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polyghostfacehours · 10 months

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"A Lack Of Climax In Act Three." Reverse! Poly! Ghostface X FEM! AFAB! Reader.

Hello, hello, hello! So at long last, the very much awaited follow up and part two to Lessons In Faking It Redux for Multi-May! I thought hard about this, I hope this is worth the wait and you all love it. I put a fuck ton of effort into this one and honestly it hurt to write! I am so mean to Billy and Stu in this but I don’t mean it, I love em still, I promise! But for now, let’s put that love aside and lose ourselves in this fun AU idea.

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Rating. Explicit. Length. 3k. Reverse! Poly! Ghostface X FEM! AFAB! Reader. Warnings: Cheating. Lying. Fake Dating. Faking It In General. Cunnilingus. Fingering. “Loss Of Virginity”. Vaginal Sex. Nipple Play. Reader Is A Manipulative Asshole. Really Mean Shit, Hurt. Angst. Blood. Gore. Murder.

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The big night was finally here.

To say that this was highly anticipated was an understatement. The culmination of over a year of work for your girlfriends and months of your own effort leading up to tonight. Sidney and Tatum were such good actors throughout this process, it was inspiring. The pair of them had killed a few more people by this point and had been playing up the scared and concerned act amazingly well, doing all they could to keep suspicion off of them. It made you all the more smitten with them. The duality and depth, the complexity they have inside of them, makes you wish you were sandwiched between the pair of them as opposed to Billy and Stu like you currently were.

Sidney and Tatum had this grand finale planned for a long time, a party at Sidney’s house, currently in full swing, was going to be the setting and so far everything was going off without a hitch. You were doing your best to keep your eyes on them while staying close to Billy and Stu, still playing the part of loving and caring girlfriend who was obscenely into them both. Billy was being extra clingy tonight, understandably the murders kicking up around town has him feeling stressed, you were excited that after tonight you would never have to deal with him again. After tonight you wouldn’t have to feel his arms around your waist while sitting in his lap, wouldn’t have to pretend you weren’t cringing inside when Stu would kiss you, the list drags on and on but there is no time to linger on that.

You notice the signal you had worked out with Tatum earlier, now for the next phase and you had to initiate it, time to put all that “practice” to good use. Everything before this was the rehearsal but this was like opening night on Broadway, you had to impress and dazzle and make them truly believe your act; and this was arguably much more challenging than any of the “read throughs” that occurred in your girlfriend’s bedrooms, you hope all the work pays off.

You’d been planning this yourself for a long time but unlike Sidney and Tatum’s openness, you hid exactly what you had in mind, for fun. Sure the two gave lots of direction but ultimately the final cut was left to your discretion, a show of trust from them that you appreciated. You can feel their eyes on you, looking at you from across the room, over the throng of the other inebriated party goers. You finish the rest of your own drink, which was free of any alcohol but the boys didn’t know that, before placing the red solo cup off to the side. Next you were turning in Billy’s lap, straddling him so you were now face to face, your arms hanging loosely around his neck as you looked down at him. “How you holding up, tiger?”

“You know how he is, head wayyy too full, way too stressed and worried-” Stu teased, he reached forward over your shoulder, an attempt was made to ruffle his hair but Billy yanked his head back, dodging out of the way with a sigh, “Can you blame me?”

“No, of course not. But Stu is right, look at all the people here, you are totally safe.” You reassured and he nodded but still seemed unconvinced as he said, “I know that but-”

“But nothing, listen to us man.” Stu cut in and you say, “Yeah. You want us to help distract you? Keep your mind on other things?”

“What did you have in mind?” He asked and you leaned in closer, “C’mon, I can’t show you here, we need to go upstairs for what I’m thinking of.”

You knew that it wouldn’t take much to convince either of them, but one well placed sentence and they were practically dragging you off to go upstairs with them, you have to hold your laugh in at how easy they were. To be fair this wasn’t the hard part, convincing them you were not only into the sex but getting off on it would be the real test. You meet Sidney and Tatum’s gaze as you walk past, Stu leading you with Billy right behind. You fight back your smirk, Sidney hides her own behind her sleeve, a subtle wave, a single that when matched with her eyes said, “Try to have fun.” Tatum hides her laugh behind the rim of her own cup.

It all feels different. Not just from what you did with your girlfriends, that was a give in, but the physical affection you had shared with Billy and Stu thus far to keep up your charade felt less seriously than it did tonight. You wonder if it is because you know this will be the last time or if because this time it is actually going somewhere, it isn’t just kissing with forced enthusiasm and some awkward feeling up, well it was at this moment, but the point is, it wasn’t going to stay just this.

It progresses quickly but that is fine, it sells it as rushed, passionate, all full of need, they certainly seem swept up in it. Your arms wrap around Billy’s neck as your tongue enters his mouth, you are very in your head, trying to make every single movement and sound read as effortless and natural when in reality it was a calculated dance that neither Billy nor Stu knew they were a part of. You really should be praised for this, the soft moan you let out was thoroughly convincing, even though his tongue was unpleasantly rough and he tasted of cheap beer that threatened to turn your stomach. The make out continues as Stu feels you up, rolling your nipples between his fingers in a way that harkens back to trying to tune an old radio. It makes you want to roll your eyes from how boring and not to your taste it was, you think that you could school that into a display of pleasure rather than annoyance, but you could save that for later.

You did feel some minor nerves but when you actually had more of their clothing off, touching them, it put you much more at ease. They are so responsive, alive, much more so than a regular silicone dildo locked into a strap-on harness, even a loose grip and an easy pace of your hand has either one of them bucking their hips with a groan. You don’t know why you were so worried, this will probably be easier than you thought.

Sidney tastes much better than Billy does, she has this almost sweet and salty tang and he has this bitter taste, metallic and sweaty and much less pleasant. Stu’s flavour isn’t much better, and his blow job etiquette leaves a lot to be desired with how he buries his fingers in your hair and forces you down until you gag, doesn’t let up until you push with more force than you should have to on his thighs to be able to just fucking breathe properly. You were glad you pre-lubed yourself in the bathroom to help make this easier because Tatum was right, Stu’s tongue is overrated.

He is sloppy in an overly enthusiastic way that sadly, doesn’t make up for the lack of any real technique, he can’t hold a candle to any of the experiences you have had previously with your girlfriends. Your fingers thread in his short hair and you pull, rolling your hips with a moan as you try to think of Sidney being in between your thighs earlier that very week. Stu doesn’t make it easy for you to pretend with how rough his treatment is, Sidney’s face is softer as is the stroke of her tongue but still you manage to be convincing that it felt fantastic rather than painful and overstimulating in the worst way.

Again you thank God for the lube you applied because lord knows Stu’s oral skills and Billy’s pawing hands aren’t doing anything to help make you naturally wet.

Things progress further and you fear that this might seriously hurt, it doesn’t thankfully, but there is a present ache, who would have thought penetration with a real dick rather than the imitation would feel so different? If anything the few sharp inhales and tense body help, again they think you have no experience and so showing no pain outwardly wouldn’t make sense. You play it all up of course, both the pain and the pleasure, one blending into the other as it progresses.

You insisted on condoms of course but still, it was an uncomfortably intimate experience in Billy’s arms, him looking down at you as you “lose your virginity to him”, he was clear how totally fucking lovesick he is. Doing this in front of Stu, him so close, touching you, talking to you, made this all the worse, it was nearly overwhelming and not in a fun way.

It pushes you forward, you play hardball and really take initiative and all in all, ten minutes, two condoms later you are definitely sore and putting your clothes back on. They were still clinging onto you, soon as your shirt is pulled back down and your jeans are buttoned they have you all wrapped up in your arms and you want to groan and push them off, you just had them literally inside of you two minutes ago, can’t they chill out for five fucking seconds?

Instead you take a deep breath and sling an arm around each of them, not much longer, less than an hour, you do your best to attempt to enjoy what would surely be your last cuddle session in your faux triad.

Said next hour was pretty chaotic. The distraction worked well, got everyone else out of the house except for who was meant to die and you were finally all where you were supposed to be. You were heaving, just finished running, Sidney and Tatum have Billy and Stu injured and cornered and even then, when it looked like they were done for, their concern was with you, a shout to get out of here, to run and the pair of masked killers straighten up, a look over their respective shoulders and a question of, “Should we fill em in?”

“I think that is only fair.” Came your response, a nod of agreement from them along with saying, “You are so right.”

The masks came off and the looks of shock on their faces were a million times more satisfying then the sex you had earlier with them.

Those looks slightly morphed to ones of confusion as you walked right up between the pair, just like you had with them previously, an arm slings around each of them, “Jesus that is a lot of blood, you two are brutal.”

“Had to make sure they wouldn’t get back up and try anything.” Sidney said with a shrug and Tatum, same as always, a tap of her cheek and you smile, a fond roll of your eyes before you lay a kiss down on her crimson smeared cheek, she greets you once the action of affection has been laid down, “Hi baby.”

“Hiya Tate.” You coo in return with a smile.

“How’s your night been?” You ask and Sidney scoffs, “Exhausting, hosting a party is just so much work, you know?”

You giggle, you love this, Tatum spilled to you that after getting stab happy Sidney gets jokey and silly, seeing it in person was too fun, too good for words. “Yeah, you must be dog tired.”

“Mmm, seriously. You know what is the worst thing about hosting a party?” Tatum asks and you respond curiously, “What is that?”

“The clean up.” Tatum said with a wave of her knife towards Billy and Stu, leaning against each other, clutching their wounds and still bleeding at a very steady rate. Finally Stu speaks up, “What the fuck is going on?!”

It interrupts your laughing over Tatum’s joke, and Sidney said, “Awe they still aren’t getting it.”

“You wanna help spell it out, baby?” The blonde asked and you nodded, “Course.”

You let go of them and take a step forward, you crouch down and look between the pair, “So-” you gesture between you and Billy and Stu, “-this? Was an act. What was between us? Our whole entire relationship? Was made up. Completely false, well, at least on my end.”

Eyes locked on Billy’s face, his lips are parted, there are tears staining his cheeks along, cutting messy tracks through the sweat and the blood, “You…You faked our entire relationship for-”

“Months.” You said easily, as if it was a plain as the clear blue sky, cutting off his sentence and finishing it all in one. Stu jumped in, there was blood down his chin, he had been coughing, he was cut deep, “The dates, the talks, the-”

“Sex? Oh my God, especially the sex.” You laughed and Billy seemed to get angry, “No way, I don’t believe it, there is no way that it was all pretend!”

“It was! It very much was.” You stood up straight, and Stu chimed in, “Yeah, I call bullshit-”

“Oh yeah? You need to be convinced?” You ask and when their expressions do not shift you put more of that “practice” to good use. Immediately switching it up, your eyes close, hands in your own hair, a few deep breaths, a few impassioned moans, calling out, sounding pitch perfect as if you were mid-fuck, “Shi-shit, Billy, ah! Stu, right there, don’t stop-”

Billy looked so betrayed, so hurt, it was delicious. Tatum praised, “Man, you do that shit so well.” You thanked her, "Couldn't do it without either of you giving me all those experiences to call back on." You then proceeded to launch into continuing to berate the two men bleeding out at your feet.

“Christ, you are just so fucking convinced that it is impossible for me to not be pathetically desperate for you two idiots like you are for me.” You sigh as you take a step back to be between Sidney and Tatum. “If your small brains can believe it, along with pretending to be with you, I’ve actually been really dating these two on the sly.”

The shock just continues, stunned silence as you heap on, “And it was all their idea! Been helping me the whole way so I could assist them and make this-” You gesture to the messy kitchen around you, “-all happen.”

You didn’t stop talking, “Every time we finished a hang out, a study sesh, a date, I would leave you both and go running back to them and man we would fucking laugh and laugh over all the dumbass shit you said.”

“Oh fuck, remember that night you told us about Billy telling you he loved you?!” Tatum laughed, her hand smacking you on the shoulder and Sidney perked up even more, “Oh my God!”

“I just love you so much-” You three mocked through fake tears before falling into a serious laughing fit.

“I did! I did love you, we both did-” Billy sobbed and you said, “I know that you did. It’s what made it so easy to trick you.”

“I told you everything, I was so open with you an-and you just-” His sentence broke off and you said, “Broke your heart? I know. Poor baby, I can be a real bitch.”

Stu began to make a move to try and get up, holding his side and Tatum’s laughing cut off, she fell to her knees, fingers in his hair, not unlike yours were earlier and she had the knife to his throat. “Don’t think I won’t do it. I’ve thought so much about it. Could slice your throat up and make a massive mess with very little effort.”

“You are all fucking crazy.” Stu spat and Sidney seemed less than impressed as she bit back, “Yeah real original Stuart.”

Sidney sighed then before she said, “So I’m getting just a touch bored so allow me to spell it out. I killed your mom, me and Tate are gonna kill you and Stu and pin it all on your dad. Got it?”

“Why?” Billy asked through more tears and you all groaned. “Oh my God, isn’t it obvious?”

Sidney kept going, “Because your mom ruined my fucking life, destroyed my family but yours stayed together! How is that fair?!”

Tatum chimed in, tone as lethal as she was, “It isn’t.”

“Right. It isn’t! So me and Tate and your little not-girlfriend cooked up this scheme to even the scales a bit.” Sidney was approaching Billy, knife brandished and she kept talking, “It was laughably simple and I am so fucking excited that I am going to be the one to run you through and get away with it.”

Stu was getting weaker and weaker, the blood was welling up from how hard Tatum was holding the knife to his throat, “Fu-fuck you.”

“Awe, we already did that and I gotta say, it wasn’t anything to write home about. You both called it, Billy's fingering is terrible, and Stu couldn't use that tongue properly to save his life! I dunno how I managed to fake my way through that mess.” You mocked him further still before saying. “But really we should wrap this up so in closing, Stu?”

You turned to him, “You are without a doubt one of the biggest, dumbest, most undeservedly overconfident assholes I’ve ever had the displeasure of getting to know.”

Turning to the other you say, “And Billy? You are a pathetic, whiny, fucking momma’s boy who no one is gonna miss.”

“Cold blooded!” Tatum laughed and Sidney cheered, “Well said! Couldn’t have put it any better myself.”

A look from brunette to blonde, knives at the ready, positioned just so, you watch with bated breath as there is a question of, “Ready?”

“As I’ll ever be.”

#this actually tore me apart #it was so nasty and horrible in the best way #reverse poly ghostface is so delicious and wonderful #ate and left the plate CLEAN #fuck man

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polyghostfacehours · 10 months

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For Multi-May!!

I so desperately wanted to think of a really great request or suggestion but know that I have the opportunity all of my ideas have vanished.

So instead, I want to ask for Stu & Billy poly!ghostface with a plot or idea that you've always wanted to write but never got around to. It could also be any other poly!ship you have That One Idea for that you just never had the perfect opportunity to write.

I'm essentially giving you a wildcard! I'm super curious if you have any ideas like that - Ideas that for some reason you just never get around to even though they plague your mind. Because I sure do.

- 🦇

Well Batty! This is such a fun one! I have gotten in the habit of always writing whatever I want for myself all the time now but still, I have had this idea for a long ass time and have never gotten around to it so thanks for the excuse! Your request is the second entry for Multi-May, Billy loving lingerie and my assorted thoughts about that, so let’s go!

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Rating. Explicit. Length. 2.5K. Billy Loomis X Stu Macher X FEM! AFAB! Reader. Poly!Ghostface. No Pronouns Specified. Warnings: Established Poly! Relationship. Could Be Read As TBABTO Compliant. Fear Play. Knife Play. Banter. Dirty Talk. Spanking. Vaginal Fingering. Vaginal Sex. Softness. Feelings. Mid-Sex Introspection Kind Of. Domesticness. Creampie. Slight Overstim. Sloppy Seconds.

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I Love You Best In…

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Billy Loomis has always loved lingerie, ever since the first time he found out it was a thing when saw something lacy and pretty and soft in a catalogue. The thing was, he wasn’t picky, he loved it all, whether it was cotton candy pink and fluffy, almost like a cupcake; or something tight, with straps on straps, criss-crossing over each other and black, as if ripped right out of a trashy goth themed porno.

He didn’t care, it was all good. He even preferred you leaving it on, would love to just displace it, pull particular parts aside to reach what he wanted to, something about that made it feel better, rushed, hotter for him. He loved you naked, naturally, but there was something so appealing with the lingerie worn askew, and framing your best assets as he fucked into you.

