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choerypetal · 7 months ago

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Their Princess / Billy Loomis x Stu Macher

Summary: Billy and Stu have one motivation for their killing spree: to make you theirs, regardless of whether you realize they are Ghostface. They will stop at nothing to achieve this.

ps; english isn't my first language so i apologize for any grammar errors xoxo

Being close to Sidney meant enduring her gossip, endless talk about boyfriends, and tantrums over the next party at Tatum's house. Now, with a serial killer on the loose and a mandatory curfew in place, you had to deal with Stu constantly trailing you. Clutching your books to your chest, you tried to focus elsewhere, only to bump into the talk of the town—Billy himself.

"Y/N..." His voice sang in your ear, just enough for Stu to rush to your side, his silhouette eclipsing your own. He leaned in close, nestling into the crook of your neck. You were fortunate that neither Tatum nor Sidney was there to witness it—unless their initial motive was evident from the first glance they shared. A glance of deceit, perhaps, when Stu’s pouty lips appeared as Billy spelled out your name, letter by letter. "Coming to this weekend’s party?" Billy asked, raising his brows while barely breaking his gaze. Stu’s sly fingers brushed your shoulder, tempting you not to react, especially under Billy’s intense stare.

You were taken aback by the question. Yes, Tatum had invited you—practically begged you to come because one of Randy’s friends would be there, and she wanted to set you up with him. Naturally, this information made its way back to Billy, thanks to Stu, who had overheard the entire conversation. His clingy hands were all over Tatum’s, trying to resist thinking about you the whole time.

"That would be great for Y/N, don't you think?" Her innocent question nearly made Stu choke on his drink that night. It was clear, the plan was to make you the grand finale. Not you with someone else. Someone who couldn’t satisfy their girl. Tatum smacked Stu’s chest, startled by his reaction, and nodded innocently with a chuckle. "Right, right," he said, obviously annoyed. "It sure would be great for Y/N."

“Yes,” you said, your voice as soft as he expected. His lips curved into a smirk, and he bit his bottom lip, resisting the urge to devour you on sight, especially with the new skirt you had bought– thanks to Tatum. “Loving the new skirt,” he whispered, making you blush. Stu eagerly agreed. “Maybe our girl should wear that skirt this weekend,” he purred from behind you, his breath almost touching your skin. Billy quickly snapped Stu out of it with a sharp tap on the back of his neck. “What did we say about public intimacy?” Billy’s voice was almost a threat.

Stu gulped silently. "Right," he said, smirking in perfect sync with Billy. Billy nodded, his gaze fixed on you, the main topic of this weekend's party conversation. "So," he paused, his eyes scrutinizing you in a way that made you shift uncomfortably—it was the same intense look he gave Sidney. Which you weren’t. "You'll be there?" You had almost forgotten the main question and quickly nodded, feeling vulnerable. Your swift response made him chuckle, clearly enjoying how small you felt between them. “Yes..”

Billy huffed in silence, ready to leave. Stu slid his fingers around your waist. "See you this weekend, princess," he said. Billy, anxious to avoid suspicion, muttered something under his breath, careful not to make any devious stares around the school. Despite hating the idea, he couldn't help but steal glances over his shoulder as he walked away, thoughts of you on top of him driving him nearly crazy. Unlike Stu, though, he had some boundaries when it came to sharing.

The week flew by faster than you had expected. With the curfew in place, days ended earlier than usual, with bedtime set at 10 p.m. School was canceled until the suspect was caught, leaving you eager for some fresh air and the chance to join the Tatum’s party. The boys, especially Billy, were particularly impatient for your arrival. Particularly him, struggling to keep himself sane through the night, especially with Sidney wrapped around his finger. And you with another guy.

"Jeez, man, if you keep pacing like this, our plan won't work. You look way too obvious right now," Stu's voice echoed in Billy's mind as he moved to the living room, leaving Sidney waiting in the bedroom. Mistake number one was to be as inconspicuous as possible around everyone. Kill, then execute plans A and B, and finally claim you as theirs. Easy, right? Billy thought to himself. But then your name was called out, and Randy’s arm was a little too close for his liking. He reconsidered. "Randy won't always have her around. Soon enough, she'll come begging for her hero’s to save her," Stu had said, and Billy appreciated the comment. After all, why would you be with a complete nerd?

He nods silently, feeling his friend’s hand squeezing his shoulder. “Deal with Sid. I’ll deal with her. Treat her like the princess she is.” And he wasn’t entirely wrong, focusing all his attention on you. While he noticed Randy welcoming you with open arms and the others happily handing you a bottle of beer. Tatum back at the garage to grab some extra beers. Billy couldn’t help but steal glances in your direction before finally trying to distract himself. He immediately needed a distraction, one with Tatum, then moved on to Sidney. “Just don’t scare her yet, okay?” Even though he was the mastermind of his own plan, he didn’t want Stu—or you—to mess things up. And he definitely didn’t want you to know they were the Ghostface.

In a way, you kind of messed up their whole plan. Stu was doing everything he could to keep Tatum distracted and maintain Sidney’s obliviousness, as planned. Until you were completely out of his sight. Right after Randy had told you to go check up on Tatum. ‘The beers won’t be coming on their own’, he had said to you with a cocky grin. It wasn’t until you arrived at the garage yourself, hearing some muffled sounds, that you couldn’t help but smirk. With a party full of alcohol, girls, and boys, you didn’t think much of it. That is, until you heard the door swing open and came face to face with Mr. Ghostface, himself.

Billy's knife almost slipped from his hands as he saw you this close to him. Stu had just enough time to catch you, blinking twice to make sure he wasn't imagining things—Billy, and you. You, on the other hand, had a look on your face they both expected to see. "Y/N—" Stu’s voice was cut off by Billy’s stare from beneath his mask. You stood still, but the second you heard Stu’s voice, you wanted to run to him, hoping he would save you from this killer everyone was talking about. But then Billy’s grip tightened, catching you right into his trap.

“No, no, no…” Stu purrs, his sickening chuckle filling the air as he approaches you. Now in the middle, Billy had no pleasure of covering for himself. Because he knew you’d be on their side, meaning you’d do anything possible to avoid getting caught. Starting off with a proposition. “The game, only just started love,” Billy’s voice, unmistakably familiar, came from beneath his mask as he spoke and gently removed it. His face was covered in sweat, his eyes darkening as he glanced down at you. With a slight chuckle, he said, “Love the skirt,” as the knife gently touched the fabric. You could feel Stu’s breath on the crook of your neck. Just like at school, but now away from prying eyes.

You managed to exhale a few whimpers as Stu’s tongue traveled down your neck. Billy watched for a moment, sensing you had something on your mind. “Go on, spill it,” he demanded, his voice hoarse and threatening. Your muscles tensed as he gently pinned you against the wall. “Tatum—” you began, but Billy’s fingers traced down your waist and then touched your bottom lip. The tension between Stu’s pants and your skirt was unmistakable, the obvious bulge appearing beneath his pants. The friction among the three of you was undeniable. Your cheeks flushed with a shade of pink, which only made Billy enjoy it more. “I think she’s enjoying it,” Billy remarked, clearly trying to change the subject. Stu agreed, purring, “Oh, she does.”

"Boys, boys..." Your voice sounded so vulnerable to their ears that it took them by surprise. Initially, they thought you were afraid of discovering their true identities as Ghostface. However, as you spoke, it became clear that you didn't mind at all. In fact, you might have found Billy in the costume, with a slight droplet of blood on his cheek, somewhat attractive. Stu couldn't help but comment, "Princess doesn't seem to mind?" His remark, tinged with a mix of offense and confession, revealed his surprise at your attraction. Billy's eyes widened slightly, reflecting both shock and amusement as he watched you eyeing him up and down. "Oh, I bet she doesn't, does she?"

You hummed quietly, drawing chuckles from both men. Billy's knife glided gently down your body, stopping at your skirt to reveal a hint of your red underwear. "Loving the red on you," he remarked with his trademark smirk. Stu, unable to resist, let his fingers travel under your skirt to grip your rear. "How about we treat our princess the way she deserves?" he suggested, his tongue now exploring the crook of your neck, nuzzling and licking every inch until your soft whimpers filled the room. The sounds of your pleasure spurred them on, making them crave more. "Stu..." you murmured his name, and Billy, watching with slight hesitation, hushed you with a gentle touch to your bottom lip before leaning in to kiss you hungrily.

"What?" Stu's obvious teasing wasn't enough. Billy soon caught your lips in a kiss, one he didn't want to end. He wanted more, more than just your lips, resisting was difficult, especially after seeing you with another boy at the party. "More..." you whispered through the kiss, and Billy, catching only a fragment of your plea, paused midway, leaving you breathless and wanting. Your face was flushed with lust, your eyes begging for more. Before you could voice your protest, Billy scooped you into his arms, gripping your arse, his fingers digging into your flesh. Stu's chuckle echoed as he followed you both to the nearest bedroom.

"What?" Stu's obvious teasing wasn’t enough to satisfy him. Billy soon caught your lips in a kiss, one he didn’t want to end. He wanted more—more than just your lips. Resisting was difficult, especially after seeing you with another boy at the party. "More..." you whispered through the kiss. Billy, catching only a fragment of your plea, paused midway, leaving you breathless and wanting. Your face was flushed with lust, your eyes begging for more. Before you could voice your protest, Billy scooped you into his arms, gripping your rear with his fingers digging into your flesh. Stu's chuckle echoed as he followed you both to the nearest bedroom.

Billy’s fingers then traveled around your inner thighs, his thumb gently brushing on your clit. Which he couldn’t stop admire. “Look how tiny it is,” he pouts with a mockery, licking his bottom lip with the resisting urge not to devour you on the spot, which he does completely the contrary. Leaning in to eat you out, his fingers now gripping on your arse, as you moans his name out. His lips curving into a smirk the you felt his tongue gently brushing your clit. “I think she likes it, Billy…”

Stu's voice echoed in your mind as he settled beside you, his large fingers trailing down your body. He leaned in, nuzzling his head into the crook of your neck, his tongue tracing your skin, coaxing more moans from you. "Come on, doll. Don't be afraid... Tell me. Tell me how you like it."

