#AHS Hotel | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

imagines-ahs · 14 hours

Text

Chapter Forty-Eight: Bisque.

Summary: Wilhemina Venable felt it was finally time to leave Kineros Robotics and get a job with people who weren’t such morons like Jeff and Mutt. What she didn’t expect, however, was for her new boss to be so damn insufferable. She didn’t expect to fall in love with her, either.

Tag List: @mayfair-fleur @mistysswampmud @paulsonsratched @msvenablx @notmeellaannyy @rwoolfe @golddustdykes @lovingsarah @slut-for-sarah @geinobinarie (message me to be added if interested!)

“Affection memories are the best kind,” Billie’s words came as soft as melted butter. “How old were you?”

I’m not sure I have many of those. “Six.”

“I wish I could have seen young Wilhemina eating cheesecake for the first time.” The corners of Billie Dean’s sparkled lightly. Venable couldn’t help but let out a chuckle as she took another bite.

“Do you have any pictures from when you were young?”

Even though the question seemed a little odd, Billie had learned not to judge. It was safe to say their experiences in life had been very different, even though they shared their fair amount of similarities. She nodded as she took a bite. “I do. Why?”

Wilhemina shrugged. “I’d like to see them… sometime. If that’s alright with you.”

“Of course.” Weird. But it made sense… Billie did want to see younger Venable, too.

Wilhemina nodded slowly as she looked down at her plate. I think I might have a few pictures from school… Granted, she had always hated taking pictures. Brown eyes moved back up to Billie Dean, and a small smile graced Venable’s features as she realized the small amount of cream cheese on Billie’s face. “Your chin,” she said softly.

“Hm?”

“You have cream cheese on your chin.”

“Oh.” Billie let her fork go and reached for a napkin. She chuckled as she wiped her face clean. “Thank you.” Embarrassing.

“Of course.” I can’t believe the nerve of her to look good even with cream cheese on her face.

Carefully taking one last bite, Billie Dean set her plate aside. She licked her lips and made sure no bits were left on her cheeks. Venable still savored the dessert, and so honey eyes watched her. In no time, they were back at the living room with the dishwasher all loaded and running. Purpura sleepily watched them from her spot at the center table.

“That was good,” Billie sat back down at the couch, right beside Wilhemina, whom nodded.

“When did you first find out you had a talent for finding good food?” Venable teased as she leaned back against the couch. Billie Dean let out a small chuckle. Is it safe to feel that comfortable around her? That was a constant doubt in her mind.

“I think it’s a talent only for you.” She reached for one of Venable’s legs, hand resting on her knee and caressing it on top of the pants.

Wilhemina smiled to herself. Floratta Blue permeated her house in comforting tones of coral. “If you say so…”

“Mhm.” Leaning closer, Billie kissed Wilhemina’s cheek before resting back on the couch.

With the corners of her eyes sparkling lightly, Venable turned her head to stare at Billie Dean. The caresses on her leg no longer felt foreign. Such a short time… Things with Emma had taken so long so develop to whatever it had been. How was any of that even happening with Billie? “Will you help me set my iPad?”

“Of course.”

Afternoon dawned and night arrived pretty fast. Shades of orange invaded the living room as Billie Dean was just done helping Wilhemina set everything, and then Venable got up to turn the light on. The iPad now lay charging on the corner table, already with the purple case on and a few apps installed. Honey eyes watched as Wilhemina caressed Purpura on her way back to the couch, and as she was about to comment on her trousers, her phone began to ring from her purse. Brown eyes moved to hers. Billie Dean bit her lower lip and wished the name on the screen didn’t start with the letter ‘E’—thankfully, it didn’t. “It’s Jenny,” she told Venable before walking to the bathroom, receiving a nod back. Closing the door, Billie quickly picked it up. “Hello?”

“Stop ignoring my texts!” From the other side, Jenny yelled teasingly.

“I’m not!” Billie said with a chuckle. “I just haven’t been around my phone today.”

