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starkwlkr · 3 hours ago

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she’s always a woman | max verstappen

an: this fic is a special birthday fic for my lovely friend anto!! happy birthday love!! hope you enjoy your special day <3 also let’s just pretend that lewis wasn’t battling max for the championship in 2021 instead it’s max and the reader

tw: jos mention and narcissistic mother

Max couldn’t really remember why your friendship ended. He was always there when you needed a shoulder to cry on, when you had a bad race and needed some support, etc. He was always there so when you stopped talking to him, he was confused and hurt.

KARTING DAYS

At the time, the boys you raced against hated being beat by a girl. It was humiliating! A girl was faster than them? No way! But when Max Verstappen saw how fast you were, he was amazed. You made it look so easy.

“How many trophies do you have now?” Seven year old Max asked you as you two shared a bag of gummy bears, your favorite snack.

“I haven’t counted. What about you?” You questioned.

“I haven’t counted either.” He replied.

It was a long day of practice and all Max wanted to do was spend time with you and eat gummy bears. He noticed how you only ate certain colors like red, blue, orange and yellow. He asked why only those colors and your response was that those colors were your favorites, all the other colors looked unappetizing.

Spending time with you was something Max loved about karting. Most of the boys you competed with would rather lose than hang out with a girl, but not Max. He liked being around you. And it seemed like you liked having Max around too so it made no sense to Max why you stopped talking to him.

As time went on, Jos Verstappen kept a close eye on you. He certainly didn’t want some girl distracting his son. He kept telling Max how much of a bad influence you were, but of course Max didn’t listen. Why would he? He liked you and you liked him.

Unlike Max, your mother’s words went to your head.

“He’s just like the other boys, sweetheart. When you least expect it, he’s going to leave you heartbroken.” Your mother told you one day after another successful win. She watched the way Max stood next to you on the podium and clapped for you.

“But he’s my friend.” You said lowly.

“What did I say about this sport? You are not here to make friends, they are not your friends and neither is he. He’s competition and if you want to keep winning then you need to keep away from that boy!”

The next time Max saw you, he was the heartbroken one. Every time he kept trying to get your attention, you ignored him and turned the other way.

Did I do something wrong? Maybe I forgot her birthday? No, it was a month ago and we ate chocolate cake together.

All day Max was wondering what he did to make you upset. He had even brought a tiny bag with only red, blue, orange and yellow gummy bears for you. He had spent an hour picking out your favorite gummy bears and now you weren’t talking to him. . .

Little Max Verstappen had his first heartbreak at the hands of his first love.

The next day he figured you would start talking to him, but it was like he didn’t even exist in your world. He was starting to lose hope.

“Good, now you won’t have any distractions.” Jos told him after Max mentioned how you had stopped talking to him.

“But she wasn’t!”

“She was.” Jos confirmed.

Max stayed quiet. He knew it was no use trying to argue with his father.

As you both grew up, Max was beside you at every podium even if you weren’t on speaking terms. He hoped that maybe one day you would speak to him. He also kept a plastic bag in his bag with your favorite gummy bears to share with you in case that day ever came.

2021 SEASON

Max was both nervous and excited for the last few races of the season. Both you and him were battling for the championship. It was like a dream come true for him, both of you in Formula 1 and now you’re both in the championship picture. He wouldn’t have it any other way. To Max, it would’ve been better if you could at least acknowledge him.

It was after the Brazilian Grand Prix when Max wanted to congratulate you on your win, but had to wait until you finished with your interviews. He was eager to talk to you.

The post-race interviews were a whirlwind, but the moment that caught your attention was when a reporter, eager for a headline, asked you about Max Verstappen.

“We've heard that you and Max were childhood friends. What’s the story there? You two seem to be fierce competitors now. Was there any friendship left between you, or is it all business these days?"

Your smile tightened. It was the last thing you wanted to discuss, but you were a professional, and you knew better than to let your personal life spill over into the press room. Your gaze flicked to the corner where Max was conducting his own interviews, but you quickly refocused on the question.

“Max and I... we were friends, sure," you said coolly, your voice steady but your tone sharp, almost as if you were trying to distance yourself from the memory. "But that was a long time ago. I don’t really have time for friendships anymore. Racing’s my focus. It always has been."

“But you were so close back then," the reporter pressed. "Is it hard to battle him for the title, given your history?"

You shrugged, trying to maintain your composure. "Racing's not about who you used to be friends with. It’s about who’s the best right now. And I’m focused on being the best."

“So, no hard feelings?" he asked, genuinely curious.

You didn’t miss a beat. "No time for feelings," you replied, your lips curling into a faint, almost imperceptible smile. "Just results."

After finishing all your interviews, you walked back to your driver’s room. All you wanted was to lay down and take a much needed nap, but the sweet voice of a Dutchman stopped you. It had been years since you heard Max say your name.

Before you could say anything, Max stood up abruptly and walked toward you, his stride purposeful. He reached out, grabbing your arm with a firm grip, pulling you into your room without a word.

“Let go of me, Max," you whispered, but your voice cracked.

“No," he said simply, his tone rough, but his eyes were soft—something in them that you hadn’t seen in years. "I’m not letting you walk away again."

Your heart skipped a beat. His eyes searched yours, that fierce intensity you remembered from your childhood still present, though now mixed with something else—pain, perhaps. The unspoken hurt you both carried for so long hung between you two.

“Max," you began, but he cut you off.

“Why did you stop talking to me?" His voice was quieter now, but the question hung in the air, sharp and urgent. “Everyday i asked myself ‘did I do something wrong? Did I say something that hurt her?’ What is is? Why?”

Your throat tightened. You took a shaky breath, your eyes lowering to the floor. "You were my competition," you muttered. "And my mother… she made it clear. She said you would take everything from me. That I needed to stop talking to you or I’d lose everything." Your chest constricted, and you felt a sudden wave of bitterness rise within you. "She said you were nothing more than a threat to my future, and I had to focus—focus on winning.” It pained you to even remember all the talks your mother had with you about Max.

Max stared at you for a moment, taking in your words. The silence that followed was thick, the air between them charged with everything unspoken. Then, slowly, he stepped closer.

“I never wanted to take anything from you." His eyes were filled with a quiet sincerity that made your stomach twist. "I never asked for this. I never asked for us to be enemies."

Your breath hitched as a knot formed in your chest. You stepped back, your hands trembling. "But that’s what she wanted. She wanted me to beat you, to prove I was better. To make sure you didn’t have what I could have." Your voice cracked, the words tumbling out in a flood of emotion you had long kept hidden. "I—"

Your words faltered as you felt the familiar sting of tears threatening to fall. You tried to hold them back, but the weight of it all—the pressure, the competition, the years of silence—was too much. You turned away, pressing your palms to your face, feeling the dam break inside you.

Max didn’t hesitate. He stepped forward, his arms enveloping you in an instant. You stiffened at first, surprised by the warmth and steadiness of his embrace. For a moment, you couldn’t breathe, couldn't think. But then, something inside you snapped, and you collapsed into him, your body shaking as the tears finally came.

Max didn’t say anything. He didn’t need to. He just held you, his hand gently rubbing your back, grounding you in the moment.

"I’m sorry," you whispered between sobs. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.” You kept repeating.

His grip tightened ever so slightly, as if offering you the comfort and understanding you had been denied for so long. "You didn’t deserve any of that." You clung to him, unable to stop the flood of emotions that had been building for years.

Eventually, the tears slowed, and the sobs turned into shallow breaths. Max didn’t let go. He stayed, a quiet anchor, as if he would hold you for as long as you needed.

When you finally pulled back, your eyes were swollen, your makeup smudged, but you felt something lighter—something like relief, like a door you hadn’t realized was closed had finally opened.

“Does your dad know you’re here?” You wiped away the tears.

“I don’t really care about him right now,” Max responded. He took your hand and brought it up to his lips, pressing a kiss to the back of your hand. “You need me right now.”

“Max, I don’t want you to get in trouble. You need to leave.”

“I’m a grown man. He can’t tell me who I can and any talk to.” He said.

“Then . . . I don’t care what my mother says either,” You declared. “You know, she said we couldn’t talk anymore because you were my competition. That I shouldn’t get too close to you. She thought it would make me weak."

“Your mom never understood that... you’re not my competition. You never were. You were my best friend. And I . . . I miss that.”

“I’m not going anywhere, Max.”

QATAR

The camera lights flickered on, and the usual hum of the media circus surrounded Max Verstappen as he sat in front of the press. Another victory under his belt, but the atmosphere in the room felt different today—slightly more tense than usual. The 2021 season was in full swing, and the rivalry between Max and his childhood best friend and fellow F1 driver, had become one of the most talked-about stories of the year.

“Max, earlier this week, someone that you knew quite well was quoted saying, ‘No time for feelings, just results,’ when talking about your past friendship. Given the intensity of your current rivalry, how do you feel about that statement?”

He took a breath and leaned forward, his voice steady but laced with an undeniable undercurrent of emotion.

“she’s one of the most focused and driven people I know. I don’t think anyone truly understands what it’s like to be in her head—how much racing means to her. She’s an artist, in every sense of the word, when it comes to driving. She doesn’t do anything halfway.”

A brief silence fell over the room. Max seemed to weigh his next words carefully.

“We’ve both been through a lot over the years, and yeah . . . I get why she said what she did. This sport can make you say things you don’t always mean. It can make you choose things—like cutting ties with people who used to be your family, just so you can win. But trust me, it’s not easy for her. Or for me.”

His voice softened slightly, the edge of competition giving way to something more genuine—something rooted in your shared history.

“She’s not the kind of person to just forget about things or people. I know her better than anyone,” He continued. It was as if he could talk about you all day and never get bored. “As for the championship, yeah, It’s just the way it is. But that doesn’t change the fact that I respect her more than anyone. She’s a hell of a driver, and I know what she’s capable of.”

Max leaned back slightly, the cool exterior of the driver once again overtaking his emotions. He was a fighter. And this season, he wasn’t just fighting for the title.

ABU DHABI

It had been weeks since your last conversation with Max, but occasionally you would sneak glances at each other. Maybe even smile at him, which caused the media to wonder if your friendship had finally been restored.

The paddock was bustling with the usual pre-race energy—team members darting around, engineers checking telemetry, and drivers preparing for what would be a pivotal race. But Max Verstappen was not focused on the usual chaos. He was standing in front of your motorhome, his jaw clenched as he faced a woman who had been an obstacle in his life for far too long: you mother.

All he wanted to do before the race was to wish you good luck but he had one problem that came in the form of your mother.

“This is a pivotal moment for her career, Max. The championship is on the line. She needs to focus.” Your mother spoke.

Max’s eyes narrowed. “She doesn’t need you to tell her how to focus. She’s not a child anymore. She’s not your puppet.”

She smirked, her gaze calculating. “Oh, I know exactly how to handle her. You, on the other hand, have always been a distraction. Just like you were when you were kids. I told her back then that you were competition. And look where we are now—competing for the championship.”

Max took a step forward, his voice low but sharp. “You don’t get to control her anymore. She doesn’t deserve the way you treated her. She never did. She’s not some tool for you to use to further your own agenda. She’s a person. A damn good one, too.”

Your mother raised an eyebrow, her lips curling into a smug grin. “And now you think you have feelings for her? After all these years? You’re wasting your time, Max.

Max’s chest tightened, a sudden rush of frustration coursing through him. He had always felt something for you—something deep and complicated—but he hadn’t realized how much until he saw you again. How could he not? The way you made him laugh, the way you understood him in a way no one else did. The way your presence grounded him when the world felt chaotic.

“I’m not wasting my time,” Max snapped, his voice rising. He was no longer just angry; there was something more vulnerable beneath his words. “I... I care about her. More than you’ll ever understand. And I’m not going to just stand by and watch you tear her down again.”

Her eyes widened, the smugness on her face faltering for just a moment. She hadn’t expected that. But she quickly recovered, her icy demeanor back in place. “You think you can just waltz in and change everything, Max? You think she’s going to forget the way I’ve always looked out for her?”

Max’s pulse was racing now. “You’ve never looked out for her. You’ve held her back. You’ve made her feel like she couldn’t trust herself. Do you know how many times she’s questioned her worth because of you?”

Before your mother could reply, Max spoke again. “If you think for a second that I’m going to back off now, you’re wrong.”

Your mother glared at the Dutchman. “I’ve spent years in Formula 1, fighting for every ounce of respect, and now I’m fighting for her, too. And I’m not letting anyone—least of all you—tell me what I can or can’t feel about her.”

His words hung in the air between them, the weight of them settling in. He turned to leave, but paused at the door of your motorhome, looking back one last time.

“Tell her,” Max said, softer now, “Tell her I’ll be waiting at the finish line. I’ll always be waiting.”

Maybe your mother would pass on the message, maybe not. Either way, Max would still be waiting for you.

The roar of the crowd still echoes in the distance, but it’s muffled, almost surreal, as you stand behind the barriers, your helmet under your arm, heart still racing from the intensity of the race. The buzz of the paddock feels far away, and your body is heavy with exhaustion and disappointment. You finished second—close, but not close enough. Max had done it. He’d won the championship, after all the drama and all the battles that had led them to this final, decisive moment.

You lift your eyes and see him, standing by his car. Max, in his usual composed way, looking like he belongs there, like he's always belonged there, standing among the team and the media, all his focus, all his attention fixed on you. A smile tugs at the corner of his lips when he spots you, but it’s the way he’s standing, waiting, that hits you. Like he said he would.

You hesitate for a moment, thinking about your mother’s words, about everything that has always been said about Max—his arrogance, his rivalry, the fact that he’s always been competition. But this, here, this feels like something different. He’s not the enemy anymore. At least, not in the way they used to think of each other.

You take a breath, and then, almost instinctively, you walk toward him. As you step closer, you hear the whisper of her mother’s voice in the back of your mind, a warning you’ve heard so many times before. Stay focused. Don’t let him distract you. He’s your competition, not your friend.

But your steps don’t falter. You reach him, and when you do, you look up at him, your gaze soft, not the hardened competitive stare it once was. Max’s grin deepens, though it’s filled with something almost bittersweet.

“I heard you were waiting for me,” You said, the words slipping out before you can stop them. Your voice is steady, but there’s a touch of vulnerability in it, something you can’t quite mask.

Max’s eyes soften, and for a moment, it feels like time pauses. He looks at you as if he’s not seeing the driver, the fierce competitor, but the girl he used to know—the one he used to race against in karting, the one who once shared the same dream, the one who still, in some ways, understands him better than anyone else.

“I told you I would,” he replies quietly, his voice low and calm. “I wasn’t going anywhere.”

Your mind flashes back to the words he said to your mother, the promise he made—I’ll always be waiting.

“You won. Congratulations.”

Max’s expression doesn’t change, but there’s a certain warmth in the way he looks at you, a quiet understanding that goes beyond just racing. He takes a step closer, his voice a little softer now. “You’re better than you think. I have a feeling you’ll take it away from me next year.”

You shake your head, but there’s no bitterness in your gesture. “Next year,” you repeat. Your fingers press the edge of your helmet tighter, almost like you’re grounding herself in this moment. But there’s something else too—a sense of peace you haven’t felt in a long time. “Maybe. But I’m just glad you’re here.”

Max’s smile is genuine now. “I’ll always be here. Waiting for you to finally beat me.”

You laugh—a real laugh this time, one that’s not forced. “Maybe I’ll take you up on that one day,” you say, your voice a little lighter. “You should go with your team, I’m sure they’re waiting to drown you in champagne.”

Max chuckles, then steps forward. For a moment, it’s just the two of you, standing in the midst of the chaos, everything else fading into the background. You breathe in, realizing just how much this—this moment—matters more than the championship itself.

“So, Max, you’ve just won the title, but there’s a lot of talk about your competitor. She’s been called ‘too emotional’ in the past by some. What’s your take on how she handled this title fight?”

Max turns towards the reporter, a protective energy surging in him. He absolutely hated doing interviews, all he wanted to do was get back to you. “Well, for one, I think anyone who says she’s ‘too emotional’ is clearly not paying attention. She’s one of the most focused drivers out there. Honestly, anyone who thinks you can compete in this sport at the level we’ve been at, especially in the last few races, without being deeply passionate—well, they don’t understand what it takes.” He glances over at you, who’s trying to hide a smile while also looking frustrated with the question.

While you were a few feet away from him doing your own interview, you could hear Max. You tried hard to listen to the interview questions, but all you wanted to do was listen to what Max had to say.

“isn’t it a bit too much? The way she gets in her own head. She’s been—well, let’s just say, a bit of a perfectionist this season.”

Max shook his head, chuckling at the reporters words. “But, you know, that’s exactly why she’ll be winning a championship someday soon. I have no doubt about it, but I’m excited for the day she takes my championship away.”

Max could hear you burst into laughter at his words. His smile grew ten times bigger. “Seriously, though, she’s one of the most talented drivers I’ve ever known. she’ll steal the show when you least expect it. And maybe she’s a little bit hard to understand at times, but that’s exactly what makes her great.”

The reporter nodded. “Are you saying she’s like, uh, the Billy Joel song?” He asked confused.

Max grinned, clearly amused by the confusion. “She’s always a woman to me. Maybe I’m not the best person to explain it, but you get the idea.”

You chuckled once again as you heard Max. He really had a way with words.

“And one day, I’ll be watching her take the title with the same respect I have for her right now.”

That’s when you decide to step in after finishing your interview. “Maybe, Max. But for now, I think I'll let you have your moment. You’ve earned it.”

“We both did. I owe it all to you.”

#formula 1 #f1 x reader #formula 1 imagine #f1 imagine #f1 x you #max verstappen x you #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen one shot #max verstappen fanfic #max verstappen imagine #mv1 x reader #mv33 x reader #mv33 #mv1 fic

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v6quewrlds · 2 days ago

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❝ n side, a. iosivas. ❞ ‎ ‎ ┉

‎ ‎ ⁎⠀┉⠀summary: it's the night after the night that didn't happen. andrei is on a mission to make it happen.

‎ ‎ ⁎⠀┉⠀author's note: listen... that summary makes zero sense because i'm finishing this at one in the morning. this is the second part to bad liar <3 this is also long asf, been writing this for nearly a month lol

‎ ‎ ⁎⠀┉⠀warnings: smut, please do not interact with my work if you are under 18. friends to lovers, andrei is a simp part 2, language, college setting, first dates, first times, protected sex, oral (male receiving), slight overstim, fingering.

‎ ‎ ⁎⠀┉⠀pairing: andrei iosivas x reader.

‎ ‎ ⁎⠀┉⠀word count: 7.8k.

The TV's blue glow had been replaced with the soft light of dawn peeking through your curtains before you arose. You blinked awake to find Andrei's arms still wrapped around you, his face smushed cutely against the pillow that somehow ended up on his side during the night. You lay there, watching the rise and fall of his chest, the quiet of the early morning a stark contrast to the chaos of the night before. The room was still, your friends sprawled across the floor and chair like discarded ragdolls.

Carefully, you remove yourself from his embrace, not wanting to wake him yet. You padded over to the window and pushed the curtains aside before lifting the window open, the cool morning air brushing against your skin. The sky was a soft pink, hinting at the promise of a beautiful autumn day. You felt a pang of guilt for your skipped MCAT studies but pushed it aside, telling yourself that one night off wouldn't hurt.

Kaia stirred from the chair, her eyes squinting against the light. "What time is it?" she mumbled, her voice groggy.

You glanced at the clock on your nightstand. "A little past six."

Kaia groaned, rubbing her eyes. "Why the fuck are you up so early? You don't have class until 10."

You shrugged. "Couldn't sleep." You glanced back at Andrei, still peacefully asleep. "Besides, I need to get ready for that MCAT prep class I'm taking."

Kaia rolled her eyes. "Always the overachiever," she teased, stretching her limbs. "But seriously, are you okay with all this?" She nodded towards the makeshift camp of sleeping bodies scattered around the room. "I know it gets overwhelming sometimes when everyone crashes here. I don’t want you to feel like we’re taking advantage of you."

You couldn't help but smile as you studied the scene. "Yeah, it's fine. They're all just comfortable." You turned back to the window, the cool breeze from the opened window ruffling your hair. "And honestly, it's kind of nice to have everyone so close."

Kaia sat up, her eyes searching yours. "And what about Andrei?" she whispered, a knowing smile playing on her lips. "Y'all was looking real comfortable last night. Kissin' and shit in the middle of the room." Her tone changing to poke fun at her friend's change in behavior.

You felt the blush creep up your neck. "It's not like that," you protested weakly, but Kaia only giggled, not fooled for a second. "Okay, it's kind of like that." you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. Kaia hummed in response, standing up and walking over to poke at Faith who was drooling on Javi's chest.

"Kai," you hissed as she turned around. "Pinky promise you won't tell anyone what I'm about to tell you?"

Your best friend's eyes widened and she leaned in closer, holding up her pinky. "Pinky promise," she whispered back, a grin spreading across her face.

"I wanna fuck him, so bad," you confessed in a whisper, your eyes on Andrei. You could barely get the full sentence out before the two of you dissolved into hushed laughter. Kaia's head fell back as she tried to silence her giggles. "Girl, I was so close to jumping his bones last night," you continued, her voice a mix of amazement and frustration.

Kaia gave you a knowing look. "Why didn't you?"

"Because, Kaia," you whispered, "I don't know if he was just drunk or if he really means it. I don't want to mess up our friendship."

Kaia rolled her eyes playfully. "You've been crushing on him for months, he's been obsessed with you for years, and now you're gonna get all 'what if' on me? If he didn't mean it, he wouldn't have been so persistent all this time," she whispered back, her voice filled with amusement and a hint of understanding.

You sighed, leaning your forehead against the cool glass of the window. "But what if we do it and it's terrible? What if we ruin everything?"

Kaia's eyes softened as she leaned against the wall. "You're the smartest girl I know," she said, her voice low enough not to wake the others. "You'll figure it out, keep him in line. Just go for it."

Your gaze drifted back to Andrei. He had rolled over in his sleep and was now facing you, his features relaxed and peaceful. You felt a warmth spread through your chest. "You think?" you whispered.

Kaia nodded firmly. "I know. Just don't overthink it, bae. Sometimes, you just gotta take the risk." She yawned and stood up fully, stretching her arms over her head. "Do you have anything to eat in here or did they eat everything?"

You laughed, shaking your head. "We should pop into Dunkin', grab some breakfast." You turned to grab your keys, carefully stepping over Malik's outstretched legs. "Malik and Faith both have an 8AM, so they'll probably be up soon anyways."

The two of you made your way out of the dorm, the brisk morning air a welcome dose of reality after the hazy warmth of the night before. The quiet hallways were a stark contrast to the loud festivities you had left behind in the clubs. As you walked to and from the Dunkin' Donuts, your mind swirled with thoughts of Andrei and what your relationship might become.

When you returned, the room was a little more chaotic. Malik was up, rummaging through your mini-fridge for something edible, while Javi and Faith were still entangled at the foot of the bed, their breathing steady and deep. Andrei was sitting up in bed, scrolling through his phone with a sleepy smile on his face. He looked up as you and Kaia entered, his eyes immediately finding yours.

"Good morning," he mumbled, his voice thick with sleep.

You couldn't help but feel a thrill at his greeting. It felt intimate, like you were the only two people in the room. "Good morning," you replied, handing him a bag of his go-to sandwich—a sausage, egg, and cheese on a croissant—and an apple juice. "How did you sleep?"

He took the food with a grateful smile, his eyes lingering on yours before glancing down. "Surprisingly well," he said, his cheeks coloring slightly. "Your bed's pretty comfy."

"Do you got food for me, too?" Malik called out from the mini-fridge, his voice muffled by the fridge door.

You tossed him a bag with a roll of your eyes. "You know the drill, Malik. You eat then you get the fuck out."

Malik caught the bag with one hand and pulled out a donut with the other. "But I'm your favorite," he protested with a mouthful.

"Not after last night," Javi retorted with a laugh as he was finally shaken out of his sleep from the smell of greasy breakfast food. Faith stretched, looking around the room with bleary eyes.

You balled up a napkin and tossed it at Javi playfully. "You're all my favorite, but you're all still leaving after you eat," you said, your smile not quite reaching your eyes as you turned back to Andrei.

The room grew quieter as you all ate, the occasional laugh piercing through the silence. As you all finished, you cleared your throat, looking at the clock. "I really do need to get ready for that MCAT class," you said, trying to keep you voice light. "So love you all but please leave."

Andrei took the hint and stood up, stretching. "Alright, I'll walk you there, it's on my way to my dorm," he offered, his voice hopeful. You felt a thrill at his words, the promise of a moment alone with him making your heart race. Kaia smirked as she watched them, nudging Malik who was still scarfing down the last of his food.

"Come on y'all, let's get going," Kaia said, shooing the rest of the group out of the room. "We don't want to ruin their morning after."

Malik and Javi groaned, reluctantly peeling themselves off the floor. Faith giggled, her cheeks flushed as she looked at Javi. "You two are adorable," she whispered to you with a knowing wink as she slid past. Andrei could only blush to himself as he avoided eye contact with the other guys who made kissy faces as they left.

Once the room had emptied, Andrei helped you gather the trash and empty shot glasses scattered from your night of partying. The air was charged with an electricity that made your skin tingle. As you worked, your bodies brushed against each other, sending a thrill through you that you hadn't felt in a long time.

When the room was back to its semi-tidy state, Andrei turned to you, the playfulness in his eyes replaced by a seriousness that made your stomach flip. "So, about that date," he began, his voice low and earnest. "I wasn't just saying that because I was drunk or because everyone else is in love or whatever. I've wanted to ask you out for a while."

You felt a mix of excitement and nerves wash over you. "I know," you said, your voice barely above a whisper. "I've noticed." You took a step closer to him, your eyes locked. "But why didn't you?"

Andrei took a deep breath, his gaze searching hers. "I was fuckin’ terrified," he admitted, his voice cracking slightly with a nervous laugh. "Afraid of rejection, afraid of messing up our friendship, afraid of what everyone else would think."