"I like it..." you paused momentarily, caught up by another whimper, your back arching as Billy's tongue thrust inside your vagina. "I like it a lot!" you then exclaimed in a high-pitched voice just before Stu leaned in, cupped your chin, and kissed you hungrily.

Billy growled with a pout, “Randy will have to find someone else,” he said, his eyes filled with hunger. His thumb brushed your clit while his tongue devoured you completely. Your eyes watered, pleading for more.

"You belong to us, princess," Stu said, savoring the sight of your now-exposed breasts. He couldn't resist caressing them, pinching your nipples to hear your cute moans. Billy nodded in agreement, both of them murmuring,

"Our princess."

1K notes · View notes

urdreamydoodles · 30 days ago

Note

Could we get some headcannons on how X-Men characters would deal with an s/o who struggles with verbal communication? (I was thinking someone who just struggles with words but they could be deaf or mute as well)

Like instead of talking they use notes, or gestures, or even actual sign language to communicate. I was thinking it’s usually done when the reader is struggling to ask for something directly, or just convey what they’re thinking.

(I wasn’t sure if you’d want specific characters to think of or if you’d want free rein, but I’ll list a few of my favourites; Wolverine, Nightcrawler, Gambit, Storm, Morph, Magneto, Beast)

X-Men x Reader

You struggles with verbal communication

Characters: Logan Howlett, Remy LeBeau, Kurt Wagner, Scott Summers, Ororo Munroe, Morph, Erik Lehnsherr, Hank McCoy, Jean Grey, Rogue, Cable & Wade Wilson

Logan Howlett aka. Wolverine

- You’d been living at the mansion for a while, and while most people understood your struggle with verbal communication, Logan didn’t seem to get it at first. He wasn’t rude about it, but his gruff nature often led him to misinterpret your gestures. “What, you can’t just spit it out?” he’d ask, crossing his arms. You’d roll your eyes and scribble something on a notepad, sliding it over to him with a sharp look. He’d grumble but take it, slowly realizing how much effort you were putting into every interaction.

- Logan started paying closer attention over time. He noticed how your hands moved when you gestured, how your eyes flicked to certain objects when you wanted something. He wasn’t the type to ask outright, but he started observing quietly, learning your nonverbal cues like he was piecing together a puzzle. One day, you found him practicing basic ASL signs in the corner of the library. “Figured it might make things easier,” he said when you caught him, scratching the back of his neck.

- He surprised you by using those signs during casual conversations, albeit a bit clumsily at first. When you were struggling to ask for help one day, he simply signed, What do you need? It wasn’t perfect, but it was enough to bring tears to your eyes. “Don’t get all weepy on me, kid,” he grumbled, handing you a tissue. Still, the small smile tugging at his lips showed he was proud of himself.

- Logan’s protectiveness shone through in unexpected ways. If someone gave you a hard time about not speaking, he’d step in with a sharp glare that could silence a room. “Got a problem with how they communicate?” he’d growl, leaving no room for argument. You never asked him to defend you, but his unwavering support made you feel seen in ways you hadn’t before.

- Over time, the two of you grew closer. Logan’s patience, hidden beneath his rough exterior, was a balm to your insecurities. One evening, after a particularly long day, you handed him a note that read, Thank you for understanding me. He read it silently, then looked up at you with an intensity that made your heart race. “Ain’t nothin’ to thank me for,” he said softly. “You’re worth the effort.”

- The shift from friendship to romance was seamless. Logan wasn’t one for grand declarations, but his actions spoke volumes. He started carrying a small notepad for you, just in case you ran out of paper. And when he kissed you for the first time, it was tender, unhurried, as if he was trying to convey all the words he knew you struggled to say. “You don’t need words with me, darlin’,” he whispered against your lips. “I get you just fine.”

Remy LeBeau aka. Gambit

- Remy was instantly intrigued by your quiet nature, his curiosity piqued when he saw you using gestures and notes to communicate. “Mon cher, you always this mysterious?” he teased with a charming smirk. At first, you thought he was just flirting like he did with everyone, but his genuine interest shone through when he started trying to decode your gestures without making you uncomfortable.

- He quickly turned your communication struggles into a game, guessing what you were trying to say with an exaggerated flair. “You tryin’ to tell me you hungry? Or you just wanna see ol’ Remy look like a fool?” he’d say, making you laugh silently. His lighthearted approach made it easier for you to relax, even when you struggled to get your point across.

- One evening, when you left a sketchpad on the table with a note reading, I’m not sure how to ask for help, Remy’s teasing demeanor softened. “Cher,” he said quietly, taking a seat beside you, “you don’t gotta be afraid to ask me for nothin’, yeah? I’ll figure it out.” His reassurance, paired with his playful charm, made you feel safe in ways you hadn’t expected.

- Remy’s natural adaptability shone as he started learning little tricks to help you communicate. He began carrying a deck of blank cards, writing quick responses or questions for you to use. “See? Now we both got somethin’ to write on,” he’d say with a wink, making the process feel less daunting. He even started teaching you French phrases, encouraging you to write them down when words failed.

- The moment things shifted between you two was subtle but impactful. One night, you handed him a note that simply read, I like you. His red eyes glimmered with mischief as he read it, but his smile was surprisingly tender. “Well, cher,” he said, leaning in closer, “guess it’s only fair I tell you somethin’, too.” Before you could respond, he pressed a soft kiss to your hand, his actions speaking louder than words ever could.

- Dating Remy was like navigating a whirlwind of charm and affection. He made it clear that he adored you, using every opportunity to show you how much he cared. From spontaneous gestures to quiet moments where he’d sit beside you, letting your notes and signs speak volumes, Remy proved that your unique way of communicating only made him fall for you harder.

Kurt Wagner aka. Nightcrawler

- Kurt noticed your struggle with verbal communication almost immediately, his empathetic nature drawing him toward you. “You do not speak much, ja?” he asked one day, his tone gentle and curious. When you nodded, he didn’t press further, instead offering you a warm smile. “I understand. We all have our ways.”

- He quickly adapted to your communication style, finding joy in the way you used gestures and notes. “It is like learning a new language,” he said with excitement, his tail flicking behind him. “And I am always eager to learn.” His enthusiasm made it easier for you to open up, his patience and kindness making every interaction feel effortless.

- One day, you hesitated, struggling to express something important. Kurt noticed your frustration and gently placed a hand on yours. “Take your time,” he said softly, his golden eyes filled with understanding. When you finally handed him a note that read, I don’t know how to ask for help sometimes, he nodded solemnly. “You never have to worry about that with me,” he assured you. “I am here for you, always.”

- Kurt began incorporating small acts of reassurance into your daily life, like leaving you notes of encouragement or learning more ASL to communicate with you better. His joy when you taught him new signs was infectious. “Did I do it right?” he’d ask, his tail curling nervously as he signed a simple phrase. Your smile was all the confirmation he needed.

- The turning point came one evening when you handed him a note that read, I think I’m falling for you. Kurt’s eyes widened, and a faint blush colored his blue cheeks. “Mein Schatz,” he whispered, his voice full of emotion. “You have no idea how happy that makes me.” He pulled you into a gentle hug, his tail wrapping around you in a protective embrace.

- Being with Kurt was like stepping into a world of unwavering kindness and affection. He made it his mission to understand you, to support you in every way possible. “You do not need words to tell me how you feel,” he said one day, his fingers tracing your hand. “I can see it in your eyes. And I will always speak for the both of us, if you need.”

Scott Summers aka. Cyclops

- Scott was initially unsure of how to approach you. He respected your quiet nature but didn’t want to overstep. When he saw you using notes and gestures to communicate, he made a conscious effort to pay attention, his leadership instincts kicking in. “Let me know if there’s anything I can do to make things easier,” he said one day, his tone sincere.

- He started picking up on your cues quickly, his analytical mind piecing together patterns in your gestures. “You don’t have to rush,” he’d say whenever you hesitated, giving you the space to communicate at your own pace. His patience surprised you, his usually stoic demeanor softening in your presence.

- One day, after a training session, you handed Scott a note that read, I feel like I’m slowing everyone down. He frowned, shaking his head firmly. “That’s not true,” he said, his voice steady. “You’re part of this team, and we support each other. Don’t ever feel like you’re a burden.” His words were firm but full of warmth, his unwavering belief in you shining through.

- Scott began making small adjustments to accommodate your communication style, like keeping a whiteboard in the common areas or encouraging others to be more patient. “It’s not about how you communicate,” he told you one evening. “It’s about making sure you’re heard.” His support made you feel seen in ways you hadn’t before.

- The moment your relationship shifted was quiet but profound. You handed Scott a note that read, I care about you more than I can say. He read it silently, then looked up at you with a rare, soft smile. “I care about you too,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. The kiss that followed was tender, his hands cradling your face like you were something precious.

- Being with Scott meant being with someone who valued every part of you. He made sure you always felt included, never letting your struggles define you. “You don’t need to say a word,” he told you one day, his hand resting over yours. “I’ll always understand.” His quiet devotion was a constant reminder that love didn’t need words to thrive.

Ororo Munroe aka. Storm

- Ororo was naturally drawn to your quiet strength. She noticed your use of notes and gestures early on, her sharp intuition picking up on how you often hesitated to ask for help. She approached you with her characteristic grace, offering you a kind smile. “You speak in your own way,” she said softly. “And I’d like to listen, if you’ll let me.” Her calm understanding put you at ease immediately.

- Ororo quickly adapted to your style of communication. She never rushed you, instead waiting patiently for you to finish writing or signing. “Take your time,” she’d say whenever she noticed you struggling. Her respect for your pace made you feel valued, and you found yourself opening up more around her.