“Oh! Oh—oh! You’re at her house?!”

Laughing, Billie Dean moved to sit down on the closed toilet lid. “Yes, I am.” Her words were quiet, low.

“Did you spend the night? Oh, of course you did!”

Billie couldn’t help but find Jenny’s excitement funny. “I did, but nothing happened.”

“How come?”

“We’re going slow.”

“Did you make out at least?”

“Jenny!”

“Come on!”

Smiling to herself, Billie Dean nodded on the phone. “Yes…”

“So she does have feelings for you, huh?”

“… yes.”

“Where’s my ‘You told me, Jenny. You’re always right, Jenny. I should give you a raise, Jenny.’?”

“Shut up!” Billie chuckled yet again, hearing as the girl did the same on the other side of the phone. After a moment, she bit her lip. Their laughs died down. “Thank you…”

“You’re welcome,” Jenny’s voice came softly, now. “On a more serious note, is everything alright? Is she treating you well and not like she’s made out of ice?”

Billie Dean shook her head. “She’s the sweetest, Jenny…”

“If you say so.”

“Truly.”

“I believe you.”

Billie licked her lips as she thought. “Was Emma alright? Yesterday, when you dropped her home?”Silence. Billie Dean felt Jenny shifting on the other side of the line. Oh no.

“She was just drunk. Do you really want to talk about her now?”

“She said something about Terry, didn’t she?”

Jenny took a deep breath. Billie gulped. “She said a lot of things…”

“Jenny…”

“Yes. She did talk about Terry.”

“Fuck,” Billie breathed out. Closing her eyes, she reached to massage her temple. “What did she say?”

“I don’t remember exactly—or rather, I didn’t understand it very well— but it was something that had to do with telling Wilhemina about her.” Billie Dean groaned. “She was drunk and very much mad at you, I doubt she’ll do anything,” Jenny tried to amend. It didn’t help much.

“She thinks she knows what happened, and she’s assuming that’s what I am doing with Wilhemina.”

“Yeah…”

“That’s not it, Jenny. Terry wasn’t even fired because of that!” Her voice raised a little. Billie quickly took notice of it and squeezed her eyes shut for a moment.

From the other side, Jenny gulped. “I know, Billie… but you do know that a few people can’t help but make that connection, right?”

Billie Dean took a deep breath. “Yes…” And it fucking sucks. Just another thing people assumed about her life, as if she didn’t have enough of that already.

“Have you told her about it?”

“Wilhemina?”

“Yes.”

“No… not yet.” Honey eyes fell down. Billie sucked on her lower lip. “I think it’s too soon.”

“Billie, it’s either you telling her or her possibly finding it out through Emma… and I really don’t think you’d like the latter.”

“I know,” Billie Dean murmured. “What else did she tell you?”

“She just cried a lot… and called you a bunch of names.”

“Fair,” she murmured again.

“Not really, but we’ll not dwell on that right now.” Billie nodded to herself. “Are you spending the weekend there?”

“Yes.” Taking a deep breath, Billie Dean sat up a little better. “Why?”

“Just asking. The reports about the party should be out on Monday, and we need to approve the pictures for the special.”

“Right. You can ask them to e-mail me the material.” I desperately need a break from working. The end of the year was always hectic for Billie Dean.

“Already did. They’re waiting on an answer until Monday, noon.”

“Perfect. We can do it in the morning, then.”

“Mhm.”

“Do I need to do anything this weekend?” Billie had found Jenny’s question a little odd, so it was always best to ask.

“Not really. I was just curious about you and her,” the girl chuckled.

“Oh.” Chuckling back, Billie got up from the lid. That’s good at least. “I’ll tell you more on Monday.”

“Good. I’ll be waiting excitedly as the reason for all of that to be happening I am.”

“Silly,” Billie Dean teased back. “Alright, I’ll see you on Monday.”

“Alright. Have a good weekend, wink wink.”

