#scream x reader
yesimwriting · 2 days ago
Final Girl (Part 5)
A/n she’s here and she’s big enough to probably have been two parts lol, so feel free to carve out some you time to absorb all of this, also there are scene breaks in this one like in chapter 4, but no smut warnings!!
also feedback is always super appreciated :))
Part 5 to:  Final Girl (Part 1)  Final Girl (Part 2) Final Girl (Part 3)   Final Girl (Part 4)  
Series Summary:  Y/n can’t believe that she has to leave the only home she’s ever known just because her mom’s latest boyfriend has a house in some town in California. Just as she’s starting to think that Woodsboro might not be that bad, something life altering happens after she agrees to sleep over at  Becker’s house. Now her name is practically synonymous with Ghostface’s. 
Chapter Summary: Billy and Stu are throwing a party that's basically couple's only. Good thing a guy in Y/n's english class is always trying to ask her out...and a good thing that Gloria isn't around to stop Y/n from raiding her closet.
What. The. Fuck.
Like actually.
The first thing I registered when I woke up was the sunlight that slipped in past my curtains. The second thing I registered was how comfortable I was. I don't think I've been this comfortable sleeping since what happened to Casey. The third thing I registered was the hand on my back and arm.
I'm half curled into Billy, and Stu's asleep on his back, my arm pulled to his chest. Okay--this isn't the most shocking thing ever. There was alcohol yesterday, and drunk me is touchy. The fact that we all passed out in bed isn't shocking. What’s shocking is the fact that it’s...weirdly nice. 
This is the first time since Casey’s that I slept through the night without a nightmare. Was that because of the presence of other people or alcohol, I’m not sure, but either way the feeling of a full night of rest is refreshing.
I start to sit up slowly, doing my best not to shift enough to disturb either of them. Before my spine can straighten, a firm touch on my back has me moving back down. I slump against Billy, throwing a more confused than truly annoyed glare in his direction. “Billy.” 
“What?” The question is mumbled, Billy doesn’t even bother looking at me. “I’m comfortable.”
Rolling my eyes, I briefly consider pushing away from him, but he does have a point. It is comfortable, and he’s warm. “That makes one of us.” 
At that, he opens his eyes just enough to squint. I take a deep breath, a little too aware of the way he’s looking at me. Even jokingly lying to Billy feels exposing. I always feel like he can instantly tell.
He doesn’t call me out on it. At least, not directly, “You seemed comfortable last night.” The comment is just a tiny bit more suggestive than it needs to be. I sit up just enough to softly smack his chest. “You’re the one that fell asleep on me,” he defends, “So asleep that you snored.” 
My jaw drops in offense. “I do not snore.” 
The indignation in my whisper makes him grin. “Why are you whispering?” I tilt my head in Stu’s direction. As far as I can tell, he’s dead asleep and not loosening his hold on my arm any time soon.  Billy’s gaze briefly flits over to Stu’s sleeping form. “He sleeps through everything.” When I don’t ease, Billy continues, “He slept through all that snoring.” 
If looks could kill, I’d be a murderer. “You’re getting kicked out.” 
“You’re mean in the mornings.”
“It’s not the morning, it’s...” I sit up a little more, looking at the digital alarm clock on my nightstand. “It’s 12:09. Wow, I really passed out.” 
My mind begins to work in overdrive as I try to remember as many details about last night as possible. The gist of it is pretty clear, but what if I’m missing something? 
“Don’t worry,” Billy says, reading my face easily, “You were fine. A little touchy, but you fell asleep right after The Shining.” 
If I’m remembering correctly, I wasn’t the only one being a little too touchy. “Right.” 
“What’s wrong?” 
Eyes focusing on nothing in particular, I mull over my options. It’s not like there’s anything particular for me to complain about. I don’t remember being beyond uncomfortable or anything, just a little bit unsure. And I really don’t want to ruin everything by overreacting when I’m not even sure what my problem is. 
“Nothing.” My fingers move, nervously tracing the floral pattern of my sheets. “The morning after drinking feels weird.” 
“I thought it wasn’t the morning.” He barely pays any attention to the way I roll my eyes. “What are you thinking about?” 
“Nothing, really.” I sit up, tugging my arm away from Stu as gently as I can. The space makes it easier to organize my thoughts. “Just thinking about yesterday feels a little weird. I don’t think I was the touchiest person last night.” My eyes awkwardly flit towards the one person that’s still asleep.
Billy shifts, watching me carefully. “He had been drinking since before I got to his place. He was moody, something about his sister and his parents.”
At that, I freeze, my breath catching itself in my throat. Mentions of their families, of what their dynamics are like beneath public perception, are rare...and always a little heartbreaking. “Oh.” 
“I wouldn’t bring it up.” His warning isn’t needed. Early on, I learned that this is the one topic I can’t get away with talking about. Still, I nod. “And you know how he is, a ‘knock it off’ is a joke until he’s beyond sure you’re serious. Especially with you.” 
My eyes snap away from the even rise and fall of Stu’s chest. “Especially with me?” 
Billy’s hesitant, thinking over his words. “Your attention means a lot to him.” 
I can’t bring myself to look at Billy. I can’t bring myself to do anything but stare at Stu. “Still,” I mumble after a second, “Boundaries.” 
“I’ll bring it up to him when he’s more receptive.” Probably a good idea. The last thing I want is to push Stu when he’s going through something that he’s sensitive about. Maybe my silence comes off as hesitance because Billy continues, “You know he’d never do anything to hurt you on purpose.” 
“Yeah.” I do know that, but I’m starting to feel like that doesn’t excuse everything. There are things that matter more than intentions. It’s hard to be mad at Stu when he’s asleep. When he’s this relaxed, he looks smaller, almost more vulnerable. 
From what I’ve pieced together through bits and pieces, Stu’s parents are rarely around physically, and when they do come home, they don’t exactly express a lot of interest in their son. I’ve heard even less about Stu’s sister. I only know she exists because of the one time I went to Stu’s house. There was a framed photo of a girl, and when Stu mumbled something about a sister, my surprise was clear. 
Growing up, I had always wanted a sibling, so I got a little excited. Stu’s reaction let me know that my enthusiasm wasn’t taken the right way. I didn’t get it until Billy mentioned that Leslie isn’t Stu’s favorite topic. He told me enough to let me know that it has to do with parental approval and attention.
Even though the way Stu acted yesterday was confusing and out of bounds, knowing where his head was at makes it harder to be upset at him.
Deciding that I don’t want to think about this anymore, I fold my hands on my lap.“How long do you think it’ll take him to wake up?”
“There’s no telling with Stu.” Billy moves so that he’s sitting up fully.
Frowning, I let out a too dramatic sigh. “I wanted pancakes.” 
The corner of Billy’s lips turn upwards. “You wanted pancakes the last time you were hung over.”
I lean back, my arm supporting my weight. “Not hungover,” I defend, “Just want pancakes. They’re the perfect after-drinking food.” 
“We can wake him up.” 
“Don’t.” Billy’s arm is already half extended, I grab his wrist, my words a whispered hiss, “He said he hasn’t been sleeping great. Let him get some rest.” 
Billy’s regarding me in a way that leaves me still. I think he might have found something about that amusing. “Protective.” 
I roll my eyes. “He needs his sleep.” Stu isn’t the best at taking care of himself. What teenage boy is? And it’s not like his parents are checking in on him.
Okay, staring at Stu while he sleeps is weird of me. I turn my head to look at Billy. The bags under his eyes are made more prominent by the light coming in through my window. And is it just me looking for an excuse to worry or does he seem thin? Now that I’m thinking about it, I can’t think of anyone that’d be really looking out for Billy either. 
The few things he’s mentioned about his dad don’t make him seem like a caretaker, especially considering that up until kinda recently, Billy’s mom was around. “Are you getting enough sleep?” 
Oh my god, did I just ask that out loud? Billy turns his head, eyes softening just a little. “Worried about me?” Ugh, this is what I get for being nice. I cross my legs, eyeing him cautiously. “I sleep okay.” Before I can respond, Billy tacts on, “You?” 
“Fine,” I reply too quickly, “Better before the whole thing with Casey.” Scratching the inside of my wrist, I try to force away the images that come to mind. It’s strange, how quiet the killer and the case as a whole have been. “But I guess that’s normal.”
Billy reaches forward, long fingers wrapping around my wrist before I can pick at the skin too much. “If you can’t sleep and you need something to do, you can call me.” 
The offer is comforting. “Thanks, you’re a good friend.” His touch is warm, anchoring. “You both are. Not to make things weird, but you guys have been really helpful through all of this.”
“That doesn’t make things weird.” His response is delayed. 
I look up, hoping to get a little more out of his expression, but his head is angled downwards. He’s staring at my sheets. “Let’s go make pancakes.” 
Billy sits up even more before standing. I follow him, careful to not bother Stu as I move off of the bed. “You’re going to leave him here unsupervised?” 
It’s clearly a joke, but I still shrug as I consider my response. “If he wakes up and decides to be nosy and look through my drawers, all he’ll find is proof of my sticky note addiction.” 
This is nothing like what happened that night. I repeat that in my head again and again as I watch the stove. This isn’t like Casey’s and there are too many differences for me to feel like this. 
