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alphabetboyluvr · 9 months

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landslides - 001 | goldrush - jjk

part title credit: goldrush - taylor swift

everybody wonders what it would be like to love you... i can't dare to dream about you anymore... it never will be...

pairing: officeworker!jungkook x female reader (coworkers)

premise: jungkook asks you to dog sit over chuseok. he doesn't ask you to steal the empty spaces in his head, the dreams he's yet to have, nor the idea of you always just being 'you' to him - and yet, like a thief in the night (with his own damn dog as your accomplice), you do.

warnings: fluff more than angst, but it's not clean cut - there's also a touch of smut. office worker jk, fuck boy (but kind!) jk, mentions of his workplace escapades, oc is dating mingyu (yay), oc sorta fancies jk (boo), solo masturbation (m), vivid thoughts of shagging (jk is a perv! wow! unlike me to write him as randy bastard!), lots of facetime calls, oc and jk are fundamentally flawed as a pairing, genuine friendship, daddy kink? ig? but like kinda sweet?, jungkook has a complex brain house and you've been banished to his annexe!! he also has a thing for claw clipped hair lol

wordcount: 6.8K

note from holly: so... i dogsat (? idk if thats a word) for my friend last chuseok and this was the result hahahaha. my friends dog (boba <3) is so tiny and small!! but i've always been a big dog girlie so bam was fun to write. i really love this one and have recently found all of my old notes from around that time detailing the rest of the couples lives, so pt. 2 is in progress.

minors dni // cross posted to wattpad

Bam notices the storm roll in before you do. His ears twitch, head lifting from its rested perch on his paws.

“What’s up, baby? Hey?” You coo, his sudden shift obviously prompted by something. His snout begins to twitch, too, and his bottom lip shakes as a small growl vibrates from his throat. His eyes are on the window, stalking the clouds as they roll past. “Hey.”

You sit up a little straighter to lean forward and scratch behind his ear. He leans into it, but doesn’t take his eyes away from the sky.

“You see the rain, huh?” You hum, looking between the pup and the window ahead. You can’t place it yet - it’s too far in the distance - but you find yourself coming to sit beside him. He doesn’t lean up against you like he usually does. Just continues to lightly growl.

There’s no threat behind his noises, no malice - he’s just shouting back at the thunder you can’t hear. When you see a bolt of lightning flash in the distance just beyond the city skyline, you know that it won’t be long until Jungkook’s apartment block is drenched in the weather.

It’s just gone midnight when he calls. His face is a little puffy, smile a little lopsided.

“Hey Bammie,” he coos into the camera. You’ve got it angled down to where the pup is resting his head on your knee, peacefully unwinding after his long walk. Bam doesn’t stir at Jungkook’s voice, so he tries again. “Bammie?”

The way he elongates his puppy’s name is sweet - a tone of voice reserved only for his most trusted companion. He sure as hell has never spoken to you like that.

“Sorry, bud,” you say as you lift the camera up to your face. He’s pouting. “I don’t think the vibrations sound the same through the phone.”

“I miss him,” he says not even caring to acknowledge your thought process. “Is he okay? Was he good on his walk?”

“He’s all good,” you smile. “Best boy in the world. None of the other dogs you mentioned were down at the park, so it was just us two.”

He nods into the camera and purses his lips. “They might all be away. Visiting family.” He rolls over in his bed and lets out a yawn. “How’s the apartment? Got everything you need?”

You nod back. “All good. Might have eaten my way through your cheese stash already. I’m gonna shower then head to bed in a minute.”

“Make sure you leave the bathroom door open a little,” he says. “He’ll whine if not.”

“Will do.”

“Thank you,” he says. “I really appreciate you doing this. He hasn’t been too much work, has he?”

“He’s good as gold,” you say as you switch to the back camera. The view is serene, and Jungkook’s lips instantly settle into a smile. Bam is up on the sofa with you, snuggled against your lap. The skyline twinkles through his window, the reflection of his mood lamp obscuring some of it - but he’s quietly pleased that you’re using it. It’s how he normally winds down, too. Main lights off, galaxy on his ceiling. Must make Bam feel a little more at ease. You go to scratch behind his ear, and he huffs a little, all content and cosy. “Thanks for asking. He’s never too much work. You trained him well.”

“Hmm,” Jungkook hums. “Could have trained you a little better, though.”

He laughs when you switch the camera back to your face, mouth open, brows knitted together. “Me?!”

“Yes, you,” he grins now but tries to hide it; to restore the stoicism to his face. It doesn’t work. “What did I tell you about the sofas?”

You purse your lips together as if you’re not smiling. He’s got you there, admittedly.

“Look, he’s just so cute!” Despite the fact you’ve turned the camera back onto Bam, Jungkook can tell you’re pouting. “How could I say no?!”

“Easily!” Jungkook laughs. “That’s how he became so well trained! I leave for one night and-”

“Shuuuush,” you laugh, and when the camera switches back to you, Jungkook can’t help but let his smile persist. You look tired, and so does he, but there’s something about the call that has made you forget all about the fact you were planning on going to bed soon. “My swamp now. My rules.”

“My swamp,” he protests, but the look on his face is so saccharine that you can’t take him seriously. He thinks the same could be said for you. “Anyways, it’s late. Go get your shower. If you need more towels, there are some in the cupboard by the boiler. Don’t forget to turn the vent on - it’s the switch next to the light.”

“Alright, will do,” you nod and then yawn. Bam pricks his head up. “Hey baby,” you speak to him. “Did I wake you?”

“Show me him.”

You switch the camera around to where you’re scratching at Bam’s ear. He leans his head into the scratch, thoroughly enjoying it, your long nails far scratchier than Jungkook’s. It’s not the same - Jungkook is far stronger, so is a little rougher which suits Bam just fine. Still, he likes your scratches better than no scratches at all.

Jungkook whines. “I miss him.”

“He misses you, too. Want me to call in the morning?”

Jungkook shakes his head. “We’re up early tomorrow, heading over to Haedong Yonggungsa in the morning. Probably be up before you. Send me pictures though.”

“Will do. Night, buddy.”

“Night gremlin,” he smiles, and then begins to coo. “Night Bammie. Daddy misses you.”

He wishes you wouldn’t look at him in the way that you do when he says that; lips turned upwards at the very corners, dimples pressing into your cheeks, eyes bright.

“Shut up,” he says, but you’re already laughing.

“Daddy.”

“I am his dad!”

“Daddy.”

“Oh my god, fuck off,” he laughs. “Have nightmares, gremlin.”

“Sweet dreams, Daddy.”

“Fuck off!”

You hang up before he can protest your taunts any more, though he does text you one final ‘fuck off,’ and a reminder that you can bolt his front door if it will make you feel safer.

His apartment is in a high-rise, and his neighbourhood is far nicer than yours. You do the bolt up regardless, and think that it’s sweet that he considered your comfort enough to remind you about it.

Bam sits by the sliding door of the bathroom, the tips of his paws just teetering over the line of the door frame. He rests his head on his legs, snout angled towards the hallway. It still makes you feel a little weird. You don’t really want a dog watching you shower, even if he is a dog and has no real understanding of what’s happening - so you turn your back to him and just reassure yourself that Jungkook showers with the door open wide.

It’s a funny thing, to think about your co-worker’s showering habits. Not one that you’ve ever thought to indulge in before - but Jungkook would go ballistic if he heard you refer to him as your ‘co-worker.’ You’re friends. Pretty good ones, at that.

You’re level players at your company; earn the same wage, hold the same rank. There’s not really any competition between the pair of you - you work in different departments - but are often paired together when the two sections merge for joint projects. You make for a good team.

Over the years, you and Jungkook have also learned that you’re a highly capable team when it comes to playing beer pong against your colleagues on Friday nights, and at the mixed-doubles tennis tournament that your company insists on you participating in every year. It’s either that or be on the Christmas Party Planning committee, and you know which you’d rather do.

Thinking about tinsel in August? No, thank you.

There is however one crucial flaw to your partnerships: how you live your lives. How you manage your money.

See, Jungkook is frugal. He makes big investments - his apartment, his cars, games consoles, Bam. Doesn’t spunk his cash away on the small shit. His apartment is in the heart of the city, only a few floors from the very top. He gets a birds-eye view of the world around him. You don’t even want to imagine how much his deposit cost.

Probably more than you have in your savings. You do spunk your cash away - on the small shit, no less. Clothes, cafes, that sort of stuff. Nothing that holds permanence. It frustrates Jungkook to no end. He thinks you could have a better life if you just used your money wisely - but you’re happy in your slightly cramped apartment, happy when the serotonin of a shopping spree boosts your mood, happy when you’re laughing with your friends over coffee and cake.

You wouldn’t be happy if you felt restricted. You think that Jungkook is.

He disagrees. He has enough in the bank to buy whatever he wants. He has financial freedom.

But there’s a difference. You’re both free in your own ways.

It’s for that reason you’d never work as a couple. Would infuriate one another far too much. Everyone who is close to you both knows this; how badly suited you would be. They’ll joke about all of the women in the office trying to get their mitts on Jungkook - even the married ones - but not you.

It’s funny because they’re right. Everybody wants him.

He collects stars from their eyes and accumulates them in his own. The girls blush and giggle about how he looks at them with galaxies, but they don’t realise what a thief he is. Don’t realise he’s stolen their shine, and incorporated it into his own. A spotlight follows him, and you enjoy watching the show unfold with an amused grin whenever a new secretary catches his gaze for the first time.

It’s not intentional. You don’t think Jungkook realises he does it. In fact, he hadn’t realised that it was such a pattern of behaviour until the midnight squalor of a dive bar had you talking about office conquests, and how the photocopier room had seen his bare ass more than it had seen toner changes.

“Shouldn’t shit where you eat, Jeon,” you’d grinned.

“Firstly, that’s a horrible phrase - and secondly, it takes two to tango. They’re just as much to blame as I am.”

But they’re not. He’s the only repeat offender.

“And anyways,” he had deflected, sinking down the final dregs of his beer. “Don’t act like you’re some kind of saint. Everyone’s fucked a colleague at least once.”

You’d just raised an eyebrow.

“You’re telling me you haven’t?”

“Like I said - shouldn’t shit where you eat, Jeon.”

Now, if he’d have said housemate, you would have folded. Downed your drink. Ordered a repeat round.

Something about a shared space - domestication - really gets you. It’s joint laundry loads, shared dinners, movie nights; grocery shopping, D.I.Y. furniture, arguments about who gets the bigger room. More often than not, it never matters, ‘cause you just end up staying in theirs.

You live alone now. After the third time, you knew better than to let yourself fall into the trap once more.

He learns about your affliction a few months later, and goes on tease you relentlessly.

In fact, he mentions it when he propositions you a few weeks before Chuseok. You had both spent the last couple of holiday periods overworked, slogging through the festivities. For the first time since either of you can remember, your workload has eased up.

You’ve already told him you’re planning on doing sweet, sweet fuck all. You’ve told your family you will be working, because you just want to finally breathe for a while; stay in with a tub of ice cream and your favourite films. Speak to no one. Do nothing.

“I’ve got a favour to ask you,” he had said as he approached your desk before the end of the day. It was a Friday, but you weren’t heading for after-work drinks with the usual suspects like you typically did. You had a date, instead. A third one with the same guy - Mingyu - which felt like a miracle. Even Jungkook was a little shocked that the poor guy wasn’t sick of you.

“Go on,” you had mused as you checked over your to-do list for the following week.

“You gotta promise me something first.”

“Promise you what?”

“That you won’t fall in love with me.”

You’d swatted him away the ruler on your desk, and told him to get his head out of his ass. “Been able to resist your charms this long, Jeon. Give me some credit.”

“It’s only ‘cause you know I’d reject you, you little gremlin.”

“I thought you wanted a favour? Funny way of going about it.”

“Sorry, sorry. You’re right,” he had conceded with an apologetic smile. “Forgive me.”

“What do you want?”

“How would you feel about potentially staying at mine over Chuseok to look after Bam? My parents want us to head down to Busan for the weekend and see relatives seeing as I’m finally free and know it’s a big ask but I-”

“Oh my God, yes?!” You had smiled so wide Jungkook thought you might fracture your jaw.

You love Bam.

In fact, he might just be your favourite thing about Jungkook.

Occasionally you walk him with Jungkook on the weekends, when you’re both hungover and need to get out of a slump. You’ve grown up with pets, but moving to the city in your early twenties to pursue your career meant apartment living.

You’re a rural girl deep down, and would never want to keep a pet in a high rise.

Jungkook manages it, but he goes home at lunchtime to walk Bam during the winter. In the summer, when it’s too hot, he goes home at lunch regardless, to lounge around with Bam under the air con.

Sometimes, you go with him. Bam is always pleased to see you.

Jungkook lied and said he asked around because he didn’t want to inconvenience you.

Truth is, he wouldn’t have trusted anyone else with his baby. He’d never spent a night away from Bam. Hated the idea. Despised it, in fact. He would have just taken Bam with him to Busan, but didn’t think it would be fair to force him on the journey from Seoul.

Over in Busan, when Jungkook hangs up, the conversation isn’t over. It continues in his head.

“Hey, wait…”

“Mhhm?”

“You just… look nice tonight, that’s all.”

He thinks you’d blush. Would tell him to lay off the soju. Accuse him of getting too drunk for a family get-together. He’d let you. Would take the beating of your false accusations, because it would be far easier than admitting he’s not had a single drop.

He thinks of the hug he’ll give Bam when he gets home; how wild his tail will waggle, how he’ll jump all over the place, and how you’ll be giggling. In his mind, you’ll be smiling just as wide as he is.

You’d stay for dinner. Jungkook would order from your favourite place to say thank you. Bam would snuggle up to Jungkook - on the sofa - and you’d be on the other side, stroking his back. He’d be happy. Bam, not Jungkook. But also Jungkook. Hopefully you, too.

When the time would approach for you to go home, you’d offer to help. Rinse out the containers. Hair up in a claw clip, t-shirt off your shoulder like it so often is.

Jungkook doesn’t notice, but his hands begin to trail down his body as he thinks of you. His phone is still on his chest, rising and falling with every beat of his heart. The tips of his fingers stroke against his skin.

He thinks of you laughing with him about something inconsequential. You’d flick water in his direction when he’d make some joke at your expense. It’d all be in good humour.

But then he’d flick some back at you, and water war would break out. Bam would run excitedly between the pair of you, Jungkook chasing you around the kitchen island with wet hands - and you’d do the exact same back. You’d flick water over the counter, tap still running and he’d call you a gremlin.

There’s a smile on his lips as he thinks of his. His hands roam further south. He’s ticking at his abdomen. It’s nice. Feels calm. He likes to engage his senses when he thinks of scenarios like these. Makes it feel more real.

But then he’s thinking of your shirt and the fact it’s white.

And then he’s imagining catching up with you, holding you captive as he angles the tap towards your face. You’ll be shrieking and scrambling to get away, Bam by your feet, Jungkook laughing.

He’d relent, but only enough for you to twist to face him.

Jungkook’s fingers are by his thighs. Stroking. Caressing. He’s avoiding his cock. Knows it’s firm. His index finger spreads to his balls. Teases.

And then he thinks of your body pressed against his torso, your ass to the counter.

You’d both be soaked.

He’d look at your lips. Look in your eyes. Feel your chest against his. He’d swallow hard.

It’s at this point he forgets about Bam in the scenario. It’s just you and him.

His palm rests over the length of his cock. Presses down. His hips roll.

He’d tell you that you’ve made a mess. You’d tell him to clean it up. His heart would be racing. So would yours.

And it’s funny, because his heart actually is. It’s beating so fucking hard in his childhood bedroom, that he thinks his parents must be able to hear it through the walls.

He’s in a far-too-firm single bed, but in his head, he’s with you in his kitchen.

He begins to grip his cock, long fingers wrapping around his shaft. He pulls up. Pushes back down. Says your name. Whines.

He doesn’t even really realise he’s doing it.

Just thinks about you.

Thinks about the way it would feel to sink his lips into yours; the first bite of a forbidden fruit. Thinks about that quick tongue of yours, and if it would be just as quick to find its way into his mouth. Thinks about your manicured nails that Bam loves so much, and how they’d scratch against his scalp instead. Thinks about the way his hips would rock against you, kind of like they are now; pulsing beneath his duvet.

His mind jumps. Skips the foreplay. Doesn’t mean to - but the thoughts are intrusive. Insidious. Insatiable. He can’t help it.

He pushes up into his hand. Pauses. Waits out the feeling. Retracts. Repeats.

In his head, it’s you that he’s pushing into.

The sensation is entirely different, granted, but - fuck - he hasn’t gotten himself off all week and hasn’t had sex in far longer, so it all feels the same to him.

He hasn’t worked out the mental logistics.

His imagination is jumping from the kitchen to his bedroom and then back to the kitchen again. Can’t decide where all of this is happening - and then suddenly, he finds himself railing you in the utility room.

You’re perched above the washer, held in place by him. He can smell the laundry detergent. He’s got spotlights in the room, but they’re turned off. Only lights from the hallway and the city skyline illuminate you.

It’s obscure. The shadows in his head conceal you a little. He’s gripping your waist beneath your shirt. The baby gate which keeps Bam out of the laundry room is closed.

You’re not talking, just fucking, fucking, fucking and -

“Fuck,” he whines, hand is jerking at his cock, heart rate stuttering.

He shouldn’t be thinking about you like this.

Shouldn’t let his mind jump again to a point where you’re fucking naked, and your sodden shirt is on a pile of yet-to-be-done laundry.

But then it jumps again, and one of his towels is on the floor. He’s laying down, back against it. The same position that he’s in now in his childhood bedroom - but he’s thinking about you. The silhouette of your body. The warm curves of your body. The way you bounce on his cock and then-

Oh god, it’s torture the way his cock throbs. Pre-cum leaks from his tip as his speed builds. It’s just a fantasy. Nothing more nothing less. But it’s you. And then he’s thinking about pulling you down for a kiss, and the scent of your perfume and the way you’d moan into his mouth and then his legs are shaking, torso tensing.