“You too, you annoying human.” With both of them laughing, Billie ended the call. She looked up to the mirror and fixed her clothes and hair, eyes glued on herself. She sighed. She’ll think I do that with everybody. Maybe that talk could wait until Monday… or at least until tomorrow. Billie Dean decided she wouldn’t think about it now. At least not for the night. She still had another whole day before the next week, after all.

Quietly stepping out of the bathroom, Billie Dean walked back to the living room; she didn’t find Venable there. “Wilhie?”

“In the bedroom,” Venable called back.

Quietly still, Billie Dean followed that way. As she got to the room, her eyes were graced with the lovely image of Wilhemina, sitting on the bed with Purpura and a tube of lotion by her side. Lavender notes invaded her nostrils. Billie smiled. “Are you moisturizing her?” She remembered Venable had said something about it, once.

Wilhemina nodded. She reached for more of the lotion and gently caressed the cat’s back, which purred lowly. “Winter makes her skin drier.”

“She’s so well behaved.” Carefully, Billie sat down beside Wilhemina. She watched as her hands worked on Purpura, so gentle and caring. And with such long and dainty fingers… not now. Billie Dean licked her lips and looked back up at Venable, watching the way she was so absolutely focused on the cat, with lips curling up and eyes so soft above the sky of freckles there. To be loved by her must be holy. She could only wish to experience that one day. “Can I help?”

Taken positively aback, deep brown eyes met honey ones. “To moisturize her?” Billie nodded. Venable opened a smile. “Of course.” She reached for the lotion and pushed it closer to Billie Dean. “Here. Her chest is missing still.

“Okay.” As gentle as she could, Billie Dean scooped a small amount of lotion on her fingers and began to caress the cat’s chest, right underneath her neck. Purpura purred a little louder, shifting on the mattress to accommodate the hand. Billie smiled, and as she looked up at Wilhemina, their eyes and smile met again. Air seemed scarce all of a sudden. I want to give her the world.

I love her. When had anyone ever treated Purpura like that? When had anyone wanted to be a part of her life like that? How scary? How good? How foreign? “She likes it,” Wilhemina said, voice as soft as melted butter. “She likes you.”

With a tiny chuckle, Billie Dean used all of her strength to take her eyes off of Venable and look back at the cat. “I like her, too.” With her free hand and mindful of her nails, she reached to pet the cat’s head. Purpura leaned against it, eyes closed. Another chuckle left Billie’s lips.

With her teeth trapping her lips in order not to allow them to smile too big, Wilhemina kept on watching them. She pulled her hands away and wiped them on a towel she had taken, cleaning them of the lotion. After a minute or two, she spoke again. “Thank you for being so nice to her…”

“Of course,” Billie Dean’s eyebrows drew closer in confusion. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

Venable shrugged. My mind clearly works wrong. “It’s just that… a few people can be mean because of—of how she looks.” Just like they are to me. She nervously licked her lips. “You know… the skin.”

Billie’s frown grew for a second until she understood just how deep the topic actually was. Her eyes reflected nothing but kindness now. “There’s nothing wrong with how she looks, Wilhie… and even if there were, quote on quote, something wrong about her, that wouldn’t be an excuse for people to treat her in any way but kind.” Gulping again, Wilhemina nodded. She took a discrete deep breath and clutched the small purple towel on her lap. Billie Dean took notice of it. She’s nervous. With her own heart picking up slightly in speed, Billie looked down at the cat for a second before looking back up at Venable. Her lips curled up on the corners. “Besides, I think she looks really cute.”

This time, it was Wilhemina who looked away from Billie Dean. Her cheeks tinted softly. The underlying tone of their conversation was very much explicit. “R-really?”

