Scooby Doo Porn Story: A Surprise Visist – Chapter 1

Well, I basically discarded all my knowledge of Scooby-doo (a very
hard thing for me to do) in order to write a less cartoon-ish feel to
the characters of this fanfic. I hope that there may be some
who enjoy it as much as they have my others. I’m thinking of
having this as a oneshot; yet if the reviews are good enough, or
perhaps it is requested I’ll continue this. Anyhow, here’s my
first one-shot story. Hope you enjoy it!

After not much deliberation, he moved
from the location of the living room to the fully furnished bedroom.
He had only purchased the house a month before this very date and
wished that it would soon become a home, instead of a mere house.
As he passed down the hall he noted the nearly empty room. A
small bed, the one which his father had custom built for his son’s
birth laid within it. He could only dream of ever having a son
of his own, or even a daughter. A child, from the most
beautiful woman he had ever known was only but a mere dream.
Though he knew he did not merely like her as he once had, he found
himself in love with her, yet so much so, that he feared her
reaction.

As he came within the confines of his own
room, he looked about and then to the desk near the far left corner.
As he reached it, he pulled out a pen from the side drawer and took
up a medium sized notebook of green binding. Opening it, he
read an inscription, written in nothing less but purple ink and
cursive writing:

“To the best friend a girl could
ever have… You are my supporter in times of angst and comforter in
times of tears. Throughout all the years of our friendship,
you’ve been my rescuer. Thanks for all the times we’ve had.
I’ll miss you, but I know that we’ll never loose touch. Love always,
Daphne. P.S. I know that you love to write, and I hope that
this book has more than enough pages to write about your thoughts,
dreams, and whatever else you may think up.”

At that very moment the man’s voice came
out, though only in a half tone for he did not mean to say his
thoughts aloud. “Why did you have to go off to college in
another state?”

He sat there, twiddling the pen within
his hands until he was unable to suppress his feelings any longer.
Noting the blank pages that filled the book, he placed the point of
his pen upon the blank sheet and his hand seemed to flow gracefully
across it without his realization of the words being shown before
him. Soon enough he was interrupted by a knock upon the door
and he set the book down, not bothering to place it back away.
Coming out of the room and making his way through the hall again he
heard the knocking growing steadily louder.

“Shagg, is that you?” he asked
right before his hand touched the door knob, not used to any
visitor’s other than his long-time friend and school alumni, Norville
“Shaggy” Rogers.

“Oh, that hurts, Mr. Jones,”
mockingly pouted a young woman, twenty-one years old, who stood in
his doorway as he opened the door.

“Daphne?” he stated in shock as
he started, partially in awe, at the gorgeous strawberry blonde who
stood before him.

“Hey Freddie,” she stated.

For a moment, it was obvious, she was
timid, unaware of how he would react but the next moment took all her
fears away. With one quick swoop he placed his arms under her
own and gave her a strong hug, picking her off the ground as he did
so, twirling her a bit, as well. That moment also reminded the
two of their height difference, though it was not nearly what it once
was. She giggled, slightly as she placed her chin upon the
broad shoulder he gave off. She missed him, more than she had
ever admitted to her best ‘gal-pal’, Velma Dinkley.

As he set her down their positions had
changed and the young woman was now inside the house. She
sighed, softly, not wishing that the release would come as soon as it
had. Though she did realize something that seemed to happen
many times when they were younger; his hand had taken a gentle hold
of her own. He stepped into the household, turning about to
shut the door, yet continuing to keep her hand in a gently grasp.

“Y-you look amazing!” Fred
stated, spinning the young woman about in a dance-like move.

She laughed and playfully hit him, “Not
to bad yourself, stranger.”

“No, really. You look so
different from when you left; you’re gorgeous!” Receiving
a playful glare he rolled his eyes and stated, “You know what I
mean, Daphne.” Then, after a moment of consideration, he
cocked his head to the side and looked to her dark aqua-colored eyes.
“Wait a second, I haven’t sent you my new address, how did you
find me?”

“That’s right, you didn’t.”
Her tongue stuck out in a childish manner at him as she then took it
back and continued, “First I went to your parents house, and
after a little talk with them they told me to come here. So,
can I see the place?” She questioned, already able to tell
that this was no one-room flat, but in fact a rather decent sized,
almost picturesque, house.

“Yeah, I meant to, but you never
know if someone’s scanning the calls or something. Anyhow, come
on, it’s not much, but, maybe you’ll like it.” Was his response.

