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sadesluvr · 7 days

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Beautiful Liar

After you boyfriend Randy is tragically murdered, Billy is determined to be the shoulder you cry on.

A/N: Been sitting on this idea for a while. Please read the tags, and minors DNI!

Word count: 3.6K

Tags: SMUT / DUB-CON / Dacryphilia / Manipulation / Grief / Unprotected sex / Creampies / Loss of virginity / Corruption kink / Gaslighting / Misogyny / Reader has a vagina / Fingering

Randy Meeks was dead, and there was no way to change that.

He’d been murdered, brutally; his body in tatters, bloody mess left on the stockroom floor of the video store he’d worked at. Police had said it was a homicide, just another in a series of attacks by the infamous masked ‘Ghostface’ killer that had been running around Woodsboro. The whole town, your friend group included, had been speculating the person – or people’s - identity, wondering if they were male or female, old or young, insider or outsider...either way, the sole question was why. Why Woodsboro? Why now? Why your friends?

The simple answer – in Randy’s case at least – was that you were living in a classic horror movie, in which none of you would get out of alive unless you followed the rules, (which was the sole reason why you hadn’t slept with him during your relationship) but that particular answer was far from satisfying to you. First Sidney’s mother had disappeared, next was Casey and her boyfriend, soon followed by Sidney’s father, Tatum, Randy and Sidney herself, leaving only you to remain. You were, as Randy would dub it, ‘the final girl’.

And you hated it. Randy painted these women as strong, brave, heroic, even, but you were far from it; instead worn down and shattered by the massacre of those closest to you over the past six months. There was a reason that the term was only reserved for the movies; it was too difficult, maybe even downright impossible to be able to fight back in real life, especially when it had happened so constantly and so close to home. There were few words you had to speak anymore, and when you did you found that they were only able to materialise around Billy Loomis.

Billy, and his friend Stu Macher were the only of those that remained. Randy would’ve chalked it down to it being intentional, but the only pattern you could see was that they were killing ‘boy-girl-boy-girl’, which meant either of the two could’ve been next.

So, imagine your shock – and horror – when Stu had gone missing, leaving nothing but a bloodied shoe in his wake. It was the only death of your friends that you hadn’t been to; no morgue visits or ceremonies, with Billy choosing to spend the day with you after he claimed that the Macher’s had just wanted family at his funeral. You would’ve been hurt, but considering you’d spent the past few months feeling like a curse, you were rather happy to keep your distance.

“Thanks for staying with me…” you sighed, rubbing your red eyes. You’d been crying over Randy again, and although Billy wasn’t someone who liked dealing with emotions, he’d been a shoulder to cry on – literally – his silence giving you space to vent. “I’m sorry, I’m such a mess…”

“I think you’re taking this too hard,” he said simply, watching you intently as you tried to compose yourself. “None of this is your fault. There are psychos everywhere.”

“Yeah, but why us? How am I still here?” you gasped, the question blatantly rhetorical.

“Luck. And skill. You’ve been in the right place at the right time,” he sniffed. “Maybe the killer doesn’t want you dead...”

“Oh, that’s comforting.” You scoffed, dabbing at your nose with a tissue. He didn’t reply, but he tapped his finger impatiently along the edge of the sofa as his eyes roamed your body.

You used to be such a sweet little thing; always dolled up in your signature clothes and makeup, but now you were timid, a recluse, even, walking around in Randy’s old shirts and running on two hours of sleep (if that). He couldn’t argue – solely because he’d been the one to cause this - but in time he’d get you back to the way you were. In fact, he might’ve even enjoyed this broken version of you even more; with swollen lips, a melancholy glow, and a psyche that was desperate for affection that only your former boyfriend could’ve given to you.

Killing Randy had been exhilarating. It’d been all too easy, the boy practically boasted about his job (and therefore his schedule), and then it had been down to hiding in the stock room on his late shift, only to lunge at him from the shadows, pointed blade digging in and ravaging his pale flesh, all the while he screamed – even cried – your name. That was your knight in shining armour, a guy who’d failed to follow the rules he swore to live by. Pathetic.

He’d shown him his face right before he died, remembering the way his eyes, though dull and rubber like a fish, had seemingly shone with recognition. He’d put the pieces together, simply far too late.

“Don’t worry, Randy,” he’d said. “I’ll take good care of your little girlfriend.”

Even in his moribund state, the nerd had known what he’d meant, his eyes flickering with worry just as the life had snapped out of him, the whole situation comically cinematic. All that was next was to kill Sidney, the girl that Randy adored before you’d even transferred to Woodsboro. It was simple; Sidney was collateral, and you were a spoil of war. And there was no one left to save you.

“I think you should go outside,” Billy said bluntly. “Being inside all day isn’t good for your head.”

You sighed and wiped your face, glancing around your living room. Truthfully, you couldn’t remember the last time you’d opened the curtains; much less when was the last time you’d gotten off the couch. The television was always on, and you’d done nothing but aimlessly flick through the channels, both avoiding yet drawing yourself to the news, hoping there’d be an update on the killer. It struck you as odd that it had all gone silent.

“Like...Where?” you said incredulously, and Billy resisted the urge to sigh.

“We could go to the movies,” he suggested. “It’ll be on me. I’ll even let you watch those terrible romance ones with the sappy endings.”

You seemed to perk up at this, glancing over at the time on the clock across the room. It was 6:15, and if you showered quick enough (and found some clean, unwrinkled clothes) you could make it to a random seven o’clock screening. It was kind enough that Billy was here with you, but offering to take you to a romance film took selfishness out of the question – he was a true friend, treating you in the same way he had Sidney.

You, like many others, had joked about how perfect he was, often wishing that Randy had been the same way. He’d been nice, without a doubt, but sometimes he was erratic and clingy (some would say annoying), whereas Billy was far more level-headed and relaxed, evident through his constant support. It was time for you to smile, even if it would be temporary.

“Okay...” You whispered with a weak smile, standing to your feet. “Give me a minute, I’m just gonna freshen up.”

Billy’s deep brown eyes followed your figure as you walked past him and disappeared up the stairs. Sitting for a moment, he stared at the blaring screen of the television before shutting it off. Considering your state, he’d been surprised that it had been that easy, but apparently all it took for a girl to come around was the promise of a free outing and cliche love stories. The silence was telling – your parents weren’t around – and he pondered your reaction to his arrival in your bedroom...for company, of course.

Pushing himself up from the couch, he followed you, his shoes barely making a noise as he made his way up the steps before stopping at your bedroom door, being a gentleman and taking his shoes off before he entered. A crack of light from the doorway of the bathroom told him that it was occupied, and so he took it as a signal to enter your threshold, wasting no time in rummaging through your drawers.

He ran his lithe fingers over the outlines of your bra, following the soft cotton and curved shape as he imagined holding your tits in his hands, groping and tugging on them as you rode his cock, screaming and moaning his name so loudly that you forgot all about your idiot boyfriend.

It was the same with your panties, except he wanted to cut them off you, to watch as your legs trembled from trying to avoid the blade; only to get nipped, ruby rivulets trickling down your thighs. He’d rub it, smear the substance across your skin as he tried to soothe you, your fluids coating his skin and fingernails, only to been mixed with the translucent l cream of your orgasm – over and over and over again.

Sitting down on the edge of your bed, he waited for you to come in, raising his brows at your squeal upon seeing him. You were only in a dressing gown, with your bra peeking out of the sides of the fluffy material. If he wasn’t already hard, he certainly was now.

“Billy!” You gasped. “I told you to wait downstairs!”

“I got bored,” he shrugged. “I wanted to see more of you.”

You gave him a pointed look as you scraped your earrings off the dresser, clipping them on as you paced around the room in search of an outfit.

“You know me,” you chuckled. “We’ve been friends for a year.”

“Yeah, but do you ever really know someone?” He said softly, his gaze locked on your own as he cocked his head, blinking slowly at your confused expression. There was something unsettling about his tone, and you couldn’t help but think back to one of Randy’s many pained rants: “Never trust anyone. Everyone’s a suspect, even the love interest!” Did he know something you didn’t, or was he just being his typical, elusive self?

“I mean, come on now, Y/N. Look around. There’s no one left…just us. I think it’s time we got to know each-other.”

Pulling on some pants under your gown, you frowned.

“What’re you saying?”

“We should be closer than we are,” he said softly, reaching out a hand to fiddle with the strap of your gown leisurely, his eye contact fleeting, but coy. “How else are we going to get through this?”

Your eyes widened, and you gave Billy a once over as you contemplated the implications of his words. He’d never really been that much of the touchy type up until now, and it couldn’t be coincidental that all of a sudden he’d become so close to you. Perhaps it was the stress; the trauma of losing his friends that made him feel like he needed to fill the void. Or maybe it was genuine, that he wanted to stick through this real-life tragedy with you. Why else would he stay the long nights and weekends, watching TV with you or offering you his snacks?

“Y-You’re a good friend,” you stammered. “Really. But I just don’t know if I can let anyone close to me anymore. What if you get killed!?” You choked, and Billy pulled you to the side of him, pressing your head into the crook of his neck as you sobbed. Tracing small circles on your back, he let you fix yourself before he pulled away, staring into your eyes as he spoke.