“Oh, yeah.” She knows I’m talking about her. There was no need to point that out. Billie had been learning compliments and words of affirmation were better left in the murky, at least for now. “More than cute, I think she’s beautiful.” Clutching the towel in her hands a little harsher, Venable nodded quietly. She slowly looked back up, and when her eyes met honey ones again, she found a look in them that left her warm all over, sweet all over, comforted all over. Billie Dean’s smile grew lovingly, pouring affection all over. Carefully not to disturb Purpura, Billie scooted closer to Wilhemina, hand reaching to cup one of her cheeks—slowly, so she could ask her to stop if she wanted. She didn’t. Billie Dean’s thumb caressed the plump crimson skin with so much tenderness it nearly hurt. Venable sighed lowly. “You’re beautiful, Wilhemina,” she whispered, voice as soft as a cozy blanket and as sweet as honey. She could feel Venable’s breath against her lips, faster than usual and oh so inviting. So she kissed her, slow and gentle and affectionate.

With blood rushing up to her head, Wilhemina felt her hands trembling against the cloth. She did the best she could and let go of it, reaching to caress Billie’s arm as she kissed her back. Their lips danced slowly and passionately, and for a split second Venable felt herself losing touch with the parts that could be so damn horrible to her. Her lips picked up in intensity, and she subconsciously scooted closer to Billie Dean, too. Purpura meowed from between them, therefore causing the kiss the break. Wilhemina took a deep breath as she stared at Billie’s eyes, lips rosy and tingling deliciously. Billie Dean watched her closely, thumb still tracing Venable’s cheek. I’m terrified things will change. Reality set back in. Wilhemina gulped. “I’m n-not used to that…”

“Compliments?” Venable nodded. I know. Billie smiled sadly. “Any chance I can help you get used to them?”

With her cheeks still red and hot, Wilhemina bit her lower lip. Hesitantly, she nodded. “It might take a while…” It might never happen at all.

With the softest smile she could manage, Billie Dean reached to tuck a lock of red hair behind Venable’s ear. “That’s okay,” she whispered. Billie felt as dark brown eyes fell down to her lips, so she leaned closer and kissed Wilhemina again, which got herself a sweet sigh. Billie Dean pulled away just enough to stare at Venable. “I’m not in a rush.” She had said that already, about many things, but she would never grow tired of easing Wilhemina’s mind.

And yet again, there she was… bare, raw in front of Billie. Vulnerable, and yet she didn’t feel so scared. That’s scary. Would that become something usual for her?

Sunday morning arrived as sweetly as the past night had been; Wilhemina found herself falling asleep tangled in Billie Dean’s arms again, this time receiving kisses on the forehead until she, eventually, allowed sleep to win. When the first ray of sunlight slipped through the curtains, their limbs were still tangled and their skin was still warm from their embrace. It was Venable who opened her eyes first, eyebrows close as she frowned from the light. When her vision wasn’t so blurry anymore, Wilhemina focused on whatever was in front of her—it happened to be Billie, still fast asleep and with her lips inches away from her own. She took a deep breath. I kissed her. Venable licked her own chapped lips, body falling slowly into reality as it got aware of its position: legs tangled with Billie Dean’s, an arm that wasn’t its own wrapped around her waist, feet touching, blonde hair tickling her face. How lovely was it, to not wake up alone? To not always be by herself? Wilhemina took another deep breath, brown oceans examining the face in front of hers. Is she even real? Venable still had her doubts. Billie frowned as a strand of her own hair tickled her face, nose scrunching up. Wilhemina smiled to herself and reached to pull the strand of hair away and behind Billie Dean’s ear. As she pulled her hand away, she couldn’t help but brush her knuckles against Billie’s face, caressing her peachy skin. I shouldn’t be so attached already. How could she not? When that woman treated her and made her feel a way she had never experienced before? Venable watched as Billie Dean began to slowly open her eyes. She smiled sleepily to herself.

Letting out a small sigh, Billie hummed as her vision came into consciousness, body snuggling closer to whatever was providing it warmth. Lavender soon clouded her senses, and so Billie Dean finally fixated on the face in front of her. Her lips mirrored Wilhemina’s sleepy smile. Was she watching me? “Hi,” Billie croaked out, as sweet as she could manage in her state.

“Hello.” Venable’s smile grew as her cheeks began to tint for some reason. Down her legs, she felt as Billie Dean’s foot caressed her own. “I hope I didn’t wake you.”