Keeping his hand wrapped around her own,
he made their way into the kitchen, complete with a nook. Next
they walked into the hallway, which was not quite large yet by no
means small. A bathroom was passed, an office was seen, and a
game room holding a pool table was also looked into. With only
two rooms at the end of the corridor, Daphne’s head peeked into the
room with Fred’s first bed.

“Oh, Freddie, it’s so cute.”
Daphne commented as she walked over, her spare hand caressing the
oak-wood crib. “Wait a minute,” she twirled almost
instantly upon her feet, a mixture of emotions catching her, which
she attempted to downplay as she stated her next words. “Is
this for? I mean, you don’t have a? Is there a certain
someone you haven’t told me about during these past three years?”

Those few seconds and fleeting words from
her mouth almost knocked the wind of him. Why she would ever
think that he would not tell her about someone so important in his
life was absurd to him. Yet, so was the fact that she could
ever think that the one person he would ever dream about having a
child with would be anyone but her. He let out a laugh,
containing both nervousness and obvious givings that her thoughts
were wrong, to which she blushed.

“No, nothing like that!” His
free hand, raising in a motion as if to declare this fact
prominently.

“Well I would hope not,” Daphne
stated whishing that she had not.

True enough, as much as both members
enjoyed each others company, growing to love the other, both were
terribly frightened of what might happen if they confessed.
Even still, while in Jr. High their next-to-best-friends, Shaggy and
Velma, were well aware of this and were constantly teasing the others
in front of the group. Due to this fact there was many a time
when Fred would jokingly flirt with Daphne and she, play along or the
other state a not-so-joking-joke as Fred did so next.

“I always knew you loved me, Daph.
Admit it, no one can resist this,” he stated with a brightened
smile and cocky flair.

Glad that she did not have to go through
the embarrassment of her thoughts slipping to her tongue, she merely
looked at him with an ‘as if’ facial expression.

“Oh trust me, Freddie, I know plenty
who could,” she added with a flirtatious gleam in her eye.

For the first time since she had arrived
she slipped her hand out of his own and made her own way into the
final room, Fred’s. He remained within the room where he wished
a child of his own to sleep in one day, slightly shocked at how much
appearances may change (definitely for the better) yet personalities
do not have to as well. Back in his own room, Daphne slid upon
the bed, her apparel of a purple sweater, for the time being autumn,
and blue jeans making it quite easy to climb upon the high
positioned, King-sized, bed. She had noted the book she had
given him and taken it into her own hands, believing that Fred would
not mind, for as well as she knew, he spoke every word of his
thoughts to her.

“Today I walked into the
supermarket, the Christmas lights and other decorations are already
being sold. It reminded me that I can’t always explain what I
feel. Though I haven’t seen her, in what feels like a
life-time, her face remains forever ingrained in my mind. When
I hear the ways of her voice, matured and beautiful no doubt, yet
playful nonetheless, I recall the memories of our childhood games.
I envision her face, aqua marine eyes, seeming to search my soul as
if she knows the very secret I have always hidden from her. The
stands of strawberry blonde hair, holding its name-sake’s scent.
Her porcelain skin, which no angel can compete with, reminds myself
of the touch we shared.

The touch at one Christmas-time evening I
will never forget. Her, naturally rose colored, lips were
purple from the cold; her body stood net to my own, shivering as we
sang carol’s in the snow. I took of my coat and placed it upon
her shoulders, her arms eventually sliding in; it was far too big for
her, yet she looked as beautiful as ever. At that moment her
eyes reached my own, sparkling as they always seemed to, even when
she’s crying. I could not help but smile while gazing into
them. Making our way back to my parent’s house we found the
dark night sky to show off the crystal-like clusters of stars, not
nearly as beautiful as the one’s within her eyes.

Reaching the house, the warmth of the
fire was both romantic and relaxing as it helped defrost us from the
evenings events. She was insistent upon baking cookies, an
excellent cook she had always been, so none protested. As I
walked into the kitchen after turning on the movie I was met with a
gentle handful of flour. Her glorious laughter filled my ears
as I wiped it from my face; it had left almost as abruptly as it
came. Soon from the kitchen playful screams were heard as I
picked her off the ground, taking a handful of flour in my own and
rubbing it onto her face.

