Blood of A Rose

Blood of A Rose - Dangerous Territory

Summary - As (y/n) and Art bask in their growing relationship, a new fan of (y/n)'s dares to make themselves known.

Notes - A request for a fan/stalker fic to add to the series! I'm such a whore for reader having scary dog privileges with Art. Let me know if you have more you would like to see from this beautiful couple 💕

Warning(s) - Blood, gore, violence, stalker, smut (voyeurism)

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(Y/n) stood beside Art's workbench, easel in front of her as she painted away while he twisted and screwed. Her camera sat on the spare stool, the photo of the terrified woman open and used as her main subject while she made improvisations along the way.

She made a point to remind herself to bring her camera whenever her and Art went together, the raw fear and emotion he brought to his victims drawing a copious amount of inspiration for new pieces.

While her photography was fun and equally beautiful, there was something more soothing and calming about a canvas to her, especially in the presence of her favorite company.

(Y/n) sighed, her wrist cracking as she flexed it, stiff from holding the brush for some odd hours.

Art looked over at her and got her attention, waving for her to step away from the easel and motioned to take a deep breath.

"I know, I just get so invested to a point where I can't stop." He gave her a disapproving look. "But I think it's about that time, yeah."

She stepped away and took off her apron, moving to a nearby basin to wash her hands before putting away her camera. She grabbed the stool, making her way over to Art to sit next to the workbench.

"Whatcha making this time?" She asked curiously.

Art's grin met his eyes wickedly as he raised his shoulders in excitement. He dramatically waved his hands over it, showcasing to her what looked like a bear trap, but it seemed to have a contraption to fit a head. Art hooked his fingers into his upper and lower mouth, slowly pulling his lips apart to represent what it did.

(Y/n) gasped and nearly gagged. "A reverse bear trap?" Baffled, she looked between the torture device and Art. "It's - it's impressive. And rather ingenious, if I'm being honest. Possibly your best yet." And by best, she meant most disturbing.

Art swayed in his seat bashfully, blinking rapidly to accentuate the emotion. (Y/n) giggled and shook her head, the clown clapping to himself before returning to his work.

She tried to focus on the equipment he made, forearm resting on the bench while her other elbow did the same, chin resting in the palm of her hand with a content smile. She tried to focus, but her eyes couldn't help but drift to his hands as they grasped at his tools.

Her eyes then slowly traveled up his arms, his torso. Up to the painted face she had grown to love and adore. His eyes carefully focused on the task before him, his mouth ticking up and down every now and then as he concentrated.

The intensity of his focus was enough to make her stomach flutter, a rare moment where she could see him without his theatrics. Where she could see him vulnerable, trusting her enough to comfortably let down the persona he lifted to those outside of their safe space.

(Y/n) gazed up at him endearingly, taking in his every expression, every twitch of his face. Art then dragged his eyes over to meet her own, but she didn't falter. Her smile remained with the same endearment that she openly showed to him.

"Hi." She welcomed him gently, her voice nearly a whisper.

His grin finally reached his face and he waved at her, and if she could see the skin of his cheeks there would no doubt be a blush. (Y/n) stood with a certain level of grace and rounded the corner of the bench to stand beside him, wrapping her arms around his torso to which he gladly accepted. He rested an arm around her shoulders and pulled her closer, laying a cheek on the top of her head. His other hand sat on her arm at his front, fingers tickling the surface as they moved against it.