the second everything in you life finally makes sense.

"You feel it now, don't you?" His voice soft as a tug feels on your heart. Your breath heavy as you look at him in the eyes, feeling the thin golden string connecting your souls to one another.

"So leave them." He pleads.

"Why are you doing this, my love? Who are you doing this for? They don't care about you." His hand on your cheek, swiping back and forth softly while the other hugs your waist, pushing you flush against him. "I do. I care about you so much and I refuse to see you hurt yourself for people who don't value your existence." He puts his forehead to yours.

"Leave them, come with me to Autum Court and I will treat you like the queen you are. And even if you don't want to come with me it's alright, just leave them. Please." His voice cracks with your heart, taking a piece of it with him daring not to return. You don't want him to.

"Okay. I'll come with you." Tears fall down your face as his breaks into a smile. "Really?" His voice unsure.

"Yeah, I'll leave Valaris, leave them. I'll come with you." You smile genuinely after a long time and he sighs in relief.

His lips slam to yours and you both lose yourselves in the kiss. You smile into his lips, finally happy to have found someone who cares for you enough to threaten to go into war for you.

You finally found your person and you will never let him go.

○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●

#acotar #acotar fanfiction #acotar fandom #acotar fluff #acotar angst #eris vanserra #eris x reader #eris acotar #eris x you #eris fanfic #eris angst #eris fluff

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harmonictechnicality · 1 year

Text

Eddie’s Memory Log Day 1:

part 2 here | part 3 here | part 4 here | part 5 here | part 6 here

(ao3 link here)

The only reason Steve volunteers to keep a journal to track Eddie Munson’s skim-milk memories, is because of the twerps.

They have school, they can’t commute to the government-protected hospital that’s all the way in the city. That, and they gave Steve this well-rehearsed, tearjerker performance about how grateful they would be.

About how grateful Eddie would be.

Pfft like shit on a stick, he’ll be grateful. The dude doesn’t even remember how old he is, how the hell is supposed to be grateful for Steve Harrington jotting down notes in binder?

But those kids have been through Spielberg-level disaster shit. Steve has too, but they’re just kids.

So he’ll do it. He’ll do it for them and only them.

Eddie knows his name today.

He’s pissy - he’s always pissy cause Eddie is battered up beyond belief. But still, he’s extra pissy today because Dustin is his favorite visitor and he hasn’t stopped by in almost a week.

Eddie knows Dustin’s name today too.

And guess who’s his least favorite visitor?

“Harrington.” Eddie grumbles, mouth full of lime jello. “Who paid you to be here today?”

Remembers Steve’s name… last name.

“No one.” Steve makes himself comfy in the vinyl armchair. “Call me crazy, but I’m not too big on taking lunch money from sophomores.”

Speaking of which…

“Do you know you know how old you are?”

Eddie crumples the plastic jello container. “You’re a patronizing sack of shit.”

Steve rolls his eyes, starts to write down:

Eddie doesn’t know his age.

“Twenty.”

Eddie does know his age (20).

“Swell.” Steve fakes his amusement. The kids are much better at cheerleading Eddie along in this process. But Steve’s poker face is nonexistent. Sarcasm and assholery occupy every seat in his brain these days.

They go through a few more questions before Eddie begins to get tired. He’s tired a lot, even though the coma knocked him out for almost four months.

Guess holding hands with Death really takes it out of a person.

Eddie doesn’t know his birthday.

But Eddie does remember it’s in the winter (has a memory of seeing leafless trees from an early childhood birthday party).

Eddie remembers his uncle’s name.

Eddie doesn’t remember which street he lives on.

Eddie has a headache (that’s not a memory thing - he’s just told Steve a thousand times now).

“I’ll let you rest.” Steve folds the binder shut, sort of desperate to do anything to get Eddie to stop whining. Seriously, he thought this guy was funnier pre-bat attack.

Eddie doesn’t remember he has a sense of humor.

“You don’t have to stay, you know.” Eddie settles into his pillows.

Steve shrugs, puts his hands behind his head. “I took the bus from Hawkins today. The next one doesn’t leave for another few hours.”

“Still… it’s a city, right? You can go explore or whatever. Be a tourist.”

Yeah Eddie’s persuasive skills aren’t completely back either, it’s all very half-assed.

“Been here before.” Steve lounges deeper into the squeaky chair material. “I’m good.”

“Probably haven’t seen everything is all I’m saying -”

“Do you want me to leave that bad?”

Steve doesn’t shout, but his tone takes up space. Makes the room feel crowded with accusations and cutthroat honesty.

Eddie stares back hard. Sometimes, he doesn’t look like Eddie Munson - he looks like this war victim with knotted-up hair and sulky brown eyes.

Like a John Doe cadaver - tagging his foot with the possibility of Eddie Munson.

Anyways, that’s how he looks right now as he stares at Steve. Barely Eddie.

“Just. I don’t know you.” That’s a shitty ass comeback for someone with a memory-tank that’s perpetually blinking with the low-engine light on.

Eddie continues with his weak argument. “Were we close enough back home that you’d stay here while I sleep?”

Eddie doesn’t remember Steve ignoring him in high school for four years.

Steve finds no reason to lie. “No. We weren’t close at all.”

“Right.” Eddie nods once. “So why do this? What are you getting out of this?”

This is a complicated situation to explain to anyone, let alone to someone with fuzzy comprehension abilities. But Steve gives it a whirl:

“Look, we have mutual friends that are… younger. Dustin’s age. And whether I like it or not, they’re like siblings to me now - I’d do anything for them. But they’re in school, they can’t be here every day like I can.”

“Why can you be here?” Eddie asks.

“I lost my job.”

Eddie attempts sympathy. “Sorry.”

Eh, Steve gives him a B-minus.

“Didn’t like it anyways.” Steve reassure him plainly. “The point, I’m doing this for them. For you too, but they’re the anchors in this.”

Eddie thinks for a moment - readjusts to laying on his side, facing Steve. “Won’t you need a new job eventually?”

“Nah. Trust Fund Baby.” Steve points both thumbs at his chest.

“Yeesh.” Eddie rolls to the other side, away from Steve. Disgusted by his comment, yet still chuckling very quietly.

Okay… Eddie does remember he has a sense of humor (just a teensy bit).

His breathing becomes long and hard - sleep heavy breathing. It doesn’t take long, sleep seems more natural to Eddie right now than being awake.

Steve watches him for a moment. There’s always the ghostly-distant fear that Eddie might stop breathing. He’s done it before - four months ago and once more while he was still at the hospital in Hawkins.

Max is still asleep. Steve hates thinking about that detail because it’s cruel. This twisted game that the universe is playing is truly unjust.

Like an Almighty Asshole rolled Eddie’s stupid dice and decided, ‘I’ll let one of your friends wake up, but he won’t remember that he battled along side you in the trenches of darkness. Take it or leave it, douchebag.’

Steve will take it.

Eddie is still sleeping when Steve decides to head out - the bus will be arriving soon and he’s gotta get a window seat. Needs control over the window cause he gets carsick way too fucking easily these days.

“Heading out?” Eddie mumbles, eyes not even open.

“Yeah - sorry.” Steve doesn’t know why he whispered that. “Didn’t think I should wake you.”

“I gotcha. I’m assuming you’ll be back tomorrow?”

Huh… Steve thinks there might be a hint of implication that Eddie wants him to come back tomorrow. Interesting.

“Your memory isn’t as shitty as you think it is.” He’s overly smug when he says it.

Eddie gives him a closed-lip smile. Only Dustin and Wayne receive those.

“Want me to pick up some food on my way in?” Steve decides to give generosity a try, since Eddie is tolerable enough to give him a smile. “Get you off of this lousy hospital meal-plan temporarily?”

The smile is gone. “Nah, you don’t have to do that.”

Right.

Eddie definitely remembers how to be Stubborn with a capital ‘S’

But Steve is a Trust Fund Baby, so he’s unfazed with difficult behaviors. He can match difficulties all damn day if he wanted to.

Which he does.

“Suit yourself, Munson.” Steve acts so uncaring. Very uppity and douchey. “I’m thinking Chinese takeout for me personally.”

“Cool.”

“Cool. See you tomorrow then.”

There’s a pause, so Steve takes that as his sign to turn the handle, get the hell out of here.

“Steve?” Eddie calls weakly just before he shuts the door behind him.

He cracks it open, peeks his face back in. “Yeah?”

Eddie sighs. “Kung Pao Chicken.”

“Excellent choice.”

Eddie gives him another closed-lip smile.

Steve grins wildly, with all of his teeth. “In fact, I think I’ll do the same.”

And as Steve claims his middle seat on the bus, he pulls the binder back out of his backpack to add one more note for the day:

Eddie remembers that he likes Kung Pao Chicken.

#steddie #steddie fic #steve harrington #eddie munson #post s4 au #trying to decide if I should make this a thing or not #I’m not even sure if this is any good so please ignore if it is incoherent #my mind is being cruel today so if it’s bad pretend it never happened 🙂

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aclockmaker · 1 year

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Part 2 now here

Okay to expand on this I just think: Steve who’s been in a couple of tv shows and is having a moment, famous offscreen for his hair and his charm and onscreen for his ability to find chemistry with anyone (and also, again, his hair).

And Eddie who is a complete unknown; he’s been in some stage productions and had the tiniest bit parts on TV but nobody’s ever, like, recognized him on the street.

Eddie auditions for a new HBO show. When his agent tells him that Steve Harrington is already attached Eddie is like cool, I’ll never get this part but the audition will be good practice so why not. They’re never gonna cast him. He’s sure he’s playing it too weird, and he hasn’t cut his hair (but he will when a part needs him to) but then he gets a callback. Twice.

And then he’s getting called in to do a chemistry test with some of the other actors. The show is like a modern Freaks and Geeks but with a slow burn murder mystery, and Eddie’s actually dead in the main timeline but about half the show is told in flashbacks so it’s a big part. When he meets Steve he doesn’t know what he’s expecting from the paparazzi darling but the guy is super genuine, makes Eddie feel way more comfortable than he has so far. They do their read together and Eddie is just thinking to himself like… damn, this guy really is good, because that felt crazy. He’s acted opposite some insanely talented people but it’s never been that easy. That must just be what it’s like working with Steve.

And now it’s dangerous because he really wants the part. He wants to stop bartending to make rent. He wants to be on this show, because the pages he’s seen are good, and he thinks he could really bring something to it. And because he wants to work with Steve. And even the rest of the cast, too, but—

The day Eddie gets the part he gets a text from a number he doesn't know. Hey man, really looking forward to working with you. And then, a few minutes later, It's Steve btw. He's smiling down at his phone so much that his agent, whose office he's in, is like "What, did you just score another life-changing opportunity I don't know about?" And Eddie is like "Nope, just the one, uh—it's just my uncle saying congrats. Anyway—"

They don't make him cut his hair. They don't tell him to stop playing it so weird. Everything goes so well that it feels fucking hard to believe, in fact, like he's just waiting for the other shoe to drop. There's one group of them playing seniors in high school, the main foursome of which is Eddie, Steve, and their two girl costars, Nancy and Robin. And then there's a younger group playing freshmen whose story intersects with theirs.

His and Steve's characters are set up as opposites, almost rivals, and at least at first, you're presumably supposed to wonder if it's Steve's rich, popular guy who's killed Eddie's character. Nobody in the cast knows the truth yet; the scripts get revealed to them as they're shooting them and they've been told the murderer won't even be revealed in the first season (so here's hoping they get renewed, because Eddie would really like to know who killed him—and he'd also like to keep making HBO money).

Their scenes are some of Eddie's favorites to film (although he also has a soft spot for the kids—especially Dustin who plays a hilarious and awesome nerd who does D&D with Eddie's DM). Eddie hopes his and Steve's stuff is working on whatever level they ultimately need it to work on—sometimes they do get notes that tell them to pull back or dig into something, to emphasize something else, so he has to trust that they're doing the right things.