You reached out and placed your hand on his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath your palm. "But we're all adults, right?" you said, your voice gentle. "We can handle it."

Andrei's eyes were sincere, void of any signs of doubt. "Yeah," he said, his voice firm. "We can handle it."

You both knew that saying it was one thing, but navigating the murky waters of a relationship while balancing school and your social lives would be another challenge entirely. But in that moment, with the sun just starting to peek through the curtains, you felt like you could conquer the world. "Okay," you said, your voice filled with excitement. "Let's do it."

Andrei's smile grew wider as he took your hand in his. "It's a date," he said, raising your wrist to his lips and giving it a gentle kiss. You shared a moment, your eyes locked, the anticipation of your newfound romance palpable in the air.

"Stop that," you said, giggling and pulling your hand away, though you couldn't hide the smile on your lips.

Andrei grinned, his eyes gleaming with mischief. "What, this?" He leaned in and kissed your wrist again, sending a jolt of desire through you.

You rolled your eyes, but the corners of your mouth tugged upwards. "Yeah, that." You stepped back and began to gather your textbooks, trying to ignore the way your heart skipped a beat every time your fingers brushed together.

Andrei took the hint and grabbed his shoes, laughing quietly. "Alright, alright, got you blushin' and shit." He nudged you playfully as he slipped them on.

You couldn't help but laugh, the tension in the room dissipating as you stepped into the hallway, leaving the confines of your dorm behind. The quiet of the early morning was a stark contrast to the noise of the night before. The two of you walked in comfortable silence, your hands occasionally brushing against each other before Andrei gave into the temptation, taking your hand as you descended the stairs.

As you reached the bottom, your heart fluttered when Andrei leaned in and whispered, "Thank you for not throwing me out with the trash." His breath was warm against your ear, sending a shiver down your spine.

You playfully swatted his arm. "You know you're not trash, you're more like a recyclable," you teased, trying to keep the conversation light despite the weight of your newfound feelings.

The walk to class was filled with easy conversation and occasional glances that spoke volumes more than words ever could. The leaves crunched under your feet as the cool October air kissed your cheeks, a perfect backdrop to your blossoming romance. As you approached the biology building, Andrei paused, his thumb tracing circles on the back of your hand.

"So, tonight?" he asked, his voice hopeful. "You're free, right?"

"I am not," you laughed, your eyes sparkling. "But I'll make an exception for you." You had a study group for the MCAT later tonight, but you figured you could spare a couple of hours.

Andrei's face lit up. "Really? Does that mean I'm special?"

You rolled your eyes but couldn't hide your smile. "Bye Andrei," you said, pulling your hand away gently. "See you tonight." You turned to enter the building, feeling his eyes on you until you disappeared from his view.

The day passed in a blur of classes and study groups. You couldn't help but think about the date you had agreed to, your thoughts drifting to what you should wear and what you would do. You had texted Andrei all day, your messages light and flirty, filled with anticipation for the night ahead. Finally, the evening came and with it, the realization that you had to tell your study group you couldn't make it. You bit your lip nervously as you sent the text, half expecting them to be upset, but they only responded with a string of texts congratulating you on taking a well-deserved break.

When Andrei arrived to pick you up, he was dressed casually in a short-sleeved button-up and jeans, looking like he had put in more effort than your usual hangouts. His dark hair was gelled, the straight strands tamed to your liking. His eyes swept over you, taking in your own carefully chosen outfit of straight leg jeans and a square-neck top, giving you an appreciative nod. "You look amazing," he said, his voice soft with nerves. You felt a rush of heat creep up your neck, but you took his compliment as he pulled you into a hug.

The two of you walked to the local Indian restaurant that you had both mentioned you loved but had never gone to together. The warm glow of the lights spilled out onto the sidewalk, mingling with the cool evening air. Inside, the smell of sizzling meats and ginger filled the space, making your mouth water. Andrei held the door open for you, and you couldn't help but notice the way his hand lingered on the small of your back as he guided you to a cozy booth.

"Thank you," you said, slipping into the booth across from Andrei.

The conversation flowed easily over dinner, filled with stories from your classes and shared laughs at the absurdity of your college experiences. Andrei had always been a gentle conversationalist, listening intently to every word you spoke and responding with thoughtfulness that made you feel seen. Despite the three years you had known each other, it was as if you were discovering each other for the first time, peeling back layers that had been hidden beneath the surface of friendship.

"So, what's your go-to?" Andrei asked, his eyes scanning the extensive menu.

You thought for a moment before saying, "Butter chicken and garlic naan, every time." You glanced up to find him looking at you with an amused expression. "What?"

Andrei chuckled. "It's just that everyone says that. It's like the safest bet here."

You scoffed playfully. "Maybe it's because it's the best thing on the menu."

The waiter arrived, and you placed your orders. The conversation turned to your costumes and the wild night you had shared. Andrei leaned in, his eyes twinkling. "Javi and Faith disappeared for, like, two hours, bro." You couldn't help but laugh, remembering your friends' unabashed PDA. "They're so in love," you said, a hint of wistfulness in your tone.

Andrei reached across the table and took your hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. "But we had fun too," he said, his thumb tracing circles on your palm. The warmth of his touch sent a shiver down your spine. You nodded, smiling, and you shared a moment of understanding that this was just the beginning of something special between you.

"Yeah, we did," you said, your voice a bit softer. Andrei's touch was reassuring, a reminder that you weren't alone in navigating this new chapter of your changing relationship.

The waiter returned drink refills, breaking the momentary silence. Andrei took a sip of his water, his eyes gazing into yours. "So, what do you want to do after dinner?"

You felt a thrill at the casualness of the question. "There's an after dinner?" you teased, raising an eyebrow. Andrei chuckled, his grip on your hand tightening slightly.

"Always," he said, his smile warm. "But, I was thinking something low-key. Maybe we could grab some ice cream and walk around the quad?"

You nodded eagerly. "That sounds perfect."

The rest of dinner passed by in a blur of delicious food and easy conversation. You shared stories, laughed, and enjoyed each other's company in a way that was both familiar and new. When the plates were cleared and the check paid, Andrei suggested you go to the local ice cream parlor that was open late for the Princeton crowd.

As you stepped outside into the brisk night air, Andrei put his arm around your shoulders. You leaned into him, feeling the warmth of his body and the comfort of his embrace. The quad was lit by soft, yellow lamps that cast long shadows across the cobblestone walkways. The sound of your footsteps echoed through the quiet night as you made your way to the ice cream shop.

The bell chimed as you pushed open the door, and the familiar smell of waffle cones and sugary treats greeted the two of you. The place was mostly empty, save for a few other students cramming for exams or enjoying a late-night study break. Andrei ordered mint chocolate chip while you went with your usual, a classic vanilla on a waffle cone. You found a small table by the window and sat down, watching the occasional person stroll by.

You took a bite of your ice cream, savoring the sweetness that melted on your tongue. "So, what came over you last night? You've had this crush since freshman year?" you asked playfully, nudging him with your elbow.

Andrei's cheeks reddened slightly, and he took a moment before responding. "I don't know. I just couldn't hold it in anymore. I've seen you with other guys, and it always made me feel... jealous, I guess." He took a deep breath and met your gaze. "But when you walked out in your costume, looking like that..." He trailed off, his voice thick with unspoken feelings.

You felt your cheeks warm at his admission. You had never seen this soft, romantic side of Andrei, and it was endearing. You leaned in closer, your voice low and earnest. "So you liked it?"

Andrei swallowed hard before nodding. "Yeah, I liked it a lot," he said, his eyes searching yours for confirmation. "A lot," he emphasized with a laugh. You couldn't help but join in, feeling a wave of relief wash over you.

The two of you enjoyed your ice cream, sharing bites and smiles, until the cold started to seep into your bones. Andrei suggested he walk you back to your dorm, and you agreed, your heart fluttering at the prospect of more time together. As you strolled under the arching branches of the trees, your laughter mingling with the rustle of leaves, You felt a sense of peace you hadn't experienced in weeks. The stress of your schoolwork had momentarily faded into the background, replaced by the comforting presence of Andrei beside you.

When you reached the steps of your dorm, you turned to face you. "Thank you for dinner," you said, your voice a mix of shyness and sincerity.

Andrei's gaze searched yours, his thumb brushing against the back of your hand as he held onto your fingers. "It was my pleasure," he replied, taking a step closer. His eyes flickered to your lips, biting at his own.

"Are you gonna kiss me, Iosivas?" You teased, your voice low and playful. Andrei's eyes widened for a fraction of a second before he leaned in, capturing your lips in a kiss that was a perfect blend of sweet and hungry. You melted into him, your arms winding around his neck as his free hand rested on your lower back, pulling you closer. The night air was cool, but the warmth from his body and the heat of your kiss made you feel as if you were floating.

When you finally pulled apart, Andrei's eyes searched yours, looking for any hint of doubt or hesitation. You felt none. Instead, you felt a thrilling rush of excitement for the future of your relationship. "Come upstairs?" you whispered, your heart racing. Andrei nodded, and you climbed the stairs to your dorm hand in hand, the weight of your decision hanging in the air.

In your room, the quiet was a stark contrast to the noise of the previous night. The lights were soft, and the space felt intimate. The two of you kicked off your shoes before you moved to your vinyl rack, selecting a record to play on your vintage record player. The sound of Stevie Wonder filled the room, a soft melody that seemed to wrap around you as he stood there awkwardly, unsure of what came next.

You laughed as you turned back to see Andrei standing there, his eyes wide. "You okay?" you asked, taking his hand and leading him to your bed. You both sat down, and you scooted closer, the mattress squeaking slightly beneath you.

Andrei took a deep breath, his eyes never leaving yours. "Yeah, just... I never thought we'd actually ever do this," he said, his voice a bit shaky.

You leaned in and kissed him again, your hands cupping his face. "Well, we're doing it now," you whispered, feeling the tension between you build.

Andrei's hands found their way around your waist, his grip firm but gentle. You kissed slowly, exploring each other's mouths, tasting the sweetness of the mint chocolate chip and vanilla on your tongues. Your hands traveled up to his neck, playing with the hair at the nape, feeling the muscles beneath his shirt tense and relaxing with every touch.

The record played on, Stevie Wonder's voice serenading your tentative exploration. Andrei pulled away to look at you, his eyes searching for permission. You nodded, a smile playing on your lips. He leaned in again, kissing you more urgently this time. His hands began to roam, tracing the lines of your body, his thumbs grazing the tops of your thighs. The heat from his touch was making it increasingly difficult for you to think about anything other than him. One of his hands reached for your jean-clad thigh, his fingertips brushing searing heat into your skin.

Your breath hitched, and you leaned into him, your hands sliding under his shirt to feel the warmth of his bare chest. His skin was smooth, his muscles firm under your touch. He groaned softly, the sound sending a shiver down your spine. You kissed deeper, your bodies moving closer together as if magnetized. Andrei's hand pulled the thigh under his grasp over his lap, shifting your weight so that you were straddling him. The music continued setting the tempo for your escalating passion.

Breaking away from the kiss, Andrei looked into your eyes, his own filled with a mix of desire and anticipation. "Is this okay?" he murmured, his voice low and gravelly. You nodded, your breath shallow and your chest heaving. You leaned back slightly, giving him the space he needed to remove your shirt. The cool air kissed your skin, and you watched as his eyes darkened with want.

"Damn," Andrei murmured, his voice thick with arousal. He reached up, tracing the edge of your lacy bra with the thumbs. You felt a rush of heat pool in your stomach, and you bit your lower lip to stifle a moan. His attention was pulled to the roll of your hips as you whimpered, the fabric of your jeans rubbing against him deliciously.

Andrei leaned back, his eyes stuck on yours as he unzipped your pants. You helped him slide them down, and you were left in just your panties and bra. He took a moment to drink you in, his eyes lingering on the way your breasts heaved with every breath you took. "You're so beautiful," he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

Your heart raced as you felt his hands skim your skin. You leaned in and kissed him again, your hands working at the buttons of his shirt. You were both fumbling, a mix of excitement and nerves getting the better of you. The fabric of his shirt gave way, revealing his well-defined chest. His abs rippled under the soft light, and you couldn't help but trace the lines of his stomach muscles with your fingernails, causing him to suck in a breath. You ran your hands over the ink on his shoulder, feeling his muscles under your fingertips.

You moved together in a silent dance of desire, your kisses growing more urgent as your hands explored. You, growing impatient with the layers between the two of you, pushed Andrei's torso back onto the bed. He chuckled against your mouth, the sound vibrating through you. With a playful smirk, you trailed your kisses down his chest, your teeth lightly grazing his skin, making him hiss in pleasure.

Your eyes searched for any sign of protest, but all you saw was the fire that matched the one burning within you. You continued to work your kisses downward, your hands fumbling with the button and zipper of his pants. With a groan, Andrei lifted his hips, helping you free him from the fabric of his boxer briefs. You took a moment to appreciate the sight of him, his tip glistening with need, and you couldn't resist leaning in to kiss him there softly, causing him to jolt in surprise.

"Shit!" Andrei cursed, his voice strained with pleasure, as your lips wrapped around his dick. You giggled against him, feeling empowered by his reaction. You took the angry red tip into your mouth, your eyes still locked on his, watching as his expression morphed from shock to pure ecstasy. His hands found your braids, his grip tightening as you moved your head up and down, your tongue swirling around him. His breath grew ragged, and you knew you had him right where you wanted him.

He moaned, his eyes fluttering shut as he kept your hair out of your face, thrusting his hips upward to meet your mouth. You took him deeper, the warmth of your mouth enveloping him, your tongue playing with the vein on the underside of his shaft. Your hand slipped inside his boxers, your palm cupping his balls, rolling them gently as you sucked him off.

You released him with a pop, looking up at him with a seductive heat in your eyes, watching his face contort in agonizing pleasure as you began to stroke him with a self-indulgent smile. “Fuck, princess,” his eyes opened as he released a loud moan, groaning again as his thighs trembled under your touch.

You giggled at the pet name tumbling from his pink lips. You dipped your head, your lips closing around his tip, your hand still moving to jerk his shaft up and down steadily. His eyes rolled back as his hands stilled, their grip tightening on your braids and keeping them back in a makeshift ponytail.

Andrei couldn't believe it. The girl he'd crushed on for so long was giving him the best blowjob he had ever had. He could feel his orgasm building, his body tensing with every stroke of your tongue. He didn't want it to end, but he also couldn't wait to be inside you. With a reluctant groan, he pulled you back up and kissed you deeply, tasting himself on your lips.

Your eyes sparkled with mischief as you straddled him, your own need growing more intense with every passing second. You reached for the bedside drawer and pulled out a condom, tossing it to him with a grin. Andrei's hands trembled slightly as he nervously struggled with the packaging.

You giggled as you watched him, your nails gently scratching at his chest in an attempt to ground yourself. "Let me," you offered. "Here," you said, taking the condom from his hand.

You tore open the packet with your teeth and slid it onto him with a smooth, practiced ease that made Andrei's eyes widen in amazement. He watched as you positioned yourself above him, one hand on his chest for balance as the other trailed down to pull your underwear to the side.

"Ready?" You asked, your voice husky and filled with anticipation. Andrei nodded, his eyes never leaving yours as you lowered your weight onto him. He felt himself enter you, the tightness of you making him groan. You were wet and hot, and the sensation was unlike anything he had ever experienced. His hands found your hips, holding you still against him as you both adjusted to the feeling.

"Fuck, yes," Andrei murmured as you began to move again, sinking deeper onto him, taking him in inch by inch. Your eyes never left his, watching the pleasure etch lines across his face. When you were fully seated on him, you both took a moment to savor the feeling of your bodies joined together, the culmination of your years of flirtation and unspoken longing.

"I'm not gonna last," Andrei warned, his voice strained with desire as he watched your body begin to move.

You smiled, your rhythm slow and deliberate. "You don't have to," you whispered, your voice a sultry purr in his ear, "Just feel me."

And so he did. Andrei felt every inch of you as you began to ride him, your movements growing more urgent with every stroke. Your nails dug into his chest, leaving half-moons in his skin. His own hips began to lift to meet yours, the base of his cock smacking against you with each thrust. The friction was almost too much, and he had to bite down on his lip to keep from losing it too quickly.

The music played on, the beat syncing with your movements. As you bounced on him, Andrei's hands wandered to your breasts, tweaking your nipples through the lace of your bra. You gasped as a strap fell down your shoulder, your head rolling back in pleasure. He sat up, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you closer, his mouth finding your neck. You tilted your head to the side, giving him better access as his teeth scraped your sensitive skin, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake.

Your breathing grew ragged as your pace increased. The bed creaked beneath you, melding with the rhythm of your bodies. Andrei could feel himself getting closer to the edge, his core tightening in anticipation. Your walls tightened around him, your breath hitching as you felt his strength shift to guide your hips, setting a tempo that sent shockwaves of pleasure through your core.

"Andrei," you panted, your nails digging into his shoulders as you leaned back, your arms reaching back to rest on his outstretched legs. Your breasts bounced with each upward movement on his lap as he controlled your pace, brown eyes connecting in the heat of your passion. His eyes trailed down to your chest, watching the mesmerizing sight, his arms flexing as he slowed the speed of your hips, taking a moment to capture your lips in a kiss as he rocked your hips agonizingly slow over his.

Your eyes rolled back in your head, your breath coming in short gasps as you felt yourself building up to the edge. Andrei's kisses grew more demanding, his tongue delving into your mouth as his hands moved down to your ass, guiding your movements. He felt your walls tighten around him, the wetness of your sex coating his dick, and he knew you were close.

"Fuck—oh, yeah, yes," Andrei groaned against your neck, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin just below your ear. His grip tightened as you began to bounce faster, your breath coming in ragged pants. You could feel him twitch inside you, his hips becoming more erratic as he lost control.

The tension grew, your bodies moving in perfect harmony. Your moans grew louder, filling the room. Andrei couldn't hold back anymore, his head dipped to press his lips to the valley between your breasts. With a stifled moan against your chest, he buried himself deep inside you, feeling his orgasm rip through his body and spill warmly into the condom.

"Oh, shit," Andrei breathed out, his body trembling as he held onto you tightly, feeling the aftershocks of his climax. "Gimme a second," he managed, his chest heaving. You giggled as you ran your nails up and down his back, enjoying the feeling of his skin against your own. You leaned down and kissed him softly, your breath warm against his cheek.

Your own orgasm was just around the corner. Andrei could feel it in the way you clenched around him, your breath hitching in your throat. He kissed your neck, his teeth grazing your skin as he lifted you from his dick. He turned your body, pressing your back against his chest as he fell back against the sheets of your bed with an athleticism that should not have surprised you as much as it did.

"What are you doing?" You gasped, feeling a new wave of arousal as Andrei's strong hands gripped your thighs, spreading you open. He kissed your neck, shushing you with a gentle nip of his teeth. "Let me take care of you," he murmured, his breath hot against your skin.

With your legs open wide, Andrei's hands moved to caress your inner thighs, his fingers lightly brushing against your slick folds as he pulled your panties to the side once again. He watched your face contort with pleasure as he touched you, exploring you with a gentle curiosity. The pad of his finger found your clit, and you gasped, arching your back into his touch. He circled the sensitive bud, feeling your pulse beneath his fingertip.

Your breath grew shallow as Andrei's ministrations grew more intense. Your hips began to rock against his hand, seeking relief from the delicious pressure building within you. He could feel the heat of you against him, your body begging for more. His mouth found your neck, his lips nipping and kissing the soft skin as he worked his thumb in slow, deliberate circles.

"Fuck, Andrei," you whispered, your voice thick with pleasure. Your head raised briefly to watch as a finger dipped to enter you, the wetness of your arousal making it easy for him to slide in and out of you. He curled his finger inside you before adding another one, feeling your tightness clench around him and your breath hitched.

"Feels good?" he asked, his voice gruff as he watched your reaction. You could only moan in response, your head falling back again. The sensation was maddening, the way he filled you up and then left you empty only to fill you again. One of your hands found his thick hair, your nails scratching gently at his scalp as the other reached down to guide his fingers inside of you, pressing it harder into the sensitive bundle of nerves. Andrei's unoccupied hand moved from its spot on your dark thighs, running upwards to squeeze your breasts, his thumb playing with your nipple, the lace scraping against your skin.

Your movements grew more frantic, your breathing shallower, your body writhing against him. He felt you tense, your pussy contracting around his fingers, and knew you were close. He picked up his pace, his thumb flicking your clit in a way that made your back arch and your toes curl.

Pressing a kiss to your shoulder, Andrei whispered in your ear, "Go ahead, princess." His voice was a command wrapped in velvet, sending a shiver down your spine. With one final thrust of his fingers, you came apart. Your body tensed, muscles contracting, as you climaxed around his fingers. Your moan was muffled by your hand, your eyes screwed shut. He watched you, fascinated by the way you came apart in his arms, the way you clenched around him, your body begging for more.

As you rode out your orgasm, your breathing slowing, Andrei pulled his hand away, bringing his fingers to your mouth.

"Taste yourself," he said, his voice a low growl that sent a fresh wave of heat through you. Your eyes snapped open, meeting his dark gaze. Without hesitation, you took his fingers into your mouth, suckling them clean. The taste was foreign yet intimate, and it only served to make you want more of him.

The two of you lay there, panting and sweaty, your bodies tangled together. Andrei's arms were wrapped around you, holding you close as if you were something precious, something to be cherished. You felt a warmth spread through your chest, a feeling you hadn't felt in a long time. It was more than just the afterglow of great sex; it was a connection that you hadn't realized was missing in your life.

You stayed that way for a while, just basking in the intimacy of the moment, your hearts beating in sync with the fading bass of the music outside. Eventually, you turned your body over in his arms to face him, your hand tracing the lines of his jaw, your thumb brushing against his full bottom lip.

Andrei brought you back down, pressing your front against his. "Thank you, for this," he said, his voice gruff and sincere. He kissed your forehead, your cheek, and finally your lips. It was a gentle kiss, one that spoke of affection and something deeper than the physical connection you just shared.

Your heart swelled, and you kissed him back with equal passion. "Thank you," you murmured, your eyes searching his. You could see the emotions swirling in his gaze—desire, relief, and a hint of vulnerability you hadn't expected from the usually laidback multi-sport athlete. It was endearing, and you found yourself smiling against his mouth.

Lifting your chest from his, your nails gently raked up and down his abs, your thighs straddling his hips. "I’ll be right back," you whispered, breaking the spell. Andrei's grip loosened, and he nodded, a lazy smile playing on his lips as he watched you move away from the bed. You walked to the bathroom, your legs feeling like jelly. Your chest ached at the loss of his warm touch.

You took care of yourself, then looked in the mirror, your makeup melting slightly from the heat of your encounter. You attempted to calm yourself, washing what was left of your makeup away with your makeup wipes, your eyes bright with excitement. You took a deep breath, trying to gather your thoughts, but they remained a jumbled mess of pleasure and wonder.

When you emerged, Andrei was still laying in your bed, his bare chest rising and falling with his steady breaths. He looked up as you approached, the smile on his face growing as he reached for you. "You okay?" he asked, his voice filled with genuine concern.

"Yeah, I'm good," you said, climbing back in beside him. He pulled you closer, your head resting on his chest, listening to the rhythm of his heart. "Where the fuck did you learn that?" You asked after a beat, your voice muffled by his skin.

Andrei laughed out loud, the tension leaving his body, his fingers caressing your skin softly. "I have my ways," he replied with a smug grin, not giving anything away. You smacked his chest playfully, Andrei’s cheeks flushed from your encounter.

"Ow, asshole," he huffed, feigning pain.

The two of you laid there, your bodies cooling down but the warmth of your connection remained. Finally finding the strength to lift yourself off Andrei's chest, you reached for his phone on the nightstand. Flicking his flashlight on, you directed the light to his face. His flushed cheeks and swollen lips made him look even more handsome than you had ever seen him.

He squinted under the strength of the light, groaning with dissatisfaction. “Dude… what the fuck?”

With a giggle you moved your attention to the rest of his face, "You have makeup all over your face," you pointed out, wiping away the remnants of your gloss from his lips.

Andrei's smile grew wider, his eyes bright with mischief. "Worth it," he murmured, sitting up to kiss you again.

"Let's get you cleaned up," you said, standing up from the bed to reach for Andrei's forgotten button-up. You smiled to yourself as Andrei watched you with a lazy grin, his eyes tracing your every move. Your fingers moved gracefully across the material, pulling your hands through the sleeves while Andrei stepped into his boxers.

In the bathroom, the warm light cast a glow on your half-dressed bodies as you crowded around the mirror. Andrei lifted you to sit on the counter, catching you by surprise, your legs dangling as he stepped between them, his underwear hanging low on his hips, his silver chain glittering against his tanned skin. He leaned into your touch, you beginning to clean him up. You were meticulous, your movements tender as you wiped away smudges of foundation and the rest of your lip gloss from his face. His eyes swept over your face, committing your post-sex glow to memory as you worked diligently.

"You're so beautiful," Andrei murmured, his eyes tracing the lines of your face as you focused on removing the last of your makeup from his face. You ducked your head, trying to hide your smile.

"You're just saying that because I gave you head," you teased, your voice light and playful.

He leaned in, kissing your neck gently, his stubble scraping against your skin. "Best head of my life," he conceded, making you laugh and shove him away.

Andrei stepped back between your legs, his hands resting on your knees. "But seriously, you're stunning, princess." The use of the pet name again drew a shy smile out of you again. His words were sincere, and you could feel his eyes on you as you worked to clean off the last smudges of makeup from his face. You felt the tug of your smile against your lips, but you didn't look away from the task at hand.

When you were done, you tossed the wipe into the trash and leaned back against the mirror, looking at him with a soft expression. "What now?" you asked, your voice still playful despite the weight of your earlier conversation.

Andrei's expression grew more serious, his hands stilling on your thighs. "Now, we do this right." He paused, searching your eyes for any hesitation. "I don't want this to just be a one-time thing. I want to date you, for real."

