#little bit of a cool piece i did yesterday

[therealbillcipher]

[lisired]

change your mind yet?

pairing: haechan x (f) reader

genre/warnings: smut, enemies to lovers-esque, choking, spit kink, haechan’s lowkey a cocky piece of shit, he calls you a bitch Lol

summary: You’re going to kill him. You swear, You’re going to kill him. how did Liu Yangyang accidentally tell Lee Donghyuck—your greatest enemy—that you think he’s hot and that you’ve been in a dry spell recently? Now you have to avoid the inevitable confrontation, and worst of all, deal with the most stubborn person alive (who ironically thinks that you’re the most stubborn person alive).

word count: 4.6k

a/n: very much an oldie… not so sure about a goodie but i do love the ending. i had written this for a friend lol

You love him to bits, but Liu Yangyang is not your favorite friend right now.

Fairly, you one-hundred percent blame him for the predicament you’re currently in. You know he can be a blabbermouth at times and wouldn’t do it on purpose, but there’s no way you’d let him get away with quote-unquote accidentally telling your mortal enemy that you think he’s hot, and that you’ve been having trouble getting off.

It was yesterday evening that you were on FaceTime with your best friend, simply conversating as per usual. You were ranting comfortably to Yangyang about your troubles and how sexually frustrated you are, and he suggested you getting laid. That’s how the topic of Lee Donghyuck came. He was suggesting people, and when he asked you if you thought Donghyuck was hot, you replied yeah, but I wouldn’t touch his dick with laboratory safety gloves.

Fast-forward some hours later, he’s consentfully telling your mutual friend Renjun about your conversation, in hopes of playing matchmaker and finding someone for you to fuck. The problem? Donghyuck was around, and somehow overheard everything except the part about you saying that you’d never touch his egotistical dick.

So now you’re on campus, avoiding your egotistic mortal enemy like the plague.

Why do you dislike Donghyuck? The answer’s simple, he’s one of those guys. The ones that think they own the world, and that it revolves around them. The ones that think they can have any and every person they want, and treat people’s hearts like dirt. In short, you don’t think he’s a good person, no matter how hot he is.

When your final class rolls around, you think you might’ve successfully dodged him. You had another class with him today, but for some reason he was a no-show. Not that you care, his lack of presence was relieving. Then, you see him stroll into your Language Arts class, and the bright red cherry on top? He’s quick to snatch the seat directly next to yours. Oh, brother.

“Hey,” Donghyuck whispers. “Let’s talk.”

Your heart is racing, but you think you manage to conceal it. “In the middle of class?”

He shrugs, “Afterwards.”

You’re running out of here the second your professor dismisses you.

So, Donghyuck cornered you.

There’s no going anywhere as long as he has you like this, backed up against a wall, his hands on either side of you, and his gaze practically rooting you in place. You feel like you’re being stared down by Medusa, still as stone as you look into his eyes.

“So, let’s talk,” he grins, tilting his head. “A little birdie tells me you think I’m hot, you’re under a dry spell, and that you’ve been having trouble making yourself cum lately.”

“Did you hear the part where I said I wouldn’t touch your egotistical dick with laboratory safety gloves?”

“Then it’s a good thing that I don’t need my dick to have your thighs shaking, huh,” you’re blushing, actually blushing, cheeks aflame and your skin all hot. To make matters worse, Donghyuck’s hands move from beside you to sitting pretty on your waist, not moving lower or higher, cool texture of his rings pressing gently into your skin. The contact has you in an internal frenzy, but you chalk it up to you simply being touch-starved. “Don’t you see these lips, baby?”

Alas, you do see them. With his face as close as it is to yours, you can’t help but see them. They’re pretty and plush, kissable, and kind of do look like they could eat—no, no, no, no. You’ve been with your share of guys like Donghyuck, ones that like to talk about how good they are, yet are severely disappointing in reality. For you to even be considering sleeping with him just goes to show that you’ve struck rock bottom.

“D-don’t call me that,” you curse yourself for stammering, because he only finds it amusing.

“Why not? I think you like it, baby,” Donghyuck teases, “is that the problem? You like me, but you don’t want to like me? You don’t like that you know I could make you feel good?”

You loosen your gaze, unable to bare eye contact with him any longer, “Fuck you, Donghyuck.”

“Fuck me your fucking self,” he grabs your chin, making you look at him. If you can see anything in his eyes, it’s the unmistakable gleam of lust, so dark yet so tempting. “You want it, don’t you?”

God dammit, you do want it. But you refuse to have your name crossed out on his checklist, to be another notch in his belt. You know it would only boost his ego to have seduced the most stubborn person alive into fucking him, and you absolutely refuse to let that happen.

“No.”

Donghyuck raises his eyebrow, “No?”

“No,” you repeat.

You don’t know how you expected him to react, but he takes it coolly, dropping his hands and stepping away. Aw no, did you hurt his ego? The thought almost makes you laugh.

“Okay, but you know where to find me when you change your mind,” He smirks, and you hate how confident he sounds. Not if, but when. When you change your mind.

He strolls away, and you let him. You have bigger fish to fry, and you refuse to let some grade A fuckboy get in your head.

Unfortunately, you are not as in control of your thoughts as you’d like. This is bad, really fucking bad, you think. Last night, you actually successfully managed to cum on your own. That should be a good thing, but the reason you came is absolutely humiliating. An embarrassing, taking-it-with-me-to-the-grave secret.

You may or not may not have came to the thought of Donghyuck. How his fluffy hair would look clamped to his forehead, or how his forehead would look dripping with sweat. Imagining his fingers replacing your own, fingering you with his rings on, the coolness of them against your skin. But what really did it was probably the image of him between your thighs that was planted in your brain the second he offered himself to you. You thought of what good his lips could do, and how they’d look dripping all wet.

This is fucking terrible. You haven’t came in god knows how long, and the one time you do after forever, it’s because of the man you’ve sworn to hate until the day you die. Usually this is something you’d rant to your best friend about, but after what happened the last time you told him about your sexual frustrations, you decide you’re going to keep this one to yourself. If Donghyuck ever heard you came to the thought of him eating you out, he’d literally never in a million years ever let you live it down.

Today’s a new day, but you haven’t been able to shake off the shame, particularly because tonight’s Renjun’s party, and being one of his best friend’s, Donghyuck will undoubtedly be there. He’s posted it on his story and everything, not that you were checking. You overheard Yangyang talking about it. But either way, you don’t know if you’ll be able look him in the eye again.

“It’s a good thing you’re going out again,” Yangyang assures, walking next to you as you two stroll into the party, “maybe you’ll meet someone else to help you get out of your dry spell.”

He’s right. This is your chance to get laid, get over whatever that was with Donghyuck, and move on. You’re like, ninety-nine point nine percent convinced you’re only attracted to him out of sheer desperation. The measly zero point one percent comes from you being aware that you’ve thought he was attractive long before yesterday happened, but whatever. Forget it.

So you nod in agreement. Soon enough, you’ve settled with the party atmosphere. You’ve had a drink but you’re not drunk, and you’ve tried socializing but everyone seems so not your style, which is insane, because Donghyuck isn’t your style either. You don’t think. No, he’s not.

This is worse than you initially suspected. You can’t find anyone, and Donghyuck’s still running through your mind, being a complete and utter distraction and he’s not even here—

Speaking of the devil himself, “Hey.”

You spoke too soon.

“Ohmygod, if you’re here to try and seduce me again, I’m not interested,” you groan, hoping he gets the message and leaves you the fuck alone. At the same time you really don’t, but you definitely think you should.

Donghyuck raises his hands, “But I’m egotistical. I just came here to invite you to a game of truth of dare with the gang, lighten up a lil, won’t ya?”

You sigh. “Where?”

He leads you to the room where everyone is, and you make sure to scoot next to Ningning and Jennie, refusing to sit anywhere besides Donghyuck. All you hope now is that the bottle doesn’t land on you after him.

A couple of rounds fly by, and you’re still safe. You’re having fun, and the thought of him escapes your mind with ease. Even when the bottle does land on you, he doesn’t dare you to do anything crazy that you thought he would.

After Yangyang’s turn, the bottle lands on you. You’re not worried, because Yangyang’s your best friend, he wouldn’t dare you to do anything stupid.

Then he does exactly that.

“Seven minutes in heaven with Donghyuck!”

You’re going to kill him. You’re mentally plotting his murder right now. How you’re going to do it, when, and where you’ll hide his body. If he suspiciously winds up missing, you’re more than likely the reason why.

“Pucker up, buttercup,” Yangyang blows you a kiss.

You spit back, “Shut up, bubble guts.”

You hear him gasp in offense, but whatever he says is cut off by Donghyuck.

“Come on, babes. I can hear your lips calling my name,” he teases, and you groan, clutching your fist. You guess there’s no way out of this. Well, technically there is, but Renjun let Yangyang choose the punishment and he decided to make anyone who refused to do a dare eat a spoonful of sour cream. Mind you, sour cream by itself is disgusting, and this is probably why he and his stomach are frequently at war, so your safest option is getting in that room with Donghyuck for seven minutes. You don’t even have to kiss, you can just let everyone think you did.

So you follow him into the bathroom connected to Renjun’s room, and the second the door shuts, he has you backed into yet another wall. He grins, “Change your mind yet?”

You stand your ground. “No.”

“That’s fine, we can make out in the meantime and then see how you feel after seven minutes.” he replies nonchalantly.

Even though you’ve been thinking about it, you grimace. “Gross.”

“What? It’s not my dick, why do you act like you hate me anyways? Not that I’m really complaining, I like when things are hard.”

“Bet you do,” you grumble. “And if I’m acting, then I must be Viola Davis.”

“Eh, I’d give you Keanu Reeves.”

You glare. “On second thought, I’m almost willing to kiss you if it means you’ll keep quiet.”

“Well you’re in luck,” Donghyuck grins, “because that and giving head are the only ways to silence me.”

You cave in soon later, letting him pin you to the wall, your hands above your head as he kisses you hungrily. It kills you to learn that he’s a great kisser, because that means he’s actually good at something other than running his mouth and being the bane of your existence twenty-four seven. Though you don’t know how that’s possible, he’s gentle yet rough. Caring in his movement, though passionate in them too. The way he’s kissing you, you’d think he loved you.

In spite of your obvious attempts to try and touch him, to maybe run your fingers through his hair or hold his cheeks in your hands, Donghyuck doesn’t let you move. You can feel the teasing grin bloom from his lips, and conclude that it’s intentional.

Never in a million years did you think you’d be french kissing Lee Donghyuck of all people, yet here you are. You can’t say you don’t like it, though. That would be lying. While you’d never admit anything like it, the roughness in the way he kisses you has you throbbing.

Donghyuck’s lips are like a drug. You stop for a moment to inhale, and then you’re lips are latched back onto each other. Exhale again, then you take another drag, and the cycle repeats. You could do this for fucking ever.

Then, the timer chimes.

“Time’s up!” Chenle yells from outside the bathroom, and Donghyuck pulls always almost instantly, surprisingly readier than you are.

He looks hot as he pants, chest rising and falling then rising again. He smirks, “Change your mind?”

God fucking damn it. Time went by a little too fast for your liking. Your lips are swollen, but you want more of him, to feel him, to touch him, especially because he didn’t let you. You’re finally admitting to yourself that you want him, and you can’t ignore your cravings anymore.

“Donghyuck,” you whimper, not caring in this moment who hears you, “w-want you.”

He smirks. “I know, baby. You wanna prove to me how much?”

You nod. It’s pathetic, truly, but you need this at this point. So you let Donghyuck lead you out of the bathroom, and essentially the bedroom, ignoring the curious sounds coming from your friends. He leads you down the hall into a different, emptier room, closing and locking the door behind the two of you.

“On the bed,” he instructs.

You comply, the desperation that accompanies having not slept with someone in months and orgasming in weeks making you leap into action in an instant. Then there’s this raw part of you that has lusted after him before you fully came to terms with your desire, making you feel the way blood courses through your veins.

Donghyuck walks up and kisses you again, this time allowing both of your pairs of hands to roam freely as you strip one another almost bare. In an eager motion, you peel away his shirt and jeans, and he matches your yearn, leaving you naked. He pulls away from your lips to eye your body in awe.

“You’re a bitch,” he says, “but a beautiful one.”

“Really turned me on,” you deadpan.

He laughs yet pushes your back flat against the mattress, wasting no time in hovering above your body. The proximity has your heart racing a little quicker, a little faster than it was out of something like anticipation. Donghyuck dips his head but doesn’t kiss you like you anticipate him to, at least not on the lips. His lips scout your neck, soft and sweet against your flesh. He sucks at your skin, and your mouth gapes a little, sounding the most sweet gasp before he digs his teeth in suit. It makes you whimper aloud his name, which he clearly enjoys from the way he smiles.

Donghyuck repeats a course of similar actions as he mouth scoots lower, kissing and sucking and biting at your collarbone. Then he proceeds after some time, traveling lower and taking your breast into his mouth or his tongue swirling over your nipples. He trails kisses at your sternum, your stomach, all the while your breath getting caught up in your throat the more his mouth falls down your body. He’s so obviously teasing you, you know that much. He has a destination yet no rush to get there, taking his sweet, precious time as though he’s rich of it. And maybe he is, but your patience is running thin, and there’s only so much more of this you can take. “Hyuck,” you cry out of sheer desperation, “hurry up.”

“For someone who claimed not to want me up until ten minutes again, you really are desperate for me,” Donghyuck replies, drawing his mouth away, and hence all contact there was.

Refusing to simply take that, you retaliate, “For someone who claimed they could make me feel good, you’re doing a whole lot of nothing right now.”

“Keep running that sharp mouth and I’ll have to put it to better use,” Donghyuck answers. It isn’t like you’re against giving head, and it wouldn’t sound so bad if you weren’t so painfully deprived of the same satisfaction Donghyuck’s offered to give you. Sure, the speed—or lack of the—heightens the anticipation, but you need him to quit teasing or you’ll actually go insane.

“You keep acting like you hate me,” Donghyuck moves between your legs, and you aren’t prepared for what he does next. Something about the way he slowly smooths his single finger through your folds and draws it into his mouth for a taste is hot to you, thus making you wish he’d finally get on with it. “But your cunt is telling me that you love me. Love this.”

Well it isn’t like he’s wrong. You haven’t been this wet in ages, the dry spell you’ve been under being extreme and severe. Touching yourself has gone absolutely no where up until last night, when you somehow managed to cum harder than you have in a minute. You’re starting to think that having Donghyuck as your muse changes things.

Rolling your eyes, you sigh. You’d love this more if he stopped making you wait, but you don’t say that aloud, starting to suspect that the more you complain the longer he silently decides he’s going to test your patience. After what feels like an eternity of touching you everywhere but where you desperately need him to most, Donghyuck’s tongue draws a line between your thighs. Then another, and another. It progresses into more with no particular rush, despite the inevitable whines you can’t prevent from falling out. “Hyuck,” you cry again, wishing he’d stop playing games.

Donghyuck teases, “What’s the magic word?”

“Please,” you beg, “Please, please. I-I want, fuck no, I need this. Please, fuck—”

Your pleas are cut short the moment Donghyuck gives in, lapping at you with an unquenchable thirst and insatiable hunger. It’s so sudden that it gives you whiplash, and he has to grip your thighs to keep them spread a safe distance apart. He’s unstopping once he begins, tongue maneuvering as it pleases, roaming around freely though expertly. Had you known Donghyuck was as much bite as he was bark, you may have gave in to this much sooner than you did. Not only is he making you feel good, but he’s making you feel great. If you could taste heaven, it would be this.

Some moments pass, and the humiliating part is that it isn’t a lot of moments. Your thighs are trembling more with every lick, resulting in Donghyuck’s grip around your thighs to tighten out of consideration that you might successfully slip out of his grasp. You stomach turns, flips, and you’re vision is being clouded white, so close to an orgasm that it hurts. Donghyuck senses it, you know that he can, you can feel the arrogant smirk spreading across his lips once more. Just as you’re getting so close, as your orgasm is right there in arms reach, being dangled in front of you by a string, he snatches it away.

There’s yet another whine from you, but he answers your question before you even get the chance to ask, “Want you to cum when I fuck you, baby.”

Donghyuck removed his boxers, leaving them on the ground to be cared about later. His erection springs flat against his stomach in a way that makes you so suddenly inhale a breath, and you clench around absolutely nothing at all. You’re gawking at him as though you want to eat hm, and in a sense you do, but you can’t be blamed. It looks better than you could’ve ever imagined, decent length, decent girth. The real brag-worthy factor, however, is if he knows what to do with what god has blessed him with.

His dick nudges your slit. “Ready?”

Without wasting an eighth of second you give him the go-ahead, nodding your head at instance so fast it almost hurts your neck. He reacts equally as fast, prodding his dick between your folds and eventually your walls. It stretches you out perfectly, and the moment he’s in you Donghyuck’s moaning about how tight and wet you are. He takes a moment for himself before he starts to move, gliding in and out of you in an effortless motion.

So far, Donghyuck has lived up perfectly to your imagination and expectations, much better, even. You never would’ve thought he’d actually have the right to brag about how good he is in bed, but you see it now. He’s a god even, not that you’d ever tell him that to his face.

“So pretty, wish I could have gotten to you sooner. Always telling me that you hate me yet letting me fuck you like this. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you’ve always wanted this,” Donghyuck says into your ear, and pecks your neck. “Are you always this needy? So desperate that you’ll let even me fuck you?”

“G-god, yes,” you don’t care about overpriding him anymore, just saying things because you aren’t in the right mind to care about anything other than his dick right now.

“Yeah?” He smirks. “Tell me how it feels, baby.”

You’re almost too fucked out to speak, just moaning and whimpering in a way you never thought you would for him, “Feels good, so… so good. Love it.”

If you were in the right mind to have shame, you’d be embarrassed by the way your number-one enemy is making you moan, and not just because of the volume, but because it’s his name your moaning so pathetically. Choruses of “Hyuck” sounding from you in plethoras, calling his name with no actual reason. You’re breathing in little shallow, quick breaths, too, mouth agape as your whimpers tumble into the air. It helps that Donghyuck’s also surprisingly vocal, calling your name back. To say the least, the way he moans your name is hot and gets you off a little more, in spite of you not needing the help. He has it all on his own, fucking into you deep and hard.

Donghyuck gropes your body too, heightening your pleasure by fumbling with your breasts or rubbing your clit with one of his free hands. He doesn’t focus on one particular part of you, showering your figure with pleasure and attention that makes the sex a billion times better.

“Can I choke you?” He asks, and the question catches you a little off-guard, but once you shake off the surprise, you give him permission.

Donghyuck’s hands slither around your neck, and he presses into your jaw with just enough force to make you look at him, and silently communicate that he wants you to keep your eyes him and his actions. His fingers press onto the sides of your throat, and you’re not sure what is a bigger turn on, the fact that he knows how to properly do it or the action itself. You think it’s a bit of both, you enjoy the thrill as you look defeated by your inability breathing, and the dark look in his eyes tells you that he enjoys it too, staring straight into your soul, watching you fail to take a breath.

He doesn’t loosen his grip on your throat as he commands, “Open your mouth.”

You aren’t in the mind to question anything, simply following instructions. His mouth hovers above yours, lips parting to spit in your mouth. The action takes you by surprise yet again, but you swallow almost instinctively, never looking away from him as you do.

He backs away once satisfied, smiling. “So good for me, baby.”

That makes you clench around him, which also brings Donghyuck the satisfaction of a moan or two. He loves the way you clench around him when he says things to you, a telltale sign that you’re enjoying this more than he knows you’d probably like to admit. This whole thing between you and him, him and you is that you’re too stubborn to admit your desire. It prides him that he finally managed to make you confess it, to admit that you’re no different from anybody else. That he can still get under your skin, and does a fairly good job at that. Not only does it make him feel good about himself, but it makes him feel good right now. Your reactions, all your moans and your fucked out face, the whimpering and the begging, it all gets him off more.

That knot in your stomach is forming again, and he has you clenching around him regularly soon afterwards, and he can tell that this time, it’s not because of his words. It’s because you’re about to orgasm. “I’m close,” you announce, once again feeling all the flips and turns twisting about in your gut. It’s a good thing Donghyuck’s close too, being obvious from the way his thrusts aren’t as smooth as they initially were.

“Me, too. C’mon baby, give it to me,” he urges you on, and you let him drive you to the edge.

He makes you see white again, vision fogging the color and your voice a high-pitched moan of his name as you climax, grinding your hips into his as you intend to ride out your orgasm. In some high, trance-like state, you’re not sure when he cums, but you know that it wasn’t that much longer after you did, and then he slid out, flopping beside you on the mattress. You lie there in near-silence that consists of nothing but heavy breathing, wondering to yourself if this actually happened. You don’t regret it, not now anyways, and it was definitely a satisfying way to break your dry spell, but now you’re starting to question if it was a bad decision. He hasn’t even asked if—

“Are you okay?” Donghyuck asks, seemingly needing a moment to catch his breath before he could gather words.

His words cut through your thoughts, leaving you to accept that maybe he’s not that much of an asshole. It’s the bare minimum, so he’s still an asshole, but not that much of an asshole. “Yeah,” you nod. “I’m good.”

“Good,” he grins. “So, you wanna ditch this party and go get some Chinese food? I’m starving.”

“You want to go get food with me?” you say, sounding wholly and utterly surprised and unconvinced. This man spends every other day of his life bothering you, and now he wants to pick up some food with you?

“I mean, if you don’t want free Chinese food that I’m paying for with my money, then fine, suit yourself, I’ll just get it by my—”

“No!” You interject, sitting up immediately as you scan the room for your clothes. “I’m down. Kinda hungry, too.”

“Good,” Donghyuck says. “Chop, chop. We don’t have all night, they close in like less than an hour from now.”