Billie shook her head before hiding her face against the pillow to cover a yawn. Her hand reached for Wilhemina’s waist and pulled her closer. “You didn’t.” She looked back at dark brown eyes. “I wouldn’t have minded if you had, though.”

Venable nodded at the words as spidery fingers slowly moved up to cup Billie Dean’s cheek. Wilhemina just stared at her for a minute before taking a deep breath. “I like waking up next to you,” she whispered. I didn’t know not being alone could ever feel this way.

Coral fingernails scratched softly against the cloth of Venable’s purple pajamas, caressing her waist and the small of her back. Billie Dean leaned closer and kissed her gently on the lips. I hope my breath is tolerable. “I like waking up next to you, too,” she whispered back. Wilhemina stared at her like she was made of all the stars in the universe, eyes shining and all. Billie couldn’t help but pull her even closer, and this time Venable’s hand fell down to her waist and pulled her closer, too. Their bodies left no space between each other, breaths mingling. “I sleep pretty well when I’m with you… you’re warm and you don’t snore,” she teased.

Chuckling lowly, Wilhemina bit her lip to stop her smile from growing too much. “Why, thank you. I could say the same, but your feet are freezing,” she teased back, because being playful didn’t come with a sentence of being punished when it came to Billie Dean.

With a laugh, Billie made sure her feet were well tangled with Venable’s. “I don’t know why they’re so cold.”

Wilhemina hummed. She reached for the hand that caressed her waist and tangled her fingers with Billie Dean’s. “So is your hand.” She caressed the cold digits between her own, trying to warm them up. “Are you cold?”

“Not really.” Billie licked her lips, and part of her heart still melted every time she was reminded of how just how caring Venable was with her. “Are you?”

“No,” Wilhemina shook her head. She let go of Billie Dean’s hand and now caressed her arm, even though Billie had said she wasn’t cold. Billie Dean didn’t mind, not at all. She kept a smile printed on her lips. “Are you hungry?” I should have bought some pastries.

“A little.”

“I can cook us an omelette, or maybe I can go out and get a few pastries, if you’d like. There’s this—“

“Wilhie,” Billie Dean cut Venable gently just as she was about to start lifting the covers to get out of bed. Wilhemina looked at her. “Can we cuddle a little?”

With her cheeks turning purple, Venable nodded. She blinked twice before slowly snuggling closer to Billie again. “Sorry,” she whispered.

Billie Dean shook her head. Hadn’t it been Wilhemina, she could have thought that maybe there was something wrong with her, but being Venable, she knew she was simply eager to please. “You don’t have to apologize,” she whispered back. Her hand found its place on Wilhemina’s waist again, caressing it. She’s always so anxious.

With a nod, brown eyes fell down. Venable took a deep breath. I’m so idiotic. The deprecating voice was already up and running. She gulped and looked back at honey oceans, legs tangling back with Billie’s. After a moment, she spoke again. “I like cuddling with you,” she said, because part of her felt like Billie Dean could maybe be thinking otherwise, and she didn’t want to ever cause Billie Dean to think like that.

She’s worried. Opening a smile, Billie reached to pull a strand of read hair away from Venable’s eyes. “I know, darling. I didn’t think otherwise.”

Darling. Wilhemina didn’t know if her stomach would ever stop turning with the pet name. This is the second time she’s called me that. How delicious did it feel? “Good,” she murmured somewhat shyly.

Billie Dean hummed back, hand caressing her waist slowly, feeling as it rose and fell with Venable’s breathing. She stared at those chocolate eyes in front of her, watching the way they moved away and back to her own. She’s shy. Her lips curled up softly. “Did you dream of anything?”

Wilhemina shook her head, eyes struggling to stay at brown ones. “Not that I remember. Did you?”