I knew Shaggy and Velma would soon be
coming in to see when we would be ready to watch “It’s a
Wonderful Life” along with them, but I didn’t care. My
hand had already reached the softness of her face, and once I was
done with the flour I felt my thumb subconsciously caress her cheek.
The Christmas lights, full of color and sparkle adorned the windows,
within the sight of my peripheral vision as I looked down at her.
She smiled, gently, knowing as well as I did what was to come next.
My head leaned down, tilted a little more than it had been before,
she was laying as perfect as angel as she ever had been within my
arms, and we kissed. Innocent as it was, there has never been
such a feeling in all my life.

As we parted she smiled, giggling as she
so often did, though most likely at the fact of my reddened cheeks.
I set her back down and she carried the cookies upon a tray out to
the living room and I took the glasses of milk along with a bottle of
sparkling cider and champagne glasses out upon another platter.
We didn’t speak to one another of the actions, yet as I took a seat
next to the fire-place she took her own next to myself, her petite
figure against my chest. She took my hands in her own and
wrapped my arms around her as she gazed at the television screen and
I, at her.

That night she had fallen asleep, both
she and Velma if I am to remember correctly, and I had the task of
waking an angel from slumber. “Daph,” I whispered,
not wanting to wake someone so peaceful. She stirred
slightly in my arms and as her eyes fluttered open, she seemed to
realize why I had woken her. Soon enough she was standing and
the four of us stated our goodbye’s to one another. As she
stood at my doorstep, her butler with an awaiting limo in the
drive-way, I held her hands in my own. “Goodnight,
Freddie. Merry Christmas.” And with that she gave me an
utterly innocent kiss on the cheek; before I could respond I realized
that the limo was pulling away from the drive way, she inside of it.
“Goodnight, Daphne. Merry Christmas to you too…I love
you,” I whispered underneath my breath as I watched the limo
till it rounded the corner.

Shaggy stood behind me as I did so, “You
have to tell her one day, Fred,” he partially scolded for not
having done so that night. “I will Shaggy, one day, maybe
I’ll get the courage to,” was my only response. As he and
fellow companion, Scooby-Doo, soon left I retraced my steps back into
the house, turning of the television and cleaning up the cups and
empty cider glasses. I shut off the lights, and swore to
myself, that day I would never forget.

Perhaps Shaggy was right, I should have
told her of my feelings; but now maybe it’s too late. She’s
been gone for so long, and I’ve never told her upon our phone calls,
for it would be too impersonal. My heart breaks every time she
states she has to get off of the phone, yet it becomes more full as I
know she has crawled into bed and soon after I do not receive a
response, yet the soft sound of her breathing, having fallen asleep
to me speaking with her. It may be that I’m recalling the days
of a sixteen-year-old boy, his first true kiss, and the
girl-next-door he had developed a crush on and it’s nothing more than
a silly memory and to be kept in a vault with all the others.
Yet, I cannot help but think, if it is only a sixteen-year-old crush
than why do I still feel as if my breath is taken away from me as I
speak with her, or I will second glance in a given direction for
believing I see her on the street, in the mall, or even when at work.

I suppose it is because I know it’s
something more, more than I’d ever admit to any other than her…yet
I can not even do that. I am in love with a woman who is more
worthy of all the riches in the world, and I could give her nothing
that she does not own other than my love. She would only laugh
to read this, I might think, yet hope remains within me that I might
be able to make myself something. Someone that can be her
everything and give her whatever she desires, yet until then I remain
silently in love with Daphne Blake.”

Daphne’s eyes had already formed slight
tears long ago as she too recalled the Christmas night while reading
his own thoughts of it. She looked up, quite aware that he had
been watching her yet focusing upon the book nonetheless. He
was leaning against the doorpost, eyes and face showing the
expression of a toddler who has just been caught snatching a cookie
from the jar.

“Why didn’t you ever tell me?”
Her voice came out different than she had meant, instead of
soothingly sweet, a tremble appeared and a voice barely louder than a
mouse.

Fred rushed to her side, upset that the
facts she had been reading would make her so upset. He knew
that there was no hope for him to ever earn her love in return for
merely his own, and now found himself a fool to have even written
such dreams. His hand came upon her cheek, his thumb brushing
away the wet, almost crystal-like, droplets that came from her eyes.

“I’m sorry, Daphne. I…I knew
I never should have thought of you like this, you’ll probably want to
leave, and I understand if you don’t want me to call every week.
I just want you to know that I’ve never been more sorry my enti-“

His words no longer were needed and
though hers were not as well, she pulled from his lips, giggling
softly as she had some six years ago, partially due to the shocked
look upon his face and reddened cheeks.

“I love you too, Freddie.”