It’s daytime. What happened at Casey’s was late at night. And I-I wasn’t really using a pan, it was just Jiffy Pop. There have been no weird phone calls. There’s been nothing. I’m fine. 
I repeat the differences between now and then in my head like a mantra as I pour the pancake batter. It sizzles as it expands into the form of a lopsided circle. Forcing my focus to remain on what’s in front of me, I grab the spatula, lifting the pancake’s side to check how cooked the bottom side is. 
“Almost done?” 
“Patience is a virtue.”
Billy lets out a breath, supporting his weight with his arms as he leans against the kitchen counter. “You okay?”
I nod, tilting the pan slightly. “When it happened,” my knuckles lighten as I tighten my grip on the pan’s handle, “When Casey got that first call, I was standing in front of her stove.” Shaking my head to dismiss the potential downward spiral, I lift the edge of the pancake. “I can’t freak out every time I’m behind a stove for the rest of my life.” 
“It hasn’t been that long,” Billy says patiently.
I flip the pancake. The loud hiss that follows leads me down a different road of memories. “I have good stove memories, too.” A weird thing to say, but it’s better than what I was thinking of. “When I was little, my mom didn’t have anyone to watch me and I was a terror unless I had something to do. So she used to sit me down on the counter next to the hot stove and had me mix the batter. It became such a thing she’d even put me on the counter when she was just baking. My mom went through a real baking phase from the time she was pregnant until around the time I started school.” 
Lifting the pancake from the pan and onto the plate, I look up at Billy before pouring some more batter onto the pan. There’s a pensive quality to his expression that’s vaguely familiar. It reminds me of that brief second in the hospital after my mom came in. What had I called that look then? Wistful. “I used to trail my mom around the kitchen. She’d pretend to let me help her.” Focusing on the spatula in my hand, I try to keep my expression casual. “That was awhile ago.” 
I abandon the utensil on the counter. Not being able to help myself, I turn and let myself look at him. What happened to his mother? She always comes up fleetingly, in ways that make it clear it’s a sensitive topic. I don’t think she’s passed away, the energy he reserves for her is too touchy. Maybe a messy divorce? I still remember that one summer my dad petitioned the court for custody and how much that sucked.
He’s closer than I realized. My hand reaches for his. He lets me intertwine our fingers. “Billy...” Thee’s something I should say. Something comforting and not pushy. Nothing good comes to mind. My thoughts are clouded by Billy’s eyes. My lips part, because he’s waiting for me to say something. 
The smell of burning snaps me out of it. Snapping my head towards the stove, I release Billy’s hand. I yank the pan off of the stove and quickly drop it into the sink. Turning on the water, I begin fanning out the smoke. “Great, the one thing my mom told me not to do was trigger the fire alarm again.” 
Turning away from the sink, I halfheartedly glare at Billy. “Long story and I’m not as responsible for it as that made me sound.” 
He eyes me skeptically, taking a step forward. “Really?” 
Before I can think of a response or get too lost in thought, an unexpected, tired voice interrupts us. “What are you guys up to?” 
“Stu!” I grin, leaning against the counter. “We’re making pancakes.” 
At that, Stu blinks, glancing at Billy, then at the still smoking pan, and finally, at me. “Really?” 
“Trying to, at least,” I correct, “I’m way better at making them than it looks right now.”
Stu walks towards us with lazy steps. “I’m sure.” He ignores my pointed look, walking further into the room until he’s practically within reach. Stu extends an arm, vaguely reaching for me. I give in, closing the distance between us. He’s quick to wrap his arms around me gently. “Morning, angel.” 
“Morning? It’s like 12:30.” 
He runs his hand up and down my back for a second before I slip out of his grasp gently. “You’re the one making pancakes.” 
I return to the sink, scraping the burnt pancake batter off of the pan. “Fair.” I turn off the sink after everything’s clean enough for me to start working again.
Reaching forward, I grab a few pieces of popcorn from the bowl that Stu stole from me. He turns his head, jokingly narrowing his eyes. “Hey, I made that.”
I pop a piece into my mouth. “Because I asked you to.”
“First, you make us watch this movie and now you’re stealing my popcorn.”
“First off, I didn’t make you watch this. You made a hospital bed promise to watch Clueless with me. You can’t back out of hospital bed promises, that’s like, karmic bad luck.” I pull my legs beneath me, sitting up a little more. “Second, it’s my popcorn, all you did was pop it. And I made you pancakes earlier!” 
He shifts, pulling the plastic bowl towards him a little more. “Popping is the popcorn, without that it’s just kernels.” He ignores my glare. “Sorry, babe, but it’s mine.”
My last two pieces of popcorn go into my mouth. “Fine--if I say its yours, will you share?”
Stu sinks further into my couch, weighing his options. After a second, he shifts the bowl, leaning it in my direction. “Only for you.”
“We’re watching a movie.” Billy’s whisper is a little bit sharper than usual, irritated.
Billy being the kind of person to shush people for the smallest things during a movie makes sense. Even last night when I was basically wasted, he gave me a dirty look for mumbling something a little too loudly during The Shining. But that was the kind of movie he cares about.
I watch him as he stares at the TV. “Did you just shush me during Clueless?” He doesn’t react, just continues watching. I dramatically gasp, eyes widening. “Oh my god,” I don’t bother hiding the grin in my voice, “Are you, Billy Loomis, liking Clueless?”
“If you’re going to make me watch something, you should at least let me pay attention.” I press my hand against my mouth in an attempt to suppress a laugh. He is so busted. “If you don’t stop looking at me like that, I’m leaving.”
Holding my hands up in defense, I force myself to turn. “There’s nothing wrong with--”
“I’m leaving.”
“No!” My hand stretches forward, grabbing Billy’s arm. “It was a joke. I’ll stop. Promise.”
Billy looks at me skeptically for a long second. Cher says something to Dionne, and his eyes flit towards the screen, betraying him. “Fine,” he mumbles dismissively, attention already leaving me. 
The second this movie is over, he’s never hearing the end of it. Oh, maybe if I play my cards right I’ll be able to get him to watch Breakfast at Tiffany’s. Unlikely, but I can dream. 
I don’t know how the late morning turned into us watching a movie, but the company’s nice. I’m not used to an empty house and Billy and Stu are the kind of people that are hard to get tired of. Stu’s sense of humor becomes a little much after awhile, but telling him off is half the fun. 
Billy relaxes against the couch, his arm eases as he turns over his palm. He intertwines our fingers before I can pull my arm back. 
With the exception of a few comments Stu mumbled under his breath, the rest of the movie is watched with no interruptions. By the end of it, Stu’s head is on my shoulder and Billy’s still loosely holding my hand. 
“I really promised you I’d watch that.” Rolling my eyes, I softly elbow Stu’s side. “Mean.” Before I can scold him for starting it, he moves on, “When is your mom getting back?” 
Weird question, but I guess not too weird for Stu. “Um, Tuesday after school, right after the long weekend.” A part of me wishes we had school on Monday, at least it’d be something to do while I wait for my mom to come home. The more time I spend with people, the safer I feel. “Why? Do you have plans that’d get me in trouble or something?” 
He moves away enough to look at me before throwing an arm around my shoulders. “I’ll get you in trouble whenever, angel.” Stu squeezes my arm, looking me over with a suggestive glint behind his eyes. “Except for tonight. Billy boy and I have places we need to be. Big, empty house plans.” 
Oh. It’s not like I expected them to spend all weekend with me, but the vagueness of the statement makes me feel a little awkward. “‘Big empty house plans’ sounds like a code for an orgy.” 
“Someone’s jealous.” 
I half-scoff-half-laugh, “Of your orgy?” 
Stu’s fingers press into the skin of my arm again. This time, the touch is a little firmer and less easy going. He raises his eyebrows up and down teasingly.
“Not an orgy,” Billy corrects, throwing a look at Stu that comes and goes so quickly, I can’t even start to interpret it, “Just a hangout with some guys and their girlfriends.” 
I might not have the most experience with having friends that are (semi-)popular, and being left out of secret plans is a sore spot for me, but that sounds a little too much like: ‘Stu’s throwing a party that we don’t want to tell you about.’ But that’s a lot to assume from one sentence. “Still sounds like an orgy.” 
“I’d invite you to my orgy,” Stu hums almost sweetly, his hand moving up and down my arm. 
I shrug out of his grasp. “Really?” 
“Eh.” Stu tries holding onto me as I continue to scoot away from him. “But only because an orgy’s a rough way to lose your virginity.” 
Wow. Heat rushes to my face and the only thing that I’m thinking about is that I can’t just sit here silently. “What makes you think I’m a virgin?” Bad idea. Bad idea. Bad, bad idea. I shouldn’t humor him because now I’m going to have to have a conversation about virginity. “I was hot shit in Texas.” 
There’s some odd quality to Stu’s grin. If I didn’t know better, I’d feel like he was baring his teeth. “You’re still hot shit, babe, that has nothing to do with it.” He answers my unspoken question before I can think to change the subject, “With the way your mom is about guys and how you listen to h--” 
“I don’t always listen to my mom.” God, I’ve never felt like more of a little kid. “I-I drink and I don’t tell her about it.” 
