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sycamorelibrary754 · 1 month ago

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Guardian Angel

Chapter 12: They are Memories and Moments

Summary: The team moves forward with plans to infiltrate Onyx Petroleum, but you and Wanda are still reeling from your confession the night before.

Warnings: Angst memories?

Word Count: 3.7k

A/N: I’ve missed writing.

Guardian Angel Masterlist

The aroma of freshly brewed coffee roused you from your restless sleep on Wanda's couch. You were wrapped in a blanket, struggling to shake off the previous night's memories.

"Morning,” a familiar voice said.

Lifting your head from the pillow, you found Bucky perched at the kitchen island.

"What are you doing here?" Your voice was still groggy from sleep.

"I just wanted to make sure you're alright," he said.

You exhaled slowly. "I’m guessing you know what happened last night?"

Your back cracked as you rose from the couch to join Bucky, where he handed you a steaming cup of coffee.

Bucky nodded. "Wanda filled us in after we dropped off Billy and Tommy."

"Is she—" you began, wondering if Wanda was still around.

"She already left to take the boys to school," he replied.

Taking a sip of the hot, comforting beverage, you let out a deep sigh.

"Oh, Buck." Leaning your head on the cold, smooth surface of the granite countertop. "I thought I was doing the right thing."

I know," he said, soothingly rubbing your back with his metal hand.

“I don't know what to do,” you muttered.

“Maria is working on some back channels, and Tony is bringing in reinforcements who may be able to give us some more insights into your parents’ plans,” Bucky reassured you. “We’ll figure this out.”

A few minutes later, you heard the front door swing open and close with a gentle click, announcing Wanda's arrival home.

“I’ll let you two talk. Hang in there, Y/N.” Bucky said before slipping out of the back door.

Wanda walked into the kitchen, a solemn expression etched on her face. Her steps faltered at the sight of you sitting at the counter.

"Hey," you said, gazing into your coffee cup.

"Hey," Wanda replied, setting down her keys and purse.

The awkward silence that followed seemed to hang in the air forever.

"About last night—" you started.

"I’m not ready to talk about this, Y/N," she interrupted, a pained expression still lingering in her eyes as she walked past you.

“I think we need to,” you pushed, trailing after her into the bedroom.

Wanda slammed the door shut with a wave of chaos magic. "There is nothing you can say right now to fix this," you heard her say from behind the door.

"Please try to understand," you pleaded as you opened the door. "I thought I was doing what was best."

Wanda spun around, her fiery red hair almost slapping you in the face. "We've always been honest with each other. Can you imagine how it feels to discover you've been keeping this from me?"

"Can you imagine the torment of carrying this guilt inside me?" you shot back, your voice unintentionally rising. "To know that my parents are causing pain to the person I love more than anyone else!"

The four-letter word tumbled out of your mouth before you realized what you had said. Wanda shook her head, "Please don't say that.”

"I mean it," you insisted, feeling a lump growing in your throat as the weight of your words sank in.

“Y/N, I have been imagining this moment for a long time, and I’ll be damned if this is how it's going to happen,” Wanda said, her voice cracking.

Before you could respond, the sudden chiming of both your phones interrupted the moment.

Tony: New information on the nominees for the world’s worst parents. We need you both here ASAP.

You put your phone back in your pocket, knowing you had to put a pin in this conversation. “I’ll drive,” you sighed.

The two of you silently traveled to the compound, the air heavy with unspoken words.

*^~^*

You rode the elevator in silence, and when the two of you walked into the conference room, it didn’t take a group of spies, soldiers, and assassins to see that something was wrong.

"Wonderful, the lovebirds have arrived. We may have found a way to—" Tony's voice trailed off.

The tension in the air was tangible as everyone observed both of you bypassing your usual seats next to each other. You settled into the chair next to Bucky as Wanda walked around to join Natasha on the other side of the table.

Alright, as I was saying," Tony pushed on, a hint of discomfort in his voice. "We've cracked the code to infiltrate Onyx Petroleum's operations. Where’s Tiny?”

In an instant, a figure materialized in a sleek, futuristic suit, almost as if he had appeared out of thin air. The protective visor of his helmet slid upwards, revealing a winded Scott Lang.

"You nearly squashed me!" he gasped.

"It's on you for using the suit here, Tic Tac," Sam quipped.

“Y/N, this is Scott Lang. The incredible shrinking felon and founder of X-Con Security Consultants in San Francisco.” Tony introduced.

“And Ant-Man,” Scott added incredulously.

"Right, Ant-Man," Tony said with a smirk. “Sorry, it’s always cracked me up that your superhero name is a bug I could squash with my shoe.”

"It’s nice to meet you, Scott," you said as he made his way around the table to shake your hand and wave to Wanda.

"Nice to meet you, too. I've heard a lot about you," Scott replied. "Say, did you happen to bring any chocolate with you? I'm famished. The airplane food was horrible."

Maria let out an exasperated sigh and stepped forward. "Scott, focus."

"Right," Scott said, shaking his head in agreement and returning to the front of the room.

"I've made sure Stuart Little is up to speed on all the details," Tony elaborated while displaying the pertinent intel on the screen.

"I live a short distance from Onyx Petroleum's Headquarters," he explained. "If you're thinking of handling this through infiltration, I can help."

"Like, on a microscopic level?" You asked curiously.

“We need to know what we're dealing with,” Bruce said.

"If they are setting the stage for underwater drilling in Sokovia, we need to be as close to those discussions as possible," Steve declared.

"That doesn't mean we won't consider more traditional approaches as well," Nat countered.

“My traditional approach involves kicking your parents in the face,” Yelena muttered.

“Thanks,” you said with a bittersweet smile.

“Backchannel intel tells us they are meeting with the Onyx Petroleum Board of Directors in three days,” Maria explained.

“Alright, file extraction while they're all occupied. In and out," Bucky proposed.

"And Lang will be a fly on the wall and keep us updated from the inside," Clint added.

"Ant!" Scott groaned.

Turning to Wanda, Tony asked, "Red, what do you think?”

"I think,” she hesitated, “you all know what is best," she said, glancing in your direction. "I'm sorry," she whispered, quickly leaving the room.

"Wanda, please wait," you called out, but it was too late. She had already vanished.

You glanced down at your hands, unable to meet anyone's gaze. Please, excuse me," you whispered as you left, trying to keep your emotions in check.

After a long silence, Kate broke the tension. “That was awkward.”

“FRIDAY, where are they headed?” Natasha asked.

“Ms. Y/L/N is heading toward her room, and Ms. Maximoff appears to be making her way to the dock,” FRIDAY replied.

"I got the redhead," Clint sighed as he and Natasha got up from the table.

*^~^*

“Wanda, are you alright?” Clint asked, his voice laced with concern as he stepped closer, gauging her reaction.

“I’m fine,” she replied, her voice devoid of energy.

Clint sat down beside her on the bench. “You know you're a terrible liar, right?”

Listen, I'm not Cap, so I'll be straight with you," Clint said, joining her on the bench. "What the hell was that back there?"

"I don't know," Wanda sighed, burying her head in her hands. "This whole situation is such a mess."

"Maybe," Clint mused, skipping a pebble across the lake. "Or maybe you can't see the forest for the trees.”

“Y/N lied to me," the redhead started.

"No, she didn't," Clint argued, raising his hand. "She kept the truth to herself until the right moment. Y/N has been struggling with this for weeks. If it were up to her, she would've told you as soon as she found out. We advised her to wait."

"That's why she's been so distant lately," Wanda realized.

"Plus, I don't think it's Y/N that you're angry at," Clint continued. “Not really.”

"What do you mean?" she asked.

"I think you're angry with yourself because you feel powerless," he said gently.

"That's absurd," she protested.

"Is it?" Clint asked. "Think about it. Stark's missile destroyed your life in Sokovia. We lost Pietro to Ultron, and now two oil tycoons are exploiting what's left of your homeland. Any one of those things would make anyone furious.”

She reached down, grabbed a pebble, and tossed it into the water, the ripples mirroring the turmoil in her mind.

"So, what if I am?" she challenged, her voice tinged with defiance.

"So," Clint began, his tone gentle yet firm. "You understand better than anyone the weight of a difficult past. Imagine what it was like for Y/N, growing up with those two schmucks, only to have them resurface when she finally has her life together and threatens the person she cares about most. That's a heavy burden to bear."

Wanda heaved a deep sigh as Clint’s words sunk in, finally letting go of all the pain that had been weighing her down since last night. She turned to Clint and asked, "When did you get so smart?"

His smirk widened as he wrapped his arms around the redhead, confessing, "Kate made me binge-watch This Is Us with her.”

*^~^*

A soft tap on the door preceded its slow opening.

“Hey, are you okay?” Natasha asked.

You were on the bed, propped up against the headboard, with your chin on your knees.

“I've had better days,” you responded.

“I'm guessing your first night living together didn't quite go as planned,” Nat remarked, settling into a similar position on the bed.

“No, it didn't,” you sighed. “Wanda didn't take the news about my parents well.”

“Well, that I could've guessed,” Nat replied.

“I thought I was doing what was best for her, but maybe I was just doing what was best for me,” you admitted.

Natasha could see the guilt swirling around inside you. Warranted or not, there was only one way she could think of to make you see things from Wanda’s perspective.

Did Wanda tell you where we all were during the Westview anomaly?" Natasha asked, her expression already conveying that she knew the answer.

After briefly pausing, you responded, "No, she didn't."

Nat stated firmly, “What I'm about to share with you is classified and stays within these walls."

"Great, more secrets," you grumbled.

"Just hear me out," Natasha urged, lightly swatting your arm. "Hayward thought that he had the lid sealed tight on the situation inside the Hex, but the team received a tip-off from a whistleblower within SWORD. At that time, we were spread across different continents, working with the Global Repatriation Council to manage the displacement of refugees. By the time we could intervene, Wanda's mental state was so fragile that they believed sending us in could have made the situation worse or put the citizens of Westview in more danger. After arguing with Haywood for two days, we tried to break through the barrier using Cap's Shield and Thor's Hammer, but nothing made a dent. The situation got heated, and we were forcibly removed after Tony called Hayward a “Government Douche.”

You smirked at the mental image of Tony going off on Hayward.

“SWORD covered it up, claiming it was just a training exercise, and Fury strictly prohibited us from looking for Wanda once the Hex was down. "I'll never forget how lost she was when she finally returned, Y/N," Nat said, her voice filled with the weight of the memory. “I made her spar with me the first day, even when she resisted, to help her reconnect with herself.”

The thought of Wanda in distress made your chest tighten. "Why are you telling me this?"

“We didn't just tell her we were there for her; we showed her. We opened our minds to her, and finally, she saw that we had been by her side all along," Natasha recounted. "Her grief made it hard for her to see what was right in front of her. You did what was best for Wanda, but her pain can distort the truth, even when you have her best interests at heart. So, no matter what you're telling her," she paused, her voice filled with empathy. "You may need to show her.”

*^~^*

Natasha left you to ponder her advice. You lay at the foot of the bed, your legs propped up against the wall, lost in thought. A gentle knock on the door interrupted your contemplation.

"Whoever it is, I'm not in the mood," you called out.

"Are you sure?" Wanda's voice came through the door as she opened it.

When you saw her, you quickly sat up. "Hi," you greeted her.

"Hi," she replied. "May I?" Wanda gestured towards the bed.

"Sure," you said nervously, making room for her beside you.

Wanda released a long, tired exhale and settled herself on the very edge of the bed.

"I have never been able to bring myself to visit the Sokovia Memorial," Wanda whispered, her voice barely audible as she gazed down at the floor. A tiny crimson wisp of magic flickered and swirled between her fingertips. "The neighboring nations had already divided the land before Damage Control even cleared the rubble. It's as if they had wiped it off the map."

You held your breath, hoping and praying she would keep talking.

“It was devastating," Wanda paused, her eyes struggling to find the right words. "But in a strange way, it was a relief. There was nothing more the world could take from Sokovia," she said, her voice trembling. "But now... they have found another way to desecrate the memory of all those who perished. Always more to take.”

You wrapped your arms around the redhead, whispering, "They won't take this," as Wanda finally let her guard down, tears streaming down her cheeks.

"I'm sorry, Wanda," you murmured, gently kissing her head. "I should have told you about my parents right away. I thought that if we had a plan in place first, I could spare you some unnecessary pain."

"I'm sorry, too," she said, wiping her tears. "I know you were just trying to protect me. I can't imagine what it was like for you the last couple of weeks."

Nat's words echoed in your mind. "Let me show you," you said.

"What?" Wanda inquired.

"Take a look inside," you said, tapping the side of your head.

"No, Y/N," Wanda insisted. "It's okay. I don't need to see—"

"I want you to see," your voice filled with determination.

She searched your face for any hesitation, but she saw none. “Okay, lay down on the bed.”

At her suggestion, you hurried back along the bed until you could lay stretched out.

“Are you sure about this, Y/N?” Wanda asked one more time.

“Yes,” you consented. “I trust you.”

“Okay, relax and close your eyes,” she instructed.

