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amathslutsguidetofandom · 1 day ago

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"I'm Taking That As A Yes, Princess"

PAIRINGS: Ghostface!FratPresident!James "Bucky" Barnes x Reader

WARNINGS: Getting alcohol spilt on you, fingering, a bit angsty? (if you squint), semi-bathroom sex, swering, unprotected sex (darlings, please wrap your man's pig in a blanket), p in v, mentions of cum, handjob, a slight hint of a blowjob and slight fluff? (If I have missed anything, please feel free to let me know 😊)

WORD COUNT: 2,922

*not proof-read*

ENJOY!

Walking into the house, you were immediately surrounded by sweaty, sticky bodies. You grimaced at the overwhelming feeling and tried to find a space where you could catch your breath. The kitchen was relatively empty, except for a couple making out on the counter. You decided to mind your own business, reaching into the fridge and navigating past cans and bottles of beer to grab a water bottle hidden at the back.

You twisted the cap off and took a long sip. Everyone was dressed up differently, which made sense—it was Halloween. Instead of babysitting your little cousins, you’d faked being sick to your parents, dressed up, and come to the Alpha Phi house. This wasn’t like you at all. The top student in your class, the teacher’s pet, the early-assignment submitter, the girl who became a TA in her junior year—you were the “good girl.”

So why were you here? Because you’d overheard some girls talking about the infamous Halloween party that the Alpha Phi guys threw every year. And you weren’t the type who usually went to parties. So why this one? Because you’d heard that Steve Rogers was going to show up, and you had a little crush on the star player of the varsity ice hockey team. You’d been trying to muster the courage to talk to him ever since you sat next to him in a lab in your first year. That was two years ago, and you’d been harbouring feelings for him ever since.

Your heart did a little flip every time he smiled at you when you passed him in the halls. Finishing your water, you threw the bottle in the recycling bin and tugged your tutu down to avoid a wedgie. The ballerina costume was a last-minute, twenty-dollar buy, but you were happy with it—the corseted top accentuated your chest, and though the sheer tights were a bit snug, it didn’t bother you too much.

You were making your way through the crowd and spotted a tuft of blond hair. Your heart flipped again. This was it, the perfect moment. You were going to ask Steve if he wanted to go out sometime. He was tipsy enough to say yes, and if he said no, he’d be too focused on his hangover tomorrow to remember your question. You took a deep breath and started toward him.

Then you saw them. You’d thought the rumours weren’t true, that they couldn’t be real. But the sight of Steve Rogers making out with Peggy Carter would be forever etched in your mind, because the pain in your heart was unbearable. You stood frozen, your heart thudding in your chest as you watched Steve's hands roam over Peggy’s body. You clenched your jaw and sniffled, rooted to the spot.

You only snapped out of it when someone spilled their drink on you. “Damn, sorry, gorgeous,” a guy dressed as Fred from Scooby-Doo winked at you drunkenly before chuckling and moving away. You shook your head, trying to clean the alcohol off your costume.

“Hey, buddy. I think you owe the girl a real apology,” another voice piped up. You looked up to see a towering figure dressed as Ghostface, holding Fred by the shoulder. “Now, say you’re sorry—like you really mean it, and none of that half-assed stuff because you’re shitfaced,” Ghostface ordered, crossing his arms. Fred straightened up, looked you in the eye, and apologized sincerely. Ghostface nodded approvingly and sent him away.

Before you realized it, Ghostface had moved closer to you. You turned to see him looking you over, his mask bobbing as if inspecting your costume. He clicked his tongue and put a hand on the small of your back. “C’mon, let’s get you cleaned up, yeah?”

You both walked upstairs, where the sounds of the party gradually faded, and you were grateful for the quiet. You hesitated when he opened a door and gestured for you to go in.

For the first time that night, you spoke up. “Um, I’m sorry, but I don’t even know who you are.”

The chuckle that followed freaked you out a little, but then he reached up to remove the mask.

James. Freaking. Barnes.

You tried your best to mask your surprise, but you were sure he saw it, because the corners of his lips lifted into a smirk.

James “Bucky” Barnes—the captain of the varsity ice hockey team, a good student, a charmer, the president of Alpha Phi, and most importantly, the best friend of Steve Rogers.

You’ve met James a few times here and there. During some of the varsity games. And passed him in the dorms sometimes. He never caused you any trouble. He even offered to help you move-in in your second year when he clearly saw you struggle push your luggage up the stairs.

You were just acquaintances.

You swallowed and timidly walked into the pristine room, surprised by its immaculate condition. “I certainly didn’t expect a frat president to have such a clean room,” you muttered, hearing James laugh at your comment as he closed the door.

“Well, I don’t work well in a messy environment,” he shrugged and walked closer, his gaze trailing over your corset. You backed up slightly at the intensity of his approach, making him huff a laugh. “I don’t bite, princess,” he said, his fingers grazing the edge of your corset.

He gently guided you to the adjoining bathroom. “I’ll have to wash it out a bit. So, if you don’t mind getting your tutu a little damp, princess…,” he led, waiting for your response. You shook your head, signalling it was fine. He nodded toward the counter, and you hopped onto it.

He wetted a towel and began dabbing it on your clothes. “So, what’s a timid thing like you doing at a fraternity party?” he whispered, his focus on cleaning up the stain. You glanced at his concentrated face before looking away. “What? Can’t a girl come to a party?” you replied, defensively, for some reason.

James chuckled, “Oh, a girl can come to a party. But you, you’re not that type of girl, princess.” You raised an eyebrow at him, puzzled by his statement. “I mean, you never come to parties in general. So why the sudden appearance?” He sighed and caged you between his arms.

You tensed, starting to stammer. “Well, I wanted to see someone,” you shrugged, looking down at your hands.

“Yeah?” James asked, his gaze piercing. “Who was the special guy?”

You looked up at him through your lashes, then quickly looked away. He used two fingers to tilt your face toward him. “Eyes on me, princess,” he said softly.

“Steve. I came to ask Steve out…,” you admitted, spilling your secret.

James looked at you with you look, you couldn’t decipher what it was. But you didn’t know what to feel about it. He looked into your eyes for so long, you started to tear up due to the lack of blinking.

“Steve…,” he dragged it, and it made you wonder why. But you didn’t question it.

He continued to dab the wet cloth to your clothes. “You didn’t have to do that you know… The, um, asking the guy to apologize to me,” you broke the silence, because you couldn’t take the stuffy air that was in between the both of you.

James shook his head and chuckled as he dabbed on your neckline. “If I didn’t my Ma would scold my ear off if she knew. And, besides, a pretty girl needs to be treated right.”

You’re breathing stops at that, and you looked up at him with a confused look. He smirked at your expression, “what?” You shook you head and asked him, “you think I’m pretty?”

James scoffed and nodded, “I would have to be blind if I didn’t think your stunning, princess.”

You didn’t realise but your lips and James’ were a hair breadths away. “James…,” you tried to start but James beat you to it, “Bucky, princess. Call me Bucky.”

You gulped and nodded.

“Bucky.”

He groaned at they way his named sounded on your tongue. “Princess, your killin’ me here,” he whispered more to himself than at you. His knuckles gripped onto the counter tight. “Please…,” he muttered.

“Pardon?” you didn’t catch what he said.

“Please let me kiss you.”

You froze, you didn’t know what to do.

You always thought Bucky was hot. Hotter than Steve, but you never had any classes with him to fully judge him. You were a hundred percent sure that if Bucky was your lab partner instead of Steve, you’d totally be crushing on Bucky instead.

And if that were the case, you’d be nodding your head like a mad man. Steve was taken, you were still recovering from that. Bucky, apparently, liked you. Liked you more than you thought he did.

You saw the way his gaze flickered from your eyes to you lips and back to your eyes. Your tongue darted out to wet your lips, and saw his pupils dilate at the movement.

“I-,” you started but your thoughts were washed away when you saw Bucky lick his lips too. You heart thuds in your chest as you feel like the whole world is dark and the spotlight is just on you with the way Bucky looks like you. There’s a small part of you that wanted to feel how his lips would feel against you.

So, you nodded.

Before you knew it, Bucky was standing between your legs and gripping your hips. He then pulled you close and smashed his lips on yours. You took a second to understand what was going on, but when your conscious did come back to you cupped his face and kissed him back.

He licked at your bottom lip asking your permission to open up your mouth and you allowed it immediately. Soon your tongues were dancing together, yours was meek and shy letting Bucky do all the taking over. You wrapped your arms around his neck and whimpers against his mouth, which just made him groan against you.

He moved his lips from your mouth to your jaw, then to your neck. You tilted your head to give him more access, and the more you let him the more your whimpers turn to moans.

He moves his hands all over your body, “this okay, princess?” He whispered against your skin, and you nodded fervently and grasped at his black cloak. You felt him palm at your chest, and you sighed and whispered a, “more, Bucky, please.” He nodded against your skin and moved his hands up your thighs and squeezes the flesh of your thighs.

You felt the heat pool between your things and squeezed them together. Bucky smirked and pushed them away, “nuh uh, none o’ that.” He got closer to you, and you wrapped your legs around his hips and chuckled. His hands moved to your inner thighs, and you gasped out, the wetness pooling more into your underwear.

You felt his knuckles brushed against your core and you whimpered and dropped your head against his shoulder. “Please, Bucky,” you muttered against his costume. Without any other word he ripped your tights at the centre and felt the wet path of white cotton.

“Oh princess, so wet f’me already?” Bucky snickered and you nodded at his question. He rubbed his knuckles against your cunt’s lips and pressed his fingers harder when he heard your soft mewl. “You like it don’t you, princess?” To which you nodded again and whispered his name breathlessly.

He pushed your underwear aside and sunk his thick fingers in, and you whined at the intrusion. The sweet stretch felt better than your own meek fingers and soon Bucky was pumping his fingers in and out making your legs shake. “I’m not even rubbing your clit, princess. Your legs are already shaking,” he whispered roughly against your ear.

His thumb started to rub at your clit and that’s when you lost your mind. You mewled and moaned his name as his fingers were rubbing that deep spot in you and his thumb playing with your button has you becoming a wailing mess. He bends down and started to attack your neck. “Fuck, Bucky. Please,” you cried out as you feel your impending orgasm start to build at your core.

Bucky roughly rubbed at your clit and within seconds your gushed around his fingers. You sighed and untensed your shoulders. Bucky brought his fingers to his mouth, closed his eyes and licked them clean. You whimpered at the sight.

You both leaned in and captured the other in a deep kiss, Bucky picked you up like you weighed nothing and exited the bathroom and walked until he placed you down on his bed.

He pulled the Ghostface mask down and leaned to tower over you. You bit your lip, and he chuckled, “didn’t know princess was a bit freaky, hmm?” He unbuckled his belt under the cloak, and you took off your tutu and tossed it somewhere in his room.

When he managed to get his cock out of his pants, your eyes widened as the sheer size of him and then looked at him to see the small smirk that was painted on his lips. “Something wrong, princess?” You gulped and said, “it’s not gonna fit.”

Bucky chuckled and leaned over you once more and whispered into your ear, “we’ll make it fit, princess.” The tone he used made you shiver, and you gripped onto his shoulders and readied yourself. Bucky ran his shaft up and down you’re sit and you whined desperately.

“Bucky, please. I need you,” you squeezed your eyes shut and threw your head back. He tapped your cheek with two fingers and said, “eyes on me, princess.” And with that Bucky slowly pushed inside you. The stretch was so deliciously sweet and painful it made you lose your mind. You both gasped at the feeling of him moving further into you.

“Fuck, princess. You’re so tight,” he grits out as he starts to slowly thrust in and out of you. Your legs wrapped tightly around his waist and your nails raked down his back and he let out a deep moan which made goosebumps raise on your skin.

The sound of skin slapping on skin wasn’t’ as loud as your wails of Bucky’s name and moans. When the tip of him tapped against that spot in you, your eyes rolled to the back of your mind and you squealed, “Bucky right there, oh! Right there!”

Bucky grabbed a hold of the headboard and thrusted harder into you, aiming at that same spot and you felt tears run down the side of face in pleasure. “Fuck, princess. Gripping me like a vice,” he purses his lips as he knocked his hips against yours.

You felt the sheer length of him move in and out of you, your walls embraced him like he was meant to be there in the first place. “Attagirl. Take what I give you, yeah?” He huffed against your ear. The coarse patch of pubic hair that rested at the bottom of his happy trail, rubbed against your clit giving your that nice friction and it made you whine even more.

He pressed a hand against your abdomen and pressed down harder and it made the feeling even better. He saw how you reacted and pressed down harder, and you arched your back at the feeling. With that you felt the climax in you start to rise, “Bucky, I’m so close.” You whimpered as you watched the man wearing the Ghostface mask rut into you expertly.

He threw your legs over his shoulders and rutted into your harder, the band at your core bends and bends until it finally snapped and soon you were coming around Bucky’s cock.

Bucky groaned deeply at you squeezing him tightly, he pulled out and you whined at the loss of the feeling. He was fisting his length at the sight of you post orgasmic bliss and it looked so hot from your perspective. You quickly got on your knees and replaced Bucky’s hand with yours. “Fucking hell, princess,” he ran a hand through your hair and bunched it up at the back of your head. “That’s it, making me feel so good,” he sighed and threw his head back.

He groaned when you parted your lips, the mushroom head of his member inches away from your mouth. He tipped his head back, “fuck I’m so close.” And soon you felt his warm spent spill down your throat. Bucky moaned at the sight, and his chest reverberated deeply when he saw you swallow.

He pushed you down to lay on your back again and he then he laid next to you. You reached up and took of his Ghostface mask so you can his face. “That desperate to see my face? Hmm?” He smirked at your action. You shook your head and chuckled shyly, “maybe.”

Bucky reached up and caressed your face. “You know you’re really pretty right, princess?” You blushed at his comment, “buy me dinner first, Barnes.” Bucky chuckled and then nodded, “are you free this weekend?”

You froze, “you can’t be serious.”

“Well, I kinda am.”

“You are a piece of work James Barnes,”

“Should I take that as a, yes?”

You chuckled and shook your head; you gave him a soft smile.

“I’m taking that as a yes, princess.”

🎀🎀🎀

A fic posted during the midst of exam period?!

I would like to thank @buck-star for helping me with coming up with this idea!

This took a while and it's ALOT, but late night productivity hit me like a freight train haha.

I've one more exam in the next week and I'll be done!

Hope you lovelies liked this!

Lemme know what y'all think of the fic!

Till' then,

Stay Coquette-y,

Anya 🫶🏽🕊️🎀

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tremendouscreationperson · 3 months ago

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Logan x Reader pt.8

Not me and my mate watching Deadpool and Wolverine again

I forgot how mean and scrungally he is

I need him

<< Part 7 Part 9 >> Masterlist

Babygirl: party on saturday?

Y/N: Wade? Is this you?

Y/N: Did ya change your name on my phone?

Babygirl: shshsh

Babygirl: saturday?

Babygirl: party?

Babygirl: you?

Babygirl: normal?

Y/N: Yeah I'm not crazy if that's what ya mean

Babygirl: okie make sure wolvie knows

Babygirl: wear something nice

Babygirl: i like hearing you two at it

Y/N: Perve

“Why are you frowning?” Logan questioned, lowly. He was sitting on the sofa between you and Laura, the 2002 Scooby Doo movie playing on TV. You loved that damn dog.

The three of you had spent so much time together it was really sweet. Laura did still sleep on your bed whilst you claimed Logan's but after her therapy session yesterday she had asked you to sleep next to her - her nightmares were back - and, of course, you agreed. You felt really bad slipping into your bed because you essentially abandoned her on the second night.

“I'm sorry.” You stroked her hair. “I know the first night wasn't my fault but I've spent the whole time in Logan's bed.”

“It's okay.” She spoke and you could see she held no resentment. “I'm normally okay.”

“Well, you make sure you keep asking if you want a bed buddy.”

The bedroom door knocked and Logan quickly popped his head round. “‘didn't say night.”

That was a lie. He had said night.

The man walked to your side of the bed and bent to give you a quick kiss. You scratched the scruff on his cheeks and looked up at him. “Good night Logan.”

“Night, beautiful.”

He then leaned over you, his - barely, covered by a vest - pecs hovered by face and briefly kissed Laura's crown.

She accepted the kiss with a smile. “Night.”

“Night bub.” He ruffled her hair.

Logan hesitated for a second but did exit. You could tell he was worried. If Laura asked you she must've been scared. He also told you that he hadn't had a good night's sleep before sleeping next to you, so perhaps that was part of it. Maybe he was going to miss you being at his side.

“Wade is texting me every single emoji.” You whispered back, turning the screen, ping, elephant. Ping, arrow. Ping, music notes.

“Why-”

“I dunno.” You laughed. “But he says the party is back on this Saturday.”

Logan placed his hand out and you handed him the phone.

Y/N: stop harassing her or I'll break your face

Watching Logan type with his nails was hilarious. Laura had told the tech he wanted stiletto - the type she got - they weren't massively long but the shape was causing problems. Everything he's been doing has been made harder because of them.

Babygirl: promises promises

“I love your nails.” You gushed.

He displayed his fingers for you. One hand was yellow with a blue ring finger, his other hand was blue with a yellow ring finger. “I'm getting used to them.”

You held his hand, delicately moving it to see the glitter shine. “If they're hassling you, we can cut and file them to a better shape.”

“I like the challenge.” The hand you held was lightning quick and flipped positions. He pulled your hand to his and kissed the back of it. “Did you like the colour I chose?”

“Course I did.” You leaned your temple against his shoulder, hand still captured in his, and watched Scooby and Shaggy argue.

“No, Scooby Doo, your mum eats cat poop!”

Laura laughed at that, a full body laugh, deep from her stomach.

You were organising some of your things in Logan's room when it fell on the floor. Dedicating a bedside table and half of the wardrobe to yourself was easy because he already seemed to do that. Only using his half of his furniture.

You folded your jeans and placed them into the enclosed drawers in the wardrobe.

Logan's footsteps wandered into the bedroom. Usually heavy due to his skeleton but now they were light. You suppose it was a good thing this building was empty because the downstairs neighbours wouldn't like you.

“You alright?” You ask over your shoulder, tucking the drawer closed.

“Yeah.” He replied watching you neaten up the hangers.

He observed you potter about, sitting on the edge of the bed. You made his home yours. It was nice. He liked seeing your things intermingled. It felt real. This felt real and good and he was happy. He knew he didn't deserve this but he would grab ahold of it as long as possible. He would be happy and content.

Well, until his eyes caught something on the floor.

It sat face down just under the bed frame. Logan scooped it up and found it was a Polaroid. You were so young, smiling wide, one eye shut in a wink. Your hair was shorter, styled and you were wearing make-up. The top of a silky red dress visible on your shoulders. Next to you was him. He looked younger, his hair was longer, fluffier. He was grinning from ear to ear, one hand in the frame doing ‘devil horns’ whilst his other held two beers. He was wearing a black button down.

It was clearly a party.

You both were clearly having a good time.

“What was the occasion?” Came out of his mouth before he could stop it.

You glanced up and saw him looking at your Polaroid. Where had he got that? “It...it was Beast’s birthday.” You spoke, diplomatically, taking a seat next to him. “Rogue decided to throw a banger. W-I got quite drunk.”

“You look amazing.” You really did. There was a carefree aura surrounding you and you seemed to glow.

“Thank you.” When you had looked at this in the Void you didn't usually focus on yourself but you did look good. Better than you did now. "It's the makeu-"

"No, it's not." He vowed with an air of finality.

You didn't argue back, instead just thinking about how you wouldn't even know how to do makeup nowadays, all the women you saw were gorgeous. Their skin shone and they had sculpted cheeks.

"You are beautiful." He had told you this practically everyday but right now, sitting on the bed with him, gazing at an old vibrant version of yourself, you believed the words. Believed they were true, even if it was just to him.

“Thank you." Your hand found his arm. "You know, you can't see them but I loved the earrings I had on. Yo-” Cutting yourself off before you could act more of a fool.

“What?” He encouraged.

“Logan brought me them.”

He noticed the melancholy flicker in your eye. “What was he like?”

"Like you." You smirked up at him. “Sweet like you.”

“Longer hair.” His thumb traced the strands.

“I know, I loved the long hair, little kitty ears.” You giggled to yourself.

He saw the delight on your face, the scrunch of your eyes and wide grin. Immediately deciding to grow out his hair.

Dinner was actually really nice. Gambit had told you to come to his and he promised the best Cajun food you'd ever had.

He had decorated his apartment like any young bachelor. He'd painted the room a dark grey and accessorised with light colours. He had a white sofa and rugs and curtains. The TV was the centre of attention, underneath was a playstation with various game cases. You should really take Laura to IKEA or Home Depot, let her choose a paint or a bedspread or even buy her some posters.

“Like what you've done with the place.” You patted his back as he washed his hands.

“Thankin’ you ‘ere.” He flashed you a grin, towelling his hands dry.

“It smells lovely.” You glanced at the food. There was a pan sizzling and veg boiling. “What you making?”

“Jambalaya, cornbread ‘n greens, mon ami.” He smiled. “I don't remember ‘lot about ‘fore the Void but when I cook’ere this I feel a’ home.”

That was genuinely sweet, you felt a tug in your chest. “I'm so glad you're sharing this with us.”

“Ain't much.” He shrugged. “Bu’ it good.”

You both turned to the others, “Reckon Blade’ll have some?”

“I'll make a plate.”

You hummed. The Dhampir could consume food but it did nothing for him, it held no nutritional value which is why you guys ate the scavenged food and had to create the ‘feeding system’. “He might try it.”

“Sup bitches!” Wade and Al entered.

“Ah, mi amor.” Gambit opened his arms for Al.

Wade karate chopped between them. “Back off Magic Mike.”

Al shoved Wade to the side and slipped into Gambit's arms.

Wade dramatically rolled his eyes, slumping over to you. “Why do my friends leave me?”

“No one's left you.” You pat his head. “You alright? How was your day?”

Wade sniffed the food, finding a spoon and taste testing the Jambalaya. “Wo-hooah, that'll blow nips off.” He offered you the spoon, you declined, watching him expertly flick it into the sink. “Day was alright. I've been meeting with the Avengers. They do not like this bitch. Also Spiderman is young. I am not that way inclined. I'm looking more to an Andrew Garfield type.”

“Young?” You scrunched your face. “He wasn'- I guess that's another way this universe is different.”

Wade shrugged and skipped to the sofa, jumping over the back and landing right next to Blade.

“Oh, possum. How’s hunting Vampires? Need any help? I'm not sure we were friends last time but I'm willing to try again.”

There were two sofas and on the other was El and Laura, Gambit led Al over to it and the girls scooted up.

Logan was sipping a beer standing by the girls. He wore his low waisted boot cut jeans and a vest. Ugh. Seeing him casually in this outfit was fine, but haloed against the TV light, one leg cocked, was something else entirely. Why was he so good looking?

You wanted nothing more than to get on your knees and undo that stupidly large belt.

Logan stopped mid sip to blink over to you. His eyes raked up your body and he smirked over the bottle, mouthing ‘later’.

How did he know you were looking at him? Could he feel it? You watched him, moving yourself closer to the group - feeling the slightest slick between your legs - and you realised. Fuck. He could smell you.

Cou-could the others?!

Blade?

LAURA?

Could they smell your arousal?

Well, they'd certainly sense your panic. Calm down.

You sincerely hoped they couldn't and tried to calm yourself. Think of anything apart from him. Apart from his body. Fuck. Apart from his dick. FUCK. Apart from him, you can do it. I believe in you.

Apricots?

Good girl. God that's what he calls you.

The seat you took was a breakfast bar stool, pulled from the kitchen counter, placing it in-between each sofa.

“‘e’ere ready in a’ouple minutes.” Gambit informed the group.

The table was set so there were no jobs for anyone to do so you all just sat and chatted. Talking about stuff and nothing. Literally wasting what time you had. You could waste time.

You know you were becoming a broken record but you still couldn't believe everyone could just- just waste time.

Gambit announced the food was ready and you all settled at the table. It was hardly large enough for everyone and El had kindly brought her chairs in to accommodate everyone but you all made it work.