They often film out of order so when they eventually film the scene where Eddie and Steve's characters have their first run-in at school, it's far from the first time they've shot together. They get all up in each other's faces in the scene, and they've run the lines, done a table read, but acting it out at full intensity is. A lot. Steve's character is mad because he thinks Eddie's character is trying to steal his girlfriend (really she was just buying drugs from him). The way Steve plays it is all simmering intensity, the threat of violence just under the surface, and this is where Eddie doesn't know if he's reading something into it that isn't there. Because for him, there's also another kind of tension between them. And he doesn't know if it's his real life bleeding into the character; if it's just how Steve can't help being with everyone; or if it's a legitimate part of the scripts that they're supposed to be picking up on and exploring. He doesn't even know if anybody else sees what he does. But they do their takes; nobody tells him he's doing something wrong. And after the director calls cut the first time, Steve winks at him. Just to cut the tension, Eddie thinks, maybe to make him smile, which it does. It's fun watching Steve work, watching him slip into and out of character. He's really easy to work with.

Sometimes they get together to run lines or talk motivation or whatever. “It's crazy, you know," Eddie tells Steve in his trailer one night. Steve's is bigger so all of them usually hang out here. They've been making each other laugh, shooting the shit about increasingly funny backstories for their characters, and Eddie feels high with it. "I mean, you know this is my first real show. It's like—" he gestures between them, trying to encompass everything that happens on-camera and all the fun of working on that off-camera. "I didn't know it would be like this."

"Oh—yeah, man," Steve says and laughs a little self-deprecatingly, running a hand through his hair. "But, I mean, for me, I've done a couple and, with our stuff—it’s never been like this with anyone else, either.”

It's going to be so hard, Eddie thinks, looking back at him, to not read into that more than he should.

#steddie #steddie ficlet #steddie fic #actors au #if you have a good idea for their names on the show please speak right up i'm not sure what i'm feeling #would love to connect it to st somehow

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i4oba · 1 month

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haechan as… 💭 / your study buddy ⊹◞✿

haechan as your study buddy sounds like a complete nightmare

I KNOWWWW

but hear me out… Hear!!!!! me out I swear

when he’s determined, he can focus, it just takes … a bit too much in him to do that

not because he’s stupid, he’s super super smart when he’s actually trying

but you know… there are courses that are pain in the ass and you cannot even deny that

and as complete opposites.. you Do care about it, meanwhile he Does NOT give a shit about those

like he couldn’t care less if he failed introduction to philosophy

he doesn’t even know why he has to complete that course. like what’s the fucking point..

FUCK HEGEL???likeee

but you were hella determined to help him out and kind of motivate him

i mean, he wouldn’t mind a little extra cash as a scolarship either ???The least he can do is just sit down and study

that’s how it always have been anyways, ever since middle school

studying together at the library, solving math problems and talking shit in between two of these sessions

the latter part was hyuck’s favourite honestly, he’s such a shittalker fr (i get it, i am too)

he knows basically every gossip… that’s how it always have been! (he knew about the crush jisung had on one of the seniors back in high school and was sooooo into this little affair he singlehandedly ruined his chances… by accidentally spilling it all to the girlie… Oops was all he said too like LMFAO)

he starts and ends all of your uni study sessions with gossips as well honestly

he says it should be a sandwich (or some bullshit idk)–one nasty rumour, some molecular biology and one lighthearted gossip as a way to finish

letting some steam off

he’s not even sorry about it.. at least he has something to look forward to everytime you meet

he’s such a big gossiper it’s actually crazy

and when he gets soooo into it, his voice gets all squeaky and shit lol

him studying journalism doesn’t even help at all, like why is he so fucking interested in this

he says he wants to work at atlantic but… what are the chances? HE SHOULD STUDY

and that’s why you two were there!!! nose should be buried in books!!!!!!!

but his is… well, behind the screen of his phone, going through his instagram dms and showing off other girl’s messages

some extremely cute ones and some embarrassing love confessions as well

you cannot help but laugh when you see someone replying to his thirst trap stories with heart eyed emojis and shit

especially when you can recall how you literally called him a loser in your reply

i mean, you were right after all Lmfao

he knows you’re joking though.. he knows he’s hot as fuck and the most important: he knows that you know

but let’s get back to our main point ???Duh

you were Sat at one of the lesser crowded corners of the campus library, surrounded by a couple of notebooks, one half cup of coffee that has long gone cold, and your laptop–meanwhile hyuck only had one, pretty small notebook he used for every lecture he had, and it had been…

through a lot (as if a dog chewed on it or something but really it’s just that he didn’t care about it)

but anywaaaaays… in the first like, ten minutes he was actually working??? studying his stuff???? Even telling you some fun facts he could remember

like that’s how he is naturally, his method of learning is teaching at the same time as well

which is actually such a useful way imo, that’s how i do as well lmfao

but then you had to avert your attention and do the rest of your research paper to finally finish the project.. it had been ages since you’ve started and you were nowhere near the finish line

so he just.. went on his phone instead. he thrives on attention and when you’re not giving it to him… well YEAAAHHH

he intentionally puts the volume of his phone pretty high so he can annoy you with the sound of him typing and shit

going through tiktok and all

he’s such an asshole for that

but you like the presence of him. it’s soothing kinda that he’s .. there?? clearly not studying but keeping you company

i mean, doing this all alone would be rather depressing, isn’t it? You’re not a big fan of that

so he stays. because he’s aware.

and maybe, with some extra help, he could learn his material.. you just gotta take break more frequent so he can act like as if he was a lecturer ahah

mansplaining and shit ijbol

and at the end??? at the crack of the night??? walking you back to your dorm???? he’s the one offering you two should do this again soon

not tomorrow, he adds–there’s a frat party he’s expected to attend

but after that????He’s excited to do it again :P

#nct dream #nct dream headcanons #nct dream imagines #nct #nct dream fluff #nct dream scenarios #nct dream writings #nct dream stories #nct dream x reader #nct imagines #haechan imagines #haechan #haechan x reader #haechan x you #haechan scenarios #haechan fluff

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thatanimeramenchick · 2 months

Text

Yandere Vox x Secretary Reader Pt. 3/Finale

This is the finale. Ya’ll are not talking me into another one.

Word count: 4,313

Part One - Part Two

---

You had a lot of time to think before you saw Vox again.

Your little spat had kept him from visiting you for about a week and a half, which was fine by you. He was often so busy he only visited you every other day or so even before your blowout. It would have been more than fine by you if you weren’t completely alone that entire time, having nothing to do but live with your depressing thoughts. Thoughts that always led you back to the same dark place at the end of the day.

Despair.

In your heart, you knew there was nothing you could do to get out of the situation. Kick and scream as you would you weren’t leaving. It was only going to be a matter of time before all of his patience evaporated, and he really lost it with you. And while a part of you wanted to hold out that he would give up or die before then, the logical part of your mind knew he would snap way before that happened. You didn’t even want to know what he would do to you then. If you came to some kind of arrangement you could tell yourself you had at least agreed to things on a surface level, even if it had been something you didn’t want to do. So, your mind had been whirling like crazy, trying to come up with a plan of some kind of a proposal that would make you feel like you had at least a little control.

Besides, you had been locked up in here for what, four month? You had turned it over and over and over in your mind. While it was true you might have to wait a small eternity before you found a way out of his arms, it was going to take just as long to get out of here even without the contract. At least with one you’d be able to leave regularly and try to work something out.

By the time he had finally decided to grace you with his presence again, you had worked out a shoddy idea of how you want this to go.

This would be fine. He had accepted your apology well enough, seeming to take a certain pleasure in your partially feigned shame and timidity. You had even managed to wrap your arms around him for a few seconds as you asked for forgiveness. While his initial reaction was to look at you with some surprise, his face has soon changed to one of self-satisfied indulgence, and he had caressed your head with a patronizing touch. How could he remain angry at you when he cared so much for you and you were clearly so sorry for your behavior?

Now that you were actually sitting beside him though, you weren’t sure you actually wanted to go through with the rest of your plan. He was on his phone, no doubt checking something for work. You bounced your legs, crossed at the knee, working up the courage to say what you wanted to.

You cleared your throat.

“Vox? I-I wanted to ask you a question,” you said.

He looked up from his phone.

“If it’s all right, I would like to go out to dinner,” you said, “In an actual restaurant.”

“And I would let you out, why?” he asked.

This was going to be the hard part, forcing yourself to actually say the words.

“If you let me out of here for a little while, I-I’d give you something you want,” you said, “Something you’ve wanted for a while.”

You sucked in a hurried breath, suppressing the urge to shudder.

“It could even be a formal deal,” you said, words rushed together now that you had worked up the courage to say them, “If you take me out for the evening, dinner and a hotel, I’ll let you do whatever you want with me afterwards. I’ll even consider the contract.”

You made yourself look him in the eyes, your body stiff. You forced yourself to smile at him, but with how strained it felt, you didn’t doubt that Vox could see how fake it was. There was only so much you could fake about actually wanting this. Despite your obvious discomfort though, Vox’s looked at you thoughtfully, as if actually considering the proposal.

“Why not just sign the contract now?” he asked, “If you’re serious about being cooperative why hold it out?”

“I want to be sure it’s something I actually want to agree to,” you said, “L-like a test run.”

He smirked, “So you’re saying you want to take the car for a ride before buying it?”

You avert your gaze, feeling your face heat up.

“S-sure, yeah,” you said, “I mean, it only makes sense that I see what it’s like before I commit permanently.”

He was quiet for a minute before a satisfied looked crossed his face.

“All right. What the hell, why not? Let’s make it official then. We agree that, if I take you out to dinner in a real restaurant and then to a hotel, let’s say on Saturday, you’ll do whatever I want that night?” he asked, holding out his hand.

You listened. It was obvious to you that he was using carefully planned out words, as Overlord’s often did in their deals and contracts, making sure that it was clear on both ends what would be expected and fulfilled. A part of you also wanted to make sure he didn’t slip anything in there that would trap you in over your head even more, which was a common tactic with demons.

“… Except make another deal or contract,” you said.

“Except make another deal or contract.”

You supposed that this was as good as it was gonna get. You took his hand hesitantly.

It hurt. It felt like a shock of static had gone through you, a little painful but more annoying than anything. Over as soon as it started. Blue light had near blinded you for a second before dissipating as well. You felt a small tug on your chest somewhere deep inside, probably in your soul somewhere. Not too apparent, but it had been there nonetheless. You rubbed your arms a bit, the lingering spark cooling.

“I trust you’re not going to do anything stupid like trying to run off,” Vox said.

“Do I look like a moron to you?” you said, the words out more resentful than you intended.

“Of course not. But you and I both know you’ve been a bit out of sorts lately,” he said, “Acting irrationally.”

“Couldn’t imagine why,” you said sarcastically

You feel your face contort in fear as the last word hangs in the air and Vox raises an eyebrow at you. Shit. He stares at you blankly for a minute taking a strand of hair in his claws, causing you to flinch. He smirks at that.

“Hmph, well, I suppose you just need some stress relief,” he said, “Which I’ll be more than happy to assist you with very, very soon.”

---

You were filled with apprehension the night of the outing. Your stomach turned as you sat in the restaurant, so stressed from your situation that you had a headache. At least, that’s what you told yourself it was, as the alternative reason was much more unpleasant. Part of you wondered if your nerves were a wreck from your confinement. You hadn’t been out around people in forever. Even if it was a relatively short time period, it was clear that being isolated for so long was having an affect on your mental durability in public. Everything just felt like it was too much. The loud noises of the city and bright lights in the restaurant unnerved you. You just wanted to take a remote and turn down the intensity of the room.

You supposed alcohol made a good substitute for that.

You started pouring yourself another cup, some of the wine spilling onto the table as you overfilled it. Before you could pick it up though, Vox took it.

“Hey, give that back,” you said, unable to grasp it as he held it out of your reach.

“F/N, you’re going to pass out at this rate,” Vox said.

“S-so?” you said.

