#chase andrews x reader

[cherienymphe]

Southern Charm (Rafe Cameron x Reader x Chase Andrews)

Warnings: NON-CON, stalking, underage drinking, crossover

➥ you don’t have to be familiar with Where The Crawdads Sing to follow along with any characters in this fic. Just know that he’s a 1960s version of Rafe with a domestic violence + attempted rape charge

➥ banner by @vase-of-lilies | divider by @firefly-graphics​

summary: Privileged assholes always want what they can’t have. Or, alternatively, you turn down the wrong guys one too many times.

~

Chase Andrews was one of the proudest men you ever knew. He was also one of the most determined, so, in truth, you didn’t know why you expected anything less when you turned him down more than three months ago. You hadn’t given it much thought, to be honest. He was a simple guy asking out a simple girl, and the rejection shouldn’t have been any more complicated than that.

You’d forgotten that you were dealing with Chase Andrews.

If you hadn’t been so determined to get home before your mom threw a fit, you might’ve paid more attention to the way his face had fallen. You might’ve noticed the slight tightening of his jaw, the way he pulled his lip between his teeth, or the way he’d completely faltered altogether as if your refusal had been the last thing he’d expected. You might have even noticed the glint that passed through his eyes, signaling less than friendly thoughts as you tossed him a quick apologetic smile.

If you hadn’t been in such a hurry, you just might have noticed the way he stared after you, half in disbelief and half affronted.

You hadn’t though, and so you’d made your way home none the wiser to the dark thoughts brewing behind a familiar face. You’d greeted your mom with a quick hug before hurrying to your room. You plopped your purse down onto your bed without another thought spared towards Chase Andrews. After all, he was a simple guy who’d asked out a simple girl that only resulted in an equally simple rejection.

What had there been to linger on?

You hadn’t even brought it up to Kie, that’s how insignificant it had been to you. You told your best friend everything, and somehow, it really had slipped your mind that pretty rich boy Chase Andrews had asked you out on a date. It was only weeks later when you were forced to think on it some more did you realize that deep down, you’d written the whole thing off as some cruel dare.

It seemed like something right up his alley, pushed into it by equally troublesome friends.

You didn’t grow up along the rougher areas of the island, but that also didn’t mean you’d spent your time growing up around guys like that either. Guys like Chase grew up with everything and anything they could want, unfamiliar with the word ‘no’. You grew up fortunate, that you would always admit, but you hadn’t grown up like people like Chase. You hadn’t been raised to walk through life with the assumption that anything—and anyone—was yours if you wanted it.

So…maybe that was why you hadn’t anticipated any of it.

The sound of your name being called made you slow to a stop, and when you turned, the face matched the voice. Dark, almost black looking, hair and steel blue eyes contrasted against fair skin that looked like it barely saw the sun in spite of how much you always saw him out and about. Before you’d felt nothing at the sight of him, apprehension now gripped you instead.

Chase Andrews was a determined man.

“You heading home?”

It was a silly question.

He knew you were.

“Yeah,” you evenly told him.

He replied before you could give him some halfhearted reason as to why you needed to hurry away from him.

“Well, let me walk you…”

It was tempting, even if just for the sake of placating him. After all, maybe if you gave him a crumb, he’d be satisfied for the time being, but you wondered what kind of effect that deep southern drawl had on other women in town. You saw the way they flocked to him and hung off of his every word. There was something about that face that was disarming, you had to admit, but you didn’t make a habit of hanging around guys like Chase for a reason.

You were just about to refuse him, the umpteenth rejection within months, when it was his turn for his name to be called.

The familiar voice had contrasting reactions from you both, a slight frown between your brows while the dark-haired man sported a teasing grin when he turned around. You took the opportunity to take a step away from him, glad that he was too distracted by the sight of his cousin to notice. Dealing with one spoiled rich boy was one too many, never mind the presence of two.

Rafe Cameron was just as tall, just as pretty, just as rich but far more entitled than his dark-haired counterpart. He was an impulsive short fuse compared to Chase’s icy disposition. Where Rafe got into fights on the beach brought on by a coke fueled rage, Chase got drunk and harassed any unsuspecting less fortunate inhabitant who crossed his path. It had been years ago, but you could still remember the sound of his voice as he threatened to have some kid’s dad fired for simply bumping into him.

Rafe was proud to be an asshole while Chase liked to pretend that he wasn’t.

On their own, they were bad enough, but once together, you shuddered to think of what they could—and had—accomplish.

You only glanced over your shoulder once more as you quietly escaped what could’ve been another awkward encounter. Chase was already grinning at the dirty blond, an excited lilt in his voice as he talked about some party happening this weekend. In your efforts to make sure you were getting away unseen, your own gaze connected with a familiar blue one.

Rafe’s expression was even as he drank you in, nary an emotion flitting across it as he somehow both listened to the other man and kept his attention on you. A soft North Carolina breeze blew by, ruffling the few strands that grazed his forehead, and when his blue eyes lowered, straying from your own gaze and to parts of you you’d rather they didn’t, you finally turned back around.

Rafe Cameron, years ahead of his cousin, had asked you out once in high school. You’d been bolder then, less mature and lacking more than half the patience you carried now. You hadn’t just rejected him, but you’d told him in no uncertain terms that you didn’t like guys like him. You’d long suspected that he never really got over that, and you didn’t need to look over your shoulder again to confirm that he was still looking at you.

You could feel the heat of his gaze pressing down onto your back.

“Just give me five more minutes and then I’ll be ready,” Kie promised you, briefly touching your arm before hurrying into the back of her family’s restaurant.

The place was pretty packed today which made her parents’ decision to let her take off all the more surprising. Sarah Cameron was in the corner somewhere with her boyfriend Topper, the blonde throwing you a friendly smile when you came in. She was a lot closer to Kie than she was to you, and in truth, that was more so your doing than hers.

Rafe just wasn’t someone you wanted to interact with if you could help it, and considering that he and Chase were joined at the hip more like brothers than cousins, the desire to steer clear was doubly so.

You had just pulled out your phone to check your messages when a shadow passed over you. You didn’t pay it much mind, but the feel of their body heat mingling with yours clued you in on the fact that whoever they were, they were too close for comfort. You were both surprised and resigned when you heard a familiar voice.

“Picking up for Cameron.”

You tensed at the sound of that smooth voice, shrinking in on yourself as you continued to look ahead. Rafe knew that you knew he was there, and you could feel his eyes on you as you stared in front of you, waiting for Kie to return. You heard the blond next to you let out a small sigh, and you only glanced at him when he dared to move closer.

“You know,” he slowly and softly began, leaning in just a tad. “…you’re kind of hurting my cousin’s feelings.”

That was the last thing you’d expected to come out of his mouth, and you looked at him with a deep frown. There was a small smirk dancing on Rafe’s lips, the corner of his mouth quirked up just a tad, but there was an earnestness in his eyes that hinted at some truth in his words.

“Is that so,” you murmured, looking away. “I doubt that.”

You heard Rafe chuckle, but it was bitter, dry and lacking humor.

“He really hasn’t been anything but nice to you…and you treat him like garbage.”

Rafe’s voice had lowered some, an edge to it that forced you to look at him again. His expression wasn’t so mirthful, a smile or anything close to it nowhere in sight. Despite the volume in the restaurant, you felt like you and Rafe were the only ones in the place, and you swallowed.

“…and how do I do that? By politely turning him down?”

You kept going before he could intervene.

“How else should I do it? Or…would you be happier if I just didn’t turn him down, at all?”

You watched Rafe’s jaw tick as he ran his eyes over you, an iciness creeping into them that made you shudder. He stared at you just like that for what felt like a long time before finally speaking again.

“What’s your problem, Y/N?” he slowly wondered. “You think you’re too good for him or something?”

Such a thought was a great sin to guys like Rafe.

They had money and looks and influence, and so, that put them at a place where no one was off limits. The mere thought that you might think you were too good for his cousin Chase had his eyes flashing…because it wasn’t just about the dark-haired man. If you thought you were too good for Chase, then you thought you were too good for Rafe, and with just one look into a familiar blue gaze, you could tell that Rafe was transported back to senior year when you told him quite plainly what you thought of him.

“I don’t like guys like Chase,” you evenly told him.

You paid no mind to the way his expression hardened as he looked away. Rafe sniffed, pulling his lip between his teeth before meeting your gaze again, his own challenging.

“…and what is Chase like? What are guys like that…like…?”

Rafe was almost daring you to say it, to insult him and his family, and foolishly, you were glad to.

“Spoiled, entitled…guys who lose their temper when they don’t get their way,” you told him, holding his gaze despite how uncomfortable you felt. “You know.”

You pushed yourself to your feet just as Kie returned. She was in the middle of apologizing for the holdup when she cut herself off, coming up short at the sight of Rafe beside you. You were already walking away and urging her to follow before she could even acknowledge him.

“Was he bothering you?” she sternly asked the second you both made it outside.

“No,” you lied with a sigh. “Just Rafe being…Rafe.”

“Good,” she said with relief. “He’s been hanging around here a lot more, and as long as he isn’t causing trouble, who am I to tell him where he can and can’t go, but if he was bothering you, I’ll get my dad to ban him, I swear.”

A laugh was caught in your throat when her words registered. You frowned a bit as you followed her to her jeep, confusion filling you as you hopped inside.

“He has?”

“Yeah, him and Chase,” she groaned, starting the vehicle. “Neither of them gave that much of a fuck about my parents’ place before…”

You clicked your seatbelt with a frown, looking out of the window.

You told yourself that it was just a coincidence. The thought was laughable because when it came to guys like Chase and Rafe…there were no coincidences. You really hadn’t taken Chase seriously when he’d asked you out all those months ago, and the sentiment had held anytime he tried to approach you after. It was exhausting to keep turning him down, politely at that, and to ignore your increasing discomfort.

Chase had a way of crowding you, making you feel so small and at his mercy. The kindness in those blue eyes of his was never genuine, and you never had been fooled by that smooth baritone of his. He always had a look on his face like he was in on some joke you’d just never get, and to make it worse, he made you feel like you were the butt of it.

Truthfully, you didn’t know what Chase wanted with a girl like you, anyway.

You weren’t the partying type, so you’d definitely be no fun for him, and you’d never been eager to stroke his ego and tell him that he was even prettier than he believed. You came from money, sure, but not the kind that would make his mom satisfied. The woman had been convinced that some poor harlot was going to trap her son and swindle him for everything he had since he was a kid.

You really didn’t get what he wanted with you.

Both him and Rafe, to be honest.

Both were about as deep as a kiddie pool, but Rafe had always had a type, and you certainly weren’t it. You saw the kind of girls he hit on at parties, the kind of girls he walked around with, the kind of girls he slipped some free coke to. Rafe was nothing if not consistent in that regard, which made that moment in high school all the more confusing.

What made it even more confusing was that Rafe was obviously still hung up on it years later.

Unlike Chase, however, one hit to his ego was one too many.

“Chase…what are you doing here?”

It was hours later when you found yourself standing on your steps. No one had been more surprised than you when your mom announced that Chase was here to see you. Your dad’s pinched face was burned into your memory as your mom forced him to mind his business.

The dark-haired man before you let out a chuckle, but it sounded…off. It didn’t sound like a laugh born from amusement, but one bred from confusion instead.

“I’m wondering the same thing,” he told you, although his smile didn’t reach his eyes. “You must have rejected me about…seven times by now.”

He laughed to himself again, his white button down pulling as he leaned against the porch post.

“I guess I just want to know why.”

His expression was polite, but his eyes told a different story, and you didn’t need to study the blue of them to know that he’d talked to Rafe. You forced yourself to take a deep breath, crossing your arms over your chest as you briefly glanced away. You could feel his unwavering gaze, both studying you just for the hell of it and because he wanted to know what you were thinking.

“I’m sure Rafe told you why,” was your remark.

When you looked at the dark-haired man, his own jaw had tensed some, face taut, and he nodded with a glance towards his feet.

“Look…I’m not the kind of guy you think I am,” he finally said, perfect teeth winking at you as he grinned, like the thought was laughable to him. “I just…”

He exhaled.

“We’ve both grown up here, and went to school together, and I don’t see the point in pretending like I don’t notice you,” he drawled. “I like you…and I’d like to take you out.”

Truthfully, you couldn’t tell how genuine Chase was, but your familiarity with him had your response on the tip of your tongue before he could even finish.

“Guys like you don’t like girls like me, Chase,” you’d started, turning to go back inside. “At least not for anything more than one fun night.”

When your eyes met his from the other side of the screen, they didn’t look so warm, now. The blue of them seemed darker, although you preferred to write that off to a trick of the light. He looked like he wanted to say more, but you continued just as he opened those pink lips of his.

“Go home, Chase.”

You didn’t wait to hear any kind of response.

You really hadn’t anticipated any of it.

Chasing you down on the sidewalk or approaching you in the street was one thing, but Chase showing up on your doorstep one evening had spooked you, and it was why you’d had no qualms about being straight with him and telling him to just go home. His determination to have you, despite your visible discomfort at the thought, had made it hard to sleep that night, but you’d hoped that your point had gotten across.

…and while Chase hadn’t made a move on you again, you still found no relief.

He and Rafe hung out at The Wreck more often than they ever had, and while they kept their distance, the feel of an oppressive gaze was hard to ignore. You told yourself that you just imagined the sound of a familiar truck driving by your house in the dead of night. It was a small town, and just like before, you’d run into a familiar face often. That was nothing new…

Chase Andrews wasn’t trying to wear you down for a date anymore, but you still felt no peace.

“Why didn’t you say something earlier?” Kie wondered one day, voice heavy with concern. “…and here I thought that they’d developed a taste for my mom’s cooking.”

“I thought he was joking at first,” you confessed. “…and then he just kept asking…”

You felt almost embarrassed to admit how wrong you’d been. After all, you were way too old for childish dares, and when Chase Andrews wanted something, he got it. He was a lot like Rafe in that way, something you’d always known, and yet…you hadn’t anticipated any of it.

From either of them.

“Just stay over at my place,” Sarah Cameron had offered one night.

It was a party that you’d been the one to drag Kie to, but your inebriation was something that took both of you by surprise. You’d felt too bad to stay and didn’t want to cut Kie’s night short too. The blonde girl had been concerned when she convinced you to let her drive you back to her place.

“I know how your mom can be sometimes.”

Almost everyone did, and you’d thanked her.

You’d been grateful.

Sarah residing in the same house as Rafe hadn’t been a concern of yours. Nor the fact that he might not be alone. You’d only been concerned with drinking lots of water and laying down to keep your head from spinning. When you woke up in the middle of the night, you were a lot more sober, and the trek to the bathroom wasn’t one filled with stumbling.

Your shower made you a lot more alert.

…and you were wide awake when you almost bumped into Rafe Cameron. He didn’t look as shocked to see you in his house like you’d expect, only mildly surprised. You did flinch at the sight of him, and you didn’t miss the way his blue eyes ran over the length of you, lingering on your legs and the shirt that kissed your knees.

He didn’t say anything like you expected, and you only forced out a small apology before hurrying back to the guest room.

It had never occurred to you to lock it.

Rafe was annoying and insufferable and an asshole. The oldest Cameron was a lot of things, but there were even some things you’d put past him. So, waking up in the early morning before day by the sound of the guest room door opening was something you hadn’t predicted. The oldest Cameron chewing you out, with blown pupils you might add, was something you hadn’t predicted.

“Do you know how much shit I could’ve put you through?”

You glared at him, but inside, you were shaking. The blond had taken it upon himself to air out his grievances with you, and you were wholly aware of just how unstable he was when he had any drug in him.

“You walk around this island like you’re too good for me,” he murmured, reaching up to touch his chest. “Like I’m just the scum you find on the bottom of your shoe…and instead of being grateful I didn’t make your life a living hell…”

He threw his arms out.

“You turn your nose up at me…like you’re so much better than me.”

You swallowed, torn between wanting to placate him and get him out or treating him like the asshole he was.

“Rafe, you’re high and…”

“…and what?” he leaned in, tilting his head at you. “What?”

Your breathing was uneven, and you wrapped your arms around yourself, taking a step back from him. The blond followed, and you worriedly looked towards the door.

“You think Sarah’s gonna save you? You think I care if she sees what I’m going to do to you?”

His words had you frowning, and your gaze was stricken when you looked at him again.

“That’s not funny, Rafe,” you breathed.

He chuckled to himself, running his hand through already unruly hair.

“…and what makes you think I’m joking…?”

The silence between you was loud, thick, and you furiously blinked.

“You walk around this damn island like I can’t have you…when truth is, I was just being nice,” he sneered. “…because it’s actually so easy for me to do this.”

His hand completely enveloped your chin, fingers harshly pressing into your jaw as he pushed you back. The action made you stumble, and your heart skipped a beat when you landed on the bed behind you. Rafe chuckled to himself at the sight, like he genuinely found it funny, and any possibility that he was being cruel in his humor was gone when he grabbed the ankles that kicked out at him.

“Rafe, stop,” you gasped, pushing at his chest and trying to back away.

He did pause in his movements, but he kept hold of you, head tilted to the side as he studied you.

“…and why would I do that…? I don’t want to,” he slowly told you.

Movement behind him caught your eye, and relief filled you at the sight of a familiar face. It was strange that in all these months, you never thought your eyes would land on Chase Andrews in relief. Rafe, clearly having noticed your line of sight, glanced over his shoulder.

“What?” he distractedly wondered, looking at you again. “You think he’s going to save you?”

His tone was cold, and his words had your relief quickly dying out. Rafe chuckled at the sight of your falling face, heart sinking as the worst finally occurred to you.

“You think he’s not going to watch and get off on the fact that the girl he’s wanted for months is getting what she deserves?”

Rafe’s grip was firm as he pulled at your shirt, the fabric tearing in the otherwise quiet room. You fought against his hands through teary eyes, but it was like they meant nothing at all to Rafe.

“You don’t think he’s just waiting for his turn?”

Your hand connected with Rafe’s face then, but it didn’t deter him.

In that moment, it seemed like all of Rafe’s pent-up anger towards you was finally coming out. His teeth grazed your skin as he held you down, his other hand digging into your hip. Rafe seemed to take delight in your fight, your fear, and when you turned your head, your eyes connected with a blue pair that was much darker than the ones before you.

Chase didn’t look gleeful at the sight of Rafe forcing himself on you. He just looked…satisfied, and you realized then that the blond was right. Chase was scorned, he felt slighted, and you knew that he really did believe that you deserved this.

When Rafe pushed himself into you, your head pressed into the bed as you gasped in shock. His dirty blond strands were kissing your forehead as he leaned over you, pushing his cock into you almost lovingly. One hand was so tight on your wrist that it was a wonder it didn’t break, and despite how much you fought it, how much you didn’t want to give either of them the satisfaction, you weren’t able to hold in a sob.

“What’s that my mama used to always say…” Chase wondered, finally speaking. “Stop crying before I give you something to cry about?”

He was moving towards you both, and through a tearful gaze, your pleading eyes connected with his own emotionless ones. He ran them over you, taking in your naked frame and the abuse that Rafe subjected it to. In truth, Chase didn’t even look like he was enjoying himself, his hands in his pockets as he looked down his nose at the scene.

“Chase,” you tearfully begged him, trying to push Rafe off with your free hand.

“No,” he drawled, moving closer. “You don’t like guys like me, remember? So, don’t go begging for my help, now.”

When he leaned over from behind you, one hand taking yours before he did the same with the other, more tears fell. His grip was tight on your arms as he held you in place for Rafe, the blond using the opportunity to run his hands over you. His mouth left open mouth kisses to your neck and chess, and you blinked for half a second before Chase’s lips met yours.

The kiss was oddly gentle, so out of place, and a sob caught in your chest.

“That was all I ever wanted,” he murmured. “It didn’t have to be like this.”

Rafe’s cock stretched you out in a way that had you whimpering. From pain or something else, you didn’t know the answer, and you were too embarrassed to linger on it. When he lightly bit your chest, you arched into his mouth, and his hips curved into yours.

“I thought you were too good for me, Y/N,” Rafe mocked into your skin. “The way you’re gripping me says differently.”

You squeezed your eyes shut at that, and Chase chuckled.

His own teeth found your neck, and you tried to move your hands again only to hiss when he tightened his grip. The room was mostly quiet outside of your heavy breathing and the occasional moan that would escape against your will. Chase had your arms and Rafe had your legs, holding your thighs apart for him to drive himself into you without abandon.

When Chase did finally let you go, you felt no relief.

You could hear him getting undressed, and when Rafe finally came inside of you, emptying his cock and forcing you to milk him, he looked up at the other man with a chuckle. You were free for all of six seconds before Chase grabbed you and roughly threw you onto your stomach. His hand at the root of your hair forced your head down against the mattress, and if you’d doubted his motives before, they were all too clear when he finally spoke again.

“I was polite…wasn’t I?”

His lips were at your ear, but a whisper as he seemed to want something from you other than sex tonight.