Gambit was at one end of the table and Wade at the other. Al, Blade and Laura on one side. You, Logan and El at the other.

“I jus’ wanna say a few words.” Gambit finished pouring the wine.

“Please.” Wade sassed.

He raised his glass. “No’ we all togethe’ I jus’ wanna ‘member those lost.” He took a deep breath. “Johnny.” Wade coughed. “Erik. Matt. Frank.”

“Whistler.” Blade carried on. “Safron.”

“Reed and Sue.” El tipped her head. "Victor."

You smiled at Gambit. “Anna Marie.” She had briefly caught his eye and helped you for a moment before her and Erik were killed. You knew he liked her. He told her to call him Remy, no one else did.

“My dad.” Laura’s voice was barely above a whisper. Her eyes were glued to Logan, brows pulled.

“Jean, Storm, Scott, Hank, Charles.” Logan's knuckles whitened.

Al nodded. “Deuce.”

“Deuce?” Wade questioned. “Your dog?”

“He was my eyes.” She shrugged. “I miss him.”

“Not as much as I miss Cable.” Wade starred off distractedly into the distance. “He was kinky.”

With that the speeches ended and you all tucked in.

It was scrumptious.

Absolutely brilliant.

You loved everything Gambit made and you definitely weren't the only one.

Bowls were emptied quickly, being filled with second and third helpings.

Once dinner was done you were sitting just idly chatting again when Logan placed his hand on your thigh.

Maybe it was the two glasses of wine you had - hadn't consumed alcohol in years - or the fact that he was fucking gorgeous but your legs not-so-subtly opened. You hadn't meant to, your body just merely responding to him.

Logan hummed in approval, patting your thigh before he rubbed it.

“So, Y/N, do you think you'll come with me to the gym tomorrow?” El asked, completely unaware.

“I was thinking of meeting you there.” You recalled the earlier conversation. “It's a quick walk and I haven't been out by myself so that might be good for me.”

Logan's hand slipped further, closer to where you wanted him most.

“I usually get there for eleven, leave at two but I'll probably hang about a little longer. Introduce you to Natalie.” She had told you about her gym friend and you were so happy for her. She deserved someone other than your broken family to talk to.

You all meandered back to the sofas, full and happy. Gambit gave you the choice Alien or Ghostbusters and it was decided that you'd watch the latter.

The final credits rolled along, you and Wade singing the tune very out of tune - singing the instrumential part ‘beeeeyneewneeewwwnewnewnenenew’ too.

Goodnights were quick. Everyone got a hug and a see you tomorrow.

Laura hesitated at her front door though, watching you head for Logan's. “Are you sleeping in there?”

“No.” You answered immediately. “No. I'll sleep with you baby.” How stupid were you to think she'd be alright. She had had an awful therapy session yesterday and needed you, she wasn't going to magically get better. She needed time. “My things are in here though, Hun, I'll get ready and meet you.”

She smiled small and let you leave.

Logan was on you immediately, bear hugging you from behind. “How long we got?”

You chuckled. “Not long enough Mr.” Extracting yourself from his arms, mirroring his earlier taunt. “Later.”

He grumbled but watched you get ready for bed. You hopped in and out of the shower - warning him to stay away - and began washing your face at the sink.

He watched you perform your ablutions, unobstructed by the nails.

“Why is it easier for you?”

You raised a brow. “Huh?”

“The nails.”

“I'm not sure, could be the shape? I think I had them done once for a wedding when I was younger.” A thought slipped through your mind and right out of your mouth. “You're like Victor.”

Logan guffawed. “He could suck his back in. Came in handy wh- wait- we will have to file these.”

“Why?” You squeezed toothpaste onto your toothbrush and began brushing your teeth.

“Well, these ones anyway.” Logan had separated his middle and ring fingers. Ah. That's why.

You decided to play coy, with an innocent “Why?”

“You know why.” He winked.

“There's a file in that draw, get the clippers and I'll help if you want. It won't take long.” You spoke over the toothbrush, taking time to spit.

He didn't comment on your hasty response, eager to avoid a future obstruction. Logan produced the items and waited for you to finish brushing your teeth. He sat on the lip of the bath. These apartments were brilliant because they had a bath and shower! You loved the choice!

You were precise in clipping them both and then made delicate work of filing, trying ever so hard to not destroy the paint job.

Logan sat patiently watching you work. The small frown on your face adorable.

He really liked you.

He knew that was childish.

But he really really did.

“Done.” You grinned proudly. “Can't wait to try them out.”

He hummed, taking ahold of your hips. “Why wait?”

A shaky breath left your lips but you were strong. “I'll see you tomorrow.” Kissing his nose. “Promise.”

You made a quick exit and entered Laura's front door. She was in bed waiting for you.

You tucked Laura into the covers before nestling in next to her.

The nightmares had returned, you had eased her to sleep yesterday. Being able to shush the problems away before they woke her was a blessing, you'd had to get good at that in the Void. Your Logan used to twitch and thrash about in his sleep, Laura does the same, you wondered if this Logan did also. Most likely. If you live as long as them you have a million ghosts hovering over you.

Laura fought sleep, pretending to watch a rerun of Law and Order. She'd become accustomed to watching TV in bed and you had to agree it was the way to go.

You never truly understand the show because you zoned in and out of slumber but the storylines were basic enough to grasp.

Laura spasmed next to you, rousing you from the light dozing. The TV was still on, telemarketers selling unnecessary products, casting a low light for you to see she was covered in a sheen of sweat. Her face was twitching and her shoulders were tense.

“Laura, baby?” You whispered. She usually responded to your voice alone.

Nothing eased her, instead she snarled.

“Laura.” You spoke more firmly. “Laura, I'm going to place a hand on your shoulder.” Again, that usually worked. This time, though, her eyes sprung open and she punched you in the gut.

You gasped, feeling more pain than a punch. It was sharp. Ah fuck.

“Laura.” You fought to keep your voice even.

Her eyes were blown wide and her mouth hung open.

“Laura don-” She retracted the claws.

Fuck!

Now the real trouble began.

You kept a hand on your side, creating a field around the wound to keep pressure on it. “Laura. Baby. It's okay.” You reached out to grab her hand but she scurried away. Clamouring off the bed and into the corner of the room, she shook with unshed tears

“Laura.” You didn't want to panic her but you needed her to focus. You needed her in the room with you. “Laura, I need you to get Logan.”

She spluttered, covering her mouth, and nodded frantically. Sprinting away.

You were alone.

Laying in bed.

Holding yourself together.

Shit.

This would stain.

You heard crashing and yelling before Logan stormed into the bedroom. The door flung so hard it came off the hinges.

“Baby.” He was immediately at your side.

“Logan.” You smiled in relief.

“Don't just stand there, call 911!” He yelled at Laura.

“Hey.” You frowned. “Don't be mean.

Logan snarled and ripped the phone from her hands. He dialed a number which was more than three and placed the phone to his ear, using both hands to hold your side. "It's me. I need the cradle. I don't fucking care. You owe me. Yeah this is my favour. Fuck off and help."

The phone was flung to the side and he smiled down.

"Help is coming, beautiful."

You tried to suppress a cough but that didn't work, blood spitting out of your mouth.

"What the fuck did you do?!" Logan growled over his shoulder.

You couldn't see Laura but knew he was talking to her. "Lo-logan." You warned.

"Fucking trouble."

He hadn't been like this with you. Hadn't been this angry. Hadn't swore so much.

"Stop." You ordered, vision blurring. "Logan?"

"I'm here." He promised.

You blunk and the room was different. Lighter. There were annoying led lights flashing past. You were moving. Your view was slightly obstructed due to Logan still being at your side. He was jogging, you could tell because of the way his hair bounced.

"Your hair." Your voice was muffled, restricted. Hands flying to your face to find there was a mask attached to your nose and mouth.

"Leave it on baby."

You grumbled but dropped your arm. Gosh it was an effort to move.

You were tired.

Why were you so tired?

How could you get to this level of tiredness?

Weren't you asleep a second ago?

These questions didn't matter because you found yourself easing back into a dreamless sleep.

Part 9

@littlecrowtime @geeksareunique @lovelyvaderx @melissa-ashe @st1nkabutt @maximumchilddreamland @catiwinky @twinkywink @ravenmedows @electricreader @racetrackheart @vulgarfuckinvirgo77 @bisasterbisexual @tzurue @narniansmagic @seamlessepiphany @4ria790 @caramelatae

Again not 100% if all ze tags be tagging

#marvel #james logan howlett #logan howlett #logan x reader #logan #logan 2017 #deadpool #logan howlett x reader #the wolverine #wolverine x men #deadpool and wolverine #wolverine #wolverine x reader #xmen #deadpool 3

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megamindsecretlair · 5 months ago

Text

Burn For You

Pairing: Franklin Saint x Black!Fem!reader / Plus Size reader

Warnings: 18+, Minors DNI, You are in charge of your own reading experience. Intentional use of AAVE. Cursing, kissing, smut. PIV, oral (fem and male receiving), fingering (female receiving).

Summary: Coming back to LA from college was like coming back to an alternate universe. So many part of the hood were equally familiar and completely foreign to you. However, the one thing that hadn't changed much is Franklin Saint. Or so you thought. He walks with a cane now and is no longer the sweet boy you've nursed a crush on your whole life. After spending a day with him, you invite him back to your house after a few confessions leaves you hungry for him.

Word Count: 7,145k

AO3 Link

A/N: I....did not think this would turn out so long LOL. This is a very sweet ask from @kaaliyahsierra, thank you for trusting me with this, lovely! Please consider commenting and reblogging to help support writers!

Taglist: @planetblaque @notapradagurl7 @miyuhpapayuh @henneseyhoe @blackerthings @wide-nose-and-wonderful @sevikasblackgf @slippinninque @babybratzmaraj @browngirldominion @thecookiebratz @we-outsiiiide @kindofaintrovert @theunsweetenedtruth @theyscreamsannii @kaaliyahsierra @pinkpantheris @blackelysian @sugrcookiiee @hihellogoodbyebruh @softimgyu @neawarren @harmshake @iv0rysoap @ciaqui @amethyst09 @nworbaij @nerdieforpedro @judymfmoody @multiversefanfics

Damn, the neighborhood had really changed. As you drove through the old haunts of Compton, you looked around at the busted places, plazas full of thugs, homeless on every corner. And it seemed like the gangs had increased their activity. There was a boy on every corner.

Coming back from college, this almost felt like a nightmare. Like you stepped off of a crazy Scooby Doo type of town. Where everything and nothing felt familiar. Was this the cost of leaving? Not feeling you belong anymore?

“Girl, cheer up! It’s not all bad,” your friend, Tucky, said. You may have mentioned how shocked you were once or four times.

She proceeded to tell you all the ways that LA was still the same. There were still bad little kids scrambling to get home before the streetlights came on. There were still cop cars and helicopters lulling people to sleep. There were still the hot ass summers.

You put on a brave face and nodded. You didn’t want to spend your last few weeks here being miserable or grumpy. You came to unwind a bit from college before starting your job at the bank. It wasn’t the first thing you wanted to do, but it paid well enough and you were inside a building all day. Even during hot summers.

Tucky drove to your parents’ house and you couldn’t help looking at all the different ways drugs, crime, and poverty was slowly melting LA right before your eyes. You could only shake your head at it.

Tucky pulled into your driveway and helped with your bags. Inevitably, your eyes searched across the street for Franklin Saint. Having grown up in the neighborhood, you used to run with him and the crew. You used to chase each other around the lawns, rode bikes, got into all kinds of trouble as kids.

Franklin was the first to go away to college. He set the bar for everyone, but not everyone was able to meet it. Melody was set to go as well, just like you, but you never learned why she didn’t.

It was silly to look for Franklin. The odds that he was still living at home with his mom were slim. It was just that…well…you still carried a torch for him. A huge one. So huge it felt like it would crush you most days. He was the measuring stick by which you judged every guy at college.

Eventually, you stopped trying and learned to like the guys around you. At every corner, they fell short. They weren’t tall enough, broad enough, dark enough, smart enough, or funny enough. You ended up losing your virginity to one of them. Bad experience all around. You thought that it’d be magical or heavenly like all those books you read or shows you watched.

It was nothing but a disappointing seven minutes. You vowed never to try again unless you were absolutely certain about the guy. And it never happened. Because none of them were Franklin.

As you were lost staring at his front door, Franklin emerged from his house. He limped with a cane and you lurched forward as if you could do something about it. Why did he have a cane? He was too damn young for a cane.

He still looked good though. He wore a wine colored polo shirt buttoned to the top, dark jeans, and sneakers. From where you could see him, it looked like his hair grew out as well. He walked with the surety of being mature. Gone was the sweet boy who you used to make up excuses to go see at Cho’s.

Tucky came out of your house. You turned to her. “What the hell is Franklin doing with a cane?” You asked.

Tucky looked across the street at Franklin, who stood in his doorway talking to his mom, Cissy. “We didn’t know if we should tell you…Melody shot Franklin,” Tucky said.

“She what?” You practically screamed.

Melody shot Franklin? Too many questions ran through your mind. That girl was as in love with Franklin as you were. What the hell could have happened in four years? And why the hell didn’t your friends tell you anything? Not even your parents?

That seemed like pretty huge fucking news to not share with somebody. Tucky knew how long you carried the torch for Franklin. She knew that you felt horrible liking the same man as Melody. How crushed you were when it seemed like he was more into her and not you. How could she not tell you?

“You were off at college and we all kinda promised to let you enjoy it. What good would it have done to tell you he got shot? You would’ve just run back here,” Tucky said.

“That was my decision to make,” you said.

“No, it wasn’t. You have a chance to get out of this shit. Not everyone does. So no, it wasn’t up to you to decide to let the hood drag you back into this shit. The first chance you get, move out of the neighborhood and don’t come back.” Tucky grabbed your last bag from the car and took off inside your house.

You rubbed your head. All these conflicting emotions were giving you a headache. The hot LA sun beat down on you with the briefest glimpse at a breeze. You looked once more to Franklin’s house. He was facing you and then he waved.

You gasped. You didn’t actually think he’d see you though you made no move to hide. You waved back. Franklin kissed Cissy on the cheek and then limped down the steps. You thought he was going to head to his car out front, but he continued past it. Crossing the street.

Your heartbeat sped up. Your lips trembled. You weren’t expecting to talk to him right now. You had no idea what your breath smelled like or how you looked. You wore petal pushers, a yellow tank, and flip flops. Not exactly queen of sexy at the moment. There was nothing for it as Franklin got closer.

“What are you doing back here?” Franklin asked. He approached you and then swallowed you up into a big, deep hug. The kind that made you melt against him, like he was soaking up every negative thought you had.

“All done with college,” you said with a grin.

“Four years went by that fast? Damn,” he said. He got a faraway look in his eye before he smiled at you.

“College did good for you?” He asked.

You shrugged. “Wasn’t without some problems. I sure missed everyone here though,” you said.

“Everyone?” He asked.

You rolled your eyes and fought a smile. Franklin was the only one who could put you back at ease. Like four years was just a thought in your head. You were transported back to the good old days of high school. Franklin, still young and sweet, the gang together. You did hear about Kevin’s passing though. It had been too hard to make it back home to see everyone. You were still reeling from the fact that Tucky kept so much from you.

“Yes, that includes you Franklin Saint,” you said.

Franklin chuckled. “You know, to this day, you’re the only one who calls me by my full government name,” he said.

“It’s a good strong name. Why not use the whole thing?” You asked.

“‘Cause I’m not in trouble,” he said.

You crossed your arms and leaned on Tucky’s car. The afternoon sun already made it hot to the touch, so you could feel the heat through your pants. Still, you leaned on it and looked at Franklin. “I’m happy I ran into you,” you told him.

“Me too. Glad I got to see you. How ya been?” He asked.

You caught him up on nonsense about what you studied at school, the friends you made, and the food you tried. Tucky came outside while you were in the middle of talking. She said hi to Franklin and told you that her mom paged her, she needed to get back to watch her siblings.

“I thought we had all day to hang out together,” you said.

Tucky rolled her eyes. “I did too. My brother was supposed to watch them but Mama said she don’t trust him as far as she can throw him. I’ll try to get over tomorrow. It depends if she work a double shift,” Tucky said. She hugged you bye and then waved to Franklin. She got in the car so you moved onto your front lawn to let her pass.

She drove down the street, leaving you without anything to do today. Your parents were on a mini vacation up to Santa Barbara at the moment. Just you and the house for a few days before they got back. What the hell were you going to do now?

“You hungry?” Franklin asked.

“Huh?” You heard what he said, you just needed a moment for your mind to process it. He repeated his question and you nodded.

“Yeah, I can eat,” you said. You were hungry enough to eat a fuckin’ cow. Between the flight into LAX, cruising around with Tucky, and everything she revealed, you were starving. You had wanted to stop at In and Out, but Tucky wanted to unload your stuff first. Too many instances of people getting robbed in broad daylight.

“Lock up the house, I’ll take you to get some Fatburger,” he said.

“Are you sure? You don’t have anything to do today?” You asked.

Franklin smiled. “Not anymore,” he said.

You walked backwards from him with your hands in your pockets so he wouldn’t see how fucking giddy you were. That you got to spend some time with Franklin Saint. Alone. None of the crew with you.

You’d been alone with him before throughout the years. Times where everyone else split but you two lived close to each other so you could linger a bit longer. Melody, with her cop dad, had to be home way before the streetlights came on. She usually initiated the great departure. Kevin and Leon would go next and then there was just you and Franklin.

There had been many times where it felt like it could lead to something more. But you were too chicken to say what was on your mind. To let him know that you were feeling him. And if he turned you down, at least you’d know and you’d stop guessing and torturing yourself. But then your feelings would be out there. And if he did turn you down, you’d still have to be around him after.

You turned and went to get your purse, making sure your wallet was inside. You locked up the house and then walked with Franklin to his car. He was able to move pretty well with the cane. You wondered about the shooting and his recovery, wondered how he felt getting shot by the one girl you swore would end up with Franklin.

He opened the passenger side for you and you smiled at him as you got in. He limped to the front seat, getting in, and then peeling away from the curb. He was a careful driver, following all of the laws and not speeding too much. It was LA. Everyone sped. And those who didn’t were tourists and people who just moved here.

You talked about nothing important, asking Franklin what he’d been up to since you last seen him. He was vague about his work, but mentioned that he was trying to get into real estate. That was what he and his mom were trying to do together, but it was slow going because of people like her old boss.

Making it to Fatburger, Franklin got out of the car first. He told you not to move while he came around and opened the door for you. “You don’t have to do that, Franklin Saint,” you told him.

“I want to do it.” He smiled and took your hand. You must have gotten off in an alternate LA. An alternate universe. One in which you were holding hands with Franklin Saint and he was about to buy you a burger.

You ordered and while you waited for the food, you pestered him with questions. “I guess I never thought you’d go into real estate like your mom,” you said.

He shrugged. “All these investors and white dudes come into our hoods to make money off of our backs. They leave the places like shitholes and then get mad when people want something better. If they can do it, I can do it better,” he said.

You smiled. If nothing else, at least that same fire in him never went out. “My mom and I own an apartment block not too far from here actually,” he said.

“Wait, really? What’s the rent like?” You asked.

“You trynna move out already? You just got back,” he said.

Your orders were called so Franklin grabbed them. You made your way back to his car, leaning on the hood while you dug into your burger. You moaned at the first taste of it. What you loved about Fatburger was that it tasted just like someone whipped it up in your kitchen. A hood staple. Nothing fancy about it.

“I had four years without my parents down my back about everything. There’s no way I can stay in that house for too long,” you said.

“I can show you one of the empty units if you want,” he said.

“Yes! Please,” you said. It’d be a bit awkward paying Franklin and his mom for a place to stay. But fuck. Anything had to be better than being back under your parents’ roof. They were sweet, truly, but even while away at college, they refused to see you as an adult. You needed out, as soon as possible.

You fell into a comfortable silence as you ate your food. The sun was finally starting to lose some of its heat. Honking cars, slamming brakes, and helicopters made for a chaotic song in the background as you looked around.

Finished with your food, you threw out everything in the nearest trash can. When you approached Franklin again, he caught you about the waist and pulled you closer.

“Stay out with me,” he said.

You giggled, wrapping your arms around his neck. This was so surreal. And unfortunately, you weren’t cool enough to go with the flow. “Franklin Saint, what are you doing?” You asked.

“I really did miss you,” he said.

You licked your lips. If only this man knew…knew about the many times you spent awake, dreaming about him. Wondering about him. Daydreaming about him. He had no idea.

“But this…” you said, letting the sentence dangle. You were still too nervous to be out with it. To go on and say what you meant.

Franklin chuckled and gripped your hips a little tighter. He interlocked his fingers behind your back. “A lot has changed. A lot of bad shit. I got some scars. Thank you for not asking about the cane, by the way.”

You smiled. You did want to ask about it, but Franklin was entitled to tell you about it or not. Tucky was wrong. People were responsible for their own informed decisions. You didn’t have a right to demand information from Franklin.

“But what’s never changed was how I felt about you,” he said. He looked at you while he said. Everything in you told you to believe it. To cherish it. To hold it in your heart and never let it go.

“Stop playing,” you told him, laughing to diffuse the sudden too tense situation. You tried pulling out of his arms, but he held on tight.

“I’ve done a lot of shit. Regretted a lot. One of my biggest regrets was never telling you how I felt in high school,” he said.

Your lips parted on a quiet gasp. “In high school? You were on Melody,” you said.

He winced as you said her name. You wondered about which memories those conjured up for him. You may not feel right asking him, but you would definitely ask Tucky the next time you hung out with her. You had been too out of the loop.

“I liked you. But it never seemed like you liked me back and I was too nervous to ask. When you left for college…all I could think was that I should’ve kissed you,” he said.

Today was a day for revelations it seemed. You stared, open mouthed at Franklin. Your head emptied of every thought except that…Franklin Saint liked you back. Been liking you since high school. And he was the nervous one? He was the one that wasn’t sure about your feelings?

“Franklin Saint…I’ve had a crush on you since we first met,” you told him.

“You have?” Franklin asked. He smiled. “Why didn’t you ever say anything?”

You shrugged. You licked your lips, so dry in the face of everything you kept locked down for years. Practically a decade at this point. You rehearsed what you would ever say to Franklin if you had the chance. That rehearsal did nothing for you at the moment since you couldn’t remember a single sentence.

“It felt like you were more into Mel. She was my friend too and I saw the way she looked at you…”

There were plenty of times that you caught them looking at each other when they thought everyone else weren’t looking. You thought they would have ended up together by now. Mel on her first kid at least.

Hearing that she was the one to shoot him was still odd to you. There was so much you were missing.

“I did like Mel. I won’t lie and say that I didn’t. But I think Mel was safer,” he said.

You looked up at him. Night was fast approaching. The lot lights were starting to come on, bathing Franklin in a pale glow. His eyes darkened in the shadow of the light but this up close, you could see him. Really see him.

“Mel lived right next door. She had a cop for a dad. I knew who she was inside and out. Or I did,” he said. “But you…you scared me.”

“I scared you?”

Franklin nodded. “You’ve always been special. Always saw the world better than I ever did. I thought if I told you, if I kept you here selfishly…I’d never forgive myself,” he said.

“Think mighty high of yourself to think I would stay home from college for you,” you said. You smirked to let him know that you were teasing. But only a little. You probably would have found a college closer to home if it meant that you got to be with Franklin Saint.

Your feelings weren’t one sided. All these years. Wasted. Gone. All the nights spent dreaming about a life with Franklin. Those could have been nights spent on the phone talking to him.

“Not that. You deserved to live your life without worrying about me. Or anyone from the neighborhood,” he said with a smile. That damn smile. No matter what he did, he always had the same smile. The kind that warmed you down to your toes.

“What about what I wanted? You don’t know what I would’ve done had you told me sooner,” you said.

Franklin nodded. “I’ll live with that. At least you went to college guilt free,” he said.

