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defectivevillain · 4 months ago

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better the devil

pairing: Stu Macher/transmasc! reader

the reader is transmasc and is referred to with he/him pronouns. otherwise, race is ambiguous and no physical descriptors are used.

summary: You meet Stu Macher at a party and he takes an interest in you. …If only you knew how dangerous that would be.

word count: 2.6k | ao3 version

warnings: canon-typical blood/gore/murder/violence, unwanted romantic advances (physical proximity, implied flirting) from a side character, and spoilers to Scream 1. There’s also one short moment where the reader thinks he will be misgendered, but he isn’t.

author's notes: I need a Stu/trans!masc reader fic. I NEED IT. So I’m here to deliver. Because sometimes you have to be the change you want to see in the world.

Three things: 1) just like many other shorts in this Spooktober series, the pacing of this fic will be a bit fast; 2) we’re going to pretend Stu isn’t dating Tatum; and 3) this is not canon compliant, but it still has spoilers.

The title of this fic is from Better the Devil by Z Berg. It's from Strange Darling.

You’re lost in your thoughts as you head down the hall of this unfamiliar house, weaving around people in an attempt to find some more space. You’re too distracted to notice the guy with short blond hair heading in the same direction, until you’re bumping into him.

“Oh, my bad,” he says, steadying you with a hand on your shoulder. “Sorry, dude.” He’s looking past your shoulder, as if preoccupied with something. You apologize too and he looks at you upon hearing your voice. You instinctively wait for a flustered apology (“I’m sorry, I thought you were-”). But instead, he’s just staring at you. It’s a bit unnerving.

After a few seconds, you decide to keep walking. At least, you try—but the guy is soon blocking your path. He’s pretty tall. “Hey, where are you going?” He asks, slinging an arm around your shoulder. You immediately get the sense that this guy isn’t trying to be invasive—he’s just a bit brazen. It’s a friendly gesture. “Running away so fast… you scared or something?” A hint of a lopsided smile rises on his face.

“No,” you frown, shoving your hands in your pockets.

“Good!” He grins. It’s an endearing sight, and you immediately chastise yourself for thinking so. “Say, what’s your name? You look familiar.” With that remark, you realize he looks familiar too. You introduce yourself and recognition passes over his face. “Oh, shit, we have math together.”

“Oh,” you remark, suddenly able to make the connection. “You’re… Stu?”

“The one and only,” he responds. “So, where are you off to in such a hurry?” He asks, raising a brow.

You just shrug, glancing at the staircase. Stu follows your eyes, noticing your brief lapse in attention. “I wouldn’t go upstairs if I were you,” he says, his eyes glittering with amusement. “Billy and Sid are gonna be up there soon. Could get loud.” There’s a playful grin on his face. Stu’s arm is still around your shoulders and his grip tightens for a fraction of a second.

The insinuation he just made is not lost on you, and you can’t quite hide a grimace at the thought. Stu just laughs. “You like horror movies?”

You nod and he brightens, leading you towards the living room and onto the couch, where a group is watching Halloween. You opt to sit on one end on the couch, trying to take up less space and enforcing some distance between you and these strangers. Stu settles on a chair behind the couch, but over the course of the movie, he taps the girl next to you on the shoulder and she moves. Then Stu is jumping over the back of the couch and sidling up next to you. He’s almost close enough to be touching you, and as the movie continues, your shoulders start to brush up against each other’s.

It’s hard to focus on the movie with Stu next to you. Not only is the proximity making you nervous, but Stu is also pretty restless. He’s almost always moving: constantly fidgeting and tapping his fingers or his foot; whispering under his breath. And as if you don’t have enough to be nervous about, a random girl decides the armrest mere inches from you is a viable place to sit. Now you’re sandwiched between this stranger and Stu, and the girl keeps glancing at you unsubtly. You don’t know what to do, especially when you notice that she seems to be drifting closer and closer to you. At some point, she’s going to be in your lap. The thought makes you move closer to Stu, attempting to put more distance between you and the stranger.

Stu’s attention is taken from the movie and he looks over at you, comprehension evidently dawning on him as he sees the girl leaning towards you. Stu’s emotional intelligence is clearly high, as he immediately senses you’re uncomfortable and gets to his feet.