Standing out of bed to put your clothes on, you consider to yourself that maybe you’ve assumed a lot about him without getting to know him. He’s definitely got an ego on him, that a blind man can tell, but he’s not really an asshole.

“Yo, I just realized something.”

“What?”

Donghyuck smiles bashfully, “I don’t have my wallet on me.”

Nevermind. He’s one-hundred percent definitely an asshole.

[drabblesandimagines]

Pink Gingham

Leon Kennedy x reader Established relationship, all fluff

It had been a long week at work. A number of your colleagues calling in sick and multiple projects in the pipeline, you’d tried to take up some of the slack with ill-advised early starts and late finishes...

Truthfully, if Leon hadn’t been away on assignment, you wouldn’t have volunteered for so much overtime.

The house still felt too big compared to the apartment you’d once shared, so the more time out of it at the moment the better, in your opinion. You’d started to feel a little off Friday morning, cast it aside as nothing that a lie-in Saturday would sort, but still found yourself awake at sunrise.

You’d got up, checked your phone to see if there were any messages – zero – showered and dressed, and taken the early wake-up call as a sign that you shouldn’t lie in today, but instead head downstairs to start on the long list of housework that had been neglected with good intentions.

You fill the kitchen sink with hot, soapy water and begin to wash the numerous glasses and cups that have built up. It must be the steam from the sink because there’s sweat on your brow by the second cup. You reason you should wait for the water cool down and take a bottle of water out the fridge, greedily gulping down half the thing before you change tact to loading the dishwasher.

After loading up the racks, you still feel too hot for what should for such a menial task. You’re feeling more akin to that time you tried to join Leon in one of his ridiculous work outs in the garage. To top it off, the beginning of a headache is now beginning to pound at your temples. You try and rub it half-heartedly away with your fingers, finally fighting back a yawn.

You check your phone again – still nothing.

It wouldn’t hurt to go back to bed, would it?

--

Your phone buzzes almost violently on the bedside table, startling you awake. The headache you had before you’d laid down for what might turn out to be an ill-advised nap doesn’t seem to have shifted, even with the painkillers you’d taken. In fact, it feels worse than it did, graduating into a horrible, constant throb around your temples.

You weakly kick the duvet off of you, feeling flush – should have got changed into your pjyamas rather than getting in bed fully dressed - and reach out blindly for your phone, holding it above your face to squint at the screen, trying to decipher what it was determined to tell you.

Two new messages from Leon.

Finally on my way home, sweetheart. Wrapped up yesterday but they wouldn’t discharge me till this morning. ETA 210 minutes.

You would’ve rolled your eyes at the acronym if it wasn’t already hard enough to focus.

And before you ask – bit bruised. Don’t recommend a prison tour…! All good otherwise x

Leon had set out on an assignment the previous weekend and you hadn’t heard much from him besides one text message a day, a sentence of more than three words if you were particularly lucky, often sweet words...

"All good."

"Miss you, sweetheart."

"I love you."

"Recycling out tomorrow!"

..or reminders about something you'd forget to do completely if he wasn't around. In fact, that’s the way it had always been if he was on what you’d call 'active duty', not just him in a stuffy suit up DC way, trailing behind the President. It's not like you’d got used to not hearing much from him, just that it was expected.

There was always that little lump in your throat when he was away, of course there was, that this would be the time you wouldn't hear from him at all and there'd just be a knock on the door, agents dressed in mourning suits.

Besides, you’d rather his focus was on coming back to you in one piece than trying to compose an update whilst shielding from bullets or something horrifying.

You haul yourself out of bed, immediately regretting it when your vision swims and you fall back down heavily on the mattress, balance somewhat abandoning you.

Probably just got up too fast, you reason, try and shrug it off. There’s there niggling feeling in the pit of your stomach that you’re not well, but you’re going to remain in denial about it. You hate being sick, will never acknowledge you’re feeling under the weather to your grave and just muster on. It’s all psychological – it’s just a headache, you haven’t drunk enough water, not after you’ve sweated the last one out, didn’t have a proper breakfast either.

You’re fine. There’s too much to do, anyway. Every single time Leon had arrived home from an assignment it had been to a clean house and a home-cooked meal keeping warm in the oven, his favourite sweatpants fresh out of the dryer after you’d convinced him to soak in the tub – worked wonders for tense and bruised muscles – and you’ll be damned if he didn’t have the same today. It’s what he deserves.

He'd beam as soon as he walked in, wrapping you up tight in his arms, pressing a kiss against your temple and you’d run him said bath, finishing off dinner to be served for when he returned downstairs. What would follow would be an early retreat to bed, sometimes for devouring kisses and more, or just embraced in each other’s arms.

Leon’s text was from a while ago, so he couldn’t be too far away. Probably be hungry as well – often running off pure adrenaline when he was fighting for his life, then had an insatiable appetite on his return – so you really should try and see what you could combine from whatever’s in the refrigerator.

Ugh – you hadn’t done a grocery run in a few days. That had been on your agenda for today, though you’re not sure you’ll have time for that now. The laundry hamper is close to overflowing, the dishwasher definitely needs running after you crammed it full after dinner last night, some rogue plates and glasses piled up besides the sink and definitely a few rooms would benefit from the vacuum being run around.

You don’t even what to think about the garbage and recycling situation.

So much for his usual welcome home deal, then.

You get up a little slower this time, rewarded for your efforts by no spots of black in your vision and carefully head out the bedroom and towards the stairs, perhaps gripping the banister a little too firm on your descent than usual.

The easiest task by far is to pop the tablet in the dishwasher and set that to run, so you do that first, though making sure to bend down slowly after the previous bouts of head rush. After it whirs into action, you grab an apron off the hook – a pink frilly gingham one, a gift from a friend – and turn your attention to the fridge and proceed to stare forlornly at the contents, hoping for inspiration to strike.

You close the door in defeat and lean up against the counter. Maybe there’s some pasta and sauce in the cupboard…? Your thought is cut off as you hear the front door unlock.

“Sweetheart, you home?” You want to think it’s the sound of his voice that makes you weak at the knees, but you’d be a liar.

“In the kitchen!” You call back, keeping yourself propped up against the counter. Usually you’d be rushing towards him, colliding into his chest for a hug but everything feels impossible.

“Hey.” He smiles, creases at the corner of those blue eyes you could stare into for hours. Though he wasn’t lying in his text about the bruises – there’s a black eye blooming, currently a rather pleasing shade of purple, and plenty of other marks and scrapes littering his arms.

“Hey. Sorry, I haven’t started dinner yet.” Leon raises his eyebrow at that, and you feel awful, but it’s not for the reason you think. “No, sorry. I mean, welcome home! I’ll just star-” You stand upright, intending to head over to the cupboard in search of something, but your step is a bit too heavy, too quick to move and your vision swims again.

“Whoa.” Leon catches you by your shoulders, holding you up. “You feeling all right there, sweetpea?”

“I’m great.” You try and shrug him off, but his heavy palms stay in place. “Are you okay?”

His brows furrow, eyes scanning over your face. “You look hot.” The concern gives way to a grin as he realizes what he’s said. “I mean, not the usual hot. Warm.”

A hand remains on your shoulder while he moves the other to your forehead, gauging your temperature, but you’ll be damned to admit it feels soothingly cool. “I’ll turn the AC on. Let me-”

“Shit, no. You’re burning up.” Leon’s eyes widen, a worried crease appearing on his brow. “How long have you been like this?”

“No, it’s just…” You pull your head back from his hand, reluctantly. “It’s just hot in here.”

He gives you a skeptical look as you try and step around him – a look that would usually be accompanied with his hands on his hips if he didn’t still have one keeping you in place.

“How long?” He repeats, his mind racing, heart pounding. It was protocol to be decontaminated after any interaction with a BOW – he’d showered and changed clothes since Alcatraz. Hell, he’d bagged up his old ones to be incinerated, just to be sure. He knows it’s not logical, he can’t have brought something back with him and it affect you this fast, but the worry still surfaces. “From before I got home or just now? Did you feel a sting or anything?”

“Sting? No.” You shake your head, scrambling for excuses. “I’ve had a headache all morning but I probably haven’t drunk enough water. And… And I didn’t have the AC on or the windows open today, it’s probably that.”

“Mm-hm.” He relaxes a little, he’d already began calculating the distance between here and the lab. “Have I told you before that you’re a terrible liar?”

“Honestly, I’m fine,” you protest, taking advantage. “I can get dinner started at least. You go relax and I’ll…!”

Your vision swims again from sudden movement, but this time it’s from Leon sweeping you up into his arms. He doesn’t even let out a grunt, even though you know he must be aching from the amount of bruises he has.

“Sweetheart, we’re barely into the afternoon. You don’t need to worry about dinner - you’re going back to bed.”

“No, I’ve got so much to do.” You lament, though you don’t fight as he adjusts his hold on you, wrapping your arms around his neck as he heads towards the stairs.

“So? I can handle it.”

“But you just got back, I should be looking after you.”

That’s the way it had always been. Leon comes home and you’re there for him, however he needs you to be. Sometimes he’ll tell you about what happened as he cuddles into your chest – likes to hear your heartbeat, reminds him of some good in the world – but you’ve failed miserably this time, not even remotely prepared.

“Sweetpea, I know you hate being sick but you aren’t going to feel any better pushing yourself, okay? Let me fuss over my favourite girl for once.”

You don’t say anything as he places you gently down on the bed, sitting up against the headrest. He goes over to the dresser and pulls out one of his t-shirts, tugging the knot of the apron strings loose before softly asking you to put your arms up above your head. It’s all gentle touches, removing the apron, coercing you out of your top and into his, shuffling you out of your jeans and pulling back the covers for you to get in.

“These the painkillers you took?” He lifts up the box from the bedside table, eyes skimming the instructions and dosage.

“Yeah.” You mumble back, nuzzling your cheek into the pillow. “I don’t remember when though.”

“We’ll hold off a couple more hours, then, before another dose.”

He grabs the glass that was sat beside the pills and retreats into the bathroom, where you hear the tap run for a moment before he’s back at your side, placing down the glass of water. He crouches down besides you and gently brushes some of your hair behind your ear.

“Can I get you anything?”

You open an eye. “You.”

He grins, gets to his feet and carefully clambers over you to lie down at your back, draping a heavy arm around your waist.

“Only for a bit, though. Don’t want you overheating from me.”

“Mm-hm…” You mumble into the pillow, feeling your body relax. The weight of his arm feels nice – reassuring. “Love you.”

“I love you too, sweetheart.”

It isn’t long before Leon can hear your breathing change, assuring him that you’ve drifted off to sleep. He could stay there easily, just close his eyes and nod off and though he knows you would never oppose that, the way you’d be so determined to get the house in order... A flash of pink gingham on the floor makes up his mind.

---

You wake up alone in the bed, a little confused, but clear of the awful headache. Looking for the glass of water you know that Leon left there earlier, you notice that the bedside table now holds your phone, plugged into charge. You sit up slowly – still wary of dizzy spells - greedily drink from the glass of water, feeling it slip down your throat into a particularly empty stomach. Seems like your appetite had decided to reappear.

The digital alarm clock over on the dresser shows that it’s gone 8pm and, most intriguingly, the laundry basket is now empty. Huh.

You don’t bother to dress as you head downstairs, still clad in Leon’s t-shirt. The TV’s playing on a low volume, a candle burning on the coffee table. You can hear the thrum of the washing machine from the utility and when you head through to the kitchen, you find Leon hunched over the sink, apron strings tied around his waist as he dips a glass into the soapy water. The dishwasher is slightly ajar and you can see it’s been emptied, and he’s washing everything left in the sink – by hand.

He looks over his shoulder with a hesitant smile at the sound of your footsteps and then turns, drying his hands off on the apron – the pink frilly gingham number seems to suit him a little too well.

“Hey. Not sure you should be up yet, sweetheart. You were a bit unsteady on your feet earlier. Go sit down for me?”

“Okay.” You nod, and he’s pleased that you don’t protest – putting it down to the fact that you still must be feeling somewhat lousy. He traces your footsteps as you plod over to sit on the sofa though, just in case, and watches you curl up against the armrest.

“You feel up to eating something? I ordered in some soup earlier. Can warm it up on the stove now if you like – it’s your favourite.”

You nod. “That sounds nice.”

“Coming right up.” He pulls the blanket from off the armchair – the one that’s usually reserved for movie nights – and tucks it around you, pressing a kiss on your forehead as he does.

He turns to head back to the kitchen when he feels your fingers curl around his wrist, causing him to pause.

“I’m sorry I’m an awful patient.”

“You’re not, just stubborn,” Leon corrects with a cocky grin, but it doesn’t have the desired effect as the pout remains in place on your lips, thoughts spiraling. “But so am I.”

“No, I should be looking after you. You should be coming back to everything in order. Whatever this is won’t be anywhere near as bad as what you’ve been through - those bruises look so sore an-“

“Hey, it’s not a competition, sweetpea.” He says, softly, crouching down in front of you, rubbing your thigh with his right hand. “We’re a team, aren’t we?”

“It feels like I’ve let you down.”

“Never.” He says, firmly, giving you thigh a squeeze. “Actually impossible. I’m just glad I got back in time to keep an eye on you, I just hate the idea of you feeling lousy on your own.”

The washing machine beeps from the utility and he gets to his feet, passing you the remote from the coffee table. “Why don’t you find us something to watch, and I’ll move the laundry to the dryer and get that soup warmed up?”

“If you’re sure.”

He bends down, presses a kiss against your crown.

“Positive.”

He only makes it a few steps back towards the kitchen when you call out, looking bashful.

“Leon?”

“Mm?” He twists slightly to look back in curiosity.

“You look cute in that apron.”

He gives you a twirl, ending with a beaming grin. “I know.”

---

Masterlist . Requests welcome . Commissions/Ko-Fi

[seichira]

what do we know at sixteen?

when hanma shuji disappeared without a trace, without a goodbye, you were quite sure that a part of you will always love him. when he shows up years later, all grown up, he is no longer the sweet shuji you remember him as.

pairing : hanma shuji x reader

content : angst with comfort. 2.4k words

warnings : swearing, violence, gang activity, guns.

the one question that usually comes up at every late night conversation while sharing drinks with a friend is, “have you ever been in love?”

“yes,” you answer wholeheartedly, because it is the truth. growing up, leaving the comforts of childhood and venturing into the adult world is confusing as hell, but there is one thing you know for sure.

you have been in love back when you were sixteen. with hanma shuji. if anyone asks a follow-up question asking whether you still love this man, you say, “no, i don’t. it was a long time ago. it was probably just puppy love.”

now, that response is reeking with lies after another.

no, you haven’t moved on. a part of your heart will always be a little bit in love with hanma shuji. it might have been a long time ago, but it feels like yesterday when you were holding hands as he walked you to your house. finally. no, it wasn’t just puppy love.

you didn’t know much about love back then but the way his body melts perfectly into yours and the safety you felt when he embraced you was enough of an explanation that you two were in love.

there is no other explanation except for love in all the nights he stayed up to throw rocks at your childhood bedroom’s window to grab your attention after a petty fight, or when he climbed up to your room with his tall and lanky body so he can pepper your face with kisses as an apology.

if it wasn’t love, how can you explain that one midnight when he got beaten up and didn’t want to go home, so he went to you to seek solace. when the boy who others thought was so cool behaved like a baby just so you would cuddle him, comfort him. when he let you put hello kitty band-aids on the cuts on his forehead.

how can anyone accuse you of not being in love if everything shuji did that endangered his safety, killed you a little bit inside everytime he did them? was it really not love if shuji did everything to protect the blissful innocence of your childhood, all while he suffered at his abusive home?

you loved him without question.

hanma shuji loved you dearly.

at least, that was what you believed until you wake up one morning, and he wasn’t there waiting at your doorstep to walk you to school. until he disappeared into thin air, not leaving even at least a shadow of his existence.

sometimes, at random times, flashbacks of your sixteen-year-old self plays in your mind like a vintage tape. reminding you of the day you walked around his sketchy neighborhood with tears in your eyes and sobs leaving your lips as you knocked on every door, asking where shuji went.

their house was empty. not even a single furniture was there, but you guess it has always been that way even when they were there. his house that he shared with his parents didn’t feel like home, didn’t feel safe. and after shuji left that house, it was nothing more than just a structure of drywall and peeling paint.

of course, you also recall reaching his phone a million times through calls and texts. at first, the calls still went through and it rang his phone, but he never answered them. you held on to that, until he one day cut all possible ties when the number he once used was no longer available.

it was cruel that a girl that young had to go through such a heartbreak. there wasn’t enough apologies fate could offer you for all the nights you spent crying, staring at your window hoping shuji would start throwing rocks again.

the pain in his absence was the only thing that reminded you of him, ironically. so you held on to it for a long time, because the hurt was proof that he was real. it was the last piece of evidence that you were loved by hanma shuji.

you chose to rise past the truth that he left you without a word, choosing instead to remember the good times you had. there were a lot. they were enough.

all these years, when you think of shuji, you picture him as someone who is a lot taller and more handsome than he already was before. you see him remaining sweet but still a bit of a troublemaker, but nonetheless, kind.

you took comfort in those thoughts. he’s in a better state now, for sure. he’s probably moved far away from his abusive parents, living in a big house just like you two used to dream of, eating sumptuous meals, and generally just living well.

after spending the night at the karaoke place with your officemates, you bid each of them goodnight and you start walking the dimly lit street. there are barely any taxis passing by, so you continue walking to help ease off the tipsiness brought by the bottle of beer you ordered.

a few minutes later, you almost reach the front of another alley. at first, there were muffled noises that you brush off as usual city noise. the closer you walk, the louder those muffled noises become.

until you stop walking altogether to turn your head towards the dark alley. the first sight you register is a broad back of a tall man in a suit. with... a gun. and in front of him... a person with a white cloth as a gag on his mouth.

you gasp, but you are also quick to cover your mouth with a palm. as much as you want to run away, your feet are glued in place. if you do run away, your legs will only fail you with how badly they are trembling.

the man in the suit can turn around anytime and find you. but you can’t. at this second, you don’t realize it yet, but you are exactly the characters the horror movies who you bash for being stupid.

“any last word?”

you shiver at the lack of emotion in the voice of the man. it is cold, heartless. the voice of a criminal who has no regard for life.

“please! please! let me live! i really do not know who killed kisaki tetta! i swear it wasn’t me! i have a family! my two daughters are waiting so please-” the helpless bloodied man earns a kicking on the stomach.

“i said word. that’s too many, you piece of shit.”

you hear the cucking sound of the gun, and the tall man aims it to the forehead of the man kneeling before him. can you just watch it happen? the man said it himself, he has a family. he has daughters.

before you can even think, you sob out, “no, please! don’t!”

the two men simultaneously looks at you. the man in a suit freezes before he moves his body to completely face you. however, your eyes are set on the man kneeling. you ran to him, stupidly so, and you try to free him from his restraints despite shaking so badly.

you wonder why the man in a suit doesn’t move to stop you. to kill you. to dispose of you after interrupting him. but you can’t do it, you can’t let someone be killed right in front of you. this scenario was exactly something that your nightmares were made of back then, because you were terrified that your shuji would be hurt this way.

“run away, please. run away,” you whisper delicately to the injured man. still, no intervention came from the man behind you. you wonder why, but you are certain you are going to die here tonight.

slowly, you rose to your feet, raise your two hands in surrender, and face the heartless criminal. but that heartless criminal is hanma shuji.

the two of you stood there, staring wide-eyed at each other. his lips are parted in surprise, and his eyes filled with anguish that you had to see that, and the shock of seeing you again. while yours, of familiarity but also of fear that this man is not the shuji you once knew.

“sh-shuji?”

“what the fuck?!” he screams at you. he has never done that before. hell, you have the nerve to be scared of his roaring voice when you just witnessed him almost commit a murder right before your eyes. “the fucking man got away! he was my only fuckin’ lead! fucking shit!”

he runs past you and doesn’t give you a chance to say another word. he runs, and runs, and runs, until he is out of sight. he was supposed to chase after the man, but he doesn’t. he purposefully let you free the man because he knew it would have killed you inside if you failed. he runs because he can’t face you, not now that he’s a criminal he spent his entire life keeping you away from.

there is something terribly wrong with you. yes, you are up all night because of what just happened, but you aren’t thinking of the attempted murder that unfolded in front of you.

you are thinking about shuji, and how right you are about his appearance but also how terribly wrong you are about the life he is leading.

there is something terribly wrong with you.

because you realize tonight that you do not just love him a little. you are deeply in love with him still, and that is the reason why you haven’t loved anyone else after him, and it wasn’t because you were too busy with studies or work.

after all these years, it is still hanma shuji for you.

tonight, you allow the sixteen-year-old girl within you to weep for what hanma shuji has become. he isn’t your sweet, troublemaker boy anymore. he didn’t even seem to know who you are. he is a criminal.

and you fucking love him still.

in the middle of your thoughts and tears at four in the morning, a knock comes on your condo unit’s door. with a groan because of your throbbing head, you head to the door to open it, expecting housekeeping.

but right in front of you is the man himself, hanma shuji.

he looks tired and forlorn. despite his proud stance in the way he carries himself, his eyes are dead at void of life. he is an incredibly handsome man, but somehow, that beauty isn’t enough to erase desperation on his face.

“sh-shuji,” you choked out. “it is you, right?”

a tear escapes from his eyes when you reach out to hold his face gently, like he is the most important person in the world, when he was expecting a slap on the face. he sheds a tear for the first time in ten years, the last time being the time he had to leave you behind because his gang life was getting too dangerous for you. he cries because the woman he never stopped loving, the woman who just saw him commit a crime, is holding his face like a fragile glass.