Your heart skipped a beat at his words. "Okay," you said, your voice a breathless whisper.

"Okay?" Andrei teased, a smile playing at the corners of his mouth, hands squeezing your plush thighs softly.

"Yes, John Green. Okay," you scoffed with a roll of your eyes, your voice filled with excitement as you leaned in to kiss him again, this time with more passion. Andrei wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you closer as your kiss deepened. You broke apart, both of you grinning like fools.

"So, we're dating?" You asked, your voice filled with a mix of disbelief and happiness. Andrei nodded, a soft smile playing on his lips. "I've liked you for a long time. And if you're willing to put up with me and all my shit, then I'm all in."

"And what if I'm the one with the shit?" You countered, raising an eyebrow. He laughed, a deep, rumbling sound that made your stomach flutter. "Then I'll just have to be extra patient."

You couldn't help but feel a surge of excitement at the prospect, leaning in to kiss Andrei again. This time, there was no teasing or heat, just the sweetness of two people discovering each other on a deeper level. His arms tightened around you, and you felt yourself melting into him. It was a perfect moment, one you hadn't allowed yourself to dream of.

He lifted you off the counter, setting you on your feet, and you both took a moment to look into each other's eyes, the gravity of your decision settling in. The room was filled with an electrifying silence that seemed to crackle with anticipation. You felt your heart racing as you stared into his brown eyes quietly. With a sudden movement, Andrei bent down to pick you up bridal style, making you squeal with laughter as he carried you to the bed, flicking the light switch in the bathroom off.

The room was bathed in the soft glow of the moonlight coming in through the window. He laid you down gently, the mattress sinking under your combined weight. The two of you shared another kiss, slower this time, savoring the moment. You felt the warmth of Andrei's skin against yours, and you knew you had made the right choice. You had never felt so alive, so seen, and so desired.

You settled against the sheets, the laughter fading into a comfortable silence. Andrei's hand caressed your side. His eyes fluttered closed as he felt your softness next to him, he knew he never wanted to let go of this feeling.

As you drifted off to sleep in his arms, you whispered, "Don't fuck this up for me, Iosivas. I really like you."

Andrei chuckled, kissing your forehead. "I'll do my best, princess."

#&. cassie writes.#andrei iosivas #andrei iosivas fic #andrei iosivas fanfic #andrei iosivas x reader #andrei iosivas imagine #andrei iosivas fluff #andrei iosivas x fem!reader #cincinnati bengals #bengals #cincinnati football #black!fem!reader #x black fem reader #x black reader #black!reader #black reader

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mkmas · 1 day ago

Text

Jude Jazza - A story about a ruthless and arrogant man and an unfulfilled promise (JP ECB)

as usual I don’t own the story or characters, they belong to cybird. some things might’ve translated not as smoothly but i tried to get close to the original tone + eng isn’t my first language so forgive any mistakes ;-; also beware of some spoilers about his backstory

I wonder when it happened.

When my sister was still alive, she and I had a high fever.

(I was in so much pain l felt like I was dying.)

(I remember her asking me to distract her from the agony of the high fever.)

Jude: “What do you want to do when you’re rich?”

It was a playful way to forget, even for a moment, the pain of the day.

Jude’s younger sister: “Anything?”

Jude: “Sure.”

The pained look on my sister's face breaks into a little smile of joy.

Jude’s younger sister: “If that's the case, let's see… I want to go to the moon!”

My sister's eyes, which are the same amethyst color as mine, look towards the highest point in the sky. There, like a jewel dropped into the deep sea, there was a round moon floating in the jet black.

(...... Ha, the moon.)

Jude: "Idiot, even if I had that kind of money I can’t do that.”

(I've never heard of humans going to the moon.)

Jude’s younger sister: “But the Queen’s got the whole world on her palm, right?”

Jude’s younger sister: "If we can go around the world, can't we go to the moon?"

How much money does the Queen have? As I was thinking about whether it was really possible to go to the moon with that kind of money...

Jude’s younger sister: "Hey, brother, promise me. When you become rich, take me to the moon."

A human being going to the moon is a dream too ridiculous to be true. But my sister, who might die tomorrow, needed hope at this moment.

Jude: "I got it. I'll use money, magic, anything to get you there.”

Jude’s younger sister: “Brother, it's lame to think you can use magic.”

Jude: “Keep quiet.”

Jude’s younger sister: "I'm going to go to the moon. I have to get well soon."

Jude: “That's right. We have to get you better."

Only when I was with my sister, I felt something like the outline of happiness. Every time her small hand grasped mine, a warm feeling spread across my chest. But before the feeling of happiness could develop, I always felt sorry for her. Just when I was thinking that one day I would make my sister happy. She was bought with money, and then she died after.

And then I - I swore revenge.

By the time I started my trading company upon graduating from public school, I had the noblemen who killed my sister completely by the scruff of the neck.

Even though they were already busy dealing with taxes, it piled up even more with debt.

-- After their mansion and land were all seized, I went to meet the people who bought my sister.

Jude: “Thank you very much for your time.”

Nobleman: "W-what are you? W-Wa...!"

I grabbed the hair of the most pompous looking nobleman sitting in the chair as hard as I can.

Jude: “You guys are the ones who buy poor children and make them do bad things."

Jude: “There's no point in trying to make excuses. Everything can be backed up."

The nobleman’s eyes widen as I flung the report that contains numerous misdeeds I’ve already investigated.

I dragged him down and stamped on his head as hard as I can with my shoe.

Jude: "Confess. A few years ago, you bought a kid with asthma from a longshoreman."

Nobleman: “Well that’s… Uh.”

Jude: “Confess…!”

No matter how much I hurt them, the noblemen didn't speak.

Then I realized.

They really don’t remember.

When I threatened the servant, he trembled and spilled everything.

Servant: “I buried so many people in the garden that I can't remember who's who…”

When I headed for the garden of the beautiful mansion, I found that only one corner had been dug up in an unnatural manner.

Jude: “…….”

-- So so many. I sit in front of one of the piles and gently touched it with my fingertips.

Jude: “Brother is here... Answer me.”

I didn’t hear anything.

I didn’t even know if she was here.

All I know is that it was already too late.

So then I introduced the nobles to my father and brother, who were still working at the port, sipping muddy water.

(Isn't it great to do hard physical labor with the person you sold your daughter to?)

I had my subordinates watch over as they were weakened by the humiliation of the harsh labor.

I did nothing, I just watched.

Soon after, the nobles, my father, and my brother were all dead.

I killed them all.

-……De.

-……Jude.

Ellis: “Jude.”

(Ellis….?)

(……Ah, I fell asleep.)

It seems that because I didn't get enough sleep, I passed out while sitting.

(--- Even if it's)

Ellis: “What kind of dream was it?”

Jude: “Hah?”

Ellis: “You sounded like you had a nightmare.”**

Jude: “It was a shitty dream.”

Ellis: “I see. Jude is unhappy even in his dreams.”

Jude: “Shut up dumbass.”

Ellis smiles and looks somewhere else.

When I followed Ellis' line of sight, I saw a full moon floating there.

Ellis: "I guess Jude won't be happy until he gets to that moon."

(I know the truth. Even if I went to that moon, I wouldn't be happy.)

My sister whom I promised to is dead.

I can't take her to the moon.

The crazy dream I have is a promise that will never come true.

Ellis: "Hey, Jude. Can you breathe on the moon?"

Jude: “Ah?”

Ellis: "I'm just worried if Jude dies there before I can kill him."

Jude: “You really are fucking crazy. It can’t be helped.”

Still, I only have this promise.

That's why—.

(Someday I'll go to the moon.)

**Just in case this small detail matters (not really but) he was making sounds like people usually having nightmares do. i bet he gets these nightmares often;-;**

*If anything got deleted and i didn’t notice it’s probably tumblr being weird on my ipad bc of storage ahajaj)

TN: OK wow after reading his backstories… my crack theory about jude and the moon some time ago turned out to be at least 70% right? also jude has always been pretty snarky/sarcastic haha even to his younger sister (a little) i have a loooot of thoughts on his backstory but ill dump it after finishing his route. it really is dark and horrible how the rich people bought children and just…. did all that…. i support jude torturing crazy nobles 🙂‍↕️

#jude jazza #ikemen villains #ikevil #ikevil jude

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yourstarstruckbeloved · 3 days ago

Text

kriti; an ode to devotion

dr. ratio x fem!reader, in which ratio finds himself absolutely smitten for a musician from earth.

content/warnings: 1.4k words, reader is very very feminine, referred to with she/her, reader is also indian and a maestro at indian classical music, i made this purely as a self-indulgent self-insert piece, religious imagery/writing, good ol’ potential ooc dr. ratio warning, he does not know ANYTHING about indian classical music or hindu culture, a few sanskrit terms used

author’s note: aaaah i can’t stop thinking about how dr. ratio would absolutely just fall in love with people passionate for their lines of work. i know this is pretty much just a self insert of my own but the thought of ratio with an s/o devoted to music or dance is so... <3

ratio feels like he’s sighed for the millionth time today. “didn’t you find someone else to do your bidding, gambler?” his question is met with a resounding and joyful nope! from aventurine, who drags him into the crowded theatre. “i had two tickets for this show because my friend was very kind. but no one else could make it on such short notice,” the blonde says, the smile never leaving his face. “so, i’m glad you came with me, doctor. ah! two empty seats! lucky us, eh?”

“whatever.”

ratio can’t say he’s the biggest fan of music— he dabbles in it from time to time, but nothing too much. it it weren’t for the gambler’s insistence, he would currently have been home and indulging in a relaxing bath; but alas, aventurine always gets what he wants. “i’m surprised you even have friends with a personality as repulsive as yours.”

“that hurt, you know,” aventurine says, clutching at his chest and forcing a pained expression onto his face. “do you really think i’m that bad?”

“no, i just think you are an idiot. or that the friends you have are equally as repulsive as you.”

the chatter around him turns into static white noise and he stares emptily at the blank stage, numbers and letters going left and right and center in his brain. the frustrating proof that the doctor had been trying to work on for weeks now is making a resurgence in his head. well, on second thought, maybe it’s not so bad that he got dragged out… perhaps, the doctor could make use of this opportunity to unplug and relax a bit. maybe the gambler isn’t so much of an idiot after all (aventurine knows, but he won’t let up).

ratio is snapped out of his daze as the curtains draw to a close, the stage now hidden behind them. a good portion of the crowd silences, in anticipation of the performance that was about to begin any second now. he heaves a sigh when the curtains reopen, a subconsciously bated breath being released.

in the middle of the stage sits a woman wearing a rich blue… robe? stole? no, it’s probably a saree, he surmises. “that’s her!” aventurine says excitedly with a gasp. “do you see her, doctor?” the soft light falling on the woman seems to reflect off of her in a subtle shine. almost like an ethereal goddess... “yes, i do, aventurine, i am not blind. i’m actually surprised you have friends from earth, of all planets.”

and ratio truly was genuinely surprised— not because he truly believed that aventurine’s personality would be an obstacle between him and his friendships, but because as far as he knew, earth was one of those tiny planets in a remote arm of the milky way galaxy. the people of earth tended to have their own cultures and gods that they worshipped instead of the aeons, and all of this differed widely between major regions on the planet. the… earthlings? well, in any case, they rarely ever travelled outside of their home planet— the maximum they usually ever went was within their planetary system. maybe they’re finally beginning to get out of their comfort zone? no one knows for sure.

the chatter of the crowd gradually dies down as three others assemble next to the woman with their instruments. she takes a sip from the bottle that lay next to her, and ratio notices the slight motion she makes with her hand. he assumes this was to get the show going, because the instrumentalists began playing their parts. they start with a monotonous and constant drone, after which the other stringed instrumentalist joins along with the harmonium player— and finally, you. ratio finds his interest piqued— he does not know much about earth and its customs and cultures.

you take a breath and you start singing. you start off slow and mellow, but ratio can feel the intensity and tempo of the performance gradually increasing— and with it, the intricacies of phrases that you’re singing. he finds it infuriatingly captivating, the way you jump through the chromatic scale with ease, like a deer prancing about in the forest. he wonders if you speak in melody.

ratio swears it’s the most masterful thing he’s ever listened to. he’s never listened to this kind of music ever in his life before, he knows nothing. it’s not as big as a choir or orchestra— and yet, he finds it amazing, the ease with which you conduct everyone with a flick of your hand. no… it’s not conducting. it seemed too unauthoritative to be. honestly, he has a lot of questions but for now he lets himself think of it simply for what it probably was— a well coordinated performance (and he would not be wrong to think of it that way either).

the skillful gliding of your voice has ratio enamoured. he finds it impressive, how easily you seem to be gliding over three octaves of notes without breaking out into as much as a sweat. he can only imagine the years and years of practice that must have gone into gaining such mastery— you make it look as easy as breathing. he would be lying if he said he didn’t find it attractive to some degree at the very least.

it takes him completely by surprise when you look in his direction and shoot your biggest most saccharine smile ever. and then he remembers about your supposed friendship with the man next to him and realises that it wasn’t for him. the gambler wasn’t lying, eh? who was ratio kidding, you didn’t even know him.

but he’s starting to become far gone. ratio isn’t a sapiosexual or whatever, by any means, even if he comes off as such. he knows that people think he would only be willing to date someone who has more phds than he does, but that’s not true at all. ratio believes that one must be passionate about anything that they choose to do. ultimately, that’s really what gets him hooked. he’s absolutely taking delight in looking at the fruits of your years of devotion to your art. and you, your performance is so enchanting it almost hurts. he feels like a dazed sailor drawn to a siren.

heh, it wouldn’t be so bad if the siren was you, he thinks, but immediately cringes at the thought afterward, discarding it into some corner of his brain he hopes to never see again.

oh, aventurine isn’t blind to any of this. he looks at the doctor’s eyes glued onto the stage with hyperfocus, and laughs. he doesn’t miss the way his grip on the armrests grow tighter and tighter, the flexing and tensing of his muscles obvious. who would’ve thought that his musician friend from earth of all people would’ve had the doctor whipped? he supposes it wasn’t a bad decision to bring ratio along, after all.

the audience bursts into thunderous clapping once you hit the end of your performance. ratio almost thought there was going to be no end to it— not that he’d complain though, it would’ve given him more time to study your performance, your art, more time to study you. “that was… that was a splendid performance. i wasn’t expecting to find myself hooked onto a musical of all things, seems like you aren’t completely bad, gambler.” ratio is completely candid with his compliment.

“oh, i know how much you enjoyed this,” aventurine says rather suggestively, catching the doctor off-guard. “hey, i’m going into the backstage to meet her— would you like to tag along?”

ratio is elated at the offer. of course he’d want to meet you, he’s got so many questions and— “sure…” his expression remains as stoic as ever. he’s always been able to count on himself but now? he hopes his deadpan image isn’t betrayed by his feelings, and he finds it so impossibly difficult to fight back the smile that’s slowly creeping onto his features as he watches you and aventurine converse like you were best friends reunited.

“this is my friend, doctor ratio!”

“oh, so you’re the doctor that everyone talks about! nice to meet you, i’m _____.”

you knew him already? well, it’s no big deal, you must have heard about him from aventurine. fuck, you look so much more heavenly up close. you’re like the manifestation of a goddess, with the way you seem to literally radiate a glow and everything. shit, if he didn’t know any better, he’d think you were an emanator of beauty, or an incarnation of devi saraswati (he hopes he isn’t thinking of the wrong goddess with his limited knowledge of hindu culture).

“likewise. just veritas is fine, too. that was an absolutely phenomenal performance, back then.”

veritas doesn’t know the first thing about the gods you sung the praises of during your performance, but he does think that your devotion to the art must be unmatched. he feels like you are a personification of the heavens, and he’s blind to everything that isn’t your divine beauty. there’s something so ancient about your art, and you’re almost like an envoy of the gods— aeons, you’re slowly getting him wrapped around your damn finger, and he doesn’t think he’s going to do anything to stop it.

“thank you, veritas,” you smile at him, and he feels a slight warmth. “i’ll be performing again at the grand theatre soon. you’ll be there, right?”

#honkai star rail #honkai star rail x reader #hsr x reader #dr ratio #dr ratio x reader #veritas ratio #veritas ratio x reader #hsr veritas #hsr

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takamiwife · 1 day ago

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Got sick and can not stop coughing at all and yhe worst part is my period started the same time rip

Could i request a lil comfort thing for hawks or dabi comforting the reader who is sick and also feels even worse cause she has rlly bad cramps?

AWW I HOPE YOURE FEELING BETTER :(( sorry this is likely out after you’re all better but this still deserves to be written !! if you’ve submitted something to my inbox dw, i have seen it and it’s in my drafts, im just going in order!! 💞 also, there’s some sex and the city spoilers toward the end of it, for season 3, so just watch out for that if you’re watching it/interested in watching it!

well, sick season was back and hit you full force. you woke up, your throat feeling like it had been scratched by a thousand cats and your nose stuffed. you groaned, your voice barely coming out above a whisper. you shuffled out into the kitchen, nearly passing out from reaching up into the cabinet to get some tea.

“baby? are you okay? you’re up early” keigo yawned, following you out into the kitchen

all it took was for you to turn around, looking at keigo; tired, darkened eyes, puffy cheeks, and your body being able to stand.

“jesus, you definitely are not,” he frowned, putting a hand to your forehead. “you don’t feel like you have a fever… here, come on, sit down,” he guides you over to the couch, watching as you slump against the comfortable throw pillows. he hands you the remote and moves back into the kitchen, immediately making you some tea — you never seemed to have an appetite when you were sick, but hopefully you could handle this.

after adorning your tea with honey, he moved back to the couch, placing them in front of you, replacing the throw pillows with his own body as you lay on his lap.

you whimper, holding your stomach; as if everything else wasn’t bad enough, the universe decided to curse you with cramps too.

he stroked your hair, using a few of his feathers to retrieve the pill bottle from the bathroom, not wanting to move from his position. he opened the red-capped bottle, tapping a few pills into his hand. “here, cmon, you can sit up for me right?” he coos, helping you sit up and make sure you toon the pills, hopefully to at least help with the pain. “there we go, that’s my girl” he smiled

“don’t you have work?” you say quietly, moving your head back down to his lap.

“i can be a little late, they can manage without me. don’t worry about it, alright?” he said softly, running his hands along your side.

now, had you woken up with dabi, it would go a little different.

you lay in your shared bed, surrounded by his scent, but your boyfriend was nowhere to be found. he had been out all night doing.. god knows what with the league, and you had woken up with all of the worst symptoms imaginable. you scrolled on your phone, praying he’d be back soon so he could help you.

luckily, something listened, as he cracked the door open, trying his best to be quiet; a surprisingly sweet gesture from him when he was out all night on missions.

“shit, are you okay?” he kneeled in front of you. “you look awful”

“thanks for the reminder,” you say through a stuffed nose. “my throat is on fire, i can barely breathe through my nose, and of course i have to have fucking cramps..”

“well.. hey, at least you aren’t pregnant” he shrugged

you glare at him, a small part of you finding the silver lining a bit amusing

“can you.. help me, please? you know, like a good boyfriend?” you hide your smile

“uhh…” dabi trailed off, playing with a strand of your hair. of course he wanted to help, he just.. didn’t really know how. he didn’t really get sick, and if he did he just popped whatever pill was in his cabinet and said fuck it and continued on. “yea.. what do you want? we’ve probably got a whole stash somewhere - xanax, percocet, oxy, if you want something a little stronger.. uh, a little coke might not hurt, just rub it on your gums”

“are you insane?” you stare at him blankly. “do you just have, like.. tylenol? midol? anything like that? and not.. crushed up and in a line. in pill form”

“yea, yea, let me go check. pussy..” he muttered, shooting you a smirk.

you used your little strength to smack his arm, unable to hide your smile.

after digging around under his sink, he was finally able to find some normal, non-hard drug tylenol.

he returned to you, holding onto your side as you sat up, taking the pills with a swig of water.

“you uh.. really don’t feel good, do you?”

“you couldn’t tell?” you ask through your scratchy voice.

as you lay back down, he looked at you, your eyes closing as you groaned. he tried to remember back when he was a child; there was a short period of time where he got quite sick during the winter, and his mother was nothing short of a saint. cartoons, warm soup, medicinal tea, cool wash clothes on the forehead.. the whole nine yards. it was clear that what you needed right now was him, and he was more than willing to give that to you.

“c’mere..” he shuffled beside you, pulling you onto his chest. “are you.. hungry? do you want anything warm? that’d help your throat, right?”

“not right now.. just wanna sleep right now..” you say into his chest, and he pulls the warm blanket over you, kissing your head as you fall back asleep, finally sound and able.

now, as you fell back asleep on keigo’s lap, he knew he couldn’t ignore his work any longer or they’d have his head on a spike. in an indiana-jones style move, he replaced his lap with a pillow, draping a blanket over your sleeping form. he kneeled in front of you, watching you sleep as he kissed your forehead.

“i’ll be back soon, okay? i’m sorry i have to leave..” he whispered, brushing some hair away from your face.

luckily, with the day being quite boring, within about three hours of working, he was able to convince his side kicks to take over for the day; “you guys can handle this, i have a sick girlfriend i need to take care of. i mean, what horrible things are going to happen, it’s a random tuesday.”

back at home, you stirred back to life, the pain now having subsided a decent amount. you reach for your phone on the coffee table that sat beside your tea, clicking keigo’s contact. he picked up rather quickly, his voice being a comfort on the other line.

“hey my love, finally awake huh?” you could hear his smile through the screen.

“yea, i just woke up”

“ah, well your throat sounds a bit better. how are the cramps?”

“um, a lot better.. sorry to make you late, but i appreciate you staying with me”

keigo chuckled

“they were fine without me, love. actually, i just left them”

“what? but-“

“but nothing. i’m on my way home, want me to get your favorite?”

you sit up, smiling. “…if it isn’t too much trouble”

“i figured you’d say that. i’m already on my way there. i’ll see you soon, okay?”

“okay.. i love you”

“i love you too”

still being held in dabi’s arms, you slept surprisingly soundly despite everything. he slipped out of your grip, making sure you were comfortable before going to the raggedy kitchen downstairs, searching for anything that could make you feel better. but he was doubtful the crumbs in the dirty cupboards would help much. so, with no other choice, he put on his hoodie and a mask, pulling it up over his nose, less likely to be recognized.

so, after walking a few blocks to the nearest convenience store (that also happened to have a deli), he returned home with your favorite soup, a box of tea bags, and an ice cream bar for you to enjoy later if you felt better. after placing the ice cream in the fridge, he made a nice warm cup of tea (thanks to the help of his quirk) and brought that, along with your soup up to the room, setting it on the bedside table.

“hey,” he shook you gently. “i got you something.”

“mmh.. you’re supposed to let sick people sleep.” you whined.

“fine, go on and sleep, but your soup is gonna get cold”

you opened your eyes; okay, you were quite hungry now. you reluctantly sat up, placing your back against the wall.

“there she is,” he grinned slyly. “morning sunshine” he said, handing you the cup of soup with the plastic spoon. “and there’s um.. tea, too.”

“wow, you really went all out, huh?” you smile from over the cup.

“of course i did. it’s for you, after all.” he brushed it off.

“well, thank you honey.” you coo, gently scratching his chin. damn, he loved when you did that.

he sat beside you, occasionally accepting bites of your soup.

“if i get sick from this, you’re so dead” he

“you’d love me taking care of you, don’t lie”

“…fair enough”

within about forty five minutes, keigo had returned home, takeout bags in hand as you paused your show. he placed them down on the coffee table in front of you, unpacking them.

“thank you, kei. i mean it, really. you didn’t have to do all this.” you say, smiling at him as he came back with plates for the two of you.

“what do you mean? of course i did. i love you, and you didn’t feel good, so of course i had to help you feel better.” he said, placing the food onto a plate and handing it to you.

“well, still-“

“still nothing,” he cut you off, leaning toward you. “you take care of me all the time. this was nothing compared to all you do for me.”

your heart swelled as you stared at his determined face.

“now, catch me up. what’s going on with the girls?” he gestured to the tv.

“well, carrie just cheated on aidan with mr. big…”

after a few hours of lazing about and watching your favorite show on dabi’s phone, he returned to the room with his hands behind his back.

“i got something else for you, too… figured since you’re feeling better..” he pulled out the wrapped ice cream bar, holding it out to you.

“oh, baby..”

“i know it’s not the best, but it could help your throat feel better and.. i dunno, you like ice cream, so..”

you sit up on your knees on the bed, pulling him into a hug.

and as you enjoy your treat, he sits beside you.

“so, feeling better?”

“much. thank you, doctor.” you tease.

“well.. good. i don’t like seeing you like this.”

you lean your head on his shoulder, holding your ice cream up to him.

as much as he hated seeing you sick, dabi loved taking care of you for the day. of course he wanted you to feel better, but.. he wouldn’t mind another day of holding you in bed.

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loveaurapearl · 2 days ago

Text

Wild Life Mechanics

Hey guys, I was thinking about the Mechanics of Wild Life and the theory that the previous winners create the next game. The first thing I want to say is that while Cleo is a winner and we should respect the queen, it's clear that Wild Life wasn't created by her. While she is chaotic and loves to burn things, Wild Life is not a game she would make. She's pretty level-headed and only burns people's bases if they make her mad. She would not choose the next game to have random effects each session. Scar, on the other hand, is completely crazy and would have the games be so chaotic. Sure, Grian and the other Watchers are the ones who decide the game and how it functions, its clear that the winner has some input on how the game is created. Scar even mentioned in his first episode that he and others suggested ideas to implement into the game. He just wasn't sure if Grian put those ideas into use. It's just funny that the mechanics that Grian decided to use directly relate to Scar and the struggles he goes through. And I will be analyzing each Wild Card that we know of for now. (This will be outdated tomorrow since a new episode will come out. But I don't want the idea to disappear from my head, so I'm writing this now.)

