redamancy-writes - Tumblr blog

[redamancy-writes]

This was so goooood

Frank loved you.

In his own weird way, the man was head over heels, enraptured by you and everything you did without ever realizing it. It wasn't his fault, he couldn't help it! You had just managed to catch his attention, was he really to blame for the escalation of his feelings each trial with you brought? How every taunt had begun to become more flirtatious, how your chases felt more playful than threatening. He knew that you knew too, why else would you stop after you threw a pallet down over his head to blow kisses at him? Why else would you waste time you could've been running just to laugh in his face?

You had to be doing this intentionally, making the man's heart ache in ways it hasn't since before the Fog. You were trying to throw him off of his game, surely! You had to have been, why else would you tease him so relentlessly?

At first he had tried to reason that you did this with everyone, that the other members of the Legion would reassure him that this was just your usual behavior, but he was surprised to learn you weren't. You treated everyone else like a regular killer, you didn't even spare them a second glance. He didn't know whether this fact pissed him off or made him happy to know what the both of you had was special.

He wasn't sure what to make of it, wasn't sure if it was just something you would do until you got bored, but he decided he'd play along for as long as you did. He'd never speak upon whatever weird arrangement between the two of you, fearing for its end otherwise, but he would allow you luxuries no one else saw.

If he cornered you, he wouldn't kill you like a lamb thrown to the wolves. He wouldn't brutalize you or make you suffer as you died; hell, he'd even give you the hatch sometimes if you seemed too down in the dumps. He would caress you and hold you close to him, breath you in and cling to you like a lifeline he never knew he needed. You saw Frank for the person he once was, a man barely holding himself together and trying to deal with the fucked up cards he was dealt. A man that craved familiarity, a man that wanted to be loved.

Even if he never took his mask off around you, he did everything he could to make you feel special. Even if it was simple acts within trials, he'd do them- when it was just the two of you, of course.

He would never say those three special words, but you knew. You knew that he loved you, in his own weird way, in a way that only a killer could. Never enough to stop the cycle, but always enough to make sure it was painless. You were both condemned, the least he could do was make the cycle of hell a little more enjoyable; however brief that was.

[redamancy-writes]

The Lost Boys (1987) x Fem! Reader - Blood Bag

AN: Hello! This is my first time writing for The Lost Boys, so I hope you all enjoy! Thank you @floral-and-fine​ for the support and the help working out some of the details on this ❣️

Word Count- 1383

Fandom- The Lost Boys 1987 

Pairings- Poly! Lost Boys x Female! Reader

Title- Blood Bag

It wasn’t often that you saw your boys fight, where their playful banter turned serious and fangs elongated and eyes turned that golden yellow that sent chills up your spine.

“You got to feed from her yesterday, man,” Paul growled from next to you, hand on your thigh as he argued with Marko, “I’m thirsty too.”

“We’re all thirsty, Paul,” David scowled from his wheelchair, hands gripping the armrests to physically restrain himself. “It’s not your turn.”

“(Y/n) isn’t an object,” Dwayne chimed in, despite being on edge and tensed he was the only one who was thinking rationally as he took in the smell of fear from you.

The more tense they got, the more on edge you got. Like a bunny cornered by a wolf, ready to dart out the next opening it could find.

“I never said she was,” Paul’s grip on your thigh tightened, making you wince.

What made these fights the worst was that they always centered around you. You wished that they would be able to push their hungers aside and talk rationally, however, as a human you thought best to not butt in to their arguments. Until now, as Paul’s grip became bordering painful as his elongated nails dug into the meat of your thigh.

Gripping his hand in your own, you paid Marko’s new argument no mind as you carefully pried Paul’s hand off of you, frowning at the indents in your skin.

“You boys do know I’m not the only human in Santa Carla, right?” You broke their argument, even though saying the words themselves made an anxious pit form in your gut.

You just wanted them to stop fighting, to satisfy their hunger and come back to you as the playful, soft- not that David would ever admit it-, kind people that they usually were around you.

They were hungry, needing blood to fill their appetite and some nights even draining an adult person wasn’t enough for their bellies. Sharing itty bitty ounces of your blood between them wasn’t going to cut it. Not in the long-term, anyway.

“Why don’t you just go drink from someone else? Or multiples,” You anxiously began to fiddle with Paul’s fingers as the cave grew eerily quiet.

You thought the fight had now been done and over, as they all stared at you wide-eyed. You interpreted it as a look of astonishment, a ‘how could we not have seen this before’ until Marko spoke up.

“(Y/n)…” He breathed out, almost like a whimper.

“Why would you suggest that?” David asked, his own expression going neutral again but as his eyes shifted from yellow back to the lovely icy blue tone you adore, you could see the sadness behind his gaze.

You shrugged, keeping your gaze down at your hand holding onto Paul’s, “I can’t meet your needs, not even close,” It hurt to say it, your heart stinging as you admitted out loud that you can’t provide for them in an equal manner in which they provide for you. They took you in when you had no one, provided you a safe haven of warmth and security.

“I know I can’t, and it would be easier for you all to find a donor or even to just find someone to drain like how you did before,” You kept your head low, avoiding their stares.

“Besides, like you’ve said before David, I’m just a blood-bag right?” You felt the back of your eyes sting, “You can just replace me, or add in someone else to this equation.”

David stood from the wheelchair, the definitive sound of his leather trench coat signaling that he was approaching you before his boots spilled into your line of sight.

“Look at me, little one,” He softly ordered, and of course no matter how upset you were, you followed it. Looking up to him, you bit the inside of your cheek as you tried to look nonchalant.

“I thought we made this clear, you are the only one we will feed from.”

Feeding.

That word again.

A blood source from them, an easy way for them to fill their bellies before running whatever errands Max had for them.

Each time that word spilled from their lips, you wanted to yell out that you weren’t just food. You thought that there was something more between you all, the soft looks and gentle caresses.

Dwayne’s gentle hold on your body as he asked permission before piercing your flesh, Marko’s thumb rubbing on your exposed flesh before his nose ran along the vein, David’s hand cupping your cheek while he asked if you felt alright after, Paul pulling you against his chest so you can nap off the fatigue- acts oh so intimate.

But maybe…Maybe you were naive. Looking too far into those small acts.

“Yeah,” You looked from his gaze towards the fountain, frowning as the word ‘feed’ and all of its variations played in your head. “You like my blood, you’ve said it before.”

Marko approached now, sitting on the other side of you.

“No, (Y/n),” Marko made you look at him as his fingers tilted your chin towards him. “Not just because your blood is delicious, because you are you.” His words made your brow furrow

“The only girl we’d ever want,” Dwayne chimed in, still giving you space but the fond look in his eyes made heat rise to your cheeks.

“I don’t understand, I don’t get what this means,” You looked between all four of them, your brow still furrowed and your lips pulled into a pout.

Paul laughed, not mocking or harsh as he interlaced his hand with yours. “Boys, we haven’t been clear enough, she needs us to spell it out.”

“Spell what out–”

“You’re our mate,” David spoke, and when you looked to face him you expected a smirk on his face, his signature cockiness and arrogance on display as the leader of the group- but no, his expression was soft.

“I’m your what–”

“Our mate,” Dwayne piped up, now approaching. “Not our buffet, not our blood bag,” Dwayne’s eyes cut over to David who turned his face away with a huff. “The one we cherish with our heart and seek out above all else.”

“Your mate…” The words felt foreign on your lips, but they made your belly feel warm and full as Marko made a sound of agreement from beside you.

“We will work out the feeding issue,” David made a pointed look to Paul and before he could say another word, Marko beat him to the punch.

“But please don’t ever question your standing with us, and why we want you around.” Marko grabbed ahold of your unoccupied hand, lacing it with his own.

“Do you understand now, little one?”

“I think I do.”

“Good,” David leaned in and pressed a tender kiss to the crown of your head. “Now, we’ll be back,” David stood to his full height. Would their victims taste like garbage in comparison to your sweet crimson nectar? Absolutely. However, they needed to satiate their blood thirst, and you needed alone time to deal with this information.

“When will you be back?” You couldn’t help but ask, not used to being left behind.

“Soon, we’ll bring you back some (F/Food).”

And as they each gave you their own personal farewell, you couldn’t help but fidget in place.

“We’ll be back before you know it,” Dwayne said, lifting up your hand to kiss at your knuckles.

“You promise?” Fear still lingering that this whole conversation was somehow one grand prank and they’d come back with another woman, declaring her as your replacement then laughing at you for believing them.  

Dwayne paused, looking into your eyes. “I promise, we will always come back to you.”

A soft smile blossomed on your face as he swore they would return, the sincerity in his eyes melting your concerns as you nodded and reached out to grab one of Paul’s cuddle blankets.

“Don’t make me wait too long,” Your words had an underlying meaning as you snuggled into the surprisingly clean material, eager to discuss more about this mate situation when they came back.

“We wouldn’t dream of it, sweet cheeks.” Paul winked at you before Dwayne pushed him up the stairs.

- 

Tags- None currently

Comments and Reblogs are greatly appreciated!! 

[redamancy-writes]

Hi! ♡

1) how are you?

2) you have a excellent masterlist so far ♡

3) if you're still accepting requests then I have one idea

Halloween - Micheal Myers with a s/o, how would he treat the reader? He didn't kill them and they became his s/o sooo.. how does he treat them? (Headcanons + fluffy)

That's all:^ , have fun! And enjoy your day/night ♡♡♡

Hello!!

I am well! I've been doing midterm projects all week so I'm so happy the weekend is here, I slept for like 11 hours-

I'm so glad you enjoy my masterlist!! I hope to fill it up soon!

I am still accepting requests! I haven't tried writing for Michael Myers before, so I hope I did your request justice!! ♡♡

He thirsts for knowledge about you, and so in the beginning of your relationship, as you leave for work, he was prone to slipping in through an unlocked window, or a door you happened to think was shut and locked but wasn’t pushed in enough to activate the lock? Easy entry. Roaming through your home, checking through all the drawers and observing everything he could. 