“So I don’t want to drag a half dead woman around town for people to gawk at,” he said.

You tense as he wraps an arm around your shoulder and pulls you closer to him.

“And… I would prefer it if you actually were awake when we spend time together tonight,” he said.

Well, clearly Vox wasn’t as stupid as you’d been hoping. He never was. You had partially been downing alcohol like it was water in the hopes that you’d be so out of it that whatever gross fantasies he fulfilled with you would be lost in a hazy blur. You didn’t want to remember it when you woke up in the morning.

“… of course,” you said.

“Why don’t you eat some more?” he said, “Try to clear your mind.”

You didn’t really want to though. You liked shrimp, but something about this dish was making you feel nauseous. You weren’t sure if it had gone bad or if you just weren’t in the mood stomach anything knowing what was going through his head. Not wanting to irritate him though, you picked at the dish a little. Damn it, you had done this to have one more night of imagined partial freedom, and you couldn’t even do that. Pathetic.

“I don’t feel well,” you whined, “It’s too loud in here. And the light is hurting my eyes. Can’t someone turn it down?”

“You’re so needy, dearest,” Vox said, but he called your waitress over.

“Dim the lights for us,” he said.

The waitress looked a little nervous.

“What do you not know how to turn down a light?” he asked.

“No! I do! It’ll just be a second!” she said.

She brought over a spare chair and stood on it, trying to reach the light. One of her large horns twisted in the glass beads, getting tangle.

“I know what I’m doing! I promise,” she said, looking panicked.

You weren’t so sure about that as she lost her footing and she swung off the chair, kicking her feet erratically through the air. Not wanting to get smacked in the face you ducked. You wondered if the alcohol had knocked you out and this was just some weird hangover dream.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” Vox yelled.

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry, I just-!”

Before she could finish, the chandelier could no longer take her weight and fell onto the table and floor, shattering into a million pieces, wire torn and dragged out from the ceiling. The electric charge in them was still quite strong though, some of them sparking with a life of their own, twisting and sputtering.

“What the fUuuuUUUUUUUUUuuuuuuuuuuuuuuckkkk-k-k-k?”

Before Vox could move out of the way the wire had made contact with one of the openings on the back of his head, sending him shocking and jolting. His face flew through a hundred different images, colors flying across it as static burst from his head. His entire body jolted as it overflowed with electricity.

“Oh my gosh! I’m so sorry!” the waitress shrieked.

“I-I… c-c-c-ca-a-an’t…” Vox tried to speak, his entire head buzzing at the overload of electricity before he slumped over, knocked out. His screen was all black. As he went out, he fell forward and the wire disconnected. The sparking and burning had stopped, but there was a foul smell in the air, like something was burning.

You watched as your waitress started to panic.

“Oh, shit, shit, shit,” she said, “I’m so, so sorry! L-let me get my boss! We’ll fix this!”

Several other wait staff had walked over, and even some other customers turned their heads at the commotion. This was going to look really bad on the restaurant if they didn’t do something. At some point, you saw the waitress hurrying back, her boss with her. As they neared, more people crowded around the scene.

“Are you ok, ma’am? Are you hurt at all?” a waiter asked, helping you stand and move away from the wires and glass.

“I’m fine,” you mumbled.

It had all happened so fast you barely had time to mentally catch up to what was happening. The waiter walked you over to a nearby empty table, sitting you down.

“Why don’t you just wait here?” he said.

“O-ok, sure…” you said.

You stared at the scene of panicked people for a minute, brain fuzzy, before standing up. No one even glanced in your direction as you started to wander towards the entrance of the building. It wasn’t like people knew who you were or cared, and everyone had seen what had happened. They were all too worried about Hell’s biggest media manager to notice you.

I’m not running away. Of course not. It’s not like there’s anywhere to go anyway.

But your body was telling a different story as it pushed passed the waitstaff to the door. You walked out of the building, shaking a little from your inebriated state. You could do this though. You could walk a straight line. Right, you could do this. It’s not like you were running away. No, you weren’t that stupid. Just taking a little walk. Just one foot in front of the other. Left, right, left, right- Escape. Escape. Now’s your chance. Find a place with no cameras. Don’t let him catch you. Don’t let him find you. Don’t-

Hurk.

No, no, no. This wasn’t the time to get sick. But either you were too stressed or that shrimp really must have gone bad, because there was no holding back what wanted to come out. Before you knew it, you were bent over the public trash can vomiting up the little you had been eating and the fountain of wine you had been drinking.

“You all right, dear?” you heard someone saying

I’m puking over an outdoor trash bin, genius, what do you think?

You hurled for a few more seconds before pausing, coughing a little. You took a deep breath before looking up woozily at the concerned face who was looking down at you. And you really had to look up, not only because you were still learning over the trash can, but because of how tall the person was that you had been talking you. Once you laid eyes on him, you would have gasped if your throat didn’t burn with acid.

“A-Alastor?” you managed to choke out.

“The one and only, darling,” he said, “Glad to know my reputation proceeds me.”

He was taller than you had imagined, and his face disconcerting. While you had seen pictures and drawings, they had not been able to quite capture the eerie cheerfulness that his smile held, so large against his thin frame. A suppressed chill ran through your body at the knowledge that you were talking to your boss’s proclaimed “nemesis.”

“W-what are you doing here?” you said.

“I beg your pardon?” he asked.

“N-no! Sorry, I just… I’ve never seen you in person,” you said, “I never thought I’d… Well, my boss h-hates you.”

While he continues to smile, you can tell by his eyes that he isn’t too impressed by your state. You probably smelled and looked as gross as you felt, half-drunk and wobbly.

“Does he now?” he asked.

“Y-yeah,” you continued, “You know him. The big ass TV demon with the red glowey eyes?”

“Oh, so you’re Vox’s then?” he said.

“No!” you said, a bit too forcefully, “I’m not Vox’s! I’m not anyone’s! I don’t want to be anyone’s.”

He tilts his head a bit.

“Is that so?” he said.

“Yeah, n-not yet at least, not ‘till t-tomorrow,” you murmur, waving your hand in front of your face, “Right now, there’s no contract though. S-so I’m… I’m not anybody’s. Least of all his.”

His eyes soften a bit at that, though there is still a coldness in them that is unmistakable.

“Well then,” he said, after a short silence, “I suppose I should leave you to get back to your evening. Word of advice though, elder to younger, don’t do anything that will lead to any permanent consequences you aren’t willing to fulfill.”

Like I haven’t considered that, asshole. I would literally rather sign a contract with anyone else.

…

Wait a minute. You look at him as he starts to turn away.

“W-wait! Mr. Alastor, sir,” you said, “I have to ask you something.”

The idea was solidifying as he turned to look at you.

“If I sold my soul to someone, no one else could have it, right?” you say, hurriedly, near silent.

“Your soul would no longer be yours, so no. Only the owner could sell it to another person,” he said, looking at you thoughtfully, “But that’s not usually something that people have to worry about.”

That damn smile on his face was really creeping you out. Maybe this wasn’t a good idea sitting in the back of your half drunk mind. But you know what? You didn’t really care. What choice did you have? You were in hell for crying out loud, every path seemed to lead to some kind of shit. But if you weren’t going to get what you wanted, neither was your unrequited admirer. This was Vox’s biggest enemy, right? Nothing would upset him more than knowing that not only would you never belong to him, but you belonged to the man he hated more than anything else.

That was more than enough reason for you.

“I want to sell you my soul,” you said.

He cocked his head thoughtfully.

“You must be in a desperate pinch to want that,” he said, “And what would you like in exchange, my dear?”

You hadn’t even really thought of that. Your only thought at the moment had been to make yourself inaccessible to Vox, and your mind was still kind of hazy. It only made sense you get something out of it though. Something decent. Through the fog, an idea crept into your mind.

“I… I want you to make it where I can’t show up on screens, like you,” you said, “I want to be impossible to capture on film.”

As you said the words you held out your hand.

“We have a deal,” he said.

And with that he clamped onto your hand with his own, the room glowing green with magic. While it pulsed with energy, it was nothing like what you had felt when you had made the deal with Vox. It was a warm flurry that filled you from head to toe. You could feel the sensation of something tightening around your chest, much tighter than when you had made your earlier deal. It crept all the way into your neck before you felt like you were going to choke it was so tight before finally disappearing. A part of you thought you were going to throw up again.

“You going to be all right there?” he asked.

“Y-yeah, I’m f-fine,” you manage, hands on your knees for a second.

Apparently that was a lie, as you literally spill your guts onto the pavement.

“I’ll take that as a no,” Alastor said.

You cough again, straightening. You felt a bit better after that one.

“S-sorry,” you mutter.

“No need to apologize, dearest,” he said, “Now, since we have come to an agreement, I think we should discuss some things.”

“Well, I’m not really-”

“F/N?”

You froze as you heard your name being called. You turned to see Vox walking down the stairs, his face back on. A chill ran through you. That was fast. Someone must have reached into his head and turned a switch to reset him. He looked a bit dazed still, but not enough to be too impaired by it.

“There you are,” he said, “I thought I was going to have to start looking through every camera in this city to find you. What did I tell you... about…”

He glared when he saw who was standing next to you.

“Get the hell away from my employee,” he said, immediately aggressive at the sight of his rival.

Alastor looked at Vox, his eyes holding amusement and his grin turning more mischievous.

“Hm… no, I don’t think so,” he said.

“Excuse me?” Vox said.

“I’m afraid she belongs to me now,” Alastor said.

“I’m sorry, she what?!” Vox’s voice cracking with static.

“Your employee – or should I says ex-employee – has made a binding deal with an Overlord, which means in exchange for a service I provided, she has given me h-”

“I know what a demonic deal is, dickwad!” he yelled.

“Well then, the situation should be perfectly clear to you,” Alastor said. You had no idea how he was able to remain so calm when it was so obvious that Vox was on the verge of exploding, perhaps literally. As severity of the situation dawned on him, he turned his burning, furious eyes on you.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Vox said, “Of all the assholes in hell you choose to bind yourself to other than me, you pick this one?!”

You don’t say anything to him. For a second you look directly at him and tremble at the amount of terrifying wrath you see emanating from his body. Another feeling stirs in your chest though. A sick satisfaction at the fact that he is so upset. After all the control he had deprived you of for the last few months, it felt right to finally put him in a situation where he had zero control over things.

“We already made a deal! You can’t just sell your soul to him!” he yelled.

“Well, apparently, the deal wasn’t strong enough to chain her to you in any way considering she was able to sell her soul to me at all,” said Alastor, “And I don’t know what deals you’ve made previously with her, but if she has failed to fulfill any of them, as the owner of her soul I have the right to forfeit them. If you’d like to discuss what it is she was supposed to give you, perhaps we can work something out. Unless you failed to uphold your end of the bargain?”

He look flustered, but before he could really say anything you murmured, “Y-you only upheld half the bargain. S-so I don’t have anything I owe you.”

Confusion clouded his eyes for a brief second before he seemed to realize what you were talking about.

“Are you really trying to play the damn exact wording game with me?” he said, storming towards you, “You selfish little conniving bitch!”

You yelped as he grabbed your arm, his claws digging into your flesh to the point where you could feel skin beginning to break. Small splurts of blood formed on your flesh. His face was so livid though that you had a feeling that this was the least of your concerns.

“You better enjoy this while it last, because once I’m done with Alastor, I am going to hang his sorry excuse of a deer carcass on my office wall,” he said between gritted teeth, “And you are going to be begging to go back to the previous arrangement we discussed when I finally get my hands on y-”

He stops speaking as a black tentacle smacks him in the face, almost sending him off of his feet.

“That’s quite ungentlemanly of you, Vox,” Alastor said, “Treating a lady like that. And I would appreciate it if you didn’t touch what’s mine.”

Vox had a hand up on his screen, a large crack on the right side of his screen. It reached all the way down from the top down to where his cheek would have been. A small piece of glass was hanging by a wire.