- One day, you handed her a note that read, I don’t know how to ask for what I need sometimes. Ororo’s serene expression softened, and she placed a gentle hand over yours. “You’ve already asked by sharing this with me,” she said. “Let me help you carry that weight.” Her words felt like a soothing balm, her unwavering support reassuring you in ways you hadn’t expected.

- Over time, Ororo began incorporating subtle gestures to show her understanding. She’d leave small notes of encouragement in places she knew you’d find them, or create gentle winds to carry your written messages to her during training sessions. Her actions spoke louder than words, and they reminded you daily of her care for you.

- The turning point came during a quiet evening in the garden. You handed Ororo a note that read, I think I’m falling for you. Her silver hair shimmered in the moonlight as she read your message, a radiant smile spreading across her face. “The feeling is mutual,” she said, her voice filled with warmth. She leaned in to kiss your forehead, her touch as gentle as a summer breeze.

- Being with Ororo was like standing in the eye of a storm—peaceful yet powerful. She made you feel seen and cherished, her understanding and empathy creating a safe space for your love to flourish. “Your voice is beautiful,” she told you one day, tracing your hand with hers. “Even if it’s not always spoken aloud, it still reaches me.”

Kevin Sydney aka. Morph

- Morph immediately took an interest in you, his playful nature making him curious about your quiet demeanor. “So, what’s the deal?” he asked one day, his tone lighthearted. When you handed him a note explaining that you struggled with verbal communication, his face lit up with excitement. “A challenge, huh? I love a good puzzle!”

- He made it his mission to understand your gestures and notes, often turning your interactions into a game. “Okay, charades it is!” he’d say, mimicking your motions in exaggerated ways that made you laugh. His humor took the pressure off, and you found yourself enjoying his company more than you expected.

- One day, you scribbled a note that read, I’m not good at asking for help. Morph read it aloud, then gave you a dramatic bow. “Lucky for you, I’m great at helping!” he said with a grin. Despite his joking tone, his sincerity was evident in the way he stuck around, always ready to lend a hand.

- Morph’s shape-shifting abilities came in handy when it came to communicating. He’d transform into a giant hand to mimic your gestures or into a cartoonish version of himself to make you laugh when you were feeling down. His creativity knew no bounds, and his efforts to connect with you were as entertaining as they were heartfelt.

- The moment things shifted between you was as spontaneous as Morph himself. You handed him a note that read, I think I like you. He gasped dramatically, clutching his chest like he’d been shot. “I knew it!” he said, pulling you into a spin. When he set you down, his usual joking demeanor softened, and he leaned in to kiss you gently. “I like you too,” he said with uncharacteristic tenderness.

- Being with Morph was an adventure in every sense of the word. He made sure you never felt isolated, using his humor and shape-shifting to keep things light and fun. “You don’t have to say a word,” he told you one day, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. “I can read you loud and clear, and I’m not going anywhere.”

Erik Lehnsherr aka. Magneto

- Erik was initially perplexed by your communication style, his analytical mind trying to make sense of your hesitations. When he realized you relied on notes and gestures, he was intrigued rather than dismissive. “An unconventional approach,” he mused. “But effective, nonetheless.” His curiosity made you nervous at first, but his lack of judgment slowly put you at ease.

- He began studying your gestures with the same intensity he applied to everything else, determined to understand you fully. “Communication is an art,” he said one day, watching as you wrote something down. “And you are a master of it, even without words.” His respect for your efforts made you feel seen in a way you hadn’t experienced before.

- One evening, you handed Erik a note that read, I feel like I’m a burden. He read it silently, his expression darkening. “You are not a burden,” he said firmly, his tone leaving no room for argument. “You are resourceful, intelligent, and resilient. Never diminish yourself in my presence again.” His words, though blunt, were filled with an undeniable care that warmed your heart.

- Erik’s efforts to support you were both subtle and grand. He’d manipulate small metal objects to write words in the air for you or create intricate metal sculptures to convey messages when you struggled. His actions showed a thoughtfulness that contrasted sharply with his usual stern demeanor.

- The turning point came during a quiet moment in his study. You slid him a note that read, I care about you more than I can say. Erik’s sharp eyes softened as he read your words. He set the note down carefully, then reached for your hand. “And I care for you,” he said, his voice low and steady. His kiss was deliberate, filled with the kind of intensity that only Erik could bring.

- Being with Erik was like standing beside a force of nature—powerful, unyielding, and deeply protective. He made sure you always felt valued, his actions speaking louder than any words ever could. “You don’t need to speak,” he told you one evening, his hand resting gently on yours. “Your presence is enough.”

Hank McCoy aka. Beast

- Hank was fascinated by your unique way of communicating, his scientific mind eager to understand the nuances of your gestures and notes. “A fascinating approach,” he said the first time he saw you write something down. “May I inquire further?” His genuine interest made you feel less self-conscious, and you found yourself opening up to him quickly.

- He started keeping a notebook nearby, jotting down your cues and gestures like he was studying a new language. “It’s remarkable how much you can convey without words,” he said one day, his admiration evident. His encouragement made you feel proud of your communication style, rather than ashamed of it.

- One afternoon, you left a note in his lab that read, I feel like I’m too much work for people. When Hank found it, his brow furrowed, and he immediately sought you out. “You are never too much work,” he said, his voice filled with conviction. “If anything, you’ve taught me to see the world in a new way, and I’m grateful for that.”

- Hank’s support manifested in practical ways. He developed small devices to make it easier for you to communicate, like a digital notepad that converted your writing into speech. “A little invention of mine,” he said with a sheepish smile. “I hope it’s helpful.” His thoughtfulness left you speechless, your gratitude clear in the way you hugged him tightly.

- The moment your relationship shifted was as gentle as Hank himself. You handed him a note that read, I think I’m falling for you. Hank read it carefully, his blue fur bristling slightly as he looked up at you with wide eyes. “The feeling is mutual,” he said, his voice soft. His kiss was tentative but warm, filled with the quiet intensity that defined him.

- Being with Hank was like being wrapped in a cocoon of warmth and understanding. He made sure you always felt supported, his kindness and intellect creating a safe space for your love to grow. “Your voice is unique,” he told you one day, his hand resting over yours. “And I consider it an honor to understand it.”

Jean Grey aka. Marvel Girl / Phoenix

- Jean noticed your quiet demeanor and alternative way of communicating long before you realized. She often caught glimpses of your emotions through her telepathy, though she never intruded. When you passed her notes or gestured instead of speaking, she responded with patience and understanding, letting you take the lead. “Take your time,” she’d say softly, her gentle smile a constant reassurance.

- Jean quickly adapted to your style, finding ways to bridge the gaps in communication. She subtly enhanced your gestures with her telepathy, sensing what you meant before you could even fully convey it. “It’s like we have our own secret language,” she teased one day, her green eyes sparkling. Her ability to meet you halfway made you feel less alone.

- One day, during a quiet moment in the mansion’s library, you hesitated before passing her a note. It read, Sometimes, I feel like I don’t belong here. Jean’s expression softened as she read it, and she reached out to take your hand. “You belong wherever you choose to be,” she said, her voice filled with conviction. “And right now, I’m glad you’re here with me.”

- Jean began leaving small notes for you as well, little affirmations that brightened your day. “You’re stronger than you think,” one read, tucked under your door. “You don’t have to say a word for me to know how amazing you are,” said another, left with your breakfast. These gestures reminded you that she was always thinking of you, even in the smallest ways.

- The shift in your relationship came during a walk through the garden. You handed her a note that read, I care about you, more than I probably should. Jean’s face lit up with a radiant smile, and she reached up to tuck a strand of your hair behind your ear. “Good,” she said softly. “Because I feel the same way.” Her kiss was gentle and warm, like sunlight breaking through the clouds.

- Being with Jean felt like basking in a calm, nurturing presence. She understood you deeply, both through her powers and her heart. “You don’t need words to express yourself,” she told you one day, her hand resting lightly on your cheek. “You’ve already said everything I need to hear.”

Anna Marie aka. Rogue

- Rogue was drawn to your quiet, introspective nature. She was no stranger to feeling out of place, and when she noticed your reliance on notes and gestures, she connected with you immediately. “Ah reckon we’re both a little unconventional,” she said one day, her Southern drawl soft. “But that’s what makes us unique.”

- She made it her mission to understand your style of communication, often using humor to lighten the mood. “What’s this one mean?” she’d joke, mimicking your gestures dramatically. Her teasing was never mean-spirited, and her playful attitude made it easier for you to relax around her.

- One afternoon, you left her a note that read, I’m afraid people will get tired of me. Rogue’s gloved hand tightened around the paper, her expression shifting to one of fierce determination. “Sugar, if anyone ever makes ya feel that way, they’re not worth your time,” she said firmly. “Ah’ll never get tired of ya, that’s for sure.”

- Rogue’s physical limitations due to her powers didn’t stop her from showing her care. She’d use small gestures like slipping notes into your jacket pocket or brushing her covered hand against yours to reassure you. Her creativity in expressing her feelings mirrored your own, making you feel understood on a deeper level.

- The turning point came during a late-night conversation in the mansion’s common room. You passed her a note that read, I think I’m falling for you. Rogue’s green eyes widened, and she bit her lip nervously. “Ah’ve been feelin’ the same way,” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. She leaned in, her gloved hand cupping your cheek as she kissed you carefully, mindful of her powers.

- Being with Rogue was like finding a kindred spirit. She understood the challenges of feeling different and made sure you never felt isolated. “You don’t need to say a thing, darlin’,” she told you one day, her smile soft and warm. “Ah know exactly how ya feel.”

Nathan Summers aka. Cable

- Cable’s gruff exterior initially made you hesitant to approach him, but he surprised you with his patience and attentiveness. He noticed your preference for notes and gestures right away, his keen tactical mind quickly adapting to your style. “Communication’s about understanding,” he said once. “Doesn’t matter how you do it, as long as it works.”