“I asked you out nicely, made sure you got home safe…didn’t I?”

You reached back, pressing your nails into his skin as your tears soaked the sheets.

“Didn’t I?” he wondered again when you didn’t answer.

“Yes,” you sobbed.

You heard him take a deep breath, and his free hand curved into your hip. When he pulled you back onto his cock, you let out a whine, eyes squeezing shut at the feel of him fitting snuggly inside of you.

“…and this is how you treat me?” he wondered out loud, hips snapping against yours.

His thrusts weren’t as gentle as Rafe’s, and you gasped with each one. Rafe’s anger at your rejection was a lot calmer. It was something that had been brewing and festering for years. He’d had time to come to terms with it and just live with it, you supposed. Chase, on the other hand…

The dark-haired man had been after you for months, putting his pride and ego aside to make his intentions clear over and over again. His anger was new…fresh, and he hadn’t quite had the time to process it like Rafe had. All Chase wanted to do was take out this new anger on you.

…and that he did.

Your nails clawed at the sheets as he pushed into you, the sound of his cock thrusting into you so embarrassingly loud in the room. His grip was tight in your hair, so bad that you swore you felt a few strands pop. He was talking to you—or Rafe—but you couldn’t make it out. You were too focused on the pain in your scalp and the fire deep in the pit of your stomach.

“You think you’re better than me? Hmm?” he spat, the hand on your hip pushing your lower half down onto the bed. “You think you can just treat me like any of these second-rate assholes?”

It was clear that he wanted an answer.

“Huh?”

“No,” you sobbed, trying to push back against him to no avail.

“Is that supposed to make me feel better? You don’t sound sorry worth a damn,” he harshly whispered, the bed shaking from the force of his thrusts.

“She’s not,” you heard Rafe add, and you trembled.

“I am,” you sobbed, finally cracking. “I’m sorry.”

You sniffed, trying in vain to get Chase to loosen his hold.

“I’m sorry,” you tearfully told them again, toes curling at the feel of his cock plunging into you and sliding against your walls.

“Nah,” you heard Chase drawl, leaning down to press his face into your hair. “You’re not sorry…but I can promise you this.”

He forced you to turn your head, and his soft lips gently brushed the corner of yours.

“You will be.”

~

tags: @aniquas​​ @softcoreparadise​​

[blurillazsironman]

Im not a vigilante, the vigilante is a random man... or woman

[agaypanic]

not only was it Spiderman!Chase, it was Andrew Garfield's spiderman 🤭 I thinking about Chase being a little flirty ahhh I loved it

-🎀

chase is sooooo andrew garfield’s spiderman, no doubt about it

i should make one of those graph things where each end is a different spiderman (probably the 3 live action boys and miles, i <333 miles morales) and then put all the guys i write for on it. i think that’s be fun

[loriiisstuff]

𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐒 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐒!!!

𝐨𝐧 𝐠𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 :

𝐡𝐚𝐮𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐝 ᵇᵒᵒᵏ ᵒⁿᵉ

[yandereocs]

Yandere Andrew, The Twins, Karro, and Zack with a darling who has healing powers who can heal any injury or illness and restore any lost limbs? (Like Karro she restores his jaw)

* YOOO THIS IS REALLY COOL

* Also I know the request referred the the reader as a girl, but I'm writing this as gender neutral, as all my other works!!

* Andrew is no stranger to magic. He isn't able to use it, but his queen can. He's knows about pretty much every spell in existence. But this is something completely new to him. He knows healing magic is a thing, but that has limits!! But you...don't. It's actually kinda terrifying. Andrew thinks your power is fascinating. Only hybrids are suppose to be able to use magic!! And only a select few can perform the most powerful of spells!!

* But here you are, a human with powerful magic. Andrew isn't dumb or reckless, but he's curious about your ability. With his queen's permission, he'll start injuring himself on purpose. And even though it hurts like hell, he'll allow his arm to get chopped off. He wants to know everything about your power. The more he knows, the better he can keep you safe from people who want to take you for their own needs.

* The Twins initially laugh you off when you talk about your power. You're not a hybrid!! Humans can't DO magic. It's like, the whole reason the war between hybrids and humans happened. But they were very surprised when you proved your power. It honestly kinda pissed them off. Humans can't do magic, so why the hell can you? Are you hiding something from them? They need to know everything about you, no secrets allowed. And besides, not even hybrids can do magic THAT powerful. They definitely try to find some way to get rid of your magic. It's dangerous having that much power. People would try and take advantage of you if they found out. They also don't like the idea of you having stronger magic than them.

* Karro is definitely very happy when he hears about your power. You probably didn't tell him about it until you accidentally saw his missing jaw. After you reveal your power, Karro just kinda...stares at you. You can't tell if he's happy about it or not. He isn't sure if he knows either. His jaw is his biggest insecurity. He doesn't want it to be seen. He's ashamed of it. But also he's had a fucked up jaw longer than he's had a normal one. It's a part of who he is now. He definitely thinks about it a lot, before deciding that he does want his jaw back. But even when his injury is healed, I think he would still wear his scarf over his mouth. He feels too exposed without it.

* I think Zack would feel insecure about himself once he finds out about your power. Zack isn't able to do magic, despite being a wolf hybrid. It's something he really hates about himself. So he thought of the two of you as equals!! You're a human so obviously you can't do magic. He thought that you two could like...bond over being magicless or someone. But no. You can't. Because you can somehow do magic and worse of all, it's POWERFUL. More powerful that what even a wolf hybrid could do. He should be happy that you can help people, but he just gets really sad and mopey. He apologizes for it a lot, but he just can't help but feel inferior. He'll ask that you refrain from using your magic. It's okay if you say no. There's lots of ways to prevent a hybrid from using magic. Maybe it'll work for a human, too.

[dinogoofymutated]

Wolverine/Fem!Reader - Masterlist link

You've met Logan Howlett in every life you've lived since the 1900s. And in every lifetime, fate rips you from him just as cruelly as it forces the two of you to meet. How many lives will it take for the two of you to finally have your happily ever after?

General TWs: Reincarnation, death, Major character death (multiple times), Angst with a happy ending. Controlling familiail behavior, descriptions of wounds, descriptions of war, descriptions of violence/death, childhood trauma. Possible historical inaccuracies.

Here's the first chapter!! I waassss gonna wait until I finished part two and post both at once but TBH I was desperate to get this out! I hope yall enjoy this, and I would like to remind everyone that I am not a nurse or any kind of medical personnel, and I kinda struggled to find out about the procedures of ww1 nurses, so take most of the nurse stuff with a grain of salt! like watching a dumbed down version of grey's anatomy lol. I'd also like to say that I decided to make Logan's healing factor slower during ww1 and ww2, as he hadn't gone through the Weapon X program yet. Chapter TWs: Blood, injury, childhood injuries in the prologue scene, war n shit, ww1 canada is a tw on it's own.

     October 22, 1900.

    “Andy!!”  Your brother rolls his eyes at the sound of your high-pitched voice calling his name, turning around with a frown. He always had been faster than you, and today was no different. He had gone running into the woods when your mother had called the two of you in for lunch, and ever the devoted little sister, you had chased after him before she could notice what the two of you were doing. You’re panting when you finally catch up to him, your skirts scrunched up in your fists as you try your best to keep them from catching on bushes and vines.

    “Where are you going? Mama’s calling us for lunch!” Neither of you was supposed to be on this side of the woods, past the fence that marked your family’s property. It made you nervous to be so far past the boundary. Your older brother scoffs at you, turning away once again as he continues to march further. 

    “Father told me that he had set bear traps out to keep the animals away from the house. I’m going to see if he’s caught anything.” Andrew says stubbornly. You rush ahead to try and keep up with him, staying close and looking around anxiously. You never had been a rule breaker, and this was just a little more adventurous than you were comfortable with.

    “Bears? You don’t think we’ll find any, do you? I don't want to see anything be hurt.” You whine, tears forming in your eyes. Your brother laughs at you, the same way did the time you brought some a dying bird, or the time you had begged father to spare the rabbit that had been digging in the garden. He never understood why you were so soft-hearted.

    “You’re going to need to be more brave if you’re going to be an adult one day. Cowards get killed.” Andrews teases, cackling wickedly as he steps on a branch and the sound of it snapping causes you to flinch and cry out, rushing forward to grab hold of his arm.

    “That’s not true!” You cry. 

    “Yeah, it is!” Andrew argues. There’s a bit of a ditch in front of the two of you, and he shakes you off before he hops down. He holds his hand out to help you navigate the drop, and you take it eagerly as you carefully get down, making sure not to dirty your skirts any more than they had been. 

    “No, it’s not! It’s not true! It’s not true because I have you, remember? Big brothers are supposed to protect their little sisters!” You persist once you’re finished. Andrew sighs again, but you don’t doubt his answer for a second. He rolls his eyes at you before he begins to walk on.

    “Of course I am. But you can’t expect me to get to you every time.” Andrew says. You’re about to refute that when the two of you hear a rustling in the bushes up ahead. Andrew holds out a hand to keep you behind him, stopping both of you in your tracks. The birds have stopped singing, and you know that it means something scary is about to happen. Dad calls it a bad oh-men or something along those lines, but you didn’t usually listen to him. Now you’re starting to wish you had.

    “Stay here. I think I hear something up ahead.” Andrew whispers to you. You try to grab for his arms as he leaves you, but he’s too far away, and you find your feet rooted to the spot. You’re too scared to move, holding your hands anxiously as you watch Andrew begin to stumble through the bushes cautiously. You don’t like this. You don’t like it at all. You can only see his head through once he’s through the thick of it, and you hear him huff in disappointment when he doesn’t find anything on the other side.

    “Never mind. There’s not even-” There’s a sound of a mechanical snap before Andrew falls to the ground with a scream. 

    “Andy!” You cry out, immediately bolting through the bush. Branches and briars get caught on your skirt and tear at your skin as you push through to get to him. Your brother is shouting and grunting in pain when you see him, tears dotting his eyes as he stares down at the sight of his ankle caught firmly between the teeth of a bear trap.

    “Stupid trap!” He cries out, his hands shaking from adrenaline. You don’t know what to do, standing frozen at the bloody sight before you, mind going back and forth between whether or not you should go to your brother or run home to get your parents.

     “Help me get it off!” Andrew shouts, and it’s enough to finally bring you back to the situation. You can only nod frantically as you kneel by his side. Hands shaking as you help your brother try and open the trap and get it off of him. The metal digs into your fingers as you try to pry it open, your brother grunting and crying with the effort to do so. You can only think of what your parents will say, what Andrew will do. What if it got infected? What if he lost his foot completely? You realize you’re crying as you and Andrew try with all your might to pull the trap open, grip beginning to slip on the contraption right as Andrew tugs his leg out of the trap. It snaps closed violently after, barely missing both of your fingertips as Andrew rolls away from it.

    “What- What do we do? Andy?” You ask, unable to do much but stare as your brother writes in pain. It’s all happening so fast, but god did everything feel so slow. Andrew manages to make out something about stopping the bleeding, and you’re right on it as you press your small hands to the bloody, mangled, flesh. You squeeze tightly as you pray and pray and pray for him to stop bleeding, shutting your eyes tightly as you sob and cry and wish you could do something, anything more to help your big brother.

    There’s a buzzy feeling in your hands, like pins and needles without the pain. You don’t see it happening as you sit there and bawl for your brother, his warm blood on your hands all you can manage to feel in the moment. The blood begins to slow, and slow, and you don't even realize it has stopped until everything seems to be just as quiet as before. You realize that Andrew isn’t crying anymore, and find yourself brave enough to cautiously open your eyes.

    To your surprise, you don’t see anything. 

    All there is is Andrew’s blood staining his ripped pants and both of your hands- but the strangest part of all was that there was no more wound. Not even a bruise remained of the bone-deep cuts that had been there just a moment before. Your tears begin to dry up as your eyebrows furrow, still hiccuping as you look on at the scene in confusion. When you look up at your brother, he’s wide-eyed. Staring at you in complete shock.

    “Was that you that did that?”  He asks. You don’t know what to say. You don't know. You begin to notice a soreness in your leg as the two of you sit there, simply staring at each other in shock. Eventually, Andrew swallows, before he tries to stand up, doing so effortlessly and without pain. He stretches and flexes his leg, moving it back and forth like his brain is still playing catch up. You try to follow his lead, only to cry out in pain and stumble. There's a deep purple bruise circling your leg when you raise your skirt, one that perfectly mimicked the bloody hole in Andrew’s pants where his own wound once had been.

    He carried you back home that day.

    The Great War began on July 28th, 1914. The archduke of Austria, Franz Ferdinand, had been assassinated, thus causing a series of events that spiraled into the worst war that the world had ever seen until that point. Your brother was quickly whisked away into the battle once the fight had started. He quickly advanced through the ranks, his ever-present charm and intelligence being a boon to him, and an asset to many others. He had always been the fighter. Your bother Andrew, your protector, and keeper of your secrets, now a general in the Canadian army. You could hardly believe it. 

    You, on the other hand, had begun to educate yourself at your brother’s behest. You became a nurse, finding yourself drawn to the field in the absence of the many men who had left mainland hospitals to go to war. You loved it. You loved helping people heal and survive, thrive even, but even so, you had become rather secretive about your natural gifts. Andrew, as supportive as he was, knew that the world would never accept powers like yours. As guilty as you felt every time a patient had slipped through the doctor’s fingers, you knew better. Your healing abilities took from you a fraction of what it gave to others, and using it was just not possible in large doses. You knew that and knew to listen to your brother’s warnings. Still, it did not stop you completely. Healing a wound or broken bone now and then in the shadows, where there was no one there to see. Miracles became your specialty, but your medical knowledge had become your backbone.

    At the end of April, you were surprised to receive a letter from your brother, the contents of it being a plea for you to join him in the war efforts. They needed nurses, trained, knowledgeable, nurses. You would be by his side as much as possible, but you were needed across the sea. And well, if it was your brother asking, who were you to refuse?

Novemver 2nd, 1917

    "You are to keep your medical supplies cleanly and well maintained. I understand that you aren't exactly green in this line of work, but let me tell you, you haven't seen war yet." The senior nurse in front of you has no time for fools, you have only known her for a moment, and yet you know this for a fact. Her pace is fast and purposeful. Her skirt is muddied and stained, and yet her boots do not seem to sink or stick in the mud like yours do as you try your best to keep up with her. Nurse Mary is strict in personality and pace, and you're careful to follow directly behind her throughout the busy encampment. 

Everyone seems to have something urgent to attend to, soldiers and nurses and medics alike all running about through the mud and dirt. There are many hospital tents, many more than you had originally anticipated. You begin to realize exactly why your brother had been so firm in instructing you to refrain from assisting any wounded beyond what help lies within sutures and gauze. 

    “How often do the wounded arrive?” You ask, following her into a rather large hospital tent and passing by various cots with wounded men.

    “You should expect them to arrive every day. The wounded are many, but the dead are more, god rest their souls.”  She tells you, one of her hands clutching the cross around her neck for a moment. There are many things you have learned throughout your schooling, and many gruesome sights you know to expect, but the one thing that still gave you chills was the death toll. You try not to think about it too hard, knowing that it’s just the truth of war that good men go to die. But that doesn’t mean you will ever be forced to be comfortable with it. You pass many rows of wounded soldiers as you follow her through, many being gravely injured with missing and mangled limbs, and shrapnel in places where it should never be. You keep your bedside manner in check, but you know half of those men won’t make it through the night.

    “We should be grateful for the men who return to our care, but please keep in mind that we are the only buffer between them and god. You must understand that losing these men isn’t an if, it’s a when.” You nod solemnly in response to her, quelling the anxiety in your heart. You knew very well that she was right. You casually look around the hospital tent, doing your best to help familiarise yourself with the surroundings when a puff of smoke catches your eye.

    You don’t know where to laugh or scold the man, brown eyes meeting your own as he quickly tries to hide the cigar. Nurse Mary clearly had not seen him, but you certainly did. You can’t help but smile in a baffled sort of way, and the soldier- the quite handsome soldier- smirks, shrugging his shoulders at you. You try not to laugh, choosing to simply shake your head instead of pointing it out to Nurse Mary. It’s something he clearly appreciates, and he tips his head at you, winking as you finally pass him by. You hope you’re not blushing, quickly looking away from him with a smile on your face that you couldn’t fight off.

    “Are you paying attention, Miss? Your brother spoke very highly of your skills, it would be a shame if it were all to be lies.” The nurse ahead of you says, a strict tone in her voice. It almost startles you, bringing you back to earth after the solid minute of distraction the brown-eyed soldier had caused. 

    “I- yes. I apologize. Please, continue.” You reply quickly. You can tell she’s not quite convinced but doesn’t have the time to care, reminding you that there would be little to no time to dally once you had been given decent instruction about the facilities. You’re eager to get to work, and decide that there would be no more distractions today- no matter how charming or handsome they seem to be.

—-

    You were assigned work the moment your walkthrough had been conducted. No downtime, no breaks. You wonder if you truly had any idea how bad things would be where you got here. Seeing the wounded was one thing, but reading their chart was another. You felt detached as you conducted physicals, changed bandages, and redressed wounds and cuts. You checked for infections in those with amputated limbs, knowing that death would soon come for those who were so unfortunate. The difference between any of the men was astounding- wounds from this war unlike any that you had ever seen before. You had heard of the new weapons, the horrors that geniuses had developed so that others would die. It pains you that someone could be so ignorant and cruel- and yet even you hope that you would never have to face those instruments of war.

   Out of all the strange and unusual wounds and war-torn soldiers you met on that day, there was only one who you remembered in truly remarkable detail.

    You see the puff of smoke before you see him, lounging on the backboard of his hospital cot without a care in the world. Besides some old bandages on his chest, you can tell that he’s not in any pain. To be honest, you start to wonder if he belongs in this infirmary at all. He’s distracted, cigar held up to his lips as he takes a deep inhale of the smoke, drowning out his senses with the nicotine. 

    “You must be feeling pretty confident to be breaking the only rule we have in here.” You say, raising an eyebrow at him. He chokes on the smoke rather suddenly, trying to recover as quickly as he can as he puts the cigar out. You give him a sweet smile, trying your best not to laugh. He smiles sort of unabashedly at you, shrugging. 

    “Can’t blame a man for tryin’.” He coughs. You shake your head at him, lifting some papers on your clipboard before you find the one assigned to his cot. Your eyes are immediately drawn to his list of past injuries and causes of infirmary visits. How is this man even alive?

    “Logan Howlett, I presume? You’re pretty perky for a man who has such a long list of injuries.” You state, still reading it through. You’ve never seen this many on one chart before- all dating from the very start of the war to his current visit. Logan gives you a shrug of his shoulders, which isn’t exactly a response you would prefer, but he smiles at you in a charming sort of way that makes your heart flutter. 

    “They call me Lucky Logan for a reason,” Logan hums- causing you to huff a laugh. You shake your head at him, setting the clipboard down on the edge of the bed before you begin conducting a physical and checking on his “wounds.”- not that there really was any besides an odd, yellowed bruise or two that you could almost swear seemed to be lightening by the minute.

    “ ‘You new here?” You glance up at him at the sound of his voice, smiling a bit out of politeness.

   “Why, Is it that easy to tell?” You ask, knowing that he certainly knew so due to him seeing you earlier, but you wonder for a moment if you seemed to be any different from the other nurses. You always strived to be good at what you do, but part of you had a tendency to worry if you could keep up with the others here.

    “Nah,” He says, bluntly. “I just think I’d remember if I had seen a pretty nurse like you before.”  The words make you gape for a moment, that smile still showing as you shake your head at him and try not to laugh. He was a flirt- a rather smooth one too. 

    “Do you use that line on all the ladies?” You tease as you pull out your stethoscope to listen to his heart. You listen, and besides the fact that his heart rate is a little faster than the regular average, you don’t seem to notice anything too strange.

    “Only the ones as pretty as you.” He says. You don’t hold back your laugh at that, and his genuine smile is definitely contagious. You check his eyesight and overall mobility one more time once you’re done, trying not to blush at the way he’s looking at you. You feel his gaze even when you step away to write on his chart, finishing things up.

    “Well, Mr. Howlett, you seem to have a perfect bill of health,” Logan perks up a bit at that, moving to where he can sit on the side of the cot, his feet on the ground. “...but I can’t completely release you just yet. You’re free to wander around some, but you’ll have to wait for the doc to give you one last look-over before you can go back to the frontlines.” He lets out a dramatic sigh, frowning for only a minute before he stands, winking at you as he grabs his shirt from underneath the cot- the bloodied one they wheeled him in here with, no doubt, and puts it on.

    “If that means I’ll be seeing you more often, I’ll take it.” He flirts. You laugh, knowing that you very well might have swooned if you had been any greener to this line of work. Instead, all you can really do is cringe at the sight of his shirt and lean down to the small table to his right, the one where his chart had been, and open the drawer, revealing a freshly clean set of clothes. 

