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paxtito · 1 day ago

Text

secret door

pairings: jenna x fem!reader

word count: 4936

warnings: smut 18+, fingering, kissing- that’s about it

summary: you’re not famous so attending your first event (mexico beetlejuice, beetlejuice premiere) with jenna was nerve racking

a/n: so, so bad at summaries. this is for the anon who wanted more jenna content and the other anon who wanted smuttt— twas not originally gonna be smutty but — everything i touch turns to smut — #poetic

MASTERLIST

The hotel suite buzzes with activity. Jenna sits at the vanity, her makeup artist carefully blending a soft shimmer onto her eyelids. She’s wearing a silk robe, her deep teal leather dress hanging nearby, waiting to transform her into the star of the night.

Her stylist, Enrique, circles the room, picking at details, double-checking accessories, and adjusting the angle of her shoes laid out by the full-length mirror. Meanwhile, you’re standing by the suite’s other mirror as a tailor pins the last adjustments to your suit.

You glance at Jenna through the reflection, watching as she talks with her team, that familiar mix of excitement and focus lighting up her expression. She catches your gaze and smiles softly, the kind of smile that feels like it’s meant just for you, even with all these people around.

“How’s the suit looking?” Jenna asks, her voice cutting through the gentle hum of conversation.

You turn to face her, straightening your jacket. The tailor steps back, allowing you to move freely. “It’s coming together,” you reply, running a hand down the lapel. The suit is sharp—deep teal with subtle leather accents along the cuffs and collar, designed to complement Jenna’s dress without competing with it.

Enrique claps his hands dramatically. “It’s more than coming together,” he exclaims. “You look fantastic.”

Jenna tilts her head, her eyes scanning you from head to toe. “He’s right,” she says, her lips curving into a grin. “You look incredible.”

You feel a blush creeping up your neck and try to brush it off with a playful smirk. “Not bad for a first-timer, huh?”

“Not bad at all,” Jenna replies, her voice warm.

Her makeup artist steps back, admiring her work. “Done! You’re all set, Jenna.”

Jenna stands, tying the belt of her robe before walking over to you. Up close, she’s even more breathtaking—her hair styled to perfection, her makeup subtle yet striking. She places a hand on your chest, right over your heart, and looks up at you.

“Are you ready for this?” she asks softly.

You exhale, the weight of the evening settling over you. You’re not famous, not used to the flashing cameras and crowded red carpets. But then Jenna’s fingers curl slightly into the fabric of your suit, grounding you.

“As long as I’m with you,” you say, meeting her gaze, “I’m ready for anything.”

Her smile widens, and she leans in, pressing a quick kiss to your cheek. “Good. Because you’re going to blow them away.”

Enrique claps his hands again, pulling both of you back to the moment. “Alright, lovebirds, let’s get you dressed, Jenna! The car’s going to be here soon.”

Jenna winks at you before turning to Enrique. “Alright, alright, I’m coming!”

As she steps into her dress, you take a moment to compose yourself. Tonight isn’t just about her—it’s about the two of you, stepping into the spotlight together for the first time. And as nervous as you are, you can’t help but feel a swell of pride knowing you’ll be by her side.

A few minutes later, when Jenna emerges in her dress, the room falls quiet for a beat. She looks stunning, the deep teal leather hugging her figure perfectly, the details nodding subtly to the Beetlejuice theme.

“Wow,” you murmur, unable to stop the word from slipping out.

Jenna grins, brushing her fingers against your arm as she passes. “You’re not so bad yourself,” she teases, though there’s a sparkle in her eyes that tells you she means it.

As the two of you head out, hand in hand, you can’t help but think that no matter how many cameras flash or how loud the crowd gets, the only thing that really matters is the way she looks at you—like you’re the only person in the world.

The car ride to the premiere is a blur of laughter and nervous energy. Jenna keeps brushing her fingers against your thigh, a small gesture that sends shivers up your spine. She tells you stories from the set of Beetlejuice, her eyes sparkling with excitement as she recounts the behind-the-scenes antics.

When the car pulls up to the red carpet, you feel your heart rate kick up a notch. This is it—the big moment. Jenna squeezes your hand, her skin warm against yours.

“Remember, breathe,” she says, her voice low and soothing. “And if it gets too overwhelming, just find me in the crowd. I’ll be looking for you.”

You nod, drawing strength from her calm presence. As the car door opens, the flashes of cameras and the shouts of fans hit you like a wave. Jenna steps out first, her dress swishing around her legs as she takes in the scene. She turns back to you, her hand extended.

“Come on,” she says, her smile wide and infectious. “Let’s do this.”

You take her hand, letting her pull you out of the car. The world seems to spin for a moment, a kaleidoscope of colors and noise. Jenna keeps hold of your hand as she leads you towards the mass of reporters and photographers.

She stops every few feet, posing for photos and answering questions with ease. You hover slightly behind her, trying not to be trampled by the flood of people. Every so often, Jenna glances back at you, her eyes checking in, making sure you’re still there.

When it’s your turn to pose together, she wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you close. The cameras go wild, the flashes nearly blinding. Jenna leans in, her lips brushing your ear as she whispers, “You’re doing great.”

Her words settle something inside you, and you stand a little taller, a little prouder. As the night goes on, you find yourself relaxing into the role of being by her side. When Jenna introduces you to her co-stars and friends, she does so with a casual intimacy that makes you feel like you belong.

After what feels like hours, the red carpet portion of the evening finally winds down. Jenna leads you into the theater, her hand still clasped tightly in yours. The cool darkness of the space is a welcome reprieve from the hot glare of the lights outside.

As you take your seats, Jenna leans over, her breath warm against your ear. “Thanks for being here tonight,” she says softly. “It means a lot to me.”

You turn to face her, taking in the way the dim light plays across her features. “I wouldn’t miss it for the world,” you reply, your voice barely above a whisper.

The movie starts, and for the next two hours, you find yourself lost in the world of Beetlejuice. Jenna’s performance is captivating, her ability to blend comedy and depth leaving you awestruck. Every so often, you catch her glancing at you from the corner of her eye, a small smile playing on her lips.

When the credits roll, the audience erupts into applause. Jenna stands, pulling you up with her. She leans in, pressing a soft kiss to your cheek before pulling back to take in the standing ovation.

As the crowd begins to disperse, Jenna tugs at your hand. “Come on,” she says, her eyes sparkling with excitement. “Let’s get out of here.”

Jenna leads you through the quiet door, the sudden silence a stark contrast to the bustling energy of the theater. You find yourself in a small courtyard, the walls draped with lush greenery and the air heavy with the scent of jasmine.

She turns to face you, her eyes searching yours. “I needed a moment away from all that,” she says, gesturing vaguely back towards the main event. “Just the two of us.”

You nod, understanding all too well the pressure of being constantly in the public eye. “I get it,” you reply, reaching out to brush a stray lock of hair from her face. “It’s nice to breathe.”

Jenna leans into your touch, her eyes fluttering closed for a moment. When she opens them again, there’s a new intensity in her gaze. “Yeah,” she says softly. “It’s nice to breathe with you.”

She takes a step closer, her body almost pressing against yours. Your heart races at the proximity, at the way her eyes drop to your lips for the briefest of moments.

Jenna's eyes meet yours, a silent question hanging in the air between you. You answer by leaning in, closing the distance until your lips are a mere breath apart. She exhales, her breath mingling with your own, and then you're kissing, soft and slow at first, then deeper, more urgent.

Her hands come up to cup your face, her fingers tangling in your hair as she pulls you closer. You respond by wrapping your arms around her waist, molding her body against yours. The kiss goes on for a long moment, the rest of the world fading away until it's just the two of you, lost in each other.

Finally, Jenna pulls back, her chest heaving. She looks up at you, her eyes dark and half-lidded. "Wow," she breathes, a small smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. "That was..."

"Incredible," you finish for her, your voice rough. "You're incredible."

She ducks her head, a blush staining her cheeks. "I'm not the only one," she murmurs, her fingers toying with the lapel of your suit. "You look pretty amazing yourself."

You grin, pulling her back into your arms. "I guess we make a pretty good team, huh?"

"The best," she agrees, pressing a soft kiss to your jaw. "Now, what do you say we explore this beautiful city? I hear the food here is to die for."

You grin at Jenna's suggestion, your eyes roaming over her figure appreciatively. "Food sounds amazing," you agree, "but first, I think we need to change out of these fancy clothes. I'm not sure I can eat a taco in a leather suit without looking ridiculous."

Jenna laughs, the sound bright and melodic in the quiet courtyard. "Good point," she says, smoothing down the front of her dress. "Though I have to say, you wear it well."

You wink at her, enjoying the way her cheeks flush at the compliment. "Thanks, but I think I'd rather be in something more comfortable. Plus, I don't want to risk getting any salsa on this thing. Enrique would have a heart attack."

"True," Jenna agrees, glancing down at her own outfit. "I'm not sure I can handle the stares if we waltz into a taqueria looking like this."

You take her hand, lacing your fingers with hers. "Then let's find somewhere to change. I'm sure there's a shop nearby where we can pick up something a little more casual."

"Ooh, shopping!" Jenna exclaims, her eyes lighting up. "Now you're speaking my language. Lead the way, miss fashionista."

You laugh, pulling her along as you exit the courtyard. The cool night air feels good on your skin, and you can't help but feel a sense of excitement at the prospect of exploring the city with Jenna by your side.

As you walk, you keep up a steady stream of chatter, pointing out interesting shops and restaurants as you pass. Jenna listens attentively, asking questions and sharing her own thoughts. It's easy to forget, in moments like these, that she's a famous actress. Right now, she's just Jenna—your Jenna—and that's all that matters.

As you and Jenna walk down the street, you suddenly freeze, your eyes widening in horror. "Did you see that?" you gasp, your hand tightening around Jenna's.

She follows your gaze, her brow furrowing in confusion. "See what?"

You point a shaky finger at a dark shape scurrying along the sidewalk. "That! That rat!"

Jenna squints, then bursts out laughing. "Y/N, that's not a rat. It's just a sock."

You blink, realizing she's right. The "rat" is indeed just a stray piece of fabric, fluttering in the breeze. You feel your face flush with embarrassment.

"Oh," you say lamely, trying to regain your composure. "Right. A sock. Not a rat."

Jenna grins, her eyes sparkling with amusement. "You're cute when you're scared," she teases, bumping her shoulder against yours.

You roll your eyes, but can't help the small smile tugging at your lips. "Thanks," you reply dryly. "I think."

As you continue walking, you can't help but marvel at the way Jenna makes you feel—safe, cherished, and loved, even when you're being silly. With her by your side, you feel like you can face anything, even the threat of a sock-turned-rat.

After your close call with the sock-rat, you and Jenna make your way to a nearby clothing store. The shop is small but cozy, with racks of colorful clothes and friendly staff. You head to the changing rooms, each grabbing a few items to try on.