“What the f-?! Ugh!” Vox yelled, “You are going to regret that! Both of you!”

He backed down though. As mad as he was, you both knew it was a losing battle if he tried to fight Alastor one on one right now. One hand trying to hold up the falling piece, he turned to walk away, grumbling under his breath. As he left your line of vision, you leaned against the wall, rubbing your eyes. You even felt yourself tear up a little involuntarily. You had truly thought there wasn’t going to be a way out of this.

“T-Thank y-you,” you said. If you weren’t scared crapless of this guy, you would have gotten on your knees and kissed his feet right there.

“There’s truly no need to thank me for anything,” Alastor said, “You are mine now. It’s in both of our interests that I protect you.”

Not really listening to what he was saying, you nod. It was awkwardly quiet for a minute or two as you wiped at your face, trying to get a hold of yourself. Damn it, you were wasted. Finally you felt like you could talk again.

“I-I guess, I’d better hit the road,” you say.

Though to be honest, you don’t even know where that is at the moment, considering you don’t have any money or job or anything really. Before you can walk off though, Alastor places a hand on your shoulder.

“And where do you think you’re going?” he asked.

“Oh, um… well, I wasn’t- I don’t have to go if you’d rather I didn’t,” you said.

“I should hope not,” he said, “Besides, I’ve already been thinking. There’s a lot of work I have that you can do.”

Well, shit.

I really hope I don’t come to regret this.

#yandere vox #yandere x reader #vox #hazbin hotel

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hybbat · 8 months

Text

One thing I don't like is characterizing Jimmy's canary curse as a fault of his ego/stupid mistakes. He can be and has done those things, but that's not the root of why he loses.

In third life his last death was from a stray arrow that managed to slip through a half block from half a desert away, absolutely a freak accident and crazy shot into a box that was supposed to protect him. Two of his deaths happened back to back in this game, staying completely safe the rest of the time and in both he wasn't the only one.

In last life the man started with two lives and spent the whole game on those two lives! He died in the middle of a big fight where he was not the only one to perma die.

In double life Tango was at fault for the first death, and Jimmy WAS being extra cautious. Even Tango noted how long Jimmy went without dying. And can we acknowledge how incredibly crazy it is that he got knocked off from an arrow that hit him on the BACK of his head? All four were leaned out, and Scar made it out safe, because their attackers were specifically hunting the ranchers based on misunderstanding and bullying. And the enderman death. He was the third to die that way, lasted the longest with the least (on a food run, shield almost dead, no safe trees, abandoned) and that enderman came out of nowhere. That was the purest of bad luck.

And in limited life. Well, there's a lot of deaths, and some of them were silly. But several of his deaths were to Grian and HIS mistakes/malice. He fell off their base the least and his final death was one not even unique to him. The real nail in the coffin was Etho's boogie kill which was never intended to be him but Etho attacked a group after Impulse stole his kill. But the important thing to note is despite all that, Jimmy still died one of if not the fewest times in limited life!

Jimmy's problem isn't making stupid mistakes like Scar. He doesn't make them more often than any other player. He died the fewest times in two seperate series! His problem is his refusal to pvp. He never gets boogieman, he never knocked anyone else down, and when he does end up in group fights he tends to lose or run away. Limited life he got probably the fewest kills besides Tango, and three of them were willingly given to him. He never gained any lives in last life except his brief moment stealing martyn's. Jimmy's biggest problem is that he is too cautious and has zero fighting instinct, he never takes the risks to get ahead, and each time he even thinks of it he's punished for it so who can blame him.

And also Grian. Honestly, mostly Grian.

#the man needs to get away from grian #hes been directly or indirectly at fault for his demise every season #jimmy solidarity #solidaritygaming #3rd life #last life #limited life #double life #what a coincidence the people known for dying are the two closest tied to grian

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lovebugism · 1 year

Note

eddie munson with glasses.

✶ ┄ THE GLASSES DEBACLE !

summary: eddie thinks his glasses are the least metal thing ever. you prove him wrong. pairing: eddie munson / f!reader warnings: a little bit of smut but nothing crazy 18+ mdni! a/n: i don't know if this is a blurb request or not but it's been haunting me. because yeah. i literally haven't been right since joesph quinn wore those stupid glasses and i'm scared that I'll never recover </3

( MASTERLIST )

seeing eddie with his glasses on is a little like spotting a mythical creature in the forest

he never ever wears them

and when he does, it’s because he’s got the trailer to himself with no one around to catch him with them on but wayne

because to eddie, his glasses are the least metal thing in the universe

they’re clear, circular frames with super thick lenses that make his eyes look bigger than normal

he hates them

and he’d rather walk through the world half-blind and suffer the headaches than wear them in public

because he doesn’t want to hear shit from the rest of hellfire and there’s no way jason carver would ever shut up abt it if he saw them

but you seeing him in them might be the worst

he takes pride in being the freak-show-outcast-metalhead-bad-boy boyfriend

and he’s scared of losing cool points with you

which is dumb because you two are so head over heels for each other that him wearing his stupid glasses doesn't matter

but he still feels the need to impress you

he does a pretty good job at keeping them hidden at first

then you find them in the drawer of his nightstand while looking for condoms

both of you made a pretty hasty attempt to get naked

eddie’s only got his underwear on with the hem of them tucked under his balls

and you’ve still got his shirt on with your panties slid to the side

you’re straddling his lap and leaning over to grab a rubber

then you spot them

“i didn’t know you wore glasses!!”

“that’s because i didn’t want you to”

“but why :(”

you slip them on over your own face and they your eyes bug out a little

you have to blink a couple times to get used to everything being so much closer

meanwhile eddie’s just kinda beaming to himself

because you’re the prettiest thing he’s ever seen

like the cutest little bug <3

then you try to slip them over his face and he’s dodging you

because “they’re not sexy on him"

and you’re just like “i’ll be the judge of that >:(”

to make a long fucking story short

you end up fucking him in his glasses to prove that they are, in fact, sexy as fuck

they slid down his face the entire time so you had to keep pushing them back up the bridge of his nose

after, like, the fourth time, he got fed up with them and tried to take them off

but you grabbed his wrist to stop him

right before coming so hard over his lap that you’re twitching against his thighs

and he wasn’t too far behind you

needless to say, he starts wearing them a whole lot more

only around you ofc

i’m just picturing a very sickly, sweet domestic affair

you’re lying on his bed, naked with the sheets wrapped around you, propped up against his headboard with a book in your lap

and he’s lying just below you with his back against the bed

with his hair is tied back because.. yeah

and he’s got his glasses on while he scribbles in an old composition journal

trying to come up with a new dnd campaign

he’s only wearing a pair of boxers so his slutty little waist is on display

and he’s doing that cute little thign with tongue because he’s so concentrated

when his eyes get tired after staring at them for so long, he’ll rub at them with a scrunched face from underneath his glasses

and every once and a while, you’ll hear him huff and then a riiip when he tears the page out of his notebook when he gets frustrated

you won’t say anything

you’ll just reach a hand down to scratch gently at his scalp to soothe him

or you'll rest your palm against his chest and the small bits of hair scattered there to feel his heart beating

now i’m just sad

#eddie munson x reader #stranger things x reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson imagine #stranger things imagine #eddie munson #stranger things #eddie spaghetti hc #published by bug #st headcanons

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ladykailitha · 2 months

Text

The Harrington Pattern Part 7

Hello! It's Tuesday and that means more Steve and Eddie. And it's looking like the story will end in chapter 12. It might take one more than that, but it's definitely almost done.

So what will that mean? Well, I'll start working on working on another story to bring it back up to two, but will still only work on the others on WIP Wednesday because I'm trying to get down the amount of WIPs I have running. I have far too many.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6

Day two of the Fair. Will sees Steve and Steve reveals a little trick. And Steve has to be stern mom again.

@mira-jadeamethyst @rozzieroos @redfreckledwolf @emly03 @itsall-taken

****

Steve picked up his usual set and went to the Renaissance Fair. This time they were the first to arrive and they stood there waiting for the rest of them to show up.

He had left the spirit gum with Mrs Sinclair and she was able to do an even better job then he had yesterday putting the ears back on.

The bow and quiver had been left behind today because sadly the poor bow had been a mangled, tangled mess by the time they left the fair yesterday.

Max and Robin’s cutlasses had fared better because they never left their sides, but even slung over Lucas’s shoulder, the poor aluminum just couldn’t bare the brunt of the crowds. And today was going to be even busier.

Steve looked at his watch and then back at the growing crowd waiting in line.

He tapped his foot nervously when he saw the familiar van pull into the lot. And the merry band of fellows hopped out, wearing the outfits they had yesterday. The ones that made Steve green with envy on how well they were put together.

It was like they had just walked off the set of a Hollywood movie.

He was good with a needle and thread, but whoever made their costumes should be making money off it, they were that talented.

Jeff came around to the other side of the van where Steve could see him and his ears looked great too.

“Looking good, Lawrence,” Steve whistled. “The ears are vastly improved.”

Jeff bowed dramatically. “Why thank you, my liege! I had my sister help me pick out the right color and type I needed and then I did it myself.”

Gareth snorted. “After practicing all night.”

Brian elbowed their youngest member. “It’s just like trying to get a beat right, you have to practice. Don’t give him shit for that.”

Gareth grumbled, but muttered a half-hearted apology to Jeff. The older teen just grinned at his friend.

Which after how crazy yesterday was, Steve wasn’t looking forward to a repeat if Jeff took offense to Gareth’s comment.

Eddie had been unusually quiet during this conversation, so while they milled around waiting for the remaining third of their group, Steve came up to him.

“Hey, you okay?” he asked, leaning down and forward to get a better look at the metalhead.

Eddie pursed his lips, but he nodded.

“You know, I have been dying to ask...”

Eddie smiled softly. “Who’s my tailor?”

Steve cackled. “Yeah, that. God, I would gleefully sacrifice one of the teenagers for the material alone, let alone the thread.”

“Which one?” Eddie asked, coming a little bit more out of his shell.

Steve reared back his head. “What?”

“Which one of the teenagers you would sacrifice?” Eddie asked again.

“Dustin,” Steve said without hesitation. “I figure virgin,” he counted on his fingers, “check, most annoying, check, and the one who would be the biggest... ‘value’ as it were, double check.”

Eddie laughed outright. “You don’t have to sacrifice any of them. Brian’s sister works at a big theater, the kind that do plays, as their costumer.”

Steve sighed and rubbed a bit of the black velvet between his thumb and forefinger. “You guys are so lucky.”

Eddie laughed again. “Trust me, even Bri had to pay for the privilege.”

Steve’s eyes lit up. “Oh?”

“Yup!” Eddie said, rocking back on his heels. “We had to pay for all the material and patterns ourselves, plus at least twenty-five percent of labor. These duds may be pretty, but lo they be also pricey.”

“Well, it was certainly worth it,” Steve murmured. “You guys look fantastic.”

Eddie’s cheeks colored a pretty pink. “Thanks. Um...mine is actually based on a character from a short story. Brian’s mom is Polish, but she loves sc-fi and fantasy so she gets this magazine, right?” Steve nodded. “So, anyway she’ll translate into English for Brian to read. It’s about this male witch and he has this minstrel friend named Jeskier...” he pronounced it strange, like yes-keer. “I’m probably pronouncing it wrong. But he’s so cool.”

“So you’re this minstrel guy?” Steve asked, suddenly understanding.

Eddie hummed excitedly. “Brian even went as one of the male witches. Not the main one though. But it’s still fun, you know?”

Steve smiled back. “Yeah. I never would have thought about going as a specific character before. Maybe we can plan something for next year.”

Whatever cloud leftover that was lingering over Eddie vanished in the light of Steve’s bright smile.

Eddie bumped his shoulder into Steve’s. “What’s on the docket today, pretty boy?”

Steve blushed bright red, but before he could answer, Claudia’s station wagon pulled up next to them. The four kids piled out, happily chatting and laughing. Well all but Mike.