He’s taking it too far. Too fucking far. You. Fuck. He can’t. But he doesn’t stop. Just keeps going. Fucks his hand like it’s your pussy.

He’s pulling himself closer, closer, closer, and then he thinks about your voice, and the way you called him Daddy, and he can’t help himself. The pressure that releases in his stomach is catastrophic. Jungkook mewls your name. Calls you baby. Unloads all over himself. White hot cum paints his belly. Seeps into his belly button. Makes a mess of his hand as he coaxes the last few ropes out. It’s been a while since his last nut, but the amount he produces is not fucking normal.

It rolls down the side of his toned torso, Jungkook swallowing harshly as he tries to regulate his breathing. He doesn’t think he can. Doesn’t know what to do with himself. Just kind of lays there. Curses. Knots his brows together. Is frustrated with himself.

You’ve been friends for years. He’s never done anything like this before. He chalks it up to nothing more than him just being a little too horny for his own good. Cleans himself off. Puts his phone on charge. Berates himself for being a piece of shit. Spends a good ten or so minutes staring at the ceiling with an empty head before he falls asleep.

And it’s funny, because when you wake up in the morning, panties damp, the dream you had about Jungkook railing you in his own damn bed, you find yourself looking across the space where he usually sleeps. You reach ouch. Stroke the emptiness. Curse. Spend the rest of the day unbearably horny. It frustrates you. Makes you snappy with Jungkook when he calls.

He asks if you’ve seen Mingyu. You tell him no. He says maybe you should - but makes sure to add, “He’s still not allowed in my apartment.”

“I’m not gonna bring anyone into your space, Jungkook.”

It’s something he knows, and something he trusts you not to do, but he’s still reinforcing boundaries. Making sure that there are still some left. He thinks that if he pushes you closer to someone else, it will sort his brain out. Alleviate him of the guilt that he’s feeling.

But you don’t see Mingyu.

When Jungkook calls again that evening to find you walking Bam alone, he’s pleased. Doesn’t want some guy you’re fucking anywhere near his most prized possession. Bam, that is. Not you. But now that he thinks of it, he finds he doesn’t want Mingyu anywhere near you, either.

“Good day?” You ask, voice a lot lighter than it had been earlier.

Jungkook nods, but he doesn’t really smile. “I miss Bammie.”

You pout. “He misses you too. He’s gonna be so excited when you get home.”

The camera switches to the back camera so he can watch Bam bound along the path. He’s on his lead, snout sniffing in all the flowerbeds. It’s dark out, but there are enough lights on the trail for him to be able to see clearly.

“How is he? Eating okay? Going to the bathroom okay?”

“Eating like a champ, and producing shits to confirm that,” you say flatly. It’s definitely your least favourite part of animal ownership - but the reward is so much greater than having to pick up shit off a sidewalk.

“That’s my boy,” Jungkook grins, before turning his focus to you. “You all good? Seemed a little stressed earlier.”

Jungkook’s expression doesn’t change when the front camera flips back to you, but he finds his heart racing again. When you turn your head to check the car that’s driving past, he notices your hair is up with a claw clip. Just like it was in his… thoughts about you the night before. He likes how attentive you are - how you checked the source of the noise. You’re protective. Follow your instincts. Thinks you’re the best person he could have asked to look after Bam.

“I’m all good,” you say, and you really are.

“I know it’s not exactly the relaxing Chuseok you were planning-”

“Jungkook, it’s fine,” you smile. “It’s been nice. I like Bammie far more than I like you.”

“Understandable.”

You both smile, and Jungkook begins to babble about his day, telling you stories about his parents, and his weird cousin who never knows when to not say inappropriate things, and the aunt who keeps trying to set him up with all of her friends’ daughters.

“Don’t shit where you eat,” you remind him. “Sounds too close to home. Your auntie would never be out of your business.”

“I know, I know,” he rolls his eyes. “And hey - it’s been, like, a year since I last did that! Cut me some slack, gremlin. Anyways, Mingyu works in our building. You’re basically shitting where you eat.”

“I’m actually… I think I’m gonna cool things off with him.”

“Oh?”

“It’s like not a big deal. I’m just not really feeling it.”

“I’m sorry.”

“No, you’re not.”

“No, you’re right. I’m not,” Jungkook admits, but is sombre as he does so. He remembers how happy you’d seemed after the first few dates. “But I am sorry that you haven’t found the right guy yet, gremlin.”

“Who knows, maybe I’ll find the love of my life at the dog park tonight.”

“You are not allowed to use my baby as a flirting tactic.”

“No?”

“No.”

“Too late - I’m already here and there is an absolute DILF. Byeeeee.”

“Wait, no-”

You hang up before he can finish, with a grin on your face to rival a Cheshire cat.

The park is empty. Not a single DILF in sight. You ignore his call when he rings back. Will let him sweat it for a bit.

Jungkook lies awake that night.

Doesn’t do much.

His family are still chatting in the sitting room, but he can’t draw himself away from the sanctuary of his own private space, where your voice is still echoing around the room. He’s starting to understand why you’d been craving your space so much for the holiday period.

He doesn’t wanna have to return to the room with a false smile, and a feeling in the pit of his stomach that could rival the ache of getting the ferry across Busan harbour during monsoon season.

Doesn’t want to form cognitive thoughts that distract him from his mindless reflections of you.

Jungkook’s mind works like a house, and right now he’s in the annexe.

He rarely ever goes in there.

Finds he gets too comfortable and neglects the rest of the house. He’s got a garden to tend to, a kitchen to clean, and beds to make - but why would he leave the annexe when it has everything he needs? He’s comfortable there.

It’s normally reserved for the hyper-fixations he’s trying not to fixate on. He locks them away. Hasn’t really visited since he got hooked on GTA5 when he should have been studying for the University Entrance Exam. It’s still there, and he knows better than to pop it in his games console - but there’s someone else on the couch, now. It’s not just him in his mind-annexe. Someone’s in his space. He daren’t let himself go further into the room.

In fact, he’s desperately trying to jump across to the main house. Get himself out of the thoughts that are gonna consume him. He needs to close that God damn door.

But he watches the figure like a car crash. He’s scared. Unable to look away.

Not for fear of it being a monster hidden in the depths of his mind.

Quite the opposite, actually.

Monsters don’t wear their hair up with butterfly-shaped claw clips, or let the clasp of their necklace trail down their spine like that. Monsters don’t twist their back out of habit just to make it click. Monsters don’t spend their days doodling in a journal like the figure on his couch is doing.

But you do.

An iteration of Bam rests up against Jungkook’s leg in his mind, nose wet, tail lightly wagging, so he puts his hand on his pup’s shoulder for comfort. To support him. To guide him away from the annexe and back into the damn main house.

“C’mon,” he says to Bam, expecting him to leave. Expecting him to follow his commands.

It’s his head, after all - but Bam doesn’t heed his commands. Instead, his claws click against the hardwood floor and towards the figure on Jungkook’s couch. A palm outstretches, and Bam leans into it. Hums in content as a set of dark nails scratch at his ear.

“Hey, baby Bammie,” the figure sings and Jungkook knows that voice. Knows it so well that it’s hardly a surprise it’s embedded into his brain so perfectly.

And he knows.

He knows if he lets the person turn around exactly who it’s gonna be. He knows that he can’t let it happen. He won’t.

Because he and you are friends; nothing more, nothing less. Incompatible at best. A match made in hell; so wrong it could never be right.

Jungkook sits up. Shakes his head. The world in his mind tears away into darkness. He stands and tells himself to get a grip before joining his family. He needs the distraction. Needs to have cognitive thoughts. Can’t let himself get trapped. Can’t let him kid himself into thinking that you’re anything more than his friend.

It’s just cause he’s missing Bam, he reasons. Emotions are getting all mixed up. It’s the affection he feels for his beloved best friend that is getting misplaced onto you - although, if he thinks about it (which he won’t (knows better by this point (knows his mind can’t be trusted to behave))), he’d realise that you are his best friend.

It’s unfair to compare you to Bam because you’re an entirely different species, but there’s no other human he likes better than you.

One more day, and he’ll be home. One more day, and he won’t have to call you when he’s all sleepy and confused over his feelings. One more day, and things will be back to normal. One more measly day.

And then he’ll be reunited with Bam, and he won’t have the stress of family or thinking about the week of work ahead to contend with.

One more day. He can do this.

He will do it. Will barrel home at the speed of lightning; will stop only for red lights and maybe the occasional gas station snack, potato spirals on a pointed wooden skewer and deep-fried chicken slathered in a sauce he can never quite figure out the recipe for.

He’ll think about picking you up some bungeoppang - the ones filled with choux, not red bean paste - because he knows that you adore it so. There have been occasions when you’ve begged him to drive you out of the city to the large gas station out West just so you could have bungeoppang from one specific stall.

The signage is faded, and the prices haven’t changed since 2009, but that’s how you know it’s the good shit. A family recipe batter passed down for generations. The woman who makes it is always the same, and though she never remembers you, you always remember her. Beam so brightly Jungkook thinks he’s going blind whenever you spot her.

It’s only because of that one time you’d showed up with the sole mission to retrieve some of the delicious delicacies, only to be confronted with a handwritten ‘closed today, back tomorrow’ note taped to the menu. You never know when the next family emergency or trip out of town might be for your beloved bungeoppang-making Ajumma.

It’s a little after midday when Jungkook’s car rolls into the gas station. He’ll be home soon.

He tells himself that he’s just doing as he always does. Will get his tornado potato. Wolf it down. Go back for some chicken, maybe some tteok.

He’s stayed out of the annexe today. Doesn’t even think about the doorway because he knows the magnetic pull is far too strong for his cobalt heart.

Had ignored your call this morning - sorry, just saying goodbye to everyone. will see you later. - and had pushed all thoughts of you to the side. He’s even tried to stop thinking about Bam because thoughts of him will inevitably lead to thoughts of you and Jungkook is getting dizzy, quite frankly. It’s like he’s chasing his tail, never knowing when to admit defeat.

At least Bam gets enjoyment out of it when he does it. All Jungkook gets is lingering feelings of remorse.

But as he hits the home straight, a small paper bag full of choux bungeoppang cooling down on his passenger seat, his head starts to clear. He’s fixed the lock on the gate that leads to the annexe. Won’t go down that path.

Jungkook arrives ahead of schedule. Parks his car, and doesn’t tell you he’s arrived. Leaves his bag in the boot of the car, but picks up the pastries from his passenger seat.

Opens the door of his apartment quietly. You don’t hear it. Are too busy dancing around the living room with Bam to some mid-noughties classic.

“Hey,” you laugh a little breathlessly as finally notice him. He’s leaning against the wall. Is wearing his glasses, to make up for the long drive. You think it’s a crying shame he doesn’t wear them at work, too.

“Was I interrupting something?”

“No, not all,” you say. There are deep creases below your eyes, testament to the size of your smile. “Me and baby Bammie-” you reach over and stroke at his sides, a little rough and tumble, but perfectly joyous “- were just burning off a little energy before you got home.”

Jungkook crouches, arms outstretched for Bam. The puppy knocks into Jungkook’s chest, legs all moving slightly out of coordination, excitable whines sounding in his throat. His tail wags so fast you think he’d be able to produce electricity if he really tried.

They match each other’s energy; delirious happiness, content only when in one another’s presence.

“Hey buddy,” he coos. “Daddy’s home. I missed you. Missed me too, hey? C’mere.”

His strong hands stroke Bam’s sides, and you watch how playful they both are with unadulterated awe. It seems absurd how similar the two of them are; man and his best friend.

“He was lost without you,” you confirm.

“It’s that right?” Jungkook pouts as he scratches behind Bam’s ears, cradling his face in his hands. “Did Bammie miss Daddy?”

Bam barks. Yes.

“Hey, I’m sorry, boy. I’m home now, though. Daddy’s home.”

Yes, you think. Yes, he is.

The night dissolves much like Jungkook thought it would. You stay for dinner. Watch crappy entertainment shows, and laugh at how absurd people can be. There’s warmth in his apartment, even though he hasn’t turned the heating on.

“You’ll never know how much I appreciate this,” Jungkook says softly as midnight approaches. Bam sighs. There’s rain on the windows, but the storm doesn’t bother him tonight. Not in the slightest. “Thank you.”

Your head shakes. Smile perseveres. “Happy to do it. You know how much I love Bam.”

Silence wraps around your words like a velvet bow, pulled taut. There’s no double knot, but there needn’t be. It isn’t unravelling any time soon.

“So,” you change topic. “How long do you reckon it will take the new secretary to fall in love with you? I’m thinking maybe four days.”

Jungkook wants to make a joke; tease you about how your mind jumped from how much you love his dog, to the idea of loving him. Not you loving him, granted, but it only took a few electrical signals between neurons for you to get there. Must associate him with love pretty closely.

“Four days? Far too quick.” Jungkook pauses. “You’ve been staying here for four days. Reckon that’s an appropriate amount of time to fall in love with someone?”

He’s being facetious. It’s all in jest and yet you feel your heart beat a little faster. Only for a moment. There’s a mild concern in your features, fearful that he can somehow sense the thoughts you’ve been having; the fantasies, the daydreams, the moments of weakness.

You look at him with eyes he doesn’t recognise. Your lashes are low. Sultry, even. Suggestive. Teasing.

And then, they roll.

“Jeon, you have those poor girls on their knees within a single ‘hello’. Don’t act like you don’t know it, you big old flirt.”

“If Bam wasn’t so peaceful, I’d kick you,” he mumbles, stroking at the dark fur behind his pup’s ear. Bam sighs, content to have him back. There’s a smile on Jungkook’s lips. Both are perfectly content. Both are happy to be with the people they like the most in the world.

“He’d just defend me,” you taunt. There’s a serenity to your jokes, and light-hearted banter that means nothing more, nothing less than just enjoyment of one another’s company. “I’m his favourite now.”

Jungkook laughs. Scratches a little firmer behind Bam’s ear. “You hear that, boy? Gremlin really thinks you’d choose her over me.”

You pull your torso back. Turn your body to face his. Let disbelief wash over your features, as if Jungkook saying shit like that’s a surprise. The movement alerts Bam, his head lifting, the chain links of his collar rattling. He looks over to you, then back to Jungkook.

“He LOVES me.”

“I thought dogs are supposed to take after their owners, though?” Jungkook teases. “And I can’t fuckin’ stand you.”

Your playful shock dissolves into narrowed eyes and a suppressed grin. Bam’s looking at you again, so you cup his dainty face and scratch the underside of his jaw. “You hear that, baby Bammie? How are you so lovely when your Daddy is such an asshole?”

Jungkook’s steady gaze lifts to you from Bam. You’re still cooing at the puppy, scratching beneath his snout, but Jungkook’s back in that damn annexe again. He isn’t smiling - but his eyes are unbelievably soft.

So, so velvety. Like satin, maybe; ribbons tied around ponytails. Brushed cotton, perhaps; his still-warm bedsheets fresh out of the tumble dryer.

Soft, like he imagines your hair would be; released from its claw clip, falling around his face. Soft, like he imagines your lips would be; pressed against his, in the privacy of his bedroom. Soft, like he imagines your laugh would be; soundtracking the living alarm clock that is Jeon Bam, as he bundles onto Jungkook’s bed at just gone six-thirty the following morning.

But then you look up at him, and his stare is hard. Still sparkling, yes - but diamonds, not stars. Concrete speckled. Pennies tossed in an empty well; the steel bolt of his door which keeps the outside world at bay.

Hard, like he imagines your teeth would be; tugging on his bottom lip in the shadows of his bedroom. Hard, like he imagines your nails would be; leaving a trail of ruby red sin down his back. Hard, like he imagines your laboured breaths would be; lips resting ajar against his, your very essence pouring into him as he pushes into you.

Hard. Soft. Confusing and conflicting, and just so unbelievably him.

“What?” you question, bemused by the way his demeanour changed. “‘Daddy’ really gets you, huh?”

“Does fuck all for me,” he says with a little temperance, but there’s a smirk on his lips. His tongue runs along the inside of his cheek.

A few have tried the moniker on him, but it never fit well. Would fall from their lips and crash to his bedroom floor. He’d just kiss them to shut them up.

But you… You have him reconsidering. Have him a little hot beneath his sweats.

It’s not really the idea of being your Daddy, but the concept of being one full-stop that has him adjusting his legs slightly. He’s a man of big investments, after all. No greater investment than starting a life with another person. He likes the idea of it.

Makes him think of you talking with a toddler - I’m not sure, baby, go ask Daddy -and the pitter-patter of feet across the hardwood floors of his apartment. Makes him think how gentle you are with Bam, and how wonderful he knows you’d be with a kid. Makes him think all kinds of shit he’s never let himself indulge in before.

When he goes to bed that evening, and his sheets are seeped in the scent of your perfume, he thinks of it all over again.

Thinks of you.

And realises he can’t think about you without his heart racing, any more.

The door of the annexe in his mind is broken, now. Off its hinges.

And apparently, so is he.

Shit.

#byholly #jungkook fanfic #jungkook fanfiction #jungkook angst #jungkook smut #jungkook ff #jk ff #jungkook x reader #jungkook imagine #bangtan fic #officeworker!jungkook #fuckboy!jungkook #f2l #hi bam!!!!#ian #jungkook fluff

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bimbobaggins69 · 1 year

Text

Fooled round & fell in love (part two)

Eddie Munson x fem!reader

summary: you’re in love with your best friend but your best friend thinks love is for losers, choosing to sleep around rather than settle down. You’ve had enough and you’re ready to move on from your feelings, luckily you find someone who might make that possible but does Eddie really hate love as much as he leads on?

warnings: slight smut 18+MINORS DNI, cussing, smoking, fuck boy eddie, buckle up for this one

A/N: I am SHOCKED and so GRATEFUL at the amount of love part one got, I can’t even begin to thank everyone who’s read it and left sweet comments, I really didn’t think this would get more than a few likes so this has really given me the motivation to keep going.