“But you’re mom’s okay with drinking.” My head turns towards Billy. “The first time I came over she was trying to convince you to get wine drunk with her so that you could watch some movies together.” 
Do my mom and I enjoy the occasional tipsy movie night? Yes. Did Billy come over to work on a project with me while my mom was in the middle of trying to convince me to do just that? Yes. Did I need that thrown into my face right now? 
Absolutely not. “What’s your point?” 
“You always listen to your mom, it’s just not a problem because she basically lets you do whatever.”
Damn. Billy’s completely right, and so is Stu. I’ve never had sex or a boyfriend. I’ve never even had a first kiss because the one time I almost did at Chloe Woods’s 13th birthday party I freaked out and didn’t. They can never know that. 
“Okay, I’m done talking to you guys about whether I have or haven’t had sex.” Scratching the back of my wrist, I try to keep my face just slightly annoyed. “And it’s weird that you’re connecting it so much to my mom.” I need a change of topic, and I need one fast. I think through all of the potential topics and how to throw this back at them. “Is that thing you’re doing at your house tonight the couples only thing a bunch of football players are going to?” 
Stu’s smug grin turns, taking on an undertone that feels mean. “Pieced that together. You gonna put amateur detective on your journalism school application?”
I shrug, not loving this energy. “A few guys in my English class were talking about it on Tuesday.” The more time I spend with Stu and Billy, the more I notice their pension for staring when they want you to say more. “I forgot about it until Noel Thompson brought it up.” 
“When did you talk to Noel Thompson?” Billy’s question comes out in a way that almost seems like an accusation. 
“Uh, Friday, I’m pretty sure.” I scratch softly at my knee. “He came by to give me the homework I missed, which was nice because Mrs. Tegan assigned us another essay.” After a second, I meet Billy’s gaze, “He asked me if I wanted to go, I said I wasn’t really up for anything big, but he left his number in case I changed my mind.” 
Oh! I have his number, maybe I could still go. Noel’s nice, and it’s not like I’ve ever been asked out before. Plus, he’s like the only guy in my English class that doesn’t have super sexist takes on our readings. “Oh, now that I know it’s at your place, maybe I should call him. That could be fun since you guys and Sid and Tate are gonna be there.”
“Noel Thompson yells a lot,” Billy says, voice weirdly low, “You’re too sensitive to go out with him.” 
He doesn’t seem like the yelling type, but Billy’s demeanor keeps me from correcting him. “I wouldn’t be dating him, it’s just one party.” 
“We never said it was a party.”
“Noel did.” I bite my tongue a second too late. The reaction came out too quickly. It makes me look defensive. 
Stu’s touch on my forearm nearly makes me jump. “So you want to believe Noel because he came over to your house to flirt with you?” Not what happened, and before I can even open my mouth to defend myself, Stu continues, “I wasn’t going to say anything, but since you’re being naive, I feel like I have to tell you. Noel broke up with his last three girlfriends like a week after fucking them for the first time.”
Nails digging into the skin of my palm, I find it nearly impossible to meet Stu’s stare. “If you don’t want me there or don’t want me going with you, that’s fine, but don’t lie to me like I’m stupid.” What’s with them? One minute, they’re the sweetest, and then the next, they’re trying to parent me. “I get that it’s probably not fun to know that your friend’s a disaster when she drinks because then you feel like you need to babysit her, but I won’t be your problem tonight.”
“You’re always our problem.” 
I try pulling my arm away from Stu, but he’s holding on too tight. “Excuse me?” 
“Like you’re not going to come crying to us the second he tries something you don’t like.” 
Didn’t realize my friendship was so annoying considering that they literally snuck into my house last night. “If you don’t want me telling you about things anymore, congratulations, because I won’t.” I try yanking my arm away again, this time being more firm about it. Stu’s grip is too much, and for the first time ever, that sends a pinprick of nerves through me. “Stu, let go.” 
Billy places a hand over Stu’s. At that, Stu loosens his hold on me. “Stu’s just saying we don’t like seeing you upset.” There’s something about Billy’s calmness that bugs me. It’s feels as forced as the voice I used when I worked at the mall and a woman I couldn’t yell at kept snapping at me. “Noel’s an asshole, ask Sid if you want. He creeps her out.” 
That’s likely true. Sid gave me a bit of a ‘be careful’ look when she saw me talking to him after class once. “I appreciate the concern, but it’s not a big deal. It’s not even an actual date.” 
“It’s not a good idea,” Billy continues, “He’s going to hurt you.”
“I get that you’re worried, and that’s nice of you, but I can handle myself.” 
Stu releases my arm completely, sinking into himself, “We just want a night where it’s just us and our girlfriends. You’re around all the time.”
My lips part, but no words come out. Nothing angry or considerate, just silence. I’m 14 again and finding out that while I called all my friend’s houses asking if they wanted to hang out, they were out together. I’m 12 again and fighting with my mom, defending my dad for standing me up on my birthday just to find out that she lied for him. He wasn’t working. He was at my stepsister’s cello recital. 
Every moment in which I’ve been too much. Too attached, too needy, too dependent on others hits me at full force. And it hurts. And it’s unfair...it’s not like I ask them to be around all the time. I didn’t ask them to come over last night. 
But I do involve myself in a lot of the things they do with Sid and Tatum. Mall trips, coffee runs, movie nights. Sometimes Randy’s there as well, but there have been times where I just kinda involved myself. 
I thought we were all friends and that no one minded. This wouldn’t be the first time I made that mistake. Is this just a Stu and Billy thing or do Tatum and Sidney feel the same way? 
“We can do something tomorrow.” Billy’s voice is still patient, but it doesn’t feel fake anymore. I can’t tell if that makes me feel better or worse. “I’ll drive you to the big bookstore on the other side of town.” 
That’s something I’d normally jump at. It’s one of the worst parts of having no license. No one ever wants to take me to the big bookstore because it’s far and I take forever. There’s nothing more time consuming than me in a bookstore with a cafe inside of it. 
I nod. “Yeah, that’d be nice.” Billy’s eyes are heavy on me. I don’t like it. “Maybe--I um, I have a lot of homework I want to get done before my mom gets back. She takes up a lot of time after trips, no matter how small. She has a thing about taking pictures.” 
“Don’t be mad at me, Stu’s the one that said it.” 
“Like you’ve never said it.” 
Great, now I have to think of them talking about how annoying and clingy I am. “I’m not mad.” 
“Stu’s an idiot, he only said that so that you’d be mad at both of us.” Billy’s words are too carefully picked. He didn’t deny thinking that. “You can do your school stuff tonight, that way we can go tomorrow.”
“Yeah, that’s a good idea.” I need to act more okay about all of this before they accuse me of making a big deal about this. It’s bad enough that they already think I’m clingy. “You know I should probably start soon and I’m feeling kinda tired.” 
Billy turns to face forward. “You’re kicking us out.” 
His voice sounds so small I’d backtrack if it wasn’t for my thoughts. “I’m feeling weird, I’m not sure you’re supposed to drink with a concussion, which could explain why I got drunk so fast yesterday. I think I need a nap before I start working on anything.” I stare at my lap. “That way I’ll have time to finish it all before tomorrow. Besides, you guys have that thing to get ready for.”
At that, Billy seems to unfreeze. He nods. “Yeah, you’re right.” He moves to stand. “I’ll call you tomorrow.” 
“Yeah, sounds good.”
Stu gets up without looking at me. Whatever his problem is. Who is he to call me clingy when he literally got drunk and demanded to stay at my house last night? I say one last goodbye and the two of them leave. 
Never have I wanted to talk to my mom and dissect an interaction more, but I can’t without getting into the whole thing. I could edit out the details so that she doesn’t kill me, but I don’t want to get into all of that. Lying and keeping things from her isn’t my strong suit, and I don’t have the energy. 
Maybe I should just do homework. 
“Oh my god, you know what you have to do, right?” Hallie’s voice rings so loudly throughout the phone’s receiver that I have to push it away. “And if you say homework, I’m hanging up and never talking to you again. Please tell me you’re not doing homework.” 
I frown at the essay in front of me. “You’ve been friends with me long enough to know that that’s my go to panic move.” 
Hallie and I have been each other’s go to’s since we met in the first grade. I had been having a terrible day, and then when Samantha Colts made fun of me for reading during recess, Hallie pushed her off the swings. The teacher asked me if I saw what happened and I said I didn’t see anything. It was my first lie to an authority figure and Hallie’s first time hurting someone for me. 
“Okay, but this is different. You can’t let guys walk all over you like that. if you let them get away with it once, they will do it a thousand times.” Not only did I call Hallie because of how close we are, I also called her because she’s always so opinionated when it comes to guys. Not that this is really a ‘guy’ situation, because it’s not like I’m dating them. But still, they’re boys, and I’ve never cared about a guy’s opinion so much before. “You need to hang up on me, call that football player, and show up, looking super hot. Don’t acknowledge Billy or Stu unless they walk up to you and then be like ‘oh, haven’t noticed you, I’ve been busy.’” 
Do I want to do that? I mean, it’d be fun to get in a jab about that whole clingy thing, but it’s conflictive, and arguing with them is exhausting. “I don’t know.” 