Mike had always been a reserved kid, but as he got older, the more withdrawn he seemed to get. Will seemed to do the opposite. The kid was really coming out of his shell and into himself. And maybe that was the reason for Mike’s shrinking back.

Steve just shook his head and turned to Will. “Still no Jonathan?” he teased.

Will rolled his eyes. “He said and I quote ‘I’ll see about maybe Saturday’.”

Steve winced. He couldn’t make Jonathan come, but he could see how much Jonathan coming would mean so much to Will and it made his heart hurt just a little.

“Can’t force someone to have fun,” he said with a shrug. “It really is his loss.”

Will nodded sagely, like the mature person he was forced to become far too soon. “But! He did give me the ten dollars I needed for the staff to make up for it.”

Steve smiled. All right, maybe Steve didn’t have to stop by and give the elder Byers boy a piece of his mind.

He turned to Eddie. “Hey, you want to traverse the fields of commerce with me and Will to go get his staff?”

Eddie grinned. “Hell yeah! I didn’t get to go yesterday.”

Will grinned back. He turned to El and Mike. “You going to come with me. right?”

Mike shook his head. “El wanted to see the weavers this morning, but no one else wanted to go with her and with Steve’s dumb rule...”

“It’s not dumb,” Steve said. “Just because the Upside Down is gone, doesn’t mean there aren’t things that can hurt you.”

“We’re fifteen,” Mike protested. “I think that’s old enough to go by ourselves.”

Steve looked around at the other kids and they were all looking everywhere but at him. “May I remind you that we are literally standing on the ground where human monsters were trying to open a gate? Bad guys come in all shapes and sizes and even if you think you’re safe, is El? Or Will?”

The kids looked down at their feet and mumbled their apologies.

“I just want everyone safe and having a good time,” Steve finished. “You guys can do whatever you want, but do you know who your parents would blame if something happened to you?”

Dustin raised his head sharply. “But there are other adults here, why would they blame you?”

Steve barked out a bitter laugh. “Because I’m the fucking babysitter.” He walked off to get in line and everyone just followed behind quietly, suddenly somber.

Robin fell in step next to Steve and wrapped her arm around his shoulder. “Hey, dingus.”

Steve just ducked his head.

“It’s just a tricky age. You remember what it was like at their age,” she murmured.

“I was getting drunk every weekend, smoking, and having sex,” Steve grumbled. “I don’t want that for them.”

Robin kissed his cheek. “You’re sweet. But they’re going to have to figure it out on their own.”

Steve’s shoulders rounded. “I just want to them to have fun and we keep having knock out drag out fights before we go in and I–” he left out a deep sigh.

“You can’t be held responsible for what they do,” she said.

He snorted. “Tell that to Joyce or Claudia. Just because I’m the oldest.”

She hugged him tightly. “You’re not anymore and you know Eddie would do anything for those kids, too. Plus, this is exactly why you told them to find any adult. Let all of us help shoulder the load, too.”

Steve let out a low shuddering breath. “I’ll try. I just keep butting heads with Mike. Always Mike. And I don’t know what to do, he’s just so prickly and even outright hostile.”

“So don’t do anything,” Robin suggested.

He frowned. “What do you mean?”

“Let Eddie handle it,” she said. “He did a fine job yesterday. So let him do it again.”

Steve pressed his lips together and then nodded. “Okay.”

She kissed his cheek again and went back to talk to Eddie. Steve paid again for the tickets. Well, not all of them. Thankfully Eddie and his friends were paying their own way.

He turned to Will. “You ready to go get your staff?” He smiled broadly to hide the hurt of Mike’s rebellion.

Will smiled back. “Hell yeah!”

Eddie came bounding up to them. “I’ll meet you at the shop, there’s something I need to do really quick about tomorrow. They’ve messed up the schedule and me and Jeff have to go see someone about it.”

Steve nodded. “Yeah, just ask Jeff where the shop is, he should remember which one.”

Eddie smiled again. “You betcha, big boy.” He flounced back to Jeff and Steve watched him walk away.

When he turned back to Will, the young man was looking at him with curiosity.

“What’s up?”

Will furrowed his brows. “I’m trying to decide if you know about...” he pursed his lips trying to find a way to say what he meant without outing Steve in public. “What you feel about a certain someone?”

Steve looked back at where Eddie had melted into the crowd and then back at this all too perceptive boy. He put his arm around Will and started them walking toward the shop.

“If you’re asking what I think you’re asking,” Steve started slowly, “I’ve known I like both for awhile now. It was just easier to focus on the one. The one that was socially acceptable, you know?”

Will nodded. “I can see that. And then he came barreling into our lives and a good kind of upside down happened?”

Steve smiled fondly. “Yeah. He is so sweet. He’s everything I thought I wanted in Nancy.”

Will grinned. “You do have a type.”

He scuffed Will’s hair a bit. “Yeah, yeah.”

They walked in silence for awhile before Steve spoke up again.

“I feel I should give you a heads up before we get to the shop,” he said with a wince.

Will looked over at him in confusion.

“I may have talked the merchant in to holding it for you by giving them a ten dollar deposit to hold it.”

Will’s jaw dropped. “You can do that?”

Steve laughed. “No, not really. By I can be persuasive and he was willing to do me the favor.”

“Thanks, Steve,” Will murmured. “You’ve done so much for us, I think we take you for granted sometimes.”

Steve half shrugged. “My parents suck and while some of you have actually decent parents and older siblings, I don’t mind being the babysitter the one you guys look up to and come to for advice.”

Will smiled. “Any tips on how to tell your best friend you have a crush on them?”

Steve threw back his head and laughed. “Look, the one time I did that I was drugged up on truth serum and literally couldn’t lie. I don’t think that’s going to help you.”

“Too bad Robin bats for the other team,” he said with a smile.

Steve smiled back. “Nah, I think her telling me that is what made it easier for me to realize that having those feelings can’t make you a bad person. Not when she was so amazing.”

Will cocked his head to the side. “That’s fair.”

“Come on you,” Steve said, “let’s go get you this wizard staff.”

Will stopped in his tracks. “You said it right. You never say the DnD terms right.”

Steve raised a finger up to his lips and winked. “I do it because it drives Dustin up the wall and Eddie just loves explaining it to me, so I kill two birds with one stone.”

Will laughed. “Yeah, okay.”

As they wove their way through the crowd, Will smiled to himself. Steve and Eddie both liked boys, knew they liked boys, and were still unapologetically themselves. And maybe he could be too.

But first, he was going to get that wicked staff he saw yesterday because he had two brothers looking out for him. His biological one and Steve. Someone who cared so deeply that even when he should have walked away, he stayed.

And Will always could use more people that just...stayed.

****

Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13

For those that don't know "The Witcher" was an original short story in a Polish sci-fi/magazine in 1985. I couldn't figure out if Jeskier was in the original tale, so shush if he isn't.

Tag List: @spectrum-spectre @estrellami-1 @zerokrox-blog @gregre369 @a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @messrs-weasley @chaoticlovingdreamer @maya-custodios-dionach @danili666 @goodolefashionedloverboi @val-from-lawrence @i-must-potato @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog @justforthedead89 @vecnuthy @irregular-child @bookbinderbitch @bookworm0690 @anne-bennett-cosplayer @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1 @littlewildflowerkitten @genderless-spoon @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @dragonmama76 @scheodingers-muppet @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt @useless-nb-bisexual @thespaceantwhowrites @paintgonewrong @mogami13 @beelze-the-bubkiss @croatoan-like-its-hot @retro-vagabond @sani-86 @pansexuality-activated @y4r3luv @dauntlessdiva @vampire-eddie-brain-rot

#my writing #stranger things #steddie #ladykailtiha writes #steve is a history nerd

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jahayla-parker · 10 months

Text

Crazed : Tom Holland x Reader

Descr: 8k wc, A crazed fan breaks into Tom's house when his girlfriend is home and she has to defend herself until Tom's security gets there.

Warnings: curse words, violence, stalker/crazy fan behavior, hostage situation, threats, danger, mentions of a break-in, (minor) injuries, hospital (brief), knife/blade, keys used as weapon.

Y/n rubbed her boyfriend Tom’s shoulders as he pinched the bridge of his nose. She knew he was stressing out over the recent safety concerns that had arisen for the couple. Y/n knew that Tom would handle it; even before the multiple promises he made to do so. But, she still wanted to wipe the frown off his face as he called his security team.

They had recently been made aware that there was an… overzealous fan of Tom’s that posed a risk to the couple’s safety. Tom’s brother and personal assistant Harry, had noticed someone was following them one afternoon. They contacted Tom’s security team immediately and had them look into it.

Allegedly, when the security personnel asked the fan to stop following the couple, things escalated. The fan had made numerous comments that concerned Tom’s security. The first was the fan’s statement on how they were Tom’s one true love; not y/n. The second was when the same fan commented that y/n needed to learn her place and stay away from Tom. Then of course came the standard stalkerish fan remarks such as claiming she knew where the couple had been at any given moment, that she had a shrine of Tom with photos that no one else had seen as she’d taken them herself, and that she was in love with Tom and knew he’d come around and choose her.

It wasn’t like Tom had no former experience with overzealous fans. But this was on a whole other level. The fact that this fan made his own security concerned for y/n, made Tom panic. Between his team's and his own suggestions, Tom had ensured that they always had at least two security guards with them.

Tom felt guilty for having to limit their privacy even more than normal when going on dates, or whenever they simply left the house. But, he refused to let something happen to y/n. Which was why he had to call his security team again today.

Earlier today Y/n had gotten a call from an unknown number. She always ignored calls from unknown numbers. As such, y/n had let the call go to voicemail. However, when she checked her voicemail, y/n felt the same panic Tom had been experiencing.

The fan who Tom had been worried about for several weeks by then had somehow found y/n’s personal phone number. Y/n knew it wasn’t super rare for celebrities and their friends and family to have their personal information leaked. But, the message that the fan left was very troubling.

The girl had threatened to harm y/n if she didn’t break up with Tom. She even went so far as to show she had the address of y/n’s work; as ‘proof to take her seriously’. The fan also had the address of y/n’s last residence. Y/n and Tom began living together months ago. But, technically y/n’s old apartment was still in her name as the lease wasn’t up for another month and a half.

When y/n told Tom about the voicemail, he immediately asked her to play it for him. His fury and fear skyrocketed as he heard the passion behind the fan’s voice. He couldn’t believe this was happening to begin with, much less to this extent. Tom was adamant something had to be done, starting with calling his security and demanding increased protection for y/n.

“We need to increase y/n’s security,” Tom ordered immediately upon his lead security officer answering his call. He felt y/n rest her head on his shoulder, rubbing his arm to try and calm him. Tom crooked his neck and placed a soft kiss to y/n’s head as he listened to his security guard’s response.

“No, you don’t understand,” Tom groaned, standing up from the couch. He began pacing their living room as he tried to keep himself in check. He couldn’t understand why his security wasn’t just listening to him. Y/n needed more security, immediately. “I’m going to send you something,” Tom said, pulling the phone from his ear just long enough to forward the threatening voicemail.

“Tommy,” y/n whispered as Tom put the phone back up to his ear as he waited on a response. She smiled warmly at him when he looked her way. Y/n wrapped her arms around his shoulders, “breathe please”.

Tom nodded in response to y/n’s request. He took a few deep breaths as he faintly heard the voicemail being played in the background. Tom hummed as he heard his security guard call for another officer to look into the voicemail. “See?” Tom asked in frustration, “she needs more security”.

Y/n watched as Tom nodded along to whatever his security was suggesting. She sighed in relief at seeing his lessening worry. She didn’t know what they were telling Tom, but it was helping. Y/n kissed Tom’s neck right under his earlobe as she waited for him to end the call and update her.

“Tom, look, I know you’re worried, but-” y/n sighed. Tom wanted her to not go in to work today. To be fair, it was a suggestion from his security when he called them last night, but Tom jumped on board with the idea without hesitation.