“I’m not going anywhere,” he said softly. “I promise. And you know why?”

You shook your head.

“I spoke to Randy a few days before he died. He was paranoid – you know how he was – I guess you could say that he had a sense he was going to die…” Billy paused, eyes flickering with recognition before he swallowed and continued. “…He said that if anything were to happen to him, that I should be the one to take care of you. He knew how close you were with Sidney, and she’d have wanted the same.”

Shakily, your lips parted as you took a breath. Sidney, like many others, had always gushed about how sweet Billy was – particularly how patient he’d been when it’d come to having sex. It would only be logical for them to say that, given the fact that Stu was the only other candidate. No one else would’ve stuck beside you, putting up with your weeks of moping and incessant crying. It was only right that you started giving him some thanks. After all, he was all you had left.

“O-okay,” you smiled softly before wrinkling your nose. You were so close to Billy that strands of his hair was grazing against your face, and you could smell the faint scent of his cologne – icy, yet comforting. “I’m sorry,” you sighed. “I guess I got so wrapped up in thinking about Randy that I haven’t really been grateful to you. Come on, let’s go out —“

“This isn’t about the movies.” Billy interjected, his brows slightly wrinkled. “This is about you. You’re a girl, and you have needs.”

You froze, always worried it would come to this.

“I can’t let you do that,” you said affirmatively. “You were with Sidney, she was my friend —“

“She’s gone now,” he said, zero inklings of emotion detected within his voice. “Just like Randy’s gone. I have needs too, you know. You’re not really being a good friend by ignoring them.”

“Billy…”

“You mean a lot to me,” he continued, placing a hand on your thigh, rubbing it in a slow but enticing manner. “I think about you a lot. I want to do more to help you…but you’re not letting me.”

You knew it was wrong to go there, but part of you knew that he had a point. There was no use in festering in misery; Randy, Sidney and the rest of your friends were gone for good, and there was ultimately nothing that would change that. All you could do was focus on what you had now, and that was Billy; patient, willing, and ready to carry out the wishes of your deceased friends. You just had to let him in.

Silently, you nodded, and he took that as confirmation to kiss you. His lips were warm and wanting, but certainly felt unfamiliar, and you found that it took you a while to find a suitable rhythm. Billy wasted no time in pushing you back onto the bed, kissing down your neck as he straddled you, the faint outline of his hardening cock brushing against your covered leg. His hands lingered on the tie of your robe, glancing down at it with a smirk before pulling it undone, exposing your semi-nude torso to the cool air of the bedroom.

Your heart leapt out of your chest; not because what you were doing was taboo, but because you’d never done it before. You were about to lose your virginity to your dead friend’s boyfriend – something that your cloudy mind couldn’t comprehend.

“You’re beautiful,” he whispered, leaving love bits on your chest as his fingers slipped under your bra and pinching and rubbing at the surrounding skin and sensitive nipples. “Randy didn’t know what he had…”

Letting out a moan, you allowed yourself to be consumed by him, pushing off his open button-up so that he was left in his white shirt. He didn’t look much, but his arms were surprisingly muscular, and you found yourself tracing along the outlines of his skin, inadvertently pulling him closer.

Billy pulled away, a smirk visible on his face as he unzipped his pants, sliding his trousers to his ankles before readjusting himself on the bed. Taking your hand, he guided you off the bed and brought you to your feet.

“Strip for me,” he lulled, watching you intently for a reaction. “I want to see how pretty you are…”

Nervously, you peeled the robe off your body, dropping it to the floor at the edge of your bed before undoing your pants, all under the watchful, jaded eyes of Billy Loomis. As cliched as it sounded, you felt like a bride on her wedding night, nerves released by Billy’s soothing coos and gentle touch. He patted the bed – yours, which you seemed to forget – and you laid down, taking laboured breaths as his brown locks disappeared between your thighs, skin breaking into goosebumps as he slid your panties down your legs.

“You’re wet...” he hummed, placing his index and middle together before rubbing your hood in small, deliberate circles. “I think you wanted me more than you let on.”

“B-Billy...” you gasped, shutting your eyes at the pleasurable sensation. “I-I’ve never...”

“Shh, I know, I know...” he whispered, his touch becoming rougher as he prodded and spread your lips apart, admiring your insides like some sort of fucked-up doctor. “ ‘M gonna make you feel good, but you need a little practise first...”

Billy began to finger you, withdrawing his digits every so often to admire the way the slickness of your arousal coated his skin, glossy and translucent, the feeling second only to the blood of his victims on his skin. As he curled his fingers within you, he found that you began to shake and clench; your orgasm abruptly evident.

As much as he wanted to indulge in it, he wanted to savour you – and so pulled his fingers out, earning a breathy whine from you. Hastily, he lowered his boxers, his erect cock jutting out like a weapon as he stalked you, pushing your body deep into the pillows as he straddled you.

“D-Do you have protection...?” you whispered meekly, and Billy could’ve came right there and then at the sight of you, lips parted and begging to be kissed as you gazed at him through your lashes.

“No...” he replied, watching the fear wash over your face. “But it’s ok. I was safe with Sidney, and you’ve never had sex, right? That means you’re good.”

Biting your lip, you debated protesting, but found it wasn't worth it. You wanted him – needed this – and you were already sinning by fucking your dead friends’ boyfriend. What did unprotected sex have on that?

“You’re right,” you said with a small smile, puffing your cheeks as you prepared for him to enter you. “Be gentle...”

“I wouldn’t dream of hurting you,” he said firmly, eyes unblinking as he adjusted himself at your entrance, the edge of his cock grazing against your folds. “We’re in this together, remember?”

You knew he meant it when he kissed you upon his penetration, his lips swallowing your whine as he entered you. He wasn’t by any means a stallion – simply averaged sized – but he filled you almost instantly, a dull ache forming around your walls as he began to thrust his hips up into you. If this was what sex was like; rhythmic, passionate, if not a little sharp-edged, then you were partially sad that you hadn’t got to experience it with Randy...the remaining deeply selfish part of you glad that it was with Billy.

He seemed to know every part of you, where to kiss, where to rub, where to hold – when to slow down and when to quicken, all adorned with his sweet nothings that he spoke into your neck, ever so occasionally peering up at you through his lashes, his exact thoughts elusive to you. He cared, right? Why else would he hold you so close to him, kiss your collarbone, rub and soothe your thighs as he rolled his hips deeper, your pelvises slapping against each other in the heat of the moment?

“You’re so tight,” he moaned as your lips gripped his bare shaft. “So good to me...Taking me so well...”

You whined, the sound getting lost under the slight creaking of the bed and the rustle of your bedsheets, tightening your arms around his neck as you drew him closer into you and running a hand through his hair. Billy was thankful, thankful that you couldn’t see his shit-eating smirk from this position onto of you, but much more for Randy; as if he hadn’t had been such a paranoid nerd, he wouldn’t have had the opportunity to imprint himself on you forever.

His strokes were deep and fulfilling, the head of his cock beginning to buck up into your g-spot, pleasure made more overwhelming as he reached down again to rub at your clit. It was dark, somewhat twisted, but it was perfect; and you could actually feel your anxieties disappear entirely. Who was Randy? Had you ever really loved him?

Even amongst your white haze as you got closer to the heat of your orgasm, you were able to make out the sound of a lock opening. Your eyes shot open, trying to piece together footsteps and visible signs of entry – Billy had been the only one to come in, perhaps he’d forgotten to lock the door? Or maybe it was your parents, home early from their outing? Worse, maybe it was the killer, dead on arrival like the Grim Reaper as soon as you’d gone against the rules and had sex.

“Billy —“ you gasped, squeezing your eyes shut as his cock hit your sensitive spot. “The door…I-I think someone’s here…”

“Shh, you’re okay…” he murmured into your ear. “I didn’t hear anything…”

A plunging, shaking feeling consumed you as you came, half-lidded eyes making out the shape of a gloved hand and knife creeping from behind the door. Instinctively, you opened your mouth to scream, but nothing came from it. All you could do was lie there, throat parched and the air knocked out of your lungs as you watched the figure enter the room; not hooded, masked or even bloody – but taking the shape and form of a tall, lanky boy with blonde hair.

Stu was alive, and Billy had lied to you.

#florence writes!!#billy loomis x reader #billy loomis smut #ghostface x reader #scream 1996 imagine #scream imagine #scream x reader #billy loomis imagine

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famwhy · 10 months

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"You always were too smart..."

"...for your own good."

Scream 1996

Yandere! Billy Loomis X F!Reader

Synopsis: The Woodsboro massacre was a case that had been announced to be closed as soon as it was opened. The answer was obvious, right? There were two witnesses after all. Mr Prescott snapped, killed a bunch of kids, then shot himself in the head as a result of the nearing anniversary of his wife's death—two of your close friends confirmed it. Why, then, did you feel the need to meddle? Why couldn't you just mind your own goddamn business?!

Warnings: Mentions of death, Gore, Manipulation, Threat/Violence

"It just doesn't make any sense!"

None of it did. The witnesses, the evidence, the murders—it was just too big of a headache to deal with.

You didn't know why you were still doing it; still looking into this case even in the depths of midnight. It was closed, the chief said so himself—your two best friends were there, they saw what happened and recalled the events as such, their stories had even been perfectly aligned...