As soon as you found out that he had this weakness you of course exploited it at every single turn. You would wear just about anything, matching sets, thigh high stockings, once you found an obscenely short dress that was made of nothing but black fishnet and that poor piece of clothing was ruined beyond recognition by the time he was through with it.

He would ask, make requests from time to time but much more often than not it wasn’t necessary, you’d play dress up plenty without him needing to prompt you. He has seen you in all manner of differently delightful and debauched attire and various states of dress, so why was this the thing that did him in the most? Coming into the bedroom to find you folding laundry, his eyes dragging up your bare legs to see all you had on was that big slouchy white sweater that Stu loved so much and judging by how high the hem rose while lifting your arms, seemingly nothing else. Billy isn’t able to just watch for long, before need overcomes and he is sauntering into the room, he doesn’t bother greeting you verbally, instead letting his hands rest on your waist. How you jumped in surprise was endlessly satisfying for Billy, he never got tired of getting the drop on you, scaring you.

Your head turns and upon seeing Billy’s face you soften, shoulders dropping back down, you roll your eyes and sigh, “Shoulda known it was you.”

“Who else would it be?” He asked and your head turned forward again, focusing back on folding the shirt that was in your hands. He leaned in closer, his chin resting on your shoulder, his hands sliding forward, over your stomach, holding you. He could really appreciate the soft material of the clothing item you stole from Stu, now being so close he could smell his scent lingering in the white fibres. He inhales deeper but tries to keep it subtle, if you do notice you don’t comment on it, instead answering the question he posed previously.

“Oh I dunno, maybe the guy who’s sweater I’m wearing right now?” You ask and he says, “Stu doesn’t like scaring you as much as I do.”

“True, not in the same way that you do at least.” His hands start to move, sliding over you, enjoying the sensation of the top sliding over your skin, “And how’s that?”

A hum before you say, “You like doing it like you just did, sneaking up on me, making me jump, and sure Stu does sometimes too but he prefers making me really scared, making it real and intense.”

His head lifts and he leans over your shoulder, getting a better look at your face, “You want to share an example?”

You give a small smile and with a shrug you pick up a pair of his jeans and start to fold them next, “Sure, like, last week, we were doing the dishes and at one point Stu picks up this big fucking knife I used to prep dinner earlier, right?”

He nods, his hands continue to wander, taking their time. “Mmhm, go on.”

You do, “So he takes the knife and starts waving it around and bringing it close to me and it’s all fun and whatever but then he, like, pushes me into the counter suddenly.”

His hands move lower, the fingers on one of his hands catch the bottom hem of your sweater, starting to drag it up, and the other starts to run over the newly exposed skin.

You are still talking, “He’s got a hand on my throat and the knife is so close to my face and he is giving me that look, you know it, like he is hungry and manic, And he’s saying all these terribly threatening things in that low sweet tone with that big fucking grin and it’s-”

“Terrifying?” He asks, his own smile clear in his tone, as his hand slides between your legs and you sigh out, head tipping back, “Very.”

He starts to touch, slow and easy and he asks another question, “And then?”

Your eyes fall closed and you tell him, “And then he just stops, just backs off and laughs like it is some big joke and he’s back to normal and I’m left reeling and have to go back to doing the fucking dishes.”

“Sounds like Stu.” He sounds amused. You are sure he is picturing the exchange right now and likes it, his fingers don’t relent, they become more focused, pick up the pace and the pleasant sensation starts to sink in and you nod with a soft moan, “Mmm, totally him.”

You’ve abandoned folding the clothes, simply holding the denim in your grasp and just as you are starting to really sink into the feeling of Billy touching you, his hands are lifting up, instead he pushes you forward. You weren’t expecting it and fell onto the clean pile of laundry on the bed, his hands are back on you, resting on your hips, forcing them up, causing the sweater you had on to get pulled up in the process, exposing you to him. Turns out you did have something under Stu’s sweater but it is so small that only until now with you so spread and exposed can he see it properly. This is a newer piece, he’d been with you when you bought it, along with several other fun things, but he hadn’t seen it on you yet, sheer, delicate and white, matching the sweater with startling accuracy.

“Fuck, you look so good like this.”

Oh you know that tone and know it well, guess this one is another winner, you bite back a smile, his hands are back to moving on you. One comes to a stop on your lower back, holding you in position, the other between your spread legs, touching you through the material and the extra friction it provides is good, you of course alert him to that fact with a quiet moan of his name. The touching you doesn’t last long, only until he sees the clear and visible wet spot spreading over and seeping through the thin white that barely covers your cunt. Soon enough he is pulling them aside, two fingers sink inside of you, curling and feeling, his thumb swipes over your clit and you clench around him. He groans at feeling your walls gripping at his fingers, he asks, “God, you’re this wet already?”

“Mighta had a make out sesh with Stu before he had to get to class but we couldn’t do anything serious.” You admit and he praises, it sounded like he was smiling, “What a good boy he is, warming you up for me.”

“Yeah he’s the best, isn’t he?” You agree with a small laugh that he returns and then Billy’s fingers are leaving you, his jeans are too tight, it is starting to border on painful and he needs you. The sound of his belt hits your ears next, unsurprising and you are not complaining. You had already been thinking about seeking Billy out for this very thing once the laundry was done, finishing what Stu started earlier, scratching that itch.

He nudges you up the bed with a light smack landing on your ass and you do as instructed, you move up and he gets onto the mattress too, one hand on you and the other on the base of himself he lines up. He is rushing but he has to have you, about to fuck you on the clean pile of laundry with no care, he is in the right position and his hips press forward and he slides in easily.

It’s dirty and it’s quick but it satisfies you both, the stretch of him feels fantastic with just that slight achy burn from him fucking you just a little too hard and just a bit too fast. He more than makes up for it, his chest to your back, hot breath in your ear, wandering hands and filthy words, broken praise among the strained sounds of pleasure, “God, so good, how-fuck-how are you, so, so fucking good?”

You loved when he was so into it, could hardly talk straight without letting out at least one moan or a curse, not like you were much better at the moment.

Currently all you could seem to do was gasp out his name and your own series of swear words. He was obsessed with this, fucking you in this way, his treatment rough but the sweater you wore so soft, smelling like your shared partner, it’s like you were all wrapped up in Stu but still you. His favorite was sharing you with him but if he couldn’t be here then this was the way to fuck you, the reminder of his best friend, his confidant, his partner in crime unignorable.

He loves this sweater, so many memories tied to it and just to Stu, his eyes closed and he is overrun with the times Stu and he were close enough that he could smell him, feel him, those precious first times that changed everything. Christ, why was this getting to him so badly? Making him so sappy and soft, seeing you, wrapped in Stu’s clothes, in your shared apartment, it’s domestic and sweet, honestly everything Billy has ever wanted. You in leather or lace is good, is hot, you in this though? It is a reminder that shit worked out, he has not just one but two people devoted to him, who love him for who he is, it’s stability and safety, comfort but still finding ways to keep things exciting even while feeling all of that.

It’s doing him in faster than he would like, he wants you to reach your end too, he rushes out, “Touch yourself.”

He doesn’t need to ask twice, his hips snapping into yours, one of his hands reaching around, palming one of your tits through the sweater, the other still on the bed to help keep himself up right and your own hand shooting between your thighs. He cums before you do with a groan of your name, body tensing and him holding to the hilt inside but it doesn’t take much more for you to find your own end, nimble fingers stroke yourself just so and you cum with him still inside of you a minute after he does.

Your walls pulsing on him post orgasm making him inhale through his teeth at the slight overstimulation that washes over him but he endures, it hurts so good. Your high finds its natural end and it leaves you both panting, trying to catch your breath, he pulls away first, sliding out and the amount of him inside of you spills out, that snaps you back to reality very quickly. You reach back, tug the underwear into place to try and stop the drip from making this worse, you sit up, look over your shoulder and you curse seeing the leaked mess of you and him on one of your favourite shirts, “Fucksake Billy, I just cleaned these clothes.”

He is tugging his pants back up and rolls his eyes, saying like it is obvious with a smile on his face, “So clean em again.”

Before you can get up to do that or protest further he is back on the bed and wrapping you up, pulling you down with him, you sigh, knowing that laundry is out till he is satisfied with cuddling you.

You end up falling asleep there for a while and later on you find yourself back at folding the laundry. Billy was nice enough to wash and dry it at the very least before he had to go to a late class. Stu’s sweater needed to be cleaned, some of the hem got messed up and cum stained and it got pretty sweaty overall from how hard you were going at it, so you swapped out Stu’s sweater for this dark blue and white flannel shirt Billy favoured.

Hearing the apartment door open and you call out that you are in the bedroom and in a minute Stu comes into the room to find you just about done with your task and he sounds delighted by what he sees, “Oooh well hello there.”

A look over your shoulder and you return his greeting, “Hello to you too.”

“You still doing laundry?” He asked, clearly confused, “You were doing this when I left hours ago.”

Laughing, you tell him as you turn back to his task, “Yeah, ask Billy about it later.”

You hear him come closer, he leans down, kisses you on the cheek before telling you, “I’ll do that.”

“How was class?” You ask and he shrugs as he is telling you, “Fine.”

He flops down onto the bed, the cleared space next to where the clean folded clothes are as opposed to on top of them, thankfully. He reached out and tugs on the bottom hem of the flannel, “I like you in Billy’s clothes.”

A grin spreads over your face and you joke, “Shocker.” The look on his face reminds you of the one back in the kitchen earlier that you told Billy.

“I know, so predictable, right?” He reaches out, one hand locks on your wrist and the other tugs the shirt you were folding out of your hands, “How about we finish what we started earlier?”

You sigh and toss the shirt aside, one of your knees comes down onto the bed, he rolls onto his back and you climb aboard to straddle him. His hands land on your thighs and as they run up the shirt is moved as well for you to be greeted with the clean pair of underwear you changed into after your post hook up shower with Billy, blue and not unlike the shirt you had on, you were in a matching mood today it seems. “Oooh, fuck.”

A roll of your hips, grinding down, feeling Stu quickly getting hard in his pants your head lolls back the spike of sensation. You give into the moment with Stu, positive that once he has your panties off and sees how much you are leaking, realizing you fucked Billy earlier and he gets to have his sloppy seconds that it will be another fun and hot quickie. After all of that you are promising to yourself that after you ride him that you will finish this damn laundry, even if it kills you.

#RAAAAH IM COOOMING

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polyghostfacehours · 10 months

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(Barbie mugshot prompt)

Danny Johnson’s first mugshot vs Jed Olsen’s first warning letter

Now added a canon (driver license) hairstyle, ⚠️bloody version here

Have some shitpost and a lovely Friday!

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polyghostfacehours · 1 year

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"Lessons In Faking It Redux." Reverse!Poly!Ghostface X FEM! AFAB! Reader.

Well, hello, hello, hello! This is so exciting! The very first fic of Multi-May! I chose to kick it off by doing a re-do of Lessons In Faking It. This was supposed to be a collab with an old friend, I was to do the set up and they were supposed to do part two but I wrote this back in August of 2021 so I doubt they are gonna get to it, so expect ME doing part two later this month! So let’s get into it.

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Rating. Explicit. Length. 4.8K. Reverse!Poly!Ghostface X FEM! AFAB! Reader. Warnings: Cheating. Lying. Faking. Dating. Angst. Hurt. Toxic Shit. Angst. Talk Of Murder Plots. Dirty Talk. Vaginal Fingering. Cunnilingus. Meanness. So Much Meanness. So Much Shit Talking. Threesomes. Face Sitting. Strap-On Sex. Possessiveness. Jealousy. Reclaiming. Sidney And Tatum Being Bitchy As Fuck. Apologies To Billy And Stu. I Love Them And Don’t Mean The Nasty Shit I Said.

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You couldn’t have asked for a nicer day really.

Currently you were walking in between them, Stu had an arm around your shoulders and your hand at your side as is Billy’s, fingers tangled together, you were all coming back from a little study date. The three of you had taken over a table outside the ice cream parlour next to the video store you all frequented, books sprawled out as you worked on your respective assignments. Easy conversation was shared as was laughter between melting bites of refreshingly cool and fruity sorbet.

It was a nice way to spend a warm afternoon, right now Stu was talking to Billy about something in a shared class they both had that you didn’t, and you just listened.

“I’m not saying there isn’t any merit in analysis but I don’t care about what the flower choices in this stupid book means, ya know?”

You rolled your eyes fondly, an action Stu definitely noticed but kept talking regardless, leaning down as he did so, “Why couldn’t the author be more forthright with that knowledge? If it was really fuckin’ important than the old prick would make it clear, not leave it up to high schoolers to parse in third period.”

Stu complained further as he held up the book he and Billy were both being forced to read in English and Billy agreed, simply with a nod, “I hear you man, but do you think you might be a bit too worked up over this one?”

Stu gasped, smacking his own chest with the book, "Billy, baby, are you defending this piece of shit, sorry excuse for a storyteller? Over me?"

"I'm just saying you're talking like the guy was writing it to piss you off specifically, it isn’t personal." Billy said with a casual shrug. Stu asks you, "Are you hearing this?"

"Oh I'm hearing it, alright." The tone makes Billy snicker and Stu scoff, "Unbelievable. Both my boyfriend AND girlfriend are against me."

You squeeze Billy’s hand and that had him glance down to you, a soft smile on his face, he gave a squeeze back in acknowledgement and you leaned closer into Stu as well who pulled his arm tighter around you.

Hmm. Cute.

Soon you were where you needed to be and in the process of saying good-bye to them, telling them it was a good time and you’d see them soon. They lingered as they always did, drawing out hugs and both taking the time to be all sweet, pressing farewell kisses to your mouth that were still a bit sticky from your afternoon snack and then they were off.

Both gave a wave as they called out, “Say hi to Sid and Tate, yeah?”

You smiled and called back, an enthusiastic wave of your own, “Yeah of course. Bye boys!”

Watching until they turned the corner and were out of sight, a sigh left you, shoulders dropping and your smile falling. You wiped over your mouth with the back of your hand, a slight sound of disgust leaving you as you tried to scrub off the feeling of their lips on yours.

You adjusted your bag on your shoulder as you headed up Sidney’s driveway, one word muttered under your breath, “Idiots.” If only they knew your true nature and what was in store for them.

They were just so unaware, if you had any semblance of a moral compass or a conscience you just might feel bad about it, or about what was to come. Good thing that petty things like that didn’t weigh you down. The door was unlocked with the key Sidney gave you months ago and you came in, shoes were taken off and you took a quick look around, they must be upstairs. In a minute’s time you were waltzing into Sidney’s bedroom.

You find Sidney on her bed, laying on her stomach, magazine open in front of her and Tatum sitting right next to her, reading over her shoulder. As soon as you enter, both are looking up to you, Tatum nudged Sidney as she said, “See, there she is.”

Tatum greeted you first with a smile, a warm and flirty call of, “Hey gorgeous.”

Sidney followed up, significantly less pleased, “Hi.” She flipped the magazine closed then asked, “Took you long enough, what happened?”

You dropped your bag and came over, hands already outstretched and an apologetic look thrown their way. “Hey. So sorry but you know how those two can be, they just don’t shut up, it took me a while to squirm away.”

A knee on the mattress you leaned down, you can recognize the look in the blonde’s eyes and you moved down to give her what she is silently asking for, just as she always did when you had been apart for an extended period of time. You pressed a kiss to Tatum’s lips, hands cradling her face, satisfying her adorable need for a kiss hello before releasing her, leaning down further still and brushing some hair aside before placing one on Sidney’s forehead. “Forgive me?”

“You’re lucky that you are so cute.” Sidney said with a shake of her head and a fond smile on her face, she sat up and you asked hopefully, “So all is forgiven?”

She slung an arm around your shoulders, not unlike Stu did earlier, as she said, “Yeah, yeah all’s forgiven.”

You moved closer into her, a kiss placed on her jaw as you said, “Thank you.” A hum of acknowledgement from her, obviously enjoying how close you were, clearly she had missed you too.

“Besides, how could we ever stay mad at you when you work so hard for us?” Tatum reached out, hand meeting your cheek and yeah she was right.