Inside the dressing room, you peel off the leather suit, feeling a sense of relief as the tight material slides off your skin. You opt for a pair of simple black sweatpants and a gray hoodie, the soft fabric a welcome change from the structured lines of your suit.

As you emerge from the changing room, you spot Jenna across the store, her arms laden with clothes. She's wearing a pair of ripped jeans and an oversized pink hoodie, her hair pulled back in a messy bun. She looks adorable, and you can't help but grin at the sight of her.

You make your way over to her, your own arms full of potential purchases. "Find anything good?" you ask, setting your clothes down on a nearby bench.

Jenna nods, holding up a pair of red sneakers. "These are perfect," she says, her eyes bright with excitement. "They'll go great with the jeans."

You help her try on a few more outfits, offering your opinion on each one. She does the same for you, her eyes roaming appreciatively over your body as you model hoodies and sweatshirts.

Finally, with bags full of new clothes, you pay for your purchases and step out into the night. The air feels fresh and cool, and you can't help but feel a sense of anticipation for the rest of the evening.

As you walk hand in hand, you glance over at Jenna, a smile playing on your lips. "Ready to find some food?" you ask, your stomach grumbling at the thought.

Jenna grins back at you, her eyes sparkling in the streetlights. "Lead the way," she says, giving your hand a squeeze. "I'm ready for whatever you have in mind."

You and Jenna wander through the bustling streets of Mexico City, the night air filled with the tantalizing aromas of street food and the lively chatter of locals. After a bit of exploration, you stumble upon a cozy little taqueria tucked away in a side alley. The smell of sizzling meat and warm tortillas draws you in like a magnet.

"This looks perfect," Jenna says, her eyes lighting up as she takes in the colorful decor and the inviting atmosphere.

You nod in agreement, your mouth watering at the thought of authentic Mexican cuisine. "Definitely. Let's check it out."

As you enter the restaurant, the hostess greets you with a warm smile. She leads you to a small table in the corner, the candlelight casting a soft glow over the checkered tablecloth. You settle into your seats, the menus already making your stomach rumble.

"Everything looks so good," Jenna sighs, her finger tracing the options. "I don't know what to choose."

You grin, leaning back in your chair. "Well, we could always share a few dishes. That way we get to try more things."

Jenna's eyes light up. "Ooh, I like the way you think. How about we start with some guacamole and chips, then maybe some tacos al pastor and enchiladas?"

"Sounds perfect," you agree, flagging down the waiter to place your order.

As you wait for the food to arrive, you and Jenna chat about the movie premiere, the different outfits you tried on, and your plans for the rest of your time in Mexico City. The conversation flows easily, punctuated by laughter and the occasional brush of hands across the table.

After a long evening of exploring Mexico City and indulging in delicious food, you and Jenna arrive back at your hotel room, exhausted but happy. You can barely keep your eyes open as you stumble through the door, kicking off your shoes and collapsing onto the plush sofa.

Jenna flops down next to you, her head landing on your shoulder. "That was amazing," she mumbles, her words slightly slurred with fatigue. "But I think I might have eaten too many tacos."

You chuckle, wrapping an arm around her waist. "You and me both," you agree, rubbing your stomach. "I thought I was going to burst."

Suddenly, there's a knock at the door. You both startle, your heads snapping up in surprise. The knock comes again, more insistent this time.

"Jenna? Y/N?" a voice calls from the other side. "Are you guys in there?"

You recognize the voice immediately—it's Enrique, Jenna's stylist. You exchange a glance with Jenna, your eyes wide with panic. You had completely forgotten that Enrique was expecting you back earlier.

"Uh, yeah, we're here!" you call out, your voice slightly strained. "Just give us a minute!"

You scramble off the couch, hastily straightening your clothes and running a hand through your hair. Jenna does the same, her movements slightly clumsy with exhaustion.

When you open the door, Enrique is standing there with a look of concern on his face. "Where have you two been?" he demands, his eyes narrowing. "You disappeared for hours! We were worried sick!"

You and Jenna exchange another glance, then burst into laughter, the events of the day catching up to you in a wave of hysteria.

"Sorry, sorry," Jenna gasps out between giggles, wiping tears from her eyes. "We got lost in the city and ended up on a taco crawl. We didn't mean to worry you!"

Enrique's stern expression softens, and he can't help but join in your laughter. "You two are impossible," he sighs, shaking his head.

As Enrique steps into the room, his eyes widen in surprise. "Wait a minute," he exclaims, his gaze flicking between you and Jenna. "What are you two wearing?"

You glance down at your outfit—a simple hoodie and sweatpants, a far cry from the designer leather suit Enrique had so painstakingly selected for you. Jenna looks similarly casual in her ripped jeans and oversized hoodie.

"Oh, uh, we went shopping," Jenna explains, a sheepish grin on her face. "We wanted something a little more comfortable for exploring the city."

Enrique's eyes narrow, his gaze sweeping over your casual attire with a critical eye. "Shopping?" he repeats, his tone a mix of disbelief and exasperation. "You two went shopping while you were supposed to be at the afterparty?"

You and Jenna exchange a guilty glance, suddenly feeling like naughty schoolchildren caught in the act. "Well," you begin, trying to find the right words, "we thought it would be nice to have something a little more practical for our time here in Mexico City. And we didn't want to get the fancy clothes dirty or ripped."

Enrique sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. "I understand the practicality, but you should have at least let me know. I was starting to think you two had run off and eloped or something."

Jenna lets out a snort of laughter, quickly covering her mouth to stifle the sound. "Eloped? In Mexico City? On the same day as the premiere?" She shakes her head, her eyes sparkling with mirth. "If we were going to do that, we would have at least planned it better."

Enrique rolls his eyes, but you can see the hint of a smile tugging at his lips. "Very funny," he says dryly. "Just promise me you'll let me know next time you decide to go on a spontaneous shopping spree, okay?"

"We promise," you assure him, holding up your hands in a gesture of surrender. "No more disappearing acts without warning."

Enrique nods, seemingly satisfied with your response. "Alright then. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have some calls to make. I need to do damage control after your little stunt." He gives you both a mock glare before turning to leave.

As soon as he's gone, you and Jenna collapse onto the couch once again, dissolving into a fit of giggles. The exhaustion of the day catches up to you, and before you know it, you're fast asleep, your heads resting on each other's shoulders.

The morning sun filters through the curtains, casting a warm glow across the hotel room. You blink awake slowly, your eyes adjusting to the light. For a moment, you're disoriented, unsure of where you are. Then the memories of the previous night come flooding back—the premiere, the shopping trip, the delicious tacos.

You turn your head to the side, your gaze landing on Jenna. She's still fast asleep, her face relaxed and peaceful in the early morning light. Your heart skips a beat at the sight of her, and you can't help but smile.

Carefully, so as not to wake her, you shift closer, your bodies pressing together under the soft sheets. Jenna stirs slightly, her arm draping across your waist as she mumbles something unintelligible.

You let your fingers trace the curve of her cheek, marveling at the smoothness of her skin. In moments like these, it's hard to believe that she's a famous actress, that thousands of people adore her. To you, she's simply Jenna—your Jenna—the girl who makes your heart race and your soul sing.

As if sensing your thoughts, Jenna begins to stir. Her eyes flutter open, her gaze hazy with sleep. When she sees you watching her, a slow smile spreads across her face.

"Morning," she murmurs, her voice rough with sleep.

"Good morning," you reply softly, leaning in to press a gentle kiss to her forehead. "Sleep well?"

Jenna stretches languidly, a soft yawn escaping her lips. "Like a baby," she says, her voice still groggy. "You?"

"Pretty good," you reply, your fingers still tracing lazy patterns on her cheek. "Though I might have gotten used to this view."

Jenna's cheeks flush a soft pink, and she ducks her head shyly. "Flatterer," she teases, but you can see the pleased smile tugging at her lips.

You lean in, your forehead resting against hers. "I'm not flattering," you murmur. "I'm just stating facts."

Jenna's eyes sparkle with mirth, and she closes the distance between you, pressing her lips to yours in a soft, sweet kiss. You melt into it, your arms wrapping around her waist and pulling her closer.

The kiss deepens, growing more urgent as the morning haze lifts. Jenna's hands slip under your shirt, her touch sending shivers down your spine. You lose yourself in the sensation, in the feel of her body against yours, the taste of her lips.

After a long moment, you both pull back, breathless and smiling. Jenna's hair is mussed, her lips swollen, and you've never seen anything more beautiful.

"Wow," she breathes, her eyes dark with desire. "Good morning indeed."

You grin, your heart feeling full to bursting. "Breakfast?" you suggest, though your gaze lingers on her lips.

Jenna laughs, a sound of pure joy. "Food can wait," she says, pulling you back in for another kiss. "I'd rather savor this moment a little longer."

You lose yourself in Jenna's kiss, the rest of the world fading away until it's just the two of you, wrapped in each other's arms. Her lips are soft and insistent against yours, her tongue teasing the seam of your mouth until you part your lips to let her in.

A small moan escapes you as Jenna deepens the kiss, her hands sliding up your back to tangle in your hair. You can feel the heat of her body through the thin fabric of your sleep shirts, the curves of her hips pressing into your own.

Dimly, you register the sound of a phone buzzing somewhere in the room, a reminder of the outside world waiting beyond the closed door. But you push it aside, too lost in Jenna's embrace to care.

After a long moment, you both surfaced for air, your chests heaving. Jenna's eyes are dark, her pupils blown wide with desire. "I want you," she whispers, her voice low and husky. "I want you so badly."

Your heart races at her words, at the raw need in her voice. "I want you too," you breathe, your hands sliding down to cup her face. "So much."

Jenna takes your hand in hers, guiding it slowly down her body. Her skin is warm and soft beneath your fingertips, and you can feel the rapid beating of her heart as you trail your hand lower, over the swell of her breasts and the dip of her waist.

She lets out a soft gasp as your hand skims over the hem of her sleep shirt, dipping just beneath the fabric to brush against the smooth skin of her stomach. Her grip on your hand tightens, urging you higher, until your palm is cupping the weight of her breast.

You can feel her nipple hardening against your touch, the sensitive bud straining against the thin cotton of her shirt. Jenna arches into your hand, a soft moan escaping her lips as you knead her flesh.

"Please," she whimpers, her hips grinding against yours in a slow, deliberate motion. "Touch me, Y/N. Make me feel good."

Your own desire is a hot, pulsing need between your legs, but you force yourself to focus on Jenna, on bringing her pleasure. With a gentle tug, you pull her shirt up over her head, exposing the creamy expanse of her skin to your hungry gaze.

"You're so beautiful," you murmur, your hands skimming over the curve of her breasts, the dip of her waist, the flare of her hips. "I can't believe I get to touch you like this."

Jenna shivers under your touch, her skin pebbling with goosebumps as your hands explore every inch of her bare flesh. She reaches for you, tugging impatiently at the hem of your own sleep shirt, desperate to feel your skin against hers.