...almost too perfectly.

It was dumb—and you were probably being paranoid but—nothing felt right. If this was all Sidney's dad's doing then... why kill Casey Becker and Steve Orth? What did they have to do with him? You would've understood if they had attended Stu's party and were just caught in the crossfire but that wasn't the case, they were killed before the massacre—days before, in fact. Why? Why target them?

And—why would a murderer, who made sure all of his victims were dead, stab both Billy and Stu just perfectly so that he missed their vitals and didn't dig deep enough for them to actually be able to die of blood loss?—or, at least, not for a long while. Wouldn't he want to also make sure they were dead before offing himself?

The weapon too—why the hell did you only find a gun at the scene of the crime when there was evidence of a knife being used as well? If he didn't care enough to dispose of the gun he used to kill himself and others, why dispose of the knife?

None of it added up. None of it was making any sense.

"Fuck!"

Frustration coursed through you, crawling through your skin to visibly cause the bulging of your veins and urge your brows down further than ever before. The deep bags under your eyes weren't doing you any wonders either.

You were struggling and it showed.

Papers sat haphazardly strewn across the desk in front of you, each one depicting different inked up versions of the crime scene—from the body of Tatum Riley hanging by the driveway door, to the very gun that brought about the end of the accused 'murderer' himself. To the normal civilian, it would be hard to stomach—to you, it was just another Tuesday.

Except, this Tuesday seemed to really want to bash your head in.

With another aggravated huff through your lips, your hand shot out to the messy pile before sifting through it, trying to find something—anything—that would satisfy this god-awful itch in the back of your mind.

Then—a creak.

Your eyes shot up, muscles tensing as you scanned the shadows leaking through the corners of the room for the cause of the noise. One hand kept hovering above the sheets and the other slowly inched towards the drawer beneath you, fingers steadily winding around the knob before—

"Kid, what are you doing here?"

The flick of a switch came with the familiar voice that asked you that question; a voice that instantly caused your optics to widen and your back to suddenly go from lax to rigid as you clumsily fumbled around in your seat. "Sheriff!"

He grunted, voice gruff as he continued, "It's almost one, you have school tomorrow, why the hell are you still here?"

You parted your lips—ready to respond—when he squinted and scanned the desk, opening his own mouth to speak again before you could.

"Are those all from the casefile of the Woodsboro Massacre? Kid, that case is solved. It's done. The hell are you doing still in the station this late with those files?"

Your lips tugged down as your gaze trailed his own. "It just... it doesn't feel right, chief."

When he didn't respond, you chose to keep going.

"I mean, why would he kill his own daughter? I was close with Sid, I knew her and I knew how much her dad adored her—"

"That's the thing with psychos, Y/N, they—"

"He isn't just a psycho though!" That came out unnecessarily loud, and the chief seemed to think so too with the way his brow rose pointedly as soon as the words fell out, "Sorry, I... this case has been killing me all night. It just... it doesn't line up. If he really did snap, why target Casey Becker and Steve Orth days before the anniversary of his wife's death? Why specifically them? And why leave Billy and Stu with non-lethal wounds before killing himself?

"I know I should be grateful that they're still alive considering they're my best friends and all..." you continued, tone solemn, "and I am! I really am! I just... I can't help but find this all too strange."

And as you hung your head down, your ears soon perked up to the sound of several more creaks slowly growing louder as they made their way over to your seated form.

Then, a warmth blanketed your shoulder, causing your head to tilt up and your eyes to meet with a pair that seemed to slowly soften the longer you spent looking at them.

"Look, kid, you're a genius. That's why you work at this station. That's what you worked hard to prove to everyone here. Every cop in this town respects you—including me. If you say you think something's up with this case, then I believe you."

Your eyes lit up.

"Just... promise me you won't stay up this late investigating it. You can come down to the station as soon as school is over tomorrow but let me give you a ride home today."

You could do nothing but nod vigorously, too elated to form words as of that current moment. The nodding was enough though, and soon, you found yourself situated in the chief's car, buildings passing by in a flurry of colours as he drove over the bumps of the rocky road beneath you, gaze focused ahead.

With the incessant chatter of the radio echoing in the background, you almost couldn't hear your own thoughts. But, they were there. And they were just as unyielding in their fight for your attention.

Your skin crawled at the thought of Billy's expression if he ever found out about your doubt in his eye-witness account. Stu could brush it off easily but Billy... he was troubled, to say the least. He had a lot going on and you were one of the only people he trusted enough to share it all with; so to hear that you found him suspicious in any way would... well, it would crush him.

But, justice was justice. You pursued being a detective because it needed someone to deliver it with an iron fist. If that meant having to doubt the words of someone close to you then so be it. You worked so hard to get to where you were, you would be sure to honour it wholeheartedly.

"Here we are, kid." You blinked, turning to the officer beside you. "Get some rest, alright? See you tomorrow."

With a nod, you stepped out of the vehicle, and it didn't move an inch until you made it inside the house—staying there for a couple more seconds after the door closed before the wheels turned again as he started off once more.

And you didn't know if it was just because he was gone—his presence always being able to make you feel so much more safe than you did on a daily basis—but... a sudden chill ran down your spine, pricking your skin with a feeling you couldn't quite place your finger on but an unsettling one nonetheless.

You didn't quite get enough sleep that night.

But then again, when did you ever? Perhaps your paranoia was at an all time high because of insomnia—but, you digressed.

Besides, it was a new day and you had just arrived at school. You should focus—

—that was a lot easier said than done, though. Almost mindlessly staring into your open locker, you let your thoughts drift to the nefarious case for the umpteenth time.

Stop it, Y/N. Save it for the station.

With a sigh, you slammed the door shut and almost jumped when you caught view of what seemed to suddenly appear by your side.

There, stood one of the very boys your mind couldn't seem to hold off on thinking about recently—leaning against the locker with his defined arms crossed over his chest and his parted bangs falling over his face to frame it perfectly, basically forcing you to notice the way his lips were slightly twitched up as he gazed back at you.

"Billy," you whispered.

"Y/N," he responded, lips twitching up just a bit more, "I was wondering if you wanted to come over later? Watch a movie with me? I was gonna watch with Stu but then his family had that last minute trip thing."

Instantly, you were brought back to your conversation with the chief yesterday and your gaze drifted off to the side as you spoke—albeit a bit hesitantly—"I don't know... I should really get down to the station..."

He frowned at that, one arm unfolding to reach for your own, landing on your bicep before his fingertips slowly trailed down, ghosting over the exposed skin to send tingles down your spine as his palm finally found yours, fingers interweaving not too long after.

"C'mon, you spend so much time at the station now—it's like you're more hung up on this case than me. I barely ever get to see you. I miss my favourite girl."

That was true. Not the part about him barely seeing you (well, that was true too but—), the part about you being more hung up on the case than him—and he was actually there in person. It had only been a few days but Billy and Stu had seemed to move on just fine—which was strange considering the fact that, y'know, both of their girlfriends were dead.

Maybe, if you said yes, you'd be able to ask some specific questions to Billy; see if he was hiding any details from you.

"Okay," slowly, you nodded, "Yeah, sure, I'll come over."

At that, his lids fell halfway down his eyes before he purred out—voice borderline seductive—"Perfect."

To any girl who was none the wiser, that would send pleasant shivers down their spine—the shivers running down your spine, though, were anything but pleasant.

The rest of the school day breezed by and all you could find yourself thinking about was the case and Billy—he was practically living rent-free in your head. Even as he showed up at your last class—leaning against the wall in that way that just screamed Billy Loomis—you found yourself too stuck in your thoughts about him to be able to pay attention to the real him.

And he noticed.

"Y/N? You good?"

You blinked, tilting your head to his form as he walked beside you, the light breeze blowing slightly against his beautiful brown locks. "Yeah, I'm fine."

He frowned, reaching the hand that had been brushing against your own this whole time further towards you before asking, "You sure?"

Lightly, and as subtly as you could, you pulled your hand away. "Yeah, I'm sure."

He tilted his head down towards where your hands would've met and you watched as his lips pulled taut, expression almost appearing... blank as he stared at the empty space before his gaze flitted back up and he stuffed his hands into his pockets, muttering out a gruff 'okay' as he did so.

The rest of the walk to his house was silent—the wind and mindless chatter of other teenagers being the only thing your ears could pick up on.

And as you made it to his door, your heart constricted a little—thoughts wandering back to the look on his face after you rejected his seek for touch. Billy wasn't usually a physical person, at least, not with anyone but you and his now-dead girlfriend.

Though, even with Sid, his touch seemed a little more tense and uncertain than with you. You noticed the way he barely hesitated to hold you; the way he almost seemed relieved when he did finally get to feel you—be it against him or just your presence in the room.

If you didn't know any better, you'd say he had a crush on you. But he had a girlfriend already—one he asked out, no less—so that couldn't be the case. The only explanation was that he really valued you as a friend. And that thought pricked you so much more than it should've.

Perhaps... perhaps you were being too paranoid with your thinking. The case was done. Over. You should just lay it to rest before you ended up really hurting one of your best friends.

Yeah... yeah. You'd do just that. You were going to enjoy this day with Billy. No more getting caught up in cases that were already solved. Nope. It was time to be there for your best friend.