Your knick knacks, your posters, your game collection, your art supplies, even your house plants, all told him little bits about you. Michael is an obsessive man, so being around you, wrapping himself in the ideas of you is all he can think of when you become his significant other. 

He was quiet, never one to use his voice much, but over time he began to trust you more. Realizing you wouldn’t use his words against him, nor would you tease him for mispronounced words. 

As that trust grew, so did his outward expression of care for you. Starting off with paper cranes appearing on your kitchen counter every morning, then eventually one morning you caught him leaving it, arm halfway receding from the window as he carefully laid it next to your coffee mug. He was like a wild animal that you had to gently coax into the house. But now that he was comfortable, there was no way he was going to let you go. 

“Michael,” Your tone was bordering between stern and teasing but the grin on your face ruined the facade that you were upset. 

You two were previously cuddling on the couch, well, as much as you could call it cuddling. You laid on his chest and he let you, one hand on your hip to prevent you from falling off of him, while some cheesy movie played in the background. Deciding to get up for snacks, you told him you’d be right back and to keep watching the movie. But instead… 

“I thought you wanted to watch the movie?” You raised a brow as he stood still, a miniscule shrug of his shoulders as he analyzed you grabbing out a new popcorn bag. 

“Just wanted my company, hm?” You knew you wouldn’t get much of a response as you moved to another side of the kitchen to grab out a bowl, while Michael began to rip open the bag and put it in the microwave. 

“Why thank you,” 

He’s a giver, yearning to prove himself, to show that he loves you. The evening news calls him an evil bastard, a murderer who has no care for anyone but himself. The fear that one day you’ll believe it is a genuine one, so, often he finds himself doing little things. Helping with the popcorn bag, ensuring your favorite mug is clean and by your coffee pot, if you ever forgot your laundry in the washer he’d transfer it without telling you. 

While his hands may be stained in blood from murdering a nosy neighbor who got too close to you one day, with you they’re soft as feathers as they hold you, afraid you’d break from handling you too roughly. 

From time to time, he may forget his strength, leaving behind bruises during moments of intimacy and while he doesn’t comment or make a scene about them, he does shift his behavior so in the future it won’t happen again. 

He’s silent, he’s observant, but deep down he’s a 21-year old man who doesn’t know how to love entirely, so he’ll do whatever he can to prove it.

Tag list: @icefrozendeadlyqueen (tysm for asking to be on my tag-list, it means so much that you'd wanna be on it!!)

Comments and Reblogs are greatly appreciated

[redamancy-writes]

Promise - House of Wax: Bo Sinclair x Reader

Word Count - 578 Fandom - House of Wax Pairing - Bo Sinclair x Reader Title - Promise

“You’re hurt,” Your words were soft in Bo’s ears as you stood in the doorway to his bedroom. His shirt and your underwear being the only thing you wore that day, as you had spent the day lounging in your room reading while he dealt with the tourists for the day. 

Bo shook his head, hiding his wince when you approached, carefully taking his face in your hands. You couldn’t fight the smile as he leaned into your gentle grip, his shaky hands reaching up to grip your wrists. Not in an attempt to push you away or to harm you, but to ground himself. You were here. You were safe. 

“I’m not hurt,” His promise was a bitter lie, hidden with the sweetness of his kisses he turned to place against your palm- he missed you today. He missed your skin, your smell, your voice- your laugh. 

“Your wounds, Bo, you got them all over you,” You tried to argue, tears welling in your eyes as you took in his state. Never once did you shed a tear for the tourists, but here you were almost crying over him. A pang settled into his heart as he realized this, but he simply kept pressing kisses. 

Sure his head throbbed and maybe he did have a few cuts he needed to clean up and put bandages on. Sure he was in pain, and angry- upset that one of the tourists was able to get him down on the ground, even more upset that they got closer to the house than he wanted.

 But for now, having you run to his aid and cradle him in your gentle grip - all of his anger and irritation dissipated. The only thing that bothered him now was your glassy eyes staring down at him rather than them brightened with your happiness. 

“I’m okay, I promise,” He reiterated his earlier statement, removing his grip from your wrists to pull you closer by your hips- hands sliding under his shirt. “Don’t cry for me now, darlin’,” Bo murmured, southern drawl coming out strong as he rubbed comforting circles against your flesh. 

Your face remained scrunched in worry as your eyes analyzed each part of his face, noting each new bump and blemish and bruise that graced his skin. 

“Promise?” You said after a gap of silence, forcing yourself to look away from his split lip to look into his eyes. 

“I promise,” His eyes were soft, filled with love as you leaned down to press a kiss against his forehead, feeling his body finally relax as you pressed your lips to his skin, a shaky breath leaving him. 

“But…” Bo’s voice teetered on teasing as his lips stretched into what you could only describe as the grin of the Cheshire Cat. “You could always kiss me, y’know, to take care of any pain you think I’m in.” 

Your laugh rang out into the nearly silent bedroom, making his heart finally go at ease as your tears blinked back and your eyes were no longer filled with worry. 

“Pain I think you’re in,” You echoed his words with a roll of your eyes, an undeniable smile stretching your lips as you pulled him into a kiss. Bo could be a pain in the ass, stubborn to a fault, but he was yours. Your pain in the ass, your stubborn man. And if he wants a kiss to distract him from the dull pain echoing through his veins- then so be it. 

Tags- @icefrozendeadlyqueen​

[redamancy-writes]

The Lost Boys (1987) x Fem! Reader - Payment

Warnings: None

Fandom- The Lost Boys 1987

Pairings- Poly! Lost Boys x Female! Reader

Title- Payment

“Is she awake yet?” 

Marko’s voice was unusually soft as he entered into the nesting area where you lay resting in Paul’s arms. You were laying on your side, your face pressed into Paul’s chest as he sat still on his back for you to use him as your personal teddy bear. 

“Not yet,” Paul whispered back, eyes not leaving your form as you breathed deeply, in and out, almost in a entrancing pattern. 

“We’re heading out soon, you should wake her up,” Marko nearly bursted into laughter at Paul’s horrified looking face. 

“You know she hates when she wakes up and we’re gone,” Dwayne murmured lowly, hovering in the doorway. 

“I just hate waking her- she looks so peaceful when she’s sleeping,” Paul’s pout was obvious as he looked to Marko and Dwayne with puppy eyes. 

“I’ll help you,” Dwayne decided, his lips upturning into a smile as he approached the bed, crawling to lay behind you just where David had been hours before to help you fall asleep. 

Rather than wake you though, the two simply watched- all desire to awaken you from your deep slumber gone. Your breath was deep and slow, your mouth open ever so slightly as your cheek was squished against Paul’s body. Your lips looking soft and pretty and oh so sweet, something they always remembered from your kisses. The answers of someone like you could love a rowdy group like them always evaded them. You were gentle, pretty, soft, and kind. Heart swelling of sympathy, your heart always on display. In concert with that you were understanding, trying your best to understand everyone- even if they had hurt you. Now these guys? They killed for fun, terrorizing people on the Boardwalk when they got too bored, and enticed others to make bad decisions that would end up benefitting them despite the hurt it would cause to those actually making such decisions. 

“Babycakes,” Paul murmured lowly, tone not too loud as to not startle you awake. “Time to wake up, sweet thing,” He leaned his head down to press kisses against your forehead, arm reaching up to draw patterns on your back. 

“It’s time to get up, little one,” Dwayne whispered from behind, his hand massaging yours- each knuckle getting an affectionate rub before he moved to your palm. 

Stirring from your sleep, Paul frowned as your expression lost it’s peacefulness and was replaced with scrunched brows- your mouth shutting as your head twisted to bury more into Paul’s chest. 

“Oh, c’mon now babycakes,” Paul couldn’t help but laugh at your antics, making a sleepy grin form on your face as you pulled yourself from his chest to stare at him. “Why d’ya wake me up?” Your words were slightly slurred from sleep, your eyes bleary as you pouted up at him. 

“So you could have time to wake up before we left, love,” David now called from the doorway, Marko standing at the edge of the bed. 

“Mmm,” You closed your eyes in thought. 

“Hey hey, don’t fall back asleep,” Marko called out to you, making you open your eyes again with a laugh, “I wasn’t trying to, I was just thinking…”

“Thinking about what?” Dwayne murmured, taking your hand up towards his mouth to give a kiss to it. 

“Thinking about- those,” You looked at Dwayne, making his eyebrow arch in a silent question. 

“Kisses,” You clarified, a grin spreading across your cheeks. 

“Oh I see, our little love wants kisses?” David grinned, approaching the bed.

“As a payment, of course,” You nodded at David, “Payment for waking me up so early.” 

“A payment is only fair,” Dwayne murmured, turning your head to press a kiss to your lips, a sound of surprise leaving you before you melted into him. The kiss ended all too soon, only for Paul to tilt your face towards him for his own kiss to be placed on your lips. 

David’s hands were free of his leather gloves for once, his hands feeling much softer than the leather as they cupped your cheeks and brought you into a deep kiss. 

“My turn,” Marko’s voice greeted your ears in a singsong manner after a moment, his impatience showing as when you opened your eyes he was already biting his nails to stave off his urge to approach you. 

“Marko,” You cooed, arms open for him as he eagerly clambered onto the bed, careful not to crush you with his weight as he pressed kisses all around your face, your laughs filling the room and their hearts before he captured your lips in his. 

Maybe they weren’t the nicest people, or the kindest- heck they were murderers… but you chose them, chose to love them and you didn’t shy away from their secret when they told you but embraced them with a warmth that never dimmed. 

“Mmm,” You sighed, “I think that satisfies payment in full, my dear boys.”

Tags- @icefrozendeadlyqueen​

[redamancy-writes]

Ride of a Lifetime - David x Female!Reader

Word Count- 932

Fandom- The Lost Boys 1987

Pairing- David (The Lost Boys 1987) x Female! Reader

Title - Ride of a Lifetime

"I haven't seen you in some time now." Your words felt wrong as they came out of your mouth as you approached David. Too abrupt, too formal, too…Not how you usually were with him. Greetings between the two of you were soft smiles and chaste kisses before Paul and Marko demanded you join the four of them in whatever shenanigans they were planning. 