You comply eagerly, lifting your arms so she can pull the shirt over your head. As soon as it's gone, Jenna's hands are on you, tracing the contours of your chest, your stomach, your sides. She leans in, pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses along your collarbone, down the center of your chest, until she reaches the valley between your breasts.

You gasp at the sensation, your head falling back as Jenna's lips and tongue work their magic on your sensitive skin. Her hands slide lower, slipping beneath the waistband of your sleep shorts to cup your ass, pulling you harder against her.

The ache between your legs is growing, your clit throbbing with need, but you focus on the feel of Jenna's body against yours, the way she makes you feel cherished and desired. You slide your hand between your bodies, palming Jenna's breast, thumbing over her nipple until it's hard and straining.

Jenna moans into your skin, her hips bucking against your hand. "I need you," she pants, her voice rough with want. "Please, Y/N. I need to feel you."

Your own need is a pulsing heat, your panties damp with arousal. With trembling fingers, you slip your hand into Jenna's shorts, groaning at the wet heat of her. She's soaked, her folds swollen and slick with desire.

"Fuck," you breathe, circling her clit with your thumb. "You're so wet for me."

You slide your fingers through Jenna's slick folds, teasing her entrance with the tips of your fingers. She's so wet, so ready for you, and the knowledge sends a thrill of desire straight to your core.

Slowly, carefully, you push one finger inside her, groaning at the tight heat of her walls. Jenna bites her lip, her hips rolling in a slow grind against your hand as you work her open. Her inner muscles flutter around your digit, drawing you deeper.

"More," she whispers, her eyes dark and pleading. "Please, Y/N. I need more."

You add a second finger, curling them just so, brushing against that spot deep inside that makes her see stars. Jenna's breath hitches, a small moan escaping her lips as you stroke her most sensitive places.

You kiss her deeply, swallowing her whimpers as you finger her faster, harder, pushing her towards the edge. Her hips move in time with your hand, her thighs trembling with the force of her arousal.

"That's it," you murmur against her lips. "Let go for me, Jenna. Come for me."

Jenna shudders, her walls clenching around your fingers as she comes with a soft cry. Her orgasm washes over her in waves, her body shuddering and twitching as she rides out the pleasure.

You hold her close, your fingers gentling their movements as she comes down, pressing soft kisses to her neck and collarbone. When she finally stills, you withdraw your hand, bringing your fingers to your mouth to taste her essence.

Jenna watches you with heavy-lidded eyes, her lips parted and her chest heaving. "That was... incredible," she breathes, reaching out to tangle her fingers in your hair. "But I'm not done with you yet."

With a wicked grin, she pushes you onto your back, settling between your thighs. "Your turn," she purrs, her fingers hooking into the waistband of your shorts. "And I plan to take my time."

—

#jenna ortega #jenna ortega x reader #x reader #jenna ortega x fem!reader #jenna ortega x y/n #jenna ortega smut #jenna ortega fanfic #wlw smut #wednesday addams x reader #tara carpenter x reader #x fem!reader #Spotify

228 notes · View notes

wcters · 5 hours ago

Text

𝗜 𝗖𝗔𝗡 𝗦𝗘𝗘 𝗬𝗢𝗨

paring: carlos sainz x fem!leclerc!reader

summary: you’re the twin of arthur leclerc . . . and you’re dating your other brothers teammate, though he doesn’t know that

request: carlos x leclerc!reader fic pleaseee! reader is arthur's twin and is secretly dating carlos

warnings: establish relationships, family fighting, jokes of assault | for everyone who sent requests, i am slowly making my way through them, i just have a lot going on so be patient 😚 merci

yourusername

liked by carlossainz55, arthur_leclerc, and 80,321 others

yourusername waiting for the weekend

view all 124 comments

leclerc_pascale ma fille intelligente 😘

↳ yourusername merci maman ❤️

user1 she always slays

user2 cute and smart??

arthur_leclerc what’s got you so excited?

↳ yourusername not telling 🤫

user3 cutie ❤️

↳ yourusername miss you 😔😔 we need to do another study date

user4 what university does she go to?

↳ user5 berkeley. it’s in california

f1gossip

liked by user1, user3, and 132,045 others

f1gossip carlos sainz seen in california over the summer break. any idea who he’s seeing?

view all 132 comments

user1 doesn’t he have friends in cali?

↳ user2 i think so

user3 he looks good ❤️

user4 he’s probably just visiting because he can

↳ user5 i would too if i had a jet at my disposal

user6 do you know where in caifornia?

user7 this is actually so random 🤨

user8 he looks so lost all the time 😭😭😭

yourusername

liked by carlossainz55, arthur_leclerc, and 102,995 others

yourusername weekend you ❤️

view all 145 comments

arthur_leclerc is that a man

arthur_leclerc who is that?

arthur_leclerc y/n

user1 arthur really panicking at the moment

↳ arthur_leclerc yes.

user2 you look so comfy in the second photo

↳ yourusername i was 😌

leclerc_pascale dis-lui que je lui dis bonjour 👋

↳ yourusername fera 🫡

↳ arthur_leclerc maman?

user3 . . . who’s that man?

yourfriend text me asap !!!!!!

poopy 👺

who was that man

i have no idea what you’re talking about

poopy 👺

yes you do

i’m your post on instagram

there was a man

it could be one of my girlfriends who’s masculine???

poopy 👺

😐😐😐

no it can’t

none of your friends look like that

how do you know that 🤨🤨

poopy 👺

that’s besides the point

why are you hiding this from me? i’m your twin brother

exactly.

charles, lorenzo, and you (especially) scare everyone off

poopy 👺

no we don’t

what about ryan? or jack?

poopy 👺

they weren’t good enough for you

they never are!

maman liked them and i did too and you made them leave

poopy 👺

does maman know about this one?

yes. now leave me alone arthur, i’m happy for once

i’m not letting you guys ruin this

carlossainz55

liked by yourusername, charles_leclerc, and 676,414 others

carlossainz55 quick recharge before heading back for some more racing!

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user1 why did he in cali the time i’m not there 😭😭

user2 boyfriend material

charles_leclerc ready for another week!

user3 is that a woman???

user4 that is not a man’s hand in that last photo ‼️

user5 wasn’t expecting to see a soft launch today

user6 that last pic is so random but okay

f1gossip

liked by user1, user2, and 141,034 others

f1gossip carlos sainz seen in berkeley, california with a mysterious girl. sources say the pair would very close and cuddled up with the other. any ideas on who the girl is?

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user1 girl what

user2 really pulling out those dance moves 🕺🕺🕺

user3 that kind of looks like y/n leclerc…

user4 why is it so hot that he’s lifting her up like she’s a feather

user5 this is actually so random

user6 when did this start?

user7 doesn’t y/n leclerc go to berkeley university?

yourusername

liked by arthur_leclerc, charles_leclerc, and 202,537 others

yourusername last photo is us waiting for arthur

view all 176 comments

arthur_leclerc i was not late you guys were too early

↳ yourusername 🤨🤨🤨

↳ charles_leclerc sure…

user1 where are y’all going now

↳ user2 probably the dutch grand prix? where else

user3 is arthur just chronically late?

↳ yourusername yes 😔

↳ charles_leclerc yes

↳ arthur_leclerc lies. all lies

user4 he really be kicking his feet

f1gossip

liked by user1, user4, and 123,084 others

f1gossip carlos sainz seen with the same girl he’d been with in california after the dutch grand prix. the couple was reported to be kissing and holding hands while out.

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user1 who is she???

user2 they’re very touchy

user3 he looks like he doesn’t know what’s happening

↳ user4 he always looks like that babe

user5 you have to admit they’re cute

arthur_leclerc

liked by yourusername, charles_leclerc, and 351,180 others

arthur_leclerc it’s my twin sisters birthday! lucky to have you as a sister. happy birthday ❤️

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yourusername i feel exposed and vulnerable

user1 stunnin since birth

↳ yourusername you know it 💅

yourusername thanks ig 🙄🙄

user2 THE GOGGLES

user3 gorgeous babes

charles_leclerc happy birthday little sis ❤️

↳ yourusername i’m still not forgiving you for the 3rd photo

user4 her and arthur were so cute as little kids ☺️☺️

↳ yourusername still are babe

↳ arthur_leclerc what do you mean were???

user5 iconic

leclerc_pascale joyeux anniversaire ma belle fille ❤️

↳ yourusername je t'aime maman ❤️😘

carlossainz55

liked by yourusername, arthur_leclerc, and 907,508 others

carlossainz55 feliz cumpleaños a mi bebé ❤️

happy birthday to my baby ❤️

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yourusername merci my love ❤️

arthur_leclerc It was YOU?!?!

user1 i’m actually shocked

user2 was not expecting this

user3 my jaw is on the floor

charles_leclerc we have to talk

user4 the leclerc brothers are planning an assult

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zoofzoofxx · 2 days ago

Text

—The art of eyecontact—

Pairings ; Axel Kovacevic x fem!reader

Summary ; After Sam insisted you accompany her to the club, you finally agreed, hoping it would help you move past everything that happened with Axel. However, a peculiar interaction with Kwon set off a series of unforeseen events that caught you entirely off guard.

Warnings ; Alcohol usage

Pt. 3

୨୧・・・・♡・・・・୨୧

‘Come onnnn, Y/n, don’t be boring,’ Sam whined, her voice dripping with exaggerated desperation as she gave me a firm shake. I was curled up tightly in my blanket, fully immersed in the comfort of my couch and a random movie that I wasn’t even paying much attention to. Her relentless persistence was beginning to chip away at my patience.

‘No,’ I replied flatly, shaking my head with finality. Sam was on a mission to drag me to the club tonight, but the idea of stepping into that crowded, chaotic environment was unappealing—especially because I’d seen Zara’s story earlier. She was there with her team, and of course, Axel was with her. The thought of seeing him so soon made my stomach churn. I wasn’t ready to face him yet. Tomorrow would already be challenging enough, and I needed time to steel myself mentally for what was inevitably going to be an awkward encounter.

‘Please, Y/n!!!’ Sam’s tone shifted to a dramatic plea as she sank to her knees, hands clasped together like she was begging for her life. Her exaggerated antics might have been amusing under different circumstances, but right now, they only added to my irritation. I barely glanced in her direction, still shaking my head in defiance.

Despite her theatrics, I remained unmoved. The mere thought of Axel lingering in the same room as me tonight was enough to make my resolve unshakable. Yet, as persistent as Sam was, I knew she wouldn’t give up without a fight.

Sam groaned dramatically, throwing herself onto the couch beside me, her arm draped across her face like the world had just come crashing down.

‘You’re such a buzzkill,’ she huffed, peeking at me from under her arm. ‘It’s one night, Y/n. Just one. You don’t even have to stay long, I swear. And let’s be real, you’re going to look amazing in that dress you bought on our first day here in Barcelona. It’s way too stunning to be wasted.’

I looked up from my cocoon of blankets, unimpressed. ‘The dress is still in the bag, Sam. And I’m wearing sweatpants.’