With that thought in mind, you reached out your hand, slowly intertwining your fingers with the tall boy's own as he opened the doors of his home—pausing for a moment to glance back at you with wide eyes before his lips stretched up more than you had ever seen before and he tugged on your arm.

It was the littlest of force but it was sudden enough to send you tumbling into his chest as his arms engulfed you wholy; entirely. You could practically feel that familiar sense of relief radiating off his form and you couldn't help the laugh that echoed off yours.

"God, I missed you," he mumbled into your hair and a small, gentle smile graced your lips.

"I missed you too."

You stood there for a few more moments, basking in each others presence for just a little longer before you decided to pull away—albeit being met with a little resistance from Billy's end but, you were eventually successful.

"Alright, c'mon, you big sap, let's go in and watch your favourite scary movie."

He grinned at that, instantly moving to grab your hand again as he led you to his room—rushing through the clear, monotone halls before he arrived at his wooden door and opened it with a wide swing of his arm.

Soon, you found yourself seated on his bed, feet kicking back and forth as you awaited his presence. He had gone to go retrieve the VHS containing his movie from the ground floor so it was just you sat in the confines of the room riddled to the brim with horror posters from all sorts of media.

For a jock, he sure was a nerd.

One particular thing stood out to you, though—a small, rectangular bit of paper clipped to a string. It illustrated a smaller version of both yourself and Billy, stood beside each other with large grins on your faces—carefree and bright in their nature; loving and tender.

He still had that?

Unable to stop yourself, you moved to get a closer look—

—only to almost stumble when your foot caught the edge of something that certainly wasn't the ground.

A box—dull and beaten up. It was made up purely of cardboard which definitely wasn't doing it any wonders when it came to durability, that was for sure. The brown colour was quite unsightly to look at and the way some parts seemed almost... maroon was strange, to say the least.

Ever the investigator, you almost couldn't help the way your fingers naturally curved around the lid, slowly lifting the rough material up before shifting it to the side just in time to catch a familiar mask staring right back at you.

Mouth opened wide in an endless scream as soulless black eyes glared into your form—the sharp silver of a cutting blade coated in crimson laying beside it. It was almost too much to process at once.

And as you picked up the leather notepad sat beneath the dark robe under the mask, the gears slowly started turning in your head.

Flicking through the pages only further solidified your conclusion.

That mask belonged to Ghostface. That knife laying next to it was coated in blood. Unless there was some other murder that happened between now and the massacre, this was definitely the missing evidence from the crime scene.

And it was all in Billy Loomis' room.

You had an inkling, but this... this was on a whole other level.

The notebook detailed different ways to rid yourself of evidence when committing a murder, each one being linked back to a particular horror movie—even going as far as to have quotes obsessively scribbled near them with timestamps and everything. It was insane.

But, by far, the craziest thing was that Billy—your Billy—committed all of this. And if Billy was in on it, then so was Stu.

They both had murdered your whole friendship group that night.

Your fingers shook as you slowly stood up, legs barely able to hold your weight with how weak that realisation rendered you. It was like a bucket of ice cold water had been splashed onto you, drenching you from head to toe with the cruelty of the world.

Then—a click.

Slowly, you turned, book slipping from between your fingers as your eyes landed on the figure at the doorway.

Instantly, your hands shot up.

Billy stood there—expression blank as his eyes seemed almost... lifeless—with one hand raised and fingers wrapped around a black L-shaped object.

Your muscles grew tense. "Billy..."

"Stu's a fucking idiot," scoffed he, "I told him to burn all that stuff but he insisted we keep it as some sort of memento mori—something to remember our success with."

He took a step forward. You took a step back.

"But let's be honest, Y/N, you would've found out eventually, right?" As he spoke, your gaze stayed trained onto the gun, watching as he flailed it around—pupils shaking and hysteria slowly but surely clouding his eyes. "You always were too smart for your own good."

Your heart was beating ten miles a minute, practically playing drums in your ears with how loud it was as you continued to back away. "Billy, put the gun down."

"Y'know, Stu wanted to kill you... but I said no. Wanna know why?" He was now grinning from ear-to-ear. "'Cause I love you. I always have. Even as I was fucking that stupid whore Sidney that night, all I could think of was you."

You were running out of room to move back to. "Billy..."

"There! I confessed!" He suddenly rose his volume, and you winced a little. "Isn't that what you want?! A confession?! There's your fucking confession, Y/N!"

Getting kind of sick of all the ignoring, you spat back, "You know damn well that isn't the type of confession I want!"

"Well, maybe if your hadn't been such a snooping whore I wouldn't have to give you it!"

Here. There. Everywhere. He kept pointing that thing around so carelessly while his finger stayed hovering over the trigger, just one jerk away from a misfire; one jerk away from your possible end.

"Oh, baby, I'm sorry, I didn't mean it. I promise."

"Billy! Be careful with that damn thing!"

A slam.

"You know, Y/N, I wouldn't even have to use this if you minded your own goddamn business!"

Your back hit the wall, and the barrel was now pointing directly. at. you.

"So pretty for me," he whispered, voice having mellowed out so suddenly—so dementedly—you almost couldn't believe your ears as he closed in on you, practically pressing his body right up against yours, "My pretty girl."

The barrel of the gun was directly under your chin now, being used to tilt your head and lock your gaze with his own, crazed one.

"Such a clever girl, aren't you, dollface?" His praises came out steadily, voice low and husky as he continued to coo, "My clever little detective."

And as the world went black around you, you caught one more voice enter the room.

"Took ya long enough."

#x reader #female reader #yandere x reader #yandere #yandere male x female reader #yandere male #scream 1996 #billy loomis #billy loomis x reader #billy loomis x you #billy loomis x y/n #yandere billy loomis #yandere billy loomis x reader #scream x you #scream x reader #scream 1996 x reader #ghostface x reader

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bunnysbrainrot · 9 months

Text

No Vacancy - Day Two

Characters: Sam Winchester x fem!Reader, Dean, Castiel

Content: Majorly plot building. Romantic/sexual tension.

Summary: In day two of your one-on-one case with Sam, you gather intel together. Once things settle down for the second night, Dean reveals some news. Sam realizes he’s made a huge mistake involving a lust spell.

*A/N: This chapter was getting a bit long, and I haven’t posted in a couple days, so this chapter is out early! Honestly I like the pacing of this a bit better so I don’t burn out. Y’all better be ready for the next chapter 👀

————

“Mrs. O’Connor, would you say that your daughter had any enemies? Anyone who would want to cause her harm?” Sam’s tone was filled with compassion as the woman explained the situation.

Her lips wobbled, “I-I don’t know. Casey was a sweet girl, she just got caught up in the wrong crowd, that’s all.”

“Did you see any changes in her behavior in these past few weeks?” You piped up, matching the softness of Sam’s voice.

Casey’s mother shook her head, tears streaming down her cheeks. You reached into the inner pocket of your suit jacket, handing her a pack of tissues. She gives you thanks and takes a moment before she speaks again.

“Not much. She was quieter, sure, but I thought, y’know, maybe she was depressed - she spent almost all of her time in her room. We were so close, and she just… distanced herself.”

“How so?” Sam asked.

Through tears, her voice broke, “Her whole demeanor changed, got… darker. She wouldn’t let me into her room anymore. That was where we had our movie nights…”

You nodded as you listened, glancing to Sam for a sign of a breakthrough, but his expression was muddled. A few moments later you were handing your personal number to Casey’s mother, and wishing her a good day.

Sam asked, “So, what do you think?”

“I think we should check her room, but we need to give her mom some time,” you replied, mulling over what could have caused Casey’s murder.

Your phone buzzed against your hand in your pocket. To your relief you saw a text from Casey’s mother: Thank you for your help. I’m glad Casey has people who care like you do.

You showed Sam the message. His eyebrows furrowed in thought.

“What do I say back?”

“Well, we need to mention looking at Casey’s room,” Sam detailed, “and that we’re happy to help further.”

Your fingers fiddled with your phone as you issued a reply.

Of course. I’m sure the police have done so already, but we were given instruction to inspect Casey’s room. Would you mind letting us look around later today?

The reply was swift: Yes, that's fine. I'll be home later this evening, 7 p.m. would be the best time.

Stuffing your phone back into your pocket, you updated Sam.

"She says we can come back at 7 tonight. Until then, we should probably look over the police report and see who might know what happened to her."

Sam nodded, "We'll head back to the motel and look into it."

The motel. The goddamn motel where you and Sam blurred the lines of your friendship. With any luck, he wouldn't mention anything of last night, or this morning.

It was the way it felt so normal to wake up with him, to be enveloped in his arms, his scent, his soft breathing before he woke. It was a one-time thing that wouldn't, and couldn't, happen again. It was a vow - a guarantee to yourself that you wouldn't slip up like before. You reminded yourself on loop until you reached the motel again.

—

Twenty minutes later, and you were still staring at your computer screen. The thoughts couldn't flow like they normally did with your research. Vague searches covered the screen, but nothing constructive.

'Casey O'Connor family' 'Casey O'Connor facebook' 'Casey O'Connor instagram' 'Casey O'Connor death’

The tension you held in the pit of your stomach turned over itself when Sam cleared his throat.