The reality is that your relationship with Billy and Stu was all a ruse, totally false on your end, you were actually with Sidney and Tatum, and your two girlfriends have a very particular ‘hobby’ that you helped facilitate. They had this grand plan and you were such an important and integral part to make sure it went off without a hitch. Sidney had beef with Billy and his family, with what happened with her mother, she wanted to ruin his fucking life, tear it all apart and with a twist of her ankle; crush the pieces under the heel of her boot until there was nothing but minor traces of blood and viscera smashed into concrete.

Tatum had always been there for Sidney, they had been friends forever and she had been in love with her for years, she was there for Sidney through it all. When Sidney spilled her metaphorical guts and told Tatum everything she was feeling and thinking, all the horribleness she wanted to engage in, the hurt and pain she wanted to inflict on Billy’s family at the end of a knife for breaking up her own family and destroying her life, Tatum simply asked her, “Well when do we start?”

Everyone needs a best friend like Tatum really. Was there anyone more ride or die than Tatum Riley? You weren’t sure, she was just so damn supportive of you and Sid, totally in your corner, would do anything for you both and you felt the same way, would do anything for them.

Maureen Prescott has a bad reputation, and not without good reason, not like you’d ever say that to Sidney, but she did fuck Billy’s dad while both of them were married to other people. Sidney’s dad found out and their marriage crumbled, Sid’s mom split, leaving her totally fucking heartbroken, she felt so abandoned and so angry. She placed that blame on Mrs.Loomis, was it fair?

Not necessarily but hey she was hurting and what kind of average person jumps right to murder anyway, the logic of, “If she kept him satisfied he never would have cheated and broken up MY fucking family” made sense to her.

Since she lost her mom she felt it only appropriate that Billy lose his. They told you all the grisly details of it, the sounds she made, the small amount of fight she put up, Sidney gleefully telling you how she not only bled like a stuck pig but “-she looked and squealed like one too.”

Tatum joined in to tell you that, “It was a great date night, we felt a lot closer after that.”

The plan went off perfectly, no suspicion on them and now that it was almost a full year later, nearly the anniversary of Mrs.Loomis’ death it was onto the next phase of the plan.

Kill, cut, rip, tear and maim, a violent bloodbath and make it look like it, all of it, was the fault of one Mr.Loomis. You were brought into the plan to pile it on, really make it hurt, there to be with Billy and help make the betrayal of it hurt all the more before they killed him too. Getting to that point of your involvement and trust wasn’t easy but you more than proved yourself and earned it.

Sidney and Billy dated for a while but when shit hit the fan their relationship ended in short order, her mom bailed and Sid just couldn’t stand it, couldn’t tolerate being with him like that. She wanted to really make this whole thing as painful as possible and you pretending to be with him, pretending to care, fake dating him would be the cherry on top. Sidney was dying to see the look of betrayal on Billy’s face when he learns his sweet girlfriend was faking literally everything for months and not only that but was entangled with his mothers killers.

Tatum had dated Stu briefly herself but it didn’t last long, originally you were only supposed to get with Billy, the Stu thing just kind of happened and after a talk it was decided that hey it was even better to ol Sid and Tate.

You getting involved with both of them, forming that little triad, it would be all the more deliciously painful when you revealed that it was all for show, that you had been in on the plan. It would make it hurt so much worse when it all came crashing down around the pair of them.

Could anyone truly blame Sidney Prescott for wanting to rip Billy Loomis’ fucking heart out and crush it in her hands right before his very eyes? Well sure a lot of people could, but not Tatum.

Not you.

You hadn’t known them or been friends with them as long as they had been with each other but you were just as invested, cared just as much, were so into the both of them. When they shared the plan of what they wanted to do you were already in so deep, so utterly smitten with them both that when they mentioned they had wanted your help, you didn’t need much convincing.

The next feeling was a familiar one, Sidney’s arms wrapping around your waist, pulling you closer, your back to her chest, her legs on either side of your hips, her face in the crook of your neck, snuggling closer still. “I hate when you smell like him.”

Ah yes, this kind of thing happens often. Both of them, but especially Sidney feels this intense need to reclaim you, this incessant urge to mark you as hers and Tatum’s again, make it so you smelt like them, could taste only them on your tongue. She craves to make you say their names over and over again in every fashion imaginable, like a sigh and a curse and just overwhelm you with feeling until there is nothing on your mind other than them.

Overloading you with sensation was their favourite pastime other than that aforementioned hobby.

You loved it too.

“What are you gonna do about that?” You teased and Tatum was closing in on you too, her hands resting on the tops of your thighs, “Ooh I think we both have lots of ideas to fix that little problem.”

You were very sure about that. A big grin as you say, “Oh I bet.”

Hands reach out, your fingers curling in the straps of Tatum’s tank top and using them to pull her to you, kissing her. You didn’t get a good feel or taste from that small peck earlier but now you realise the lip gloss she had on today tasted like peaches and it made you let out a small and satisfied hum.

Sidney’s hands started to wander, one sliding up your side leisurely, under your shirt and the other running down and touching your inner thigh, she had started to kiss the side of your neck, you could still feel how tense she was. She muttered out, “Hate his stupid fucking cologne.”

Tatum pulled back from your kiss with a laugh, you love her smile when she is like this, “God, right? Does he drown himself in the stuff or what?”

You couldn’t stifle your giggle, he kinda did. "Seriously what is that God awful scent he favours?" You ask and Sidney fills in the blank, quick wit as always, "Eau de asshole. Obviously."

Tatum was still so close, her nose on yours and you pressed another kiss to the corner of her mouth between you both giggling over Sidney’s joke. Your mouth moved along her jaw and by this point, they always ended up doing this. Would talk down about Billy and Stu so much after you saw them, it was kind of part and parcel at this point.

Sidney’s hand had made it between your thighs by now, feeling you up over your pants, you pushed your hips up, tilting more into her touch, the light friction was good. She wasn't overly gentle with you, and knew just how to get to you. Her other hand was up your shirt, palming one of your tits through your bra and then came another part that you were all too used to, relaying what happened to them.

“What’d they have to say this time?” Tatum asked, tone much more amused, her hands were on your hips, you having paused your assault of affection, too caught up in the feeling which led Tatum to watch as Sidney’s hands worked you over. She loved to watch you both together, something about it was just so hot, and also made her feel so warm too, she took in the view and you started to reply to her question.

“Nothing interesting-” Sidney bit down on the side of your throat and it made your sentence stop with a sharp inhale of air before continuing on, “-stupid shit about assignments and classes, dumb jokes, dumber movie opinions, you know how it goes.”

Your head tilted back, exposing more of your throat to her and the hand between your thighs pressed a bit harder, focusing a little more and as her other hand was rolling one of your nipples between her fingers you completely forgot what you were talking about.

“I don’t know how you put up with it.” Tatum hummed and Sidney scoffed, “I dunno how WE put up with it back then.”

She pulled back from your throat as she spoke up, “Truly, what would we do without you?”

You couldn’t help it, loved it when they praised you, would flourish under their attention, you let out a sigh and said, “Just be glad you don’t have to find out. I’m not going anywhere.”

They both liked to hear that and Tatum hooked her fingers in your belt loops and tugged just like you had done to her top earlier, asking with no small amount of heat, “You down for some practice?”

Oh nothing sounded better. You needed this right now. You gave an enthusiastic nod, “God yes, please?”

“So eager.” You could hear the slight smirk in Sidney’s tone, she was loosening up just a bit, good, you were glad. It was hard to stay in a bad mood with the prospect of what was to come right there.

You might be wondering what ‘practice’ with them entailed, what is it that you were practising for exactly?

It all stemmed from your idea initially, that you should lead them on, get so close to them and then ‘lose your virginity’ to them the night of the party, again another layer, more chance to truly hurt them. So this fun little exercise began, that first night you remember so well.

Sidney between your legs, hands resting on your spread thighs as Tatum was beside you on the couch, alternating between kissing you and whispering in your ear as her fingers dragged over your exposed skin. The feeling her hands left in their wake was a lot to handle, you weren’t sure if you wanted to wiggle away or lean into it, Sidney was eating you out beautifully and there was your shared girlfriend, brushing some of your hair aside and whispering in your ear, “Feels good right?”

You nodded and almost whimpered, barely able to hide the sound and Tatum had her fingers under your chin, tilting your face to hers, God she was so beautiful like this, she spoke to you again, “You’re paying attention right?”

Another nod, you were certainly trying to. Her thumb brushed over your bottom lip and then Sid was doing something with her tongue that made your thighs tense and let a moan spill from your mouth, eyes unfocused and Tatum couldn’t be more into the sight, amused by how easily they could make you break apart for them. “Mmm good.”

Tatum kissed you and it was full of want, her hand still under your chin as her tongue got into the mix and you moaned into her open mouth as Sid started to ease two fingers into you. “Fuck-”

You breathed it out against Tatum’s lips and she pulled back, praising you, “Yeah like that, remember how you moaned just like that.”

You ended up coming so hard that night on Sidney’s tongue and fingers, you were barely floating down from your high when Sidney was looking up at you, head leaning on your thigh, her mouth was still wet from you as she said, “If you are able to fake it half as good as that they will totally buy it.”

So to ensure that you, their precious little partner in crime/girlfriend/actor would be up for the role, a lot more practising and rehearsals would be needed. Something you welcomed openly, you couldn't help how much you got off on it when they were like this, giving you instructions and leading you, telling you how best to act and pleasuring you so amazingly, praising you all the while.

It was enough to make your head swim right along with making your cunt drip.

You were a quick study and took direction well, you were sure you had it down pat but you weren’t about to stop them, not when reaping the benefits felt so fucking good.

The time you were sitting on Tatum’s face, her hands on your ass, you were grinding down onto her mouth, the question fell from your lips without you planning on it, “Be honest Tate, fuck, how’s Stu’s tongue?”

Your curiosity was something that you couldn’t shake, he almost always had that damn tongue hanging out of his mouth and you know just why he did it, to get you and anyone else thinking about what he might be capable of. Worst of all is that it worked, you had been thinking about it. Morbid curiosity got the better of you.

She pulled back, head falling back against the bed and she looked up at you, breathless laugh as she made eye contact with you and she asked, “Honestly?”

You replied with a small smile, “Honestly.”

A genuine want to know and she said it in that way that only she could, this particular kind of fire and bite behind it, obviously truthful and drawn from personal experience and fact, “Overrated.”

She laughed again and so did you until warm breath fans over slick skin the only warning of her intentions of continuing her assault on you. Her mouth latched back onto your clit and that laughter from you bled into a moan as she sucked indulgently. You asked later on if she was being serious and she told you that, “It’s a damn shame truly, honestly with some good direction he might actually be worth a damn at eating pussy. But as it stands right now? Don’t hold your breath for a mind blowing experience.”

You loved when she was so harsh.

Loved it so much you would openly encourage her and Sidney bad mouthing them. A different evening, a late night date had turned to another ‘rehearsal’ and Sidney’s hands were on your hips, slowly pushing the dildo of her strap-on into you, throwing your head back with a bite of your lip and a moan, eyes rolling back. You recall Tatum telling you to do that a different session as she instructed you and then finished it off by telling you, “-guys love that shit.”

Tatum had your head in her lap, playing with your hair and she gave a low whistle, “Look at you! Like a duck to water, you do that move and he might just cum on the spot.”

Sidney laughed, rolling her hips as she sinks inside you again, “Seriously, have you seen how hot shit is? Might make Loomis cream his fucking jeans before he can even whip it out.”

Christ when she talked like that it did something to you.

Again you hoped you would be able to be convincing enough but they encouraged you so much and told you just how easy they would be to trick that any small and minute doubts you had kept melting every time you were sprawled between them.

The need overtook you and you looked up at Sidney as she started to move, hips pulling back before driving forward and it pulled a moan from you, a questioning gasp of, “Sid?”

She let out a hum, a harder thrust before she asked, “Yes, honey?” That somewhat sing-song and overly sweet tone, obviously enjoying herself, she was in a playful mood.

Looking up at her with the question falling off your tongue, “Tell me about it again?”

A light laugh, the sound of skin on skin as she didn’t stop, pace steady as she fucked into you, each plunge of sturdy silicone making another shock of sensation rush through you, “Oh did my little comment get you wanting? You want me to be mean?”

Tatum’s hands were sliding down your body and soon her fingers were between yours and Sid’s bodies, starting to circle your clit, making you buck under their shared effort with another ample moan and a shudder.

“Want me to shit-talk Billy “I-think-my-dick-is-God’s-gift-to-women” Loomis, huh?” She bites out, feeling a little breathless as she slams into you over and over.

Fuck yes you did want that. You begged for it, insanely needy, “Yes! Please?”

“Anything for you.” She sounded so warm, so affectionate. Tatum above you pressed harder and couldn’t hide her own smile as she said, “Oh this’ll be good.”

“Want me to tell you all about how he acts like he is hot shit? About how he talks about how he is gonna get you off soooo hard when his fingering technique is like he is digging for change in couch cushions?” Tatum and you both laughed, yours much more out of breath and strained, almost hiccupping in the pleasure.

Sidney’s grip on your hips tightened, she fucked into you harder and between her consistent and steady pace, as well as grinding into that sweet spot and Tatum not letting up on your clit you wouldn’t be lasting very long. They were just too good at this point, and knew your body so well.

“Want me to tell you all about how he will act all concerned, all “Ooo I don’t wanna hurt you” talking like he is packing heat but it is just average-” Another hard thrust that ended in a grind, her leaning down breathing the next two words right in your ear, “-at best?”

“Fuck babe tell us how you really feel.” Tatum teased, you were way too into this, were unable to stop the small moans and curses and whines that left you, squirming under them and their conjoined effort.

They could be so mean and you adored it.

Tatum had shifted, one hand still working between your thighs and her other wrapped around the base of her own strap, pushing it against your lips, “If you want her to keep going you better start sucking, they’re probably gonna expect you to take them both at once.”

A few light smacks on your cheek with the flushed pink silicone and then you opened your mouth and let her slide in with ease. Her hand threaded in your hair and she tugged, “Make eye contact as you do it, slut. Make it convincing, I wanna believe that you need this dick more than you need air, got it?”

A weak nod and you pushed down further, looking at her, eyes pleading for more and moaning around the false cock approaching the back of your throat. You slowly pulled back, cheeks hollowing as you sucked obscenely, starting a slow but passionate pace and Tatum said, “Shit. That is good. You play the part so well, they won’t know what hit them”

Sidney let out a laugh, feeling you start to tremble in her grip, could feel how close you were getting, nails raking over your hips, she practically purred, “You’ll knock em dead, such a pretty little actress.”

“Actress? Try porn star.” Tatum fired back pulling another giggle from Sidney. You shouldn’t clench down on the strap like that or moan at her calling you a porn star but fuck, it made you want to whine.

But they weren’t the only ones who would talk shit. You joined in just as often. One night where you were focusing on them, putting those hands of yours to good use, you instigated it, your mouth pulled back from its place on Tatum’s chest and you looked up to her and Sid, taking in the sight of them kissing before saying, “Something happened with them today.”

You didn’t wait for a response, curling your fingers you pressed on and told them about your date earlier.

Billy had sat you and Stu down, with a confession in mind, he opened up by saying, “You and Stu mean so much to me I…I can’t tell you how thankful I am that you were here for me. That I’m not doing this alone, you’ve helped me out more than you know or I could say and just..I love you, both of you, so much.”

He positively poured his heart out to you and Stu and my lord, you couldn’t have been happier. You were giddy to tear away and run back to Sidney and Tatum to fill them in, just as you were right now.

You put on your best impression of him and mocked him, how he said and what he said and they swear in that moment they fell a bit harder for you than they had already.

It was perfect. Everything was going swimmingly. Tatum and Sidney were transfixed by you as you regaled them, hands still on each other but not moving/ Shared wide eyes and enraptured as they listened, barely able to breathe, almost no sound leaving them unless a particularly good thrust of your fingers drew one out of them.

“You should have seen him. He looked pathetic! He was almost crying, still whining about his mother.” Your mouth was on Sidney’s thigh, kissing up as your fingers slid into Tatum deeper, “He’s so weak.”

No this wasn’t perfect.

You were.

They were the ones who couldn’t believe their luck. Having someone like you so fully devoted to them, so invested, so ready and willing, yeah there was probably one person in Woodsboro who was more ride or die than Tatum Riley and that was you. Sick, twisted, equally as fucked up, you.