You did as she told you as Wanda sat cross-legged beside you. Threads of scarlet magic appeared, illuminating her face and lapping at her knuckles. She gently placed her fingertips to your temple. Warmth pervaded your heavy limbs and eased each one until you felt yourself lifted outside your body. Your thoughts immediately shifted from Wanda to the gentle comfort her magic provided as flashes of memories slid through Wanda’s mind like water in a stream.

“Those con artists from Onyx Petroleum are your parents.”

“She has a right to know! It was her home.”

"We need to tell Wanda about my parents' drilling in Sokovia. I can't take the guilt anymore.”

As she slowly delved deeper into your mind, a new memory emerged. Wanda saw a younger version of yourself sitting at the end of a grand dining table, absentmindedly swirling a spoon through a bowl of soup without taking a single bite.

“Y/N,” a gruff voice from the other end of the table called, grabbing your attention away from your now-cold bowl of soup.

"How did the shadowing of Derrick Evans go today? Did you have the chance to sit in on the Kaplan meeting?" inquired a distinguished man, impeccably dressed in a three-piece suit, with his salt-and-pepper hair neatly slicked back and gold-rimmed glasses resting on the bridge of his nose.

“What? Oh yeah, it was fine, Dad,” you answered.

He bristled at your lack of enthusiasm. “It wouldn't hurt to show a bit more initiative and graciousness. You will be running Onyx Petroleum someday.”

"Over my dead body," you muttered under your breath.

"What was that?" Your father asked.

"Nothing," you said.

"Your father is right, Y/N," chimed in a tall, elegant woman with blonde hair styled in a chic updo. "When you walk into our offices, your demeanor reflects on all of us."

Your mother wore designer jewelry and high heels as everyday attire, even at the dinner table. Internally rolling your eyes, you absentmindedly pushed your food around your plate.

"Y/N, what are all these charges for Green Peace and," he paused to adjust his glasses, looking incredulously at his phone, "The Environmental Defense Fund?" your Dad inquired.

“Organizations I made donations to,” you stated matter-of-factly

“Why would you do that, darling?” your mother asked surprised.

“Do you know how this will look if the media gets wind of this?” your Dad asked rhetorically.

“Like Onyx Petroleum cares about giving back to the environment that they're actively polluting,” you replied.

Your Dad looked exasperated. "Oh, don't start this again."

"Oil and gas companies are responsible for a large majority of climate-damaging emissions since the late eighties. Not to mention the pollutants can increase the risk of death from heart disease, stroke, lung cancer, and respiratory illness,” you stressed.

"Trust me, we know," your dad said. "The Federal Energy Regulatory Commission never fails to bring it up."

"But you just don't give a damn?" you yelled.

"Don't speak to your father that way," your mother interjected firmly, her voice tinged with authority.

"The last thing we need is for you to cast a shadow over everything we've worked so hard to build. This company puts a roof over your head and clothes on your back!" Your father shouted.

You looked at your parents, your eyes filled with anger and sadness that Wanda had never witnessed. With a shake of your head, you pushed your dinner away, rose from the table, and left without uttering another word.

The memory faded out as Wanda's magic slowly retreated from your mind. Your eyes slowly opened. It took you a moment to process everything you had just seen, everything Wanda had just seen.

"Take it slow," Wanda said, gently assisting you to sit up.

Wanda paused, her voice catching in her throat. "I... I had no idea," she said softly.

"Yeah, well," you mumbled, unable to meet Wanda's eyes.

“I'm so sorry, Y/N. I should have given you a chance to explain," Wanda said solemnly.

"Yes, you definitely should have," you smirked, trying to lighten the mood, which made the redhead smile. "But I value our honest relationship more than anything, and I should have been more forthcoming with you about everything much earlier.”

Wanda enveloped you in her warm embrace. The feeling was familiar, like a cozy blanket on a cold day. You love it. You loved her.

Finally, as you released each other, you summoned all your courage. "About this morning. I know that wasn't the right moment, but,” you paused to take a deep breath. “I love you, Wanda."

"I love you too," the redhead whispered as she gently caressed your cheek.

Her words felt like a swarm of a million butterflies had suddenly burst into flight in your stomach. Wanda drew closer and pressed her lips against yours with an overwhelming tenderness and love you had never experienced.

“Let’s go home,” you declared.

As you swung open your bedroom door, Tony, Natasha, Bucky, Clint, Yelena, and Kate stumbled into the room, landing in a tangled heap on the floor.

"Were you all eavesdropping?" Wanda inquired, arching an eyebrow.

"Absolutely not! No way that is absurd. Of course not," they all protested in unison.

*^~^*

After reviewing the mission plan again, you bid farewell to the team. On your way home, you picked up Billy and Tommy from school. Despite Wanda's objections, you made an unexpected detour to The Candy Bar, where the boys were treated to free ice cream. The evening passed with homework and dinner; before you realized it, the boys had drifted off to sleep. You and Wanda spent the rest of the evening watching a movie in bed together.

Who's that guy? I thought he was with them," you whispered to Wanda, leaning in closer.

"No, he's not with them. Remember the scene at the lake?" Wanda tried to explain.

"What lake?" you asked, feeling lost.

"Oh, right. That's when you went on about why Peanut Butter M&M’s are better than Peanut M&M’s," Wanda chuckled.

"Hey, I'm just trying to give you a solid compare and contrast for your next trip to the grocery store," you said with a grin.

Wanda giggled as she playfully smacked you with her pillow. "You're such a goofball," she teased.

"Ouch!" you exclaimed, retaliating by smacking her back with your pillow.

"Okay, truce," Wanda called out, using her magic to lift the pillow out of your hand effortlessly.

"What's this? The great Scarlett Witch taken down by a simple pillow," you playfully taunted. "Oh, how the mighty have fallen."

"You're just fortunate that I happen to love you," she retorted.

Out of nowhere, your cell phone started ringing on the nightstand next to you. Glancing at the clock, you couldn't fathom who would call at such a late hour. The unfamiliar number on the screen gave you pause. Despite your hesitation, you answered, thinking that anything could be happening – the shop could be on fire for all you knew.

You slide your finger across the screen, bringing the phone to your ear. "Hello?"

In an instant, Wanda saw the color drain from your face. "Y/N? What's wrong? Who is it?"

“Hi, Mom.”

Taglist: @xxxtwilightaxelxxx @bibliophilicbi @darkstar225

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lexi0widow · 1 year ago

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ARTHURTV HEADCANNONS

Headcannons of Arthur taking care of a drunk reader

!super self indulgent!

Poor Arthur is minding his own business in his apartment and hes just about to go to sleep

Until he gets a call from poor Simon who’s had to go out to a bar to pick up Talia

However he didn’t wanna leave you alone so he decided to get your beloved boyfriend Arthur to come get you

Obviously being the amazing boyfriend he is Arthur gets straight out of bed to come get you

He arrives and sees you ordering ‘one last drink’

Before you can however he goes up to you and wraps his arm around you to pull you away frkm the drinks

‘Come on Y/N, its time to go home.’

At first you freak out because you didnt know he was coming

‘Ew get off me you perv! I have a boyfriend!!’

That is until you turn around

‘ARTHUR!!’

Now that everyone in the bar knows his name and that the two of you are dating die to the fact that you are clinging onto him he decides its time for the two of you to make your exit

He walks you to his car with you blabbing about anything and everything the entire way

The car ride home is full of you slurring your words and talking about how much you love him

He smiles and lets out a breathy laugh every so often

When you get home Arthur is busy locking the door whilst you collapse onto the couch

He comes and crouches next to you brushing your hair out of your face

‘Wanna go to bed?’

‘Mhm, I have a bad head’

He grabs you some paracetamol and helps you take them

You decide that you just wanna sit with him for awhile and hes okay with that

You fall asleep in his arms

When he realises he takes you up to bed

Taking off your heels and replacing your dress for one of his shirts

He climbs into bed next to you

Pulling you into his arms

‘I love you’

Is the last thing you say before fully drifting off

He loves you too and you know that

He knows you’ll regret this in the morning but he doesn’t mind taking care of you

Thats what hes here for

LMFAO this is so long I need to chill but this idea has been on my mind for SO LONG

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slasher-dasher · 4 months ago

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Hi hi!

Are you able to write headcanons for Bo Sinclair, Billy Lenz, Billy Loomis, Pyramid Head, with a fail girl or a Girlfailure s/o? Or something like that?

In the movies/games they’re in, the protagonist is usually innocent, resourceful, and morally good. So how would they be with a person who has committed some terrible action (killing a person close to them by accident or selfish reason), is kind of a loser, pathetic-ish, etc. They’re good with weapons, and survive literally anything though. They try to compensate for what they did often, and feels like helping them or doing what the slashers say does that.

Very grateful of their love, and the type to say “I would die for you!” Instead of “I love you” like a normal person. I was thinking of James Sunderland and Michael Afton, and my mind came to this, haha.

Slashers w/a Girlfailure S/O

︶꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷♡꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦︶

Bo Sinclair:

Bo has led a bunch of people to their waxy deaths, and he was intent on doing the same to you

How you were able to avoid literally every trap set around town baffled him to the point where he took matters into his own hands

He was even more surprised to see that you had done the same to one of the statues that had gotten a little courageous and tried to escape with you

"Darlin' you are so goddamn pathetic" "You mean it? 🥺" You've been his ever since. Bo rarely lets you out of his sight because he likes to watch you fumble with all the tasks/chores he gives you

He does put your knowledge of weapons to good use when the victims escape. He sends you "on the hunt", as he likes to call it, and often stays back to watch you work

Billy Lenz:

You're the first to figure out that he's up in the attic purely by wandering up there to grab stuff out of storage (he immediately tackled you). You surprised him by actually being able to fight him off!

Sometimes he likes to call just to see what he can get you to ramble about (or confess); he was very caught off guard when you started using his own tactics on him and promptly hung up the first time. You didn't hear from him for a few hours--

Billy is almost always on your heels; there have been many close-calls with the other members in the house and his hiding places get more creative every day

The difference between you two is that Billy is very reactive when he feels his guilt, where you internalize it; Billy kills to defend/on impulse and you kill to protect/by choice.

I think it's very clear that you and Billy harbor a similar guilt- Killing does distress and upset him and although it's subtle, he sees the same in you too. He appreciates when you try to help him, and he tries to help you too! But neither of you end up feeling any relief

Billy Loomis:

He picks on you often, sometimes to get a reaction (affectionate) and sometimes to be an asshole (derogatory)

Billy likes to toy with your guilt by making you help him with his calls, specifically by being on-scene and waiting to strike. He would never admit it, but he was a little jealous that you were better at chases than he was

"But Billy you told me to cha-" "I didn't tell you to almost get killed!! You might be good with a knife but I won't help you if you get caught."

Loves to admire you after a chase. He knows the look in your eyes because it's the same one in his, patches up any scrapes or stabs while calling you an idiot for almost getting caught, admires and even compliments your strategy, it's when he's the most honest.

Billy doesn't expect you to atone for anything. Just follow his plan and don't get caught. He's making you into a perfect partner in crime~

Pyramid Head:

Silent Hill is known to have visitors who are looking for a way to compensate for their sins, so he's not surprised when you come looking for the same thing

What Silent Hill is not known for is having visitors who can fight back. Most try to grab a pipe to defend themselves but you, you were either very lucky or very resourceful.