- Despite his hardened demeanor, Cable showed surprising softness when it came to you. He’d take your notes seriously, his cybernetic hand carefully holding the paper as he read. “Got it,” he’d say with a small nod, making you feel heard and respected.

- One day, you scribbled a note that read, I don’t know how to ask for help. Cable’s steel-blue eyes softened as he read it, and he placed a reassuring hand on your shoulder. “You don’t have to ask,” he said simply. “I’ll always have your back.” His words, though straightforward, carried a depth of sincerity that stayed with you.

- Cable’s actions spoke louder than words. He’d leave you supplies he thought you might need or subtly adjust his schedule to be around when he thought you might struggle. His protective nature made you feel safe, even without verbal reassurances.

- The moment your relationship shifted was quiet but profound. You handed him a note that read, I think I’m falling for you. Cable read it, his expression unreadable at first. Then, a rare smile crossed his face. “Guess I’ve been waiting for you to say that,” he said, pulling you into his arms. His kiss was firm yet gentle, a reflection of the man himself.

- Being with Cable was like having a steadfast anchor in a chaotic world. He didn’t need flowery words to show his care; his actions spoke volumes. “You’ve got your way of communicating,” he told you one day, his voice steady. “And I’ve got mine. Together, we make it work.”

Wade Wilson aka. Deadpool

- Wade was immediately fascinated by your unique communication style. “You’re like a mysterious, silent protagonist,” he quipped one day, leaning dramatically against a doorframe. “Do I get to be the comic relief in your story?” His lighthearted approach put you at ease, though his constant chatter sometimes overwhelmed you.

- He took your notes and gestures as a challenge, often exaggerating his responses to make you laugh. “Oh, I see what you mean!” he’d say, even when he clearly didn’t. His antics were equal parts endearing and infuriating, but his genuine effort to connect with you never wavered.

- One day, you passed Wade a note that read, Sometimes I feel like I’m too much. He stared at it for a moment, unusually quiet. Then he grinned and said, “Too much? Sweetheart, have you met me? You’re like the perfect yin to my yang!” His humor was disarming, but the sincerity in his eyes reassured you.

- Wade found creative ways to communicate with you, often using props, drawings, or even sock puppets to convey his thoughts. “See? Communication is an art form,” he said, holding up a poorly drawn cartoon of the two of you. His efforts were chaotic but heartfelt, showing you how much he cared.

- The shift in your relationship came during a quiet moment in his usually loud life. You handed him a note that read, I think I love you. Wade froze, uncharacteristically speechless. Then, with a dramatic flourish, he scooped you into his arms. “I knew it!” he shouted, spinning you around. His kiss was surprisingly tender, a rare glimpse of the man beneath the mask.

- Being with Wade was unpredictable but filled with joy. He made you feel understood in his own chaotic way, proving that love didn’t need to follow traditional rules. “You don’t need words,” he told you one day, his voice unusually soft. “I get you. And trust me, that’s saying something.”

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dinogoofymutated · 7 months ago

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Kissin and shit - Morph, Colossus, Gambit, Quicksilver. Heehee. here they be! I might or might not do more. It really depends bc I'm doing these as a writing exercise more than anything lol. TWS: Alcohol consumption mentioned, lots of overly enthusiastic smooching. Sexual references but no smut.

Morph

“I love you- I love you so, so much” Morph doesn't have a minute to reply to you as you kiss them senselessly. Every once in a while when you separate to breathe, they try to speak, only for you to interrupt them with more kisses each time. Morph hums in a confused but happy sort of way. You’ve basically thrown yourself onto them, kissing them again and again until they loose their balance and the two of you topple backwards. The moment you realise you’re falling your hands slide behind their head to cushion the fall, and after a wide-eyed moment of shock both of you are laughing.

You kiss all over their face, eyelids, cheeks, that little bump where their nose would be- and you don’t stop even as they start to fully fall victim to their laughter. God- did you love that sound! You catch their lips in a kiss again, and they hum in appreciation, panting when you finally pull away with a genuine smile on their face.

“Not sure what I did to deserve that, but can you tell me so I can do it again?”

Colossus

Piotr is struggling to keep up with your fiery, passionate kisses. He’s just a quiet as he always is, but you can feel his chest heaving against your own. His breath hitches as you drag your teeth across his bottom lip, before moving your kisses down his neck. You’re gentle with your kisses and nips- lavishing him with all of your love. He’s still silent, not a sound leaving his mouth, but you can feel his large hands squeeze around you just slightly.

“Piotr? Are you okay?” You ask when you finally pull away. He’s more red than you’ve ever seen him before, flushed from his ears and all the way down his neck. He doesn’t respond to you at first, his blown pupils looking back and fourth from your lips to your eyes a he fights the urge to pull you closer and kiss you until the next morning.

“Yes… Yes. More than okay.”

Gambit

“You’re so drunk.” You giggle, hands buried in Remy’s hair before he pulls you into another drunken kiss. They’re wet, messy, and sloppy kisses, but you can’t seem to get enough of them. You can taste the alcohol on his toungue as it slides against your own, feeling the slight sting of the taste.

“Pot callin’ the kettle black, Cher. You’re just as drunk as I am.” Remy chuckles, having pulled away for just a split second before you reel him back in again, your skin buzzing with delight from the feeling of his body against yours. His hands drift down to your thighs before he’s hiking one up against his hip.

So what if you were both a little drunk? To be honest, even if you were sober, you knew that the two of you would still have ended up in the same place you are now- smoochin.

Quicksilver

“We really need to get going.” You say, and yet you’re still kissing Pietro, holding onto his tie that he hadn’t even been able to put on before the two of you had gotten carried away. He snorts a laugh against your lips, picking you up and wrapping your legs around his waist in a split second, his lips hardly leaving yours the entire time.

“To what? Father’s stupid gala? We have plenty of time.” Pietro sighs, pressing his forehead against your own, pretty, white lashes resting against his cheekbones with his eyes still closed. “I’ll just zip us over when we’re done.” He says, walking you over to your desk where he sets you down- french kissing you the entire way there. You hardly have time to pull away and breathe to respond to him.

“Believe me, Speedy, if we don’t get going, we’re going to be here all night.”

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chloe-skywalker · 2 months ago

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Smarter - Ghostface / Billy & Stu

Billy Loomis x Fem!Reader

Stu Macher x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Murder mentioned?

Word count: 618

Summary: When they're talking about the murder in town Y/n makes a comment that gain’s two boy’s attention.

Authors Note: Not really a romantic mention but they're intrigued by her. First Ever Scream Imagine, it’s short but it’s a start!

Also

Happy Halloween!!!!!

I'm at Horror Nights !

Masterlist

Scream Masterlist

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

“What do you think Y/n?” Sidney asked looking to her friend that sat in front of her as they all ate lunch around the fountain.

“About what?” Y/n asked having zoned out of their conversation, she turned her attention up to Sidney.

“The murderer in town? Duh.” Tatum teased her friend playfully, rolling her eye’s.

Y/n furrowed her eyebrows and asked. “What about them?”

“Why do you think they're doing it?” Sidney was curious even if it brought up feel’s and memories she’d rather forget. Y/n alway’s thought of points and views none of them considered. She looked at it in a different, less gernetic way and it gave them a different perspective.

“Could be mindless killing.” Y/n shrugged thinking about it but even to her the kill’s being mindless killing’s just for the hell of it didn’t seem correct.

“Doubtful. It’s gotta have a motive, otherwise why call first?” Randy shook his head in disagreement as he took a sip of his soda.

“True. Maybe it’s to raise the stakes? Build adrenaline for a better chase.” Y/n tilted her head with a smirk at the corner’s of her lips. The killer called to get their victims into a false sense of security before making them completely terrified for their lives. They were playing with their prey.

“Before WHAM! Spill your guts.” Stu said loudly making Sidney and Tatum jump and Y/n laugh at his usual Stu antics, Billy just shook his head while Randy scoffed.

“It’s all so disgusting.” Sidney shook her head and her face contorted into a very disgusted look.

“Sick.” Tatum fake gagged.

“Could’ve been more creative.” Y/n shrugged her shoulders thinking the killer wasn’t very creative besides the phone call. Even though she had spoken lowly in a almost inaudible volume it caught two of the boy’s complete attention.

“Let’s get to class.” Sidney grabbed her bag, Y/n and Tatum followed suit with Randy on their heels as Billy and Stu stayed behind under the disguise of cleaning up.

“Hear that Billy? More creative.” Stu turned his head towards his best friend and partner in crime.

“Fuck off.” Billy shoved Stu’s shoulder to make him back up a bit. Billy’s attention was still on Y/n as he watched her retreating form. Without even knowing she had guessed correctly about ‘Ghostface’ techniques and it didn’t surprise Billy but it did make the wheels start turning in his mind. Especially when she made the comment about the kill’s not being very creative.

“You think she knows?” Stu questioned in a whisper so others wouldn’t hear their conversation.

“I think she suspect’s.” Billy had noticed Y/n’s eye’s flick to him and to Stu when she answered Tatum’s question. But whether it was from her having a feeling they were behind the murders or just because they were friends Billy didn’t know and it frankly bothered him. Y/n was smarter than the other’s and if anyone would figure it out Billy’s money was on Y/n.

“Does that change the plan?” Stu hoped it didn’t, he rather enjoyed Y/n’s company and he liked that he could make her laugh. She got his humor and she didn’t judge him or view him as just the clown. Stu didn’t want her to be added to the list of who needed to die.

“No. We knew she was smarter than the others. This doesn’t change anything.” Billy didn’t see this as an interference to their original plans. Y/n was not on the kill list but she would be more watched from now on. To make sure she didn’t spoil anything. They had other plans for her . . .

Taglists:

@padawancat97 @maryvibess @gruffle1

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coke-whore · 1 month ago

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Hollywood has no business making slashers this hot.