‘And that’s fixable,’ she shot back without missing a beat. ‘Ten minutes, max. I’ll help you get ready, you’ll look incredible, we’ll dance a little, and—’

I cut her off with a flat tone, ‘And I’ll have to deal with Axel.’

Her teasing expression faltered for a moment, the dramatic air she carried around her suddenly softening. Her voice was gentler now, almost careful. ‘Y/n, you don’t have to talk to him. You don’t even have to look at him. Zara’s going to be busy with her team, and Axel… well, let’s just say he’d be a fool to let anything ruin your night. He’s not worth it.’

I hugged my blanket tighter, staring at the muted movie playing on the screen. I wanted to go—part of me really did—but the idea of seeing Axel tonight made my stomach churn. It wasn’t that I didn’t know how to handle him; I just wasn’t ready. Not yet. Tomorrow, I’d have no choice but to face him, and that was already weighing on me. How could I mentally prepare for that if I had to deal with him tonight, too?

Sam didn’t say anything for a moment, letting the silence hang in the air between us. Then, she shifted, sitting upright and leaning toward me with a small, knowing smile.

Sam’s knowing smile widened as she leaned closer, her energy impossible to resist. ‘Listen,’ she said, her voice soft and encouraging. ‘We’ll keep it simple. Just get up, put on that stunning dress, and I’ll help you with everything else. Trust me, you’re going to feel amazing. We’ll have fun, and you’ll completely forget about… well, you-know-who.’

I hesitated, my eyes drifting to the chair where the shopping bag from earlier this week sat. Inside was the dress I’d bought on our first day here in Barcelona. It was from a cozy little boutique we’d stumbled across while wandering the streets—full of warm lighting, vintage mirrors, and racks of carefully curated pieces. The moment I’d seen the dress, I knew it was something special. It wasn’t flashy, but the soft white fabric and simple elegance had caught my attention. Sam had encouraged me to try it on, and though I’d hesitated, I couldn’t stop smiling once I saw myself in it.

‘I don’t know…’ I started, fiddling with the edge of my blanket.

‘Y/n,’ Sam said firmly, her tone kind but insistent. ‘You loved that dress. Don’t let it sit there when you could be out feeling as amazing as you look in it.’

Her words were enough to push me into motion. I sighed, tossing off the blanket and rising from the couch. ‘Okay, fine. But if this night turns into a disaster, I’m blaming you.’

Sam grinned triumphantly, clapping her hands together. ‘Fair enough! Now, let’s get to work.’

While she rummaged through her bag, pulling out makeup brushes and curling irons like a magician revealing her tricks, I grabbed the dress and headed to the bathroom. The silky white fabric felt cool against my skin as I slipped it on, the fit just as perfect as I remembered. When I stepped out, Sam froze mid-motion, her mouth falling open in mock astonishment.

‘Y/n,’ she said, drawing out my name dramatically, ‘you look like you just stepped out of a movie. That dress was made for you.’

I rolled my eyes with a small smile but couldn’t deny the hint of confidence her words gave me. ‘Alright, what’s next?’

‘Sit down,’ she instructed, waving me toward the chair in front of the vanity. ‘Hair and makeup, obviously. You’re in good hands.’

As Sam worked, her chatter filled the room, light and easy. She styled my hair into soft waves, adding just enough volume to make it feel glamorous but not overdone. For makeup, she went for a natural glow with a touch of shimmer on my eyelids and a classic swipe of mascara.

‘You know,’ she said as she blended the final touch of blush, ‘tonight’s not about anyone else. It’s about you having a good time. So, don’t overthink it. Just enjoy yourself—you deserve it.’

I met her eyes in the mirror, her sincerity catching me off guard. ‘Thanks, Sam,’ I said quietly.

‘Anytime,’ she replied with a grin, stepping back to admire her work. ‘Now, look at you! Ready to turn heads.’

I stood up, glancing at my reflection. The confidence I’d been missing started to creep back as I smoothed the fabric of the dress. ‘Alright,’ I said, grabbing my clutch with a newfound determination. ‘Let’s do this.’

Sam beamed, linking her arm with mine. ‘That’s the spirit. Now, let’s show Barcelona what you’re made of.’

We stepped out the door together, and for the first time that night, I felt like maybe it wouldn’t be so bad after all.

—

Sitting by the bar, sipping on an espresso martini, I found myself engaged in polite small talk with a few familiar faces from the opposing team. The atmosphere was loud and lively, filled with the thumping bass of the music and the hum of conversations around us. Sam and I had been chatting casually, laughing at something ridiculous she’d said, when she suddenly announced, ‘I need to call Miguel.’

I raised a brow at her. ‘Right now?’

‘Yes, right now,’ she said, grinning and waving her phone. ‘It’s important.’

The music was far too loud for her to have any hope of hearing him, so we decided to step outside. The crisp night air hit me the second we walked out, the stark contrast to the heat of the club sending a shiver down my spine.

Sam wandered a little further down the alley, pressing her phone to her ear and trying to find a quieter spot. I stayed back, leaning against a random wall as I waited for her. That’s when I felt it—the cold. It wasn’t just chilly; it was sharp, the kind of wind that made you regret not bringing a jacket.

Rubbing my hands together in a futile attempt to keep warm, I realized how much the alcohol had gotten to me. The espresso martinis I’d been nursing all night suddenly made my head feel heavy, and my thoughts a little sluggish. Drunk and cold was not the ideal combination, and I couldn’t help but shiver as I shifted my weight from one foot to the other, trying to stay warm.

The street around me was quiet, apart from the muffled music spilling out from the club doors behind me. I glanced over at Sam, who was pacing slightly as she talked animatedly into her phone. It was strange being out here, away from the chaos inside, but a part of me welcomed the break, even if it came with the chill.

I sighed, rubbing my arms as the cold wind sliced through me, making me shiver uncontrollably. The night felt even colder now that the alcohol in my system was wearing off, leaving me feeling a little disoriented. A yawn escaped my lips as I glanced toward Sam, who was still pacing further down the alley, her phone pressed to her ear.

The sudden sound of the club door opening made me turn my head, and there he was. Kwon.

He stepped outside, letting the door swing shut behind him, his sharp eyes scanning the area before landing squarely on me. He was wearing a black jacket with a bold Cobra Kai logo stitched on the chest, the emblem catching the dim light. His presence was unmistakable, commanding as always, though his expression was hard to read—part surprise, part amusement.

‘What are you doing out here?’ he asked, his tone blunt as he walked closer, his hands tucked into his jacket pockets.

I straightened up instinctively, the cold biting at my skin even harder under his gaze. ‘Just waiting for Sam,’ I said, motioning toward her as casually as I could. ‘She’s making a call.’

Kwon stopped a few feet away from me, tilting his head slightly as he looked me up and down. ‘You look like you’re about to freeze to death,’ he said flatly, a hint of mockery in his voice.

I laughed nervously, rubbing my arms to try and warm up. ‘Yeah, it’s colder than I expected.’

‘Clearly,’ he said, arching a brow. ‘Did you even think about bringing a jacket, or are you just bad at planning ahead?’

I frowned, his tone making my stomach twist uncomfortably. ‘I didn’t think I’d be standing out here for so long,’ I muttered, looking away.

‘Right,’ he said with a smirk, shrugging off his jacket and holding it out toward me. ‘Here. Take it before you turn into an icicle.’

I hesitated, glancing between him and the jacket. ‘I’m fine. You don’t have to—’

‘Don’t make this more complicated than it is,’ he cut me off, his voice sharp. ‘Just take it. It’s not like I’m doing this for you—I just don’t want to hear about how someone froze to death outside the club.’

His words stung a little, but the cold won out. Reluctantly, I took the jacket, slipping it on. It was warm, the fabric carrying a faint scent of him—clean and woodsy, though I tried not to think about it too much.

‘Thanks,’ I said quietly, avoiding his gaze.

He leaned back against the wall, crossing his arms over his chest. ‘You’re welcome,’ he said, though his tone didn’t carry much warmth. After a pause, he added, ‘Next time, maybe think ahead. You don’t seem like the type who handles cold well.’

I bit back a retort, pulling the jacket tighter around me. Kwon always had a way of getting under my skin, but at least now, I wasn’t shivering.

‘I’ll be leaving,’ Kwon announced, his voice cutting through the stillness of the night as he saw Sam making her way back toward us.

I glanced at him, still not entirely used to his bluntness, but before I could respond, he patted my shoulder arrogantly, the motion deliberate and a little too forceful. His touch lingered for a second longer than necessary, and I could feel the slight warmth of his hand through the fabric of his jacket.

Without waiting for a reply, he turned on his heel and started heading back toward the club. He didn’t look back, his strides purposeful and confident, as if he hadn’t just done me a small favor moments ago.

I opened my mouth, about to thank him for the jacket, but the words died on my lips as he disappeared into the club without a second glance.

I stood there for a moment, the jacket still draped over my shoulders, feeling the cold night air around me once more. I wasn’t sure why his arrogance stung, but it did. Sam was just reaching my side as I took a deep breath, trying to shake off the awkwardness.

Sam raised an eyebrow as she approached me, noticing the slight shift in my mood. ‘What’s up? You look like you’ve been hit with a wave of confusion.’

I shook my head, trying to brush it off. ‘Nothing, just… Kwon being Kwon.’

Sam tilted her head, a smirk forming on her lips. ‘Oh? Kwon being Kwon? What does that even mean?’

I sighed, glancing down at the jacket draped over my shoulders. The familiar Cobra Kai logo on the sleeve caught her attention instantly, and her eyes widened in surprise.

‘Wait a second,’ she said, her voice rising with shock. ‘You’re wearing his jacket?’

I felt a flush creep up my neck, suddenly self-conscious. ‘Yeah, he gave it to me,’ I muttered, feeling oddly defensive. ‘I was freezing, and he—’

‘Gave you his jacket?’ Sam interrupted, her eyes narrowing with suspicion. ‘Hmm, that’s… not something I would expect from him. What did he want from you?’

I blinked at her, momentarily thrown off by her question. ‘What do you mean, what did he want?’

She gave me a pointed look, clearly not buying my nonchalant tone. ‘Come on, Y/n. Kwon doesn’t just hand over his jacket for no reason. There has to be more to it than that.’

I hesitated, unsure how to explain it. He hadn’t really wanted anything, at least not directly. He had been his usual distant self, sarcastic and borderline mean, but there was something in the way he’d offered me his jacket that made me question his intentions. Maybe I was overthinking it.

‘I don’t know,’ I said slowly, feeling a bit uneasy. ‘He just noticed I was cold and… I guess he didn’t want me freezing out here.’

Sam raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. ‘Really? That’s it?’

I sighed, crossing my arms and glancing back toward the club. ‘Yeah, I guess so. It’s not a big deal.’

Sam didn’t seem entirely convinced, but she let it go for now. She looked me over one more time, her eyes lingering on the jacket as if trying to piece together some unspoken motive. ‘Well, I’m not complaining. It’s a good look for you, anyway,’ she said with a wink, clearly trying to lighten the mood.