Every time he thought you were done for he'd be pleasantly surprised with the improvised weapon you grabbed appeared seemingly out of thin air in front of you

He liked to watch you fight off a group of monsters before intervening, it wasn't much fun when you got overwhelmed

Often carries you back to safety. Many of the monsters and residents learn that Pyramid Head is not far when you are nearby so they eventually learn to steer clear of you

(James Sunderland is v girlfail-core so I absolutely get it)

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midnightwritingsessions · 15 days ago

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Fandom guide-> Who I write for:

Billie Eilish

Louis Tomilson

Zayn Malik

Wolverine

Harry Styles

Scott summers

Wanda Maximoff

Black Widow

Niall Horan

Joost Klein

Arthur hill

Willne

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mundoperla · 2 years ago

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HEYYYY IF U WANNA REQUEST SOMETHING HERES A QUICK RUNDOWN💃

𝙂𝙖𝙢𝙚𝙨 & 𝙃𝙤𝙧𝙧𝙤𝙧 𝙁𝙞𝙡𝙢𝙨 𝙄 𝙬𝙞𝙡𝙡 𝙬𝙧𝙞𝙩𝙚 𝙛𝙤𝙧:

Ｇａｍｅｓ：

Resident Evil (all games + damnation/vendetta)

Dead by Daylight

Silent Hill

ＨｏｒｒｏｒＦｉｌｍｓ：

Friday the 13th

The Collector

Black Christmas

House of Wax

House of 1000 Corpses

Texas Chainsaw Massacre (1974 & 2003-2006)

My Bloody Valentine

Terrifier

Hellraiser (1987)

Halloween (all movies)

The Boy

Scream (1996)

Things I will write:

SFW, NSFW, dub-con, fluff, headcanons

⭑･ﾟﾟ･*:༅｡.｡༅:*ﾟ:*:✼✿

Things I will not write:

non-con, p*dophilia, inc*st, none of that problematic shit here bru

⭑･ﾟﾟ･*:༅｡.｡༅:*ﾟ:*:✼✿

(っ◔◡◔)っ ♡ enjoy your visit! ♡

or not idk i cant stop u

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wolfkg · 2 years ago

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Never Alone

Billy Hargrove x Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

Part 2

A/N: This is defiently the best/favorite fanfic I have writtien. Thank you for liking it as much as I do. Not sure how many parts are going to be in this story because I’m still writing this story but I will post what I have and see where it goes. Thank you all for the support again I love you all :)

Warnings: Language, bondage, injury, blood

Immediately Billy’s tone changed when he spoke “Where are you, darling?” I whisper back as the footsteps were getting closer “my bedroom bathroom it's the first thing I thought of doing but my record player is playing and there bound to get in here soon.” I can hear him running around the shop probably getting his keys “Y/n it's going to be ok I’m on my way darling stay hidden and quiet for as long as you can.” Now I heard two different footsteps heading to my bedroom and started shaking “please Billy hurry.” The sound of my bedroom door being kicked in caused me to drop the phone, possibly hanging it up I didn’t even touch it the second I heard voices outside the door. “She isn’t here Jason” the voice I recognized immediately was Tommy Hagan the Tommy Hagan who I was told moved to California what's he doing here with Jason? What's Jasons plan for me now? “Let not give up just yet Tommy she’s here keep looking.” The sound of my record player smashing into the ground made me cover my mouth afraid I would let out a sound. The two boy's footsteps moved around my room tossing thing left and right, “I know you’re here witch, we’ve been watching the house for weeks we know you’re here, just make it easier on yourself and come out and talk to Tommy and I.” Jason speaking mad me shake with tears falling down my eyes the sound of footsteps stopping in front of the bathroom door made my breath hitch. A shadow appeared under the door then before I knew it the bathroom door was kicked in and standing before me was Jason and Tommy. “Get her to the bed Tommy.”

Billy’s Pov

Adrenaline coursed through me as I jumped into my car flooring it down the street to Y/n’s place. I immediately called Eddie hoping he would answer. “Come on Eddie pick up.” The phone rang three times before he picked up “Hey handsome on intermission” I didn’t let him finish as I spoke frantically “Eddie you must get to Y/n’s house someone broke in I don’t know who, but I have a suspicion it has something to do with Jason.” I heard Eddie arguing with his manager saying he had to go and wasn’t going to argue with him “I’m on my way Billy, I’ll meet you at her house it's going to ok.” I wasn’t sure if he was assuring me or himself, but I hung up and dialed Hoppers number. The phone rang and rang but no answer, I called again but still the same outcome “Where the hell are you Hop!?!” I then thought of him possibly being out with Joyce, so I called her next still speeding down the road. Joyce answered on the first ring making me sigh in relief “Billy?” “Joyce, is Hop with you? I need you to put him on the phone!” She must have handed him the phone saying it was me. “What’s so important to interrupt on my day off Hargrove?” I was shaking with anger and anxiety trying to calm down and not insult Hopper knowing he doesn’t know the emergency “Hop I need you to get to Y/n’s house now someone broke in she's in trouble.” Without question Hopper said he would meet me there and hung up. I was a few blocks away when I saw smoke and smelled it as well hoping and praying it wasn’t Y/n’s place. I drove around the corner only for my hoping and praying it wasn’t her place to fade away until it was staring at me right in the face. Fear, anger, anxiety all mixed into my emotions as I parked and jumped out of my car seeing with my own eyes that Y/n’s place was on fire.

Y/n’s Pov

A blinding headache was what I felt the second I opened my eyes, everything around me was blurry and hazy but it was all becoming clear when I felt my legs tied together and my hands. I tried to move and get up but to no avail, I tried to speak as well but something was covering my mouth making me panic. Once my eyes adjusted to my surroundings, I was laying on my bed with my hands handcuffed to the headboard and my legs taped together with my room illuminated with candles making the room look dark and red. I tried to break out of my restrains as much as possible and scream out for help but the tape on my mouth kept it all in. The sudden sound of someone walking into the room made me freeze and look to see Jason and Tommy both smiling my way. “I wouldn’t try nothing if I were you.” I started shaking with fear when Jason kneeled beside me smiling “its ok Y/n this was bound to happen sooner or later, people fear you some want you out of town and some want you dead. Turns out no one can decide what to do with you but, I’ve decided to take matters into my own hands. You turned my best friend against me, you turned the town freak into a popular rockstar.” Jason then got up and moved around the room while speaking. “The spell you have Billy under will disappear the second you’re gone, and everything will go back to normal, Billy and I will take care of the freak ourselves. Witches belong in hell, which is where you're going to go when Tommy and I are done with you. I stuck with Tommy’s threat to you back in high school burning you at the stake, but I had a better idea.”

In my panic I didn’t realize that around the room besides the candles were propane tanks and gas tanks and the smell of gasoline hit my nose so hard my eyes started watering. They were really going to kill me all because of a rumor that Jason started. “Don’t worry all the gasoline you smell is downstairs we wouldn’t want to you die quickly now would we.” Tommy spoke “will start the fire downstairs it will burn everything there then work its way up to your bedroom then blow up, not unless the smoke kills you first.” I screamed and pleaded with him through the tape to let me go but nothing was getting through, and I knew that. “Freaks hang and Witches burn, I’m sorry it had to come to this Y/n.” The boys then walked out of the room leaving me handcuffed to the bed screaming at them to come back. But I knew they wouldn’t there determined to kill me, to finally kill the Witch of Hawkins and then hang Eddie “the freak” Munson after. I pulled on the handcuffs trying desperately to escape, the sound of glass breaking downstairs warned me that the fire had started so I only had so long to break out of my situation. I immediately start scooting up to get the tape closer to the handcuffs trying to rip it off.

I ignored the sound of things breaking and burning downstairs as I finally got the tape off my mouth, breathing in the smoke that was gathering on the ceiling, the burning sensation in my throat caused me to cough and panic at the same time. The cuffs were tight and restraining me from moving as much as I wanted to, I pulled and as much as could, but the cuffs just kept sinking into my wrist causing me to scream out wanting so desperately to break free, to live, to be ok but the cuffs just wouldn’t budge. I yanked and pulled on the cuffs a few more times before the smoke was getting too much into my lungs and causing my eyes to water and become blurry. The smoke was getting darker as well, letting me know it was getting closer to my room, who knew how much the fire destroyed downstairs and how much time I had left till it got up here. The cuffs were staying and so was I, I excepted my fate now. The fate the entire town wanted, for me to burn in hell. The thought of dying this way, the thought of never seeing my boys again brought tears to my eyes as I pulled one last time as hard as I could on the cuffs hoping the headboard would break. I watched as the blood dripped from my wrist not caring and just hoping I would be free but to no avail. I let my arms fall back down onto the headboard as tears continued to fall down my face as I let out a bloodcurdling scream.

The smoke was getting to me too much now that my vision was fading in and out, as I was coughing every five seconds. The smoke in my lungs was causing me to have a headache and possible hallucinations because the next thing I knew I was looking into the eyes of Billy, my Billy. “Darling, can you hear me?” His voice was fading in and out as he was so I knew he wasn’t real he couldn’t be, I had to be already dead. I then saw Eddie fading in behind him trying to get my attention as well “Billy? Eddie?” They both tried speaking to me, but I couldn’t hear them. “Handcuffs, headboard” was what I could get out “Eddie” Eddie faded away assuming he had disappeared along with everything around me, but I then felt my arms finally fall from the headboard and someone pull me into their arms. The visions talked more but nothing was getting to me, I then felt the metal leave my wrist and someone whisper “stay with me Darling.” I think I was being carried but it also felt like floating, I couldn’t tell what was happening, what was real but the warmth I was feeling wrapped around me just brought me safety and comfort and I didn’t want to leave it. Different things happened at once warmth turned to cold the second, I was gone from whatever gave me comfort and safety. There were bright lights all around me as I felt I was swaying back and forward like in a boat. My vision was nothing but bright and smoggy not knowing what I’m looking at and where I was, with so much happening my body finally gave into it tired state and I sighed excepting my death, and never seeing my boys ever again. I hope they know how much I loved them and wished our time together lasted longer than it did. My body finally relaxed as everything faded away.

Billy’s Pov

Fire. That’s all I saw when I stepped out of my car. Y/n’s house was a blaze with people surrounding the area, mostly her neighbors. I couldn’t take my eyes off the blaze as I heard Eddie’s van tires screeching to a halt next to my car. I then saw Hopper and Joyce pull up in Hopper's car on the other side of the street. Hopper was talking to his radio, probably calling for the fire department. Eddie was now beside me looking at Y/n’s house as shocked as I was, we both looked at each other knowing what we had to do and before Hop or anyone could stop us, we were both running into the house to save our girl. The smoke and fire were all around the Livingroom destroying everything in its path, boards were falling off hinges. “Billy her room” the fire hadn't reached the stairs yet, so we had to hope she was up there okay. I ran up the stairs with Eddie right behind me. The smoke is much worse upstairs, but we keep going. Once we get to her room the first thing, we see is a bunch of propane and gasoline tanks surrounding her bed with Y/n handcuffed and legs tapped together, the anger was boiling inside me, but I put it away the second I moved to her side trying to get her attention “Darling can you hear me?” she looked at me but it looked like she wasn’t there, her face was pale and eyes red from the smoke but she spoke to me “Billy, Eddie?” I nodded and Eddie spoked “we’re here darling we’re going to get you out of here.” The next thing she said confused us “handcuffs, headboard” it was like she was here with us, and she wasn’t. Eddie moved instantly to the left side of her and started to kick the headboard in until it broke away dropping her hands onto her lap.

I scooped her into my arms and her head fell into the crook of my shoulder, as Eddie cut off the tape from her legs. I looked in Eddie’s direction as he looked at the state of our girl whoever did this will be dead where they stand, Eddie pulled his lock pick out of his pocket “I got the cuffs.” They clicked off her wrist and Eddie ripped some of his shirt wrapping the pieces around her injuries. “We need to get her out of here Ed’s” he nodded “the fire hasn’t hit the stairs yet if we make it down before it does, we should be able to get to the front door.” I nod and lift her up “I got her, lead the way, Eddie.” He walked out the door as I followed, just having her in my arms still breathing gives me hope that she’ll be ok, we just needed to get her to a hospital. The hallway was covered with smoke, but we moved fast enough to not breathe as much in. We moved fast down the steps heading for the front door when the threshold came crumbling down blocking our way out. “Shit, Billy the side window.” I saw Eddie running to the window, but I turned around to notice the fire trailing up the stairs making me follow Eddie faster. “You first Ed’s then I’ll pass her to you but quick the fire heading to her room.” He nodded and moved through the window making it to the other side and encouraged me to hand Y/n over to him which I did slowly, once Eddie had her I jumped through the window knowing her house was going to blow any minute. Eddie gave Y/n back to me as he went to get the attention of the ambulance, and I took her far from the house.

I yelled at Hopper and Joyce and everyone around to get back, so they did, halfway to the ambulance the house behind me exploded making Y/n’s house completely collapse leaving nothing but fire and wood piled into one. Eddie came back next to me with the paramedics who took her out of my arms and placed her in the gurney leading her to the ambulance. We both followed about to jump into the ambulance, but they stopped us “Sorry family only.” I looked at them angrily “sir we’re all she’s got please.” but they wouldn’t let us, so Joyce offered to go and said she would keep an eye on her, she told them she was her adopted daughter, so they let her on. Eddie and I watched the ambulance take our girl away hopefully to help her. Hopper and Steve who probably showed up when Eddie and I went to get Y/n. “What the hell were you two thinking running into a fire like that, you could have been killed.” Hopper yelled moving us away from the house to his car, he continued to tell us that it was reckless to do that while Eddie tried to defend us both, but my attention went elsewhere, my attention was to the man hiding in the shadows of the forest.

Jason, Jason fucking Carver. I knew he was the cause of all this, and I was not about to let him get away with it. Jason walked into the darkness of the forest causing me to shove passed Steve and Eddie call after me. Assuming Hopper was following me as well I picked up my pace towards Jason hoping Hopper won't stop me from killing him. The second I was close enough I grabbed the back of his collar turned him around to face me and pinned him to a tree “you mother fucker.” he then laughed “nice to see you to best friend.” I shoved him even harder to the tree “I'm not your friend, you almost killed Y/n tonight, and you don’t get to live after that.” Eddie then came running through the trees seeing I had Jason pinned to a tree he immediately turned from confusion to anger. “Oh, look whose joined the party, king of the freaks.” Jason yelled in Eddie direction making me punch him hard in the face breaking his nose “call Eddie a freak again I dare you.” Eddie walked up next to me; I moved aside giving Eddie enough room to watch him knee Jason in the stomach. “You touched our girl, you layed your hands on her, almost kill her tonight and for that, for that Carver you’re going to pay.” Eddie then kicked him in the head as I kicked him in the stomach. Eddie then took out his knife ready to use it when Hopper yelled at us to stop but we didn’t want to we couldn’t he had to pay, he had to fucking die. Hopper pushed me away from Jason, while Steve held Eddie back. “This won't fix anything. This won't change what happened boys.” Eddie spoke before me “It may not but it will make me feel so much better.” Hopper picked up Jason and had him leaning on the tree behind him “you both do this; you kill this boy you end up going to jail and what do you think will happen to Y/n? She’ll have no one she already lost her house don’t have her lose you both too.”