Thank you again to my love @myobmaya for reading and giving me the best live commentary 💗💗💗

───⋆☆─────────────

After Eddie leaves, you and Randy head out to the party. You notice his body language is kind of off and he’s a little too quiet but you chalk it up to pre party jitters which you happen to be experiencing

Once you pull up to the unfamiliar driveway Randy gets out and walks around to your side, opening your door

“Oh, such a gentleman” you say with a smirk

“Only for you, angel” he retorts back with a sly grin

He wraps his arm around your waist and leads you inside, once you make it through the door you hear shot in the dark by Ozzy booming through the speakers, this was definitely not like the typical high school jock parties you were use to

Randy makes his rounds greeting his friends and doing his best to introduce you over the loud music, once he’s done you both head to the kitchen for some drinks his hand never leaving your waist

You walk up to the table filled with drinks and snacks reaching for a red solo cup and filling it to the brim with the red concoction sitting in the punch bowl, it was so sweet you couldn’t even taste the alcohol

While randy heads towards the fridge to grab a beer, you turn around to scan the party with your cup half way to your lips, your eyes lock with the brown doe eyed metal head you know so well, you send him a small smile and turn around almost immediately, feeling Randy’s presence behind you

He grabs your waist, pushing your body close to his while smashing his lips to yours, you both make out pretty hot and heavy for a couple minutes, when you turn around searching for Eddie, he’s gone

Randy leans down and whispers in your ear, asking you if you wanna go find somewhere in the living room to sit, you nod and take his hand as he leads the way, when you both look around you notice one spot on the couch that’s not currently being occupied. Randy heads over and sits down pulling you to sit on his lap, you squirm for a few seconds trying to get comfortable but he grabs your waist trying to halt your movement

Randy pulls out a joint from behind his ear

“Do you wanna smoke, babe?” He asks with an unsure look

“Yeah, light it up!” You respond back trying to sound as enthused as possible

He hands you the joint letting you take the first hit, as you blow the smoke out you notice Eddie with his arm around some blonde girl, she’s laughing at some stupid shit he said, you eye them as they walk out the front door together, Eddie takes one last glance back at you before he disappears out the door with his flavor of the night

Your stomach does that little plummet you’ve grown so accustomed to, but you remember you you have Randy so it’s not as bad as it could be

───⋆☆─────────────

You and Randy actually ended up having a pretty good time, even though you had this almost dread feeling in the pit of your stomach that you couldn’t seem to shake no matter what you did.

you both smoked some more, danced a little and did a lot more making out followed by some groping

So once the party started to die down you were ready to go, you decided you were gunna spend the night at Randy’s place, feeling a bit anxious knowing what might possibly go down. You grab his hand and squeezed it looking at him while he drove trying to find something, anything in his features that could make you forget about the one person that seems to inhabit your mind constantly.

You keep telling yourself Randy’s good, he’s more than you could’ve asked for, he treats you great, too good even but that nagging feeling just won’t seem to subside

You give yourself a little pep talk before he’s pulling up to the parking garage

“You want him!” “Just have sex with him and forget about what’s his face!” “He’s probably balls deep in that girl right now, not giving you a second thought!”

“Wow, that last one hurt” you think to yourself

Once again Randy comes around to your side opening your door for you, this time you just shoot him a smile, still a little lost in your thoughts, he grabs your hand and walks with you up to his apartment

“Is everything okay?” He asks looking down at you with worried eyes

“Yeah I’m great!” The words rush out of you a little too fast

“Hey, if you’re nervous about us taking this further, you can tell me, we don’t have to do anything you’re not comfortable with.”

God, why is he so perfect?

“No, I know, but I’m comfortable with it if you are?”

He chuckles shaking his head

“I’m more than comfortable with it, baby”

Once you get into his apartment you both start kissing, unable to keep your hands off each other he softly pushes you up against the back of the door, running his hand down the side of your thigh, inching his hand up past your skirt, you let out a soft moan when his lips attach to your neck sucking and licking, you can’t help but think about Eddie in this moment

“Is this how he’d kiss me?” “How he’d touch me?” “God, what I would do for him to touch me like this!” “No, no! You’re with Randy, not Eddie!” You mentally scold yourself.

His hand moves up toward your panties, snapping the side of your thong back in to your skin, as he smirks against your neck, his fingers finally touching the spot you’re craving the most, he dips his finger past your panties, swirling his thumb around your clit, you let out a high pitched moan not expecting to be so sensitive, forgetting weed has the tendency to do that to you

He continues with his assault on your clit, you’re a moaning mess now, almost unable to even keep yourself up as you clench around nothing feeling your orgasm begin to creep up on you, your brain is so scrambled by the pleasure that when you’re cumming you scream out the first name that comes to mind

“EDDIE!”

Randy removes his hand from your panties, unlatching his lips from your neck, he’s looking at you like you just told him his dog died, and you couldn’t feel any lower in this moment

“What the fuck?” Randy spits moving away from you a little

“What’d you say?”

“Randy, I’m so sorry! I don’t even know why or how that happened, I’ve just had a lot on my mind lately and-“

“Do you like Eddie, or something? Like is there something going on there?” He says cutting you off

“No, no I don’t!”

You shout, way less convincing then you were trying to be

“Listen, I’m not blind, I can see the way you look at each other, and the way he looks at me when I’m with you. I like you a lot y/n but I don’t want to be holding you back if there is something there”

You shake your head signaling that you understand what he’s saying, as you bite at your bottom lip, but nothings really registering, you feel utter humiliation rush over you, your mind is completely clouded, as you internally curse yourself

“I really am sorry, I never meant to drag you into this bullshit, I really like you too, you’re a great guy, but I don’t know maybe I need some time to just get over him before I jump into something new”

“Get over him?” Randy asks

“Why not just tell him how you feel?”

“Because it’s not that simple” you say coming out more as a whisper

“Well if you figure it out and realize that asshats not for you, you know where to find me”

You give him a small nod and smile

“Do you want me to take you home?” He asks

“Yes, please” you answer back

───⋆☆─────────────

You decide to stay in and distance yourself from the outside world, you felt like a complete idiot, you humiliated yourself in front of the guy you were trying to move on with, how could you be so stupid and say another man’s name like that? You haven’t felt this low in a long time.

But little did you know the humiliation was about to get worst, Eddie was on his way to re-up on his stash at Ricks house, and apparently men gossip just as much as women because Rick told Eddie what had happened between you and Randy, all the grimey details.

That night while you were laying in bed still feeling sorry for yourself about the events that happened after the party, you got a phone call but you decided to let it ring

Not having the motivation to face anyone, it rang again, and then three more times before you started to get annoyed

You stood up from your bed and stomped over to the phone on your desk

“HELLO?!” You snapped

“Woah, sweetheart! Is that how you answer the phone for everyone? Or am I just special?”

You rolled your eyes so hard it hurt

“What do you want, eddie?” You spit out harshly

“I wanted to talk to you, I feel like we haven’t just talked in a while, I miss you.” He said while whispering that last part and your body betrayed you by making your stomach flutter

“Yeah, well I don’t really feel like talking, I gotta go” you rush out

But before you have the chance to hang up eddie is shouting

“HOLD ON, HOLD ON! Don’t hang up y/n!”

You keep the phone held up to your ear silently telling him to keep going

“What are you doing tomorrow?” He asks

“I’m not sure yet, why?” You question

“Well, I was wondering if maybe you wanted to come hang, watch a movie, order some pizza, you know like old times?” He says hopeful

“Um, I don’t know if that’s a good idea?” You say defeated

“Why? Your boyfriend won’t let you hang out with your best friend?” He scoffs

Eddie knew what happened between you and Randy but he wanted to see what you’d say about it

“Randy’s not my boyfriend, we’re not even really talking at the moment” you say while closing your eyes and taking a deep breath

Eddie smiles at the revelation, all though he knew what happened he wasn’t sure where that still left you and Randy, so this was music to Eddie’s ears

“Oh damn, are you okay? Do you wanna talk about it?” He says while putting on his best concerned voice

“No, I really don’t, honestly.” You say taking another deep breathe

“Kay, well come hang out with me tomorrow and I’ll make you forget all about what’s his face.” Eddie says with a suggestive tone to his voice but you surprisingly don’t read too much into it

“Fine, fine! I’ll go, happy?” You retort

“The happiest!” He says

You both hang up and now instead of dwelling on the stupid mistake you made, you’re thinking about how the hell you’re suppose to face Eddie and act normal.

───⋆☆─────────────

part 3

THANK YOU FOR READING!

PLEASE COMMENT AND REBLOG

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#eddie munson #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x y/n #eddie x you #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson series #eddie munson angst #eddie x y/n #eddie x reader

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creepswrites · 11 months

Note

Billy loomis x reader where she’s a very introverted person and it kind of messes up his plans at the party that night everything went down

i tend to write billy a very specific way, which is why i haven't written very much for him, but i hope you enjoy this! he's very interesting to write for! mayb in the future i'll do a story and touch on his mind more, we'll see

BILLY LOOMIS with a F! S/O who is very introverted

“Dude, when’s she gettin’ outta here?” Stu whisper-yelled at Billy, jerking his thumb over in your direction. “We gotta get a move on and you said she’d be gone by now?”

“I know, I know,” Billy sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. He knew bringing you along to the party would make his plans with Stu far more complicated than necessary, but it would look bad showing up without you. He cared about you - shockingly, after all he wasn’t exactly fond of most people - and he didn’t want you getting roped into his shit.

He wanted you to go home with some group of girls who left earlier but you had been too terrified to ask them for a ride. So, there you sat in the kitchen, sipping on a vodka lemonade without a care in the world, blissfully oblivious to your boyfriend’s plot to murder.

Billy sighed, turning his head to look at Stu. The two were sat on a couch as Randy talked about some horror movie to the remain few guests. Of course, soon word would reach them about their dead principal and Billy had no doubt they’d take off to go see. This had all been planned meticulously for months in advance.

He knew it wasn’t your fault for screwing it up. You didn’t know, that was the whole point. Problem was how to get you out. “Is Tatum still… around?” Billy asked Stu with a hard look.

Stu blinked once. Twice. “Dude I told you, I didn’t want anything happenin’ to her.” His voice was low. “If you want her gone, dude, that’s on y-“

“No, no, I mean,” Billy huffed, “if she’s still here, maybe she can take my girl home. Two birds, one stone, ya feel?”

Realization dawned on Stu’s face. “Oh, yeah, I getcha! I’ll go find her.” He stood with a dramatic flair, attracting Randy’s attention. “I’ll be right back~” He said, walking backwards towards the stairs, earning laughs from the people around the couch.

Billy just smirked to himself and focused on his red solo cup. Coca Cola wasn’t his favorite but he needed to blend in. As he took a drink, you slipped into Stu’s place. Dark eyes followed your movement as you snuggled closer. “You okay?” He asked softly.

Now, very few people knew Billy beneath his surface level. His real thoughts and feelings. Stu knew more than most people but no one had ever seen him completely. It made him feel safer. Like his disguise was working. Dating Sydney had been a welcome distraction, another piece of his plan perfectly in place. So her dumping him hadn’t been expected.

Finding you wasn’t either. But he was attracted to something about you. Something in his gut that told him he might be able to trust you with his darkness. Let you in on his and Stu’s work one day, when you could all look back on tonight as just a faint memory.

Not now though. Right now, he needed to protect you.

While he’d planned on killing Tatum for a nice, clean finish, Stu had been resistant to the idea. Your very presence may have just spared her from any involvement. Stu liked her and didn’t want to hurt her but, unlike Billy, he was aware he might have to cut his losses.

Your introverted nature may have given Tatum a chance to walk away.

“You okay, doll?” Billy asked you softly, curling an arm around your shoulder.

You slid more into his side, scrunching your face up slightly. “I’m… not a big party person.”

He chuckled, a warm sound he had practiced. “I know. It’s why I’m glad you came with me. I- I know its really outta your comfort zone, but I appreciate you coming with me.” Billy kissed the top of your head, resting his chin there. “Next date, you can pick.”

A soft giggle from you made him smirk. “Is this a date?” You teased, tracing odd patterns on his jeans. “Odd date for an odd guy, hm?”

Oh, if only you knew.

Stu smacked his hands down on the back of the leather couch, making you jump and making Billy shoot him an annoyed look. “Hey, uh, Billy?” Stu bit at his lip nervously, Tatum looking clearly worried over his shoulder. "Sydney's upstairs getting sick in the bathroom."

Billy frowned, scanning Stu's face and noting the ghost of a smile there. While he'd broken up with Sydney weeks ago, they still needed her for the final act. So they'd slipped her something that'd make her throw up but not do any real damage to her. A last minute adjustment to the plan but, sometimes, Stu had good ideas.

Quickly, Billy put on a face of alarm. "Oh shit, did something happen?

Stu shrugged. "Hard to say. Think she might need some help."

Tatum gagged lightly. "I love Syd, but no way. That's gross. I just wanna go home."

"Aww, not stayin' the night?" Stu teased, wrapping an arm around her waist. He kissed her temple as she looked at you.

You and Tatum got along fairly well. Being girlfriends of two best friends meant you two would have an easier time getting along versus hating each other. Besides, Tatum knew it wasn't your fault Syd was paranoid and broke up with Billy.

"Would you mind driving her home for me, Tatum?" Billy asked softly, brushing hair back behind your ear. "I should make sure Syd gets home alright and I don't wanna leave you here alone." Billy kissed your forehead softly.

You frowned slightly. "Are you sure? I don't mind helping."

Billy smiled at you, his perfectly practiced smile reassuring you. "I'm sure. I was gonna leave anyways. How 'bout I head over to your place after I help out Syd?" He asked, a smirk growing on his face.

You blushed as Stu giggled obnoxiously, him and Tatum gagging over the two of you. As if they weren't the king and queen of disgusting couples things.

Tatum took your arm and dragged you off the couch and towards the door. "You better make sure Syd gets home safe." She pointed a delicately painted nail at Billy and Stu.

Billy held up his hands placatingly. "So long as you get my girl home safe. Deal?"

Stu laughed and Tatum rolled her eyes, hooking elbows with you as the two of you marched out of the house. You liked Tatum, since she wasn't afraid to speak her mind and always defended you. She, of course, made sure you got home safe and sound. When you'd finally gotten home, you took a quick shower, changed into pajamas, and fell into bed.

You didn't even notice you'd fallen asleep until you woke up to the sun's harsh rays beaming down on your eyes from your bedroom window. A pang of concern came over you when you realized Billy hadn't come over.

Quietly, you padded down the stairs and saw your mother and father's eyes glued to the television. It looked like whatever had their attention had interrupted your dad heading to work and your mom from cooking breakfast. As you stepped closer to ask what was wrong, you heard the newscaster's voice.

"...police confirmed the killer to be Neil Prescott who broke into the house and killed five people - including his daughter Sydney - and then himself. The only two survivors were Billy Loomis and Stu Macher, whom authorities say are currently hospitalized due to injuries."

You stopped listening, adrenaline coursing through you and your heart pounded as you stared at the screen. Oh god, Sydney's dad killed all those people? His own daughter? You bolted for the door, not even bothering to change out of your pajamas as you made your way to your car. The hospital would no doubt be open, you thought as you backed out of the driveway.

All you could think of was that you needed to see if Billy was okay.

#🔪 creeps writes #slasher x reader #slasher fanfiction #slasher x s/o #scream 1996 #billy loomis #billy loomis x reader #billy loomis x you #stu macher #tatum riley #she's here for like. two minutes.

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bisexual-horror-fan · 1 year

Text

"Better Story, Improved Effects." Mickey Altieri X Reader.

Soooo I was re-watching Scream 2 last week while sick in bed and something finally clicked in my brain and I realized oh fuck, I love Mickey. So shit, here we are, his first smut! I dunno where this all came from but maybe it was just lying dormant under the surface and now it’s all out here to play and I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I did writing it! Big shout out to @eggsandbeer for the title, beta reading and to her and ALSO @ace-of-clubs-and-diamonds for the help on his character and all the hyping up since this was my first time writing him.

---

Part two now here.

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Rating. Explicit. Length. 7.3K. Mickey Altieri X FEM! AFAB! Reader. Warnings: Drinking. Cheating. You Are Randy’s Girlfriend. Shit Talking. Rude Behaviour. Manipulation. Making Out. Grinding. Dirty Talk. Vaginal Fingering. Oral Sex. Blow Job. Eating Pussy. Teasing. Banter. Orgasm Denial. Extreme Frustration. Bad Mouthing Randy. Filming. Sex Caught On Tape. Dub-Con. Voyeurism. Exhibitionism. Spanking. Masturbation. Cuckolding. Vaginal Sex. Squirting. Cream Pie.

—

The last way you wanted to spend your Friday night was attending a party solo and thoroughly annoyed with your boyfriend, and yet here you were.

You had been looking forward to unwinding from a hectic week with Randy, some drinks, getting a little messy, perhaps a bit publicly indecent. Then that turning from a kind of foreplay of its own to hastily finding a dark corner secluded enough to hook up with a minimal, (but still a very exciting and arousing), risk of getting caught.

But no, sadly, instead of getting to do any of that you were walking up to the party already well underway totally alone and all because Randy had other plans he didn’t bother making you aware of until about an hour ago. He bought a ticket to go see some movie he had already seen a hundred times, a fact you pointed out quickly that had him replying with equal speed, saying, “But I’ve never seen it on the big screen!”

As if that makes it all okay and would quell your negative emotions and upsetness about him leaving you behind and kicking off his weekend without you. He made some over the top, big and grand promises about making it up to you tomorrow and you rolled your eyes with an unconfident, “Uh-huh”.