You sighed and leaned your head on his chest. You breathed in his beautiful clean scent. Felt his strong arms around you. His long legs pressed against yours. This. This was your dream. To be wrapped up in his arms and forgot the world existed.

You pulled back and looked at him. “Take me home?” You asked, a shy smile on your face. This was the boldest thing you’d ever done in your life. Your stomach rebelled, screaming that this was too much for you.

But it wasn’t. He would make sure of that. Franklin Saint was always goofy, kind, and sweet. Four years and whatever went down for him couldn’t change that completely. Couldn’t change him.

“Are you sure? I’m not pressuring you into anything, I swear,” he said.

You placed a hand over his heart to calm him down. “I’m very sure,” you said. You hoped you sounded calm. This was what you had been dreaming about as soon as you were old enough to recognize that he was a very attractive boy and made your stomach feel funny. You dreamed about kissing him, getting naked with him, and feeling him move inside of you.

It was so close for the taking. All you had to do was reach out. And be honest. Speak up for once in your damn life and grab what you want instead of waiting for divine intervention. Like you were going to trip and land on his dick somehow. No. You wanted him. And you wanted him now.

“If anything, it feels like I’m pressuring you.”

Franklin smiled and then leaned down to press his lips against yours. It was nothing like what you imagined. It was so much better. His lips were soft, but forceful as he took control and kissed you like two lovers reunited after decades apart.

He stole the breath from your lungs as he swept his tongue inside, exploring your mouth. He sucked on your bottom lip, awakening an ache deep in your lower belly. You sighed and gasped against his mouth, loving the expert way he kissed. He Kissed, with a capital K. The kind that turned you into a giant puddle.

His hands migrated from your lower back to your ass, cupping it in his big hands. You moaned against his mouth, a little embarrassed to make such a sound. Franklin didn’t miss a beat, continuing to kiss your socks off. Well, if you were wearing any.

He pulled back slowly. Both of you were out of breath. You blinked a few times, clearing the lusty daze, before looking into his eyes. “You still sure? You can say no,” he said.

You smiled and pecked him on the lips. “Franklin Saint, take me home now,” you said.

Franklin chuckled and released you. You shivered from the onset of a chill in the air. It was still muggy out, hot enough to know you won’t get any type of cool relief tonight from a fan. Franklin opened your door first and then got into the driver’s seat.

He grabbed your hand and kissed the back of it, before pulling out of the gravel parking lot and headed back to Compton. This type of night, right after rush hour, it didn’t take long to make it back to your house.

Franklin pulled into the driveway and opened your door. You climbed out with a goofy grin on your face. Both of you had been too excited to do much talking. Your hand had been on his thigh the entire ride home.

Franklin told you about all the ways he knew that he liked you. Like in high school, you wore a specific pair of pants that really made your ass stand out. Or when you’d call him by his full name and he felt it in his chest. The way he’d get excited to see you at any function you all hung out together.

You told him about all the times he’d been sweet to you. When you would work on the same project for school or he’d walk you and Mel home. You were across the street so he’d drop you off first and you had to stare out of the window while he walked Mel home. You didn’t tell him that part. But you did tell him that you always hoped he’d ask you to one of the school dances until you learned that he wasn’t much for dancing.

Now that you were at your place, you were completely turned on. Desire rippled through you like waves of heat off of asphalt. The crush that you lovingly tended to these long years burst free. Now, you were just desperate to get him underneath you. Or on top of you. You’d take him any way he wanted to give it to you.

Franklin kept up with you as you went up to your front door and unlocked it. Tucky dumped your things unceremoniously in the living room. You turned on the light with a giggle, moving things out of the way so that you could pass through without falling on anything.

Franklin chuckled with you, closing and locking the door behind you. He looked too inviting standing in the doorway of your house. He’d been inside before, everybody in the group had, but that was different.

Now, you were both adults. Now you were about to do adult things in your house. Your mom would clutch her pearls if she ever knew.

You smiled at Franklin. He smiled back. He limped closer, somehow making that sexy as well. He looked more distinguished than broken. Like the cane was a prop. A way to make people think he was weak when he wasn’t.

He took your hand and led you to your bedroom, knowing the way from memory alone. He didn’t turn on any more lights until he got to your room. Thank god you took down anything embarrassing from your childhood days. Now, the walls were a bit bland since you took down some posters.

You had planned on replacing it, but you didn’t spend long summers back home. You ended up finding a part time job in college, something to give you some spending money while your parents helped with school as best as they were able.

Franklin closed your door and then led you by the hand to your bed. He smiled as he pushed you to sit down. He leaned his cane against the corner of your bed and then moved to kneel.

“You don’t have to–”

“Don’t worry ‘bout me,” Franklin said. He grimaced but knelt down, moving in between your legs. Now, you were looking down at him slightly. He pulled you into a sweet, burning kiss that warmed you from the inside out.

As you kissed, his hands began exploring under your shirt. He found the edges and slowly lifted your shirt, warm fingers touching your cold skin. You shivered from the heat of him. The taste of him. You could get drunk from his kisses alone.

There was only the sound of your kissing and breathing, the window closed to the outside world. You were the only two people in existence at the moment. The only two who mattered. You felt like pinching yourself. Never, never, ever in your wildest dreams did you think that you’d be here with Franklin Saint.

You kissed for hours, or it could have been minutes, before Franklin pushed your shirt up and off. His calloused thumbs flicked over your sensitive nipples and you moaned. “Fuck, that feels so good,” you said.

“You feel so good,” Franklin said. He moved his lips down the side of your jaw, down your neck, and to your chest. He took one nipple into his mouth, suckling it to the point of pain. That pain morphed into something dangerously delicious in your lower belly, pooling desire in your panties.

You leaned back on your bed, giving him more access to your chest. His other hand continued to roll your other nipple between his fingers, giving you too much stimulation at once. You were squirming, fidgeting, moaning with pleasure. This was how your first time should have been. It should have been with Franklin Saint.

Franklin switched nipples, giving the other the same attention he lavished on the first. Cool air in the room hit the first nipple, making it bead up. You needed some friction. You rubbed your legs against his chest, needing him way closer than what he was.

Franklin looked up at you from suckling on your nipple. “What you need?” He asked.

“You. I need you,” you cried.

Franklin leaned back from suckling on you and you cried from the lack of contact. He pulled his polo shirt over his head, tossing it onto the ground to join yours. Your eyes looked over his wonderful body. The dark, smooth skin of his chest. The powerful, ripped arms. Franklin was still skinny, but he seemed to have lost the vestiges of boyhood. He was a man, through and through. Lean, honed, and sculpted.

He kissed down your belly. You giggled as he found a few ticklish spots. You ought to feel embarrassed. After all, this was Franklin Saint. The same boy who saw you get sick after eating too much ice cream when you were younger.

But this felt too right. Too destined. Like you were always on a collision course with him and it was only a matter of time before you ended up in this exact position. At the mercy of his loving hands and heavenly mouth.

He moved to undo your pants and he helped you wiggle out of them. You had to lay back and lift your hips in order to get everything off. Franklin grabbed your knees and gently pulled your legs back open, getting a good, long look at your glistening pussy.

Fuck, you felt yourself getting wetter just from seeing the way his eyes got bigger. Like he was a starving man staring down a feast fit for a king. He bit his lip as he trailed a finger through your wetness. You hissed. That contact alone was enough to send you through the roof.

You watched his face as his fingers explored your pussy. Nudging your pussy lips apart, he gathered up enough of your essence to soak his finger. Then he pushed his finger inside of you. You gasped, leaning back on your hands to keep you from just falling back and losing your marbles.

“So fuckin’ pretty,” he breathed.

“More, Franklin Saint. Please,” you moaned.

Franklin continued to go slow, moving his eyes from your pussy and to your eyes. He smirked as he fingered you, getting you so wet you were dizzy with arousal. Your skin sizzled. You panted, eyes starting to cross. Just when you thought you were going to go over the edge, Franklin slowed his finger.

You groaned, looking down at him. He smirked as he withdrew his finger altogether. You pouted, ready to complain when he painted your nipples with your essence. He stared at you while he leaned up on his knees and suckled your titties back into his mouth. He alternated between the two.

“Oh fuck,” you moaned. You brought one of your hands to the back of his neck, pushing him down onto your nipple. He chuckled and used his free hand to play with your clit. You jerked, moaning in your room without abandon. You were free to be as loud as you wanted.

You wanted him to hear you. To hear how well he was treating you. Because if you had your say, you would do this every night. Open yourself to him as often as you wanted. It was more than sexual. You knew this man inside and out. You knew his quirks, his habits. Why he smiled or why he smirked. You knew what made him sad and what made him happy. You knew which foods he liked and which sweets made him grin like a kid. You knew him on a deep level and it was enough to make you tear up.

Franklin licked the last of your arousal from your nipples and pulled his finger back out of you. He brought his wet finger up to your lips. “Suck,” he commanded.

You opened your mouth and sucked on his finger. It was so filthy, it made your pussy clench. You never thought much about tasting yourself. But when he demanded, you jumped to obey. You moaned around his finger, swirling your tongue like you wanted to do around his dick.

As if he sensed the direction of your thoughts, his eyes narrowed and a sexy grin spread across his face. He winked at you before pulling you into a sweet kiss. You sighed, melting into him.

“Lay down,” he said.

You did as you were told, laying on your back completely and getting comfortable. Franklin shifted on the floor, grunting a bit. You felt guilty for him being on his knees for so long, but he made no indication that he was in serious pain. And you didn’t want to ruin this moment by babying him.

He hooked his arms under your knees and yanked you closer to the edge of the bed. You yelped and giggled in response. “I could have moved,” you told him.

“I would have asked,” he said.

You giggled some more, lifting your head to look at him. You gave him a look and all he did was wink once more. He kissed your thighs, looking at you while you did so. Everywhere his lips touched, your thighs tingled. You licked your lips, watching his sexy display before you.

The way his fingers pushed into your plushy thighs. The way he alternated nibbling and kissing your legs, moving closer and closer to the wet center of you. You rolled your hips as he finally put his face where you needed him most.

You were close, you could feel it. You just needed his lips on you. Everywhere on you. Franklin blew a cool breath of air across your heated core and you moaned. He dropped his head and began to lick you.

“Fuck, fuck,” you moaned. You weren’t prepared for how well his mouth would feel on you. Suckling and licking on your clit. Your hand flew to his mini afro, pulling at him like a wild animal. You made all kinds of guttural, primal noises as he seemed to sense exactly what you needed.

He listened to every sigh you made, every moan you uttered. He paid attention to when you got quiet and when you were screeching with pleasure. Incoherent words fell from your lips as he ate you out.

“Taste so fuckin’ good, baby,” he moaned into you.

He brought one hand up to cup your titty. Your hand found his and you interlocked your fingers. Whether it was that extra connection or the slow way he teased your clit, you were finally screaming through an orgasm. Light and fire exploded behind your eyelids as you came, so consumed by the raging inferno that you couldn’t see or hear anything. Your mind was lost to the intense pleasure you received from Franklin.

Your hand clutched his as you came and came, waves upon waves of fire licking up your body. You released his hand in increments, slowly returning to your body. Pools of sweat gathered in your chest, neck, and back. Your heart was beating a thousand miles per minute.

Franklin moaned as he dragged his lips away from your pussy. You made an entire mess on your bed, but fuck it. Well fucking worth it.

Franklin climbed to his feet, hovering over you with a self-satisfied smirk. “You good?” He asked.

“So, so good,” you said and grinned. You got up slowly from your bed, standing up and stepping close to him. He lifted his eyebrow at you.

You smirked at him as you undid his belt and pulled his pants down. You dropped down to your knees, staring into his dark, beautiful eyes as you did so. He grinned.

“And I thought there could be nothin’ sexier than that ass,” he said.

You giggled. His dick was hard and thick in all the right places. You palmed him. He was so smooth and hard as steel. It amazed you. The feeling of him. You explored his balls as well, so heavy already. It made you ache just thinking of him filling you up. Just a fantasy though, you did not want babies.

You pushed for him to sit and then you scooted in between his legs. You took him into your mouth and Franklin hissed, his hand coming around your neck. He didn’t stop you, so you started to work on him, swirling your tongue around his thick tip.

He moaned, throwing his head back as you sucked his dick, tasting beads of precum as it leaked into your mouth. You played with his balls as well, using your hands to grip the base of his shaft. You let some saliva drip out of your mouth so that you could coat his dick and make it easier to slide your hands.

Every dirty thought or fantasy poured out of you, sucking him exactly as you had in your mind over the years. Every which way you thought to take him, you did. Bobbing your head up and down or massaging his balls just right. You hoped this would lead to more, but if it didn’t, you wanted to give him a night he wouldn’t forget. A night you would always remember over and over again.

“Fuck, baby,” Franklin moaned. You tried to pay attention to his words and actions like he did for you. But this blow job was more about you. You didn’t think you were one for sucking someone off like this, but fuck. Sucking Franklin Saint off did something to you. Turned you feral.

You slurped his dick, lewd sucking noises filling the room and mixed with his soft pleas and curses. He shifted his hips, moving them so that he was meeting your strokes in the middle. You sucked him down further, trying to fit more into your mouth without gagging.

“I’m gonna cum,” he moaned. You kept going. The goal was to make him cum. To make him feel good. To find pleasure in your mouth like you found with his mouth on you. He tried tapping your shoulder but you only continued, looking up into his eyes with a silent dare.

You wanted him to cum in your mouth. He looked at you and cursed as his dick twitched and released hot pulses of cum. You swallowed him down as he continued to release a thick load into your mouth.

He cursed again and again as you swallowed each and every drop. Franklin fell back onto the bed with a sigh and you slowly released his dick. He twitched, sensitive from a powerful orgasm.

You climbed onto the bed, snuggling into him. He panted and huffed. “Stole my damn soul,” he said in between breaths. “Give it back.”

You laughed, loudly, at his corny ass. “No refunds,” you told him and kissed his cheek. He turned his head and kissed you, tongue exploring your mouth. You sucked on his bottom lip and he groaned.

The kiss grew more passionate. Like you were both starving for each other and one hit wasn’t enough. He moved to climb on top of you but hissed with pain instead of desire. You broke the kiss and then pushed him until he was at the head of the bed, cushioned by your pillows.

You climbed off of the bed, finding his pants, his wallet, and then pulling out a condom. You opened the foil package, rolling it into his hardened dick. And that was just from kissing you. You grinned at him as you rolled it on, all the way down to the base. Then you pinched the top to give him some room.

You climbed onto the bed while he watched you with a soft look on his face. You blew him a kiss as you climbed onto him, trying not to hurt him.

“You won’t hurt me,” he said.

“I just want to make you feel good,” you said. And it was so true. So deeply true that you just wanted to make him happy. Make him feel nothing but peace in your presence. Make it worth taking a chance on you.

You lifted off of the bed and then guided him inside of your body. It took a few tries but you finally got him lined up just right. He helped steady you as you sunk down onto his dick. You both shared a moan.

Fuck. He felt so good stretching you that you closed your eyes and savored the feeling. The raw feeling of him inside of you and beneath you. His strong hands around your waist and back, steadying you.

You weren’t always good on top, but you made the effort to last as long as possible. You stayed on your knees, not athletic enough to properly bounce on his dick. You did your best though, moving so that you weren’t grinding on him, you were genuinely riding him.

You watched Franklin’s face, the drops of sweat sliding down the smooth planes of his face. He looked so damn good. From his hair to the goatee on his face. You planted your hands on his thighs, leaning back a bit and took him in deeper at this angle. You continued to bounce and moan, titties flying everywhere.

Franklin quickly solved that, grabbing your titties in his hands and leaning forward to suckle on your nipples while you rode him.

“Feel so good, so good,” you moaned.

“Fuck, ride me so well,” Franklin moaned.

Your nails dug into his bare shoulders as you continued to chase the orgasm that was just out of reach. You felt it, getting closer and closer, making your body turn to mush with desire. You clutched Franklin to you as the orgasm finally rippled through you.

A few pumps later, Franklin joined you, roaring out his pleasure as you felt him twitch and jerk inside of you. Your body bowed as his twitching touched a deep part of you. You moaned and collapsed on top of him.

You panted a few times then tried to move, not wanting to crush the poor man. But Franklin tightened his hold on you, bringing his arms to wrap around you.

“Stay just like this,” he whispered softly.

“Franklin Saint,” you muttered, smiling against his damp skin. You licked his chest and felt him shudder beneath you.

“Don’t play with me,” Franklin warned. You turned your head towards him and smiled, giving him a sweet kiss.

“Long overdo,” you said sleepily.

“Way too fuckin’ long,” he said. He kissed the top of your head. He eventually did slip out of you and took off the condom, but you were too wrapped up in each other to want to move. You stayed up until the sky brightened outside, talking and laughing with him until you both drifted off to sleep.

Whew! Need some more Franklin??? The Secret Franklin Saint Files

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deanbrainrotwritings · 11 months ago

Text

— LINES OF YOUR HANDS

SUMMARY : dean tries being seductive in a Santa suit… and it works, surprisingly.

PAIRING : dean winchester x fem!reader

CHARACTERS : none

WARNINGS/TAGS : explicit(18+), fluff, on the kitchen table, Santa suit kink, nude photography, breeding kink, jerking off, cum play

WORD COUNT : 2.3k

A/N : devil wears prada song title. @spnkinkevents : #12daysofspnkinkmas2023 — (Santa) suit kink and nude photography. this was cute to me, idk ‘bout y’all, like yeah, the sex, but Dean’s so cute in my imagination (and in the show). had clara oswald and danny pink in mind for this one, lmao XXX

“Merry Christmas, my love!” Dean exclaimed from the doorway of the kitchen. His girlfriend turned around, distractedly biting off the arm of a gingerbread man.

“You could’ve at least picked something sexy,” she snorted, turning away from him to bite the other arm of her gingerbread man. Dean pouted and made his way to her unenthusiastically.

“Well, guess what I’m wearing underneath,” he proposed excitedly with his hands on his hips. She didn’t turn around to look at him this time.

“Uh… your Scooby-Doo boxers?” She asked, grinning at the space in front of her before taking a bite of a gingerbread cookie’s leg. She knew that would make Dean whine more. “One of the hundred of black t-shirts you own, and uh… those ‘send noods’ socks, my fave,” she continued with a dreamy laugh. Dean sputtered.

“No,” he pouted adorably. She shrugged, mouth full, drinking warm coconut milk to help the cookie go down. Defeated, Dean’s frown deepened. “Nothing,” he whined, then stomped over to her, hoping she’d look at him. “Come on, admit it’s sexy,” he smiled cheekily, sitting on the table next to the small plate with crumbs and a gingerbread man that no longer had arms and legs.

She sighed playfully and then leaned back, eyes trailing from the top of his cute head to the bottom of his hot legs. She checked him out once more, contemplating his appearance: she stared at his thighs, the tent in the red, fluffy trousers, the tightness of the suit on him, the little bit of skin showing at his neck, the floppy red and white hat on top of his head.

She tried to give him what he wanted, to see the sexiness in his costume. But… she couldn’t help it, she smiled brightly at him. He was too damn adorable.

“Oh, come on!” He whined, then hastily undid the black belt around his waist, letting the coat fall open. She held her breath as she watched him, her eyes glued to his taut, hot body, and his warm, freckled skin. He bit his lip, and pulled his pants down to release his cock, and slowly started to jerk himself off.

That did it for her. Her stomach flipped and her pussy clenched, warmth spread over her face, her stomach, her cunt. She released a shaky breath as a wave of dampness ruined her underwear almost instantly.

Squeezing her thighs, she fumbled and checked her pockets for her phone to take a picture. Maybe a lot more than one. This was so hot and definitely worth being kept in the hidden photo album of explicit photos and videos of her and Dean.

When he saw it in her hands, he stopped touching himself and reached for the phone, but she snatched it away before he could snatch it away.

“Hey!” He complained. He thought she was going to ignore him and scroll through her phone instead.

“Shut up,” she grunted, which made his mouth shut instantly, “I’m trying to eat my gingerbread man and you want to seduce me… now deal with the fact that it worked.”

“You’re torturing the little man,” he stared down at the gingerbread man with an exaggerated frown. “But, hey, I ain’t complainin’ if you wanna take a few videos of me right now,” he grinned, going right back at it. “Did ya name him?” He asked, running his thumb over the tip of his leaking cock.

“Patrick,” she laughed softly, then stood up to find the perfect angle. It didn’t matter though, he looked good from all angles. She snapped a photo, kept tapping and tapping the red button to get as many as she could. Data storage be damned.

“Want some more frosting on Patrick?” He jested, but she was actually contemplating his offer. He cursed softly and watched her with hooded eyes.

She leaned down to collect the beads of precum at his tip with her tongue which made his body tense up, a loud moan erupting from his throat. She reached over and took a bite of her cookie, mixing the sweet and tangy flavour of her two favourite things. “Yummy,” she snickered, staring straight at Dean.

“Fuck,” he whispered, licking his lips.

“Maybe when you’ve got another load, you’re cumming inside me first.” She pushed her cup and the headless cookie to the far end of the table, close to the wall. “Fuck, actually… should I take a picture of you cumming on your hand first?” She stopped in the middle of lifting her shirt up, staring at him as he slowed the pace of his movements to stop his orgasm.

“No, later,” he decided for her, “please, get up here and ride me.” He begged, then shifted on the table to lie on his back, aware of the plate and cup she pushed against the wall when he placed the Santa hat with them. She snickered and lifted the top over her head. She wore no bra this morning and the sight of her breasts made him moan softly.

“Comfortable?” She asked, kicking her slippers off and then slid her leggings and underwear down in one swift pull.

“Just get up here,” he told her impatiently, reaching down to tug at his balls instead of jerking himself off. She laughed again and did as he asked. She climbed up the chair, made her way onto the table, and then sat on his lap, taking his hard cock in her hand.

“How are you making this work?” She teased, biting her lip, slowly stroking from base to tip. He instantly grabbed her hips, his red lips parted to release quick breaths as he brought her forward over his erect cock.

He shrugged, biting his lip and smiling cutely. “Please,” he begged again, urging her to take him. She playfully, teased her entrance with the tip of his cock, and stared down at him mischievously.

“Sam’s gonna get mad that we fucked on the table.” He knew she was stalling on purpose, getting him riled up. Her intentions were clearer when she reached for her phone again, and took a couple photos of his cock in her hand.

She stopped stroking his cock to focus on taking more photos. It frustrated him and he groaned, reaching between her legs. While she treated him like a sex model, leaning back in his lap to capture him at the best angle with her phone, he separated her folds and brushed his thumb against her clit.

His cock twitched when he brought two of his fingers to her entrance and an insane amount of slick met his fingertips. “Wow, it’s really workin’,” he chuckled, smiling up at her smugly. She rolled her eyes, lips parting when he pushed two fingers into her, meeting no resistance. “Please tell me you’re done, I wanna be inside you and feel all of this… wrapped around my dick,” he mumbled, pushing a third finger into her, then spread them apart inside her.

“Oh… fuck, Dean!” She moaned in surprise. Her phone tumbled out of her hand and rattled on the floor, but it didn’t break. She slammed both hands on his chest as her thighs shook on either side of his body as his fingers curled against the front of her walls.

“It’s Santa now,” he teased, pulling his soaked fingers out of her fluttering pussy to wrap it around his cock. She barely composed herself when he bucked his hips upwards, thrusting his cock into her swiftly.

She cried out again and buried her face into his neck, making a tight fist with both hands clenching around the red and white Santa jacket he wore. She moaned softly when he rolled his hips gently, soothing the amazing stretch of her cunt around him.

“Shit.. that was way too easy, babe,” he gasped, giving her ass a gentle swat. “You okay?” He murmured, kissing her temple. She nodded, her pussy fluttering needily around his cock. “Well…” he paused for a moment, reaching up to move her hair to one side, then lifted her mouth up to his. “What do you want for Christmas, sweetheart?” He mumbled against her lips, giving her a few loving pecks.

She kissed him lewdly, licking across his sugary lips and into his minty mouth with a hum. With a smirk, she replied, “a baby.”