“Well, I do,” she continues, “Go to that party in the outfit Gloria wore to chaperon our middle school dance. The one that almost got her called into the principal’s office.” 
Ugh...my mom was about to turn 30 when I was in middle school, and the crisis of leaving her 20s showed. “It’s late, Noel probably already has a date.” 
“So? Tell him that your schedule just cleared up and that you’re a better time than whoever he’s replaced you with.” I love Hallie, but she’s not like me. When she wants someone, she has them wrapped around her finger in an instant. “You’re just using that as an excuse. Go out, have fun, make them eat their hearts out.” 
I roll my eyes. “They’re not going to care that much. They have girlfriends, remember? It’s not like that.” 
“Guys are weird about seeing you with other guys, even if you’re just friends. It’s like a psychological thing, like they want you around as an option or think that you’re gonna get stollen or something. I don’t know. People have studied it.” 
While I doubt that, she’s never given me bad boy advice before. “I just don’t want this one thing to ruin our friendship. Maybe I should give them the space they want.” I groan, going from sad to angry. “You know what, screw them. If they don’t want to be friends with me anymore than who needs them?”
“No, those are your daddy issues talking. Just because you’re mad at a guy doesn’t mean you’re never going to talk again.” After a second of silence, Hallie asks, “Are Billy and Stu hot? I’m imagining them really hot.” 
This is the exact kind of question Hallie would ask, but I can’t help feeling embarrassed. “Hallie, they have girlfriends, remember?” 
“Doesn’t answer my question.”
Sighing dramatically, I cautiously eye my room as I pull the receiver even closer to my face. “Yes, they’re hot.” 
She squeals. “I knew it. I cannot wait until I visit.”
The thought of Hallie meeting either Billy or Stu makes my stomach feel unsettled. She earned the nickname Hurricane Hallie when we were kids for a reason. She likes to flit in, let others get wrapped up in the storm when they should be bunkering down, and then she disappears, leaving you alone with the aftermath. I love her, but I don’t want her interfering with my life here just yet. 
“Yeah, hot guys with girlfriends, your speciality.” 
I can practically feel her eye roll. “Yep, that’s me,” she plays along sarcastically, “Now quit stalling and call him. I’m hanging up before you can change your mind. And wear something hot for me, okay?” 
“Yeah, yeah, I’ll dress up all pretty just for you.” 
She giggles, “Alright, love ya. Call me tomorrow with the details.” 
“Okay, wi--” Before I can finish my good byes, Hallie hangs up. She’s smart, she knew I was like two seconds away from talking myself out of this. 
With a sigh, I flip over the English packet Noel dropped off on Friday. He scribbled his number on the back. I dial it before I can panic. After two rings, he answers. “Hello?” 
“Uh, hi, Noel, it’s me, Y/n, from English.” Ugh--I can feel Hallie facepalming from states away. “I know it’s kinda last minute, but I was wondering if you still wanted to go to that thing?” 
Those freaking liars. 
This is a damn party, and honestly, I’m offended that they thought they could get away with lying to me about this. It’s not like I’m social classes below them. At least, not all the time. At the very least, they should have considered that Sidney and Tatum could have brought it up to me. 
Honestly, this whole thing is starting to feel weird. Who throws a party that’s couples only? It feels like the kind of thing old married couples would say to get a group of swingers over to their house. Now I’m starting to feel weird. 
“You look really pretty, by the way.” Noel’s voice snaps me out of my train of thought. “I don’t think I told you that earlier.” 
I smile warmly, feeling the slightest bit easier. I went full in with Hallie’s advice and dug through my mom’s closet until I found her go to chaperoning outfit. Pink, low cut halter top paired with a pink mini skirt. Nothing flashy, just mildly suggestive. “Thank you.” 
He gestures towards Stu’s house with a nod of his head. “You wanna go in?” 
Bracing myself for what I hope won’t be a too drastically eventful night, I nod and let him lead me into the house. The second we step inside, the fact that this is most definitely, undeniably a party hits me at full force. From Noel’s truck, I could hear music coming from the house, but this is something else all together. The energy is absolutely magnetic. So magnetic that when Noel comes back from the kitchen and hands me a beer, I don’t think twice before drinking some.
I’m about halfway done with my third (maybe?) drink when a high pitched, “Y/n!” steals my attention.
I turn, searching for the source of the sound. Oh, it’s Tatum. Am I mad at her? What Stu said kind of made it seem like everyone was getting tired of me. I guess the only thing I can do is act normal until I figure it out. “Tate!” 
She runs up to me in a tipsy-enthusiastic way. I let her pull me into a hug. “I was starting to miss you. I even wanted to call you to come over but Stu hasn’t given me a minute.”  
The mention of Stu’s name leaves me feeling awkward. I almost didn’t notice him lingering around Tatum until she mentioned it. He places an arm around her shoulders, squeezing her even tighter as she giggles and pretends to push him away. “I’ve missed you, Tay.”
She rolls her eyes, pulling on Stu’s shirt slightly. “Boys are overrated. We should have a girls day soon.” 
That sounds nice, especially since I don’t think I’ll be spending as much time around Billy and Stu. “Yeah, we should go get our nails done or something soon.” 
“Yes,” she grins, “Oh my god, are you here with Noel Thompson? We saw you walk in with him earlier, I wanted to say ‘hi’ then, but I lost you.” 
Okay, maybe Tatum’s a little more than just tipsy. “That’s okay,” I giggle, “And yeah, I’m here with Noel, he’s just grabbing another drink. He came to my place to bring me some homework from English and then asked me if I wanted to come with him.” 
“Oh, that’s cute,” she hums, “Just be careful, though. I’ve heard enough girls crying over him in the school bathroom.” 
Stu’s lack of attention is starting to feel pointed as he continues to be all over Tate. I guess that’s what he wants tonight, but he could come up for air long enough to say hi. Whatever, if he doesn’t want to talk to me, I don’t want to talk to him. 
“I know, I know. It’s casual.” 
“Good,” she agrees, “I’m gonna go get another drink, but you should find Sidney when you get the chance, she missed you, too.” 
Oh. Both Sid and Tate wanted me here. So Stu and Billy are the ones that have problems with me. Tate circles her way out of Stu’s grasp, laughing and throwing a look over her shoulder once she finally escapes. After she disappears into the crowd, I’m left alone with Stu. 
Just when I’m about to break and say something to him, Noel returns, swinging an arm over my shoulder and pulling me towards him. “Hey, you wandered off.” 
“Hi,” I grin, “Sorry, I saw someone I knew.”
“Oh, you’re friends with Macher?” Noel turns to look at Stu, who seems to snap out of a level of aloofness. “How you doing, man? I meant to check in after the whole Casey thing. I know you guys broke up awhile ago, but still, it’s gotta hurt.” 
Wait--did Noel just say Stu used to date Casey? 
How has that not come up? He was literally in the hospital with me after--? I guess that explains why he wasn’t thrilled when he saw me talking to her after homeroom. No one likes it when their friends talk to their exes, but not mentioning it at all? That’s weird.
“Hey, you okay?” Noel squeezes my arm. “You look a little uneasy.” 
“She’s the girl that was at Casey’s the night it happened.” Stu explains, his tone a lot softer than anything he’s used around me since our argument. “She’s still sensitive about it. Aren’t you, angel?” 
I blink twice, taking a long sip of room temperature beer. “I um--” 
“Shit, that was you?” Noel takes an awkward semi-step away from me. “I must’ve forgot it was you. I didn’t mean to bring up any bad memories.”
“It’s fine.” I internally cringe at how fast the answer comes out. “I’m gonna, I need to use the bathroom.” 
Waiting for nothing else, I turn on my heels. The sound of my name is faint in my ears as I rush away from the crowds. I just need a second away from this noise so that I can think. 
“Hey, Y/n.” I nearly jump out of my skin as a hand grabs my arm. I turn too quickly, nearly stumbling into the wall behind me. Noel’s watching me with eyes that ooze sympathy. “I am so sorry about bringing up Casey. I didn’t know you knew her, let alone--” 
“It’s fine,” I breathe through gritted teeth, “I just-I need a second.” Why am I melting down? Because he mentioned her name so casually? Because of the fact that Stu dated her? 
“I didn’t um-I didn’t expect to hear her name. The things that have been making me spaz lately have been so random.” 
Noel nods once, “That makes sense, I can’t even imagine it.” When I don’t ease, Noel drops his arm. “Wanna go into the kitchen? It’s quiet there and I can get you some water. You just-you kinda look like you want to throw up.” 
I nod gently, letting Noel lead me out of the hallway and towards the kitchen. My stomach is in literal tangles, Noel nailed the ‘wanting to throw up’ thing. 
He’s right. Stu’s kitchen is empty and well lit, making it a lot easier to breathe as Noel pulls a water bottle out of a cooler. “Are you feeling okay? You look really freaked out.”  
I twist the lid off of the water bottle before bringing it to my mouth. I take small sips until nearly half the water’s gone. “Do you think it’s weird that Stu never mentioned they used to date?” The second the question is out, I regret it. Noel doesn’t know the situation. I don’t even really know the situation. I can’t start rumors like that based on a bad feeling after an emotional day. Especially not when talking to a guy I barely know. Maybe I could get away with bringing this up to Randy, but not Noel. “Oh my god, I’m a terrible person for asking that.” 