I rolled my eyes but couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at my lips. ‘Thanks, I guess.’

I could tell Sam wasn’t a big fan of Kwon, and I had a feeling her compliment about me looking good in his jacket wasn’t exactly genuine. She was just trying to distract me, to get my mind off Axel. It was clear in the way she’d casually brushed it off, as if the whole thing with Kwon was no big deal. But the truth was, it wasn’t that simple.

I tugged the jacket a little tighter around myself, feeling its warmth but also the odd weight of it, like it carried more meaning than just the fabric against my skin. The whole encounter with Kwon had been strange. There was something in the way he’d acted—his arrogance, his nonchalance—that made it feel less like a simple act of kindness and more like a gesture wrapped in layers of unspoken tension.

As we walked back toward the club, Sam chattered on about the night, about how great it was that I’d decided to come out and how much fun we were going to have. But I couldn’t focus on her words. My mind kept drifting back to Kwon’s indifferent attitude and the way he’d just left without a second thought, and then there was the nagging thought about Axel.

Axel.

The thought of seeing him again tomorrow had already been enough to set my nerves on edge, but now, with Kwon’s jacket wrapped around me, it felt like there was something pulling me in two different directions. I didn’t know what to make of any of it.

Sam nudged me playfully, clearly unaware of the storm brewing in my head. ‘Come on, don’t let that jackass mess with your vibe. We’re here to have fun, remember?’

I smiled faintly, trying to force myself back into the present, but the weight of the jacket, of Kwon’s words, and the unspoken tension between me and Axel stayed with me. It wasn’t that easy to forget.

We stepped back into the club, and the contrast hit me immediately—a hot, suffocating wave of air, thick with the mix of bodies, music, and lights. It was a sharp reminder of how loud and alive everything was in here compared to the quiet, chilly night outside.

Feeling the heat creep up on me, I slipped off Kwon’s jacket, draping it over my arm. The faint scent of it still lingered, grounding me in a way I didn’t fully understand. I opened Instagram on my phone, typing out a quick message to him: Hey, is there a chance we could meet later? I have your jacket. I hit send but noticed it stayed unread. Typical Kwon.

Before I could dwell on it too long, something else grabbed my attention. Sam was weaving her way back toward me through the crowd, grinning like she’d just won the lottery. In each hand, she held a shot glass, the liquid inside glinting under the strobe lights.

‘Look what I got!’ she said, her voice cutting through the music as she handed me one. ‘Cheers to us, Y/n!’

I hesitated, eyeing the glass suspiciously. I knew my limits, especially after everything I’d already had tonight. ‘I don’t know, Sam,’ I started, shaking my head. ‘I think I’ve had enough.’

But Sam, ever persistent, rolled her eyes before knocking back her own shot effortlessly. ‘Come on,’ she coaxed, her tone playful and teasing. ‘It doesn’t even taste like alcohol. I swear.’

She stuck her tongue out dramatically, proving her point, and I couldn’t help but laugh a little. She was clearly in her element, and her energy was infectious. Relenting, I finally raised the glass. ‘Fine. Just this one.’

‘That’s my girl!’ Sam cheered, pulling me into a quick side hug as I downed the shot. True to her word, it didn’t have the harsh kick I’d been expecting, just a subtle sweetness that lingered.

I smiled faintly, raising the now-empty glass in a half-hearted cheer. ‘To us, I guess.’

Sam clinked her empty glass against mine, her enthusiasm practically radiating off her. I, on the other hand, found my focus slipping as I clutched Kwon’s jacket in one hand and tried to lose myself in the moment. But my thoughts kept circling back to Axel.

What was he doing right now? Was he here somewhere in this chaotic crowd, or was he still out with Zara and the others? No matter how much I tried to shake it off, the thought of him loomed in the back of my mind, pulling me in a direction I wasn’t sure I wanted to go.

‘Soooo… another shot?’ Sam asked, her tone mischievous as she swayed a little, clearly enjoying herself.

I shrugged, feeling the buzz of the night taking over. ‘Sure!’ I replied, grinning and forgetting entirely that I was supposed to be keeping track of my limits.

Sam disappeared for a moment and came back with a different color this time—a vivid blue shot that glowed under the club lights. I took it in my hand, ready to drink, when Zara suddenly appeared out of nowhere.

She was as drunk as we were, her excitement bubbling over as she hugged me tightly. Her words were slurred, tumbling out in a chaotic, happy mess.

‘Whoa… re-repeat what you just said!’ I laughed, holding the shot in one hand as I tried to make sense of her rambling.

I was about to drink it when a firm hand stopped me. Turning, I saw Kwon standing there, his expression sharp and unamused.

‘I think you’ve had enough,’ he said curtly, snatching the shot glass from my hand before I could even protest. He placed it on a nearby table with a deliberate motion, clearly unwilling to argue.

From the corner of my eye, I noticed Sam grabbing the abandoned drink without hesitation and knocking it back, oblivious to Kwon’s disapproval.

‘Oh! Kwon!’ I said, suddenly remembering the jacket. I grabbed it and shoved it into his hands with a bright smile. ‘Thank you for warming me up earlier.’

He looked at me with a mixture of exasperation and something unreadable, but I didn’t give him time to respond. Turning to Sam, I grabbed her wrist. ‘Sam, let’s go outside. I don’t feel well,’ I said, pressing a hand to my temple.

The club felt overwhelming—the heat, the pounding music, the blur of lights and voices. My head was spinning, and the sensation was too much.

I managed a weak smile at Zara and Kwon before guiding Sam toward the exit. Once outside, I collapsed against the same wall I had been leaning on earlier. The freezing night air hit my skin like a splash of cold water, helping to clear my mind, if only slightly.

I sat there, eyes closed, focusing on my breathing as Sam lingered nearby. A few minutes later, I heard footsteps, and when I looked up, Kwon and Tory were walking toward me. Kwon carried a bottle of water, his usual sharp demeanor still intact, while Tory’s expression was softer, filled with concern.

Tory knelt beside me, gently grabbing my hand as she offered the water. ‘Drink some water,’ she said firmly.

I barely registered the sound of more people spilling out of the club, their footsteps crunching against the pavement as they approached. My eyes stayed closed, my body too heavy, the cold air lulling me toward sleep against the wall. That is, until a familiar scent drifted past my pink-tinted nose—a warm, intoxicating mix of something unmistakably Axel.

My eyes snapped open, and there he was, kneeling beside me. His hand rested gently on my knee, its warmth cutting through the chill in the air. Axel’s expression was calm but serious, his gaze flicking to Tory as he murmured something about getting me, Sam, and Zara home safely.

Tory nodded, giving me one last reassuring smile as she rose to her feet. Kwon followed her without a word, his jacket slung over his shoulder, and they both disappeared back into the club.

I blinked sluggishly, trying to piece together what was happening, but before I could form a coherent thought, Axel scooped me up effortlessly. My head lolled against his shoulder as the steady rhythm of his footsteps replaced the chaotic noise of the night.

The crisp night air carried his scent, a mix of cologne and something inherently him. I found myself leaning into it, breathing it in as my eyelids fluttered. My thoughts grew hazy, and the world around me blurred into a comforting haze.

The next thing I knew, we were in the quiet sanctuary of my hotel room. Axel carefully laid me down on the bed, his movements gentle and precise, as if afraid I might shatter. The softness of the mattress beneath me felt like a cloud, pulling me further into the depths of sleep.

Zara appeared out of nowhere, rushing to my side and enveloping me in a drunken hug. Her voice was a jumble of words I couldn’t quite make out, but the warmth of her embrace was familiar and comforting.

Axel gently but firmly pulled her away, his touch protective yet restrained. As Zara stumbled back, he leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to my forehead.

I blinked up at him, catching the subtle shift in his eyes. They weren’t cold or indifferent like they usually were—they held something different, something warmer, something… admiring. He didn’t smile, but the look was enough to stir something in my chest.

I muttered something under my breath, barely audible even to myself. Maybe it was, ‘Sleep tight.’ Maybe it was nothing at all.

As I rolled over, hugging the small teddy bear I always kept on my bed, the faint sound of Axel’s footsteps retreating faded into the quiet of the room. My last thought before sleep took over completely was the lingering feel of his presence and the way his eyes had looked at me—like I wasn’t just another fleeting part of the night.

#x fem!reader #x female reader #x y/n #x you #couple #cute #fluff #axel kovacevic #axel #couple goals #cobra kai #miyagi do #netflix #fanfic #fanfiction

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bbkoolkatz · 1 day ago

Text

synopsis: professor Izuku gave permission to privately text him if you had any questions...

pairing: professor! Izuku Midoriya x student! reader. college AU!

cw: fluff to angst!

ruining my aesthetic with a bit o' green

mlist!

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stellar-constellations · 2 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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murphybabygirl · 1 day ago

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Well that.... Should have been expected

Request from: @honeywhim

TW: Smut, Fem receiving oral, rough sex.

Word count:1166.

Tommy’s hands moved with a feverish urgency, yanking the buttons of YN’s blouse apart one by one. The fabric strained and then gave way, cascading to the floor in a heap of white linen. His gaze traced the curve of her neck, down to the swell of her breasts barely contained by the lacy bra that now pressed against her skin. He could feel the heat radiating from her body, a magnetic pull that drew him closer.

“Fuck, you’re beautiful,” he muttered, his voice thick with desire as he leaned in to press a rough kiss to her collarbone. His fingers fumbled with the clasp of her bra, finally managing to release it. The garment fell away, revealing the soft, pale flesh of her breasts. Tommy’s breath hitched as he took in their perfection, the nipples already tight and pebbled from the cool air and his intense scrutiny.

He didn’t give her time to adjust, didn’t let her prepare for what was coming next. Instead, he stepped back just long enough to strip off his own shirt, tossing it aside carelessly. His muscles rippled under the dim light, shadows playing across the hard lines of his abdomen. Then, without warning, he scooped her up into his arms, carrying her to the bed with a strength that belied his earlier state of mind.

YN let out a surprised gasp as he deposited her onto the mattress, his hands immediately returning to her body with a possessive grip. He spread her legs wide, kneeling between them as he looked down at her with a fierce intensity. “You’re mine tonight,” he growled, his eyes darkening with intent.

His hands slid down her thighs, thumbs pressing into the sensitive flesh as he worked his way toward the hem of her skirt. With a swift motion, he pushed the fabric up over her hips, exposing the delicate lace of her panties. He paused for only a moment, taking in the sight before him. Her sex was already damp, a testament to how turned on she was. He could smell her arousal in the air, a heady mix of sweat and desire that made his cock twitch with anticipation.

Without further ado, Tommy hooked his fingers into the waistband of her panties and dragged them down her legs, leaving her completely bare before him. He tossed the scrap of fabric aside, his gaze never leaving her glistening mound. “So fucking wet for me,” he murmured, leaning down to brush his lips against her clit.