It left your lips before he proceeded to try and smooth his departure with a few kisses that you barely returned and on top of that didn’t do much of anything to smooth down your ruffled feathers. He left in short order and you finished getting ready for your night out in a huff. Did you pour some extra effort into looking good so he would feel extra bad and stupid for ditching you for some lame movie? Yes. Was that just a touch petty? Also yes but who could blame you?

Soon as you pushed your way through the bothersome cluster of assholes that were all hanging out and talking in the doorway, for some fucking reason, seriously, who does that? Your first order of business was getting a drink.

The first one went down too quickly and quietly, you didn’t leave the drink station in the kitchen and certainly didn’t talk to anyone yet. One of your hands on the countertop as you gulped down the sticky sweet mixture. You made a second drink after the first and then decided to venture out and seek something out to make you forget about Randy, at least for a little while, the living room that was filled with music and people seemed like as good a place as any to start.

He was hoping he might see you here tonight but seeing you here alone was an unexpected treat. He’d caught sight of you the second you walked in although you did not spot him right off the hop.

He’d been keeping his eyes on you for a while and if Meeks was here there was no way he would have gone this long without latching himself onto you, he is many things, loud, opinionated, and fucking clingy. He doesn’t think there is a single time he had seen you two together where Randy hadn’t been hanging off of you, like he needed to touch you in some way at all times or he would be in physical pain otherwise. To be fair he isn’t sure he would be much better if you were his. None of your other friends were about and your expression told him you were upset, about what he didn’t know, and would he be a good friend if he didn’t walk over and check in on you?

You on an average day was already a treat for the eyes but on a night out like this, when you poured in that extra effort was truly something to behold. He made his way over to you, sliding up beside you, a hand tapping you on the shoulder as he asked, “What’s with the frown?”

Your head snapped up, looking to see Mickey right beside you, hand hovering over your shoulder and smile on his lips but eyes concerned. “Is my bad mood so obvious you clocked it from across the room?” You follow the question up by taking a healthy sip from your drink.

A raise of his eyebrows as he brought up his own cup, he’d crouched slightly when greeting you but standing back up to full height and with a half shrug as he said, “Well it is kinda hard to miss when blue is very much not your colour.”

You stifle a laugh into your cup before saying, “Cute, very cute.”

A grin breaks out on his face, he already got you laughing less than a minute into him walking up, this was a great sign. “Soooo what’s up?”

“Ahhhh-” A dismissive wave of your hand as you raise your cup for another sip, and he laughs, a shake of his head as he points to you, “No, no ‘ahhhh’, something is up so spill!”

“I don’t wanna bring down your night.” You say honestly.

He scoffs, “Doubt that you could do that, and what are friends for if not to listen to whatever is eating you?”

He made a good point. Maybe if you vented and got it all off your chest you would feel better? So you give in much easier than you probably should have. A heavy sigh and you take his hand with the one that wasn’t currently holding your drink, urging him as you say, “Okay, c’mon.”

Mickey brightens at the contact that you initiated as he lets you drag him off through the glass sliding doors leading to the backyard.

Sitting on the back patio you proceed to spill your guts, the thump of the music lessened now that you were outside, much easier to hear each other and talk properly. When you finished filling him in he was less than impressed to learn of the reason for your bad mood, what kind of idiot was Randy to ditch you like this? He was of course, nothing but sympathetic to your plight and your pain but also that not so small and sick part inside of him saw this as a golden opportunity, a perfect way to hopefully do what he had been dying to for months. He just had to play it right.

He started easy, saying, “Wow, no wonder you are so upset.”

You exhaled with a nod as you leaned back in your chair and that led to him following up with, “I mean I knew Meeks was a fucking idiot but this might be one of the dumber things he has ever done.”

A small shocked laugh spilled out and it emboldens him, he wants to lean closer to you but doesn’t want to push, not yet so instead he is continuing further before you could hope to respond, “Like does carrot top have any brains at all to rather pass up a party with you for a fuckin’ movie? I bet if I cracked his skull open all I’d find is some loose un-popped corn kernels and a pool of that artificial butter schlock they serve at the theatre he is at right now.”

“Damn Mickey, tell me how you really feel.” You responded before you giggled and he said with a sure nod, “I will! Randy fuckin’ Meeks is totally fucking brain dead for doing this and you should be pissed up at him.”

“Yeah?” You ask, fingers circling the rim of your cup and he said loudly, arms outstretched, “Yes! I mean Christ! What, you don’t think he deserves just a little bit of your ire for pulling this stunt?”

He makes a compelling argument.

He had you smiling, had you laughing and more importantly, he validated your feelings. The more you both talked, the more he decried Randy’s actions and backed you up as your second drink was finished, you felt it. The annoyance, the anger, the unfairness, you ended up telling him a few more things, disagreements and issues minor in nature that Randy had done to upset you, things you think you would be over but when a bit tipsy and upset, venting, it all comes bubbling up to the surface.

It really couldn’t have gone better, you giving him those few more insights gave him more chances to plant further unrest between you and him.

You felt insanely heard and listened to, and maybe it was your overall mood, maybe it was a bit of the drink, but everything he was saying made sense, perhaps Randy wasn’t that great a boyfriend, this movie thing might be indicative of a bigger problem in your whole relationship. Your head felt confused but that was lessening, the longer you chat, the more he insists Randy’s behavior is fucked up, you find it harder and harder to deny that it held weight and made sense.

All and all the conversation was around a half hour before he was encouraging you to get up, saying, “Enough about that asshole, it’s Friday night and look around, it’s a party! He’s out having fun and you should be too.”

He was right again and you told him as such, feeling less burdened, lighter and overall excited to have fun and put those awful feelings aside for the time being. “Yeah! No more moping, fuck him, it’s his loss.”

“Hell yeah it is.” You get up and the pair of you end up marching back into the party. Another drink, talking about not as heavy topics, snacks, sitting in on a card game or two, watching part of a movie that was playing on the tv, and a few hours later you were sitting almost shoulder to shoulder watching a very spirited game of beer pong.

You’d switched to water for a reprieve and during a small lull you said to him, “Hey Mickey?”

A questioning hum that had him turning his head to look at you, “Yeah?”

“Just wanted to say thanks for this. I was feeling really fucked up earlier and if you hadn’t stepped in I woulda had a totally shit time tonight but you completely salvaged it. So uhm, thanks.”

He smiles, a shrug before he says, “Least I can do, I sure as shit wasn’t about to let you sit around all dramatic and morose.”

You laugh before trying to defend yourself, “Dramatic and morose, huh? I don’t know if it was that bad.”

His silence speaks volumes.

You speak his name in a questioning and warning tone and he holds up his hand, a wishy washy and wavering hand motion as he said, “Ehhh-”

A scoff of mock offence bracketed with a laugh and you playfully punch him in the shoulder, “You dick! I thought you were saving me from my shitty boyfriend for the night! I didn’t know I was just trading one asshole for another.”

He plays up the impact, rubbing his shoulder as if it actually hurt and he says, “I’m just being honest, I thought you liked me when I was honest.”

“Honest or mean?” You fire back with a grin and he says, “There’s a difference?”

“For the average person, yes.”

All the back and forth was very fond and fun. You were feeling much better than you had been earlier by now and you suggested, “Wanna get out of here? Go for a walk?”

“Sounds good to me.”

You had no destination in mind. Just fresh night air and more conversation. As you meander about the topic, unsurprisingly considering you were talking with Mickey, the talking turns to movies.

“What do you mean you haven’t seen Stab?” He asked dramatically aghast, way too loud and head up towards the sky as if God themself would have the answer he seeked and you laughed, “I just haven’t!”

“Well we can fix that, no, we should fix that.” He insisted, a wave of his hand encouraging you to follow as he changed course, you turn to follow, a small jog to catch up to him, “What is it that good?”

“God no! It’s garbage.” He said with a look over his shoulder towards you as if you were nuts for even suggesting it was good. You laughed, “Right, so it’s garbage and so I have to see it?”

“Naturally.” He said with a confident nod, hands sliding into his pockets as you fell in step beside him and you say, “Isn’t it not out of theatres yet? I doubt a show is gonna be happening past midnight.”

“No worries about that, I got a bootleg.” He assured and you asked incredulously, “A bootleg of this garbage movie that you don’t like?”

“Do you not own bootlegs of movies you hate?” He asks and you say, “No because I’m not a fucking psycho unlike my present company apparently.”

He laughs the comment off and soon you are at his place, you had never actually been here before. It was late but you weren’t in a rush to go back to your own abode alone, leading you to step into the door he was holding wide open. Wasn’t a bad place at all and you had it to yourselves, it was slightly cluttered but clean and no off putting smells or gross dishes or garbage so hey, a big win and a leg up on many other college living spaces you’d seen in your time here.

Your eyes wander over the space, posters littering the walls, books scattered around and other items as he puts the tape in before coming to flop down beside you with a smile, “You ready?”

“As I’ll ever be.”

The couch wasn't half bad, there was more than enough room on it for you and him and yet you didn’t stay far apart for long. As you watched and talked, Mickey pointing out flaws and inaccuracies, jokes and riffing you and he scooted nearer, until this moment right there, where you were just about shoulder to shoulder. One of his hands was on his own knee, the other one gesturing to the tv screen as he said, “I mean have you ever seen organs look faker? The colour is totally off, the blood spray should have been bigger and this is supposed to be outside! Where’s the steam?! The inside of a freshly ripped into body should be hot.”

It wasn’t like horror was your favourite genre and you are sure it isn’t his but you could appreciate the passion he held for the craft, for authenticity of film making, you keep the mood light tease, “Oh yeah because you know just what a murder scene looks like, right?”

He laughs, hardly managing to stifle it before he says, “You don’t know everything I’ve done, I could have all sorts of life experiences you are unaware of but besides that it doesn’t take a killer to know that based off the body's internal temperature if sliced into like that-” Another point to the screen, the mangled torso with the mess of red and innards on display, “-it would steam up in the fall evening air.”

You hum with a nod and then a line read on screen was so bad he started up again with another joke that had you laughing in a way that made it hard to breathe. He was piling on, you leaning into him fully now and then that is when his hand makes contact, again only after you touch him first.

A simple move from his own knee to yours, both cracking up and as you come down his hand doesn’t move, instead a simple squeeze as his gaze shifts from screen to you and back again. He is wearing that sideways grin that before tonight sure made your own stare linger a bit longer than it should for a person with a boyfriend, but now? It was having a different effect.

You’d thought about it, mostly before you got with Randy, but Mickey was a really attractive guy, you got along absurdly well and tonight he treated you amazingly, was here for you in a big way when you needed him. You weren’t even tipsy any longer, you can’t blame the feelings he was giving you on the alcohol. You were only human and him encouraging you to feel your emotions, validating them, the close proximity and clear chemistry you both had wasn’t helping this either. You were positive he was into you.

Were you seriously considering this?

He interrupted your thoughts, “You having a good time?”

The question startled you. Not just because he spoke but what he said, Mickey was a pretty self assured guy, the question might sound insecure in nature but it wasn’t spoken in a tone that lended to that. You play along and respond, “Yeah, yeah I am. Why do you ask?”

“Oh just know that what we got up to tonight probably wasn’t what you were initially planning to.” He responded with ease, not insecure, just concerned and you sighed, he was a really good guy wasn’t he?

“Yeah it wasn’t but that isn’t your fault it’s Randy’s for ditching, besides what we did almost all of what he and I would have anyway plus some extra stuff.”

You gesture to the screen and the movie you certainly wouldn’t have seen were it not for him. He asks next, “Well glad I could help give you a good Friday night but that almost all has me curious, what exactly did you miss out on?”

You were painfully aware of the fact that his hand was still on your knee, your eyes drew down slightly at the maintained contact, your shoulders still pressed together, your thighs touching, you leaning into him has created multiple points of contact that you were only just paying attention to now. His body was warm, he smelt good and the question he asked made your mind run back to your intentions at the start of the night, of that semi public risky fuck you wanted to have with Randy.

A subdued shrug, so small that if his eyes weren’t locked onto you and your shoulder on his he might have missed it, “Nothing two college kids in a relationship wouldn’t normally get up to post-party.”

“Ahhh.”

The silence that followed was heavy and tension filled and he said, his eyes moving over you in a way that could be read as more than just ‘friendly’, “Shame I can’t help you out with that.”

Fuck it.

“Couldn’t you?” The question was spoken with your gaze raised, gaging his reaction, the slight raise of his eyebrows and confusion on his features meets the small uptick of the sides of his mouth, “What about Randy?”

“What about him?” You bite back with a casual shrug.

This was too perfect for him but he still had to play this right. An amused exhale before he reminds you, “He’s your boyfriend?”

“And yet I am here with you, alone in your place and on your couch with him nowhere in sight.” And any remaining gap was closed by you, leaning that last bit, one hand meeting his cheek and you tugging him closer to kiss him. As soon as you made that final move, as soon as your lips met his all bets were off, this was happening, patience and hard work pays off and he can take.

The response you draw from him is immediate, a soft groan, his hands moving, finding your waist, shifting his body and adjusting his posture to better return your sudden affection. You move with him, allowing him to do what he wants, take more of the lead, something he seemed to do with a startling amount of ease, as if he expected you to not only bend but to be into it.

You were very much into it.

It wasn’t like what you had with Randy was bad but he was relatively inexperienced when you got together and still wasn’t the most confident without some major prompting and praise. He was a good kisser but more than that you had a great rhythm off the hop, found a solid groove with a natural give and take that seemed to feed into one another beautifully. His hands feel good on your waist, they are grounding and it drives you to want to touch him further. The thumb on your hand still cupping his face swipes over his cheekbone and you tilt his face to be closer still, a move he permits along with your other hand starting on his side before wandering up the expanse of his chest through his shirt.

His hands slip lower, you feel a rough press of him over your hips and then his hands on your outer thighs and he tugs, a further adjustment so you are underneath him, he is leaning further forward, his body starting to cover yours as the make out hastily progressed. The need overwhelms you first, he breaks the kiss and his lips drags down your jaw and further still, kissing over your neck and you arch, squirming your hips, grinding against him and he smiles against your throat from how well this is going so quickly.

Your fingers hook in the neck of his shirt, tangling, twisting, you pull, desperate for more contact as you grind again, he nips lightly at your pulse and you moan again, softer and so sweet, addicting for him to hear. Another few passes of tongue and of teeth that have your thighs hugging his hips and the next grind that happens is mutual, as is the breath that is caught in your respective throats. “Fuck, you’re better at this than I imagined.”

The smile on his face shifts to a grin that is outright cocky, one of his hands on your hip he pulls, makes you grind on him in a way that has your head falling back with a sigh and he asks, “Have you imagined me like this a lot?”

Your hands don’t stop wandering his body, feeling him and when you don’t respond right away, more concerned with the next move of your hips and the subtle rush of pleasure, he continues, “Thought about me being the one doing this when you’re with your shitty little boyfriend?”

A shake of your head, but you don’t stop, you start to tug, a silent plea for him to take off his shirt and one he gives into as you say, “He’s not that bad.”

He is sitting up on his knees, the lack of contact makes you want to complain but the fabric is peeled away and thrown to the side and any possible complaining is forgotten about. A scoff, “Sure, yeah, he’s a real great guy, hence why you were just grinding yourself all over me with your tongue down my throat.”

A laugh that is too light all things considered, “Shut up.”

He listens. Your hands on his shoulders yanking him until he is against you once more, your mouth crashing into his. Your body was warm and soft, you were talking about this being better than you imagined but he was stuck with the same realisation, you were a good kisser, had amazing give and take and of course the mental aspect, you were in a relationship but ready and willing, touching him, kissing him, it had him aching in his jeans. He started to tug on the bottom of your top and you broke the kiss in a hurry to free yourself of the constraining material. The sight of you in your bottoms and the pretty lace framing you up top turns him on so much more.

It progresses quickly after that. You spread below him on your back, your tongue parting his lips allowing his into your mouth, an action he completes with a small groan his wandering hands choosing to settle, particularly one finding its home between your thighs and you arched into his touch with a hushed, “Fuck yes.”

He lets out a pleased hum, your hands work with his, removing the remaining clothing to give him better access and when there is the last layer between you and his touch he asks in a tone that is as humorous as it is sickeningly sweet, “Am I allowed to speak?”

A hurried nod as you squirm, his fingers brush over you more firmly and he says, “You’re fucking drenched. I don’t think I’ve ever felt someone get this wet from just a little making out, how hard up for it are you?”

“Very.” Your breath hitches and he knows he’s found the right spot to focus on, fingers swirling over your straining clit through your damp panties. “Is he not doing what he should be?”

Your brain feels foggy, you are far more concerned with the sensation starting to wash over you, limbs feeling heavier, eyes half lidded and rocking your hips with the movement of his hand, “Who?”

He laughs, “Who? You already forgot all about him? That tells me everything I need to know that poor ol Meeks isn’t satisfying you.” Before any protest or defending of your boyfriend could leave your mouth he is tugging the crotch of your panties aside and feeling the bare heat of his fingers against you makes you gasp, head falling back against the arm of the couch.

You try to push out what you wanted to say, try to tell him, “I-I didn’t forget M’ just, ugh, distracted, you-you’re distracting.”

“Awe yeah, I’m a really big distraction, do I make it hard to think?” He asks as his fingers pick up the pace, pressing more firmly you moan and nod, “Yes! You do.”

“I could make it worse.” He teases and he moves quickly. Still shirtless, in just his jeans he is on his knees and tugging you further down the length of the couch, underwear half on, your legs over his shoulders his head dips down and his strong but soft tongue licking that first stripe over your clit has you crying out with an arch of your back.

He did make it worse. You couldn’t think properly as soon as the make out started, your mind was far too busy with him and the taste, feeling, the pleasure, it stole all logic and sense. With his lips wrapped around such a sensitive part of you, cradling your clit and sucking indulgently, pretty mouth latched on and tongue lathing over you between his lips, fingers digging into your hips and ass as he held you where he needed, you felt like you were threatening to fall apart in less than five fucking minutes.