"Find anything yet?"

Your breath hitched in your throat. Maybe Sam hadn't given things much thought after all. His tone was his usual curious self, but those bright hazel eyes swallowed you whole.

"Uh- no, not yet," you stammered, "I was, um, gonna take a pause and go to the lobby. About the... room situation."

Sam's lips thinned into a terse smile. For him, he didn't care one bit if there was another room available. He watched you leave the room, cursing himself all the while you were gone. You returned with a nervous smile, sparking a hidden hope in Sam's chest.

"Still no other rooms. And no cots, either."

It was Sam's turn to remind himself that last night crossed a boundary. All he'd thought about today was you, regardless of how hard he tried to reroute his thoughts. The way you'd buried your head into his chest, how you murmured in your sleep, how delicate your body felt in his hands...

He snapped himself out of it again, muttering to himself.

"What'd you say?" You raised an eyebrow at him.

He shook his head, "Nothing, I'm just mumbling to myself."

You let out a soft laugh, taking a seat on the bed. The ache in your shoulders reminded you of the consequences of sitting hunched over on the floor.

"The least they could've done was give us a desk or something."

"That's what you get in a small town, remember?" Sam quipped, that goofy grin back in action. You rolled your eyes at him and settled into your side of the bed, laptop open across your lap again.

Sam leaned over to you, staring at your screen. Well, you weren't lying when you said things on your end weren't interesting. You turned your head, watching him scour the Google search you haphazardly thought up.

"I... didn't really know what to look up," you admitted flatly.

He let out a breathy laugh, glancing sidelong at you. Those damn eyes. Part of you dared to close the inches between you, to brush your lips against his as if it were nothing. One wrong move, and you could risk everything you'd made with him. You surveyed his parted lips, suddenly pulled back up to his gaze when he cleared his throat. You shook yourself out of your trance and gave him a muttered apology before he took your laptop.

Within seconds he found something substantial - report cards from school, Facebook posts, tagged photos on Instagram.

"How'd you do that?" You asked.

Sam pushed himself beside you to give you a better angle at the screen, "First thing you gotta do is have the full name. Otherwise, you're flooding your search with 'Casey O'Connor's' from all over the country."

His arm brushed against yours, but he didn't pull away. Instead he rested fully against you as his fingers flew over the keys, opening page after page of information. You chose to let go and ease into him, head dropped to his shoulder as you watched. Sam's fingers stalled more than usual with you now relaxed against him. It was his turn for his thoughts to escape him.

"So, um," you piped up, "what are we looking for?"

He cleared his throat, "Changes in behavior, maybe in stuff that she posted, grades dropping, anything that seems like a red flag."

Casey's most recent posts to Instagram caught your eye. After explaining your gut feeling to Sam, the both of you kept mental note that perhaps Casey did get involved with something sinister.

—

The two of you had gotten lunch, lazed about town, and stoped by Casey’s school by the time 7 pm rolled around. At the O’Connor house, you kept downstairs to talk with the family, while Sam searched Casey’s bedroom. It took about 30 minutes, and you two were on your way.

“What’d you find?”

Sam handed you his phone, the photos organized into a neat folder. You inspected each image, taking stock in each sign - herbs scattered around, countless candles, and bottles of dark liquid.

“Is that..?”

“Blood, yeah. Almost didn’t see them; one rolled out of the closet. And if you see here,” he trailed on, scrolling to another photo, “seems like a pretty intricate altar in there.”

“Figures why she wouldn’t want her mom in the room,” you added.

You handed the phone back to Sam, fighting back a shiver when his hand grazed yours.

Perhaps he noticed, too, judging by the way his cheeks blushed. In the evening sun, it was barely noticeable but you were almost certain of it. You packed yourselves into the car and drove back to the motel. You rummaged through your duffel bag the moment you stepped in the door, picking out a new outfit for bed. Sam kicked off his dress shoes and shrugged off his suit jacket.

“Bedtime already, huh?” Sam teased. You turned to him and smiled.

“Just wanna get cozy. Makes doing research much easier.”

Sam shrugged, “Not a bad idea, I’ll probably do the same when you’re done. Need to get out of this damn suit.”

—

The time on your computer screen read 11:43 p.m., meaning you and Sam had been continuing your research for at least two hours. It had taken a toll of you both, with eyes dry and shoulders aching. You rested your tired eyes and felt the pull of exhaustion start to take over.

Until Sam’s phone rang - it was Dean. Sam immediately placed his brother on speakerphone.

“How’s the lovely couple?” Dean asked. He wasn’t in the room, but you could tell he was smiling - a shit eating grin that irritated you as much as his brother.

“Very funny, Dean,” Sam replied smoothly, a twitch in his eyebrow showed his annoyance. “How are things going on your end?”

Castiel muttered in the background of the phone call. Dean stuttered over his words as he told Cas to stop interfering.

“Okay, so we did a little searching on Casey. I mean, well, Cas did most of it. Turns out, our lovely Miss O’Connor had gotten involved with magic.”

Sam’s eyes snapped to yours, then to his laptop where he had stored photos of Casey’s bedroom. As you two listened to Dean the dots connected to make a full picture.

It was Castiel’s voice that piped up next, “We have reason to believe that Casey was involved with something dark. It doesn’t look like your average witchcraft. We’re talking about more forceful magic - breaking and creating soulmate contracts.”

He continued, “Those kind of bonds, soulmates, are meant to take time. It seems that Casey’s spells were focused on peoples driving emotions. Feelings like fear, insecurity, lust, and mania. Anything that could make people act out, it’s been happening in her social circle.”

“So, basically she’s playing Cupid?” you offered.

“Exactly,” Dean confirmed, interrupting Cas, “we broke some of the spells, but it seems like Casey did all of her little projects at home. Hell, she sent the spells to her friends in the mail. Who knew you could Amazon Prime some witchcraft.”

You chuckled at the joke, rolling your eyes. Sam smiled at you with relief that this whole situation had blown over.

“So, what’s next?” you prodded.

“If you two didn’t see any weird hoodoo at Casey’s house, then everything should be all settled.”

Sam furrowed his brows, “But Casey was murdered, how did she die, then?”

Dean replied, “That’s the karma of it. Casey planted a sachet on her boyfriend - love spell gone haywire. He eventually went a little too love-crazy, and ended up killing her. Jealousy was the source of it.” His tone has grown sullen with the final piece of news.

Now with the extra details, you didn’t know how to feel. What happened to Casey had been horrible, and it had worked itself out in the end. It was the part of hunting that never settled well with you. Sometimes, you simply couldn’t save everyone.

“Got it. So we’ll head back out tomorrow to meet you at the bunker, yeah?” Sam confirmed.

Dean’s tone changed to playfulness again, “Actually, I need y’all to check out a case the next town over. Mind camping out a couple more nights?”

It seemed Dean’s request was a final verdict based on the way Sam pursed his lips.

“Yeah, no problem, talk to you later,” Sam ended the call. He threw his phone onto the bed and closed his laptop.

“You alright?” You asked him. Sam let out a soft sigh and looked toward his suit jacket by the door.

“I think I might’ve screwed up.”

You did a double take, “What do you mean? Dean and Cas figured it out.”

He raced over to the jacket, fishing through the pockets until he plucked a small bundle. Your expression dropped completely at the sachet in his palm. Sam returned to your side and let you examine it - a small brown sack you assumed held herbs, oils, and then some. The sigils across the fabric stumped you; they were nothing like you’d ever seen before.

“What is this, Sam?”

“One of her spells,” he said, defeated, “I wanted to examine it, to see if someone planted something on her. That was before we knew that Casey was the witch.”

“Okay, so, what kind of spell is it?” you asked further.

Sam reopened his laptop, silent as he furiously typed away. Image after image splayed onto the screen - the realization came over the two of you at once.

“Lust.”

He coughed at the word, unable to choose his next move. Sam leaned back and let his head thump against the wall.

“Can’t we just…. burn it? Toss it out?”

With bated breath you waited for Sam to say something, anything. Instead he just shook his head.

“By now I’ve had it on me for hours. We’re kind of past the point of burning it.”

“Okay, but the spells only work on feelings that are already there, right? It wouldn’t work unless you’re with someone you wanted to, um… you know.”

Sam’s breathing quickened with each passing second. His words came out with an overwhelming shakiness.

“It’s a little late for that.”

Hi again! Thanks so much for supporting my work, the next chapter will be out in the next couple of days!

- Bunny

#spnfandom #spn #supernatural fanfiction #sam winchester x reader #sam winchester

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cissyenthusiast010155 · 4 months

Text

Not Without You ~Casey Novak xFem Wife!Reader (Alex Cabot x Olivia Benson)

Summary— Casey Novak angst. No more spoilers than that! Approach at your own risk!!!

Mommy… Master List

Requests & Prompt-List

Warnings: MATURE AUDIENCES, 18+!!, death, angst, really sad shit, murder, blood, gore, multiple suicides, unhappy ending, grief character death, crying, mentioned suicidal tendencies, etc.

Enjoy (:

The precinct room was tense. Nobody was moving a muscle. Everyone frozen. You stood right under the doorway. Everyone’s eyes were on her, on Casey.