Eddie and I looked at each other knowing he was right, Eddie pushed Steve off him while I backed away from Jason and Hopper. Jason then started laughing which got all our attention. “Is something funny Carver.” He continued to laugh as he spoke “you all, so eager to protect the Witch when she’s poisoning you all.” Hopper's expression changed instantly the second he called Y/n a Witch “what did you say?” Jason then laughed harder as blood was trickled down his nose “the Witch may have survived today but there's always tomorrow and the next day. I won't stop until her spell is broken on this town, me and Tommy will end it.” Anger boiled in me by the mention of Tommy’s name “you got that psychopath to help you!?!” he laughed more “he wanted her to burn since he met her.” Hopper was face to face with him “are you admitting to trying to kill Y/n tonight.” He laughed again making me want to wipe the grin off his face, Eddie noticed and grabbed my hand making me calm down instantly. “Maybe I am maybe I'm not but whatever happened she dissevered, and if you arrest me my father will just bail me out and I’ll try again.” If that didn’t convince Hopper I don’t know what will. Hopper pulled out his handcuffs and yanked Jason away from the tree he was leaning on. He then led him to a smaller skinnier tree putting one handcuff on and slamming his back into the tree. Hopper put his arms behind his back handcuffing him to the tree which left Eddie and I confused. “Hey sheriff what the hell are you doing?” He ignored Jason and walked up to Eddie and I smiling. “Jason Carver will be put away for a long time I'll make sure of that but his injuries I have no idea where they came from, you do what you both have to do.” We looked at him and smiled while Jason screamed out “whoa wait you can’t do that Sheriff.” he turned back towards him “I can and I will because the girl you’re talking about is my adopted daughter and I will not have you around to harm her anymore, so boys.” he looked back at us with a serious expression, “I give you full permission to beat the holy hell out of him.” he then walked away from us saying one last thing “I’ll arrest him when you’re done.” Steve followed Hopper back to his car as Eddie and I faced Jason ready to avenge Y/n. Jason looked our way terrified “let's get things started shall me.”

By the time we were done with Jason, you could hardly recognize him, he had cuts and bruises all over his face along with a black eye and a broken nose than he already had. We agreed with Hop that we wouldn’t kill him, but it was very tempting Eddie got one last hit in before he pulled out his knife and placed it under his neck, I got nervus hoping Eddie wouldn’t do what I know he’s thinking “Ed’s?” Jason began laughing again “looks like the freaks got some balls why don’t you do it Munson end my life see where it gets you.” I slowly walked towards Eddie trying to get his attention “Eddie put the knife down don’t do it.” Eddie was shaking then still having the knife pressed into his neck “we could do it Billy we can end this right now, Y/n would be ok once he’s gone, she would be free of him.” I then was right next to Eddie seeing the fear and pain in his eyes I know he just wanted to keep her safe as much as I do, but we can't do this it would ruin the both of us and Y/n. “you’re right we could end it right here right now kill him and don’t blink an eye, but Eddie Hoppers right think about Y/n.” he interrupted me “I am thinking about her, I’m thinking about her safety he goes to jail Billy he’s only going to get out and harm her again maybe even kill her the next time and we can’t take that chance.” I placed my hand on his holding the knife “Eddie, this will only make it worse we kill him we go to jail and Y/n is alone forever she has no one and now nowhere to go we’re all she has left, please baby put the knife down and let's go see our girl.” His stayed forward never tearing his eyes away from Jason as his hand shook letting everything, I said sink in. Finally, Eddie’s hand lowered down placing the knife back in his pocket trying to keep his composure “let's go love.” We both walked away ignoring the sounds of Jason screaming at us to come back, leaving him for Hopper to deal with.

We walked back out of the forest seeing Y/n’s house finally out from the fire department, Hopper walked over to us asking if he was still alive, we told him yes and that we were heading to the hospital. Steve said he would take Eddie’s car back to his house while Hopper was going to stay and see if he could find any of Y/n’s things left in the debris and bring it to the hospital. Eddie followed me to my car, but I stopped him before we can get in “stay here.” I opened my trunk pulling out my first aid kit and telling him to sit on the hood “I’m fine Bill’s we have to get to Y/n.” I reach out my hand for him to give me his he gave me a look but did what I said, “I’m going to take care of you, so Y/n won't kill me. This might sting.” I poured peroxide on his hand as he hisses “what about your hand, it's as bad as mine.” I laugh “I’ll take care of that myself you and Y/n are my first priority.” Eddie smiled my way while saying “you’re our priority too you know.” I laugh “yea I know.” I then wrapped his hand with a bandage and then told him to get in the car as I took care of my hand. I jumped into the driver's seat, starting up my car and drove Eddie and I as fast as I could to the hospital hoping and praying that Y/n is ok.

Eddie’s Pov

So much was flashing through my head. Fear, anxiety, anger it was all hitting me so fast I had nothing on my mind but Y/n. She was in the hospital because one person saw her different saw our relationship different called her a Witch called me a freak. One rumor started it all for her and I wish I could change it. I wish I could go back and make sure none of this happened at all. But that would mean Y/n, Billy and I not being together, and I didn’t want that I never want that I love them both and I would do anything for them even if it means leaving their side to make them have a better life. Maybe if our relationship stops, she would be ok he would be ok I may be alone again but maybe it's for the best. “I know that look” I looked towards Billy and saw him looking my way as well “whatever you’re thinking about won't change anything Eddie what happened; happened and we can’t change that, if you’re thinking about leaving us, I won't let you it's not going to happen.” it's crazy how well Billy can read me and know exactly what I’m thinking “Y/n needs us Eddie and I’m not letting you walk away.” I spoke loudly “what if it’s the only way to keep you both safe, this is all happening only because you’re both with me the Witch thing didn’t start till, she was with us. What if it all ends if we let her go?” Billy sighs and glares my way “and what if it doesn’t what if we leave her go to the jobs that want us mine in California and yours who knows where and this entire town kills her anyway, it's not just Jason who thinks she’s a Witch this whole town does and we’re the only ones keeping her safe from everyone. I love you Eddie and I know your scared for her and for us but if you ever think about leaving us again, I swear I’ll kill you; you understand me?” I know he was angry with me hell I was angry with myself for even thinking about leaving either one of them. “I’m sorry Bill’s, I just want you and her to be ok.” I then felt his hand on mine squeezing it tight but still looking at the road “I’m here Eddie and so is Y/n and we’re going to be ok as long as we’re together, I promise.” I smiled his way and brought his hand to my lips kissing it softly as he drove faster to the hospital.

#eddie munson #eddie x reader #billy hargrove #billy x reader #x fem!reader #stranger things #fanfic #running up that hill #polyamourus pride #joeseph quinn #dacre montgomery #xreader

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pollenallergie · 2 years ago

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i have a best friend!eddie draft that i’m still editing, but in the meantime, i’d also like to know which of my other WIPs people would like to see me focus on. i mean, i’m a big proponent of ‘write whatever you want,’ but it’s nice to know what my moots and frequent supporters like seeing from me.

#eddie munson x reader #billy knight x reader #ralph timewasters x reader #ralph penbury x reader #chrissy cunningham x reader #rockstar!eddie munson x reader #dad!rockstar!eddie munson x reader #dad!eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #billy knight #ralph timewasters #ralph penbury #ralph pickering harmal hill #chrissy cunningham #rockstar!eddie munson #dad!rockstar!eddie munson #dad!eddie munson

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roadkillremi · 1 year ago

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Catch Me.

Billy Loomis X F!Reader X Stu Macher

MasterList

Warnings : MINORS DNI,( the following is all consented ) degrading, tying up, chasing around with a knife, chasing through woods, language, exposing the readers chest, a small grinding moment

Summary : Billy and Stu love to play their little games on Reader. This time it's a game of cat and mouse in the woods. But what happens when she makes it past the woods?

Billy reflected his sick games onto you all the time. He would pick out clothes for you to wear. They would be the most feminine and dainty things. This time it was a white night gown that went to your ankles. Billy smiled at you, "So pretty.". You looked up at him, "Billy I wanna go to bed.". He looked at you, "and leave me alone?". You darted your eyes around the room.

"No- I'm just tired." You whined. Billy shook his head, "You should have thought of that earlier. Before you called me all needy and shit.". You looked down ashamed of yourself, Billy grabbed your chin.

"It's okay, baby. Let's play a game, hm?". You looked up at him, "Billy I'm bad at games." You whispered.

"Shh, not at this one. Now let's play one of your favorites when we were kids.". Your eyes widen and you shook your head.

"Yes. Let's play cat and mouse in the woods." He grabbed your wrist taking you outside. You breathed heavily, you were sure it was another psychotic break from his mother leaving. He walked to the border of the woods.

"You run. I count to 15.".

"What about Stu?-" you whispered. Billy looked into the woods, "You know what happens when I catch you. So Run.".

"Billy. I'm scared." You said softly. He looked over at you, "Do you know what to say when you're uncomfortable?". You nodded, "What is it? What's the word?". You swallowed, "Parrot." Billy nodded, "Now run." He demanded. You took off wincing at the pain of your bare feet hitting the sticks. You glanced behind you, nothing yet. You stumbled down a hill tripping onto your knees. You hissed in pain, you heard Billy's boots against the leaves. You stood up quickly trying to find a hiding spot. You darted around finding two big rocks to hide between. You hated to admit it, but you loved running from Billy. He knew it and that's why he did this to you. You heard a low whistle and foot step. You looked down at the ground trying to steady your breath. Billy squatted by one opening of the rocks.

"Found you."

You crawled out the other end and ran off. You knew if you ran far enough you'd make it to Stus house. And you'd win.

His heavy steps were close behind you. The cold air stung your lungs. You pumped your arms faster as you saw Stus house in the distance. You felt relief in you and tried to run faster in the field of overgrown grass. Billy's footsteps grew faster and louder, you stumbled upon the porch. You banged on the door, "Stu! Stu! Open up!". Stu opened the door and you ran in and slammed the door shut. Stu looked at you a bit surprised.

"What's wrong?" He asked. He held you close to his lanky body.

"Someone's chasing me!" You panted, a knock on the door echoed. You shook your head, "Don't answer it, Stu.". Yes I backed up from him as Stu opened the door with a soft chuckle. Billy walked in and looked at you.

"This is the farthest she's made it..." Stu said with a wide smile. Billy nodded, "It is. She usually trips so God damn much.". You backed up into the couch causing you to fall. Billy and Stu walked into the living room looking down at you. Billy squatted, "What now, Bunny?".

"I-I won!" You fussed. Billy smiled and gently grabbed your chin.

"So naive. So dumb. So Pretty. That's why you're our final girl." He said grinning. Stu sat you up right, "Look at your dress it's all dirty.". You looked at Billy, "He made me wear it.". Stu put his finger on his chin, "Better take it off so I can wash it.". You shook your head, "No.". Billy stared at you, he leaned into your ear.

"Are you still wanting to play?"

You nodded, he backed away before standing up.

"Stu take her upstairs." He demanded. Stu grabbed at your hips, you pushed him away getting up. Stu took out his pocket hunting knife flicking the blade up. Billy gave Stu a small nod, you ran up the stairs. Stu laughed running after you, "Come on! Don't be scared, baby!". You ran around the hallways before locking yourself in a bathroom. Stu banged on the door, "Let me in!". You stayed silent, "I know you're in there.". The doorknob jiggled aggressively before it went silent. You stayed there waiting for a sign of him. You slowly creaked the door open looking down the hall. You stepped out silently walking, Billy pushed you against the wall.

"Get off!" You fussed. Billy smiled, "Got her.". Stu huffed, "I wanted to catch her.". Billy glared at him, "Then handle the brat.". He threw you towards him, Stu grabbed your wrists and pulled you into his room.

"You're okay with this?" Stu asked softly. You nodded, "Yes, Stu.". He smiled pushing you onto the bed, Billy walked in holding rope.

"Let's see if she wants to be a rope bunny for us.". Billy grabbed your ankles. You kicked at him trying to fight it off. He smacked your leg leaving a red sting. He tied your ankles together tightly. You kept fighting against Stu as he tried to grab your wrists. He put his knife up to your neck, you stopped fighting him. You stared up at him instead, Stu smiled and grabbed your wrists tying them together.

"What now?" You ask softly. Billy tilted his head to the side, "We hurt you." He smiled. Your eyes widen, he chuckled "Don't worry.". He grabbed Stus knife dragging it down your nightgown.

"It won't last long.".

Stu stood above you staring down at you. He grabbed your face smooshing your cheeks.

"Don't worry, sweetie. Its the stuff you like.". He let go of your face and back away with a wide smile. Billy pushed your ankles up revealing your underwear to the two men.