His grip on her hair tightened and his cock twitched inside her. He pulled her off him with a sharp tug of her hair and stared at her face, stunned and aroused. “Don’t ask for something if you’re not serious about it…” he murmured, planting his black-leather-boot clad feet on the table.

“Who said I wasn’t serious?” She asked, placing her arm beside his head and laying her palm flat over his toned stomach.

“That shit-eating grin on your fuckable face.” Before she could get out a reply, Dean began to piston his hips up into her, clasping both hands on her hips roughly to keep her from moving.

With a surprised moan she pressed her forehead into her arm and wrapped her hand around one of Dean’s wrists, above his watch.

She panted heavily into his ear, occasionally moaning encouragements that made him fuck her harder. Her clit slapped delightfully against his pelvis with each thrust and upward grind. He focused on chasing her pleasure more than his own, angling her hips so he could press his cock into the front of her pussy, brushing repeatedly over her sweet spots.

“You want a baby?” He asked breathlessly, cock throbbing inside her velvety walls. He could feel her getting as close to her orgasm as he was, and continued to grind up against her after every thrust to stimulate her clit. “I’ll give you a baby,” he growled, latching his lips to her pulse.

With a sharp thrust and a hard bite, he came inside her with a grunt of her name against her neck. Hot cum pooled inside her and triggered her own orgasm. With a shuddering moan of Dean’s name, she took Dean's face lovingly into her hands and kissed him as he helped her ride out her orgasm.

Her kiss-swollen lips moved across his jaw, down his flushed neck and chest as they attempted to catch their breaths. Dean pulled her closer, his warm hands squeezing his favourite parts of her body that he could reach. Barely having caught their breaths, he mumbled, “I believe you need to let me eat your cookie now that I’ve delivered your gift. Santa’s gotta get a reward,” against her flushed cheek.

She moved away from his mouth and lifted a brow at the playful grin he gave her. “Do not call my vagina a cookie ever again,” she giggled, pushing up off his chest. Except he pulled her back down with his fingers around the back of her neck to peck her lips, once, then twice.

“Babe, please, I’m trying to be in the Christmas spirit,” he reasoned playfully with a nod, dimples on display with his puckered lips. He slid his hands down the curve of her back and stopped just shy of her ass, calloused hands caressing her soft skin.

She eyed him suspiciously and then dropped a lingering kiss on his forehead for cuteness. “Okay, I’ll let it slide… this time,” she smiled, then dropped doting kisses over his cheeks and nose.

“Right, but you have no problem with me referring to myself as Santa, hmm?” He muttered, feigning disappointment. Mischievously, she stopped her kisses before she could get to his mouth, hovering over his lips after kissing the corner of his mouth.

She pulled away as he waited for her kiss with a very subtle pucker of his lips and then, he had the audacity to pout again. “Be happy that I fucked you in this ridiculous costume at all,” she frowned, but her bright and amused eyes betrayed her serious face.

“This costume is not ridiculous, okay? You’re ridiculous…” he scoffed, moving his hands away from her hips to cross them over his chest defensively.

She bit back a smile and slid off his soft dick, which made him reach out for her to return with his lips parted to ask her to come back. Instead, she took his hands to balance herself as she climbed off the table and took her phone off the floor, his cum already starting to dribble out of her pussy.

She squeezed her legs together as she unlocked her cellphone to study the photos she took of Dean. “I’m gonna get these framed… or.. I’m making my own porn magazine with photos of you naked.. yeah, that’s a great idea,” she spoke to herself thoughtfully.

Dean blindly grabbed for the Santa hat, lifted his pants up, and slid off the table to wrap his arms around his naked girlfriend. He put the hat back on and dropped his chin on her shoulder to gaze at her phone.

“Only if you do the same for me,” he proposed bashfully, then slowly started moving his hands down between her legs. She smiled and parted her legs for him, but she didn’t expect him to send a slap over her sensitive clit.

He must have expected her reaction because he released her immediately and backed away when she jumped with a shout and turned to face him swiftly. She glared at him and walked towards him until the metal counter hit his back.

He licked his lip, trying to lean casually against the counter with his green eyes shining bright like shiny ornaments on a Christmas tree. He swallowed excitedly and smiled at her flirtatiously—that stupid smile he gave women when he tried picking them up or to get information out of them.

“I’m tying you up with the Christmas lights for that,” she threatened seductively, pressing herself up against his taut body. He bit his lip and carefully moved his hands to her ass to keep her close, then squeezed.

“Really?”

taglist

@rominaszh @livingdeadmak @lanassmarty @murdockscumsock @zepskies @candy-coated-misery0731 @stxrgazer03 @epsilonsagittarii @lyarr24 @spnfamily-j2 @globetrotter28 @deansbbyx @lickmybawls @jackles010378 @winchstrdean @deanwinchestersgirl87 @the-achievementhunter @deanfreakingwinchester @k-slla @madzzz0797 @laylaackles @fanfic-n-tabulous @kristophalis

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#dean x female!reader #dean x y/n #dean x you #dean x reader #dean winchester x you #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester smut #dean winchester fluff #dean winchester #12daysofspnkinkmas2023

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sandfordsmostwanted · 2 years ago

Text

No I don’t care about the new Velma series, but all these Scooby Doo posts have highlighted a deficiency in every Scooby Doo prequel idea. Yes, I’ve seen some amazing ideas for BFF Daphne and Shaggy content... ... but none for the untapped character goldmine of Freddie and Velma.

Like just picture it. The series is set in a American private school, where Velma is a POC scholarship kid, always looking to prove herself. She’s bullied relentlessly, but keeps her head down, because she’s getting into the Ivy League, damn it, and there’s no way these assholes are stopping her. She’s a whizz at anything to do with science and math and history and geography, but arts are a bit of a weakness, and she needs one more English credit to max out her resume. Her teacher offers her the opportunity to tutor another student to get the credit. The catch is it’s Fred Jones, the Dean’s son, and no-one can possibly find out. Velma’s initially pissed at having to spend so much time with this entitled brat. On the surface Fred Jones is everything you’d imagine him to be - a jock, a bro, loved by the ladies and part of the group that have always made Velma’s life hell. She dreads having to tutor him, until he turns up, and he’s genuinely appreciative and sweet. She doesn’t trust him; she’s been burned too many times before. But through the sessions they get to know each other better. They bond over their mutual love of engineering - Fred doesn’t have the technological vocabulary that Velma does, but he’s got an instinctive eye for when a mechanism would fail - and they both realise the other had more depths than they expected. Velma notices the bullies leave her alone now, and though she can’t thank Fred publicly, they share a few subtle smiles in the hallway. And then the plot of the series happens - a girl gets kidnapped from their school, and Velma’s on the case. She cancels her tutoring with Fred to sneak into the school to investigate. They run into hypercapable badass Daphne Blake and her emotional support Shaggy. Velma’s had a crush on Daphne for as long as she can remember, but her nerves make her even more snarky than usual, and the two spend most of their time bickering. Velma, Daphne and Shaggy also run into Fred in the school while they’re investigating; he left some sports stuff behind and came to retrieve it. Plot plot plot, meddling kids, mystery solved. Velma thinks everything’s going back to normal, but it doesn’t. Shaggy saved her a seat at lunch, and fills her tray with stuff he thinks she’ll enjoy (”And hey, you can sneak some of this in your pockets for when you’re at the library later!”) Daphne picks her first for her team in gym class. Fred tells his shitty mates to get fucked, and sits next to Velma in every class. And best of all, they start solving local mysteries together. As they become better friends, they learn more and more about each other. Fred tells Velma if she struggles with making eye contact with people to look at the bridge of their nose or over their shoulder, because that looks like you’re looking them in the eye without actually doing it. Velma tells Fred that “the writing swimming when you read” is called dyslexia, and types up their study notes in a easy to read font. Fred is the first friend Velma ever brings back to her tiny apartment than she shares with her parents, and he’s very appreciative of their home despite living in a straight up mansion himself. Velma learns that that mansion life isn’t all its cracked up to be. His parents work away a lot, and when they’re around, they’re shitty and waspy and make Fred feel small. Fred always texts Velma late at night telling her to stop studying and get some sleep, Velma always texts Fred to tell him to stop working out and get a snack. They’re fucking good for each other. It’s never romantic between them - never even close. Fred takes Velma’s coming out better than her parents did (”Why would I be upset that you like girls? Liking girls is great! I do it all the time!”) Velma tries her hardest not to be jealous when Fred and Daphne start dating - she never told him about her crush, and he’s not a mind reader. Who cares if she notices there’s chemistry between her and Daphne? She’s probably misreading the social cues, like usual. Besides, school’s nearly over now, and she’ll be off to college in a matter of weeks. Leaving it all behind her, just as she planned. Their final mystery is the biggest yet, and the only time the gang actually fear for their lives. The stress of the mystery, and the building resentment of Velma’s “I’m out of here” energy leads to a huge argument between Fred and Velma, and the gang splits four ways to try and solve this thing. Each of them face their own trial. Shaggy has to face his fear instead of running away. Daphne has to be herself without overcompensation with gadgets or gimmicks. She realises in this process that Velma is the one she’s always loved, and the two share a sincere kiss. Fred has to trust himself, and succeed by himself without the safety net of his family, his wealth or Velma. And Velma has to admit she needs her friends, and that she loves them deeply. The mystery is solved, and just like that, they’re all set to go their separate ways, this time for real. It’s the last day of finals. Velma hasn’t heard from Fred for almost a week now; her texts go unanswered. She knows he’s taking breaking up with Daphne harder than he’s letting on, though he’s happy Velma and Daphne are happy. She finishes her final paper and hands it in, thoughts of college in her mind as she stands on the school steps where it all began. A horn honks behind her. She turns. There’s a massive eyesore of a van parked outside. Velma didn’t even know you could get that many shades of neon green and blue, and the little orange flowers are wonky and she knows they’ve been painted by hand and with love. Daphne waves at her from the passenger’s seat, and Shaggy from the back. Fred is leaning against the Mystery Machine, twirling his keys in his hand. He’d traded the sleek, smart car his dad bought him and that he’s been driving all show for this new ride, and he asks if Velma feels like solving a mystery or two before heading off to college. Thus begins the adventures of Mystery Incorporated. (End credits song is “Life is a Highway” by Rascall Flatts because you know that’s white boy Freddie Jones’ favourite driving song)

#scooby doo #velma #velma dinkley #fred jones #freddie jones #daphne blake #shaggy rogers #norville rogers #scooby doo prequel #scooby doo meta #velma and daphne #hbo velma

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agaypanic · 3 months ago

Note

Could you do something with Hyde (actually, any t70s character if you think ot fits better) and the reader whos usually feels like a teacher's pet. But they see the reader at a batting cage or something. Sorry if that isn't a lot, happy requests are open again!!!

Wear a Helmet (Steven Hyde X Forman!Reader)

Masterlist

Request Something!

Summary: Steven Hyde thinks you’re nothing more than Eric’s sister, a try-hard, goody two-shoes teacher’s pet. But while taking a cruise around town, he sees a completely different side of you at a batting cage.

A/N: made reader eric’s sister bc idk it feels right to me. Idk how batting cages work

***

“Are you seriously doing homework right now?” Hyde asked, looking at your work from over your shoulder. Rolling your eyes, you ignored him. You should’ve known that you’d regret studying in the basement, but it felt like the best place at the time. You didn’t want to be cooped up in your room, your mom was busy gossiping in the kitchen while your dad read the newspaper, and you didn’t want to walk to the library.

Eventually, Hyde’s stare from behind his sunglasses broke your concentration. You turned to look at him. “I know that all you think about is lighting up Hyde, but some of us actually have a future to think about.” You patted his shoulder teasingly and went back to your work.

“It’s just a question, man.” He responded, throwing his hands up in defense while waltzing over to his chair, as if the tone of said question wasn’t judgemental. “Only asked because Scooby-Doo is on.”

“Unfortunately, I have more important things to do than watch the gang expose another guy in a mask.”

Hyde turned the TV on anyway, flipping to the aforementioned show. Although you did have more important things to do, you couldn’t help but glance up every couple of seconds to see what was happening.

Eventually, you had completely forgotten your work in favor of the show. You only realized how much time had passed when the episode ended, and you looked down to see that your homework was still half finished.

“Damn it.” You muttered, gathering your things. Clearly, trying to study in the basement was a bad idea. “I’m going to the library.”

“It’s seven PM,” Hyde replied, looking at his watch.

“I’ll get Eric to drive me.” And if he refused, you could just threaten to tell your parents about Donna sneaking into his room almost every night this week. “See ya.”

“Bye,” Hyde called out, reaching for the remote to change the channel. “Nerd.” He said under his breath.

“I heard that!”

***

When it had reached ten o’clock, Hyde started to get a little worried. Although, he’d never admit that out loud. You still weren’t back from studying, and your curfew was in half an hour. Part of him wondered if his distractions had pissed you off so much that you decided to leave home and not come back. You weren’t dramatic enough to go through with that though.

“Hey, Forman.” Hyde flipped through an old magazine to try to seem casual and uncaring. “Where’s your sister? Sneaking around with a guy or something?”

“Laurie or Y/n?” Eric asked, wondering why Hyde would be interested in either sister’s affairs.

“Y/n.”

“She’s at the library. Told me she would walk home.”

Hyde looked up from his magazine, which he threw on the table. He looked at Eric, completely unamused. “You’re letting your little sister walk around town this late at night? I wouldn’t even do that… I think.”

Eric rolled his eyes and stood up from the couch. “She’s almost eighteen, Hyde. And she said she’d call me if she needed a ride.” He started to walk up the stairs to the kitchen. “If you’re so concerned, you can pick her up.”

“Fine, I will,” Hyde replied, getting a little heated. The curly-headed boy fished his keys out of his pocket and went up the other basement stairs that led outside. After getting out of the backyard, Hyde settled into the El Camino. Just before he pulled out of the driveway and onto the street, he paused. “Where the hell is the library?”

***

The library ended up not being that difficult to find. What Hyde had difficulty locating was you. The library closed at nine, and it was now a quarter after ten. Hyde wasn’t one for walking, but he knew it couldn’t have taken you over an hour just to get home.

So he started searching.

Hyde drove all around town, peering out his window for a glimpse of you. He went to the Hub, the school, and even the water tower. Nothing.

When it was close to your curfew, he figured he should give up his search. You had to have been home by now; you were too much of a goody-goody to break curfew or any other rule. So Hyde turned the car around and started heading back home to the Formans.

“What the hell…?” Until he passed by the Point Place Family Fun Center and recognized your sweater. The wheels of Hyde’s El Camino squealed from how hard he turned to get into the parking lot. As he turned off the car and got out, he realized what you were doing. You were in one of the batting cages, swinging a bat at oncoming balls. Hyde didn’t know what was more shocking, the fact that you were batting balls or the fact that you didn’t miss a single one. “Y/n?”

At the call of your name, you turned and looked at Hyde, expression quickly going from startled to confused. “Hyde? What are you- Oof!”

Hyde ran to the cage and swung the door open, pulling you to the side while you rubbed your now slightly throbbing head. “You okay?”

“Why-” You wanted to ask Hyde what the hell he was doing here, but figured your possible head injury was the more important matter. Plus, it wasn’t often that Hyde seemed so concerned for your well-being, and you didn’t feel like ruining the rare moment. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

“Aren’t you supposed to wear a helmet or something?”

“It’s more fun without it.” You shrugged, setting your bat on the fence since you figured you wouldn’t be batting any longer tonight. “Besides, it makes my hair flat.”

“Right.” Hyde nodded, rolling his eyes, which you could barely see because of his sunglasses. Hyde was the only person you knew who wore sunglasses when there was no sun. “Maybe you should start wearing one. Don’t wanna break that big brain of yours. Besides, I think you’re starting to get a bump.”

Your hand flew to the side of your head, feeling around. “Say you’re lying, oh my god.”

Hyde smiled a little at your reaction. “What are you even doing here? I didn’t think baseball would be… your thing.”

You shrugged again. “It’s a good stress reliever, I guess. And I didn’t feel like going home after the library closed.”

He nodded in understanding before remembering why he was looking for you in the first place. “Speaking of home, I think you’re gonna miss curfew.”

“What?!” Hyde had never seen you react so quickly to something. You looked at your watch, confirming that you were five minutes away from possibly getting grounded, and ran to pick up all the balls that you hit so you could put them in the basket. When the cage was tidy, you grabbed your bag and the bat, ready to return it to the front desk and book it to the El Camino. “Hyde, start the car!” You yelled over your shoulder as you ran.

Hyde laughed as he watched your panicked speed. No matter how hard you could try to seem like a rebel, you’d always be Goody-Goody Forman.

#agaypanic #steven hyde x reader #steven hyde #that 70s show x reader #that 70s show #eric forman #laurie forman #kitty forman #red forman

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cameronspecial · 1 year ago

Note

I know we’re pass Halloween but I’ve had an idea.

Drew smut (only if your comfortable) where he and reader as a cute matching costume like Flynn and Rapunzel or daphne and Fred from scooby doo and they go to a party with all the cast members and he just can’t keep his hands to himself.

So when they finally get home they get freaky lol on the island in the kitchen and he lifts up her dress/skirt cause he can’t wait anymore and it’s so hot but cute.

Drewbie Doo, Where Are You?

Pairing: Drew Starkey x Reader

Warnings: DARK SMUT and Swearing.

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 1.6K

Masterlist

Y/N loves costume parties and dressing up for them. She always goes all out for them, coming up with creative spins on classic costumes. Like right now, Y/N and Drew are dressed up as Daphne and Fred, but with the twist that they are both serial killers. The idea came to her mind as she was looking through different costume inspirations and she saw a couple dressed as Ghostface and one of his victims. The girl’s white dress is stained red with the red handprint of her boyfriend and the idea stuck to Y/N. She knew Drew wanted to dress as Daphne and Fred, so she decided they could combine their two wants. This is how she finds herself giggling while Drew covers his hand in the fake blood she bought from the costume store. His hand rounds her body and brings it down to her bum. He gives her ass cheek a squeeze, causing her to let out a yip in surprise. He smirks down at her and brings his bloody hand to her cheek to smear some red on it. His hand brings her lips to his. They pull apart from each other and look at themselves in the mirror.

The red of his handprint stands out against her purple long-sleeved dress, which she admires with a little wiggle of her butt. He lets out a chuckle at her action, giving her a small spank. She jumps forward a little bit and giggles, “Come on, we are going to be late for the party.” “Darling, I don’t know if we are going to make it to Madeline’s party with how your ass is brandishing my handprint on it. It shows everyone that you are mine,” he growls, pulling her in by the green scarf around her neck. She steps out of his reach and picks up her fake knife, “As much as I would love to stay home and let you fuck me. Madeline will kill us if we skip out on her party.”

——

Everyone’s costumes looked stunning. Madison is wearing a fairy costume and Madeline appears to be dressed for the 1950s. Rudy seems to be the back half of a cow and Y/N can only guess that Elaine is the front half. Chase is dressed as Woody while JD is Buzz Lightyear. She spots Carlacia dressed as Barbie, talking to someone Y/N doesn’t recognize. Seeing other people’s costumes is one of Y/N’s favourite things about dress-up events. Squeals pull Y/N out of her observations and she turns her head to see Madeline running towards them. “You guys look so good, but you are late,” she scolds, twirling Y/N around to admire the costume. “You naughty girl. Is that Drew’s handprint?” Y/N’s head bows down and Drew brings her to his side by her waist. “Damn, right, it’s my handprint. Who else do you think it is?” he grumbles, resting his hand back down to her bum where the print is.

“God, you are so possessive of her. Now, I know why you guys were late. You guys were probably having sex,” Madeline comments. “She wouldn’t let me,” he whispers under his breath as Madeline goes off to greet more guests. Y/N swats Drew’s chest, “Really? Did you have to say that?”

——

Drew couldn’t keep his hands off of Y/N throughout the night. As she talks to the various castmates, Drew’s hands roam around her body, leaving a trail of fake blood all over her purple dress. He begs her to go home, whispering in her ear all the naughty things he wants to do with her. The final straw that breaks the camel's back is when she is standing in the kitchen and she is pouring herself a drink. Drew comes up from behind her, the strain of his dick pressing perfectly into the dip of her buttcrack. “Feel what you do to me, Darling? I could be making you feel so good right now,” he mutters into her ear. His hand moves up to her breast, staining the fabric of her dress as he cups it. She takes his wrist into hers and drags him out of Madeline’s house.

——

They close the door in a frenzied kiss. It only gets locked when Drew begrudgingly pulls away from her. She is about to make her way to their bedroom, but he stops her by grabbing her wrist and bringing her to his chest. She lets him waddle them to the kitchen, where he pushes her hips into the counter. One of his hands keeps her pushed into the surface and his other goes to pull off the ascot from his neck. He takes both of her wrists in one hand, tying them together with his orange scarf. He shoves her back down onto the counter, so her elbows meet the cold granite and her wrists are in front of her. Drew's mouth meets the shell of her ear, “See if you had let us leave earlier in the night, then you would have gotten sweet and passionate Drew. The Drew that lets you cum. But since you didn’t, you are going to take what I give you like the good little slut you are.”

She has to stop herself from moaning out at his words and the way his front is pressing up against her back. She knows her noise will only darken his mood if she lets them out without his permission. He knows she secretly loves it when he gets this way. Foreplay is not an option as he just needs to feel her walls close in around his dick. He unbuttons his pants and tugs his pants down just enough so he can pull himself out of his briefs. He doesn’t even wait to take her clothes off. He lifts the bottom of her dress just enough so that he can rip her thong off of her. She lets out a quiet gasp at the feeling of her underwear being torn off.

He shushes her, kissing the back of her neck which is exposed by her hair falling to one shoulder. His tip finds her pussy and he gives her no time to process it before he slams into her. She can’t adjust to his size because he begins his harsh thrusts at an unforgiving pace. Luckily, she is already wet enough from their party antics to lessen the friction. She tries her best to keep quiet as he brings his dick in and out of her. “Go on, Darling. Let me hear how good I’m making you feel,” Drew orders, pulling at the scarf around her neck so that her back presses against his chest. She obeys his command, crying out about how much she loves his cock. His pace keeps going and she feels like he is trying to fuck her into the kitchen island. His lips find their way to her neck. He nibbles a hickey on her skin, loving the melody coming out of her mouth. He can feel her tightened walls around him. He lets out a low laugh, “Tell me you're sorry for not letting us stay home. Tell me we should’ve stayed home and let me fuck you like a good girl. And then maybe I’ll let you cum.”

His hips have stopped moving and he is still inside of her while he waits for her pleas. She tries to bring his hand up to her throat, but she forgets her hands are tied. He smirks down at her attempts and brings his big hands around her throat, squeezing gently around it. Knowing he will love to hear her breathy voice, she calls out, “I’m sorry for being a whore and not letting us stay home because I wanted everyone to see me in my slutty costume. I’m sorry you didn’t let you have sex with me sooner.”

His dick twitches inside of her at her words and he knows he doesn’t have long to make her climax before him. His forceful thrust picks up again and the hand around her neck goes to her clit. He starts rubbing her bud in quick circles. Her moans and his groans mix with the slapping of their skin and they are slowly being brought to the edge. Her bound hands reach above her to the other side of the island, so she has something to grip as her pussy swallows Drew in a tighter hold. She orgasms with a scream of his name and he follows soon after her. His cum shoots into her in ropes as he fucks her through their high. He collapses onto her, smushing her breasts against the granite. His head falls to wear he bites a hickey into her skin and kisses up and down her neck. His hands reach up to untie his orange scarf from her wrist. She brings her wrist over her shoulder so he can kiss the forming bruises. He slowly slips his flaccid penis out of her, bringing her up to stand straight. She turns around in his arms and rests her head on his chest. The thump of his heartbeat starts to slow down.

His lips find her temple, “I hope I wasn’t too hard on you, Darling. I know you didn’t use our safeword, but I didn’t even eat you out first.” She shakes her head against him and kisses the exposed part of his chest. “No, Baby. It was perfect. Like you,” she mumbles, still a little groggy from her release. His fingers run through her hair, “Good. I love you, Darling.”