#I ‪‪❤︎‬ billy loomis

#scream #scream franchise #scream movies #2000s #90s #billy loomis #scream 1996 #stu macher #billy loomis x reader #billy loomis smut #sidney prescott #tatum riley #horror #slashers #slasher movies #girlblogging #girlhood

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three-unspoken-words · 6 months ago

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You’re pretty. You’re so pretty. It’s actually unbelievable how gorgeous you are. You’re pretty and funny and you’re everything I want. You’re the one I want to tell the good and bad news to, and the one I want to wake up with a text from. You’re the one I close my eyes thinking about and the one I look for in every room. You’re perfect, you’re perfect for me.

And maybe in another universe you’d think that too.

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cece693 · 1 month ago

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Ok but like imagine both Billy and Stu with a big tiddy goth! male! reader as their roommate lol

Reader looks intimidating but is actually really nice lol

Looks Can Be Deceiving (Stu and Billy x M! Reader)

Hi! So I'm not really that well informed on the big tiddy slang (English is not my first language) but after a quick google search I think I got the idea????? If not, then I apologize, but I hope you enjoy this :)

tags: oblivious reader, realistic billy and stu (I think), pre-relationship, open ended, might be a part 2 coming

Billy Loomis and Stu Macher weren’t exactly looking for a new friend, let alone a roommate. They’d been fine on their own, thriving in the chaos of their twisted little partnership. But when the college housing office placed them in a three-bedroom rental with some random guy, they couldn’t exactly say no. Rent was cheap, the landlord didn’t ask questions, and besides, how bad could it be?

The first time they saw you, though, they realized this arrangement was going to be…interesting.

You were standing in the living room when they arrived, setting up a bookshelf filled with horror novels and occult knickknacks. At first glance, you looked like something straight out of one of their favorite slasher films—towering, dressed in all black, tattoos peeking out from under your sleeves, with silver jewelry glinting against your pale skin. Your undercut only made you look more dangerous. Stu, never one to keep his thoughts to himself, leaned close to Billy and whispered, “Dude, do you think he’s in, like, a death cult or something?”

Billy didn’t answer, but his sharp eyes lingered on you as you turned to greet them. “Hey,” you said, your voice deep and smooth. “I made brownies. Want some?”

Stu’s jaw dropped. Billy just narrowed his eyes. And just like that, their expectations were shattered.

Over the next few days, it became clear that you weren’t at all what they expected. Despite your intimidating looks, you were ridiculously nice—almost unnervingly so. You always smiled when you saw them, greeted them with “Good morning” even if they ignored you, and even asked if they wanted anything from the grocery store before you went out. When you weren’t at class or work, you were usually in the kitchen, baking cookies or meal-prepping while blasting Bauhaus or The Cure from a tiny speaker.

Stu was instantly smitten. He started following you around like a puppy, throwing his long arms around your shoulders and declaring you his “best goth buddy.” He loved pushing your buttons just to see you scowl—like the time he “borrowed” one of your necklaces and pretended he lost it, only to give it back with an over-the-top apology. “Don’t worry,” he said, grinning up at you. “I’ll make it up to you. Wanna watch a movie? I’ll even let you pick.”

Billy, on the other hand, was harder to read. He spent a lot of time watching you from across the room, his dark eyes following your every move. You caught him staring more than once, but he always looked away before you could say anything. Unlike Stu, who was all loud jokes and obvious flirting, Billy was subtle. He’d make sarcastic comments about your goth aesthetic, only to quietly leave a new horror novel on your desk after you mentioned liking the author. He never admitted it, but you had a feeling he stayed up with you that one night you were stressed about your midterms just because he didn’t want you to be alone.

Stu and Billy’s affections, however, reached a dangerous new peak the day they stumbled into your room at the worst—or best, depending on how you looked at it—possible moment. It started innocently enough, or at least as innocently as things ever got with those two. Stu had been whining about needing help finding a charger, and Billy, clearly annoyed, suggested he ask you. Of course, "asking" wasn’t Stu’s style.

“C’mon, Big Guy!” Stu called as he shoved your door open, Billy trailing behind him. “You seen my—oh my god.”

You froze mid-motion, one arm reaching for the fresh shirt you were about to pull on, the other holding a towel you were using to dry your hair. Time seemed to stop as both of them stood there in the doorway, their eyes glued to your bare chest. No shirt. No barriers. Just you, all soft curves and broad muscle, your big tits on full display.

“Holy shit,” Stu breathed, his voice tinged with awe. His jaw practically hit the floor as he stared, unblinking. “Are you kidding me? Those things are, like, illegal.”

Billy, meanwhile, was much quieter, but no less affected. His dark eyes drank you in, his usual mask of control slipping for a moment as his gaze flicked downward, then back to your face. He swallowed hard, shifting his weight like he was trying to keep himself from stepping closer. His voice, when he finally spoke, was lower than usual. “We didn’t know you were changing.”

“No shit,” you snapped, snatching the shirt and pulling it over your head as quickly as possible. “You ever heard of knocking?”

Stu groaned, flopping dramatically against the doorframe. “Aw, don’t cover up! I was just starting to enjoy the view!”

Billy shot him a glare but didn’t argue. He was still staring at you, his tongue darting out to wet his lips. “You’re...built,” he said, his tone almost grudging, like the words were being dragged out of him against his will.

“Thanks, I guess?” you muttered, tugging the hem of your shirt down and crossing your arms over your chest. You could still feel their eyes on you, and it made your skin prickle with a mix of embarrassment and something you couldn’t quite name.

Stu leaned closer, his grin widening. “Dude, do you, like, know how big those are? Like, for real? You could probably drown someone with ‘em. You want to try it out?”

“Stu,” you growled, your patience wearing thin. “Get. Out.”

Billy finally stepped in, grabbing Stu by the back of his shirt and dragging him toward the door. “Come on, idiot. Let's leave him alone.”

“But Billy!” Stu whined, digging his heels in. “I wasn’t done appreciating the—”

The door slammed shut before he could finish, leaving you standing there in stunned silence. You could hear them bickering in the hallway, Stu’s voice loud and animated as always.

“I’m just saying, those are a work of art! It’s like the Mona Lisa, but, you know, better.” “You’re an idiot,” Billy muttered, but his voice was tight, like he was holding something back.

From the moment Billy and Stu got an eyeful of your assets, the dynamic in the house spiraled into utter chaos. You’d barely noticed it at first, chalking up their constant presence to boredom or a newfound interest in hanging out. But as weeks went on, their antics became harder to ignore. The snarky comments, the heated glares exchanged when you weren’t looking, the way they tripped over themselves trying to one-up each other—it was enough to make even the most oblivious person suspicious.

But not you.

Whether it was the gym incident, the pancake debacle, or the never-ending movie night arguments, you remained blissfully unaware of the brewing storm. You were too focused on your studies, your workouts, and making sure the house didn’t descend into complete disorder to notice the increasingly absurd lengths Billy and Stu were going to for your attention.

It all came to a head one particularly tense evening. You’d gone out to grab groceries, leaving Billy and Stu alone in the house. The moment the door closed behind you, the gloves came off.

“Just admit it,” Stu said, pacing the living room like a caged animal. “You’re obsessed with him.”

Billy leaned against the wall, arms crossed, his expression icy. “Says the guy who’s practically glued to his side 24/7.”

Stu spun around, pointing an accusing finger at him. “You’re just mad because he actually laughs at my jokes. When’s the last time he smiled at you?”

Billy’s jaw clenched. “Maybe he doesn’t need a fucking circus act to enjoy someone’s company.”

“Oh, right,” Stu sneered, throwing up his hands. “Because brooding in the corner like some wannabe vampire is so charming.”

“Better than acting like a hyperactive toddler,” Billy shot back, his voice dangerously low.

The argument escalated quickly, voices rising as they hurled insults back and forth. At one point, Stu picked up a couch pillow and launched it at Billy’s head, narrowly missing. Billy retaliated by shoving Stu into the wall, and for a moment, it seemed like things were about to get physical.

But then you walked in.

“Hey, guys—what the hell is going on!?” you asked, staring at the scene in front of you: Stu pinned against the wall, Billy’s hand fisted in his shirt, both of them glaring daggers at each other. They froze, turning to look at you like two kids caught with their hands in the cookie jar.

“Uh…nothing!” Stu said quickly, plastering on his trademark grin. “Just some light wrestling. Y’know, for fun.”

Billy let go of Stu and stepped back, brushing imaginary dust off his shirt. “Yeah. Just messing around.”

You raised an eyebrow but decided not to press the issue. “Okay...well, I got pizza. It'll be in the kitchen.”

As you disappeared into the other room, the tension between them simmered, but neither of them made another move. Not yet, anyway. It wasn't until later that night, after you'd gone to bed, that Billy and Stu returned to their conversation.

“This has to stop,” Billy hissed, his voice low and cold.

Stu crossed his arms, still bristling from their earlier fight. “You think I don’t know that? But what’s your solution, huh? Scare him off so neither of us gets him? Not happening, Billy Boy.”

Billy was silent for a long moment, his jaw working as he mulled over his options. He hated the idea of sharing you—hated it almost as much as he hated the thought of Stu winning. But the alternative was losing you completely, and that wasn’t something he was willing to risk. “Fine.”

Stu blinked, caught off guard. “Fine what?”

“We share him,” Billy ground out, his teeth clenched.

Stu stared at him, and then a slow grin spread across his face. “Well, well, well. Didn’t think you had it in you to play nice.”

“Don’t push it,” Billy warned, his voice sharp. “This doesn’t mean I like you. It just means I like him more.”

Stu snickered. “Whatever you say, buddy. But hey, at least now we’re on the same team, right?”

Billy didn’t answer, turning on his heel and stalking off. Stu watched him go, still grinning to himself.

From that day forward, things…changed.