The rest of the boys got the hint that you likely wanted to talk alone, Paul making an ‘ok’ motion with his hand as Dwayne took the lead in their exit, heading towards the rides. You hadn’t seen them in what felt like weeks but only a few short days had passed since you had seen the group, or even the blond man in front of you. 

He finally got the nerve to tell you, to ignore his urge to keep playing in a fantasy land that you two were human lovers, to tell you all about him and his friends and what they were. His eyes were lit up with an emotion you had never seen before, the way his lips stretched into a grin as in the same breath he told you he loved you and wanted to be with you for eternity, he wanted you to become one of them. 

But you ran. You were so overwhelmed and confused, you ran from him. Ever since that night you had come to the boardwalk, seeking him out to try and make amends, to explain you were scared and needed to process things, but well, that didn’t seem to matter now. The rampage that went through the cave was still visible no matter how much Star and Laddie attempted to tidy up the mess of shredded cushions and torn blankets. 

"Well, I was avoiding you if that wasn’t easy enough to figure out,”  David replied with a flick of his cigarette, looking relatively unimpressed. “But my luck obviously ran out, since you found me.”  

Masking the hurt he felt with a face of annoyance as you awkwardly stood in front of him while he leaned against the wooden railings of the boardwalk. 

“Oh,” All the hope that had built in your chest deflated. “I see, well,” You looked to the side to see the boys hopping onto the carousel, not a care in the world to pay for a ticket as they took their seats. 

“I won’t be a bother anymore then,” You said simply, the back of your eyes stinging with tears but you didn’t dare let them spill. Nodding to yourself you turned on your heel, already getting ready to fish your car keys out of your bag. 

“Why did you come back?” David’s eyes were trained on the back of your head, narrowed as he analyzed your body language. 

“For you,” You said, pausing your search for your keys but still facing away from him. Your words were no louder than a mumble, but he heard you all thanks to his supernatural hearing. 

Neither of you two said anything, but as you turned around you noticed he was suddenly much closer to you now  than before you even began walking away. 

“I care for you, David,” You got the guts to say it, wanting to at least tell him for one last time just how much he meant to you, “You know I love you,” You felt shy as his face never changed, your nerves made you doubt your ability to read him as he analyzed your every move. 

“I was scared and confused and I didn’t know what to think so I just…” You blew air out of your mouth with a bitter laugh. “Just forget it, forget I ever came back. I..” You wanted to say ‘I’ll see you around,’ but the ache of knowing that if you did, he’d ignore your existence stopped you from saying it. 

“I hope you have a great night, have fun with the boys,” You chose to say instead, giving a smile to try and play off the facade that you were okay with walking away from him. 

Before you could turn to walk away from him again, you were pulled into a tight embrace as David’s cigarette fell to the ground. David’s smell always brought you comfort, leather and cigarettes with a hint of iron. As his familiar smell invaded your senses, you relaxed into his embrace, gripping the back of his leather trench coat.

He didn’t say anything, but his tight grip on you while he buried his face in your neck told you all you needed to know. He was hurt, he was angry, he was afraid you’d never come back to him. But you were here now, and that’s all that mattered to him as he inhaled your scent, as if to confirm his mind wasn’t paying tricks on him like he was able to do to others. 

For a moment, he just held you, but after a while he pulled away. “Come on,” He murmured, gloved hand reaching out to you. 

“Where are we going?” You grinned at him as you placed your hand into his. 

“Take a ride with me, (Y/n),” He didn’t pull you, but kept your hand in his as he waited for you to make a decision. “A ride of a lifetime,” David grinned and you felt your heart do summersaults as you closed the distance. 

David brought your hand up to his lips, pressing a chaste kiss to your knuckles before releasing his grip on you, allowing you to maneuver yourself behind him on the bike. 

Tags- None Currently

Comments and Reblogs are appreciated! I hope you all enjoyed it

[redamancy-writes]

Aaaa I'm so glad you enjoyed it!!! Tysm for reading ♥️♥️♥️

The Video Store (The Lost Boys 1987 x GN! Reader)

Word Count- 556 Fandom- The Lost Boys 1987  Pairings- Poly! Lost Boys x GN! Reader Title- The Video Store Warnings: None

“Have a good night!” You waved as the young man out of the store, only to watch as his body language shifted from relaxed and easygoing to rigid and practically trembling in his sneakers. 

They were here. 

“What’re you doing?” You couldn’t help but call out, a frown on your face as the four sauntered into the video store. The store emptied in seconds, mothers scurrying their children out of the store, practically throwing their tapes back onto the shelves- not even sparing a polite smile your way as they exited.

The boys hadn’t even said anything yet, but their presence alone- bikes parked out front, leather jackets, mischievous grins and playful eyes that just equaled trouble- already scared customers away before they had a chance to speak. 

Walking from behind the counter you picked up a few tapes that were dropped on the ground, your frown remaining as you began to rant. “You can’t just do this, guys, you know Max doesn’t want you here and-” 

“And what, Dollface?” Paul pouted at you, leaning over the counter as you returned to your post behind it.

“And you scare customers away,” You gave him a pointed look as you pulled the sucker out of Marko’s hand before it fully left the candy bowl. 

“Why do you four come by so much anyways, it’s not like you ever rent anything?”

“Oh c’mon, baby, you know what we come here for,” Now it was Paul’s turn to give you a pointed look as he pulled the sucker from your hand, easily removing the wrapper and plopping the blue raspberry lollipop into his mouth. 

You couldn’t deny the heat that crawled up the back of your neck as the group hovered around your checkout counter. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” You swallowed, doing your best to fake nonchalance as you glanced past them and out to the boardwalk- checking, searching, verifying? You were alone with them. 

“Flustered, baby?” Dwayne murmured, and that’s when you realized how close he was, practically crawling over the left side of the counter, upper body almost fully laying on the countertop. 

“I-”

Before you could fully reply, Max’s voice broke the trance you were in. 

“And what do you four think you’re doing here? I told you to stay away,” His voice was exasperated but it sounded distant as Dwayne’s lips quirked to reveal a toothy smile. 

“One day you’ll understand, one day, Doll,” David spoke, giving you a meaningful look before pressing a kiss to his finger tips, holding them out in your direction before exiting the store, eyes glaring at Max as he passed. “C’mon boys.”

The remaining three seemed hesitant to leave you alone, and at that moment you realized Paul had loosely gripped your hand in his during the encounter. 

“See you later, baby,” Dwayne spoke finally after a moment of tension, finally standing upright and beginning to push the remaining two towards the door. His words felt heavier than just an easy goodbye, no no, they were weighted with promises of more and you couldn’t help but grin as your heart fluttered. 

“Can’t wait,” You replied, not wanting them to see your flustered state anymore as you turned to check in some videotapes, not seeing the way the group visibly brightened at your response. 

Tags: @icefrozendeadlyqueen

[redamancy-writes]

Being childhood friends with the Slashers

Slashers; Billy Lenz, Bubba Sawyer, Ghostface (Billy Loomis + Stu Macher), Jason Voorhees, Michael Myers (OG + RZ), Thomas Hewitt

To think that you were so close with them, it’s almost as if it weren’t coincidental.

• Billy Lenz

You only recall Billy as one of the only friends you had who had been so willing to try out all the weird dares back in middle school. You were fond of his strange antics, as it made you giggle at times. You kept his secrets as well, pinky promising him. Billy was really happy that day, his small hand holding yours the whole time. You never really thought you’d ever interact with him again after he had been pulled from public schooling altogether.

—

“___… ___’s here! Billy’s gotta call.. Right? Right! ___’s coming here!” Billy whispered under his breath, barely able to contain himself as he picked up the rotary right as you stepped inside the sorority home. He saw you from the attic window, your appearance remarkably the same, in which he identified in an instant. It made him giddy.

“Hello?” A voice responded. Someone that wasn’t you. Billy began to scream, his screams were calling for you all while he was simultaneously insulting the person on the other end. You were concerned, though you held the phone to your ear when one of the girls handed it to you teary eyed before exiting. 

You didn’t expect to hear someone blabbering expletives and curses on the other end as he signed off with the name, ‘Billy’. What you didn’t expect was to recognise that voice, no matter how loud and unintelligible it was.

“Billy.. Billy..” That was when you realised, shock overtaking you. “Is that really you, Billy?” You murmured. You looked around the room nervously, though you were relieved that nobody was around.

“___!” He cheered, repositioning himself on his stomach as his kicked his legs. He was absolutely delighted to know you still remembered him, a coo escaping him.

• Bubba Sawyer

You had known the Sawyers since you were little, your family having been quite close with them as your father had been working at the same slaughterhouse as they did. With the automation of the slaughterhouse, your parents decided to move in response to it, much to your protests that went ignored. After moving away, contact with them began to lessen and got a lot more harder—though you missing them had gotten a whole lot more bigger, especially for Bubba. He was always so kind to you. 

—

You didn’t expect your visit through the heart of Texas to have you running into the man you missed.

You saw that Bubba had been maskless, washing his face and his bloodied arms in the pond,  maybe he was finished with butchering meat. The pond tugged at your heartstrings, seeing that it was where he and you always went to whenever your parents were busy. 

“Bubba!” You hollered his name, your voice startling him at first. When he saw you, he was quick in running over to you. His pig-like squeals were amplified, wrapping his arms around you tightly. To the average person, those sounds from him would be unnerving—but you found it a familiar sort of assurance.

• Ghostface

  • Billy Loomis

Billy was initially distant with you when you tried to talk to him at school, though he crawled back to you at the end of the day, shyly asking to be your friend in school. He would excitedly talk to you about movies, more specifically action. You reciprocated by rambling about the movies you’ve watched, too. Billy became something of a quiet protector, though, you two were already difficult to tear from one another in the first place, as it resulted in Billy being petty in the ways he sought for your attention. This friendship continued on until you made it to Woodsboro High, Billy making sure to keep his eye on you as he continued on with his plan.