    “Don’t get too ahead of yourself, Smokey.” You joke, finding his surprised face rather endearing. It only takes a moment before he’s smirking again, taking the clothes from you and doing a mock toast to you with the cloth. You shake your head at him, trying to keep your smile contained as you walk away from him and over to your next patient.

    You find yourself thinking about him throughout the day, both delighted and somewhat frustrated at yourself for swooning so easily over a soldier- on your first day, too. You had told yourself when you took this job that you would never do such a thing, knowing that so many romances in a time like this end in tragedy- but you certainly couldn’t seem to help it. You think about him when the other nurses talk about their personal soldiers, out there fighting the war, and think about him again before you go to bed. It was frustrating! You met a man and knew him a whole ten minutes before swooning like a schoolgirl. You suppose it felt nice to be wanted nonetheless and felt nice to be complemented by someone you found so handsome… But you didn’t need to be thinking so hard about this right now anyway. You roll over onto your side in your bed, hoping to fall asleep soon instead of spending time thinking about something that won’t happen.

    Besides, there wasn’t a chance in hell that your brother would ever approve of any relationship you had with a soldier. You were sure that if he had his way, you would die as a spinster- forever reliant on the family. Your dreams that night are more like nightmares, dreaming of faces and growing old and rocking in a chair alone in your brother’s house, a burden to his finances, his wife, and children. But then there are some dreams where you see the face of one particular soldier, and wonder why you felt so compelled by him.

[seenoversundown]

I've Got My Love to Keep Me Warm

Warnings: Smut (Oral F receiving, sex sex sex)

Word Count: 1.3k

Andrew x Reader (y/n)

The laughter of our friends echoes down the hall as he guides me further and further away from them. We’re hosting the annual holiday party this year for the first time. It was our third holiday season together but the first one in our new home. 

“They’re going to notice we’re gone, we’re going to get caught,” I say while tugging his hand. I can’t help the fit of giggles that follow. 

“Love, we’re only going to get caught if you’re loud,” Andrew replies, and the heat building in my stomach drops. We continue down the long hallway until we hit the staircase. I’m ready to start tiptoeing up them, trying to remind myself to avoid the squeaky stair halfway up, when Andrew pulls us into the small closet built under the stairs instead, causing me to gasp. 

“This is way too close to everyone else!” I hiss under my breath. 

He laughs while tugging me in further. “We have about ten minutes before Marlow comes looking for me; better make them count.” 

 My protests quickly fail as he attaches his lips to my throat, my ultimate weakness. He pulls me against him as he pushes the door shut with a soft click. I’m holding on to his arms as though they’re life preservers keeping me from drowning in all of him. I feel the low rumble of his laugh as he peppers soft kisses trailing up to my lips. 

As soon as Andrew’s lips touch mine, I feel myself drown. It’s intoxicating as I spiral from our kiss. I let my hands roam over his arms, chest, anything I can touch. It seems as though he feels the same way with the way his hands are pulling my dress up over my thighs. I can feel his fingers slip over the outside of my thong, looping into each side. With one quick movement, he pulls them down and falls to his knees simultaneously. He looks up through his lashes at me, and god, is it a beautiful sight. His pupils are so blown out that I can barely make out the green of his eyes I love so much. I’m breathless looking at how gorgeous this man is. I feel lucky. 

“I’ve been thinking about you all day, love. I need to taste you.” Andrew sounds desperate as he plants kisses on my thighs, almost like he’s waiting for me to permit him.

“Please,” my voice comes out breathless, almost inaudible, but it’s all he needs. He takes his fingers and separates my folds to give me one long swipe of his tongue. I forget our rules, where we are, for a moment, and moan in relief. Finally, my man is where he belongs. 

“You have to stay quiet, love, or I can’t let you finish.” 

My hands instantly go to the back of Andrew’s head. “Sorry, sorry, don’t stop.”

“My needy girl, what am I going to do with you?” He doesn’t give me time to respond as he expertly finds my clit. I’m focusing hard on not making a sound, but I can’t help the whimper that comes out of me when he inserts a single finger. The scrape of his beard on the inside of my thighs is deliciously painful. 

“More, please give me more.” I’m close, something that always happens fast with him. I feel him chuckle, which just makes my clit hum in pleasure, but he complies. I feel the second finger enter me, and I slowly become untethered. My hands are lost in his unruly curls as I hold him against me, chasing my release. His fingers curl inside of me, and I come entirely undone. It’s hard to remember to stay quiet when he makes me feel this good. When he’s sure I’ve come down, he rises from his place on his knees. 

“I need to feel you,” Andrew whispers against my ear as he turns me around. I hear the zipper of his pants before he shrugs them down his thighs. He places the crown of his cock against my entrance, and I can’t help but push up against it; the anticipation is unbearable. 

“My desperate girl can’t wait for me, can she?” My head shakes in response as I hear him tsk behind me. “You know the rules, babe. Use your words.” He slowly removes his cock so he isn’t touching me anymore. 

“Please, please. I need you. I can’t wait.” He’s right, I am desperate for him. 

I hear Andrew’s low chuckle behind me as he repositions himself at my entrance. He doesn’t give me any warning at all before he’s bottoming out inside of me. The mix of our moans fills the tiny closeted space while he brings up a hand to my neck. With his hand slightly tightening on my throat and the other gripped onto my hip, he starts to thrust. 

“You’re so wet for me. Just for me. God, I love being inside you.” Andrew murmurs in my ear. I feel myself melting for him. I press my ass back and spread my legs even more, trying to get as much of him as I can. 

“You need this too, don’t you, babe? My naughty girl, I love when she comes out to play.” I lightly moan in response to his words when his hand gives a warning squeeze around my throat. 

“My naughty girl still needs to be quiet. Wouldn’t want to be found, would we?” 

“No, sorry, please.” My breath hitches in my throat as Andrew thrusts into me at a steady pace. His hand slowly travels up my side as his languid thrusts continue until he reaches the peak of my breast. My nipple is hard, and I need more from him. I don’t have to say anything as he pinches my nipple and gives me the pressure I am desperately searching for. 

“You feel so good, pleasedon’tstop.” I barely recognize my own voice anymore. I love when sex with Andrew sends me into another dimension. 

“Let me feel you come, love, come undone for me.” My orgasm is right on the surface as I listen to his words, but once his hand deserts my breast and makes its way to my clit I am entirely done for. 

It’s hard not to whimper as I come on Andrew’s cock, and it’s hard not to moan when I feel him release inside of me. It feels as though there’s no more air in this closet, just Andrew and I. He stays behind me for a moment, maybe two, just holding me in our post-coital bliss. When he’s ready, he finally pulls out of me, and I can’t help but whimper at the empty feeling. 

Andrew moves around me and cleans me up with my discarded panties. After  he puts them on the shelf out of view, “I’ll come back for these when everyone leaves.” He says as he presses a kiss to my temple. 

“You better not forget them, I swear, Andrew.” 

“Swear what?” He presses a kiss to my lips. “I know how to get on your good side, love. I’m not worried.” He laughs that glorious laugh; it’s the best sound I’ve ever heard. He unlocks the closet door and looks back at me, “ready to go back?” 

“Do I look okay?” I ask as I smooth my dress back out, trying to look as normal as possible. Andrew takes my wrists and stops my movements. 

“You, my love, are ethereal.” A single kiss to my forehead. “Let’s go.” 

As we walk back down the hallway , the voices get louder and louder, seemingly right on time; a small pair of footsteps is running towards us. 

“Uncle Annndreeeewww!!” Marlow bellows. “I’ve been looking for you! Have you been playing hide and seek?” She erupts into a fit of giggles as Andrew lifts her above his head. 

“Absolutely was, Mar. Good job! You found us.” 

I can’t help but laugh behind them as we walk into our living room to be greeted by everyone else. 

“You two were gone for quite some time.” Our friend calls from the other side of the room. 

Andrew’s quick to cover Marlow’s ears before he responds. “You know me, I would never worship and tell.”

[strawberrynightmere]

Bad Cats!!! [Yandere Andrew Graves x female reader]

Warning ⚠️: yandere tendencies, alternate universe, ruining dates, will add more latter, this is short.

A/n: to those who harassed the creator of the intentionally disturbing and grosse horror game, I wish a big ol' FUCK YOU.

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

If you were honest with yourself, this was your fault. Though you shouldn't beat yourself up about it, you should be surprised by the other hand.

From either of your cats, you expected this from Ashley, but Andrew attacking your date? Makes you really think.

Your date didn't like it one bit and stormed out of your apartment. You obviously did chase after them to check if they were okay, and then got rejected in a hurtful way, too. Calling you a future cat lady who's gonna die old and alone.

To say your attraction for them instantly dropped to a -1000 was an understatement. You'd understand if they left because they were allergic or something, but insulting any cat lady and saying you were gonna die old and alone simply because you have two cats was just a jackass thing to do.

Flopping on your couch face first, you groan into the cushions in frustration. It's been so long since you had a date that went well, and a good fuck too.

"Meow."

You lift your head up to see Andrew sitting in front of you. The cat leans down and licks your face. Sitting up, you lift Andrew to your eye level.

"I should be mad at you. However, you did save me from what possibly could've been." Andrew just rubs his face on yours just for some more affection.

"Hehe! That's enough. Let's get you something to eat." Those words were like some form of a summon because Ashley appeared on your shoulder without any sound.

You went into the kitchen and poured some food into their bowls, and went to grab something for yourself from the fridge.

While sitting at the dining table, you contemplate if you should make a phone call or not.

Oh, what the hell you planned to sleep in anyway.

You immediately call your friend to tell her how it went.

"It didn't go good, did it?"

"Well gee, Nina! What do you think about how it went?!" Irritated with her instant and correct assumption, you use a sarcastic reply.

"Alright! Tell me what happened."

Much better.

"It was going well at first. I was feeling it. They were feeling it, too."

"Get to the point."

"Getting there. But when we got to my place, Andrew wasn't feeling it." You hear her laughing in amusement over the phone.

"I'm serious! He attacked them, and then they said some real out of pocket stuff to me."

She's still laughing.

"I'm sorry, Andrew? Are you sure it wasn't Ashley?"

Alright, just because they were both black cats, it didn't mean you couldn't tell the difference between them. You told her that a million times.

"If you're just gonna laugh, then I'll hang up."

"Sorry! Sorry. I just didn't expect it."

You sigh. "Whatever."

"Listen, let's talk tomorrow, I'm going to bed early."

"Alright." You hang up.

"Should've called Julia instead."

You jolt in surprise when you see Andrew sitting on the table, staring at you. "We talked about this." Actually, you talked, were either of them listening or not was a mystery. You place him on the floor and put your empty dishes in the dishwasher and decide you should call it a night and head to bed.

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

Once, Andrew was sure you were deep asleep. He changed into his human form and crawled in bed with you.

"You should've seen your face, Andy, I was so sure you were gonna claw their eyes out." Ashley, who was still in her cat form, spoke.

"Why are you still here?" Andrew whispered irritatedly.

"Oh, come on, I'm living the life of luxury. Why should I leave?" Andrew just rolled his eyes at his sister's excuse, but he knew she'd rather eat glass than admit that she got attached to you.

Deciding to ignore her, Andrew continued to cuddle up to you.

"Aww, you stiw angwy youw giwfwiend bwout someone ewse home?" Now that wasn't needed.

"Shut up."

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

A/n: it wasn't that good, but it wasn't that bad.

[loveisanimaginarydagger3000]

Kinktober (25)- Bondage

Natasha X Reader 18+

Summary: Tied up against the cross, Natasha can't do anything but let you play with her body, knowing you were going to do everything in your power to drive her mad.

Warnings/Tags: Dom Reader/Sub Natasha, X-Cross/ St Andrew's Cross, Restraints, Fingering, Oral, Overstimulation, Multiple Orgasms, Safe words, Aftercare

Kinktober Masterlist

“Oh love,” you sigh out lowly, stepping back from your girlfriend as her chest rose and fell with ragged breaths, anticipation buzzing through her body. Your eyes slowly raked over her body, her arms and legs chained to the X-cross that her back was to, spread out for you to ravish for as long as you wanted. “You look so pretty spread out for me,” you murmur, moving back towards her and pressing a soft kiss to her lips, her trying to chase after you when you pull back. “Colour?”

“Green,” Natasha replies, her eyes staring into your gradually darkening ones as you smirk at her before leaning forwards for another kiss. Hunger and desire take over this one, your tongue sliding into her mouth and dominating it as she moans into your mouth, hands clenching into fists as she can’t fight the restraints. “Please Dorogaya,” she whimpers out when you pull back from the kiss, your mouth attaching to her neck to litter it in marks, claiming her as yours.

“Please what, love?” you murmur, your hands roaming her bare skin, enjoying the way it reacts to your touch.

“Please just touch me already,” she sighs out when your mouth descends to her chest, tongue expertly swirling around her perk nipple while your fingers pinch and tug on the other, a whimper leaving her when your teeth scrape over the sensitive flesh.

“Hush love,” you mutter before taking her other breast into your mouth, peering up at her and smirking around her nipple as you see the pleading look in her green eyes. “I want to play with you first,” your fingers draw random patterns on her inner thighs, her body trying to move closer to your touch but failing, a frustrated groan leaving her lips.

Unhurriedly, you explore every inch of her body, kissing every part of skin you can so she is mad with your touch, craving you to touch her where she needs you to. You drop to your knees, mouth still placing opened mouthed kisses across her lower abdomen, placing an appreciative kiss on each muscle of her toned stomach. Pleas fall from her lips like a chant, the sound of her, Natasha Romanoff, the Black Widow, needy for you clouding your thoughts with lust and desire.

“Do you know how beautiful you are? It’s truly distracting,” you mutter at her thighs, a groan reverberating around the room as you're so close but so far from where she wants, no, needs you. “I bet you’d look even prettier with my fingers inside you though.”

“Please,” she practically whines, arms struggling against the cross, “I need you to fuck me, please make me come,” her words are cut off with a guttural moan when you thrust a finger into her effortlessly, her arousal dripping onto your hand as you pump the long slender digit inside her.

“What was that love? You want to come?” Natasha throbs around you at the tone of your voice, the way you're looking at her like she’s a goddess, “Well then, let’s see how many times you can come for me.” Your mouth finally takes her clit into it, sucking on it while your fingers curl perfectly inside her, pleasure fogging her brain as it becomes hard to form sentences. Your tongue moves to lick at her clit now, occasionally sucking on it to have her pathetically try and buck against your face.

“Right there,” she groans out sinfully, the encouraging noises spilling from lips making you eat her out like you're starved. “Please,” submission drips from her voice as you continue to curl your finger in her, adding another causing a moan to be ripped from the back of her throat. “Fuck, I’m gonna come,” her body tenses against the cross, her cum gushing around your fingers while her legs tremble next to your head as she loses herself in the pleasure.

Moans pour out of her mouth when you don’t stop, simply smirking into her core and speeding up the pace you were mercilessly thrusting your fingers into her, tongue flattening against her clit and letting her rut against it. Her head lolls back against the structure, showing off her marked neck and defined jawline as you glance up, moaning into her core at the sight of her beauty.

Natasha’s mouth parts into an ‘o’ shape as her second orgasm crashes through her body, your name falling off her lips like a prayer while her pussy spasms and clenches hard around your fingers. You pull away from her clit, giving her a brief moment so you don’t overstimulate her and watch as your fingers slowly pump into her with long, deep strokes.

“Fuck,” you mutter, eyes fixated on the sight of her greedy cunt swallowing your fingers, “You take my fingers so well.” Another lewd noise escapes her at your words, you peppering kisses across her thighs again while she whimpers your name again. “Colour?” you ask again, knowing this was an intense scene and not wanting to push her too far.

“Green,” she pants out with no hesitation, you bite down on her inner thigh playfully before moving your fingers that were covered in her arousal to draw circles against her clit, your tongue sliding into her. “Yes, that’s it baby, just like that,” she sighs out seductively while you swirl your tongue inside her, feeling her clench around you and groaning at the sensation. “Shit, I’m coming again,” she screams your name as another orgasm tears through her body, liquid gushing out of her as she squirts over your face, panting heavily as she bucks against you trying to ride out her aftershocks.

“Red,” she says when you experimentally give her another soft lick, body becoming overly sensitive to your touch. You stop your movements, pressing a soft kiss to her thighs before standing back on your feet, cupping her jaw softly and pecking her lips. Her mouth claims yours again, not wanting to end the kiss yet while your hands release hers from their restraints against the cross.

“You were perfect for me love,” you praise quietly when you part for breath, her arms wrapping around your neck and holding onto you for support, legs not stable. You let her hold onto your head when you bend down to release her legs from their bounds, then return upright and snaking your arms around her middle. “Do you want a bath or a shower?” you murmur, starting her aftercare as she buries her face at the crook of your neck.

“Bath,” she whispers, breath tickling your skin as you scoop her up into your arms and guide her out of the room to the bathroom. You gently place her to sit on the toilet seat, apologising when her skin makes contact with the cold material before running the bath just how she likes it. Soon enough, the two of you are in the bath, her leaning back into your embrace as you just let her enjoy the water relaxing her body. “Thank you for taking care of me,” she softly says, looking over her shoulder slightly at you.

“You don’t need to thank me love,” you lean forwards till your forehead rests against hers, “I’ll always take care of you. I love you.”

“I love you too, Dorogaya.” 

[stellar-constellations]

Star Patient: Chapter 3 (ONGOING SLOW BURN SERIES)

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), and possibly more.

Inaccurate canon-timeline (this is before Ashley and Andrew murdered their parents).

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: 8,650 words (a big chapter since the next chapter will take some time to complete).

Chapters: Chapter 1, Chapter 2, current chapter, chapter 4, chapter 5, chapter 6, chapter 7, chapter 8, chapter 9 (in the works)

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

Andrew’s brain surgery to drain the excessive blood was a success! Andrew felt loopy from all the twilight anesthesia they injected into him so he was asleep during the surgery, but he’s no longer suffering from double-vision, maybe soon he can start remembering things again.

        Andrew locked his wheelchair in place and refused to move from the hallway. He was dead set on waiting for (Y/N). Any nurse or doctor that tried to come near him to bring him back to his room (or get him out of the way) would be slapped away and assaulted with the most vile curse words that would make a nun have a heart attack. Whenever Andrew heard footsteps coming, he’d look over, eyes sparkling in excitement, before dropping once noticing it wasn’t in fact (Y/N).

        Another set of footsteps could be heard walking down the hallway. Andrew looked over and resisted the urge to smile or seem excited that she came.

        “Hi, Andrew! Sorry I’m late. I was watching the infants until the NNP came back.” (Y/N) explained.

        God, he loved how she said his name. Did it have to do with how damn cute she was, or was her voice really just that enchanting?

        “How do you feel? Tired? Dizzy? Loopy? Hungry? Thirsty?” she questioned, bombarding him with questions.

        “Mm.” Andrew shrugged his shoulders, resisting the urge to wince, but failing.

        “Oh, does your head hurt?" (Y/N) questioned. "Oh, well obviously it must! You had surgery!” she commented, realizing how stupid her question was.

        “It just hurts a bit…” Andrew muttered.

        “Let’s get you back to your room, then I’ll give you some painkillers.” She spoke.

        Andrew unlocked his wheelchair and started rolling away without (Y/N)’s help, stopping in front of her with a pointed stare glare as if to say “are we leaving yet?”

        “Oh! You got the hang of it. Good job, Andrew!” (Y/N) praised, causing him to advert his eyes and huff.

        “It’s not a big deal… It's a pretty easy thing to learn.” Andrew explained, ignoring how his heartbeat increased.

        “Aw, don’t be like that. You did it all on your own in only a few minutes, and you learned how to turn the wheel! That’s impressive!” (Y/N) smiled, only causing Andrew’s face to get more red.

        “Are you done?” Andrew huffed.

        “Okay, okay. Let’s get going.” She chuckled. “Follow me.” 

        Andrew didn’t exactly trust her sense of direction, especially considering earlier’s wild goose chase, but Andrew didn’t mind getting lost with her—it meant he got to spend a little extra time with her.

        “Before we go to your room, do you mind if I make a quick stop to a friend?” she questioned as they entered the elevator together.

        A friend? Andrew thought, a sore and red hot bubble starting to simmer in his chest. Who the hell is it?

        “Her name is Hailey. She has cancer so please be nice to her. She doesn’t have many visitors anymore so maybe you two could be friends!” (Y/N) cheered, excited at the possibility of the two of them getting along as she pressed the second floor button.

        At least it’s a girl. Andrew thought, the bubble of jealousy losing its fire-like temperature, but still having a bit of flame to it. 

        They exited the elevator when the doors opened and strolled down the hallway, (Y/N) stopping at a door and knocking on it.

        “Come in.” A girl, Hailey, spoke.

        She opened the door, keeping it open for Andrew to wheel his way in before she shut the door behind them.

        “Hey, Hails. I have a friend of mine I’d like you to meet. He might have a grumpy face, but he’s nice when you get to know him.” (Y/N) teased.