You didn’t notice the difference at first. If anything, Billy and Stu seemed to get along better, their bickering replaced with an odd sort of pact. They started spending more time together, which you figured was just a natural byproduct of living in close quarters. What you didn’t realize was that they were coordinating their efforts.

Stu would distract you with jokes and games while Billy silently took note of what you liked, using that information to his advantage later. Billy would lure you into long, intense conversations about movies and books, giving Stu time to swoop in with grand gestures—like the time he surprised you with a ridiculously elaborate cake “just because.”

If you were confused by their sudden teamwork, you didn’t show it. You just kept being your usual, oblivious self, completely unaware of the quiet, unspoken truce between them—or the way they both watched you like wolves circling their prey.

It wasn’t perfect. Billy still bristled every time Stu got a little too handsy with you, and Stu couldn’t resist making snide comments whenever Billy monopolized your time. But for the most part, they made it work. Because at the end of the day, they both wanted the same thing.

You.

And if sharing was the only way to keep you close, then so be it.

For now.

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tonixe · 2 years ago

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"I wanna make you my final girl."

n.o.t.e.s - Skeet Ulrich is fine as hell.

w.a.r.n - p in the v, penetration, creampies, unprotected sex, dub-con to non con, wall sex, fingering.

p.a.i.r.i.n.g - Billy Loomis x fem!reader

w.c. - 1.3k

Music was blasting through the house, holding your red solo cup filled with some mysterious alcoholic drink.

It was another senior party, and it was of course a party hosted by Stu in his parent's huge house. You got forced to go to the party by Tatum and Stu. You were surprised when Sidney was at the party.

You saw as she walked into the kitchen you were curious about what she was doing; you were barely doing anything at the party than just sipping on your drink and looking around. Walking into the kitchen, to see Sidney emptying a bag of chips into a bowl. You placed your drink onto the counter.

"I didn't know your gonna come to the party, Sid" you put your hands into your skirt pockets, she was taken by surprised by your presence into the kitchen.

"I just didn't want to miss out on the fun, you know?" she responded quietly, as she started eating some of the chips, "Mind if I join in, I don't have anything else to do" you gave her a smile.

"Sure" she passed the bowl of chips, as you grab a handful of chips.

"So, where's Tatum"

"Probably with Stu, doing something important" she shrugged, You giggled when she said the last part, "You mean there probably somewhere fucking" you laughed.

You saw her growing a little grin on her lips, "I guess so" she gave you a little smile, but she was still down.

"What got ya down Sid?" you asked her.

She didn't responded with anything, "Is it with Billy?"

She didn't with your question once again, as she just looked away fro you, "You know it okay Sid, he in the wrong after all, beside he should know it, it wasn't your fault" you said, as you hugged her from behind, "Besides it's party have fun" you gave her a reassuring smile and pat on her back.

"I-i guess so" she said, wiping a tear away from her eyelash, she a laugh a bit.

"I gonna see where's Randy at" she said.

You gave her a head shake, as you watched as she left the kitchen, left with the bowl of chips. 'Oh well', as you dug into the chips. You were now alone, as you sighed out.

You were interrupted in your train of thought, from a group of teenager coming into the kitchen, not trying to bother yourself you just left the chips and walked dusted your hands off.

You walked through the hallways of the house, trying to find the entertain of fun in the party, before getting bumped into by a very drunk Billy.

"B-billy" you stuttered out, you were disgusted by the strong smell of alcohol coming from him. "How much were you drinking tonight?"

"Enough to make me think about you~" he cooed, teasing point at your face, you saw the evident empty flask in his hands.

"God, you need to go home..now," you whispered, holding his shoulders.

"I-i just wanna go home with you, darling." he stuttered out as he caressed your cheek, "You're drunk"

"I'm pretty sober"

"Your going home come on" you tugged at his hand, before getting slammed on a wall, immediately smelling the alcohol and his cologne radaring from him.

"You know, Y/N.." he huffed, looking straight at your face, "You're so pretty, I mean pretty than Sidney in a way" He caressed your face, and you felt his hand sneaking up your skirt.

You grabbed his hand, "Stop, you have a fucking girlfriend, Billy," you hissed at him angrily; he slammed you into the wall forcefully, grabbing your chin, "You know you want it to, Y/N, come on." He forcefully peeled off your panties.

You felt his thick fingers inside of your cunt, your legs wobbling from the impact, as he thrust his finger inside you. "Your wet," he whispered into your ear, and a smuggled smile appeared on his face. You turned your head away from him. His finger fucked you, as you covered your mouth hiding your moans.

"I wanna hear you scream," he whispered into your ear as he took your hand away from your mouth, forcing his tongue into your mouth to kiss. Withdrawing from your lips, being connected by a string of saliva. You whimpered out as his fingers were still trusted inside you before getting withdrawn.

His fingers coated with your slick, as he sucked the liquid from his fingers in front of you before shoving into a hot makeout; it was wrong to enjoy this abuse, especially with your friend's boyfriend.

Your heavy breathing was loud as you tried to calm yourself down before you felt yourself getting lifted off the ground onto Billy's shoulder.

"What the hell, put me down, Billy" you yelled before you were silenced by a slap on the ass as you jolted from the slap.

You buried your face onto the pillow, grabbing it, You could of ask him to stop, but you allowed the thought of him being under the influence; you were a fucking fake, fucking your friend's own boyfriend when there going through something, you felt horrible, but you didn't want it to stop.

You were interrupted in your train of thought before getting split out by his cock, hissing from the pain. His hips collided with your ass as he thrust into you, his hips jackhammering into you.

Your moans ranged out as his cock abused your cunt, as he grabbed the back of your hair, pulling you into his chest, thrusting into you deeper, "Fuck" he groaned out into your ear, "God, your tight," he squeezes her clothed chest, before he took off your shirt, ripped your bra off.

Before he started playing with your nipples, your languid moans made Billy harder by the second. As Billy pulled you into a messy, hot kiss while he plunged himself deeper inside you, You felt yourself feeling your orgasm. His cock massaging your inner walls, "Goddamn, your fucking tight," he groaned into your ear as you clamped down on him.

He removed his arms from your body, and you fell onto the bed, your breath labored, as sweat covered your body.

Before he flipped you, hovering over your body, before he plunged inside you again, your moans were loud, his thrust jolting, as your boobs bounced from the rhythm of his hips.

His body pressed onto your own as you held him, your legs placed on his hips, his thrust getting sloppy, both of your bodies covered with sweat, your nail scratching his back, as your nails stain red. The sounds of the thrust being heard around the room, "B-billy, Im close," you moaned out, "I'm gonna fucking cum inside you" You felt a sense of pleasure washing down on you, moaning his name before clamping down onto his cock, he thrust you a few times into you before spilling himself into you, you felt him softening inside of you, as he groaned into your ear.

You and Billy of your panting were loud before he pulled out of you, as his cum dripped out of you. Billy putting back his clothing back on, zipping up his jeans.

"Where you going." you whimpered out, reaching for him, "Finishing some business," he said before kissing you on the lips, "I'll be back soon, precious." before he caressed his cheek.

"So you really did that, huh," Stu asked as Stu lit his blunt, puffing out the smoke, before turning his head to Billy.

"It was easy to get her to be submissive." Before he took a blow from his blunt.

"You make her sound more like a dream; maybe if get to enjoy her too," he said before he took a drag from his blunt; he felt a hard glare from Billy after he said that.

"After your done fucking with her."

"If you touch her, I'll fucking kill you."

"Billy, you never share~" Stu playful whined

"Anyways, your ready for the Woodsboro massacre?" Stu asked gleefully.

"Ready to finish up the daughter of the whore" Billy muttered before taking a long drag from his blunt.

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ha1taniwh0re · 2 years ago

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Welcome…. you are on Scream masterlist

For now im writing only for characters from Scream(1996) and ScreamVI(2023)

fem!reader-💜, GN!reader-🤍

Reader

-Where are you from, (name)??-

Billy Loomis

-This is our little secret-💜

-startled reader-💜

Stu Matcher

-startled reader-💜

Mindy

-busy reader-🤍

#scream x reader #scream 1996 #scream vi #scream #billy loomis x reader #billy loomis #stu matcher x you #stu matcher x reader #stu matcher #sidney prescott #sidney x reader #sidney prescott x reader #tatum x reader #chad meeks martin x reader #tara x reader

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angelsuecult · 3 months ago

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welcome home | s. crosby

summary: sidney arrives home at the crack of dawn wanting nothing more than to crawl into bed with you.

warnings: suggestive dialogue

word count: 1.3k

a/n: i thought it was going to be shorter but compared to the previous one id say it is! i’m really liking writing for you guys! got some suggestions, one will be uploaded this saturday, don’t be afraid to reach out! i’m having lots of fun writing for you guys and would love to hear any suggestions or feedback!

You awake to the faint creak of the bed and the soft whisper of someone settling beside you. The room was still bathed in the soft blue-grey of the early morning, just before the sun fully rose. As you blinked your eyes open, your heart skipped a beat at the sight of Sidney sitting on the edge of the bed, his profile softened by the light filtering through the curtains. His face was tired, but content, and just seeing him there after what felt like forever was a relief.

“Hey baby,” he whispered, his voice a soothing balm after two weeks apart. His lips curved into a gentle smile as he leaned in to press a tender kiss to your forehead, longing just long enough to make you feel like he never wanted to leave again. The kiss wasn’t hurried or filled with the urgency of desire, but with affection—like he was savoring the feel of being near you again.

“Hi Sid,” you whispered back, your voice a little groggy with sleep, reaching out to pull down toward you. He easily followed your lead, his body sinking into the mattress beside you as he laid his head on your chest. His exhaustion was clear in the way his muscles seemed to melt against you, his body getting perfectly alongside yours like it always had. You let your hand drift to his hair, running your fingers through the strands, feeling the tension in him begin to ease.

“What time did your plane touch down?” you murmured, almost disbelieving. It had been two long weeks without him—weeks that felt like months, the house always a little too quiet, the bed a little too cold.