"Seems like she's enjoying it." He smiled. He put his knee onto your clothed cunt. He pushed it down watching you whine beneath him.

"Poor little whore. So needy for us." Billy whispered. Stu watched intensely, "Should've thought twice before calling us. Telling us how much you wanted us." Stu cooed. You groaned causing Billy to apply more pressure. You moaned softly grinding against his knee. He smacked your thigh causing you to yelp.

"fucking whore." Billy muttered. Stu hiked up your night gown more revealing your chest.

"No bra either." He tsked looking back at Billy. You grunted, "Asshats" you Whispered. Both the boys looked up at you, "Let her go" Billy Whispered. Stu backed up obeying Billy. Billy got up and left the room, Stu followed. You stared at the door and yelled their names.

No answer. You yelled again and again until your voice grew tired. After what ft like hours Billy walked in.

"Done being a little bitch?"

You nodded, he cut the top letting you free. He gently picked you up out of the bed carrying your tired body out of the room. Stu was in the hall waiting for you, "Is she okay?" He whispered. Billy shrugged carrying you downstairs laying you on the couch. Stu kneeled down to your level.

"Did we go too rough?"

You shook your head, "No, just tired.". Stu nodded before sitting on the couch snuggling you. Billy sat on the other end, his hand placed firmly on your thigh.

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creepswrites · 1 month ago

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hiii! i come here to fulfill my self-indulgent mind,,,, can i get some headcanons of jason, michael ('78) and billy lenz with a (gn) s/o who always asks before kissing them wich ends up in peppering their faces/masks and neck with kisses and sometimes licks their faces out of nowhere bc they're a little bit silly? :-)

ur writing is amazing btw!!! hope ur having a great day, thanks in advance <3

(sorry if my english is weird 🍭)

oughhh yesss omg this is so cute!!!! i hope the emoji was for like. anon tag. bc i did that lol

SLASHERS x GN! READER WHO LICKS & KISSES THEM

JASON VOORHEES

"Jason? May I kiss you?"

He's a little confused why you'd feel the need to ask

His mother taught him when you're in a relationship with someone, kissing is to be expected

But if it's a regular thing for you, he'd find his own way to ask quietly, be it brushing your lip or cheek for your approval for him to kiss you

He, of course, lets you kiss him anytime you ask! He rarely takes his mask off though and is very self conscious of his face :(

Whenever you DO get to pepper his actual face with kisses, he gets nervous about it

He's not sure how you find him attractive so he's much more comfortable with affections when he's masked up

One time you lick the side of his mask and that definitely stuns him for a second

I wouldn't recommend licking him, with how often he goes in the lake or gets blood on his mask but you do you!!

He'd still let you. He loves you, he's far more tolerant of your antics than anyone else's

MICHAEL MYERS

"Michael, could I kiss you?"

Honestly he appreciates you asking. Some days he does say no and you, of course, respect that

Sometimes he'll take his mask off for it, other times he doesn't

He's relatively unresponsive. Sometimes he'll close his eyes and that's as good an indicator as any that he Does feel something about it

He's not a very expressive person

When you lick him though, you get a raised eyebrow for it

He's not like. Affronted by it or anything. It just takes him by surprise!

Honestly? He'd probably show you affection by biting you sometimes in response

Michael is autistic and I'll die on this hill

When you get his guard down enough and get him comfortable, he'll lean into kisses and let you run your fingers through his hair :)

BILLY LENZ

"Hey Billy? Want a kiss?"

Of the three, he's the most accepting of the licking!!

Honestly he probably joins in on that and licks you back

He does, however, shriek and shy away whenever you try to kiss him

It makes him nervous but licking is something he can easily reciprocate

Whenever he says yes to kissing though, you can't help but cover him in them until he's screeching and shoving you away as gently as he can

Like Michael, probably bites you to show affection. He's also way more comfortable kissing you than he is being kissed

Will bite your fingers or nip at your ear or cheek to get attention and babbles whenever you lick him

Probably calls you "kitty" or some variation of that

While he does get shy about the kissing, he's very... enthusiastic. Lots of tongue involved

#🔪 creeps writes #slasher x reader #slasher x s/o #🍭 anon #jason voorhees #jason voorhees x reader #jason voorhees x you #friday the 13th #michael myers #michael myers x reader #michael myers x you #halloween 1978 #billy lenz #billy lenz x reader #billy lenz x you #black christmas 1974

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staarboyyy · 6 months ago

Text

Team building exercise

billy butcher x frenchie x supe!reader | they/them pronouns used

explicit - minors dni

tags / warnings ; reader has vagina, weed use / intoxication, supe reaper, enemies to lovers if you squint, hell yeah for long buildup, threesome, lap sitting, oral [receiving / giving], spitroast, lots of petnames

summary ; As a Supe on the run, joining The Boys can be nerve wracking - Easing up tension is no easy feat.

word count ; 10.1k

a / n ; guess whose back! back again! hiatus break extravaganza, enjoy!

"I don't trust them."

"Of course you don't." Frenchie gave a scoff towards his taller friend, eyeing him dubiously as he perched a lit joint between his lips, arms spread over the top of the couch, thrumming his fingers to the quiet tunes on the shitty television. It was a dreary place to stay, the air always humid and buzzing lights above head a dim shade between green and flickering grays. Butcher's eyes shut, head tilting back as he gave a sharp sigh - Christ, it never gets easier does it? Dealing with the endless amounts of supes cycling into his life. He sucked his teeth, wordlessly gesturing his large hand towards Frenchie, index and middle finger slightly spreading in a silent request. The man complied as he exhaled the soiling smoke, lacing his mouth with a tacky dryness, his throat burning in a familiar way. He couldn't help but let a small smile gently tug up at his lips as Butcher took the joint from the other, lips pursing over the filter and taking a deep inhale. Billows of thick smoke clouded in his chest, the taste earthy and bitter. As it seeped from between his lips he sat up, passing the lit joint back towards Frenchie, who was still gently tapping his fingers on the couch.

"Give me a good reason, why you don't trust them - Hm?"

"Voughts after them already, paints a big red fuckin' target on everyone's ass. Not like we need anymore." Butcher muttered back, followed by a groan as he pinched the bridge of his nose. He wished that weed had worked how it did in the movies, taking a single tiny puff and instantly beginning to giggle, locating the nearest bowl of chips. It took a few minutes, slowly rolling down a hill into the mind numbing sweeping feeling of losing yourself, and being okay with it. Shit. Maybe he was high. He threw a glance to Frenchie, whom had taken to sliding off the couch and kneeling beside the rickety wooden table.

"Sure sure," Frenchie waved his hand dismissivley towards Butcher, not looking to him as he busied himself with packing weed into the small glass bowl from his bong; God only knows how long he's had it, and hadn't managed to break it. As the floorboards creaked from the entrance, both men's heads whipped around quickly to catch the sight of you.

"Speak of the devil," Butcher gave a forced chuckle, eyes darting away almost as quickly as they laid upon you. Frenchie gave a smile towards the you, throwing a slight wave to gesture towards him, that you was allowed to join, if you so wished.

With a stagnating hesitancy, you stepped forward, eyes cast over the rather dreary scene with an internal grimace; It didn't seem like the best hide-away to plan a takedown on Homelander, but in anycase you gave a slight chuckle before speaking. "Hey sorry - Couldn't really find where I was going." It was a fair comment to make, your eyes falling on the two men at fault for their rather lacking instructions on how to find the place.

"Sit sit," Frenchie gestured to the long rickety couch, Butcher taking up most of the space in the left and middle seat, knees wide apart from one another, arms casually wrapped over the couch. His eyelids were heavy, in part of the weed, yet the hanging bruised bags of exhaustion weighing down underneath his eyes was clear as day to anyone. Butcher was tired; Everyone was, including yourself. Frenchie finished packing the bowl, grabbing the neck of the bong as he stood, gently nudging Butcher's foot. He got the memo, leg moving to cross over the other as Frenchie fell back into the worn cushions, patting the space next to him. You sat slowly, leaning back into the well used couch with a slight creak of the springs.

"Don't worry - That's actually a good thing," Frenchie gave a wry wink toward you before leaning forward to set the bong down, while slapping his pockets for a spare lighter. Butcher's eyes seemed to stay shut longer as he blinked, taking small intervals of the rare peace among the hideout. The smell of weed filled the air, T.V. flipped to one of Frenchie's soap operas, half filled water bottles strewning over the floor.

"You smoke?" Butcher breathed out the words in a quiet deep rasp, eyes staying shut as he moved his arms to cross over his torso. Assuming the question was directed to you, you pursed your lips tightly. Butcher was never fond of you - He was as hesitant with you as any other Supe, snide comments and straight up avoidance seemed to be common in the man. You hoped weed would ease him up to the idea of you joining the strange posse he's created - You want the same things, in the end. "Yeah," You admit, eyes reaching towards Butcher's for just a moment. "Sometimes every day," You add, hoping to lighten to mood with a look towards Frenchie.

Frenchie had been decently quick to slap around his pockets for a lighter with a quiet hum, eyes swimming over the ash trays in the room, to see if any had been left. Of course, no lighter in this place would be left unattended, everyone including those who didn't smoke, had sticky fingers to say the least. Butcher cocked his head off to the side, watching how your nervous demeanor was palpable in the air. With no response to you, he inhaled through his nostrils sharply, grunting as he leaned forward to grab at a plainly obvious green lighter near Frenchie's shoes.

"You fucker," Frenchie muttered, swiping the lighter from Butcher, flicking it a few times. The jagged wheel gave a stuttering scrape, producing a sparking flame, catching Frenchie's attention. "Smoking bud is simply just self medication. Some need it every day, some take it only right before bed,"

He trailed off, leaning back into the squeaking couch with the bong and lighter grasped in one hand. He always made the effort to make you atleast half way comfortable here, especially when Butcher's looming presence seemed to take over the air of the room - And you appreciated it, more than he could ever know. With an exhale, Butcher shed his heavy coat from his wide shoulders, letting it drop to the floor with a thick thud of leather on matted carpet. He tended to dawn button downs, not caring for the style or colors, as long as they were comfortable and easy to get on and off; Yet uncharacteristically, he wore a black sweater. It had been colder outside than normal, the icey rain sticking to the ground and making it easy to just prefer to stay inside. He rubbed his long fingers through his tousled hair, knee bumping Frenchie's as a gesture to start to bowl. So quietly, he did. The lighter came over the glass bowl, the grinded weed sizzling as it made contact, a ribbon of grey smoke and heavy aromas sedimented themselves in the air around them. He pulled, for quite a long time, letting the bowl crackle and illuminate itself before pulling it up, inhaling with ease. He held it for a few quiet moments, hand clutching the bong leaning over towards you bowl still singed and smoking.

"Jesus. Don't to pukin' on the carpet, we don't need any more bodily fluids in this place," Butcher spoke, not making it known whether or not he was speaking to Frenchie or You. Maybe both? Frenchie hadn't quite cared too much for the mans remark, exhaling the smoke in a thick billow, humming at the sight of it. The process of smoking had been so cathartic.

You took the bong graciously, nodding at the other in a silent thanks before pressing your lips to the mouth of the bong. You rested there for a moment, the smoke tinging your nostrils as it slithered up in snaking tendrils from the bowl, before inhaling graciously. The burn hit your throat tenderly, sliding down you in a wash of warmth, pooling with a familar soreness in your chest. As you exhaled the smoke, you could feel both mens eyes on you, and how your attention followed the plume of grey. After a tight draw of fresh air, a slight cough creeped over you, tickling your throat before parting your lips.

Butcher's gaze was still fixated on you, watching you cough lightly with a quizzical eye, leaning back into the couch with another creaky audible squeak. The silence was tense, yet the wringing feeling of the weed slowly veiling over the surrounding air, the ribbons toiling in the light of the buzzing lights, had begun to melt it away. Butcher relaxed his shoulders, head cocking off to the side as he swallowed thickly. If there was any way to get through to see the end of whatever this team needed to do, it’d be to bite his tongue and start acting like - What did M.M. say? A team player. Butcher scoffed.

“So - ,” Butcher trailed off in a nearly dubious tone, as if not convinced he even knew your real name. “You break easy?” He asked, causing Frenchie’s head to turn, eyebrows furrowing slightly before giving a wry grin - Butcher waved his hand. That came out wrong. The weed had pulled a sheen of dizziness on the demeanor he so effortlessly wanted to use to his advantage. Scare you off, make you see the light and how awful the world is, yata yata. God, his mouth was dry. Butcher clenched his jaw, eyes casting off towards the table with a suck of his teeth. “Tough skin? You’ve been in battle before?” He went on after a few moments of practicing the words in his mind, weaving them together despite the foggy feeling. Frenchie shook his head, chuckling quietly as he looked towards you, expression reading halfway sympathetic but unable to keep the bubbling laughs from rising past his lips.

“He’s an idiot. Ignore him,” As much as Butcher wanted to retort against Frenchie’s words, he simply rolled his eyes, leaning over the couch to grab at the neck of a whiskey bottle he had opened a few minutes ago. He put his lips to the mouth of the bottle, drinking the bitter liquor with a burning exhale pushing from his nostrils. It trailed a thick searing sting down his throat, to his stomach, almost grounding him from the effects of the weed - He hadn’t noticed he’d begun staring at you until he had to force his eyes to part ways with your flushed cheeks as you spoke.