It was crazy how wrong this had gone so quickly. The perp was holding Casey in front of him with a knife to the ADA’s throat. Her eyes were bulging in fear and you could see her body shaking.

You had walked into the situation, unintentionally, showing up to surprise your wife for lunch. And you had walked in to the precinct to find everyone with their hands up and staring at Case.

Your heart was racing and your breath was bated. Your mind started to spiral, as Elliot started to try and talk the perp down.

The man’s words blurred in and out of your understanding, you were too busy relieving your entire life with Casey. It was too fleeting. It wasn’t enough. This couldn’t be it. You and her had barely had anytime together.

The perp started to get more agitated. It seemed that anything Elliot was saying was only making it worse…

Before you knew it, you heard a sudden slice followed by a squelched scream… and blood splattering across the room…

your heart dropped. Then another slice, no scream this time. Your eyes fluttered heavily, you started to feel dizzy…

Your legs collapsed on themselves and you feel tumbling to the floor. Nothing made sense. How did it all go so wrong, so quickly…?

Tears started to flow from your eyes. You looked up toward the bloody scene, your vision was blurred and hazy. EMTs were rushing to the two bodies that lies laying on the floor.

Everything began to muffle, the sounds fading into the background. You got the sudden urge to throw up, and you couldn’t stop it, vomiting across the precinct floor in front of you.

You jolted as you felt someone’s hand on your back. You looked up to your left with sobbing eyes to see Olivia trying to talk to you. But you couldn’t hear her.

She tried to pick you up and turn you away from Casey, but you fought back. You fought with your life and soul to get to Casey. Olivia’s hold tightened, not letting you move, so in desperation, you began to scream.

“No! God please no!” as you collapse to ground again and scream in agony.

She picked you up from the floor again and quickly filed you out of the main room and into a separate office. You fought and fought but you just didn’t have it in you anymore. She sat you down, sitting next to you, still trying to tell you something.

This was when you noticed how much you were shaking. You couldn’t stop it. Your breathing was shallow and you felt like you were being blocked from the air in your lungs. This realization only brought more tears. Shock and adrenaline were now in full course and running rampant in your system, and you were really starting to feel the overwhelming effect.

Your eyes started to feel heavy and it all became too much. The last thing you remember is leaning against Olivia’s shoulder before shutting your eyes indefinitely.

When you woke up, you were in Olivia’s apartment. You jolted upright with wide eyes.

Olivia was in her kitchen, but as soon as she heard your gasped breathing, she came into the living room where you laid on her couch. She immediately sat down next to you, bringing her hand behind your back.

“Hey, hey… sweetheart, it’s okay. You’re at my apartment. I didn’t think… it would be appropriate to go to yours…” Olivia explained softly.

For a moment, for a nanosecond, you felt at peace. And then it all hit you.

Her dead body, the life leaving her eyes as blood spilt everywhere, her twitching hand as she bleed out, her mouth which you swore was whispering I love you…

You started shaking again, and your breathing went shallow and spiked. Tears flowed freely and violently as you rocked back and forth on Liv’s couch.

“Oh god Oh God Oh God…” you choked out, your lip trembling as you tried to stifle your violent sobs.

“It’s okay, let it all out…” Liv comforted you.

You suddenly felt the rage in your body kick in. You swatted Liv’s hand away and stood up, filled with anger.

“Y/N?” The brunette asked.

“I… I need to go…” you mumbled, “W-where’s my stuff?”

“At the precinct still… Wait Y/N?!”

Before Liv could say another word, you were out the door.

~~~

You walked into the SVU precinct for the second time in twenty four hours that day. The first thing you saw was the blood stain straight in front of you as you walked in. You gulped.

More feelings came bubbling up but you shoved them down.

You marched into the Captain’s office and demanded your things. Cragen looked at you sympathetically and asked if you were alright.

“I’m fine…” you grumbled, “now please give me my shit back.”

Cragen obliged and you were quick your things and leave. You made it all the way home and to your apartment hallway.

But then you saw your apartment. The one you and Casey had gotten together. The one you had planned to raise kids together in.

You shakily placed a hand over your mouth before letting out more uncontrollable sobs. Your legs were threatening to give out on you, but you managed to stumble your way to the bedroom, collapsing on the bed and losing consciousness again.

You couldn’t get out of bed for the next couple of days. You were in and out of either feeling completely numb or being it with all the grief at once. You were questioning reality.

Was this even fucking real…? How could this have happened…? What the fuck were you going to do…??

Throughout those days, you heard many people knocking, coming and going. Not much on your phone anymore, because you had let its battery run out, but when it was on, everyone on the team was calling and texting.

You knew they only wanted what’s best for you and that they wanted to make sure you were okay… But you couldn’t face them. If you faced them, that would mean it was real. And you couldn’t risk that. That would break you. More than you are already, it would shatter you into the abyss.

Months had passed and you had gone from your bed to your couch. Nowadays, it was mostly the numb feeling. You’d gotten rid or moved any and all reminders of your late past wife.

You spent your days sleeping and crying. People always said it got better, but your pain when you felt it, was like the day you lost her. People were bullshit. You didn’t want anyone ever again. You didn’t want this. Didn’t want life.

On a good day, you had just enough energy to make it to the bathroom. Today, you had been in the bath for hours, already having refilled it twice. You had your head laid back as your line of sight hit a bottle of pills on your counter. Your gut tugged at you.

You could be with Casey again…

You leaned far with your arm and grabbed the pill bottle. You spun it in your hands and thought about it all.

She’s gone… never coming back… why not just skip the torture and be with her again…?

“Alex…” Olivia breathed out with a light smile as the blonde ADA strutted down the street and towards the brunette detective with her signature smirk.

Liv, Elliott, and Alex then walked the crime scene and got themselves familiarized with this new case. And when they had a second at the precinct, she pulled Liv aside.

“Hey Liv, I heard about Casey Novak, Y/N’s wife… How is Y/N…?” Alex asked with light concern.

You and Alex went to law school together. You had been really close. Until she went into Witness Protection. Since then neither of you had heard from each other.

“I… Alex…” Liv sighed, rubbing her temples, “I haven’t heard from Y/N in months…”

Alex’s jaw nearly dropped.

“What…??” She exclaimed, “Liv that’s… that’s…”

“I know, I know… I just got caught up in cases and I thought she didn’t want me there by the way it went down and—” Liv rambled.

“No Liv…! It’s— Where does she live…??” Alex said in a panicked and concerned tone.

Liv quickly gave Alex the address, Alex stopped by Cragen’s office to let him know she’d be gone for some time, before the blonde practically ran out of the precinct.

Olivia was quick to follow, having trouble keeping up with how fast Alex was going. But she got to the blonde in the parking garage, stepping in front of Lex’s car before she could drive away.

“Alex! What is happening…??” Liv exclaimed.

“Get in the car!!” Alex called out.

Liv quickly got in the passenger seat and sped away.

“Lex… talk to me please…” Liv softly spoke, interlocking her left hand with her girlfriend’s right hand.

Alex took a deep breath as she sped down the roads to your place.

“Liv… When Y/N and I were in school, she got really close to a professor, she was like a mentor to Y/N… In our last year… that professor died…” Alex breathed out.

“Oh… I’m sorry…” Liv gently said.

“No Liv that’s not it. What’s it is what happened afterwards… Y/N started behaving oddly, becoming more reclusive and anti social… and then…” Alex gulped, and flinched a little at recalling these harsh memories, “Liv, she tried to kill herself.”

Liv’s whole demeanor changed, her eyes going wide. She felt guilt wracking her body.

How could she have been so stupid…? How could she have left you alone for so long…? What if..??

The car screeched to a halt just outside the apartment, and the two women rushed into the building. They ran up the stairs and Olivia had absolutely no hesitation in barging down the door. The women rushed into the room and looked around frantically.

Alex listened for you, and she faintly heard the sound of water running. Her eyes widened and she exclaimed,

“Bathroom, Liv, bathroom!!!!” Alex cried out.

Alex stumbled the bathroom door open and stepped into the overflowing water from the bath that was everywhere. She yelped desperately in distress. Tears started to run down Alex’s cheeks, as she placed a hand over her mouth, the other hand still on the doorknob.

Liv came rushing behind Alex and was just as horrified at the sight as Alex was.

The overflowing water… the empty pill body… your lifeless body..

“We-we need a bus…” Liv stammered into her radio, taking ahold of Alex.

Hell knows they both needed the support…

“It’s not your fault, Liv. Not your fault…” Alex whispered.

“Like hell it isn’t…” Liv breathed out.

~~~

Casey Novak Masterlist

Olivia Benson Masterlist

Alex Cabot Masterlist

#casey novak #casey novak x reader #Alex Cabot #olivia benson #cabenson #alexandra cabot #liv benson #angst #Casey Novak angst #unhappy ending #law and order special victims unit #law and order svu #law & order #law & order special victims unit #law & order svu #cissyenthusiast010155 answers

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wrinkly-walls · 2 months

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Let's talk motives

Longass rambling scream (1996) meta post incoming

DISCLAIMER I am not taking into account anything that happens in any of the other sceam movies, because they were made later and I think the whole concept of Roman is not interesting. So to ME Billy and Stu did everything without being prompted. Ok that's all :)

In the first scream motives are important in the way that they aren't. By that I mean that there are three (if I remember correctly) "conversations" about Billy and Stu's motives. There's the first one, which starts by Billy stating that it's much scarier if there's no motive and, funnily enough, ends with him giving his "motive" (in quotations because I wanna talk about that later); there's the "don't you blame the movies!" bit, which I counted because I think that it does discuss motives in a way; and then there's Stu's "peer pressure, I'm far too sensitive". The thing about these three conversations is that they, in my opinion, don't give an answer to the question/accusation of a motive.