Panting out his name, heels digging into his well toned back, fingers scrambling against the corduroy like material of the couch cushions as the feeling built, if he kept this up you’d be cumming against his talented tongue in about two more minutes. Thighs squeezing his head as well as your erratic breathing clues him into how close your end is and he pulls back, the wet strand of spit, the leash connecting his mouth and your clit breaks as he moves back, his fingers take over, messy circles drawn and you whine as the edge backs off from the change in pressure and technique, “How are you doing up there?”

His own voice sounded rough with arousal, the knowledge that he is into this, getting off on eating you out makes another wash of arousal soak into your brain, heart still pounding as you tell him, “Good, so good, please Mickey, keep going.”

“Keep going?” He asks, his head resting on your inner thigh as his fingers continue to dance over your pulsing clit, your tongue darts out, wetting your bottom lip, a nod as your eyebrows draw together, “Yeah, please? I was getting close, an-and your mouth is, fuck, amazing.”

He preens under the praise, “Oh is it?” He is playing dumb as his thumb comes down and he pulls your clitoral hood up, nerve dense tissue exposed and vulnerable, he blows gently and you shiver, body tensing, Christ, how were you so sensitive that even air passing through his lips felt this good?

“Ye-yeah, I wanna cum, please, please-” And he decided to tease you further still, he leaned in, tongue out and your eyes are wide, teeth tugging on your bottom lip, desperate to feel him again, for him to keep going, to push you over the edge. Less than an inch from contact he pulls back with a sigh, “I dunno-”

Your head tips back with a loud groan as you roll your eyes, “Fuuuuck, Mickey, c’mon, I’m dying over here!”

“Yeah? Does it hurt, yet?” He asks and you do notice a distinct ache along your swollen walls, a throbbing pain of denial in your clit steadily building and how awfully empty you feel at this moment.

“Starting to, yes.” You bite out and he says, “Maybe I should be nice and help you out.”

“Yes, please, please be nice to me.” You beg and with your head still back, staring up at the ceiling you are unprepared when he licks over you again, the yelp that leaves you makes him snicker before he says, “Sure, I’ll be nice, I’ll get you off.”

You ramble, babble out your thanks and his mouth is back where it should be, lips locked over your clit, licking, sucking, one of his hands sliding between your thighs and two fingers delve inside to aid further, you clench around them with a stuttered moan of his name. It takes about three minutes for you to be on the edge between him working your clit and his fingers fucking in and out of you, curling just so in and out again and again. “God, Mickey, don’t stop, don’t stop, M’ almost there-”

And then he does just that.

He stops, his fingers stay lodged inside of you, fingers pressed to that sweet spot he’d found with ease but no longer moving and you want to cry, you ask in completely frustration, “Mickey what the fuck?”

“I know, I know, I told you I’d help you out and M’ gonna, soon as you give me something.” You are looking down the length of your body to him between your spread thighs and are just about ready to agree to anything so long as he’d make you cum. “What is it?”

The grin on his face is positively wolfish, he licks again over your clit and you inhale sharply, “Nothing big.”

“No?” You ask and another lazy lick combined with a rock of his fingers he says, “No. I just want you to tell me I’m better than Randy is and I’ll make you cum your brains out.”

Your heart drops, you shake your head, for some reason, that wakes you up, makes the heat inside you cool, you feel like that is the line, that is too far, you say, “No, I-I can’t do that.”

He tsk’s, “Shit, guess you don’t want to cum that bad then.” He didn’t stop though. He didn’t pull away, far from it, he goes back to eating you out and fingering you he just kept fucking stopping before you could cum and he kept on posing that question, your juice painting his chin.

“You wanna admit it yet?” And you kept on telling him, “No-no, I-I don’t ha-have anything to admit.”

It made him laugh. He had two fingers three knuckles deep inside you, right now and felt your clit pulsing in pure frustrated need in his mouth less than two seconds ago but sure, you had nothing to admit. “I can feel how hot and worked up you are, how many times have I edged you already? You are a really, really bad fucking liar.”

“M’ not lying!” You attempt to assert but your voice wavers, “No? So I’m not better than Randy? He makes you sweat and tremble like this before he’s ever even made you cum once?”

You bite the inside of your cheek and refuse to meet his gaze. You want to thread your fingers in that stupid sexy messy hair and grind on his tongue until he makes you cum, not have this stupid battle of wills.

“Mmm, yeah that is why you aren’t able to look at me, because I am so far off base.” He sounds unbearably smug and he slides his fingers out of you and you almost break, you want to sob and plead for him to continue but he is sucking the mess that had coated his fingers and you again feel your mind going blank at the visual.

He is getting up and his erection pressed against the denim looks like it has to hurt, he was starting to undo his pants and said once he was standing at full height, “How about you return the favour though and see if your tune changes?”

That sounds way too appealing to you especially because you could pay him back with some torture of your own and torture you do. After taking in the sight of him bare, your mouth is practically watering, he looks frankly delicious and you intend to dine happily. Your hand locks around the base and you lean in, eyes staring up at his face as your tongue makes the first pass, intent on taking in his expression and how he reacts to the movement. It is positive to say the least, the slight inhale, the tensing of his muscles, and the small curse that spills out. Your tongue flicks over his flushed tip, tasting the ample pre-cum that he had been leaking, your lips close, a chaste kiss before you begin to move down one side of his shaft, he is impossibly hot and throbbing in your grip.

This is going to be too easy.

Is what you initially thought but you would also be very wrong, because even as you let him breach your mouth, even as you begin to suck and take more of him in, you don’t feel in control or empowered. You feel weaker and hotter, he made you feel so fucking good with seemingly such little effort that you being able to do the same, to pull such reactions out of him makes you want consider his previous offer more seriously.

You try to push those thoughts away as you blow him.

You gag yourself, choke on him and it makes him groan your name, his hips buck, he fucks in and out of your lips stretched around him and drool slips out, slides down your neck as you hold his hip with one hand, the other around the base of him still, hand working him in tandem with your mouth. You look up again, his eyes are still on you, on the length of him sliding between your slick lips, his neck and chest blooming red, flush from pleasure painted over his features as he pants and you squeeze your thighs together.

All in all you used your mouth on him for around five minutes before you break, pulling him out you ask, out of breath and needy, “Fuck me?”

Randy is coming inside after going to get himself some breakfast, it’s around ten AM, sun shining and he is carrying a stack of mail and thinking about giving you a call soon to make up for him bailing last night. The movie was a good time but he missed you, he didn’t do much after the movie, came back here and went to bed basically, he thinks you will probably be up soon. He is about to sit down on the couch when something catches his eye, namely, a tape half in half out of the VCR. He comes forward, he pulls the tape out and there are no markings whatsoever on it, odd.

He is curious enough that he thinks why not, he shrugs and pops the tape in, he walks back around the coffee table and is flipping through the mail again but what he hears gives him pause, makes him stop.

Hearing a very familiar modulated voice greeting him, “Hello Randy. Been a while. Seems like some stuff has changed for you, like the cute girlfriend, she’s new. I like what I have seen of her, how much I have seen of her, thought you’d be interested to see what she was up to last night that I managed to catch on video.”

And the voice over cuts out and instead he is hearing your voice, gasping out, “Mickey oh my fucking God-”

He pauses flipping through and looks up and what he sees playing out on the screen makes him gasp.

The video shows a well lit apartment, the main focus of the shot is a couch, the view is from the side and bent over the arm of the couch pointing at the lens is you, not a stitch of clothing on, fingers digging into blue fabric, open mouthed and moaning, with who the fuck else but Mickey Altieri behind you. He was fucking you and seemingly you were loving every second of it, your face twisted in bliss and rocking back onto him, “Yes, yes, yes-”

“Good?” He asked with a laugh and your head pitches forward, a shaky nod and you hum the affirmative, “Mmhm!”

“Yeah it is, fuck you’re tight.” His hand reaches out, he grabs your hair, wraps the handful around his fist and he tugs hard, you cry out and clench down on him making him suck his own teeth from the sharp jolt of pleasure, he is pulling your hair so your head snaps back up, making sure he is showing off your gorgeous expressions for the camera.

Little did you know that when he passed by the camera set on the counter earlier to grab his bootleg he turned it on, that it had been running this whole time. It didn’t take much to edit it, or to add the voice over or for him to sneak it into Randy’s apartment either, honestly it was too easy if anything.

Randy had dropped the mail and was slowly sitting down, he can’t stop watching as you rock yourself back, helping impale yourself on Mickey and moaning the whole way. His hand that wasn’t pulling your hair is sliding down and the cry that tears from your throat makes what he is doing obvious, fucking you doggy style and toying with your clit at the same time has you telling him in a few more thrusts, “Shit, oh, ohh Mickey, fuck, I-I’m close again, fuck-”

“You gonna give it up? You gonna say what we both know is true?” He prompts and you shake your head, “I-I cah-can’t, Mickey, just, let me cum, please-”

“Not till you say it.” His hand is out of your hair and laying a hard hit onto your ass that makes your back arch and finally you can’t take it any longer, your confession pours out, “You’re better than him okay?! Fuck, fuck! You’re so, so much better tha-than Randy, make me feel so good, he-he’s a joke next to you, God, don’t stop!”

“Oh there you go, see? Doesn’t being honest feel so, fucking, good?” Those last three words are bookended by a brutal thrust, another strong move of his fingers and finally you break, nodding along, agreeing as you cum chanting his name over and over like some broken and fucked up prayer, trembling the entire time as the pleasure tears through you and threatens to make you collapse.

“What the fuck…” Randy asks quietly as he continues to watch the scene unfold, watch as Mickey keeps railing you totally dumb and you agree with all the fucked up things he asks, drooling and telling him, “You’re so good, so much better, keep, ah, keep fucking me, please!”

“You think I’m able to stop now? Not a fucking chance.”

He can’t bring himself to turn it off. Even as you continue to insult him, even as Mickey makes you parrot back that Randy is quote, “A shit fuck-ing boyfriend who doesn’t deserve you.”

When you say it though it sounds a lot more broken and pathetic, "He-he's a shit fu-fuck-ing boyfriend who-who doesn't deserve meeee-"

Randy gets shamefully, embarrassingly, painfully hard as Mickey fucks you harder and harder, fucks you through another two more orgasms and a few more good position changes. Watching you ride him while he has a hand locked around your throat is hard to take, but the worst has to be when Mickey has his arms wrapped around you, fucking up into you and you are just trying to take it, legs shaking and too weak to do anything else but cling to and kiss him as he has you, as he holds you. That sloppy kiss is broken, your eyes squeezed shut as you are telling him for the fourth time since the tape started, “Mickey, I’m close again, God, yes!”

And not only do you cum, not only do you sob out his name as Mickey’s hard dick slips in and out of your well fucked hole, no, you end up squirting too, something Randy didn’t even know your body was capable of. Your moan bleeds, cracks at the edges and the man fucking you laughs, a blissed out joyful sound of disbelief, “Holy shit!”

The amount that comes out of you is impressive, he watches as the camera picks up the rivulets of liquid as they race down Mickey’s shaft and his sac and the quickly darkening stain under the pair of you as he doesn’t relent even for a moment. Mickey kisses you, deeply, sloppy and to add further insult to injury, after you are coming down from your orgasm, he breaks that same kiss he initiated and asked, “Randy ever make you squirt like that?”

And you laugh, eyes rolling back and a shake of your head as you breathlessly admit, dumb and cock drunk as you tell him, “No way, not once.”

The tape doesn’t even stop there, it goes on until Mickey is the one warning you minutes later of his impending orgasm and it is like you become possessed, your hands lock behind his neck, a burst of energy, motivated, you ride with abandon and Mickey doesn’t even have to ask, you are too far gone, you are the one who begs, “Cum inside, don’t pull out!”

He should get up.

He should turn off the tv.

He should take out the tape and smash it to bits but no, he does none of those things. He watches helplessly as Mickey’s hands grip your hips so hard Randy bet’s they will bruise as he holds deep and unloads inside of you. Mickey let out a groan of your name and you shiver and Randy is sure you can feel every pulse of him as he fills you.

The come down is sickeningly and stomach turningly intimate, he feels as if he is intruding on a private moment even though you are his girlfriend. He watches the kisses passed back and forth, the soft touches and he is about to wonder when the tape WILL finally cut when he hears that mocking voice of Ghostface again, “Pretty hot, huh? I think they make a good couple, what about you Meeks? You enjoy the sequel?”

And the screen goes black.

He sits there staring at the tv set for all of thirty seconds before he gets up and goes over. He doesn’t hesitate to hit rewind. He should talk to you, confront you about what happened, what this means, what you did but when the tape finishes rewinding he doesn’t do that.

He takes his original seat and frees himself from his pants and guilty enjoys the second of what is sure to be many viewings with his dick hard and hot in his palm.

#HOOOO BOY #HERE IT IS #Mickey Altieri X Reader #Ghostface x reader #BHF writing #Thank you again to Riri and Ace for all the assists!#I loved writing this so fucking much #Randy Meeks X Reader

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fanfichubcircuit · 5 months

Text

Bullfrog Alphabet NSFW 18+

While I'm working on the Bullfrog x Reader here's my sexy Bullfrog HCs to tide y'all over. Enjoy!

A = Aftercare (What they're like after sex)

Bullfrog is a very sweet person so aftercare can range from laying together talking before sleep to rubbing your sore muscles and cleaning you up. Whatever your comfort level is and whatever you need. You’d probably have to be forward and ask him what he needs. He also has like any juice or Powerade type deal you could want after.

B = Body Part (Their favorite body part of theirs)

Non-sexually he likes his eyes the best. He thinks they’re nice and bright and loves making them pop with his eyeliner. When it comes to the bedroom his tongue is his favorite. It’s really large and soft so his partners enjoy it, and he loves the excuse to taste who he’s with. If you have a size kink, he can definitely satisfy it.

C = Cum (Anything to do with it)

You could literally cum anywhere on him. The only rules are no eyes, nose, or ear holes that just sucks. He likes feeling the proof that you enjoyed it and secretly he likes being marked by it. He wants to mark you too across your stomach and thighs or your back and ass (He couldn’t reach your face if he wanted to). If he gets to cum inside he wants to hold it in. And if you gently wipe some of yours on his face he’ll melt.

D = Dirty secret(s)

He totally stole your underwear. You two had been hot and heavy the night before so it was covered in you. It’s the only thing he’s never asked you permission for, but he was going on a mission solo and wanted you there, so he figured this was the next best thing. Throughout the whole ordeal of sneaking into that facility he kept shoving his face into your underwear to fill his lungs with you. He’s a little sex freak, but he’s YOUR little sex freak. Besides you two were well established at this point he didn’t think much about it.

The other secret he thinks about waaaay too much in his opinion. He had a dream that you clamped a spiked dog collar on his neck and dragged him around, complimenting him in a demeaning tone. You roughed him up and made him beg for a leash. He woke up in a sweat, confused, and blindingly hard. He’s not new to rough sex or the talk the leash stuff however makes him feel.. guilty. He’s very open minded when it comes to sexuality, but being a hybrid the whole leash thing felt like something he shouldn’t want. He totally revisits it when he touches himself.

E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)

Before his guild sect of the brotherhood was wiped out, back when he was first training with all the others in his age group. A bunch of super athletic young adults in close quarters all the time? Yeah. It was as randy as the Olympics. As he got older and moved away from the guild’s main compound he kept in touch with his fellow assassins as fuck buddies until.. well. He also had his fair share of romantic flings and one-night stands. Bullfrog knows his work is dangerous so he’s not ever afraid to shoot his shot. He wants to enjoy life as much as he can and he wants whatever partner he’s with to be as happy as possible as well and with his plethora of experience he is very good at keeping people happy.

F = Favorite position

He loves when you’re on top and pin him down with your hands and your body. But he also loves 69’ing so whatever creative position makes that magic happen he’d be over the moon for. Definitely wants to combine the two. You’re scared of smothering him? “A truly honorable way to go, but I am much too strong for that.”

G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment? More humorous?)

He loves to keep you happy and isn’t afraid to be silly. Anything embarrassing that happens turns into a shared laugh before jumping back into things. Any anxieties he jokes away with you. He can be serious too, but he sees the value in both. It’s sex, and his ego isn’t fragile, he’s not afraid to laugh. He loves having fun with you.

H = Hang-Ups (Stuff to Work through possibly) Replacing Hair

See the Collar Dream*. Bullfrog is very leveled out, but he’s not the best at focusing on himself. He loves to give, but you will have to remind him to be selfish sometimes and voice what he wants more.

I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment? Romantic wise)

He is very intimate even when he’s silly. Being able to laugh and smile with you is a big part of it for him. But he also loves peppering your skin with kisses, tracing patterns into your skin, and if you’re down with eye contact he’s going to give you loads of soft heated looks up through his eyelashes. And the talk during? He’s either sweetly complimenting you or talking about your future together with such confidence you know no matter what Eden throws at you two you can handle it.

J = Jack Off (Masturbation Headcanon)

He uses his bubbles to relive past times instead of watching porn. He can also suck himself off he’s that flexible.

K = Kink (One or more of their kinks)

He has so many. But a few top ones are he loves to be teased and denied. He also likes being rough with each other as long as it’s safe. His absolute favorite is knife play with his hidden blades. The fact that you would trust him so much when he’s so dangerous really gets him going. He doesn’t even need to cut you just having it laying against your neck while he’s in you is enough to make him lose his mind. He would love to cut off your clothes beforehand. He would let you choke him or step on his dick. But if you’re not a fan of rough stuff he doesn’t mind just being soft with you. He is top/bottom sub/dom whatever floats your boat. He loves giving you what you want. Having the power to bring you pleasure. Also wants to watch you masturbate or get dicked down. Not as a cuckold thing, he just wants to watch you in pleasure and doesn’t mind sharing.

L = Location (Where?)

Where do you want to do it? He can probably make it happen. If it’s a crowded room with no hiding spots it might be up in the rafters though. Hope you’re not scared of heights.