Billie Dean had actually had a dream; she saw a woman, hair red just like Venable’s, face full of suffering and with lines well marked. She cried, but couldn’t speak. Wilhemina didn’t need to know that. “Not really.” Venable hummed. Billie licked her lips, eyes tracing the soft freckles on Wilhemina’s cheeks. “I love your freckles,” she said after a second.

To be stared at like that had never felt good… not until Billie Dean. Venable’s skin grew red still, but not from being uncomfortable. “I’m not a huge fan of them…”

What’s new? Wilhemina didn’t seem to be a huge fan of anything that made her who she was. Billie didn’t need to point that out, but she did keep that in mind. “You always cover them, don’t you?” Venable nodded. Billie Dean opened a sad smile. “I love them,” she repeated.

Wilhemina gulped. She nodded again, eyes falling down before going back up. She licked her sudden dry lips. “Thank you.”

Billie couldn’t help but smile a little more. It was clear Venable wasn’t used to being complimented, or having any kind of intimacy with people, but there was something so sweet about it… so strangely pure, in a way. Most people wouldn’t see it that way, but Billie Dean had never been most people. So she leaned closer and placed a small kiss on Wilhemina’s nose, and then another one on her left cheek, and another one on her right one, right on top of the freckles. Wilhemina blinked twice, and with a chuckle Billie Dean kissed her full on the lips, reaching to cup her face.

Sunday went by with nothing but sweet kisses being shared and a movie or two being watched. When the night began to fall down again, Billie Dean hesitantly went back home, but with the promise of seeing each other on Monday morning. Billie knew she should have talked about Terry; knew she should have brought it up before anyone else had the chance, but how could she when Venable looked at her so lovingly and gave her more trust than she had ever given anyone in a long time? Billie Dean simply didn’t have the guts to do it. And she prayed no one would before she could master the courage to do so.

At night, Wilhemina caught herself missing the warmth of another body next to her. Floratta Blue lingered in the air only slightly, and Venable wished she could smell more of it. Fear clouded her senses before sleep could, trying to trick her, trying to scare her. Wilhemina closed her eyes and thought about Billie; about the kiss they shared just before she entered her car and drove home that evening. Nothing would change in the morning. Nothing would change in the week. Right?

#rabexxpaulson #would you swallow all your pride?#ahs #would you swallow all your pride #wysayp #ahs murder house #ahs apocalypse #ahs hotel #ahs fanfiction #willhemina venable #billie dean x wilhemina venable #billie dean howard #american horror story #ahs fanfic #lesbian fanfiction #lesbian fanfic #lesbian story #lesbian

17 notes · View notes

bluerthanvelvet444 · 1 month

Text

°✵.｡.✰ 𝕔𝕠𝕞𝕖 𝕠𝕦𝕥 𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝕙𝕒𝕦𝕟𝕥 𝕞𝕖, 𝕀 𝕜𝕟𝕠𝕨 𝕪𝕠𝕦 𝕨𝕒𝕟𝕥 𝕞𝕖 ✰.｡.✵°

Tate Langdon x fem!reader

tags: fluff! super fluff!

warnings: none. no use of y/n.

summary: reader has trouble sleeping due to the hot temperature.

character count: 5k.

full fic under the cut ↓

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

She glanced at the old-fashioned clock that sat on her nightstand.

2.25 AM.

Damn it. She snorted and turned in her bed multiple times, rolling on her side to try desperately to get some relief and possibly some sleep too. It was a hot summer night, mid-July. Typical you'd say, but the warmth of that specific night was unbearable. Beads of sweat danced on her skin and fell down into the mattress. She huffed, fed up. She felt trapped in that heated room, her skin fusing with the thin sheets underneath her. She so desperately needed something, but what?

She abruptly got up-which caused her to feel slightly dizzy- and opened her door and window, in hope to get even the slightest chilly and fresh breeze of the night. "Useless" she thought. She walked towards the bed again and plopped onto it. She was now laying in a star position on the bed. Open arms, open legs, and most importantly- open wide eyes, staring at the ceiling waiting for the shadows to clear so that she could get up and live another day. Nothing. The darkness stayed dark. Not a single movement was captured by her eyes. Not a single sound heard. The room was completely silent, the only noise a bit more distinguishable was her breathing. The steady rhythm that caused her chest to rise up and down.