Let's start with the first one, that I think is the one that tries to get closer to it. As I said, there's two parts to this: first we have Billy saying that motives make things less scary, mentioning Norman Bates (which is sort of funny because Bates did have a motive -sort of. It depends on what you consider a valid motive, as it relies on mental illnes, something that is not rational (and also almost never happens in real life). I think something similar happens in scream, with the question of what is motive, but whatever. I digress.) and Hannibal Lecter. Almost immediately though, he starts to get into the REAL motive, at least for him: his father's affair with Maureen, and his mother's subsequent abandonment of him. What I think is interesting about this exchange is the elephant in the room. Sid asks "Why did you kill my mother?" and that's exactly what Billy answers. We, and Sid, are left with the question "ok, but why are you doing anything else?" Why did he and Stu kill Casey and Steve, the principal, Tatum, the camaraman (and to our knowdlege at the moment), Randy, Gale, and Dewey?

This question tries to sort of get answered later, with Sid's accusation of "you sick fucks, you've seen one too many movies", but it gets shot down immediately by Billy. He seems angry about it too, gets defensive saying that "movies don't make psychos, movies make psychos more creative!". This is not a wrong statement, however it is curious to me that he, of all people, says it, seen as earlier in the movie he says that "it's all just one big movie", and just minutes ago compared his motive with fictional characters. So him so outwardly denying any influence of movies in his motive is strange. I'll get back to this later.

The last conversation is the most direct one, and also the one that I think gets misinterpreted the most. Sid explicitly asks Stu for his motive, to which he answers "Peer pressure, I'm far too sensitive." This, to me, is clearly a joke. (Why? Well, for starters it simply doesn't make sense on a technical level. Peer pressure implies pressure to do something within a group of peers, to fit in or seem cool. Literally the only other person that was doing the murder was Billy, and that's not enough to be considered "peer pressure". It also doesn't make sense with the Stu we see mere minutes before, who is giggling all throught the kitchen scene and even says that "it was fun". Lastly, the sentence is humourous because there is a tendency to blame every bad act teenagers commit on peer pressure. Stu jokes constantly throught the movie, and even in his blood loss-ed state he was just doing that, making a stupid joke.) Many people seem to take this statement to mean that Billy pressured him into doing the murders, and while that's impossible to confirm or deny based on the little screen time Stu has in the movie, based on the fact thet the statement to me is a joke, I personaly don't think that's the case.

Ok, so that leaves us to the actual motives. So if Billy only gives his motive for killing Maureen, denys movies as a reason, and Stu only makes a joke about it, then why the fuck did they do it?

This is the point where I have to say that I think that, in the writing room, they don't have any. The same way as the writers never decided who did each kill, I don't think they really thought about why the boys did their murder spree, at least conciously. However, I think that autorial intent is not the end all be all, and speculating about fictional characters is fun, so I will be doing it either way.

Let's start with Stu, because I think that his reasons are less complicated. He's the one that I'm the most sure did not have a written reason, mostly because he is not as vital to the story (I'm so sorry for saying this he is literally my favorite character but it is what it is). I think that his "motive" is an aglomeration of different things, the main two being his "crazyness"(not actual crazyness as it is more of a legal term that he probably wouldn't apply for but you get what I mean) and his clear infatuation with Billy.

The first is probably the one with more intent behind it, seeing as the Stu we see in the movie acts in ways that support it (he is a serial killer after all). From the start of the movie we see how insensitive he is about Casey and Steve's killings, making a joke about it ("better liver alone!"). At that point in the movie we know nothing about the character, but that moment does come off as very suspicious even on a first watch, that being the joke of the scene. As we move forward we have the scene at the video store, the obvious scene that spells out who the killers are if you're open to the fact that there's two of them, in which we see how he enjoys messing with Randy, smiling and tugging at his earlobe. This is echoed later in the kitchen scene, in which he seems almost unbelivably happy. He plans to kill two of his friends and his girlfriend, acting compleatly normal towards them before the fact. Going back to the start of the movie, Casey and Steve's murders were very sadistic, both on the prelude (the calls and the "game") and the actual act, both of them being gutted. He also shows no remorse for any of it in the end of the movie, only being worried that his parents are gonna be mad. All of this to say that, even if sometimes the fandom likes to ignore it, he is a huge sadist, and that is most likely the main reason why he did the murders. In Casey's murder he also had the fact that she broke up with him, something he lied about, so we can deduce that the situation hurt his ego. The disproportionate reaction to it (murder) just comes to show how little regard he has for other people.

The second part of that I don't think was intentional. If I'm not mistaken Kevin Williamson spoke about it on an interview, stating that he, as a gay man, mostly subconciously put the queer subtext on Billy and Stu's relationship. However, subcouncious or not, it is in the movie (I actually want to make another stupidly long meta post about it), and it's what makes Stu as a character make sense to me. Whatever you think about what their dynamic is like, what is obvious is that this, the murders, are mostly for Billy. It is Billy who has the "motive", it is Billy's girlfriend they are tormenting, and it is Billy who moves the plot forward when he feels like it. All the while Stu seems more than happy to comply, going behind Randy at the video store, trapping Sid at the end of act three, giving Billy the knife whith a bow, going behind him and looking at him. I think that no matter what happened Stu would've become a killer later on, because as I've established he is a sadist, but the reason why he is doing this murders specifically is because of Billy.

Which leads me to Billy. What was going on with him? Honestly, I'm not compleately sure. To him, what happened with Maureen and the '96 spree are inextrincably linked, but I think everyone can see that there's actually not a real connection. Sid is not her mother, so Billy has no "logical" reason to torture her. My guess is a mix of jealousy, hatred/annoyance toward her and the others, the feeling of control, and well, sadisim. The jealousy aspect is pretty straightfoward: in his mind, it is her mother's fault that his mother left, so it is unfair that he has to be without her while she gets to have a mother. Seeing as he's he boyfriend he probably has to see that all the time too, and he most likely can't handle that (we see in the third act that he doesn't handle things not going his way very well). That leads to the control aspect: we have no way of knowing how he was before his mother left, but from what we see, I think that the murders were his way of taking back control after his mom left. He says in the movie that movies don't make psychos, that they make psychos more creative, and I think that the way it translates is in how he decided to take that control back. Of all of the things he could've done, he cose to make "a movie", except in real life. With acts and plot beats, and even a twist. Just murder probably wasn't enough for him, he needed to make something out of it, and what better victim than Sidney, Maureen's daughter. He seems to relish on the fact that he is the one in control of her situation ("you can't pick your genre"). Also, unlike Stu, he seems to actively dislike the friend group he's in, having a sort of disgusted face in the fountain scene, and clearly having a bad relationship with Tatum. He was most likely looking forward to getting rid of them, and exiting the situation as a survivor. Then there's also the thing that killing people definitely turns him on. I've seen a lot of people joke about the "I was watching The Exorcist and it made me think of you" line, making fun of the weird sentiment that watching "The Exorcist" might turn him on, and while I won't deny the jokes are funny, what some people seem to miss is that well, he wasn't watching The Exorcist. He was killing Casey and Steve with Stu. To me it's telling that both times we see him make out/have sex with Sid it's after it's implied he has just killed someone, first Casey/Steve and then Tatum (there's debate about who killed her, but I think that it being Billy just makes more sense time wise and also I don't know how else to explain the eyebrow bounce when he gets to the party). I think that this is something that defilitely affected his motive, and in real life many killers just got off on it (I also want to expand on this in a Stuilly post because there's Implications).

I also think that something else to be taken into account is that these are two white rich teenage boys. The way that they did it has a very strong entitlement air to it. They definitely think that they can get away with anything.

Both Kevin Williamson and Neve Capmbell have talked about their queer implications and how that might've affected their motive, and while I do want to touch on it in my incoming Stuilly Post, I don't think it was as relevant as some might think, or at least not in the way most people think.

In conclusion, Stu did it cause he's crazy and gay and Billy did it cause he's both a control freak and a freak. :)

If you have any thoughts about this PLEASE share them I really want to talk about it (as you can see)

I just wrote two thousand words about this please send help

#scream 1996 #stuilly #stu x billy #stu macher #billy loomis #meta post

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copingwithobsessions · 8 months

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Gotta love the fact that while all the Ghostface duos/trios worked alone most of the time (only one ghostface present during a murder or phone call except in some cases), Billy and Stu were constantly together for their Ghostface acts, literally (Casey and Steve's murders, Maureen's murder and the climax of the movie) or in spirit (Billy killing Tatum while Stu was at the party, Stu calling Tatum's house to get Billy off the suspect list)

#scream #scream 1996 #stuilly #billy loomis #stu macher #nancy loomis #jill roberts #mickey altieri #charlie walker #quinn bailey #wayne bailey #ethan landry #richie kirsch #amber freeman #scream franchise

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sharpth1ng · 2 months

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So, i was rereading Debaser, and the first time Stu fucked Billy, Billy says “you’re not going to fuck Tatum again”. Did he just not think about the fact that his guy was screwing someone else? Why did he say that THEN and not before? I ask because, with how jealous Billy always has been, i wouldve thought that he’d be murderous at the mere idea of Stu fucking around with someone other than himself. Like- Billy got a whole ass gf just bc he was mad that Stu lost his virginity. So like?? Why then and not before, why not when he started fucking Stu? 😭⁉️

The way I thought about this line it’s not really a command, it’s more a statement of celebration. It’s Billy remembering he’s killing Tatum the next day, and he’s not going to have to deal with her and Stu anymore. It’s also him making a verbal claim, like it’s almost dirty talk, he’s basically saying “you’re mine”.