“I don’t think you’re terrible,” Noel starts gently, “It’s natural to question everything after something like this happens.” I nod, fingers twisting the plastic cap between my fingers. “And I honestly don’t think it’s that weird that he didn’t bring it up.” 
My eyebrows draw together at that. I press the cap into the counter with my thumb. “What?” 
“It makes him look super suspicious. I don’t think I’d want to take that kind of heat over a girl I dated sophomore year of high school.” That’s a decent point, I guess. If most people have forgotten you dated someone, why bring it up when it could potentially ruin your life? “Plus, if we’re going to make everyone Casey Becker dated a murder suspect, the police will have their fair share of guys to look through.” 
My thumb digs so deeply into the plastic that I can feel the ridges of the cap dig into my skin. “Are you seriously slut shaming her right now?” God, what is it with men? “My friend’s--she’s gone and you feel the need to make a joke about her dating life?” 
“No!” He blurts out, moving like the implication scalded him. “No, I’m not saying that at all, I’m just saying that I know Stu. He’s a lot and he makes jokes, but he’s not a killer.” Noel shifts when he realizes that I’m not easing, “He’s not like his friend.” 
What? “His friend?” 
Noel leans against the counter. “Him and Billy are pretty close, and Billy seems impulsive and too attached to how people see him. I’ve known them since we were kids, but Billy’s the only one that gives me that vibe, y’know?” When I don’t say anything, he continues, “I’m not saying Billy did it, there’s no proof as far as I know. I’m just saying that’d surprise me less.” Noel’s gaze moves towards the cap I’m still fiddling with. “He’s just a little too...I don’t know--protective?”
The choice of wording cuts through me. While Stu’s up front about everything, Billy’s the one that’s quiet, hard to read, and cares so much about the people he’s close with in an invisible way. The way he reacted to me saying I might come here with Noel tonight demonstrates the distinction between them clearly. Stu was openly bothered, but Billy...he was nice. Maybe too nice? 
Okay, that’s ridiculous. I can’t suspect Billy, the same Billy that was making pancakes with me this morning and grabbed the syrup off of the top shelf when I couldn’t, of murder. Especially not because he seems like less of a wild card than Stu. 
But then again, most killers aren’t the larger than life personalities. The charismatic white guy is the bad guy so often I’m surprised they’re still never the first suspect. 
Ugh. I hate thinking about this. I’ve had too much too drink and my head’s starting to hurt. 
“I don’t think it’s Billy, for the record,” Noel says after I refuse to end our long stretch of silence, “I was just using him as a reference point.” 
It can’t be Billy. It can’t be. I’m drunk and creating conspiracy theories out of panic. I’ve done it before. Two seconds ago I thought it could be Stu just because he didn’t feel like advertising the fact that he used to go out with a murder victim. I can’t just switch up based on whoever’s name I hear while I’m freaking out. 
“Yeah.” My voice sounds hollow, unsure. “Sorry, this is a party, and that was bleak.” 
“You’re fine,” Noel seems genuine, “You’ve been through so much I don’t even know how you’re out of the house. I’d be too scared to ever do anything again.”
I smile at his effort. “Guess I’m tougher than I look.” Letting go of my water bottle, I reach for the beer I abandoned. “No more talk about all of that, let’s just have fun.” 
Noel picks up his own beer bottle, tapping the neck of it against mine. “I’ll drink to that.” 
The alcohol, small talk, and forcing myself back into the party was supposed to help my anxiety. It hasn’t. No matter what I do, I can’t stop thinking through every interaction I’ve ever had with Billy. Even the nice things feel weird now. I couldn’t even bring myself to meet his gaze when he nodded in acknowledgement towards me earlier. And when Sid called me over, I pretended not to notice. 
Ugh, I hate myself for letting these ideas get into my head. 
There’s no proof. There’s nothing. And because of that, even if I could form an opinion, no one would believe me. Whenever I mention anything about that night, people look at me like a child that needs to be coddled. Their eyes get all sympathetic as they dismiss me with kind phrases like, anything’s possible and yeah, I think the police should look into that. 
if I put this in the perspective of something I know well, all mysteries have evidence. They all go back to the crime scene. If Randy gets to pretend that this is a scary movie, I can pretend it’s a mystery novel. 
And following that logic, I need to go back to Casey’s house. 
After I pee. God, I don’t feel drunk, but it’s possible considering how many times I’ve abandoned Noel in the last hour to use the bathroom. I don’t hate the excuse to leave, everyone’s getting couple-y and making out and maybe Stu did have a tiny bit of a good reason for telling me not to come tonight. 
Whoever’s in there is taking way too long. I lift my hand to knock again, but before I do, the door opens. The lack of physical object in the way throws me off. My fist flatly lands against a chest. 
“Oh my god, I’m sorry!” I immediately take my hand back, looking up at the person who I accidentally hit. “I am--” The rest of my apology is lost as I realize that it’s Billy. I take two steps back as my heart thrums in my chest. 
“Oh, Billy, it’s you.” Don’t laugh. Don’t laugh. A nervous giggle leaves me. “I um-I didn’t see you there.” Shaking my head dramatically, I start over, “I saw you, I just-I didn’t see--before, you know?” 
He regards me cautiously. “How much have you had to drink?”
“Not much,” I mumble, digging my nails into my palms to avoid bouncing on the balls of my feel, “I um--I’m not your problem, anyways, remember?” It’s supposed to be a joke, or maybe an excuse for my aloofness, but it comes out too bitter. “Sorry, um, we can talk more tomorrow. Bookstore, right?” When Billy doesn’t move or say anything, I tilt my chin up, “Bathroom. I need to use the bathroom.” 
Billy tilts his head, his expression unreadable as he takes a step forward. “You jumped when you saw me.” 
My eyes widen. “No.” The denial is too quick, too offended. “I jumped because I didn’t expect to see you, or anyone.” I cross my arms in front of my chest, tying to seem steady. “I’ve been drinking.” I whisper the last word like it’s some kind of secret. 
“I noticed,” Billy says flatly. His hands almost leave his sides like he’s considering trying to help stabilize me. Or do something more cynical. “Maybe you should get your boyfriend to take you home.” 
Swallowing back my dread, I watch him for a long second, “Boyfriend? Oh, Noel, he’s not--I mean he’s nice.” He thinks you could be a murderer. “I don’t think he’s in the going home mood, and I need some air. I’m walking home after this.” 
Billy presses his lips into a thin line. “Let me take you home, make sure you get to bed okay.” 
“No.” The word is basically a pout, and the way I sway slightly doesn’t make things any better. “Not your problem anymore, remember?” 
He pushes himself away from the doorway of the bathroom. Billy stalks towards me slowly. I hold my ground until Billy’s basically leaning over me. At that, I step back, but Billy keeps going until I’m backed into the wall. 
The hallway is empty, but the party is still alive and well around the corner. It feels like a world away with Billy standing this close. “I never said you were a problem and I never said you weren’t mine.” 
His words only half make sense, but the intensity of his tone edges me towards panic. “Billy,” I begin slowly, “I just want to go to the bathroom, splash some water on my face, and then go home.” 
He places a hand next to my head and I feel air claw its way back down my throat at the implication. He’s trapping me. “You’ve been avoiding me all night. Didn’t even say anything to Sid when she tried waving you over.” 
I shake my head the little bit I can in this position, silently praying that I don’t look like a deer caught in headlights. “No...I was just giving you guys the space you asked for.”
Billy leans impossibly closer, his hand sliding off the wall. I hold my breath until his thumb brushes against my cheek. Despite the tension in the air that I’d need a knife to cut through and my own nerves, my body relaxes instantly at the contact. “Do you remember when we first met?” 
It was during lunch. Tatum was the one that first pulled me towards their group and Stu was the one that kept calling me over. It was my first day and I was super nervous about lunch. Stu called me over before I could freak out and then a few seconds later began a joke that turned some kid into a punchline. I remember not being super comfortable, but not wanting to say anything because I couldn’t risk it. Billy had jumped in and saved me from needing to make a comment about it. 
“Yeah,” my voice is too soft, too flighty, “During lunch on my first day.” 
He nods once, eyes taking on a kinder hue. “You know what the first thing I noticed about you was?” Billy doesn’t wait for me to respond, “That you can’t keep a single thought or opinion off of your face.”
Every drop of blood rushes down my body. The corner of Billy’s mouth turns upwards at my expression. “That’s how I know that you’re lying. You don’t want to go home. Where were you going?” 
Staring at him is becoming too difficult. “The bathroom,” I mumble, “And then...Casey’s.” 
And just like that, any cracks in Billy’s demeanor disappear. “Stu’s right when he says you’re one impulse away from playing Nancy Drew.” I don’t say anything, but Billy doesn’t seem to mind my silence. “You’re drunk, you should go home.” 
“I’ll get there.” I try to sound serious as I say, “Go spend some time with your girlfriend, I’m fine.”
Billy looks at me for a long second, the fingers cupping my face pressing slightly into the skin of my neck. Something I don’t recognize flashes across his expression. All at once, it disappears and Billy steps away from me. “Sid would kill me if I let you wander the streets this drunk.” 