“We’re going to the kitchen,” he says, tugging you up with him before you can object. “You can sit here, Sarah.” He says innocently, turning his back and heading for the kitchen. You follow after him, relieved to have an escape from that awkward situation.

Stu looks through the fridge and grabs a beer, before taking a big sip and looking over at you. “What’s up with you?” He asks after a few seconds of silence. “Sarah was totally flirting with you. Couldn’t take her eyes off of you. But you just sat there like a fuckin’ statue.” Stu is looking at you expectantly, waiting for an explanation.

You look down into your cup, feeling the need to avoid eye contact. “I wasn’t interested.” You murmur. “Besides, I don’t know her.” The excuse even sounds flimsy to you; Stu just raises his eyebrows, a smile on his face. It looks slightly strained.

“Half the guys here would kill to have her attention,” he says, looking out into the other room. A strangely dark expression flickers across his face—so quickly you’re sure you imagined it. Then Stu’s shrugs. “She seemed pretty desperate, though.” He finishes.

You nod in agreement, grateful to be spared from any further discussion on the matter. “We’ll find someone for ya,” Stu says with a grin, stepping over so he’s standing at your side and staring out into the living room. “We’ve got all night.”

You’re not sure why he’s doing any of this. From what you’ve heard, Stu is a pretty popular guy. He shouldn’t even be interested in speaking to you or knowing your name—let alone your romantic prospects. Why is he still entertaining all of this? Hell, you would’ve been less surprised if he shoved you to the ground after you bumped into him earlier. Yet he was nothing but kind to you, and he continues to act as if you’re actually worth talking to. You don’t understand it.

When Stu leaves to get some more beers—with a cheeky “I’ll be right back…!” and a fake gasp—you only have more time to contemplate that notion. Stu’s never shown particular interest in you before, but then again, you’d never spoken until today. You sit near the back of the classroom, on the opposite side as him. You don’t talk much during that class either, so there would really be no reason for him to notice you.

You must be zoned out for a while, because your thoughts are only broken off with the realization that all the partygoers are leaving. You blink and watch as they all whisper amongst themselves and exchange worried glances, before filtering out of the house and leaving you standing alone in the kitchen. Frowning, you head back into the living room—only to hear a scream that makes your blood run cold. A shiver runs down your spine as you hear a loud commotion outside. Before you can think any better of it, you’re heading outside to see what happened. It doesn't take long for you to find the commotion: Sidney Prescott is standing next to a car with a smashed roof, staring at the garage door of the house.

“Are you okay-?” Your voice dies in your throat as you see the blood splattered across her skin and the sheer horror written all over her face. Sidney points wordlessly at the garage door, where a girl—Tatum, you think— is hanging limply from the pet flap. Bile climbs up your throat and you stare ahead in terrified disbelief, unable to believe your eyes. As foolish as it sounded, you assumed you would be safe at a party—with the sheer amount of people. It seems that wasn’t the case.

Before Sidney and you can begin to comprehend what’s happening, there’s a harsh sound as a knife is dragged along the nearby car. The killer is standing behind you in a mask, and they quickly lurch forwards. Sidney and you run in opposite directions, and the killer races after Sidney.

For a while, you kneel in the bushes outside the front of the house, before summoning the courage to go into the home. You need to call the police, check for any other survivors, and find a weapon. You take slow, light steps as you cautiously walk through the door. The living room is now abandoned, with the movie still playing. Randy or any of the other remaining students are nowhere in sight.

It happens in the blink of an eye. One moment, you’re glancing around the corner; the next, you’re just barely dodging a shape hurtling at you. The killer is back. You avoid their attempt at a tackle, and their knife sinks into the hardwood flooring near your head with an audible thunk. You kick at them and they reel backwards momentarily. Taking advantage of the momentary opportunity, you turn and attempt to get to your feet to run away—only for them to grab your ankle and yank you backwards. You twist to the side and the knife goes into the flooring near your side, tearing off some of your skin and wrenching a hiss from your lips.