“I love you too, Baby.”

Taglist: @loves0phelia

#drew starkey #drew starkey x reader #drew starkey imagine #drew starkey fanfiction #drew starkey smut

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adverbally · 1 month ago

Text

Here Comes the Really Scary Part

Written for the @steddie-spooktober day five prompt “‘Did you hear that?’” | wc: 747 | rated: T | cw: none | tags: making out, suspense, scary movies, Wayne Munson cameo | title from “It’s Terror Time Again” by Skycycle (from the 1998 cinematic masterpiece Scooby-Doo on Zombie Island)

———

Steve will be the first to admit that his hearing isn’t the best. It amuses the kids to no end, since it makes him easy to startle and allows them to conspire with Steve right there in the room. Robin complains that she can’t whisper to him and that his attempts to whisper back are always louder than he thinks.

His hearing is especially bad when he’s distracted. Like right now, sitting against the wall behind Eddie’s bed, with Eddie straddling his thighs and kissing him with a single-minded determination. The stereo is playing one of Eddie’s newer albums, one Steve can’t tune out as easily because he isn’t familiar with it yet. Plus the wind is whipping outside, whistling past the windows and sending tree branches knocking against the roof of the Munsons’ new house.

Still, somehow, beneath all the other noises rattling around in Steve’s brain, he catches a loud slamming sound coming from outside.

It’s a Herculean effort to pull away from Eddie, but Steve manages, asking breathlessly, “Did you hear that?”

“No.” Eddie barely takes a second to respond before he’s diving back in and licking the backs of Steve’s teeth.

As much as Steve tries to refocus on the beautiful man grinding against his lap, now he knows what to listen for. That’s probably the only reason why he hears what follows— a series of rhythmic thumps, quieter than the slam but lasting longer, slowing and fading out after a few seconds.

“Wait,” he hisses, holding Eddie in place with two hands on his face while he tries to keep an ear out for the next noise.

Eddie rolls his eyes. “I didn’t even hear anything. It’s probably the wind, babe.” Humoring Steve, he leans over to the bedside table to lower the volume on the stereo.

Then the unmistakable creak of the storm door outside filters down the hallway, and Steve and Eddie give each other alarmed looks. Wordlessly, Eddie scrambles out of Steve’s lap and towards the door. It’s just like him, always throwing himself headfirst into trouble. Steve can’t help but follow.

As they peek around the corner of the hall to watch the front door, the knob jiggles, almost in warning. They can just make out the scrape of metal on metal, like a key in the lock.

“Is that the wind?” Steve asks, a little hysterically.

“What should we do?” Eddie whisper-screams, just as the door lurches open…

…revealing a very confused Wayne Munson, frowning at the boys screaming at him from the hallway.

“Ed,” Wayne sighs, shrugging out of his jacket as he kicks the door closed behind him, “ya gotta stop watching those scary movies after dark if you’re gonna get all jumpy.”

Eddie sputters and points an accusing finger at Steve. “He’s the one who was getting jumpy!”

“You’re the one who ran off like you were trying to become the killer’s first victim!” Steve argues, face flushed with embarrassment. Damn his selective hearing and the creepy movie he and Eddie had watched earlier, making him look like a dumb kid in front of his boyfriend’s uncle.

“What killer?” Wayne looks between them as he tries and fails to follow their logic.

Eddie turns on him, looking furious. “And you! Why are you sneaking around like you’re trying to break into your own house?”

“Lord give me strength,” Wayne mutters, looking heavenward before turning back to his nephew. “I just came in the house like I always do.”

“Sorry, Mr. Munson,” Steve mumbles sheepishly.

Eddie glares at Steve for a second before following his lead. “Sorry, Wayne. We got carried away, I guess.”

“Well, no harm done, except for you scaring yourselves.” Wayne hangs up his coat and kicks off his work boots. “I’m gonna heat up some leftovers and go to bed. Steve, are you spending the night?”

“Yes, sir, if you don’t mind.”

Wayne’s smile is mischievous as he heads for the kitchen. “Good, then Ed can wake you up if he has nightmares.”

Eddie’s jaw drops. “Wayne!” he cries after him in mortification.

“Hey, you know I’ll never make fun of you for having nightmares,” Steve reassures him quietly with a kiss to his temple. “Even if they’re about the movie you picked.”

“Yeah, well, we’ll see how brave you are at three in the morning.” Eddie grumbles but lets Steve pull him back to his bedroom with an arm around his waist. They’re definitely sleeping with a light on tonight.

#steddiespooktober #steddie #steddie fic #steve x eddie #steve/eddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #mine

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random-imagines-blog · 1 year ago

Text

Imagine being Jonathan Crane’s perky goth girlfriend.

You were not what people expected when Jonathan showed up with you on his arm, as his plus one to different charity events to help the asylum. Even though most people had an inkling that he was into the darker things in life, preferring black for his clothing above all else, you took it a little far sometimes.

Jonathan was naturally tall, lanky some would say, and you often seemed like you were trying to emulate that with the platformed boots that you wore, but damn did you wear them well, not even tripping on stairs, and still finding a way to bounce on your heels when you saw something that excited you. You got excited often, like right now, at this party at Bruce Wayne’s manor.

“Can you just imagine turning this into a haunted house?” You said, ringed fingers covering your mouth as you looked around. It had the atmosphere - it might even have the ghosts, considering what had happened to the Wayne patriarch and matriarch. “Lots of spooky cobwebs, oh, you could put like robotic parts inside of that suit of armor so that it walks on its own. There’s enough doors, you could pull a whole Scooby Doo in here.”

Jonathan fought back the smile. You were so perky, especially whenever you thought about Halloween. It was the beginning of Summer, but here you were, planning for the months ahead. “I can think of a way to make it particularly spooky,” He whispered to you, making you smile. Your hand took hold of his, and he did a little spin with you, showing you the rare bit of affection in front of polite society.

“I know you do,” You winked, still having to stand on your tip toes in the platform boots to kiss his jaw. “You could make it downright fangtastic.”

“It has to be said, I do enjoy a good vampire,” Jonathan nodded, preparing himself to greet the owner of the asylum who was coming in closer. “But I prefer the scarecrow,” He said, bringing forth a conspiratorial grin on your lips.

You eagerly took the hand of the Director when he approached, and shook it to the point where the jewelry around your neck and wrist were jingling. “Hi, so nice to see you again!” You greeted pleasantly. That was another thing that people never expected. That beneath all of the black clothes and the make up that they already judged you for, you were just a kind person, never sneering at others or trying to scare them off. That was Jonathan’s job, after all.

Requested by: @teh-vampire-bunny

#Jonathan Crane #Jonathan Crane x reader #Jonathan Crane imagines #Scarecrow #Scarecrow x reader #Scarecrow imagines #x reader #imagines #request #jonathanc #DC #DC imagines

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romana-after-dark · 1 year ago

Text

Guard Dog

Riader!Joel Miler x Dark!fem!reader

Masterlist : Taglist

Summary: Joel attempts to raid the wrong house, and having the Joel Miller on his knees before awakens something in you... and in him.

Content and Warnings: DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT Dub con on Joel (Is it non con? idk. Idk how im supossed to tag this but it's no where near the violence of tww someone help), references to non con from Joel to other women, gun sucking, fem domme, dark!reader but Joel is also dark soooooo, subby Joel, dead bodies, Nick reference (if you read TWW you know lol), multiple orgasms, overstim, dumbification?

AN 1: This essentially came of two thoughts, me thinking hmmmm how to write raider!Joel in a new way? 2. I want to avenge Little One. Joel did her so dirty and is still doing her so dirty in the dark timeline addition, lowkey wanted someone to get revenge for her. Plus, subby Joel is always a win for Fen and Maura lol

AN 2: Shout outs to @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin and @toxicanonymity for talking me through this idea, esp Toxi for letting me use the gun blowjob bit lololol if you like that concept, I encourage everyone to check out toxi's raider joel Or maybe Jake's part in the chasing series

***********************

Whoever it was, they had chosen to raid the wrong fucking house.

Yes, you were a single woman. Yes you lived alone. But no, you were not helpless, far from it, actually. Whoever it was is lucky they had made it past the set of boobytraps thus far. Actually, it sounded like a few of them had been taken out as it was.

Joel watched in relief as the arrow went through Nick’s skull. Relief it wasn’t him. He never liked Nick that much anyway, real creepy guy. In fact, he didn’t like any of the men that this house had gotten either. It was exhausting, trying to lead a group of dumbasses and whatever the fuck was in here it wasn’t worth it, so Joel attempted to make his exit. Thing was, leaving was proving just as hard as entering was. Whoever lived here didn’t want anyone living to tell the tail. Stepping over the dead bodies of a few of his men, Joel had narrowly dodged more arrows, spikes, darts; the whole lot, until some secret fucking door opened up like a goddamn scooby-doo house and there you were, gun to his forhead.

“Joel fucking Miller, I’ll be damned.”

Joel narrowed his eyes. He didn’t recognize you, but you knew him. That wasn’t surprising, he’d gained a bit of a reputation from raiders, fireflies and regular people. “Who the hell are you?”

You tell him your name, first name at least, and make quick work of taking out the gun in his hand. “Armed with anything else, Miller?” He said he wasn’t, but you knew that was a lie. “Don’t believe that for a second.”

“Then why the hell did you ask?” His texan drawl was prominent, especially when he was worked up.

“More fun to mess with you.” Keeping the gun pressed up to his temple, you press your body against his in turn as you pat him down for more weapons. It didn’t hurt that he was handsome.

“JESUS!” Joel jumped as you grabbed at his ass. “Watch your fucking hands.”

You can’t help but giggle; he thinks he's in charge. “You could be hiding weapons anywhere-” He tenses as you slip your hand between his buttcheeks as much as his jeans allow. “-Can’t be too careful.”

Joel was a brutal man, you heard stories of his rage and carelessness for human life, including women. There’d been many such stories of him forcing himself on women, kidnapping and trafficking… maybe he needed a taste of his own medicine? You take your time on his top half, feeling up every muscle, every bit of pudge, every dip on his broad body. Then, onto the lower. Without hindrance, you grope at his crotch and are very impressed by the size of him; and amused by the way he’s already semi-hard. Men are so easy, it’s funny sometimes.

“This make you excited, Miller? Or does it scare you to be at a woman’s mercy for once? Maybe a little bit of both?”

Joel didn’t look at you, lips pursed in a hard line.

You continue, moving the gun to his pants as you kneel before him to check lower. “I bet this is more your speed isn’t it? Having a pretty woman on her knees?”

The scoff above you doesn’t go unnoticed. “Mighty full of ourselves, aren’t we?”

After taking a knife and a gun that were strapped to his ankle, you stand up, satisfied with your work and the ever-growing bulge in his pants. “I own a mirror, Miller. I know what I got going on.” Degrading won’t work on you. With a nudge, you press him towards your room.

“Yuh gonna kill me?” There was no fear in his voice when he asked. This was a man prepared for death whenever it came.

“We’ll see. Gonna have a little fun with you first.”

Having Joel Miller on his knees for you was a goddamn treat. He looked so good like this, so submissive even if his bratty little face wanted to put on a show.

“It’s natural, you know.” With a glance down, you let him know that you are referencing his half-hard cock. “The adrenaline.” You squat in front of him. “How many girl came when you forced yourself on them? How many felt their bodies betray them? Did you laugh at them for getting wet?”

“I didn’t-”

“It’s humiliating, isn’t it?” Your gun was still out, knowing physically he could probably overpower you still. You weren’t weak by any means, but you also were aware he had far more upper body strength, muscles bulging through the seem of his shirt sleeves. The cool end of the gun prodded at his face as he tried to keep calm; the bob of his adam's apple and subtle rise of his chest was giving away his nerves. It was exhilarating, having a man that many feared, the cause of death of so many men, someone of damn-near legendary status and his knees for you… You couldn’t help the reaction the thrill had in pooling in your stomach. It was natural, wasn’t it? That’s what you told Joel.

Using the gun, you move his face around a bit to really take in his features. Strong nose, curly salt and pepper hair, soft brown eyes and lips you just really wanted to make whimper.

“Your quite handsome, you know that?”

An ironic chuckle. “I have a mirror too, sweetheart.”

You can’t help smiling at him as you straighten back up. “Take off your shirt.”

He rolled his eyes but did as he was told.

“Obedient thing, aren’t you? Bet I could train you, bet that’s what you need, isn’t it?” You slip your hand in your pants, feeling up your own wet cunt as the thrill of power elevates things. “Tired of having to decide, having to lead…” Maybe the adrenaline was getting to you, but you suddenly wish you had a dick to make him suck. You don’t, so you settle for the next best thing. You tap his lips witht he barrel of the gun. “Open.”

Joel hesitates, a slight spark of fear in his pretty eyes as he keeps his lips tightly closed, and that just won't do. You slap his cheek with the gun, and as grunts in pain the seal of his lips pops open.

“Ah-mph” His cry of pain was quickly muffled by the gun being shoved in his mouth.

“Suck on it, cowboy. Act like you fucking enjoy it.”

You don’t think he needs to act. Joel sucks on your gun like he would a dick and you furiously finger yourself to his rhythm. As he closes his eyes, you can hear a low groan emitting from his throat and his hands twitching at his side.

“Touch yourself, go ahead.”

He didn’t need to be told twice, his right hand flying to the seam of his pants and palming at his full erection.

“Good boy, good fucking boy” You praise. “Just an obedient little dog pretending to be a lone wolf. Is that it? You just want someone to tell you what to do, huh?” You release the gun from his mouth and can’t help but grin as his lips chase it.

“Y-yes.” Joel admits, face strained in tension as he kept touching himself. Must hurt, being constrained like that.

“Take it out. Eyes on me.” You guide his face to look up at you with the tip of your gun. “Look in my eyes as you do it.”

As he released himself, Joel did indeed look up at you; he looked up at you as if you made the stars in the sky.

Once his cock was out, all 9 or so inches, you take off your sleep shorts and straddle over him but not yet putting it in. “I don’t think I need this gun anymore… but I think you like it.” When you sink down on him, gun pressed to his ribs as a firm reminder of who was in charge, you hold your breath in order to hear the simple whimpers and guttural groans that Joel tried so hard to hide.

“This is where you belong, isn’t it?” You goad him, eliciting a quiet ‘yes’ from his lips. “Under me, belong to me.”

You are speared on him, his dick spreading you open and stretching you unlike anything you had felt before and you loved it. Every chance you had, you felt his muscles, reveling in the fact such a physically strong man was so mental weak for you and only you.

“Can I cum? Please?” Joel begged for you, pleaded ever, lips quivering even as you kissed him.

“Almost there, baby, almost- mmmm- almost there. You can cum after me, okay?”

Joel nodded quick, tiny nods and hesitantly moved a hand to your hips. He looked up at you bouncing on his cock for permission, and when you nod back he goes to thumb at your clit.

“OH GOD!” You shout, breathless, slick all over your thighs and his pants, his touch sending you over the edge. You cum hard, walls pulsing all around him and he doesn’t ask again before spilling his seed inside you, filling you to the brim.

Your body relaxes, but then Joel throws you to the ground causing you to drop your gun and for a moment you thought he bested you, got you distracted; until he dove right into your cunt with no regard for the lost gun. He didn’t care about beating you, he cared about tasting you. As he desperately licked his cum out of your dripping hole, you tugging at his curls, Joel humped the floor as if he hadn’t just gotten released. You pull him close, riding out another orgasm on his face. When you cum a third time, you have to push him back, the overstimulation from the desperate man’s tongue, lips and beard being too much. When you do, he looks up at you with wide eyes as if he had done something wrong, but you pull up and into a kiss before laying him down on the floor to kiss him some more.

“Not sure if I wanna let go of you, cowboy…” You tease, playing with his hair but keeping him firmly pressed to the ground. “Might have to keep you around, but my little guard dog, how about that?”

Joel’s eyes were glossy, his face so fucked out you weren’t sure he was fully cognizant. “Baby boy too tired to speak? That’s okay, I’ll take care of you too. You be the arms; I’ll be the brains. You won’t have to have a single thought outside me again, okay?”

***********

Part 2 here

LOWKEY NERVOUS BC THIS IS SUCH A DIFFERENT JOEL AND HE DOESNT DO A LOT OF TALKING?!?!?!?!?!??! UNSURE HOW I FEEL

Anyway I do hope to write more maybe? so if you wanna be tagged comment below! I liek the idea of having a joel I can kinda just write stuff about whenever instead of a story and an arch and characters to balance. This is just more casual. and i dont gotta go nuts keepingup with posting like my other stories. Im think a v joel tess kinda vibe where she's clearly leading him

I was supossed to be working on the next part to my Javi P x reader x Santi AU buuuutttttttttttt I couldnt get this idea out of my head. So. here you all go! I'll try and work on that, the dark! TF boys, TWW, and the Will Miller story lol its kinda a lot rn

Please consider reblogging and commenting to support your fav writers <3

@fandxmslxt69 @moriartyyouwhore @hereforthepedrofanfic @alwaysmicado @noisynightmarepoetry @morallyinept @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin @the-fox-den @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @k-ra

If you'd like to join the dark! taglist, click here! this is different from my regular taglist on my main account

If you'd like to join only on this tag list, comment below

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rainderthesomeone · 7 months ago

Text

Images you can hear.

Soldier: Engie there is an exit straight ahead do not stop running forward, use those tiny legs god has given you!

Spy: Soldier you buffoon there is no exit that way! you don't even know where you are going! laborer listen to me and turn left now!

Pyro's head: this is fun :D , why is everyone yelling?

Scout: OH GOD ITS BEHIND US, OH GOD OH GOD, HARD HAT DO NOT STOP RUNNING PLEASE DO NOT STOP RUNNING AH-

Sniper's head: were gonna die, were gonna die were gonna die-

Demo: Ach Soldier sit down now and stop yelling at Engineer let Spy handle this!

Miss Pauling: Hey Engie not to uh stress you out or anything but uh...ITS RIGHT BEHIND US! KEEP MOVING KEEP MOVING KEEP MOVING!

Heavy: This dose not look good, don't worry doktor Heavy's got you!

Medic: AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH-

Engineer: I CANT SEE A DAMN THING FROM HERE! SOLDIER SIT DOWN NOW! MEDIC STOP YELLING I CANT HEAR SPY! EVERYONE HOLD ON TIGHT!

this was fun to make ive wanted to do a scooby doo type comic with the mercs and pauling seems fun ngl lol

anyway what do you hear when you look at this image?

#tf2 #team fortress 2 #tf2 spy #tf2 sniper #tf2 engineer #tf2 scout #tf2 soldier #tf2 demoman #tf2 medic #tf2 heavy #tf2 pyro #tf2 miss pauling #tf2 gmod #gmod tf2 #gmod art #tf2 shitpost #scooby doo

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shelbgrey · 10 months ago

Note

Hello, I love your fics, could you do one with James Aubrey smut? please

Unspoken desire(James Aubrey)

Paring: James Aubrey x Booth!Reader

Summary: James Aubrey and y/n booth always gets on each other's nerves, but it's everything but hate. When they are forced to go undercover together some piped up feeling are finally released.

Warrings: SMUT! Female reader, fingering, counter sex, unprotected sex, rough-ish sex.

MasterList

“undercover, seriously?” I asked, as I sat down in front of my brother and Temperance.

“Well it's likely that the suspects are the participants” Seeley responded as he handed me the file for the victim and old western joint I was supposed to be undercover at.

“and 85% if the competitors are repeat guests” Temperance added.

“why aren't you guys doing it? Undercover is your thing” I said as the waitress brought our food.

“Hank has a doctor's appointment and Booth is going to Christine's field trip” Temperance said as I popped a fry in my mouth.

I sighed, I belonged in the Lab not undercover. “Who's going with me?”

“Aubrey” Booth said as he lifted his coffee mug.

“No” I said quickly and pointed at my older brother. “your not doing this to me”

Me and Aubrey never got along. I hated everything about him, his voice, the fact his appetite is bigger than scooby-doo, his adorable smile…

Wait…

“why? What's wrong with Aubrey” Booth asked.

“he annoying and we don't get along”

“By the way you refuse to make eye contact and the blood rushing to your cheeks, I find it hard to believe you dislike Aubrey,” Temperance said matter of factly. I rolled my eyes playfully.

~~~~~~~~(.......)~~~~~~~~

“I can't believe I'm doing this,” I mumbled to myself as I put on a cowboy hat. I kept a low profile as I walked through what looked like the set for Tombstone or young guns. I walked around trying to find Aubrey.

I walked into the tavern full of western people. It was jam packed with cowboys and beer. I looked around silently till my eyes landed on Aubrey, he was sporting cowboy boots and a hat. I hated how my eyes traveled down his body. The Wranglers he had on framed his body in the best way possible, leaving no room for the imagination. Then the button up he wore, framed his chest showing the muscles on his chest. Speaking of muscles, sleeves of his button up were rolled up to his elbows, showing his arm muscles.

I tried to shake the dirty thoughts out of my mind and walked into the tavern with my head held up high. I looked around the tavern, trying to find something out of the ordinary. I hated it, it smelled like beer and it felt stuffy from all the shouting and laughing wanna be cowboys.

“What are you doing here?” a voice said firmly, Aubrey stood behind me. I shivered at how low his voice got, I could feel his breath on the back of my neck.

“undercover, same as you” I stated and pulled myself together before turning around to face him. Damn, he looked better up close.

What was that saying? Save the horse ride the Cowboy

“We need to solve a murder, remember?” I said, crossing my arms. I definitely didn't miss the way his eyes traveled down my body. I would have pointed it out, but it wouldn't be fair. No one likes a hypocrite.

Aubrey rolled his eyes and grabbed my bicep, I felt a certain way when he grabbed me like that. He had frustration and fire in his eyes as he led me out of the building. He didn't say anything as he dragged me to the back of the tavern and pushed me up against the side of the building. My breath hitched as he left very little room between us. He pressed his palms against the building, caging me in.

“I don't need this, we're solving a murder not playing dress up”

I smirked and grabbed the massive western theme buckle that was attached to his belt, I pulled him closer by it. “trust me, your enjoying this a lot more than you should”

“don't patronize me” he pushed himself off the building, breaking the little space we had between us.

“and don't get yourself into trouble” he said and walked away, leaving me behind the building with my pounding heart.

~~~~~~~~(.......)~~~~~~~~

“what are you doing?” I jogged up to Aubrey, he had a determined look on his face and he looked like he wasn't gonna slow down anytime soon. “the lab identified the murder weapon and the who bought”

“Good, let's go get ‘em” I said, Aubrey immediately stopped in front of me, pointing his finger at me. “no. Your gonna stay back and watch out for anything else the seems suspicious”

I rolled my eyes and crossed my arms. “Come on!”

“I'm serious” he said sternly, his gray eyes staring me down intently.

“Stop him!” a voice shouted in the distance, making the both of us whip around. The guy Angela IDed came running out of the tavern. Aubrey ran after him and instead of listening to him and ran behind the tavern so we could corner the guy. I ran around the comer and jumped onto the guy, talking him to the ground. We rolled around a dusty mess until I got him flat on his stomach and his hands pinned behind his back.

“Damit y/n! I told you to stay put” Aubrey snapped and quickly put the handcuffs on the guy before tugging him onto his feet.

“yeah and guess what, I got to him before you did!”

Aubrey gave me a hard stare before taking the suspect into a isolated room to stay in until Booth came and got him.

Booth came in record time and stared his interrogation with the suspect. Me and Aubrey watched Booth walk into the room with the guy and as soon as the door was closed, Aubrey grabbed my bicep, forcing me to follow him into an empty building that looked like a smaller version of the tavern we were in this morning. He locked the door and turned to me with fire in his eyes.

“You sit here and listen to me!” James huffed, I moved off the counter only to get picked up and put on the counter again. “You're the most obstinate, stubborn, ornery, impossible girl I ever met! You just won't admit there's another side, my side! You know why?” the more he ranted the closer his face got to mine, my breath hitched when I felt his breath fan against my skin.