M = Motivation (What turns them on?)

Anytime you do something that’s super cute or just reminds him of why he loves you he’s already planning what to do to you when you two have a moment. He just won’t tell you. Unless you like being teased as much as he does. That’s the other part of it if you try to turn him on you’ve already succeeded. Even if you totally fell on your face, he would find it way too cute.

N = No (Hard and Soft boundaries)

Hard Boundaries: No big wounds and nothing dangerous or permanent. He likes things a little rough, but he’s not a maniac about it. He doesn’t like being outright cruel either. He’ll tease, but it never goes that deep emotionally. Soft Boundaries: He doesn’t like roleplaying as other people. He’ll roleplay different scenarios about how y’all first banged etc. all day, but he doesn’t want to ‘be someone else’. If he’s gotta be a pizza delivery guy it’s going to be him as a pizza guy not some dweeb named Paul.

O = Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Already stated in B, but his tongue is so big and soft. King of oral. Loves to go down on you and loves to receive. He really likes 69’ing because then the two of you can get lost in each other, but it’s a difficult pose to find with the size difference. Wants to see how much he can fit in you.

P = Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual?)

After a high stress mission or long time apart absolutely fast and rough, but if he’s feeling romantic slow and sensual. Either way if you want something and voice it it’s yours. The pace is whatever you want.

Q = Quickie (How do they feel about it?)

Hand stuff and oral absolutely is a go whenever and wherever as long as you two aren’t in mortal danger. Full on penetration though? Nope. Not quickie material. Quickies in his mind are fast and free. Just giggling and touching each other without being super complicated.

R = Risk (Are they game to experiment? Do they take risks?)

Absolutely. He’s confident bordering on cocky when it comes to his skill set. You want to fuck in a space you’re not supposed to? He can get y’all there and keep you hidden. You want to try a new kink? He’s probably had experience in it and if not he’s a quick learner. He risks his life all the time. Risk in sex is a cake walk.

S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go?)

More than you.

T = Toys (Do they own any toys?)

Absolutely. He has some for himself, and some to use with a partner. A good assassin isn’t afraid to take advantage of his tools.

U = Unfair (How much they like to tease)

He’s very teasing when it comes to his flirting, but pulls back when it comes to the bedroom until you prove you can take it.

V = Volume (How loud are they? What sounds do they make?)

His breathes get heavy during, but if you’re doing your job, you could ring some sweet cries out of him. He’s not afraid to get vocal.

W = Wild card (Random Headcanon)

He knows how to pull. He’s not afraid to be cute and sexy and it is a deadly combo. That sensual look he can throw out just by lowering his eyelids? He knows what he’s doing. He’s making you laugh one minute then you look over to him. He’s on his side, head propped up on his fist so his arm pops, looking at you like that. “Would you like to see how flexible assassins have to be?” Yeah, you were screwed from the start.

X = X-ray (Let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

He does have a cock I mean he’s a hybrid he’s bipedal and has eyebrows he’s not exactly 100% bullfrog. But he doesn’t have balls and it’s a reddish purple instead of pink or straight red. Smaller than the average I would say about 4 inches, but he’s really thick.

Y= Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

Like I said before you being you turns him on. His drive is very high. But he also likes the anticipation so being ready more often than you and having to wait adds a little something extra for him.

Z = Zzz (How fast do they fall asleep?)

He loves pillow talk so most of the time he’s the last out. Unless it’s really cold outside and he’s snuggled against your warmth. He’s out like a light.

#bullfrog x reader #captain lazerhawk bullfrog #alphabet meme

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smartycvnt · 4 months

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Tribal Queen

Title: Tribal Queen

Pairing: Randy Orton x Reader

Summary: Randy fears the repercussions of dating Roman's sister.

Word Count: 659

Randy watched as Roman, Jimmy, Solo, and Paul walked towards the dressing room reserved for The Bloodline. He knew that he had been a piece of work in his younger years, but he hoped that he hadn't been that dramatic about things. Randy had always valued using the same locker room as everybody else. Even whenever he had been public enemy number one, he had still shared that space with his peers.

Roman had grown so paranoid and egotistical that he hadn't stepped foot in the locker rooms in over two years. Every member of The Bloodline was supposed to keep to that dressing room, but Y/n had always been different. She liked mingling around backstage, claiming to keep an eye on things. Randy knew different though. Randy knew the truth.

"Looking for someone?" Y/n asked as she sat down across from Randy. Catering was generally a fairly safe area for the two of them to sit and talk for a little while.

"I thought it was too dangerous for us to be seen together?" Randy questioned, throwing Y/n's own words back at her. Things had been different whenever she had told him that. Roman was reeling from WarGames and Jey's betrayal, something that Y/n knew he would never get over. She loved her little brother more than anything, but Roman was much more sensitive than he let on.

"Well, I'm just taking a seat. It's been a very long day of travel and appearances. Besides, Roman isn't very focused on me right now," Y/n said. She sounded bitter, and Randy wondered what kind of falling out they had on the way over. He hated that Y/n showed him the most affectioned whenever she was mad at Roman, as if she just wanted to get back at him.

"You're his sister, there is always someone watching your back and waiting to kick my ass for staring," Randy joked. Y/n sighed as she rested her chin against the palm of her hand. "Do you have a match tonight?"

"No, but I'm really looking forward to your promo, Randy. I miss getting to hear you talk, it's been too long," Y/n said. Randy tried to conceal his emotions and the thoughts running through his brain. If anyone found out about them, especially a member of The Bloodline, he'd be beaten to a bloody pulp. He hated the fact that they'd have to wait until his retirement match to officially come out as a couple.

"I should go get ready for that," Randy said. Y/n surprised Randy by leaning forward and pressing a kiss against his cheek. "Hey! I don't want to get killed by a bunch of angry Samoans."

"They'll be mad if they ever find out, but that doesn't matter. I didn't know you cared about what other people think so much," Y/n teased. Randy knew that she was baiting him, but that didn't mean he was above falling for it.

"I would really hope that you wouldn't want to see me get beat up by your brother and cousins. But I don't care what anybody else thinks, for the record," Randy scoffed. Y/n smiled at him and stood up to press a kiss to his cheek. "You're going to get me killed one day."

"Jimmy might be more scared of me than Roman, Paul can't hurt anyone, and Solo respects me enough to listen to me. If I give the word, they'll leave you alone. You aren't after Roman's title, this is your farewell tour Randy. I think you deserve a little arm candy, even if it is only backstage," Y/n said. Randy puffed his chest up a bit and linked his arms with hers. Y/n was certain that Roman would have some words with Randy next time they ran into each other, but it was nice to see him being so confident about their relationship.

#my writing #one shot #wwe x reader #wwe #randy orton x reader #randy orton

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kiss-theggoat · 10 months

Note

Could we have a part 3 to familiar??? I’m obsessed!!!

A/N: Thank you sm 🥹 I’m going to do a part 4 so stay tuned! I would upload it all together, but this week’s been very busy so I’m just writing when I can! Thanks for the patience :)

Familiar Pt.3

Billy Loomis x F!Reader (Also adding a little bit of Stu x Reader)

Word Count: 1.2k

Summary: You decided to go through with the plan, for Billy. You guess they were wrong when they said three's a crowd.

TW: Violence and Gore, Toxic Relationship

You sat still in your car, taking a deep breath Stu’s house loomed over you like a Rottweiler, foaming at the maw with an insatiable appetite for flesh. Thoughts of what you were about to do had you wanting to leave, hell, flee the country if you had to. Everything inside of you was screaming at you to call the cops, tell them what Billy had planned, but you couldn’t.

When you thought of him, your Billy, your chest was on fire. You wanted to be with him, no matter what it took. With this new found passion in your belly, you got out of your car, the knife sheathed in your boot pressing against your delicate skin, a dangerous reminder that you were going to become a killer.

You opened the door, greeting everyone with a smile that screamed normality. You saw Stu lounging on the couch with Tatum. Your friend Tatum. Your heart ached as you walked over. Next to them sat Randy and a few other guys from school. You sat in the chair away from them, sighing.

“Aye, look who’s here!” Stu yelled, holding out a hand to you. You laughed and high fived him. “What drinks do you have?” You asked, desperately needing to relax a little. He grinned, holding up his beer bottle.

“Beers in the fridge and Vodka on the dining room table. Pick your poison.” He winked.

You stood, walking to the table. You grabbed a red solo cup and one of the many bottles, pouring yourself a hefty shot and quickly sucking it down, cringing at the burn for a second. When you turned around, you saw Sydney walk in with a small smile, then following her, Dewey, and for some reason, Gale Weathers. Wonderful, a cop is here now.

You took a deep breath and walked back to the couch, sitting down with a sigh. You watched the movie they had on, Evil Dead you thought, and waited, occasionally talking with Stu or Randy about the film. The door opened again, you looked over and saw your beautiful Billy. You smiled at him, but didn’t get up, you didn’t want to be suspicious. Sydney met him on the stairs, and you watched as they had a conversation, then walked upstairs. Billy caught your glance as he walked, winking at you. You didn’t know what this meant, obviously he was walking towards a bedroom with his girlfriend, and now he seemed like he was mocking you for it.

Anger began to settle in your belly, hot and heavy. Stu stared at you before smiling, “You alright?” He asked, holding his beer out to you. “Here, you look like you need this more than me.”

Tatum looked at you, eyes focused with concern. Stu rubbed her shoulder and placed a kiss against the side of her face. “Why don’t you go grab more beers for the party?”

“What am I, the beer wench?” Tatum asked, shoving Stu away from her with a scoff.

Stu whined. “Baby I’m so comfy right now, plus I’m the host. Can't be disappearing in the middle of my own party, can I?” Stu kissed her jaw again, but made eye contact with you. “Why don’t you go with her?”

You tensed up for a second. A chance to get Tatum alone was exactly what Billy told you to wait for. “Yeah…okay.” You said softly, standing up to head to the garage with Tatum. She was ranting about something, talking about Stu. How he’d been distant lately, not paying as much attention when they talked. You guess you were doing the exact same thing, eyes glazed over and unfocused as you blindly followed her.

The knob to the garage door was cold and threatening as you slid the lock secretly, shutting it closed behind you. She continued speaking as she opened the fridge, but it was all a blur to you. You bent down and unsheathed your knife, staying in the blind spot of the fridge door, weapon raised and ready, adrenaline coursing through every vessel. The fridge door swung shut, and Tatum walked directly into your knife.

Her eyes bulged with fear as she dropped the beer, glass shattering and foam spraying at your feet. The handle was flush against her stomach, blood gushing out of the wound onto your hand, mixing with the alcohol on the floor. She sputtered blood, pale hands weakly gripping yours as she fell to her knees. The knife slipped from her gut with a squelch, and you stood there, shocked that you actually went through with it. Too shocked to move out of the way, blood soaking into the soles of your shoes, surely giving you away. Everyone would know it was you, no matter what Billy said.

“Oh my god! You killed her!”

Your blood went from electric and boiling to frozen in a split second. You whipped around, blood flying from your hands to see Stu standing there, a pained expression on his face. “My Tatum!” He cried, walking towards you, hands splayed out and pleading.

“Stu…I-I….” You stuttered. You wanted to tell him what happened. That his best friend was in on it, but you couldn’t get the words out of your stupid mouth. He was going to tell someone, get Dewey, and call more police. You were fucked.

You raised the knife and ran towards Stu, but with the height difference, he easily grabbed your wrist and twisted it sideways, disarming you and making your shoulder ache. His face switched in an instant, going from sad and crying to a sly smirk. “You’re fast. I shoulda known that a little lady like you would be nimble.” He winked, hand still squeezing your bloody one.

You’d never been more scared and confused. He was involved? Or he was just also sick in the head, separate from Billy. Either way, you were scared. He snickered, letting go of you, and you grabbed your wrist quickly to soothe its angry red skin. “I don’t understand.” You said quietly.

“Billy told me everything. He told me when he was going to kill you. And then when he pussied out because you sucked his dick. And then, when you agreed to kill Tatum.” He narrated, walking slowly around the garage and counting the events of the last few weeks on his fingertips. Him and Billy were in this together, and they’d dragged you in with them.

Walking towards the garage door, he opened a small chest caked in dust to grab out that familiar mask that you’d learned very, very well. “This is an extra. Billy had me get you one.” He said, holding the mask and cloak out towards you.

You grabbed it, relishing the way the smooth fabric felt against your hands. Stu rummaged through that same chest, unearthing an identical getup.

“Get dressed. We have work to do.”

#slasher x reader #slashers #horror movies #horror fanfiction #slasher x y/n #ghostface #ghostface fanfiction #billy loomis #billy loomis x y/n #billy loomis x reader #stu macher #stu macher x reader

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shes2real · 1 month

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hi babes ୨୧

thank you so so much for the support! my requests are currently closed but if you’d like to be apart of my tag list please interact below! ☁️🌷

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mrsaltieri-real · 10 months

Note

Love your Tumblr!

Could you please post reader hooking up with Mickey during that sorority party?

Thank you x

A Distraction (Mickey Altieri X Fem!AFAB!Reader)

The story of the first time you and Mickey Altieri hooked up, leading you to becoming friends with benefits.

Hi thank you so much!

I’m assuming you mean the sorority party from The Sound Room.

This is my first time writing smut so I’m really sorry if this is shit! I tried my best <3

Warning/s: language, smutty smut smut, p in v, clit play, degradation, orgasm denial, unprotected sex (use a condom), hair pulling, spanking, overstimulation, Mickey being a dick during sex but in a hot way, ect

18+ ONLY🔞

Read The Sound Room here

You sat on the couch, your fingers lightly tracing the ridges of the red solo cup in your hand as you listened to a drunken Randy babbling on about what movie to put into the VCR. The deja vu of the eerily similar conversation in Woodsbro a year ago made you feel a little uneasy and in all honesty, a bit sick. You sighed, taking a small sip of your drink, intending in that moment to get as drunk as possible.

Sidney and Randy were slowly moving on from what had happened last year. Sid was somewhat thriving, still a little on edge but happier which was largely due to her new boyfriend, Derek. He was sweet to her, no obvious homicidal tendencies and he made her happy which is all you could want for her after everything she went through with Billy Loomis.

Randy was doing even better. He went into college happier than anything that he was no longer a virgin thanks to you and the “favour” you’d given him the night before you’d left for Windsor. He loved college, his geekiness and love for films was a lot more tolerated and even admired here than it ever was in Woodsbro.

Then there was you. You didn’t know if you just weren’t as strong as them, but you were finding it a lot more difficult to move on. You felt homesick being so far from your family, but also felt physically sick at the idea of ever stepping foot in the town ever again.

Randy was still babbling on about what to watch when you decided you needed some air. You stood up, catching Sid’s eye as you walked toward the back door to find some place quiet. You felt her gentle hand touch your shoulder, making you jump a little as you turned to face her.

“Are you alright?“ she asked, her big brown eyes sympathetic. You felt pathetic whenever she asked this. You didn’t know why it was taking you so long to move on from Woodsbro. It had been Sidney that was by far the most impacted, so why were you acting like such a little fucking victim?

“Yeah,” you said as brightly as you could muster. “yeah, Sid I’m good. I’m just gonna get some air. The drinks are going straight to my head.” You forced a small laugh but it wasn’t exactly a lie. You were definitely already tipsy.

As soon as the cool night breeze hit you, you instantly felt better. You sucked in some air, relishing in the feeling of the cool summer air swirling down your throat and filling up your lungs and closed your eyes. It was quieter out here, almost everyone was inside enjoying the party. Almost.

“Oh, hey!”

Your eyes shot open and you jumped a little before your eyes focused on Mickey Altieri sat on one of the patio chairs by himself, his video camera clutched in his hand.

“Oh, hi Mickey.” You smiled a little, moving over to where he sat.

You knew Mickey, but not well. He was roommates with Sid’s boyfriend, in the same film class as Randy and shared a Statistics class with you so you were in the same circle of friends, but hardly ever really spoke to each other. But now, you found his presence oddly calming and felt yourself gravitating toward him to escape the hubbub of the loud sorority party.

“What’re you doin out here by yourself?” You asked, sitting down beside him but maintaining a safe distance. “Not your scene?”

“Oh, I love a party, but if I hear another sorority girl complain to me about how her boyfriend is ‘just the worst’ I’m gonna blow my fucking head off.”

A smile broke across your face and you let out a little laugh. Mickey grinned back at you, his face somewhat lighting up when he heard you laugh. “What about you?“ he asked, carefully placing his camera beside him on a cushion.

“Meh.” You sighed, leaning back against the soft material of the couch, taking another swig of your drink. It had started off as vodka cranberry but eventually had slowly just turned into vodka on every trip to the kitchen. You were a little drunk at this point, but still able to hold a conversation. “Last time I went to a party people died so I avoid going to them as much as possible.”

Mickey raised his eyebrows a little when he heard how blatantly you spoke about what had happened in California last year. Sidney hardly ever talked about it and if he was being honest, he avoided speaking to Randy about it as much as possible for obvious reasons. The kid thought of himself as a horror movie expert. The freaky film student asking him about a massacre with what was due in the coming months? Not the best idea.

“Ah.” He murmured, studying your face with his eyes before saying carefully, “you wanna talk about it?”

You glanced at Mickey and smiled a little. “Not that specifically. But everyone just seems to have moved on and I…”

“Find it harder?” Mickey finished.

“Mm.” You hummed. “Guess I’m not as strong as Sid and Randy.”

“Nah I don’t believe that.” Mickey announced, taking a sip of his own drink. “I think you probably haven’t had as many distractions as they have.”

“Distractions?” You repeated, eyeing him a little.

“Yeah. Sidney’s got Derek and I’m sure he keeps her very distracted,” Mickey’s tone was painfully suggestive and it made another smile break across your face. “…and Randy’s got his little films to keep him company. What have you got?”