As your tongue stroked up over Sidney’s leaking slit, a slow circle over her clit before pulling it between your plush lips and sucking deeply, you looked up at them and gave your own confession, your own soul bearing admission. This one not mocking as you made fun of Billy, this one was your own and totally honest, “I love you both so much.”

Your girlfriends were confident in one thing at that moment. That yes you were perfect for them, an amazing accomplice and an even better actor but they just knew that with them?

You’d never, ever fake it.

#fuck fuck fuck i missed the reverse!polyghostface scenario #its such a bug brain idea #im so glad youre redoing it bex bc its actually a national treasure #and I cant wait for the part 2 bc lord knows youd make it better with your ✨️touch✨️#god #gf sidney and tate make me FEEL things #especially tatum #like the whole idea of a popular girl ghostface is hrrrrngh 🫶🫶🫶🫶#good shit op #i love it

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polyghostfacehours · 1 year

Note

(seems like a good place to leave this) Billy edging you until you're nearly screaming, then handing you over to Stu, who overstimulates you until you're definitely screaming. Thoughts?

So you throw two of my favourite boys, my all time fave poly ship at me with my favourite kink ever and expect me to not write something for it? You would be extremely mistaken Anon. I have so many thoughts about all this and this is literally THE place to leave a thought like this. So let’s get into it.

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Rating. Explicit. Length 2K. Billy Loomis X Stu Macher X AFAB! GN! Reader. They/Them Pronouns. Poly!Ghostface. Warnings: Dirty Talk. Edging. Orgasm Denial. Vaginal Fingering. Vibrator. Toy Use. Overstimulation. Hitting. Punishment Play. Pain Play. Begging. Crying. Forced Orgasm. Vaginal Sex. Billy And Stu Being The Worst/The Best.

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A Battle Of Wills.

—

This is your fault.

At least that is what he keeps saying to you, continually tells you and reminds you, that this is all because of you. To quote him about ten minutes ago when you were whining, “If you’d just kept your mouth shut I wouldn’t be doing this to you.”

You are positive that he thinks he is making a good point but no one is forcing him to do this, he made this choice of his own free will and speaking of will that is how this all started. Claims over who had the strongest will, who could last longest in this scenario, and you are coming to realise that perhaps you were too confident, okay, not just confident, leaning more towards outright cocky and now you were paying for it.

You were just so sure that Billy wouldn’t be able to have the self restraint for this, you thought that being naked and below him, moaning and squirming, fully on display. You thought the feeling, the view, hell even the smell would draw him in and make him cave before you did, and yet, you were, fuck, you aren’t even sure how many edges deep at this point. Billy was showing no signs of wanting to slow down or stop or even release himself from his jeans, that smug look on his face, between your splayed legs, two fingers lazily pumping in and out as his thumb circles your clit as he asks, “How you holding up?”

Asshole.

You open your mouth to speak and his thumb presses harder as his fingers curl just so and it makes you let out the most pathetic sounding moan as opposed to any actual proper words and he laughs, “That’s not a real answer.”

Sucking down a deep breath, brows stitched together as you try to ignore the pleasure coursing through your tense body as you try to push out a response that won’t have him mocking you. The words that leave you sound rushed and strained, “M’ fucking fine.”

“Oh yeah, you totally sound fine.” Your eyes run down the length of your body to him, staring up at you with that look that makes you clench around his fingers, something he of course notices and naturally comments on, “I felt that.”

Before you could say anything else another voice is cutting in that has both you and Billy’s attention snapping towards the bedroom door, seeing Stu leaning against the door frame looking all too amused, “Now what is going on here?”

“A battle of wills.” Billy says before his attention is returned to you along with the quickening of his fingers once more, “Oh really?”

“Mmm.” He hums out as Stu pushes off the door frame and comes closer, his gaze feels predatory and somehow makes you feel even more naked than you already are in your totally bare state.

Billy hadn’t stopped and Stu watching now was adding to this, pushing you to the edge quicker, pleasure spiking at an alarming rate. He was watching every small movement and reaction with great interest, the way your chest rose and fell, the stuttering of your words when you try to speak, the hitching of your breath.

"Hi." He greets with a small wave, playful and totally him and you push out the response of, "Hey Stu."

The sensation rises, climbs, you are almost there, you are too keyed up at this point to do anything to hide how you approached that ultimate moment and thus he knew just when to stop, just when to pull his fingers out. He was cleaning them off, a groan against his own slick digits, revelling in the taste of your pure unfiltered frustration as you fight off the urge to sob.

Stu was beside the bed, hands in his pockets, head cocked to the side slightly, eyes roving over your sweat soaked form and he spoke again, “Soooo, name of the game is who can break first? He edges you till you beg to cum or he breaks first and has to fuck you?”

Still breathless you nod, eyes falling closed as you try to regain some composure, Stu snickers, “Musta really pissed him off this time. How long you been at it man?”

“Oh what would you say? Getting near an hour now.” He admits and you huff out a weak, “Feels like two.”

“And you still haven’t given in, it’s honestly impressive.” Billy praises and the warm feeling of pleasing him washes over you briefly before he says, “But I gotta get going soon, so let’s wrap this up, okay?”

“Shit yeah, it’s Wednesday, you got a class soon.” Stu said as if he just remembered and Billy grunts in acknowledgment as he was shifting on the mattress, you hear the nightstand opening, hear him rooting around for something and then it snapping closed again. “Yeah, but don’t worry, after I break em then I got a treat for you Stu.”

Stu points to himself with a wide grin as he lets out a pleased, “Ooooh, for me? You shouldn’t have.”

Billy is back between your legs and the bright flash of colour in his hand catches your eyes before the item he got from the nightstand is between your thighs and the sound of consistent humming fills the room. As soon as candy coloured silicone touches your overly sensitive clit your head is thrown back against the pillows, body is immediately taut, legs jerking from the sharp rush of sensation and the bliss hits like a ton of bricks, weighing you down, rooting you to the spot. Stu laughs as he exclaims, “Jesus, you’ve done a number on em. So loud!”

Were you being? You hadn’t even realised you were moaning until Stu pointed it out, long and low, curses and panting breaths and unable to stay still. It took all of two minutes for you to approach the edge, and that is when you break, that is when you beg at last, “Please, please, please, fu-fuck, I can’t take it, I can’t, no more, please!”

Closer and closer still, he didn’t look like he was going to move away, was holding the vibe just right on you and your eyes stay locked on him, still begging, still pleading, completely and utterly desperate, “Need it so b-bad, need to cum, please, please, M’ sorry! Just let me finish, let me feel it, please Billy!”

He had this look on his face, as if he was considering and that shift in his eyes like he might pull away again it makes you more frantic as your legs begin shaking. Your fingers are tugging on the sheets, back about to arch your volume increases, as if begging louder would make him listen. You were two seconds from tipping over, “Fuck, fuck! Right there, gonna cum, yes-”

That is the moment he turns it off.

You nearly scream, the heels of your hands press to your eyes and you want to break something, you cannot believe how bad this is, how in need you are as you fight back tears, laying slack on the bed and leaking an obscene amount you bite out, voice breaking, “You fucking asshole!”

“Awe, touchy, touchy.” He admonishes you for your comment by laying a firm smack down between your legs, the hit lands on your extremely sensitive cunt and the tips of his fingers catch on your clit and your legs respond to the rush of pain with a twitch as you yelp. He then tells you, “No one likes a sore loser.”

Somehow you restrain yourself from flipping him off but just barely.

You feel him shift again on the bed and your hands pull away, looking to see him tossing the toy aside and stretching, looking again, very fucking smug. “Looks like we proved who has more will power because while you-” He gestures to your still trembling form, “-are a fucking wreck who is practically crying to cum, I’m gonna get up and go off to class totally fine.”

He does just that, gets up and he pats Stu on the shoulder, “And I’m tagging Stu in who hopefully is in the right mood to help you out.”

“Seriously man, this is a great gift, our favourite slut already on the brink of tears and dying to get off? You’re too good to me.” Stu sounded genuinely touched and it makes you want to roll your eyes, the guy will take any chance to ham up a moment for a joke and take great pleasure in it, king of improv thy name is Stu Macher.

“What can I say, I’m a real generous guy. Have fun, I’ll see you two kids later.” A kiss pressed to Stu’s cheek before he is leaving, you are focused now on the tall blonde, a lecherous and sadistic grin splitting his features as he sing-songs out, “Bye Billy.”

Your body still feels weak, limbs heavy but you try to move back on the bed, get away from him but he is too quick, hands lock on your ankles and he pulls you down the mattress, “Hey, hey there’s no getting away from this sweetheart. I got no plans this afternoon and nothing sounds as fun as fucking with you does.”

His hands ran up your legs as he pressed onwards, “Don’t look so scared, Billy was the mean one today so I’m gonna be nice, alright?”

Why didn’t you believe him?

Billy was in no rush to get home.

Class was fine, he got a late lunch, and he was out of the house for around two hours, he wondered if you were both still going at it until he got into the hallway outside your apartment and he could hear you.

He unlocked the door, meandered his way towards the bedroom to find the door was wide open and you still spread out on the sheets and Christ even with the gag Stu shoved in your mouth you were this loud?

Turns out Stu’s idea of being nice was making you cum over and over again until you literally couldn’t fucking think anymore, forget about speaking.

It was nice to begin, the first orgasm had you thanking him, babbling with the relief the washed over you as you came with his fingers buried in your cunt and his mouth on your neck. It was still good when he didn't stop, merely slowed as he worked you up to and through your second and even enjoyable when he first picked up the toy for the third and fourth he wrung out of you.

But those happened over an hour ago and before he even got his pants off.

Now you were sore, exhausted and thoroughly cummed out, dried tracks of tears down your cheeks and forced to just take it as Stu worked on getting his own hard earned pleasure.

“C’mon man, haven’t we tortured them enough today?” Billy asked, Stu’s head jerked up, a look over his shoulder, a smile spreading on his face as he sees the brunette now watching the scene making him slow his hips, “Almost done, swear to God.”

Billy scoffed, a roll of his eyes as he started to come into the room, “Yeah I take you swearing to God real seriously.”

“What should I swear on to get you to believe me?” Stu was back to it, sounding a little breathless, a harsh rolls of his hips, one of your legs propped up on his shoulder, his hand near your knee as he fucked into you and his other hand holding that same toy Billy was using earlier to your throbbing and over worked clit. “A stack of your favourite porn maybe?”

He snorts out a laugh, a harder slam of his hips into yours and another broken moan tears out that he talks over, “You think M’ that sex obsessed? That I can swear on porno like it’s the fuckin’ bible?”

“Think? I know.” Billy sat down on the edge of the bed, his hand reaches out, sweeping some hair off your sweaty forehead, “How many times did you make them cum?”

“I had em keep-ing count but once they, ugh, couldn’t form words anymore-” Stu’s sentence stops with a moan, your body was forced through another brutal orgasm and you cry into the gag, it barely felt good, mostly it hurt, just painful clenching and flexing of your cunt around his cock plunging in and out of your abused hole. His pace was uneven, thrusts sloppy, he was going to cum soon, thank God.

Billy nods as he watches your body shake through the feelings Stu was forcing onto it, your eyes unfocused, drool down your chin, throat ruined from all the incessant moaning and crying and screaming into the gag, “Yeah once they start sobbing like that all bets are off, bet they aren’t even listening to this right now.”

“Ohh, you gonna want a turn after I cum in em?” Stu asked and Billy said, “I mean I didn’t cum earlier did I?”

Seems the afternoon is far from over and one thought breaks through your overstimulated haze, you have got to stop making bets with them.

#RAAAAH IM GONNA COOOM RAAAAAAH #good shit op #bex swing and hits again wtf why is your overstim stuff so GOOOOD

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polyghostfacehours · 1 year

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"How It's Always Been." Ethan Landry History.

Ay, ayyyy! So uh. I am just so, so into Ethan Landry it is fucking stupid. So much that I am posting this thing, a history mock up for Ethan of what I think life is like, this is angsty, family drama heavy, character deep, dive-y and includes some murder too! Enjoy it! I am gonna do some smut of him soon but for now, remember this is just my thoughts and headcanons and opinions, so enjoy this!

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Rating. Explicit. Length. 2.5K. NOT READER INSERT. This is just about Ethan baby. Warnings: SCREAM 6 SPOILERS. Family Drama. Angst. Neglect. Abuse. Coercion. Complex Emotions. Mixed Morality. Murder. Blood. Gore. Ethan Is A Fucked Up Guy. And I Love Him For It.

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Life for Ethan has never, ever been easy, or if it ever was, it was before he was truly cognizant and able to remember properly. Something always felt off but it took him a long time to be able to pin it down, and when he did it was like a glass shattering moment. The pane fractures and splits, breaking apart with knowledge that once received cannot be unlearned. Unfixable, even if you were to shift through the broken shards and painstakingly glue it back together your hands would be left torn and bleeding and the cracks would still show clear as day through the smudges of crimson fingerprints.

The biggest injustice in Ethan’s life was the worst one a person can suffer, the cruelty of total indifference.

Have you ever experienced that? Being so totally and thoroughly ignored by everyone who is supposed to matter most? The people who share what is supposed to be a home with? Who birthed you into this world? Forced you the same way we all are into this shared experience we all call life, meant to play with the cards we are dealt. The middle of three and painfully ignored in all things in favour of his siblings. He can’t even be that mad at Quinn, to start anyway, it’s all about Richie, it’s always all about Richie.

He remembered the only good times and memories he had with his brother, when he wasn’t being a total fucking asshole, was when his needs and interests were being catered to and even then, not all the time. Filming his Stab tribute film was a complete mixed bag of some shockingly awesome moments mixed in with Richie having all the unwarranted, misplaced rage and self confidence found in a typical film bro who has watched one too many movies and swept one too many things Quinten Tarantino did under the rug. He was going on about how some aspects weren’t right, redoing takes over and over while waxing poetic about his fucking vision and berating his amateur friends and family who have never made a film or acted in any serious capacity before.

Ethan used to love his brother, used to fucking look up to the guy but as he aged, rose tinted glasses gave way to show the truth of the kind of person Richie really was as well as the realization that he was the reason that their parents didn’t give a fuck about him.

At first he tried not to blame him, Richie didn’t ask for all the attention but he sure as shit didn’t stop it either, and why would he when he is being so heavily catered to? His feelings about all of it were complex to say the least, going from real family caring about family, to disillusionment, to annoyance to anger, and eventually, outright hatred. He tried to get over it, tried to fix it and heal the hurt before it reached that level and the damage was permanent but Richie didn’t make it easy at all. From the lack of interest in Ethan’s life, hobbies, general well being, to the outright bullying he subjected him to at points. Richie is only a quarter of an inch taller than him but you’d think he was a full foot taller from how he acted so superior about the whole thing.

Ethan felt bad for a moment when he found out about Richie dying, because a small, sick part of him was fucking happy. Experiencing joy thinking that now with Richie gone he was the only son, that meant something, now his dad would pay attention, now he would care-

Except that isn’t the case at all. Even in death it’s still all about Richie.

At first it made sense, grief, mourning, sure, he was feeling it too to a degree, it was natural of course.

But then Gale Weathers fucking book came out.

Wayne is not the most reasonable man on the best of days, which a cop? Unstable? Unheard of. Then when the whole story came out and he read it, he was livid. Ethan swears some nights when he is lying awake he can still hear his father screaming, breaking things, tearing pages out of that damn book, yelling on and on about how it was- “Slander! That bitch can’t say these things about our boy! It isn’t true! He-he would never-”

Ethan isn’t exactly surprised. Richie was always really, really into not just the movies but the reality of it, the actual cases that book and film drew from. Wayne indulging in his habit by providing him with some ill gotten possessions of real life murder and crime scene evidence didn’t help either.

At one point, when he was still trying to fix this, trying to salvage what was left of their relationship as family, he used one of his few talents and escapes to entertain his brother. He has a love for art, drawing, and has filled sketchbooks over the years with his sketches and musings. Mostly on the nights he would be re-watching a movie he had already seen, picked apart and analysed for the fifth time at least, something to help divide his attention and occupy his hands the night gaming didn’t seem appealing.