“Because you're unreasonable!” he said, I rolled my eyes and tried to move again “Sit still!” he huffed and pushed me against the counter, this time he pressed his palms on either side of me, caging me in. He leaned in closer, his chest heaving and his blue eye staring into my soul. “You're argumentative, mulish, uncooperative - unbelievable”

He stopped his nose barley brushing against mine. My heart pounds at how close we were. If I wasn't so stubborn I would have pulled him closer so there was no space between us. If I wasn't so stubborn I would have ran my fingers through his dark hair.

James huffed, keeping his intense gaze. “And You don’t know how beautiful you are.” he breathed, his lips barely touching mine, The words were soft but firm, leaving no room for doubt. His free hand slid around my waist, pulling me closer against his hard length.

My breath hitched at how hard he was against my thigh and my eyes widened when he called me beautiful.

“You know it's true.” His hand slid up my arms, tracing along your neck and into your hair. "I've been trying so hard not to notice, but you're just... everything”

Feeling bold, I grabbed the collar of his shirt and pulled him closer to me. I smashed my lips against his for a heated rough kiss. James groaned into the kiss, his body melting up against mine. I shivered as I felt one of his hands slide up my spine, gripping my hair tightly as he deepened the kiss. The other hand moved lower, squeezing my hip possessively.

I started unbuttoning his shirt as I kissed down his jaw line. He moaned in pleasure and I ran fingers down his chest. He brought my lips to his again, sucking my bottom lip between his teeth. He kissed my neck and led down to my shoulder, where he lightly bit. I moaned in pleasure.

“God, you're beautiful.” He pushed some hair out of my face, staring into my eyes before pulling my shirt over my head. His head dipped and he started to kiss the tops of my breasts and down my stomach. My breath hitched as he pushed me down so I was lying flat on the counter and started to unbutton my pants. We locked eyes and I laid there in anticipation.

He took off my cowgirl boots at a rushed pace and practically ripped my jeans off of my body and started kissing up my legs. He trailed himself over my panties, thick with arousal. Then, he started up my stomach again, causing me to bite my lip.

He holsted himself up on the counter and slowly crawled up my body to meet my lips again, this time more urgent. I got goosebumps as his hands roamed over my skin, his touch possessive and hungry. The kiss deepened as our bodies grinding together in an erotic dance. He broke the kiss only to whisper, "You're so damn irresistible.”

“I can't help it,” he murmured, his lips brushing against my Neck. “You drive me wild.” His hands slid down my hips, my breath hitched as his hand slipped under my panties, teasing my sensitive flesh. "You make me lose control.”

I let out a moan, bucking my hips against his hand. “Oh fuck…” He muttered before his mouth claimed mine in a searing kiss. His hand slid between my thighs, finding my entrance. "So wet for me..." he growled against my lips.

I let out a soft moan, running my fingers through his hair “j-james…”

James groaned, his fingers tracing circles around my entrance. My eyes fluttered closed as the pleasure and his teasing invaded all my senses. His other hand moved to my breast, massaging it gently as he continued to tease my whole body.

“S-stop teasing”

I felt him smirking against my skin. “I won't promise that, but I'll give you what you want” His fingers finally penetrated me, making a loud moan escape my lips as he pushed inside slowly. I groaned, feeling myself tighten around his large fingers. “You feel so good,” he whispered, starting to thrust deeper.

I moaned as I leaked onto his palm, stroking his fingers back and forth to coat his hand in my wetness. I twitched as he circled my oozing entrance with one thick digit. His thumb sought out my nub, putting pressure on the aching knot of nerves. I cried out softly, pushing my hips into his hand as he toyed with my most sensitive area.

James's breath hitched. “You're so fucking amazing,” he murmured, I moaned as his fingers moving faster. He leaned in, capturing my lips in a fiery kiss while his thumb continued to tease my sensitive nub.

I clenched around his finger, making James groan into the kiss, his other hand moving to grip my waist. He kept thrusting his finger deeper, feeling the incredible heat surrounding him. His thumb pressed harder against my sensitive nub, as I felt my release approaching.

I hid my face in his neck as I made uncontrollable noises. He entered with a second finger, making me hiss. My tight hole swallowed his fingers like it was starving. He dragged his digits in and out of me, the tips of his fingers scraping the delicate spot residing inside me. I moaned, tilting my head back against the counter. His fingers found a rhythm, his pace increasing as he continued to torment and pleasure my sensitive nub. "So fucking tight,”

my legs shook with the pace he set, the thrusting of his fingers in rhythm with his pummeling fingers. A groan left my lips, my eyes rolling back. As I began to lose control, James took it as a sign. He picked up the pace even more, his fingers now moving in and out like a lover possessed. His thumb finally found release for my sensitive nub, rubbing it hard and fast as I reached the peak of pleasure.

“'m c-close” I shuttered and dug my nails into his back.

“Cum for me,” he groaned, his fingers finding a new rhythm inside me as I felt myself nearing the edge. His thumb continued to work my sensitive nub, his free hand reached above my head, gripping the counter tightly to maintain balance.

I let out a loud moan, cumming hard over his fingers and palm. James groaned, feeling my tight walls squeeze around his fingers. I shuttered as his thumb continued to work on my sensitive nub, his other hand tightening its grip on the counter. “Fuck... you feel so good,” he breathed, his fingers still buried deep inside me.

my heart pounded against my chest as I tried to catch my breath. I swallowed hard as my eyes fluttered shut with a satisfied smirk. James slowly pulled his fingers out, I felt the mix of my cum and his pre-cum dripped onto the inside of my thighs. “I'll have to remember this position,” he teased, his voice low and rough with desire.

I smirked up at him and blindly reached for his hips, I pulled his body against mine in a needy way. “I n-need you inside me” I whispered, my voice rough from the moans he forced out of me.

“You really think you're ready for that?” He asked, his eyes flashing with desire.

I quickly nodded, pulling his body closer to mine “please…”

James chuckled, the sound vibrating against my skin made a shiver run down my spine. “Alright, but remember, I warned you.” With that, his hands grabbed my thighs and lifted them up, a moan fell from my lips as I felt him position his thick length at my aching entrance. I Instinctively pushed my hips up. This gave him a perfect angle to plunge into me as he teased his tip against my aching clit. I whined as he groaned deeply, still hazy from my climax but I never forgot I needed him inside me.

"Fuck..." James growled, my mouth dropped open as I felt every inch of him push deep inside me feeling as I tighten around his head. He pushed forward, slowly at first, as I stretched around his size. A strangled gasp escaped my throat. It felt like the air was stolen from my lungs. He rendered me breathless as he sank deeper inside you. “You're so damn tight,”

"I know," James groaned, pulling back slightly before thrusting forward again, I moaned and dug my nails into his back as he buried himself even deeper inside me. His hands had a death grip on my hips, possibly making marks that would show up the next morning. He held on tightly as he began to move faster, taking us both closer to the edge. “You feel so good,”

my lips separated as a loud moan forced its way from my chest. Finally, I got what I had been wanting since the day I met him. The euphoria was so strong, it was borderline painful.

“Oh fuck…” James panted, as I tighten around him with every thrust. He leaned down, his lips meeting mine in a rough, demanding kiss as he picked up the pace even more. “You're mine,” He growled against my lips. “Say it.”

“I-I'm yours!” I moaned, tugging at his hair. “I've always b-beem yours” I admitted without realizing.

James's thrusts grew harder and faster, his hips slamming against mine in a rhythm that threatened to send me over the edge a little too early. His free hand moved up to grip the side of the counter above my head, holding on tight as he lost himself in the sensation. “Fuck, yes... Cum for me”

I let out a loud moan, heat washing over me as his words pushed me over the edge. Growling, James groaned as my walls clenched around him. His hips stuttered in response, pushing as deep as he could go. He panted hard, feeling his own release drawing closer. With a final, powerful thrust, I felt my orgasm hit me like a truck. I came hard, making James's eyes roll back in his head triggering his own orgasam. His head fell against my chest, filling me up with his seed. His muscles tensed and shook against me, panting hard. "Fuck...,”

I wrapped my arms around his neck, painting as he painted my cervix white. I shuddered in sync with him, his seed hot inside my walls.

“You feel incredible,” he breathed out, his forehead resting against yours. “I've wanted this for so long.”

“M-me too” my breath hitched, pressing my forehead to his and nuzzling my nose against his.

He pulled out slowly, making me moan softly. “But you're mine now,” he growled, smirking down at me. “And we both know how much I love possessing what I can't have.”

I smirked. “Who says you can't have me?”

He chuckled, his chest still heaving from the intense release. “Oh, I could've,” he admitted, his fingers tracing soft patterns on my skin. “But the chase... the anticipation... that's what made it so damn irresistible.”