        Andrew shot her an unimpressed glare as he looked at her, before redirecting his attention to Hailey.

        “Hi…” he muttered, not quite interested in the conversation.

        “Hello…” she whispered shyly.

        With how long it’s been since she’s socialized with anyone except the nurses, she’s most likely insecure of her appearance. This is a good opportunity for her to re-learn how to make friends and have confidence, and now Andrew has someone he can visit and talk to when I’m off of work. She thought to herself.

        “Andrew, this is Hailey. Hailey, this is Andrew. I hope you both can be good friends.” (Y/N) introduced, a smile on her face. 

        Fat chance. Andrew thought, resisting the urge to roll his eyes.

        They both stared at each other awkwardly before (Y/N) spoke up.

        “So, Hailey. How is the book so far?” she questioned.

        “I’m interested in it. I don’t understand why Nora wants to die though.” Hailey spoke.

        “Oh, I see.” She nodded. “This is one of my favorite books to recommend. After reading it, it really makes you look at life in a different perspective. Nora wants to die because she lacks happiness, or fulfillment, in her life. She hasn’t found a motive in her life to carry on because she’s so caught up in her own burdens and feelings.”

        “But why is she sad? She gets to go outside and live.” Hailey questioned, genuinely confused.

        Nora has what Hailey doesn’t, and Nora’s taking it for granted. (Y/N) thought to herself, understanding what Hailey means.

        “Do you want a simple definition or the long one? Like, science or no science.” (Y/N) questioned, taking a seat on Hailey's bedside Andrew silently huffing and glaring as she did so.

        “No science.” Hailey smiled.

        Hailey prefers subjects that are sugarcoated, they’re much easier to understand. She is ten, so (Y/N) supposes that's understandable.

        “Well, Nora is missing something in her life, but she doesn’t know what it is yet. Everyone is made differently. She is sad because she doesn't have anymore passions in her life because she never stuck to pursuing them, and she felt like she couldn’t confide in anyone.” (Y/N) explained. "Humans are social creatures, we need communication and care from others in order to functional normally. Nora doesn't have that, or at least, she has very little of it."

        “So Nora wants to die because she doesn’t know what she’s missing and she's alone?” Hailey questioned.

        “In a way, yeah.” (Y/N) nodded. “Because she’s so sad, she’s not even trying to live the life she was given. When people are as sad as Nora, they don’t eat or shower or take care of themselves because it all feels meaningless.” 

        Why does that sound familiar? Andrew thought to himself. 

        “I understand now.” Hailey nodded.

        “Andrew, do you like books?” (Y/N)questioned, the two girls directing their attention towards him.

        “I’m not too sure. I don’t read much.” Andrew answered.

        “Maybe you just haven't found a good book yet. What genre movies do you like?" (Y/N0 questioned.

        Movies? He just watched whatever was on the TV when he was locked in that apartment, but he was so hungry that he didn't have the willpower to actually focus on what was on the screen half the time. 

        "I don't know... anything really..." Andrew mumbled.

        "Let's find a book genre you like! We'll start with Hailey." (Y/N) smiled. "Hailey, do you have any suggestions for him to read?" 

        "Maybe... The Outsiders?" Hailey suggested at a moment of thought, a bit hesitant but starting to warm up just slightly with the new presence in the room.

        But what about your special pick for me you said you'd give? Andrew complained inside his head.

        "The S.E. Hinton one?" (Y/N) questioned.

        "Yes." Hailey smiled.

        "Oh, that's a good one. My favorite character was Sodapop." (Y/N) commented.

        "I liked Darry. He was smart and cool." Hailey chimed in.        

        "What about the book you wanted to show me earlier? The one specifically picked out for me for when I get out of surgery?" Andrew questioned, not exactly caring if it sounded rude to reject Hailey's suggestion.

        "Oh! Yeah. The book is called Eye of the Minds by James Dasher. He made the Maze Runner series if you had seen the movies." (Y/N) explained. "It's a sci-fi. I figured we could give that a try and see if you enjoyed it." 

        "I remembered when you showed me that book! The main protagonist was funny." Hailey commented.

        Andrew briefly wondered how long these two spent together everyday. The more he thought about it, the more he started to get jealous again. By now his headache was subsiding while his anger just grew.

        I never thought I'd be jealous at a little kid... he thought to himself. ...Why even am I jealous? 

        "(Y/N)..." Andrew sighed, succeeding in gaining the nurse's attention. "My head still hurts and I'm tired." He spoke.

        "Oh! I'm sorry, Andrew. I was excited to hear Hailey's input to the book. I didn't mean to neglect you." (Y/N) spoke, immediate guilt forming in her chest as a frown drew on her face.

        I didn't mean to make her feel bad... Andrew thought to himself, resisting the urge to sigh.

        "I'll see you later, hails. I'm going to take Andrew back to his room. I'll make sure to visit before leaving today." (Y/N) spoke, waving to Hailey as she opened the door for her and Andrew.

        "Okay." Hailey nodded, returning the nurse's wave as she watched them leave and shut the door behind them.

        "I didn't mean to ignore your pain, Andrew. I'm a bit of a scatterbrain, but that's no excuse." (Y/N) sighed, walking with Andrew to the elevators.

        "It's okay. You didn't mean it..." Andrew murmured.        

        "I won't do it again." She promised, a smile on her face as she and Andrew made it to the elevators and got an open one, walking into it.

        She pressed the fourth floor button and waited for the elevator to go. Even if she was growing to enjoy Andrew's company, she did feel a little uneasy being in the same elevator as him all alone.

        "So, Andrew. Do you have any favorite shows?" she questioned, trying to make small talk.

        "..Huh?" Andrew voiced, confused on where that came from.

        "I'll be seeing you pretty often now. I want us to build a connection." She explained. "A good way to do that is finding out each other's likes and dislikes." 

        Andrew huffed, ignoring the warmth in his chest that her confession made him feel. They walked out of the elevator and down the hallway, stopping at the staff's room.

        "I don't really like anything." Andrew admitted.

        "I refuse to believe that. We'll find something!" she smiled, determined. "Wait here a second." She instructed, pulling her lanyard from out of her shirt and grabbing her keys, unlocking the staff door.

        "Hi, Penelope." (Y/N) greeted once seeing the female present.

        "Ah. Hello, (Y/N)!" Penelope cheered, her strawberry blonde hair swaying as she stood up from her seat. "How was patient 402? Did he-" she looked behind (Y/N) and made an "eek!" sound, backing up.

        "Don't worry about him, just taking him back to his room. I had to grab painkillers first though." (Y/N) spoke, unlocking the medicine cabinet grabbing a pill bottle of ibuprofen and a bottle of water. 

        She grabbed a napkin and opened the pill bottle, putting two small tablets on the cloth. She walked over to Andrew with the napkin and water.        

        "Here, Andrew." She spoke, gently grabbing Andrew's hand and placing the pills in his palm.

        He accepted it and put them in his mouth without any hesitation. (Y/N) opened the water and tilted his head up, bringing the water bottle to his mouth, just in case he couldn't hold it on his own because of the weakening limbs from the surgery's sedation. He took greedy sips before tapping her hand, allowing her to move the bottle and screw on the lid.

        "There you go." She cooed. "Good job." 

        Why is she so much better at this job than me? She's a student! Why is my patient so trusting of her? Penelope thought. Aw, they look like such a couple! They're both so attractive too! This is too embarrassing! 

        Instead of doing what Penelope was thinking, she just spoke her mind.

        "W-wow..." Penelope muttered, utterly confused, shocked, and a bit flustered.

        "What?" (Y/N) questioned, turning to look at the young nurse.

        "Ack! Nothing!" she exclaimed, her face red as she covered her eyes with her hands.

        "Pen, are you feeling okay?" (Y/N) questioned, taking some steps towards Penelope. "Did you get enough sleep? Do you need food? Water?-"

        "N-no thanks!" she shouted, her face growing even redder at the thought of (Y/N) tilting her head and nursing her with a water bottle instead.

        Andrew understood immediately what was happening as he watched the two interact.

        Damn that nurse... Andrew thought to himself, glaring daggers at Penelope from behind (Y/N)'s shoulder.

        (Y/N) jumped, moving back a little, completely dazed and confused as she looked at the nurse. 

        THAT'S SO EMBARRASSING! Penelope screamed instead her head, resisting the urge to curl up in a ball and scream her heart out.

        Penelope has a problem with loving people too much. It's one of the reasons she became a doctor, to find someone in need and nurse them with her medicine and love. Unfortunately, she's a very shy person and stresses too easily, so her bursts of lovesickness can sometimes be too much for her heart and mind (it's one of the reasons Ruby from day shift can't stand her).

        "Okay...?" (Y/N) spoke, hesitantly. "If you need any help, call me. Okay?" 

        Penelope nodded quickly and spoke, quick to have the pair leave. "I understand! Bye now!" 

        Penelope shoved (Y/N) out of the room (Andrew just about ready to stand up and fight her, if it could walk, that is). Penelope locked the door behind them both as (Y/N) looked back, confused.

        "Huh, that's a little more of a panic attack than usual..." (Y/N) muttered to herself. "Okay, Andrew! Let's get you to your room." She smiled, acting as if nothing happened.

        (Y/N) walked down the hallway and grabbed a security guard that was stationed nearby, having them pick up Andrew and place him in his bed since she wasn't strong enough (she worked with picking up kids, not adults).

        "Alright, Andrew. You're probably really tired after your surgery. I'll leave you be." (Y/N) explained, watching as the security guard left.

        Just before she leaves, Andrew spoke up.

        "Will you be back later?" Andrew questioned, hesitant as he hid his flustered face by turning his head to the side, away from her view.

        "Of course! You can't get rid of me that easy, ya know?" she smiled.

        "Great..." Andrew sighed, not-so-sarcastically as he wished.

        "Oh, before I leave. Make sure you're behaving with the other nurses, they're only trying to help you." (Y/N) lightly scolded.

        I don't want their help. I want yours... Andrew thought to himself, resisting the urge to grimace at her words.

        “Ah, and before I forget too!” she gasped, reaching into her medical back and grabbing a book. “This is a sci-fi dystopian. You might like it! If not, no worries. We’ll find a genre for you.” She spoke, placing the book on his nightstand. “Don’t worry about reading it right now. Just sleep.”

        Andrew looked at the book, then her, before nodding. 

        (Y/N) left the room and shut the door behind her, letting out a sigh. 

        What do I do now? she thought to herself. Today feels so slow... I guess I can go back to the clinic and see what Doctor Ryan's doing. Or maybe I should go check on Penelope? She was panicky today.

        (Y/N) decided to check out Penelope and see what's up with her. (Y/N) is aware of Penelope's random bursts of lovesick confessions (Penelope has gotten into too much trouble with HR because of it, so everyone in the hospital knows about it), but (Y/N) had never really seen it take ahold of her that bad. Usually Penelope resorts to compliments (and light stalking), not full on shutting her brain down and panic.

        Did she find a new crush? (Y/N) wondered.

        Ever since (Y/N) became a student studying general pediatrics here at the hospital, she’s had her fair share of taking care of a patient every once in a blue moon for the psychiatric brand in case a nurse had a emergency and needed to leave. She met Penelope when Ruby had to leave because her daughter was in labor, and the usual nurse that took over Ruby's patients for the night shift had come up with the flu. (Y/N) had taken over Ruby’s patients that night and met Penelope, Penelope explaining what (Y/N) would have to do as a psychiatric nurse for the day.

        That was four months ago. They can technically be considered friends but they have the habit of being a little distant, though it’s slowly fading away ever since they agreed on hanging out every Saturday. Their Saturdays consisted of shopping and running errands together since it’s a day they’re both off. 

        (Y/N) walked back down to the staff room and unlocked the door, finding Penelope on the table face-down.

        “Are you okay?” (Y/N) questioned, standing a good distance from Penelope in case she needed some space.

        “How do you do it?” Penelope questioned, lifting her face off the table.

        “Do what?” (Y/N) questioned.

        “How can you be so calm with such cute guys?!” Penelope shouted, balling up her fists as her face went red.

        Does Penelope have a crush on Andrew? (Y/N) thought to herself.

        Her stomach twisted in either disgust or anger, probably both. She felt like throwing up as she thought about Penelope and Andrew together.

        Andrew was supposed to be Penelope’s patient, but (Y/N) swept him away from her after caring for him one day. Penelope had worked day shift that day since she was taking over one of the day nurses shifts because they were taking the day off for her son's graduation, so Penelope switched shifts with them for the day and worked their day shift, resulting in working with Andrew. However, apparently Andrew didn't like her care enough, or perhaps (Y/N) just has a more calm aura around her compared to Penelope. How she won Andrew over, she’s not sure, but he chose her. He chose her, not Penelope.

        “Ah, well… I guess I’m just really good at hiding what I feel?” (Y/N) smiled, feeling her polite smile twitch.

        “I’m hopeless. How can I ever find someone to love if I just freak out like this...?” Penelope sighed.

        “There, there, pen. I’m sure you’ll find someone one day.” (Y/N) comforted her, patting Penelope’s shoulder.

        Yes, not today or tomorrow. Not Andrew. (Y/N) thought to herself.

        “What will I do without you?!” Penelope cried, throwing herself on (Y/N) and hugging her tightly as she wept into her chest.

        (Y/N) resisted the urge to push Penelope off her. This was seriously unprofessional and she's certain if one of her coworkers (or worse, her superior and trainer Doctor Ryan) walked in, they'd possibly be sent to HR for how this may look. As much as they’re decent-ish friends, she’s not on the hugging level yet, but she doesn’t want to push Penelope off in case Penelope starts crying about that instead. 

        “Aw, pen. You’re too pretty to be crying about boys! Your eyeshadow is getting ruined.” (Y/N) spoke, diverting the subject. 

        “Aw jeez! Look what I did! I’m such a klutz…” Penelope sniffled, grabbing her phone and opening the camera to selfie-mode. “Aw! It was my good eye too! That took forever to even out.” 

        “How about I help you fix it?” (Y/N) offered.

        “You’re the best.” Penelope smiled, wiping the tears out of her eyes, only smudging her eyeshadow worse on both sides now.

        “Don’t mention it. Do you have the makeup on you?” (Y/N) questioned.

        “Yep.” Penelope spoke, cheering up as she grabbed her makeup purse from her staff locker.

        She sat down on the staff room table and handed the bag to (Y/N), allowing the girl to look through her most prized possessions that kept her feeling cute and confident.

        (Y/N) found an eyeshadow box and opened it, browsing the colors and looking for the right one Penelope had smudged all over her.

        “Cute colors.” (Y/N) commented, adoring the light shades of pinks and nudes.

        “Thank you.” Penelope blushed, watching as (Y/N) grabbed a small bag of makeup wipes and opening them.

        (Y/N) grabbed a wipe and scooted closer to Penelope, grabbing her chin and angling it down so (Y/N) could see better. Penelope ignored the blush rising in her face and her heartbeat increasing, instead opting to close her eyes to ignore the closeness the two shared as (Y/N) wiped the makeup off Penelope’s face.

        (Y/N) noticed the blush on Penelope’s face and decided it’d be best not to acknowledge it or tease her. The first time (Y/N) noticed Penelope’s blush when they first met, she made a joke about it that left Penelope speechless around her for a few days. (Y/N) would rather not experience that awkwardness again. 

        If anybody walked in right now, (Y/N) prays that it’s anybody but a manager or Andrew. With how close they are right now, anyone would get the wrong idea.

        She wiped off the remaining makeup before grabbing a small brush and dabbed it in the light pink shade Penelope applied earlier, fixing her eye makeup. It took a few minutes before (Y/N) finished it.

        “Ta-dah!” (Y/N) cheered, resisting the powerful urge to say “you were my star patient today, have a sticker.” (It’s grown in her vocabulary now).

        “Thanks.” Penelope smiled, grabbing her phone and admiring herself in the camera.

        “No problem. I’m going to get back to the pediatric branch. If there’s any problems make sure to come find me.” (Y/N) explained. “Oh, we're still meeting up tomorrow, right? Think about what doughnuts you want! See you later!” (Y/N) waved, quickly shutting the staff door without waiting for Penelope’s farewell.

        Now that that’s all out of the way… I should get back to Doctor Ryan. (Y/N) thought to herself.

        There was a lingering feeling dwelling inside of her. She still felt sick, like kneeling down and spilling her guts out on the floor. Her chest still bubbled with anger, feeling as though steam is escaping through her ears. 

        It’ll probably take all night for me to calm down. (Y/N) figured, letting out a sigh. What was I angry about again? she thought.

        She walked away from the staff room and down the hallway, heading to the elevators. She boarded on and pressed the second floor button, leaning onto the handrail. The elevator’s movement only worsen the discomfort in her stomach.

        (Y/N) exited the elevator when the doors opened, walking down the hallway to the staff room. She would’ve made it there if she didn’t hear obnoxiously loud whispering in the room next to her, sounding similar to a toddler bickering. She peeked in the room and saw two little boys huddled together in front of a hanging white sheet, speaking to what appears as themselves. She noticed the hospital wrist bands on their arms, confirming their admission here.

        “What are you two doing?” (Y/N) questioned, crossing her arms. 

        They both jumped, letting out their own squeals as they turned around and looked at her.

        “N-nothing! Just… playing!” one smiled.

        They both looked like twins, (Y/N) noted.

        “You both should be in your rooms. What are your names?” she questioned.

        “I’m Tom, that’s Jerry.” The other toddler introduced themselves as.

        “Like the cartoon?” she questioned, a smile on her face.

        “Um… yes?” he spoke, hesitantly.

        Wow. Am I that old? They obviously haven’t seen it… she thought to herself.

        “Well, it sure matches you both, since you sneaked out of your rooms. Who are you talking to?” (Y/N) questioned, resisting the urge to peek behind the curtain.

        Yeah. Like I’m that dumb… I’m not going to die like Psycho from a killer hiding behind a damn curtain. She thought to herself. And there’s no way I’m investigating either. I don’t mess with ghosts.

        “Come along, now.” (Y/N) spoke.

        (Y/N) watched as they walked away, shooting each other glares. She looked at the curtain once last time before shutting the door and walking away. If she looked behind the curtain, she would’ve saw Ashley hiding from the security guard, a scalpel in her hand and ready to attack (Y/N) and the kids if the curtain was opened. Ashley was still mad at Andrew, and now she was mad at all the nurses in the hospital, but especially Andrew’s new nurse he grew to favor. 

        (Y/N) led the two kids to the staff room and unlocked the door, peeking in and looking for any nurse that recognizes these two. She saw one of the pediatric nurses, Wally, and smiled.

        “Ah, Wally. Do you know these two?” (Y/N) questioned, bringing the two kids into the room.

        “I thought I locked their doors. They kept trying to escape…” Wally sighed, standing up from his seat.

        “I used a pen to escape.” Jerry smiled. “Then broke Tom out.”

        “Well, thank you for telling me how you got out, because now there’s a no pen policy in your rooms.” Wally spoke, giving them a stern glare.

        “Aw! You just had to run your mouth!” Tom huffed.

        “You didn’t stop me!” Jerry poorly excused as Wally dragged them back to their hospital rooms.

        “How was I supposed to know what you were gonna say?” Tom questioned.

        I wonder what they’re in here for. (Y/N) thought to herself. They sure seem energetic for being sick or injured, but I supposed it could be something internal. 

        She decided to ignore it and refill her medical bag. She grabbed a new bottle of water and pretzels since she gave her old pair to Hailey earlier. 

        She walked out of the room and locked the door, heading back to the clinic. She found Doctor Ryan’s office and stood outside, waiting a few minutes in case there was a patient, that way in case a patient was getting a shot they wouldn't get startled and jump, accidentally breaking the needle or causing harm. She heard nothing from inside the door and assumed there was no patients, so she knocked gently.

        “Come in.” Doctor Ryan spoke.

        “Hello, sir.” (Y/N) greeted, entering the room and shutting the door behind them. “Is there any new patients today?” 

        “Only walk-ins, remember?” Doctor Ryan reminded.

        “Yeah, but I’m so bored…” she sighed.

        “I’ve never met a student that’s actually excited to work.” Doctor Ryan admitted, chuckling.

        “Not all that excited, but I woke up today to go to work, and I get paid to work, so I wanna work. Time is so slow when there’s nothing to do.” (Y/N) rambled.

        “I agree. Hey, I heard you got Andrew admitted for surgery. Internal bleeding in the brain?” Doctor reminded.

        (Y/N) felt a flash of worry and she grimaced.

        “Was that… the wrong call?” she questioned, not even bothering to hide the discomfort and worry on her face.

        “It was the right call. Good job. I just wanted to see you squirm.” The doctor laughed.

        “Sheesh, you worried me! I thought I got fired before evening getting the real job.” (Y/N) sighed.

        “Sorry, sorry. How is he doing? Social-wise? Is he still stingy towards the other nurses?” he questioned.

