horror movie lover

what do i do?! :(

what do i do?! :(

me when you post a fic

If your requests are open could I get a Vance x male reader who was taken by the grabber and escaped so people keep coming up to him and asking him questions about it, he has a temperament like Vance so he gets worked up over it and gets into a fight with someone and Vance patches him up and calms him down ? Maybe some angst to fluff

YES PLEASE GOD THANK U SO MUCH!! i’m so sorry it got deleted!!

omg i love this prompt sm!! and dw my requests are still open i’m just a slow writer so sorry if this took awhile ^^;

you weren’t sure how you got out, how you managed to outsmart the grabber and escape. especially when you escaped and managed to outrun him, for a few days you weren’t at school or outside your house let alone your bedroom- but you already dreaded what was to come. people were going to be all over you about this, so far all of the grabber’s victims didn’t survive until you, they all put up a pretty damn good fight but they didn’t make it out like you had. you already weren’t the most friendly or outgoing person, you had a bad temper and short patience too.

the only person you were fine with asking questions was vance, yet he didn’t- all he asked was if you were physically okay and mostly unharmed. once he knew you’d be fine he didn’t ask anything else related to what you went through being held captive by the grabber, you didn’t need to explain to him that you didn’t want to talk about it- he just knew it was sensitive for you and that if you didn’t have to, you wouldn’t mention it.

sadly that wasn’t how the rest of the school was, the moment you walked through the main entrance eyes were all over you. it was worse than you’d expected, some students actually had the nerve to follow after you while asking questions you didn’t even think about. ‘was he a perv?’ ‘did he- y’know-‘ ‘what’d he do to you?’ were all you heard and amongst many other questions as you walked to class. you didn’t even stop at your locker, you didn’t want to deal with being surrounded or bothered- but still even as you entered your class, your classmates also looked surprised and curious as you entered the room and sat down. almost immediately you heard a desk slide up next to yours, the sound of the desk bumping into yours only fuelled your already bubbling anger. “(y/n) i saw the paper,” the boy began.

you couldn’t really remember his name, but he always riled you up enough to get you to have a reaction. “you got kidnapped by the grabber? how’d you get out? the paper didn’t say anything about what you did to get out- i mean did he let you go?” he questions, the glare you shoot him isn’t enough to make him stop- if anything he looks even more curious. “like did you beat him up? was he gross? where’d he keep you?” he continues to press, you already started to feel your stomach twist and chest tighten.

despite all your anger you couldn’t help but feel trapped again, you hated having to think about it— it wasn’t badass and fun, you were terrified for your life the entire time you were with him. what was his fucking problem? why wouldn’t he just leave you alone?? you could barely focus, starting to think about all the questions he was asking you. yet you gave no answer, you only stared down at the desk while your hands balled up into fists- knuckles turning white and nails slightly digging into your palms. the boy scoffed, thinking you were ignoring him as per usual. so he reached out and grabbed your arm- giving you a shake to get your attention, though it backfired. you stood quickly and reeled your closed fist back-

only to swing it forward without warning. you were barely thinking about what he was trying to do, all you thought about was the grabber and his advances he had tried to make- the naughty boy game, the watching you while you slept or ate— it was all coming back to you at once. you shook with rage as the kid almost fell out of his desk, but he was quick to climb over his own and lunge at you.

quickly the teacher gasped, she jogged out of the room to find another teacher to separate you two, for what felt like minutes- maybe longer, could’ve been hours, you two were wrestling and slamming each other onto the desks. you bit, scratched, kicked and screamed- you were convinced you’d meet the same fate as those other boys if you didn’t defend yourself. the hits landed on you only fuelled your panicked rage, in reality you two had only been fighting for a good minute at most before someone was yanking him off you. you were laying on your desk, on your side and trying to process what just happened- the students cheering was quick to die down as you were met with the sight of vance standing over you. “hey- (y/n), let’s get you outta here. c’mon,” he said, sighing as he pulled you up. he slung an arm around your waist, sliding your arm over his shoulder as he walked you out of the classroom.

thankfully vance avoided the few teachers that were making their way to the classroom to break up the fight, quickly enough he brought you to the bathroom too. “you looked like a rabid animal back there, what’d he do?” he asks as he enters the handicapped stall, setting you down onto the seat before starting to dig through his vest. “pushed the wrong buttons i guess,” you murmur, you were still snapping out of the dissociative state you fell into while fighting. “he- wouldn’t fuck off.. no one would, people are asking me shit i didn’ even fuckin’ think of vance. it- it makes me think what if it did happen?” you say, trying your damn best not to cry, you’ve always had a habit of crying out of anger when things upset you too much, “it won’t.. they should just be glad you’re alive. i know i am, i’m not going to think of the ifs of what ifs,” vance says as he fished a roll of gauze out of his pocket, he also pulled out a few of those little alcohol wipes in the separate packages.

“he busted your lip, you got a bloody nose too.” he says while opening the packet, one hand gently cupped your face while the other cleaned the blood off your lips. you tensed once the wipe went over your busted lip, it always stung so fucking bad- but you didn’t mind it when it was vance taking care of you. “you’re happy i’m alive?” you say softly, trying to hold back your smile as vance softens. “course i am, you have no idea how happy i was knowing you were okay.” he sighs, once done with the alcohol wipe he grabbed some tissue paper, using it to wipe the blood off your face and plug your bloody nose up. as the last of the blood was wiped from your face vance leaned close, pressing a kiss to the corner of your lips- he didn’t want to kiss your busted lip, he didn’t want to make it hurt.