“it’s me,” he whispers.

it dawns on you that he is still your shuji. he is standing right in front of you to show you exactly that. i changed, but it’s still me. i’m still your shuji. please, embrace me for who i am. please.

with a soft gaze and a soft voice, you ask him. “what happened?”

so you lead him inside, sit him down on your couch, and let him talk. you two are seated at opposite ends of the sofa, two people leaving a distance because they are afraid of what might happen if they cross it, and they want to cross it so bad.

the entire time, your brain is screaming, i miss you. i miss you. i miss you.

shuji explains everything to you. 

he tells you how a rival gang back then was killing everyone they held dear and a single connection to you will put you in peril.

he confesses that it broke his heart just as much as it broke yours, that when you were crying yourself to sleep, he wasn’t necessarily celebrating somewhere else. 

he admits that it took everything in him not to run back to you and beg you to take him back, to love him again.

he comes clean to the fact that he has been keeping track of you after all this time just to make sure you live somewhere safe, that no danger will come upon you, that you will grow up and live happily.

but he tells you how hard his life has been and why he is what he is right now, and he doesn’t have it in him to be sorry for all the things he did to survive.

“i’m sorry you had to see that, i–i have no excuse. i was too freaked out to see you there. never should’ve shouted at you. i am sorry.” he mutters after a long time of speaking. you listen to all that he has to say, and you reach out a hand to rest on top of his. 

you are hoping to get your message across through that touch. i believe you. i know. i understand.

when shuji comes at a dead end in thinking of what to say next, you scoot closer to him and took his much larger frame in your arms. with that single move, you unknowingly give hanma shuji the very thing he has craved for. your embrace.

“i don’t blame you, shuji,” you manage to say in between the soft hiccups that came with your tears. “it must have been so hard for you... and i wasn’t there.”

“it was because i left. i also wasn’t there for you when i promised i’d always be, y/n.”

you shake your head and stare straight into his eyes. “no... you did it to protect me.”

“i still could’ve done a lot of things differently! could’ve saved you a lot of heartbreaks!” he can’t help but share his regrets and his mistakes that he wishes he could make right. you stop him again by caging his face with your hands.

“shuji. we were kids. we didn’t know any better. what do we know at sixteen?”

he nods and frees himself from whatever keeps him from breaking down. he knows he can cry with you. he knows you won’t harm him. he knows he can be vulnerable when he is with you.

“thank you, shuji, for everything.” you pull him in to kiss him tenderly. there is a faint taste of the mixture of your tears on your lips, but neither of you seem to mind. “i love you.”

hanma shuji traces your jaw with the back of his hand while memorizing every part of this version of you. he swears he will never leave you again, he will never torture himself that much again. he has the world now. nothing can hurt you now.

“i knew at sixteen that i will always, always... be in love with you, y/n.”

[1nthedarknessofthenight]

﴾ i drink your blood and i eat your skin, part one.

pairing: hwang hyunjin x f!reader

genre: vampire au

warnings: smoking, assault, little bit gory

masterlist

playlist

──────────────────────

Stood up…again. That sickening and now very known feeling in the chest created another crack in your already shattered heart. You felt like a total fool. Why can’t you just get over the fact that maybe being a lover girl in this century wasn’t the right way to go. Oh, how much you wished to be more like your friend Mia. Just living in the moment, not worrying about the men and women you had in the past and only wondering who will be next.

Truth to the word is that love comes when you are least expecting it but you do overthink everything. Every occurrence with someone–hell even a stupid eye contact makes you think about the future you could have with a literal stranger. However you already set the bar low enough, it hit the ground a long time ago. Looks didn’t even matter anymore, if they just showed interest and knew how to act like a normal human being was enough for you. Your overthinking can do the rest but today it surely ‘did a good job’.

You met this guy just yesterday at the grocery shop, so romantic but you weren’t asked on a date like in forever so it was quite exciting. He wasn’t even that bad looking — short dirty blond hair, broad shoulders and fairly tall…The wandering eyes of his on your chubbier figure surely could be overlooked. It wasn’t like you hated your figure but seeing someone openly checking you out like that was a first and it made you feel wanted, so you went for it.

Well…it didn’t go as well as you thought it would as now you were sitting on a small bench in the middle of the night all by yourself. You shouldn’t have talk about him to your friend Mia, seeing that when you would talk about some potential love interest they would right after suddenly change their whole behavior, only leaving you feeling disappointed and embarrassed.

Date was at 6 p.m at this small Italian restaurant and by quarter to seven with no sight of your date and no text saying that he was running late, you learned that maybe your date was cancelled. At least the food and wine was good enough to hide your disappointment for awhile but after the third glass you felt like breaking down.

A 24 year old woman and no experience. Even the kids’ siblings you babysat had more experience with dating. You knew that by having no experience isn’t something to be ashamed of but you felt like you were missing out on life…

You took another drag of your cigarette, ignoring the coldness of the bench beneath you. You could at this point get a cat and become one of those rich cool aunts that traveled all around the world but reality hits you right there. No siblings, no parents and also being a hopeless romantic couldn’t help you become someone you knew you never will be.

You actually rarely felt sad about having no one from your own blood. As long as you could remember Mia was everything you had and needed and Mia’s parents gave you everything and more. You don’t even know how you became friends, all you knew was that you two have an unbreakable bond and couldn’t wish for anyone else.

You smiled at the thought of your friend. Maybe you don’t even need anyone but there was still a feeling like a piece of missing puzzle was somewhere out there to fulfill you. You shook your head and laughed at your own thought. Atleast no one was out at this hour, basking in the silence.

Seeing that you almost finished your cigarette, you stood up and dust of your white chiffon dress. If your friend saw you she would probably shoved that cancer stick right down your throat. You didn’t even smoked that much, a one cigarette after a while (a whole pack) can’t hurt nobody.

The starry night today was awfully pretty and made your attention shift to its dazzling beauty. Walking few steps, you leaned over the brick wall of of the bridge you walked your whole live on. This small stone bridge was built in Middle Ages and from that moment it connected the two sides of the town in one. Wrapping your lips around the cigarette, holding it between your pointer and index finger you watched as the smoke mixed in with the light fog of this cold spring evening.

Thanks to the alcohol, you didn’t even felt the cold seeping under the skirt of your dress that much. Last drag and then finally putting out the cigarette on the cold stone, you watched again how the smoke from your cherry colored lips danced through the night but suddenly your vision caught something way more interesting.

A man dressed in dark clothes was leaning against a stone railing few feet below her. You didn’t even know how you could see him because he was perfectly blending in with the darkness of the night. From where you were standing, you could make out that he had longer black hair, one side tuck behind his ear which was decorated by a small earring that twinkled in the moonlight. In his hands was a notebook, scribbling down something. You quickly learned that he was drawing the waters of the quiet river he softly lift his gaze to every now and then.

You lost yourself in his smooth movements and captivating beauty. Even by being far from this man, you could confidently say that he was one of the most beautiful creatures you have ever seen. His other hand caressed the paper like it was the soft skin of a lover, fingers decorated by multiple rings. You were in a trance, watching him draw, you could even hear the light scratching of his pencil against the page and then…a sudden movement of his makes your breath get stuck in your throat. As his gaze again went to the illuminated river, he suddenly tilted his head in your direction.

You were now met with a pair of blue eyes, so blindingly pale blue that seemed to look right through you. You were right…that man was beautiful. From his piercing eyes to his nose, strong jawline and perfect full red lips. He looked like an angel but by the look in his eyes, you felt like he was something completely different . He was dangerously beautiful.

Your heartbeat quickened as his glowing eyes slightly narrowed and then slowly trace over your features, just like yours did to him. You felt analyzed not only from the outside but also on the inside, almost waiting for his approval as he once again met your eyes in a burning stare that sent shivers down your spine. The look in his eyes changed. To what? You didn’t know but it made you feel uneasy.

His head turned suddenly to look behind him. Confused, you take a look in the same direction and after just a small moment of waiting, loud voices and laughter were heard as five men come up from the corner stumbling, they were certainly drunk. As you turn to glance back at the man, you were just openly gawking at you were only met with no one. It was like he wasn’t even there in the first place and you began thinking if maybe he was just fragment of your imagination after all.

Hearing and seeing the five men going closer, you decided to head back home. Turning on your heels, you began walking across the bridge to the other side. The streets were empty and it didn’t help that you lived quite far from where you were right now. A sudden feeling like you were being watched made you quickly look over your shoulder and learning that your were right about your theory.

Those same men were just few meters behind you and if you didn’t turn around, you wouldn’t know a thing because they suddenly became quiet, whispering to themself, their bickering blending into the light wind.

Your heart immediately sank, quickening your steps. ‘’Hey, you!’’ Echoes a voice from one of the men. You ignored it almost tripping from how fast you were now going. “Come on, pretty lady-‘’

Grabbing your bag in your hands, you fumble through it. “We just want to talk! And a girl shouldn’t be walking all alone in the middle of the night ya know..” Now the voices were too close to your liking. When you felt the pepper spray at the bottom of your bag, you grasped it and decided to do better and immediately take off running.

Your breathing become heavier as you heard sound of heavy footsteps from behind you. “Get back here!~” Today definitely couldn’t got any worse for you. Your ears ranged and legs screamed from your sudden burst of energy. Maybe this is a sign to work out more as you felt the irony taste in your mouth.

A sinister laughter echoed through the night making a small amount of tears well up in your eyes. You were too far from any house. Your feet hurt like hell and exhaustion slowly started to creep up to you, the cold air making you shiver as it kissed your reddened cheeks. Behind your blurry vision, you saw an open gate to a cemetery, quickly thinking of the risks you would have to make. It was dark and there was a chance hiding in the shadows…

Making a sharp turn to the left, you almost slipped through the open gate but a hand suddenly wrapped itself around your forearm tugging you to its owner. “Gotcha~” But before the man could finish, you turn your head away from him, spraying the contents of the pepper spray in to his eyes.

Screaming in pain, he let go of you, making you grasp the open side of the gate and smashing it into him making him tumble to the ground. You didn’t even look if there was a lock somewhere, seeing that the others weren’t that far from you and turning to run through the dark cemetery .

You tripped every step. You felt like one of those stupid girls in horror movies but it was so dark, you couldn’t see much of anything. When your line of vision caught a big gravestone, you cried up, there was no time to look for better hiding spot.

Falling onto your knees and squeezing yourself behind the big stone, you tried to calm down your racing heart and rigid breathing as it got eerily quiet. Pressing your upper back on the back of the gravestone, you pulled your legs up to your chest and prayed for your literal life. Your new dress was probably torn to shreds and dirty but you didn’t seem to care as your fear filled eyes stared into the darkness before you.

“Come out, come out wherever you are!”

“She can’t be far.”

“Look over there and I will~”

A small quiet sob flew past your lips, making you cover your mouth with your hand. This couldn’t be happening right now. They should’ve lost interest by now. ‘God why me?’, you thought, pressing the palm of your hand painfully onto your lips.

You heard snapping of twigs quite far from you but you still didn’t have the courage and strength to take it as a chance to escape and run and there was still chance someone was near you as there were five of them. The moon shined from behind you, making shadows that seemed even more scarier now because of your situation. Maybe a ghost or something would be better than this.

As your gaze burned the ground below you an unexpected shadow appeared on the ground. Your heart immediately sank. “There you are, pretty girl.” Whispered the new comer, making you immediately spring to your feet into the opposite direction but you were only caught by arms of a second man.

“No!~” You screamed into the night accompanied with laughter by the others. Trashing in the arms of the man, you screamed for help more and more as your blurry vision caught the other three men making their way to you.

The grip that man had you in was bruising, making you cry out in pain. You can’t just stop fighting…so the next thing you did was stomping your foot down on to the man’s foot. You couldn’t be more happy of deciding the last minute to wear heels as his grip loosened when your heel pierced his foot. Shoving yourself away from him, you ran, dugging right under pairs of arms that tried to caught you but you still didn’t make it far.

One of them made you trip over your feet. Falling so unexpectedly, you didn’t even have time to register anything in the dark, making you fall head first on a corner of a gravestone. A small cry came from your, gripping your throbbing head in your hands as your ears rang. Feeling yourself being grabbed at made you a little bit wake up from the small unconsciousness, swinging your arms widely and trying to hit anything you could reach but they were only caught in a painful grip.

Crying loudly you tried to wiggle away as you felt yourself being laid back on to the cold ground. Two of them quickly catch your legs mid air as you tried to atleast kick one of them. “No please~” You plead, feeling so stupid for even trying as they only laughed at you.

The one left that wasn’t holding any of your limbs, loomed over you, looking like a predator looming over his helpless pray. It was the one you pepper sprayed. Watching him as he took out a switchblade knife from his pocket made you for a moment stop your loud crying. “Scream and I cut you.” He said while going to his knees right between your legs. This can’t be it…

“Fucking bitch.” He says dragging the knife up your leg lifting your skirt with the sharp point, making you trash around a little in hopes of being spared. Your head fell onto the ground. You didn’t want to look down and have chance of seeing your assaulters or even to the side and seeing his accomplices’ sickening grins. For a moment you could only feel the stars and moon looking down at you. Oh, how much you wished to be as far away as them right now, trying so hard to ignore the sound of belt unbuckling.

“What~” That unexpected question came from your side, making you look in wonder and immediately a scream gets stuck in your throat.

The first thing you saw was red. Blood so bright that even in the pitch darkness you could see it covering your dress and lower body. Your assaulter with the knife was now held by the head as their newcomer had their mouth attached to his neck, watching as warm, crimson blood flowed freely from where they were contacted. The unknown person growled that sound so animalistic that it made goosebumps rise on the back of your neck.

As the body of the man fell limply to the ground you could finally see your so called ‘hero’. Before you stood the same man you saw under the bridge. The one whose beauty struck you as a lightning but right now you felt everything but admiration towards this man. Another–new and now even more strong wave of fear run though you as you look upon him.

His beautiful icy blue eyes were now red, pulsing blue and purple veins underneath his lower eyelashes that went across his cheekbones and his lips painted from the blood of his victim, made him look nightmarish. The crimson liquid dripped from his lips down to his chin and chest, seeping into his expensive looking dress shirt. The moonshine lightened his slim silhouette and his wild look in his eyes made them all see what…who the real danger truly is.

Shaking out of your trance, you felt yourself being grabbed at not so strongly as before. One of those men that kept your legs down, spring at your savior. But as quickly as he stood up the creature of the night grabbed him harshly by his neck, pinning him down and baring his sharp teeth at him. You, seeing a way out, took it and you definitely weren’t alone as the now only three men took of running with you. You choose the left side with one of those men and the other two right and as you turn to look back at them, those same men were stopped as now they were met with someone new.

A shorter man with sandy blonde hair stood before them and you must say, he was equally as beautiful as the other one. You stood frozen in your spot as the stranger with cold, almost bored looking eyes shoved both of his hands into those two grown men’s chests like it was nothing. Loudly gasping, you shrieked as now the man held their hearts in the palms of his hands, their bodies now an empty box, falling by his feet. You didn’t know what to do other than watch, frozen in horror, so you didn’t even see coming the only one man left, pauncing at you and grabbing you swiftly from the back and pressing the cold knife to your throat.

“Don’t come near me you fucking freaks!” Yells the man in your ear, now having both of theirs attention. Even breathing made the knife cut lightly the delicate skin of your neck.

But by a blink of an eye you were free, immediately falling to the ground as your own legs gave up on you in the same moment. You heard a short scream, followed by the loud sound of bones snapping, making your skin crawl. Crawling desperately away, you stopped at a tree that now seemed like the most supporting thing in this situation as you curled yourself up next to it. You couldn’t run, you knew that would be stupid. You got yourself from a dangerous situation and now you were in even bigger one. Bringing your knees to your chest, you sobbed. Never have you felt so afraid and useless. There wasn’t even a chance…so you did the only think you could. Plead.

“Please, I won’t say anything…please~” You say not looking up.

One of them slowly walk up to you, stopping right before you. You held your breath, quieting your sobs for a moment and peeking from behind your fingers to look at the boots of the same man that ripped someone’s heart right from their chest just seconds ago. “What do you want to do with her?” Spoke the man, his voice so calm almost soothing but his question for sure didn’t made you feel more relaxed.

Breathing through your nose heavily, you squeezed your eyes shut trying to imagine yourself anywhere else. Response wasn’t heard as the man whose beauty you so admired walk up to his company.

If you would be watching you could’ve seen looks being exchange between them.

The sandy blonde haired man grabbed the other by his arm stopping him from going any further to you. “If Chan hears about this, I will make sure to throw you into the dungeons myself.” Only a small smirk was send back his way.

You felt your body go stiff as someone crunched down before you, softly bringing their hand to the side of your face. Their touch was cold as ice and if you weren’t already freezing you would surely jump away.

Their fingers softly traced your face, stopping at your chin and slowly lifting your head. The same blue eyes you saw from before were now staring right into yours, noticing the subtle ring of red around the iris. You felt yourself drowning again in his beauty and strangely your breathing calmed down. You and the man look upon each other for a moment. His cold touch felt more like burning but you didn’t have the heart to pull away as this was probably the softest touch you have ever felt. “Please…” You didn’t even know for what you were pleading anymore.

His other hand, the hand decorated with those beautiful rings went to the other side of your face, having no other choice but to look back into his alluring eyes. “You will forget everything that happened tonight.” He whispered, his voice velvety and delicious to your ears. “From the moment you saw me to this very moment and go home.”

Your tear filled eyes look into his, watching his pupils grow in size with his every word. Just as quickly as he said those words, he was gone by a blink of an eye. So was his company, even the bodies of your assaulters were nowhere left to be seen. You swallowed the lump in your throat, not wanting to spend anymore time at this creepy cemetery. You stoop up on your shaking legs, surprised seeing your bag sitting right by your feet. You forgot about even loosing it. Bending over and grabbing it, you walked the way home and recalling his words in your head again.

“Forget…” The only thing was that you didn’t, not knowing the consequences that will come because of it.

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author’s note

So this is actually my first ever fanfic on tumblr as you can see. So I hope you like it and I just wanted to say that even studying English my whole life it’s still not my mother language so I’m sorry for any errors you come across.

I used to write a lot on wattpad but I don’t make anymore stories but still if you want to, you can check them out on: @Audrey_Holland

Thank you for reading, can’t wait for you guys to read the next chapters.

[wasawattpadkid]

Housewife

Part - 17

Summery: Billy and Stu have been planning these murders for quite some time. Everything is going to plan until you show up. What happens when they meet someone who is just as mentally deluded as they are?

Pairing: Poly! ghostface x fem!reader

Warnings for this series: ⚠️smut 18+⚠️murder, blood, smut (will be more in depth on smut chapters), power dynamics, a dash of sexism, knives, stalking, perverse behavior, cheating, blowjobs, handjob, fingering (fem! receiving) , pet names

A/N: if you saw this chapter when Tumblr decided to mess around and upload it early no you didn't 😌

Part 1

Billy and Stu would never admit you were right. No arguments, no fights, the dinner was good, and the sex was even better. Separating for a bit did nothing but improve the relationship that so quickly developed. It had been almost two weeks now. Stu came over regularly especially when your dad came home for a couple of days. He spent more time with your father than he did with you honestly. Surprisingly the boys didn't argue about who spent more time with who. They didn't want to mess up the good thing they had going.

Woodsboro High had thankfully calmed down. Of course, your sleeping habits were still being talked about. Some people even connected the dots on who you were prior to your move back. Billy did a good job of scaring people quiet.

As of now, the school knew you were off limits that didn't stop them from whispering though. For once in your life you didn't care. Chase and Linda did sit at the water fountain with you and the boys. It aggravated Billy that he didn't hate the two. Chase looked like a member of some shitty boy band but that's about all the kid had wrong with him.

Stu was happy having friends again. Linda and Stu did not get along. Something about him being too "ostentatious." Lucky for the boy he had no idea what the word meant. Chase enjoyed spending time with you and the guys. He thought Stu was hilarious but he couldn't get comfortable around Billy.

"Are you guys going to be at the party?" Chase asked again. He'd been bothering the three of you all week. "Isn't it a little early to be having a Halloween party?" You asked blocking your eyes from the sun. Stu was on board the moment he heard the word party. You and Billy however were hesitant to go out in such a scene. "I thought it'd be better to have it the last weekend of October." Billy's hand rested on your knee which you promptly removed.

He did stupid things like this anytime Chase was around. For someone who hated PDA, he sure was all over you when another guy was around. "We'll think about it," Billy spoke wanting the couple to leave. "Cool, I'll see you guys there. Y/n you've got my address?" You nodded earning a stern look from your boyfriends. Chase and Linda walked back over to their spot leaving the three of you by the fountain. "Before you say anything he gave me his address on a piece of paper yesterday for the party." You held up your hand keeping Billy quiet.

"We should go. I mean it's a costume party nobody has to know it's us." Stu's smile became somewhat sinister. The boy leaned down next to Billy whispering in his ear. "We could bring back our costumes..." You jumped when Billy pushed his friend back almost landing him in the water. "Are you fucking insane?" Billy asked with utter confusion. "What are you two bitching about now?" You asked before taking a bite of your lunch. "Go ahead tell her your genius plan." Billy held out his arm encouraging his partner. Stu leaned down whispering something similar to you.

"Are you trying to get us caught?" You snapped quietly making Billy smile. "At least someone here has some common sense." Stu huffed thinking you two were overreacting. "Everyone's going to be dressed up as Ghostface. I don't see why I can't have fun." Even if everyone was dressed up as the infamous killer that didn't mean it was a good idea for you to do the same. "That's exactly why we shouldn't go. Aren't we supposed to be traumatized?" Billy asked slightly mocking your overly cautious behavior. "Oh please," You scoffed making the boy laugh. "Stu if you really want to go I'll go with you but no Ghostface costume."