        “I introduced him to Hailey today. They both were quiet, but they interacted for a bit, which is good considering Hailey hasn’t seen a new visitor in a while.” She explained. "He saw Penelope too and didn't throw anything at her. So that's... good?"

        “How’s Hailey’s condition?” Doctor Ryan asked.

        “She’s only getting worse. I really don’t think she’ll live for long.” (Y/N) sighed, a frown forming on her face.

        “That’s unfortunate. Sadly, it’s part of our job to see them go sometimes.” Doctor Ryan spoke, patting her shoulder. “But hey, we’re here to help prevent that.”

        “That does remind me, when is Hailey’s next chemotherapy session?” she questioned.

        “It’ll be Sunday, but you and me won’t be here. With our day off and all.” Doctor Ryan explained. “Any plans?”

        “I’m hanging out with Penelope from the psychiatric branch tomorrow. Sunday I’ll catch up on sleep.” (Y/N) informed.

        She noticed his smug expression and glared at him, but that didn’t stop him from making his joke.

        “Well, I bet Andr-“ 

        “Don’t finish it.” (Y/N) warned.

        “Okay. Okay.” He chuckled.

        “What do you plan on doing?” she questioned, redirecting the conversation. 

        “Hanging out with my wife and kids. Probably get no sleep.” He shrugged.

        “Poor you, family man.” (Y/N) teased.

        “You don’t understand what it’s like trying to sleep in a house with two toddlers during the day. It’s not very easy.” He explained.

        “How’s the wife and kids anyway?” (Y/N) questioned.

        “Jax just celebrated his third birthday. Piper’s learning to read. And Jane wants me to work day shift.” Doctor Ryan sighed.

        “Well, why don’t you?” (Y/N) questioned. “You sleep in the day and can’t spend time with your family at night since they're sleeping. I think it’d be best.” 

        “Exactly. Everyone does that. We don’t have enough nurses for night shift, especially skilled ones.” Doctor Ryan huffed, then remembered that (Y/N) technically qualifies as unskilled, at the moment at least. “Which is why I teach you! So I can skedaddle!” 

        “I’ll be the best pediatrician here.” (Y/N) smiled, then noticed the stare Doctor Ryan gave her. “Night shift wise, I will be. You’ll be on the day shift.”

        Doctor Ryan’s walkie-talkie went off, catching both of their attention.         

        “Doctor Ryan, a nurse is bringing a patient to you. Possible UTI.” The walkie-talkie spoke.

        “Aw, poor kid.” (Y/N) spoke.

        “Yeah, poor kid alright.” Doctor Ryan grimaced, just imagining the pain and discomfort.

        “Well, let’s get it checked out then prescribe antibiotics if they’re right.” She sighed, stretching her arms out and cracking her knuckles.         .         .         Thirty minutes before (Y/N)’s shift and she felt exhausted. The work day went by pretty fast and now she was walking down the hallway to see Hailey.

        She slowly opened the door, not wanting to knock and accidentally wake up Hailey, but she wanted to make sure Hailey was still breathing.

        She expected to see a sleeping girl but instead she saw that she was wide awake, using her nightstands lamp as a light so she could read.

        “Hailey!” (Y/N) lightly hissed through her teeth, quiet so she doesn’t accidentally wake up any nearby patients sleeping in their rooms.

        “Hello, Ms. (L/N).” Hailey smiled, unphased that she got caught. 

        “It’s 5:30 in the morning and you’re still up. You should’ve been long in bed sleeping.” She scolded, walking up to Hailey and sitting down on her guest chair. “But, since you’re up. How’s the book?”

        “I think it’s really interesting, the way her decisions could have such consequences. I never thought decisions would mean so much.” Hailey explained.

        “Of course. You know, I had to decide if I wanted to be a nurse or a writer.” (Y/N) admitted.

        “Well, you’re a nurse now.” Hailey smiled, before it dropped. “Do… you think if you weren’t a nurse, would we have never met?” 

        “Probably not.” (Y/N) admitted, not bothering to sugarcoat it to her. "But that's just a consequence from my decision. Not all consequences mean bad things. I don't regret not being a writer either. I'm here with you, aren't I?" she smiled, patting Hailey's hand reassuringly.

        "Uh, that boy from earlier..." Hailey started.

        (Y/N)'s smile disappeared as she felt a bolt of lightning strike her. She felt sick again, and her chest started to pop and boil, and her hands started to tremble. She dug her nails into her palms once more and tilted her head, leaning in close to listen to the girl.

        "He was scary..." Hailey muttered, causing (Y/N) to let out a forced giggle.

        "Ah, yes. I supposed Andrew was. But he's real sweet when he opens up." (Y/N) smiled, giving her a small white lie since she really didn't know herself if Andrew was sweet, but she at least wanted to ease the girl's nerves.

        "I think he likes you." Hailey teased, letting out a girlish giggle.

        "Everyone apparently thinks that." (Y/N) laughed, recalling Doctor Ryan's words. 

        "Well, do you like him back?" Hailey questioned.        

        "Oh, hails. I just met him yesterday!" (Y/N) pointed out, shaking her head as she smiled.

        "It's true love at first sight!" Hailey declared.

        "Where'd you learn that saying?" (Y/N) questioned.

        "I'm serious! I think you two would be really cute, you're like polar opposites!" Hailey claimed, ignoring (Y/N)'s previous question.

        Really, personality-wise, I don't think we're too different. Hailey doesn't understand my outside-work persona. (Y/N) thought to herself as she just smiled and went along with what Hailey said.

        "You should confess!" Hailey encouraged. 

        "What's with you and this?" (Y/N) questioned.

        "I know I won't live long enough to experience love like in the books... so I figured the second best thing would be having you live it." Hailey smiled, her smile fake and twitching.

        "Oh, hails..." (Y/N) sighed, getting up from her chair and walking to Hailey's bedside.

        Hailey scooted over so that (Y/N) could sit on the bed with her. Hailey immediately wrapped her arms around (Y/N)'s torso and dug her face into (Y/N)'s chest, her shoulders heaving up and down, giving away that she was crying. (Y/N) sighed and wrapped one of her arms around Hailey, the other she used to gently caress Hailey's bald scalp, a permanent reminder of her condition.

        (Y/N) wanted to tell her that Hailey would be alright, that she would make it through, but she knew she couldn't promise that, especially to a little kid. She wasn't going to accidentally give the girl false hope and have her miserable on her potential death bed. 

        "You're such a sweet girl, any boy would fall for you instantly. Your cute little button nose and brown eyes would have any boy smitten. Your laugh and sweet personality would have any boy confess their love for you. If you made some friends with the boys here in this branch, you'll have so many guys surrounding you, you wouldn't know what to do!" (Y/N) reassured, poking Hailey's nose and causing her to giggle.

        "Do you think they'd still like me even without hair?" Hailey questioned.

        "Course they would. If a boy only likes you for your looks, punch him for me." (Y/N) joked, smiling.

        "I will." Hailey giggled.

        "Hey, I'll tell you what. When I come back on Monday, I'll take you out to the garden. The flowers are in bloom this year!" (Y/N) spoke.

        "Promise?" Hailey gasped.

        "I swear on my life." (Y/N) smiled. "Now, I'm going to go pay Andrew a little visit. You better sleep when I leave this room, understand?” (Y/N) questioned.

        “Yes.” Hailey nodded.

        “Thank you. And good job today, Hailey. I’m so proud of you for talking with Andrew and staying strong as always. What color star would you like today?” (Y/N) asked, reaching into her medical bag.

        “Purple.” Hailey smiled.

        “You got it.” (Y/N) smiled, placing the sticker down onto Hailey’s nightstand. “Goodnight, hails. I’ll see you Monday.” 

        “Goodnight.” Hailey smiled, getting comfortable in her bed.

        (Y/N) walked out of the room and closed the door, making her way to the elevators. She got on and pressed the fourth floor button, waiting for the elevator to stop moving. The doors opened and she walked out and to Andrew’s room. She made it in front of the door then knocked.

        There was no answer.

        Ah, Andrew must’ve went to bed like I asked. It’s good that he actually listens to me. (Y/N) thought, a smile appearing on her face at the thought of having possibly tamed the cannibalistic murderer (however she did, she does not know).

        (Y/N) opened the door quietly, just to check. It’s also a possibility that he could’ve died in his sleep due to the anesthesia or a error in the surgery. It could also be a possibility that he jumped out of the window since he’s on suicide-watch (not like any other nurse had the nerves to come in and actually leave with no bruises).

        She opened the door and noted that he was still in bed, sleeping peacefully. His heart monitor was still on and showed his vitals, all sounding normal and looked it too. Her heart sped up a bit as she watched him sleep peacefully.

        He looks so peaceful. (Y/N) noted, admiring his vulnerable and slumbering figure. 

        He was handsome when he wasn't frowning. Well, even when he did have a scowl on his face, he was certainly able to make such an ugly face a pretty one. His pale skin in comparison to his dark hair was breathtaking, and his green eyes were simply divine, like Granny Smith apples; sour and tart, but a hint of sweet when you bite down just right.

        She eventually snapped out of her trance after remembering that she was still in the hallway and what she was doing was no doubt creepy, and shut the door. It probably would’ve been a good idea to have told him that she would be gone for a few days, but she’s sure he’ll manage decently. 

        She walked away and to the branch’s staff room, unlocking the door. Lucky, there was no one in for her to have to converse with—nobody except Penelope. Penelope patients were always the most tamest and laidback since HR knew her.. questionable... personality.

        “Hey!” Penelope smiled, just finishing clocking out.

        “Hello!” (Y/N) greeted back, walking towards her and grabbing the clipboard and pen from her hands as Penelope handed it to her.

        “How was patient 402 today?” Penelope questioned.

        “Ah, he had surgery so I didn’t see much of him. He saw Hailey for a few minutes before he went to his room and slept.” (Y/N) explained. 

        “Oh, that’s wonderful! I’m so glad he’s doing okay and I’m glad he’s getting along with Hailey.” Penelope squealed.

        “Mmhm.” (Y/N) hummed, finishing her clock-out.

        She used the computer and typed up today's report for all her patients. When she got to Andrew's she typed: get casting on leg done immediately while he’s still asleep so he or his sister doesn’t get hostile. 

        Penelope read the screen from over (Y/N)’s shoulder, then spoke.

        “Oh. His sister? I haven’t seen her since yesterday!” Penelope explained.

        “Huh. Well, maybe she had something to do today?” (Y/N) reasoned. 

        “Maybe! But I heard from Ruby that she was kicked out of the hospital after she got aggressive with Andrew. She probably got banned from returning.” Penelope explained.

        (Y/N) physically grimaced, a scowl forming on her face at Penelope saying Andrew’s name. She really didn’t like it when Penelope said his name and she’s not sure why.

        “Is there something wrong? Did you forget to do something?” Penelope questioned.

        “Oh, no. I just made the face because I can’t believe his sister could be so mean to him while he’s injured.” (Y/N) smiled forcefully.

        “Right? Poor Andrew… I really hope he doesn’t have to see her anytime soon! It makes me wonder how she usually treats him uninjured.” Penelope frowned, pitying the poor patient who wasn’t in the room.

        (Y/N) grimaced again, hating her saying “Andrew” just as much as she hated it the first time, if not, even stronger.

        “I agree.” She spoke through her smiling teeth, another forceful grin. "Welp!" she smiled, clapping her hands together. "See you tomorrow, Penelope!" she spoke, quick to clock out and leave. 

        (Y/N) quickly walked down the hall to the elevators, hopping in and pressing the lobby button. She took a moment to compose herself, leaning against the railing.

        I feel so weird today. My chest feels like it's being squeezed and I feel almost angry... She thought, confused of her emotions. 

        Maybe she didn't eat a big enough lunch. When she gets home, she'll eat dinner and drink lots of water before heading to bed. Yeah, she could use the meal and the sleep. It can be really difficult being the caretaker when you have no one to care for you, but in her own words, "in order to care for another, you must first learn to care for yourself."

        She got in her car and drove back to her apartment, shutting the door and locking it before she collapsed on her living room's couch. She laid on her back for a few minutes, staring at the ceiling blankly, no thoughts crossing her mind.

        She needed the few minutes to gain some energy. It’s always so exhausting smiling and being positive, especially in such a depressing and brooding setting such as a hospital where many meet their end, even worse that its children. 

        She doesn’t regret her decision in going through with becoming a pediatrician, but it does get heartbreaking seeing young kids die. She tries her best to help them, but sometimes there’s just some things out of your control.

        She knows that when Hailey dies, she’ll be absolutely devastated. Out of all the patients she sees and talks to, she always makes sure to give Hailey the most of her attention and time. 

        Hailey was first admitted into the hospital when she was seven. After weeks of in and out tests at the hospital, MRI’s and blood withdraws, she was diagnosed with cancer. From then on, she spent her days at the hospital. Hailey’s parents were always busy, one was a lawyer and the other was a traveling diplomat. The nurses were basically babysitters for her while her parents were working.

        Her parents loved her, they loved her so much that they couldn’t bare to see her slowly deteriorate in front of their eyes, so they forced themselves away from her side and indulged in work to rid the thought of their only daughter dying. They didn’t realize how lonely or terrifying it was for Hailey, to suddenly be surrounded by white walls and white floors and white sheets. Surrounded by the stench of heavy bleach and aroma of lemons. By radiation machines and clumps of lost hair on her pillows. 

        She watched out of her window as other patients walk in and out of the hospital, their families walking by their side, supporting them during their times of need. Her visitors weren't family, but nurses and doctors entering and exiting her room, no longer bothering to smile or give her white lies of how she'll heal soon.

        (Y/N) couldn't try to understand or emphasize, she wasn't sick in a hospital bed balding. She wasn't bedridden, and she had the fortunate ability to move her legs unlike Hailey's legs, the clumping of leukemia cells in Hailey's knees making it hard to walk on some days. (Y/N)'s been Hailey's nurse for five months now, she had started nursing Hailey before she decided to change her career.

        (Y/N) was originally going to be a pediatric nurse, make sure children are sticking to their proper recovery path and taking medications that they're doctors are prescribing them, provide utmost comfortability and nurturing to them as they could, and constantly run tests on their weights, diets, and symptoms, but she changed her studies to become a pediatric hematologist-oncologist after meeting Hailey. 

        (Y/N) graduated high school a year early by taking Advanced Placement (college-level) courses and getting a head start by going to classes during school breaks and on the weekends. It was exhausting and downright infuriating at times, but she managed and graduated with her high school diploma along with a certificate in child care after completing a three-year course in high school for early childhood education; allowing her to get a part-time job after high school by working in a daycare. Then she moved out from her parents, heading to college and completing one year of adolescent medicine (originally, it was supposed to be four, but her AP classes counted for college-credit and high school credits). She finished college five months ago, and now she's learning from Doctor Ryan JTED general pediatrics while taking online hematology-oncology classes to graduate med school early. 

        She had always been an over-achiever, aiming for success to please her parents and earn what little praise she could. It had been a goal ever since she was a child, to hear such little words from them with actual meaning, not just false words spoken on auto-pilot to shoo their child away.

        Her father wanted her to be successful and rich in life, so she wouldn't have to deal with poverty in her future anymore, and her mother... well, her mother really didn't care what she did. In fact, her mother never cared at all. Her parents were always working all the time. Her father worked as an overworked and underpaid mechanic who worked 6-8, never having any time for his daughter as he worked in the day and slept at night. Her mother was also a nurse, specializing in cardiology; she slept in the day and worked at night. Even on her days off, she slept and ignored (Y/N)'s needs. 

        From two years old to five, (Y/N) was locked alone in a room with a bed, TV, and a bathroom. She was locked in a dark room for 16 hours a day, with no food and the only water source was from the sink's faucet. All she did in that room was sleep, watch cartoons on the TV, and cry; begging to be let out of the room, begging for food, begging for any sort of affection or tenderness from her mother who slept in the room next door so that (Y/N) wouldn't interrupt her sleeping. Instead, the only affection she received in her life was the embrace of her bed's sheets.

        All her time in her hands caused her to sleep so much she developed a sleeping disorder, hypersomnia; the inability to remain alert, woke, or refreshed in the daytime despite having an excessive amount of rest. That condition became chronic, even now she struggled with it, which made her excessive daytime sleepiness so much worse due to working eight hours at the hospital for her JTED classes of general pediatrics (at least she got paid for her apprenticeship, working from 8 A.M. to 5 P.M.), and studying online for hematology-oncology for at least 3 to 4 hours after work. She's eternally grateful for her med school being paid, earning a scholarship due to all her high grades in her AP classes and completing college with her adolescent medicine degree. Medicine was a part of her mother's side of the family, and (Y/N) naturally became a caretaker after learning to care for herself her whole life; touch starved from the hands of her mother and father. 

        If (Y/N) had been the patient in the hospital bed, would her mother have cared then? Would she have shown a bit of sympathy? Even just touch her arm for a few seconds to feel for a vein and inject a IV needle in? The answer was no. Her mother didn't care when (Y/N) had been rushed to the hospital in an ambulance, fainting after days of neglecting her needs of food and water in order to complete her piling school work. Her mother didn't care when (Y/N) pleaded for help at ten years old, saying she believed she had depression and needed help. 

        Instead of helping her, her mother shook it off as hormones from puberty, and even told her to stop overreacting that: "You can't be depressed. People have such worse lives than you, dying alone in hospital beds, and here you are, crying about a few hormonal mood swings." 

Her mother didn't even care when (Y/N) had tried to kill herself when she was just eleven years old. For a nurse, whose job is supposed to protect and care, she was cruel.

        Her father cared, he really did, but he just didn't have the time for her. While her mother slept and ignored her, he was at work busting his ass off to earn money and support their family. He had grown up poor, living in immense poverty, sharing a bedroom with his sister, unsure of when their next meal was. He never graduated high school, he went to the military but after a few years was rejected due to heart conditions, which led him to coming home and getting his GED so that he could go to college and become a mechanic. Money was always a problem for her family, even in a two-income household it was hard to meet living standards. A big reason she piled all that work on her and neglected her health was so she could get her schooling paid for. 

        Remember her saying from earlier? "In order to care for another, you must first learn to care for yourself." Well, she had to teach herself that the hard way. She realized she couldn't be a nurse and preach others to care for themselves if she couldn't even care for herself. So, she took on hobbies to help her mental health, forced herself to make friends and gain confidence, made an oath to stop her self-harm when she was young. This was a challenge, but it presented opportunity for growth, for success, for happiness. 

        Opportunity is everywhere, so long as you choose to believe it. You don't need to see things to know it's there, so long as you have faith. Opportunity is everywhere, lurking and waiting to jump out from the corner and get you! Even the corner of your bedroom, while you lay thinking of nothing and everything depressingly on your couch. Opportunity is stalking, waiting patiently for you to walk through your bedroom door so they could give you a big hug! Or a stab! Or multiple stabs! 

        Opportunity comes in many forms. Education, money, experience, decisions, and even people; such as Ashley Graves! Opportunities to pursue your goal of nursing, or if we use Ashley's motivation, a wonderful opportunity to stab a little nurse out of jealousy all because she just happened to get too close to her brother after he made a minor slip-up. A Grave consequence, really. 

A cliff-hanger! This is where the next chapter will take some time to come out since all the previous chapters were drafts I wrote for fun before I started writing for Tumblr.

Also, Penelope is one of my first yanderes I created myself, an OC! While she won't play a major role in this series, she'll have her own headcannons and such one day once I get around to it, maybe you'll find an interest in her yourself!

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 request!

Chapters: Chapter 1, Chapter 2, current chapter, chapter 4, chapter 5, chapter 6, chapter 7, chapter 8, chapter 9 (in the works)

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

[berrieluv]

ʚ 𖦹₊˚. remus lupin x fem!reader c.w. — andrew garfield/hunter doohan remus lupin. it's just fluff, remus is so in love i need him so bad. lowercase intended. sorry if something doesn't make sense, english is not my first language.

summary: remus did well in hiding his werewolfiness from you for years, now in your new situationship as girlfriend-boyfriend he can't stand lying and hiding things from his girl. of course you already knew, because you're curious and you tend to sneak into places you shouldn't.

ʚ 𖦹₊˚.ʚ 𖦹₊˚.ʚ 𖦹₊˚.ʚ 𖦹₊˚.ʚ 𖦹₊˚.ʚ 𖦹₊˚.

remus.

remus lupin was right. and it wasn’t like a surprising, astonishing moment. he was always right, you were just maybe hoping for him to not be when he told you, sometimes, staying away from some things would be better.

so you were there. running, tears in your eyes and your heart beating dangerously fast.

remus. remus. remus.

it was still remus, but your mind couldn’t be far from the image you just saw.

it’s not his fault. it’s not him. he told you to stay away.

but you’ve known him for years, and it never seemed as such big thing for you to indulge further but the first month into your relationship you thought it was going to change. he had no reason anymore to sneak around, why would you be with someone you don’t fully trust. why would you be with someone if you would still try to sneak with someone else.

you held your body as soon as you reached your bed, hiding under your covers and rolling uncomfortable, suddenly everything felt too much, the once soft sheets felt hard and rough.

you didn’t mean to see, you didn’t mean to know that.

when remus didn’t reach for you the whole weekend you weren’t wondering, for the first time after a full moon, where was remus lupin, and you didn’t try to reach for him either.

remus, on the other hand, reached for your soft skin next to his bed, he held sirius hand as if it was yours, thinking, hoping, for you to care enough to ignore his pleads of staying away and reaching for him.