The first session had the Shrink and Grow Wildcard and it relates to Scar's sensation of scale. While Scar is 6 ft tall and has known the feeling of being tall, for most of his time, he's in a wheelchair at around 4 ft tall and thus, he is also small. We saw that immediately with small Scar during Real life. Scar is both a tall man, and also small, just like session one's Wildcard where you can be both big or small. And for most of Scar's session, he tries to be in the middle. Just be his regular, Minecraft self, since he doesn't want to be reminded of relatity.

The second session was about having your food randomized and having to eat things like dirt and rocks. This relates to the fact that... well... Scar can't eat like a normal person anymore. Scar can only 'eat' through a tube and has to constantly make sure the food is mush. He also fantasizes about eating people. c!Scar is a cannibal and so when the watchers changed what he and the other lifers could eat, his brain couldn't handle that truth and just assumed they just couldn't eat. It was only thanks to Grian that he and his team managed to survive.

The third session was the snail and it was pretty simple what was happening. Scar had been tormented by the Snails in Hermitcraft and now they transferred over to the life series. The watchers made them into one-shotters because it would hurt Scar more since he's already not great at staying alive.

The fourth Session relates to the fact that Scar is pretty slow when making videos because of his illness. Scar starts off slow, but once he gets going, it's hard for him to stop. He mentioned tons of times that he tends to forget how long he should be on the computer and thus ends up being on a project for hours. Usually ending some episodes while it's like 1 in the morning for him.

And finally, session 5's gimmick was the Quizmaster, which relates to the fact that Scar is constantly reminiscing on the past. Mostly third life, double life, limited life, and secret life. Scar has been haunting people's posts and remembering the past. He got a good chunk of questions right. It was only the Last Life questions he didn't know completely since he was so sick during Last Life that he had to miss a session because of his real-world illness. Like he knew the horn Jimmy used in Double Life, but he couldn't remember the name because he's bad at remembering names.

Now, none of these gimmicks were meant to relate to Scar. After all, Grian created all the gimmicks. Its just funny how all of these gimmicks able to be connected to Scar. Grian truly is Scar's soulmate. Also, the fact that yellow and red names can kill dark green lives to get health back and has been compared to cannibalism is funny because I can connect this to Scar since c!Scar is a cannibal. He would totally implement the idea of adding some kind of cannibalism into the games. It is my headcannon that Scar was the one who had the random lives and life trade mechanic in Last Life while Grian put in the Boogeyman mechanic since Grian AND Scar both won Third Life. It's just a shame most people, including Scar, don't remember that Third Life was a double victory. So yeah. Scar is the only winner who won two games. Scott doesn't count because he didn't win Double life. He gave up the game to Pearl and she is the sole winner of Double life while Scott got second. Just wanted put idea up.

#winner's theory #goodtimeswithscar #wild life smp #wild life #grian #life series #gtwscar #gtws #desert duo

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aychama · 2 days ago

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G: YOU MOTHER FUCKER

The goat punched the other again. They were already bloody and bruised from fighting. Lambert backed, coughing up the blood.

G: What the FUCK were you thinking!? They gave you a purpose, a new start at life, you ungrateful piece of SHIT!

L: I know! And I also know that it would all end when they no longer needed us or found someone stupider to their work!

G: Bullshit. They promised-

L: PROMISED? Pfft ha-! Hahahaha!

Lambert laughed. They were laughing at the stupidity of the situation. Other one gritted their teeth, clenching their blood stained fists.

L: And you believed that? What did they promise you huh?

G: None of your business! Shamura proposed stuff they never did to other people! Once I get your head to him for what you did to them, to me, I'll have everything I want!

Goat tried to punch him again. This time, his wrist was caught by Lambert painfully, twisted and forced to get on the ground.

G: Gah-!

L: What did they promise you? Your safety? No longer having to worry about being hunted down? Or is the promise of giving you the crown once their times up? Come on... We're better than this!

The lamb said harshly. They knew every one of those lies. They weren't dumb.

L: You think someone as knowledgeable as Shamura doesn't know how to manipulate people like you? People like us? They are good at taking from the vulnerable, giving empty hopes with eye catching promises.

G: Fuck you.

Lambert let go of his wrist and took a few steps back. Goat looked at them curious and judgmentally

G: I don't believe you. You yourself are a manipulator. How the hell did you convince the red crown to lend you power?

L: I didn't... He gave it to me himself. But I'm not trying to convince you anyway. You don't have to believe me, follow me, help me... But to think I'd let you come in here and kill me is just ridiculous.

G: So what now? Do you expect me to just stop coming after you after what you did? People know me as someone that never let their prey ran off, can't risk that reputation.

L: No, I'm expecting anything from you. (It's a waste of time anyway) All I need is for you to think about this, make a choice and understand. Shamura is not someone you can trust.

G: I don't need to understand. Nor do I care if you can or not trust Shamura. In this world, people like you and me either do as told or become dinner. And, you're the main dinner they crave. Don't be stupid, Lambert.

L: (That's quite poetic actually) If Shamura wants to kill me, they can come and try for themselves, no need to get YOU involved. Tho, you said it yourself that you're doing this to be not on their bad side. If you're tired of being a vessel for their needs, this isn't the way to freedom... You will, NEVER get that by simply doing what they want.

G: Freedom? Ha! It's rich coming from you. Like you did any better! You betrayed Shamura for what? To be that damned cat's lap dog, to sit when says and stand when he wants. (Or maybe things I don't want to mentally imagine) You, put all your self respect, dignity and name aside to get toyed around by someone like him. Is this what you call "freedom"?

Goat walked towards them, making Lambert take a few steps back.

G: That's not freedom. Or maybe you want that. Maybe you make him think that he's in control to betray him later on. He was being nice after all. You love hurting the ones that help you the most, right?

L: Now you're just saying random words What? Is this some kind of way to make me feel bad? If there's a lap dog here, it's you. You don't get to act like you didn't do what ANYONE asked of you just to feel like you accomplished something worth mentioning! You can continue to obey Shamura and beg them to keep you afterwards but be aware that they'll put you back where they found you! I'm gonna do what I need to do to live my way, either with you or without you! So don't- ACK!

The goat launched at them, their hands around the other's throat. Goat didn't like those words, at all. The lamb choked, scratching the hands on their throat. Goat was angry, shaking as they watched the other struggle.

G: You think you can just backstab everyone who trusts you and don't face the consequences of it!? Like how you thought I'd forgive you, after you left me in that prison!? They caught you and I did everything to help you! And I waited, waited and waited for MONTHS! IS THAT YOUR FREEDOM!? You... Selfish... Ignorant... BASTARD!

Their heartbeat filled their ears, anger consuming the goat. The blood dripping from their nose hit Lambert's wool, joining the other's own stains.

G: You left me to die. And you dare to criticize what I do to survive!? If it wasn't for me, you'd be devoured whole in a feast! We did everything together! We helped each other out! But you!? It's only you! I trusted you!

Lambert stopped his struggle, instead looking up to their... friend. Maybe one of the worst things they've done. The only thing they regretted so far.

G: What did I ever do to you!?

The goat punched them again and again. But when they got no response, they let go

G: Answer me. Don't you have a snarky come back to that? Can't even deny that you are the worst fucking friend?

L: ...

They sat up, their lip busted and nose broken. The tension and the eye contact was too uncomfortable.

L: You're right. I did that. I am, a bad friend.

G: ...

L: You're not just here because of Shamura are you? You don't care about what they want or what they told you at all.

G: Yeah. I'm here because you're a piece of shit, a backstabbing manipulator and you owe me. Did you even tried to-

L: I did... I tried to help you out.

Upcoming tears already burned his eyes. Lambert took a deep breath.

L: Maybe I didn't try hard enough. I-I know it's no excuse but, but I tried... I'm sorry. I'm so sorry... I know, I know it means so little to you and I know you don't want to hear me say it. With all this shit going on... When Shamura started to go out their way and what happened between me and the king... The things I felt and couldn't even understand at the Festival... What I had to do to prove myself, my worth and all the thoughts about not being good enough... for anyone. These aren't excuses. They shouldn't be... I was supposed to be there for you. But please believe me when I say this, I never wanted to hurt you. And if I loose you now, or already did, I would never forgive myself for making you feel like I didn't care...

Lambert was crying when he finished talking. They couldn't face the goat anymore. Years of friendship and they ruined it. The goat took a step forward. And another. Lambert assumed they'd left but...

G: (You crybaby)

The goat hugged them. So they hugged back. It was quiet for a moment... The the goat backed away.

G: If I knew you were this much of a loser... But hey. Neither of us are made in heaven. We're both shitty. And I rather be shitty with you.

L: You...

G: I'm still angry and fuck you, you know.

They smiled at Lambert, then sighed.

G: But who else do we have other than each other? So stop crying! (It makes you look uglier than you already are.) I'll forgive you for a while, aight? Cuz I know you'd miss me

L: Fuck you... Heh...

G: Same to you. So-!

The goat pulled the lamb to their feet

G: When are we killing this giant spider?

Awwww this is adorable!

Thank you for writing this it actually shows me how much I have or haven't shared about my story so far and gosh its a lot djkfllf

And gosh Lambert just taking the punches from Goat, ouch

I love the back and forth the two have here and Goat being promised stuff from Shamura is a nice touch!

Goat calling Lambert a crybaby is so cute xD and I adore the hug ❤️

#ask #others writings for royal au #making a new tag for these ❤️

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calinaannehart · 2 days ago

Text

time is shortening (down to the bone)

Chapter 2

“Okay, Bobby should be here any minute, he’s going to take you to chemo, but then he’s got that meeting with the chief so Hen is going to pick you up and bring you home. Then she and Karen have got a playdate with Mara’s brother so Chim’s going to come over after he’s dropped Jee off at the Lee’s. I think he’s got this plan for, like, a movie marathon or something, so save your energy for that, and then Eddie will take over from him and do your physio with you. Now, I’ve told him that you’re leg has been pretty bad the past few days so don’t try and just suffer through it, you hear me? And then Eddie will stay with you until I get off my shift, I should be back about eight, but that will all depend on how the traffic is at—what?”

Tommy’s looking up at him from his spot on the couch, heated blanket draped over his legs, and his head is cocked to one side matching the fond, yet slightly exasperated, smile that he’s directing at Buck.

“You know you wrote this all on the calendar already, right?” Tommy says, throwing a thumb over his shoulder toward the kitchen. “I haven’t lost my memory yet.” His eyes scrunch as his smile turns teasing.

Despite everything he’s going through Tommy hasn’t lost that dry sense of humor that had caught Buck’s attention. Right from that first meeting, when Chim had driven them to the harbor station after calling Tommy for help finding the cruise ship, there had been something special about Tommy. Buck just hadn’t been able to work out what it was straight away.

The man had swanned out of the hanger clad in a blue jumpsuit that should have been unflattering, but somehow looked like he’d swiped it right from a fashion catwalk, and greeted Chim with an embrace that dwarfed the small man. Tommy had shaken Buck’s and Eddie’s hands in turn and asked them what their plan was. He hadn’t even taken a second to consider another option when Chimney had asked if he could get them a helicopter.

“For Captain Nash, anything,” Tommy had said solemnly, leaving Buck wondering what the story was behind the vow, and had bustled them toward a bright yellow helicopter with an instruction to stay out of sight until Hen arrived.

It hadn’t been until they’d safely landed on the rescue ship, grabbing a much-needed warm drink after watching Bobby and Athena reunite, that Buck realized he’d introduced himself as Evan rather than by his chosen name. Tommy had stood next to him, full of jokes about how no one would fire them now that they were officially heroes, and had asked Buck if that was how life was now at the 118. He hadn’t registered at first that Tommy was talking to him as he was so used to hearing the name Evan directed at him. But strangely, he hadn’t minded in the least.

Maybe that should have been his first hint at just how much the man was about to turn Buck’s whole life around.

“I know, I just…it’s a lot of moving parts, you know?” Buck shrugs as he stuffs a clean LAFD tee into his duffle bag.

It had hurt so much seeing Tommy suffering so much. It had been three days before the vomiting had let up enough for him to be able to keep down more than a few sips of water and a handful of saltine crackers. Buck had stayed for the duration of it, calling out sick claiming a stomach flu, and turning down all offers from the 118 to stop by and check on him and find him not at home. He’d confessed the truth when he’d returned for their next block of shifts, having gotten Tommy’s permission to share the news of his diagnosis, and just as Buck had predicted everyone had been shocked but had also offered to do whatever they could to help.

Getting Tommy to accept that help from someone other than Buck, however, had been more of a battle. When Buck had taken vacation days for the second cycle Tommy had been agitated, insisting Buck didn’t need to babysit him, that he could just check on Tommy after his shift. It had been hard not to let his frustration show when he’d reminded the man how he’d had to clean up the vomit before it stained the rug, how he’d washed weeks’ worth of dishes and done multiple loads of laundry, how he’d had to help Tommy in and out of the bathtub because he hadn’t had enough energy to stand, let alone wash himself.

“I’m not judging you for it,” Buck had insisted, softening his voice when he’d spotted the embarrassment on Tommy’s face. “I can’t imagine how hard this is for you. Watching you suffer is one thing, but actually going through it? I wouldn’t cope any better. Just accept the help, Tommy. Even if you say no I’m going to be here anyway, all of us are.”

read on ao3

@911bingo

If you like please reblog!!!

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evanbuckleyrecs · 2 days ago

Note

Any recommendations on hurt-comfort Buddie that will make you cry? HEA please!

I started to answer this but accidentally clicked on a Tumblr link so I gotta start over 😂

I haven't read Buddie fics in a while so these are a bit older. (I'm going to catch up soon! I've just been in a phase where I'm either reading Teen Wolf fics or physical books)

Also haven't updated my bookmarks yet. Sadly a lot of great authors I'd normally recommend have turned anti-Buddie since April and I'd rather not promote them in Buddie posts if they're not safe to follow anymore as a Buddie fan.

Please check the tags of a fic before reading in case something is triggering for you!

the things that haunt me in the middle of the night by justhockey

2,4k, rated G

He gasps for breath and it feels like a reflex - like coming up for air after being sucked under. Like a desperate, manic thing.

He’s safe, he knows that. Knows he was never really in much danger anyway. But the sound of it all - the waves, the rain, the crashing and the thundering - it echoes in his head, ricochets through his bones. It lives inside of him, he guesses, even after all these years. That fear, the exhaustion, the crippling terror of finding the surface only to realise that Christopher was gone.

He rubs at his sternum, tries to breathe deeply, tries to blink away the memories of the day the water nearly took everything from him.

I let my guard down by bucksclipboard

6,5k, rated M

"It didn’t stop. Buck went from hoping the packages were from someone special to suspecting someone was toying with him. The hopeless romantic in him was slowly wilting. When he opened the latest letter, suddenly he was not so sure his secret admirer was of the good-natured kind. "

or: who needs police protection when you have eddie diaz by your side?

Cut me slack (I've watched your heart stop) by kat_atthewisco

Rated G, 5,4k

“Well, unfortunately I am calling you specifically for your role as Mr. Buckley’s power of attorney. He does need a couple of decisions made about his care that he’s not fit for at the moment. If you’re able to get here soon that would be best, I can’t tell you much over the phone.” To her credit, Deirdre does sound apologetic, and Eddie’s panic has begun to ratchet back up.

“I’ll be there as fast as I can, is he- please, how bad?” Eddie repeats.

In which Eddie gets The Call from Cedars-Sinai while he's off work thanks to a healing injury. Being Buck's emergency contact is suddenly a very real thing.

Never More To Leave Here by devirnis

Rated T, 10,2k

"Can you remind my brother that we were supposed to get lunch?” Maddie asks.

“Uh sure,” Eddie says slowly, confused. “But why don’t you just call him yourself?”

“I did, a couple times, but he didn’t answer. I assumed he was still with you?”

Eddie thinks back to last night, to Buck specifically making plans to go back to his own place so he wouldn’t be late for lunch with Maddie. Buck had texted him when he got home, just a simple night :) that still made Eddie’s heart flutter, so obviously Buck had made it back to the loft… But there haven’t been any texts from Buck all morning. Not that that is necessarily unheard of, but especially over the last few weeks it’s become rarer and rarer for even a few hours to go by without Eddie’s phone dinging with a message notification from Buck.

A small tendril of worry curls around Eddie’s ribs.

BTHB: locked up & left behind

Diagnosis: Dumbass by snarkymuch

Rated T, 2,7K

Christopher scrunched his face, then stopped rummaging through his pack to grab something from the ground—something that turned out to be his phone.

“No, nope—who do you think you’re calling?” he asked, trying to reach for it, but Christopher had already hit the button, dialing someone—whom he’d bet anything was his father.

Christopher pulled away, out of reach, phone to his ear, then a moment later saying, “Yeah, I’m okay, dad—yeah, I know—no, but he fell out of a tree—”

“He is fine, though!” Buck yelled, hoping to stop the inevitable freakout from Eddie. “Eddie, do you hear me? I’m fine!”

--or--

Buck takes Chris out for a light hike, somehow ends up falling out of a tree, and Chris patches him up while waiting for his dad to arrive.

Presumed Dead by inkonmyheartandonthepage

Rated G, 4,4K

The fresh air was supposed to have been good for Buck. A small hike that he had done a million times. A nice hike that gave him a workout and at the same time allowed him to sift through his thoughts and feelings and to focus on what he really wanted.

Instead, he’s stuck in the middle of nowhere at a rest stop watching some asshole drive away in his jeep.

The 118 crew arrive a fender bender only to find it's Buck's jeep on fire and the body inside dead and burning.

The monsters turned out to be just trees by Ink_Dancer

Rated T, 8,4k

Buck and Eddie are searching for a missing person, and they're already lost in the woods when Buck gets injured and makes their situation a lot more complicated. With the sun going down, they're forced to spend the night outside, with only each other for warmth and shelter.

(set post-buck's recovery from the firetruck, but no other specific time markers. nebulously within the show's canon.)

It's what my rotting bones will sing when the rest of me is dead by heartbeatdiaz

Rated T, 12,4k

"Eddie? Eds, can you hear me?” Buck rubs his knuckles against Eddie's sternum, a little too harsh, a little too desperate. "Eddie!"

Eddie croaks out a weak, barely there, whine as Buck's knuckles do the trick and his eyes open in slits.

"Evan?" He chokes out, his voice so hoarse and raspy that it must have been hurting his throat. "You're real?" He whispers in awe, his hand twitching as his side like he wants to reach up to Buck— touch his face— but he's too weak to do that. Eddie's brow furrowed but a small smile graces his lips, barely there. "I didn't give up. I made it home to you."

or;

the one where a call goes wrong and leaves everyone thinking eddie was dead, buck finds about the will through a letter and comes to some other revelations in the process.

and in which eddie finds his way back home and finally gets to be happy with the love of his life.

BTHB Prompt: Missing and Presumed Dead

Let me go by tawaifeddiediaz

Rated T, 8,1K

For the first time since he met him, he wasn’t sure where Buck was, and it was driving him insane. His shift ended three hours later than Eddie on Tuesdays, and today, he had texted saying that he was going to pick up groceries.

After that, he hadn’t returned back home.

Kindness: What Connects Us by FandomLife54

Rated T, 9,6k

Still off balance, Buck slams his left heel onto the roof, heaving forward to catch the collar of that yellow shirt. And there’s no conscious decision making here. It’s all instinct, and he’s grateful for it. If he’d given his overzealous mind the chance to consider another way, he would have missed his shot. Instead, his arms hurl the boy into the hands of another survivor...

And his right foot misses the edge.

Buck catches Chris before he rolls off the firetruck, and it's him who falls back into the retreating waters of the tsunami. Unconscious and seriously injured, he's unaware that his team has been searching for him, never giving up as the days pass.

A leaf falls on loneliness by iimpossible_things

Not rated, 11,1k

Buck doesn’t think that if he were to say, “I’m in a bad place”, that anyone would turn him away. Really, he doesn’t. The 118 has too many good, kind people for that.

But every time he wants to open his mouth, to say something, to reach out to Eddie or Bobby or Hen or Chim, he hears Eddie yelling, “you’re exhausting.”

—you’re exhausting, you’re exhausting, you’re exhausting—

So each day he does his job and he laughs and he jokes and he pretends he’s the care-free goofball he’s always been. And each day he packs away his bruises and his worries, takes them home to his empty loft with its quiet rooms, and licks his wounds in silence.

And I watched a part of myself die 'cause no amount of freedom gets you clean by himbobuckley

WARNING: rape/non-con. Rated T, 10,2K

Buck goes out drinking after a particularly tragic call and the night takes a turn for the worse when he's targeted and assaulted. Struggling in the aftermath and unsure how to handle it, Buck tries to distance himself from his friends and family, believing that with time he can simply move past it on his own. Eddie notices something is wrong with Buck and desperately tries to get through to his friend, fearing the worst.

or:

Buck goes through the fucking ringer. eddie notices something's horribly wrong. you can contact my lawyer for emotional damages.

or:

“I heard about what happened yesterday,” Eddie says softly. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there. And that I didn’t know. I should’ve gone out with you, or made you come over, or-”

“Eddie,” Buck interrupts. “It’s- it’s okay. I just went out drinking. It’s fine.”

“Drinking alone?”

“Yeah,” he stammers. “Yeah, alone.”

“Hey listen, why don’t you come over tonight? We can do a movie night. And… I have something to tell you.”

“I’m sorry, Eddie,” Buck murmurs, feeling the tears welling up again. “I don’t think I can tonight.”

“Hey, wait Buck-”

“I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Blue skies by spaceprincessem

36,7k, rated T

“Most babies are born as accidents,” She says suddenly, like she’s decided that Buck has passed, that she can trust him with this.

Buck doesn’t really have an answer because that question hits way to fucking close to home. A year or so ago he would have said, yes, I was an accident, so I know how that goes, but Buck knows better now. Knows that he would almost give anything for that answer to still be yes. Evie’s finger works under the seal to rip it open, a stack of important looking papers dumping out onto the table in front of her.

“Not me,” she says without looking up as she organizes them into a neat stack, “I was engineered.”

And.

And Buck’s pretty fucking sure a giant, cataclysmic hole has ripped right open, dragging him down to the earth’s core where he vaporizes into dust.

{or Buck meets another savior baby and everything comes crashing down}

Leave The Light On (I'll Be Coming Home) by HMSLusitania

Rated M, 44,4k, fandom classic

“We’re here for our grandson,” Helena says.

“Chris is still sleeping,” Buck says.

“I meant, we’re here to take him back to Texas,” Helena clarifies.

“Yeah,” Buck says. He’s too tired, way too tired to be tactful. “Over my dead body.”

An accident on a call leaves Buck with custody of Chris after Eddie is... missing presumed.

While they navigate their new family circumstances -- and fight to stay together, despite Eddie's parents' best efforts -- a John Doe wakes up in a coma ward with no memory of his own life beyond the knowledge he has a son named Christopher and, somehow, he needs to get home.

Over The Age, Over Again by mintedwitcher

Rated E, 16,5k

EXCERPT:

He would’ve fallen down the cliffside if it hadn’t been for Bobby on the winch. Because that… that’s Buck’s jeep. There’s no denying it, no mistaking it. That is Buck’s jeep. Hanging almost sideways off a ledge, the driver’s side doors flung open with the force of the fall. And further down… no. No it can’t be… a man, smashed against the rocks. A massive pool of blood. But Eddie can see the familiar white sneakers against the dirt.

No Sight For Heart Eyes by znks

Rated E, 20,5k

“Buck, Karen, and Eddie stayed on the couch and talked while the kids settled on the floor to draw. It all felt so wonderfully normal that Eddie found himself forgetting that he hadn’t just closed his eyes in serenity as he leaned against Buck.

That’s what made the spell breaking so painful.

“Dad! Look! I drew the firetru- Oh, wait, it’s okay you can see it when you’re all better!” Christopher said it so cheerfully, not even hesitating before going back to swapping out pens with Denny.

But Eddie felt it like a shot to the chest.

He couldn’t see his son’s drawings.

Buck and Karen had barely paused in the conversation, but Eddie could hear how strained it became, both of them obviously knowing exactly how heartbreaking the moment had been. Buck’s arm wrapped more tightly around Eddie’s waist, chin resting on his shoulder.”

losing your sight for a week sucks but at least eddie has buck to guide him through his healing or at least through his own house

This has inspired me to go read more recent hurt/comfort Buddie fics! I haven't been super active on this account but hopefully I can update this soon :)

#911 #buddie #911 on abc #buddie fanfiction #911 buddie #911 fanfiction #911 abc #buddie fanfic #evan buckley #eddie diaz #hurt/comfort #buddie fic rec #buddie fanfic rec

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zigrethsnotebook · 11 hours ago

Text

How do you manage to make even the most mundane things sound exciting?

Ford x Reader

words: 3,154

tags: sfw, hurt and comfort

a/n: this was the only note i made for myself before writing this: hnghnghng this is about moths now so yeah... enjoy:)

It's been a whole year. The twins are back from their sea adventure and the kids are staying with them for the summer again. You were on your way over to the shack. Stan had written you a letter, inviting you over. He said it'd be nice to catch up, tell you and the kids all about their time at sea and that way they wouldn't have to tell the stories twice.

The stories weren't the only thing you were excited for. Before they had left Stan had encouraged you to confess to Ford, insisting that his brother felt the same for you as you did for him. But when you told him he just went silent for way too long.

"Ford?" A nervous chuckle escaped you. "Please say something?" He looked into your eyes, his gaze blank and unreadable. "I'm sorry." The words felt like a dagger to your heart. "F-for what?" You at least wanted him to have the balls to say that he doesn't care for you. "I don't see a romantic relationship between us having a future. Especially with Stan and I going out to sea tomorrow. I'm sorry."

You just nodded, taking the words in. "...This didn’t ruin what we have, did it? Will we still be friends when you get back?" Your voice was small, afraid of his answer. "I'll always be your friend." A sigh of relief. The idea of him not being a part of your life had been the reason you didn’t want to confess to him in the first place. You only did it because Stan was so convincing that he reciprocated your feelings. Turns out you were both wrong.