He did a series of sketches in secret, he researched a lot to make them happen, and one night he showed Richie pencil outlines, red ink for blood, showing off various people from the cases, either dead or dying or whatever struck him as right. He thinks it might have been the time Richie was happiest with him,recalling the praise and excited ramblings, even if Richie didn’t know art, he gave it up for Ethan’s attention to detail and the visceral and violent nature he depicted in his work.

“The black and white with only the blood being coloured?! It’s so, what’s the right word-Striking! It’s so striking.”

Ethan tried to be happy too but it still felt hollow because it was all about what his brother wanted, when he tried to show him any non-Woodsboro or Stab related sketches he didn’t give them a second glance and certainly no compliment. Richie started making requests of even more intense extreme and grotesque nature, and then it became somewhat of an obligation as opposed to a project he was doing on his own time and for his own strange curiosity and enjoyment. Portraying these horrifying acts with starting realism was challenging and he had to admit that when he nailed the milky dead eyed look of a victim in a crime scene or the cross hatching was just perfect, he felt a sick and odd sense of…What was it? Pride? Amusement? Longing? It was a hard to define, outright miasma of emotions.

The drawings get less and less as time wears on and his brother stops asking as much.

His dad is fucking insane, so is his sister, they say grief makes people do crazy things, but plotting to frame someone for murder to clear your son’s name is up there as probably one of the most extreme reactions one can have. He didn’t even really want to be a part of it but his dad and sister just immediately started talking as if he would be down, not considering his feelings or that he might not want this but that was how it was in his family.

No one ever thought of what Ethan wanted, they just assumed he’d go with the flow, the conversation “convincing him” was short, like they expected him to give way with a stiff breeze. So he had no choice, he lied, he said, of course he wanted to help, that he felt everything that they did but he didn’t.

What he did feel was a misguided sense of hope, the idea that he might be able to have a real place in this family once everyone feels that they have avenged Richie. They can be a family again and now that he is the only son his dad will have to pay attention to him, and have to love him.

Everything they suggested he went along with, all the convoluted and complicated details he was here for it and ready to do whatever they asked.

Wrapping his head around the act of it took some doing. Some late nights sat up wondering if he could really do that, could take someone's life, and after much internal fighting he decided it was worth it. What else did he have outside of his family? He invested so much time, so much effort, he couldn’t give up now, if this works then they can be happy and he can have everything he ever wanted, have them care about and for him.

He wanted to show them as well as himself he could, if Richie could do it, so could he.

It was around this time he showed his dad the sketches he showed Richie before. It did what he hoped, showed him he was serious about this, it curried some favour, he felt good, a sense of pride as his dad complimented his work. When the sketches were framed and included in the collection he actually cried that night, when alone, that sense of hope grew.

The plan formed quickly, Wayne and Quinn were obsessed and entirely consumed with it. He learned fast that anything he had to contribute would be heavily scrutinised and most likely rejected, he was just expected to fill the role they wanted of him.

As the plan grew it became painfully apparent that there was a lot expected of him, not only did he have to fit into the plan, play his part in the killings, he had to insert himself into the friend group, be there to help lead them where they needed to be and throw off suspicion and more. Quinn slotted herself in as Sam and Terra’s roommate and all the while had been frothing up a subreddit and online community dedicated to proving Richie as innocent and Sam as the true villain. He watched a few times and was present when Quinn would be going on her posting sprees, VPNs, fake IP’s and dummy accounts where tons upon tons of things were posted to push the narrative in the direction she wanted. It was honestly kind of scary, the dedication, the meanness she displayed. Ethan was glad he wasn’t on Quinn’s shit list, having her being not just pissed but willing and ready to dedicate large swaths of her life and time to tearing your life apart is terrifying.

The lead up was a nerve wracking, what if he couldn’t worm his way in? What would he do then? It would cement him as a failure to his family. There was a lot of pressure to succeed but luckily, he and Chad got along really well.

Or at least that is what Chad and the group thought which is what was really important.

When it came down to it, after he was settled into the routine and knew the core group, it was time for the real plan to get going. The killings kicked off, he’d been amping himself up for it, trying to really get himself in the headspace to do it but something unexpected happened. Wearing the outfit and the mask, he chased down the victim that was supposed to be for practice, to make sure he could really do it when the time came, a totally nobody of a person, he managed to catch them with relative ease.

The knife slid into that first victim and when he stabbed them, he felt alive, more alive than he ever had and also he felt seen.

Even with the mask on, even though the person couldn’t see his face, their eyes were locked on him, centred in this moment, focused totally on him, the blade in his hand, driven into their stomach, it was shockingly intimate. A nervous lick of his lips behind the decaying mask, heavy breathing, his own chest heaving, an urge strikes, he follows the instinct he twists the knife. The body below him, because that is what it is, no longer a human, not a person with a life, thoughts, hopes or dreams, it is a body, one that is quickly dying, is going weak in the knees.

Shakey blood stained hands clutching weakly at him, trying to push him away but he had stolen all the breath from their lungs when he forced his way inside, had affected them. He had changed them, is in the process of destroying them, altering them irrevocably, for the worse. He feels powerful for the first time maybe ever. He pulls the knife out and the soon to be corpse gasps, mouth open, blood on their teeth they whimper pathetically, he drives the knife forward again and it becomes a blur after that. Stab, rip, tear, in and out, back and forth warm sprays of blood and sounds of pain and anguish, wetness soaks through his glove and the robe and nothing has felt better. Being inside someone, turns out, no matter the context of the penetration, is a sensation he had been craving down to the marrow in his bones and now he was woken up to it. Knew what he had been missing. He craves it again, he wants more.

The strength it takes to accomplish the goal, to leave the body on the wet pavement, totally slack, eyes dead, skin turning cold, leaves him panting, sweaty and satisfied, staring down at the mess of red and spilled intestines. It didn’t feel like enough. Thankfully this is only the first time, the first of many, there will be plenty more opportunities to play, to have fun, to practise and get better, to forge new memories.

Robe and mask in his bag, coat slipped on and zipped up to cover the blood that had soaked through the costume to his shirt, he leaves the body behind after dumping it into the dumpster. A trembling hand ran through heavy sweat soaked curls, he felt totally high on what he just did.

No one expects him, no one is aware of the brutality he is capable of because of all the sheer frustration he has bubbling underneath the surface. He is going to show everyone that he has worth, he can do this.

A chew of his bottom lip as he thinks and relives what he just experienced, vivid images and sound dancing through his mind as he is walking to the subway, thoughts of how this can give him everything he wanted.

It’s all so clear, no one can ignore him with a seven inch steel blade buried in their body. If this is all it took to get a little attention and recognition, then he would have started doing it sooner. Richie was a self centred idiot, but he was right about this at the very least, killing has undeniable appeal that he intended to fully lose himself in, and finally things will change for him.

#no no no but this? perfection #theorycrafting? for ethan?? zooweemama #the glass breaking visual im the beginning btw? actually poetry #the feeling if being ignored by not just ppl around you but your own family?#no wonder the lad is fucked up #the part where richie doesnt pay attention to any if ethans drawings unlessnits killing or stab related is something thats just canon now #it has to be its too perfect #ethan my love #love my eboy ghostface #good shit op #bex you need to make more ethan until the end of time kthx bye

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polyghostfacehours · 1 year

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What’s the matter Sidney? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.

SKEET ULRICH as Billy Loomis SCREAM (1996). Dir. Wes Craven

#RAAAAH HES SO HOT RAAAAAAH #want him carnally idc

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polyghostfacehours · 1 year

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What's your opinion on the boys love languages?

Stu is physical touch. I can see gift giving as well, but that's more a learned behaviour from absentee parents. Touching, hugs, kisses, subconsciously giving all that love and affection that he never received as a child. If you're sitting or standing close to Stu and he's not physically bothering you in some way then somethings wrong.

Receiving - quality time and if used sparingly, words of affirmation too.

Billy is quality time and gift giving. Not bought gifts, but random little things he's found that made him think of you. I always HC Billy as pretty sentimental.

Receiving - words of affirmation tell him he's a good boy and quality time.

Acts of service for both of them but that's definitely born from the selfishness and entitlement. It won't hit the same as spending time with them or telling them how much you care.

#spot on spot on spot on

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polyghostfacehours · 1 year

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Nevermind I got in lmao

The Scream panel is at full capacity Im gonna RAAAAHUGHDBXJBD

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polyghostfacehours · 1 year

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The Scream panel is at full capacity Im gonna RAAAAHUGHDBXJBD

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polyghostfacehours · 1 year

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At Megacon about to meet Skeet and Matt Im gonne s c r e a m

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polyghostfacehours · 1 year

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"Cleaved In Twain." Danny Jonson/DBD Ghostface X AFAB! Reader.

SO it was Lottie or the amazing @lucifers-horror-harem birthday yesterday! And I wrote her a lovely little Danny fic, she has a more personalized version but you lovely people get a reader insert version to enjoy! I hope you all love it! Let's get into it!

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Rating. Explicit. Length. 3.2K. Danny Johnson/DBD Ghostface X AFAB! Reader. No Pronouns Specified. Warnings: Obsessive Danny. Stalking. Breaking And Entering. Voyeurism. Chase. Predator/Prey. Degradation. Dirty Talk. Fucked Up Praise. Rope Play. Restrained Punishment. Spanking. Reader. ManHandling. Knife Play. Threats Of Harm. Actual Harm. Blood Play. Spanking. Punishment. Vaginal Fingering. Vaginal Sex. Unprotected Sex. Dub-Con. Threat Of Death. Actual Death. Dead Dove Do Not Eat.

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Love is a funny thing isn’t it?

There are movies and tv shows, books and podcasts, and tons and tons of songs, stories and more about the subject spanning back as long as human history has, and part of that is because trying to capture that feeling and articulate it to others is difficult as hell. The person to person experience of it is so varied, the differences can be vast or minute but all of them are there and valid, and yet, even with all these clearly laid out examples of what the conceptual idea of “love” is, he is damn sure he has never experienced it in any of the ways people have claimed that they have.

Danny doesn’t think he is capable of feeling it, not like he thinks he is missing out on anything, not when he has other things to fulfil him.

It isn’t like he doesn’t feel anything though, you make him feel some pretty big things, just ones that weren’t conventionally or typically appropriate. He got those intense feelings from a job well done, and from a victim well stalked and eventually skinned. He loved the thrill of being able to sneak around and view every sordid detail of a person’s life without them being the slightest bit aware of his existence. The getting to know you stage was always a total joy, finding all the little quirks that make a person unique, nailing down schedule, habits, before really going in, revealing himself and going in for the kill.

He has been watching you for, God, months. The window placement you have going on makes his job very easy.

You aren’t the only one he has been watching however, he normally has multiple irons in the fire while narrowing down who was worthy of his attention and who he really wanted to fuck with. You were interesting in how unassuming you were, the way you behaved at home, so quiet and looking so domestic, he couldn’t help how the thought got him so excited. He would get thoroughly amped up to choose a night, one that you would think is any other evening, and then come in and tear your whole life apart, end it, slash and cut until you are unrecognisable and that sad little life you called yours would be no more. Learning all he could about a life before he ended it made it all the sweeter.

Months of build up and tonight is the night, boots laced, hood up and knife sheathed and he was ready for an evening of fun ahead. He’d planned his way in over a month ago, found the easiest way one afternoon when you were out of the house.

It was late, after midnight, he was inside and ready as he will ever be to strike, he doesn’t think he is a nervous guy, a little too prepared and confident to have that kind of petty thing holding him back. Nerves are what the person on the end of the knife feels, not the one brandishing it.

Now, sometimes, no matter how much planning is put in, how much care is taken and how well he gets to know a victim, at times, they can be unpredictable.

He didn’t count on you getting up to fetch a glass of water from the kitchen and you and he staring at each other from across the hall. Him about to go to your bedroom and you standing just outside your door, hand still on the knob. You were just slightly shocked to see the strange man, over six feet tall and clad in black and leather and a mask and holy shit what were you going to do?

A beat and then you did something he wasn’t counting on tonight, you ran.

He wasn’t planning on a chase, he was planning on tying you to your bed while you were still passed out, and just ripping into you, cutting you from- Well it doesn’t matter because right now you were fucking booking it and he wasn’t going to let a small deviation like this stop him from being able to salvage his night and your murder.

As he started after you he thought it would be easy.

Ten minutes later when he still didn’t have a hold on you he thought otherwise, where the fuck did you learn to run like that? And that mouth of yours! You actually threw a few choice insults his way when you had locked yourself in the bathroom, he managed to get the door open but you still got around him, he wasn’t expecting any of this from meek little you and frankly it was pissing him off.

Well, not just pissing him off, you catching him so off guard, being so different than he was anticipating, than what he thought he knew you to be, it was, annoyingly hot.

He finally got you in the kitchen, cornered you, had you on the tiled floor on your back, his knees to your shoulders, holding you down firmly. Slight uptick in his breathing just as yours had from all the exertion, but now he’s got you.

Eyes locked up on that ghostly white mask and true while you felt fear, there was another feeling brewing inside of you.

The struggle in you stopped in short order when he forced his knees down harder and you groaned, your head tipping back against the floor and he said with a strong point, “You,-” A shake of his head with a breathy laugh he said your name and then, “- are a hard one to get a hold of.”

He sighed, “I wasn’t counting on that.”

A hard swallow and you asked, “How do you know my name?”

“That’s your biggest concern? Not how did the big scary man get into my house?” He asked and you had to give it up, he had a good fucking point. He spoke before you could, “I learned your name a while ago, been getting to know you, watching a while.”

“Watching?” You asked and he hummed, he sounded amused as he pulled out the coiled rope he brought,, “I like to watch, what can I say? I know what I like.”

A creepy, stalker with a voyuer kink, you really lucked out, didn’t you? When it rains it pours.

He reached down, began to secure and tie your hands together, movements practised and confident, “I had the whole thing figured out but then you just had to give me the run around. Do you know how fucking annoying that shit is?”

He tightened the ropes and you winced at the bite of them into your wrists, he didn’t stop, his tone was sharp, venom practically dripping from every syllable, “I didn’t think you had it in you! I thought I had you all fucking figured out but you managed to really surprise me. But, funny thing about me that you’d have no way of knowing-”

He leaned down and said the last part, his mask almost an inch away from your face, “-I don’t like surprises.”

He was angry, legitimately pissed off but still, very into this, he didn't want to let on to it, the last thing you needed was to know that small tidbit, he was hard as hell and as soon as you felt that it might just give it away. He pulled back, finished tying up your hands and he was still talking, “Who the fuck do you think you are that you think you can get away with acting like this? Fucking up MY night?”

“YOUR night?” You asked incredulously and he said, “Yes! My night! I’ve been planning this for you don’t even want to know how long and you are acting like a fucking brat and ruining this, your body, this body-”

He reached out, a leather glove clad hand reached out and gripped your throat, your whole body tensed under him, your breath caught and his other hand latched onto the blade’s handle. He unsheathed the blade and brought it down, “-is merely where I am putting my fucking knife, a vessel for my art and for my entertainment, it is not actually about you but what YOU, give to ME in this exchange.-” The knife was pressed right under your jaw as he squeezed your throat and he gritted out, “Stop being selfish and making your murder all about you.”

He stopped, he was so focused on how angry he was, on verbally berating you that he was only just now focusing on your expression and more importantly how it had shifted. You were flush, pupils dilated, panting and you were squirming, thighs rubbing together and it struck him, he tested it. He squeezed your throat and your eyes rolled back with a moan and he laughed, “Holy shit you are into this!”

A very nervous laugh spilled out, you rushed to defend yourself, “Ha! What? No! God, no-”

He pressed the blade closer and you whine pitifully and he accuses, “You are!” You try to protest more but he talked right over you, “Oh my fucking God, and here I thought I knew you! What else are you hiding from me, hmm? I’m gonna have to figure it out for myself because you are clearly no help.”

He moved off of you and he let go of your throat, he started to manhandle you and paw at your body to manoeuvre you, he knew it hurt, he wasn’t being anything near gentle but you were loving it, leaning closer. He said it in this fascinating combination of delighted and mocking, “Freak, you are a total fucking mess.”

He sighed and when he looked up, seeing something that gave him an idea, “You know, I’m still annoyed from before, I think you deserve some serious consequences.”