“lils says she haven’t left the dorm… her dorm” james corrected. they all could see remus eyes’ being to fill up with sadness and disappointment. “wonders if she feels sick. haven’t talk to her or marl either”

remus prayed and hoped for his body to be well enough to chase you soon. to ask you what was wrong, to care for you like the good boyfriend he wanted to be. it wasn’t long into your relationship and he was already failing.

he wondered if you were asking yourself if he cared about you, because where was him.

and you knew you had to get out of there. to shower, to eat, to assist to classes but your bed was the safest place you could think of right now. having people around felt wrong and forcing you to talk to them hurt.

you woke up early that monday. lily followed you into the girls shared bathroom and watched you as you both slowly started your routines.

“if you want to talk…” she started, trying to find the right words. not pretending to sound intrusive “i’m here. we’re here”

you nod and said nothing, you looked at her through the mirror and smile and she does it back.

but what exactly did you wanted to talk about. it wasn’t for you to tell, and you didn’t exactly know were you were standing. were you mad at remus for not telling you or were you scared of him.

near breakfast hour you walked there alone. a bit late, the time consumed by the thoughts if you should actually go. remus ran to you the moment he saw you and you froze in your place.

what if he wanted to touch you, what if he wanted to kiss you, what if he wanted to hug you.

you couldn’t even bring yourself to talk. social confrontation seeming hard.

“morning, luv” he smiled at you and you tried to do so but it seemed broken “are you alright?” are we alright?

“yes…” you managed, sounding exhausted, your voice came out like all the air was being taken away from your body. “long time no see?”

he chuckles with a sad smile. three days. that’s the most he has spent without his girl. not without you, but now, as his girlfriend, it felt different.

“missed you” he said. sad, not because it was a lie, or because he thought you didn’t miss him. but because he wanted to be honest with you in every aspect of his life. “so, so, much. haven’t spent this much time far from you”

“yes, you have” you quickly point out. referring to the days you weren't a couple, when he would take longer to come back to you. ashamed of his new scars, scared of the fact that he saw himself as a monster and terrified you could start to see it. "this is not near the longest we have been apart at the end of a month"

remus smiles sadly at you, and when he tries to step forward and kiss you, you really, really, don't mean to take a step back but you do it anyways and he frowns, looking at you with open arms.

"wha-what's wrong?"

"nothing" you look around, everyone's eyes felt focused in the two of you, but an honest look would tell you that... no one cared.

you felt so trapped inside this problem, it felt like the biggest thing in the world but you were the only one feeling the same.

"sorry, sorry, rem. i'm just. i feel... it's too much" he frowns "i don't, please don't touch me. not now."

"sure, darling"

that's the saddest you've ever hear him. even in his first years, when he was just getting used to that. he would never sound that devastated while he was with you.

"you want to have some, some breakfast or is it too much too?"

you knew he was hurt, and maybe he didn't mean to sound so harsh or sarcastic or mean, and you had no right to feel hurt when you were the one hurting him.

"breakfast sounds good" you say and start walking, knowing he was behind you. and knowing exactly that, you choose to sit between marlene and some griffindor next to her, leaving no sit for remus, who watched you hurt.

lily looked at him and shrugged, you avoided her gaze and felt marlene arm in your shoulders.

"i guess i deserve it" remus said, sitting back in his place next to sirius, in front of peter. "i ghosted for three days. my girlfriend, my girl, and i just ignored her. for three whole days. a whole weekend. and lily said she was in bed. she was feeling unwell and i was just feeling pity for myself"

"no, moony" peter started. "don't do that to yourself. s'not your fault"

"yes, no, but. even if it wasn't, she has no way of knowing. she has no, she doesn't know"

"doesn't make it your fault" james interferes.

"i should've come up with an excuse at least" he still tries "not leave her like that, guys i'm..." remus hides his face in his hands and starts to murmur "i'm in a relationship now. a serious relationship. with the girl of my dreams. the girl i've been in love since i was fourteen years old, guys" he takes his hands off his face and emphasizes "fourteen years old. i have her now, i have her now and i love her. i love us"

"moony..." sirius is stopped by remus.

"it is my fault, right?" remus looks at his friends "it is my fault for thinking i deserved better. for thinking i deserved to be happy"

"you do deserve happiness, remus" peter says again "because you are a really wonderful person. you just have to learn to deal better with some things. and maybe be more honest with your girl" remus chuckles at how that sounds. it was the first time someone said it out loud. someone who wasn't him. "you will do good. you both. you're meant to be"

"thanks, petey" remus says, standing from the table when everyone else did, breakfast time over. "i have to talk to my girl" he smiled and as soon as he did, the rest of the marauders did too.

remus really thought this would be easier. but here he was, in front of you. marlene and lily were kind enough to wait in the common room so the both of you could talk.

usually, everything happens in his room. it's a safer place for him, he saw your things around, the mess in marlene's side, the tidiness on lily's and the mix of both in yours. he thought he would feel like an intruder but he felt calm. he could smell your essence and the things you liked make him feel somehow home.

"remus..." you start again. "what is it?"

remus opened his mouth and closed it again. not knowing how to start.

"i love you"

"what?"

"i love you" he repeated again "i love you so much and i know you're mad at me. i know you want me far right now but i love you, so, so much, and it's killing me to know i made you feel unhappy"

"what?"

"darling, i love you. you want me to repeat it again? i will. i swear. i'll tell you i love you every second of the day but please, please, don't be mad at me. don't, don't flinch when i try to get close to you. don't be scared of me"

"i'm not" you finally say "i'm not scared of you. i'm not mad at you, remus, i just need... time"

"time?" he asks, not wanting to believe you, because you wanted to be far from him and he wanted nothing more than to be with you as much as he could before the next full moon. "you want to be away from me?"

"remus..."

"no. no, i get it. i get it, i'm too much. i'm too much and yet i'm not good enough"

"i do love you too, remus" you say but he shook his head. because how could you say that when you wanted time away from him. "no?"

"don't be mean, darling. don't do that to me. don't say you love me if you don't want me near you"

"i just, i just don't know how to deal with the fact that you're lying to me!" he frowns "i just don't know how to treat you now knowing you're a, knowing you obviously don't want me to know that you're a werewolf".

"you know?" he's in shook. "darling, i..."

"i'm sorry, remmy" you start, tears meeting your eyes but you feel like you're not allowed to cry "i know you don't want me to know but i couldn't help it"

"what do you mean you don't know how to treat me?"

"i mean i, i could just, i could act as i always do around you but, now that i know, around the full moons, would you, is it alright if i take care of you? do you want me to?"

remus feels himself start to breathe again. because he truly thought the worst, and you just wanted to be near him, not in his best times but in his worst ways too.

"i... i thought you wanted to break up with me. i thought you saw me as a monster"

you start to shake your head "no, no remmy, not a monster. never. you're my remmy. i do, i did got scared thought"

"of me?"

"of you... being a werewolf. when i saw you, back then, and you were full wolf and you... i'm sorry, rem, but you looked hideous"

he chuckled "you want me for my looks, darling?"

"kind of..." you joke, walking closer to him, hugging his torso and hiding your face in his chest.

"meanie"

"sorry, remmy. but i have a reputation to keep on, you know"

"i know. you are the prettiest girl at hogwarts. you deserve nothing but the prettiest boy"

"lucky me i have him, right? well, except once a month but if you want the beauty you'll have to deal with the beast, right?"

"you have the best of both worlds" he says, kissing your hair "you're the best of my world. you're my life"

he thought it was something lame to say in just a month into the relationship. but he spent so much time in love with you, he waited for years to have this, he would not waste any more seconds without saying this.

"wouldn't it be cool if i turn into an animagus and i'm like, a wolf too?"

"the coolest, darling"

[hauntedhowlett-writes]

𝐠𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐞𝐭𝐬

pairing: dieter bravo x ghost hunter!female reader word count: 4.9k rating: explicit (18+ MDNI)

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲

The producers of your hit ghost hunting show, Spirit Seekers, have picked your next celebrity guest. Dieter Bravo. You’re not looking forward to being locked in a reportedly haunted mansion with one of Hollywood’s biggest divas.

𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

the first of my october spooky specials is here! ghost image in title art is from TO LIFE, TO DEATH by Jean-Marie GITARD. if you enjoy this fic, please consider reblogging or leaving a comment and thank you for reading!

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬

explicit sexual content (18+ minors do not interact), drug use - weed, smoking, dub con - sex following drug use, vaginal fingering, handjob, dry humping, getting locked in a haunted house together, misunderstandings. let me know if any tags are missing!

It’s not often you get called into an actual meeting with your producers. You’re on the road a lot filming for your hit ghost hunting show, Spirit Seekers, so they usually spare you from attendance and send you an itemized e-mail recap.

Not today, though. Today, all five producers were CC’d on the e-mail that requested a meeting to go over your next episode, which is set to start filming in two days. You tap your fingers against the shiny wood conference table, staring out at the Los Angeles cityscape through the panoramic windows as you wait for the suits to join you.

They all arrive at once, three men filing through the doorway with veneered smiles and abnormally smooth foreheads. They shake your hand one by one before taking their seats.

It’s Alec, a paunchy man with grey hair and round glasses, that speaks first, starting with a mumble of your name followed with, “I’ll cut to the chase. We’ve got a celebrity guest for the McCallister mansion episode that you’ll need to work into your production this week.”

“This is pretty late notice,” you reply, mind already running through what you’ll need to do to adjust for the format of a guest special. “Who is it?”

The three men exchange wary glances and you sit up straighter, bracing yourself for the response.

“Dieter Bravo,” Alec finally says, smoothing his tie with his hand.

“You’re shitting me.” If there’s one person you can’t stand, it’s Dieter fucking Bravo. “Is this how I find out Ashton is filming Punk’d again?”

The joke doesn’t land. Alec clears his throat before saying, “This isn’t a joke. And it’s an excellent opportunity to—”

“To what? Pander my show to a diva who’s just going to make my job difficult?”

“He has a very strong fan base that could bring in a large number of new viewers. Your show is popular, but only to a limited demographic,” Alec says. “We’re doing this for you. Spirit Seekers has a lot of potential but if you’re going to remain at the top and have a chance for another Emmy nomination, maybe even an award, you need to be willing to work with the guests that will bring in views.”

You sigh heavily. “I hate that you’re right.”

“I know. But I always am.” He slides a folder across the table to you. “Here are his requirements.”

“Requirements? He does know this isn’t a blockbuster production set, right?”

“This is the modified list,” the man to Alec’s right, Stephen, says. “Trust me, this is significantly better than it once was.”

You open the folder, scanning the document. “Alkaline water, glass bottle. Absolutely no plastic,” you read. “Organic, non-GMO, dye free, gluten free crackers. Did he just pick every Whole Foods buzzword and stick them together?”

“We will make this as easy for you as we can. We just need you to focus on the episode. Okay?”

“Fine,” you mumble, shutting the folder. “He breaks any of my equipment, I’m billing you.”

“Deal.”

Two days later you’re sitting in your makeshift command center with your crew mates, Andrew and Mike, making sure that all the monitors are displaying the feeds from the static cameras set up inside the mansion. You’ve already filmed solo interview segments with the owner, an elderly man who inherited the house over thirty years ago but left it untouched because of what he believes is a ghostly presence.

The sun is low behind the gorgeous Queen Anne Victorian home, orange sky haloing the steep roofed mansion. The historic building sits on six acres of land surrounded by a wrought iron fence that the owner, Paul, had to unlock for you to set up for the night filming session you would be doing this evening. He stands behind you now with his arms crossed over his chest as he watches you connect your equipment.

“So you’ll be in there all night?” He asks, voice wary.

“Most of it. We’ll get three hours of footage with Andrew following us through the house and then a few more hours of single camera action, coupled with the static night vision feeds that will roll all night. We’ll be inside until 3 a.m. and then work out here for a bit before packing up,” you reply. “Thank you so much for letting us come in and do an investigation.”

“I’ve got a bet going with a buddy of mine,” Paul says, puffing his chest out. “If you find something, he owes me a hundred bucks.”

You laugh. “I can’t guarantee anything. My goal isn’t to make a ghost where there isn’t one.”

“I know, I know. But I’m telling you, this place has always been weird.” He glances up at the house, his frame shivering despite the California warmth. “Doors always opening and shutting on their own, footsteps, voices. Whole nine yards. S’why I never moved in.”

You knew all of this, of course. You’d done a walk through of the property with one of your camera guys, letting Paul tell you his first hand experiences in the old house. You’re about to reply when the sound of a car barreling up the gravel driveway pulls your attention away from the conversation.

A black Escalade approaches, coming to a stop in a cloud of dirt that makes you cough. Paul pats your back as the back door opens and designer boots drop onto the gravel.

Dieter Bravo stands with one hand gripping the door of the car while he uses his other hand to tilt his sunglasses down his nose to squint at you. He’s wearing black joggers and a faded gray t-shirt with a hole near the collar, his hair a fluffy mess of dark curls.

“Hey,” you say in greeting. You hold a hand out and give him your name, forcing a smile on your face. “Welcome to the command center.”

“Command center? This some kind of secret army operation or something?” He asks, shutting the door and walking past you, leaving you with your hand out stretched for an unreciprocated handshake.

“Michael keeps an eye on the static cameras in case one needs to be fixed,” you explain, gesturing to the man sat in front of the wall of screens with a headset on. “Now that you’re here only,” — you check your watch — “an hour late, we can get started. Andrew, could you get him mic’d?”

Andrew approaches with a wireless microphone and the actor steps back and holds his hands up. “Hold up, I gotta make sure you got everything.”

“Got everything?” You ask.

“Yeah. My snacks and water?” He looks around expectantly.

You pinch the bridge of your nose. “Yes, they got your snacks. They’re in the cooler. Can you please let Andrew get your mic on? We have to start the guest filming before the light is gone.”

Andrew approaches Dieter again, who lets him get close enough to hook the mic to the waist of his pants. Dieter smirks as he says, “You could at least buy me dinner first.”

You groan, grabbing your own mic. “Let’s get started.”

“The mansion itself was built in the late 1800s and has only been home to two families since it was finished. It’s been in Paul’s possession for thirty years,” you say, walking backwards towards the house as the camera man follows. Dieter stands off to the side of the wraparound porch, waiting for his cue. “And tonight, we’ve got the exclusive opportunity to explore this gorgeous home with a special guest. Tonight’s Spirit Seeker is none other than Emmy Award winning actor, Dieter Bravo!”

Dieter steps into frame and gives a smile to the camera, clapping his hands together. “Let’s catch some ghosts!”

“Now, Dieter, we’re not the Ghostbusters,” you say, your voice deadpan. Dieter raises his eyebrows at you.

“That’s the best you’ve got?” He asks. Your brows pinch together.

“Excuse me?”

“‘We’re not the Ghostbusters’? Really?” He waves his hands to the camera. “Come on, sweetheart, give it a little more energy.”

Your teeth are clenched so hard your jaw aches. “I had energy over an hour ago. You know, when you were supposed to get here?” You pinch the bridge of your nose. “Can we just get inside?”

He holds an arm out, gesturing for you to enter in front of him. Having toured the mansion already, you signal to Andrew to focus the camera on your guest for his reaction.

Dieter looks around the foyer, grand staircase and marble floors the centerpieces of the large space. “It’s a damn shame they don’t make them like this anymore. Look at the carvings! This has gotta be all original, right?”

“Yep. They’ve only upgraded the internal stuff, like plumbing and electrical,” you confirm. “The owner, Paul, inherited the house after his grandfather passed thirty years ago. He used to spend his summers here when he was a child and vividly remembers experiencing some…unexplained events that have left an impression on him.” You approach a table that’s been set up with your usually line up of equipment. “Tonight, we’re going to see if we can find an explanation for the inexplicable.”

“That’s so cheesy,” Dieter laughs. “You’ve got the cutest serious face, though.”

He thinks I’m cute? Your treacherous brain says, your face heating in response to the compliment. You quickly look at your equipment.

“Anyways,” you say, clearing your throat. “Let’s go through the equipment.”

You start with the basics. A digital recorder for capturing electronic voice phenomenon, night vision cameras, and dowsing rods. Further down the table you have thermal cameras, electromagnetic field meters, REM pods, and spirit boxes. Dieter listens attentively, to your surprise, and even asks a thoughtful question about the spirit boxes.

“How about we divvy up the gear? I can take the recorder and thermal camera, you can take the EMF reader—“

“No can do,” he interrupts, holding his hands up. “I don’t fuck with EMF.”

You blink. “What do you mean?”

“That shit is toxic. It’ll warp your DNA.”

“Dieter,” you say incredulously, “The entire planet is comprised of EMF.”

“No, that’s the geomagnetic field,” he argues.

“It’s the same thing!” You take a deep breath. “You know what? I’ll take the EMF detector. You can have the thermal camera,” you compromise, shoving the camera into his hands. You hastily gather the rest of the devices.

“Alright. Let’s do this.”

It’s the last hour of the main filming session where Andrew films you and Dieter using the equipment. So far, there haven’t been many notable experiences. You’ve captured a few creaking floorboards and the EMF meter has gone off a few times, but nothing that you can undoubtedly point to as proof of the paranormal, which is par for the course. What people don’t realize when watching your heavily edited show is that you cut out hours of silence and empty footage.

“Alright, Andrew, you’re welcome to head out. We’ll do a bit more upstairs,” you tell the camera man. “Thanks for you help.”

“‘Night, boss,” he replies with a little salute. Dieter watches him as he leaves.

“So, it’s just us now, huh?” He says, his eyebrows raised suggestively. “All alone in a haunted house…pretty hot.”

“Oh, please,” you say nervously, fiddling with your thermal camera, “We haven’t gotten any evidence that this place is haunted.”

“Maybe the ghosts are just shy,” he suggests.

You grab the REM pod and turn on the device, the LED lights flashing. “Let’s do a REM pod session. Here, hold the camera.”

Dieter holds the expensive equipment delicately, staring at the night vision screen to keep you in frame. “Not often I get put behind the camera,” he comments.

You spend the next twenty minutes asking a series of questions in the quiet room, your digital recorder running in your hand. Dieter remains focused on the screen.

“Why don’t you playback the recording?” He suggests. You glance at him, his face illuminated in the dark by the lights of the camera and the faint moonlight that filters through a window.

“Good idea,” you admit, hitting the stop button and running the tape back. There’s some static feedback before your voice announces the date and time of the recording.

“Is there anyone here with us?” Your recorded voice asks. There’s a beat of silence and you fully expect your voice to be the next thing you hear but instead there’s a garbled, “Yes.”

“Holy shit!” Dieter shouts. “That was a fucking ghost!”

“Shhh!” You hiss, flapping your hand at him. You play it back and sure enough, the same disembodied voice echoes through the room, clear as day. “Holy shit!”

“Play the rest, play the rest,” Dieter demands. He steps closer with the camera trained on the recorder.

Together, you listen to the rest of the recording. There’s another moment where you think you might have gotten a response, but it’s not as clear as the first one. You play it back again and again, and finally Dieter takes the recorder from you.

“Alright, enough, if I hear you ask, ‘Do you mean any harm?’, one more time, I’m going to have to tattoo it across my ass,” he says with a laugh. “Actually, that would be kind of cool, right? Very…provocative.”

“Oh my god.” You can’t help but laugh and the man’s face lights up with a cute smile, the corners of his brown eyes creasing with the force of it. “Let’s go check out the study.”

“How does this one work?” Dieter asks as you turn on the spirit box, the staticky feedback noise filling the room.

“It sweeps through different radio stations rapidly and, theoretically, a paranormal entity can manipulate it and use it to speak. Just ask question.” You fix the camera on him. “Ready when you are.”

“So…do any of the ghosts think I’m hot?” He asks, glancing around the room. You bite your lip to hold in your laugh as the static continues. “Tough crowd.”

You roll your eyes. “Be serious.”

“Okay, okay, fine. Uh…did anything like…bad….happen to you?” No response. “Do you…like having guests?”

“No.”

Dieter jumps, eyes wide as he looks at the spirit box. “No fucking way,” he says excitedly. “Okay, uh, why don’t you want guests?”

“Loud.”

“Oh my god,” you murmur. “Keep going!”

“Do you want to hurt us?” Dieter asks. The device is silent, no responses coming through. His shoulders drop in disappointment. “Damn. Some confirmation that we’re dealing with Casper and not that fucking thing from Insidious would have been nice.”