—

Billy patted at the seat beside him, a smug smile across his features as he began to eat at his sandwich. You followed suit, setting down the books you had been holding onto from the previous class. 

“How’s Mrs. Lake? She any good of a teacher?” Billy asked, chuckling at the sight of you huffing in frustration.

“Don’t even talk about it.. Anything you up to tonight?” You changed the subject, Billy catching onto it quickly, having known you for a long while. He nodded, a smile appearing now.

“I’m going to make a call tonight, nothing much, really.” 

After answering, Billy returned to his sandwich after doing so, ending the conversation right after.

  • Stu Macher

Stu had been dubbed as a problematic child long before you were even enrolled into the school. From what was honestly meant to be a day long interest in the new kid, Stu found himself quickly getting attached to you. He honestly craved the fact that you readily accepted him as he was and helped him focus on class in that really gentle way you did. Imagine his reaction when he heard the news that the school had offered you to be his aid in class, with you accepting it in a heartbeat? He was absolutely ecstatic. This arrangement continued until you two were in Woodsboro High, that fact itself had him quietly grateful. 

—

“Uh, hey ___?” You hummed softly, indicating to him that you were listening. His tone alone already had you knowing what it was that he wanted. You quickly passed him your notes for him to copy down. 

Stu smiled wide, patting your back as he always did. You knew that he couldn’t help the fact that he struggled finding ways to focus, so you always made sure to keep things easy for him to understand and recognise. By then, you always got the news from Stu as he boasted about the grades he had improving significantly.

“Andddd.. It’s all thanks to you~” Stu cooed, hugging you gently—which was uncharacteristic, but it showed how grateful he was. 

• Jason Voorhees

You were practically attached to the hip with Jason, having been promoted to being his buddy throughout the time you were in camp. You didn’t mind it all. You met him purely by accident, being far more interested at the drawings he made at the bench that was behind the mess hall. Jason’s mother saw you, and the rest was history. You didn’t understand what was it with the others attending camp, but you made sure to protect him whenever you could from those bullies. You were pulled away from camp due to complications that you never knew. You honestly felt heartbroken when you found out what really happened.

—

Years passed.

No matter how long it had been, you couldn’t help but feel as if you failed Jason. 

You shed many tears for him once you found out. If only you weren’t sick on that day, you could have stopped those cruel kids from throwing him in.

Here you were, resting white chrysanthemums on the bridge, right by the spot where it happened. It was quiet, as you would have expected, really.

You were startled by the sight of a hulking man donning a hockey mask as he stared at you.

What you didn’t expect was him dropping to his knees as if he didn’t want to intimidate you.

• Michael Myers

  • ’78/OG

OG clung onto you similarly to a cat with a toy trapped in its jaws, unwilling to let go. His possessiveness over you was as prominent as it could possibly appear, making sure that he scared away the boys and girls who shyly came up to you in an attempt to play. You were his only playmate, never to play with another unless you wanted to betray him. That fact remained prevalent even after the incident on Halloween, due to your aura seeming unwelcoming to others ever since that day onwards.

—

You watched the news, overwhelmed with emotion as you read the headline over and over.

MICHAEL AUDREY MYERS: ‘EVIL INCARNATE’ PATIENT BREAKS OUT FROM SMITH’S GROVE SANATORIUM AFTER DECADE-LONG DORMANCY

“After all this time, you decide on escaping now.” You murmured, checking the calender. You sighed quietly at the coincidence. You felt a presence behind you a good few feet away, feeling eyes on your back. Having known Michael for as long as you did, a small smile now formed on your face.

“How fitting for you. Welcome home, Michael.” You whispered, turning around to face your friend after so long.

  • RZ

RZ didn’t expect to make friends, seeing how it was his family that had him endure terrible treatment at school. He was surprised that you became someone who he felt protective over, being sure to keep an ear out for anybody who dare speak ill of you. While his size was puny in comparison to the other boys at school, he sure knew how to torment someone. RZ often pulled mean pranks, even going far to put his hobby of photography into the mix of the student’s bags. He even made sure to get the most gruesome shots to creep them out further. They stopped after a while, and he was never really caught per say… until that fateful night of Halloween, of course.

—

You didn’t know if it was purely by luck, but Michael found you as he basked in the aftermath of his murder spree. You were heading home, feeling eyes on you. You shivered, assuming it was due to a heightened paranoia ever since Michael had been taken away to the sanatorium.

You returned home, placing your keys on the side table. It was once you heard the back door creak open did you whip your head in its direction. Before you stood a man in a boiler suit who donned a white rubber mask. You remembered it all too well, knowing how it was one of a kind.

One thing that you knew especially was that mask your Michael wore on that Halloween night.

“Michael..” You muttered, his hand grabbed at his mask. He removed it, unveiling the long hair that he hid under it, further proving your statement. He stepped forward, his hand out for you to take.

• Thomas Hewitt

You were extremely close with the Hewitts, despite your parents warning you that it wasn’t for the best to form attachments; especially with people and places that aren’t permanent. You went ahead and did it anyway, being friends with Thomas Hewitt. He was the youngest of the Hewitt family and you learnt that he was really skillful with his hands in sewing. When you left you given Luda Mae your number for him to take. In exchange, he gave you a handmade handkerchief as his own version of goodbye to you right before you left, which made you cry on the spot. You kept in touch with him regularly as you moved, your relationship with him remaining as close as ever despite the distance.

—

“Guess what, Tommy!” You said, holding the phone closer to your ear as you felt your excitement course through you.

A grunt of curiosity escaped him, allowing you to elaborate on your words. He was in his bedroom, his head tilted to the right to avoid holding the phone as he sewed.

“I’m passing through Texas for something. Do you know what it means, Tom?” You asked giddily, your voice airy and light—indicating your elation. Thomas perked up at that, a few chuffs from him as if he wasn’t sure about it entirely, but a good feeling began to form. 

“I’m going to meet—no, I’ll be meeting you soon!” You answered, unable to keep it quiet any longer.

Thomas paused on his sewing, making sure he heard that right.

“We’re finally going to be able to catch up face to face after—how long has it been? Ah, it’s been so long…” You sighed as you moved on to ramble what you could do.

With that confirmation, Thomas reacted with his foot thumping against the wooden flooring excitedly.

Sure, Hoyt was annoyed, but Thomas couldn’t care in that moment.

Notice anything different with the blog?

Asks are open! :D Please refer to my pinned post before making an ask, thank you!

Thank you again for reading this, please reblog!!

I hope you enjoyed this post, have a wonderful day/night!! (:

[redamancy-writes]

Thank you so much for reading!!!

The Video Store (The Lost Boys 1987 x GN! Reader)

Word Count- 556 Fandom- The Lost Boys 1987  Pairings- Poly! Lost Boys x GN! Reader Title- The Video Store Warnings: None

“Have a good night!” You waved as the young man out of the store, only to watch as his body language shifted from relaxed and easygoing to rigid and practically trembling in his sneakers. 

They were here. 

“What’re you doing?” You couldn’t help but call out, a frown on your face as the four sauntered into the video store. The store emptied in seconds, mothers scurrying their children out of the store, practically throwing their tapes back onto the shelves- not even sparing a polite smile your way as they exited.

The boys hadn’t even said anything yet, but their presence alone- bikes parked out front, leather jackets, mischievous grins and playful eyes that just equaled trouble- already scared customers away before they had a chance to speak. 

Walking from behind the counter you picked up a few tapes that were dropped on the ground, your frown remaining as you began to rant. “You can’t just do this, guys, you know Max doesn’t want you here and-” 

“And what, Dollface?” Paul pouted at you, leaning over the counter as you returned to your post behind it.

“And you scare customers away,” You gave him a pointed look as you pulled the sucker out of Marko’s hand before it fully left the candy bowl. 

“Why do you four come by so much anyways, it’s not like you ever rent anything?”

“Oh c’mon, baby, you know what we come here for,” Now it was Paul’s turn to give you a pointed look as he pulled the sucker from your hand, easily removing the wrapper and plopping the blue raspberry lollipop into his mouth. 

You couldn’t deny the heat that crawled up the back of your neck as the group hovered around your checkout counter. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” You swallowed, doing your best to fake nonchalance as you glanced past them and out to the boardwalk- checking, searching, verifying? You were alone with them. 

“Flustered, baby?” Dwayne murmured, and that’s when you realized how close he was, practically crawling over the left side of the counter, upper body almost fully laying on the countertop. 

“I-”

Before you could fully reply, Max’s voice broke the trance you were in. 

“And what do you four think you’re doing here? I told you to stay away,” His voice was exasperated but it sounded distant as Dwayne’s lips quirked to reveal a toothy smile. 

“One day you’ll understand, one day, Doll,” David spoke, giving you a meaningful look before pressing a kiss to his finger tips, holding them out in your direction before exiting the store, eyes glaring at Max as he passed. “C’mon boys.”

The remaining three seemed hesitant to leave you alone, and at that moment you realized Paul had loosely gripped your hand in his during the encounter. 

“See you later, baby,” Dwayne spoke finally after a moment of tension, finally standing upright and beginning to push the remaining two towards the door. His words felt heavier than just an easy goodbye, no no, they were weighted with promises of more and you couldn’t help but grin as your heart fluttered. 

“Can’t wait,” You replied, not wanting them to see your flustered state anymore as you turned to check in some videotapes, not seeing the way the group visibly brightened at your response. 

Tags: @icefrozendeadlyqueen

[redamancy-writes]

The Video Store (The Lost Boys 1987 x GN! Reader)

Word Count- 556 Fandom- The Lost Boys 1987  Pairings- Poly! Lost Boys x GN! Reader Title- The Video Store Warnings: None

“Have a good night!” You waved as the young man out of the store, only to watch as his body language shifted from relaxed and easygoing to rigid and practically trembling in his sneakers. 