“Don’t do me any favors, I’m not trying to be anyone’s responsibility.” 
With a sigh, Billy looks me over again, “I’d worry too.” He studies my reaction, “Friends worry about their friends.” When I don’t protest, Billy continues, “Go to the bathroom, I’ll walk you home after.” 
I’m being ridiculous. If I don’t start acting normal, Billy’s going to realize that I’m freaking out. If he hasn’t already. 
Shaking the thought out of my system, I keep my eyes on the ground. People saw us leave together. Sid gave me a quick hug and told Billy to take his time keeping an eye on me, considering the fact that no one’s waiting for me at home and I’ve been kinda jumpy. Two girls from two of my different classes waved goodbye to me. I wanted to say goodbye to Noel, but I couldn’t find him. 
The October air bites against my skin. My mom could get away with wearing this in Texas no matter the time of year because it’s actually hot there. I keep my arms tucked into myself for warmth. 
“Here.” Billy’s stopped walking, and now he’s holding his arm out to me. 
I blink, realizing after a second too long that he’s offering me his jacket. He’s looking just past me like he can’t bring himself to meet my eyes. It’s weirdly cute in an awkward way. The endearment that I feel quickly melts into guilt.
I take the jacket, shrugging it on. “Thanks.”
“Are you okay?” Billy takes a step towards me, nearly making me trip off the sidewalk. “Be honest.” When I still can’t bring myself to say anything, Billy’s expression seems to cloud, “We’re not at a party, we’re not at school. It’s just you and me.” 
It’s ironic that the only anchor I feel is the warmth of Billy’s jacket. The patience that he’s looking at me makes the dam break. “I--I feel like I’m going crazy, all the time.” My answer is so honest, my throat feels raw. “And I feel like that because I lived I’m like indebted to the universe or something. Like--like I’m supposed to do something for Casey, but I can’t do anything because I don’t even feel like I can trust my own thoughts.” A small scoff leaves me. I’ve never been this pathetic. “What if I’m never normal again? I-I tried watching the movie that we were gonna watch before it happened the other day and I couldn’t even get through the first five minutes. And I--I loved that movie.” 
By the time I’m done with my rant, Billy is close enough to me to pull me into a hug. I let him, slowly moving my arms back around him. “It’s been a week,” he whispers, “You just need time.” I nod into his chest. “And in the mean time, we can find a better movie than A Nightmare on Elm Street.” 
I move away far enough to wipe at my face with the back of my hands. “Yeah,” I smile stiffly through a sniffle, “I just want to go home and not drink again for a really long time.”
Billy lets go of me. I turn slowly, already starting to walk again. Billy stays behind me. Shit, he picked up on it. I break out into a run, ignoring the confusion in my body. Billy’s footsteps are deceptively quiet behind me. 
We’re only blocks away from my house. I can--I can get there. 
He grabs my forearm, forcing me to face him. “Wh-what’s gotte--” 
“How’d you know what movie was playing?!” Billy pauses, his grip on my arm tightening. “I didn’t tell you. I only told one person, and it-it was the guy on the phone.” His lips part, but before he can speak I stomp on his foot with all of my strength. It doesn’t affect him until I throw all of my weight back, forcing him to loosen his hold just enough for me to squirm away from him. 
I start running again, taking off my wedged heels and throwing them blindly behind me, hoping that they somehow slow him down. Those shoes are more of a hazard than running barefoot. 
Now it’s just me and a race against Billy as I try to think of every horror movie mistake I could possibly make. My instinct is to run through the woods in order to potentially lose him, but that’s literally the opening scene mistake. So I just run fast and straight, staying on the illuminated sidewalk path and never looking behind me to see if he’s still following.
The house is only steps away from me. “Y/n!” Shit. I pick up the pace, ignoring the ache in my side and chest. “Let me explain!” I scramble to unlock the door. Billy’s close. 
Just as I throw open the door, Billy’s fingers brush against my shoulder. A scream that I can’t even recognize as my own bleeds from me as I slam the door behind me. Billy pushes against the wood, but I was expecting him to do that. I use all of my force to shove against the door. After slamming it hard a few times, the door shuts just enough for me to be able to twist the lock into place. 
This isn’t my first time trying to keep an angry man locked out of the house so I know better than to move away from the door while he’s still pounding on it. “You can’t believe that I’d do that.” 
My eyes squeeze shut, tears blurring my vision. “Just go away! Please.” 
“Not if you think I killed them.” He continues to knock and try the door handle. “You think I’d hurt you?”
I’m still struggling to breathe and the adrenaline is starting to wear off. My head is starting to pound. 
A familiar ringing cuts through my emotional haze. The phone. The living room extension is only a few steps away from me. It could be my mom calling because she can’t sleep, or my dad, or maybe even Hallie. All I know is that it’s a lifeline, and Billy’s no longer shaking the front door. 
I keep one hand on the door for as long as I can before picking up the receiver. “Mom?” 
A dark laugh that’s played almost every night in my head since I first heard it absorbs all the hope from my body. “I’ll give you one more guess, doll face, just cause I like you so much.” 
My bones are glass, the phone slips from my grasp. It clatters onto the ground, not loud enough to be heard over my heartbeat. The last time I ignored him, he didn’t take it well. That’s the only reason I find the strength to sit down and pick up the phone. I push myself back so that my back is pressed into the front door.
“You back yet? You’re cute, but I don’t like being ignored.” My breath comes out just shaky enough for it to be audible. “Oh, I hear you. What’s wrong, doll face? Not happy to hear from me?” My lips part, but my voice has completely left me. “Aw, keep the silent treatment up and you’ll hurt my feelings. And I play a lot less nice when my feelings are hurt. Might even have to take it on your buddy Billy Loomis, since you left him locked out like that.” 
Billy? “I-I’m still not sure that this isn’t Billy, but if it’s not leave him alone.” 
“Maybe you’ll believe it’s not him when he turns up gutted like your little friend.” 
The reference to Casey forces my stomach to lurch. I swallow back bile. “Why’d you do that?” I force my hand over my mouth as I almost let out a cry. Did I just kill Billy? “Why-why do that to Casey and just let me live?” Wiping my face with my palm harshly, I try to keep my voice steady, “Why call me now?” 
There’s the slightest bit of motion audible over the receiver. “What can I say, baby doll? I missed your voice.” If I felt any strength left in my body, I would have rolled my eyes at that. “You should already know why I let you live. You said it yourself the first time I called you.” 
He lets out a cruel laugh at such blatant confusion. “I’m not doing all of this to make a bad scary movie. And all the greats have a final girl, you said it yourself.” As his words sink in, a sob threatens to escape the confines of my chest. If he means what he’s saying, then a lot more people are going to die. “And, sweet cheeks, you’re mine.”
The possessive sort of growl that makes up the last word sends a chill straight through me. This game of cat and mouse is starting to make me sick. A floorboard from upstairs creeks and instinct takes over. “But you have to earn it, doll face, no fun if it’s guaranteed.” 
I force myself to stand on shaky legs. He could be in the house. Billy and Stu had no trouble getting in last night, but Billy already knew about my window. My breaths are too shallow as I reach the kitchen, stealing a knife from the block on the counter. 
“You know,” I start, trying to sound braver than I feel, “A lot of times final girls kill the slasher.” 
Another sharp chuckle. “I’m glad I picked you.” 
Footsteps are coming from the stairwell. I grip the knife’s handle, trying to force myself to walk towards the stairs. “You won’t feel that way forever.” 
“Feisty,” the voice either growls or groans, I can’t tell. 
My skin crawls as the steps from the stairs sound closer than ever. I hold the knife out in front of me with shaking hands.
“Y/n, I--” Billy stops in front of me, holding his hands out in front of him. “I just wanted to tell you that I knew the movie because they printed it in the newspaper. It was in the VCR when the police found you and they listed it in that article where they listed everything that was in Casey’s living room.” 
There was that one article that over analyzed everything about what was in Casey’s house. They even listed the lipglosses Casey was showing me and a bottle of opened nail polish we left out. The explanation paired with the fact that the person on the other line is still there leave my head spiraling. 
“Billy?” He’s probably so mad at me and I-I just--how did we end up here? I drop the knife, letting it hit the ground.
“I leave your friend alone and you thank me by ignoring me?” The voice on the other end of the line snaps me out of it. 
After stuttering for a moment, I finally blurt out, “Leave him alone.” 
“Protective,” the voice muses, “Careful, baby doll, I might get jealous.” Before I can get myself to speak again, the line goes dead. 
Billy’s the one that knocks me out if my panicked trance. He delicately places a hand on my shoulder. I can’t breathe. I don’t think I’m crying until my vision turns blurry. He tugs me towards him, placing a hand on my back. He rubs my back soothingly. “You’re okay.”
“I’m sorry,” I whisper, my voice hoarse, “I’m so sorry, I--” 
“It’s okay,” he whispers, letting me hug him tightly, “It’s okay.” Billy pulls me away just enough so that I can look him in the eye. “We’ll call the police and figure it out, okay?” I nod, but make no move to let go of him. 