A questioning sound leaving you and his hand came down, a hard hit on your ass, a barely held back moan from you and he said, “Shut up, idiot.”

He got up and said firmly, “Stay slut.”

Like you could go anywhere even if you wanted to when he forced you face down ass up with your wrists tied, you were exhausted from the chase earlier too so even if you were unencumbered and in a better pose, any chance at escape was nil.

You heard him get something from off the kitchen counter and then he was back on his knees beside you, he put whatever he got down and then both hands were yanking your thin pyjama bottoms down over the curve of your ass. Another laugh rings out, his fingers hooked in your panties and he tugged, you feel his thumb rub over the crotch he had to practically peel off of you, “You’re fucking drenched-” He sing songed out the last part, reminding you again of the obvious, “-you love this.”

He was right. Your cheek was resting on your forearm, face burning with shame, you did fucking love this. How he chased you, talked to you, taunted you verbally and with his knife, spanking you, somehow he managed to tick all your boxes without even realising it at first. You feel the smooth leather of his glove on your ass after he let go of your panties, and another hard hit, another jolt of pain, “So! What else are you into?”

You keep your mouth shut and he tsk’d, “You could hardly shut up when I was chasing you and now you clam up. Shame. I guess I’ll have to figure it out all on my own…”

A pause, tension inside you builds and he says, “I did notice you seem to enjoy my knife, so I got to thinking, and it’s not always true but in the case I think that maybe bigger-”

You now know what he got from your counter. He stole the meat cleaver from your knife block and was now holding it in your line of vision, “-is better.”

A shiver ran through you before the whisper of, “Wha-what are you gonna do with that?”

He laughs, “You’ll find out soon enough.”

The cleaver is pulled back and true to his word you weren’t left in the dark for long about what he had planned with it. You feel a hand resting on your lower back, and then feel it, the large plane of ice cold steel meeting your bare ass cheek and you yelp in pain and shock. Another hit and then another and the pained sounds change, shift, and yep, you are into it and it is obvious and you are totally fucked. He is using the cleaver as a makeshift paddle to punish you, it was extremely painful, unrelenting, covered a ton of surface area in one hit, he was strong and could put a lot of power behind it too.

“You’re dripping down your thigh.” You feel him wipe some of it up, “Maybe you have more potential than I thought, disgusting thing that you are, I wonder what else you’d be into.”

Another hit and a much bigger shock of pain to your system, the edge caught you when he pulled back, he cut the back of your thigh, right before the meat of your ass started and you hissed, a suck of your teeth as tears welled up, voice wavering, “Did you cut me?”

You asked it without thinking and he laughed, “Oops.”

Another hit and you moaned, fingers curl, you wish you had something to hold onto and he didn’t fucking stop. The guy clearly had experience with knives, you are sure the cuts that he continues to give you are all on purpose, the pretending they were an accident was part of the bit.

Between your legs, the backs of your thighs were a total fucking wreck, slick and sweat and blood, you were crying into your forearm’s sleeve and he hadn’t stopped with the creative insults, and you were loving every fucked up second of it.

“How many hits was that?” He asked and you were still crying into damp fabric and he repeated himself, louder, “I asked you a question, whore.”

You were supposed to be counting this whole time? You sniffed, lifting your head slightly, “I-I wasn’t-I-”

“You didn’t keep count?” A hard hit, you cried out in pain and he admonished you further, “Fuck. You are totally useless.”

He brought the cleaver down, hard, right next to your head, he cracked the tile in the process, the sound and action made you jump. “Awe, scared?”

Not wanting to piss him off further, you say, “Yes.”

His response was only one word but it’s all he needed. “Good.”

Hands were back on you, “Look at all this.” His fingers trailed through the dripping blood he drew from you earlier, and then he managed to do something to surprise you, glove covered fingers dragged up through your folds and you gasped in shock. After so much pain the sudden rush of pleasure hit you like a ton of bricks and stole all the breath from your lungs.

A moan crosses your lips as his fingers dropped back down, he rubbed your clit, the slickness of your blood acting as lube as he touched, you leaned back, closer to him and he said, “You’d never guess how depraved you are just by looking at you.”

His digits slide back up, two fingers delve inside and he starts to finger your own blood into you, a loud moan tears out, your head falls forward as he hooks his fingers and finds that sweet spot inside that makes you gasp. He sounds very amused as he teases, “Too easy.”

And you feel him press his hips forward and you feel how hard he is, “You feel what you’re doing to me by acting like such a little nympho? Taking all this with an arch and a moan, you are so fucked-”

He continued to rock his fingers inside of you, focusing on that same spot and you are taken by all of this, head nearly spinning from how tonight has gone, the lingering pain, the searing pleasure, weak, you felt very weak. Fingers fucking in and out, his thumb stroking tight circles around your clit making your writhe.

His fingers leave you rather unceremoniously and you whine, another hit on your already bruised ass and you sob, he spits out, “Stop bitching.”

You hear his pants opening and then feel him press to you, hard and unbelievably hot. “Got any cute comments or complaints?”

A weak shake of your head and he asked, “You want it?”

You did, you nod with a bite of your bottom lip and he said, sickeningly saccharine, “Course you do.”

Thankfully he didn’t make you beg but he seemed pretty riled up too. His hips slam forward, making you take him all at once and you cry out against the floor, the sudden burn and stretch overtakes but there is no time to linger, his hips move, no time for you to adjust.

“Fuckkk-you act like such a slut but you don’t feel like one.” His hands gripping your hips, he started to really take, fucking into you quicker, harder. It’s disgusting, filthy, you feel like it too, he was your stalker, he broke in here to kill you for Christ’s sake and you are getting fucked dumb by him and you were…

Living for it, loving it, of course you were.

You have given up any pretence of pretending that you aren’t into it, not like you can hide it, he can feel you clenching on him, hear you moaning, feel you moving back onto him. “You are so stupid-”

You agree, unthinking, just concerned with the pleasure coursing through you, steadily building, the mix of it with the pain from every slam of his hips into your ass, aggravating the cuts, making them weep more blood was doing everything for you. “M’ so stupid-”

“You wanna know why?” He asked, another thrust punctuated with a moan and you bite, “Yea-yeah, God, yeah.”

“Because you think I’m still not gonna kill you-”

You gasp, dragged ever closer to the edge and a loud moan is pulled from him, followed by a laugh, “Fuck! You just clenched THAT hard from the threat of death. It’s got me wondering something-”

He reached out, he picked up the cleaver and leans over, his chest to your back, his hand comes around, he holds the cleaver to your throat and he says, “I wonder how hard you’d squeeze me if I cut your fucking throat right now.”

He pressed harder and you couldn't stop it, eyes squeezed shut, you can barely hear it through the haze as your orgasm overtook, positive it might be the last thing you ever do, him taking you cumming as consent, he asks the obvious, your body has already sealed your fate, “You wanna find out?”

Again, Danny doesn’t think love is for him, doesn’t think he can feel it. But swinging that cleaver with a little force, slashing into your throat, causing it to break open before you’ve come down from your orgasm. Blood pouring out over the blade, over his wrist and down onto the tile, your cunt still twitching and then seizing impossibly tight on his dick while he is buried balls deep, making him unable to pull out, is pretty fucking close to what he imagines love feels like for “normal people.”

Cumming in a victim at the moment of death is the ultimate high, he thinks he might just never top it. If you were still alive or conscious or able to hear him he’d thank you.

#everything about this #good shit op #Bex again with the big brain shit #using a cleaver as a paddle? genius pure genius #also lmao danny “stop making your murder about you 🙄” johnson

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polyghostfacehours · 1 year

Text

Fours a Franchise

Chapter 1

wordcount: 9,188

"What? No, I'm not doing it Rebecca! I told you already that I changed my mind-"

"Yn, it's your last stop for the year! Do you know how insightful and inspiring it will be for the survivor to go back to where it all happened? Think of the book sales!"

You paced your hotel room with your phone in hand. "I'm thinking of more than book sales, Rebecca…Like my sanity, my life, my-"

"Okay, okay." She interrupted you over the phone. "But as your publicist, your assistant, the head coach of your career AND your number one cheerleader-" You rolled your eyes as she continued. "I'm HIGHLY suggesting you do this book signing."

You blinked at the window. A huge high rise overlooking a bustling city, a far cry from your humble dwellings you were used to. "Are you suggesting this as my assistant or ordering me as my publicist?" You could hear the edge to your own voice as you felt your mouth twist into a frown.

"Hey, now. I work for you, remember? Bbuuttt, I know what sells. I mean…Let's face it, your um…Side novels were not what people wanted, sweetie. I've been right this far and look! Enjoying a cup of tea before Good Morning America last week! We even got you on Larry King, YN! Life is good so why mess it up over a town that has been a complete bore for over a decade?" You sighed and shifted your weight as she continued. "People love a survivor! They don't want to read a campy fantasy; they want reality. Out of Darkness. YN. The survivor. The fighter. 15 years of horror she faced. 18, 20, 23 were the tender ages she faced down homicidal maniacs some of which were betrayed friends. Trauma, guilt, hatred, fear and she faced it all-"

"Tone down the sales pitch. I'm aware of what I went through, just…Why this town? I've been traveling for weeks on end! Why do I have to go back THERE?"

"And you can take a break after this one!…Now, it doesn't look very convincing that you're 'Out of Darkness' if you're not willing to go back to the place that Darkness came from to sign some simple books, hmm? It could plummet book sales, appearances, and your followers if you tell them you refuse to go back to Woodsboro…Oh, that reminds me; I need to update your Facebook page for tomorrow."

Silence stretched on as you stared out your hotel's huge glass window at the world around you. Rebecca Walter's continued with what you could only describe as her customer service voice. Aka her 'We're done talking about this' voice. "...Okay! Your plane leaves at 6 tomorrow morning and I'll pick you up in the rental car to get to your hometown."

You exhaled in exasperation. "It's not really my hometown. I wasn't even there a year."

"Right, right. Anyways, get some beauty sleep and I'll call you in the morning. By-ee!" She sang out as she hung up.

You sighed deeply, staring out at the big city around you. It should be exciting, new, wonderful but all it did was make you feel small and out of place…

Focusing on your reflection staring back at you; You still looked the same that you did 10 years ago as far as aging went but your hair was more modernized for 2011 millennial input. Recommended by who else but Rebecca. You didn't hate it but you felt out of place sometimes. Same with the bandage style bodycon dresses or pleated skirts or peplum tops and not to mention the too high stiletto pumps or the clunky jewelry all in colors you didn't like. It wasn't you. No matter your original style, this style was just to appease the masses that you had your shit together.

You frowned at your own reflection. It had only been a little over a year ago that you were 'highly suggested' by your publicist to write 'Out of Darkness'. The title wasn't your idea, the photo on the front made you look like a damn Céline Dion CD cover and the lies that you had everything figured out enough to help others overcome trauma made you nauseated. Rehashing your worst times in life endlessly with a forced smile to a bunch of eager listeners with hopeful eyes in your direction that everything gets better…It really didn't; not for you. You just made the best of it. It felt like you were lying to them even if it was white lies to help others feel better.

You watched people walking on the busy street, the entire city lit up as you reminisced…You sometimes wondered if Sidney or Tatum had taken your place; what would they do? You knew Tatum would adore being a minor celebrity and probably get on some reality show or do interviews willingly to fit the lifestyle even more. You could hear her saying "If I'm gonna be traumatized; I'm gonna be traumatized with Gucci."

Sidney probably would have genuinely believed in what she was doing and would move on. She would feel a purpose to help and inspire others. You wanted to be like that, be like Sidney would be. Hell, even be like Tatum. But the fact was; you weren't Sidney or Tatum. Your mom wasn't murdered by those two. Even if Sid and Tat were your friends…You had to accept the fact that Stu was partially right all those years ago in his own fucked up way. It was horrible what happened to them and to you and you will never forgive Billy and Stu for what they had done but the resentment you had for them wasn't comparable to Sidney's hatred after she found out who had killed her mother and best friend. Her Mom being made into a massacre that poor Sidney and Neil had to find was enough to make her ready to bludgeon her boyfriend to death with a lamp had you not stopped her… Sidney WOULD feel a great sense of duty to her mom and herself to help others overcome these types of situations. You wanted to as well but something in you didn't feel it…Maybe it was guilt? Or maybe what you lacked in life because of it? Mark wasn't here and you never got to find out if it could've worked with him or anyone else for that matter, friends outside the Woodsboro Survivors were nonexistent, and you felt alone in all of this. The secret felt like the heaviest burden on your shoulders you just couldn't shake.

With a heavy sigh; You pulled the curtains on the window to stop the bright city lights from pouring in.

You walked to the bathroom to shower. Stripping off and looking at your body in the mirror. A scar on your left shoulder and your upper arm was the first to catch your gaze. One on your right forearm and one on your right hand where Neil stabbed you a decade ago. You went to make a fist and your right hand's middle finger and the ring finger trembled to form a fist fully. Not tightly closing as you clutched it in your other hand and looked away. Stepping into the hotel's shower and closing your eyes under the water. You let the water wash over your body as you thought of the last 10 years…How the hell did you end up here?

You faced the wall and leaned your head forward and let the water run down your back. Going from a normalish girl wearing what you wanted and no one knowing you as long as you didn't say your name; to trying to keep up with the kids and the Kardashians and EVERYONE recognizing you... From an isolated cabin to tv appearances nationwide.

'God, I can't believe Stu's ass hasn't barked up my tree after seeing me on TV….' You thought. Even if the malice you should have just wasn't there. You didn't even know if Stu or Billy were even alive or not.

You eventually turned off your water the more your mind wandered to places you didn't want to dwell on. Drying off before doing your nightly routine and getting ready for bed. You checked your phone to see no texts or missed calls from Randy or Dewey and your heart sank a little. Especially since you had to text or call them more often then they did you these days. You knew life was busy. God, did you ever know how busy life could be flying across the country routinely. However, you went from nightly calls from them both, to now, you were lucky to get a call once a month and even then that was usually phone tag with you calling them or them calling you. All of you are just too busy with life now.

You sat your phone down on the nightstand and laid your head down on your pillow.

'I guess that's a part of growing up…People drift. It's like the trauma was what held us together and the more they move on; the less we need each other.'

You felt your throat burn a little just thinking that thought before tightly closing your eyes.

'Or the less they need me like I do them…'

———————————–—–—––––––––––

It was almost afternoon as you sat in the rental car's passenger seat. A picture of your aging Cherri on your screen. Your childhood cat that lived with your family passed away a few years back but you still had Cherri. A trusted family member was happy to take your extremely elderly dog in while you traveled. You swore to yourself you'd spend her final year or two with her instead of traveling for this dumb book signing. This was the last stop and then you were having a little chat with Rebecca.

"Just text. I mean, you have a Droid. It's not 2005 anymore." Rebecca muttered as she eyed you.

"I know, I love this thing. But I still like calling." You admitted. It was SO much nicer than clicking each number anywhere from 2 to 4 times to get the letter you wanted. You hardly ever texted until you got your phone with an extended keyboard…You still kept the model Mark gave you as a keepsake at home. But a flip phone just wasn't going to cut it anymore.

"That's nothing, you'd die of overload with an Iphone."

You huffed while calling Randy. "Who wants a phone with a touch screen you have to protect? And the screen is tiny too. I say it's just a fad and they'll die out in a year or two…"

"So, who are you calling up?"

You faltered as you heard Randy's voicemail after multiple rings. "…Well that sucks."

"What? Something wrong?"

You frowned as you looked at your phone. "Well, I tried calling Randy but he didn't answer and I don't want to call his house phone and bother his family this early…. There's Dewey."

You pressed speed dial for him. Just to frown when it went straight to voicemail after a few rings as well. "...Which is apparently on duty." You drew out with a breath of air past your lips in exasperation. "So now, it's Gale."

"Who?"

"Gale Riley." You glanced at Rebecca. "Maiden name; Weathers."

Her face lit up. "Oohh, god yeah! She was such a boss back in the day! Kid me had, like, starry eyes seeing her on tv."

You smiled and held up a finger as Rebecca nodded while driving. Just when you saw the interstate sign pointing West to Woodsboro.

It rang one time before she picked up.

"Hey, Gale? Everything okay? Kind of picked up real quickly there." You mumbled.