You shook your head, breaking yourself out of the bad memory. After almost an entire year, you had come to terms with it. Now, you were just excited to see your friend again. Excited to have a normal conversation with him again.

Back in the shack the Family was preparing everything. The kids and Soos got the snacks and drinks ready while the Twins were busy starting the campfire. Stan watched as Ford poked around in the fire. He shook his head.

"I'll never understand it." Ford looked up at his brother. "I'll never understand how someone as smart as you could let go of the person who would have been the best thing in his life." Ford sighed. They had had this talk before.

It was pretty much the only thing they talked about the first week at sea. Stan would also bring it up anytime a night on the boat was too long and too quiet.

"We have nothing in common... That and our lifes are way too dangerous, I can't bring another person with me." He saw the disapproving look on Stan's face. "It's not like I have anything to offer. I've spent my whole life buried in books and research. I don't know how to be in a relationship."

Stan scoffed at that. "What are you talking about, Sixer? You're a catch! Times change, Nerds are the new Jocks. There's a reason I was the second choice for most of the babes we met." A bittersweet chuckle escaped Stan.

Ford sighed, focusing on the fire again. "It doesn't matter anyway. Even if I wanted to try again, I highly doubt that they're still single." Now that was something Stan couldn't counter. Mainly because it's something he hadn't even considered. You were so head-over-heels for Ford the last time you and Stan talked, it just didn’t seem likely that you'd go looking for someone else.

The kids and Soos came outside, carrying marshmallows, crackers, chocolate and Soda. Dipper was the first to sit down on one of the logs. "I can't wait to hear of all the creatures you found! It must have been awesome!"

"You bet!" Stan grinned at the boy. "But we won't start with the stories yet, someone is still missing." Ford looked at his brother suspiciously. "What are you talking about, Stanley?" At the same time Mabel's eyes widened. "Are you saying we get to see-" She was cut off as Stan stood up and called out your name, announcing your arrival.

You smiled sheepishly and greeted everyone. The kids were super excited to see you again and Mabel ran over to hug you. You hadn't realized how much you missed them. When she let go of you she practically dragged you over to the campfire. Stan, who was still standing, hugged you as well.

"It's good to see ya again, toots." You chuckled. "I missed you, too, Stan." You broke the hug and turned to Ford who made no effort to get up or anything along those lines. Instead, you just waved at him, but gave him the same fond smile you had shown the others. "The same goes for you, Ford."

Behind you, Stan frowned at his brother, obviously disappointed at the lack of enthusiasm he showed you. He quickly put on a smile as he addressed you again. "Please, take a seat! We were just about to begin with our stories."

You sat down between Stan and Soos, who just greeted you with a simple "Hey dude". You two had become friends over the course of the last year.

Soon everyone had prepared a stick with a marshmallow and held it over the fire while Stan told the most extravagant stories of their travels. You were glued to his every word, his storytelling being how you two became friends in the first place.

You were so engrossed in the stories that you didn’t notice the way Ford looked at you. He adored you. The way the warm light of the fire illuminated your features perfectly. The way your eyes seemed to sparkle with pure joy as Stan talked about heroically fighting off some beasts. Hell, he loved you.

This wasn't news to him, of course. Ford had known this for over a year. In fact, when you confessed your feelings for him, he wanted to hug you, kiss you, propose to you on the spot. But he didn’t. Because he felt like he wasn't enough.

Ford felt like he didn’t deserve happiness after almost ending the world and he knew that he would achieve it if he let himself be with you.

Back then, after you had left, Ford had told Stan about the whole thing, who took him by the shoulders and shook him, asking him if he was insane. The next day, when they were about to leave, you had stopped by to say goodbye to Stan, but refused to speak to Ford, politely making up a reason why you had to leave again.

It had crushed him. Ford wanted to sprint after you, turn you around and kiss you all dramatically like in the movies. But he didn’t. Because he had hurt you already and didn’t dare to make it even worse.

Which, of course, had made it worse anyway. The way you had parted ways meant that you were left all alone with a broken heart. And you couldn't even talk to your best friend about it because he was on the same boat as Ford.

But now, as Ford looked at you again, he felt all the feelings he had been trying to bury beneath the ocean floor bubble back up again.

"And that is how Ford and I defeated the mighty Kraken!" Stan was standing, his hands raised to the sky in triumph. All of you cheered and clapped your hands. It was so good to hear his gruff voice and exaggerated stories again. Although, you were more inclined to believe him this time.

The evening went on with more stories, smores and lots of laughter. You were so relieved to have them back in your life again, all four of them. You had missed them more than you realized.

Eventually, it turned late and the kids began to get sleepy. The fire had also died down. In a joined effort you all cleaned the place back up, bringing the rest of the snacks and drink back inside the shack.

After putting more things on the kitchen table for Stan and the kids to put away you went outside again to see if there was anything else to get. Soos came your way and you held the door open for him as you stepped outside.

Ford was still there. "That's everything. Soos took the last of it." You nodded. "Neat." You were about to step back inside again when you felt Ford's energy shift to a more energetic one. He pointed to the porch light.

"Look at that! That's a Tyria jacobaeae! I haven't seen one of these in ages. A beautiful creature, just look at the markings on its wings, the bright red color..." Ford looked at the moth in awe and when you stepped closer you realized why.

The little black and red creature truly was stunning. But if Ford hadn't pointed it out then you never would have noticed it. "It is really pretty. But there is no way I'm gonna remember a latin name for anything." You chuckled lightly as you said it.

Ford hummed in acknowledgement. "Well, it is more commonly known as the Cinnabar Moth. Cinnabar, like the mineral, of course, because of its striking color. It wards off predators, letting them know that they're toxic."

You instinctively took a step back and Ford chuckled at your reaction. "There is nothing for you to worry about unless you plan to eat the little guy." You rubbed the back of your neck sheepishly. "Haha, no. Doesn't really fit my diet." Ford and you shared a laugh together.

Another, considerably larger, moth joined the other one at the lamp. This one was bright white and yellow with little black dots on its wings. Ford nodded knowingly as he spotted it. "Estigmene acrea. The Salt Marsh Moth. Very pretty, but did you know that these little guys aren't very well liked around here?"

Even though it was a rhetorical question you shook your head 'no' and sat down on the couch Stan kept on the porch, letting Ford lecture you. He quickly sat down next to you as he continued. "They feed on most crops which means that farmers have to be on the lookout for them around this time."

God, how you had missed this. Just hanging out with Ford, letting him tell you all about a subject he was passionate about was one of your favorite things in the world.

Your gaze shifted from the Moths in front of you to Ford's face as he kept on talking about the little creatures. You didn’t try to keep the look of adoration off your face as you watched him animatedly explain the differences in their wingspans.

Eventually, he noticed your staring and turned his eyes to you, stuttering his speech to a halt. You chuckled fondly. "How do you manage to make even the most mundane things sound exciting?" He laughed and rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly.

"You just have to open your eyes and learn to find beauty in the mundane. That way you won't ever be bored again." As if on its own your body leaned towards him. You quickly stopped yourself. He rejected you once, you didn’t need to go through that again. Ford hadn't noticed.

You forced your eyes away from his and toward the moths again with a sigh. "The only times I haven't felt any boredom were the days I spent with you last year." A tight feeling settled in your chest as you spoke the words, but you couldn't stop yourself. "And today, of course."

You tried to keep your tone casual, your voice light. Ford felt an ache in his heart. He wanted you to never be bored again, show you the world through his eyes. Show you how he saw you.

"Surely you weren't bored every day of this past year, right? I bet you went on at least one interesting date?" He tried to keep his tone equally casual. Tried to keep the desperation out of his voice.

You snorted. "Yeah, right. Who'd wanna date me?" "I would." You froze. Surely you had misheard him? You turned to look at Ford again, his expression was... honest?

You frowned. "I'm not in the mood for jokes, Ford." You stood and turned, about to walk away. Ford grabbed your wrist, stopping you. "Who's laughing?" You pressed your eyes shut and stayed with your back to Ford, unable to look at him.

"I just got over you. Don't make me go through all of that again." Ford felt his heart shatter in his chest. "I am so sorry." He paused, trying to find the right words. "I was a selfish asshole. And you deserved so much better. You still deserve someone so much better than me."

Ford took a deep breath, still holding tightly onto your wrist. He couldn't let you go until you knew the truth. "I, on the other hand, don't deserve your forgiveness. Hell," A bitter laugh escaped him, "it took Stan a whole year to convince me that maybe I deserve to be happy sometimes at all, even though I almost caused the world to end."

He took a shaky breath, tears pricking at his eyes. But he wasn't done yet. "I spent the whole year regretting every word I said to you that day. Because... what I didn’t have the guts to tell you then is... I love you."

Ford stared at the back of your head, looking for any movement at all that could give away how you felt about his words. But you didn’t move for a moment, didn’t spare him a glance. Without a word, you flexed your arm and pulled hard, tearing your wrist from his grip.

You walked away from him and the shack without turning back. Ford was in shambles, his legs trembling and tears flowing freely. He wouldn't have been able to follow you.

Stan and the kids had watched the whole thing unfold from one of the windows, being attracted to the sudden noise like moths to the light. Now they stood shocked, with their jaws on the floor.

Back at home you threw your shoes and jacket in a corner before collapsing onto your bed. You were angry at Ford for treating you like that, playing with your emotions for over a year. Slowly, it settled in that Ford had just confessed his love to you.

After a year of thinking he didn’t want you that way, it left your emotions all over the place. Angry, sad and with a weird feeling of relief you cried yourself to sleep.

A soft knock to your window woke you up again. It was still dark outside. It was a big window that led to a balcony. You stepped in front of it and pulled the curtains back, revealing Ford. He looked like a kicked puppy, making it impossible for you to ignore him.

You opened the window and stepped outside to him. "What do you want, Ford?" He cringed at your harsh tone of voice. "I came to apologize... again. I know I hurt you. I know I behaved all wrong. And I'm sorry." He looked up into your eyes.

"I don't expect you to fall into my arms or anything like that. You're over me and that's fine. I won't try to win you back. I-I just wanted to be honest... but, maybe that made it worse again..." Ford shook his head, starting to pace around in front of you.

You took a deep breath. It was time to just let go of your anger and instead seize the moment while you had the chance. "Ford." He turned to look at you with big, hopeful eyes. "I'm not over you."

He took a step closer as you continued. "I thought I was. But everything that happened tonight... everything you said... I still love you." You locked eyes with him and you could see the relief flooding through him as he let out the breath he was holding.

Silence washed over the both of you, neither sure how to proceed. But the silence wasn't uncomfortable either.

The dull moonlight cast a blue hue over the both of you. You looked up at Ford's hair, admiring the way the light made it glow, when a little winged creature landed on his perfect hair. A smile crept on your face and you raised your eyebrow along with your hand to his hair.

Carefully, you held your hand out to the creature, offering your finger to sit on. Ford stayed quiet and you urged him not to move too much with one hand on his chest. The animal took your offer and when you felt every one of its six legs on your finger you brought your hand back down.

You held the little moth between you two. Its wings were light-blue with dark tips. Ford smiled at the creature. "Lomographa semiclarata or Bluish Spring Moth." He put one of his hands under yours, making you both hold it together.

"Did you know that in a more spiritual sense, moths often symbolize transformation and are generally considered as a good omen?" You looked up from the moth and smiled softly at him. "Is that so?" You let the hand you still held on his chest wander upwards to his neck.

Ford nodded lightly. "They represent positive conclusions." You let out a content breath, accidentally startling the moth into flight. Both of you followed the creature with your eyes. "...And sometimes death."

You laughed and lightly swatted him on the chest with your now free hand. "You better not die on me, Ford." He placed one of his hands on top of yours that was now on his chest and the other one on your waist, pulling you closer. "I wouldn't dare."

Ford slowly moved his face closer to yours, giving you plenty of time to back away in case you didn’t want what was about to happen. But why wouldn't you, this is the moment you spent an entire year dreaming about!

You let your eyes flutter shut and soon enough felt Ford's lips on yours. They were softer than you imagined, making you smile slightly into the kiss. You moved your lips against his in a way that felt just right. Like this was how it was always supposed to be.

Ford sighed into the kiss, finally relaxing and letting himself enjoy the moment. This was the kiss you would remember forever. Especially because he would immortalize it in his journal first thing tomorrow morning.

When you both parted you felt like you were floating. You rested your head on Ford's shoulder, just enjoying finally being able to hold him like this.

"Positive conclusion, indeed."

#yes i googled 'moths in oregon' - what are you a cop?#no but srsly tell me if i got any of the moth stuff wrong #gravity falls #gravity falls x reader #stanford pines #stanford pines x reader #ford pines x reader #zigreth writes

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mywhisperingwords · 1 day ago

Text

lost mail | fred g. weasley

summary: after a bad break up you try to get rid of the memories, instead you find something that turns your life upside down word count: 4.3k masterlist

You cannot remember why you chose to keep every little piece of your life.

That was the only thought in your mind while you went through every box you kept in your attic. And every box came with the memories.

You couldn’t decide if you were grateful for it or if you hated it.

At the front of the attic were the newest memories you have kept, the ones who were involving the one person you were trying to forget.

The person who was at fault in the first place for you being up here and going through every box.

It hadn’t even been a week since the person you truly loved at one point told you that they were moving on, packing up their bags and that there was no space for you in those plans.

You were lying if you said you weren’t hurt, but you knew that you should be more devastated by this. Deep down you already knew that that ending was inevitable. And maybe you had made peace with that a long time ago.

And if you were truly honest with yourself, maybe you never really loved that person at all. How could you love a person that never truly saw you?

Giving yourself up and everything you stood for just to not be alone? You were foolish to believe that it could work.

You decided to make a clean cut. And that involved getting rid of the boxes that kept pieces of the memories you wanted to forget.

But once you started going down the memory lane, you couldn’t stop.

In every box were pieces of people you had not seen in a lifetime, at least that’s what it felt like to you.

These boxes had hidden secrets in them, ones you almost forgot but never really could. Like the coin that used to be your lucky charm, the one you would always carry around.

The castle was quiet at this time of night.

Not a soul around, just you and the moon.

You weren’t the kind of person who could easily break the rules, but at nights where you couldn’t sleep the only thing to help was to take a walk around the deserted hallways.

Never before have you been caught, but luck didn’t seem to be on your side tonight.

The sudden sound of footsteps made you stop in your tracks and with them came the one and only Fred Weasley.

He ran right past you, straight into the empty classroom behind you.

Before you could process that, Snape was in front of you.

“What are you doing wandering this castle at night?” he asked you, hair a mess and just a tad out of breath. He had been seemingly chasing after Fred.

“I was just thirsty,” you lied straight through your teeth, hoping he wouldn’t notice.

Snape on the other hand did not look impressed with your lie, but he seemed to have more important matters to tend to. “This is of no interest to me. Have you noticed someone running this way?”

“Have you lost someone, Professor?” you joked, immediate regret following with the way Snape looked at you. “I did, he ran that way,” you said, pointing in the opposite direction.

“If I ever see you again wandering the castle at night or see you misstep in any way, you will have detention for the rest of the school year. Also ten points lost. Understood?”

“Yes, Sir,” you replied, no longer finding joy in this situation.

Snape turned around before the words left your mouth, having no use for you anymore.

After he was out of sight, you knocked softly on the door of the classroom Fred was in. “You can come out, he’s gone,” you said in a hushed tone.

The door opened with caution, and you were looking at the grinning face of the red head. “Well, hello there and thank you from the bottom of my heart, love,” he said, sending you a wink that made your eyes roll.

“I think you owe me one,” you told him, taking a step back so he could step out of the room.

“Oh, I’d do anything for you,” he agreed, his grin widening even more if that was even possible.

“A normal person would offer money or something,” you hushed, with flushed cheeks. Never before have you been at the receiving end of the Weasley charm.

“Sorry to disappoint, but I do have…,” he rummaged through his pockets, fishing out one coin of a currency you did not recognize, “I have that.”

He offered it up to you, but you pushed his hand back to him, saying “I was only joking.”

“Maybe, but I’m not,” he said before taking your hand and placing the coin in it, closing your hand around it.

The brush of his hand was gone in a second, but something about it settled into your skin, a warmth you couldn’t shake even as you put the coin in your pocket.

“It’s my lucky charm, so you better keep it safe,” he said in mock seriousness, before turning around and walking away.

“I’ll try my best, Weasley,” you murmured as you watched him go.

You closed your fist around the coin, imaging that it still carried the warmth of Fred, but it did not. It was cold in your hand, leaving you feeling guilty when you remembered that you hadn’t been around at the shop as much as you used to.

It wasn’t that you had ignored him intentionally—you’d just been caught up in work and your relationship.

The same relationship Fred had disapproved of from the beginning. But you were determined to make it work, because that’s the kind of person you were.

You took crumbs of love and affection and tried to turn them into something more, desperately holding onto someone who did not even look back as they left.

Fred knew you better than anyone, and he’d told you this wasn’t right for you. But he’d respected your decision.

Still, it had put a strain on your friendship. Now, you felt a sudden urge to go and apologize, to make things right. But you didn’t—you were too much of a coward to admit you’d been wrong, especially so soon after the breakup.

You always used to be like that when it came to arguments, even if you knew deep down you were wrong, you still carried on. Maybe it was because you were telling yourself that sometimes it was better for everyone if you just ignored the truth—a tendency you also had when it came to other things.

“Why can’t you just admit you were wrong?” Fred asked, shaking with laughter.

You crossed your arms, turning your head to the side, trying to stifle a smile. “Because I’m not.”

“Yes, you are,” he insisted, tugging on your arm like a child begging for sweets. “Just admit it. Admit it. Admit it. Admit it. Admit it.”

You kept your mouth shut, unwilling to give in. But despite yourself, you couldn’t help smiling at his antics.

“There it is!” he crowed in victory, as though your smile was all he’d been after.

“You’re an idiot, you know that?” you said, no longer able to hold back a laugh.

He gasped dramatically, placing a hand on his heart. “You wound me.” Dropping down beside you, he put on his saddest face. “I’m leaving soon, and all you can do is insult me. How terrible of you.”

You shook your head, though his words struck a pang in your chest.

It was true. In less than a month, Hogwarts would no longer echo with the laughter of Fred and George. They would leave to open their shop and leave everything—including you—behind.

This was Fred’s dream, and you supported him wholeheartedly, but the ache of his coming departure had settled inside you and refused to go away. You knew it would linger, long after he was gone.

“Don’t remind me. It won’t be long now,” you muttered, a grimace on your face.

He nudged you gently, offering a smile of his own. “Don’t be sad. Once you graduate, you can come work for me and George. You could even move in with us.”

A chuckle escaped your lips. “Where? In your room?” You knew their flat above the shop only had two bedrooms.

“I wouldn’t say no,” he winked at you.

All you could do was stare at him, needing a moment to process his words.

The idea of moving in with Fred warmed your cheeks, and your mind couldn’t help wandering to the idea of a life together.

But that’s all it was—a fantasy.

“Very funny, you git,” you laughed, trying to defuse the tension that had appeared for just a moment. Moments like these seemed to happen more often lately.

There were times when Fred said something that could have meant more, only for you to turn it into a joke. It was easier that way—or at least, that’s what you told yourself to not have your heart be broken by false hope. Because this was Fred, he was just joking around, nothing more. That’s just what he did.

Fred took the lifeline you threw him, laughing along before saying, “I’m not the one who said Chocoballs are better than Jelly Slugs.”

And just like that, your old argument started up again.

Maybe in a few weeks, you’d be ready to face Fred. For now, you kept sifting through memories in the quiet of the attic, where the evening sun cast a warm glow.

There were so many pictures and keepsakes from the past few years, and looking at them now, a sense of dread washed over you. Years spent giving your love to someone who had never deserved it.

One box was filled with old parchments, overflowing with thoughts—a diary of your mind. It was a habit you had given up soon after meeting your ex, who never understood its importance. Not like someone else, someone special.

In another box, you stumbled upon an old photo from your days at Hogwarts, familiar faces you hadn’t seen in ages smiling back at you. Underneath it lay another photo, this one taken by an unknown person—a candid shot of you and Fred. You still remembered the day it was taken.

Sitting by the Great Lake in your favorite hidden spot, you couldn’t put your quill down. So many thoughts were swirling around your head that you needed to pour them all out.

That’s how Fred found you.

“Slow down, you might set the paper on fire,” he teased, a smile on his face. You jumped at the sound of his voice, not having noticed his arrival.

“Merlin, you scared me,” you sighed, looking up at him. His hair was disheveled, the top buttons of his shirt were undone, and his tie was slung over his shoulders.

Before you could ask what happened, he settled next to you on the stone, asking curiously, “What are you writing, anyway?”

“Anything and everything,” you told him earnestly.

“Huh?”

“I’m writing down every thought I have—it makes it easier to sort through the mess,” you explained, looking out at the water, a little nervous about his reaction to your strange habit.

You did not dare tell him that most of these thoughts involved him.

But his answer surprised you. “You’re a clever one, aren’t you?”

You turned to him, confusion written on your face.

Fred scratched the back of his head, his tone softer. “I mean… I get it. I’ve got a million things going on in my head all the time. Putting them down isn’t a bad idea.”

You hummed, a gentle smile tugging at your lips. “Maybe you should take my advice, then,” you said with a wink.

That made him laugh. “Maybe I should.”

A comfortable silence settled over you before you quietly confessed, “It’s also the only way to make my mind go quiet.”

Fred didn’t answer right away; instead, he stared out at the lake, watching the afternoon sun dance on the water.

But you were watching him, admiring the way his brows knitted and his lips—just the perfect shade of pink—pursed in thought. That look of quiet concentration made him more handsome than ever.

The silence stretched on, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. It felt like the perfect expression of the connection you shared: the way you could sit together for hours without speaking a single word and still feel content.

When Fred finally spoke again, you nearly missed it. “I have you for that.”

You didn’t even remember seeing anyone there with a camera, but you were grateful now for the photo they’d captured of you and Fred. Those were the moments you cherished most.

Beside the picture lay a stack of your old schoolbooks. As you picked up Advanced Potion-Making, a small note slipped out and fluttered to the floor. Your name was written on it in familiar handwriting, though you couldn’t recall what it was.

With a sense of curiosity mixed with something heavier, you unfolded the paper, revealing a handwritten letter addressed to you.

May 1996

My love,

you’re surly wondering why I’m writing you a letter but I was told by someone special that sometimes putting words on paper was the only way to sort though the mess in your mind, and that mess has been there ever since the day I met you.

I know that this is sudden but also not…

There has always been something between us, ever since I first saw you in that hallway when I was running away from Snape.

Ever since that night I couldn’t get you out of my head to the point George wanted to kick me out of our room, because all I was talking about was you.

I've been carrying this secret for a while now. I kept telling myself it would fade or that maybe it was just a momentary feeling. But here I am, still reeling from it every time I see you smile, or when your hand brushes against mine. It's as if my heart can't help but leap toward you, even though you're already so close.

I have known you now for so long and you’re still all I think about.

I don't think I tried to fall in love with you, yet here I am, helplessly yours in every way that matters.

Even if all we ever are is friends, l'll still be grateful to have you in my life. If there's even the smallest part of you that feels the same... then I want you to know that l'll be here, waiting.

I’m leaving tomorrow, I know that this is sudden and might be already too late or maybe this is the perfect moment.

Maybe in a year, after you graduate, you will be working with me and George, share a room with me, like we talked about and make me the happiest person every day just by being with me—in any way you want.

Anyways, I’m waiting for you at our spot.

Don’t leave me hanging.

Yours, always,

Freddie

You never knew.

Tears had fallen onto the letter, and you hadn’t even realized you were crying.

All these years, and you’d never known about this letter.

All these years, and you’d never given Fred an answer.

What must he have thought? That you ignored him? That you didn’t feel the same? That you’d simply left him waiting alone in your spot?

Your throat tightened, and your heartbeat quickened. With trembling hands, you read the letter again. And then again. Making sure that the words were real, not some figment of your imagination.

He had to watch you fall in love with someone else.

That thought shattered you. Pressing a hand to your chest, you tried to contain the pain spreading through you, tightening around your heart.

With shaky legs, you stood, clutching the letter tightly, and walked away.

You found yourself in Diagon Alley, moving toward a place you hadn’t visited in ages. You weren’t sure how you’d ended up here—you only knew you had to come.

The shop was dark, already closed, but the door was unlocked, left open until they finished their work in the back. An old habit, one you knew well.

Because you knew Fred.

He had been the one constant in your life, someone you’d always loved, though you’d convinced yourself it wasn’t meant to be, forcing yourself to move on.

But the letter in your hand told you how wrong you had been.

Rounding the counter, you found the office. A soft orange glow seeped out from under the door, accompanied by the faint scratch of quill on parchment.

You hadn’t planned what to say—all you had was the letter, clutched tightly in your hand. Taking a deep breath, you pushed the door open.

“George, I told you—” Fred began, looking up from his papers. His brows furrowed as he took in your disheveled hair and red eyes. “Are you okay?”

“I didn’t know,” you whispered, stepping further into the office. The familiar scents of smoke and cider surrounded you, grounding you.

“What?” His voice was gentle, but cautious.

“I didn’t know you loved me,” you replied, holding up the letter.

You saw realization dawn on his face, the moment he understood what you were holding. He shot up from his chair, his breath shaky, though he didn’t speak.

“I just found it, and I—I didn’t know,” you repeated, needing him to understand.

You needed him to know that you never meant to cause him pain—that you had never intended to leave him waiting alone by your spot at the Great Lake.

Tears blurred your vision as you repeated the same words, over and over, like a mantra: “I didn’t know.” They were all you could cling to as you trembled, heart pounding, unraveling in front of him.

Only when you felt Fred’s strong arms enfold you did the world seem to steady, his soft whispers reaching you through the haze. “It’s okay,” he murmured, “shh…it’s okay.”

You pressed your face into his chest, clutching his shirt as the letter crumpled in your hand. His voice anchored you, each word a lifeline as you soaked his shirt with your tears. Every emotion crashed over you at once. Regret, anger, grief and fear.

