⚠︎Warnings: Yandere content, drug usage(for sleep), non-consensual touches, reader is a famous artist
Word count: 1.8k
Still getting the hang of writing shorter stuff👉👈
“I can’t believe you got me a housekeeper!” You yell into the phone at your agent.
“Oh come on! When’s the last time you cleaned your room?” They replied.
“I just removed distractions from my life to keep a clear head! Steve Jobs wears the same-“
“-I’ve heard the same thing enough times already, yes, he removed choices from his life to focus on greater things with that brilliant brain of his, and I’m sure he has a housekeeper to clean out that pigsty of his.”
They say with a sigh, then before you can say anything, they continue.
“I saw how you work before, and you are distracted by your stuff all the time. He’s coming at 3 o’clock.” You check the clock, that bastard, it’s three minutes from now!
You hear the locked door click open.
As you glance at the doorway, you find yourself surprised to see a young male, who looks boyish, as if he’s fresh out of college. His pearly whites are almost glowing as a bright smile can be seen.
Your eyes trail to the bag of cleaning supplies in his bag.
“Great, he’s here……he looks so young, you sure he’s the right guy?” you mutter into the phone.
“Glad that those spare keys work! Now be polite, being a famous artist doesn’t mean you get a pass to be mean to others.” You turn away from the young man and stick your tongue out towards the phone secretly.
“That means no blowing raspberries, see you tomorrow.” And like that, they hung up.
You turn towards the young man, who looks energetic, excited, even, about working here.
“Pleased to meet you! My name’s Kyle!” with a peppy voice, his bright red hair bouncing along with his vivid movements. His pretty green eyes remind you of the shade of sunflower leaves. He reaches a hand out for you to hold.
You did not budge.
All he could do was awkwardly retract his hand.
“I’m looking forward to working in this lovely place!” He still says, with a bit less energy than before, making you almost feel pitying him. Almost.
“My room,” you point at it. His eyes trailed down your arm and to your pointer finger, then to the closed wooden door.
“It’s off limits.” That’s all you said before you sat down in front of your easel and continued working on your piece.
“Make yourself at home.”
You say absentmindedly and insincerely as a yellow stroke of paint spreads on the canvas. You lean back and a frustrated sigh leaves your lips. The phone call gave enough time for your acrylics to dry, thus making it hard to work with to get the result you wanted.
You’ve only laid the base color down, but it’s already clear that you’re drawing a field of sunflowers under a bright blue sky. Fluffy clouds and an ocean of gorgeous yellows simply waiting to be refined and brought to life.
Completely opposite from what you’re feeling.
“Okie dokie!” He said with a little salute, then his eyes scanned the room.
“Well, where should I start?” He asks you.
“Do whatever you want,” you answer. “If you don’t feel like cleaning you can go get a drink to have or something.” You say. You are actually hoping he’d listen and slack off so you’d have a quiet working space, and a reason to fire him, he doesn’t look like someone who’d really do his work anyways.
“Got it!” And then as soon as he said that, he left your house.
You hum now that it’s silent and continue working, thank goodness that went smoothly.
What you didn’t know was that twenty minutes later, you’d have a cup of ice cold coffee pressed to your cheek.
You squeal, as you didn’t expect him to come back, Kyle laughs softly and places the drink in your palms, you wrap your fingers around it out of instinct and look up at him, silently questioning.
“You said to get a drink,” he chuckled as he wiped the sweat on his forehead off with his sleeve, his chest heaving up and down as he puffed out those words. He seems to have run to and from the coffee shop.
“Sorry I was late, had to call your agent to ask what to get.”
You just stare at him, as if he’d grown two heads, then you look back at the coffee, and then to his bare hands.
“Where’s yours?”
Now it’s his turn to be confused, his lips form into a confused little smile.
“Mine……? I thought you wanted the drink.”
All you can do is blink, and look into his eyes, they’re filled with admiration, and an eagerness to please you. Almost like one of your fans you’d meet once in a while. Those fans who want to pry you open and see everything inside. Your frown deepens, but he doesn’t seem to mind as he watches you sip on your drink, with that cheery smile.
You only shrug and ignore him completely as he got to work, touring the house himself because you didn’t bother to.
Through time, you learned to tolerate him, you can’t fire him, not with your agent under his spell and him doing more than he’s paid for, but you begin to spend more time in your own room than outside of it, working nonstop, and by the time the three month monument hits, you finally start to open up just a little bit, mostly because he makes good food.
“Dinner time!” You hear Kyle shout from out of the room, breaking you out of your focus, you did not answer, only washed your brush and headed to your dining room. You always preferred sitting at the bar while you eat your food, the feeling of solidarity is nice. But Kyle tends to take his seat next to you, you don’t know if it’s appropriate, since you’ve never had a housekeeper before, but you’d just listen to him talk and talk and talk as you eat.
You know what your food is going to be, since he came to you this morning about the menu, apparently it’s a rich people thing, to have your personal chef decide the menu depending on your mood. He made you something light, a simple sandwich with freshly made juice on the side as you requested. It’s nutritious, as he says.
You take a bite of the sandwich as you listen to him rambling on about little things he has to say in life, sometimes about his life outside of your house, sometimes about his life inside of your house, but what he says the most is about you, how he’d ask you little questions and tell you some things you might’ve not noticed about yourself.