"The case was closed I don't get why you still have your panties up in a bunch. Both of you." Stu looked between you and Billy as his lover flipped him off with a fake smile. You wanted to be as carefree as they were but you couldn't bring yourself to do it. All three of you were criminals. Case closed or not. You couldn't be too careful in a situation like this. "Says the asshole who has literally worn panties." Your face scrunched as you looked over at Stu. "I was curious! There's nothing wrong with a little self-expression man." You opened your mouth to speak but words simply didn't come out.

"As much as this conversation is really turning me on we need to talk about this party." Stu smiled at your sarcasm. "Can I wear a mask?" He asked happily. "With a face like that you need to." Billy muttered making you elbow his side. "Bitch." He mumbled rubbing the now sore spot with a laugh. Stu smiled at his lovers. It really was a miracle things worked out. Billy was slowly becoming the boy he fell in love with in the first place. You seemed to get more comfortable as well. It took awhile but you adapted to the dynamic between the two men. Insults and name calling was a just a cover up for the love the three of you shared.

"Great because I already have a Myers costume I've been dying to wear." Billy looked up with intrigue. Neither of you knew about the outfit. "You bought a Michael Myers costume and didn't show me? Even after you made me watch all the movies?" The offense in your voice was comical to Stu. "It was supposed to be a surprise. What are you going to wear?" Stu gestured over to you with his head. "Well since we like keeping secrets you'll just have to wait. It's a surprise." You flicked the tip of his nose as your finished your sentence.

"What are you wearing?" You turned towards Billy. "Who said I was going?" He spoke already aware that if you and Stu went he was sure to follow. You liked to think you were the smartest person out of the three but if you and Stu were involved nothing good was bound to happen. "I did so what are you wearing?" Billy didn't have a costume. He debated on even wearing one to the party. "You could dress up as Glen from Nightmare On Elm Street." Stu bounced his eyebrows up and down suggestively. "If you think I'm wearing a crop top you're mistaken." Your face lit up at the idea. "Woah woah, what would it take for you to wear that? Asking for a friend." You laughed making Billy smile.

"It would take a lot more than you could give me." Billy tapped your cheek shaking his head. He thought about his closet at home trying to run through the possible costumes. "Do you have face paint?"

He asked seriously making both you and Stu chuckle. "You won't wear a crop top but you'll do yourself up like RuPaul. Got it." You pursed your lips not wanting to encourage Stu. "I said face paint dipshit, not makeup." Slowly you turned towards Stu giving him a look. Before you could figure out anything else the bell rang meaning all three of you were about to be late for class.

With quick goodbyes and see you laters everyone went their separate way. The day was slow mostly because you were counting down the minutes until 7th period. It was nice having a class with Billy. If you didn't want to be bothered he'd leave you alone. If you wanted to ignore the teacher and waste time he was also the guy to go to. You couldn't begin to imagine how a class with Stu would go.

"You'll have an exam Monday. You need to study this weekend or you won't pass." The teacher spoke as she wiped down the chalkboard. Some kids groaned while others just packed up their things. "What time is the party?" Billy asked picking up his notebook and binder. You couldn't remember if Chase said eight or nine. "Eight I think don't quote me on it."

Billy followed you to your locker watching as you put away your things. "I'll meet you and Stu by your car." With a nod from you, he carried his things across the hall.

They gave you space by moving back to their respective houses. School was a different story. By now it didn't matter the whole school knew you three were inseparable. If Billy and Stu weren't together then one of them was with you. It was rare someone saw one of you walking alone. It made you feel safe in a way.

Stu was already leaning on your car waiting for his two favorite people to show up. "Have I told you how beautiful you look today?" He asked popping a piece of candy into his mouth. "You have. Almost four times now." Stu could be repetitive but everyone knew you ate up the attention. "Well, I'll make it five. You look beautiful Mrs. Crocker. When we get married will you take my last name or will I get Crocker?" Your eyes grew wide at the silly question. "What-"

"I'm going to stop by my house and pick up some clothes do either of you need anything while I'm out?" Billy asked ending the conversation between you and Stu. "I'm good." You spoke throwing your purse into your car. "I don't think so. You taking me to my place so I can grab my costume?" Stu asked the boy who constantly drove him around. "You're paying for gas." Stu balled up his fist in celebration. "I guess while you two are gone I'll get my stuff together."

"Are we meeting up at our house afterwards?" The way Stu called your house "ours" never failed to make you smile. "Yeah, we'll have to if I'm doing his makeup." Billy shot you a look. "Sorry sorry, face paint." You made air quotations around the words just to tease him. "We shouldn't be too long." Billy motioned for Stu to start walking toward his car. "Okay drive safe!" You shouted towards both boys. Stu turned around sticking his tongue out at you. A smile played at your lips as you had flashbacks of nights previous.

You drove home listening to a Jackson 5 tape that was obviously well-loved. The watch on your wrist read 3:30 as you stepped out of the car. You had plenty of time to dig up the old outfit crammed in the back of your closet.

Part of you did want to go out and have fun but something told you not to go. You wouldn't have even thought about going if it wasn't for Billy and Stu. In some stupid way, you wanted to show off the boys. You told your boyfriends one thing but secretly you loved when people's eyes were on you. Good or bad you were occupying their minds and with two men by your side you felt safe. Those insignificant assholes couldn't hurt you anymore. Male validation was something you should probably see someone about with how bad it was. It didn't quite make sense to you. Why would you crave something from the people who hurt you the most? You didn't need to be loved by everyone but you couldn't be hated by anyone.

The Halloween costume was never worn. You bought it last year but with your lack of friends, you had nowhere to wear it. At least now you could feel like it was money well spent. Once you laid out every piece of the set you tried it all on. The knee-high fishnets were scandalous but paired with the maid ensemble it was downright sinful. You turned around making sure the dress covered everything it needed to. The fabric fell to the middle of your thighs. However, your chest was more exposed than usual.

It was a startling change but that's what Halloween was for. It was the one night of the year you could be someone completely different. It was five o'clock before the boys pulled into the driveway.

"What's up, Dewey?" Stu called out seeing the deputy sit on his porch. The boy didn't like the way the officer stared at him as if he'd done something wrong. He knew he did but that was for him and his accomplices to know. Not the town deputy. Dewey squinted at the two men. He had seen them both come and go never staying too long to his knowledge. He felt like a creep staring but he was concerned for you. Something was off about those kids. Especially since Stu showed up with a blood-splattered Halloween mask. "Stu come on." Billy scolded pushing the boy towards the door. "Have a good night Deputy." Billy waved with a smile that Dewey could only describe as disturbing.

"You trying to get our asses busted?" Billy spoke knocking on the front door. "Well, he's got a staring problem." Stu shrugged. "Maybe because you're covered in blood?" Billy looked him up and down with a stern expression. "At least it's fake this time." He mumbled before you opened the door. Stu had the plan to yell and scare you but once he saw what you were wearing plans changed. "Sorry it took me a second to get down here I was working on my makeup." Both boys looked at you like they'd never seen you before. "Fuck..." Stu spoke in a low tone but it became even lower due to the mask over his face.

The blood-stained mask and coveralls were doing something to you that you couldn't quite describe. He slowly titled his head as his eyes continued to scan every inch of your body. The gesture made heat flood your skin. "What are you supposed to be?" Billy asked his demeanor was softer than you thought it'd be. "I'm Magenta from Rocky Horror!" You chirped spinning around for the men. Your dress rode up just a little when you spun letting them see the bottom of your black lace underwear. Billy couldn't be trusted alone with you right now dressed the way you were. He sure as hell hated the idea of you being around a bunch of other people.

You took a moment to look at Billy's outfit. His tight black shirt was torn with several bullet-shaped holes in the fabric. What really surprised you though were the black leather pants that left almost nothing to the imagination. His abdomen was wrapped with what looked like duct tape. If Stu's outfit hadn't already turned you on then Billy's certainly did.

"Um... What- who are you dressed as? " The words tumbled from your lips making Stu smile. He enjoyed the effect they had on you. Billy was too occupied with his thoughts to hear what you said or how you said it. "He's The Crow. We brought the tape over so you could see how to do his face." Billy handed you the VHS tape never taking his eyes off you. "Oh.." The makeup was bound to make him ten times hotter. "You can't do it?" He asked as he walked into the house with Stu in tow. "No, I can do it. Yeah no not a problem." You cursed yourself for sounding the way you did. Stu was getting a kick out of seeing you so excited. He pulled off his mask sitting it on your couch.

Both men sat their combat boots near the door as you grabbed both of them a drink. You desperately needed anything cold. "Thanks, baby." Stu said but his words were deep. You swallowed what little spit coated your mouth nervously. "Yep." You responded quickly. He raised up smacking your ass with a smile. "Watch it." You scolded playfully. You handed Billy his drink but he sat it on the counter. "You look so... different."

Billy focused on your makeup. Your face was a shade lighter than usual. The red and black eyeshadow that circled your eyes made you almost look dead. Your stained red lips were the focal point of the look. The drastic difference in your normal appearance was erotic but it made him appreciate your joyful everyday attire even more. This wasn't you, he could tell by the way you carried yourself. The gaze the two men held on you made you feel like the sexiest woman on earth but Billy knew once that initial high wore off the revealing clothes would make you self-conscious.

"Do you like it?" You asked the boys holding out your arms. "I love it, Y/n." Stu used your name in a way you hadn't heard before, not from him. He wanted to make a funny comment about how you look better naked but he didn't want to cheapen the moment. "Where'd you get this?" Billy picked at the dress curiously.

"I bought it last year for Halloween but I didn't get the chance to wear it." You kept the pathetic details to yourself. A small smile played on Billy's lips. "So we're the first ones to see you in this?" His eyes looked up to meet yours. "The only ones."

The fact stirred something inside both men. You cleared your throat scared of the sexual tension that fogged up the room. "If we're going to that party I need to do your face." You avoided the word "make-up" the best you could. "Can you do my face too honey?" Stu pouted. You laughed at the action. "What do you want me to do?" The innocent question made him almost chuckle. Before he could say "sit on it" you held up your hand realizing your mistake. "Nevermind don't answer that. Make yourself at home while I work on him." You grabbed Billy's hand pulling him upstairs. He sent Stu a look getting an eye roll in return.

You set the VHS tape on your bathroom sink next to the large bag of makeup. Most of which you rarely ever used. "This isn't going to stain is it?" Billy picked up the tube of white you used on yourself just a while ago. "If it does we're both screwed." You laughed but Billy looked genuinely scared.

"No, it doesn't stain." He didn't seem completely convinced. "You don't have to wear face paint. You look great already." You ran your hand along his arm appreciating the outfit for a second time. He couldn't worry about the makeup if he was too worried about the way your fingers danced across his skin. Distracting a man was easy. "I look great?" He asked the compliment went straight to his head. You leaned up pressing a kiss against his lips. Thankfully you wore transfer-proof lipstick. "You look wonderful." You spoke before setting out the black and white makeup. A smile appeared on his face at your words.

You grabbed some hair clips pinning back the hair that fell over his face. "Now you look adorable." You laughed as he scrunched his nose at his reflection. "Don't say I don't care about you. I wouldn't let anyone else do this to me." Now that you believed. "Ooh, I feel special." You joked squirting out some of the white foundation on the back of your hand. "You are." He said looking into your eyes. You gulped shaking your head.

"Smooth Casanova." You smacked his shoulder before taking a brush to the foundation. "Now stay still I don't want to mess up." He had no intention of following your instructions. "Okay."

You started to smear the cream on his cheek slowly spreading it around. The sensation was odd to Billy. He didn't hate it but it wasn't something he'd willingly do again. His eyes traced your features. The way your tongue stuck out in concentration was more than adorable. Every time you moved a shadow would cover his face making it hard to see. "Hold on." You struggled to position him in a way where you could see. "Here," Billy spoke before lifting you to sit on the sink. There was no way it couldn't support your weight but still, you had a habit of overthinking.

"What if this breaks under me? Are you going to fix it?" His hands gripped your bare thighs keeping you still. "It won't now keep going." He said as he closed his eyes. You fought the urge to chew on your lip. Billy stood between your legs basking in the white light coming from above your mirror. It was an intimate act one that did nothing but make you want to stay home. You continued to paint his face making sure the white stopped at the bottom of his jaw like the picture on the back of the tape. At some point, Billy started to like the feeling. Not of the makeup necessarily but more of the feeling of you touching his face. Your movements were precise and careful he didn't have to open his eyes to know that.

You had seen what he was capable of. How horrible of a person he could be. Yet you were careful not to hurt him. Even with a brush that had passed your skin a million times, you traced his face like it might pierce the cream-covered flesh. You found it cute how he started to subconsciously lean into your touch. It made your job harder but you wouldn't tell him to do any different.

Billy's thumbs started to rub against your fishnets absentmindedly. The simple act didn't bother him any but it made a world of difference to you. No longer could you focus on the task at hand. Once the white covered his face you grabbed a makeup palette that held the darkest black you owned. Billy opened his eyes slightly taken aback by the mime look he had going on. "Jesus-" He said making you laugh. "Don't look yet I'm not done!" He closed his eyes trying to hide his smile. As you caked the black makeup on his eyes he raised his eyebrows almost ruining your progress. "Stop." You poked his side making him laugh. You had found out just a few days ago that he was ticklish. He gave you no choice but to use it against him.

Carefully you ran the brush down his cheek dragging the eyeshadow in a straight line. After that was done you did the same thing upwards. You blew the fallout off his face making his nose twitch.

"I asked you earlier if you needed me to pick up anything while I was out. You could've said you needed breath mints." He almost crumbled when your hand poked harshly at his side. His laughter could be heard all the way downstairs. "Apologize." You commanded smiling at his pained laughs. The only time you considered yourself a sadist is when it came to fucking with Billy. Stu and you shared that hobby. "Kiss my ass." He heaved only making you poke harder. Billy twisted with joyful agony. "I'm sorry!" He breathed making you remove your hand. "Good boy." You patted his head obviously teasing him. It was a joke but your words twisted his stomach more than your assault did.

"Now straighten up so I can finish I'm almost done." His eyes didn't bother looking up at his reflection. He was too busy looking at you wondering why you'd say that to him. He also wondered why the fuck he liked it so much. Makeup and now some strange form of submission, God his dad would kill him if he saw him now. His mother would probably disown him if she hadn't already. "Open your mouth."

You expected a snarky comment but it never came. His lips parted letting you do whatever you had in mind. You picked up your eyeliner lining his lips with the jet-black color. Afterward, you applied chapstick on his lips making sure to get plenty on before grabbing the black eyeshadow once more. With your ring finger, you dabbed the color onto his shiny lips. Once his lips were covered you blended it all together careful not to let it bleed.

"Don't move." You leaned over grabbing a piece of toilet paper. Gingerly you patted the paper against his lips picking up the extra product. The last thing you needed to do was draw a line coming from the corners of his mouth. You looked at each line making sure they were straight. "We're done- oh wait." You pulled the clips from his hair letting it hang defiantly in front of his face. "Look!" You cheered happily proud of your work. Billy finally looked up surprised by the person he saw in the mirror. He looked like a total badass but he felt like the complete opposite.

Stu made his way up the stairs getting lonely and curious once he heard Billy laugh. Swiftly he opened the bathroom door making both you and Billy look up at the man. The intrusion made you think you'd been caught doing something wrong. "God damn..." Stu spoke looking at his boyfriend. The makeup was perfect.

Seeing the two of you there, Billy positioned between your thighs was something he wanted tattooed on him. "How does he look?" You asked knowing exactly what Stu was thinking. Both of you shared a special friendship outside of your relationship. You talk to each other about Billy like he was a crush you both had. He loved to gossip and you loved to talk. It was perfect really.

"Does that stuff stain?" Stu asked stepping into the bathroom walking towards Billy. "Nope." You reassured not knowing if it did or not. "Thank fuck." He said before grabbing the boy forcing his lips on his. One of Billy's hands stayed on your thigh as the other grasped Stu's waist.

Something had to have gotten into him. It was probably the fumes from your makeup. He'd never let Stu just grab him like that. Even on the days when they were both insatiable, he put Stu in his place. You watched as Stu yanked on his lover's hair. Billy's frame stopped you from squeezing your legs together. Something you desperately needed to do. Billy softly moaned into Stu's mouth letting his tongue roam around the makeup-covered boy. You could see the black smearing across Stu's lips. There went your hard work but you couldn't care less. Billy's hand ran down Stu's coveralls quickly finding his growing bulge.

As Billy rubbed against Stu his other hand crept up your thigh rubbing softly against your clothed cunt. For a moment you forgot how to breathe. Stu let go of Billy's hair moving his hands to quickly unfasten the buttons that littered his chest. If he would've known how hard this outfit was to take off he wouldn't have worn it.

He still had his costume from when he and Billy dressed up as Bill and Ted for Halloween. That would've been an easier alternative. Finally, there was enough room for Billy to slip his hand beneath the fabric of his briefs. "You look so hot right now." Stu rasped against his lover's lips. Praise was something Stu loved to give you had learned that very quickly. Although the few times he tried it with Billy the man quickly shut it down.

This time however Billy didn't stop him. If his hand wasn't wrapped around his cock right now Stu would've paid more attention to the change in behavior. Billy pulled his hand away to spit in his palm. His lips quickly returned to Stu's as his hand stroked his partner's cock making sure to cover his shaft with his spit.

You watched their every move trying to focus but Billy's hand between your thighs made it incredibly difficult. His fingers pulled your panties to the side before sliding up and down your folds. He smiled into his kiss at how wet you already were.

Without hesitation, his two fingers pushed into you curling upwards as they moved. "Oh!" You called gripping the man's wrist. Billy's hand sped up as he pumped Stu's cock. Every little moan that left Stu's mouth made Billy throb against his tight leather pants. "That's so good right there." Stu continued to encourage Billy wondering how far he could go until he was forced to his knees. Billy just moaned getting off on his lover's words. "Babe!" Your back lurched as his fingertips prodded a certain spot within you. He poked and massaged that spongy spot feeling you spasm around his fingers.

Billy's thumb began to rub what he thought were circles over your clit. The erratic shapes made your abdomen tighten. Stu started to thrust into Billy's hand forcing his movements to be more aggressive. Stu tugged on Billy's bottom lip earning something similar to a whimper for the usually dominant male.

You were going to warn Billy that you couldn't do this much longer but before you could form the words your whole body convulsed. "That was too easy," Billy said turning his head towards you watching you grip the counter. Your orgasm hit so hard you had to wonder where you were for a moment. It had never been so easy and definitely never that quick.

"Excuse me." You said politely before sliding off the sink counter. Both men watched as you sunk to your knees in front of them. Billy's cock was visible through his leather pants down to the veins. You licked a stipe against the fabric getting a shaky moan in return. Billy continued to pump Stu's cock while you pulled him from his confines. With no prep work, you wrapped your lips around his tip. Billy's head fell back as your tongue circled the warm flesh. A bead of precum sat along his slit before you smeared the liquid with your tongue. Stu watched you greedily take Billy's cock with a little jealousy.

It was like you could read his mind. Your free hand replaced Billy's on Stu's cock. Stu inched closer letting you easily lick both of them. While your mouth covered one your hand would pump the other. Out of the corner of your eye, you could see them holding hands. You tried not to smile given the fact your lips were locked around Stu.

The pigment on the inside of your lips slowly stained the base of each of their cocks. Apparently, transfer-proof lipstick wasn't made to stay on during such an act. The tips of their cocks rubbed against each other as your tongue traced patterns over both of them. Stu tried to hold off but it all quickly became too much for him. Cum slowly spilled from him filling your mouth as some fell to the floor. Billy watched you hold your mouth open for Stu and the sight made his vision blur. With a strained moan he came shooting even more cum into your mouth. At that point, you had no choice but you stand up spitting the mouthful into the sink.

You felt a little bad thinking every woman was supposed to swallow. Neither of them cared. If anything seeing the aftermath running down your chin could easily get them going for a second round. Stu heaved trying to compose himself. Billy kept his eyes closed scared if he opened them he'd fall over. "Was that okay?" You asked looking at your boyfriends. Stu honestly wanted to shake you for asking such a dumb question. "The day I say no I want you to take me out back and shoot me you understand? And take that asshole too because I'm not letting him have you to himself." Stu's breath was labored but it didn't make his statement any less comedic.

"Fuck you." Billy huffed at Stu with a dopey smile on his face. Stu was the first to properly fix his clothes. You were busy trying to clean up your face dreading fixing Billy's.

Stu sat on the lip of the bathtub as you fixed Billy's face. You had to completely wash everything off from his nose down. The whole time Billy had a sated smile on his face. You thought Stu could wash off his face but no, he would rather have you do it. "Me next!" He jumped up like he was chosen for the price is right. Billy admired himself in the mirror. He was aware of the fact he was attractive he quite often used it to his advantage. Having his face covered and looking completely different than usual made him feel better. It was a refreshing change. The look wasn't scary considering you and Stu found it attractive. It was a shame he could only do this once a year.

"There, now I've got to fix my own makeup." You gently pushed Stu out of the way. "Can I do it?" He asked making Billy shake his head with a quiet laugh.

"What, my makeup?" Stu nodded his head up and down eagerly. You looked at your reflection seeing that the only thing that was messed up was your lipstick. "Sure just be careful." Stu grabbed the tube of lipstick you handed to him studying the red color. Stu cupped your face as you parted your lips. He slowly dragged the pigment over your lips making sure to stay between the lines. Stu pulled back looking at his work. "Hand me a piece of toilet paper so I can blot." His eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "I have to get the excess off so it doesn't move around and it dries faster." Stu made a noise understanding what you meant. He handed you the paper watching curiously as you pressed your lips against the paper.

"Alright, what time is it?" You asked checking yourself in the mirror one more time. Billy stepped into your bedroom reading the clock out loud. "It's 7:23." The party started at eight so you had plenty of time. "Oh, I need someone to help wrap my arms," Billy said as he went downstairs for his roll of duct tape. "Wrap his arms?"