I chuckled, reaching up and placing my hand on his jaw, rubbing his cheek with my thumb. He chuckled and pecked me on the lips before standing up, he pulled his boxers back up and slowly sat me up from the counter. “let's get you cleaned up”

~~~~~~~~(.......)~~~~~~~~

“where did you two doofuses go?” Seeley asked. My cheeks turned red at my brother's question.

“Just covering more ground, making sure we didn't miss anything” James said quickly.

Temperance looked at the both of us with a knowing smile. The woman truly knew everything. “well…You look way more relaxed than you did this morning Y/n” Temperance said, making my cheeks go reader.

#James Aubrey #James Aubrey x reader #James Aubrey imagines #James Aubrey smut #Bones smut #Bones x reader #Seeley Booth x sister!reader #Bones imagines

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yesimwriting · 1 year ago

Text

Final Girl - Part 9

Final girl Masterlist (all parts in order and extra fics, updated parts 1 - 9)

Series Summary: Y/n can’t believe that she has to leave the only home she’s ever known just because her mom’s latest boyfriend has a house in some town in California. Just as she’s starting to think that Woodsboro might not be that bad, something life altering happens after she agrees to sleep over at Becker’s house. Now her name is practically synonymous with Ghostface’s.

Chapter Summary: Nightmares aren’t that bad when you’re sleeping over at Stu’s house. Too bad no amount of late night movie watching and hot chocolate can cure a bad case of being on Gale Weathers’s radar.

----

The light glints off the knife’s edge so sharply the entire thing warps. The blade looks longer, then smaller, then larger. It changes with each movement of the person holding so much it’s fascinating, almost like a cartoon.

For a second it feels like it’s just that. Like I’m watching Scooby Doo or Nancy Drew or some other kids’ mystery show. Then the knife comes down.

I scream, snapping into the moment as I start running. Everything’s hazy, I can barely register how unfamiliar this place is. Branches are tugging on what I’m wearing, scratching at my face, but I can’t feel them. All I feel is the blood rushing in my ears.

Something cold and sharp digs into my shoulders. I’m thrashing, but it doesn’t matter. It’s too late. My attacker forces me to turn. It’s him--the too familiar white mask, the permanent scream.

He lifts his knife and forces it down. My eyes shut as the blade meets my chest. The pain is a barely there flicker. It’s being drowned out by a tingling sensation that’s taking over my entire body. The feeling disconnects me from it all until my vision fades to black.

Reality returns quickly. My body is laying on something soft, my face pressed into something cushioned.

“No, don’t--” The words come out so tight I almost don’t recognize the voice. Billy.

My head snaps up. The dimly lit space looks like it should be Stu’s living room but something about it feels off. Like everything’s been flipped or something. I don’t see Billy until my mind reconnects the dots and refocuses.

He’s standing with his hands held out cautiously. His back is to me but I can feel his tension. Swallowing back my panic, I force myself to look in the same direction as Billy. That damn mask. Ghostface.

“Billy...” It’s a shaky whisper and I don’t know what I expect from it.

The helplessness washes through me. My eyes drop down, but that makes everything worse.

There’s a thick puddle staining the hardwood floors reflecting the low light of the room. It leads to a pale arm that leads to a shoulder that leads to what--oh. The realization that the mess of glistening red used to be a chest sends a sharp wave of nausea through me.

My gaze shifts up, catching eyes that should be familiar but are too hollow, too blank as they stare up at nothing. Stu.

I scream, my entire body shaking with the urge to get closer like that’d mean something. There’s another sound, some kind of grunt or cry--I don’t--I don’t know--and then Billy falls. First to his knees before slumping over. He lands on his side...next to Stu.

The killer looks up at me with a tilt of their head, they walk over my friends, but they don’t--they--

----

When the darkness of the room washes over me, I’m already sitting up. Not real. Not real. Not real. The tightness in my chest doesn’t go away and a type of sickness that hurts stays in my upper stomach.

I can hear myself panting, but I don’t feel the relief of air entering my lungs. My hand stretches over tangled sheets, a part of me trying to stabilize myself. Maybe that will make the nausea go aw--no.

I’m on my feet in a second, crossing the room to get to the door. Autopilot leads me to the bathroom. Wait--this isn’t my house--I fell asleep at Stu’s. They were both here--so where are they now?

My nausea spikes. I gag, moving instinctually onto my knees.

“Hey.” The voice feels far, I can’t grasp onto it. “Hey,” a warm touch on my back as my hair is pulled back. “You’re okay, angel.”

Oh. I try to breathe through my disorientation as I turn my head. “Stu?”

The amount of nerves in my voice must throw him off but I can’t make out too much of his expression in the dark. Just as the thought settles, the light flickers on and my eyes are squinting to adjust.

Stu moves to stand and keeps a hand on my arm to encourage me to do the same. I’m so stiff and the world is so hazy I don’t think, just follow. The same thing happens as Stu sort of extends me so that I’m in front of the sink.

Another arm is in front of me, holding a tiny cup between two fingers. The liquid is a sharp green. I take the cup before I really know what I’m doing. It smells like the heavy kind of mint that belongs in a dentist’s office.

I bring it to my lips and swish the mouthwash around for longer than I normally would before turning on the sink and rinsing. Such a small thing shouldn’t make that much of a difference but getting rid of the taste of acidic bile in my mouth clears my head enough to let me think.

My head turns in the direction of the arm. “Billy.”

Something clues him into my confusion. It could be the way I said his name or the way I’m just staring like he’s some sort of ghost. He’s trying to figure it out, or maybe he’s trying to piece together a reaction that’s appropriate when someone’s staring this much.

“Hey,” it’s said a little unsurely, “You’re okay. You’re--” His hand finds its way onto my upper back, moving in that circular motion that’s become familiar. It’s enough to let me feel okay about looking towards Stu again.

“You guys are--” I can’t get the words out, can’t figure out how to explain it. “You’re--you’re okay.” I can feel the shakiness in my voice but I can’t bring myself to fix it.

Again, instinct takes over and I pull Stu into a hug. He has to be surprised but he doesn’t hesitate to squeeze me back just as tightly. Billy stays close, his hand still on my back.

They’re both here, still warm and breathing and here. The relief is too much and it joins a flurry of other feelings.

I pull my head off of Stu, “Where were you guys?” I know that anger’s irrational, there are hundreds of reasons they could have both been up, especially since we didn’t fall asleep too late, but I can’t help the panic hiding as aggression in my tone. I try to pull further away, but Stu doesn’t let me. “I woke up and you guys weren’t there and I thought--” I’m not even sure if what I’m saying makes sense, but it’s coming up the same way the bile did, “You can’t do that--you--you left. You can’t just leave.”

“No one’s leaving.” Billy’s voice lacks the defensiveness I expect. “We were just downstairs. I couldn’t sleep so I went to get some water and Stu woke up, and you know how that is.” The attempt at a joke is appreciated, but I can’t bring myself to show it.

Normally, Stu not letting go when I try to push him off bothers me, but now I’m kind of glad he didn’t let me get too far. Something about having them this close is grounding. They’re okay.

“Yeah,” Stu hums, “Who’d leave you?” He says it so casually, so assured, like the thought of going somewhere would have never crossed his mind if I hadn’t said that.

It’s assuring in a different way, not quite getting at all of my panic. “I had a dream that--” The longer I’m awake, the more aware I am of how unnormal I’m being. That doesn’t mean I can stop it. “It was--it was so real, and then I woke up and you--”

They’re being quiet. I know that I’m being a lot and they’re probably still trying to figure out how to react to my panic, but it’s making me antsy. If they’d joke or tease me about this, I’d be able to convince myself that I haven’t fully lost it.

Billy smooths my hair back carefully. “We’re okay,” his voice is low, a little tight. “Everyone’s okay.”

I nod once, trying to convince myself that his certainty is my own. “In my dream--you guys ended up like--” It’s hard enough to mention her when I’m well rested and feeling together. “Like Casey.”

“That’s not going to happen.” Stu’s hold on me goes from fully relaxed to a little firmer.

Argument and doubt immediately bubble up. No one counts on dying. Casey was in her house. I got a call from the killer while home and they knew that Billy was locked out. The cops are still so lost Dewey wants to meet with me again to go over some details. There’s no reason for the killer to just go away...and from what they said the last time we talked, they’re not planning on it.

Stu places a hand on the side of my head, angling me closer with no warning. He places a quick kiss against my temple. I nearly jump before realizing what just happened. That was such a Stu reaction I can’t help but smile a little, even though I shouldn’t encourage him. “You’re cute when you’re worried about us.”

At least that’s the return of something normal. “You say that about everything.”

He breezes past my attempt at harshness, “Not everything.”

“You said it when you noticed that my history folder and notebook match.”

The corner of Stu’s mouth turns upwards, “Ah. The matching notebook-folders.”

I roll my eyes, regretting bringing that up again. He had asked about the matching thing so much I felt like he had to have been making fun of me. “I’m not doing this again, a lot of people color match their stuff.”

“And their sticky notes,” Billy mumbles. I turn my head enough to glare at him. He found me sorting my sticky notes by subject early into our friendship and so far it’s kind of been our secret. Not because it’s a bad thing, just a little type-A and make-fun-able. “Kidding.” Maybe I’d find him funny if I was better rested. He stares at my blank expression for a second, “Are you going back to bed?”

There’s a small chance I’ll never sleep again. I don’t get a chance to answer. Billy steps back, pulling me forward a little. We all walk out of the bathroom and down the hall. Before I can say that I really don’t feel like sleeping right now, Billy walks past the door to Stu’s room.

----

Stu pushes the mug so that it slides against the granite countertop. One of my hands wraps around the handle and the other presses against the ceramic’s side. The warmth soothes me as it leaches into my fingers.

“Thanks.”

He smiles a little, tapping his fingers against the kitchen island, “It’s the least I could do since you’re worried sick over us.”

Billy looks over at us, mumbling some response I barely register, “The least you could do?”

“Whatever, man, you kn--”

The block of knives is only a few feet away. I can only see the handles, the blades are hidden in the wood, but that doesn’t make it any less distracting.

Trying to force myself to stay in the moment, I stare at my mug, studying the giant, cursive London and cartoonish city line that wrap around the ceramic’s side. Big Ben is at the center, almost piercing the lettering. I almost ask about England, but decide not to risk it. Stu’s parents are always traveling. There’s a good chance he wasn’t on this trip. For all I know, the mug was what they brought back for him.

I lift the glass to my lips, taking a few sips. The hot chocolate is almost shockingly good. Perfectly balanced between sweet and cocoa-y. Even the whipped cream and marshmallows are paired so well it feels scientific.

“Y/n?”

I set the mug on the counter, eyes studying the deflating marshmallow lump. “Yeah?” Tearing my eyes away from the marshmallow mutant, I force myself to look up. Billy and Stu share a look. It’s brief, but it feels heavy. Like one of those moments where they slip away into their own world. Normally, when they do that, it’s more like being left out of a joke. This time it might as well as be a psychological assessment. Be more normal. "I’ve never had hot chocolate after 2 AM before.” I take another sip, “It’s nice.”

My recovery feels smooth, so I let myself look up again. Stu’s already staring at me. It’s the kind of focus that wouldn’t be suspicious from him if he’d make some kind of joke about it. Any kind of flirty comment would make it okay and cancel out the seriousness behind his eyes. “You’re feeling better, right?”

The worry is there, but pushed forward with such Stu-like energy that it almost feels more like a statement or request than a question. “A little.” I don’t know how true it is, but it’s easier to say that than admit how unsure I am. And maybe I’ll speak feeling better into existence. “Seeing you guys...knowing you’re okay helps.”

Ah. Sleep depravation is no joke because that’s something I’m definitely going to regret. It’s way too vulnerable and easy to make fun of. I stare at my mug until the quiet’s too much and I have to face what I’ve done. Stu’s not holding in a laugh or radiating a smugness that he’s given into over less. He’s still watching me, but it’s different, softer and more open. I set my mug down before looking over at Billy. His eyes dart down to the sink almost immediately.

My attention snaps back to Stu as he moves forward to place his hand on mine. “Look who loves us.”

I glare halfheartedly as Stu gently bends and squeezes my fingers. “Duh.” Like these two weirdos don’t already know. “I know it was cheesy, but given the circumstances, can you guys please not.”

“That wasn’t cheesy.” Billy’s voice is low, a little rough. “But the nightmare over u--”

“Shut up.” He’s smiling, clearly enjoying my reaction. “Sorry that I’d probably lose it if anything happened to either of you.”

Billy rests his weight on his forearms, leaning forward. The front strands of his hair fall forward as he angles his head towards me. It’d be so easy to extend an arm and push his hair back into place. “Probably?”

I use the hand Stu isn’t still holding onto to grab my mug. “You were mean about it. That got you guys downgraded.”

Stu tugs on my hand with just enough pressure to get my attention. “Hey, leave me out of whatever he says.” I roll my eyes as I take a sip of hot chocolate. “I’m a total sweetheart compared to grumpy over there.”

A burst of laughter tries to claw its way up my throat as I’m swallowing. I know what Stu said wasn’t that unbelievably funny, but something about oversimplifying Billy like that gets to me. “He isn’t grumpy.” I set my mug down. “He’s multifaceted.”

“Multifaceted?” Billy repeats, tone trying too hard to be more wary than amused for it to work. The failure makes me fight down a grin. I like the slips from his usual demeanor, not that Billy’s rough around the edges exterior is something I’d change, it’s just nice to see him relaxed from time to time. It’s also probably good for him.

I nod, committing to whatever bit I’ve accidentally started. “Like a house cat.”

Billy’s eyes stay focused on me, the corner of his mouth hinting at what’s close enough to a smile for me to count it as a win. He looks like he might say something, but then Stu snorts. Laughs in a way that has him pulling on my hand again. “You nailed it, angel.”

Billy tilts his head stiffly, still managing to glare at Stu. It’s still part of the joke, for now, and I need to make sure it stays that way. “So we agree, not grumpy.”

“Hm...” Stu pauses, scrunching up his face as if I’ve just asked him an incredibly deep question that warrants this much reflection. “He’s not grumpy to you because you’re pretty.”

Warmth rushes to my face and I don’t get why. Stu’s definitely said similar and much more intense things before. This comment shouldn’t be different, but he breezed out that last part so casually...like it was factual. “Shut up.”

Stu turns my fingers. “And you have this kicked puppy thing you do with your eyes that makes it not worth it.”

That snaps me out of any embarrassment. I try pulling my hand away, but Stu doesn’t let me get too far. “I do not.”

Stu squeezes my hand between both of his. “Yeah, you do, babe.”

I glare at him and Stu has the audacity to grin. The brief flash of teeth is a little too confident for my taste. He needs to be humbled. I turn my head enough to look at Billy. “He’s exaggerating, right?”

Billy’s expression is hard to read. “It’s just...your eyes.” No. They’re teaming up and turning on me. “It’s not a bad thing.”

Yeah, just what I need, another reason to seem like a cute little, doe eyed victim. It gets under my skin even though I know they didn’t mean it like that.

“Hey,” Billy’s voice is low as he leans a little closer, “We’re just kidding.”

I know that, which only adds to my irritation, because why can’t I just be normal?

“Yeah, sweetheart,” Stu tries, “You’re all big, bad, and scary.”

Stu drops his voice dramatically, and despite myself, I smile. It’s awful how funny I actually find some of the things he does. Sometimes I feel like I have the sense of humor of a middle school boy. Billy raises his eyebrows, giving me a look that screams we really choose to deal with this, huh? He picks a mini marshmallow out of the bag before I can fully react and tosses it at Stu.

The marshmallow bounces off of Stu’s forehead and lands on the counter. I laugh a little more than I should. “What was that for?”

“For being an idiot.”

Stu scoffs, picking another marshmallow. He throws it at Billy. The marshmallow bounces off of Billy’s chest and falls in front of me anti-climatically. “Fuck you.”

His reaction is half joking and half not, like a majority of his more aggressive comebacks. It’s always just Stu going along with it until he’s not anymore. Maybe I should try to say something calming or distracting, just to assure the preservation of the easy mood. But I can’t think of anything, so I just pinch the marshmallow that fell in front of me between two fingers and toss it in Stu’s direction. It hits his arm and falls onto the counter.

They both turn to look at me. The weight of their full attention takes me a little by surprise because I have no good justification for that. “What?” I shrug a little, “Everyone else threw one and I felt left out.”

Stu lets go of my hand, which is a little concerning. He leans back, leg moving forward to push against my seat. The barstool is the kind that swivels so he succeeds in turning me. “You’re lucky you’re cute or people would talk about how weird you are more.”

I push the front of my leg against his in an attempt to get my seat back into place. He doesn’t budge. “Right. I’m the cute, weird one.”

His lips part slightly and his grin feels a little surprised. That can’t be a good thing. “You think I’m cute?”

Oh my god. What have I done? “Hm. I don’t think that’s what I said.”

“That’s what I heard.” His leg shifts, moving so that he’s touching closer to my knee than before.

There’s a chance that I could turn away or push him off, but that feels like letting him win, so I ignore the warmth rushing to my faced. “That’s what you always hear.”

“I heard it, too.”

My head snaps in Billy’s direction. “Don’t encourage him.”

“If Stu had made it up, it would have been dirtier.”

They don’t need any motivation to make these kinds of jokes. I know that I should be smarter about this, commit to my annoyance, but I can’t stop the laugh that slips out. “You guys are the worst.”

Billy moves so that he’s leaning even closer. So close I can make out his individual lashes. “Really looks like you feel that way.”

His voice comes out low, a hint of rasp finding its way into his voice. The words are casual, a return of a joke. Nothing in them can justify the weird rush of heat to my face.

“Yeah, well,” this has to be a sign of sleep depravation, “Looks can be deceiving.”

He adjusts the weight resting on his forearms, “I believe you.”

The reply is a little flat, hard to get, but the underlying amusement is clear. Like there’s some joke I’m missing. “Shut up.” I push myself further back into my seat.

“I didn’t say anything.”

I pick up my mug. “You had a...vibe.” BIlly’s eyebrows draw together. “A making fun of me vibe.”

The corner of his mouth pulls upwards. “A making fun of you vibe?”

“You know what I mean,” I mumble, taking a sip of my hot chocolate.

He tilts his head, as if seriously thinking through what I said. “You sound like you’re tired.”

I knew we’d circle back to this eventually. There’s a good chance they’re tired. When they woke up in the middle of the night, they probably expected to go back to bed soon enough. “If you guys are tired, you can go to bed.”

“We sleep when you sleep.” Stu turns my chair so that I’m facing him a little more again. Great, add their sleep schedules to the list of casualties my new weirdness is responsible for. “Don’t worry, babe, I can go all night.”

Stu looks so pleased with the stupid joke that I give in and crack a smile. “You shouldn’t have to, though.”

His eyes lose some of their humor, softening in a way I don’t quite get. “I’ve stayed up for less important things.”

“He’s tried,” Billy mumbles dryly, looking over at me, “I’ll actually stay up with you.”

I grin, “Wanna draw on his face when he falls asleep?”

Stu lets out an offended scoff from the back of his throat, Billy ignores him, returning my smile. “Permanent marker.”

“Hey,” Stu pouts, “Don’t be mean, or I won’t tell you about my surprise.”

Hm...with Stu, there’s an 50/50 chance that whatever he’s referencing is weird. “Ominous.” His smugness does make me curious. “Okay--tell me.” Stu’s quiet for a second, a hint of smugness in the tilt of his head. I move my arm forward, softly shoving his arm. “Please?”

At that, he cracks, his hand turning over in order to grab mine. Stu places a kiss to the back of my palm. “Only for you, angel.” He then lets me go and stands. Whatever the surprise is, Stu apparently has to leave the room for it.

I blink, turning my attention to Billy, who halfheartedly shrugs. “There’s no telling with him.”

Definitely an exaggeration on Billy’s part, considering the way the two just get each other. It’s a bond anyone could pick up on. “As long as he comes back fully dressed.”

Billy faintly smiles. “Probably a 50/50 chance.”

Tapping my fingers against the counter, I turn my attention back to my mug. “I don’t know, he seemed a little excited.”

Stu comes back before anything else can be said. He’s holding out a VHS tape. Even though he’s still at the edge of the kitchen, I can make out a familiar red on the cover. No way. “You--”

He keeps an arm extended in front of me until the tape’s in reach. I take it and he sits down with a triumphant grin. “I know my girl.”

After I forced him to watch Clueless, I didn’t think I’d ever get him to do anything like that again. And now he just has it here, lying around on a night he didn’t even expect me to come over. He also didn’t pull it out for points earlier. If I hadn’t woken up, he might not have even mentioned it this visit.

It’s sweet and oddly thoughtful, especially coming from Stu. That fits him, though. When I least expect it, he’ll hit me with something like this. I grin, “Someone’s getting soft.”

“I can take it back.”

Gently tapping the tape against his arm, I look up at him. “Don’t you dare.”

The tape is pulled out of my hands. I turn my head in time to see Billy fully steal my weapon from me. “Before you kill someone.”

He’s joking, but the thought of their death is still fresh. My mind isn’t given a chance to latch onto the thought, because Stu leans forward and steals the tape back. “I’ll go set it up.”

Stu stands up again, walking towards his living room. I slide off the stool, ready to follow him. I only make it a few steps before feeling a touch on my shoulder. It takes me a second to think to turn. Billy’s standing closer than I thought he’d be. On anyone else, that natural tendency to move so quietly would weird me out at least a little. But on Billy, it’s just another thing to add to the list of cat qualities I’ll definitely have to mention later.

Or now, considering the way he’s just staring, hand still on my shoulder. “Hi?”

His thumb runs past the loose collar of the oversized shirt I’m wearing and over the base of my neck. “Hi.” Billy presses his lips together briefly, “You’re--” He stops himself, eyes flitting away from my face. “You’re okay, right?”

From him, the question isn’t so much an assumption as it is an almost nervous check in. Billy’s stiff, like he’s bracing himself for hurt. Whether that’s stemming from forcing the question out or concern over my answer or something else all together, I don’t know.

His eyes are focused on something just past me. Billy’s so tense I can feel it in his hold. He’s not squeezing me, but there’s some rigid quality to the contact that wasn’t there before. Whatever he’s thinking of must be heavier than what I’ve been feeling. I don’t know why, but I shift closer and pull him into a hug.

He lets me, eventually moving to place his free hand on my back. “I’m okay.” Billy’s surprisingly warm. “You and Stu just need to really try not to get murdered.”

I feel his exhaled almost laugh more than I hear it. “We’ll try.”

“Good.” The word comes out blunt and hard. I feel the tightness of it in my chest, aggravating the panic that took over earlier. Helpless and grieving and guilty. “Cause I’d--I’d lose my shit if--”

My hold on him tightens. I’m squeezing him so much it has to be uncomfortable and my face is pressed into his shirt even though I can feel tears welling in my eyes.

He runs his hand up and down my back firmly, assuringly. “Nothing’s going to happen.” There’s no way of knowing that. My silence must get to him, because Billy moves his other hand near the nape of my neck, slowly forcing me to move my head away from his shirt. “Look at me.” It takes me a second, but I eventually find it in me to meet his eyes. “Nothing’s going to happen. We’re going to be okay.” I sniffle once before nodding. “All of us, because you’re not the only one that could lose their shit.”

His tone comes out so hard it radiates an aggression that should make me feel worse. It doesn’t, the anger doesn’t make my throat feel tight like it normally would because it’s not directed at me. He’s watching me intently, hand shifting onto my collarbone as if he’s starting to regret what he said.

I nod again, a little more convinced because it’s hard to challenge Billy’s intensity. Almost impossible to not believe him, no matter how little control he actually has over the situation.

“Y-yeah.” My voice feels too small, too childish, like most of my actions tonight. His hand moves forward enough to get his thumb to brush against the pulse point of my neck. “I don’t know what I’m going to do when you two graduate.”

I’m joking. Mostly. Billy lifts a shoulder in a shrug. “We’ll be around, so much you’ll be sick of us.” Again, another thing I want to believe just because Billy’s the one saying it. “If anything, you’re the one that’s going to break us up.” My eyebrows draw together as his thumb presses down a little harder.“Princeton, taking over the world...”

“You’re exaggerating a little.” All of that’s still a world away, and there’s always a chance--knock on wood--that I won’t get in. But the shift in his mood tells me that those maybes don’t matter right now. “You guys could come with, there’s a lot of stuff in New Jersey.” Ah--that was kind of a weird thing to say. I can’t just pack them up and take them with me. That’s not how the world works. “Or--y’know--you guys could just visit and I--visit--I can visit you guys, too.”

Smooth. Billy’s thumb drags down again, the touch regaining its comforting feel as he presses his lips together to fight down a smile. “Come with you?”

“Not like--” I have no one to blame but myself. “I mean--yeah, it’d be cool, and New Jersey’s probably a good place to figure things out...” He’s just letting me ramble, which has to be intentional because he knows how I am. Honestly, it’s a little rude that he’s forcing me to elaborate with so little sleep in my system. “Plus your super awesome best friend would be there.”

His smile eases a little more, “Super awesome best friend?”

“It sounds like something you’d say about me.”

He lets out a breath that’s definitely more amused than he wants it to be. There’s something about getting an extra smile or clearly suppressed laugh from Billy. It’s fun, like a game I’m forcing him into.

“That is how I talk.” His lethal levels of sarcasm take nothing away from my victory.

Billy steps forward. Instead of letting go, he moves his arm so that it’s around my shoulders. I’m kind of glad that he’s staying close. We walk to the living room together.

Stu’s head snaps up from the VCR. “Took you two long enough.” He tilts his head back even further before raising his eyebrows dramatically. “Leave me out of something fun?”

I roll my eyes, slipping out of Billy’s grasp and moving to sit on the couch. “Yeah, actually.” I relax into my seat. “We just hooked up in the kitchen.”

Stu jumps to his feet as I struggle to commit to the bit and not laugh. “Careful, angel.” He sits down next to me, so close our knees are touching as he moves his arm to get me even closer. “I might get jealous.”

It’s not really a threat when he goes there often. Sometimes joking, like he is now and sometimes actually annoyed, like the time I couldn’t go to the movies with him because I had already agreed to hang out with Sidney for the third time that week. But now’s not the time for that, so I play along, “You’ve got nothing to worry about.”

The other side of the couch dips, Billy’s arm moving to rest on the back of the couch. “Ouch.”

There’s little harder than trying to keep them both equally happy. “Relax.” I relax further into the couch. “You know you’re both my favorites.”

“But if you had to pick a number one...”

I lift my hand, lazily swatting at Stu’s arm. The back of my hand barely brushes against his forearm. Stu moves quickly, grabbing my wrist before I can retreat. He pulls my arm towards him, slipping his fingers between mine. “Instead of starting problems, you should start the movie.”

“Bossy.” He lets out a quick tsk, reaching over for something on the end table next to him. The crinkling sound of a wrapper has my eyes following his movements. He holds the packet in front of him triumphantly. “Now I don’t think I should give you these.”

My sour gummies! “You actually have--” I reach forward with my free hand, but Stu pulls them back. “C’mon, you don’t even like them.”

“You were mean.”

He’s basically pouting, especially since I didn’t really do anything. But pointing that out won’t get me my gummies. “Fine. I’m sorry and you’re a treasure that I don’t appreciate enough.”

Stu grins, angling his head towards me. “That’s more like it.” He shifts his arm, pulling the packet open before handing it to me. I grin, happily taking the pack and popping a gummy into my mouth. Stu wrinkles his nose. “How do you eat those?”

I pick another gummy from the pack. He has to be exaggerating how much he dislikes them if they’re at his house. “If you hate them, why do you always have them?”

Stu shrugs, a movement I can feel against my arm. “They’re on the list, the house shopper gets them.”

I almost snort, nearly choking on the gummy that’s in my mouth. “I should make a list of all the rich people things you say.”

“Ask him the difference between a house keeper and a house manager.” That only makes me laugh more.

Stu glares past my head and at Billy. “Ask Billy about his family’s vacation cabin.”

This conversation belongs to a different tax bracket. “If either of you bring up skiing I’m leaving.”

Billy angles himself towards me in order to grab a gummy out of the pack. He squishes it between his thumb and pointer finger, exaggerating his skepticism. “That’s where you draw the line?”

I let myself sink further into the couch, “I’m being generous.”

“Mhm.” Billy shifts, moving his shoulder away from mine. I’m about to dismiss it as him being in a personal space mood when he rests his arm on the back of the couch, his fingers brushing against the collar of my shirt. “I believe you.”

The response is brushed over, but there’s a pinch of smugness there that would be easy to dig at. I’m pretty sure that if I were to lift my head, I’d see evidence of it. A sarcastic smile he can’t explain away or a hint of too much humor behind his eyes. But I’m too comfortable to go after it

With no warning, the other side of the couch dips with no warning. My eyes snap towards Stu. I frown. “Stu?”

“Just starting the movie.” His back is to me, but the grin in his voice is is audible. “Try not to miss me too much, sweetheart.”

My nose wrinkles, face briefly pressing into Billy’s side as I cringe. “I think I’ll live.”

The upbeat music of Clueless’s opening starts playing. After a second, the couch shifts again. Stu pulls the now empty gummy packet out of my hand and place sit on the coffee table. He then sits down, closer than before, our legs touching. After my dream, I can’t bring myself to scold him. They’re both here, completely okay. I don’t even say anything when Stu pulls my arm towards him.

Billy lets out a breath that I feel more than hear. “Don’t fall asleep,” he whispers, “You’ll hurt your neck.”

I roll my eyes. Sleep isn’t going to come back to me. It might not for a really long time, and there’s no way it’ll happen during Clueless. And sometimes Billy can be such a mom about things. It’d be more annoying if it wasn’t kind of...endearing to think of Billy as being a little bit of a secret softie. He likes to seem detached, but it’s all surface level.

“Fall asleep during Clueless?” I tilt my head up enough to look up at him. “Do you even know me?”

----

Narrator’s Perspective

Stu’s eyes move away from the screen and towards your face again. It’s been less than 10 minutes, so checking on you is a little pointless, but Stu can’t help it. Sure, you must be tired, but there’s no way--oh. Your eyes are shut and you’re completely still, temple resting against Billy’s side.

“She’s asleep,” Billy summarizes, not looking away from the screen.

Nodding absentmindedly, Stu keeps his attention trained on you. There’s a softening of your features that always comes when you’re asleep. He can make out enough of that easiness, but there’s an underlying quality that feels stiffer. Stu tries to convince himself that any inconsistencies with the pout of your lips and the set of your brow is a product of the low lighting or his own tiredness reading too much into things.

Your reactions tonight had been a surprise display of how well things are working. You’re all over them, you need them, you--He had never seen you like that. Most of it felt the way he imagined it would, but that relief was undercut by a different kind of tightness in his chest.

Stu runs his thumb over your knuckles. Billy sighs, finally turning his focus towards you. He smooths his thumb across your collarbone. “She’s fine.”

Stu presses his lips together for a moment. “Yeah.”

Billy manages to read that just as easily as he read Stu’s silence. He moves his hand to reach for Stu’s shoulder. “We want her needy, not broken. We’ll just ease off, no calls until she’s ready.”

“Yeah, she just--” There’s no way to say it without pushing at one of the lines they’ve both silently agreed to never mention. That moment in the kitchen when you slipped away, the blankness behind your eyes. It paralleled the way Billy gets when he gets into his head and disappears for a few days. The way he’s been for over a week. “You think she might need something?”