YN shuddered at the touch, her hands flying to his shoulders as she tried to steady herself. But Tommy wasn’t interested in gentleness. He was a man on a mission, driven by lust and longing that had been building for far too long. He teased her clit with the tip of his tongue, flicking it in quick, sharp bursts that had her arching off the bed in response.

His hands moved to grip her hips, holding her in place as he continued his assault on her senses. He plunged his tongue deep into her heat, exploring every inch of her velvet tunnel. She tasted sweet and tangy, like the most intoxicating wine, and he couldn’t get enough. He devoured her greedily, his mouth working in tandem with his fingers as he reached up to pinch her nipples, rolling them between his thumb and forefinger until she was panting and writhing beneath him.

“Tommy... please...” YN begged, her voice hoarse with need. “I can’t take it anymore.”

But Tommy only grinned, his eyes glinting with mischief. “Oh, you’ll take it,” he said, his voice dripping with promise. “You’ll take everything I give you.”

With that, he pulled back, rising to his full height as he undid his trousers. They fell to the floor in a heap, leaving him gloriously naked, his cock standing proudly erect. YN’s eyes widened as she took in its length and girth, her breath catching in her throat. It was always a shock, how much he filled her, how much he stretched her.

Tommy positioned himself between her legs, guiding the tip of his cock to her entrance. He could feel how tight she was, how she clenched around him even before he began to push inside. It was almost painful, the way she fought him, but he knew she wanted this. She needed this.

“Relax for me, love,” he whispered, his voice softening for just a moment. “Let me in.”

YN nodded, her hands gripping the sheets as she tried to comply. Slowly, agonizingly slowly, Tommy began to push forward. The head of his cock breached her entrance, slipping past the first barrier with a slick, wet sound. She whimpered, her body jerking in reaction to the stretch, but he held firm, waiting until she adjusted before pushing deeper.

Inch by inch, he buried himself inside her, feeling every ridge and fold of her inner walls clinging to him. It was like being wrapped in silk, every movement sending sparks of sensation through his body. When he was fully seated, he paused, savoring the feel of her tight pussy squeezing him.

“Fuck, you’re so tight,” he groaned, his forehead resting against hers as he caught his breath. “So goddamn tight.”

YN could only nod, her eyes fluttering closed as she tried to process the fullness, the overwhelming pleasure mixed with pain. But Tommy wasn’t done. Not by a long shot.

He pulled back, nearly all the way out, before thrusting forward again with a harsh grunt. The motion was rough, almost violent, as he claimed her body with brutal force. Each thrust drove deep, hitting spots inside her that made her cry out in mingled pain and ecstasy.

“Harder,” she panted, her nails digging into his back as she urged him on. “Please, Tommy, harder.”

Her words were like fuel to his fire, stoking the flames of his desire until he could barely control himself. He slammed into her with renewed vigor, his pace increasing as he pounded into her with reckless abandon. The bed groaned under their combined weight, the headboard smacking against the wall with each powerful thrust.

YN’s cries grew louder, more desperate, as she climbed higher and higher towards orgasm. Her legs wrapped around his waist, pulling him deeper still, her heels drumming against his ass as she matched his rhythm. Her entire body trembled, waves of pleasure crashing over her as she teetered on the edge.

“Tommy, I’m going to... I’m going to...” she gasped, her voice breaking as she struggled to form the words.

But Tommy wasn’t listening. He was lost in his own world of lust, his mind consumed by the primal urge to claim her, to make her his. He could feel his own climax building, the pressure coiling tighter and tighter in his balls. He gave one final, savage thrust, burying himself deep inside her as he roared his release.

“Grace!” he shouted, his voice cracking with the force of his orgasm. “Oh, fuck, Grace!”

#cillian murphy #tommy shelby #peaky fookin blinders #peaky fucking blinders #god hes so pretty #peaky blinders #thomas shelby #fanfic #fandom #fanfiction #oneshot #x reader #fem reader #x fem!reader #x female reader #x female y/n

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lazydoodlesandfanfic · 1 day ago

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Guided Horse Riding (Mycroft Holmes X Fem!Reader)

Characters: Mycroft Holmes

Universe: Sherlock

Warnings: Mention of murder, stabbings, horses

Request: hello dear can i get mycroft/fem reader? reader has a horse and force mycroft into him we want to see a scared the british government💖 [name is mira and a horse with white yellow mane]

Notes: (Uh.... happy early holidays, I'm not dead? Sorry for being gone for so long I genuinely feel so awful for being gone for so long plz forgive me ok thanks bye)

Mycroft had wondered what had led him to the very situation he was in right at this very moment, and he had mentally been piecing it together in his head, till he reached the first domino that started this all.

The first domino- no surprises here- was Sherlock, who had realised that there had been a pattern in some recent stabbings, with them all happening in public, packed places, and the more people, the more victims- the first was on the underground, the second was at the opening of an art gallery, and then a charity marathon. Sherlock had deduced that the next attack would almost certainly be at the parade happening, and he slapped together a rough description for what to look out for, and dragged Mycroft along to get him access to more secure areas- which included the stables that held the horses meant to be taking part in the parade, and that had been where he had met you.

You had been there checking in on your horse- Mira, to make sure she was comfortable, calm and ready for such an event, though you knew it was more like you with the nerves than her, this being the first time either of you had took part in an event like this. So when you had the Holmes brother approach you, asking who you were and what you were doing back here, before asking if you’d seen anyone around you didn’t recognise, you were understandably alarmed. One was dressed mostly like any other bystander (who therefor shouldn’t be back there) and the other was dressed formally and seemed to be softening and adding politeness and context that the other, more brash man was missing. You quickly realised that Sherlock was acting mostly that way because he was in a rush, and that something bad was going to happen if he didn’t get answers in time, and luckily, you had remembered a previous interaction with a man just earlier in the day- one that had rubbed you the wrong way with how he spoke, and you pointed them in his direction. Sherlock immediately sped walked away, while Mycoft took the time to shake your hand, thank you for your cooperation, and wish you luck in the parade.

The parade itself went off without a hitch- at least from your perspective it did. Mira was an angel, behaved and also let children pet her and families take pictures with her. The only thing you noticed that was a little off, was that there was a lot more police there than you predicted, and they all seemed bunched up in one area, but you just assumed it was a safety precaution, and since nothing bad happened, you presumed it was all good. You didn’t find out exactly what had happened until you were packing up for the day, walking your horse over to her trailer, and Mycroft spotted you, and came over to speak to you.

That was the second domino. After giving you the rundown, explaining how you had basically stopped a mass stabbing thanks to you pointing the man out earlier the day, and after explaining who exactly Sherlock was, and who he was, you got to ask your own question, which began a conversation that resulted in you sharing your phone numbers to pick it up over coffee- the third domino.

Countless other dominos had been set up and knocked down since then- dates, kisses, admissions of love, and it all- somehow- led Mycroft to where he was now, watching you set Mira up for him, so he could ride her for the first time as you reassured him she was a nice, gentle horse, which he knew, but that didn’t help his nerves.

“You ready?” You ask, patting the neck of the horse after setting up the stool beside her, turning to look at Mycroft

“Not really.” Mycroft responded, sounding far from confident, but despite that, he still took your hand and let you guide him onto the stool, and position his foot into the stirrup.

“Alright, hold the reins, and swing your leg over, I’ll make sure you don’t fall.” You explained to him, and after a moment of hesitation, Mycroft took a deep breath, and did as you ordered, and you kept your promise and helped him onto the saddle. Mira kept perfectly still as Mycroft got settled, and sat stiffly. “See, that wasn’t so bad.” You commented, chuckling as Mycroft only managed a small, unconvinced noise of agreement.

“Does this mean I can get off now?” Mycroft asked, glancing at you at the corner of his eye.

“Well you can… do you want to try and get off, or get comfortable first?” You asked. Mycroft, upon realising that he’d have to get off the horse, which meant him mostly going backwards, and guessing his own footwork of a horse with little help that you could provide, Mycroft froze for a moment, before sighing.

“Fine. I’ll get a little comfortable first.” Mycroft gave in, and you grinned at him, before taking a hold of Mira’s reigns.

“We’ll just walk on the outskirts in a circle at a slow pace.” You explained, before making Mira slowly start moving, trotting along beside you. You did a full lap of the small field you were in before looking back up at Mycroft, who’s shoulders weren’t as stiff anymore, and he didn’t look constipated anymore. “You’re doing great, honey.” You told him, his eyes coming and look at you, and he managed a small smile.

“Yes, it’s… not as bad as I thought it would be.” Mycoft admitted. You chuckle a little, gently patching the side of Mira’s neck.

“You can thank Mira for the positive experience. I knew she’d be able to handle a nervous rider. It’s also why she’s great with kids. I’m just glad you trusted me enough to let me put you on her.” You commented, looking up at him. Mycroft looked back at you, a small smile appearing on his lips.

“Of course I trust you. I love you.” He responded, his voice warm, which caused you to smile.

“Well since I love you too, how about after this lap I’ll get you off Mira so we can go inside and relax for the rest of the afternoon?” You suggest. Mycroft takes a moment to consider your words, before looking down at the horse, and pauses for a moment.

“...I think I can handle a few more laps.”

Hope you liked it! If you have any questions, please send them in!

*Not my gif

TAGS: @holy-tea-cup @sassy-specter @keenmarvellover @multifandomfix @sleutherclaw @otterly-fey @courtneychicken @graysonmalfoy @bellero @originalpottervengerlock @supernatural-pan @esoltis280 @lady-of-lies @lenaswritingandstuff @macbetheliza @mandywholock1980 @cdwmtjb8 @caswinchester2000 @determinedpines @huntheimpossible @automaticbakeryfreakshoe

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blueparadis · 11 months ago

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when you sit on his lap, legs spread apart from each other, folded and glued along his thighs your dragon!boyfriend knows that it is time for some "instinct inspection" or as you like to put it but he knows that it will eventually end up being much more than that; it always does: either end up him getting hard when you are done or you hurt yourself spilling blood in drops. tsk, what a waste!

but today, it is going to be more than that. . .

"Say ahh," you would order, just like other days, before grazing your index finger against his fangs. At first, it does not grow, you just feel the sharp edge of his fangs on your supple skin. what a tease you are! It grows when you pull away your hand and adjust on his lap for a better grip and angle.

"Bad manners," you would say whenever you spot him letting go of his human form. he even remembers hearing that when he lowly growling in front of strangers who were following you the other night but at times like these, when the whole world is busy, when no one is looking at you two—he can let go of it; that carefully crafted camouflaged self to fool your kind and let his dormant side take over.

"It is just a bite," he would say after sucking your blood from your wrist as he held your arm by the wrist. But it is kind of frustrating, don't you think? how you are sitting on his lap, checking if he has hunted any animals or eaten your kind or not. And when you see he has been such a good boy, slowly learning to control his habits and instincts, don't you think it's a little unfair when you don't reward him? He licks the trickling blood along your hand from up your elbow to your wrist; you can see two dots, fairly distanced and round but somehow it does not hurt.