You turned to Stu. "It's part of the costume. You'll have to watch the movie, he's seen it a million times. I think it's whiny." Stu shrugged before leaving the bathroom. You followed the men downstairs deciding to leave your purse at home.

"You have your wallet right?" Billy nodded. "Never leave without it." He pulled the square from his back pocket. "Okay well, I'm leaving my purse so someone else is driving." Stu turned around quickly. "Not my car." He frowned. "You suck." He spat playfully. "We know that," Billy mumbled earning a laugh from Stu as he pointed towards you. "I'll remember that next time. Let's see whose knees are sore after I stop putting out." Billy looked over at Stu while you mocked the boy's flamboyant behavior. "You know I can't even argue with that. I can say however that my head game is better."

Billy handed you the roll of tape staying out of this conversation. He pointed to where the tape needed to go. As you wrapped his forearm you responded to Stu. "Why is that?" You asked. Billy knew better than to complain or critique anything he was getting for free.

"Cause I'm a man duh. I mean I have a dick so I know my way around one." He threw himself down on the couch next to his mask. "You can't even brush your teeth without gagging." You added running a piece of tape around his thumb. Billy nodded agreeing with that fact. "He's not used to brushing his teeth that's all." You laughed at Billy's joke. "Eat my ass! I brush my teeth almost once a day." Billy pointed at the man with his thumb as you wrapped his other arm. "Almost?" The concern in your voice mixed with fear.

"I get busy." He tried to defend himself but it didn't help. "At least I wash my hair. Billy's got pomade from last week sitting in his hair." Once again he threw his friend under the bus. "You're not supposed to wash your hair every day it make it dry. There's a reason I don't have dandruff." At this point, you wanted to block out their conversation.

"Both of you are mildly disgusting but I prefer greasy hair to bad breath." You finished wrapping Billy's other arm after you spoke. "Hey! I use mouthwash." You almost rubbed your face before you remembered your makeup. With a sigh, you walked to the front door. "Let's just go before I break up with both of you nasty asses."

Part 18

Taglist (closed): @katie-tibo @agustdeeyaa @bowlofceral @gonnapermashift @tati-the-fangirl @kozumewhore @tatijoestar @illyanam1011 @c4rved-pumpk1n @msghostface @gojosbucket @sammanna @lokigirlszendaya @reneki @fetusharryluvr @kadu-5607 @pumpk1n-writes @lovekeeho @zeysartzone @life-of-music3 @flyestvenustrap @littleblondesoprano @loomiscorpse @nicciekawegosblog @reneemunson @miss-puregotti @ksgsfsgaj @zoleea-exultant @briefwinnerpersonaturtle @mistydreamscape @l4venderia @nex-crowley @ashreblogsnow @brynaa223 @your-desire666 @billyloomiswhore4 @holyladyofsorrows @megluv1 @ellieswifeiya @yoluvrz @forallthstarsinthesky @madsothree @youcantbesirius @lubunnii @captainhowdysseptum @geekygremlin @madneedshelp

[wolfjackle-creates]

Ghost!Robin Part 7

All right! Here's part 7. I hope you enjoy. I don't think I really have any opening notes to go over this time, so I'll just leave it there. Check out the ask game I posted yesterday if you're interested.

This week you get a bit more than usual at 1.6k words.

First, Previous

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“What was that you meant about me being Jazz’s second dead boyfriend?”

Over his surprised laughter, he heard Jazz’s groan from across the hall. Yeah, he really did like Jason more than Johnny.

“One of my former rogues, Johnny 13, pretended to be human and started dating Jazz for a period. He was trying to mold her body into a vessel for his equally dead girlfriend Kitty. He had a similar bad-boy vibe to you but was actually awful. We might be cool now, but I’m still pissed he did that.”

Jason blinked at him before a slow grin took over his face. “So Jazz has a history of bad choices, does she? She always acts like she’s always had it together.”

“Oh definitely not. No child raised by our parents could have it always together.”

“Jazz refuses to talk about your parents, will you tell me what they did?”

Before Danny could answer, Jazz shouted his name. “Danny! If you’re done apologizing to Jason, start helping me explain!”

Danny rolled his eyes to Jason. “Later, I suppose. Duty calls! Come on, you’ve got to have a lot of questions, dead boyfriend number two, and yours will get priority answers.”

Jason’s surprised laugh made him grin despite the deepening glares of the other Waynes.

Surprisingly, it was Duke who blurted out a question in a high, freaked-out voice first. “Why do you have a crown?”

Danny, who’d turned and took all of one step in the direction of the dining hall, paused and turned back around. “How can you see that?” And then he realized the ground was still littered with broken glass and ceramics. “Never mind. Later. Let me clean up the broken glass and stuff first. Least I can do.”

Bruce’s hand landed heavy on his shoulder. “No. You will answer our questions now.”

Danny rolled his eyes. “Yeah, no. Look, the short of it is that I died when I was fourteen because I was stupid. It didn’t take and now I’m only half dead. I have a ghost form and a human form and all the standard ghost powers. The main ones being invisibility”—he turned invisible for a moment—“intangibility”—Bruce’s hand fell through his shoulder—“and gravity manipulation.” He raised in the air until he was floating a foot above the floor. “I also have some more unique powers, such as ice.” With a wave of his hand, ice grew around the shards of glass.

Alfred and Duke quickly backed away from the mess, but once every piece of broken china was encased, the ice stopped growing.

“So, if you’ll just tell me where I can dispose of the shards, I’ll be happy to do it. And this way no one has to be at risk of hurting themselves cleaning broken glass. Plus I got up all the fine powder, too. No little bits that can barely be seen but will fuck up your vacuum cleaner.”

“A handy skill,” said Alfred before anyone else could speak. “I will lead you to the bins.” To the rest of the group, he said, “Jason, would you and Duke collect the desserts from the kitchen and set up the dining room? As it appears we are all allies here, there is no reason to have this conversation standing in a hallway when we could have it sitting down with good food.”

“Alfred—” started Bruce.

Only to be cut off by the butler. “Master Bruce, I will be quite safe with the young man, I am sure of it. Jason’s… ghost has explained a few things already.” Only the slight pause before the word ghost betrayed that the man wasn’t entirely at ease.

Tim stepped forward. “Let me come with you both, Alfred?”

With a put upon sigh, the man agreed. “Very well, Master Tim, if you must. Mr. Danny, please follow me.”

“Yes, sir.” Danny followed obediently, the ice floating along behind him with barely a thought.

“You don’t need to make any sort of gesture to control the ice?” asked Tim.

Danny shook his head. “Nah. It’s my ice. It’ll do what I want it to. Most ghost powers are based on thought and emotion, honestly.” They took another turn. His castle didn’t even have this many hallways.

“So when you said the ghosts in Amity, you meant that literally.” Tim acted like it was a revelation.

“Of course I did. Shortly after my accident, ghosts started attacking on a regular basis. Took years for me to get things under control and by that point I’d already failed out of high school.”

“But if it was so hard… why didn’t you call the Justice League?”

Danny threw back his head and gave a hysterical laugh. “And then have to fight an overshadowed Superman? Or, worse yet, speedster? No. No thank you. Never. A representative of Justice League Dark stopped by about six or eight months after I got my powers and I told him to keep everyone out of my haunt. He gave me a phone number in case I came across something I couldn’t handle. But I kept being able to handle it, so I never used the number.”

“Overshadowed?” asked Alfred, “I do not believe we know that term. Ah, here we are.” He opened a door that led outside to a drive where a collection of garbage bins sat. “That container there”—he pointed—“is for glass recycling. Will the ice leave the bin filled with water?”

“Not at all. It’ll be completely gone.” Danny had the ice hover over the bin and made it disappear slowly enough that the shards were released without any falling outside the container. No water remained to show how he had transported them.

“Thank you very much, Mr. Danny. Now, overshadowing?” he asked as he held the door open for the boys to precede him inside.

“Oh, um. It’s like possession. Ghosts can take over a living being’s body. But when we do, we don’t have access to memories or knowledge or anything. And after the ghost leaves, the human just doesn’t remember anything from the time they were overshadowed.”

“And is this another of those basic ghost powers you have?” Tim’s voice was hard.

“Yes,” Danny answered simply. “It feels gross, though, and I’ve only done it a handful of times. Ever. First on my dad to get out of some school trouble, but I kept making things worse. After that on my friends and Jazz, with permission, so we could document limitations and if it hurt humans. Far as we could tell, it doesn’t.”

“You sound like a very conscientious young man. I have no doubt you use your powers responsibly.”

Danny laughed. “I screwed up more than a few times before I found ghost mentors. And ghosts are always a little chaotic, so some messing around is not only expected but encouraged.”

Alfred smiled. “I’m sure we will love hearing some of those stories as we get to know you and Ms. Jasmine better.”

“I can’t… I can’t tell you everything. There’s far too much and so much of it just doesn’t matter on Earth that it’d be pointless to go into.”

Danny saw Tim open his mouth to speak, but Alfred cut him off before he could. “I only want to know one thing: will Jason be all right?”

Danny smiled in relief. “Yes. That I can promise. I don’t know for sure how best to help him, but I’ve some ideas and I’ll consult with my doctors. They’re the leading experts in human-ghost biology.”

“Then I am glad you came tonight and were able to notice something was wrong. Thank you.”

With a shrug, Danny just said, “It’s literally my job. This is what I do.” Up ahead, he could see the doorway back to the dining room.

“If it’s your job, how much do we owe you?” asked Tim.

That question brought Danny up short. “Owe me? What are you talking about?”

“If you’re doing this for work,” said Tim as they entered the dining room, “Then you need to be paid somehow. If not by us, then how?”

“What are you lying about now, Danny?” asked Jazz, shaking her head at Tim’s question.

“Nothing! Tim asked why I’m planning on helping Jason and, besides the fact that he’s dating you and I’ll obviously help, I just said it’s literally my job. You heard his reaction to that!”

Bruce grunted. “Then I suppose you know where your explanations should begin. What is your job? A full explanation this time, please.”

“Right, yes, I can totally do that. I’m so great at explaining things.”

Jazz snickered at that statement and Danny poked her as he sat down next to her. Tim and Alfred took their seats as well.

“Now, Mr. Fenton.”

Danny winced at the name. “Don’t call me that. I’m not allowed that name anymore.”

“Danny, your job,” repeated Bruce, face expressionless.

“Right. Um… Well, I do just kinda do whatever is necessary or find someone who can. Because, um, well, I’m… kinda the High King of the Infinite Realms? There’s a bunch more titles after that but I refuse to memorize them because ugh.”

Danny looked down at his plate, not wanting to see everyone’s reactions. Jazz must’ve made sure he got a piece of pie because it sat in front of him. It looked so good. Did they even know about the Infinite Realms? Justice League Dark members did, but did Batman? Jazz reached over and took his hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

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Next

Looks like Danny found another excuse to delay the interrogation! (I honestly forgot about the broken glass before Duke spoke up and asked about the crown. But I did always plan to have Danny clean it up.)

Tag List: I'm getting posting errors, so I'll be splitting the tag list in two.

@addie-lover-of-stories, @justwannabecat, @gin2212, @amercurio, @regonold, @overtherose, @readerzj, @sjrose1216, @echoednonny, @deeterzz, @blu-lilac, @number-one-jew, @rowanaway-fromthisbs, @vythika96, @tired-yet-awaken, @themirrorghost, @emeraldcorpral, @all-mights-asscheeks, @darkhinauniverse, @blep-23, @phandomhyperfixationblog, @larkcoe1, @thegatorsgoose, @job-ross-the-second, @britcision, @lenacraft, @bubblemixer, @androgynouslordofescapism, @purefrickingspite, @leftmiraclechaos, @lizisipancardo, @starlight-sparks

[tanith-rhea]

Only Pretending #7

Word count: 2.9k Author's note: Ok... this one has been a long time coming, I know, and I'm SORRY!!! Life's crazy and I'm unreliable. I hope you all enjoy it because I sure did a thousand changes on this one and maybe a plot point or two in the structure, so... my fingers are crossed so hard that there's no blood running through them. I want to thank @alder-saan for the support and feedback, I wouldn't bring that particular thing up too much until you helped me realize it is more important than I think and the reader doesn't have the same context I do. Kisses!

Larissa’s lips were cool, but her tongue was warm and wine-sweet, and soon enough all your senses were her. Her skin was hot when your hands went to her face and neck, slowly slipping to her shoulders underneath her robe. She hadn’t worn perfume yet, so her scent was slowly fading shower products and her. She was all-consuming. Your thoughts, senses and yearning were all hers.

She stood up with your face in her hands, never leaving your lips and dextrously sat on your lap. She towered over you, there was nothing else but her, and you knew there would never be something after her.

“Do you think we have time…” you started, out of breath and a little broken. She was planting long, reverent kisses on your cheeks, eyelids and forehead, stopping on the crease between your eyebrows and smoothing it away. You wanted all of her now, it was so much it didn’t even count as want; you needed her.

You felt the press of her smile and a warm puff of air as she chuckled.

“It depends on how fast you can shower and your thoughts on arriving fashionably late,” her voice was an amused rumble as she distanced herself a bit.

You would never make it in time. You knew it, but you also couldn’t let go of her. Her thighs underneath your hands were the definition of power, you felt dizzy thinking of them squeezing your face until your vision faded and all you could taste was her.

With a frustrated growl, you grabbed her ass and pulled her impossibly closer, resting your forehead on her chest. She had the audacity to chuckle at you and her fingers started a soothing pattern between your shoulder blades.

“What’s so funny?” you half grumbled.

You felt her laugh a bit more before saying, “Nothing. You’re just adorably impatient, I didn’t think you had It in you.”

“Didn’t last night prove I had?”

“You were far too considerate and kind, last night.”

You lifted your face to look her in the eye, unable to mask the tiniest of smirks.

“So, if I’d had my way with you, you’d have been surprised?”

“What makes you think it would be your way?” she cocked a brow and returned your smirk.

“I don’t know…” she gasped when your fingers sunk into her flesh, her expression quickly changing to show how affected she was, “But I seem to remember you being very pliant yesterday.” You kissed her lips chastely, feeling the electric sparks from Larissa’s pent-up desire around you.

Her fingers on your shoulders would likely leave prints. Good thing you’d be wearing a blazer over your top. You planted one last quick kiss on her lips before nudging her to let you up. She did so with an eye-roll to unsuccessfully hide her almost pout, and you had to bite your lip not to smile too much before leaving for the bathroom.

When you came back, Larissa was sitting at the vanity, doing her make-up. She was wearing a long-sleeved, silver mermaid dress that hugged her body just right before loosening lightly just below her thighs. She had a darker shade of her signature lipstick on, a burgundy red that almost mimicked the colour of your three-piece ensemble and wore silver jewellery and heels the colour of her nails and lipstick. She looked exquisite.

You knew she was watching you in the mirror while you let your robe fall to the ground, exposing your bare back and lace panties. You smiled to yourself at her audible stillness and started dressing. First your trousers, then the blouse, which you turned to give her a better view of you putting on, and deliberately buttoned up the slowest possible, eyes fixed on its buttons and your skin. When you looked up, her eyes were on the same track as yours had been, just as you finished covering your chest.

“Do I have something on me?” you pretended to search your top, looking for possible stains and the like.

“Do get over yourself, girl,” Larissa faked annoyance.

“Girl? I’ll have you know I’m almost thirty!”

“Don’t remind me,” the humour in her voice pulled you in, going over to her and sitting on the narrow bench.

“What? Not keen on getting old?” you didn’t mean to sound so soft.

“I am already,” her small smile had fondness but also something else in it, her searching eyes dissecting your every reaction.

“Would you like me to call you Miss Weems?” you breathed, hand tracing the bare skin of her clavicles, up to her neck.

You’d never heard her growl before. It was addicting from the very first time. She reached for your knee and waist and swiftly brought you to her lap.

“Do not ruin my make-up,” she warned, matter-of-factly, before deftly undoing your trouser buttons and pulling down its zipper.

“What are you doing? We have a party in fifteen minutes!” you could not care less about the damned party as her fingers unceremoniously slid inside your clothes and between your folds.

You gasped and gripped her shoulders with white-knuckled desperation. Her gaze bore holes deep into yours, watching every faint bat of your lashes and twitch of your eyebrows.

“I think we’ll be done by then,” she murmured in your ear and sucked at the lobe while two fingers dipped into you.

You didn’t realize before how wet you were from simply teasing her, but as she moved inside you with ease and brought her fingers to your clit, they were drenched.

She kissed and sucked the skin from your jaw to the base of your neck, lowering to your chest, exposed by the low cut of your top. You reached for her hair, dying to weave your fingers into her updo, but she gripped your wrist with a nimble movement and held it behind your back.

“I remember someone saying something about a party?” her mock pensive expression as she stroked at just the right speed was infuriating and intoxicating at the same time. You had imagined being at Larissa’s mercy many times, but if this small demonstration already had you undone, you might not survive her full attention for a night.

She kissed your sternum and quickened her fingers; you felt your thigh muscles spasm and lost control of your hips. She left your hand to hold you in place and took advantage when you arched your back in a breathless attempt to relieve tension to nuzzle her way underneath your loose blouse. You made a sound that was half a whimper and half a gasp as her lips closed around your nipple, warm and sure, and she hummed. She made soothing circles with her thumb on your hip and chuckled when your head found the vanity’s mirror and pushed it, inclining the entire thing and knocking several make-up supplies over.

You huffed, indignant that she found mirth in your suffering, so close to release but kept at bay by her bursts of speed interrupted by sudden gentler touches.

“Larissa, please,” you mewled, propped back into your elbow, every cell of your body howling for relief.

“Begging already? It’s been five minutes, dearest,” she released your nipple only to give it a peck before coming up to stare dangerously into your eyes.

“Please, this is torture…” your voice was little more than a whisper.

“I remember you having no qualms torturing me,” she growled, pinching your clit lightly. It was too much, and your eyes watered as you squealed in surprise. “Standing there with almost nothing, tracing fingers on what’s mine-“

“Am I?” you battled to get the words out with almost no air.

“I would think it’s a bit obvious,” she circled her fingers on your hood, the way she noticed that made you melt.

“Then take care of me…”

You could almost feel the thunderous flash in her eyes strike you as she lunged for your lips and kissed you hard. There were no more soothing thumbs or gentle touches. Her hand gripped your hip forcefully against the vanity and her fingers pressed hard and fast until you were choking on the little air you had and screaming Larissa’s name.

You couldn’t say for how long you came. The first thing you saw when you came back to your senses was Larissa licking her fingers and cleaning the lipstick around her lips. How she could look so put together while doing it would be unfair if it wasn’t her, but she was perfect, so, what else to expect?

“I’m afraid you ruined your knickers,” she noted in a sweet tone.

“Oh, fuck… I’m worse than a teenager…”

“Hardly, dear. I would help you clean up if we had time, but someone did exactly the opposite as I told them to and now, I have to start again,” she faked annoyance as she reached into the mess of things above the vanity and ignored your indignant huff, only smirking as you went to change your panties.

She’d be the death of you.

While putting on the garnet ring and earrings you brought to match your outfit, a thought occurred to you.

“What do you think we trade jewellery?”

“Hum?” she walked over, surveying you from head to toe and back up, swallowing once she got your face again.

“You have silver, I have red… we could colour coordinate our outfits by swapping.”

“You just want to wear my neckless, don’t you?” that might be part of the reason, yes. But it was a very beautiful diamond choker, thin and simple but also screaming ownership — honestly, that was the main reason behind it all, for everyone to know you wanted nothing more than be hers (or that you were, weren’t you?).

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

When both of you were ready — Larissa having done your make-up while teasing you for looking “like my sweet little pet” with her necklace — you joined the party.

You had no idea when all those people arrived, but the foyer was packed. Some of the guests you were introduced to earlier were around. Mr Itt and his wife, Gomez’s brother, Fester, who seemed to be talking with a very intriguing woman of appearance quite similar to his, and grandmama’s sister, Miss Sloom. But mostly strangers, strange ones at that. It was incredible.

You spotted mummies, gorgons, sirens, and all manner of outcasts. Some of whom you had no idea what they identified as.

“Wow, so they weren’t lying!” a strange drawling voice sounded from the side and a broad-shouldered, smiling man made his way through some people to get to you and Larissa. “When Phillie told me you were taken tonight I almost choked on my champagne.”

You guessed this man went to school with Larissa, and his convinced demeanour and attempt at an LA accent made you gag. Why were all her former colleagues pricks? Gomez was the only exception to the rule until now. If everybody else was like this, you couldn’t blame Larissa for liking the only decent person in the bunch.

“Samuel, how nice seeing you here,” you had to disguise your snort with a cough, “This is y/n, the woman I believe Ophelia referred to.”

“Ophelia?”

“Morticia’s sister, and also an old friend,” she explained easily.

“Pleasure to meet a real person,” he extended his hand for you to shake and looked ever cockier, somehow.

“For fuck’s sake, what is your problem?!”

Larissa and Samuel seemed surprised by your little outburst.

“Why do you have to be such a dick? I’ve never met you before and I can’t stand you already. Have you nothing better to do with your night? Is your sense of humour so underdeveloped that you have to resort to cheap commentary to amuse yourself? Are you what, twelve?” you took Larissa’s hand and started walking through the crowd, “Leave us alone, and don’t you dare open your mouth to talk about Larissa because I will find you and I will make you pee in fear like the toddler you act like.”

At your raised voice, some of the guests turned to look at what was happening, but you were already leaving towards the buffet table. You walked past Lurch carrying champagne glasses on the way and thanked whoever was listening for the alcohol.

“What was all that?” relief washed through your body as you heard Larissa’s amused question. She wasn’t displeased, perfect.

“I’m so sick of people from your school days acting like pig-headed kids. What was going on in the 80s that everyone seems to be a bigoted imbecile?”