They were here. 

“What’re you doing?” You couldn’t help but call out, a frown on your face as the four sauntered into the video store. The store emptied in seconds, mothers scurrying their children out of the store, practically throwing their tapes back onto the shelves- not even sparing a polite smile your way as they exited.

The boys hadn’t even said anything yet, but their presence alone- bikes parked out front, leather jackets, mischievous grins and playful eyes that just equaled trouble- already scared customers away before they had a chance to speak. 

Walking from behind the counter you picked up a few tapes that were dropped on the ground, your frown remaining as you began to rant. “You can’t just do this, guys, you know Max doesn’t want you here and-” 

“And what, Dollface?” Paul pouted at you, leaning over the counter as you returned to your post behind it.

“And you scare customers away,” You gave him a pointed look as you pulled the sucker out of Marko’s hand before it fully left the candy bowl. 

“Why do you four come by so much anyways, it’s not like you ever rent anything?”

“Oh c’mon, baby, you know what we come here for,” Now it was Paul’s turn to give you a pointed look as he pulled the sucker from your hand, easily removing the wrapper and plopping the blue raspberry lollipop into his mouth. 

You couldn’t deny the heat that crawled up the back of your neck as the group hovered around your checkout counter. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” You swallowed, doing your best to fake nonchalance as you glanced past them and out to the boardwalk- checking, searching, verifying? You were alone with them. 

“Flustered, baby?” Dwayne murmured, and that’s when you realized how close he was, practically crawling over the left side of the counter, upper body almost fully laying on the countertop. 

“I-”

Before you could fully reply, Max’s voice broke the trance you were in. 

“And what do you four think you’re doing here? I told you to stay away,” His voice was exasperated but it sounded distant as Dwayne’s lips quirked to reveal a toothy smile. 

“One day you’ll understand, one day, Doll,” David spoke, giving you a meaningful look before pressing a kiss to his finger tips, holding them out in your direction before exiting the store, eyes glaring at Max as he passed. “C’mon boys.”

The remaining three seemed hesitant to leave you alone, and at that moment you realized Paul had loosely gripped your hand in his during the encounter. 

“See you later, baby,” Dwayne spoke finally after a moment of tension, finally standing upright and beginning to push the remaining two towards the door. His words felt heavier than just an easy goodbye, no no, they were weighted with promises of more and you couldn’t help but grin as your heart fluttered. 

“Can’t wait,” You replied, not wanting them to see your flustered state anymore as you turned to check in some videotapes, not seeing the way the group visibly brightened at your response. 

Tags: @icefrozendeadlyqueen

[redamancy-writes]

Sultry Prompt list

Cause why not? First time writing a prompt list thats going in this kind of direction. Feel free to use these for anything!

A Kiss to the thigh

Person A wearing a more revealing outfit than they'd usually wear.

"Do you trust me?" "Should I?" (in a flirty way obviously)

Hand(s) on the others leg(s).

Person A trying on a new outfit for Person B.

Almost caught.

Sneaking around.

First time seeing the other in their swimwear.

Person A helping Person B into their outfit.

Person A helping Person B out of their outfit.

"You know, no one would believe me if I told them how much of a tease you are."

"You like it?" "No, I love it."

"You are constantly finding new ways to surprise me."

A kiss to the neck.

"If you go out like that, everyone will know."

"That was lovely."

"You little devil."

"Well, that was close."

A kiss to the lower back.

"And what are you going to do about it?"

"I can think of a few things."

"What are you waiting for?"

[redamancy-writes]

The Lost Boys (1987)

[redamancy-writes]

Slowly - The Lost Boys: Dwayne x Reader

A/N: A bit of a self-indulgent fic, but also for anybody going through a hard time 🖤 Just know I believe in you and love you, you got this.

Word Count - 579 Fandom - The Lost Boys 1987 Pairing - Dwayne x Reader Title - Slowly

“You seem off,” Dwayne muttered lowly, only so you could hear as the two of you wandered through the boardwalk. It was oddly quiet tonight, making his low-uttered words confusing you. It was a Tuesday, no big event and everyone was at home with their families. The famous chaotic boardwalk turned as if into a little ghost town now that it was nearing 10pm.

“Oh?” You paused your look through new band shirts, lifting your gaze to look at him only to find him already staring at you. 

“What do you mean?” You questioned when he wouldn’t budge, a raised brow in his direction to which he returned, arms crossing over his chest. 

“You know what I mean, sweet thing,” Dwayne combatted, tossing his head to the side to indicate that you two should go somewhere more private. Dropping the Def Leppard shirt you were examining back into the sale bin, you gave the sales clerk a polite smile as you ducked out of the shop, Dwayne grabbing you by the hand to lead you to the beach. 

Sitting on the steps that went down to the beach, you were just close enough to smell the salty ocean air and to have a little bit of sand crunch beneath your shoes. 

“You’ve been quiet, withdrawn…Distant,” Dwayne didn’t look at you now, instead keeping his gaze to the shore. 

Nodding, you fidgeted with a rip in your pants, fighting the urge to bite at your inner cheek. 

“And I waited for you to come to me about it, but…It’s been weeks now,” Dwayne continued to speak while you meekly nodded in reply to show you were listening. 

“What happened?” Dwayne now turned to you, brows furrowed in concern as he watched you basically cave in on yourself, your body hunched in a self-protective manner that you didn’t even realize you were doing. 

“I genuinely wish I knew,” You muttered, letting out a breath to stare out at the lapping waves, knowing if you dared look him in the eyes any emotions that you’ve been keeping bottled up would burst from the seams. It’s not that you didn’t trust him, nor that you didn’t want to express them, but you just couldn’t. No, not tonight, not when the night was going good. Not when you were feeling a form of escapism. It wasn't necessarily a lie either, you don't know what happened to trigger this mess of a home-life of yours. If you did, well, you wouldn't be here like this.

“Can I do anything to help?” 

You answered before you even realized you were talking - “You help,” You replied instantaneously. “Being around you, doing things away from the house, being in a place that I know is safe…It helps,” 

Dwayne held out his hand to you, as he faced the shore also, making a small smile form on your face as you fought the urge to cry. Slipping your hand into his, you scootched a little closer to him to rest your head on his shoulder. 

Your problems won't go away by being out here, you knew when you returned home it would come smacking back into your face but…Slowly… Slowly they faded with each gentle crash that the waves created as they kissed the shoreline before you. 

Dwayne rubbed circles on the back of your hand as you both went silent, before bringing your connected hands up to his mouth to press a kiss to the back of your palm. 

Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated 🖤

Tag-list: @icefrozendeadlyqueen

[redamancy-writes]

Pov: You loved vampire!slashers in your past life and now you met them again

TW: mention of blood, biting, vampire and e.t.c

Characters: Vincent Sinclair, Michael Myers, Hannibal Lecter

English is not my native language, so sorry about misspells. I hope you enjoy it ♡

Mielas (Lithuanian) — Darling

You have just moved to a new small town away from the hustle and bustle of megacities. Surprisingly, you quickly found a place to live and settled into a small house, beautiful and cozy. After unpacking all the things, you decided to explore a new city a little. After all, you've been living here for quite a while, haven't you?

And now you are standing in front of a large mansion, made in the likeness of a certain Gothic style. The massive building was made in dark colors. Large windows with a pleasant view of a surprisingly well-kept garden with bushes of blood-red roses; a dark pointed roof with neat tiles; dark gray walls of the mansion with peeling paint in some places. In front of your face were massive doors made of dark oak with a neat intricate engraving on them. Something like snakes.

You take a deep breath, gathering your courage, and slowly open the door. It does not give in immediately, the old hinges creak disgustingly. And here you are inside. You can see a huge corridor with a large staircase directly opposite the entrance. The interior is made in black and red tones, in some places you can see elements of silver or gold. Huge paintings in gold frames hang on both walls of the lobby. They depict some important people with menacing faces, but you can't make out the text on the captions to the portraits. It's a language you don't know. A huge chandelier with red candles burning on it hangs on the ceiling. Even the very flame on them seems scarlet. And although it's only early autumn outside, it's strangely cool in the mansion. Almost grave cold.

Michael Myers

You notice that your kitten is behaving strangely. Perhaps you shouldn't have taken him to such a strange mansion. The black little animal begins to meow often and asks to get off your hands. You slowly put him on the floor, and he runs straight up the stairs to the second floor.

"Michael, be a good boy and come back!" You mumble in a voice a little louder than a whisper.

Your boy has never been so restless, on the contrary, he was usually even too calm. Even when you first found this baby, he was a quiet, albeit wayward cat. As if he understood you.

"Michael..."

You hear the cat meowing from one of the distant rooms and sigh in defeat. Slowly climbing up the burgundy trunk to the stairs, you hold on to the smooth black railing with your hand. When you reach the back room, you notice Michael sitting on a large velvet bed with a satisfied smile. It was a huge double bed with a gray canopy over it and a carved headboard. A truly aristocratic bed. You come closer, holding out your hands to the kitten.

"Come on, be a good boy, we need to go. We don't want to meet the owner of this place, do we?"

Finally, the cat climbs into your arms and you turn around to leave, but abruptly bump into something. He was a huge man. You back away in fear, landing on the bedspread. You just crashed into his chest...

Your eyes go up, examining the man with horror. He was at least six feet tall, menacing and cold as a statue. His dark curly hair fell in careless curls over his pale face. The man's face was expressionless, and his large copper eyes were bloodshot.

You reflexively hug the cat to you, trying to protect him, and you close your eyes. The man raises his hand and...

Nothing?

Oh.

His big cold palm with rough fingers gently touches your face, stroking your cheek. You slowly open your eyes, looking at the stranger in disbelief. But now his face wasn't so impassive. Behind all this cold facade there was a hint of... Happiness?

The man was standing there, stroking your face, as your kitten jumped to the floor, starting to rub against the man's leg. What a... He never recognized strangers, even hissed at them if someone got too close to you.