Fred never stopped murmuring reassurances, nor did he release you from his embrace. Only when your sobs quieted did he gently ease you back, his gaze searching yours. “We should talk,” he said softly.

And that’s how you found yourself curled up beside him on a small, well-worn sofa in his living room, a cup of tea warming your hands. The letter lay on the table before you, a tangible reminder of the conversation he’d been waiting years to have.

For a long time, neither of you spoke. The silence felt heavy, filled with everything you needed to say but didn’t know how to begin.

At last, you broke it, voice barely above a whisper. “We broke up.”

If Fred was surprised, he didn’t show it, merely nodding, acknowledging your words with quiet understanding.

He sat beside you, though with a safe, careful distance—as if he feared getting too close too soon.

“It never would’ve worked, you were right.” You glanced at him from the corner of your eye, studying his familiar face, still as warm as you remembered. “I think I was trying to turn nothing into something more. Trying to make it work, because that’s just what I do.”

He looked down, fidgeting with his long fingers, a habit you’d always known. He didn’t look at you, but somehow you felt his attention, unwavering.

“I don’t know if I loved-,” you cut yourself off. “I just had to move on from you, that’s all I knew,” you confessed quietly, feeling shame. “When I was cleaning out old things, I found all these memories… I found this.” You pointed to the letter on the table, the heart of it all.

You took a deep breath, preparing for the hardest part of all. “I never saw it before, and when I read it…” You laughed, a sad, soft sound. “It was everything I ever wanted. And I didn’t even know I could’ve had it.”

A tear slipped down your cheek as you whispered, “If only I’d known… I would’ve been there. I would’ve done anything. You must have thought I was heartless. You must have hated me.”

Fred’s voice was soft when he replied, “I could never hate you.” He set his tea aside, finally meeting your gaze with an intensity that made your heart stutter. “I assumed you just… didn’t feel the same. That maybe it was too hard to tell me that to my face. But I never hated you, not for one moment.”

You shook your head, needing him to understand. “If I had known—”

But Fred shook his head, stopping you. “In time, I accepted that loving you from afar was all I could do, and I knew that keeping even a small part of you was better than losing you entirely.”

The weight of his words sank in, each syllable touching something deep within you. Could he still love you, after all this time? The thought was terrifying and exhilarating, both the possibility of an answer and the risk of rejection. But there was a way to show him how you felt, one you’d kept close for years. Reaching into your pocket, you took out the coin he had given you so long ago.

A spark of hope glimmered in Fred’s eyes as he took it in, the recognition softening his features. “You kept this? After all these years?”

“You told me not to lose it,” you replied, your voice tender with a hint of a smile.

He took the coin from your hand, his fingers brushing against yours, leaving a familiar warmth that seemed to linger in the space between you.

“But you never were a very good listener,” Fred teased, his familiar grin reappearing for the first time that evening, making your heart flutter. In that moment, you saw not just the man sitting beside you, but the boy you had fallen for so many years ago.

Though it had been months, maybe years, since you’d spent time together as you should have, he still felt like home.

His soft brown eyes, the faint crinkles at their corners, the freckles scattered across his face like constellations, and his flaming-red hair, now grown longer—he was so much the boy you’d once known, and yet now a man, shaped by life and loss, sitting close enough to touch.

“What happens now?” you asked, voice quiet, as if afraid to disturb the fragile peace of this moment. But you needed to know. This was new and terrifying, and all you wanted was for him to take your hand and assure you everything would be alright.

“Whatever you want,” he replied simply.

But what you wanted wasn’t simple at all. You wanted him in every way you’d ever dreamed, to be by his side and share in his life. You wanted him to hold you as you mourned the years lost to another, yet you couldn’t find the words to ask it of him.

Fred understood, as he always did. “If you want to be with me, we’ll make it work. And if you need time, I’ll give you that.” He gently took your hand in his, his touch a silent promise. “I’ve waited years. I can wait a little longer.”

“I don’t want to wait,” you assured him immediately, your voice filled with the weight of all the years you had spent denying yourself this truth.

You could feel the shift in him, a warmth filling his gaze, his smile softening. Slowly, he leaned closer. “Are you sure?”

His voice sent shivers down your spine, his breath warm against your cheek. But your answer came without hesitation.

“About you? Always,” you whispered.

And that was when his lips met yours, a kiss so tender it felt like a wish made real, warm and gentle, a thousand memories woven into one perfect moment. His hand cupped your cheek, grounding you as you melted into him, your heart beating wildly in your chest.

His lips tasted of tea and something indescribably sweet, like warmth and comfort, like every dream you’d ever had of him. It was soft, unhurried, the years of yearning unfolding as his fingers brushed your skin, leaving a trail of warmth that you felt in every part of you.

When he pulled back, he rested his forehead against yours, a mischievous grin lighting up his face as he whispered, “Took you long enough, didn’t it?”

All you could do was laugh, nudging him away before pulling him back in, savoring the warmth you’d both waited too long to feel.

Fred’s gaze fell on the letter lying on the table, the edges worn and softened from years of waiting. He ran his thumb over your hand, murmuring, “Funny how one piece of parchment kept us apart.”

You looked at him, a small smile tugging at your lips. “Guess it was just waiting for the right time.”

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bluu3berry · 1 day ago

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Sigh...

His name is pacifist and Acts very fucking creepy and weird but is the sweetest sans you'll ever meet <3

(Made this on a free roblox game that lets you make sans models, this was my first attempt and i love him :3)

He has a dog personality... (Kinda) AKA!! Looks very scary, until he fully approaches you, and was just wanting pets >:)

More view points (Side view + back view) Undercut :D + Funfacts!!

Funfacts about Pacifist! 1. His pupils can move around anywhere in the black space on his head (Like the back of his head, the side, or even just on top... He uses it to play with others.)

2. At different angles you can see his teeth! But from straight on it looks like he has non (Kinda like those Lenticular printing images you'd get on those b-day cards!) From the side you'll see little sharp fangs ><!

3. All of his "arm" bones are pure black, and can stretch/deform to any length or thing he desires and or needs!

4. He can get rough when playing, to the point it scares some people.. He is know to make people cry and accidentally hurt them, He'll usually feel bad about it after awhile

5. When "playing" and or ""Hunting"" for others he will walk on all fors deforming his arms, to give better posture for walking. He also sometimes when trying to eat meat, he will rip chunks off similar to a starved dog.

6. At the time of writing has no canonical story, usually can be found hanging around Cross, Fell, Classic, Horror, or other generally neutral standing sanses

@anon-coke @scramble-eg @thelunarsystemwrites @superbfirnacho @the-second-reason @h0wlingmuttz @armpitfleas @wickjump @toffeebrews

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stellar-constellations · 3 days ago

Text

Star Patient: Chapter 9 (FINISHED SERIES, final chapter)

WARNING: This series will include; possible inaccurate medical procedures and medical setting, gore, toxic relationships that should NOT be replicated in real life, murder, yanderes, cursing, suicide mentions, implications of misandry (male misogyny), descriptions of self-harming, accusations of cheating, child death, death of major and minor characters, OC's are used throughout the story for plot and depth, reader is in denial and paranoid, toxic family dynamics, perversive thoughts, reader is bipolar (not saying that in a quirky way, like literally bipolar), religious comparisons, light mention of demons, stalkers, nonconsensual drugging, minor implication of necrophilia, possibly more to add.

Inaccurate canon-timeline and setting (this is before Ashley and Andrew murdered their parents). They also live in America (because I wasn't aware they lived in Europe prior to this series).

Reader has a small fear of adult men/rape and has a history of suicide attempts.

Incest is not Wincest.

Amnesiac! Obsessive! Patient! Andrew Graves x Yandere! Nurse! Reader:

Wordcount: 14,100+ words

Chapters: Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7, Chapter 8, final chapter (current).

Want to listen to music while reading? Check out the Star Patient's Official Playlists! Multiple different playlists and genres!

(Y/N) arrived at the hospital feeling refreshed for the first time in a long while. She’s had a couple weeks to heal from her accident, and she was paid the whole time too!

Now she’s back at work and ready to get back to it. She fixed the star patterned lanyard around her neck and fixed her undershirt’s long sleeves.

She exited her car and locked the door, walking into the hospital lobby. She walked to the elevators and pressed the button for pediatrics. When the doors opened, she left the elevator and walked into the staff room, checking in.

She made her way to Doctor Ryan’s office and waited a moment to make sure there was no patient in the room before knocking. The door opened as Doctor Ryan’s head peeked out, a confused expression on his face before his eyes widened.

“Oh my god! Hey!” he smiled, quickly opening the door all the way. “Come on in!”

“Hi, sir.” (Y/N) smiled. “I’m back and ready to work!”

“That’s great! These weeks felt so strange without you.” Doctor Ryan spoke. “Do you understand how hard it is to try and talk with Ruby? God, she bores me.” He groaned, causing (Y/N) to laugh.

“Yeah. Ruby’s just Ruby.” (Y/N) smiled.

“So, how are you feeling?” he questioned. “You’ve had enough time to heal up, right?”

“Yep.” (Y/N) nodded, smiling. “I’m perfectly fine! I’ll be having my staples and stitches removed after work today.”

“That’s great to hear!” Doctor Ryan beamed. “Just take it easy, okay? Don’t go lifting any heavy things like chairs or stuff; I can do that. And take some sitting breaks.”

“I’m fine, it wasn’t that bad.” (Y/N) reassured, albeit she did feel warm inside knowing her superior was worried about her. “It stopped hurting after a few days, so it was just letting the wounds heal over.” She lied.

“Well, I’m glad you’re feeling better.” Doctor Ryan smiled. “Oh, before I forget!”

He moved over to his counter, bending down and unlocking the lock on the cabinet before opening it, pulling out a basket. The small basket had some packets and wrapped candy bars, along with fake orchids.

"I got you some chocolates and flowers! If you're allergic to coco or milk, I have this replica of hot chocolate powder that tastes like hot chocolate, but doesn't have any milk or coco! People are so smart nowadays!” Doctor Ryan explained. “Oh, and don't worry, I checked with the missus first, so she won't be mad at me!" Doctor Ryan cooed over his wife.

“Tell her I said thank you. And thank you to you too.” (Y/N) smiled, accepting the basket and placing it on the counter. “But you didn’t have to do this. I was only gone for about two or three weeks.”

“I never realized how much I enjoyed your company around this place.” Doctor Ryan sighed. “I mean, seriously. Ruby could never.”

“What about Agatha?” (Y/N) questioned. “Wasn’t she here?”

“Taking vacation. She just divorced her husband, so she’s sunbathing in the Bahamas.” Doctor Ryan explained.

“About time.” (Y/N) scoffed. “Her husband was a dick and all he knew was how to use it.”

“Careful, don’t let our boss hear that.” Doctor Ryan chuckled. “That’s potty language.”

“Oops.” (Y/N) hummed, though she wasn’t sorry in the slightest.

“Ready for today? We have six scheduled, and walk-in’s from there.” Doctor Ryan explained, picking up his computer. “First one comes in 20 minutes for an annual check-up and flu shot. Let’s get everything situated.”

“Yes, sir.” She smiled.

She picked up antiseptic spray and wiped down the examination table, replacing a new paper sheet on it so no accidental snot or blood spills could infect the cushions, before looking at Doctor Ryan.

“Excuse me, sir?” (Y/N) spoke.

“Yes?” he hummed, arranging the pan with a antibacterial wipe, a lidded-syringe vaccine, a cotton ball and a bandaid.

“Do you think it’s possible for me to continue my education online? Or transfer to another Treegrowth hospital program somewhere else?” she questioned.

“What? Why?” Doctor Ryan questioned, stopping what he was doing as he looked over to her.

“I’ve been wanting to move out of the city lately, but I’m worried about my education.” (Y/N) lied. “I still want my degree after all.”

In truth, she wanted to leave the city. Even though she hid Penelope’s body, once it’s found a search will be conducted. After that, they’ll see Andrew on the cameras, and it’ll be game over for him.

(Y/N)’s not safe either. Considering she led Penelope out of the store to the alley with no cameras, and came back without her jacket alongside Penelope not following her; it’s safe to say she’s a prime suspect.

So I got rid of that jacket for nothing… (Y/N) mentally sighed.

Well, it wasn’t entirely for nothing. At least it kept people from getting suspicious so far. She would’ve had the police called on her if she walked into the store wearing blood (whether she entered wearing the blood or not, and she’s unsure if she could’ve used a fashion excuse).

It’s at least given her some time to plan other than immediately going to jail.

It doesn’t help that not only was (Y/N) seen on the cameras last with Penelope and Andrew was in the store too, but it’s safe to say that seeing the two enter and leave together is more than enough evidence that the two are “working together” (the police will say).

She highly doubts she can place the blame on Andrew for “blackmailing” or “threatening her life” her to where she had to kill Penelope. It just wouldn’t be believable with Andrew in a wheelchair and (Y/N) willingly buying clothes and food for him.

As shitty as it’ll be, she’ll have to move. She can’t move back to her hometown considering: one, her parents are dead; two, Ren might still be living there and she’s not risking it.

However, the family farm is back at home and if Rose wasn’t lying, then it’s now in (Y/N)’s name. She’ll receive a letter in the mail in a few weeks regarding her parents wills’, but for now she’ll have to brainstorm somewhere else to stay.

It shouldn’t be hard to find another apartment on the other side of the city considering how shitty this place is, rent would probably be low or at least decent too.

She could almost laugh at her luck. Maybe there is a God who favors her—it’s about damn time considering how much she’s suffered for this.

“Move out of the city?” Doctor Ryan questioned, sighing. “So I take it you’re not taking over my night shifts…?”

“Sorry…” she smiled sheepishly. “My boyfriend and I want to move someplace bigger, so we’re looking outside of the city.”

“Wait? You have a boyfriend?!” he gasped, almost dropping the pan of needed medical supplies.

“Yeah… we've been together a year now. Met him in a library at the beginning of college.” She smiled.

“Oh, that’s great! I didn’t know this but that’s great!” he laughed. “Whats his name?”

“And—... A-Andes.” (Y/N) hummed, smiling as she lied.

“Whats he look like?” he questioned.

Oh, his hair as luxurious as a raven. His eyes are as green as lush bushes from Iceland. His skin is as pale as winter’s first snow. His smile might as well be Cupid’s bow striking an arrow through my heart. She thought.

“Honeypot brown hair and eyes like roasted chestnuts during Christmas.” (Y/N) cooed, almost cringing at the thought of speaking about another man (even if they were just imaginary).

“Sounds like a dreamboat.” Doctor Ryan teased. “Reminds me of me in my young years.”

“You’re only 10 years older…” (Y/N) pointed out.

Even if he was older, sometimes it felt like she was more mature between the two, but it’s probably a persona for work considering they work with children. (Y/N) doesn’t hang out with Doctor Ryan outside of work since he’s her professor, so she's not aware of his home persona; however, she doesn't really care on finding out. She likes this Doctor Ryan the way he is, and she'd feel terrible if her superior knew the kind of person she actually was outside of these pastel nursing scrubs.

“Well, you still have a year left for your degree…” Doctor Ryan explained. “I can talk with our educational board later, but I don’t see why it’d be a problem. You do your research and send in your homework on time, and you do good during manual instruction too… so you’ll just have to go to another Treegrowth hospital and work with one of the pediatricians there.”

“Thank you.” (Y/N) smiled, letting out a relieved sigh.

“Speaking of school, you don’t have to worry about those research papers assigned over your resting period. I’ll extend the deadlines.” Doctor Ryan explained.

“Oh… thank you, sir.” (Y/N) smiled, surprised.

She had completely forgotten about those papers, she was busy doing other things during her break, such as spending days planning her next move and while keeping a low profile (and thinking of dinner plans to make sure Andrew was eating too).

Over her break, she had removed Andrew’s staples on his ankles and started helping him with physical therapy for his legs. It might be a few months before he can run, but he’s been shown to stand and walk for short periods at a time, so she’s not too concerned in something going wrong during his recovery.

She also got rid of her own stitches and staples, avoiding the emergency unit of the hospital too so no doctor can try and schedule a check-up with her.

She made sure to visit Ashley and place some flowers in her memoir. Now, she couldn’t place them exactly where the grave was in risk of someone potentially finding the suspicious sight and reporting it to the police, so she settled for placing them on the trail’s entrance.

She visited Ashley’s grave and apologized for her harsh words nights ago, remorseful for blaming Ashley for her struggles. It wasn’t her fault, and it probably wasn’t her demon’s fault either; it was something (Y/N) did to herself and she had to take responsibility.

Worrying so much about Andrew, Ashley, and what to do after Penelope death, she’s completely forgotten about her college papers.

“I’ll go get the patient and get his growth developments.” (Y/N) smiled, walking out of the room.

(Y/N) left the room and let out a sigh.

Maybe killing Penelope was a terrible idea; unlike Ashley, Penelope’s home was here! While Penelope didn’t have any family, she did have co-workers. Soon enough they’d grow suspicious and call the police for a wellness check eventually (it’s not like they’d be investigating the hospital and its illegal methods, so that’s not a concern).

Penelope could be reported missing tomorrow and it wouldn’t take long for a missing person paper to come out.

It was almost frustrating really for her to have gotten caught up in her emotions. She used to be so good at bottling them up, but recently it seems like there's a hole in her bottle at the bottom that causing all her emotions to pour out quickly.

It made her want to scream and shout, but she couldn't do that at her job, so she resorted to kicking the floor's baseboards lightly and silently screaming as she pulled her lanyard around her neck, strangling her.

Well, it's better Penelope is dead. She won't be a threat to Andrew anymore.

That thought made her feel a bit better, causing her to stop her silent tantrum and readjust her lanyard.

She had a patient to meet and make sure nothing was wrong with the kid. She met with the receptionist, taking a patient's clipboard of information they filled out in the waiting room for Doctor Ryan. She opened the waiting room door and smiled, reading the patient's name.

"Zoe Hoops?" she read. "Follow me, please."

For the first time in who knows how long, (Y/N) felt excited leaving work.

Work for (Y/N) was an escape. Instead of worrying about her problems, she’d worry about someone else’s. Even if she still has problems, it felt good being able to leave work with a smile on her face.

Nothing went wrong during her shift. Nobody died. Zoe didn’t cry during her flu shot, she’s getting very big now. George sprained his ankle but he was walking like a champ. Nelly got discharged after her fight with a RSV. Tom and Jerry played trains in the hallways and are said to be discharged soon.

It felt nice being bit by the harsh autumn air, knowing that winter was coming up.

It felt nice walking out of the hospital doors, even if her feet ached and there was a sore spot in her back.

It felt nice seeing the sun rising, brightening up the city and her mind with a new light.

It felt nice driving home, knowing for the first time that someone was actually waiting for her to come home.

It felt nice feeling the heated air from the apartment as she opened the door. All the locks were undid; Andrew must’ve kept them unlocked for her.

There’s a chance he went back to bed since all the lights are off. She quietly closed the door and locked all five locks on the door. She didn’t bother turning on a light as she planned on going right back to bed after her 12 hour shift, placing her purse down on the hallway table in the dark.

She walked into the living room, opening the curtain and checking the locks on the window to make sure none were loose or unlocked. She finished that window and walked to the knife one, only to feel a rough push.

She was knocked to the ground with a thud, landing on her back and quickly on alert. A short yelp leaving her as she got pinned to her carpeted living room floor. Her eyes adjusted to the dark as she squirmed and kicked, trying to kick off her assaulter as she hit and scratched.

It was Andrew.

Bored would be an understatement. Andrew was practically dead as he looked through the category of movies he was illegally pirating.

What? Don't judge. Nobody wants to spend $10 on a movie they're only going to watch once or twice. If you bought a new movie every day to watch in a 30 day month, you'd have spent $300 on movies alone in a single month. He'll take the money saving option and $10 a month for VPN. Besides, (Y/N) was the one that showed him this site on her TV.

He browsed through the movies mindlessly before picking a Ryan Reynold's movie called Waiting...

He watched the movie with a neutral expression. The jokes really weren't really that funny when he couldn't hear (Y/N) laughing in his ear at them. He wished she was here with him right now. He wondered if she'd laugh at the inappropriate jokes, disgusted at the cook's handling rude customer's food, or sympathize for Calvin's fear of peeing outside of his home's bathroom.

Maybe he'll watch the movie with her when she gets home from work. He really couldn't be bothered to focus on this right now.

A thought crossed his mind as he thought: damn, was it really this hard to watch a movie alone before? He doesn't remember needing Ashley's commentary on every piece of media he's consumed, yet with (Y/N) it feels like he needs her approval or disproval before he can decide if he likes something or not.

He groaned, throwing his head back on the couch cushion, before noticing the open front door at the corner of his eye. He immediately stood up, alarmed as he carefully walked over to the door, peeking outside to see if anything (or anyone) was there.

Nobody.

He closed the door, leaning his weight on it. He couldn't walk far or stand long, his ankles having a small ache to them still.

(Y/N) didn't leave the door unlocked, he remembered watching her leave for work and locking the door behind her. She had cooked him breakfast as he complained about wanting to sleep in with her longer, clinging onto her waist from behind as she cooked him waffles. It was 2 AM, at least six hours until (Y/N) would return home, he remembered her telling him. She had left her phone number on the refrigerator for him to call if he needs her (he's been pondering if he should.

Andrew knows she takes security very seriously. He's seen her check her window and door locks every morning when she wakes up and every night before bed. A paranoid little thing she is, but he thinks that's good considering this city isn't a very good place to live in. He would rather she be overly paranoid than overly careless.

He re-locked the five door locks on her door; a bullock, a chain-lock, a sliding lock, a deadbolt, and a classic handle lock. He hopped into his wheelchair and spent the time re-checking all her window locks (three in total on each window).

She must've spent hundreds to maybe even a thousand on all her security, it's a miracle she doesn't have cameras in her apartment too. Maybe she's cautious of digital security. He noticed she uses VPN's, fake emails and usernames that's not her name, uses no social media, and weekly changes her passwords.

He's not sure why she's so paranoid, but he'd rather wait until she's ready to speak. She's already done so much for him, housing him, feeding him, buying him clothes, taking over his hospital bills, and even letting him sleep in her own bed—he'd do anything other than make her mad at him, not when he's living life so good.

He has to start looking for a job. There's no way he can work in person, maybe he can be a teleprompter for an insurance company or something... The both of them did agree that he'd live with her so long as he pays her back eventually; and he's not too sure he can repay her with chores and homemade food like a househusband...

He heard a drawer shut somewhere in the apartment, immediately alerting him. He got in his wheelchair and rolled over to the kitchen, grabbing a large cleaver.

Ah, memories.

He quietly strolled down the hallway, cautiously looking around before noticing the bedroom door was open. He remembered (Y/N) closing it before work, so Andrew just spent his time on the living room couch waiting for her to return to him.

It'd be nice if he had a gun in case it was another hitman who his parents hired to finish the job, but he doubts (Y/N) casually has one lying around.

The door was cracked open, so he took a breath before opening it all the way. The door was loud and creaky, something (Y/N) intentionally made sure of.

There was a man rummaging through her drawers, hunched over as he looked through her bedside drawer, snatching something before putting it in his pocket. He had blond hair, a black button down shirt and blue jeans, classy and uncovered for someone who breaks into an apartment.

A robber?

"What do you think you're doing?" Andrew questioned, already annoyed. He really didn't want to go through anymore drama in his life.

The man looked over his shoulder, though his expression didn't seem surprised, but excited as he smiled. His hand moved from the drawer and pulled a gun, aiming it at Andrew.

Fuck.

"Bang!" the man exclaimed, pulling the gun's trigger.

Nothing.

"No bullets." He smiled, chuckling as Andrew clutched his chest, practically half-dead from a damn near heart attack.

"Jesus, fuck..." Andrew hissed, holding his chest where his erratic heart was beating. "Who the fuck do you think you are?"

"Ren. It's nice to finally meet (Y/N)'s pet. Andrew, right?" The man, Ren, smiled as he placed the gun down into her drawer, closing it up.

"How do you know our names? Have you been watching us?" Andrew questioned, ignoring the man's mocking words.

There's no point in being hostile. He's not so sure he can win in a fight without his legs, and the confidence this man is oozing is really making Andrew second-guess himself, almost like he was the one in the wrong instead.

"Right. Let's get to the point." Ren hummed, plopping down on (Y/N)'s side of the bed, picking up the pillow and sniffing it.

Andrew felt his eye twitch, enraged and disgusted at the scene in front of him.

"I'm Ren. I'm (Y/N)'s childhood friend from church and I'm her husband." Ren smiled.

"Husband?!" Andrew exclaimed.

"Oh, right. Soon-to-be-husband. I just gotta propose and take her back home and yada-yada, you don't wanna hear our sappy love story." He laughed, waving his hand in the air.

"Stop the bullshit. What the hell are you doing here?" Andrew snapped, watching as Ren squeezed (Y/N)'s pillow to his chest.

"Oh, just checking in." He smiled. "Yeah. I have a hotel around here. Only for a week though!"

"What do you mean 'checking in?'" Andrew hissed, making quotations with his fingers.

"Checking in!" Ren smiled, gesturing to a poster in the room.

The poster was of one of her favorite bands. Upon closure inspection, Andrew noticed a small hole, a black reflection peeking right back at him. A camera.

"Hey, what the fuck?!" Andrew exclaimed, swirling his head to face Ren. "Why the fuck is there a camera?!"

"Oh, I just installed that! It's even smaller with audio too! Oh, has technology grown over the years! It makes my job so easy." Ren gushed, acting as if nothing was wrong.

"What job? Stop ignoring my damn questions!" Andrew hissed, strolling closer to Ren.

He grabbed Ren's collar, forcing Ren off the bed and holding him down to Andrew's eyesight as Andrew gritted his teeth. A dark storm as he looked at this strange man who decides to waltz in his home, sit on his girlfriend's bed, hug hisgirlfriend's pillow, place a camera in his girlfriend's room.

"I'm going to fucking kill you if you don't leave my home right now..." Andrew spat out, a harsh glare in his eyes.