Taglist: @cole22ann @womenarecannibals @fand0mskullfa1ry @princessleah129 @i-amnotokaywiththis @fvcking-gxddess @suckmyass-things
A/n things were getting a little too nice and i had to remind y’all hehe
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loveandmurders · a day ago
Ghostface’s fan #1 (Part II)
Hello everyone! You seemed to have enjoyed the first part of this series (that you can find here), so I’m posting the second part of it. If you haven’t read the first part, it’s basically a Billy Loomis x female reader x Stu Matcher fiction. Reader is obsessed with Ghostface.
Hope you’ll enjoy <3
As said, female reader, but no physical description, not even for outfits/lingerie.
Warnings: very morally grey reader, DNI, mention of sexual activities (oral (female receiving), light bondage, blindfold, strip tease, knife kink,...), mention of killings, mention of people hurting reader, mention of unhapiness (but reader is doing better now), quite fluffy.
The day after, once you came back from school, you were hoping to find Ghostface in your room again. And you couldn’t lie at how disappointed you were when you found the place empty. You still hoped they would come later tonight though so you dug up some nice lingerie in your wardrobe and put it on after a very nice shower.
Lately you hadn’t taken a great care of yourself but you really wanted Ghostface to keep coming to you, so you thought you needed to be better. You put some cream on your body and tried to be more gentle with yourself. You even ate a proper meal for once. You finally ended up laying down on your bed, waiting. It was getting late, and you were slowly losing hope, wondering if last night wasn’t just a very wonderful dream and nothing more. You  were softly falling asleep, when you heard your window being opened so you sat up, wide awake. Your face lit up at the sight of Ghostface and you were quick to jump off your bed and helped them inside your room. You were so happy you had been good enough for them to come back to you!
“You’re back!” you excitedly cheered and Ghostface looked down at you. You could sense they were confused and surprised, and you noticed they were looking around your room as if it was the first time they came there. You understood it was probably the person who called the Ghostface of last night, but really you didn’t care. For you, it was still Ghostface and you were still super eager to be played with if that was the only thing that would make them come back to you. You needed them in your life.
“I found some lingerie, I thought you would enjoy seeing me in this” you continued and Ghostface’s attention was soon back on you, which you enjoyed a little too much for your own good. Their hands were quickly on you; Stu was definitely liking it. He perfectly understood why Billy hadn’t killed you last night, and he was quite happy he didn’t. Wasting a little pretty thing like you would have been a shame. And you were so cute and eager… and obsessed with them, like they were obsessed with their killing. You were fitting so well in their world. He roamed your body, and you noticed he was a lot gentler than the man who came the night before. He finally nodded at you and your smile widened even more. You took one of his hands to guide him on the bed and he followed you like a soft puppy. You loved how complementary the two Ghostfaces were, and you hoped the two of them would enjoy you equally.
You noticed that the first Ghostface - Billy or “Knifey” (like you nicknamed him for yourself) - was sometimes a little bit rough and clearly into knife play (hence the nickname). He was dangerously playful. He was often fidgeting with his knife around you, knowing you both were aroused by it, and after having threatened you with it, he would undress you by cutting your clothes with it. (He was bringing you new clothes and underwear pretty often, mostly because he loved to see you in outfits he picked for you). During sex he would even move the blade all over your body, but you trusted him because he never hurt you. He also liked to have you tied up and blindfolded; it allowed him to eat you out and to pleasure you out of your mind. He was definitively into overstimulation and you loved it. It was allowing you to forget about all the things that saddened your life.
When the second one - Stu or “Puppy” - was a lot more tender with you and was acting most of the time like an excited puppy (hence the nickname, once again). When you had opened your legs for him, the first time, he had almost jumped on you which made you giggle a little. Unlike Billy, he stayed after the sexy time for some cuddles before leaving you, and you could tell he was pretty reluctant from doing so. He wasn’t too much into tying you up but blindfolds were quite handy so he could fully kiss you up and eat you out as well. He loved to purr into your ear to undress yourself for him too and he would forever enjoy the little show you put out for him. He had greedy hands, always touching and roaming your body. He couldn’t stop himself, and it was impossible to leave his embrace. He made you feel desirable and almost loved. You could pretend to be theirs.
Each time you saw them, you reminded them you loved them and you wanted them to come back to you, even if it was just for fucking you.
And sex was definitively one of the reasons Ghosface came back to you, every night. But there was something more. And for the first time in your life you were feeling wanted and appreciated, and by two dangerous killers, which was a bonus. 
As time passed, the two Ghostfaces grew more comfortable with you, because you never asked questions and you never tried to know who was behind the mask. They could be fully themselves around you. And they started to pass by even when they didn’t want to have sex with you. Stu was often sneaking at night, when you were already asleep to cuddle you. Billy had to wake him up more than once before they could get caught. And Billy was often coming by when he needed some peaceful silence. Stu wasn’t always allowing him to think in peace, but with you it was easier. He would just bring you on his lap and you would play with his fingers, as he thought his plans out in a comforting atmosphere. 
They were also flirting with you! And you loved it so much. Billy would cup your chin and seductively brush your lower lip. His hands would also happily roam your body, making you feel desirable like never before. He loved to squeeze your arse, as to remind you you were his. But how could you forget that. He would also praise you, for being good to them, but also for your good grades or for having taken care of yourself. Billy could tell you were trying your best for Ghostface, and he was proud of you. But you never dared talk to him, or to Stu, about the people who were hurting you because you weren’t too sure what your relationship was with them and you didn’t want to annoy them.
Stu was a cuddly boy to you, always touching, hugging you and stealing your kisses through the mask (or not when you were blindfolded). After sex, he would enjoy tracing abstract patterns on your skin, which always made you shiver in well-being. He was also into keeping the blindfold on so it would allow the two of you to have a bath together, and he would wash you. The more time he spent with you the more tender he became, and he always pouted behind the mask when he noticed you were feeling a little bit down. He would always try his best to cheer you up but he hated it, and he hated you weren’t talking about what was bothering you.
Stu started to talk a lot more about you to Billy, because he felt the boys needed to agree on the definition of your relationship. And truth to be told Stu just wanted to be allowed to look after you. But Billy was worried you would be in the way of their master plan, and he thought it would be better to keep things like that: they came to you for sex and affection, and the three of you minded your own business otherwise. Stu hadn’t been very happy about it, but he didn’t argue anymore. He still tried to keep an eye on you at school, without showing it to anyone. Billy was now forced to distract Stu before he could stare at you and he really wasn’t impressed. He didn’t want you to become a problem, because you were truly enjoyable.
Stu knew you were far from a problem, you were the perfect Ghostface’s girlfriend and he was certain Billy would be forced to admit it sooner or later.
And because you were quite unaware of what Ghostface truly thought of you, or wanted from you in the end, you weren’t too sure if they were going to kill you one day or not. You weren’t stupid and you knew that no matter how they boosted up your confidence in yourself, they were still killers. And you had been an accident in their plan.
You had the answer the day you were chatting in the house of a future dead girl. You had a class together and you had been paired up for a group project. It was getting late so you ordered pizzas and you were taking a little break from working. It was quite a nice evening, and you enjoyed the company even though you hoped you wouldn’t be late to greet your killers in your room. The girl was in her bathroom as you were chilling on the couch, thinking about them, as usual. You thought you heard a door being opened but you weren’t too sure about it, and didn’t really care either. You jumped when you felt the cold of a blade on your throat; a knife you knew well by now. You looked up at Ghostface and smiled at him. Billy leaned towards you to kiss your forehead through the mask before getting you up. As you faced him, you felt the arms of the other Ghostface wrapping around you. You leaned into the embrace. It was the first time you saw them at the same time and you liked it a lot. Gosh, they were too hot for your own good.
“Gonna kill me or should I go?” you asked and the two Ghostfaces exchanged a look.
“You stay here until we kill her and then you call the cops” Billy said but for the first time you shook your head at something he said
“No, I don’t want to talk to the cops because they would need to call my parents” you quickly replied “Let me pretend I need to go, and then kill her once I’m gone” you countered and you were serious about it. You loved Ghostface and you would never betray them, even if your life depended on it, but there was no way your parents or the cops discovered anything about your obsession or anything. Your mother hasn't been home a lot lately but she would be nosy if she heard anything happened to you. And she would discover something and you didn’t want to lose what you were finally having in your existence. You hadn’t been happy a lot in your life, and now you finally were feeling better, you couldn’t let your parents take it away from you.
“And?” Billy asked, because he didn’t see where the problem was
“Haven’t you noticed my parents are never home? Trust me, it’s better that way” you replied quite fiercely and you felt the Ghostface still holding you moving his head at the one in front of you, probably to tell him to leave you alone. Billy sighed. He had tried to pretend they were still in control of this relationship with you, but he was only lying to himself. Every night, Stu and him were arguing about which one of them would come see you. Billy and Stu even broke up with their current girlfriends, because they couldn't pretend anymore. That was really not part of the plan, but the unforeseen relationship with you and its consequences brought a lot of fun to their killing experiences as well.
Billy sat up on the couch and Stu tightened his hold on you and you took comfort in the getsure. “The cops will ask you why you left” he said and you looked away, knowing he was right.