Tom frowned. “You’re not going to stay home?” He asked, his voice sad and eyes worried. “Please?” Tom requested, squeezing y/n’s hand.

Y/n pursed her lips. “I have work, T,” she argued softly.

“I know,” Tom agreed. “And I’m sorry, I dragged you into this -".

Y/n shook her head, “no. This isn’t on you Tom. I’ve told you that”. She sighed, “but, that doesn’t mean I can just stay stuck at home all day every day until this...overzealous fan chills out”.

“Overzealous?!” Tom huffed. “Darling, she’s bloody crazy!” He exclaimed. “This isn’t some slightly obsessed fan, she’s insane and she wants to hurt you.”

Y/n bit her lip and nodded. He was right. The voicemail had truly scared her. And she knew Tom knew that. Even if he hadn’t already been protective before, he certainly would’ve become so upon seeing how much it freaked her out.

“Just for today?” Tom pleaded. “I’m already working on a more long-term solution,” he assured her.

Y/n sighed softly as she thought it over. She didn’t have a ton to do at work today, so perhaps it wouldn’t be the end of the world. “Okay, if it will make you happy, I’ll stay home today,” she accepted.

Tom grinned and pulled y/n in for a tight hug. “Thank you, thank you, thank you,” he gushed. “I know it’s not ideal, but I’ll try to come home for lunch, and-" Tom rambled.

Y/n giggled. She rubbed Tom’s chest as she leaned back. “Handsome, you don’t need to do that,” she smiled. “Just focus on your scenes and rest between them, we both know you haven’t been doing that much. Hmm?”.

Tom nodded, he’d been spending most of his time between takes and scenes getting on his security about finding out who this crazy fan was and doing whatever was needed to stop them. “Okay, but,” he replied, smiling, “I’m still going to call during my lunch and check-up”.

Y/n hummed lovingly, stroking Tom’s cheeks tenderly. “You have a deal, sweetheart.”

“Okay, so, you’ll arm the security system after I leave?” Tom asked y/n.

Y/n nodded, “yes”.

“And, you have Jones’s number saved, right?” Tom wondered as he mentally made his way through his checklist. Jones was one of his security guards and Tom had requested that he be on call nearby in case something happened. Or if y/n simply felt scared that it could/would.

“Saved and set as a favorite for easy access,” y/n promised. She neared her boyfriend and set her hands on his shoulders. “Everything is in place honey.”

Tom took a shaky breath and nodded. He really didn’t want to leave her alone, but he had to go to set. He was nearly done with filming and then they’d be able to go wherever. Y/n had reminded him of that when he considered taking the day off. The sooner he was done, the sooner they could go back to Europe -for at least as long as it took until the fan was taken care of.

That didn’t mean he wasn’t anxious about y/n being home alone. But, at his security pointed out, the fan had given the address for y/n’s old apartment, her job, and has been seen on set before. This was the safest place for her. As far as they are aware, there was no reason to believe the fan has knowledge of this apartment nor that y/n and Tom even lived together.

“I’m just…” Tom sighed. He knew he was going overboard in his preparations. But he couldn’t help it, he needed to know y/n would be safe.

Y/n gave Tom a quick kiss. “Worried, sweet, adorable, I know,” she grinned. “But you’re also about to be late,” y/n giggled playfully. “So, go, get there safely, kick ass on your scenes, and we’ll talk at lunch?”

Tom smiled and nodded, holding y/n to his chest for another hug. “Alright love, I’ll call you soon. I love you.”

“I love you too,” y/n said. She pulled back from the hug and kissed Tom’s forehead. “Let me know when you get to set,” she added as Tom made his way to his car. Y/n waved goodbye before she closed the door.

Y/n quickly armed the security system. She sighed to herself before looking around as she tried to decide what to do on her unplanned day off. Y/n walked to the bedroom to change into pajamas and grab some large and comfortable blankets.

When y/n returned to the living room, she found Tom had texted her saying he’d made it to set. She smiled and sent a quick reply before settling herself on their couch. Y/n flicked the television on and scrolled through their digital movies until she landed on Uncharted. She smirked to herself and sent a photo of her movie choice to Tom before she pressed play and relaxed under her blankets.

“You okay?” Harry asked, squinting at his brother. “You seem tense and you keep saying the wrong lines,” he pointed out. Harry was not just Tom’s brother but also his personal assistant and therefore it was his job to see to whatever was bothering him. “What’s going on?”

Tom sighed and ran a hand down his face, wincing as he realized he realized he’d just messed up the makeup the crew put on him. “It’s just…” he mumbled, looking around the set before pulling his brother to the side. “You know that crazy fan?” He asked. When Harry nodded, Tom continued. “Well, they get y/n’s number and left her a threatening message”.

Harry’s eyes widened. “Is she okay?” He asked.

“Yeah, I mean, she was when I left. And, Jones hasn’t reached out to say that’s changed… But, I just…. It’s hard to clear my mind and focus,” Tom admitted.

“I get that mate, but you can’t know what’s going on if you don’t ask,” Harry said. “So, instead of stressing for likely no reason, why don’t you text her between scenes and see what she’s up to?“ he suggested.

Tom smiled and hugged his brother. “That’s a great idea mate, thank you!” He held out his hand and waited for Harry to pass him his phone.

Harry chuckled and quickly took Tom’s phone from his pocket. “Here ya are,” he said with a playful eye roll.

“Oh,” Tom chuckled. He felt his cheeks flush as he looked at the last message from his girlfriend.

“Ewww, if that’s a sext, you need to get better at hiding your reaction,” Harry groaned.

Tom glared at Harry as he shook his head. “No!” He scolded. “Apparently she’s having a movie day…” Tom mumbled bashfully.

“Okay? And…?” Harry questioned.

Tom tilted his phone so Harry could see the text thread. His blush darkened as his brother laughed and shook his head at y/n's choice of movies for the day.

“You two are gross,” Harry teased. “Ready to try this scene again now?” He asked, trying to guide Tom back to set.

Tom smiled to himself. He quickly replied to y/n’s text and passed his phone back to Harry. “Yeah, I am now,” Tom nodded.

Y/n yawned as she rose from the floor. She’d made a blanket fort earlier to watch movies in. But now, her legs were numb and tingly from the position she’d been in. Y/n tiredly made her way to the kitchen for some snacks. While she hadn’t done much today, she was exhausted. It seemed doing nothing let her body realize how tired she’d been lately.

Y/n groaned lightly upon seeing that Tom had left a nearly empty milk carton in the fridge. She had just gotten groceries, not knowing they needed milk since the n carton was still in the fridge. Y/n made a mental note to get more milk tomorrow, or tonight after Tom got home from set. She poured the last of it in her cereal bowl before going to throw the carton away.

Only, as she went to place the carton in the garbage, y/n noticed it was full. She quickly calculated what day it was and realized it was garbage day. Y/n decided to go put on some slippers so she could take the garbage out.

Y/n returned to the kitchen and tied the trash bag closed. She smiled to herself knowing Tom wouldn’t have to deal with taking the bag out tonight when he got home and instead could relax. It was the least she could do since she knew he was worrying about her more than usual today.

Y/n disarmed the security system so that her opening the back door wouldn’t trip the alarm. That was the last thing Tom needed while trying to focus on his job. She was careful though to shut the door behind her and lock it so no one could enter while she was walking to the alley to dispose of the bag. Y/n figured it was overkill, but she knew Tom would be happier knowing she’d done it.

Y/n was sure to be quick with throwing the bag in the can outside. She smiled when she noticed their neighbors’ cans hadn’t been picked up yet; she hadn’t missed pickup. Y/n cautiously looked around before walking back to her apartment.

Y/n felt some anxiety as she unlocked her back door, feeling like someone could sneak up behind her. As a result, she quickly rushed inside and locked it again. Y/n let out a sigh and decided to refocus on her movie day, designating it as a seemingly needed distraction. She grabbed her bowl of sugary cereal with little milk and headed back to her blanket fort in the living room.

Y/n paused the movie, having thought she heard something in the kitchen. She peered into the kitchen doorway from her seat and didn’t see anything. Y/n wanted to go back to her movie, but her gut told her something wasn’t right.

Y/n elected it was safest to fully check on the sound she thought she heard. So, she grabbed her phone, pulling up the favorites section of her contacts as she anxiously made her way to the kitchen. She stopped halfway there, realizing she didn’t have anything to protect herself with. Unfortunately, her ideal choice of weapon would be found in the kitchen. Y/n settled for her keys, holding them in her other hand as she resumed her quest to find the source of the sound she’d heard.

A gasp escaped y/n’s mouth as she entered the kitchen. There was a pile of broken glass underneath the back door on the far side of the room. Y/n didn’t see anyone in the room but knew this wasn’t a good sign. She hadn’t been wrong about having heard a sound, nor about the need to check on it. And, considering the broken glass had come not too long after the voicemail incident, y/n was worried they were related.

Y/n didn’t want to take her eyes off the kitchen in case someone appeared, but she suspected she should call Jones. She blindly tried to pull up his number as she stared at the back door. Y/n cautiously walked towards the knife block, hoping to grab a better weapon than her keys. Except, before y/n could get to even the halfway point, someone’s hand reached in through the broken glass on the door and unlocked the handle.

Y/n looked around for an alternative weapon since she was too far from the knife block. But, she quickly ran out of time as the person had flung the door open and entered her apartment. Y/n’s eyes widened and she began to step back. She wanted to run but she didn’t want to aggravate the girl before her. Plus, the safest way to run would be to run outside, but the girl was blocking that door.

The intruder was wearing a homemade Tom Holland shirt, making it even more obvious she was the stalkerish fan. The girl’s hair and makeup was overly done up, as if she was going out on a date or to an event. She was glaring aggressively at y/n as she walked further into the kitchen.

Once y/n sensed she’d backed up enough to make it to the doorway to the living room, she turned and bolted from the kitchen. She scolded herself as she realized her blanket fort in the living room now provided a large obstacle, blocking her from easy access to the front door. Before y/n could decide if she could crash through the mess of blankets and furniture supporting them, she heard the fan’s loud footsteps running after her.

Y/n sharply turned the corner and started to the stairs. She looked down at her phone as she ran, clicking on Jones’ contact. Just as y/n’s finger went to press call, she felt a hand on her ankle. She screeched as she tugged her foot away and tried to stumble up the rest of the stairs.

Y/n kept running up the stairs as the fan angrily screamed her name. She once again tried to call Jones, only this time she tripped on one of Tom’s shoes that had been left on the staircase. In her attempt to not lose her balance and fall down the steps, y/n used her hand to push herself back up. Only, this caused her phone to slip from her hands and tumble down the stairs. Y/n fell to the ground as she turned to grab the device. Except, she wasn’t quick enough.

Y/n silently watched in terror as her lifeline bounced past the crazed fan on the stairs. She froze as she saw the glint of the knife the fan had in her hand. Y/n swallowed thickly and decided her best bet was to try and lock herself in the bathroom and scream; hoping the neighbors would hear and call the police. She quickly stood back up and turned around. “HELP!” Y/n shouted, hoping by chance a window was open.

“I just want to talk!” The fan replied, bouncing up the steps after y/n.

“GET AWAY FROM ME!” Y/n yelled back, finally mounting the stairs. She rushed towards the bathroom at the end of the hall. A painful scratch on the back of her right shoulder caused y/n to stop. Y/n knew instantly from the way there were four simultaneous scratches that the fan had used her acrylic nails to scrape at y/n.

Y/n hissed in pain and spun around to try and fight off the fan. She fortunately still had her keys in her fist. As such, she lunged forward and dug them against the fan’s face. Y/n used the fan’s shock to turn and run the rest of the way to the bathroom.

As y/n tried to shut the bathroom door, she was blocked by the fan’s foot. “LEAVE ME ALONE!” she shouted, trying to shove the girl’s foot out of the way. “I DIDN’T DO ANYTHING TO YOU!”

“JUST LET ME TALK!” The fan argued, pushing against the bathroom door.