“Try one more question? I’m going to get the thermal cam,” you tell him, rushing to the desk in the center of the room for your equipment. You hastily power it on and point both cameras at him. “Ok, go.”

“You’re supposed to say action,” Dieter says, making you roll your eyes. “But I’ll let it slide. Hmm…ghost, is there a room we should explore next?”

It’s silent for a beat, and you think maybe the session may be over, but suddenly the device spits out the word, “Attic.”

Dieter stares at you with wide eyes. “Guess we’ve gotta go higher.”

“Let’s do it.”

You open the door to the attic, revealing a dark, narrow staircase that looks particularly haunting. The man stands at your back, looking up into the inky black darkness. He audibly swallows.

“Uh…how about you go first? You’re the professional,” he suggests.

“You scared?” You tease, taking a tentative step forward. “It’s just a little attic.”

“In a very haunted house!” He hisses. “What if it’s luring us here to kill us?”

“Then you would have had to film for this ‘stupid show’ with nothing to show for it. Tragic,” you reply sarcastically, placing quotes around the words stupid show.

Because that’s what you’ve heard him call it. Your show was up for a Primetime Emmy award last year for your Halloween special and it was your first time attending an award show. Dieter was there to present an award and was seated only a few seats down from you, talking to another actor you vaguely recognized, when you overheard his feelings for your show.

“I can’t believe they put such a stupid show in this category,” he said, loudly. “It doesn’t even belong here.”

“What are you talking about?” Dieter asks as you reach the open attic. There’s a circular window that looks out over the grounds, caked with dust and only allowing a tiny amount of light into the room. You turn to face him.

“At the Emmy Awards last year. I was sitting two seats down from you and you said — and I quote — ‘I can’t believe they put such a stupid show in this category’,” you snap.

He stares at you incredulously. “Are you kidding me? I love your show. I’ve been begging my agent to get me on as a guest since your first episode!”

“Yeah, okay,” you reply sarcastically.

“It’s true! Just ask him!” He steps closer, eyes wide and pleading, looking like a puppy who’s just been reprimanded. “I was talking about that stupid potato documentary. It was boring as hell and had no reason being nominated!”

“Wait…so...you like my show?”

“I love your show. It’s, like, the closest thing to being in an episode of Scooby-Doo.”

You laugh and Dieter’s face brightens, like he knows he’s in the clear. Suddenly, the sound of a door slamming has you both screaming and Dieter launches forward, his arms wrapping around your shoulders as he leaps into the air.

It catches you by surprise, all of his weight leaning into you and sending you crashing to the floor in a tangle of limbs and an echo of groans.

“What the fuck was that?!” You ask. “Dieter, get off, I can’t breathe!”

“Sorry, sorry,” he says, rolling off of you with a thump and another pained noise. “You were supposed to catch me.”

“Catch you?” You wheeze, flat on your back.

“Yeah, like in the shows. Scooby always caught Shaggy.”

“Why am I Scooby?!”

“I don’t know,” he shouts. “Listen, let me go check what that was.”

“You’re not leaving me up here,” you hiss. “We go together.”

The two of you make it to the bottom of the stairs, only to discover that the door to the attic has slammed shut. Not only that, but the damn thing won’t open. Dieter slams his shoulder into it as he twists the knob, cursing up a storm as he tries to shove it open with no luck.

“Remember what I said about the ghosts trying to murder us?” He asks.

“Don’t worry, I’ve got a radio. I’ll tell Michael he needs to come try to open the door.” You tug the radio free from the waist of your jeans, pressing the button and asking, “Mike? You there?”

Silence fills the room. You try again.

“Mike?”

More silence.

“Fucking Mike,” Dieter grumbles. He heads back upstairs to the attic and you trail after him. He makes a beeline for the small window, feeling around the edges of it. “Maybe we can get the window open and call out to him.”

“Good idea,” you tell him, coming up beside him and pulling a flashlight from your back pocket, shining the light on the windowsill to help him find the latch.

There’s a rusted crank that he starts turning, the hinges squeaking loudly enough to make you wince. The window opens the slightest bit, fresh air flowing into the stale room.

“Can you get it open a little more?” You ask. With a grunt, he forces the crank around, his biceps stretching the sleeves of his shirt.

Not that you’re watching his biceps. Or the muscles of his back as he moves. Definitely not.

“That’s as far as it’ll go,” he says. “See if you can see your little tent down there.”

“Command center,” you grumble, doing as suggested. You can can’t see much except a corner of the white tent fabric, but you call out anyways, “Michael! Mike! Hey!”

There’s no movement from below, no responding shout. You call out for him again and again, but it’s no use. He’s clearly not answering.

“I don’t have my phone during investigations. Do you have yours?” You ask. Dieter pulls his phone from his front pocket.

“Fuck, it’s dead,” he groans, tapping the black screen. You sigh.

“What are we supposed to do now?” You check your watch and find it’s 1:30 a.m. You have no idea where the fuck Mike went, but hopefully he’ll be back by 3 a.m. for debrief and a very stern lecture about abandoning his post. Dieter grins at you.

“Wanna get high?”

“The episode you did at the asylum in Kentucky is my favorite. It’s so fucking scary. The gurney moving? The shadows? Fuck, I was hiding in a blanket the whole time,” Dieter says.

You’re sitting beside each other with your legs out in front of you, your backs leaning against the wall beneath the small window. You’re pleasantly buzzed, your head a little fuzzy and your limbs loose from the joint you’ve passed back and forth for the last half hour and you’ve been talking about your favorite episodes, yours to film and his to watch, the conversation flowing surprisingly well.

“You know, maybe I was wrong about you,” you say when there’s a lull in conversation. Dieter looks at you, his eyebrows raised. “Yeah, I just…I don’t know. I thought you were this high maintenance asshole, I guess. But you’re kinda cool.”

Dieter laughs. “Oh, baby, I’m definitely high maintenance. You weren’t wrong about that.”

Something about Dieter calling you baby makes you feel warm and gooey. You’d like to blame it on the weed but if you’re honest with yourself for once, it’s because of him. You tried not to like him, you really did, but he’s funny and nice and doesn’t think your whole ghost hunting gig is a waste of time like a lot of men you’ve dealt with in the past. Not to mention he’s so hot, with his messy hair and pretty brown eyes and warm tan skin. Sure, he’s a pain in the ass, but you’re realizing now that it’s actually part of his charm.

You must be quiet for too long or fidget too much because he’s smirking at you now, plush lips tilted up mischievously. “You liked that, huh?” He asks.

“Liked what?” You whisper. He’s scooches closer, his thigh pressing against yours and your shoulders brushing.

“Me calling you baaaaby,” he says, drawing out the word teasingly. “You got all quiet about it.”

“N-no I didn’t.”

“Riiiight,” he teases. He twists his body, reaching an arm across to grip your thigh. “C’mere.”

You go willingly, maneuvering your clumsy limbs until your legs are spread over his lap. He looks up at you with glassy eyes and a syrupy smile, sliding his hands into the back pockets of your jeans.

“You wanna try that again, baby?” He buries his face against your chest and you laugh, squirming in his grip. “Come on, be honest with me.”

“Maybe…maybe I kinda like it,” you mumble. His hands drift up your waist.

“Like what?”

“When you call me baby.”

He presses a kiss to your collarbone, the touch electrifying. “See? That wasn’t so hard.”

“You’re so annoying,” you huff, trying to pull away from him. He holds you tightly.

“Nooooo,” Dieter whines, peppering kisses along all the skin exposed by your tank top that he can reach.”’M sorry, I’ll be good for you, baby.”

Your eyes flutter as you sink into his hold. His light kisses turn into teasing nips of his teeth that make you gasp and grind yourself over his lap. You can feel him growing hard beneath you, the length of his cock pressing deliciously against the seam of your jeans to give you the friction you’re craving.

Dieter’s hand wraps around the back of your neck, pulling you forward to press his lips to yours. It’s awkward at first, just a lingering peck, but then he licks at your bottom lip and you open up for him, his tongue hot against yours as you explore each other. Your mouths are a little dry from the weed but the kiss quickly grows hot and wet, a little desperate and messy as you move together.

“Fuck,” Dieter groans when he pulls back for a breath. “Keep moving, just like that.”

You have a better idea, though. You move down a little bit until you can get your hands on the fly of his pants, popping the button and pulling the zipper. He helps you out a bit, lifting his hips to shove his pants down just enough for you to reach into his boxers and wrap a hand around his thick cock. His eyes are dark and his mouth goes slack as you slowly bring your fist up, palming the slick head and smearing the bead of precum around the sensitive tip.

You withdraw your hand, bringing it to your face to lick your palm, getting it nice and wet as you keep your gaze fixed on him. He’s breathing hard, chest heaving with the effort and he gasps when you take him back in your hand.

“Fuck, feels so fucking good,” he groans, tipping his head back against the wall with a thump. “Tighter, baby, squeeze it tighter. Fuck, that’s a good girl.”

His words have your clit aching with need and you reach down with your other hand to unbutton your jeans, trying to keeping your motions coordinated as you do. Dieter looks up and notices what you’re trying to do.

“You need a lil something, baby?” He asks. When you nod, his hand smacks yours away, successfully undoing the button and zipper. “Don’t worry, I’ve got you.”

His hand slides beneath your jeans and panties, thick fingers quickly zeroing in on your needy clit with tight circles that have your hand stilling around his cock as you moan. His other wraps around yours, encouraging your movements as he plays with your pussy.

“You’re so fucking wet,” he groans, fingers dipping lower until they’re pressing against your slick entrance. “Keep moving your hand, baby.”

You hadn’t even noticed that you stopped, too focused on how good his touch felt. “‘M sorry,” you mumble.

“Don’t be sorry,” Dieter murmurs, one finger pressing slowly inside of you. “Fuck, you’re tight.”

You try to focus on his cock, sliding your tight fist over his length, twisting your wrist around the flushed head, smearing the wetness at the tip around with your thumb. He pumps one finger, then two inside of you in a matching rhythm, the heel of his hand brushing your clit and making you moan.

“Oh my god,” you whisper, rocking your hips the slightest bit. “I’m gonna cum.”

“Do it, baby, I’m right there with you,” Dieter replies, his own hips chasing your hand. “Come on, come on, all over my hand, baby.”

The wave of pleasure crashes over you, your muscles tightening before releasing all at once as you cum, clenching around his fingers and moaning his name. Warmth spreads over your hand and when you finally open your eyes you see that Dieter has cum as well.

“Uh,” you say awkwardly, “What…what do I do?”

“Huh?” Dieter mumbles, withdrawing his hand from your jeans.

“With the” — you nod towards your cum covered hand — “mess?”

“Oh, right. Uh…just kinda…wipe it into my boxers?” He says. You do as he suggests, wiping the sticky mess into the fabric. “I’ll just deal with it later.”

“Boss? You there?” Mike’s voice calls out over the radio, which sits discarded to the side. You scramble off of Dieter’s lap to grab the device.

“Mike! We’ve been locked in the attic for over an hour!” You hiss. “Come get us right now and maybe I’ll let you keep your job.”

Mike responds that he’ll be right up and you fix your pants, hooking the radio back onto your jeans. Dieter stands, pulling his pants up and gathering some of the equipment. You stand together, waiting for Mike in what you would consider an awkward silence until Dieter bumps your shoulder with his.

“We should do that again sometime,” he says. “Maybe without the audience.”

“Audience?” You ask.

He leans in close, lips brushing your ear and making your shiver as he whispers, “The ghosts.” You shove him away, both of you dissolving into giggles. His face grows serious once more. “No, really. You wanna like…get breakfast or something? I know this good farm-to-table place that opens super early.” You smile at him.

“I’d like that.”

Dieter sits on the couch, a blanket wrapped around his shoulders and a box of gluten free crackers in his lap. “Hurry up! It’s starting!”

“Your fancy microwave burned my popcorn,” you whine as you rush back into the living room. Dieter sneaks a hand into your bowl, shoving popcorn hastily into his mouth. “Hey!”

“Boyfriend tax,” he explains. “Now, hush, or I won’t invite you over to watch anymore.”

“It’s my show!”

The opening theme music starts, some eerie instrumental that plays over a montage of scenes from earlier episodes. As the music fades, shots of the house and your recorded voiceover explain the location for the episode right before it cuts to you and Dieter.

“…And this, is Spirit Seekers,” you and Dieter say along with your recorded self, matching grins on your faces.

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[agaypanic]

Every Night (Spider-Man!Chase Davenport X Reader)

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Summary: Chase Davenport is a Mission Creek High student who takes pictures by day, and a bionic web-slinging superhero who fights crime by night. Tonight, he swings by your place with a split lip, a bruised rib, and a wounded ego.

A/N: holy shit an actual fic instead of a shitpost, who would’ve guessed? spiderman au where chase is spiderman bc 📖anon and i agreed that chase davenport is totally peter parker coded (specifically andrew garfield’s). side note: if this was a full avengers au, chase would be spiderman, davenport would be iron man, adam would probably be thor, bree would be black widow, and leo would probably be captain america or the hulk (it’d be funny to see him go from this little stick figure to a giant beefy mutant man). This is most likely not medically accurate

***

“Hold that,” Chase muttered just loud enough for you to hear, adjusting the settings on his new camera. “Stay still.”

“Chase, lunch is gonna be over soon.” You teased, but still held your position as requested.

You heard your boyfriend take a picture, and then a few more. There were a few more flickers of the camera shutter before Chase got up and rounded the picnic table to sit next to you. “What do you think?” Chase asked, showing you the couple of pictures he had just taken.

“I think you make me look really pretty.”

“Nah.” Chase shook his head before kissing your cheek. “That’s all you.”

“Big flirt.” You smiled, taking the camera out of his hands and setting it on the table to kiss him without interruption. Unfortunately, the school bell didn’t get the memo about you wanting to be undisturbed. Chase pouted when you pulled away, making you laugh. “Will I see you tonight?”

Chase stood up, grabbing his camera and your hand. “You always do, babe.”

***

Chase was right; you always did see him. But your question should have been whether he’d come through your front door as Chase Davenport or through your window as Spider-Man. The follow-up question would have been whether or not he’d be bloody and bruised.

Unfortunately, the answer to both questions were the latter options tonight.

“You’re lucky my parents aren’t home,” you said as you helped your boyfriend into your room, trying to avoid the blood-saturated parts of his suit. “Who was it this time?”

“Green Goblin.” Chase winced, plopping down on your bed while he clutched his side. You grabbed the little first aid kit that you kept under your bed ever since finding out about your boyfriend’s super identity. “I was doing my patrol when he just flew by out of nowhere. I didn’t even feel him coming.”

You could hear Chase’s disappointment in his voice as he recounted the events. The fight was difficult, as the wounds you were helping him clean up proved. 

After wiping the blood off his chin from his split lip, you scooted back a little and gestured to Chase’s chest. “Suit off.”

“At least buy me dinner first.” Chase tried to laugh but instead groaned in pain as he pressed the spider emblem on his suit that loosened the once skin-tight fabric. You helped pull the suit off enough to reveal Chase’s chest. It was bruised, sweaty, and heaving. “Hey, my eyes are up here.”

“Shut up.” You rolled your eyes from his teasing and continued tending to Chase’s wounds. “You know, sometimes I wonder why you don’t go to Mr. Davenport for this. I’m sure Davenport Industries has actual nurses, or at least better medical supplies than a homemade first aid kit.”

Chase’s hand, a little shaky from his exhaustion, cupped your cheek, making you tear your eyes away from his purpling side. “I always visit you every night. A little beating isn’t gonna stop me from that.”

You scoffed. You wouldn’t exactly call this a ‘little’ beating. “Okay, but if you get some kind of infection or lifelong medical problem, don’t blame me.”

The rest of your aid was accompanied by silence. You were focused on cleaning Chase up to the best of your abilities, while he was focused on your focus. He wished he had his camera to capture the moment, ignoring the fact that he was wounded and in pain.

“Done,” you said after a long half hour. “Now, go take a shower. You’re all sweaty and gross.”

“I didn’t hear you complain when you were staring at my glistening abs.” Chase teased as he slowly stood up, kicking his suit off so he was only in his boxers.

You playfully swatted at him. “Just go. I’ll have a movie ready when you’re done.”

“And snacks?” Chase looked over his shoulder, looking at you with a pleading look. You nodded, following him out of your room, parting so he could go to the bathroom and you to the kitchen.

“And snacks.”

[yandereocs]

Yandere Andrew, The Twins, Bonnie and Zack with a dear childhood friend, who knows them like the back of his hand and has always been in love with them and starts dating yanderes?

* What a great day for the yanderes bro. Now they don't gotta go through the trouble of kidnapping you

Yandere Andrew, Twins, Bonnie and Zack with a childhood friend who loves them

* CW: Mentions of Elijah, Bonnie using a corpse as a puppet

* Andrew-

* Even in childhood, Andrew had strong feelings for you. He wanted to be by your side at all times. He didn't want you making friends with anyone else. He wanted you to spend all your time with him. He was always worried that he was going to end up scaring you away, but that didn't happen.

* When Andrew started working for the queen, the two of you drifted apart. He was so busy, he couldn't spend as much time with you. But his feelings for you remained. But he never noticed that you felt the same way. He was terrified that one day you would have enough of his busy schedule and stop wanting to be his friend.

* He couldn't let that happen. You being his friend allows him to be near you during your most happiest and vulnerable moments. It served as a gateway to something more. He can't lose that. So, he started planning. It's technically not kidnapping if you already live in the castle, right? You'll just be moved to one of the master bedrooms is all!!

* But luckily, he didn't have to go that far. You've always had a crush on Andrew, even as a kid. He was just too deep in his obsession to notice. But today was the day. The day you would work up the courage to ask him out. That's some great timing, considering today was also the day Andrew was going to snatch you away.

* When you confess to Andrew about your feelings and how you hope to have a relationship with him, he was stunned. You...want to date him? On your own accord? He didn't have to do anything? Once it all processes, Andrew is thrilled to accept your confession.

* After this, Andrew will try to have a normal relationship with you. It's working for the most part. But you can't help but notice how angry he looks when you're talking to someone else.

* The Twins-

* They didn't expect this is happen. The Twins always had a crush on you and it was pretty obvious. They would drag you away from your other friends or demand that you talk only to them.

* They were worried that their behavior would drive you away, but you never left. You've stayed right by their side, all throughout childhood and their adult life. But they were still anxious.

* As they grew older, their possessive nature grew stronger. They knew that it was starting to get extremely overwhelming. They were afraid you were going to leave them, so they kidnapped you.

* They expected you to freak out. Scream and cry for help. Call them crazy. Say how much you hate them. Things like that. But you didn't. Instead you LAUGHED.

* You told them how they didn't need to go through all of this trouble. You've had a crush on them since childhood as well. It's why you dealt with their overbearing nature. You told them how you've always wanted to date the two of them, but you were too nervous to ask them out.

* Normally the Twins would distrust their darlings for saying this. After all, it could be a trick. But they know you. They know when you're lying and when you're being truthful. Which means you're pretty lucky. They let you go, and they officially start dating you. But now they're WAY more aggressive towards others now. But at least they're nice to you?

* Bonnie-

* Bonnie would sneak out as a kid. Elijah didn't let her explore the outside world as a kid and she was fine with that. But naturally she got curious as she got older. She would sneak out and wander around for a bit. And then she met you.

* She was absolutely terrified at first. Elijah told her that everyone in the outside world wants to kill her and sell her eyes and whatnot. She thought you were going to hurt her. But you didn't. You were so nice and kind to her. She didn't understand.

* But she latched onto you anyway. It was bad when she was a kid because Elijah obviously didn't teach her anything about boundaries, but it got even worse when Elijah died.

* Once you managed to stop her from using her brother's corpse as a puppet to try and live in a state of delusion, she cling to you. She locked you away in her home, saying that you can't leave her like her brother did.

* It was a lot. But you pulled through, for whatever reason. You told Bonnie that you would never leave her. That you love her and that you've always have. You told her that you would help take care of herself and that you would help her get better.

* Bonnie latched onto you even more after that. She's already unbearable normally, but it's way worse now. You're her significant other now!! So now you're stuck with her, forever, until the two of you die!! That's what Elijah said, at least. So you can't complain about any of this. You chose this!! You can't leave her!! EVER!! Got it?

* Zack-

* Zack was told over and over since he was a kid that his future significant other would be chosen for him. They can't just let the future Alpha date ANYONE!! His future mate has to be PERFECT.

* Which really sucks for him because he's always imagined being with you. But according to his father, you're not "perfect". What a joke. To Zack, you're perfect in every way.

* Zack doesn't really have friends. His father wanted him to speak only to those of high class. That didn't matter much to Zack. He would sneak out of his home as a kid and that's how he met you. He was worried that you would freak out and treat him differently due to his status, but you didn't. And he loved you for that.

* Over the years he became more and more obsessed until he couldn't take it anymore. He NEEDED you. He felt like his life would be devoid of all things good if you weren't there. Luckily, kidnapping someone is a lot easier when you actually know them.