"Oh - Yeah, my fair share. Nothing serious." You didn't want to go on at first, though the pressing tension in the air pushed an answer from your drying throat. "If you count run-ins with the FBI "Nothing serious", I mean." Slowly, you extended your arm across Frenchie, handing the bong off towards Butcher.

At this, he simply cocked his head. Of course, he didn't want to outright call bullshit yet his expression twisted into one that needed no words. As you handed the bong off towards him though, he took in a breath to speak, his rough skin pressing over your fingers. The transaction was simple, yet the lingering feeling of the you on his larger hand left him to shift in his seat slightly. It was hard to be his typical dark demeanor with the clashing mix of weed and exhaustion from the day prior; He sucked his teeth, pulling the bong close as he leaned forward to grab the lighter from the table.

"Alright, and lets say you've had these little "run-ins" - We don't even know your power for gods sake, so..." The man trailed off, eyes falling to the bong as he pressed his lips to the mouth piece, flicking the lighter over the bowl and taking a sharp inhale. Butcher didn't smoke weed as much as Frenchie did, preferring the casual ciggarette or even cigar, yet he handled the hits well. As he exhaled a thick billow of smoke, he offered it towards Frenchie, whose eyes were wide and glued to you, lips tilted up into a small smile.

"FBI? Ohhoh," He elbowed Butcher slightly, who in turn grunted, shoving the bong once more towards the other. Frenchie grabbed the neck of it, still grinning as he spoke, eyebrows furrowing slightly. "You mean it? Vraiment incroyable," He whispered, the veins of his eyes contrasting sharply to his dark irises and heavy lids, lashes laid thick. Frenchie shifted his weight slightly, facing towards the you with a throaty chuckle.

"And to think Butcher could ever doubt you, hey?" Frenchie brought his hand to your cheek, pinching at the apple of it slightly, humming as his eyes flickered over the your expression. His pupils were large, blown out from the dim light above and perhaps a mixture of some other drug he was able to scrape together. He wet his lips after a moment, swallowing harshly as Butcher cleared his throat.

"If they've been up against the FBI - I'm the fucking queen of England, how 'bout that?" The man spoke like a frustrated child, setting the bong onto the table with a low thud. It only egged Frenchie on, grinning a bit - He knew what that tone meant, yet knowing you would be oblivious to Butcher's unpredictable and strange jealousy made him chuckle wryly. How far could he push such a thing? He wondered.

"You ever shotgunned?"

Frenchie spoke casually, arm thrown over the edges of the couch as he tilted his chin down towards you. His eyes were wild, yet warm as he tilted his head, chewing his bottom lip for a moment. A tinge of embarrassment caught you as Butcher's words mingled in the smokey air, though Frenchie's quickly threw you for a loop, your gaze swimming through the room to find his.

"Shit probably... Not in a long time, but uh," You could feel your cheeks lighting up, the mirroring satisfaction of Frenchie's expression growing slowly.

"Christ you're high as a fucking kite, aren'you?" Butcher scoffed out a quiet chuckle, sharp through his nostrils, eyes wandering towards the space beside him on the worn in sofa. Frenchie's heavy eyes didn't move from yours, clicking his tounge and squinting slightly as he spoke.

"When am I not," He breathed the words out quietly, voice rasping through a playful purr. Butcher pursed his lips, head cocking off to the side slightly as he watched the you two - Frenchie moved like a snake, slowly and skillfully etching his arm over the edge of the couch and leaning his face close towards yours, his eyes doey and glittering with a familiar spark of thrilling measures. It was always the chase for the French man, wasn't it. Butcher wiped his thumb under his nose, fingernails rolling through the scruff on his chin, before moving to roll up the sleeves of his sweater. His forearms were built, bulking through the sweater sleeves and veins seemed to cross the bronze skin like streams and rivers on a map. Scars etched themselves onto him, weaving between his beauty marks and various bruises - His arms were a story within themselves, faded stick and pokes from years ago still demanded to be seen, despite his many attempts to do the opposite. Butcher leaned forward once more, wordlessly grabbing the bong.

"You're on the run from the FBI, and Vought - Ain't that just fuckin' peachy." His voice was cold, yet he let his shoulders relax slightly, his body shifting towards Frenchie with an audible creak of the sofa. Both men now sat closer to you than before, Frenchie's long fingers now stringing gently through your hair; While this wasn't out of character for the affectionate man, usually nobody would allow him to do so - He seemed quite pleased that you didn't protest against his warm touch.

"When was the last, hm?" Frenchie spoke, as if Butcher's words had hardly reached him. He used his free hand to gently scratch over the growing stubble on his hardened jaw line, eyes unwavering as a teasing grin snaked onto his calm expression. As he spoke, Butcher stayed silent, elbows leaned forward onto his knees - He looked at you like he was studying something, as if the weed made you all the more interesting. Yet it wasn't in the sense that Frenchie had, the glittering sense of warmth fleeting his sharp pointed gaze entirely; It was darker, nearly predatory, pinning you down to the couch with a simple lull of his eyes falling down your body - Agonizingly slowly.

"A couple of years - I uh," Usually you would have something to follow up the answer, a witty comment to lighten the now thickening air, but the weed now dripped over your shoulders. It was warm, the pillowing strength of the high tensing your muscles, and wavering your heavy eyelids.

"That so?"

Butcher spoke up before Frenchie could even catch his breath to answer. His fingers paused for a moment, still continuing to slowly string through your hair, but instead resting his nails on your scalp, scratching gently. Frenchie finally cast his gaze towards Butcher, whose expression was that of - Well nothing. Nothing out of the ordinary; Besides how he now assumed the position of letting his back relax against the couch, legs opening further as he cocked his head towards you, who had now grown awfully close to Frenchie. Nothing was said for a few moments, perhaps nothing needed to be spoken between both Frenchie and Butcher, yet the taste of the air seemed to shift for the men. Frenchie's eyesbrows settled as he watched Butcher return to his natural position, head tilting back slightly to coerce you two to come closer.

"C'mon then."

Butcher's voice on the other hand, had shifted to something different. The underlying rumble of how he clearly was not just suggesting you both follow his simple order, his thick accent weaving between his words, rolling off the tongue with a following billow of smoke; It was a demand. A devilish one at that, how he spread his large arms over the couches edge and squared his heavy shoulders.

Frenchie's gaze on the other rolled in waves, moving towards you once more; Although gentler than Butcher's had been, it was no less devious than the brit who now so casually began to pack a fresh bowl. It still stung with a sultry glaze of darkness, peering at you through thick lashes as his hand moved from your hair, down to your warm cheek. His thumb pressed gently into the soft skin, letting the pad of his finger trace ever so slowly down towards your jaw, eyes settling on your lips, for just a few brief moments. Your body had stiffened, a pooling warmth in your abdomen now fighting with the foggy feeling pulsating in your head.

Frenchie seemed to smile at this, almost entertained in the way you seemed to stiffen, watching the apples of your cheeks bloom a sheer pink. The man wet his lips, the feeling of Butcher's eyes burning into his back as he dropped his hand to grab at yours gently. It was soft, the calloused pads of his fingers gently cascading over your palm, pulling the smaller fingers to clasp with his own. He looked at how you fit together, the thrumming of his heart gently pushing against his ribs - The familiarness of it all made his lips twist into a small smile, eyebrows knitting together as his gaze flickered to yours once more. He lifted your tangled fingers, pressing his lips to the back of the your palm. His facial hair rubbed against your skin, his firm yet gentle grasp unwavering as he kept his eyes on you, as if his universe would collapse if he looked away. Carefully, he spoke.

"Would you mind if," Frenchie's voice was soft, coming in waves between soft kisses against your hand, still held by his own. "We remind you of such pleasures?" The question was vague, yet the knowing tilt of Frenchie's head gave way for the wry smirk. "Of smoking. Of course,"

Butcher looked onto this with pure interest, oddly enough enraptured by the way Frenchie seemed to snake himself around you. He moved his attention back to your expression after a few moments, catching your line of sight and giving a twitch of his eyebrow. His mind was racing, surely you were both in on it Of course. It, being something only occurring with the messily done up mix of weed and - Stress? Something like that. Butcher didn't care at this point, already shifting the weight of his thighs onto the couch, the friction of his thick jeans nearly rattling a sense of shame down his spine. Though, it was not nearly enough to overtake the sudden dryness of his mouth, how his heart now pounded in his ears, lips hanging open slightly as he wordlessly looked over at you and Frenchie. Your whisper was fragile, fixated on the man as your voice escaped your hold on rationalizing yourself.

"Yes..."

At the single word, Frenchie slowly lowered your hand, humming to himself quietly before brushing his thumb once more over your cheek. It was gentle, eyes glinting with a sense of warmth - Yet it seemed to slip away, slowly at first, then as he cast his eyes back towards your lips, it had fleet his expression entirely. With a slow movement, he guided your jaw with his hand, bringing you closer towards Butcher - You were now sitting between the two. The air was still, clouded with passing smoke and dust, yet the sound of all of you sucking in short gasps of air from clenched teeth had seemed to swim from ear to ear. The shift in Butcher's position was heard with a creak of the couch; He turned himself more towards you, his left arm resting on the edge of the couch and the other clutching the neck of the bong. His large thighs spread, the thick black denim not leaving too much for the imagination. Butchers eyes moved from you, to his lap, then back again. It was a wordless offer, one he had seemed to give many people, just from how casual it was. Yet on the inside, he could feel how painfully tight he clenched his jaw, practically white knuckling the bong as he tried for a casual shift of his weight.

Frenchie, had seemed enamored by the way Butcher moved. As much as Frenchie was a snake, Butcher was a lion. Predator by nature, moving silently and demanding with a simple flick of his eyes - He darkened the rooms he walked into, making peoples shoulders tense at the mention of his name. Butcher let a slow exhale reach him, jaw relaxing as he went to speak, eyes unmoving.

"Let me show you the proper way, hm?"

Though the man roused a question with this, it was clear it had been practiced on his tongue, having thought about this for quite some time. His voice was gravely, the prior smoking only adding to the rumbling purr of his ribboning words. He lifted his chin slightly - Smug bastard. Butcher clearly knew he had a strange advantage over quite a few people. The primal one, the one that seemed to click into place as soon as he began barking orders.

How you were breathing was a mystery. You moved with such ease under Frenchie's hand, under the thickening daze of his touch and the way Butcher was looking at you. That alone sent your heart pounding and face lit up with a scarlet flush. It had been a while since you felt so small, and allowed yourself to be told what to do and when. The thought terrified you, sending pins through your nerves, telling you to run. The weed, that was it, not the way you found yourself feeling so relaxed between the two men. No, it was definitely the weed.

You found yourself on Butchers lap, legs straddled across the man's bulk. Your eyes latched to Butcher's with ease, studying every small color detail you could find in him much like you had the French man's.

Butcher's eyes were hardened, locked onto yours with a piercing gaze - It was nothing short of devious, the delicious veil of smoke and pupil blown out lust becoming clearer on the mans expression as you lowered yourself onto his lap. His large free hand swept over the air as soon as you sat, rough palm meeting your waist. His thumb drew slow arc over your skin, eyes lowering over your body - He couldnt express the feeling that seemed to sear itself into his stomach, forcing his back to arch ever so slightly. A low exhale rumbled from between his parted lips, nearly in approval of how you now nervously shifted your weight, ever so deliciously. He watched your movements with a silent cold gaze, eyes tracking every one of your sharp breaths.

Frenchie watched with heavy lidded eyes, head leaning against the couch as he looked at you both - It was something out of a painting. Celestial in how the two seemed to fit together perfectly; Not to mention he couldn't get enough of your sheepish expression. Frenchie wet his lips, fingers moving to quietly fumble with the button and belt of his loose cargo pants. It was feeble and rushed, jaw clenching as a wash of heat rolled down his body, centering itself between his thighs. He shifted his weight, eyes not leaving Butcher as the man brought the now lit bong to his lips.

The brit's eyes stayed in place, locked onto your twitching frame as he pulled a deep inhale from the glass. With a slow movement, his eyes moved in time with his free hand, shifting from your body towards his your. His rough fingerpads rubbed against you, holding your face firmly - His thumb moved though, as he drew the bong from his parted lips, the rough thumb pulled your bottom lip down slowly. The action was small, caressing your soft lip to expose the slight opening of your mouth. Butcher set the bong off to the side, eyes flicking between your eyes, and your lips. After a moment, smoke drifted from his nostrils, the sting reminding him he couldn't simply sit and admire you. Despite his aching urge to do just that. He'd sit and watch you for hours, atop his lap and nervously shifting your weight. Butcher pulled your jaw foward, parted lips meeting yours - The smoke flowed between his teeth, pushing from his mouth into the yours, as a low throaty groan pressed from his throat. It was primal, instinctual in the way he dropped his hand from your face, returning to your hip. His grasp was much less gentle than it had been, now tugging your down. A silent demand - He wanted your full weight. For you to surrender entirely to him.