Billy told Stu to date Tatum as a cover, but what he doesn’t say out loud is that it’s partly a cover for his relationship with Stu. Like yeah, it’s also because it looks better for Stu if he’s already moved on from Casey but also Billy tells him to start dating her right when things start to change between them. He’s paranoid about getting found out.

So yeah he’s definitely jealous, definitely aware that Stu and Tatum are fucking- he mentions it a few times even, like when he’s alone in his room after they kill Casey and Steve. But he sees Tatum as a necessity, and he’s aware of the fact that with Stu’s reputation it would look weird if he wasn’t having sex with his girlfriend.

So yeah, he’s been jealous all along but in this case he’s not mad at Stu because Stu’s just following his orders. Stu’s willing to let Billy kill Tatum, so she doesn’t really represent a credible threat to Billy. Stu might be fucking her but he’s still putting Billy first.

As his relationship with Stu has grown it’s gotten harder to put up with Tatum for the sake of the plan. So when Billy says “you’re not going to fuck Tatum again” it’s like when you quit a job and have that moment of excitement realizing you never have to show up for a shift again. He’s telling Stu explicitly how he feels. It’s a statement of desire as much as it’s a statement of possessiveness.

#damn that was a long explanation sorry #Billy rarely says exactly what he means #stuilly #debaser fanfic #debaser spoilers #ask

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travlersjoy444 · 1 year

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I love the incorrect quotes for Ralph and Don! Could you do Leo please? Thank you! \(^-^ )

Sure, sorry it took a bit lol

***

Leo: I can't take this anymore, someone needs to take me out!

(Y/N): In a dating type of way, or an assassination type of way?

Leo: I don't know, surprise me!

***

(Y/N): This date is boring!

Leo: This isn't a date. I said I was going on patrol.

(Y/N): Then why did you invite me?

Leo: I didn't, I specifically said "don't come with me," then you said, "fuck you Leo I'll do whatever I want!

***

(Y/N): Is something burning?

Leo, leaning seductively on the counter: Just my desire for you.

(Y/N): Leo, the toaster is literally on fire.

***

(Y/N): Are we fighting or flirting?

Leo: I'm pinning you against a wall with my hand around your neck-

(Y/N): Your point?

***

Leo: *eating a cinnamon roll*

(Y/N): Cannibalism.

Leo: *confused chewing noises*

***

Leo: Don’t worry, I know exactly what I’m doing. Everything is going to be fine!

(Y/N): How can you still say that?

Leo: Because sometimes, when things get tough, denial is all we have.

***

(Y/N): *makes Leo a cup of tea but puts salt in it*

Leo: *sips tea*

(Y/N):

Leo: *finishes tea*

(Y/N): Didn't it taste bad?

Leo: Yeah, but I didn't want to hurt your feelings so I drank it all.

(Y/N), tearing up: Oh, okay.

***

(Y/N): When I get murdered, can you make sure I become an unsolved case?

Leo: wHat?

(Y/N): I want to be on Buzzfeed Unsolved.

Leo: Can we go back to the part when you said "when I get murdered"?

***

(Y/N): Leo just said "I have an appetite for destruction" and then they reached down and untied my shoe.

***

Leo: There’s no “I” in team, but there is one in pizza.

(Y/N): So, you’re not going to share?

Leo: I’m not going to share.

***

Donnie: Why are your tongues purple?

(Y/N): We had slushies. I had a blue one.

Leo: I had a red one.

Donnie: oh.

Donnie:

Donnie: OH.

Mikey:

Mikey: You drank each other's slushies?

***

Leo: I love you.

(Y/N): I love you too. I've waited so long to hear you say that.

*Leo and (Y/N) kiss passionately*

Mikey, to Raph: You owe me 20 dollars.

***

Mikey: H-how do you ask someone out?

Leo: Well, first-

(Y/N): Don't ask them, they asked me out in a McDonalds parking lot.

Mikey: ...And you said yes?

***

*playing twister*

Raph: Right hand red.

(Y/N): *ends up on top of Leo*

Leo: You're doing this on purpose, aren't you?

Raph: I stopped spinning like 15 minutes ago. Honestly, I'm surprised you didn't notice.

***

*(Y/N) is telling a story*

Leo: Wow, (Y/N), this story has everything! Action! Adventure! Romance!

Mikey: Romance?

Leo: I have a crush on them.

***

Mikey: Guys, my friend here is bilingual.

(Y/N): Yes.

Mikey: Which means they like both boys and girls.

(Y/N): Ye- wait, what-

Leo: Mikey, that's not what bilingual means-

Mikey: Shhh, it's okay (Y/N). I still love you, man.

(Y/N) & Leo: ...

Mikey: bUT NOT LIKE THAT-

***

Donnie: I know you love them.

Leo: I am not in love with (Y/N)!

Donnie, staring at Leo: I never said who...

Leo: *realizes*

Leo: Shit. Well, anyways-

***

Raph: Goddamn it, the printer broke while printing out Leo's birthday invitations.

(Y/N): Well, what are they supposed to say?

Raph: "Leo's birthday".

(Y/N): So, what do they say instead?

Raph: "Leo’s bi".

(Y/N):

(Y/N): Works out either way.

***

*Leo teaching Mikey to drive and taking (Y/N) along for the ride*

Leo: That's a pothole. To the left!

Mikey: Take it back now y'all *Drives into pothole*

(Y/N), sticking their face into the front over the center console: Cha Cha real smooth.

Mikey: I don't think that's how the song goes.

Leo, crying and gripping the handle: Please just take me home.

Mikey: Country Roads.

(Y/N): To the place.

Mikey and (Y/N) in unison: I Belong!

Leo, crying harder: What the fuck?

***

(Y/N): You ever see something that changes your life and you're just like "huh.."

Leo: I saw you.

(Y/N): Honestly that's so cute and sweet but it kinda makes this awkward because I was gonna show you a picture of Casey in a turkey costume.

***

Mikey: What’s it like being tall?

Mikey: Is it nice?

Mikey: Can you reach comfortably for the cupboards?

(Y/N): We live in constant fear of the short ones who, in my experience, will climb 4 chairs, 2 boxes, a small coffee table and 6 oddly placed stools to get what they want.

Leo: That was one time!

***

(Y/N): It's pretty cold outside.. wanna hold hands? We should stay close.

Leo, blushing: Okay.

Raph: It's fucking summer.

***

Leo: Hi.

Mikey: Hey, did you do what I said? Did you tell them?

Leo: I did.

Mikey: And what did they say?

Leo: “Thank you.”

Mikey: You’re totally welcome. What’d they say?

Leo: They said, “Thank you.” I said “I love you” and (Y/N) said, “Thank you.”

***

Leo: This is bothering me.

(Y/N): Well, you are digging up a corpse.

Leo: No, not that. That's, uh, pretty par for the course, actually.

***

(Y/N): Please, I'm begging you to go to a doctor.

Leo: I'm sorry is this OUR stab wound? Stay out of it.

***

Leo, addressing the squad: And if you have any suggestions feel free to put them in the suggestion box.

(Y/N): But – that’s just a trash can?

Leo: It sure is!

***

(Y/N): I learned some very valuable lessons from this.

Leo: I’m guessing they are all horrible distortions on the lessons you actually should’ve taken away.

(Y/N): Death isn’t real, and I’m basically God.

***

Leo: This is such a bad idea.

(Y/N): Then why are you coming along?

Leo: One of us needs to be able to talk the cops out of arresting us when this inevitably goes wrong.

***

Leo: The stars are so beautiful...

(Y/N): They're just giant balls of gas.

Leo: You know what, if you're just going to ruin this, then-

(Y/N): And yet none of them are as huge as my love for you.

Leo: Oh…

***

(Y/N): I love you.

Leo, not paying attention: What was that?

(Y/N): I said I’m selling you to the zOo-

***

Leo: Hey, random question, what are your favorite flowers?

(Y/N): Peonies, why?

Leo:

(Y/N): Were you going to get me flowers?

Leo:

(Y/N):

Leo: ᶦᵗ’ˢ ᵃ ᵖᵒˢˢᶦᵇᶦˡᶦᵗʸ

#tmnt x reader #tmnt 2012 x reader #reader insert #gender neutral reader #gn!reader #tmnt leo x reader #tmnt 2012 leo x reader #leonardo x reader #tmnt 2012 leo #2k12 leo x reader #2k12 leo

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