Larissa only laughed, and close to her, you heard someone you couldn’t see snort.

“Not all of them were bad, you just weren’t so lucky to meet many good ones,” Larissa explained, “However, Samuel was always a bit extra. Wanted to be an actor when we were students, I believe.”

“Do you think he is?”

“With that accent? A very bad one, maybe,” a very distinct monotone joined your conversation. Wednesday, Enid and grandmama stepped closer. Enid and the Addams matriarch filling their plates with food and having a heated discussion about… animal abuse?

“You were listening?” you asked, you could swear she wasn’t around for the commotion.

“I listen to him every year, and every other one as well. I’m sorry, but principal Weems is being unnecessarily dismissive as per usual; they’re intolerable.”

“But everyone is to you, isn’t that right?” Larissa’s tone betrayed her meaning, and she looked very pleased with herself when looking at Enid just a few feet away.

Wednesday rolled her eyes but didn’t look Larissa in the face, instead chancing a… fond? Glance at the pair with her. It occurred to you that this was the first event outside the school where they were officially together.

“I guess I understand why you wanted us to come then,” you really did, you weren’t far from brooding in a corner as well if people would be so unsavoury the whole night.

“You two are exhausting,” Larissa shook her head, unable to mask her amusement, and joined grandmama and Enid.

You watched the people around for a beat, old acquaintances reuniting and close friends giggling, but both you and Wednesday weren’t the type to beat around the bush.

“How’s Enid doing?”

“Thank-you-for-what-you-did.”

You smiled — she did something close — and gestured for her to speak first.

“Thank you for talking with her. She told me,” Wednesday sounded surer this time, her posture seemed straighter, and her eyes were trained at the crowd, “I thought she wouldn’t come when I left. She was smiling too much and acting more excited than normal.”

“And is she ok?” you searched for her eyes, she wasn’t one not to rise to a challenge and looked at you pointedly, “I was afraid her parents would come somehow, your mother invited a lot of people.”

“I asked her not to,” she confessed, looking at Enid, whom you saw was making Larissa chuckle and grandmama cackle, “She’s the bane of my existence, but she seems to love me oddly enough.”

“Mothers and daughters,” you shrugged. It was good to be reminded that Morticia was just a person sometimes, “It’ll get better in a few years.”

“Hello, there!!” Enid chirped when she joined you both and went to hug you again. That was the standard Enid greeting, you came to understand after only a small number of weeks working at Nevermore. And it was a blessing to the world, her hugs somehow had the quality of a bear’s without being deadly — most of the time.

“Hi, dear, how are you?”

“Oh, you know, basking in the glory of being right,” she smirks tightly to contain her previous smile, tossing her hair with a quirked brow, “I just convinced Dorie to walk to alligator to the swamp twice a week. She told me he’s been in the cellar for decades, the poor thing!”

“Dorie?” you didn’t know anyone else lived in the mansion.

“Me, silly, Eudora Addams,” grandmama joined the circle, “This ridiculous girl says it wants to go outside and pestered me enough that I just figured why not. Anything to shut her up,” she shrugged, faking annoyance and with a last look towards Wednesday, the woman left.

“She likes you,” Wednesday, in turn, seemed mystified.

While you were talking, Larissa had apparently wandered off. Surely, she would have told you if she was going somewhere, so being stolen by an old associate was the most logical reason you could think of.

Excusing yourself of the girls, you started searching the party for tall and stunning, but she wasn’t there. It was easy spotting her in a crowd since few matched her stature and Lurch was the only one whose shoulders you could see above the bodies.

You decided to look in the rooms around, going from the dining room to the drawing and then the study. Nearing the door to the last, you heard a muffled conversation, and a particularly irate voice caught your attention. Larissa’s temper was unmistakable.

“You have to be kidding me! You are the entire reason why we didn’t work out!” you heard her spat. Apparently, she was having a discussion with a previous… lover?

The second voice was too low for you to understand what it said, but the hairs at the nape of your neck told the tale quite accurately. You knew exactly who was behind that door and wouldn’t keep standing there hearing them talk like a nosy aunt thirsting for gossip.

However, when you opened the door you didn’t expect to see the woman who had you reduced to a breathless mess kissing another person.

Tags are as follows: @anti-bright-places, @pro-weems-places, @the-bagel24, @regalbootie, @tundra1029, @thoroughly-confused-kiwi-blog, @lilsmeaux, @poorwritingandstalecoffee, @alder-saan, @jelly-frogss, @enchantressb, @imean-its-just-me, @lvinhs, @iloveyall-18, @kimiinou, @jeweleegrey (still not tagging, WHY???), @a-queen-and-her-throne, and last but not least, @one-pining-queer!

Chapter Eight

[negativeyield]

if i die before I bake

Rating: Mature Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Characters: Swiss (Ghost Sweden Band), Phantom (Ghost Sweden Band), Dewdrop | Sodo, Rain (Ghost Sweden Band), Mountain (Ghost Sweden Band), Cumulus (Ghost Sweden Band), Cirrus (Ghost Sweden Band) Additional Tags: Recreational Drug Use, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, green out, Pack Cuddles, Crack Treated Seriously, well this was meant to be crack but it kind of veered away from that, Guilt, Marijuana, Panic Attacks, Vomiting, Swiss is fucking zooted Summary: Phantom bakes some homemade edibles for Swiss, but messes up a vital measurement.

read on AO3

“Hey Mountain,” Phantom said, appearing at his bedroom door. “You went on that weed run yesterday, right?”

The drummer was lying on his bed, idly scrolling through his phone. He rolled to his side to look at Phantom, nodding his head toward the dresser. “Top drawer. You having a smoke?”

“No, I’m gonna make some brownies,” Phantom grabbed the bag. “I accidentally took the last of Swiss’s edible he got in Amsterdam. Told ‘em I’d go to the dispensary with you... and then forgot... so I'm just gonna make some.”

Mountain chuckled, “Have you ever baked anything in your life?”

“Of course I have.”

Phantom had not. But how hard could it be?

“Okay, well if you want some help, let me know. I'll send you the link to the recipe we usually use.”

“’kay. Thanks Mount,” he said and made his way back to the kitchen.

Phantom had watched Swiss or Mountain make edibles on a few occasions, but he pulled up Mountain's recipe. He quickly realized it was a little more complicated than he thought. There was pre-baking, and making a butter, and making the brownies from scratch? Phantom looked at the box mix he found at the back of the pantry. It would have to do.

Soon, the kitchen was a wreck. Measuring cups and bowls were everywhere as Phantom filled their shared space with aroma of baked cannabis. It brought some of the other ghouls out of their room to investigate his baking endeavor.

“Fucking hell, Phantom, what are you doing in here?” Dew was the first to appear as Phantom took the roasted leaves out of the oven.

“My best,” Phantom wiped away some sweat from his brow, glancing at Dew. “This looks much easier when Swiss does it.”

Dew chuckled, hopping up to sit on the counter and watch.

“That’s because Swiss has seen every episode of Great British Baking Show and thinks that makes him star baker.”

Phantom threw some butter in a saucepan and started to combine the components of the brownie mix.

“I believe it. This shit is harder than I thought.”

Dew chuckled, jumping down from the counter and ruffling Phantom’s hair on his way out the back door. “Just follow the instructions, you’ll be fine.”

Phantom sighed, returning to his project.

Cumulus and Cirrus also came by, taking a few finger fulls of leftover batter after Phantom had his bake in the oven. Mountain came by briefly while he sat in front of the oven watching them rise.

“Looks good, Iron Chef,” he smiled, patting him on the back. “Did you make them with or without walnuts?”

“With.”

“Oh fuck, yeah. Be sure to save me one.”

Phantom smiled, feeling a bit better about his baking skills. When the brownies finally came out, they looked just like the ones the others have made. He cleaned up while they cooled, and delivered a generous piece to Swiss’s room for when he returned. Phantom thought about also enjoying one, but a text from Rain about a quick rehearsal tabled that plan. He cut himself a small sliver just to test out the taste, satisfied with the fudgey texture and gooey taste.

“Something is still missing,” Dew tapped his chin. They had spent the last hour and a half rehearsing some new bits for the rituals and testing out a few riffs. One in particular was giving them some trouble. “Maybe we should get Swiss down here. See if he has an idea or if adding a fourth balances it better.”

Rain put down his bass. “Yeah, I’ll go find him.” He left the practice room and headed toward the living quarters. In the meantime, Dew and Phantom continued to run through the bridge of the song.

Suddenly, rapid, running footsteps echoed up the hall. Both of the ghouls turned to find Rain looking pale and panicked.

“Something's wrong with Swiss,” he said, motioning for them to follow. They put their instruments down and ran to Swiss’s room. Phantom could hear the sound of retching from the hallway, which eerily stopped the moment they got into his room.

They found Swiss slumped beside the toilet, eyes unfocused as he barely registered Rain and Dew dropping to his side.

“Swiss,” Dew cupped his cheeks, trying to get the dazed ghoul to focus on him. “Swiss!” The only sound the ghoul made was some weak whimpering. The most he seemed to move was when he’d start to gag and lurch toward the toilet. Rain sat beside him, rubbing his back and looking at the others with concern.

“What do we do?”

“What is even wrong with him? He's sweating like he's back in the pits, but he doesn't feel feverish,” Dew said, hugging his arms across his body. “Food poisoning?”

“I don’t know, Dew, he’s pretty out of it.”

“Is he on something?”

Rain shrugged, “we just got back right before we started rehearsal. He didn’t have anything when he was with me.”

Suddenly, it dawned on Phantom. He looked back at the place he left Swiss’s brownie.

The plate was empty.

“Shit,” Phantom turned back to the others, suddenly starting to panic. “Shit, I made brownies earlier. Swiss had one.”

Dew’s eyes widened “How big?”

Phantom estimated with his fingers. “Not bigger than what Swiss has given me before.”

“Did he eat more than what you brought him or something?”

Rain stayed with Swiss while Dew and Phantom rushed to the kitchen where Mountain was coincidentally opening the pan of brownies.

“Mountain, wait!” Phantom yelled, startling the drummer into dropping the plastic knife on the ground.

“What?”

“Swiss is sick. Maybe because of the brownies,” Dew explained. Phantom grabbed the pan, sighing in relief to find only the piece he cut for Swiss missing.

“He only had what I gave him.”

“Well what was the dosage?”

“Whatever the instructions said, Dew, I don’t know!”

The room started heating up with Dewdrop as the epicenter. “Phantom, you saw Swiss— this is not the fucking time for I don’t know, I need some fucking number—”

“Guys,” Mountain yelled over them, the bag of weed, that now had a sizable dent in it, in hand. His face was especially serious. “Phantom, where is the extra butter?”

He stared at Mountain blankly. “What do you mean?”

“You followed the recipe I told you? Pre-baked the amount you usually see Swiss and me make, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay, then where’s the leftovers? The recipe is for triple the amount of butter you should have used.”

Phantom suddenly felt like he was going to throw up. “I-I didn’t know that.”

“Shit,” Mountain cursed as Rain called down the hall for more help. Mountain went running, leaving Phantom feeling numb and a majorly heated Dew.

“I thought you were following the instructions,” Dew said, his eyes starting to flicker red, like embers in a fire trying to kindle.

“I was, but I was looking at the butter recipe Mountain told me to use and also reading the back of the brownie box and— and, I guess… I guess I got confused,” Phantom ran his fingers through his hair, tugging on the roots. Dew huffed, turning to go back to Swiss’s room. When Phantom started to follow, the fire ghoul whirled around, eyes fully glowing now.

“You’ve done enough, Phantom. We’ll take care of him.”

He left Phantom standing awkwardly in the hallway, his guilt feeling like a tight wire wrapped around his neck. He stood there until his anger kicked in. Phantom marched into the kitchen, grabbing the pan of brownies and slamming them into the trash can with such force the metal pan bent at a ninety degree angle.

He was angry at Dew. At the fucking instructions for being confusing. At Mountain for not telling him when he was leaving for the dispensary. Really, he was just furious at himself. How did he possibly think that much weed was supposed to go into one batch of brownies? What kind of idiot didn’t double check the recipe when making an edible?

Phantom banished himself to his room, throwing around a few things before collapsing on his bed in a fit of guilt-soaked tears.

Rain think he preferred it when Swiss was vomiting.

After the last time he hugged the toilet, just as Phantom and Dew went to check the kitchen, Swiss had a moment of improved coherence.

“Rain,” he mustered, spitting into the toilet. It was a relief just to hear him have some sort of orientation to what was happening around him. That relief was quickly thwarted by what followed, “I don’t… feel… good,” he said, his voice slurring and slowing. Rain had to lunge to catch Swiss’s dead weight as he suddenly collapsed.

“Fuck!” he yelled, pressing two fingers to his neck. Ghoul vessels did have heartbeats— usually slower than humans— but present. Even for a ghoul, though, Swiss’s was faint. “Dew! Phantom! I need you!”

To his surprise, Mountain was the first to arrive at his aid, helping Rain pull Swiss out of the bathroom and into the more spacious bedroom.

“He just passed out,” Rain said, obsessively checking the pulse points in Swiss’s neck and wrist.

“He’s greening out bad,” Mountain sighed, looking up at Rain with dismay. “Phantom fucked up the edible ratio. It won’t kill him, but we need to watch him until he comes down.”

Swiss’s eyes finally fluttered open again. Still unfocused, and even more out of it than before. Dew appeared at the door, chest heaving with anger. Phantom was nowhere to be found. Mountain took one look at Dew and shook his head.

“Out.”

That didn’t help Dew’s fury. “Excuse me?”

“You’re hot right now. You know he gets sensitive to emotions when he’s high, and right now the last thing we need is him panicking when he can barely comprehend why he’s panicking. You can come back when you cool off.”

Dew looked like he wanted to bite off Mountain’s head, but he did back out of the room.

“Mounty,” Swiss muttered, briefly focusing on the earth ghoul’s face. His hand limply waved, and Mountain grabbed it from the air and squeezed.

“Hang in there, bud. You’re gonna be okay.”

Swiss felt like he was dying.

Or locked in some shadow dimension. Either was possible.

Maybe this was the purgatory thing he’s heard so much about. A land between heaven and hell. It would explain why he felt like the world was melting between his fingers while also feeling like he was floating. He was burning hot and doused in sweat, but also wanted nothing more than to be wrapped in blankets.

A lot of contradictions. The only thing Swiss was sure about was that his stomach fucking hurt.

His head was in the toilet again. Throat burning. A hand rubbed his back and he tried to focus on that instead of the sour taste in his mouth.

Then darkness.

Maybe he was dying.

Sometimes he’d hear some voices. Muted, warped voices he could hardly identify.

One came through clearly. Swiss couldn’t quite identify what was being said, but he knew it was Mountain.

Mountain sounded upset. Swiss frowned working hard at trying to focus on the slow moving blobs around him so he could find Mountain.

A warm hand took his.

Fingers tinkered with his hair.

Touched his blazing skin.

He hoped he wasn’t sick.

They would also get sick if that was the case.

“You can sleep, Swiss miss.”

“We’ll keep you safe.”

Swiss didn’t want to sleep. He was exhausted to the point he couldn’t move, but sleeping seemed like something he wasn’t supposed to do. Like he’s fully succumb to the darkness.

Like he’d wake up in the pit.

His throat suddenly felt tight. Fingers tingled. He tried to suck in more air, but his lungs were sluggish. Slow as the rest of him. Swiss fought, feeling his body being turned. Being lifted and then put down again—

“I don’t wanna go!” he tried to scream, but only parts of it made it to his mouth.

Pressure on his cheeks. A hand on his chest. Swiss’s vision dotted for a few moments before realizing Rain was nose-to-nose with him, his ocean blue eyes pleading for something Swiss couldn’t hear over the sound of ringing in his ears. He looked at Rain’s lips come together and split in the shape of the word breathe.

I’m trying, he wanted to say, but he had no breath to do it.

Rain pressed on his chest. Tapped a pattern that Swiss took to mean as cues to breathe in and out. He tried— and struggled— to follow them at first, but soon fell into rhythm. He felt his body start to relax. His fingers regained feeling. Swiss felt the air fully inflate his lungs, hold, and exit with a slow whoosh.

Slowly, he faded into sleep.

Swiss woke up feeling like he had been dropped in boiling water. He was drenched, the feeling of his clothes on his skin making him nauseated all over again. Feeling a little more mobile, Swiss grabbed at his shirt, trying to ease it over his head.

“Woah, woah, woah, what’s wrong?” a voice asked. Dew's voice. 

“’m fucking hot,” Swiss said, back, trying and failing to make it over his head. Frustration started making him upset, and he took a break from his shirt and clumsily pulled at the drawstring of his sweatpants instead.

“Okay, let me help you,” Dew whispered, swatting Swiss’s hands away. Swiss stood still as Dew dropped his pants and helped pull his shirt off. The cool air on his burning skin was a relief, but Swiss still didn’t feel comfortable. He grabbed his underwear, but Dew caught his wrist.

“Those too?” he asked hesitantly.

Swiss nodded, trying to jerk out of Dew’s grasp, but being unsuccessful. Dew sighed and released him, and Swiss finally felt at ease.

He stood there until his body temperature felt normal again.

Then he realized he was fucking freezing. He slumped back on the bed, grabbing as many blankets at possible while Dew watched him, dumbfounded.

“Cold now, Swissy?”

“Freezing. Cuddle me, Dew?”

The fire ghoul groaned, and something landed on Swiss’s face.

“Okay, but you have to put your drawers back on.”

That seemed like a fair exchange. Swiss slipped on his underwear and opened his arms for Dew to come warm him up. The fire ghoul dropped into Swiss’s arms, muttering something about how he “better not puke on him”.

Swiss’s throat was dry when he woke up again. HIs room was dim. Less chaotic than before. Swiss tried to roll to his back, but found something blocking him.

Or someone.

“Swiss?” a soft voice asked, moving so he could plop onto his back. It was Mountain staring down at him with concerned hazel eyes.

“I’m falling off the bed,” Swiss muttered, weakly trying to shove at the massive drummer. Mountain’s concern shifted to mild amusement, and he gave Swiss some more space.

“Just making sure you don’t aspirate, Swissy.”

Satanas, his head was pounding. Swiss flopped down on Mountain’s chest, finding some comfort in the feeling of his heartbeat under his cheek.

“Is he awake?” Rain asked, walking in with Dew in tow.

“He is,” Swiss answered. “He is also so fucking thirsty.”

“Good,” Rain handed him some brightly colored drink. Swiss stared at is suspiciously until he explained. “Electrolytes.”

“Oh. Thought you were trying to poison me,” Swiss muttered, and slowly sipped at the cool beverage.

“That would be Phantom,” Dew muttered, quickly getting an elbow to the ribs from Rain. Swiss looked at them, confused.

“What about Phantom?” His bandmates looked at him and then one another. Swiss couldn’t tell if it was guilt or pity, but he didn’t like it either way. “Whatever it is, fucking tell me.”

“He’s usually pissy when he’s almost down,” Mountain said as though Swiss wasn’t sitting right fucking there.

“Think he’s good enough to tell him?” Rain asked.

“For fuck’s sake,” Swiss pinched the bridge of his nose. Rain placed a hand on his knee.

“Did you eat the brownie Phantom baked for you?”

Swiss slowly dropped his hand, the realization of his pre-nap snack hitting him the moment Rain said it.

“Yeah… it was good, but I’m guessing maybe a little too much?”

Dew scoffed. “At least triple the dose you usually do.”

That certainly explained why he felt like he was on a different plane of existence earlier.

“Damn. Uh, how bad was I?” They looked at each other again. That, and the fact they looked exhausted pretty much answered his question. He also realized Phantom wasn’t among them. “And where’s Phantom?”

Dew pressed his lips together. “I, uh, told him to stay out of the way.”

From the way Mountain and Rain exchanged a glance, Swiss had a feeling it was a little more than that. He sighed, pushing himself up to try and stand, but a rush to his head made him topple right back down.

“Where the hell do you think you’re going?” Dew asked.

“To see Phantom. Make sure he’s not beating himself up over this.”

“You can barely stand still!”

Swiss looked at Dew. “Then go get him!”

Dew looked at Rain, who shook his head. The usually calm water ghoul looked at Dew sternly. “I’m not the one who yelled at him. Go fix it.”

With a groan, Dew departed. Swiss laid back in his bed, focusing on a singular point on the ceiling until the spinning stopped.

“Hey Rain?” he asked after awhile.

“Yeah?”

Swiss ran his hand over his bare chest and thighs. “When did I strip?”

He chuckled. “A few hours ago.”

“Why?”

“Dew said you wanted cuddles.”

Swiss sat with that for a moment before shrugging. “Yeah... that checks out. Can you grab me some clothes, please?”

Phantom wasn’t sure what to do. He snuck down near Swiss’s room a few times to try and gauge what was going on, but couldn’t quite get a complete read. Things seemed to calm down at least. Less sounds of vomiting. Rain, Mountain, and Dew had begun to take shifts of just one or two of them staying with Swiss at a time. Phantom wanted to assume the best, but he still felt his worst.

So he shut himself in his room. Lights off, so his main source of light was the glow of iridescent constellations on his ceiling.

Swiss had helped him put those up. And Phantom had basically poisoned him. What a good packmate he was.

Because he wanted to torture himself, Phantom looked back at the recipe for the butter. Sure enough, it clearly called for almost four times the amount of butter he used— if he had just fucking read it correctly, Swiss wouldn’t be spending the night worrying about choking on his own vomit.

Hot tears ran down Phantom’s face. Though he had formed some great connections with the others, he was still so new. Would they send him away after this? Would any of them trust him again? He ruminated on these increasingly destructive thoughts until there was a soft knock at his door.

“Phantom?” Dew said through the door. “You in there?”