It’s an awkward thought to force out, Stu so skeptical of the idea it’s almost like it came from someone else. Therapy, psychologists, all of that mental fix-what-isn’t-broken bullshit has always been a sore subject. “Isn’t her mom a little...”

“Who gives a fuck about her mom?” Billy’s voice comes out more strained than he wants it to. Part of it is worry, part of it is the implication of motherhood and maternal genetics being that significant. “She--” There’s no real end to his sentence. What is it about you that makes Billy so sure you’ll be okay? Makes him so sure you have to be okay?

It’s not that you have that much going for you survival wise. You’re a good person, but that doesn’t mean much. Good people die all the time. You’re smart, but sometimes that just makes things worse. Billy lets himself mull over it, reflect on you and the way you made him feel when you walked in today. He decides then that you do have something going for you. “She has us.”

That admission serves as a sort of apology. “You and me. That’s all the help she needs.”

You shift against his side, still asleep. The way you held onto him earlier bubbles in his chest. It’s one thing for you to need them, another thing to think that they’re so fucked up they broke the one good, normal thing about them.

Stu frowns, noting the heaviness behind Billy’s eyes. It’s familiar, and now some version of that shadow that pulls Billy away from him is trying to take you. “We just won’t leave her alone.”

That might not be the best thing to say, considering that the closest they come to acknowledging Billy’s occasional slip aways is Stu’s extended presence during those periods. The implication that Billy needs to be looked out for the same way you do is also risky, something that could be taken too seriously depending on Billy’s mood.

A beat of silence, but Billy doesn’t stiffen or react to the implied similarities. “Until she snaps out of it, we don’t leave her alone.” They already spend an amount of time with you that’s hard to justify. Especially with the ever approaching grand finale of their plan. “I’ll need help with my history homework or get tickets to some movie, and when I’m not doing that, you’ll need help with an essay or be in a fight with your parents or--or anything.”

Letting go of your hand, Stu leans further into the couch and stretches his arm over the couch. He rests his palm against Billy’s shoulder. “Yeah.” There’s more he could say. A range of things, maybe a joke or two about your unexpected outburst of worry. “We’ve got her.”

Billy nods, the motion stiff as he avoids looking at either Stu or you. He’s used to Stu’s closeness, and your openness tonight did ease that part of him that always assumes anyone that matters is flighty, but it’s pairing itself with things he’s not used to. The combination is starting to make him feel off, uncomfortable in a way he can’t understand.

“We should wake her up.” Billy’s voice is flat. “Her neck will hurt in the morning if we don’t.”

Stu’s expression shifts to something a lot more smug. “I’ve got it.”

Billy rolls his eyes. Stu’s exaggerating in an attempt to bring back a more easy going atmosphere, but Stu’s definition of reasonably touchy is different than most. You’ve been through enough for one night, so Billy moves away. You let out an annoyed sound, trying to move closer to him in your sleep. He ignores the fondness that stabs at him and gently shakes your shoulder. Your eyes squint open.

----

The dimness of the room makes it hard to register the fact that I’m awake. It takes a second, but I get there enough to pull myself off of Billy’s shoulder. I straighten my back, ignoring the hint of stiffness I feel in my neck.

I wipe the sleep from my eyes, looking at Billy and then Stu. “What?”

“So much for too riveting to fall asleep.”

Billy’s a little too amused by the fact that I briefly dozed off. “I was...barely out.”

The corner of his mouth turns upwards, “Then explain the snoring.”

I scoff, moving back to give myself some space to hit his arm. “I do not snore.” He raises his eyebrows at me and somehow that’s more insulting than if he would have pressed the argument. I turn my head to look at Stu, “I don’t snore, right?”

Stu takes my hand, squeezing my fingers. “It’s a cute snore, angel.”

Sighing, I pull my hand away from his grasp, ignoring his pout. “You are so just taking his side.”

He holds up his hands, “You’re adorable, but I’m neutral.”

Yeah, right. “Yeah, you’re Switzerland.”

“Someone woke up moody.”

Because I have no good defense and sleep is still making my eyelids feel heavy, I just glare in his direction. Stu chooses to retaliate by placing a hand on the side of my head and pulling me towards him, placing a kiss against my temple before I can tell him to knock it off.

Wrinkling my nose, I twist my arm back, trying to smack his chest. Stu lets go of my head and catches my open palm with an ease that’s a little insulting. He squeezes my wrist to his chest, head angling downwards. The light coming from the TV changes as one scene cuts to the next. The dimness seems to briefly lodge itself behind Stu’s eyes.

“You know you’ve played into my trap.”

Stu angles his head to one side, a hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. He makes a silent point by lightly tugging on my wrist. “Really?”

“Mhm.” I straighten my spine instinctually, even though any height I get from that is useless. “I’m building your confidence, so that when I decide to attack you, you’ll never see it coming.”

He grins before letting out a laugh. I know that I’m joking, but again, being dismissed that quickly is a little rude. I’ve never given him any reason to think I could kick his ass, but it’s not that impossible. “When?”

I pull my arm towards my lap and Stu lets me go. “Shut up.”

“What? I’m on your side.” Right. “You’re a mastermind, angel.”

Billy sits up before exhaling. The sigh is low and brief but gives away how tired of us he’s getting. I can’t blame him, Stu and I are a lot to manage even when he’s well rested. “I don’t think you have to try too hard to build his ego.”

I smile, turning my head to look at Billy. “It’s not a complicated plan.”

Stu scoffs out a sound of protest before sinking further into the couch. “Fuck you guys.”

A joke about how he’s pouting briefly comes to mind, but I decide that I’m too tired to push it. Considering how little sleep we’ve all gotten, it’d be easy to pass the line between easy going teasing and into one of Stu’s actual moods. “We’re kidding.”

“Yeah,” Billy starts, and I already know it’s not going anywhere good, “You’re the most humble.”

Stu looks over my head to flatly glare at Billy. “Hysterical.”

Despite Stu’s annoyed expression, there’s something about the exchange that’s so familiar it feels easy. Lighthearted despite potentially sharp edges. It’s the specific energy that’s usually associated with a specific group. “You two argue like an old, married couple.”

That shocks Stu enough to make him forget any potential argument. His expression blanks as he turns his head down sharply to look at me. Whatever he finds in my amused expression makes him laugh. “Yeah, like I’d tie myself down to Billy’s sorry ass long enough to grow old together.”

Billy scoffs, and even that feels in good humor. “Like I’d be able to put up with him that long.” The words are dismissive, Billy’s tone bored, but I don’t miss the way he glances over at Stu.

“Please,” Stu mumbles, pushing Billy’s arm from around the ledge of the couch before leaving his hand there, “You’d be lucky.” Stu scoffs out the sentence, but again, there’s something warmer lurking beneath the surface.

It’s hard not to smile at the hidden in plain sight display of fondness. They really do get each other. I don’t know what’s shifted in the two seconds of silence, but I can practically feel them disappearing into one of their silent exchanges. It’s weirdly cute, but it’d be cuter if I wasn’t sitting between them during it. My position feels like it’s highlighting how out of place I am.

Stu’s arm moves off the back of the couch and settles on my shoulders. “Who’s too good for who, sweetheart?”

Yeah, there’s no way I’m even giving that a joke answer. “I’m tired, not stupid.”

He frowns, “You’re no fun.” Before I can respond, Stu adjusts his hold on my shoulder to angle me a little closer to him. “I get it.” To his credit, Stu is whispering, but his voice is still loud enough for Billy to hear. Definitely on purpose. Stu angles his head towards me, leaning closer in order to pretend that this next part’s the real secret,“We’ve got to keep Billy’s feelings safe.”

Billy lifts a hand off the back of the couch and flicks the side of Stu’s head.

Even though I’d have to crane my neck awkwardly to look at Billy, I can feel him shrug. The motion briefly brings how close the two of them are to the front of my mind.

“Ow--man, what was that for?”

I laugh, the sound too sudden and loud for this time of night. Stu might take that the wrong way, but I can’t help it anymore than I can help the way I slump into the couch.

“Okay.” Billy sounds a little like someone speaking to a child resisting nap time, but does nothing to get me off of his shoulder. “Let’s go to bed before you fall asleep again.”

The thought of going to bed isn’t appealing, but I’ve complicated enough things tonight. I peel myself off of Billy’s shoulder and he keeps an assuring hand on my back. Stu follows along, standing up first and then making a point to hold onto my arm like I could fall without his support.

We walk up the stairs almost exactly like that, hovering close together like kindergarteners on a field trip. It’s reassuring as we get to Stu’s room, helping me fight against the lingering anxiety from my dream. I focus on that as I force myself to sit on the edge of the bed. They’re fine.

Billy lays down on the same side he was on before. When I don’t move, he turns enough to nudge my shoulder. I take that as a sign to force myself to actually lay down. There’s no good way to justify the nerves. I fell asleep earlier and nothing bad happened.

“Nothing’s going to happen.” The sentence is forced out and mumbled in a way that doesn’t fit Billy. It feels so hesitant I almost convince myself that I imagined it.

“Yeah,” Stu echoes, moving so that his arm brushes against mine, “Everything’s okay, angel.” He pulls my hand towards him. “Promise.”

Still not the kind of thing that can be guaranteed, but I want to believe them. I nod even though it’s too dark for either of them to see. The motion is more for me, anyway, an attempt to force myself to agree. Things are okay for now, and that’s enough for me to close my eyes. It doesn’t take long for the lingering sleep in my body to come back, dragging me under before I can overthink anything else.

----

Sunlight speckles the darkness behind my eyelids. It’s not an overwhelming brightness, but the change is jarring enough to wake me up slowly. I wipe at my eyes with the back of my hand, a little disappointed that the hazy feeling in my head doesn’t go away with the movement. Lack of sleep, I guess.

I blink, turning my head to check on Stu. He’s still asleep, partially curled onto his side. It could be because of how energetic he is while awake, but Stu’s sleep always seems so full. My head turns in the other direction. Billy’s still, eyes shut, but something about his position feels stiff. I frown, making a point of only studying him out of the corner of my eye even though his eyes are closed. I wouldn’t put it past him to just know.

Billy turns a little, the motion controlled enough to pass as something someone would do while asleep. He lets out a small sigh, another thing that could or couldn’t be sleep. “You’re up.” It almost sounds like an accusation.

So he was awake. Knew it. “So are you.”

He squints his eyes open. A few strands of hair fall forward as he angles his head to look at me. My eyes lock on the way they brush against his forehead. I squeeze my hands together, weirded out by the fact that I think it’d take less effort to push his hair back into place than to not, that it’s taking any effort to not fix.

“Did you sleep okay, at least?”

The question surprises me more than it should. Billy may seem like the kind of teenage boy that’s too cool for a lot of things, but every once in awhile something a little softer slips out. A bit of a mother hen quality that likes to hide under a thin layer of snarky concern. I’d point this out, but I’m attached to our friendship.

I prop my head up. “Yeah, I slept okay.” And I don’t even have to lie to say that. After lying down, it took no time at all for me to fall asleep. An all consuming, dreamless sleep, which is all I wanted. “You?”

“Okay.”

Hm. That was a quick answer. He seems fine, but the shadows under his eyes have been a little more prominent than usual lately. That paired with the glimpse of what I saw yesterday has to be worth noting, right?

My eyes drop to the comforter. “You um...” I press my nails into the fabric. “Yesterday, I know I totally freaked, so I might sound a little hypocritical, but when I got here...you didn’t seem...” Ugh...there’s no good way to say this to him. It’s easy for him to twist things in his head and I don’t want him to feel attacked. “...Like you.”

It’s only been a few seconds, but the silence expands something between us. My nails dig into the plush comforter even harder to distract myself, but it’s not working. I have to look up. Billy’s expression shifts from overwhelmingly blank to something a little harder when our eyes meet.

“It’s just been a long week.” His tone is casual enough, but it’s missing what makes him familiar. “My dad’s on me about grades, senior year...”

Billy did not just try to pin everything on his ‘senior year’. The realization that he’s probably lying, or at the very least, not telling me the entire truth, tries to crawl to the front of my mind, but it fails. It doesn’t matter.

“Whatever it is...” I take a deep breath, “If you ever want to talk about it more, or just...need anything...”

His eyebrows pinch together, eyes taking their time passing over my face. I don’t know what he could possibly be looking for in my expression. He must find it, because he eventually looks down. “Trust me, if I ever want to have a feelings talk, you’re the first person I’ll go to.”

There’s a hint of teasing in his voice that makes it easy to smile. “I get it...” Billy places his palm over the back of my hand. “I’m all mush.”

“Eh,” he tilts his head, playing into the joke as I roll my eyes. He shifts so that more of his weight is resting on his elbow. “You’re nice.” The shift in tone is sharp enough to give me whiplash. “You care about people.”

I keep my eyes on our hands. “You’re nice, too.” He might not be aware of it, but he’s a lot kinder and more careful than people give him credit for. He’s always there when I need him and he always tries to understand. “You’re a good friend, so if you--”

“I’ve seen you get worse over a math test.” Technically true, but that was a complicated situation. It wasn’t just the math test, it was the morning after the Ghostface attack and then I found photos of the Becker’s yard printed in a copy of the newspaper abandoned in the bathroom. But I have reacted pretty dramatically to less than ideal grades before.

Billy’s hand grips mine with a little more pressure than before. “Yeah,” I mumble, already regretting trying to push.

He sighs, “I’m okay.”

Billy relaxes his hold on my hand. “Yeah,” I nod, “Guess I’m just a little overprotective.”

“You like me that much, huh?”

I roll my eyes. “Eh. You’re okay.”

His eyebrows draw together in exaggerated offense, “Just for that, I’m not making you breakfast.”

He lets go of my hand and moves to stand in an attempt to make his threat seem more genuine. I push myself to sit up fully, “You know how to make breakfast?”

Billy’s already approaching the door but he turns his head enough to glare at me. “I’ve never set off the fire alarm.”

“That was one time.”

He dismisses my defense by opening the door. I push myself off the bed, looking over at Stu. He’s still out. “He’s fine, he’ll wake up when he’s hungry.”

I focus on the even rise and fall of his chest. Stu’s face is pressed into his pillow, one leg still covered by his blanket and the other kicked out, dangling close to the edge of the bed. At least one of us knows how to sleep.

“Yeah,” I agree, walking towards the door, “He’s lucky we’re too nice to draw on him.”

Billy looks back at me as he steps onto the stairs, “He’s lucky I don’t have a pen.”

I laugh. “Maybe we can find one.”

The part of the living room that’s too far away from the windows to reach a decent amount of sunlight is still illuminated. An artificial glow catches my attention. I guess no one turned off the TV last night.

I walk towards the TV, crossing my legs beneath me as I sit down. It takes a second because of all the extra buttons on the control panel--rich people TVs should have instruction manuals taped to their sides--but my eyes eventually find the off button. I press it and all the TV does is turn staticky.

“The tape’s still in there, you need to turn off the VCR first.”

Makes sense. I mess with the buttons, turning the whole thing back on and starting over. Billy waits near the couch as I manage to turn the VCR off because after a second, regular cable starts playing. I hit another button. Instead of powering off, the TV switches to another channel. Before I can press anything else, a voice catches my attention. “The police department still has no leads on the crime that has rocked this sleepy community almost a year after the still unsolved murder of Maureen Prescott.”

“Isn’t Gale Weathers that journalist you yelled at?”

Ugh--that’s how I know her. "I didn’t yell.” I stare at her focused expression as she stares down the camera. “I just made my thoughts on her journalistic process clear.” She’s wearing a suit that’s as vibrant as the one she was wearing when I met her at school. “Also my thoughts on what she was wearing.”

The studio lights reflect against her gingery red, blonde highlighted hair in a way that’s unfortunately put together. “She’s kinda pretty, I guess...” Her getting-the-story-at-any-cost personality is something I’d admire if it was directed at anyone else. “For someone that totally sucks.”

“Which is why I’m still pressing forward with an updated version of my book detailing the two crimes, the suspects, and the most recent piece to the complicated puzzle--the sole survivor of the Becker Case.”

Oh, there is no way she means--

My yearbook photo flashes onto the corner of the screen. “Local high schooler, Y/n L/n.”

Blood rushes to my ears. Something warm and assured squeezes my shoulder. Billy. “Y/n?”

The floorboards creek beneath the weight of even footsteps. “Thanks for--” The grogginess in Stu’s voice disappears with the rest of his original sentence, “What happened?”

I finally connect with my body enough to pick my jaw up off the ground enough to form a sentence, “She put me in her fucking book.”

----

a/n billy and stu when the traumatic thing they do is actually traumatic: 😦

also we’re about to get into the gale arch! yay!

----

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thanks for reading!! <3

#scream #scream x reader #scream 1996 #billy loomis #billy loomis x reader #stu macher #stu macher reader #ghostface #ghostface x reader #poly!ghostface #poly! ghostface x reader #final girl fic

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hiro--aoki · 1 month ago

Text

TWD X TUMBLR Chapter Three: Stick Together

Tw: Mentions of rascism, use of N-word slur (again 😰), mentions of drugs, catcalling, say bye bye to a character

A/n: procrastination really is my enemy atm. literally kept you guys waiting longer than i intended, my bad fam. this is a very long chapter 💪🤫🧏‍♂️🤫

Previous Chapter // Next Chapter

Rick picks up the gun Merle dropped, checking the ammo, “Look here, Merle. Things are different now. There is no n***** anymore. There are no dumb as shit, inbred white trash fools either. Only dark meat and white meat. There’s us and the dead. We survive this by pulling together not apart.”

Merle slowly turns his head to Rick and says defiantly, “Screw you, man.”

Rick takes a breath, “I can see you make a habit of missing the point.”

“Yeah, well screw you twice.”

“Outa be polite to a man with a gun,” Rick brings Merle’s own gun to his head, mocking him with his own words, “Only common sense.”

The rest of the group watch the interaction, still recovering from Merle’s minute long power trip.

“You wouldn’t,” Merle challenges, “You’re a cop.”

Rick lowers his gun, “All I am anymore, is a man looking for his wife and son. Anyone who gets in the way of that is gonna lose.”

The two of them hold silent eye contact for a few seconds.

Rick breaks the silence again, and starts to check Merle’s pockets, “I’ll give you a moment to think about that.”

He pulls out a little box. He recognises it instantly from his years as an officer. Rick grabs Merle’s chin, forcing him to look up.

“Got some on your nose there,” Rick gives a flick to his nose.

“What’re you gonna do? Arrest me?” Merle mocks.

It’s only at this point he notices Rick walking over to the edge of the roof. Rick tosses the drugs over the side of the building.

“Hey! What’re you doing?! That’s my stuff! If I get loose, you better pray!” Merle says, pulling his wrist, trying escape his restraints.

Rick starts to walk to another side of the roof, Morales following.

“You hear me, you pig? You hear me?!” Merle continues to rant over his drugs like a Scooby Doo villain would after they’ve been caught.

“Yeah, your voice carries.” Artemis says, shooting a much-deserved glare at Merle.

“You filthy pig!” Merle ignores her and keeps trying to twist his way out of the handcuffs.

Rick leans against a ledge, looking over the city. The streets are still filled with the relentless walkers. Thunder rolls in the distance, louder than Merle. Morales stands next to Rick.

“You’re not Atlanta PD.” He states, “Where are you from?”

Rick thinks for a second, before answering, “Up the road aways.”

“Well Officer Friendly, from up the road aways, welcome to the big city.”

They both turn back to the shuffling, decaying nightmares as they moan and groan their way around the city. The streets are infested with them. There’s no way out. Every direction they turn there’s just as many.

On a different ledge, Andrea, Jacqui and Artemis peer over that side.

“It’s like Time’s Square down there.” Andrea states, worry for all their safety is obvious in her tone.

Morales and Rick make their way back to the rest of the group.

“How’s the signal?” Morales asks.

“Like Dixon’s brain.” T-Dog says blankly, “Weak.”

Merle just flips him off in return.

“Keep trying.” Morales orders.

“Why? There’s nothing they can do.” Andrea says, “Not a damn thing.”

“Getting them to come and help us would be telling them to come to their deaths.” Artemis adds.

“Got some people outside the city as well.” Morales explains to Rick, “There’s no refugee centre, that’s a pipe dream.”

“Then she’s right, we’re on our own. It’s up to us to find a way out.” Rick says, his stubborn nature really shining through in such a dim situation.

“Good luck with that.” Merle interrupts, “These streets ain’t safe in this part of town from what I hear.”

Merle then glances at Andrea, shamelessly checking her out, “Ain’t that right, sugar tits?”

That comment makes everyone look over at Merle with some form of disgust. Andrea even looks somewhat offended.

Merle doesn’t stop there, “Hey, honey buns, what say you get me out of these cuffs, we go off somewhere and bump some uglies? Gonna die anyway.”

“I’d rather.” Andrea states bluntly.

“Rug muncher. I figured as much.” Merle mutters.

“Streets ain’t safe. Now there’s an understatement.” Morales says, standing with Rick.

“What about under the city?” Rick suggests.

“The sewers?”

“Oh man.”

Morales turns to Glenn, “Hey Glenn, check the alley.”

The rest of the group look up at Morales and Rick. Glenn jogs over to the side of the building where he has a clear view of the alley.

“See any manhole covers?” Morales asks.

Below them, in the alley, two walkers are standing idly but no sewer entries in sight. Glenn jogs back to the group.

“No, must be all out on the street where the geeks are.” He concludes.

Jacqui speaks up, “Maybe not. Old buildings like this, built in the ‘20s. Big structure often had drainage tunnels into the sewers in case of flooding down in the subbasements.”

“How do you know that?” Glenn questions.

“It’s my job -was-.” She clarifies, “I worked in the city zoning office.”

“I’m surprised, those office jobs do come in handy.” Artemis says.

______________

Morales, Jacqui, Rick, Glenn, Artemis, and Andrea make their way down to the subbasements of the building. They reach the opening of the tunnel. The deep, dark, and damp tunnel. The group point each of their flashlights down into it, illuminating the tunnel slightly.

“Very welcoming.” Artemis mumbles.

“This is it? Are you sure?” Morales asks the group.

“I scoped this place out the other times I was here.” Glenn says, “It’s the only thing in the building that goes down…but I’ve never gone down it.”

“Very promising too.” Artemis adds to her earlier statement.

“Who’d want to, right?” Glenn asks rhetorically.

The group glance over at Glenn, he looks back at them.

It takes him a few seconds to realise; he is the human sacrifice.

“Oh. great.” He mutters.

“We’ll be right behind you-“Andrea tries to say.

Glenn interrupts her, “No, you won’t. Not you.”

Andrea takes this to slight offence, “Why not me? Think I can’t?”

“I wasn’t-“Glenn tries to backpedal.

“Speak your mind.” Rick says firmly.

Glenn takes a minute to think about what he’s going to say.

“Look, until now, I always came by myself. In and out, grab a few things; no problem. First time I bring a group; everything goes to hell.” Glenn says, before adding, “No offense.”

There’s another moment of awkward silence between the group.

“If you want me to go down this gnarly hole, fine…but only if we do it my way.” As he continues talking, the confidence in Glenn grows a bit more, “It’s tight down there. If I run into something and I have to get out quick, I don’t want you all jammed up behind me, getting me killed.”

“I’ll take one person.” Glenn states.

Rick looks as if he’s just about to volunteer but Glenn stops him.

“Not you either. You’ve got Merle’s gun and I’ve seen you shoot.” Glenn explains, “I’d feel better if you were out in that store, watching those doors, covering our ass.”

Glenn then gestures to Andrea, “You’ve got the only other gun, so you should go with him.”

He then turns to Morales, “You be my wingman. Jacqui and Artemis stay here. Something happens, yell down to us, get us back up here in a hurry.”

“Okay.”

“Yes sir.”

“Okay, everyone knows their jobs.” Rick confirms, giving Glenn a pat on his back.

Glenn and Morales start to descend into the very friendly tunnel of hope. After making sure they’re down safely, Andrea and Rick head back up to the shops.

______________

Artemis and Jacqui watch as the other two pairs go and do their assigned jobs. There’s not a long silence before Artemis speaks up.

“What do you think about that Rick guy?”

“He seems decent enough.” Jacqui admits.

“Came out of nowhere and already has your trust? Must be aa sign or something.” Artemis jokes as she leans on the railing of the tunnel.

“You trynna say he’s the ‘chosen one’ or something?” Jacqui smiles.

“Might as well be at this point.”

They both chuckle, enjoying what could be one of their last moments. That is if Rick’s plan doesn’t go accordingly.

_______A Few Minutes Later_______

Morales, Glenn, Jacqui and Artemis come back up to the shops just in time to see the first set of glass doors chatter. The walkers flood the small space that they achieved, leaving only one set of glass doors between them and their dinner.

Rick keeps his eyes on the small army of walkers, “What’d ya found down there?”

“Not a way out.” Morales answers.

“We need to find one. Soon.” Andrea states.

The group agrees, before heading back up to the roof as quick as they can.

_____________

Rick scans across the viewable parts of the not so fabulous city through a pair of binoculars.

“That construction site, those trucks; they always keep keys on hand.” He points out to the desperate group.

Rick passes the binoculars to Morales. Morales looks from the construction site to the streets practically flooded with walkers.

“You’ll make it past the walkers.” Morales mutters.

Rick turns to Glenn, “You got me out of that tank.”

“Yeah, but they were feeding. They were distracted.” Glenn argues.

_______A Few Minutes Later_______

The groans, moans and shuffling surrounds Rick, Glenn and Artemis as they slowly shuffle through the streets. The stench practically fuming off them and the walkers is nauseating. They walk terribly slow, trying to blend in with the walkers like kids on their first day of school. They slowly inch closer to the yard where they need to get to.

Glenn looks over at the walking corpses. They used to be people. They probably died scared, suffering and alone. Thunder rolls and echoes throughout the streets, interrupting his intrusive thoughts.

Rain starts to slowly and gently fall. Rick looks back at Glenn and Artemis. Glenn’s face holds a stunned expression, whereas Artemis’s holds a worried expression. Rick subtly gestures for them to move faster.

As they near the fence surrounding the construction compound, wakers start to notice that they are in fact, not walkers, and start to walk towards them.

“Shit.” Artemis whispers, as if whispering could save them now.

“Go. Run. Come on.” Rick says.

The group start to run along the asphalt. The walking corpses reach and grab at the three of them. They reach the gate and start climbing. Artemis looks between Rick and Glenn and the oncoming tsunami of walkers. They won’t make it in time.

She pulls off her bag and shoves into Glenn’s hands.

“What are you doing?!” Glenn asks in concern.

“Being a distraction.” She hisses back.

“Are you crazy?!”

“Probably.”

“You can’t be serious.”

Artemis grabs Glenn’s shoulders, “The group needs you to survive. You and Officer Friendly over there. You’re like a brother to me, and if anything happened to me, I would beat myself up so bad if your girlfriend doesn’t beat me to it.”

With that she let’s go of him and starts to move along the fence, in the opposite direction to Glenn and Rick.

“Glenn, come on!” Rick yells.

_______Meanwhile_______

“It’s late, they should’ve been back by now.” Amy says as she paces in from of the RV.

“Girl, calm down, you worry too much.” Delilah says as she makes a daisy chain for Kayden while teaching Lily how to do it.

“They’ll be okay, they’re with Glenn and Artemas.” Lily says as she copies whatever Delilah does with the small flowers.

Dale pokes his head up from working on the RV’s engine, “Worrying won’t make it better.”

Amy lets out a sigh and walks off to occupy herself, in hopes it will make the others return quicker.

“Start it over.” Shane chuckles as he tries to teach Carl how to tie a tight knot.

Carl giggles and does as he says. Kayden watches Carl with fascination. His laughter and determination capturing her in a trance, like pretty much anything Carl does. Lori watches Shane and Carl interact from the clothes like.

The CB comes on, and they hear T-Dog’s voice, “Hello, base camp? Can anybody out there hear me?”

People start to gather around the radio again.

“Base camp, this is T-Dog. Anybody hear me?”

Dale answers it, “Hello? Hello? Receptions bad on this end. Repeat.”

“We’re in some deep shit here.” T-Dog admits, sounding distressed, “We’re trapped in the department store.”

Worried murmurs come from the others and Delilah looks over to Lily with wide eyes.

“Glenn will be okay. He’s the kind of guy to refuse to die until he says, ‘I love you’ one last time.” Lily says to comfort her best friend.

“Geeks…surrounded…of em…” T-Dog’s voice cuts in and out over the line.

“T-Dog can repeat that last bit?” Dale asks.

He just gets static in reply.

“He said the department store.” Lori clarifies.

“I heard it to.” Dale says.

“Shane-“

“He cuts Lori off, “No way. We do not go after them. We don not risk the rest of the group. Ya’ll know that.”

Amy speaks up, “So we’re just gonna leave her there?”

“And Glenn?” Delilah speaks up, her friend’s earlier comfort no longer working.

“Look, Amy, Lilah, I know that this is not easy-“

“They volunteered to go!” Amy argues, “To help the rest of us.”

“I know, and they knew the risks, right?” He states, keeping calm as to not aggravate her any further, “See, if they’re trapped, they’re gone. So we just have to deal with that. There’s nothing we can do.”

“She’s my sister, you son of a bitch.” Amy says as she storms off.

“Dude, your dad is such a downer. “Lily mumbles to Delilah.

She finishes her daisy crown, fitting it nicely on Carl’s head, as Delilah puts the chain around Kayden’s neck.

_______A Few Minutes Later_______

Since the last communication, the mood around the camp has been less than cheerful. The only thing lifting spirits now is Kayden and Carl running around the camp, pretending to be fairies, are being chased by the evil witches, Lily and Delilah.

Suddenly, the loud engine of what can be assumed to be a sports car, echoes throughout the quarry. A bright red car comes into view, driving towards the camp, and stopping right next to the RV. Glenn steps out of the car and looks around the group.

He’s bombarded with people around him, asking if everyone’s okay, telling him to turn the blaring car off, asking him what happened.

Glenn pops the bonnet of the car and Shane turns off the noise. Glenn looks around the group and almost instantly spots a flabbergasted Delilah with a bright pink blush.

He jogs over to her and wraps her in a tight hug. He rests his head on her shoulder and looks like he doesn’t intend on moving for a while. Delilah gathers herself and grabs his face her hands and presses their lips together.

“Ew!” Kayden and Carl squeal, carl covering Kayden’s eyes.

“Yeah, ew!” Lily chuckles and throws grass at the pair.

They break apart and immediately shy away from each other.

“Glenn, where are the others?” Dale asks.

“Coming.” Glenn mumbles, still very much flustered.

Just as he says this, a small truck drives up the road, parking behind the sports car. The group step out. Amy practically jumps tackles Andrea. Morales is just glad to see his wife and kids are still in one piece.

“How’d you all get out of there?” Lori asks.

“Thought you guys were trapped.” Jim adds.

“We were. The new guy got us out.” Morales says.

“New guy?” Dale asks.

“Yeah, crazy vato just got into town. Hey helicopter boy, come meet everyone!” Morales calls out to the truck.

Rick steps out of the truck, taking a few steps towards the new group of faces. He stops in his tracks. Carl and Lily turn to see him. Rick starts to walk toward them, Carl starts sprinting to Rick, his flower crown flying off, Lily not far behind.

“Dad!”

Carl jumps into Rick’s arms, and Lily hugs them both. After a few seconds Lori joins the hug as well. Carl is sobbing, Lily is also sobbing silently shedding a few tears and Rick is fighting back his own tears. Lori is in shock that Rik is alive after all this time, as is Shane.

The rest of the group watch with wide eyes as the once broken family reunite.

Taglist:

@kookiekult @smutinlove @far-cry-from-finality @zomb-1-egutzz

@shadowybasementmiracle @vaniniweenie @sleep-queen

@frankcastleautism @hisdahlia @carlslvr @zzombiegirl

@lunarnightt @carlmipololo @herrera2k @txrasbae

@a-vampire-bat @coveofthesiren

#the walking dead #twd #twd x tumblr #artemis everdeen #delilah walsh #kayden walsh #lily grimes

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