“I DON’T WANT TO TALK!” Y/n groaned. “WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU!” she asked, slamming the door repeatedly against the fan’s leg as the girl banged on the other side of the bathroom door.

“YOU STOLE MY ONE TRUE LOVE!” the fan screamed, the knife stabbing the door.

Y/n flinched backward as the knife sliced into the thin wooden door separating her from the crazy fan. During y/n’s brief reaction, the fan shoved the door open. Y/n fell backward onto the ground. She shouted again in desperation, praying someone heard her.

The fan stood over y/n with a furious expression. “YOU. STOLE. TOM. FROM. ME.” She seethed, leaning closer to y/n as she was flat on her back against the bathroom floor.

Y/n lifted her arms over her head to shield her face. “GO AWAY!” she shouted, kicking at the fan. Y/n gasped as the fan grabbed ahold of y/n’s hair. She used her keys to scratch the fan’s arm of the hand she was holding y/n with.

“STOP FIGHTING ME!” The fan complained, tugging on y/n’s hair. She used her other hand to try and pry the keys from y/n’s hand.

Y/n stared at the fan in bewilderment. “YOU’RE FUCKING CRAZY!” She cried, continuing her kicking and scratching. Y/n faintly heard her phone ringing from the other room. She silently pleaded with the universe for it to be Tom checking on her. If it was, she knew he’d send security over if she didn’t answer.

The crazed fan continued to fight with y/n until y/n spat at her in an attempt to get the girl to back up enough for y/n to get off the floor. The fan glared and hissed at y/n. “THAT’S IT!” She shouted, grabbing the knife from where she’d set it on the bathroom counter; out of reach from y/n. She dropped to her knees and placed the blade against y/n’s throat.

Y/n gulped as terror shot though every fiber of her being. She could keep using her keys, especially now that the girl was close enough for y/n to jab them into her eyes. Only, the knife against her throat made y/n worry the fan wouldn’t hesitate to push the blade into her as a response to such an attempt.

“Drop it, or I’ll make you regret it,” The fan threatened. She smirked when y/n shakingly let go of the keys.

“Okay…” y/n mumbled, wincing as her neck grazed against the knife’s blade as she spoke. “Y-you wanted to t-talk?” She asked rhetorically. “W-we can talk,” y/n offered. Hopefully, she could keep the fan talking long enough for help to reach her.

“No!” The fan scoffed. “I don’t want to talk,” she snarked.

Y/n tried to lean back from the blade, the firm tile of the bathroom floor not allowing her much relief. “B-but, you said-,” y/n argued.

“That was before this!” The fan shouted. She raised her non dominant hand, letting go of y/n’s hair.

Y/n noticed the blood dripping from the fan’s arm. She looked back up at the fan with fearful eyes. “Then… wha-what do you want?” Y/n asked, trying to slide backwards on the tile so she could at least use the wash to sit herself up.

“STOP MOVING YOU STUPID BITCH!” The fan scolded. “I love that man, but I swear he’s an idiot, I don’t how you tricked him into thinking he loves you, but I’m going to help him see the truth.”

Y/n’s eyes widened as she froze. She didn’t know what else there was to do at this point. She’d tried to fight but was out armed. She tried to scream but no one heard. She tried to call security but her phone fell. The only thing left was to try and get the crazy fan to drop her guard slightly.

“I… I… I’m sorry… I…” y/n lied, trying to appear weak and like the fan had cracked her. “What can I d-d-do?” She pleaded with fake tears. “H-how can I h-help? Please, I’ll do anything,” y/n fibbed.

“You- you want to help me?” The fan questioned hesitantly.

Y/n nodded, wincing as the blade scratched her skin. “I.. I had my fun…” she mumbled, hating herself for even lying about it. “I… you’re clearly better for him..”.

“Really?” The fan smiled. “You admit I’m better for Tom?” She asked dreamily.

Bingo. Y/n nodded faintly again, not wanting to say it.

The fan seemed to pick up on y/n’s reasoning. “Say it,” The fan barked.

“W-what?” Y/n questioned.

“Say that I’m better for Tom, that he’d be happier with me,” The fan ordered.

Y/n swallowed, the knot on her throat hitting the blade of the knife still pressed against her. She felt nauseous and her eyes prickled with tears. Tom was the actor, not y/n. But, she didn’t have much of a choice.

“Y-you’re better for Tom,” y/n mumbled. She hoped her shaky voice and watery eyes came across as fake remorse and sorrow for the fan rather than the fear and guilt she felt. When the fan stared at y/n expectantly, y/n fought the desire to tremble as she stared back in terror. “H-he… To-Tom,” y/n corrected herself not wanting to further upset the girl by being vague, “Tom would be happier with you”.

The fan smirked with pride. She tilted her head mockingly at y/n. “I’m glad you finally see it,” The fan commented. “Now, we just need to work on what you’ll say when he gets here.”

“What? He’s-he’s not coming,” y/n stated fearfully. She hoped she was right. She wanted Tom to call security, but she didn’t want Tom to get himself caught up in this dangerous situation.

“Of course he’s coming. He thinks he loves you,” the fan sighed. “He’s wrong, of course.” The fan rolled her eyes. “But no worry, because once we show him that you don’t actually love him like he deserves, he’ll choose me, his true love,” she grinned.

Y/n tensed. “S-show him… That I-“ she mumbled.

“You’ll see. You’re going to tell him that you don’t love him,” The fan explained.

“Or…” y/n whispered, her voice cracking. She knew she’d likely lost her ruse, but she couldn’t help it. She didn’t want to be forced to lie to Tom; especially about this.

“Or, I’ll remove you from the picture myself,” the fan warned. “Then he’ll finally be all mine,” She smiled.

Y/n willed herself not to cry, she had to figure out a way out of this. There was no doubt even if y/n didn’t make of it, the girl would kill Tom too once she saw Tom wasn’t going to fall in love with her the way she thought. Y/n refused to let that happen. She needed to get her and Tom out of this.

Tom ran his hand down his face as he tried dialing y/n’s number again. He’d tried twice already with no response. Granted, they were back to back, so if she was busy with something, there’d been little time to finish and answer the phone. But surely, by him calling a third time, y/n would get the seriousness behind his calls and drop whatever she’d been doing.

Tom felt his whole body go numb as his third call went to voicemail. He closed his eyes as his fear reached an all time high. He looked around to tell someone he had to leave but didn’t see Harry in the hall. Tom didn’t want to waste anymore time so he decided to just leave.

Tom ran to the set door and grabbed his jacket, yanking his keys out before dashing out the door. He threw open his car door and jumped in. He quickly dialed Jones’s phone as he sped out of the parking lot. Tom sighed when Jones didn’t answer, maybe he was already with y/n then.

Tom was only seconds from their street when Jones called him back. “Is y/n okay?! Is she with you?!” He asked after hitting accept. Tom felt a chill rush through him when Jones stated he had no idea what Tom was talking about.

Tom quickly took the corner, speeding even more as he drove closer to his apartment. “Just meet me at my house, NOW!” He shouted as he pulled into the driveway. Tom vaguely noticed Jones commenting that he and another officer were on their way.

When he threw open the front door and didn’t hear an alarm go off, Tom felt his tears rising even more. He clumsily rushed past the blanket fort y/n had made in the living room. “Y/N?! LOVE?!” Tom yelled, moving further into the apartment.

Tom glanced in the kitchen to see if the back door showed any signs of damage. Since the front door was still locked and closed, he hoped he was overreacting. Maybe y/n was just taking a nap.

Tom’s tears fell down his cheeks as he found the broken glass and open back door. “No, no, no, no, no,” he mumbled. He rushed back to the living room. “Please,” Tom whimpered.

Tom went to go up the stairs, stopping when something cracked under his foot. He slowly raised his leg and looked down. He winced as he noticed it was y/n’s phone. Tom lifted it up and saw she’d pulled up Jones’s contact. He felt his heart drop as he faintly heard a struggle upstairs.

Tom threw y/n’s phone down and bolted up the staircase. “Y/N!!” He screamed, taking the stairs three at a time. “PLEASE ANSWER ME!” He pleaded breathily as he reached the top. Tom froze as his head snapped towards the bathroom.

“GET AWAY FROM HER!” Tom belted, sprinting to the end of the hall. “HEY!” He yelled, going to pull on the girl standing over his girlfriend. Tom’s breath hitched as he saw the blade pressed against y/n’s throat.

Tom froze as he stared in fear. He could see the terror and distraught in y/n’s eyes as she was pinned to the ground at knifepoint. Tom breath was shaky as his hands were fisted at his side. He tried to shoot his girlfriend a remorseful look, uncertain if she could see it from her angle. And then, he turned his eyes towards the girl holding her hostage as his eyes lit with fury.

“Back. Away. From. Her. Now.” Tom seethed, his jaw tight as he stared down the crazy fan.

“Tom! Oh my gosh,” The fan gushed. “Hi! Sorry for the mess, Uhh,” she giggled, “not to worry, I’m sure y/n will help clean it up after”.

Tom squinted harshly at the girl. “After? After what?” He asked dreadfully. He tried to look around the girl to see how y/n was doing. His eyes widened upon seeing drops of blood on the white tile flooring. Tom glanced back at the fan, “please. Whatever you want, it’s yours. Take it!” He pleaded.

“Is it money?” Tom questioned, “you can have it. Call my brother and he’ll help get it all out from the bank for you”.

Y/n tried to speak, but her voice was muffled as the fan pressed the flat edge against her more forcefully in warning. She squirmed and debated whether she should try and fight the fan off again now that Tom was here.

“Y/n,” Tom whimpered. “Don’t, please,” he begged, “I’ve got this”. Tom looked back towards the fan with his hands held up. “Just call him, his name is in my phone-".

“Harry, duh. I know your brother’s name, silly,” the fan laughed. “I know all their names! What kind of girlfriend would I be if I didn’t?!” She shook her head in disbelief.

Tom tried to resist looking confused as he slowly nodded. “Okay…” he mumbled, “so… then uhh,.. Yeah, call him and he’ll get you however much you want. It’s all yours. Just, let y/n go, please”.

“I don’t want your money,” the fan tsked.

“You.. you don’t?” Tom sighed in frustration. “Then wh-what do you want?” He asked hopelessly. “Merch? Harry can get that too. Ummm autographs? Tell me what to sign. Umm, do you want-“ Tom rambled, trying to find a solution.

The crazed fan pouted. “I don’t want anything from you babe,” she answered. “Relax, you don’t have to do anything Tommy bear.”

Tom’s breath wavered as he tried to keep his composure. “Then… then wh-why is my girlfriend on the-?” He stopped himself as the fan glared and turned to y/n, gripping the knife tighter. Tom realized his mistake; this fan claimed in her message that she thought she was his one true love.

“Ex,” the fan hissed, turning back to Tom. “Your ex-girlfriend,” she corrected.

Tom swallowed tensely. Even though the statement was false, it didn’t sit well with him. Even more concerning though was that he had no idea where the fan was going with all of this if she already decided y/n was his ex.

“Don’t worry sweetie,” The girl sighed with what sounded like sympathy. “You’re about to hear why that’s a good thing,” she said. “And I’ll be here to help you through it after.”

Tom opened his mouth to ask what exactly the girl meant when suddenly she was ordering y/n to sit up. He flinched forward instinctively when y/n struggled to get into a seated position. Tom only stopped himself when the fan pressed the knife closer to y/n’s skin, grazing it slightly. Ironically, he wanted to move towards y/n even more after that in order to get the knife away from her, but he knew any movement on his behalf could make things drastically worse in seconds; before he would have time to stop it.

Y/n rested her head against the wall of the bathroom. Her cheek brushed against the toilet paper holder installed beside her on the wall. She couldn’t get herself to look at Tom knowing what the fan was about to make her do. The fan had warned/instructed y/n on it prior to Tom’s arrival.

“Okay, speak,” The fan ordered. She moved infinitesimal to the side so Tom could see y/n clearly.