"Your home?" Ren laughed. "It's not your home, silly! It's under (Y/N)'s name!"

"Do you wanna die?" Andrew snipped back.

"Oh please, you're wheel-bound." Ren chuckled, his brown eyes challenging Andrew's green eyes. "Besides, you're very lucky I haven't killed you yet; especially when you've been sleeping with my girl."

"Your girl?!" Andrew exclaimed, his head butting into Ren's, ignoring the sting as his hands shook, itching to punch Ren's teeth in. "She's mine! You stay the hell away before I fucking gut you!"

"I love your enthusiasm, but you don't love her." Ren laughed, patting Andrew's shoulder as if consoling a child.

Andrew quickly wound his fist, gathering momentum before punching Ren's face.

Ren's head knocked back, hitting the mattress as a trail of blood poured out of one of his nostrils. He quickly sat up, clutching his nose.

"Ha. Ah... I'll let that slide..." he breathed out through his mouth, his eye twitching in a sign of annoyance. "See... I'm not here to hurt anyone. That's already over." He spoke, grabbing a tissue from tissue box next to (Y/N)'s bedside for sick days.

"What do you mean 'it's already over?'" Andrew questioned.

"Her parents?" Ren smiled, tilting his head to the side as he plugged his bleeding nose with the tissue he grabbed. "The (L/N)s?"

"What did you do?" Andrew demanded, grabbing Ren's collar once more.

"Haven't you heard? They're dead!" Ren smiled.

"I know that! I mean, what did you do?" Andrew groaned, impatient with Ren's childish demeanor.

"Well, I killed them!" Ren chirped. "Well, I didn't directly kill them, but I played a part in it."

"Spill it out! How?" Andrew snapped, annoyed as he shook Ren's collar.

"I hired a hitman. Quite pricey too! He just crashed an auto-driving car into a gas tank and blew the couple up!" Ren explained.

"W-what?" Andrew questioned, shocked. "Why the hell did you do that?!"

"Well, they were no use to me anymore!" Ren laughed. "When they finally left that farm to go visit (Y/N) in years, I knew it was finally time! I had been following them for years, so when I saw their car drive out of town I knew they were going to see her! My AirTag told me where they were."

Andrew's heart dropped, surprised and disgusted at the man in front of him. How dare he lay his eyes on (Y/N)? How dare he stalk her?

"So when they led me here, I had (Y/N)'s address and knew where she was, so they were of no use!" Ren smiled. "Oh, tricky little thing! I'll give her credit, she escaped my radar—but she's back now~" Ren laughed, his bloody tissue started to overfill with blood as it traveled lower and lower into the tissue white cotton, tainting it with crimson.

"So... you've been after her this whole time?" Andrew questioned. "Why? Is it the farm's money? What do you want from her?"

"Her." Ren smiled. "I want her. Such beauty shouldn't be for just anyone to see."

"What makes you think only you can have her?" Andrew snapped.

"What makes you think you can have her?" Ren retorted. "She was mine first! I had her before you did!"

"Well she's mine now!" Andrew hissed. "Besides, she likes me better than you. She chose me after all."

That earned him an uppercut, biting his tongue as he rolled back in his chair away from Ren, grabbing the cleaver in his lap and holding it as he gritted his teeth.

"Oops. You seemed to have upset me for a second..." Ren chuckled. "I will not apologize; however, I have a deal."

"Shove it up your ass!" Andrew exclaimed.

"It involves Ashley." Ren hummed.

Andrew's grip on his weapon immediately loosened, hesitantly lowering down onto his lap.

"A-Ashley...?" he questioned. "My sister? You know her?"

"Knew her." Ren scoffed. "She's dead."

Andrew's heart dropped for what seemed like the umpteenth time. He stood up his full height, towering Ren's 5'9" body with his 5'11" self. He grabbed Ren's collar and knocked him back onto the mattress, seething as he glared at Ren.

"What the fuck did you do to her?! I'll fucking kill you!" Andrew shouted.

"Wait! I didn't do it this time!" Ren gasped as Andrew started choking him.

"Then who else?!" Andrew hissed.

"(Y/N)!" Ren exclaimed.

"(Y/N)?" Andrew questioned, his grip loosening on Ren's neck. "Explain."

"Look in her bedside drawer." Ren hummed, tilting his head to the cabinets he was rummaging through earlier.

Andrew hesitated, before letting go of Ren's neck. He fell back into his wheelchair, before reaching over and opening the cabinet, surprised as he held his breath.

In the drawer, there was a small box and a snack-sized bag labelled Rophynol. There was a pocketknife with a rose on it, and a gun that Ren pulled out earlier. It looked awfully familiar, and it had no bullets too... And finally, there was a black and red occult charm, one Andrew immediately recognized as Ashley's.

"Jesus... no..." Andrew gasped, gently picking up and cradling the charm, the only thing remaining of Ashley. "No, please..."

"Oh, how cute! My little angel is into the occult now! Isn't she so pure?" Ren cooed. "Is what I'd say if I didn't know that was Ashley's... My angel is far too pure to be involved with that demon crap."

"How do you know Ashley's name...?" Andrew grumbled. "How do I know you didn't plant this?" Andrew hissed, protectively cradling the charm in his hand.

"Because I have no reason to kill Ashley." Ren hummed. "Well, scratch that. I would've. She got what she got for what she tried to do." Ren smiled. "The only reason I know of Ashley is because I followed (Y/N) to her grave!"

"A-a grave?" Andrew spluttered.

"Duh. I told you she was dead." Ren rolled his eyes. "You really don't listen. My angel is so patient and kind, accepting strays like you into her home..."

"But... this isn't proof that you didn't kill her..." Andrew muttered. "(Y/N)... she wouldn't kill anyone. She's just perfect. A darling... She wouldn't do it—you would!"

"I would—and have." Ren smirked. "But that's not what we're discussing right now. Here." Ren hummed rummaging in his back pocket before pulling out some small folded squares. "Look."

Andrew accepted the pictures, opening them. He unfolded the squares and saw five pictures. One of Penelope, (Y/N)'s co-worker Andrew remembers, and (Y/N) out in the rain in an alleyway. Another photo showed a knife in (Y/N)'s hand, along with one in Penelope's. The third had a photo of (Y/N) on top of Penelope, straddling her waist with a pocketknife in the air. The fourth had the knife stabbed into Penelope's chest, along with multiple other wounds on her chest too. Finally, the last photo showed (Y/N) throwing the body in a public clothing donation center.

"Right in the act!" Ren laughed, gasping for air as if it was there funniest thing ever. "I followed you guys later that day while the hitman did his job! I can't believe I actually caught that! Turns out my angel is such a little vixen!"

"This can't be real..." Andrew rasped.

"Oh! It is! And look, best one for last!" Ren smirked, grabbing final photo in another pocket, pulling it out and unfolding it for Andrew. "H-ha! Ha! Here! Lookie!" Ren laughed, waving a photo of (Y/N) in the rain with a set of flowers, placing them down on a trail entrance. "Giving her condolences to her victim! Oh, she's so pure! I haven't even bothered visiting Ben's grave!" he cackled.

“You think this is something to laugh about?! People are dead!” Andrew shouted, shoving the occult charm into his pocket before glaring at Ren.

“So sensitive… it’s just a blood relative…” Ben sighed.

“That’s my sister!” Andrew snapped.

“It’s not like you haven’t killed anyone before.” Ben hummed, crossing his arms.

“You son of a— w-wait…” Andrew’s threat fell short, taking in Ren’s words. “How… do you know?”

“My father owns our town jail, so we have access to arrest records to check for felonies and such—we look up people and decide if they should be held in jail or be sent to prison.” Ren explained. “You showed up on my records, lucky you!”

“Damn it…” Andrew hissed, gritting his teeth.

Of course, (Y/N)’s stalker has to be involved with the police. Why wouldn’t he?

“If I recall… you have three accounts of second-degree murder. Cannibalism. Escaping house arrest. Invading officers—“ Ren listed.

“Hey! Hey! That’s not what happened! That’s bullshit!” Andrew snapped.

“It’s what the system says. You really think the justice system is gonna believe a murderer?” Ren chuckled.

“It was self-defense and necessity. I had to do it.” Andrew hissed.

“Right. And the girl that went missing in your hometown? I'm fairly certain you caused it—same with the man shot in the park a city nearby a month ago. That's two more accounts of second-degree murder, but anyways…” Ren hummed, playfully rolling his eyes in a teasing motion. “You asked why I was here earlier…”

“To check in, you said…” Andrew muttered.

“That’s not all!” Ren chirped. “I told you I’ll only be here for a week, so we only have a week for this. I want you to help me.”

“Help? Help you? As if!” Andrew scoffed, grabbing his cleaver.

“Oh… well, I guess the police can be more helpful then…” Ren hummed.

Damn it.

“What is it?” Andrew gritted through his teeth. “What do you want?”

“(Y/N).” Ren smiled.

“I already told you. She’s mine!” Andrew hissed.

“No, she’s not!” Ren hissed, clenching his fist. “You don’t love her! How can you when she killed your sister?”

Andrew opened his mouth to retort, but nothing came out.

Because how could he love someone that killed his sister?

Ren smiled, pleased to see Andrew couldn’t come up with anything.

“See? How can you love a murderer? She’s killed innocent people, and you love that?” Ren chuckled, smiling. “(Y/N)’s not that innocent little nurse who just helps from the kindness of her heart. She does it to feel better about herself, an ego to fulfill. If you can’t love that side of her, you don’t deserve her. Do you really love that side of her? I mean, how do you know you're not next? Not even her own co-worker was off-limits!"

“Do you really ever shut up…?” Andrew grumbled, adverting Ren’s eyes.

“Let’s make this easy.” Ren hummed. “You help me get (Y/N), and this whole apartment is yours! I’ll send you rent money, and grocery money, and whatever money you want that will keep you satisfied in this apartment—so long as you don’t leave it! Or, ya know, you can and just go to jail. That works for me, but I’m trying to give you a chance here.”

“Why not just kill me?” Andrew questioned.

“It’ll upset my angel too much, dummy!” Ren chuckled, patting Andrew’s shoulder like he was swatting away a toddler’s joke. “In order to prevent anymore… accidents from her… it’d be better to make it seem like you betrayed her! Which you will if you wanna live!”

Andrew slapped away Ren’s hand, annoyed as he sighed. “And how are we gonna do that?”

“You are gonna drug her!” Ren smiled.

”Excuse me?” Andrew snapped.

“It’s easier than you’d think, especially with this!” Ren smiled, opening the bedside drawer and shaking the bag of white powder. “I can only assume this is Rohypnol since there’s a box here of it. This is a date-rape drug, or a sleep medicine gone wrong.”

“Really?” Andrew cringed, making a face. “I have to literally put it in her drink?”

“Yeah, or a liquid food like soup. Doesn’t matter. Just make sure she eats it.” Ren shrugged, placing the bag back into the drawer. “I’ll leave that there. Remember, you have a week.”

“And if I don’t, I die or get arrested…” Andrew muttered, watching as Ren moved around, grabbing a small box in his pocket before walking into the bathroom.

”Don’t even think about it…” Andrew hissed. “I share that bathroom with her.”

Ren looked over, before shrugging his shoulders. “Fine. Bathroom cameras are off-limits…”

“You’re gross…” Andrew groaned, rolling his eyes. “Why do you need those pictures?”

Ren ignored him, instead placing a camera in another corner of the room for full coverage.

“Why do you bother doing this?” Andrew questioned.

“Why not?” Ren smiled.

Ren noticed the answer didn’t satisfy Andrew as he glared at him, so he spoke again.

“And to make sure she’s doing okay.” Ren hummed.

“I think more than half of her problems would be gone if it wasn’t for you.” Andrew grumbled.

“You can say what you want…” Ren spoke. “But just remember, you have only a week left with her. Do you understand.”

“Yeah. Okay.” Andrew muttered.

“By the end of this week, you should have her unconscious. You will not mention me or any cameras. Nothing.” Ren ordered. “When you drug her, give me a call.”

Ren pulled out a piece of paper from his pocket, his number already written down on it. Seems he had this all planned.

“Be quick about it when you call. The drug shouldn’t take long to kick in. And use the whole bag if you can—the drug is tasteless and odorless so she won’t know any different.” Ren explained.

“Okay. Okay.” Andrew hissed, upset as he snatched the paper and shoved it in his pocket.

“I’ll see you tomorrow. I have some stuff to show you.” Ren hummed.

Andrew followed Ren as he put cameras in other rooms of (Y/N)’s apartment, before leaving out the front door, driving away in a silver Honda Odyssey.

Andrew sat around in silence, looking around at the apartment.

He felt angry. Angry at Ren and his blackmail. Angry at (Y/N) for lying to him and taking away his only family he considered. Angry at himself for letting this all happen and being so easy to control.

He felt upset. Upset at Ren taking control of his life. Upset at (Y/N) for pushing her way into his life. And upset at himself for allowing his life to be controlled like this.

“Fuck…” he groaned, covering his eyes with his hands.

It was Andrew.

Andrew had a crazed look in his eyes. An angry expression on his face that matched his panic at the hospital that night he tried to figure out what to do next after discharge.

He was mad, and there was a cleaver raised in the air just a few inches from her face.

“Andrew! Andrew, it’s me!” (Y/N) gasped, reaching her hands up and grabbing his wrist.

Was he mad at her? For what? Does he believe she's an intruder? But that wouldn't explain why he has a cleaver ready in his hand.

"Andrew!" (Y/N) squirmed, digging her nails down into his wrist to hopefully make him let go.

It won't work. He's pumped with too much adrenaline to even register the pain, that or he's able to tolerate it. Either way, both situations are bad for her and could result terribly.

"You son of a bitch! You killed her!" Andrew hissed, fighting to slam the cleaver down.

Oh god fucking damn it. (Y/N) mentally groaned.

Of course he'd figure it out eventually, but she was hoping to break it to him lightly, if that's even possible.

“You don’t understand!” (Y/N) retorted, struggling to hold back Andrew as his free hand tried pinning down her arms. “I had to! I had to!”

“You didn’t have to do shit!” Andrew snapped, furious as the cleaver came closer to her head.

“She was gonna kill me first! I had to defend myself!” (Y/N) blurted out.

“So you killed her?!” Andrew snarled.

“I panicked! The situation was too far gone to de-escalate.” (Y/N) snapped.

“That’s no excuse!” Andrew hissed, the sharp blade of her own cleaver getting closer to her head.

There was a moment where she considered that she might actually not be able to escape this one. With his strength against her, this isn’t a fight she can win.

“So what? I just let her kill me?” (Y/N) scoffed, her voice strained as she was losing, the blade grazing just above her nose and between her eyes.

“Yes!” Andrew snarled. “It should’ve been you!”

The sudden shock that jolted through her body shouldn’t have been surprising, it was her versus his sister, of course he’d choose her over his unprofessional nurse—but it still hurt to hear.

“If you kill me, you’ll pay.” (Y/N) snapped, a new wave of anger taking over her. “Even if it’s not me, you’ll pay. I don’t have to kill you myself for it to happen.” (Y/N) hissed.

There was a falter in his grip, tears welling up in his eyes as his grip loosened slightly, his hesitancy a mistake as she moved her hands off his wrists. She gripped the blade’s end, ignoring the already stinging sensation as it pressed into her palms in a line.

Even if the blade comes down, her hands will take the blow. She doesn’t need her hands to live, and she’s ready to make that sacrifice.

Her anger flared as a wave of adrenaline rushed through her, aiming to survive and escape. She grabbed the cleaver and pulled it back to her, catching Andrew off as he let go.

She kicked his stomach, before pinning him back on the ground, raising the cleaver.

“I can’t do it…” Andrew muttered, tears welting up in his eyes, a look of defeat as he made no effort to retrieve the cleaver hovering over him. “I can’t kill you.”

His hands went to her hips, loosely holding them as he stayed on the ground, (Y/N)’s body hovering over his.

(Y/N) glared at him, the cleaver raised up high as she aimed for his neck, gripping the cleaver’s handle tighter.

“Just who do you think you are…?” she spat out, watching as tears fell down Andrew’s face. “You think you can just kill me after all I’ve done?” she questioned.

Her twin buns were messy, one of her buns loose as her star hairclip threatened to fall from her hair. Her nurse lanyard dangled down on Andrew, one of her hands resting next to Andrew’s head as the other held her kitchen cleaver.

She watched the tears fall down his face, before throwing the cleaver across the room, probably creating a mark on her wall she’ll worry about later. She threw the cleaver so they both wouldn't make a drastic mistake they couldn't change. There wasn't any need for more bloodshed, all it did was get them both in trouble numerous times.

“Was there really no other way?” Andrew questioned, his hands tracing self-assuring circles on her hips. “You really couldn’t have done anything other than kill her?”

(Y/N) paused, thinking. Maybe if she hadn’t provoked Ashley to attack by spraying perfume in her eyes, perhaps they could’ve talked it out. She could’ve made a compromise with Ashley, or even go as far as to dropping the whole murder idea all together.

But Ashley Graves is dead, in an amateur grave (Y/N) dug up and covered with dirt herself, some flowers resting in the forest entrance as an apology and tribute to her. It won't fix anything, not what's happened in the past or future or now, but it's something to ease her mind, help her with the guilt.

“I don’t know.” (Y/N) admitted. “I just did what I could; isn’t that what we all do?”

“It still hurts though.” Andrew sighed.

“It always will.” (Y/N) spoke. “But it’ll lessen over time.”

“It’s just… she’s probably the only thing left that would’ve helped me know who I am.” Andrew groaned, tilting his head to the side to look at the wall, avoiding her eyes.

“You’re Andrew, dummy.” (Y/N) spoke.

“Well I don’t feel like Andrew.” Andrew muttered.

“When do we feel like ourselves these days?” she laughed, as if he made a funny joke.

Andrew glanced up at her, unamused.

“Come on, you have a whole new path ahead of you. You don’t have anything from the past holding you back, so what’s stopping you?” (Y/N) questioned.

“I-I don’t know. Maybe I’m worried.” Andrew stammered, unsure really what to say or how to put his feelings into words.

“About what?” she pried, getting up off his waist.

“I don’t think it’ll work out well for me…” He groaned, exhausted.

“That’s everyone’s fear. You’re not special.” (Y/N) rolled her eyes.

“I mean being a criminal and all…” Andrew added.

“Same boat here.” (Y/N) hummed. “C’mon, surely we can help each other? Make a truce and no more murdering?”

Andrew looked hesitant, staring off to the side as he thought. It was risky, especially after all they've done. (Y/N) lied to Andrew; but so did Andrew. (Y/N) betrayed Andrew; but so will Andrew.

"Okay, fine. No more murder." Andrew sighed, bringing his hands up and wiping the tears from his eyes.

He felt almost embarrassed that he cried in front of (Y/N), but he knew she wouldn't say anything about it. She really doesn't get the right to make fun of him for it after all the times she's cried in front of him.

Even if they did a truce, Andrew was distant. He stopped sleeping in her bed, and insisted on sleeping on the sleeper sofa in the living room. It doesn't take a genius to know Andrew was upset about Ashley's death; anyone would be upset really.

(Y/N)'s believes the reason why Andrew's so upset about it is because Ashley was probably the only key to Andrew knowing who he really was. Ashley's the only person who knew Andrew before he jumped and got amnesia, and there's no guarantee the amnesia will ever go away; in fact it could potentially worsen.

But (Y/N) would rather not think of that. She can't change what's been done.

However, Andrew hasn't been eating much. It doesn't take a genius to know that Andrew's gone into a state of depression, feeling hopeless and lost on who he is and what to do next.

They've had their arguments and bumps, (Y/N)'s had to force Andrew eat and make sure he's taking care of himself while she's gone at work. It seems like he's just getting worse by the day, and it's been a full week now. Though Andrew's come around to joking and smiling more, there's still a barrier between the two, one Andrew won't allow to break down no matter how many times (Y/N) bangs on it.

But he's eating again, in fact he's insisted on making dinner today after (Y/N)'s complaints. It was Andrew's turn to cook dinner—well, it's been his turn for a while now, but (Y/N) didn't want to force him to cook when he wasn't feeling well. Andrew never really cooked a meal that took longer than 30 minutes, but (Y/N)'s been insistent on him learning how to cook proper meals since it was a basic skill needed as an adult, so here he is being forced (guided) to cook beef tips and rice.

"You're checking the locks again?" Andrew sighed, watching her pace around the kitchen as he cooked.

Andrew stirred the beef tips, watching (Y/N) check all the three locks on each window, she was such a worrywart.

"You're gonna get wrinkles if you keep stressing yourself out like this." Andrew commented with a smirk.

"I think I'd look pretty hot with wrinkles. Like a MILF." (Y/N) snickered. "Besides, I'm just being cautious! Do you understand how many creeps are out in the world?"

"Yeah, I'm looking at one right now." Andrew teased.

"Oh, ahaha." (Y/N) laughed sarcastically. "You think you're so funny? Only funny thing about you is your face."

"I prefer the term 'handsome', but thanks." Andrew hummed smartly.

"Oh, yes, so handsome..." (Y/N) cooed, leaning over the counter and pinching Andrew's cheek, watching his eye close as he accepted the treatment, albeit a hint of hesitancy. "That rice is gonna be done soon. Be a dear and check it."

"Yes, ma'am..." Andrew commented teasingly, watching her let go of his face so he could check the rice cooker's timer.

"What movie do you wanna watch tonight?" (Y/N) questioned.

"I dunno. You decide." Andrew hummed, keeping his eye on the timer before going back to stirring the beef tips.

"Ugh, Andrew..." (Y/N) groaned, walking out of the kitchen to go into the living room and check the locks. "You know I can never decide a movie, that's why you always pick!"

"Let's do a comedy then." Andrew hummed, opening the rice cooker's lid as it beeped.

"A comedy? Okay, let's do an Adam Sandler then." (Y/N) hummed.

"You know there's other comedy actors other than Adam Sandler, right?" Andrew chuckled, a fake one. "Besides, I thought you said you could never decide on a movie?"

"Well, now I decided." (Y/N) huffed, checking the blinds and curtains and locks. "Besides, he's funny! He's got a funny voice and funny lines! I mean, c'mon, his performance in Grown Ups was pretty nice, especially the sequel."

"Whatever you say." Andrew chuckled.

Andrew grabbed two bowls and scoops some rice into each, then topped it with beef tips and gravy. On any normal day, (Y/N) would've complained to him that there needed to be a vegetable as a side, but she was just happy that Andrew was out of bed and standing up on his own for longer periods of time.

"Dinner's ready!" Andrew called out.

"Okay!"

(Y/N) chirped, making sure the final window was locked before closing the curtains.

She walked into the dining room and sat down as Andrew poured some lemonade into a cup.

“Thank you for dinner.” She hummed, accepting the cup Andrew handed her, taking a sip before placing it down onto the table.

“It’s nothing.” Andrew waved off, sitting down next to her.

“Doctor Ryan gave me a basket of hot chocolate supplies today, we should make them for our movie night.” (Y/N) suggested.

“Are you talking about the scrawny guy that’s way too happy?” Andrew questioned.

“That’s the one.” (Y/N) smiled.

“Ugh…” Andrew groaned, already knowing how extravagant that hot coco basket will be.

“It’ll be a waste of money if we don’t use it.” (Y/N) reasoned.

“Still…” Andrew sighed.

Just the thought of another male thinking about her made Andrew feel sick. It didn’t matter if Doctor Ryan was married with kids and her instructor, he still felt annoyed knowing the man got to spend more time with her than he could.

“I can make it after dinner when our stomachs settle.” (Y/N) hummed, taking a bite of her food and washing it down with her drink. “Don’t worry about the dishes either, I’ll wash them since you cooked dinner tonight—which, by the way, is very good.”

Andrew nodded, eating his food silently, looking down at his bowl before speaking.

“Do you think I’m a bad person?” he questioned.

(Y/N) frowned, looking up from her bowl. “A bad person?” she contemplated. “What makes you think that?”

“It’s not what I think; it’s what you think. Do you think I’m a bad person?” he repeated.

“I think… if bad people existed, we all would be bad people.” (Y/N) spoke. “And if good people existed, we all would be good people.”

“Which means…?” Andrew questioned, impatient as he looked at her.

“There no such thing as a bad person, only doing bad things.” (Y/N) huffed. “You know, that famous saying? It was something along those lines at least.”

“Right…” he sighed.

“Anyways…” (Y/N) yawned, covering her mouth, before resting her cheek on her palm. “Why?”

“What do you mean ‘why?’” Andrew questioned.

“What are you thinking about that has you wondering if you’re a bad person?” (Y/N) asked.

“I’m just curious…” Andrew muttered, shrugging his shoulders.

“About?” she pried.

“Do you think…” Andrew hesitated, placing his spoon down in his bowl, before looking at (Y/N). “Do you think it’s okay for someone to do bad things if it’s to protect themselves?”

“Depends on the circumstances…” (Y/N) hums. “I mean, some things can be forgiven and some can’t.”

“Don’t worry about the circumstances, just think of it as whole. Can you forgive me for doing bad things if it was to protect myself?” Andrew huffed, annoyed at her deflections.

(Y/N) paused, thinking. Is he… trying to open up about his past? His crimes?

“Well… I think you should do whatever it takes for you to survive.” (Y/N) muttered.

You can kill someone as long as they tried killing you first, that’s how self-defense works—at least, it’s an excuse for her to feel better about herself.

“You wake up with yourself, you go to bed with yourself, you feed yourself, you shower with yourself; you live with yourself for as long as you live, so only you should matter.” (Y/N) spoke, leaning on her hand and closing her eyes. “I think, it’s best to lend help to others once you’re stable yourself.”

“Right…” Andrew muttered. “So, I’m sorry.” He whispered.

He leaned over the table and moved her bowl and food away from her head, watching her peaceful face as she kept her eyes closed, before she slumped on the table.

Andrew stood up from the table, picking up (Y/N)’s phone and using her thumb to unlock it. He grabbed a piece of paper out of his pockets, dialing the numbers in before holding it up to his ear.