* He invited you over to his place, as he often does, but when it was time to leave he blocked your way. He apologized profusely and said how he can't let you leave. How he needs you to be happy. How he promises to make YOU happy. He was extremely nervous. He didn't want to have to use force to keep you with him.

* And he didn't. You accepted his confession and you even confessed yourself. Zack is stunned for a moment. He didn't think this would happen. But once he makes sure that it isn't all some trick, he'll be overjoyed. He'll be the best boyfriend, he promises!! Even if he has to end a few lives. It's all worth it for you.

[covetyou]

homecoming

ao3 ⋆ main masterlist ⋆ series masterlist part one ⋆ part two ⋆ part three

pairing: cuck!Joel x f!reader, brief M!OC x f!reader rating: Explicit (18+ only!) warnings: cuckolding, daddy kink, protected and unprotected PIV, creampie, cum kink, pet names, ddlg vibes, questionable text message formatting word count: 3.8k summary: you follow through with plans to see Andrew for the first time

A/N: cuck!Joel was only ever going to consist of oneshots, but now this is a three part intro to cuck!Joel and Andrew.

dividers by @saradika-graphics

follow @covetedfics and turn notifications on for updates on future work

He felt like he was making some kind of illicit deal, hanging around the parking lot waiting for people to file out at the end of the day. In a way, he was.

"Hey buddy! Wait up."

It had been as simple as that to stop him. A little small talk here, a little work talk there. Never one for elegance, Joel quickly cut to the chase. "I saw you looking at my girl on Friday."

Andrew startles, nervously rattling his car keys in his hand. There was no denying it, he wasn't stupid enough to even try. He knew he'd been too obvious. And he knew a man the size of Joel could easily deck him if he wanted to.

"She... I- I'm sorry, man, she looked amazing. I promise, meant nothing by it."

Tell Joel something he didn't know. "Look, I'll keep this simple. I'm out of town next weekend, she'd like it if you kept her company."

Keys drop to the gravel below.

"What are you -" Andrew is confused. Very confused. He was ready to apologize for overstepping an obvious mark, flirting with another man's girl right in front of him, and now this?

"Think you know what I'm sayin'."

Andrew did. He'd gone home Friday night and fisted his cock to thoughts of that silky dress wrapped around your body, your nipples so obvious beneath the fabric, dreaming that they were hard for him instead of Joel, his boss. He should not have been fantasizing about his boss's girl at all, but there was no stopping it.

"Don't have to be nothin', but," Joel shrugs, "If you both want it to be somethin'... I ain't got a problem with it."

It had been simple as that. Joel had handed over your phone number, telling him to get in touch, and it had all gone from there.

You were nervous.

Outwardly you probably looked the same as you always did, legs curled under, eyes focused on the TV ahead, occasionally checking your phone. No. The only outward sign that anything was different were the occasional deep breaths you had to take - deep sighs to stave off the hammering in your heart that little bit longer.

You didn't know how to do any of this. It had been a long time since you properly dated - Could this even be called a date? - and whilst there was no pressure and minimal expectation, you still felt the familiar bubble of nerves in your belly.

You'd texted back and forth from the day Joel gave him your number. You had one anxious phonecall to talk it out, a call that became both easier and harder the longer it went on. When it was over, Joel made you come on his fingers, before sliding the tip of his cock into your mouth for you to quickly swallow down his come. It seemed Joel was coming quicker and quicker lately, and you can't say you blamed him.

There was a knock at the door just as you took your next deep, calming, breath, and you choked on it as it was halfway down, making you cough and splutter for a second as you gasped in air.

Opening the door, it was clear to see he was as nervous as you.

It had felt awkward at first, and you briefly thought about running to the bathroom and calling Joel. Then you'd caught him looking at you, raking his eyes down your body, making him blush when his eyes caught yours, sparkling with laughter. He smiled at you sheepishly, and you openly dragged your own eyes across his body in return, his legs spread and arm thrown back on the couch, and that was the tension broken.

You both spent a long hour on the sofa of Joel's living room, ignoring the TV as you talked, working your way closer and closer to him, short touches getting longer and longer until his hand was resting on your knee. You'd made the first move, shutting him up with a kiss as he talked animatedly about a movie he'd watched with his nephew. It hadn't taken long for your clothes to be discarded around the living room and for you to be dragging Andrew up the stairs to Joel's bedroom. 

He hesitated for a moment, asking if this was really okay, if you really wanted it, if Joel really wouldn't mind, before succumbing to his own desires and falling into bed with you. You had forgotten what it was like to get to know a new body, and to have unfamiliar hands on yours.

Still, it felt good, and fumbling hands quickly brought you to your first release of the night.

His tongue, and a quick look downward to the foreign face between your legs, had brought you to your second.

You tried to hold back your disappointment when he covered his cock with a condom. You understood, as much as you disliked it, and you didn't try to convince him otherwise.

Your third had been around his cock as it pumped in and out of you, the curve dragging across your walls in a way Joel's didn't.

You couldn't take a fourth, and he was coming into the condom inside you with your nails raking down his back just as it all started becoming too much. 

He had held you afterward, talking and laughing into your mouth as you let your hands wander over one another until the early hours of the morning.

You couldn't wait for Joel to get home.

His truck is pulling into the driveway, replacing where Andrew's had been the night before. You run to the door, throwing yourself at him as soon as it clicks open to reveal his beautiful face. 

You kiss him all over - his plush lips, the curve of his nose, the crinkles by his eyes as he laughs at you and tells you to calm down.

“Someone missed me,” he says, thinking how lucky he is to come home to you. You didn't live here, not yet, but he loved how you'd worn down his torn edges and leaked into every part of his life, slotting into the gaps he'd left for you to inhabit.

“Always,” you mumble, still dotting kisses all over him. He finally finds your mouth again, calming you with a deep kiss and sturdy hands, pressing you up against his warm body. He tastes like coffee, even this late in the day, and the bitter familiarity of it stirs something in your belly.

When he pulls back, he's searching your face, looking for any trace of worry, any upset that he may have to deal with. Finding nothing but unbridled joy, he smiles softly, throwing his keys onto the table by the door, the other still kept firmly wrapped around you.

“You have a good night without me?”

A laugh tumbles out of you. You're glad he asked so soon, having been eager to tell him all about it since the moment Andrew left. Still, you can't help but grin at the memory of Andrew and your evening wrapped up in Joel's sheets with him.

“I did.”

“S’good,” he says, knowing that the smiling tearing across your face is for more than just him. He's curious, painfully so, at what another man could've been doing with you to make you so happy. He wishes he could've been there to see it first hand.

“He make you come?” he asks, pulling you along to the couch with you still folded into his arms. You nod, the grin already hurting your cheeks, glad to let Joel know of the fun you had.

“S’good baby, so good.”

He kisses you again before he sits down, pulling you on top of him to straddle his thighs. His hands are roaming all over you, tracing the same trails over you that Andrew's had. The stroke of his fingers drag goosebumps across your flesh as he scrapes them down your hips to rest heavily on your legs.

Pushing his hands firmer into your thighs, you make him hold you tighter, relishing the feeling of his hands being back on you. Andrew had been hesitant to hold you at first, tentative to mark you or grip you too tight. Joel's hands were sure and steady, they knew you in ways that Andrew's were only just starting to know. The new and the old, you were excited for both.

“His hands feel different, baby?”

Joel's cupping your breasts now, gently squeezing and running thumbs over your nipples, making you arch into him with a soft whine. “Yes. Yours are bigger.”

Your hips start to move, first with the arch of your back as you push into his hands, but then with the realization there's a distinct hard shape below you, covered by the rough fabric of his jeans.

"Grind on me baby, that's it. I know your pussy's been all used up, but Daddy needs somethin' too."

“I need it too Daddy.”

“Y’always do baby. Always do.”

You're rocking your hips into him, his hardening erection pressing into your core through the thick denim. His hands reach under your shirt, dragging the fabric up as he moves, exposing your breasts and immediately capturing a nipple in his mouth with a scrape of his teeth.

"What did you like about him? What made you come the hardest baby?"

"His tongue. Uhhh. Came so hard on his tongue, Daddy."

“Oh fuck, I bet he ate this pussy nice and good.” His fingers are tickling up the legs of your shorts, stroking the sensitive apex of your thighs as you rock your body over him.

“You like his cock?” Joel finally asks, curiosity winning over his patience. The question makes you smile, your closed eyes helping you picture the shape of it all over again.

“Yes, Daddy. It was so pretty.”

Joel holds back a laugh. He'd been taken aback when you'd first called his own cock pretty, and when you'd explained in detail what you meant, he understood. If anything, it sparked a new found appreciation for his own dick that he didn't know he could have. If you loved it as much as you did then, damn, it must be pretty. It was no less funny now that you were using the same word to describe another man's cock. If he wasn't so pent up, he'd have you sit here and describe every little thing you liked about it too, but right now he needed to be inside you. He'd held himself back from coming at the thought of you two fucking in his bed last night, and he couldn't hold off any longer.

“That's so good baby. A pretty cock for my pretty girl.”

Joel talking about Andrew's cock makes your head spin in the best way. You lean forward and latch your lips to his just for another surface to find purchase on and stop you drifting off into space.

“Did he come too?”

It's a stupid question, Joel knows this, but one he wanted to hear the answer to anyway. There was something about his girl getting another man off that made pride swell inside him, pumping his cock up to near impossible levels of hardness.

You moan a yes into his mouth as you rub your cunt over the zipper if his jeans. His own fingers trail higher, making you pause your grinding as his index finger finds your hole, dipping in with ease at the excess moisture gathered there.

“He come in here?”

You bite your lip.

“Not like that."

Disappointment flickers across your face, and Joel sees it, well versed in the telltale twitch of your brow as you fight off a frown. He'll press the issue more later, you know, but for now he has one goal in mind.

“You suck his dick?”

“A little bit.”

Joel groans then, bucking up into you at the admission. Knowing his own mouth had been on yours, right where Andrew's cock had been not too long ago was sending him into a frenzy - he needs to calm down or get inside you, and quickly. He pulls you up and off of him, needing more than the heat of your cunt grinding in him over so many layers, and unzips his jeans, pulling out his weeping cock. He's so hard he almost feels bruised. It's okay, he reasons, he knows the perfect thing to ease an aching cock.

Pulling you back over him, he tugs down your shorts and panties, drawing them to the side so he can hook his cock through the gusset, trapping his bare cock against your bare pussy.

You could almost cry feeling his skin on yours and you want to claw your clothes off just to feel more of him on you. You know there's probably not time - Joel's cock is red and angry and it already feels so hot against your dripping slit. You'll have to make do with later, for now you'll just take him any way you can get him.

“Can I sit on it, Daddy? Please?” You plead with him, eyes pointlessly begging when you already know the answer.

“Rub that juicy pussy all over me first baby, gotta get it wet. I know you're all stretched out already, but I don't wanna hurt you.”

Your hips buck, sliding your cunt easily over his length, coating him in your arousal. His cock drags against your clit, jerking the sensitive bundle of nerves with each roll of your hips.

Your patience doesn't last long, and choosing to ask for forgiveness later rather than permission now, you waste no time in lifting yourself up, pushing his cock head to line up with your hole, and sinking down smoothly onto his rock hard length. 

“Ohhhh, Daddy,” you groan as you take him to the root in one.

“Oh, shit, atta girl. Good fuckin' girl.” His hands grip your ass, pulling you flush to him. You fall forward, steading yourself on his shoulders. When his lips capture yours, you let out a moan, opening your mouth to the plundering of his tongue.

“Needed this so fuckin' bad, baby,” he grunts into your mouth, thrusting up now to prompt you to move. You start to rock on him, his cock sliding against a spongy spot on your inner walls, dragging back and forth over it in a way that makes your bottom lip quiver. 

“Need you, Daddy.”

"Rock on me baby. Want you comin' on my cock before I fill you up."

“Oh, god, please.”

You'd gone without it from Andrew last night, and now all you could think about was being filled with Joel's cum.

You let your hips rock forward, the drag of your clit against the hair on his pubic bone pulling a sigh of relief from you as you move. He kept it trimmed short, all the more for you to grind against when you took him deep. It won't be long until you're falling apart over him, your brain had already been half way there before he'd even got through the door.

You rock faster, screwing your eyes shut as your moans get more desperate.

“Daddy, please.”

He knows what you need, he always does. He holds you tight in one arm, planting his other on your ass to encourage you on and on with your movements. You come with him whispering words of encouragement into your ear, shaking and stuttering on his lap, slick gushing around his cock and coating every glorious inch of him.

The remnants of your orgasm are still shuddering through you when he's pulling you to the side, keeping his cock seated deep in you, to lay you back on the couch. From this angle he can fuck into you on his terms, keep you covered and protected with his entire body as he claims your pussy.

He pulls his hips back, the head of his cock coming to rest just at your entrance, before sliding home. You squeal, gripping hold of his arms tightly as he sets a brutal pace fucking into you. Before Joel you're not sure you ever really knew what full meant. At this very moment, in this room, you didn't know what anything meant anymore as he fucked you with a determination that sent you stupid.

You can't help the loud moans that come from your mouth with each thrust of Joel's hips, the wet slap of his skin against yours rattling through your bones and echoing in your empty head.

“Talk to me,” he gasps into your ear. “Talk to me baby.”

“C-can’t Daddy. S’too- s'too good.”

He slows, hips still snapping into yours, but with a force that actually allows you to catch your breath. Not that you wanted to. You were ready to scream for him, but Joel wants more words from you than the shrill cries he'd have otherwise been tearing from your chest.

Joel lathes his tongue down your neck, tracing the faint marks Andrew had left on you. He sucks and nips on them, trying to taste him on you.

“You're so beautiful baby,” he praises. “All fucked out and used up and so fuckin' beautiful.”

"Mm. He was so good, Daddy. Felt so, so good."

You feel fuzzy thinking about it, and fuzzier still with the feeling of Joel's bare cock moving in you. You snap your eyes closed again, gripping Joel's thick arms tightly. His mouth is close to your ear. You can feel it. His breathing is loud, the smell of coffee and clean hair and Joel taking over your senses.

"You want his cum in you, don't you? Come on, no lying now. I know you do, it's okay. Tell me. Saw your face when I asked, baby. Need to hear it."

"Yes, Daddy," you whine into his neck. "I want his cum in me so bad."

Joel's heart hammers in his chest, his balls are so tight they could burst, but he's determined to last longer this time. He's waited two days for you, for this. All week he'd been coming in what felt like seconds, unable to keep the thought of your weekend activities out of his mind. He was worse than a damn teenager.

"I could be fucking it deeper into you right now. My dick would be covered in it. Could have it dripping off my balls. You'd lick it off and clean me up, wouldn't you baby?"

"Please."

You would, and you wished for nothing more than to be doing that right now. The need for it makes your eyes water, and Joel spots the signs, quickly capturing a small tear with the pad of his thumb.

“S’okay sweetheart. We'll get you filled up.”

His arms wrap around you, holding you tightly to him as pounds into you, whispering filthy promises in your ear before you finally get your fill. It doesn't take him long, relishing in the sounds of your moans in his ears, the pretty sounds of you begging for him, needing your Daddy so much you were crying for it. He whispers right back to you, telling you how much of a good girl you are, how beautiful you look when you're desperate, how much Andrew must have wanted you to have come to another man's house, to have fucked you in another man's bed, how very much he loves you, and you're his, you're his, you're his.

Your combined voices egging each other on and the wet grip of your cunt get him there, pulling him into you and painting your insides with his cum. Swollen lips find yours, and you swallow down his grunts as he jerks into you.

You feel warmed from the inside out when Joel finally looks at you again, taking your head in his hands and kissing you softly.

"Missed you," he mumbles into your mouth, and the warmth in your bones melts them, turning you to liquid right there on the couch.

"Missed you too, Joel."

Joel slips out from between your legs, stuffing a hand between you to quickly pull the fabric of your panties and shorts over your dripping center. He cups you there, holding you gently, soaking through your panties and shorts with cum as it leaks out of you. With his hand still between you, he rests his sweaty forehead against yours, letting your hands stroke soothing patterns up and down his back

A loud gurgle breaks the comfortable silence, and you both laugh. It was late in the day, neither of you had eaten but both had worked up quite the appetite.

"I made lasagna," you say, Joel's weight shifting off of you, removing the shroud of his body from over the top of yours. You'd spent half the day making it, needing something to keep you occupied as you waited for Joel to come back from his work trip.

Sitting back on the sofa, he assesses your relaxed form - legs still spread, dark patch forming on the front of your panties from your combined fluids leaking out of you, lips swollen and eyes glassy.

"S'perfect," he says, and you're not entirely sure he's talking about the food.

You'd eaten dinner together, finally peeling yourselves apart when the 40 minute timer had gone off. Afterwards, Joel had taken you upstairs, spotting the same sheets that were on his bed when he left you here on Saturday morning. You go to change them, cursing yourself for the oversight, but he tells you to leave it, pulling you in for a kiss before dragging you into the shower with him. You fall asleep soundly in his sheets that night, the smell of you and him and Andrew mingled together on the soft linens.

Joel, however, can't sleep. He can't get your face out of his head - the twitch in your eyebrow, the tear escaping your eye with how much you wanted something you didn't get. He knows you - he knows you would never ask, never make that kind of request of anyone. But he is not you.

So, at some time gone 11, cradling your sleeping form in one arm, he pulls out his phone.

Joel M. (11:13 p.m.): You seeing anyone else?

A. (11:20 p.m.): What?

Joel M. (11:21 p.m.): Are you fucking anyone other than my girl.

A. (11:21 p.m.): No.

Joel M. (11:28 p.m.): Good. Get tested. If you're gonna fuck her, you're gonna fuck her properly. She's on birth control, so no more of that condom shit.

A. (11:32 p.m.): You sure? She okay with it?

Joel M. (11:32 p.m.): She wants it. Too damn nice to ask for it.

Joel M. (11:33 p.m.): Just get yourself tested. Let me know the results.

Somewhere in an apartment across town, Andrew is rubbing a hand over his face, not quite believing his luck but not quite knowing what he's got himself into.

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[andy-15-07]

Family love

masterlist ! pairing: Rudy Pankow x reader

SUMMARY : The nights are the most beautiful with the family

Genre: fluff, lovee

I remember heartbeat in the doctors office, she had him wrapped around her little finger. Rudy is the most excited for his little princess, regardless of the moment he talks to the baby in my belly, when she hears him, her little feet hit where my husband is holding his hand.

And our son was ecstatic, too. Our two year old, Andrew . He loved to put his little hands on either side of my belly, and wait to feel his baby sister kick and he loved to put his head on my belly when we stay on the couch while watching tv.

Nights have become our favorite times when Rudy and I are in bed. Rudy leaning against the headboard, and me between his legs, with my back against his chest, one of his hands on my stomach.

We giggled as we looked at our baby girl's ultrasound, wondering who she would look more like.

I want our daughter to have my eyes and lips and Rudy's nose and hair. While our son has Rudy's eyes, lips and nose, but his hair color is mine. The most beautiful combination of us.

Rudy and I have decided on what to name our daughter, Madelyn Lisa Pankow. We wanted it as our daughter. Same situation as our daughter, our son's name is Andrew Chase Pankow.

Before becoming parents for the first time, we decided to name our children after the people who have always been with us and we can consider them as members of our family. Our children's godparents are Chase Stokes and Madelyn Cline and they always came to help Andrew and me.

It was almost 11 at night and our little princess had other plans instead of sleeping, Rudy was facing me and his hand was on my belly where the baby had hit. I heard the small steps coming from the hall.

"Daddy?" He spoke from the door , rubbing his eyes.

“Yeah, baby?” Rudy asked him, as he looked back to find him.

“Can I come sleep with you? ”

“Sure, baby. Come lay with me and mommy.” Rudy told him, as he lifted the bedsheets up to greet our exhausted toddler. He sped over to our bed, and climbed up from his little steps, and rolled over Rudy's legs to land right in between us and my dear husband lift him up to cuddle.

"I was talking to your sister, do you want to talk to her too?"

He nodded his little head, and Rudy took his hand and put it where he had it a few minutes ago.

"What do you say if you start talking to her, maybe you will feel it too, what do you say my boy?"

“I’m Andrew . I'm your big brother and I will protect you . We will play together and I will read you books and stories . I love you baby sis .” He said, and the second he finished, she stuck her little feet out and gave him a tiny kick, and his excitement was so pure, he looked up at me and squealed .

"Mom, dad, you saw, my sister hit, it means she likes me." Andrew says and gets closer between us.

After a few minutes I notice that our beautiful boy has fallen asleep. I raise my head and look at my dear Rudy, the man I fell in love with from a young age, as he was looking at me smiling.

"Maybe now you will sleep peacefully my dear." It boosts my Rudy.

"Maybe. Good night, I love you Rudy!"

"Good night my love, I love you all" I hear him say and I fall asleep.

Rudy didn't sleep, he was looking at his beautiful family, he can be considered the happiest man on earth.