You thought about that for a second. What HAD you got? It was then you realized Mickey was right. You didn’t really have anything to take your mind off of it, so every moment was just whirling through your head all day and all night. Maybe that’s exactly what you needed. A distraction.

You looked at Mickey again and this time really… saw him. His hair was a dark and little disheveled in a sexy kind of way, his brown eyes were deep and wild and looked like pools of honey framed by impossibly long and thick black lashes and as he smiled at you, his lightly flushed cheeks had small dimples set in them. He was tall, muscular and he clearly took care of himself and he smelled amazing. Like honeysuckle and fresh laundry.

In that moment, slightly tipsy and hating the feeling of loneliness and past trauma, you thought why the fuck not.

“Fuck!” You gasped a little as Mickey’s lips crashed against yours. It was messy, teeth clanking together and tongues swirling urgently but you didn’t care. This was exactly what you needed, a mindless carefree fuck in a sorority bathroom.

His large hands were rough as he palmed your breast through your thin dress as he kissed you, groaning a little when he felt your teeth lightly sink into his bottom lip and your hands tug his soft hair. His tongue tasted on alcohol and mint and it only added to how hot all of this was. You’d never randomly hooked up with anyone at a party and you couldn’t imagine anyone better to be doing it with.

You subconsciously patted yourself on the back for wearing a short summer dress to this party as you felt one of his hands move to circle your waist and the other slide between your legs.

“Jesus,” he whispered as he felt the damp patch staining your panties, “been a while, huh?”

You ignored him, too wrapped up in your own head as Mickey’s finger started gently circling your clothed clit and you let out a small whine, pushing yourself down on his hand. His eyes remained set on your face the whole time, your gorgeous expression only making him harder.

He didn’t waste any time removing your panties, rising back up to meet your lips again. You felt his fingers finally make direct contact with your throbbing clit and you gasped against his mouth as he applied the perfect pressure and started skillfully moving his fingers in small circles. You broke the kiss, head falling back against the door of the bathroom as your chest heaved. It clearly had been a while because you could feel the familiar build in your stomach start growing after only about a minute and a half as you moved your hips in sync with his hand when he suddenly pulled it away, making your eyes shoot open and send him a confused, slightly pissed off look.

“Why did you-“

“No. Don’t even think about cumming yet.” He said, his voice assertive and dripping with arousal. “Look at you..” his tone, despite himself was mocking. “I’ve hardly even touched you yet and you’re already about to cum on my fingers? So fucking needy.” He pulled back more, eyeing you up and down a little. “Take your fucking clothes o-“

Before he could even finish talking you were already sliding the straps of your dress down your shoulders and heard him let out a small groan as saw you weren’t wearing a bra. In any other situation, you’d feel uncomfortable with a guy you hardly knew looking at you the way Mickey was, but whether it was the alcohol, the stress or whatever else, you really didn’t give a shit.

“You going to keep staring or are you going to fuck me?” You asked him, trying to keep your voice light.

His eyes lifted to yours and he raised an eyebrow. “Don’t you want me to eat your pussy first?”

You blushed a little at how casually he said it before shaking your head and stepping forward, pulling him closer to you by the loops of his jeans, sliding your hands a little over his clothed bulge and beginning to unbuckle his belt. “You already felt how wet I am. I need to do this now.” You insisted, not bothering to disguise the desperation in your voice.

It turned Mickey on to see you so desperate for him. As soon as his belt was undone and his jeans and boxers off, your eyes flickered down to see his thick cock resting on his lower stomach and you felt your breath hitch a little. It was by far the prettiest cock you’d ever seen. You wanted to suck it, feel it throbbing in your warm mouth, but that could wait for another time. You needed to feel him fill you up more than you needed air to breathe.

“You gonna keep staring or are you gonna-“

You cut Mickey off from his teasing tone repeating what you’d said a couple of seconds ago with a kiss that made him stumble back a little, hands gripping your waist, his fingers digging into your soft skin so hard it was bound to leave bruises. You felt his hands move to your ass as he lifted you, guiding your legs around his waist. You could feel your pussy rubbing along his shaft as he did so, cussing as you let out a soft whimper as the heat of his throbbing cock rubbed against your clit.

“Hold on.” He mumbled, still gently rolling his hips to rub his tip against your engorged clit. “Condom?”

“N-no.” You voice faltered a little at the pressure of his gentle teasing strokes. “I’m on the pill.”

An angelic smile spread across his face at that news. “Good.” He wanted to feel you. All of you. Feel how wet you were for him, feel your juices on his cock.

It all went very quickly after that.

Holding you against the door, he pulled his hips back a little before arching them upwards, slowly filling you up and watching your face as he did so. You let out a low hiss at the satisfying stretch and your head fell back against the door behind you.

“Fuck.” He groaned, hands still gripping your ass as he pushed himself further into you, relishing in the feeling of your pussy squeezing his cock so tight it was almost painful as he did so. “I wasn’t expecting you to be this fucking tight.”

Not giving you much time to adjust, he started thrusting upward into your pussy, bending his head down to start skillfully swirling his tongue around your stiff nipples, nipping at them gently.

“Mickey- fuck-“ your hands gripped his toned biceps and he smirked a little with your nipple still gently clasped between his teeth before he moved away, adjusting your weight so you were fully pressed up against the door by his body and his hand was still gripping your ass as he pounded up into you. You clit was gently rubbing against the area of skin above his cock, the slight stubble pricking it in a way that was slowly driving you crazy.

He suddenly pulled you away from the door and you felt his cock leave you as he unclamped your legs from around his waist. You wanted to shout at him, grip your legs so tightly around him he couldn’t stop. The sudden emptiness didn’t last long as he moved you in front of the huge mirror above the low sink and bent you over the cold porcelain.

“What are you-“

“Wanna fuck you in front of the mirror so you can see how good you look when you take it.” Mickey was already lining himself up at your entrance and wasn’t so gentle about it this time. You felt one hand rest on your hip, the other pulling your head up by your hair so you were forced to look at yourself in the mirror as he suddenly slammed into you, making your body jolt and you let out a load, unfiltered moan as he did.

“Jesus you’re such a needy slut, aren’t you?” Mickey scoffed at you as you moaned and gasped at this brutal thrusts. “Knew you wanted this from the moment I met you.”

You could only respond in a broken whimper. You wanted to push back on his dick, make him go even deeper but your back was arched from the way he pulled your hair back and is strong hands were absolutely no match for you.

“Open your fucking eyes.”

You obeyed, looking into the mirror not at yourself, but at Mickey. Seeing him fucking into you like this made the entire current situation ten times better. His eyes were flickering on your face in the mirror to looking down at his dick sliding in and out of your pussy, hitting that most sensitive spot with every thrust, and the sounds you were making only prompted him to go even harder.

“Mickey I’m gonna-“

“No.” His voice was dominating and you automatically knew better not to argue with him about wanting to cum despite yourself. You were a writhing mess, pussy convulsing around his pulsing cock. You could feel the beads of sweat dripping from his face onto your lower back as he quickly stopped, the head of his cock only just inside of you. “I couldn’t give a shit. You’re not cumming until I tell you that you can.” You whined a little, fighting the urge again to push back onto him, needing to feel him fill you up again. “Tell me you understand.”

You managed a weak nod and let out a yelp when you felt the sting of his hand on your ass. “Use your words.”

“I- I understand, Mickey. Please just fuck me.” You begged. He loved nothing more than to see you so needy, begging for him to sink himself back into you.

You didn’t need to tell him twice.

He released your hair, his hand sliding down your back to grip your waist and he thrusted again, the movement causing you to let out an satisfied groan as your head fell forward. His foot nudged yours, making you spread your legs even wider for him and one of his hands moved around your body and toward your clit as he fucked you, just teasing it.

This development mixed in with him already slamming into your pussy and pressing against your g-spot made you make sounds Mickey hadn’t ever heard before. Everything was getting far too sensitive and your body began to convulse, you a writhing mess under his hands.

“Fuck Mickey please- please don’t stop!” You managed to choke out. He let out a panting laugh, rubbing your clit even faster.

“Think I’m going to? Fuck no. Want to feel that pretty pussy fucking milk me.” He grunted, his words only making you grow closer and closer to the ending you craved more than anything.

“Please let me, please let me.” You began chanting them three words like a prayer and you felt his thrusts begin to stutter a little. You felt tears from the overstimulation begin to form in your eyes as you were all but sobbing and begging him to let you cum.

“Okay, cum for me baby. Let me feel that pretty pussy flutter.” He panted.

The words were hardly out of his mouth before you felt the tight coil explode as you let out a series of broken moans, your legs shaking and your body writhing as you came. He finished not much longer after you did and you relished in the feeling of his seed spreading inside your walls.

Everything was very still for a moment. You were both breathing deeply as Mickey slowly pulled himself out of you and you winced a little.

“Shit, you okay?” He breathed as he helped you stand back upright and saw your tear stained face,his hands shaking a little.

“Y-yeah I’m fine.” You breathed, quickly wiping your face with the back of your quivering hand.

“Here..” he quickly grabbed some toilet paper from the holder and handed it to you, looking somewhat sheepish.

“Thank you.” You said, giving him a small smile. “So, we just did that, huh?”

Mickey’s face broke out into a oddly relieved smile. “Yeah we did. That was fucking great.”

He handed you your clothes and as the two of you got dressed, you thought to yourself how weird it was that you didn’t feel.. weird about this. It was by far the best you’d ever had, absolutely no one had ever come close to that before.

“You wanna go get a drink?” Mickey suddenly asked, breaking your train of thought. You smiled up at him and nodded eagerly.

“I think I need one. My throats fucking killing me.” You laughed as you both walked toward the bathroom door.

“Not surprised. You fucking moaning like you wanted the whole party to hear you.” He teased you, playfully nudging your shoulder.

“Screw you, Mickey.” You scoffed, giving him a half hearted shove back. You still felt a little weak and you groaned a little when you caught yourself in the mirror. “Oh, fuck. Look at my face.” You sighed, trying to remove the smudged lipstick and mascara with your fingers.

“What? I think you look hot.” Mickey shrugged, a smile still painted on his face.

“Yeah, of course you do. Perv.” You muttered. “Next time I’m not wearing makeup.”

“There’s going to be a next time?” Mickey asked, unable to stop the already smug smile on his face from growing bigger. “Made you feel that good, huh?”

You rolled your eyes at him, turning on the faucet to try and remove as much of the smudged makeup as possible.

“You’re a cocky prick, but yeah. I’d like a next time.”

#this is my first time #writing smut #please be kind #i don’t know if I like this #but whatever #scream #scream 2 #mickey altieri #mickey altieri x reader #mickey altieri x you #mickey altieri smut

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prescottsgirl · 8 months

Text

REAL SWEET, BUT I WISH YOU WERE SOBER

sidney prescott x fem!reader

summary: sidney gets drunk for the first time ever and the only person her friends know to call is you.

warnings: drunk sidney, vomiting (putting a warning before it for anyone who needs to skip over it)

note: for the sake of this fic, we’re pretending that nobody was getting murdered at stu’s party

It was nearly twelve at night when you got a call from Stu's house phone. At first, you didn't even want to answer. You knew he was probably calling you, drunk off his ass, just saying some stupid shit. But you also knew that his party was tonight and Sidney was there.

You decided not to go because you’d rather not spend your night around a bunch of other drunk teenagers. With an eye roll, you picked up the phone. You couldn't just ignore it. What if it was Sidney calling?

When you answered, an unexpected voice spoke through the phone. "Hey? Y/n?" You instantly recognize it as Randy. You could hear loud cheering, laughter, and chatter in the background, making it nearly impossible to hear his voice clearly.

"Randy? What's up?"

"You need to get here. Sidney's shit faced and won't get off the bathroom floor," he seemed panicky, but you think he was just worried that he would be left alone to deal with her.

"What?" You said, your voice loud enough to wake up your entire house. Sidney had never drank before, and she made it clear that she wasn't interested in it. She was too anxious, especially after her mother murder, she felt she needed to be completely aware and in control at all times. "Shit. Okay I'll be right there. Stay with her please?"

"Will do. Get here fast."

You wasted no time jumping in your car and driving down to Stu's house. You had no idea what to even expect when you got there. You were worried for your girlfriend, even though you knew she was safe with Randy right now.

As soon as you arrived, you pushed through all of the people flooding in and out of the house. You went straight towards the bathroom, ignoring all the greetings and cheers from your friends and classmates. Sidney was the only thing on your mind right now.

The door was wide open, and you saw Randy pacing back and forth while Sidney just sat on the floor with her head rested again the wall. Randy himself seemed a little tipsy, but not nearly as bad as Sidney.

"Thank god you're here," Randy said, exhaling a deep breath that he seemed to be holding in. He was quickly lured out of the room while you went over to Sidney, kneeling down to her level.

"Hey, Sidney, baby, it's me. Are you okay?" You put your hand on her cheek, feeling it be unusually hot and sticky. All she did to respond was let out a little groan and rolled her head over to face you. "I'm gonna take you home. Can you stand up for me?"

Slowly, she shook her head, her eyebrows furrowing as she squeezing her eyes shut. "m'head hurts," the brunette slurred under her breath, hoping it was loud enough for you to hear.

"I know, baby. I know. You had a little too much to drink. Just hold on to me and close your eyes, alright?" Without needing an answer, you wrapped your arms around her body and she clung around your neck. You helped pull her to her feet, pretty much doing all the work yourself.

She staggered out of the bathroom with you holding her upright, otherwise she would've fell flat on her face. "Can't leave. Party just started," Sidney said, trying to pull you towards the living where the party was most lively.

Her coordination wasn't too well and she almost walked into the wall but you redirected her back to the front door. "I think the party's over for you, my love. We have to get you in bed."

"M'fine," she tried to argue, but continued to let you lead her outside.

"You're drunk," you giggled at her but she seemed to be distracted by everyone outside with the red solo cups in their hands to continue on with the conversation.

Finally, you got her into the passenger seat of your car, helping her buckle when she reached her hands to the wrong side of the seat for it. As soon as you shut the door, her cheek met the cold window as she gave up trying to hold herself upright. Although she seemed worn out, her eyes still shimmered as if she were seeing the world for the first time ever.

"Hi," she says to you when you get into your car. Her head only slightly turns, and stays leaned against the window. Something about the way she says it and her dimples coming out as she smiles at you just makes your heart feel warm.

"Hi, pretty love."

At the term of endearment, her cheeks burn a deeper shade of red, as if you haven't call her it a million times before. She bites her lip as you start up the car, just wanting to get her home before she possibly gets sick or passes out.

"You think m'pretty?" She seems genuinely shocked by this.

"Of course. The prettiest girl in the world." You start driving back to Sidney's house, making sure to be extra careful so the police wouldn't have any reason to pull you over and see you girlfriend in that state. You know that your friends brother, Dewey, would somehow get you two out of trouble anyways.

"Really? I think you're the prettiest girl in the world too," she pauses for a moment, deep in thought before continuing, "I wish I could kiss you."

You chuckle at her because you can't deny how adorable she's being. She's typically never this talkative and upfront. Being drunk is definitely giving her a boost of confidence.

"You can kiss me, silly. Just not right now."

She nods her head but quickly learns that it doesn’t make her head feel too good. She squeezes her eyes shut and holds her forehead as if she has a brain freeze, but continues on talking like she doesn't even feel the throbbing. "That's right. 'Cause you're my girlfriend so I can kiss you whenever...wherever..."

You scoff at her, but it's only playfully. And then you look over at her while stopped at a red light and suggest that she should close her eyes so her head doesn't feel worse. She ignores it and just continues on rambling for the rest of the car ride about how much she loves you.

Luckily, her fathers not home. He's off on a work trip which makes this much easier than trying to somehow get Sidney through her bedroom window on the second floor. That certainly would've been a mess.

You're about to get out of the car but Sidney reaches for you - at least she tries to but just ends up missing. "Where ya goin'?"

"I'm gonna get you out of the car, darling. Okay? Just stay right there for me."

You walk around the car and open up her door, before you can even grab her, she already clings her arms around your neck herself. You pull her up out of the car and get you both inside her house, using the spare key that the Prescott's store under the welcome mat.

Getting Sidney up all the stairs wasn't an easy task, but she's luckily light and fairly cooperative so it doesn't take up too much time.

- vomit warning -

As soon as your on the upper level, Sidney hunches over with her hand on her mouth. Your quick to react and understand where this is going before she can even alert you. "Okay, alright, bathroom, bathroom, bathroom!" She quickly staggers toward the bathroom with you following right behind her, your hand on her back to keep her upright.

Her head makes it to the toilet just in time for her to empty out her already empty stomach. You pull back her hair and swiftly tie it into a ponytail with the elastic that's on your wrist.

She whines as she finishes up. You sit there, rubbing her back and whispering sweet things so she knows you're there for her. "You're okay, baby. I'm here. Right here with you."

- vomiting over -

When she's done, she lays back to where her body falls into your lap. As cute as she was being in the car, you can't help but feel bad for her now when you see the tear streaks on her face.

You wipe away the tears and lean down to kiss her freckled nose. All you can smell is all that alcohol radiating off of her as you get closer to her face. "You okay now?"

She weakly shrugs, her eyes halfway closed because the bathroom light is too bright for her right now. "Tired." You know she's completely checked out when she won't even speak in a full sentence to you anymore.

"My poor love, let's get your teeth brushed first." You carefully slide her off of your lap and let her rest against the wall, making sure she's comfortable and steady before you get up.

You add toothpaste to her toothbrush and kneel back down to her level. She let's you brush her teeth and she doesn't even care that she feels like a complete child right now because she doesn't even think she would be able to get her toothbrush in her mouth if she did it herself anyways.

When the task is completed, you get her up off the floor. At this point, you're pretty much carrying her back to her room. She collapses onto her bed as soon as you make it over there with her.

You grab her some pajamas, a plain coral t-shirt and a pair of short. When you go back over to her, she seems to be more awake than she was just moments ago. She smiles up at you like nothing wrong has happened.