Up and down.

Up and dow-

“You should take a shower. You're all sweaty.”

That unmistakable voice rang through her ears. Tate. Tate Langdon. One of the many ghosts that haunted that hellhole of a house. He was the most annoying one. She could almost hear the shit-eating smirk, that he always had on his stupid face, just by the way he spoke. She hated it. She sighed and plopped on her elbows.

“You should knock on the door before entering. It's common sense, and you might find an unpleasant scene.”

“You left the door open. Anyone could've seen your 'unpleasant scene.' So what's the matter? Can't sleep?”

She rolled her eyes at the rhetorical question he asked. She despised it. That tone in his voice, like he always found everything a stupid thing to joke and be cocky about.

“It's too hot in here. My skin's melting.”

He grinned in his usual teasing way. He was wearing his striped sweater, the sight of it only was making her sweat.

“Sounds fun. Do you need help?” He asked, with that same monotone voice.

“Help with what? Melting?”

“Sleeping.”

Oh. He wanted to help. He wanted to help? Was he stupid or what? Well, yes, anything impossible could be possible in the Murder House, but it's not like he could magically change the temperature and make it all better. Couldn't he?

“And how exactly would you do that?”

She saw the tiniest grin form on his mouth. He gave her a slight chuckle and crawled on the-what used to be his-bed.

“C'mere.”

Pardon? Come where? Did he want her to sit on his lap or something? Uhhhh weird. Super weird. She was confused, sure, but what else could she do? Stick her head in the refrigerator and hope none of the trapped souls would take advantage of her? No, thanks. She rolled her eyes and scooted slightly closer to him.

“So? What's the plan?”

He chuckled.

God, that stupid laugh.

He reached out with his hand to touch her, but before he could do that, she raised her brow and scooted away.

“What the hell are you trying to do?”

“It's gonna make it better...do you trust me?”

“No.”

“That's the only choice you have.”

“...Fine.”

She scooted back to her previous spot next to him and, with a hesitant and unsure expression on her face, she watched his hand come closer and eventually rest on her shoulder.

Cold.

His hand was cold.

Of course it was. He was dead, after all. Why hadn't she thought about this earlier?

She sighed and unconsciously leaned into his touch, closing her eyes at the feeling of relief she was so badly seeking and finally found. He smiled and motioned for her to come closer. She nodded and crawled a bit closer so that she was sitting between his legs and her back was pressed up against his cold chest. His arms wrapped gently around her waist, his cold hand grazing slightly her exposed tummy.

“Better?”

“So much better.”

She sighed contentedly. Finally.

That chilly feeling was something she could've gotten addicted to. This is why a more lucid version of her would've slapped her as soon as she said the following words.

“Thank you.”

She mumbled, drunk off the cold feeling. Even though she couldn't see it, Tate's lips curled in a small smile, and with a deep, caring voice he spoke.

“Anything for you.”

She was obviously sleepy, and her mind had clearly drifted off to better places, so she probably never acknowledged the words that came out of his mouth. Or maybe she did, but she was too stubborn to admit that his stupid smile, his icky laugh, his mocking tone, were starting to grow on her, and she could've possibly gotten used to falling asleep to them. After all, she hated it…how hard loving him was. Tate Langdon, the sweetest ghost in the house, once the mysterious and cocky facade he put on was scraped away.

The last thing she heard was a smacking lips sound due to his frozen lips pressing gently over her forehead. Or maybe she also heard a faint “I love you”. Who knows?

Anything in the Murder House is possible.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Autor's note: aaaahhhhhh this is the first fic I've ever writtennnnn!!! this took me sooo long. I'm really getting into writing so if you have any ideas or prompts about what I should write next, feel free to suggest! hope you like it, i put my whole self in this (especially with the grammar!!)💙💙

join my taglist!!