You can’t dodge the third blow, as the knife hurtles down towards your face. Terrified, you block your face with a hand—and the killer stabs through your palm, exerting a lot of force and attempting to push the knife down into your skull. You grab at their wrist with your free hand and try to shove them off, but they have a distinct advantage in their position. The blade is a breath away from lodging into your temple; it’s pure adrenaline and terror that fight the killer off long enough for them to rip the knife from your hand and attempt to stab you again. You turn around and kick them in the face, scrambling to your feet and racing through the house. You run up the stairs, your heart roaring in your ears as you turn down a hall and duck into a walk-in closet, closing the door behind you quietly and hiding behind a rack of clothing. You’re quick to place a hand over your mouth and attempt to calm your breathing, despite your panic.

You hear the killer head down the hall moments later; you’re not sure how long you wait, stifling your panicked breaths, before creeping out of the closet and descending the stairs. You can hardly turn into the next room before you’re freezing, dread washing over you.

Sarah, the girl from before, is crumpled on the ground in a huge puddle of blood. There’s a stab wound in her chest and… her eyes are gouged out. Your ears are ringing. “She couldn’t take her eyes off of you.” Stu had said. Something ugly settles at the pit of your stomach. You immediately try to back away, only to collide with someone.

You’re hit with déjà vu. A mere few hours ago, you bumped into Stu just like this. And now, you twist around to find the same killer from before, standing behind you and wielding a knife. But his mask isn’t splattered with blood, and you remember your blood spraying all over the killer when he stabbed your hand.

…Are there two of them?

Your horrified thoughts must show on your face, as the killer tilts their head to the side before reaching up to take off their mask. “So,” a far too familiar voice says lightly. The mask rises to reveal Stu staring at you with a twisted grin. You feel like you’re going to throw up. “Guess you figured it out.” Stu looks at the knife in his hand as it catches the light, before pointing it to your neck. You immediately take a step back, only for him to follow with a step forward. This routine continues, until your back is hitting a wall and you’re trapped.

“I gotta say, this is a good look for you,” Stu remarks. He reaches out with a bloodstained hand and you can’t suppress a flinch. This seems to amuse him, as a smile rises on his face and he continues reaching closer. Eventually, his hand cradles your cheek and his thumb drags a bloody smear down your face. Then it pauses right at the corner of your lips. Your breath stutters in his chest at the heat in his gaze, and for a moment he almost seems to press you further into the wall—

Then there’s a grip on the nape of your neck, and you’re yanked off the wall by your shirt collar, shoved to the side and into the kitchen. With the knife still firmly pressed to your throat, you have no choice but to follow along with Stu’s movements. When you enter the kitchen, you lock eyes with a terrified Sidney and your heart breaks. You had hoped she would escape. It seems that wasn’t the case.

What happens after must be a dream sequence. That’s the only way your mind can make sense of it, as Stu and Billy reveal they’ve been working together to get revenge on Sidney for her mother’s role in Billy’s parents’ divorce. They also kidnapped Sidney’s father, intending to frame him for the murders before killing him and making it look like a suicide. Honestly, none of it makes much sense to your pain-addled mind. Your comprehension of their motive is only further stalled by the knife to your throat, and the intense, scrutinizing gaze you’re pinned under.

Billy seems particularly displeased that you’re here, but after some argument with Stu (“You had your fun, now let me have mine!”) the two of them move on. Now, they’re stabbing one another—evidently to make it seem as if they’re victims. Billy stabs Stu rather hard, and Stu’s soon stumbling and breathing hard.

It’s then that Gale Weathers appears. At this point, you’re tapped out—on the verge of falling unconscious. A chase of sorts ensues, where Billy goes after Gale and Sidney goes after Billy. Stu is losing a lot of blood, falling to the ground and pressing a hand to his wound. With everyone distracted, you find Sidney’s father in a closet and free him. When you come down the stairs with him, you find Sidney, Randy (how he survived, you have no clue), and Gale standing over Billy’s dead body. Sidney isn’t fazed when the killer suddenly lurches upwards with renewed life, instead putting a bullet through his temple and ensuring he won’t get back up again.

And… that’s that. Against all odds, you survived… and Sidney did too. You’re still reeling from the fact that Stu was one of the killers, especially after his kindness at the party earlier. That only brings up even more questions as to his motives. If he was going to kill you, why would he bother wasting time with you like that?