"What? Oh yeah, just…Writing my next book! I'm so busy with it. Halfway there. And my phone was beside me so… "

"Oh, totally get it." You smiled to yourself knowing that the computer screen was blank and she was desperate for a distraction. You continued. "I tried calling Dewey but he didn't answer."

"Oh, yeah…Sheriff Dewey is a very busy man." She muttered.

"Yeah. So, if he panics later just let him know I was just reminding him I'm visiting Woodsboro today."

"Today?"

"Book Signing. " You felt uneasy as the 'Welcome to Woodsboro' sign came into view. "I'll be doing the signing at noon and was wondering if I could visit? I haven't even seen your place yet. It's only been what? 9 years of owning it?"

Gale released an amused huff on the other line. "Yeah, something like that. I'll text you the address."

"Thanks. And could I get Randy too? You know he only brings the family my way. I know it a little but I need a refresher because it's just a street away from his parents but I swear to god all those houses look alike."

"Yeah, I'll send it your way…Listen, it's fine if you're too busy. So am I, obviously, but maybe we could get coffee? I've been dying to shit talk to somebody about this one pushy tart deputy at Dewey's work that keeps buttering him up with treats. Guess what? They taste like cardboard…" She was silent a moment before saying. "...Well…Unless you're running out of here as soon as you can. Been a long time since you stepped foot in this town."

You sighed as houses came into view. "...No, I'm staying at least till the first kill." You deadpanned, no real humor in your voice.

"Yeah right. I'll see you later. Dewey's going to be over the moon when he finds out his surrogate sister's in town."

You didn't know if that was sarcasm or genuine. You and Gale were not best friends by a long shot. Not even good friends. Honestly, sometimes you fight like two divorced parents trying to play nice while sharing custody of the kid aka Dewey. And yet, sometimes you both were the only company you had these days.

You listened to Rebecca talking aimlessly about nothing in particular as she drove. You sat in the passenger seat and suddenly it was like you were a 17 year old girl again…

The memory played out in your head. Your family tried engaging with you as you sat there solemnly in the backseat. Torn up at leaving your old life behind for this place. You could just reimagine the view from the back window; looking at the town you only visited for your grandparents every so often. You dreaded being at a new school at the end of your Junior year. But your grandparent had a health scare and it was closer to your parent's work so you really had no choice in the matter when your folks decided to move there. Any other issues in life pertaining to you or your parents lives just sealed the deal for them even more.

You shook your head slightly with a forlorn expression when you both passed the school…Still the same after 15 years. In your mind's eyes, you could picture Tatum laughing and walking beside Sidney out of the bustling building. You closed your eyes a moment, imagining them waving at you as you passed by before opening them again. An ache in your chest slowly formed…You truthfully hadn't thought of your old friends in a decent amount of time but coming back here just seemed to resurface old wounds. It was so easy to be back in time to 1996. Preferably the Summer before your senior year. You were young and carefree as any teen could try to be. James being a new boyfriend that wasn't abusive yet. Sidney and Billy seemed in love and Tatum was freshly dating Stu. Randy making you laugh or roll your eyes at him at the video store, chilling with Tatum and Sidney at their houses or yours. Watching movies with Stu and Billy who at the time seemed like normal guys that genuinely loved their girlfriends and were just good friends with you…

You glanced at the car's mirror. Your sad face staring back at you and suddenly reality was crashing into you that most of your memories of that group weren't as real as you wanted them to be as far as Billy and Stu were involved as well as what followed just a few short months later. From James, to the strain on your group's friendships, to the very obvious reason why the tension was happening being revealed at the party that night…Those moments of naive bliss you had prior you would never, ever get back.

Rebecca rambled while you were in your own world. "So anyways, I told him he's a complete tool. Because, come on. How can this not be a good sales pitch, am I right?...YN? Hellooo?"

You jolted slightly as you realized she was directly talking to you and not herself. "Huh? Sorry, just…Getting lost in thought. I haven't been here in 15 years. I literally moved away not even 2 weeks after…Well…You know what happened."

"Okay, speaking of which. I know your character in Stab was with them-"

"Right."

"And you were not, based on your court case I read about."

"Yes."

"Sooo…"

"Yes?" You asked with a raised brow.

"Okay, don't take this the wrong way but both of those guys were kind of hot for freaking seniors. I'm not a pedo or cradle robber, I'm just saying! I mean, if I had two guys that cute that were obsessed with me in high school? Murderers or not, I'd think about it…So, did you ever think they were attractive? Ever?"

You felt the silence in the car. You wanted to be normal. To just admit that yes, they were attractive, their shitty personalities and selfish choices were what sucked but you were attracted to them. Who wasn't at the time? They were two of the most popular and arguably better looking guys in school that hung out with you. You got hateful looks your way just as much as Sidney and Tatum did. It's why the rumors about you were so easily spread. One day when you were talking to Stu in the hallway, him leaning over you with his arm on the locker as you tried to move away from him flirting because he was just recently dating Tatum but you know Casey saw it. Her locker was just down the hall. You were sure even if she broke up with him; seeing him so hyper fixated on you instead of still being hung up on her bruised her ego enough to spread the nasty rumors about you. James was threatened by them as well for the same reason…They were sought after in Woodsboro. So finding out they both were secretly in love with you had you so shocked it ALMOST rivaled the shock of them being the Woodsboro killers…Almost. You wanted so badly to just admit it and have girl talk you didn't get with anyone else.…But considering your trial in the past and the people online trying to dig up your case again; you trusted no one with that info. Especially a fame mongerer like Rebecca.

"They were alright looking, I guess. " You lied with a nonchalant shrug and redirected it. "Nothing to excuse them from being monsters."

Rebecca scoffed. "Well duh, they were! Please, they may have not been the nicest but that Billy looked like Johnny Depp and the other guy-"

"Stu." You knew he'd just about shove Rebecca out of the moving car if he was here.

"- He wasn't bad looking either, I guess. Not my type but apparently he dated some of the most popular girls of Woodsboro High so he had something going for him."

"Yeah, he was charming and popular and used it to manipulate people."

"But you seriously didn't want them at all before the murders? You had to have at least looked or thought about it. I mean, these two guys were obsessed-"

"With getting their way no matter what." You interrupted her. "Besides, they were dating my best friends and I had a boyfriend at the time. I had no interest in them.

She gave you a once over from her seat. Looking like she wanted to say something before her mouth dropped. She pulled up to the bookstore and your heart sank.

"Oh crap." Rebecca grumbled. Pulling in as you froze in your seat

A handful of people with signs screaming at you with signs. Your picture is marked out on a few or 'guilty' written in bold red letters designed to look like blood. You even saw a few of Tatum, Sidney, Casey or Steven with their names and the word 'justice' written on them.

"Okay, just hold your head high and ignore them…You'd think the least they could do is have police here. What else do these small town feds have to do but shovel donuts in their mouths and bust some crack heads here and there?" She grumbled while undoing her belt.

You swallowed, slightly taken aback yourself that Dewey wouldn't be here to rally them away. Looking up to see rows and rows of Ghostfaces on the pole lights near the store. "I'd say damn kids with that-" You pointed, letting your finger fall as you gave a wary look to the small angry crowd. "But…The adults are acting kind of ridiculous too…Isn't this welcoming." You sarcastically mumbled, feeling your anxiety creeping in.

Rebecca shoved her door open. "Screw this, I am NOT having these frigging freeloaders hogging the media attention I-…We worked for!" She slammed her door shut as you gave a shaky sigh.

Rebecca made a wide gesture to the angry crowd trying to boycott your book and you. Still convinced in the conspiracy theory that you actively helped Billy and Stu and you just got away with murder and were now profiting off of it.

You were scared of crowds like this just as much as Ghostface. Especially after you almost died from a crazed conspiracy nut seeking 'justice' more than a decade ago. Despite that, you sucked in a breath and got out of the car.

Rebecca grabbed you and led you by the shoulder as you just prayed no one had a gun.

You heard "Murderer", "We don't want you here", "Leave Woodsboro" as you walked by the 8 to 10 people protesting. Rebecca said a nasty remark back as you said nothing. Numb to it at this point as your assistant slammed the door shut.

"I'm gonna rip the owner a new ass for not handling that. Wasn't me threatening his cat over your set up not enough?!" She marched away as you saw the people still holding up signs, chanting at your picture on the store window. Rebecca slammed a door to a backroom looking for the owner.

You ran a hand over your face, already eager to get the hell out of this town. It wasn't like you didn't have naysayers in other towns but this one felt different…It felt worse.

An orange cat eyed you curiously from the desk across the room. Leisurely lounging and looking rather plump and content with itself but watching your every move. You walked over to pet it but it jumped off the desk and ran behind a bookshelf.

'You too, huh?' You thought before you went over and sank into a seat at the table you'd have your books signed at. Staring down at yourself on the cover. You wanted to go home already. YOUR home. Away from people and bullshit like this. Be with your very small inner circle, your aging dog, your small comforts. Anything but this.

Your thoughts were interrupted as a man cleared his throat and you flinched in response. Fearful a protestor got in and could be holding a gun to your head for all you know.

"YN, I'm such a big fan...So hey, can I get some special friends discount or something? By that, I mean, free?"

You faltered, slowly looking up to see a man's belt and white button down shirt…Your eyes roamed higher to see a green sweater over top of it near your white table in front of you. Your eyes traveled more as a relieved smile slowly stretched over your face.

"Ray."

He grinned down at you. A light stubble on his filled out face. A few pounds gained since you were in your early 20's but still some muscle there too. You were sure he still worked out even after physical therapy just not as much with his busy schedule. His hair was in the same volumized, fluffy swept back style he had in Hollywood, just shorter or thinner with age.

He grinned as you stood up. Not having seen him face to face for almost a year as awful as it sounded.

Randy remarked. "I never thought I'd see you back in this shithole. I mean, you're star status now."

You gave a chuckle and walked over to hug him. He hugged you back, holding onto you for a few moments before you gently pulled away a bit. "Yeah, whether I like it or not." You replied unable to help looking at the crowd and he put a hand on your shoulder to look back at him instead.

"Hey, screw them. You've came a long way and they don't know what the fuck their even yelling about…" His eyes trailed down with raised brows as he fully pulled away. "And then there's…You." He huffed with a bemused smirk. "Wow, you in heels is an eerie sight from your usual woman of the woods get up."

"Oh, shut up."

"No, seriously. Did you raid Gale Weathers closet?"

"Ugh, do not compare me to Gale. " You grumbled with a huff.

"Or what? You can't give me pain anymore, Mistress. My wife will have a say in that." He showed his wedding band for emphasis.

You rolled your eyes playfully. "I think if you annoy her as much as you annoyed me in the past; she'll make the exception."

"Not if you're dressed like your going to Fashion Week, she won't. She wouldn't even recognize you if she walked by the window."

You shoved away from him lightly. "Oh God, stop. Seriously, it's just heels…Your just mad it makes me taller-"

You went to measure your height with a devious grin, doing the same thing you did at college before that party until he smacked your hand away with a small puff of air escaping past his lips.

He took you in again, his smile fading before shaking his head slightly with a smile. "Seriously though, you look good! Really! It's just so…So-"

"Different?" You asked with a raise of your brow before your face fell ever so slightly. "Yeah. It's not exactly what I wear on the regular…But…I'm a product and the packaging is what sells. " You gave with a bitter smirk.

His mouth parted as he stared at you. The teasing gone from his face as looked at you. "...Is…Is everything okay? Are you happy with all of this?" He gestured to the table with all the copies of your books.

You almost told him the truth but quickly forced a smile and shook your head. "No, I'm okay. I'm just…I'm grateful. I mean, I'm privileged with the opportunities given to me from very less than ideal circumstances. I guess…Just wish I could wear a comfortable dress boot with the leaves turning soon." You lost your smile to ask him the same question. "And you? Are you happy with everything?...It's been awhile since we talked. Like, really 'talked' talked face to face."

He faltered as well before giving a 'pssh' noise between his lips and an outrageous smile. "Of course! I have a beautiful wife that is way out of my league but still stuck it out with me. Two wonderful kids that are everything to me. A house right here in my hometown, I can walk and move like I was never in a coma from being stabbed over a dozen times, I'm freaking alive for god sakes!…No…Life threatening Incidents in a decade. Life is good!"

You didn't believe that as he folded his arms and closed himself off as he spoke to you. Your brows rose slightly as you softly asked. "Well…And the video store? Everything okay?"

"Yeah! Y-Yeah so great that I now have two businesses in town."

"Really? Which one?"

He gave a big gesture to the bookstore with a tight smile.

You gawked at him. "...This? YOU'RE the bookstore owner Rebecca talked to earlier?!"

"Yep. She is a very unpleasant woman, by the way."

Your face scrunched as it dawned on you. "Wait, why didn't you tell me you owned the store I was scheduled at? Why didn't you tell me about the bookstore in general??"

He sighed heavily. "I was going to but I've been so busy lately. Seriously, I hope my kids remember I'm their Dad at this point." He faltered before his shoulders sagged. "And…I guess I just didn't exactly want to brag I own not one but TWO pieces of shit businesses now. Thank God for Karla's job at the bank."

"What? Ray, is everything okay financially? Are you and Karla okay?...I know life got away from us but you know you can still tell me anything…Right?"

Randy stared with a harsh swallow and frown. A protester got extra loud outside enough to break the silence as Randy rolled his eyes, walked to the store's window, and jerked down a curtain to hide you both from view. He continued as he walked back towards you, arms falling at his sides. "We're okay but it's not…What I want for my family…I know you called and I missed it and I apologize for that. I almost called you back but I just decided I wanted to surprise you instead. I mean, you certainly surprised me with your Assistant putting your face on my store window!…Those assholes out there were not a part of the surprise, obviously. They just arrived 10 minutes ago... I'm sorry, I tried to threaten them with the police but they're not leaving until police arrive and APPARENTLY Woodsboro's finest have more important matters to attend to because dispatch will send an officer when they're 'available'." He rolled his eyes. "Thank fucking god no ones dying her or anything."

You sighed. "I'm sure Dewey has a good reason for the lack of officers available. He's worried about my safety too."

Randy nodded. "Yeah, I know…It's just we barely talk as is and then your welcome wagon is that? He couldn't have made sure to be here or send a deputy no matter what?"

"Don't worry about it. I've had worse…But back to you. If you're struggling then why do you own this too? What about the video store?"

"It's…Tanking." He sighed out with a frown as he looked to the ground in shame. "I just came to look over this place instead of my employee Jenny because you were in town…AND she didn't show up to work today or call in. It's weird for her though; she's usually a pretty good employee…. But trust me, any other time, I'd love to be surrounded by films…People just don't rent movies anymore; not like they used to. When I bought the store from my older than dirt boss years back it was like a dream come true. 'Yes! I have something to rely on instead of some pencil pusher job for a boss somewhere!'." He mimicked excitement before dropping the act and slumping his posture. "… But I'm starting to think being my own boss isn't worth the hassle."

"Was it really doing that bad?" You asked with a grimace. You looked around and saw Rebecca outside through a back window, stalking the yard. Still looking for Randy. Having gone out a back door, apparently.

Randy continued with a frown. "Yeah. The video store really did feel like something and…It's just fading to nothing. I mean, even Blockbusters are shutting down so how does the little man stand a chance? People are relying on that Netflix thing more and more every year. And this place feels like I invested in a steaming pile of crap too. I'm only supplying mostly romances to middle aged suburban housewives wanting to spice up their marriage. Seriously, none of these kids pick up Stephan King anymore. It's fucking sad."

"Be honest. Did you read when you were a teen?"

"ACTUALLY, I did." He gave with his arms folded and a smug look.

"Oh yeah? Comics don't count."

"I'm telling you, I read! I was wise beyond my years."

You released a huff of laughter at that. "AND reading for school projects doesn't count…Or Stephen King and Clive Barker's 3 books circulating in the library."

He opened his mouth then closed it. "Ookkay, maybe I wasn't the biggest bookworm compared to my love for cinema but I did read. These kids today don't read books at all! I swear to god, if it's not on their phones or tablet; they don't look at it."

You shrugged. "I think they read blogs and …Fanfiction online?" You drew out. Unsure if that was even the right term.

Randy raised a brow "What the hell is that?"