“Ren? I did what you wanted, come get her.”

“I’m so glad you came to your senses! You did it last minute, I was worried I’d have to find a place to bury you!” Ren chirped, laughing as he entered the apartment.

“Shut up…” Andrew muttered, annoyed.

It hurt. It felt like he betrayed himself more than he betrayed (Y/N). His chest ached, sore from lying to her, but it also burned, knowing that (Y/N) was going to be in the hands of this man now.

“As promised, you’ll live. I’ll give you 4,000 every month for rent, shipping groceries, online shopping, all that stuff. Just money for whatever you need.” Ren explained. “Remember, so long as you don’t leave the apartment! We don’t need the police finding you after I worked so hard to cover both your and my angel’s tracks! It was hard wiping out that camera footage at the mall, you know?”

Ren went around the house, removing all the cameras and microphones for Andrew to live in privacy.

Ren took a suitcase out of (Y/N)’s closet and unzipped it, picking up (Y/N)’s unconscious body and placing her in a cradle-like position, setting her down in the suitcase and zipping her up.

Ren noticed Andrew’s hesitant expression, watching him zip her up so he spoke.

“She’s claustrophobic, but this is just so none of the neighbors see her.” Ren explained. “I’ll make sure to pull off the side of the road and take her out of the suitcase before I get on the interstate.”

“You better…” Andrew muttered, watching as Ren grabbed the suitcase’s handles.

“Well, this is it. Call me if you need anything.” Ren smiled, handing Andrew a phone out of his pocket.

It looked new and pricey, but for all Andrew knows, it could have a spyware on it. He’ll sell it and buy a phone that isn’t hacked instead—but he won’t tell Ren that.

“Thanks.” Andrew muttered.

“I’ll pay you cash the last of every month in the mail. (Y/N)’s rent is due every first of the month, so just place cash in a envelope and drop it off at the landlord’s mailbox in the front. Purchase your groceries online and all that. You probably know everything else now.” Ren explained.

Andrew watched as Ren dragged the suitcase out of the front door, a feeling of dread washing over Andrew as he spoke.

“Hey.”

Ren turned around, an amused smirk on his face, as if he was challenging Andrew to defy him. “Yes?”

“Please… just take care of (Y/N).” Andrew muttered, her name feeling like poison to his throat.

“Of course. I’ve always taken care of her.” Ren smiled.

Andrew and Ren had different ideas of ‘care’, but it won’t concern Andrew anymore after today.

“Bye now!” Ren waved, walking down the apartment steps with the suitcase (Y/N) was in.

Andrew said nothing, watching him walk away, before he finally left his view. Andrew shut the door, shutting them both out of his life.

“And that’s how you’re here!” Ren smiled, watching as (Y/N) squirmed and tried to kick, her efforts fruitless as she was strapped to an expensive chair.

“Shut up! I hate you! I hate you, cunt!” she screamed, trying to bang her head bang onto the chair, but the straps around her forehead didn’t allow that.

“There’s no point in screaming; we’re in the middle of nowhere! Have you forgotten where our home is already?” Ren chirped.

“This isn’t my home!” (Y/N) shouted.

This is no home. This is Hell, pure Hell as she stared down the Devil.

There is no home for her, only settlements until she ups and moves to the next location. This should’ve never happened.

“How… how did you even find me?” (Y/N) muttered.

“I’ve been keeping a close eye on your parents. I had an AirTag in their car, so when they left town, it notified me and I followed them.” Ren explained. “They led me right to your apartment! So when they stayed the night, I hired a hitman to kill your parents when they leave town, do whatever so they just controlled an AI car to crash into the gas pump, hence the explosion at the gas station that killed your parents!” Ren beamed, as if the story was something to be proud of.

Fucking Apple. Whoever made AirTags probably made them under the guise to stalk his wife, or husband, no judgment.

“You’re terrible.” (Y/N) muttered.

She looked around the room, trying to find anything to aid her escape, but it was fruitless. She was stuck in Ren’s bedroom, in a pricey chair with fancy restraints that he no doubt planned for her to be strapped in.

She’d be watched while Ren is here, and even if Ren led to go work at his father’s prison that he’ll inherit when his father dies, there’s probably a camera and microphone hiding somewhere in the room to supervise (Y/N) while she’s away.

She had no way of escaping due to these damn rubber straps preventing her movement, she can’t even tilt her head. The chair was screwed into the ground, preventing her from even lifting up the chair or knocking it over.

“Why can’t you just leave? Leave me alone!” (Y/N) exclaimed, pissed off.

“Oh, my angel. You’ll understand one day that this is all because of my love for you.” Ren cooed, reaching out and cradling his hand on her cheek.

She tried to snap back and bite his finger, but the straps preventing her from tilting her head to bite him, trapped and felt vulnerable to whatever he wants.

“I really don’t think you understand the gravity of your situation, pretty. You do know that I can easily turn you into the police?” Ren smiled.

“You won’t.” (Y/N) challenged. “You’d miss me too much.”

“I can just visit you in prison everyday and night. Besides, my father owns the place, so I can do whatever I want.” Ren hummed, smirking as he knew the advantages he has to this situation.

(Y/N) frowned, annoyed as she looked away from him.

If only this chair was a normal wooden chair, then she’d just bang the chair legs down on the ground until they cracked and broke the chair. Or at the very least, alert neighbors in the apartment; but Ren lived in the middle of nowhere. Curse this secluded private town and it’s distance from neighbors—the only time she’ll complain about having privacy.

Either way, she’s trapped. It’s not like anyone in this town is even aware that she’s back, or would they even care considering her reputation here is worse than a sewer rat’s. If anything, they’d probably say she deserves it.

Is this to pay for my sins? (Y/N) thought to herself, shutting her eyes.

There’s nothing to do but accept the situation. Maybe after a few months or years, he’ll let her out of the chair and she’ll be able to escape after building enough rapport (because she seriously doubts she’ll develop Stockholm Syndrome for this bastard).

(Y/N) chuckled, laughing to herself at the bizarreness of the situation.

Her father’s kindness to see her turned into her ultimate demise. Or perhaps it was her fault for writing her parents contact information as an emergency contact for her hospitalization.

Everything just always seems to come and bite her back in the ass.

“So what happened with Andrew?” (Y/N) questioned, smiling. “Did you kill him too after he drugged me?”

“No, he’s alive.” Ren answered.

“Shocking.” (Y/N) commented.

“Well, we did make a deal after all. I don’t go against my word.” Ren smiled.

“Funny, considering you said you’d protect me; yet you’re the only threat.” (Y/N) scoffed. “You didn’t protect me from Ashley or Penelope either. Some protector you are.”

“Well I could’ve protected you if you just didn’t run away! You and your silly little brain, angel.” Ren chuckled, smiling as he shook his head, like he was laughing at a toddler. “I am sad to have missed your first murder; but I at least saw your second!” Ren smiled, pulling out some photos of (Y/N) killing Penelope from his pocket, waving it in her face.

(Y/N) frowned. So this was it, the rest of her life with the man in front of her. He has permanent blackmail on her, so even if she did somehow manage to escape, it’d be hard trying to get a whole new identity once a warrant would be out for her arrest, let alone trying to get a damn car to escape.

Damn you, Andrew… (Y/N) thought to herself, though she probably deserves this after killing his sister.

A Grave for a Grave.

Maddening. That’s how it felt without her. He hasn’t been able to sleep in three days, or was it four? He already can’t remember. It’s been a month, maybe a month and a half? He can barely get more than 3 hours of sleep a night, tossing and turning and tossing and turning in an endless loop.

God, he missed hugging her at night. Only a week of sleeping together in the same bed and he was already hooked on her warmth and softness that’s now permanently gone.

Andrew’s always considered himself as an introverted guy, but it feels like living Hell by not being able to see her.

He finds himself re-cooking the meals she’s made, scavenging through her drawers and cooking the recipes she left—but it never tasted like her cooking.

He finds himself using her bath products, reminiscing in the familiar scent—but it always missed the scent of just her.

He finds himself sleeping in her bed alone, only the ghost of her cold touch hugging him, but it provided no warmth or comfort like she did. Even her scent was starting to fade from the sheets. He missed her touch.

He finds himself waiting by the front door for her, leaning against the wall, sitting on the floor, peeking out the peephole looking for her; but he knows deep down he won’t see her. He just wanted to see her again.

It was his fault after all, he was the one that turned her in. He probably didn’t have much of a choice anyways, it was either that or die, but honestly death seems like a much more bearable situation than having to deal with the burden of loneliness and isolation.

Her phone was left on the charger. He had retrieved it from her purse and used it to call Ren and take her away, but he regrets the decision now.

He managed to crack the password on the fourth day of living without her. It was annoying, but he didn’t have her thumb to unlock it, and it was hard trying to come up with a password since she regularly changed her password as she does with other things in the apartment.

After meeting Ren, he understands her paranoia of security.

He unplugged her phone and looked through her pictures. She barely had any, only pictures of her in high school with who he can only assume were old friends. One had blonde hair with pink highlights and the other had strong muscles and short black hair.

The picture was taken from an angle. (Y/N) sat on a couch with a computer and notebooks in her lap as she wrote. Meanwhile, black hair was taking up some of the couch as she leaned on the armrest, glaring at the blonde who intruded on the picture with half of her head in the way.

The black hair looked like the brawns, the pink hair looked like the beauty (though Andrew thought [Y/N] was just as pretty, if not more), and (Y/N) looked like the brains.

Other pictures included her family farm, some good harvests of the year, pictures of old CD’s she listened to in high school, and old church gatherings.

Andrew found himself staring at her in the pictures, wondering why he never took a picture with her to remember.

He looked closer at the church pictures and saw one of the whole church members combined. (Y/N) stood in a blue dress with a white bow on it, and standing a few persons away from her was Ren, staring at her at he wore a white button-up and black slacks.

That damn man… Andrew thought, annoyed.

Even in their teen years, he was pestering her.

He swiped through more photos, finding more of her family farm, before noticing a picture that caught his eye.

It was a picture of a smaller (Y/N), a few years before her pre-teens, standing next to a wagon filled with a berry harvest. She posed in front of a sign that said (L/N) Family Farm: Fresh is Best below the big font, there was an address.

12920 N Estrella Lane, 39302, Luna, GE

Wait a second.

Andrew plugged the address into the phone maps, coming up with an address 34 hours away.

There wasn’t a moment’s hesitation the way he shot up from bed, scrambling to find his shoes. He grabbed a trash bag, piling some clothes, phone charger, and snacks into the bag. He put on a jacket (Y/N) bought him and a disposable mask he found in (Y/N)’s drawers. He picked up his wallet, an envelope of money Ren mailed to him, (Y/N)’s car keys, and something helpful from (Y/N)’s drawer.

He locked the door behind him, hopping into (Y/N)’s car Ren left considering he couldn’t trust (Y/N) to drive with him (nor would he allow her to drive anywhere and escape him again).

Andrew put the keys into the engine and plugged the (L/N) Family Farms into the car’s GPS.

It wouldn’t give him an exact location, but it’s at least a start. If Ren followed (Y/N)’s parents from their farm, then they must live in the same town. It at least gives Andrew a place to start searching.

Andrew just has to make a quick stop before he confronts Ren. Hopefully, nothing bad has happened to (Y/N) during this past month.

“Darla Carving got 8 years for poisoning her husband, under the charge of attempted murder.” Ren explained, sitting on his bed, eating some grilled chicken.

(Y/N) tuned him out, annoyed as she stared at the wall.

“Remember how we went to school with her? She used to be an artist, but now she’s just an inmate.” Ren smiled. “But hey, maybe she’ll be the next Van Gough in prison, I’d buy a piece—you’re not listening again.” Ren frowned.

(Y/N) rolled her eyes, annoyed. “Can’t you just shut up and eat?”

“Speaking of food…” Ren smiled, setting down his plate onto his nightstand. “It’s time for you to eat!”

(Y/N) frowned, already clamping her mouth shut, biting her teeth together.

“Now, now, it’ll be easier for the both of us if you just listen.” Ren smiled.

“No!” (Y/N) snapped, watching as Ren grabbed a bowl of tomato soup from the dresser.

“Say ah.” Ren smiled, holding a spoon to (Y/N)’s mouth.

(Y/N) kept her mouth shut. She would turn her head the other way if it wasn’t for the straps holding her head still.

Ren gave up trying to gently spoon it into her mouth, before grabbing her chin and forcing her mouth open, jabbing the spoon down her throat, before scooping up more soup and repeating the process.

Ren finished trying after some scoops, making sure she swallowed before placing the spoon down.

“See? It doesn’t get any harder, only you make it tough.” Ren smiled, setting the bowl down onto the nightstand.

(Y/N) grimaced, closing her eyes as she gave him the silent treatment.

“Soon the Rohyopnol will kick in, then we’ll get you your bath!” Ren cheered.

The tomato soup was laced with Rohyopnol, it just makes it easy for Ren to carry her around, hold her, and bathe her without (Y/N) trying to escape, considering she’ll be dead asleep.

“What pajamas today? Black or purple?” Ren hummed, holding up two pairs of pajamas, both with pants and long sleeves since she’s not allowed to sleep with a blanket in case she tries choking herself (as if she can escape the straps).

(Y/N) stayed firm with her silent treatment, ignoring him. She had 30 minutes before the Rohypnol kicks in and she’ll lose consciousness—she plans on spending that time being petty and spiteful.

(Y/N) kept her eyes closed, ignoring him like a child would.

If you can’t see it, it’s not real.

“Look at me.” Ren snapped, grabbing her lower jaw. “Stop being difficult.”

(Y/N) kept ignoring him.

“I wish you’d just accept your situation. It’s been a month now, can’t we just get along?” Ren frowned.

(Y/N) mentally rolled her eyes, annoyed.

At this point, she’ll suffer from muscle dystrophy being stuck in this chair all the time with no exercise. Perhaps she can bargain with Ren on that; have time out of the chair and regain her strength until she can escape.

“Listen to me!” Ren exclaimed, desperate for control even with the upperhand in this situation. “Why don’t you ever listen, Angel? Is it really so bad? I could do worse such as—“

A shot rang out through the room, Ren collapsing to the floor, hunched over.

“What the f—“ Ren looked up to be met with the barrel of a gun, Andrew’s holding the trigger before quickly pulling it without any hesitation.

“You know, you’d think a guy like this would have security or even good quality locks.” Andrew commented, sighing before he looked over at (Y/N)

(Y/N) froze, unsure if he was a threat or not. He had traded her in, and now he has a gun after turning against Ren. Will he turn on her again?

“(Y/N)…” Andrew spoke, taking in the sight of her, happy to see her before he noticed the straps on the chair.

He walked over to her, walking behind and undoing the leather straps attached to the chair, releasing her.

She stood up, stumbling a bit as she grabbed the nearby nightstand for support.

“What the fuck is your issue?!” she spat aggressively, her legs shaking before collapsing onto the ground near Ren’s bleeding corpse.

It was a pathetic sight, like watching a newborn fawn try and stand up on their nimble legs.

“Get away!” she snapped.

“(Y/N), shh. It’s okay.” Andrew frowned, concerned as he crouched down to her level.

“Who do you think you are?! Some hero?” she spat out, hitting his chest. “You think you can just show up and everything is suddenly sunshine and rainbows? What’s your intentions?”

“(Y/N), I just wanted to help.” Andrew spoke, fighting her hits, placing the gun in his waistband and grabbing her shoulders. “Hey, listen.”

“I hate you!” she spat.

“Can’t you shut up?” Andrew hissed, annoyed. “I made a mistake, okay? I wasn’t thinking, it was my life on the line!”

“How can you think you can save me when you’re the one that put me in this situation?!” (Y/N) scoffed in disbelief.

“I had to do what I had to do!” Andrew snapped. “You said it yourself. ‘It’s yourself for life!’”

“I didn’t mean trade me in though!” (Y/N) hissed.

“You would’ve done the same in my shoes!” Andrew hissed. “You killed my sister for your life! I turned you in for my life!”

(Y/N) paused, annoyed at how she could see the semblance, even if the circumstances were a bit different.

“We’re even now, okay?!” Andrew spat.

Almost. If anything, it felt like (Y/N) owed Andrew more. He killed her stalker and he saved her, meanwhile all she did was kill his sister and lie to him.

She’ll take what she can get. She’s not stupid to try and push this on more when she doesn’t have any good cards in her hand.

“Okay… okay, I get it.” (Y/N) sighed, woozy as she sat down on Ren’s bed.

She ignored the shiver of disgust that crawled up her spine as she sat down on Ren’s slumber spot. While (Y/N) sat in the chair in the dark, she could hear Ren’s peaceful slumbers as he slept under warm blankets.

“I… just want you to know, he gave me some Rohypnol.” (Y/N) explained. “It’s gonna kick in eventually, so I can’t do much.”

It was probably a small pill crushed up and distributed throughout the entire soup, so she probably didn’t drink enough to make her pass out, only enough to be drowsy and possibly caused temporary slow mental processing.

Andrew nodded, looking around Ren’s room before rummaging through his nightstand.

He found a tissue box, some Rohypnol pill capsules, a bottle of lotion, and some polaroids of (Y/N).

“Ick.” Andrew groaned, rolling his eyes, already guessing what this drawer was used for.

“What?” (Y/N) questioned, trying to peek over his shoulder.

“Don’t worry about it…” Andrew muttered, closing the drawer.

“What are you looking for?” (Y/N) questioned.

“This.” Andrew smirked, holding up Ren’s wallet.

How alike they are; they kill someone and they rob them. It’s not the like the dead person will need it anyways.

“Let’s go.” Andrew spoke.

“If we drop by the bank, I can use an ATM and draw out money from him.” (Y/N) spoke.

“You know his username and password?” Andrew questioned.

“Please. His username is his first and last name, and his password is my birthday.” (Y/N) scoffed.

“How cute.” Andrew commented sarcastically, stepping over Ren’s lifeless corpse.

“Not!” (Y/N) snapped, glaring at him.

Andrew led (Y/N) out of the house, glad that Ren lives on acres upon acres, therefore having no nearby neighbors.

“You stole my car?” (Y/N) huffed, walking out of the house as she saw her car parked near the gate.

“How else did I get here? Public transport?” Andrew scoffed, taking the keys out of his pocket. “I’m driving.”

“Yeah, duh. If I did, I’d fall asleep behind the wheel.” (Y/N) spoke in a ‘duh’ tone, hopping into the passenger seat.

“Moody…” Andrew muttered under his breath, annoyed.

“You’re the one that practically sold me for some money!” (Y/N) snapped. “Of course I’m moody!”

“And it was for my life.” Andrew added. “Besides that, what’s next? Back to your place?” Andrew questioned.

(Y/N) paused, thinking.

She can’t go back. Penelope’s dead, and even though Ren erased the store’s camera footage, there’s probably a backup file on an ICloud somewhere. Even if the evidence was completely removed, she doesn’t feel safe going back to that city.

Ren might’ve told someone about her old dwelling, probably his dad, current owner of the jailhouse she was living in for some weeks before Ren bailed her out. If Ren is found dead in his home, (Y/N) would be a major suspect.

Even if she did decide to go back to that apartment, she doesn’t want to live in that shitty city anymore, not with all the crazy shit that’s happened there.

She needs to move away.

“Wanna go on a roadtrip?” (Y/N) smiled.

“Where to?” Andrew questioned, confused.

“Go back to our apartment. We’ll pack up our stuff, sell the car, and take a train.” (Y/N) explained.

“Why the sudden idea? Are your intrusive thoughts winning over?” Andrew raised an eyebrow, putting the keys into the ignition.

“Okay, look. You’re stuck with me; and I’m stuck with you. We have too much blackmail on each other—both ends. So we might as well stick together to keep each other quiet.” (Y/N) explained. “It’s too dangerous for us to go back and stay. Not with all the murders recently. They’ll think it’s you since your home city is just a few cities over. And when they find evidence showing it’s me, it’s over for me too. You need me for money; I need you to keep quiet.”

“Yeah, sounds about right…” Andrew sighed. “So, an official truce now, right?”

“Seal the deal with a kiss?” she questioned, smiling.

Andrew looked over at her, smirking. “Ah, but I thought you were still throwing a temper tantrum?”

“I’m over it. You were reasonable.” (Y/N) hummed, smiling. “A few pecks could really help me, though.”

Andrew smiled, placing his elbow on the glovebox and leaning on it, leaning in and quickly pecking her awaiting lips.

“Hey!” (Y/N) frowned, unsatisfied with the rushed kiss.

“You said a peck." Andrew smirked.

“You know damn well I didn’t mean that! A real kiss!” she huffed, grabbing him by the collar and kissing his lips more firmly, staying there for a few seconds before pulling away.

“Women. You give them what they want and they want more.” Andrew playfully sighed, grinning at her.

“Ahaha. Get going and drive, chauffeur.” (Y/N) hummed.

“Yes, ma’am.” Andrew teased, driving out of the driveway. “There’s some chips in the back if you want them. Have a real snack.”

“I’m gonna take a nap and sleep off the pills…” (Y/N) spoke. “When I wake up, I can take turns driving next.”

“Sure.” Andrew smiled.

As if. He thought, mentally scoffing. There’s no way he’s letting her drive, he’s a gentleman after all!

“You just sit back and get some shuteye…” Andrew hummed, placing his hand on her thigh while driving.

“All set?” (Y/N) questioned.

“All set.” Andrew nodded, smiling. “Granola?” he offered, holding out a wrapped bar as he snacked on one himself.

“Thanks.” (Y/N) smiled, taking the granola bar in her hands, watching as Andrew swiftly picked up her bags. “Hey! You did that to distract me.”

“You’re just too slow is all.” Andrew smirked, carrying the luggage to the car.

“Mm… right.” She smiled, shutting the door and locking it.

Andrew prepared the car while (Y/N) turned the apartment keys to the complex owner. She exited, finding Andrew waiting for her in the driver’s seat.

“Hey, I should be driving. That’s my car.” (Y/N) frowned.

“Not in 30 minutes. It’ll be someone else’s from Craigslist.” Andrew smiled. “Now hop in before we’re late to meet them.”

(Y/N) smiled, getting into the passenger seat. Andrew drove out to a public supermarket to meet the new owner of the car. (Y/N) negotiated with the customer and managed to snag a few thousands for the used car.

(Y/N) took a cab with Andrew to the train station, getting a first class booth so that they could have a closing door for privacy, that way nobody noticed their faces.

“Hey, look. You’re on the news…” Andrew spoke, although not happy for the news as he pointed his phone (he got from Ren) to her.

“It was only a matter of time for them to find Penelope’s body and the security footage. It must’ve produced a foul smell in that box and—hey! That photo is so unattractive!” (Y/N) exclaimed, cringing at her photo.

A photo of her three years ago, the photo for her legal driver’s license. Her hair was messy and her eyes had sunken in with black eye bags under them, showing her malnutrition since at the time she was homeless in her car.

“Yeah, not so pretty compared to you now…” Andrew hummed, holding up the photo to her to compare.

"Stop that!” (Y/N) huffed, snatching his phone.

“I’m just saying!” Andrew chuckled, smiling before it dropped. “Hey, you sure about this?”

“Don’t worry…” (Y/N) smiled. “Well come back, for Ashley and Hailey. I promised them flowers after all.”

“You promised them flowers? Even Ashley?” Andrew questioned, surprised.

“Of course I did.” (Y/N) frowned. “She might’ve been… a specimen, but she was still a human after all. I mean, I’m supposed to be saving lives as a nurse, whether they’re a kid or not.”

Andrew nodded, looking at the window and smiling, before changing the subject. “Where we going anyways?”

“I dunno…” (Y/N) hummed, thinking. “Greenland?”

“And freeze my ass off?” Andrew huffed. “No.”

“Don’t you wanna see the northern lights. It’ll be so romantic!” (Y/N) cooed.

“Huddling together for warmth like penguins under solar rays?” Andrew smiled, grabbing her waist and pulling her into his side, resting his arm around her shoulder. “Maybe that can be a vacation one day. I don’t feel like starting a fire all the time.”

“They still have heating there…” (Y/N) pouted.

“No. No yearly winter.” Andrew spoke firmly.

“Fine. Iceland?” (Y/N) questioned.

“We can’t go out of states, dummy. We need passports.” Andrew groaned. “Meaning they’ll discover our identities and we’ll take a vacation to prison instead.”

“Let’s take a cruise then.” (Y/N) chirped. “I’m sure not all cruises or boats check passports! Let them leave without us and boom, we stay!”

“So persistent.” Andrew hummed. “Okay, maybe. But I don’t want to live in a damn city, I’ll tell you that. Find a town to live in.”

“A town where we can see the northern lights.” (Y/N) huffed.

“Deal.” Andrew smiled.

“Seal the deal with a kiss?” (Y/N) questioned.

Andrew smiled. He’s definitely come to enjoy their promise kisses.

Andrew leaned in, kissing her soft lips for a few seconds, before pulling away.

“Sealed.” He murmured.

“Good.” She smiled, pecking his lips again for extra measures.

She rested her head on his chest, looking out the train window at the scenary.

It doesn’t matter where she lives. She’ll find another hospital to work at after completing her degree at one of the Treegrowth hospitals for a falsified certificate. It's not the best to becoming a good person, but it's something; however, as long as she has Andrew, she has a feeling things will turn out just fine.

A huge thank you to those who have been following this little book since day one, and a huge thank you to every new reader who just made it here. I truly couldn’t have done this without each and every one of you. All your comments and positivity and criticism helped me tweak my writing to just not mine, but yours.

If you want to read more Andrew Graves x reader stories of mine, congrats! I will be doing an Andrew Graves x Two-Faced! Serial Killer! Reader! I hope to see you there!

Want more Andrew Graves content? Check out the Andrew Graves masterlist!

Inbox is OPEN for questions about the story and new plotlines/ideas, not for requests!

Chapters: Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7, Chapter 8, final chapter (current).

Want to listen to music while reading? Check out the Star Patient's Official Playlists! Multiple different playlists and genres!

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