Y/n closed her eyes and shook her head. She no longer cared about the pain that came with such movement. Y/n felt her tears stream down her face as she tried not to shake. Her stomach was in knots and all she wanted to do was throw up.

“NOW!” The fan shouted, her anger rising at y/n’s lack of cooperation.

Tom flinched at the sudden outburst. He kept his eyes focused on his terrified girlfriend. He watched as her eyes opened and he nodded for her to comply with whatever the fan was saying to do. “Y-y/n, it’s okay, just say it,” Tom pleaded softly.

“See, Tom wants the truth,” the girl remarked. “Now,” she glared at y/n, “tell him”.

Y/n whimpered as she held eye contact with her boyfriend. She saw him silently begging her with his eyes to just do it. Y/n sniffled as she closed her eyes. “I… I… I can’t,” she resisted.

“Do it or I swear!” The girl screeched.

Tom saw the wild look in the girl’s eyes and his fear increased. “Y/n,” he whispered. “I.. I want to hear the truth,” Tom mumbled, playing along with whatever the fan was going for.

Y/n squeezed her eyes tighter and shook. She didn’t want to do this. “I… I don’t….” Y/n mumbled, stopping when the fan yelled for her to use full sentences. “I used you,” She lied.

The words tasted vile as y/n spoke her instructed words aloud. “I.. I don’t love you.” She cried, her resulting movement causing the edge of the blade to seep into her skin. “I-I-I never did. I never l-loved you,” y/n repeated as she’d been told to. She felt her body go limp in defeat after uttering the false but nonetheless hurtful words to Tom.

Tom knew what y/n was saying wasn’t true. But, he could see how badly it hurt her to just repeat them. Nonetheless, he knew he had to play along to get the crazy fan to let y/n go. Fortunately, Tom was already crying.

“O-oh,” Tom whispered with pretend shock. “I… I thought…” he sighed, stepping back in hopes the fan would follow him.

“It’s okay,” the fan soothed. “It’s okay Tommy bear, I’m here for you.” “You don’t need her, I can show you what real love is,” she promised.

Tom noticed the fan had moved closer to him, further from y/n. She was still between the two of them with the knife, but it was no longer at y/n’s throat. Tom wiped his eyes dramatically with a frown. “But… I just…. I can’t believe…” he murmured, taking another few steps down the hall.

The fan sighed. “I know, it’s cruel,” she agreed, “but, aren’t you glad to find out before it was too late?”

Tom shrugged as he yet again moved back some, the fan unconsciously following him. He tried to shoot y/n a sign to be ready to run when the girl eventually exited the bathroom, but y/n wasn’t looking at him. He sighed and quickly improvised. “It’s just…y/n,” Tom whimpered, the fan pouting as he seemingly cried over y/n’s ‘declaration’.

Y/n looked up at hearing Tom say her name. She noticed the way he immediately made eye contact with her and then shifted his gaze to the floor. Y/n looked around and realized the crazy chick and Tom had stepped further into the hall. She was no longer at knifepoint.

Y/n quietly slid her hand toward the keys she’d abandoned earlier. She mentally thanked the girl for being stupid enough to not kick them away. Once she had the keys in reach, y/n took a deep breath as she thought of a game plan. She had to be careful, she didn’t want Tom getting stuck in the crossfire or for the fan to flip out on him in retaliation.

Y/n glanced back up at Tom as she heard him still mumbling about his shock over her statement. In doing so, she noticed a shadow in the staircase. Something she assumed the fan hadn’t seen due to staring crazily at Tom. Y/n took one last deep breath before she silently moved for the keys.

Y/n held the keys in her hands and tried to give Tom a warning glance. She then got onto her knees and leaned forward until she dug the keys into the girl’s leg. Y/n nearly vomited at the force she had to use to puncture the girl’s leg more than just a scratch. But, it was enough for her to get the girl to spin away from Tom.

As the fan turned on y/n, Tom rushed forward to try and grab the knife.

Y/n threw herself back to the ground as she prepared for the knife to contact her.

Before Tom could reach the crazy girl, he heard a buzzing sound and the girl fell to her knees, the knife hitting the ground beside y/n. He snapped his head behind him and saw his security guards standing there, one of whom had tased the fan.

Tom tried to run to y/n but one of the guards stopped him. The one with the taser sidestepped him, likely going to grab the crazy girl. But Tom pushed past both of them and ran to the bathroom. He jumped over the spasming fan in the doorway and fell to his knees beside y/n.

Tom sighed as he saw Y/n was still hunched over, waiting for the impact. “I-It’s just m-me, love,” he whispered tenderly before cautiously placing a hand on her back. When she flinched, he pulled his hand back. But, as y/n turned to look up at him with tears in her eyes, he pulled her to his chest.

“Shhhhh I’ve got you,” Tom cooed, rocking y/n lightly. “You’re safe.” “I’m so sorry”. He repeated these words and similar sentiments as they both cried and held onto each other. Tom faintly heard his security taking the girl away, but he didn’t look away from y/n.

“T-t-To-T-To-“ y/n mumbled, tears still flowing down her face.

“Shhh, you don’t have to talk,” Tom assured her, delicately wiping her cheeks. “I’m here, it’s okay now.”

Y/n shook her head as another sob left her body. “I-I… I didn’t mean it!” She cried. “I swear, T-Tom. I didn’t mean any of what s-she-“.

Tom frowned and pulled y/n back to his chest. He rested his lips on the top of her head as he sighed. “I know darling, I know,” he told her. “I know she made you say it,” Tom acknowledged.

Y/n fisted Tom’s shirt as she cried into his chest. “I … I didn’t… I didn’t want to say it…” she cried. “I didn’t mean it. I swear. I didn’t mean it.” Y/n repeated.

Tom listened respectfully as y/n kept repeating herself. He pressed loving kisses to her scalp as he waited for her to calm down. After a few minutes, Tom began replying with a quiet, “I know” each time y/n promised she hadn’t meant what she said.

Tom didn’t know how long this continued. To him it felt like an eternity having to hear y/n’s choked sobs and needless apologies. But, he noticed she suddenly went quiet. Tom cautiously cupped y/n’s face and tilted it so he could see her eyes.

“I love you,” y/n promised. She gazed up into Tom’s eyes and sniffled. “I love you.”

Tom smiled softly at y/n before giving her a quick kiss. “I love you too,” he whispered.

Y/n took Tom’s face in her hands and needily pulled him in for a longer kiss. She closed her eyes as she sunk her fingers into his hair and held him close. Y/n felt a few more tears leave her eyes as she savored the taste of Tom’s lips.

“Are you hurt?” Tom asked when they pulled back, resting his forehead on y/n’s.

“I.. I don’t think so,” y/n mumbled.

“I...-there was… is…blood on the floor,” Tom argued worryingly.

Y/n pulled back and looked over at the spots Tom was referencing. “Oh, I.. I think that’s hers,” she admitted. “I kinda tore up her arm before you got here,” y/n said, eyeing her keys.

Tom hummed and smiled faintly. “I’m so p-proud of you,” he told y/n. He saw y/n’s disagreement and shook his head. “You kept yourself alive until help could come,” Tom argued. “I s-saw you tried to call Jones, you ran, you fought back, you did what you needed to do to survive.”

Y/n sniffled. “I didn’t want to say that… I shouldn’t have-“.

Tom sighed. “I know you didn’t, and I’m sorry you had to. But that’s just it, you had to,” He pointed out. “I know you didn’t mean it. I’m not hurt or mad. I’m thankful you did what you needed to do. I’m thankful you were so strong,” Tom whimpered lightly.

Y/n flattened her lips and nodded. “I’m just glad you’re here. Thank you for c-coming for me.”

“Always. Now, are you sure-” Tom began, stopping suddenly. He abruptly stood up and carefully pulled y/n up with him. “Your neck,” he muttered, gently tilting her chin up for a better view.

“Shit,” Tom hissed, upset he’d momentarily forgotten about seeing the knife slice y/n’s neck. He eyed the thin line with a deep frown. “We need to get you to the hospital.”

Y/n huffed. “Tom, please, I just… I just wanna lay down and sleep,” she cried.

Tom sucked in his lips and nodded in understanding. “Okay. You will,” he promised. “Just after you get that cut looked at,” Tom declared. “Don’t worry, I’m going with you,” he said upon seeing the fear return to y/n’s eyes.

“You didn’t tell me she clawed your back,” Tom sighed, squeezing y/n’s hand as the doctor gave y/n a tetanus booster shot.

“I forgot,” y/n laughed humorously. She sighed, “doesn’t really hurt too much though”.

Tom nodded. “And your throat?” He questioned, eyeing the bandage covering her neck.

“That one hurts like a bitch,” y/n admitted with a quiet laugh. “But, I’ll be fine,” She promised. “But…Tom…. I….” y/n trailed off.

“You what, love?” Tom inquired.

“I don’t really… umm..” y/n sighed and cleared her throat. She immediately winced at the pain that shot through her as a result. Y/n huffed and looked back at Tom, who was watching her with a sorrowful look. “I don’t want to go home… I… I know she’s gone… but…”

Tom nodded rapidly, squeezing y/n’s hand again. “We’re not going back there,” He promised. “W-when the police are umm,… done with their stuff… I’ll have Harry hire some people to help move our stuff out,” Tom stated.

Y/n smiled appreciatively at how Tom had already considered her not wanting to go back there after tonight. “But… Where are we going to stay? You are staying with me still, right?” She asked nervously.

“Of course!” Tom promised. “For now, I can take time off and we can go back to London. Or, we’ll get a hotel or new apartment until the show wraps. Whatever you want darling,” he comforted.

“You need to finish-“ y/n began. She noticed Tom was about to argue with her so she smiled and shook her head. “I want you to finish. But I won’t argue to you taking a few days off right now,” she admitted bashfully.

Tom sighed with relief, not wanting to go back to work just yet. More so, not wanting to be away from y/n again just yet. “Okay, so new place it is, we’ll get a hotel for tonight,” he decided. “Then, figure it out from there,” Tom said softly.

Y/n nodded and smiled lightly at Tom. “Can we go now?” She asked.

Tom chuckled quietly. “Once you’re cleared, darling,” he said, looking at the doctor.

“You’re all patched up, let me just get the discharge paperwork for you to sign and the at-home instructions to take care of your wounds,” the doctor offered with a sympathetic smile. “Then you’re free to go,” he told the couple as he left the room.

Y/n sighed and squeezed Tom’s hand. She was beyond ready to get out of the hospital. To be somewhere comfortable and safe. With Tom.

“In addition to the guards outside,” Tom said, nodding his head towards the door to y/n’s emergency room where a few of his security were. “I tasked Harry with booking the safest hotel he can find. I’m also going to have guards on each entrance to the hotel, and one outside watching our room if we have a patio, and a couple in the hallway by our door, they’ve been told they’ll be working around the clock, and-“ he rambled.

“Tom, I appreciate all of that,” y/n confessed. “But… She’s been arrested. I don’t think we need that many…” she argued.

Tom nodded. “You’re probably right. But… I know you keep saying it’s not my fault….” He sighed. “But, I can’t help it… please just let me do this for you, until things settle down?”

Y/n smiled warmly and nodded. “Okay, thank you.”

“Tom, you can sleep now, we’re safe,” y/n promised, snuggling into his side as he held her.

“I know,” Tom whispered. “I just want to stay awake and just hold you for a bit,” he confessed. “But, please, rest darling, you’ve had a terribly long day,” Tom pleaded, kissing y/n’s forehead.

Y/n hummed quietly as she breathed in Tom’s cologne. “I love you,” she whispered, melting into his embrace.

“I love you too,” Tom replied, smiling down at y/n. “Thank you for being such a fighter today,” he added, tenderly running his thumb over the space between her brows to soothe her. Tom grinned to himself as he watched y/n quickly drift off to sleep. He didn’t know what he would’ve done if things had gone differently today, but he was glad he didn’t have to find out.

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