You look up at a man, and your eyes meet. Why is he silent?

"Y/ N..." he mutters faintly, and your heart starts beating wildly in your ears.

How does he know your name? A moment later, and the man gets on his knees, hugging you around the waist and putting his head on your lap. Even in this position, he was huge. He covers his red eyes, starting to slowly rub his face against your knees and emit a light purr. Just like a kitten...

"Missed you."

And again just one phrase. But it's enough to make your heart start to ache strangely in your chest. Your hands seem to move by themselves, burrowing into his unruly curls and massaging his tense skin. A strange feeling of deja vu appeared inside. As if it really was before...

Looking up, you don't find a kitten.

"Michael," you mutter softly, frowning, and notice that the man raised his head, looking at you with his puppy dog eyes. His name... Michael? Just like your kitten. You sigh softly and smile at him. The man... No, Michael, he smiles a little in response and you see little fangs peeking out from under his lips. A vampire... But it doesn't scare you. For the first time, nothing scares you. It's like you've finally come home.

Vincent Sinclair

It was a huge picturesque mansion where you wanted to stay longer. All this mysterious interior in the mystical light of blood candles caused a strange excitement in your stomach.

You slowly climb up to the second floor, looking at the paintings and leading your hand along the different railings. A truly blood-stirring place.

Walking to the second floor, your feet lead you to the first room you come across. A spacious room with dark curtains on the windows, inside there were several tables littered with papers and paraffin candles standing on them. But what caught your eye were the drawings. Oh, Father, it was a whole picture gallery! All the walls of the room were hung with old, slightly yellowed and frayed paper. And on each sheet there were different faces, as if alive. You came closer to examine them and... Your face was here. It was almost perfect. The accuracy with which your facial features and your hair were transferred, although they were somewhat longer in the portraits... Your smile is so bright and colorful. Your eyes... It was really you. But you've never worn such strange dresses... And where did your image come from here?

There was a thump behind you, as if something heavy had fallen to the floor. You turn around and freeze in place.

It was a man. He was dressed in unusual clothes for modernity, rather resembling the costumes of the Victorian era. His long hair fell over his broad shoulders, and his face was covered with a snow-white mask. Several heavy volumes of books lay on the floor in front of him. So that's what it fell...

It seems the man is hesitating. His ringed hands are shaking a little as he gathers his thoughts. It was as if he had seen a ghost. Or a goddess.

The stranger is slowly moving towards you, his dark hair flowing over his strong shoulders like silk ribbons. He slowly knelt down, gently hugging you with trembling hands. You feel this cold touch on your hot skin, but it seems almost... comforting. You look down at him, your hands almost reflexively reaching for his hair, gently running through the soft strands. And he shudders. A dull, barely audible whimper fills the room. The man presses closer to your body and mutters something indistinctly.

A simple "Vincent" flashes through your head, and you don't notice how you say it out loud. The man shudders, looking up at you, and your heart freezes. His blood-filled eyes look at you with unprecedented love and tenderness. You're back, they say.

Hannibal Lecter

"You're finally here, mielas."

It was a deep male voice that made your blood run cold in your veins. You slowly turned your head towards the stairs, noticing a tall man on it.

He was dressed in a dark suit with a starched white shirt peeking out from under his vest. His entire appearance radiated elegance and sophistication. Those carefully arranged hair on her head, shining in the bloody candlelight. This sweet, but at the same time dangerous, intoxicating snow-white smile with plump pink lips. And, oh, those blood-red eyes looking into the very depths of your trembling soul.

As he slowly descends towards you, you back away, pressing into the wall. The man reaches out to you with his pale hand with neatly sharpened nails, touching your cheek. Only now do you notice how much he towers over you. Like a predator over a prey.

"I had no hope of meeting you again, mielas," He whispers, leaning against your neck and looking at you with his burning eyes.

"S-Sorry... But I don't understand what you're talking about..." You mutter softly, feeling your knees slowly give way, "Maybe you're confusing me with someone...

"Oh, no, dear. I recognize you from a thousand," He whispers with a predatory smile, baring a pair of sharp fangs, "I recognize you from a thousand, Y/N."

"How do you know my name?" Your voice is shaking. It seems like it was too much for you. You were scared.

"Shh, mielas. I didn't mean to scare you," His gaze softens for a moment as he runs his thumb over your trembling lip, "I'm Hannibal."

He probably expected this name to give you some hint of what's going on, but you just nervously pursed your lips. What a strange man he is... Although it was worth this name to fly off his plump lips, as your heart skipped a light beat. But this is not enough to believe his words. You're just scared...

"It seems you've really forgotten me, mielas," Hannibal murmured with a slight bitterness, looking into your beautiful eyes. Oh, he was drowning in their alluring depths every time, "I shouldn't have let you go then... But I cherished you too much to deprive you of the joys of mortal life."

The man wrapped his free arm around your waist, pulling you into his cold embrace. Your smaller body looked so perfect in his hands... The pleasant aroma of his body hits you in the nose, mixed with a slight taste of copper and sandalwood. At this moment you feel so calm, here in his arms. It's as if the whole world around you has ceased to exist, just you and him.

His cold hand slowly looks at your tense back, lightly sliding his nails on the fabric of your clothes. Hannibal remembered it all too well: every curve of your body, the scent of your hair and your gentle voice. It was definitely you, his beloved, who returned to him after centuries. He knew it right away, as soon as he noticed you at the gate through the window of the second floor.

"Mielas, I've missed you so much... I thought I wouldn't see you again," he muttered, a hint of relief in his voice.

Oh, how you wanted to believe him. It all seemed like a pleasant dream. You just moved out of your old town and entered a mansion you didn't know, but this was the first time you really felt at home. You were in the right place.

You almost reflexively squeeze the fabric of his vest between your fingers, and the man lets out a light laugh. He pulls away, still holding you by the waist and burying his free hand in your hair. Hannibal tilts your head slightly to the side.

"Let me show you my love again," he whispers, and you feel a painful burning sensation in your neck.

His sharp fangs cut into your flesh, and his pink lips begin to slowly suck your skin. It was painful. But gradually this feeling was replaced by something like... pleasure?

"Let me help you remember everything, mielas."

[redamancy-writes]

Ooo this was so good

Pov: You knew slashers, when you was a child (Slashers x fem!reader)

I'm back! Well, it os a lazy post from my drafts, until I end my new idea <3

TW: no

Characters: Thomas Hewitt, Brahms Heelshire, brothers Sinclair

P.S.: English is not my native language, so lot of these words was translated by simple translator, sorry for misspells and e.t.c.

Enjoy this!

Thomas Hewitt

The transition to a new school has always been a great stress for a child, especially in the middle of the school year.

You and your parents often moved from city to city. Maybe it was their work, or maybe they just wanted to show you as many different places as possible so that your childhood would remain really memorable — you didn't know. But the constant moving was followed by a change of schools and kindergartens. On the one hand, you liked it — new acquaintances, interests and a lot of positive emotions, after all, you were a cheerful and active child — but it also brought its inconveniences — you didn't have "best" friends, you had no more than a couple of months to communicate with each of them, and multiple the change of the team has made you a real chameleon in society.

You were ten years old when you and your parents moved to Texas. The age when most classes have already been divided into peculiar interest groups, which are quite difficult for a new person to join. That's why your mom decided to bake cookies that you could distribute to new classmates. Who doesn't like homemade cakes? You actively participated in the cooking process. A little more practice, and you could learn these cookies on your own. As soon as the treat was ready — several pieces were successfully taken away by your father — your mother beautifully put it in a colored box, now tied with a ribbon. The inscription "Welcome" was painted on the lid in gold paint.

It was very hot in this area of Texas. Therefore, on your first day of school, you decided to limit yourself to a beautiful white T-shirt with some simple pattern and black shorts. The first impression is the most important, right? Your mom took you to school by car. At the reception desk, your mom introduced you and found out the number of the right office. After kissing you goodbye on the cheek, she left you to your own luck. Although you were already used to it, a nervous feeling of anticipation bubbled somewhere in your chest; your palms were sweating.

After a good seven minutes, you were standing in front of the right class, 212, clutching a box of cookies to your chest. Adjusting the strap of the gray backpack, you exhaled anyway.

Your homeroom teacher, Mrs. Sullivan, introduced you in the office. A lovely woman with curly locks hanging down on both sides of her face and freckled cheeks. Her soft figure, dressed in a white blouse and a black pencil skirt, caused a surge of strength and confidence in you. The woman lightly put her arm around your shoulders, so motherly, and asked you to tell about yourself.

"My name is Y/N Y/L," your voice trembled slightly while your gaze ran over the children sitting in the classroom, "I'm ten. I like animals and beading... Mm, my parents and I move around a lot, so I don't think I'll stay here for more than two months. I hope we'll become friends."

You ended your performance with a sincere warm smile. Mrs. Sullivan asked you to take an empty seat. Your choice fell on the farthest place by the window; a guy was sitting behind it, hunched over and staring at the street. Was he weird? No, rather unusual. He had long black hair, so unusual for a boy; his gaze was lowered somewhere on the dusty road near the school, so you couldn't see his eyes. Sitting down next to him, you quickly took out a notebook and pencil from your backpack.

"Hello?"

The boy seemed startled by your voice. He looked at you uncertainly, and you saw a face wrapped in bandages. Sad cornflower blue eyes peeked out from under the white cloth.

"I'm Y/N," you whisper, holding out your hand to the boy, "And what's your name?"

There was no response. Disappointed, you lowered your hand, now paying attention to the teacher's explanation. The woman was writing down her words on the blackboard, and you quickly began copying them into your notebook, clutching a pencil until it crackled.

There was something about this boy that attracted you. It doesn't matter if it was his shyness or isolation — you decided that you definitely want to make friends with him.

At recess, you approached a group of girls. They were dressed up like girls from fashion magazines that you often saw in kiosks by the road.

"Hi," — you said with a light smile.

"Well, hello," said one of the girls, popping a bubble of gum.