“Yeah,” called, his voice raspy from crying. The door opened slowly, and in came Dew. He was much less angry than usual, but still seemed a little peeved. After taking in the dark room and Phantom curled up on his bed, his face softened.

“Hey…” Dew said, sitting on the edge of Phantom’s bed. To his surprise, the fire ghoul reached out and put a warm hand on Phantom’s calf. “Swiss is okay.”

“He is?”

“A little loopy still and post-high cranky, but yeah. He’s asking for you.”

Phantom bit his lip, curling more into himself. “He’s pissed, isn’t he?”

Dew’s eyebrows furrowed together. “Swiss? At you? Not at all.”

“You are.”

Dew sighed, pressing his fingers together in his lap. “I was. But, I shouldn’t have yelled at you like that. I was mad and… and scared. Really scared.” Dew looked at him with with this sad expression. “Sorry for taking it out on you.”

Phantom finally sat up, pulling Dew into a hug before he could protest. The lead guitarist hugged him back, pinching his cheek as they pulled apart. “I hope you know you’re banned from baking, though.”

“Fair enough,” Phantom said, smiling for the first time in hours.

They went to Swiss’s room where Rain and Mountain were perched on his bed with them. When Phantom entered, they grew quiet, and started to move out of the way. Swiss opened up his arms.

“C’mere Phantom,” he said with a grin.

All the stress of the last several hours of soaking in self-doubt and guilt came tumbling down at once. Phantom practically tackled Swiss as he dove into his arms, reveling in the joyful laugh the multi-ghoul let out as he squeezed Phantom tightly.

“I’m so fucking sorry,” Phantom said into Swiss’s shirt.

“Don’t be, Twinkle Toes, that brownie was fucking fire. Perfect ratio of gooey, but not underbaked. And truly flattered you thought I could handle that much THC.”

“It did seem like a lot…”

“I fuckin’ bet,” Swiss chuckled. “It’s okay, though. I’m good. Sometimes I need a green out every so often. Keeps me humble.”

“Also freaks us the hell out,” Rain said. Swiss pressed his lips together, almost like he felt guilty about being basically incapacitated. He reached out toward the others, and Phantom felt the bed dipped as Rain joined the huddle. Mountain and Dew soon followed, encapsulating the two of them in their body heat and weight.

“Thanks for taking care of me, you guys.”

[thebookbutterfly]

🦋 Chocolate Chips — John Wick x Reader

Summary: Every year you and John celebrate Helen’s birthday. This year would have been her 40th, so you decide to do something special.

Tags: #so much domestic fluff, #a teensy bit of angst, #sometimes babygirl is a 50 year old hit man, #he may kill people for a living but he is SOFT and I will not be taking any arguments about this, #slightly self indulgent

Warnings: Gender Neutral, but reader is suggested to have long hair, no use of Y/N, mentions of death obviously, no beta and no ‘ragrets’

- — - • - — - • - — - • - — - • - — - • - — - • - — -

John’s occupation put a lot of things in life into perspective. Getting into silly fights was simply not worth it. Not when every time he walked out the door the stakes were so high. That’s not to say that you never had disagreements. Just that neither of you were willing to partake in petty lack of communication.

You had known about Helen from the very day you and John had begun dating. It was hard not to. The man loved her so much it was written on every piece of him. Strangely though you didn’t mind. How could you? When that wonderful woman had brought him through so much shit and out to the the other side. To you.

Simply to say that Helen was a part of what made the love of your life himself. And so you didn’t mind his love for her at all. Especially now that his love for you was written all over him too.

It was Helen’s birthday today. You saved the date and had been sneakily preparing everything for weeks now. It would have been her 40th birthday, so you wanted to make it extra special this year. John had been out on a contract all day yesterday and so you weren’t too worried about him waking up as you crept downstairs and into the kitchen.

You removed the cake you had baked from the fridge where you had hidden it and placed it on the counter. Chocolate caramel. Her favourite flavour. The big silver four and zero candles were perfect. Along side the cake you placed a large vase full of daisies. It was perfect. All that was left to do was breakfast.

You set to work, cutting up fruit and frying bacon and eggs. You knew John would be starving when he woke up, he always was after a hit. You supposed hunting someone down burned a serious amount of calories. Lastly, you set to work on the pancakes. You knew they were Johns favourite and you were more than happy to indulge him, especially today. He always asked for heaps of chocolate chips in his. You rolled your eyes affectionately at the thought. He was a chocolate fiend but when he stared at you with those big brown eyes. Ugh. Who were you to say no to such a gentle, beautiful man?

You were just plating up the last of the pancakes when you heard soft footsteps padding down the stairs, followed by the excited skitter of Boy as he raced his dad down to the kitchen. John was silent as death so you knew the fact that you could hear him approach was deliberate and more for you than anything else.

Boy entered the room a minute before John did; tail wagging like crazy. You laughed at his enthusiasm and leaned down to ruffle his ears affectionately. John’s sleepy form shuffled in just as Boy managed to land a lick to your cheek. He smiled at the sight of his little family. Boy: seemingly very proud of himself and you: wiping the drool off your face as you stood to greet him.

It was unfair, you thought, for the boogeyman to be someone as cute as him. John was wearing a soft long sleeve shirt and his favourite pair of flannel pyjama pants. As usual he had stolen one of your scrunchies to pull back his long hair— a green one with ducks on it, this time.

You had offered to buy him some of his own. Cool ones to fit his bad-boy assassin image; you had teased. But he had somewhat sheepishly declared that he liked yours better. You didn’t mind. After all you stole a fair share of his clothes too. So you had compromised and bought a few extra for yourself, that way he could be a thief and you wouldn’t run out.

Johns eyes drifted to the cake and the vase of flowers on the counter, and he froze. You watched as the memories hit him one after the other. Boy, sensing his dad’s distress, waddled over to his side and plopped himself down on John’s foot. The contact jolted him back to reality and he lifted his watery eyes to yours. “You did all this?” he finally choked out.

You stepped over boy and slipped your arms around his waist.

“It would be her 40th. I wanted to do something special for her this year,” you replied before a bit of hesitancy creeped into your voice. “Is it okay?”

John wrapped his arms around you, tugging you right against his chest. It took him a minute to reply and your heart thundered as you waited for him to say something. He buried his head into your neck and you cradled him there with the palm of your hand on his nape. Keeping him safe— holding him together as he answered with tears in his voice.

“It’s perfect. Thank you.”

You breathed a sigh of relief. Reaching with your unoccupied hand you began to trace constellations on his back. It was a habit you had gotten from him, actually, but it had stuck with you. He had spent years with nothing but violence for company, so you relished touching him gently.

Slowly, you pulled him to face you. You pressed a kiss to his forehead and swiped away his tears with your thumbs.

“I love you,” you said softly. You held him firmly willing him to really hear it.

“I love you too, so much.”

You stood there for a second, just holding his face in your hands. Enjoying the warmth of his skin. Boy sensed the shift in mood and slowly his tail began to thump against your legs.

“You had a long night last night,” you broke the silence. “Let’s get some food in you. Then after that we can light the candles and you can tell me about some of your favourite memories of Helen. Yeah?”

John nodded, straightening, but kept his grip on your waist as he surveyed all the food you had made.

“I’d love that. Do you mind if we have a look at the photos too?” He asked softly.

“I already put the photo albums out on the coffee table,” you replied with a cheeky grin.

His chest rumbled as he laughed, “Am I that predictable?”

You beamed at the sound, poking him in the ribs as he snuck Boy a piece of bacon. Big softie.

“I think I just happen to know you quite well. You’re much less mysterious than you think,” you teased him and tucked a stray strand of hair behind his ear.

“Alright, I’ll accept that,” he said with one last peck on your lips. “Now, let’s eat before this goes cold.”

[daaydreamy]

the sensual woman

summary: a day after harry and y/n’s date, she’s back at the bakery.

warnings: coarse language

pairing: harry styles x fem!reader

•••

“Big day, big day!”

Y/N grinned at Harry as she took the coffee and muffin she wanted from the counter, raising the cup in the air a bit as she started to walk out of the bakery. Harry was just standing there, like a complete fucking idiot, lips parted and cheeks warm. He watched her every single movement until her car wasn’t in front of the bakery anymore, still unmoving. 

As soon as she came in she was smiling brightly, her shoes clacking against the floor as she walked over to the display. She was making small talk with Harry, even teasing him a little, as she looked over what was ready to eat. She had even mentioned the small kiss they shared last Saturday night, murmuring to Harry quietly that she would be completely open to doing it again afterwards. Her hands were in the pockets of her black slacks and Harry just couldn’t stop looking. He probably looked like a complete wanker just staring at her but his eyes just couldn’t seem to tear away from her long-sleeved shirt that had kiss marks along the collar and her loose tie that accompanied it. 

“Big day…” Harry murmured quietly to himself, finally gathering himself after getting lost in his thoughts a little. He finally put the cash she put down on the counter into the register, wiping his slightly clammy hands against his apron whilst gulping dryly. 

He looked up from the sound of a small jingle, seeing a new customer come in. 

Right, he had a job to do. 

•••

“So, how’d it go?”

Y/N jumped a little from the sudden sound of Zayn’s voice, glaring at him a little as she went into her office. He followed her in, sitting down on the empty seat she had near her desk. He placed his sketchbook down and opened it up to his most recent page so they could look over his new sketches—and Y/N’s, except her sketches were hung up all over her office—together. 

“Why do you care?” She huffed out and looked down at Zayn’s work, biting her lower lip a little. She admired his work, really. Absolutely adored it. 

“Alright, calm the attitude a little.” He mumbled, “Just, you know, curious.” Zayn shrugged and she hummed, flipping to the next page. 

“It was great.” She sighed sort of dreamily, unable to hold back the smile that tugged at the corners of her lips. She looked up from the book to look at Zayn, “He’s really cute, Z. It’s unbelievable. He even told me this joke, he said, “Why did the bike fall over?”” She recited the joke Harry said while they were having dinner. She still remembered how Harry had gone slightly pink-cheeked from her laughter, trying to hide it by looking down at his plate to poke at a piece of pasta. 

“Why?”

“It was two-tired.”

Y/N was smiling brightly, even laughing a little, but Zayn was looking at her confusedly because who the fuck finds that funny? He fake-laughed and Y/N must have noticed how she was giggling, folding her lips into a line as she looked at Zayn. She found it funny, alright? It wasn’t her fault she liked jokes like that. 

She coughed, fixing her shirt a little, “Anyway, the date went great.”

“Right.” Zayn chuckled. 

•••

Yesterday. (Sunday, the day after the date.)

“How’d it go, eh?” Niall said as he came over to sit down on the couch, where Harry was eating cereal quietly with his legs crossed, watching a show on the TV. 

“Great.” Harry said simply, darting to lick over the drop of milk that was threatening to fall off his lower lip. “We kissed before I left.” He said nonchalantly, trying to keep his cool. He was actually still so unbelievably giddy, even after sleeping for nine hours. His heart wouldn’t quit it. He was still even trying to figure out if it was all a dream or not, because it surely felt dreamy. Even when he woke up, he just had to replay that exact moment in his head.

“Nice one, H.” Niall said, taking a bite out of his granola bar, “Ya like her?” He then asked and Harry smiled. 

“Yeah, I think.”

•••

Like clockwork, Y/N was coming into the bakery at 7 PM, the soft knock of her shoes against the floor soft. Harry pushed his glasses up his nose a bit, smiling softly as she walked close to the counter, opening his mouth to greet her, only for him to be surprised by the feeling of her hand on the back of his neck and her lips against his. His cheeks immediately went red-hot at her forwardness, but he didn’t want to stop. In fact, he was just about to melt against her like a scoop of ice cream, until she unfortunately pulled away. 

She was smiling, her lipstick smudged a little. 

“Can I…” She looked over to where you could go behind the counter and Harry nodded swiftly. She quickly made her way around the counter and wrapped her arms around Harry’s neck, about to kiss him once more, only for her to pull back. 

“Esther isn’t here, right?”

“Nope.” He said softly and she kissed him again. His arms were around her waist, her body firmly pressed against his now.

As soon as Y/N licked over the seam of Harry’s lips, he was a goner. 

He whimpered quietly into her mouth, letting her tongue explore his own. She started moving slowly, and kept going until Harry’s back hit the wall softly, holding him there. His soft sounds were so pretty and despite the fact that she was starting to run out of her breath, she wanted to kiss him until her lungs were burning and on fire. She wanted to kiss him until she could no longer breathe, because she knew his kiss was enough to keep her alive. 

Eventually, though, (and unfortunately) Y/N pulled away for some air. Their faces were still incredibly close to each other’s, eyes staring into each other’s and panting into wet mouths. Y/N’s eyes flickered down to Harry’s lips, where she saw her red lipstick smeared all over his mouth messily, bringing her thumb up to wipe away some that went past the corner of his mouth. Harry only seemed to get even more flustered at that, breath hitching. 

“You’re so easy to fluster.” She chuckled softly, “Are you alright with my place?”

“Yeah, definitely.” Harry replied breathily, making her smile.

So then they got in her car. 

Harry was antsy, Y/N noticed, unable to sit still in the passenger’s seat, and once she started driving she placed her hand on his thigh, moving her thumb back and forth gently, Harry’s heart started beating a little faster again. She took her hand away eventually and Harry had to keep his cool, focused on looking out the window and watching the cars pass by. 

“Calm down a little, yeah?” Y/N glanced at Harry and chuckled as she put her keys into her doorknob, pushing the door open and allowing Harry to enter before closing it. 

“So-” Harry started, only for Y/N to cut him off for what seemed like the millionth time already (though, he wasn’t complaining, he would never complain.) He felt like putty and Y/N wouldn’t stop playing with him. Even her shoving her keys into the pocket of her coat whilst shrugging it off made him feel hot inside, like a campfire that someone wouldn’t stop throwing wood into. 

“Ever since I walked into that bakery I’ve wanted to kiss you.” She kissed the corner of his mouth, murmuring softly. Her kisses started traveling over to his jaw soon after and he gulped, noticing how she was starting to pull her tie off. “You have no idea how bad I’ve wanted to have you like this.”

“I- hmm,” Harry was about to say something, but she found just the right spot on his neck, causing him to whimper. Noticing his reaction, she paid more attention to that one spot, licking over it and nipping at it lightly. 

“What’s that?” She pulled back, tilting her head to the side a little. There was a teasing smile playing on her lips and he realized she was starting to put her tie around his neck. “I’ve barely even done anything and you’re so, so flustered.” She teased, loosely tying the narrow fabric in her hands around his neck. 

“I just,” He paused, suddenly nervous, “I’ve never done this before.” He said quietly.

“What do you mean?”

“I’ve never, you know…” He mumbled, toying with the end of Y/N’s tie. 

“Oh.” Y/N’s eyes widened a little, “Then… are you sure about this? We can take it slow if you want. We can probably just, like, watch a movie if you’d like, I don’t mind.”

“No!” He suddenly blurted out, flushing. “No, I-I want this. I’m sure about that. Just… I’m not, you know, like experienced. So, I’m afraid of it not being good for you, and stuff like that.”

Y/N was smiling. 

“God, Harry, you’re precious.”

a/n: i gotta score tonight man ! i’m horny, you know what i mean ? horny !

🏷: @crow-i-guess, @planetflos, @harrycanyonmoonn, @bxtchboy69, @sweet-as-lilacs, @lyricalniall, @venusincleo (couldn’t tag you!), @bxbun111, @tenaciousperfectionunknown, @emispleased, @goldenhrry, @cinnamongirlrry, @manifestrry, @niallhoranshotgf, @sad1esgf, @taylorsreputationsversion, @violetsandfluff, @purplefishingline, @a-strange-familiar, @moonlightbea-33 (couldn’t tag you!), @famedrs-blog, @coochiesteak, @blahblahblah-888 (couldn’t tag you!), @milesisntdonewritingyet, @harrysgoth, @theroosterswife24, @cinnamonlola, @youcan-nolonger-run

[glittter-vamp]

Trick Or Treat |A.I

Warnings: Fluffy. Super super cheesy and short. Halloween theme. First Andrei fic so, bear with me lol.

Word Count: 2.3k

A Halloween playlist played on your small Bluetooth speaker as you cleaned your kitchen from the mess you had made from baking a pumpkin pie. It was Halloween night and the song Superstition by Stevie Wonder played lowly in your home. You were in your Halloween pajamas that were all black with spiderwebs on them. It was almost 10PM now, which was a bit late to be baking a pie but you had worked a double shift today at the hospital and had been attending all the kids trick or treating in your community this evening up until about 45 minutes ago. You were almost out of candy and now wanted to enjoy some delicious pie and maybe some wine as you watched a classic Halloween film to wind down from your very long day before bed. As you looked at the bottles of wine you had, you decide which bottle to open and you settle on a nice red you had bought a couple weeks ago for a friends party that was never opened and had told you to take it home because she was more of a white wine type of person. 

As you look for your electric bottle opener in your kitchen drawers your doorbell rings and you look at the time on the phone. It was a little late for trick or treaters to still be out there at this time but nowadays even teens still trick or treated so maybe it was some teens. You grab your pumpkin candy bowl you had next to the door, which only contained of a few pieces of candy now and open the door expecting a kid or two but when you see who it was you were taken by surprise. "Andrei?" You ask looking at the tall handsome dark haired man who was in a zip up hoodie and sweat pants with some Nike slides. "Trick or treat!" He says showing off his perfect white teeth. "What are you doing here?" You chuckle looking at the bags in his hands. "I saw on your story that you had a long a day at work and thought I'd surprise you with some food. Cool PJ's" He says looking at your pajamas and holding up the bags in his hand. You and Andrei were pretty good friends, one of your best friends was dating one of his teammates and you two got to know each other at a party they both threw a few months ago. He had been over your place a few times since he lived nearby and was still getting used to Cincinnati and didn't know that many people other than his teammates and people who worked for the team/league. 

"That's so sweet, but you didn't have to do that. You must be tired yourself getting back from San Francisco almost 48 hours ago." You let him inside from the chilly Ohio fall air, to which he does and leaves his slides by the door. "I slept almost all day yesterday after we came back in the morning and practice isn't until noon tomorrow. I'll be alright." He sets down the bags on your kitchen counter. "What did you bring?" You ask continuing what you were doing with your wine. "I got us food from Panda express and I went to Kroger's and found these spooky cookies we can decorate after we eat." He smiles taking everything out of the bags. "This is so sweet, you didn't have to do that." You pout at him feeling bad that he went out of his way to do this for you. "Don't mention it." Andrei says giving you a smirk. "Wine?" You ask him. "Sure, got any forks though? They forgot to put some in the bag when I picked up the food." He shakes his head seeing there was only napkins and sauces in the bag. "Yeah, they're in that drawer next to the stove." You nod getting two wine glasses for you both after opening the bottle. "Smells really good in here, what are you baking? or is it a candle?" He asks going to get the forks. "Pumpkin Pie, felt right given it's Halloween today and Thanksgiving is next." You pour the wine in the glasses. 

"I like the vibes in here! Halloween music, fall foods, few decorations and lights around...I'm still used to going to parties and dressing up so it feels cool to be lay back this year. Especially after the season we've been having." He lets out a sigh. "I can only imagine the stress." You hand him the glass of wine. "Let's not even talk about that, tonight my mind is on all this." He says waving his arm around the food. "You can take the food over to the living room, I think the pie should be done so let me get that out of the oven and we can watch movies or something." You grab your oven mitts. "Sounds like a plan." Andrei nods getting the food as you take out the perfect pie out of the oven and turn it off. Leaving the pie to cool off you grab the wine glasses and make your way to the living room turning the music off. "I got a bit of everything so I hope you don't mind sharing." He says uncovering the food that he placed on the coffee table. "Of course not, I gotta say though; I didn't expect NFL players to eat this late at night and much less Panda Express and sugar cookies from Kroger's." You snort sitting down on the floor grabbing the remote to put something on. "Old habits die hard, I've done better now than in college but I have my days like this where I just need something tasty and filling late at night." He sits next to you on the floor. 

"Okay, what do we want to watch? Something Kiddie, little scary or very scary?" You ask him searching for movie titles on your firestick. "Um...little scary." He nods making you snort. "Someone get scared easily?" You smirk taking a sip of your wine as you eye him. "No...I just get weird dreams." he mutters. You go to put on the exorcist and he shakes his head profusely with a mouth full of food. "Nuh-Uh! I said little scary." He says with his cheeks full of food and fist covering his mouth making you laugh. "The movie is like 50 years old, there's nothing scary about it!" You laugh. "Says who!?" You exclaims. "What a baby. Do your teammates know your this much of a wuss?" You giggle looking for something that was suitable for him instead. "That's not nice." He shakes his head making you laugh. You settle on Chucky since it had more humor and rauchy-ness than anything scary. You grab one of the plates of food and see it was noodles with their walnut shrimp. 

"Want some?" You ask him and he nods picking a few off your plate. You two pick at each others plates as you watch the movie. You were really enjoying yourself, even though you were exhausted and had to get up early in the morning for work you didn't mind having Andrei here. You lived by yourself and all of your closest friends were in relationships meaning they didn't hang out with you like they once would when they were single or just casually dating. You also were developing some feelings for Andrei but how could you not? He was extremely good looking, sweet and smart. Plus that smile whether it was showing his perfect pearly whites or his little smirk he did, did something to you that you couldn't explain. "Did you have a lot of trick or treaters? My apartment building doesn't allow stuff like that. Bought candy for no reason." Andrei asks pulling you from your thoughts. "I had more than last year, there was a little one dressed as one of you guys. It was so adorable." You smile and nod. "That's cute, I usually just dogs walking around in out jersey's." He chuckles. After finishing your food. You grab more wine and you start on the cookie decorating. The sugar cookies were  in all different shapes like pumpkins, bats, skulls and ghosts. The kit also came with a bunch of different colored frosting and sprinkles. You thought it was super cute of him to do this out of the blue.