You gave an exaggerated shrug. "I don't know, I just know it wasn't popular when I was their age. I heard Rebecca talking about it with a friend. Something about someone made an erotic fanfiction of Twilight and Rebecca was trying to get a hold of the writer to get her to make a bdsm book about it next year?? I have no idea what the two have in common but I kind of want to look it up later out of morbid curiosity."

"Weird. What? Is Bella gonna finally punish Edward for being a stalker? Or is a threesome finally gonna happen-"

You cut him off, silently kicking yourself for bringing it up. "Randy, please. No Twilight rants. I KNOW you hate it."

"It SUCKS, Yn. It's just some Mormon women's secret wet dream disguised as her inserting herself as Bella, I mean, what the fuck does a 100 something year old man want to do with a teenager anyways? What the hell could he have in common with a kid that doesn't even know what Zima is? And why is he so emotionally constipated with the personality of a rock? Isn't he trying to blend in with his alabaster marble like skin and bright fucking golden eyes? Furthermore, why is he at highschool? People graduate early, who the ever loving hell wants to be in high school forever? Worst years of my life aside from Middle school. And don't even get me started on the fucking sparkles and no drinking human blood!" He ranted a mile a minute.

You groaned softly to yourself and hung your head. "Oh god..."

"Salem's Lot was a classic, Fright Night a masterpiece of 80s vampirism, The Lost Boys is still enjoyable to this day, John Carpenter's Vampires was kick ass, Near Dark which no one mentions despite it being one of the first western vampire films and having 3 great actors from Aliens! Alien was tremendously better, sequels suck, but that's besides the point!…And most of all, Dracula.. Don't even have to elaborate on that one. Okay, they were all vampire movies. Cold, undead, fanged up assholes that loved being a vampire. They LOVED drinking blood! What the fuck is the point-"

"RANDY." You snapped before giving him a look. "I know, okay, I know!…Besides, why do you know so much about it if you hate it?"

He wore a scowl on his face and looked away. "Because Karla's made me take her to see all 3 movies so far and guess what we're seeing this November?"

You raised your brows with an amused smirk. "...Twilight Breaking Dawn?-"

"Fucking Twilight Breaking Dawn" He answered before you could even get it out.

You rolled your eyes playfully. "After all the cheap horror movies you probably have had her watch; it's the least you could do."

"Yeah, yeah." He sighed out.

"THERE YOU ARE!" You both flinched at Rebecca's voice. "What half brained, idotic, little man are you that you can't do one simple thing; KEEP. THE POSITIVE SHINE. ON. YN. Do I gotta skin that cat or what?-"

Randy held up his hands. "It's not even my cat, Lady! He just waltzed in one day and never left."

You raised a brow. "So it IS your cat then?"

Rebecca went to yell again and you held up a hand. "Rebecca! This is Randy!...Randy Meeks. The other Woodsboro survivor and my friend! Turns out, he's the owner."

Randy gave her a sarcastic smile and wave as she faltered.

"...Oh." She straightened herself up. "Well then, you can still do something about that outside. Where are the cops?" She pointed to the protesters.

"I already called the cops and they're busy. What more do you want?"

"BUSY?" She snapped before adjusting herself with a glare while marching out. "Want something done right…" She slammed the door as you both grimaced.

Randy gave you a sideways glance. "I'd lecture her for slamming my door but I'm kind of afraid to." He looked at you. "Uh…Should we go help her? I mean, I'm the man here and she's just a tiny thing-"

You chuckled sarcastically as he gave an offended look your way. "What? Okay, What YN?"

"Sorry but you don't know Rebecca. She's like a fake splenda version of Gale; she'll be fine." You gestured to the door. "But I mean, go out there if you want. Since you're the man here and all."

He looked out the door of his shop and grimaced slightly. "Uhh…Nah. No, you need someone to protect you here more than Gale Jr. out there."

You tilted your head with a smirk. "Oh, that's good. I feel so much safer with someone to protect me. My hand that was stabbed from fighting a man twice your size gives me trouble making a proper fist. And I get dizzy sometimes after another man punched me in the mouth and smashed my head into a bar. So, I'm so glad THE MAN is here to save me."

Randy gave you a deadpan expression. "Bitch please, I was stabbed 14 times."

"And yet…What's your kill count? And who saved your ass multiple times? And remind me how many times you were the main target?"

He rolled his eyes with a sigh. "I fucking held my own, smartass."

" I know, just screwing with you for old time sake. Don't be mad, I know if a protester came in you'd be the first one to hit them." You chuckled and shook your head as you saw a bin of books on a nearby table. You picked one up and showed him. "We got at least 20 minutes till the book signing…What are these?"

He huffed with folded arms but walked over to join you. "Those? Oh, books that aren't doing so hot. There from some lesser known authors that apparently aren't exactly best sellers."

"Yet. It just takes one." You gave and Randy nodded. You picked a few. "Juliette Morris…J.R. Whitney…Summer Raine. Never heard of them." You picked one up and eyed the dark cover. "Robert Gray." You mumbled.

Randy gently took it from you to examine it. "Yeah, I was eyeing that one. Seems like a psychological thriller. Not my type of horror."

You rolled your eyes. "I know, no blood or boobs, huh?"

He put the book down. "I take offense to that. I'll have you know, I enjoy plot."

"Uh huh. The plot of a big set of lungs running from some guy in a mask?"

"Uh those are Classics; show some respect! "

"I don't have to respect shit when I lived through it."

"Fair enough. But besides that, you know I actually do like plot to my movies. I'm not Stu-" He faltered. Both of you paused as he said it. You turned around and he shook his head with a bewildered expression. "Jesus, where'd that come from?"

You stared a moment too, a bit of fear ran through you at the Randy even saying his name before you sighed with a shrug and a tight smile. "Well um…Bound to happen eventually, I guess. Me being back here, talking about horror movies with you like we were in high school again…It feels like we're at the video store and Stu's gonna come by any minute knocking over the vhs tapes just to irritate you while sticking his tongue out at me."

He gave a look of disgust, a bit of uneasiness in his expression. "Can we please not talk about that reject? Slip of the tongue and it won't happen again."

You parted your lips to say something but it died in your throat as you curtly nodded in response, looking back down at the book bin before he took it for you.

"Anyways, I better let you get set up. People should start pouring in within the next 20 minutes. Let me just put these in the horror section. Yell if you need me." He gave a quick smile to you before walking away.

You sighed and nodded to yourself. "Can do."

—————————————————

The protestors died out. Well, some stayed but a few left after Gale saw some woman threaten to release personal info after she found out one's identity through a private facebook account that still had their pfp as their face and full name. Then, she threatened to post them on twitter. A few promptly left but just as many stayed. Holding up the signs that Gale stared at; trying to chant over what you had to say.

Gale eased back from the small crowd gathered inside; eyeing you talking to everyone. A protester tried going in with a sign but she stopped him. "Lloyd, don't you have anything better to do? What would your kids think?"

He glared at Gale, sign still raised with your picture marked out in red. "They'd be proud knowing I'm defending their cousin Steve's death from the likes of her." He pointed, raising his voice as you kept talking and tried to ignore it.

"Stu and Billy did that and you know it. She was proven innocent." Gale mumbled. "I have the lawsuit and half a million dollars lose to prove it." She mumbled the last part.

"And you proved yourself a coward too. Judge could have been paid off for all we know. You started this, you brought it to everyone's attention, you showed the facts… Just to be a quitter. Out of my way-"

Gale jutted a hand out as he went to march past her. "I wouldn't do that, Lloyd. This is private property owned by my dear friend Mr. Meeks. You step one more inch of your fat foot in here and my husband the goddamn Sheriff will charge you. You want to yell out there like an idiot that's your American right but don't bring it in here." Gale hissed out. "Now get your fat drunken ass out of here or maybe that lawn that was wrecked coincidently after that bar fight you had with the homeowner will be coincidently reopened?…Everyone has cameras now. I'm sure if I used my old reporting skills; I could find out just who did that…Got it?"

The man huffed, looking at her in disgust. "One day, your mouth is going to get you in trouble." He pointed at her in a warning as he walked backwards.

"It already has." She muttered back. Focusing back on you as you seemed to handle the protestors with more restraint than she ever gave you credit for. Unbeknownst to you that she was even here let alone defending you from people like Lloyd.

She just…Stared a moment. Taking you in. It was crazy to her.

'How did you go from a kid that was shaking over your own shadow to a professional woman selling these schmucks books like they were lined with Jesus's freaking toilet paper?' She thought.

She huffed softly at the thought, tilting her head to watch you. She swallowed as she saw you engaging with everyone in the middle of Randy's newfound shop she knew wouldn't make it, but then again, she didn't think you would either.

She couldn't help feeling…Cast out. A frown on her face. Once youthful skin now bore thin lines near her mouth and eyes. Seeing you up there in your prime, a professional dress and high heels on that looked like something she might have worn, a crowd eager to hear from you and your book…Meanwhile, she couldn't seem to even write her own. No one stopped her on the street anymore, no autographs or photo ops…She closed her eyes a second as she listened to you…You were all grown up now…She was aging too. A part of her could easily see a younger version of herself in you as you gave your speech…She hated it.

She still had her doubts about Tim and James not being Billy and Stu but after a decade of peace; she'd be an obsessed fool to harp on it now. Dewey was Sheriff of Woodsboro like he always wanted, Randy had a happy family and owned a few businesses in town, you were a national treasure…It seemed like everyone was doing something but her. She was so lonely she even was looking forward to coffee with you; coming clear down here just to see you. That's just how pathetic it felt that she was having coffee with the girl that technically ruined her career and yet she had no one else…

You finished talking, Rebecca talking for you to have people buy book copies of the New York Times Best Seller while they lasted.

You walked away before your smile fell, eyes landing on Gale. Gale stepped away from the entrance and gave a curt smile as you forced one on yourself.

"Gale…I'm glad you came." You said. Not very warm but not outright hateful either. Both of you hadn't seen each other in a long while. You never were very close…A punch in the face at Windsor followed by a lawsuit that made headlines didn't exactly scream 'besties'.

Gale slinked over, taking her time to take you in before forcing out. "Congratulations, YN." Her cool eyes gazed at the table. "I haven't had a chance to read it yet but…" She trailed off. It was a lie. She had read it but something in her didn't want to admit it.

"Oh, well, you can have a copy or I can send you one if we sell out." You replied as Gale gave you a humorless smile at the comment. So similar to what she had told Sidney Prescott 15 years ago outside the police station.

You gave an awkward shuffle, raising your arms then lowering and raising before stepping forward. Gale was never one for hugs and she knew you didn't exactly want to hug her either. It was all a big, curt, polite show in Gale's eyes that she played along with. For Dewey, for Randy…Even for you. She wanted to hate you but you made it hard proving her wrong over and over. She surmised eating crow over and over makes you more…Tolerant of the person feeding it to you.

You both pulled away with forced smiles as quickly as you hugged. Gale saw Randy standing in the background watching. Observing your exchange as Gale forced a smile his way over your shoulder. He gave a nod with a small polite smile as well.

You completely stepped away with a genuine happy expression as you exclaimed. "Dewey!" You quickly rushed over to hug him tightly. Dewey pulled away sooner than he normally would. Gale frowned at her husband. After all, he hadn't seen you in so long so why not savor the moment?

"Hey YN. Gale you made it. Good." He breathlessly gave.

He seemed frazzled as Gale eyed her husband.

You spoke up. "Dewey, I tried to call you."

"And I tried to call too, SHERIFF!" Randy chimed in, standing next to you. "Those protestors are probably running for the hills now with your cop car about..." He checked his watch. "...45 minutes later."

Dewey gave a remorseful grimace. "Oh, God. Are you okay?" You nodded before he continued. "Do you recognize any of them?"

Randy and Gale exchanged glances as Randy nodded and Gale replied. "Yeah, a few. Lloyd Oarth was one of them."

"Good, good...I'm sorry. Something really important came up…I gotta do something here." He took off his hat and anxiously ran a hand over his hair.

Gale raised a brow. "Dewey, what's wrong?"

"Just- YN, I need to do this here…I am really sorry." He moved you out of the way and addressed the room right as Judy came barreling in. Police cars speeding down the block to get to the bookstore. A few protestors on the sidewalk scattered but police instantly got out of their cars and forced them to stay. Gale could hear that much and see it from the window.

Meanwhile, Dewey addressed the room. "Excuse me. This will only take a minute! I need you all to stay where you are and remain silent."

A woman went to leave and Judy pushed her back inside. "Nobody leaves. You heard the Sheriff. Thank you." Even her voice had Gale side eyeing her.

Gale watched some mouthy woman with brown hair and a blue shirt tell her husband. "Can't this wait, Barney Fife? I'm running an event here!" She guessed the event runner was your assistant.

Gale felt a tinge of guilt having said the same thing about him in her book years and years ago. It was pushed aside as she listened to Dewey and more cops came in. Randy put a hand on you as he pulled you towards him.

"Ma'am, this is a police event now." Dewey replied back.

Gale came to Dewey, blinking repeatedly and whispering to him. "WHAT is going on??"

All before Judy stepped in between them to tell Gale. "Gale, this is police business. If you could just let us handle it."

Gale instantly felt that familiar rage filling her at this woman having the audacity to use her little badge as leverage to disrespect her in front of her husband.

Gale's eyes zeroed in on Judy. "I am talking to my husband, Deputy Judy." Gale used deputy like an insult as you watched.

———————————————————

You felt Randy pull you closer and out of the way of police rushing into the building as you watched Gale getting heated with some blonde deputy near Dewey. You weren't positive but you were pretty sure this was the infamous Judy she talked so fondly about.

Your eyes scanned the area, glancing at Randy as he wore a nervous expression. You were sure you had the same look on your face.

Gale spat at the deputy overstepping. "I am talking to my husband, Deputy Judy."

Dewey turned to Gale, you and Randy. "Listen. There's a phone we believe may have been taken from the scene of a crime. Deputy Hicks has traced its coordinates back to this location." He hissed out low to not alert anyone but your group.

Randy blinked at Dewey, eyebrows scrunching. "W-What crime?..." Dewey didn't answer and Randy asked again more forcefully this time. "What type of crime, Dewey?"

Dewey shook his head and walked a few paces. "It's…Need to know for now."

Gale shoved her hands out in outrage. "And I'm not need to know?!"

"SHH!" Judy ordered with a finger to her lips and you thought Gale looked ready to smack her right then and there. You watched on with Randy as Dewey held up a cellphone…All before a ringing sounded out.

Everyone in the room looked around before an officer outside shouted for Sheriff Dewey. Dewey and Judy ran out followed by Gale. You and Randy followed close behind with a small crowd behind you out on the street. A few protesters were held up by officers as well.

You looked confused as the officers circled your rental car. Judy got out her gun and pointed to the trunk as Dewey came towards it.

You stared with wide eyes as you came forward to get their attention.

Dewey held up a hand. "Not now, YN."

You gave him a dumbfounded look. "Dewey, it's my rental car." You felt eyes on you as you said that. Rebecca gave Dewey a sassy look before tossing the keys to him to open the trunk up.

He did just that, forcing it open as a collection of gasps escaped everyone. Rebecca stared with her mouth parted, Randy's jaw clenched as he held a tighter grip onto your shoulder, Gale gasped and stood closer to you as well, gripping onto your other shoulder…And you…You just stared with wide eyes as a bloody mess was revealed. Posters of your face littered the trunk of the car drenched in blood smears over your image. A knife, gloves and the ringing phone lay on top. Staring back at you in a taunting manner.

Dewey quickly recovered, almost angered at what he found. "Damn it! This is an official crime scene now. Let's lock it down."

You stood near the trunk staring in absolute shock as someone pushed you away and you just allowed it. Spacing out as your heartbeat was thumping in your ears and your stomach sank.

You numbly stared at Dewey and asked. "...Tell me this is a prank, Dewey."

Dewey rolled his lips, looking remorseful before shaking his head and walking closer. "I'm afraid not, YN." He shook his head and placed an arm on your shoulder to lead you. "Come on." As he led you to a police car.

Gale stayed back and so did Randy as Rebecca got on the phone and called someone. You looked back at Randy one last time before stepping into the cop car. He had a worried expression with a tight frown. Not even looking at you; only the evidence in the trunk…You had to wonder…Whoever did this; how did they unlock it without the keys?…Who's blood was that?

You saw the protestors that stayed behind glare at you in the police car. That trunk makes you look like what they always thought; a killer.

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