Nothing about tonight makes sense, and the others seem to agree. With the police on their way, the survivors are left to wait on the front porch—fighting off exhaustion and pain. The moment you hear ambulance sirens in the distance, your body gives in and you’re passing out.

You wake some time later to find yourself in the hospital. You’re told that you’ll make a full recovery within a few days, with rest and nutrition. Randy, Sidney, and Gail are all fine; but Tatum, Sarah, and several others are dead. Billy Loomis is dead. And… Stu Macher’s whereabouts are currently unknown.

You’ve survived. In the days that follow, your wounds begin to heal. But even as your injuries are patched up, the scars will always remain. And the thought of Stu, out there somewhere and very much alive, haunts you for the years to come.

thanks for reading! <3

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#defectivevillain #spooktober #scream #scream movies #scream 1 #scream 1996 #stu macher #Stu Macher x reader #Stu Macher x male reader #Stu Macher x transmasc reader #male reader #transmasc reader #m reader #x male reader

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kortsitron · 2 months ago

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Coming Out

✮ PARING Bucky Barnes × Trans Male! Reader

✮ WARNINGS/TAGS 40's, catfa! bucky, supportive! bucky, bisexual! bucky, pre-transition reader, gender dysphoria, established relationship, misgendering, coming out(s), anxiety, fluff, unsafe binding, suggestive themes but no smut, angst, hurt/comfort, mentions of transphobia, praises

✮ SUMMARY Bucky finds out you're trans amd decides to show his support for you

✮ A/N I haven't written much for my trans men lately, so I wanted to write something again. You can say it's kinda inspired by confessions (another fic of mine), but this goes a little differently. I also wanna add - do NOT use bandages to bind your chest, it is not safe. Please get a binder and if that is not impossible, buy breast tape and use it to flatten your chest down if possible. Please stay safe while binding!!

ao3 masterlist requests

Being Bucky's girlfriend wasn't exactly bad, it was quite the opposite actually. He loved taking you out on dates, he was respectful of your boundaries and he was a gentleman like no other. Not to mention, since he was a Sergeant you felt quite safe around him. No man dared to lay his hands on you.

You couldn't ask for a better boyfriend and you were happy with him.

But you were scared to tell him how you felt. How you couldn't bare pretending to be someone you were not. Wearing those dresses, not being able to cut your hair as short as you wanted, calling yourself the name that didn't feel like yours anymore.

You were dying to tell him, but at the same time you were scared he might break up with you or worse. You knew James was not a bad man, he was pretty accepting, but it didn't stop your worries.

After a long day at work, you saw him waiting outside the Cafe with the biggest grin on his face. “Hey, doll.” He greeted you as you exited through the door.

“Someone looks happy. Something happened?” You asked with a hint of teasing to your tone as you walked over to him.

“Can't a man just be happy to see his beautiful, amazing girlfriend?” He asked, taking your hand and giving your knuckles a soft, sweet kiss.

You had to stop yourself from grimacing at the word ‘girlfriend’, but you managed. Maybe because he was being so sweet towards you.

“Planning on taking me somewhere?” You asked, trying to change the subject in case you were going to hear more comments that, despite being made in good faith, were making you uncomfortable.

“I was thinking we could go to my place, maybe cuddle.” He shrugged before wrapping his arm around your waist.

“Just cuddle? Or are you going to make me get into Hobbit?” You asked with a small grin as you started walking towards Bucky's house.

“Oh come on.” He let out a playful whine. “It's a good book. Trust me, I'll get you into it eventually.”

“Keep on trying.”

Bucky’s place wasn’t far and almost as soon as the two of you got there, he got into the bed and pulled you on top of him. And there you were, on top of shirtless Bucky who couldn't get his hands off of you.

“I can't get enough of you.” Bucky murmured, his hands going up and down the soft flesh of your thighs. He bit down on his bottom lip, you were the most gorgeous thing in his eyes.

You let out a soft chuckle at his words, and he smiled at that. It was always so nice to be around him, he was able to make you smile and laugh like no other.

“Let’s get you out of that, hmm?” He hummed, while relaxed enough you forgot about one little, tiny but very important detail.