"Which ones are you going to do?" Andrei asks, there were two of each. "Um, I think the Bat and Pumpkin." You nod reaching over for them and setting them down on the paper plate you each had now. "We should post these online and have people vote after we're done. Winner has to take to take the other out to eat at a nice restaurant." He smirks and you smirk back. "Deal. Hope you took art classes at Princeton." You tease, Andrei giving you a pretty flirty grin. You two begin on decorating your Halloween cookies, you eyeing him every so often seeing how focused he was, eyebrows furrowed, tongue slightly sticking out and his fingers covered in frosting. "Hey! Don't be looking at my masterpiece. Worry about your own!" He says trying to cover his cookies with the box the cookies came in which made you laugh. He was taking this quite serious which you found cute.

"Pft! I'm almost done." You boast putting the finishing touches on your bat and pumpkin by adding some sprinkles. "How!?" He scoffs his eyes opening wide in disbelief. "Rule number one Iosivas, never underestimate your opponent and overestimate yourself. Didn't they teach you that in football?" You smirk finishing up and licking some frosting off your finger winking at him. Andrei looks at you licking his lips before chuckling and just shaking his head. "You're supposed to trash talk back you know." You raise an eyebrow as you sip your wine, he was sort of acting different than usual but you couldn't put your finger on it. "Why would I do that?" He chuckles which made you question things even more since you guys had that type of friendship. "Because it's fun!" You say getting up to get a slice of the pie you made. "Do you want a slice of pie? You ask him from the kitchen. "I'll take one to go, I'm still stuffed from dinner still." He responds. You cut yourself a small piece putting it on a small plate and grab a eating utensil. "Done yet?" You hum sitting back done having a piece of your pie. " I think so." He says showing you the final product. "That...is certainly...a cookie." You look at it in confusion. "The ghost is you and the skull...I just had fun with it."Andrei gives you a boyish grin, you found it so adorable that he had made you into the cookie ghost. it was all purple with black hair and a smiley face. "Okay, that's really cute and sweet. Looks...like a 2nd grader made though." You tease making him suck his teeth and roll his eyes at you. 

You then hand over yours which you did your best with. "Oh, what!? These are fire! Damn Y/N." Andrei smiles looking at the cookies You made an orange pumpkin with tiger stripes and the number 80 on it. On the bat you made the same thing but in white and black. "Dang, now I'm not so sure about the bet. No way I'm beating this, people are going to humble me." Andrei shakes his head. "I'll count tonight for the bet." You shrug but he shakes his head no. "I still... want to take you out." He smirks at you as you look up at him. Confusion spreading on your face. "What do you mean?" You chuckle. "I still want to take you out, if that's okay with you..." he bites his lip looking at you in anticipation. "Like a date?" You ask and he nods. You were caught off guard by this, you didn't think he'd see you more than a friend so this was unexpected for you. "I think that sounds really nice, I'd like that." You smile feeling the heat rise to your cheeks and butterflies in your stomach. "Okay good, cause I made reservations for tomorrow night at 8:30" He smiles and you chuckle at his forwardness. "Was this your plan all along tonight?" You ask and his cheeks turn a shade of red indicating that it was. "That's super sweet and pretty smooth of you." You lean over and kiss his cheek which clearly caught him off guard this time. Your eyes travel down to his lips after making eye contact and you two slowly inch closer and closer until your lips meet. His lips soft and tasting like wine you two had been drinking. The kiss was short but sweet & gentle.

Pulling apart a loud scene in the movie startles you both which made you both laugh. "Let me get out of here so you can get some rest, didn't realize it was almost midnight." Andrei smiles before giving you a kiss on the cheek. You two quickly clean up the mess you had and pack him some leftovers including the cookies and the pie. "Text me when you get home, and don't let the boogey man get you." You tease with a smirk on your face, Andrei giving you a look before chuckling himself. "I will, I'll see you tomorrow.  8 on the dot, and wear that dress you wore that dinner we attended. It looked real good on you." He smiles before giving you another peck on the lips before he walked to his car that parked in the driveway. 

This Halloween was quite the treat. 

-------------------------------------------------------------

A/N: Wanted to write a lil something. Andrei Iosivas masterlist will be coming soon! Thanks so much for reading 🖤

[shoku-and-awe]

Veggie lunch! Featuring @baronmagikcarp's delicious peasant bread (halved), roasted beets with dill sauce, and green beans with almonds. Recipes behind the cut. Yes, emotionally I still feel like some kind of fuzzy mold growing inside a forgotten tupperware but this was very tasty and fun to eat.

The bread looks like it has a very dense crumb (my yeast may be dead or dying; time to check!), but the texture was extremely pleasant and doughy. It was delicious and very crusty! My husband said it was the highlight of the meal, and I ate so much I feel slightly sick, but I still want more.

Beets: Wash, wrap tightly in foil, and roast at 210C until slightly soft. (This took at least an hour? I did it yesterday.) Chill, peel, slice, serve with dill sauce.

Dill sauce: Greek yogurt, fresh dill, green onion (supposed to be chive but they are still in winter hibernation), garlic, lemon, salt, pepper, and a little bit of mayo for fat. Mix it up. Taste continuously.

Green beans: While salted water is boiling, snip off bean ends and snap in half. Boil about 30 seconds, strain, and run under cold water until cold. Toast almonds in a skillet and add to green beans with melted butter, lemon juice, and salt and pepper to taste.

Peasant Bread　 (Thanks again, @baronmagikcarp!) Make: Two 14-ounce loaves

4 cups (512 grams) unbleached all-purpose flour 2 teaspoons kosher salt 2 teaspoons sugar 2 1/4 teaspoons instant yeast 2 cups lukewarm water Softened unsalted butter for greasing

1) In bowl, whisk together dry ingredients 2) Add water, mix with rubber spatula until absorbed and sticky dough ball forms 3) Cover and let rise for 1 to 1 1/2 hours 4) Set rack in middle of oven and preheat to 425 F 5) Grease two 1-quart oven safe bowls 6) Using two forks, deflate the dough by releasing it from the sides of the bowl and pulling towards center 7) Separate into two pieces and transfer to bowls to rise for 10 to 20 minutes uncovered 8) Transfer to oven and bake for 15 minutes, reduce heat to 375 F and bake for 17 to 20 minutes more, remove to cooling rack (if pale, cook for 5 minutes more), let cool for 15 minutes.

Note from shoku-and-awe: I had to make the following modifications knowing my oven and because either my yeast is dead or my kitchen is cold/inhospitable even when it feels warm. (I've generally had difficulties baking since we moved here, both with yeast and sourdough alike.)

My dough had barely risen after nearly 90 minutes, so I proofed it at 40C for maybe an hour and it still did not seem to need deflating in Step 6. I did score it, though!

Since my oven is weak, I baked it covered in a pre-heated pot for 15 minutes, then uncovered it and went for another 20.

[whateverloomis]

hihi! could I request poly!ghostface with an idol reader? afab but any/no pronouns works

The reader just enrolled in the school recently, both to be closer to LA and try and keep the public away. Reader isn't world famous or anything, but has a recognizable name. Maybe has been on a talent show and radio station a few times.

Hi! Thank you for your request anon 💖 This was a very interesting one to work with. I did a lil twist with the LA detail. I don't know if you wanted some saucy smut in here so I kept it on the teasy side, (I love this gif set 😭🙈.)

Warnings: Teasing, inappropriate touching, manipulation, alcohol consumption, getting tipsy, cliffhanger (I think?), unedited

Reader: They/Them pronouns in italics.

-

"An independent journalist?" Sidney asked, intrigued and confused all at once.

"Yeah, like. Y'know, the people who go around asking questions about crime cases and other crazy news." Tatum answered, filling the group in with the latest gossip.

"Yeah, I got interviewed yesterday, but apparently it's like a low-key thing. Some kind of personal project that might not go public." Randy added and Sidney nodded, processing all the information.

The press being all over town was bad enough, and now some secret journalist or something? She definitely wanted to avoid anymore questions, so she took note in order to avoid anyone that might've seemed, strange? She didn't really know how to handle the situation.

"Hey, how come I haven't gotten a cool secret interview?" Stu asked, pouting like a little kid.

"I don't think someone low-key like that wants to interview your loud ass." Billy replied and Stu faked being hurt. The rest of the group laughed at the boys usual grumpy commentary.

"Look, that's the journalist." Randy whispered and stared in a -not so subtle- way. Everyone else gave their visual attention to the person and Billy raised an eyebrow in amusement. Then he looked at Stu, who also seemed a bit more interested than usual.

They didn't know what to expect from the title "journalist" when it came to appearance but it definitely wasn't this. They had a short black dress on with a cream colored cardigan sweater. Black combat boots and white knee high leg warmers that completed the casual outfit and gave it a touch of cuteness compared to the little dress that hung dangerously close to their ass, threatening to rise up at any moment.

"Well damn." Stu said in a flirty and amused tone. Tatum glared at him and then the group continued their usual chaotic conversations and speculations about the ghost face murder case.

•

Inside the campus, a memorial for Casey Becker and Steve Orth was placed at the end of the main hallway. YN was looking at every detail and every note the students left close to the couples pictures and took notes in their leather journal. It seemed like a casual thing but Billy and Stu knew what was up.

"You think they might have a lead?" Stu questioned as he and Billy walked along the hallway casually, trying to seem like they were doing anything else other than approaching the journalist.

"I don't know... But we better make sure they don't find any." Billy answered and Stu widened this eyes, excitement radiating off him.

"Hooh, what are you suggesting man? We kill them?" Stu whisper-screamed and Billy hit his friends arm. "Would you shut up? That's not what I'm saying... Maybe, a distraction of some sort... A mislead." Billy answered and Stu got even more excited. It was like a game to them, one they knew how to manipulate however they wanted to.

•

After the last class of the day, YN was ready to go to their small apartment and put the pieces together with the info they gathered about the ghost face case.

As they were putting their books and other things into their shoulder bag, Billy approached them. He seemed mysterious to YN and they instantly grew curious. Maybe he knew something about the case?

"YN, right?" He said, his tone slightly flirty.

"Yes, and you are?" YN asked, mimicking his tone and smiling up at him innocently.

Billy let out a breathy laugh, smirking. "Billy. Billy Loomis. I uh, heard you were investigating the ghost face case or something of that sort?" He said, taking a step forward and placing his hand on YNs desk.

"Words getting around huh? Yes. I'm keeping it low-key though. Not everyone peeks my interest with this." They replied and Billy raised an eyebrow.

"No? Do I seem interesting enough?" He asked, smirking down at YN as they chuckled at his flirting and interest.

"Can't deny that you do, Loomis. We can talk. My place at 7? I'd rather be somewhere comfortable." They said and grabbed Billy's hand softly, writing their phone number and address on the palm of his hand with a marker.

Billy looked at it for a second and smiled at YN, nodding and leaning on the desk. "I have a friend too, he has some pretty interesting info as well. I could bring him over, if you'd like." He added and YN thought about it for a second. Other than receiving what seemed like good insight, if his friend was just as attractive as him, they wouldn't mind that one bit.

"Sure, that's fine with me. See you at 7?" YN checked one last time. "We'll be there." Billy replied and watched as they walked past him towards the exit door of the classroom and the boy couldn't help but scan their gorgeous body from head to toe.

•

"Wine?" YN asked the boys and Billy declined. Stu was about to say yes but Billy kicked him under the table.

"Dude, f- Uh, no I'm good. Thanks-" Stu stumbled on his words and YN giggled, pouring themselves a glass. It was perfect, if YN was tipsy enough the boys would be able to twist and turn their words in order to steer YN into the wrong direction with the case. They could also get information out of them and mess around with it too. Perfect plan.

All three of them conversed easily and it got better once YN started to get affected by the alcohol. They told Billy and Stu about how they lived in LA and how it was too overwhelming to live in. After they heard about the small town of Woodsboro and ghost face it didn't only peak their interest, but it was a perfect excuse for them to move out of LA and transfer into a new college. Have a real change in their lifestyle and pursue their journalism dream.

As the conversation went on YN got more intrigued by the boys and what they were saying.

"The thing is that Sidney's dad is missing. And it happened exactly when the murders took place so, it makes total sense that he'd be the prime suspect." Stu commented and YN wrote every single thing down.

Billy was standing close to YN, leaning against the kitchen counter trying to peak at their notes, but he could barely read anything.

"So what else do you have in there?" Billy asked, not caring about keeping his intentions low-key. He moved towards YN who was sitting on a stool, using the counter as a table.

"Nothing you should be concerned about, Loomis." YN answered and took another sip of their second glass of wine that night.

Stu chuckled and placed his hand on top of YNs. "C'mon, you can tell us, we can provide a lot of info."

"Yeah, we have a friend who's a cop too, so we have good insight." Billy continued and kept walking towards YN, sliding his hand against the counter top.

YN giggled at their attempts to get an insight scoop of what they've collected so far, but maybe the boys were right. I mean, they did have a cop as a friend, so that was definitely a good source.

Billy was a few inches away from YN, leaning against the counter top. "C'mon baby, you can tell us. We can keep a secret or two." He said and placed his hand on YNs left thigh.

They were almost drunk at that point and didn't care what they did or said. They were soaked between their legs because of the alcohol effects, plus Billy and Stu being so flirty and straight forward wasn't helping with their needyness.

Stu walked over to YN and stood right behind them. He placed his hands on their arms and soothed them. "We'll even introduce you to our cop friend, it'll be a perfect link for you." He whispered in their ear and they shivered at the sound of his soft voice.

"Mm... That does sound good... but I have a feeling there's a catch." YN said. Even in their tipsy state, they could reason and detect the boys wanted something in return.

"Now we're talking." Billy said and smirked, running his hand up and down YNs thigh. "We don't want much just..." He paused and stepped between YNs legs, running both his hands up their thighs and lifting their dress up the tiniest bit. "Wanna have a little fun with you, that's all..."

"It'll be good for you babe, you'll get exactly what you want, hm?" Stu said softly and placed his large hands on their waist.

YN was nearly melting at their soft touches and in their lack of sobriety Billy and Stu's offer sounded more than satisfying.

"Mm, you have a deal then." They replied and ran their left hand up Billy's chest.

"That's what I like to hear."

[bomberqueen17]

the home stretch

Went over to the house yesterday morning and Jim was there sawing a hole in the exterior wall.

Not alarming at all once I remembered part of this remodel that i'm really excited about is that we're getting an actual exhaust hood for over the stove. Not one of those ones that goes through a microwave either, a real exhaust hood that goes to the outdoors. (The real ones are mounted 30" above the stove top. Microwave ones have to be lower so you can reach the microwave. i can't stand cooking in such a constrained space like that. No thank you. Keep my microwave separate!)

He had sawed out a big chunk of drywall on the interior too, and replaced it with plywood, which is much sturdier to screw mounting hardware into. At my request, he'd extended the plywood down a couple more inches (it'll be covered by the tile backsplash so it won't even show!) so I can screw a couple of heavy-duty mounting hooks in there and have a place I can hang both my cast-iron skillets when they're not in use. I don't like leaving them on the stove (my mother's approach) or stacking them on a shelf (dude's approach) because one is untidy and the other requires me to lift every piece of cast iron i own at once to access any of them. (I also have a square griddle and a Dutch oven and also a tiny skillet which Dude uses all the time when I'm not around and neither of us uses at all when I am around, because it is very much a Cooking For One mini skillet LOL.)

He paused to show me the deer hunting hut he'd meticulously constructed for himself while he was on Christmas break and then artistically had painted camoflage. ("My friends were like omg how long did that take you? I dunno, I wasn't counting, I had a blast. Had a beer in one hand, spray paint can in the other, I just let it take as long as it took. It's like arts and crafts! Who's keeping track of the time?") It did look great. As he was swiping his finger accidentally slid onto the later bits of the camera roll and it showed me the deer he'd gotten on the last day of hunting season. "Oh! I'm sorry, I didn't mean to make you look at that," he said, and then looked at me and laughed, remembering I had told him I work in a slaughterhouse. "Right, you don't mind that kind of thing, but still." It was a nice big doe, cleanly felled, nothing to object to there.

I went and called the appliance company, who'd said they'd deliver my dishwasher and vent hood on new year's eve probably. They seemed confused that I'd called, and then were confused when they discovered that indeed both my items were in stock and should have been delivered. I said I figured the holiday had confused things (genuinely, probably the vent hood had come in on NYE like the salesman had thought it might, but I bet somebody had the day off and they weren't on the ball about calling people) so I just wanted to call and find out if anything needed sorting. They told me they'll call me today to tell me the two-hour delivery window. So I'm getting my dishwasher today! Pumped. It's gonna go into the living room to start with but like, y'know, that's fine.

The counters are going in on Thursday. Hopefully, Jim said, the counter people could do it in the morning, because then he could start on the tile that afternoon.

Ah they've just called, my delivery window for the appliances is 11-1. OK cool.

The plumber can't come until Monday. But then once he's been there I'll have my stove and sink and dishwasher. And, Jim says, that means the final, last little button-up details will be done on Tuesday.

"And then," he said, amused, "I can go back to the regular schedule, because the people who refused to have their houses torn up over the holidays will be clamoring to get the work done now. It's good you didn't mind." Which is precisely why we thought we'd gotten bumped up by two months, but it's funny to hear him so directly confirm it.

"I'm the luckiest person in the world," I said, "with my mother-in-law's house vacant walking distance away for this whole time, so it's been genuinely no trouble at all." And I am. She's coming back on Tuesday, so I figure we'll move back into our house over the weekend, and I'll deep-clean her house and (sighhh) put all the beautiful sewing equipment back where I found it. I won't really miss her fancy modern sewing machine (which she just got and is third-hand and I don't think she knows how to use either) but her old workhorse straight-stitch machine is a beautiful, unfussy beast I've really enjoyed spending time with.

OK i gotta get off my ass and go get the grocery shopping done so I can go sit in my house for the delivery window. I saved plenty of things to do, don't worry. I'm starting to put stuff into the cupboards, made Dude come sit with me over the weekend and give his opinion-- he's been busy at work and has had no attention span but I refuse to take his "idk just put stuff wherever" at face value, he spends more time in this house than me and i will NOT have him after the fact annoyed with how I chose to organize things. So he did give opinions, finally. And I need a few more lazy susans and storage baskets and half-shelf-rack kinda thingies here and there but I'm getting there.

[lightvialamp]

january 13 - wet || @jegulus-microfic || wc: 729 || pt 2. of yesterday's microfic, pt. 3

Regulus sighed. It had been three days since James had come up to him by the lake, and really, he had no idea what had come over him. He felt like he did during class presentations, where he went up to the front of the room with his notecards and then sat down ten minutes later with no recollection of what he had said and a vague uneasiness churning in his gut.

Well. It was out there now, and obviously James knew something. That something being predicated on the fact that Regulus had pretty much told him that he had a voyeurism kink—both watching and being watched, apparently—although this wasn’t something that he himself had explored. Or, really even known. 

Regardless, James was staring again. It was constant now, a cursory glance around the great hall or in the corridor between Charms and Transfiguration a surefire way to catch hazel eyes already upon him. He didn’t know what to do about it. If he should do anything about it. 

He sighed again when he glanced across the room at the Gryffindor table and found James clearly trying to pretend that he hadn’t just been staring holes into the side of Regulus’ head by putting a large bite of some sort of pie (that had obviously not yet cooled) in his mouth. Immediately, his eyes went large and round, mouth open and breaths coming quickly in the universal hmpha hmpha hmpha noise one makes when food is too hot. He choked it down, and, water glass in hand, proceeded to make a giant, wet mess of himself, the table in front of him, and the two unfortunate souls sitting to his left and right (Regulus noted with glee that one of them was Sirius). 

Regulus watched as they pushed each other around trying to get out of the worst of the spill, smiles bright amid the chaos. 

“What the hell are you looking at and why is it making you smile to yourself like a lovesick idiot?” came Barty’s voice from his right, accompanied by an elbow to the ribs. Barty followed his gaze and laughed derisively, sitting back in his chair. “You know you’re just as bad as he is, right?”

“Fuck off, Barty.”

“No, I’m serious. You’re over here making a fool of yourself as you watch him make a fool of himself, and I have to say. It’s hilarious.”

Regulus added a kick to Barty’s shin under the table for that. “Fuck off, Barty. Merlin.”

They sat there in silence for a moment before Regulus reared to the side, finger in Barty’s face—the traitor was already laughing at him again— to say, “And I am NOT as bad as he is.”

“Okay,” snorted under his breath was the only response Regulus got until a swift flick to the ball of his cheek had him bringing a hand to his face along with a muttered “Merlin, Regulus, calm the fuck down. All I mean is that you’re playing cat and mouse with the guy and it’s still unclear who’s who. And like. You can be whoever you want in this situation, but I’m guessing you’d rather be the cat.”

“Okay…?”

“Okay. So work your shit out and go fucking get him?” Barty sighed. “Why am I doing all the work around here?”

“Well your metaphors are a little convoluted for someone who hasn’t turned in a single piece of coursework this term,” Regulus retorted, feeling a little bit like a light bulb had gone off over his head at the same time as he had been slapped in the face. Though, he shouldn’t be surprised since that’s what most of his conversations with Barty felt like. 

Barty just raised his eyebrows. Regulus sighed, and looked over at the Gryffindor table again. James’ eyes danced away quickly, as he knew they would, but there was an edge there that he hadn’t seen before. 

“Fuck.”

“Mhm? See something new?” Barty already sounded smug, though Regulus was no longer paying attention to him and was, instead, cataloging all of his interactions with James from the past three days.  

“Fuck.”

James was playing a game. Or, at least continuing the game that Regulus had started—and thought he’d ended—in the clearing by the lake. And now that Regulus knew that they were playing a game, well, he wasn’t about to lose, was he?