"Hey, pretty. Can I get your pajamas on you. Is that alright?"

"Yeah," she says, happily suddenly, and bites down on her bottom lip. You help her out of her clothes and into her pajamas, making sure she's okay and comfortable the entire time.

When you're done, she gets under the covers and seems deeply upset when you don't immediately join her. "You're leaving me?" she asks, her voice so weak and tiny.

You quickly shake your head and get into bed with her. "Of course not. I'll be here all night with you, okay?" You couldn't imagine leaving her all alone in this big house while she was in this state.

She cuddles into you, rests her head on your chest, and you softly play with her hair in hopes it'll lull her to sleep like it typically does. "I feel all better now. Thank you."

You giggle at her and kiss her forehead. "I'm sure you do, baby. You're welcome. Now get some sleep, I love you."

"Mhm, love you too," she mumbles under her breath as sleep consumes her in the safety of your arms.

#sidney prescott #neve campbell #scream #wlw #lesbian #scream 1996 #scream 2 #scream 3 #scream 4 #scream 5 #sidney prescott x reader #neve campbell x reader #scream fanfic

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alphabetboyluvr · 10 months

Text

masterlist

all fics are posted to wattpad first (don't judge a girlie by her primary upload platform </3)

i write about the stars, boys who are carved like greek sculptures, and the inability to communicate in a healthy, functional manner. and i also like to write about bangtan sonyeondan in relation to all of those things.

WATTPAD // AO3 // KO-FI // CARRD

no translations | minors dni | don't be a dick x

JJK

SERIES

THROTTLE

pairing: boyracer!jk x fem reader - mutual disdain to lovers synopsis: in which jeon jungkook hates speed limits, the local government, and the way that min yoongi looks at you. current wc: 160,244 warnings: explicit language, drug usage, violence, dangerous driving, smut, and themes of an adult nature. not a mafia au, but teeters around the edges of it. organised crime and corruption are at the heart of the story. the characters have questionable morals and do dumb shit. be prepared to hate them as much as you love them. jungkook is a tittie luvr. no further questions.

BAD DECISIONS

pairing: bartender!jungkook x female reader | strangers-friends-lovers, fwb synopsis: it’s simple: write your deepest darkest fears on origami birds and string them up on jungkook’s ceiling. when they fall—which they inevitably will, thanks to his cheap daiso washi tape—you have to face the fear. set it free. the issue? you’ve a fear of intimacy. jungkook, a fear of rejection. and you’ve both got the capacity to make some incredibly bad decisions. current w/c: 450k notes: smut, fluff, a lil angst, bartender!jk, student!jk, strangers-to-friends-to-lovers (?), fwb, deal arrangement, undefined relationship (they’re just friends! just besties!!), miscommunication, idiots in love, emotional slow burn, bucket list (a.k.a. the birds

BAD DECISIONS SMUT INDEX

ONE SHOTS

extended - 5k words or more

ONCE THE THRILL EXPIRES

pairing: college!jungkook x female reader synopsis: your housemate-turned-fwb takes another girl home after a night out wordcount: 5.8K notes: angsty, smutty turmoil. it’s not that bad, but it definitely isn’t a happy lil number. fingering, oral sex (f receiving), rimming (f receiving), vaginal sex, doggy, protected (!!) sex, lil spanks, jaykay sorta makes out with her ear???, jaykay is a fawk boy who needs to learn self-control, oc is holding out for something that’ll never happen, multiple partners in one night (jk), jk calls the reader diz (dizzy)

LANDSLIDES

pairing: officeworker!jungkook x female reader (coworkers) synopsis: jungkook asks you to dog sit over chuseok. he doesn’t ask you to steal the empty spaces in his head, the dreams he’s yet to have, nor the idea of you always just being ‘you’ to him - and yet, like a thief in the night (with his own damn dog as your accomplice), you do. wordcount: 6.8K warnings: fluff more than angst, but it’s not clean cut - there’s also a touch of smut. office worker jk, fuck boy (but kind!) jk, mentions of his workplace escapades, oc is dating mingyu (yay), oc sorta fancies jk (boo), solo masturbation (m), vivid thoughts of shagging (jk is a perv! wow! unlike me to write him as randy bastard!), lots of facetime calls, oc and jk are fundamentally flawed as a pairing, genuine friendship, daddy kink? ig? but like kinda sweet?, jungkook has a complex brain house and you’ve been banished to his annexe!! he also has a thing for claw clipped hair lol

ONE SHOTS

short - under 5k words

something borrowed

- mafia au | forbidden love

dance with the devil

- royalty au | former lovers

KNJ

ONE SHOTS

short - under 5k words

back to you

- idol au | exes

KSJ

MYG

SERIES

HUSH

pairing: rockstar!yoongi x female reader | mutual disdain - lovers (but also strangers - lovers? kinda?) synopsis: in which you work for your brothers band by day and accidentally anonymously sext his bandmate on the regular by night! whoops ! current w/c: 17.5k notes: okay, where to start with this one lmao, sexting! and i mean… a lot of sexting (so much sexting oc will probably get early-onset arthritis in her thumbs), yoongi is a dick, he also hates nepotism, and in turn, you. oh yeah, you’re jin’s sister, you work with the band on tour. jin, yoongi, tae, jk and joon are in The Scouts aka the hottest band since sliced bread. jimin is their tour manager, hobi works up in the head office (he’s sleazy and i love him). slight love triangle, one-near-footjob (and counting!), eventual smut, a little angst, dating app that is exclusively for celebrities / people in the public eye, one incredibly inconvenient pairing, yoongi calls the oc clementine / clemmie and it’s cuter than it sounds, idk how else to explain this, mistaken identity i guess? although not really? look, just read it lol. smut warnings will be on chapters individually!!

PALLADIUM

pairing: dilf!yoongi x reader // friends to lovers, slowburn, eventual smut synopsis: min yoongi is urgent. in the way he bites his nails down to the bed, and the way his sore fingers type out desperate sentences just minutes before deadlines, he is urgent. how he prepares jaehyun’s day bag before grandma comes by, and how he double checks everything is packed, he is urgent. the requests for you to watch over jaehyun each and every deadline day are, always, predictably, urgent. but the way min yoongi falls in love with you is slow. gradual. tepid. until, like everything with min yoongi, it becomes urgent. wordcount: 3.2K notes: three part series, fluff, angst, eventual smut, yoongi is incredibly conflicted, the oc is just as dumbfounded by the way she feels, lots of feelings!!

JHS

PJM

KTH

ONE SHOTS

short - under 5k words

sundae (kinda love)

- childhood friends | angst

#bts fanfic #bts masterlist #byholly #jungkook fanfic #namjoon fanfic #jungkook fanfiction #jungkook angst #jungkook smut #jungkook ff #jk ff #jungkook masterlist #jungkook x reader

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scarisd3ad · 6 months

Text

Promptober day 31 - Halloween party

Pairing - Stu macher x reader

Warnings - none

Promptober ‘23 masterlist

Main masterlist

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I'm standing in Stu's bedroom as I zip up my skirt. I look at myself in the full-length mirror in the corner of his room. I let out a sigh as I adjusted the skirt a bit. It's Halloween, and Stu was throwing a Halloween party as usual. Stu and I were wearing matching costumes (him being dressed up as a devil and me being an angel.) "wow," I turned on my heels to see Stu standing at the doorway, with his body leaning against it. He's dressed in a red button-up that's unbuttoned to show off his upper body, a pair of black slacks, and a pair of devil horns placed on his head. He looked hot. "You think?" I ask, brows furrowing together as I turn back towards the mirror. I look myself up and down as Stu comes walking up behind me. I had a tiny white skirt under fishnets, a white tank top with white heels, angel wings, and a halo. It felt a little scandalous, especially for only being 17.

"You looked hot as hell," he whispers as he wraps his arms around my waist and dips his head down so his lips are pressed against my neck. "Hot as fuck," he mutters as he begins to suck a hickey into the delicate skin of my neck. I let out a soft moan before pushing his head away from my neck. He chuckles as I turn, so I'm facing him. His arms are still wrapped around my waist as I place my hands against his bare chest. "I think you look hot," I whisper as I lean in, peppering kissing across his neck and chest. His hands wander up and down my body. "fuck, you think so?" he asks. As I pull away, I giggle at the sight of red lipstick marks covering his chest and neck.

"yeah," I smirk up at him before pressing my lips to his lips.

Ding, dong.

"let's get this party started," he mutters before letting go of me and walking out of the room. A few seconds after he leaves the room, I walk out as well and walk down to the living room. I sit on the couch and grab the remote. A group of kids file into the house, and some of them end up in the kitchen, already grabbing up and pouring cups of alcohol. Stu hops over the back of the couch and settles into the seat beside me as both Sid and Billy sit down in the recliner.

Stu's arms wrap around my waist before he pulls me onto his lap. I yelp as he's lips press against my neck, and he begins to suck. "God, you two are always on top of each other," Randy groans as he takes a seat next to us. "you're just jealous," Stu says, pulling away with a shit-eating grin. Stu returns his lips to my skin in a hurry as one hand reaches around to squeeze the soft flesh of my thigh. "at least get a room if you're gonna do that," Randy groans as he pushes himself against the arm of the sofa. "You don't want us to do that," I whisper. Stu was a typical teenage boy. He was horny 24/7. When I say all the time, I mean all the time, even at school.

"Alright, Stu, give it a break. I don't want my entire neck to be one big hickey," I mutter as I push his face away. He lets out a tiny sigh but does end up stopping, thankfully. Tatum comes and takes a seat on the other side of us. "Holy shit, you look hot," she says as she takes a sip from the red solo cup in her hand. I giggle shyly as I reply, "Thanks, Tate, so do you." She's dressed in the tiniest red mini skirt I've ever seen and a black top, with a brief line of blood drawn onto her face to look like it had seeped out of her mouth. She also had a pair of vampire teeth, but she kept spitting them out because she couldn't talk with them.

"Cool party, dude," a brunette boy a year younger than us says as he slaps his hand against Stu's back. "you guys want beers? gonna go get one?" Billy asks as Sid slips off of his lap as he stood up. "Yeah, man," Stu replies as Tate and Randy shake their heads. "No, but can you get me some water, Billy?" I ask, raising my brows. "Yup, got it," Billy says before walking away. "you're such a prude, y/n," Tate says, which makes me roll my eyes. I knew I needed to take care of Stu or, even worse, both Billy and Stu because those two were going to get shitfaced by the end of the night, and my mom disapproved of me drinking. "I am not. I need to be sober because I know this one is going to be shitfaced. One of us needs to be responsible."

"I am not! I'm super responsible even when drunk."

Stu wanders aimlessly through his now vacant yet filthy home. He's completely wasted. I yelled, "Oh my god, Stu, stop!" as I ran towards my intoxicated boyfriend, attempting to drink from the fish tank. With a foolish grin, he declares, "I'm thirsty." "Alright, alright, let's get a drink then," I whisper, my voice soft, which I'd typically use when talking to a child. I take his arm and begin escorting him to the kitchen. I take one of the left-over solo cups and fill it with water before handing it to him. He stares down at the cup in his hand, his brows furrowing together before he looks up at me. "is this vodka?" he slurs. "No baby, it's water drink so that we can go to bed."

"I don't want to sleep."

"I don't care. We're sleeping, whether you like it or not."

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wrestlersownmyheart · 7 months

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Hi. I love your stories. I have an idea for a ficlet. I would love one where Randy Orton and the reader go to a haunted house and he protects the reader from all the Scary things

Aww thank you so much sis! Hope you enjoy what I did! 🙂

Title: Haunted House Pairing: Randy Orton X Reader Summary: You and Randy decide to visit a Haunted House on Halloween night and you get so spooked he has to protect you. Disclaimers: I own nothing or anyone associated or affiliated with WWE. I own only the original characters. This is just a fictional story that came from my imagination. Content/Trigger Warnings: None. Just fluff and an attempt at comedy.

NOTE: I have never done a Haunted House before, so bear with me. I hope I did this correctly.

Haunted House

“I don’t know about this,” you said, taking Randy Orton’s large hand. “I’ve never been in a haunted house before, Randy.”

“Oh, come on, Y/N,” Randy coaxed, his bright blue eyes flashing. “It’ll be fun. Besides, you can’t go to a Halloween carnival without visiting the haunted house.”

You were both dressed up for Halloween as Han Solo and Princess Leia from the Return of the Jedi. Your costume was complete with the golden bikini and a super long clip in braid.

“Yeah but they say this house is actually haunted,” you argued. “Like, for real. That’s like deciding to pay the Amityville house a visit! Are you crazy??”

Randy chuckled, and brought your hand to his mouth, kissing it softly. “Why so scared? I’ll protect you.”

“I don’t doubt you’d try,” you replied, “But how are you going to protect me from a ghost, or worse, a poltergeist?”

He chuckled again and led you up the walkway toward the house. “It’ll be fine. If it gets too bad, we’ll find the nearest emergency exit and leave. Deal?”

You nodded reluctantly, “O-okay.”

You went through the, what used to be, white gate of the picket fence which framed the large yard and walked toward the front door. A small group of teenage girls were behind you, already giggling hysterically.

“Somehow, I think if we’re stuck in front of them the whole time, I’m gonna be ready to climb the walls before this is over,” you remarked, with a roll of your eyes.

“Don’t worry, they’ll be more quiet when they get scared,” Randy chuckled deviously. “And I can always scare them worse than this house would.”

You nodded your agreement with a soft hum of approval.

He was telling the truth. Randy was an insanely attractive man, but he could definitely turn into a scary lunatic when he wanted to–usually when he was wrestling or filming a segment for the WWE.

You stepped up to the first step of the porch, and–

“ROAAAR!!” A Freddy Krueger leapt out from behind the open front door.

At the same time, you jumped out of your skin and your hand shot to your chest as the teenagers squealed, and Randy laughed aloud.

“This is gonna be fun,” he exclaimed.

“If you say so,” you said under your breath.

You both stepped into the house, followed by the annoying teenage girls, and you were already cringing when a goblin flew by your face, shrieking in laughter, it’s ragged clothing brushing across your cheek.

“It’s just a bunch of jump-scares,” you griped to Randy. “Can’t we just forget about this?”

“Once you enter, you don’t exit,” came the killer’s voice from the Scream films. Right behind you. You turned and immediately screamed at seeing Ghostface run at you.

“How the heck did he hear me,” you demanded. “I wasn’t talking that loud. Randy, this is freaky.”

“Relax, babe, it’s just part of the show,” Randy said, leading you forward. “I won’t let anything touch you.”

“Okay,” you agreed reluctantly, letting him take your hand and lead you further into the house.

You both turned down a hallway and immediately heard a door slam in the near distance followed by a woman’s scream. You couldn’t decide if it was sound effects or if the “for real” haunted house was beginning to show its true colors.

That thought nearly sent you into a panic. “Randy, I really want out of here. Please.”

“Okay, baby, we can leave,” Randy said, turning you toward the way you’d just come. He affectionately squeezed your shoulders. “We’ll go back out the front door since we already know what is lurking there.”

You nodded as he led you, and you immediately felt bad. “I’m sorry. I know you wanted to do this.”

“No worries, babe. It’s not a big deal. I just thought since you’d never been to one that it’d be fun for you. If it’s scaring you that bad I don’t want you to do it either.”

“Sir,” an authoritative voice said from behind the two of you. You turned and saw that “Freddy Krueger” was acting as hall monitor, so to speak. “Sir, you’re not allowed to leave back through the front door. I’m afraid you have to go through the remaining haunted house to get to the actual exit.

“Please,” you started. “I’m freaked out and I just want out of here.”

“There’s only a couple of hallways to get through ma`am.”

It was surreal for Freddy Krueger to be speaking so politely to you. But polite or not you wanted out of this house and you wanted out now.

“I don’t care. I’m not going and you can’t make me,” you said feeling childish, but nonetheless justified.

“Ma`am…”

“Look, Freddy,” Randy started sarcastically, popping his knuckles and clearly losing his patience. “We’re going out the front door. If you don’t like that, I don’t think there’s a lot you can do about it.”

“I can stop you from going through the door.”

Freddy was getting pretty snarky.

“And I can slap the taste out of your pizza-faced mouth,” you said in retaliation.

“Now listen,” Freddy started, pointing his finger blade at you. “I-”

“Don’t you dare point that blade at me,” you cried indignantly. You let loose and slapped him across the face.

“HEY!” Freddy was suddenly angry and latched onto your arm with his gloved hand.

“OW,” You cried, as the metal of the glove dug into your skin. The blades were thankfully dulled down to where it didn’t actually cut you, but it still hurt.

“Okay, that’s it,” Randy said a second before driving his fist into Freddy’s face.

Freddy was down for the count.

“Come on, let’s get out of here,” Randy said, taking your hand and heading for the front door.

You both hurried through the door and were instantly out in the cool night air.

“Thank you, baby,” you said softly as you walked away from the house and headed out of the carnival toward Randy’s car.

“No one's gonna put their hands on you on my watch,” he said, as he walked you to the passenger’s side of the large SUV. “No one.”

He opened the door for you and helped you into the seat, before gently closing the door again. Then he was jogging around to the driver’s side and getting in himself.

“I love you, Randy.”

He looked over at you and smiled. “I love you too.” His dimples appeared then. “In fact I was going to do this after the haunted house, but Freddy screwed it up,” he chuckled, pulling a velvet box out of his costume’s pocket. He opened the box to reveal a diamond ring. “Y/N… Would you marry me?”

“Oh my God, Randy! Yes!” You squealed the words and latched onto him kissing him passionately. “Yes,” you said again, as he placed the ring on your finger.

“I’m glad.” He said, reaching over and kissing you softly. “You’ve just made me the happiest man on earth.” He started the car as you admired your ring.

“And you’ve made me the happiest woman on earth,” you replied, gazing at him. “Let’s go home and celebrate,” he said with a wink.

THE END

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