He started taking the dress off you, and then he saw it. His eyes widened as he saw your chest. Tightly bandaged around your chest, making it flatter than it was normally. His eyes held worry for you, did someone hurt? Did something happen to you?

“Are you hurt?” He sat up a little as he asked the question. He wanted to touch your chest, but he was worried he would hurt you.

You look down at your chest, before trying to cover yourself up. He wasn’t supposed to find out, at least not now. At the moment, under his gaze all you could feel was shame. All you could think about was that he was going to break up with you.

With your heart already pounding in your chest, you started getting off of him in a hurried way. Bucky immediately picked up your panic and he grabbed your wrist. Tightly enough to not let you slip out, but not enough to make it hurt.

“Hey, hey…” His voice was a little more gentle now, hushed. His thumb was gently caressing your wrist. “I am worried about you. Did something happen? You aren’t hurt, are you?” His eyes flickered down to the bandages, looking for any blood stains. But there was none, just the clean bandage, carefully wrapped around your chest.

“You… You promise you won’t throw me out…?”

His eyes widened once more. Throw you out? You?

"Darlin’, I could never. Why would I ever throw you out?” He couldn't understand why you would think like that.

With a shaky sigh and tears in your eyes, you laid down next to him. Bucky laid back on the back, staying quiet and letting you find the right words.

“I-I don’t feel… good about my body.” You mumbled out, your voice shaky. Bucky saw that you weren’t okay, but decided not to interrupt you. He gently grabbed your hand, giving it a squeeze as if encouraging you to talk without saying so out loud.

“I d-don’t feel like a woman, alright?” Your voice was even more shaky. Before you knew it, you started sobbing quietly, overwhelmed by the confession you made. “I want to be a man like you. I want to be seen as a man, dress like a man, look like a man. I just want to be me.”

Without a second thought, Bucky wrapped his arms around you, pulling close against his chest. One of his hands caressed your back, hoping to comfort you.

He was quiet, lost in his thoughts before he finally spoke up. “I heard there’s a man… Well, a woman actually, who had the same problem as you. She was born as a man, but she didn’t feel like one, so she decided to stop pretending who she was and now she’s just… herself.”

“Really?”

Bucky hummed. “Yeah. I think we saw her last week, you said she had a nice dress. I think her name was Annie or something along those lines.”

You didn’t know there was another person like you out there. You felt so isolated in your own experience, you didn’t notice others who were able to understand you. Understand what you were going through.

“Are you… are you going to break up with me?” You asked as quietly as you could, you were terrified to hear a positive answer.

Bucky pulled back to look at your tear-stained face. He gently cupped it, making you look into his eyes as he smiled at you. “Never, love. I love you so much. It doesn’t matter if you’re a man or a woman. You’re my boyfriend, okay?” He kissed your forehead.

Boyfriend.

You were waiting so long to hear something like that and it felt so damn good to finally hear it.

Bucky let go of you and left the bed. “Where are you going?” You asked, not understanding what he wanted to do.

“I think I have something you might wanna wear instead of that dress. No matter how pretty it is.” He teased you a little, but his words held no malice. They were quite affectionate, actually.

He walked back to you with a simple shirt and a pair of pants. “What do you think, huh? Enough to your liking? Or would my baby like a suit more, hmm?” He had a smile on his face, almost as if excited about this whole thing.

You were so worried he might be disgusted with you and yet there he was, smiling at you after you told him.

“They'll be fine. Thank you, James.” Your soft answer made his heart skip a beat.

“No problem. What kind of partner would I be if I left all by yourself when you're struggling so hard?” He gave your forehead a small kiss. “You're stuck with me, doll.”

He put the clothes down on the bed, his eyes wandering to your chest once more. He let out a sigh, his expression more serious than before.

“As much as I want to support you, you can't be wearing those. It's definitely not safe.”

“I know, I just wanted my chest to be flatter.” You explained, with a small hint of desperation in your voice.

“I know, I know. Listen, we will find a way to help you, okay?” His voice was soft, almost as if he was worried he might not express his concern properly. He wanted to support you, but he was still worried about your safety.