Butcher was a strange man. That was the only thought circulating through your speeding mind. You couldn't figure out why he stared so much, you couldn't place the reason Butcher had such an expression when looking at you or why his actions made you feel the way you did. Such a thing excited you. It sent a heat spreading through you that got more intense when Butcher touched you, each glide of his rough hands sending shivers up your spine.

When Butcher leaned in, you had as well, just barely. You wanted Butcher to lead this dance, to show you how this was to be done. And so far it was unrevealing you from the core. The closer they got the more your eyes closed, barely letting past a gasp pass as you sucked in the smoke. When you exhaled, you pulled away just slightly, eyes opening as you blew out the smoke, staring into Butcher's with a fire, a hunger.

"That's more like it, darlin'."

Butcher's voice was hardly audible, a slow purr, tasting the honorific as it slipped off his tongue. The last of the smoke pushed between his teeth as he pulled your weight into his own, lips clashing with yours. He gave a quiet grunt, drawn out and pleased; His facial hair pressed into your skin, the hand on your face slipping agonizingly slow over your body. He savored every twitch and gasp he was able to, his thick cock pressing into your warmth - It was driven in pure ecstacy.

Frenchie had managed to pry off his jeans, hand settling over his clothed length with a contended sigh; His eyes stayed on you and Butcher as you kissed, his fingers moving and caressing himself as you moved in sync. He wanted nothing more than to drink down the scene before him, a soft moan pulled from his throat as his breath hitched. He twitched in his hand, mouth practically watering as he watched Butcher grope you with such fierceness.

It wasn't careless or rushed, how Butcher's large calloused hands seem to linger on your lower back, snaking towards your torso - His fingers tucked underneath your shirt as his tongue swept over your lip, panting slightly into the kiss. Your skin was heavenly, smooth and soft - The touch of it alone made him groan quietly, bucking his hips up slightly as his hand continued exploring your body.

Frenchie let a moan roll from him, a slow drawn out whimper as he watched them; He brought his hand to his mouth, saliva gathering from the mere image of you leaning into Butcher entirely. Frenchie dragged his tongue over his palm, hips subconsciously bucking simply at the anticipation of it all. He brought his hand back down, shifting closer to the you two as he stroked himself - The sounds he made was obscene. Low pleasured purrs interlacing with sharp gasps, hand gripped tightly around his twitching cock. His eyes drifted along your body, undressing you with his heavy gaze.

Frenchie had thought about you before - In a situation like this. It came to him as he touched himself the same way he did now; His mind wandering and landing onto you with a sinister intent. Frenchie came just from the idea of using his mouth on you. The memory made him twitch in his hand, a shuddered groan breaking with a desperate whimper.

Butcher's hands seemed to chase up the skin of your body, his rough fingers meeting your chest with a sharp inhale. The noise that came from him was nothing short of animalistic, his palms laying over your body, groping needily - He rocked into your body, hips moving in slow circles as he throbbed for the you, the perfect weight on top of him. Butcher leaned his forehead on yours, breathing hard before speaking.

"You want to have a smart mouth with me - Hm?"

Butcher's voice thundered in a low primal tone, dark eyes casting into yours. He took a slow inhale, head slowly tilting back with a devilish chuckle. The sound of it reverberated, shattering the lustful haze that seemed to settle in the space between you all. It was a filthy sound, one of his hands moving up your back, his large fingers entangling into the locks of your hair. He didn't pull, yet held onto you firmly, with a slight smirk.

Frenchie's parted lips formed into a hazed lopsided smile as he beckoned you towards him - It was how must Eve had to feel in the garden. The stomach stirring temptation that came simply from the idea of taking the hand of the serpent; His canines glinted as his head tilted slightly, tongue moving to wet his lips before speaking. Frenchie's voice was nothing short of sinful, how his eyes moved over your body, a hand still loosely hung around his twitching cock; In truth the forbidden fruit didn't taste like an apple, nor did it even taste sweet. It tasted like sweat, like the breath being pulled from your lungs, a forceful hand around your throat. Suffocatingly pleasurable, the truthful definition of what it means to not just give into temptation, but to drink it down in hitched breaths - To lick it from knives, from fingers of men that seemed intent on breaking you beyond repair.

"How do you feel, darling?" Frenchie whispered.

"S..So good," You admitted, cheeks flushed at feeling so exposed to the men before you. The sound of your voice was heavenly, a low whisper of approval - It feels good. Butcher gave another quiet groan at the slight praise, shifting underneath you, arching his back into your heat.

Frenchie hummed quietly, mewling as he also heard your voice - Slowly the man stood, pacing over to stand behind you two, hands moving to snake around your torso. His fingers were rougher than Butchers, callouses and scars blooming over his hands; Each one told a story of course, all the cuts and bruises left with the aftertaste of copper, licking his own wounds. Frenchie let his lips dip down towards your neck, hands gently squeezing your hips with a soft hitch of his breath. His tongue slid over your skin with a pleased groan, deep and slow, a predator giving the prey a taste of what was truly to come. His teeth bit down, his fingers tightening slight on your skin; A snake constricting around a mouse while the lion below you sat and watched - You felt helpless, breathless, though Frenchie couldn't help but chuckle sardonically into your flesh, beside your ear as he whispered quietly.

"Petite souris," His breath was hot, teeth grazing over the shell of your ear, his hands moving to grip the hem of your shirt, pulling up slightly with a wry chuckle. "Don't hide from us."

As Frenchie pulled the shirt away, the men both took in a slow gasp. Both of their sets of hands paused on your body simultaneously - You was a sight to behold. Butcher's eyes softened, hand sliding up from your stomach to your chest. He slid his palm over the soft skin that now pulsed with your erratic heart, eyes not leaving you as his lips parted to speak.

"You're fucking perfect." Butcher didn't just utter the words in a sultry whisper for you to hear; It was akin to a prayer, something pulled from his mind and forced to speak - Is this what religion felt like? To gaze upon someone and feel the heart pounding, head spinning way he did now? You squirmed above Butcher, biting your lower lip slightly upon hearing the praise, the air of the room peaking your nipples slightly.

Frenchie's hands explored lower, lips pressing soft kisses to your shoulder as his fingers caught the belt loops of your jeans, tugging a bit. Greedy, he was; Yet every fiber of his being cried out to have his skin pressed against not just yours, but Butcher's as well. It truly was heavenly, how you three seemed to melt into one another with no refute or hesitation - One of Frenchie's hands slid up your chest as well, moving over your throat and to your jaw, tilting your head back to meet his gaze. His expression was gentler than before, the underlying darkness fizzling away like a fire in a storm. Frenchie leaned in slowly, lips pressing to yours with a pleased hum, bordering on a whimper.

You leaned into the others warm touches, gasping slightly as you lifted your hands to cup Frenchie's face with a corresponding fervor. He purred into the gentle kiss, free hand still on your jeans as he let himself melt into the feeling of your back pressed against him. He tilted his face, hot breath and tongue working in waves over your lower lip before letting his teeth gently tug on it - It was soft, yet a silent reminder. He didn't have to speak for you to feel how he admired you, how he did not just see you as sexy, but perfect. Ethereal how your body felt underneath his hands, how your soft groans gently reverberated against his lips, only making him hunger for more.

Butcher watched you two, leaning back from you to take in the sight with a low hum - His hands though, were not as kind as he seemed to be, looking at you and Frenchie with nothing but sheer adoration. Yet how his large palms now kneaded your skin, his fingers reaching lower - Lower; You could swear you could feel your heart slamming against your ribs as his index finger pushed past your waist band. A primal rumbling moan etched through his throat, his expression creasing upon feeling the shift of heat from the simple motion alone. As the groan pushed into the obscene hazy air, he leaned back more, now pressing his stiff clothed cock against you - It wasn't intentional, how he rocked against your body with fleeting desperation and filthy carnal desire; Yet his head tilted back, cursing in a deep whisper to himself - The exact opposite of a prayer, he thought. How his mind seemed to race with images of you presenting yourself to him, breathing hard and eyebrows furrowed, sweat glazing his face.

"Fucck - That's it love, just like that," Butcher kept you pulled down to his lap with fingers hooked tight on your waistband, still rocking with low contented sighs, his eyebrows knitting together slightly.

”That's it, doll.”

Frenchie’s voice was hot against your lips, eyebrows furrowing as his tongue pressed to yours - It was euphoric, the heavy breathing causing the French man’s head to spin. His hands moved down from your jaw, his large hand clasping over your throat, squeezing in the sides with a slow progression. He could feel your rushing blood underneath his rough fingers, and he bared a smile into the kiss, pulling away slowly with the tilt of his sharp jaw. He chuckled darkly, the sound contrasting his quiet whimpers and praise.

”Diable doux; You’re not as innocent as you look, hm?" A brief, tight squeeze came to your throat. Frenchie grinned wickedly at this, the feeling of power, how you gave a sharp gasp before he released it. He kept his large hand loosely around your neck as he gave a wry wink towards Butcher. Another strange silent agreement, one that didn’t need words - Perhaps it never did. Butcher moved quickly, strong arms tucking themselves underneath your shoulders, standing to his feet with a low grunt, exhaling sharply. He turned you in his grasp like a ragdoll, snickering quietly at the notion of how suprised you were; One of his arms now supported underneath your knees, the other holding your back - Bridal style.

“You wanna see what happens to a tease like you?”

Butcher didn’t even give you a second glance after asking, sucking a sharp breath through his teeth with a slight shake of his head. The two men walked together in sync, Frenchies hand extending towards your face, brushing the whisps of hair from your face.

The door to the rickety guest room opened with a harsh creak, slamming into the wall beside it before you were tossed onto the springy mattress. Butcher panted hard, large shoulders rising and falling as he stood at the foot of the bed beside Frenchie; A beat meets you all. A moment of silent clarity, the lustful clouds seeming to fade as Butcher parted his lips, looking down at you with a hungry expression.

“Just give us the word, yeah?” You took a slow breath, propped up on your shoulder as your pulse thickening in your ears, temples ringing with the unfamiliar thrill of being so easily tossed around despite your strength. You swallowed, eyes moving between the two before speaking with a slight nod.

"Yes.. Show me,"

This was all Butcher needed - Just the slight nudge that you were willing to give him was enough, more than enough. He moved quickly, large hands essentially ripping the loose jeans from your waist. He wanted to tease, to play the dancing game of making you beg for it - Yet he knew he wouldn’t be able to resist. Butcher’s large fingers moved to rub over your underwear, sliding down your thigh; Of course, he could still tease through his teeth gritting need for pleasure. Frenchie had pulled his shirt over his head, his muscular arms flexing, coated, and painted in scars and fading stick and poke tattoos. He stretched his arms over his head, neck cracking as he leaned it back and forth. The French man gave a pleased purr from this, sighing between his teeth as he watched Butcher kneel at the foot of the bed. He had hooked his arms under your legs, pulling them effortlessly to tuck over his large shoulders. Butcher gave a quiet shudder from this alone, his fingers tracing down the fabric of your underwear; He could see you twitch just from this, prying a smile to pierce his intent gaze. His index finger drew towards your growing heat, letting the textured pad press over the hardened space between your quivering legs. He slowly moved, tantalizingly taking in your slight reactions to the shifting weight of his finger against your sensitive clit; He drank down your reactions with a low satisfied hum, chuckling darkly with a throaty tone, more like a growl than anything else.

“Wonder how wet they are just from sitting on my cock, hm?” Butcher let his gaze lazily move towards Frenchie, who now moved to get on the springy bed, wearing his boxers and striped ankle socks. He wet his lips, peering down at you, his large fingers weaving through your hair - The motion was loving, contrasting how Butcher now used his other hand to gently press at your clothed entrance. To say it was warm would be offensive; It was searing, the cotton damp, your arousal seeping through the fabric as Butcher tutted.

“Oh - Baby; You really need it bad, don’t you?” The brit’s tone was playful, just mocking enough for Frenchie to join in on the soft teasing.

“Poor thing, sweet little devil,” The man continued to slip his fingers through your hair, brushing it away from your face before letting his digits tangle in the wefts - He tugged gently, biting his lip as he used one of his hands to pin down your shoulders. Butcher leaned in, his rough palms sweeping down your thighs as he let his lips push onto your soft clit, his tongue darting out just enough to soak the space of fabric. His tongue was smooth, working over the spot with deep breaths; He couldn’t even taste you yet, but you knew that Butcher was yours. The man's fingers tightened around your legs, keeping them tucked over his shoulders as he felt you begin to buck into his movements.