"I want to ask. M, that boy," you pointed to the long—haired boy, "What's his name? I asked, and he ignored me."

"Haha, he won't answer you. That's our little Tommy," another girl hissed sarcastically, giggling, "Thomas Hewitt is weird. Very strange. I heard that his father is his brother!"

"And he's also a terrible freak!"

You awkwardly put your hand in your hair. Thomas didn't look as disgusting as the girls described him. It's all rumors. And what to take from these children, they probably didn't even try to talk to Hewitt!

You didn't talk to this company anymore. After waiting for lunch, when all the children went out to the garden at the school, you again approached the boy. He didn't budge. It seems he hasn't even written anything since you sat down next to him.

"Hey, hello?" you waved your palm in front of the guy's face, "Thomas, right?"

This time the boy paid attention to you. There was no emotion visible under the thick layer of bandages, but you were sure that he arched an eyebrow questioningly. He's wondering how you know his name?

"You were sitting alone, so I came over. Your name is Thomas, right?" you repeated the question, finally the boy nodded, "That's wonderful! I'm Y/N, let's get acquainted."

Smiling happily, you hand the guy an open box of cookies. Golden crust with chocolate chips. You had no desire to share such a delicious thing with such terrible and tactless people. And Tommy. Tommy was different. He was timid and calm, unable to cause harm.

"Help yourself," you babble, sitting down next to Hewitt, "I made them myself! Not without my mommy's help, of course..."

You blush slightly and see Thomas's eyes narrow. He smiled! He seems to be starting to like your company.

"Can I call you Tommy?"

• Thomas has become noticeably happier since you met him. The boy began to spend more time outside the house, in your company (Luda was very surprised by this, because usually after school Tommy always came home and sat in his room).

• For your birthday, Thomas himself sewed a soft toy for you, a fox, as he found out later, this is one of your favorite animals. The toy was sewn from different, but matching pieces of fabric, a little sloppy, but quite skillfully. It made you smile. You threw your arms around Hewitt for joy.

• Once you praise him, Tommy immediately blushes a lot. It's good that it's not visible under the layer of bandages. From the moment you became friends, Thomas's self-esteem has risen a little.

• When you first offered to help Thomas change the bandages, he strongly refused. The boy just couldn't let you see his face. But when he finally gave up, Hewitt was pleasantly surprised that you didn't scream and run away. You didn't call Tommy a freak or a monster, but only sympathetically stroked his scarred cheeks.

• Over time, you began to understand Thomas without words, absolutely. You found the right answers in his movements, grunting, awkward head turning or excessive gesticulation. Even Luda was a little amazed at your nonverbal communication, but the woman was glad that her son finally found a real friend.

• Tommy often showed you his drawings. It was like the scribble of a five-year-old child, but you were always happy to accept the leaves and hang them over your bed. Basically, Thomas drew his family: angry Charlie in the corner of the paper, Monty sitting next to him in a chair, a little further away, Luda was cooking, and in the center of the drawing you and Thomas holding hands and smiling.

• It was the first time you begged your parents to stay in this city longer. Fortunately, they agreed after seeing your enthusiasm for the "strange boy".

Brahms Heelshire

• Your parents and the Healers kept in touch for a while, you can say your families were very close. You first met Brahms on his fifth birthday. He was a very well-mannered but private boy, so Mrs. Heelshire was only too happy to introduce you.

• At first, your communication did not work out. Brahms was a rude child in places, took away your toys and teased you.

• His true attitude towards you showed up when you didn't come to his house, although you were visiting the Heelshire family every Monday and Wednesday. He was seriously worried. All morning Brahms sat in his room by the window and looked at the road going through the forest, waiting for your little body in your favorite blue dress to appear from behind the trees. But you were never there. It turned out that you were just sick. That day Brahms went to your house and did not leave your bed, squeezing your hot palm.

• Your parents worked most of the time, so they were not against your games with Heelshire Jr. You stayed in their house more and more often, sometimes even overnight, and you and Brahms made noise all night, forcing his mother to swear. But still, the woman was glad that at least Brahms was behaving quite comfortably and boldly with someone.

• You were only a couple of months younger than Brahms, but you thought it was a good reason to tease you.

• The boy allowed you to enter his room without knocking, consider it a worthwhile privilege, because Heelshire does not let everyone into his personal space.

• When you were sad, Brahms brought you bouquets of flowers hastily made with his own hands. That's why his palms were green most of the time.

• Brahms makes wonderful sandwiches. He often makes them when the two of you are having a "picnic" in the garden. Although in fact he agrees to it only to admire you.

• Heelshire loves sweets very much. Very. His mom doesn't allow the boy a lot of sweets and cakes, so you secretly bring them to him from home. The boy is insanely happy.

• Brahms loves kissing. This habit, or rather the need, appeared in him because you praised the boy in this way. Has he finally cleaned the room? A kiss. Did he break his mom's precious vase during the catch-up today? A kiss! So now he can demand them for any reason. He especially likes it when you kiss him before going to bed, and Brahms falls asleep hugging you.

• You're his best friend. That's why Brahms trusts you with all his secrets. You are the only one to whom he has told about the strange and frightening thoughts that sometimes sound in his head.

"Good night," Mrs. Heelshire said, turning off the light and closing the door behind her.

You smile and blow her a kiss, covering your mouth with your palm. When the woman's footsteps recede, you exhale with relief, plopping down on the pillow with force. Squinting your eyes, you wrinkle your nose, trying to blow away the stuck strands of hair from your face. Brahms giggles and gently tucks your hair behind your ear.

The room is cool. The window is slightly ajar, letting in a light autumn wind. The curtains are swaying from side to side, taking chaotic frightening shadows.

You get under the covers up to your nose. Brahms follows your example, pressing his whole body against you, and you stroke his head.

"If I ever do something very, very bad, will you stay with me?" Heelshire whispers, looking up at you.

You look into his sad emerald eyes and laugh. He likes to put pressure on your pity, because he knows that at such moments you see him as a tiny abandoned kitten.

"I don't think you'd do anything so bad, Brahms."

"But if I do. What if everyone turns away from me. Even mom and dad. Will you stay with me?"

You pressed your lips together, frowning. Brahms had never asked such strange questions before. And how can a child who is only eight years old think about something like that after a while. Looking down at the ceiling, you turned your head, looking into Brahms' eyes.

"Yes. I'll stay."

"Honestly?" Heelshire asks incredulously.

"Honestly."

"Promise?"

"Yes, I promise you, silly boy!" you abruptly cover his face with a blanket, holding the edges on both sides of his head.

The boy was kicking, trying to get out from under your weight, while you tried not to laugh. Taking pity on his futile attempts, you took off the blankets, admiring Brahms' flushed face. Heelshire was breathing heavily, and his cheeks and nose were burning like Chinese lanterns that your parents launched on your birthday.

"I won. Again," you grin.

Brahms is silent. You sigh and lie down again, turning your back to Heelshire. Your eyes are shining with joy, and your lips continue to curve in a smug grin. You know that Brahms will not dare to do something to you in return. He always let you get away with such antics. Absolutely always.

When you are ready to fall asleep, through the chatter in your head you hear a plaintive whisper. Having opened your leaden eyelids, you groan with displeasure.

"Kiss me," Brahms whines, and you get up on your elbows, chuckling softly.

"Okay," you kiss Heelshire on the lips, "Good night, Brahms."

• "Now I've won," Brahms croaks, pressing you against the wall and spreading his hands on both sides of your head. Just like a child. Except now he's not the victim here, but you. Although was he ever a victim in your games? Rather, he always played the role of a presenter, you just didn't notice it, as if you were looking through your fingers. And who would have thought that that innocent little boy would ever stand in front of you, towering over your body by a good two heads, and grinning with eyes shining in anticipation through the black slits of the mask.

Sinclairs

Christmas is the most mysterious and magical holiday of the year; the day when the whole family gathers at one big table to properly celebrate this moment together; the day when you receive a lot of gifts from all kinds of relatives, which you sometimes did not realize; the day when all wishes come true.

You clumsily shuffled along the road, shaking your back every now and then to adjust the heavy backpack. Things inside rattled a lot, and you tried to straighten your back faster to avoid crumpled packages.

Christmas was your favorite holiday. And although your parents have been working constantly lately, you were glad that you could spend this family holiday with your friends.

You met not so long ago, only about four months ago, when you first moved here. Ambrose turned out to be a very nice and cozy city with friendly and caring people. Mrs. Sinclair, Trudy, and your mom became friends right away— their interests converged on art. That's when I met her sons, the woman suggested that you make friends with them because of their similar age. And it turned out to be a very good idea. The boys quickly became addicted to you.

Once again adjusting the canvas straps of the backpack, you quickly climb the steps requested by the snow and knock on the sand-colored door several times. On the other side, there is a fussy shuffling and dissatisfied grumbling.

"Hello," you say, smiling, when the door swings open in front of you, revealing a view of the timid Vincent.

The guy nods to you and opens the door wider, motioning you to enter. You kiss Sinclair on the cheek of the mask. Brushing off your feet at the threshold, you quickly take off your shoes and leave your backpack at the shoe shelf. Music from an old radio is coming from the kitchen, some station unknown to you is playing old songs from the seventies. As soon as you entered the room, Vincent stood at the stove again, frying something in a frying pan. Whenever Trudy was busy making figures and arranging a museum that she someday wanted to open, it was Vincent who did the cooking and other household duties. Bo was stubborn and didn't want to do "women's" work, and Lester was still too young for such a large-scale activity. The latter was now sitting at the table and skillfully sliced an apple with a hunting knife into neat pieces.

"Morning, Lester," passing by the boy, you leave a small kiss on his forehead.

"Hi, Y/N!" Sinclair winces contentedly, flapping his big copper eyes.

You sit down next to the boy and imperceptibly take a piece of apple from under his nose, throwing it into his mouth contentedly. There were already several plates and cutlery on the table. Vincent loved order, so he prepared everything in advance.