You usually listen to his ramble absentmindedly, creepy as it is, that’s probably how he became such a good housekeeper anyways. He has the eye of an artist, at least that’s how you write it off as.
The sandwich is on the drier side, so you have to mix it with your juice. It's mixed fruits, tastes like mango and apples, but the color is a bit more on the red side. You wonder what paints to mix to create this lovely shade, almost fitting to draw a sunset.
You feel his gaze on you as the liquid inside your cup decreases, as the drink is finished, you yawn.
Perhaps it’s because your body is getting used to this new balanced and healthy eating habit, you get terribly tired after dinner.
“You can go home for today, I have to—“ you pause for a yawn, “—get some more work done……”
He only chuckles.
“Oh, but you look tired.” He says, holding your arm as you stand up from the chair rather wobbly. You notice a little cut on his wrist, and you mindlessly trace your finger down it. He jolts a bit, but doesn’t pull away.
“This should’ve healed long ago……” you mumble.
“I have a bad habit of picking it.” He laughed it off and places his other palm on your back, it feels unnecessarily intimate, but is what you need when your legs feel so wobbly. What did you do to feel so tired all of a sudden?
“What was in that drink……?” You say, words dragging on.
“Well—“
He wasn’t able to finish, as you fell in his embrace, eyes closed and your breathing even.
“Love, and a special ingredient, might’ve put too much in there this time.” He whispers as he wraps his arms around you and picks you up gently, holding you tightly in his arms and burying his nose in the crook of your neck. He’s in ecstasy as he realized that you are using the shampoo and body wash he got for you. Now the two of you share the same scent.
Slowly, he carries you to your bedroom, this is an emergency, surely it’s good enough of a reason to break your rule?
And he walks into your room with caution, watching his feet as he tries to keep you in a comfortable position in his arms. He loves it when you need him, even though you’re sleeping. As he puts you on your bed, he observes your sleeping face, everything else in the world seemed to have just melted away.
“It’s so worth it, that secret ingredient. I get to see your face so close every night!” He almost squeals, carefully climbing on top of you and brushing his fingers along your jawline. There isn’t any light, only the light from outside of your room, illuminating the rim of the both of you. His breath grows heavy as he feels his cheeks turn hot. Leaning down, Kyle faces you, the distance between is so small to the point he can count your eyelashes, he would if he doesn’t have something else important to do.
“Now you may kiss the bride……” he can hear his own heart pounding in his ears, even if he knows it’s not possible, he imagines you to open your eyes and jump, he’s sure that your budding feelings towards him would perish as soon as you see him straddling you.
Slowly, shakily, he closes his eyes and places a kiss on the lid of your eyes, then on your cheeks, your nose, the corner of your mouth, then finally, your lips. His tongue enters easily, toying with your unresponsive one, the pink muscle almost skillfully maneuvering around in your mouth, something only experience can bring. His grip on your jaw tightens by a fraction as he tugs your jaw down a bit more for better access.
After what felt like forever, he pulls away, desperately gasping for breath. He wishes he doesn’t need to breathe at all, so that he can simply kiss you for the rest of eternity, or at least until you wake up.
He stole a few more kisses, then, he leaves your room, secretly taking note to add less of the special medicine and a bit more of the other special ingredient.
“See you tomorrow.” he says with the biggest smile as he closes the door, leaving you completely in the dark.
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Kyle, your housekeeper is a good cook, as much as you hate to admit it. Even the most difficult recipes you ask for just to make his day harder, he’ll place a perfect dish of it in front of you the next day while apologizing for not being able to make it the day before.
You will never tell him that you enjoy his cooking, and that you don’t hate him as much as you seem to, but he doesn’t seem to mind.
Seeing you finishing up all the food he makes makes him the happiest person on earth.
Even though he makes a variety of different foods, there’s always this underlying taste inside, no matter how many times you ask him what his secret spice is, he always answers with:
“It’s love!”
Which you cringe at.
Once as you’re sitting on the counter, eating your lunch, while Kyle’s organizing things in the storage room, you hear a yell coming from him.
A bit worried, you went to check up on him, seeing him holding his wrist (which, for some reason has a cut that is there for months), you walk up to him and hold his bloody wrist in your hand, as you inspect it, you smell the familiar scent.
“You smell delicious.” Without thinking, you said the words. You shut your mouth quickly and begin to panic internally, what did you just say?
Yet instead of giving you an awkward look, he gives you a wide smile, like he just heard the best news in the world.
Imagine Kyle accidentally destroying your painting, and because it’s months worth of hard work, you yell at him as he stands there, being on the receiving end of your wrath.
For the first part he’d look like a kicked puppy and lower his head, but at some point you begin to sound like a broken record, repeating the same lines about how you spent so much time on it and he ruined it.
So he zoned out, staring at the way your lips move rapidly and how you pace around complaining, the way your body sway is so beautiful he can’t help but feel his mouth dry up.
What if your lips are on his, what if your body is on his……
By the time you’re done, he has a dazed look and a wet patch between his legs. You, thinking you’ve been too mean to make his eyes water, apologize instead.
He apologize as well with his big watery eyes, and went to fix you a glass of lemonade, with a special ingredient.
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