He sighed, the sound heavy with relief. “About 7:00 this morning,” he said softly. His breath warmed against your skin as he settled more comfortably against you.

You winced, feeling a pang of guilt. “Oh, I’m sorry I wasn’t there to pick you up.”

Sid shifted slightly, raising his head to meet your eyes, and shook his head with a tired but tender smile. “It’s fine. I actually enjoyed a bit of quiet before coming home. I was just really looking forward to seeing you.”

You could see the fatigue etched into every line of his face—the way his eyelids were heavy and how his usually sharp gaze was softened with weariness. “I should probably shower before I get too comfortable,” he muttered, though he made no effort to move, his body clearly too tired to act on the thought.

“No,” you said firmly, your hand still stroking his hair. “You’ve been on the road forever. Just take your dirty clothes off and go to sleep. You shouldn’t have to worry about anything else right now.”

He let out a quiet chuckle, the sound low and raspy, raising an eyebrow and his lips curling into a teasing smile. “Oh yeah? You want me to strip and sleep, eh? Sounds like you’re trying to get me into bed faster, Y/N.”

You laughed softly, rolling your eyes, “You’re ridiculous, it’s not like that. I just want you to be comfortable. You’ve had a long trip, and that last thing you need is to stand in a shower half-asleep.”

He gave a mock sigh, the mischief still dancing in his eyes. “Alright, alright, if you say so,” he said, though the grin on his face told you he wasn’t done teasing yet. “You sure you’re not just trying to keep me all to yourself?”

You smiled up at him, your fingers brushing against his cheek. “Maybe a little. But seriously, just come to bed. We can worry about everything else later.”

With a lighthearted sigh, he sat up groaning as he reached for his belts, his movements sluggish with exhaustion. As he unbuckled it, and tugged at his pants, you couldn't help but reach out, your fingers brushing lightly against his waist,feeling the warmth of his skin beneath the fabric.

The simple touch made him shiver slightly, his eyes flicking to yours. “Careful now,” he murmured, his voice dropping an octave as he paused, his gaze locked onto yours. “You keep that up, and I might forget about sleep entirely.”

You laughed softly, your hands helping him ease out of his pants. “I’m just helping. The sooner you’re out of those clothes, the sooner we can both settle in.”

He gave a soft sigh as his pants hit the floor, then he turned his attention to the buttons of his shirt. His fingers fumbled “Let me help.” you said, sitting up to gently brush his hands aside. “Sidney Crosby; captain of a hockey team, yet can’t seem to undress himself.” you said softly, as you began to unfasten the buttons one by one.

He gave you a sheepish grin, resting one of his hands on your thigh as you worked on the buttons. “What can I say? I do my best work on the ice,” he teased, his thumb gently rubbing the fabric of your pajamas as he watched you with a lazy smile.

You shook your head, fingers making quick work of the buttons, each one revealing a little more of his skin. The warmth radiated from him, and you couldn't help but feel a quiet satisfaction as you peeled the shirt off his shoulders, sliding it down his arms. He let out a quiet, appreciative hum as the shirt fell to the floor, and without a second thought, you guided him back beneath the blankets.

“You really know how to make a guy feel at home,” he murmured.

You pulled back, “Maybe because you are, no?”

He immediately relaxed, his body sinking into the mattress as he pulled you close,your bodies fitting together like puzzle pieces. The familiar scent of him—something warm and comforting, a mix of his skin and the faint trace of his cologne—made your chest tighten with a feeling that was almost too much to describe.

“Feels good to be home,” he whispered, his voice thick with fatigue but so full of warmth. His arms wrapped around you, pulling you tighter against him, and you could feel the slow, steady, rhythm of his heartbeat beneath your hand.

“I missed you, you know,” you whispered, your fingers tracing lazy patterns over his chest.

“He pressed a kiss to the top of your head, his lips lingering there as if he wanted to hold onto the moment just a little longer. “I missed you too,” he murmured, his voice soft.

You lay there in the quiet of the morning, the soft light of dawn filling the room as you enjoyed the closeness. You moved your head to his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart, while his fingers traced gentle circles on your back.

As the sun rose, casting a warm glow over the room, you stayed wrapped in each other’s arms. The gentle rays filtered through the curtains, painting the room in soft hues. There were no urgent needs or obligations, just the pure joy of being together, finding comfort in the shared warmth and love.

After a few moments of peaceful silence, Sidney’s stomach rumbled softly, breaking the silence. You both laughed softly, “Sounds like someone’s ready for breakfast, hm?” you tease, nudging him gently.

He groaned, “I might be. Breakfast, lunch, dinner. You name it.”

“Ambitious, are we?” you said grinning up at him. “We can start with breakfast and see how far we get.”

He nods, pulling you closer. “Sounds like a plan. But just so you know, I might be expecting a full-course meal with dessert later. Preferably a dessert on all fours?” He suggests tugging at the waistband of your pajama pants.

You snort, giving him a playful swat on the arm, “I should have let you undress yourself.”

#sidney crosby #pittsburgh penguins #sidney crosby x reader #sidney crosby imagine #sidney crosby fic #nhl imagine #nhl players #nhl #nhl hockey #nhl fic #nhl fanfiction #angelsuecultwrites

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shari-berri · 2 years ago

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I’m convinced Wes told Matthew Lillard to just give in to his intrusive thoughts for the role of Stu Macher

#skeet ulrich #stu macher #scream 1996 #scream #matthew lillard #billy loomis #it’s a scream baby #ghostface #sidney prescott #neve campbell #meme #billy loomis x reader #stu macher x reader #wes craven

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lilbrainbigheartz · 13 days ago

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Headcanons of Stu as your boyfriend💗

warning: slight mention of nsfw

-he is so boyfriend material (crying ,sobbing,throwing up)

-be prepared of him wanting your attention 24/7

I imagine him getting out of class and being like: "YAY Y/N time!!"

-Stu is not shy about affection in public. He’ll kiss you on the cheek in the middle of the cafeteria or yell, “That’s my baby!” if someone mentions your name.

-since his love language is physical touch, he won‘t miss out a chance to hug, cuddle and kiss you.

Lots of neck kisses (because he somehow has a thing for necks… *flashback of him creeping behind Randy and Billy eyeing their necks💀*)

He will pull you on his lap. You: "But there‘s enough space for two". Stu:"pffft- space? Who needs that?"

-Stu loves surprising you with little acts of affection, like sneaking up behind you to hug you or spinning you around unexpectedly. “Gotcha! You can’t escape my love, babe.”

-you won‘t be able to escape him. Don‘t even try. He will do anything for you to give him atleast a hug everyday. "C‘mon just give me- just give me a hug! Babe!! Just give me a hug! Please!" While he suffocates you in his arms💀

-he‘s your biggest cheerleader. Got an answer right in class? Bro claps his hands and cheering for you as if you won an Oscar. "Yep! What my bae said! Everyone take notes!"

-everytime you talk that guy scans your face intently instead of really listening to you (also one of his flaws sometimes) He‘ll just either interrupt you with a kiss or brush your hair out of your face. “You’re so cute, it’s not even fair. How am I supposed to focus when you’re this adorable?”Your reaction depends on what you were telling him.

If you just told him about new date idea that could be fun for the two of you, you probably just laugh it off and demand him to listen now to you.

But if you told him about something you are upset about, he‘ll grimace a bit knowing he messed up-

Stu:"oh- shii, sorry babe! I swear I will listen now- give me a second chance please-"

-I think he will have his sassy moments sometimes. Probably when you guys have some rare small argument You:"Do you ever just stop being too much for just a second?" Stu:"No Y/N, if I did our relationship would be boring. You‘re welcome"

Just an honorable mention lololol-

-I don‘t think he is that jealous once you two are together. But if he is, he just might say something like: "Oh yeah I know! My babe is that fine". And just stick out his fucking long tongue 😝

-he won‘t shut up about you. Seriously. For his friendgroup (especially Billy) he is ten times worse now. You have been absent in school or couldn‘t come to their hang out because you had something else to do? Sidney:"Y/N told me she was busy with-". Stu:"OH WHAT?! OH MY GOD! This can‘t be happening!" Tatum: "Thanks Sid, now he‘ll whine for the next hour."

-another honorable mention!

When it‘s halloween you two match your costumes <3 ABDVKSDJDJD- I also headcanon him loving xmas! So imagine him holding up a mistletoe for a kiss everytime he gets the chance to do so! (Maybe or maybe not I will write xmas time headcanons for Stu ?😙)

-since it‘s lonely at his place because of his parents rarely being there (and where ever the f his supposed sister Leslie is) he will randomly stop at your home and crawl into your room through the window at random times like 3 AM. Just be ready for your lovely boyfriend to jump into your bed on top of you to cuddle you out

-he will also tease you with random nicknames. "Hey, Snugglemuffin!” “Stu, where did you even come up with that?” "Talent."

-Stu is Stu. He also can be inappropiate. He would just go behind you and give you a little scare by grabbing your tits (if female) out of nowhere and just stick his tongue and disappear quickly back to his friendgroup again, leaving you confused. If male or female, he will also give you the most shameless and loudest ass slap making you physically startle 😭

-or he‘ll make an inappropiate comment in front of everyone. Since it happened so often, you all were able to tell when he was ready to drop one. Stu:"wow hon, your new shirt looks so awesome but better on my flo-" Tatum and Sidney groan, Randy stops him with a "No." And Billy would literally get up and leave while saying "nope not doing that today.“

Or:

*eyes you like some 5 stars dinner meal and then just grins* "You‘re giving me quite the hard time to focus-". You choose if you like his comments or not (well I do- IT WAS JUST A DEMON SRY)

So yeah as I said Stu is just so boyfriend! <3

#stu macher headcanon #stu macher #scream 1996 #scream movie #billy loomis #stu macher x reader #sidney prescott #tatum riley #x yn #x reader #gn reader #randy meeks #horror #stu macher x you #stu macher fluff

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idle-teen28 · 8 months ago

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İm so tired of hearing "billy did it, the first killer was billy, they're trying to recreate Billy's murders" in the movies, like, why is everyone in the series is acting like as if billy did everything alone?, like i get it, billy was the mastermind behind this, but stu also had a part in this, a big part too, the killings happened in his house, hell, even the official movie posters makes it looks like as if billy did this all alone

it's always "billy loomis" but never "billy and stu", like, might fly to California and commit "the whatever-th woodsboro murders" again just for this

İf y'all see a brunette killer girl in the news, that might be me! (no guys don't take this srsly i wouldn't do it, i don't wanna go to jail)

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rowdyluv · 4 months ago

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Sleepless in Pittsburgh

Summary: Sidney and Y/n are supposed to be taking turns getting up at night to take care of their infant.