To think that you would teach him about 'control' and 'instinct', what a naive human being you are.

Even though you are still sitting on his lap, one of his hands holding yours from where he freshly sucked your sweet blood and your other hand is holding his yet you feel something tightening around your belly. You do not stop him as his tail wraps around your body, his eyes slowly getting to glow, his skin changing, shining but before he changes completely you kiss him, kiss him with full might as if you will do the moment your lips part from his.

And when you pull away, he just takes deep breaths and says, "One more time," gulping he adds, "Please," now how could you turn that down even though he has been quite rebellious.

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etfrin · 7 months ago

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— ʙʟɪꜱꜱ | ᴅᴏᴘᴘᴇʟɢᴀɴɢᴇʀ! ꜰʀᴀɴᴄɪꜱ

✧— ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢ: NSFW | cunnilingus, mentions of blood, murder. tongue fucking, monster tongue. hints of overstimulation, art from Pinterest | lmk if I forgot anything

✧— ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: doppelganger Francis makes you open the door...

✧— ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 0.7k

✧— ᴀ/ɴ: please give feedback, it's been over a month since I wrote

「ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ | ɴᴀᴠɪɢᴀᴛɪᴏɴ | ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ」

The doppelganger should have known better than to show up with ‘scarlet milk’ all over his disguise. He had taken care of the D.D.D of this building already. He just needed to convince the pretty girl behind the screen to let him and cause havoc.

He leans in, his face dangerously close to the glass and he smirks. His eyes are dark and a smirk forms on his face. “Just let me in. Does the D.D.D even treat you well? You deserve to be worshiped and I am willing to be on my knees.”

You swallow as you look at him, only a layer of glass separating you and him. There was a familiar ache between your legs from his words. You couldn't remember the last time you had time for yourself, this simple desk job consuming all your time. You tried to remind yourself that this man is a monster.

But if the monster is ready to be a slut… who are you to refuse?

You press the button that gives him access to your office. You glance at the red button, knowing that the moment you're done having fun with him. You'll have to press it.

The milkman, you know his name is Francis, walks in. He doesn't take any time to press you against the desk. The wood digging into your back.

“Pretty human,” he murmurs, his head dipping in between the space of your shoulder. His lips press a soft kiss. You gasp when you feel his sharp teeth on your skin. If he wanted to, he could tear your flesh.

You let out a breath, your heart beating against your chest. You tilt your head to give him more access to your neck. He takes advantage to lick at your salty skin with his long tongue. “Tasty,” he whispered against your ear. For a moment fear freezes you, thinking that he would eat you alive.

Instead, he gets on his knees. The loud thud makes you wince. “I'll treat you better,” he said, “Be a good girl for me.”

You nod before you can even think.

He gets under your skirt, his breath fanning your wet panties. He pressed his lips to the stain of your arousal. His tongue begins to lick you all over your clothed pussy. You put your hands on the desk, your head thrown back as you moan without shame. You feel weak on the knees. The monster has you caged even though it is your thighs around his head.

He continues to press small kisses all over, and the tip of his tongue puts pressure on your sensitive clit, making you cry out. The wet, rough texture of your panties felt so good against your bud. Then he finally decides that it's enough teasing.

He uses his fingers to pull your underwear out of the way. He chuckled when he saw your wet pussy clenching around nothing. You feel yourself getting hotter.

He eats you out without a care. His strokes are short and impatient. You begin to move your hips, grinding your cunt on his tongue. He groans. His hands are on your thighs and his grip on your flesh tightens. He raises his hands until he's cupping the cheeks of your ass. He kneads the soft flesh as he begins to use his tongue to flick at your clit until it's swollen.

Only when he's satisfied, he kisses the bud and begins to fuck his tongue into your walls. It was no easy feat, but you were so wet and it felt like his tongue was longer than normal humans. He chokes on you, his tongue making out with your tight walls. You cry out from the pleasure, knowing that you'll never feel something like this ever again.

Your eyes roll back, your pussy walls flexing on his tongue. You were so close and you knew you surely were suffocating him with the way you pressed your thighs against his head.

“Please- please-” you begin to plead, your body begging to be released. You would begin to cry if the monster denied you this. His tongue reached deeper inside of your walls than any cock did. He pressed his tongue to a soft, sensitive spot and you got dizzy from the jolts of pleasure. You see white in your vision as you begin to cum. You would have lost your balance if it weren't for him.

He milks your essence on his tongue. He makes sure there's not a single drop left when he stops. You had tears in your eyes as you looked down at him. His lips glisten with your juices. He smirked.

“Let me kill those worthless humans. There's more to that where it came from.”

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quimichi · 8 months ago

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NSFW - MDNI

He's obsessed with your voice. He loves the way you whimper and just struggle your words out. He loves to to tease, he LIVES to tease you. He's so mean whe he asks what you want, just so he can deny it and command you to beg for it.

He's buried deep inside of you, barely able to hold himself up, panting heavily. He looks down at the pretty face you're making and he can't help but think that the only thing that would make it better is the sound of your beautiful voice.

"Tell me what you want, baby" he breathes in your ear, dropping his head down to your neck. He stopped moving. His hot breath hitting your heated skin. "I asked you somethin'~" he hums leaning back down to press kiss over your shoulder. You can practically feel his smirk in his voice.

"Please-" is all you're able to stutter out at first and it makes him grin onto your skin as he lifts his head to shake it at you. "Naw, I couldn't quite hear you princess,.. you should use bigger words for your needs?" there's this pout on his face, he's mocking you. Out of desperation you kiss him, in hopes that he could possibly forget about your loss of words.

He indulges you for a few seconds before pulling away and raising his eyebrow at you. That's when you realise he's serious; he really won't move an inch until you tell him exactly what you want. "Please-, just.. fuck me" you whine, you know it won't be enough for him but you hope it is because if he doesn't move in the next thirty seconds you feel you might combust. You honestly don't know what will combust, but something is definitely blowing up and its also gonna be you.

"Good start, baby, but it's not enough" he chuckles at your responding whine and buries his head into you neck chuckling. Although this is more than entertaining, he also has to hide the fact this is just as agonizing for him like it is for you. "How do you want it, hm? Tell me how you want me to fuck you." "Please, just fuck me. Fuck me hard. Fuck me dumb. Fuck me so hard you break me, the bed or the wall. I don't care just please fuck me" you desperately shout out in embarrassment.

He lets out an elated laugh, this is exactly what he wants to hear. He leans in to kiss you and ends up muffling the happy whine you let out when he finally starts moving. But quickly you feel dizzy, you're beyond coherent words at this point. You can't even think straight. He feels so good inside you that you almost go crazy. You instinctively grab at his skin, raking your nails over his shoulder blades. He loves being able to get you like this, he loves listen to you break like this. You and the pretty noises you make are all his to enjoy....

Kageyama, Tsukishima, Matsukawa, Kuroo, Atsumu, Suna, Tendou, Terushima (haikyuu)

Kaeya, Al-Haitham, Ayato, Itto, Scaramouche, Wriothesley, Dottore, Pantalone (genshin)

Geto, Nanami, Gojo, Toji (JJK)

Hisoka, Chrollo, Feitan, Phinks (HxH)

Rafayel (love and deepspace)

Leona, Lilia, Jade, Floyd, Ace, Trey (twst wonderland)

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peachpitfics · 6 months ago

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Guilty as Sin

Fandom: Bridgerton

Summary: Benedict Bridgerton asks you to accompany him to his private studio, to show you some of the art he's been working on. You find a little more than you were expecting.

Length: 3k

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x fem!reader

Content Warnings: Oral sex (female receiving), Penetrative sex, Unprotected sex.

a/n: find pt 2 here!

Bridgerton master list

"Good evening, y/n," A proud voice echoed behind you, discovering your hiding spot in the darkest corner, admiring Lady Danbury's art to appear busy. You didn't bother to turn and greet him, he always seemed to find you at these social events, even if you weren't outwardly interested in him, he persisted. Benedict Bridgerton slid into the space next to you as if it were designed for him, cheekily scanning you face for a reaction.

You met at Lady Danbury's ball 3 seasons previous. Your brother was holding out hope for a match this season, ignoring your contentedness for your own company. Benedict had never shown any interest in any young lady - he did, however, find amusement in torturing you this way.

"Bridgerton," You barely mumbled a response, hoping he would find another to bother this evening. Yet there he remained, exchanging his attention for the painting you were looking at.

"There are far better paintings in this ballroom" He remarked, a little scoff sounding off.

"Yes, I am sure there are. However, this one is positioned perfectly" Still, you avoided eye contact and angled your body away from him. He was definitely not the same as the other Bridgerton men. Benedict was frivolous and artistic, lost in his own hedonistic world of luxury and pleasure. Perhaps it was jealousy that ruled your opinion of Benedict.

"Ah, yes. I truly have never seen a damp, dark corner without you in it, you know?" He chuckled, "Why do you pretend to be interested in art, when you could be watching whatever is unfolding behind you? I'm sure the numerous scandals and embarrassing events you would witness would be far more interesting" He asked, there was even a hint of genuine curiosity in his words.

You paused for a moment, contemplating even continuing this conversation or leaving to find your brother or mother.

"Actually, I rather enjoy art. I am more interested in sculpture or ceramics, but I will endure whatever I have to to get through this evening and every other evening like it this season" You spilled. Benedict was stunned, his eyebrows raised and his blinks steady in shock.

"I didn't know you had a like for such things" Benedict said serenely.

"Of course not, I am certain you thought my only interests were embroidery or pianoforte, like every other simpering mess in this ballroom" You thought your snarky remark was under your breath, but Benedict did manage to hear. He breathed a heady laugh through his nose and took a sip of his lemonade.

"Would you be interested in viewing some of my works?" Benedict pondered aloud, finally dragging your eyes to meet his. It seemed sincere - which was not something you often saw from him. Whilst he was a shameless flirt, you never indulged him like some of the other young ladies. It was obvious that he viewed you as some sort of challenge, but you would never give in.

"Is that a serious invitation?" You asked, taken aback.

"Yes, absolutely. Art is potentially the only thing I do take seriously. I would love to show you, if you would like to see it" He almost bowed, as if the pursuit of his art was the most noble thing about him. This shift in his personality made him less repulsive, it intrigued you. Turning to face him, for the first time in so many months, throwing off his balance slightly, you held your hand out for him to take.

"You would like to see it now?" His brow furrowed, eyes asking permission to take your hand and lead you out to the carriages.

"Why not? We've been to this ball numerous times before, it will not be getting any more interesting" With the softest of smiles decorating your normally sour face, Benedict took your hand and began walking outside with you, watching nervously as people ignored your presence.

"Will this not be damning to your marriage prospects?" Benedict leaned over to whisper in your ear, an element of concern riding along his words.

You gave him a pitiful smile, "What prospects?". Not a single soul noticed the two of you leaving the ball. Benedict held the carriage door open for you and held your hand as you stepped up into it.