"Where's Bo?" you ask, rocking slightly in your chair, for which you get a menacing look from Vincent.

"Mom asked him to help at the museum," Lester replied, "He should be back soon."

You notice how Vincent turns off the stove and turns his whole body in your direction. The guy takes a notebook lying on the table and quickly scribbles something.

"Have you had breakfast?"

"Yes," you say shortly, when Vincent closes the notebook and puts it back, "Honestly."

Sinclair puts the hot omelette on plates and pushes you a bowl of oatmeal cookies. You happily take one piece. Vincent sits down across from Lester and lifts the mask just enough to see his mouth. You frown, noticing the edge of his deep scar.

"Hey everyone," it was heard from the threshold, when the front door slammed shut with force, "Oh, honey, and you're here," Bo walks past you, lightly touching your shoulder in greeting, and sits down next to Vincent.

During brunch, you watch Lester and Bo actively negotiate. When their plates are empty, you decide to step in.

"Since everyone is here," you babble happily, clapping your hands to attract the attention of the guys, "I want to give you gifts a little earlier than planned, do you mind?"

"Of course not," Bo abruptly pushed away from the table, "I'm all for it, babe."

Bo winked at you playfully, to which you rolled your eyes. Vincent signed something, and you looked at Lester. Your sign language was not yet good enough to understand most of the phrases, you barely remembered the words of politeness. That's why you've always relied on little Lester at times like this.

"He said: "Why are you doing this so early?"", Lester explained, innocently blinking his eyes.

"What's the difference," Bo frowned, "Sooner or later — the main thing is that she gave."

You didn't comment on the elder Sinclair's words, but just got up from the table and went to your backpack resting in the hallway. When you came back, the brothers were already sitting in a kind of semicircle on the floor. Bo sprawled impressively closer to the sofa and grinned in anticipation; Lester, in his usual manner, sat cross-legged; while Vincent tucked his knees to his chest.

You sat down between the twins and put the backpack next to you, unzipping it. You said "Close your eyes" and, as soon as the boys fulfilled your request, you began to take out colorful boxes. All packages had the same color, different sizes. Alternately, you put the gifts in front of them and allowed them to watch. Lester giggled when he saw that his box was the biggest.

"Merry Christmas," you drawled, spreading your arms out to the sides.

The very first gift was opened by Lester. The boy happily tore open the package, scattering the paper around him, and screamed when he saw the cherished surprise. A big stuffed fawn. He had a soft beige body and neat brown horns sticking out in different directions. The muzzle was cheerful, with a big nose and shiny button eyes.

"I knitted it especially for you," you babble, smiling, when Lester looks up at you with an enthusiastic look.

"Thank you!" the boy throws himself on your neck with lightning speed, squeezing your body until the bones crunch; you stroke his back.

Bo was a little surprised when he saw a set of tools under the wrapper. He loved tinkering and was well versed in mechanics; the fact that you remembered about this hobby touched the guy a little; his lips curved in a slight smile.

"Well, thanks, babe," Bo grins, patting your hair.

You're pouting a little. All the time spent in the morning combing this tangled nest has gone to waste. You are dissatisfied with blowing off a few strands that caught your eye.

The last person to open his gift was Vincent. The boy very tenderly unwrapped the package, not trying to tear it, as if stretching and savoring this moment. You watched the deft but careful movements of his fingers with burning impatience. Finally, Sinclair took off all the paper, removing it from the side, and looked down at what he saw. A large set with colored pencils. Exactly the one that the boy looked at with undisguised envy in the window of an art store about a month ago. Did you remember that? With slightly trembling hands, Vincent takes the box and turns it in his hands. There were several more drawing pads under it.

Vincent looks at you, and you see the trembling gaze of his azure eyes in the slits of the mask. Such unbelievers, but at the same time grateful. You crawl up to the boy and hug him tightly, nuzzling his neck. Vincent lets out a ragged sigh.

"Merry Christmas to you, boys," you congratulate them once again, seeing the boys' satisfied smiles.

"So why did you decide to give it to us so early?" Lester asked, clutching the toy to his chest.

"Oh, that," you awkwardly fix your hair, "Well, my parents decided to leave. To another state. We'll leave tonight. So I thought I could have some fun with you now."

There was an oppressive silence in the room. You were afraid to look up, but you could feel the disappointment on the boys' faces. Your heart was painfully squeezed in your chest, from which you gritted your teeth with a creak.

"Will you come back?" Bo broke the silence.

"I don't know. Dad was offered a job in another state. Mom just said I wouldn't be able to see you."

You looked at each of the boys in turn. Vincent's head drooped, Bo's brows furrowed, and Lester's lips tightened into a crooked thread. The elder Sinclair sighed heavily.

"We'll be waiting. All together," he looked at you from under his brows, "Just try not to come back to us."

• Vincent loves sweets; but, often, Bo takes most of the goodies. That's why you put an envelope with several edible bracelets in one of the donated notebooks. Bo will probably consider them girly and will not take them away from his brother.

• You have been knitting a fawn for Lester for about five days; the boy is very happy with your gift. Your relationship is like a brother and a scary sister. He is always ready to rely on you; Sinclair is glad that he has such a caring person, unlike the same brothers (in particular Bo).

• Trudy adores you. You could say that in these few months she began to perceive you as her own daughter. You even know where the spare keys to the back door of the house are.

• Bo always tries to impress you as a self-sufficient high school student. He saw his father's old magazines with tackles, seduction and other materials not for children, so he decided to train on you. He didn't notice how he fell in love.

• Vincent is a good cook.

• Most of Vinnie's drawings in the new notebooks are you. He will paint your portraits for many years after your leaving.

[redamancy-writes]

self care is writing a fic that you’re literally the sole target audience for

[redamancy-writes]

The Lost Boys (1987) x Fem! Reader - Payment

Warnings: None

Fandom- The Lost Boys 1987

Pairings- Poly! Lost Boys x Female! Reader

Title- Payment

“Is she awake yet?” 

Marko’s voice was unusually soft as he entered into the nesting area where you lay resting in Paul’s arms. You were laying on your side, your face pressed into Paul’s chest as he sat still on his back for you to use him as your personal teddy bear. 

“Not yet,” Paul whispered back, eyes not leaving your form as you breathed deeply, in and out, almost in a entrancing pattern. 

“We’re heading out soon, you should wake her up,” Marko nearly bursted into laughter at Paul’s horrified looking face. 

“You know she hates when she wakes up and we’re gone,” Dwayne murmured lowly, hovering in the doorway. 

“I just hate waking her- she looks so peaceful when she’s sleeping,” Paul’s pout was obvious as he looked to Marko and Dwayne with puppy eyes. 

“I’ll help you,” Dwayne decided, his lips upturning into a smile as he approached the bed, crawling to lay behind you just where David had been hours before to help you fall asleep. 

Rather than wake you though, the two simply watched- all desire to awaken you from your deep slumber gone. Your breath was deep and slow, your mouth open ever so slightly as your cheek was squished against Paul’s body. Your lips looking soft and pretty and oh so sweet, something they always remembered from your kisses. The answers of someone like you could love a rowdy group like them always evaded them. You were gentle, pretty, soft, and kind. Heart swelling of sympathy, your heart always on display. In concert with that you were understanding, trying your best to understand everyone- even if they had hurt you. Now these guys? They killed for fun, terrorizing people on the Boardwalk when they got too bored, and enticed others to make bad decisions that would end up benefitting them despite the hurt it would cause to those actually making such decisions. 

“Babycakes,” Paul murmured lowly, tone not too loud as to not startle you awake. “Time to wake up, sweet thing,” He leaned his head down to press kisses against your forehead, arm reaching up to draw patterns on your back. 

“It’s time to get up, little one,” Dwayne whispered from behind, his hand massaging yours- each knuckle getting an affectionate rub before he moved to your palm. 

Stirring from your sleep, Paul frowned as your expression lost it’s peacefulness and was replaced with scrunched brows- your mouth shutting as your head twisted to bury more into Paul’s chest. 

“Oh, c’mon now babycakes,” Paul couldn’t help but laugh at your antics, making a sleepy grin form on your face as you pulled yourself from his chest to stare at him. “Why d’ya wake me up?” Your words were slightly slurred from sleep, your eyes bleary as you pouted up at him. 

“So you could have time to wake up before we left, love,” David now called from the doorway, Marko standing at the edge of the bed. 

“Mmm,” You closed your eyes in thought. 

“Hey hey, don’t fall back asleep,” Marko called out to you, making you open your eyes again with a laugh, “I wasn’t trying to, I was just thinking…”

“Thinking about what?” Dwayne murmured, taking your hand up towards his mouth to give a kiss to it. 

“Thinking about- those,” You looked at Dwayne, making his eyebrow arch in a silent question. 

“Kisses,” You clarified, a grin spreading across your cheeks. 

“Oh I see, our little love wants kisses?” David grinned, approaching the bed.

“As a payment, of course,” You nodded at David, “Payment for waking me up so early.” 

“A payment is only fair,” Dwayne murmured, turning your head to press a kiss to your lips, a sound of surprise leaving you before you melted into him. The kiss ended all too soon, only for Paul to tilt your face towards him for his own kiss to be placed on your lips. 

David’s hands were free of his leather gloves for once, his hands feeling much softer than the leather as they cupped your cheeks and brought you into a deep kiss. 

“My turn,” Marko’s voice greeted your ears in a singsong manner after a moment, his impatience showing as when you opened your eyes he was already biting his nails to stave off his urge to approach you. 

“Marko,” You cooed, arms open for him as he eagerly clambered onto the bed, careful not to crush you with his weight as he pressed kisses all around your face, your laughs filling the room and their hearts before he captured your lips in his. 

Maybe they weren’t the nicest people, or the kindest- heck they were murderers… but you chose them, chose to love them and you didn’t shy away from their secret when they told you but embraced them with a warmth that never dimmed. 

“Mmm,” You sighed, “I think that satisfies payment in full, my dear boys.”

Tags- @icefrozendeadlyqueen​