Warnings: none?

Notes: request @thedevilrisen

In the quiet sanctuary of their suburban home, Sidney and Y/n danced a nightly ritual that was as tender as it was tiring. Their baby girl, a delightful bundle of eight months, had just been fed and was now nestled in Sidney's strong arms, her eyes drooping as she fought the call of sleep. The nursery, a soft palette of pastels, hummed with the gentle white noise machine designed to help soothe her, a modern lullaby that filled the room. Y/n, her hair tied back in a loose bun, moved quietly, finishing up the bedtime routine. She glanced over at Sidney, who wore a look of quiet determination, his soft gaze fixed on their daughter's sleepy face. His eyes filled with raw pure joy and love. Emotions that strong had only ever been shared with her before.

With a soft sigh, the baby's eyes finally closed, and Sidney carefully placed her in the crib. The couple exchanged a knowing look, one that spoke of shared responsibilities and silent promises. They had agreed to take turns getting up in the night to ensure that neither was overwhelmed by the constant wake-up calls. It was a plan that had worked well, or so Sidney thought. Y/n had been shouldering more of the childcare lately, and it was etched on her face, in the dark circles beneath her eyes and the way she moved with a slightly slower grace than usual. He felt a twinge of guilt, but also a fierce protectiveness. He knew she was tired, but she never complained, not even when he could see her stifling yawns. She would never complain about being tired because of a little extra responsibility on her because Sidney was a little more busy with work. She knew way before the thought of having a child ever entered her mind that this would be a different rodeo.

Sidney held out his hand to Y/n, and she took it gratefully, her own feeling small and cold. They padded out of the nursery together, the floorboards creaking slightly under their weight. As they entered their bedroom, the room was bathed in the soft glow of the moon, which streamed through the curtains and painted intricate patterns on the wooden floor. The room was a sanctuary of their own, filled with the faint scent of the vanilla candles Y/n had lit earlier to create a calming atmosphere. Their bed looked inviting, the crumpled sheets whispering of a much-needed rest.

Sidney could see the exhaustion etched in every line of Y/n's face as she climbed into bed. Him being gone for road games and simply being so worn out from home games, she was getting up more often than not. Plus she was here all day with the little one and it was taking a toll on her. He had noticed it in the way she had been quieter than usual, and how she sometimes forgot simple things like where she had put the baby's pacifier, and it would still be in her hand. As he sat down next to her, his thoughts swirling with love and concern, he made a silent vow to do more. He didn't want her to bear this burden alone. He couldn’t become that type of dad.

Gently, he kissed the top of her head, his lips lingering for a brief moment, a silent promise of support. She leaned into the touch, closing her eyes and letting out a sigh that seemed to carry the weight of the world. They both knew the baby could stir at any moment, but for now, they had a few precious minutes to themselves. Sidney pulled the covers up to their chins and wrapped an arm around her, feeling her body melt into his warmth. The room was silent except for the steady rhythm of their breathing, which synced up almost immediately.

They lay there, the moonlight playing across their faces, the lines of fatigue standing out in stark relief. Sidney studied Y/n's features, the way her eyelashes fanned out on her cheeks, the soft curve of her nose, the gentle slope of her neck. She was beautiful, even exhausted. He felt a pang of regret for the moments he had missed, the nights he had been away for his games, unable to share in the middle-of-the-night moments that had bonded them so deeply.

The sudden wail of their baby girl pierced the quiet, jolting them both awake. Sidney sat up, his heart racing. Y/n's eyes snapped open, and she started to push herself up, but he placed a firm, reassuring hand on her shoulder. "I've got this one," he whispered, his voice low and steady. She looked at him, a mix of surprise and relief in her eyes, and nodded, collapsing back onto the pillow. Asleep almost instantaneously.

Sidney slid out of bed, his bare feet landing softly on the cool floor. He knew the drill by heart now; tiptoe to the nursery, check on her, soothe her, lay her back down, and maybe get a little more sleep before the next round. The crib's mobile twirled gently in the dim light, casting shadows on the walls. He picked her up, her small body fitting perfectly into the crook of his arm, and cradled her close to his chest. Her cries grew quieter, and she nestled her head into the nook of his shoulder, seeking comfort. He rocked her gently, feeling the weight of her trust in his arms, and he was filled with a fierce love that seemed to surpass any tiredness he felt.

As he sat in the rocking chair, he couldn't help but think of the times he'd seen Y/n do this. The way she'd coo and whisper sweet nothings, the gentle strokes of her hand on their daughter's back, the way she'd rock back and forth with such a natural rhythm. It was moments like these that made him realize just how much she did for their little family. And it was moments like these that he realized he needed to do more to share the load of work.

After soothing their baby girl back to sleep, he gently placed her back into the crib, the soft cradle of the mattress welcoming her tiny form. As he backed away, her eyes fluttered for a moment, as if she was searching for the source of the movement. He held his breath, willing her to stay asleep. When she finally settled again, he let out a sigh of relief and turned to leave.

Sidney tiptoed back to his and Y/n’s shared bedroom, his steps measured so as not to disturb the peaceful silence. He slid into bed next to her, feeling the warmth of her body as she stirred slightly in her sleep. He watched her for a moment, her chest rising and falling evenly, and allowed himself a small smile.

The digital clock next to the bed read 4:00 AM. He knew that this was likely not the last time the baby would wake up tonight. It was a cycle that had become all too familiar. But this time, something was different. He couldn’t shake the feeling that Y/n needed the rest more. He’d been up three times now, her twice. He didn’t want her up again if possible.

So, he made a decision.

He would stay in the nursery for the rest of the night.

Sidney carefully picked up the baby again and made his way to the rocking chair, the old oak creaking gently as he sat down. The chair had been a gift from Y/n's mother, a relic from her own parenting days, and it held a certain charm that filled Sidney with warmth. He tucked a blanket around both of them, the soft fabric brushing against his skin, and began to rock. The chair's steady motion was almost hypnotic, and he found himself slipping into a light doze, his eyes flickering open every few moments to check on their daughter.

The baby's breathing grew even, her tiny body relaxing in his embrace. He felt her heartbeat against his chest, a gentle reassurance that she was safe and loved. The room was bathed in the glow of the nightlight, casting a soft blue hue across the nursery. He studied her features, so much like Y/n's, and felt a swell of pride that washed away his weariness. He whispered a promise to her, one that only the two of them would ever know, to be the best father he could be for her.

"I'll always be here for you, little one," he murmured, his voice barely audible. "I'll protect you, love you, and support you, no matter what life throws our way." He kissed her forehead, feeling the warmth of her skin and breathing in her sweet baby scent. It was a promise that seemed to echo in the stillness of the room, a vow that filled him with purpose and resolve.

Her tiny hand curled around his finger, and he marveled at the way she held on so tightly. It was as if she understood the gravity of his words, as if she was already counting on him to be her rock. He stroked her cheek with his thumb, feeling the velvety softness of her skin. "You're going to have the best life, I promise," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "You'll never have to doubt how much you're loved by your momma, by me, or my teammates. The new ones that find their way onto the team will love you.”

Y/n's voice, soft and warm, floated into the nursery from the doorway. "You'll just have to figure out who loves you most," she said with a tired smile, her eyes still heavy with sleep. Sidney looked up to see her leaning against the doorframe, her silhouette framed by the dim hallway light. “Did you forget that this was on?” She shook the baby monitor. “Your chatter was interesting to wake up to and not find you in the bed.” She giggled.

"I guess I did forget," he laughed, the sound low and rich, bouncing off the walls of the quiet room. It was a rare moment of levity in the tapestry of their sleepless nights. The baby stirred slightly at the sound but didn't wake, her grip on Sidney's finger tightening. Y/n's smile grew, the shadows playing across her features as she padded closer.

"Thank you," she murmured, her voice a gentle caress in the night. "I know you're tired too, but you're so good at this." She leaned down to kiss him, her hand brushing against his cheek. He could feel the heavy truth of her gratitude, and it was more invigorating than any cup of coffee could ever be. “You have your hockey career that is so demanding, that supports us, and here you are still trying to take on the bulk when you can.” She kissed him once more.

Sidney beamed with happiness, his heart swelling with love for both his wife and their daughter. "This is nothing," he said, his voice earnest. "You're the real MVP here, Y/n. I just want to make sure you get some rest." He grinned at her, his eyes shining with affection. "I think I'll stay right here with my baby girl for the rest of the night."

Y/n returned his smile, her eyes sparkling with unshed tears. She knew Sidney was tired, too, but she couldn't deny the comfort his offer brought her. "Are you sure?" she asked, her voice a mere whisper. "You have practice tomorrow."

A simple nod and a genuine smile was all Sidney needed to give her and she was off to bed. Sidney however, was in the rocking chair until 8am holding his little girl happily and lovingly.

#cay writes #sidney crosby #sidney crosby x reader #sidney crosby x y/n #sidney crosby x you #nhl imagine #nhl fic #pittsburgh penguins #Pittsburgh Penguins fic #hockey fic #hockey fics #nhl #dad!sidney

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