"I've never slipped out of an event quite like that" He remarked, closing the door, sitting opposite you.

"Well, in truth, I thought perhaps someone might have stopped us, just because of you… But, I suppose, my power of invisibility is shared with the person I am escaping with" Your eyebrows flicked up. Benedict could not discern whether you were happy or not to fly out of the view of the ton. While it was a blessing most days, you were afforded your privacy and peace. Perfect silence. There were many other days filled with loneliness, the madness of having to hear your own voice in your head just to fill the quiet.

The carriage ride was slightly uncomfortable, the two of you had never had to be alone like this. You were delivered to Benedict's college where he had been studying art and he led you towards his private studio. Benedict's hand reached out for the door handle, stopping short, and spinning to look at you, back pressed against the door.

"I presume you understand I don't bring people here," He paused, his demeanour was soft and vulnerable, "Be gentle with me". He waited for acknowledgment on what he was saying, and with a nod of promise from you, he opened the door. You both walked inside in sweet silence as you took in the most beautiful sight. The room was littered with parchment, sketches, canvases. Drabs of colour, charcoal and lead lit only by low candlelight as Benedict struck the match. This was the most personal gesture of friendship you had ever experienced, it was like peering through window into Benedict Bridgerton's mind - a place he only has the keys to. Several desks were patterned around the room, a small platform in the centre of the room, drying racks on the far left. You were surprised by this unapologetically intimate space, and even more impressed by the immense talent you were witnessing.

"What are you working on currently?" You did not mean for the excitement of the room to fill you up so keenly. Benedict had such a hard time trying to read your reaction, your manner and tone were thrilling to him.

"Oh, please" He gestured towards a far table, where an easel stood facing the window, "I am learning about portraiture this semester. This is something I am doing for my youngest brother, Gregory, for his birthday" His hand sailed past your lower back, shuffling you both around. A deliciously electric pulse passed over your body, goose bumps erupting in a rolling wave quickly trailing behind.

"Benedict, this is incredible" You gasped, your hands covering your mouth with astonishment.

Oddly, he stepped back from you and placed his hand on his heart.

"What did I say?" You smiled uncomfortably.

His face softened, his eyes fluttering peacefully, "My name. That is the first time, you have ever said my name" A flash of teeth in his grin made your heart jump its next beat. There was a flush of embarrassment in your cheeks, your eyes flicked between Benedict's and the floor.

"I apologise" Admittedly, you had never given him a chance to show how utterly human he was. When he had asked you to come to the studio, you wondered whether the room would be filled to the brim of paintings of naked women. How wrong you were - finding yourself surrounded by paintings and scrawling's of every member of his family. You dug around, flicking through sketchbooks, diaries.

"Have you found a favourite?" He meandered around the room after you, hands tucked behind his back like a gentleman, observing.

"This one, is my favourite" You held up a side profile of Violet Bridgerton, done entirely in variants and shades of their family colours.

"I am yet to show her that one, do you think I should?" He asked, and you sensed he truly valued your opinion here.

"Yes! If I had half your talent, I would have filled my family's home with my work" You chuckled, laying the canvas down on the current desk you were visiting.

You moved around the other side of the room, noticing a section of the room more damp, and darkly lit, compared to the rest of the studio. There stood an easel with a large drape thrown over it, and several canvases stacked betwixt it and the wall. This struck a chord of curiosity in you that could not be contained, you almost dashed forward to pull the drape down.

"No! Wait, not those!" Benedict rasped, darting forward to try and stop you. It was too late, the cream-coloured drape had coiled to the floor and revealed what Benedict did not want you to see.

Brow furrowing, you stood back, taking in what you were seeing for the first time. Here, on the easel, an unfinished portrait, of you.

"That's -- That's private" Benedict cleared his throat uncomfortably.

"Is this… me?" You didn't know whether to be flattered, impressed, or worried. Had he done this from memory? That was when it occurred to you to look down. Picking up, and flicking through the canvases, they were all you. There were maybe six or seven of them, all in different poses, of differing angles. Had he taken such notice of you to be able to do this from memory? The detail in your face, your hair and even dresses you had worn in past seasons.

"This is…" You shook your head, placing the canvases back. Benedict stood behind you, leaving a distance so as not to make this more uncomfortable than it already was. His hands were pressed together at his lips as if he were praying, wearily hanging on for your next words.

"No one has ever seen me like this, or rather, at all" You sighed.

"I see you as you are" Benedict replied too quickly.

"And how is that?"

There was a long pause, an internal struggle between what he wanted to say and what he should.

"I see… the raw soulfulness of your gaze. The divine sway in your walk. The sensual ruthlessness of your words. The confidence of your acceptance. I have watched, and waited, and wallowed in avaricious longing" Benedict heaved in a deep breath, "Every line, every curve, every shade I fear is a figment of my imagination until I see you again, just so that I might commit a little more to memory".

Benedict's eye cast low, his discomposure becoming more and more apparent. You were not to know that the one person you had been avoiding for the past several seasons had been perceiving you exactly as you had always dreamed. Perhaps it was not Benedict's personality that made you keep him at arm’s length, but rather your own.

You bound forward, slightly tripping on your gown, throwing yourself in the second Bridgerton brother's arms. In the instant he caught you, you planted the shyest of kisses on his unsuspecting lips. Benedict chuckled sweetly, lifting you to stand on your own two feet again, wrapping his arms around your waist, pulling you into to a longer, more fervent kiss. His lips were much softer than you were anticipating, gentle and cool against your own. Benedict's tongue dipped into yours, his kiss still passionately intoxicating. You parted for a moment, both of you breathing a little heavier now. Benedict took a step back, straightening his dress clothes and composing himself.

"I apologise, miss y/n"

"Why do you apologise? I am the one who owes you" You stammered.

"I am just glad that no one saw us, I will not have you ruined. I will not be the one that ruins you" Benedict stumbled over his words, words filled with such consideration and respect for you and your standing in society.

Panting still, bosom heaving over the corset, you thought about what he was saying. You thought about your "prospects".

Taking one large step forward, pressing your body against his, you leaned up as if to kiss Mr Bridgerton's cheek goodbye.

"Ruin me" You breathed, begged, into his ear, hands wrapping around his neck, your breath hitching in your throat as Benedict swooped you into his arms, carrying you to the nearest desk. He placed your behind on the edge of the desk, moving to sweep every piece of art clattering to the floor before turning his attention back to you. Your legs wrapped around his thighs, his lips crashing into you, his tongue fiercely caressing yours. Much to Benedict's surprise, you slipped your arms out of your dress, pushing the fabric down around your hips.

Stunned and dramatic shock shot across his face as he looked upon your upper body in your corset. Benedict blinked furiously, as if trying to regain control of his sense.

"May I?" He took hold of the fabric around your waist, pulling it out from under you as you lifted yourself slightly, signalling a loud yes. Sitting in your undergarments, Benedict wrapped his arms around your body, expertly fiddling with the laces as you nodded fervently into his delectable kisses. You grinned into his mouth, feeling the corset loosen quickly – he had done this before. Your fingers fumbled along the seam of his pants, unfurling the tucked fabric of his dress shirt, fiddling with the buttons of his overcoat.

Benedict stopped, throwing his coat across the room and removing his dress shirt as frantically as possible. It took only seconds for his eyes to widen at your naked body, sitting on the desk before him.

"Holy God" He exhaled, lunging forward, thrusting his hand into your hair, pulling you into a devilish kiss. His hands curved under your behind, lifting you forward to the very edge of the table before falling to his knees before you as if you were divine, and he, a devout worshipper at the altar. Littering kisses down your inner thigh, his nose nestling into the soft nest of hair at your mound, he breathed heavily, groaning with pleasure. Benedict's tongue slipped between your folds, circling the most sensitive spot on your body, your hands sliding into his hair, pulling gently as his pace quickened and steadied in a repetitive manner. Never had you felt so safe and yet so powerful, holding Benedict's head in place between your thighs. Letting out soft, melodic moans, tangling your fingers amongst his hair, finding your hips having a mind of their own as they ground against him. The sheer coarseness of Benedict's dawning facial hair and the soft, warmth of his darting tongue were plenty enough to push your mind to the edge of the human experience. Your head turned dreamy, light, whilst your body convulsed and squeezed Benedict's head between your thighs.

Panting softly, Benedict remained, placing delicate kisses where his tongue had just performed. As your body relaxed into him again, Benedict appeared from the floor, kissing you again, to lay you backward on the table, your own sweetness on your tongue now. He stood before you, bare torso, undoing his dress pants. Excitement pulsed through you, propping yourself onto your elbows to watch. You had heard other ladies discuss this in the depths of their personal conversations but had never really learned anything from them. It was a topic of great interest.

Freeing himself before you, your enlarging eyes took in his length as he held himself in his hand. "Allow me?" Benedict looked down at you, sordid passion aflame in his eyes. You gave a clear, concise nod. Benedict moved closer between your thighs, adjusting your legs, and placing himself at your entrance. With both hands sprawled over the space between your belly and your hips, Benedict slowly pushed forward, eliciting guttural moans from your lips. But he never looked away from you, he never closed his eyes for more than a half-second. His desire burned out of him, his eyes searing down on you and in helplessness, you exuded wanton need in return.

You wished this act were eternal, completely unending. Every thrust an indiscreet attempt at conveying his affections for you. His hand found its way to caressing your cheek, his teeth nipping at your neck as you moaned his name.

“Benedict” You sighed without inhibition. The sound of your voice sent Benedict into a frenzy, his thrusts harder now and full-fledged. His sinful grunts, echoing across the studio, came to a hot, explicit apex as he buried himself as deeply as possible inside of you.

He looked down at you dreamily, his eyes heavy with pleasure, running his thumb over your bottom lip. Benedict stepped away, reaching for his dress pants, and sitting on to the ground in front of you – you moved to sit next to him, surrounded by the tables previous contents.

“You are wonderful. I could never capture such an essence, in any art form. You are transcendent” Benedict’s words were slow, the ruse of his silly exterior worn away.

“I much prefer this version of you” You gave a smug smile, both of you avoiding eye contact.

“As I do you” He retorted, chortling alongside you. The long, comfortable tired silence between you was broken only when Benedict cleared his throat.

“Y/n,” Benedict spoke up, “I think—No, I am quite certain, I love you” He admitted, holding his hand out, bridging the space between your mostly naked bodies, waiting for you to take it.

“I do believe I too am guilty of loving you” You responded, laying your hand gently in his. Leaning to meet in the middle, sharing a sentimental, sweet kiss and smiling into each other. Benedict jumped up, pants still undone around his waist, he pulled you to your feet.

“Come, I should like to draw you” He posed you naturally on the platform in the centre of the room. You watched him scramble about the room, looking for his implements.

“Like this!?” You gestured to yourself, completely nude on the dais.

“Yes, precisely like this” Benedict growled ardently, putting his pencil to his parchment.

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