“We will find a safer alternative. As much as I believe you meant no harm, I just can tell your ribs will not be happy if you keep bandaging yourself for longer than just a day.” He continued, his eyes not leaving yours.

His hand moved to your cheek and he smiled at you. “You're not alone and you won't be as long as I am here. With me, you can be yourself. I will do what I can to help you.”

You nodded before giving him a tight hug. “Thank you so much.” Bucky wrapped his arms tightly around you before letting go.

“Go on.” He encouraged as he gestured towards the clothes. “I know you're dying to try them on.”

You let out an excited giggle, taking the clothes into your hand and making your way to the bathroom, almost tripping over as you did.

“Careful. We don't need you all bruised, do we?” Bucky commented with a small smirk before letting out a small chuckle.

While you disappeared behind a bathroom door, Buck had a little moment to think about the whole situation.

Was he expecting that? No. Should he? Probably.

He wasn't going to break up with you, he was too in love with you to care about your gender. You were still the same person he fell in love with over a year ago.

If anything, he was much more concerned about your safety. He knew there were people who would not be as accepting as he was.

Heck, he still remembered how he was walking the poor Annie home after a few guys jumped her sometime ago. Bucky wasn't going to pretend the thought of something similar happening to you didn't make his stomach turn.

You were safe with him, but on your own? He was scared to find out.

The sound of the door opening took Bucky out of his thoughts. He looked towards it and saw you, dressed in what he gave you, along with your hair being tied in a way that made your hair appear shorter than it actually was.

Bucky let out a low whistle at the sight. “Now that's one hell of a man.” His eyes wandered over you, his smile returning. “Well, well, well. If someone really says my boyfriend isn't the most handsome, we will know they are lying.”

His smile widened when he saw how happy you were at the praises.

“C'mere, darling. Let me hold my pretty boy.” He patted his lap, inviting you to sit on it.

You eagerly sat down on his lap. “Look at you, so handsome.” His hand moved to gently grab your chin so he could look at your face.

“You think so?” You asked a little more shyly, as you wrapped your arms around his neck.

“Absolutely. Now I wonder how you would look in a suit.” He bit his lip once more. “I bet you would look good. Like really, really good.” He moved to leave a few kisses down your neck.

“Okay, okay. I get it. Enough praises.” You giggled at the feeling of his soft lips against your neck.

“Enough? You don't like my praises? I am wounded.” He pulled back and mocked, pretending to be hurt by your words.

His eyes wandered over you once more. It was nice to see you like this, visibly happier and more confident than before.

“You know… handsome,” He murmured, his smile falling once more. At first he wanted to call you by the name he was used to calling you, but after what you told him, he thought against it. “As much as I want to support you, I need you to be careful, okay? I am not telling you to not start pressing yours in a more masculine way, of course, you do you. I worry someone might hurt you for trying to be yourself.”

You nodded quietly. World was not as pleasant of a place for those who were sticking out, purposely or not. “I know, Buck. But I don't wanna pretend to be someone I am not.”

Bucky let out a quiet sigh. He expected that kind of answer. “I know, doll. I know.” He moved closer to you, his forehead against yours as he closed his eyes. “I will do what I can to protect you from harm's way. We will find a way for you to be yourself safely, okay?”

You hummed with a soft nod. “Gonna find me a good hairstylist?” You asked with a small smile, hoping to lighten up the mood.

He let out a snort at your words. “Definitely. If I wasn't worried I might leave with an uneven haircut, I would do it myself.” He chuckled. “But I think I might know a safe place where you can get a haircut. I mean, I have a friend who owns a nice, small hairdressing salon. I heard from a friend that he doesn't mind people from the community unlike some.”

You let out a hum before you smirked a little. “You have contacts with the community? I don't know about something?” You teased him lightly.

“What can I say? Women are pretty, but some men are also eye-catchers.” He winked at you. “But seriously, I will talk to him if you want to.”

You nodded once more. “It means a lot, James. Thank you.”

“It's no problem, love.”

#marvel #marvel x reader #james bucky buchanan barnes #james bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes #bucky #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x trans reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x male reader #bucky barnes x trans male reader #bucky barnes x ftm reader #ftm reader #trans male reader

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