Your underwear was stripped quickly down your legs, Butcher keeping his eyes on your body - The prospect of more and more flesh being revealed to him was enough to make one of his hands drop to his still aching cock, demanding his attention as the underwearfell to the ground. Butcher leaned in as he palmed himself, lips and facial hair sliding over your thighs as he shuddered, taking in the sight of your exposed body. He messily undid his belt as he let his teeth gently sink into your skin, groaning at the soft warmth. You gasped in turn, eyes swimming up to meet Frenchie's, a nearly sheepish expression tracing your face. Butcher's free hand moved to your clit, gently pulling the hood back before rolling his tongue over the sensitive nub. He took in a slow breath, savoring the taste and feeling of you in his mouth as his fingers now gripped his own cock, moaning into your heat. As much as the man wanted to hold back for your sake, he found it impossible, his mouth sinking over your dripping cunt with a low growl - Like a starved animal devouring a meal. The vibrations of his rumbling sounds gently reverberated against your clit, his tongue working in slow circles around it as his thick fingers came to rub against your entrance. The feeling of how wet you had become made him almost smug with pleasure, chuckling quietly to himself as his middle finger slowly began to sink in. It wasn't anywhere near the width of your own - It stretched you deliciously, the small bend of the digit pulling upwards into your cunt, coaxing any moans and sharp gasps he could from you. Your fingertips tingled, biting your lip harshly as the sensation of Butcher's smooth tongue contrasted to the rough tickle of his facial hair. You gave a quiet gasp as he sunk into you, his finger reaching the depths you were never able to by yourself, rocking slowly back and forth now. Frenchie watched wickedly, one hand moving to intertwine his fingers with yours, how he had done on the couch only an hour or so prior. His voice came in a slow purring wave, still using his other hand to string through your hair.

"That's it, Mon cher."

Butcher pressed his face hungrily to your cunt, now using his mouth more feverently, thick fingers still rolling in and out with obscene noises. His beard beaded with your arousal, his heavy lidded eyes sweeping up to catch your gaze. His eyes were soft, yet completely and entirely sure of what he wanted. Upon seeing you, Butcher didn’t slow down; in fact, he bent his finger ever so slowly, moaning at the feeling of your heat clenching obscenely around his digit. As he drew his soaked finger from you, he pulled it to his mouth, dragging it over his tongue, coating his middle finger with a dripping mix of saliva and your arousal. He pressed both of them to the other, beads of slick tangled in his beard, as he breathed raggedly - He wasn't finished; in truth, he had hardly even begun. Butcher rocked his own hips into his hand, taking in slow, drawn-out gasps as he slid his fingers in slowly. He took his time, drinking down your shifting expressions and soft moans, only propelling his need to make you his. Entirely, and absolutely. His fingers were thick, curving at the second knuckle, pressing his fingertips against your searing slick walls with a shuddered groan.

“Fuck, baby - Look at the mess you’re making,”

It was true; Your glossy arousal dripped down towards Butcher’s wrist now, his sweater sleeve rolled over his muscular arms, veins bulging as he rocked his fingers in and out of you. He enjoyed this, reveled in this feeling of watching you shake around him, legs trembling as he chuckled quietly - This would be fun. Your breathing quickened, hands desperately grabbing at any stability nearby with a tight grasp.

Frenchie was gentle with his movements as he held your flushed face now. He didn’t mind the harsh clenching of your fist now on his leg in the slightest; Perhaps you could feel just how much that power made him ache for you so hungrily. As your face became level with Frenchie’s thighs, boxers leaving little to the imagination, Butcher had taken ahold of your waist. It seemed both men were finished playing games. As you were now on all fours before the two, Butcher’s hand slowly extended, large palm meeting the small of your back and pressing down ever so slowly. Just enough until he was satisfied with the arch - Perfect to use you, Butcher’s hands on your waist as he forces you back into his hips; His mind raced nearly as fast as his heart did. As he lifted his hand, he gave a short sigh before letting it hit crack down against your ass. The sound the contact made was delicious, but the sound you made was something otherworldly entirely. He gave your soft skin a squeeze, soothing the now raising hand print with a satisfied bite of his bottom lip - He couldn’t fall off track, though. He needed this. Butcher’s hands grasped at your thighs as he returned his tongue back to your clit, taking it into his mouth greedily.

Frenchie strung his fingers through your hair as he watched the clashing mix of pleasure and pain seem to cause an onslaught of different expressions. He let a slow pleased purr leave him as he cocked his head, looking down at you. Frenchie had always looked at you with warmth, even when watching Butcher overstimulate you - Yet now, it was something else. No smile, full lips parted as he pulled in ragged breaths, as if the sight of you alone, so close to him, was enough to take his breath entirely.

“Let me show you, souris.”

He spoke as he drew one of his large hands from your hair, moving to slide over his boxers, the friction causing his hips to hitch forward - He was desperate, yet seemed to think he hid it well. He didn’t. The stain of precum on the fabric was evidence enough. You breathed hard, gasps and soft yelps passing your parted lips as you kept the contact of Frenchie's pointed gaze. Butcher was ravenous, your thighs shaking and beading with sweat as your body ground against the man's tongue desperately.

"B-Butcher... Oh fuck," You managed to gasp out of the words as your eyes squeezed shut, Butcher's tongue lashing at your clit feverently. Upon hearing Butcher's name uttered in such a desperate whimper made the man sing; He hummed, a sound emanating from the back of his throat, pushed up from his chest in a deep pleased purr. His fingers continued the motion, not wanting to push the you too hard, but still keeping a consistent pace - Just enough to make you squirm, just enough to make your knees shake. Butcher's tongue continued, unwavering as he matched the pace of his fingers; He was cruel, to say the least, yet the mewls and passing whimpers he managed to pull from you, only egged him on.

"I know, I know,"

Frenchie smiled sadistically down towards you, thumb stringing through your hair with a quiet hum. It was almost mocking, his words comforting yet laced with a teasingly playful chuckle. It was sweet watching you writhe like this - It reminded him of himself the first time with Butcher. He couldn't wait to see your reaction to be taken so ruthlessly. The thought made him twitch, arching his back almost instinctively as he kept his dim eyes on you, speaking quietly.

"You make so much noise, huh? Let's fix that,"

Frenchie sighed quietly, other hand moving to wrap over the base of his cock - He looked down at you for a moment, hand slowly moving over his length with hazy eyes; He had thought countless times about this, looking down at you on your knees with a flustered expression, tentatively using your mouth and listening to Frenchie's orders. He could see the hunger to please, down deep in your now teary eyes; Frenchie moved your head downwards, silently guiding you with a bite of his bottom lip. He exhaled sharply as your lips met the sensitive tip of his cock, beading with glossy precum - As much as he wanted to force himself into the your mouth, he held back. He enjoyed the slow movements, gentle caresses and hitching breaths, even as you trembled with flushed cheeks, clearly reaching a level of intense desperation.

"Start slow, open that pretty mouth,"

As Frenchie spoke, his hand slid from your hair, down to your jaw. He clutched it firmly, yet his thumb moved gently over your cheekbone, working towards your bottom lip. He rolled the pad of his thumb over the gathering drool on your lips, a silent request to enter - As you complied, Frenchie's thumb slid into your mouth, slowly rolling over your tongue with a shuddered exhale. You could never know just how badly he needed this. You moved slowly, still dazed, your eyes glossy as you looked up to Frenchie, and when your lips finally met the man's cock you felt the heavy veil of euphoria roll over your shoulders, the need to please, to obey. As you opened your mouth, your hot breath rose goosebumps on Frenchie's neck, who now took short sharp inhales, only able to focus on the feeling of you. You were so close, and as your tongue began to gently press against the base of him, he couldn't help but let a whimper surpass his lips. With that sound, you sunk slowly around him, tongue slowly guiding his twitching cock deeper into your velvety mouth.

Frenchie sucked his teeth, hissing a sharp breath - Despite the harsh noise his fingers still threaded through your hair gently. He wouldn't push you, he knew this feeling would just get more electric, gradually teased by your movements. His cock pulsed at the motion, a glaze of sweat already glinting at his temples, eyes rolling back to slide shut in euphoric anticipation. He couldn't get too excited, taking in the sight of you was too much at once, instead just allowing the feeling of your soft tongue to numb his senses. His fingers shook in your hair, thighs twitching as he bit back to urge to stutter his hips forward into the welcoming heat of your mouth.

"Oui..."

Butcher continued the assault on your exposed body, tongue messily lapping at your clit, swallowing down anything you were willing to give with a greed of a starved animal. His cock was aching at the feeling of you around his fingers, the resistance fighting against his quickening thrusts as he moaned quietly. The sound alone was obscene, flesh against flesh, shuddering gasps and growing moans escalating as the seconds passed by at a mind spinning rate. Butcher slowly drew his fingers and mouth away, working at his cock with his palm, now soaked in your arousal. Butcher slid his tongue over and between his fingers, refusing to let any go to waste as he lined up his thick cock to your desperate entrance.

"I won't lie to you," Butcher murmured the words, the tip of his cock slipping over your sensitive clit, teasing your entrance with a pleased hum. "It's gonna be a tight fuckin' fit."

There wasn't a beat missed, the slow burning sensation of being stretched open grasping wrecklessly at your senses, the electric basis of it forcing Butcher's body to crave more. He sunk in slowly, a growl reverberating from his chest in a deep wave of pleasure; You were a vice around him, only halfway inside you and Butcher's head was filled with the sound of his rushing heartbeat, biting his lower lip harshly.

"That's right, love - Doing so fucking good for us,"

You felt the warmth of Frenchie's cock invade your mouth, his hips twitching with restraint. Your throat began to tense against the intrusion, the sensation of forbidden pleasure flooded your veins; You wanted to believe it was the weed, the way your movements slowed as you now felt your own hips rocking, the sound of Butcher's voice a lush cacoon, coddling your sweat glazed frame with calloused hands. You felt the tip of his cock tease your swollen clit, the promise of a tight fit making your body quiver. The first thrust was a shockwave, pulsing through your body - He was telling the truth. You moaned loudly, a guttural sound that was cut off by Frenchie's cock hitching at the sudden vibration. The sensation was overwhelming, yet both men groaning in unison was a symphony. Your body lit ablaze, firing off soft gasps and muffled yelps. Butcher's low growl and praise sent waves of head spinning need through your body, your pussy greedily taking all he had to offer, grinding yourself against his thighs.

"Someone's eager, aye?"

Butcher chuckled darkly, letting the sound fall into a deep groan. The sounds of your hips rocking against Butcher's thrusts filled the room, the wet slapping of skin against skin accentuating the symphony of your shared pleasure - You let out a muffled whimper, your mouth full of Frenchie's cock, your throat working to accommodate the imposing length of him. You could feel Butcher's cock pulsing inside of you, each merciless thrust sending shivers up your spine. The combination of Frenchie in your mouth and Butcher inside you was a crescendo of sensation, your body a willing instrument in the orchestra of lust. The growls and groans of the men filled the room, the raw carnality of it all pushing you closer to the edge. As Butcher's pace increased, you felt the spasms of your senses roll waves of electric heat over your body. Your thighs twitched, the praise from Butcher, like a whip, lured you to do more, to be more. You focused on taking Frenchie deeper, the vibrations from your moans a delicious torment to him. You could feel your orgasm building, a storm crashing in your foggy mind. The heady mix of being filled by two men, one in your mouth, the other in your pussy, was a testament to your skill, a siren's song that would leave the men wrapped around your finger. The idea was mouthwatering.

Sweat glistened on your skin, your body shaking with the onslaught of pleasure. The realization of being shared between the two men, the thought of their pleasure being at the mercy of your body, sent you spiraling over the edge. You cried out, the strained sound muffled by Frenchie's now throbing cock, your heat clenching tightly around Butcher. Your orgasm pulsed through you, a tide of pleasure that threatened to drown you, pull you under with the two men that infected your mind.

"F-fuck," Frenchie's voice was practically trembling. "I'm so close

The sight of you moaning around Frenchie, your body quaking with orgasmic bliss, was enough to send Butcher over the edge alone. The taste of him was intoxicating, his hips stuttering up into your welcoming hot mouth, whispering under his breath as he focused on the feeling of your tongue. His chest rose and fell, taking in ragged breaths that began to speed up, desperate to release himself down your throat, a heady potent mix of dominance and submission, fighting to please. Frenchie came with a soft whimper, eyebrows knitting together tightly as he filled your mouth, spilling over your lips in a messy thrust. Butcher's hips began to buck, thrusts unsteady and punctuated, cock tensing and pulsating inside you as you swallowed all Frenchie could give. Tears of overstimulation peaked at his lashes, gazing at you holding him in your mouth as Butcher pounded slammed into you, his hold on your waist tight as he came, his cum flooding your quivering pussy. The pulsing of your walls around him like an insatiable vice, the near instant feeling of release a cathartic relief.

You laid there for a beat, body still trembling, the taste of Frenchie lingering on your tongue, Butcher's hot cum dripping down your thighs. The air was thick with the scent of sweat, sex, the sound of all three of you collectively catching your breaths. Butcher was the first to move, to break the hazey moment as he drew away from you with a soft grunt. You rested your head against Frenchie’s stomach, legs shaking and nearly collapsing as Butcher released his grip from you. For a moment, you feared Butcher would simply leave - Though slowly, he eased down onto the creaky mattress beside you. His large hand rose slowly, brushing the ruffled hair from your face. The the two men lay on either side of you, their hands lightly stroking your skin and hair as you all relished in the high of your shared orgasm.

"One hell of a team building exercise." Butcher muttered softly, his low voice rumbling as he leaned in to press a soft kiss to your hair.

"Well done, mon cher."

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