“Can’t you come back later?” you asked
“You won’t tell her anything?” he asked back and you arched an eyebrow
“Even if we both could, I haven’t talked and you haven’t killed me” you replied and you felt Stu softly chuckling in your ear.
“Alright then, see you tonight, love” Billy said as he got up and Stu finally let you go. You enjoyed the nickname more than you would ever admit.
“Hey, come back together tonight for once?” you offered and they exchanged another look.
“Can try, but he is jealous” Billy said as he pointed his knife at Stu, who scoffed
“And he is possessive” he replied, pointing at Billy and you laughed.
You worked and ate the pizza with the soon to be dead girl, but you didn’t really care, because you were now certain that the two Ghostfaces were liking you a lot, and it was all you needed in your life to be happy. 
You thought that one day, maybe, you could also be a Ghostface and you hummed happily to yourself. Life was getting good.
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bloodsoakedtooth · a month ago
Ghostface calls and asks what my favorite scary movie is and suddenly he's stuck listening to me info dump for 2 hours
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sorrynotseth · 10 days ago
Scream For You ; 01
ghostface x m. reader
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description: while preparing popcorn [Name] gets an odd call from an unknown caller.
author: sorrynotseth
parts: two
The room was pitch black with the exception of my TV screen. Its light radiated through my dark room. Underneath the mountains of blanket I sat entranced by the movie. Nothing matter to me in that moment except if the characters would escape the killer's hands.
Which seemed very unlikely as of the moment .. I mean he was right behind her, and she was clueless! I threw my last handful of popcorn at the screen (as if it would do anything) in frustration before pausing the movie. My popcorn has already run out, and I wasn’t even done with the movie!
Exiting my room, I began my treck to the kitchen. The light from my sister’s open door poured out onto the floor. What was she doing with her lights on at this time of night? I moved in-front of her door frame to see her perched on her vanity smearing makeup on her face. Makeup at this time of night?
"What are you doing? It's like 1 am right now,” I leaned against the door frame as I spoke.
She turned to me with an eye roll, "Stu's coming over." I mouthed an 'Oh' at her words before a sneaky grin stretched across my face, "Wear a condom. Don't want you getting pregnant on us at your age." She threw a hairbrush at me as I laughed. "Shut up!"
I simply turned away still laughing and made my way downstairs to the kitchen. My thoughts trailed back to Tatum and Stu. Stu was a nice guy, but god do those two go at it like rabbits. It seemed like every other night I would find a shirtless Stu lingering around the house. It never bothered me, plus seeing a hot guy shirtless? No complaints.
A guilty feeling sunk down into my chest. What am I thinking? It’s wrong for me to think of my sister’s boyfriend in such a manner even if he is one of the most beautiful guys I had ever seen.. Stop it! I pinched my arm and hurried towards the kitchen. The faster I can finish my popcorn the faster I can continue my movie and not think about Stu or Tatum.
Opening the pantry I searched for the popcorn. It was full of junk food which I knew was the work of Dewey. I eventually found my target and reached out to get it-
The sound of a phone ringing blasted throughout the house. I grabbed the popcorn before heading off to answer the phone, “Hello, this is the Riley residence. [Name] speaking.”
“Hello, [Name].”
The voice almost didn’t sound real. So hollow. The only thought I had was ‘no way this was truly someone’s voice.’
I shook my head at the sound of my name striking me back into reality, “Oh! Yes. Sorry. Who is this?”
“I don’t know.”
“You.. don’t know?”
“I don’t. Do you?”
I let out a small chuckle, “Trust me. With a voice like yours I would’ve recognized you immediately. I don’t know you, man. Sorry.” I shrugged as I waited for the unknown voice to respond. The only thing I could hear was harsh breathing.
“You do know me.”
“I really don’t. I mean; why would I lie about that?”
“Maybe you’re naughty. Are you?”
My brows furrowed at the word, “Naughty?”
“Are you a naughty boy, [Name]?”
My shoulders tended up at the words. What a creep. I quickly hung up the phone, and tried to shake off the conversation while making my popcorn; however, it was the only thing my mind could focus on.
Sighing, I tried my best to focus on the sound of popcorn popping and not the ominous ringing of the phone repeating in my ears.
“[NAME]! I swear to god if you don’t answer the phone I will come down there and claw you!”
The deafening sound of Tatum’s screech from upstairs awoke me from the state I had been in. My mind was so clouded by the creepy interaction I failed to realize that the phone was actually ringing.
I walked my way back to the phone and let out a sigh to try and relieve my nerves. PTSD from a at maximum 2 minute phone call? Pathetic.
“Hello, this is the Riley residence. [Name] speaking.” I closed my eyes as I hoped it was a random scam caller or even a stupid, 12 year old boy calling to yell, “Your mom!” in my ear.
No one responded. My nerves were at an all time high. A small rustle came from the line followed by some heavy breathing.
“Hello?” My voice was quieter than I would have liked. Almost sounding weak. I truly did feel like prey being stalked by the big, bad predator.
“I love when you play hard to get. It gets me riled up. Do it again.”
It was the same voice from before, and it felt as if my blood had run cold. My breathing got shallow and I could feel my facial muscles tense up.
“I-I don’t know what you mean.”
“Insult me. Deny me. C’mon, you know I love a good game of cat and mouse.” The voice let out a cruel laugh, and it felt as if a frog was stuck in my throat.
It was silent from my end, but the other end of the line consisted of heavy breathing. I tried to calm my nerves. It’s best to stay calm in these situations, right? Calm and cool. Cool and calm.
The voice broke out again, “Talk to me, baby! Why’d you go quiet on me..” My eyes welled up at the words omitted from the phone. So this is how it felt. I no longer blamed the clueless final girls in my horror films for being so afraid. I mean, compared to me right now? Fearless.
Hang up the phone. Don’t give this weirdo what he wants. Just hang up. Besides your popcorn is about finished. Hang up.
I did. I hung up the phone. I let out a sigh of relief before I escaped the taunting phone into the kitchen. In that moment it felt like the kitchen was my safe haven. The smell of buttery popcorn, the absence of a phone, it was perfect.
With my popcorn finally done I could finally go to my actual safe haven. My room. Skipping over stairs while tripping over my own feet I rushed towards my door at the end of the hallway.
"Yo, [Name]!"
My rushing was brought to a stop at Stu’s voice ringing from Tatum’s bedroom. He was sprawled out on her bed and I could see the sliver of his stomach. Was that a happy trail? My eyes were locked on the exposed skin. Why did he have to be so tempting?
“Earth to [Name]! Are you there?”
His voice was drawled out in the over dramatic way he does everything in. Stu was a person you could get drunk off of just by his presence. Even if it’s just for a second.
“Oh. My bad. Just a little spaced out today, sorry.”
Stu sent me the fakest scared expression ever, “Did the-” He paused looking around as if he was searching for someone to be hiding in the corner before whispering, “aliens eat your brain?”
I laughed at his antics before joining in, “Oh yes, it was a terrible sight! They sucked my brains straight out through my nostrils!”
The two of us burst out laughing. No wonder Tatum loved having Stu over all the time. He’s intoxicating to be around. Speaking of Tatum.. Where was she?
“Okay, for real, where’s Tate?”
Stu flopped around of the bed, "Doing some girly stuff in the bathroom." He paused before parting the spot next to him on the bed, "C'mon over here. Let's have some private guy time before Bridezilla comes back."
I laughed as I entered the room. Taking a seat next to Stu I played with my hands. It was a nervous habit, and being so close to Stu was definitely making me nervous. What do I say? My mind trailed back to the phone call. No! Don’t think about that!
As my brain fumbled with what to say I could feel Stu’s gaze on me. His eyes felt like they were shooting lasers into my skull. Stu always held such an intense gaze. Almost possessive in a way. Which made sense. If Stu saw something he wanted he got it, and if he got it he wouldn't share it. Except with Billy.
Billy. Billy Loomis. Your sister's best friend's boyfriend who also happened to be best friends with your sister’s boyfriend. What a title. Billy was someone I knew was always there, but I could never bring myself to get close to him. He was too-
“You gonna talk or just ignore me?”
“Sorry. Just a little.. tired is all.”
Stu smiled at me, "What's keeping you up at night, baby? Heebie Geebies?"
"Oh, I wish," I laughed. "I do think I know what is keeping me up; however, you won’t believe me."
Stu just stared at me with that mischievous look he almost always held, “I bet a signed copy of The Thing by John Carpenter I can guess it.”
“No. Why would I ever give up that! It’s priceless.”
I hit Stu lightly on the shoulder, “You really had me going for a sec, man. Can’t believe you would play with my feelings like that. I’m heartbroken.”
Directing a mock sad face to Stu I fell back onto the bed next to him, “Okay. 3 guesses. Go!”
“There’s a masked man watching you from your window.”
“No, but would make my life more interesting if it did happen.”
He snapped his finger at me, “A demonic murderer is haunting your dreams!”
I laughed a loud, “A nightmare on elm street reference; seriously? ”
Stu just gave me this smile at my words and I couldn’t help but smile back, “Last chance, go!”
“Okay, I 100% have it this time. My rakishly good looks haunt your dreams at night!
I let out a fake gasp of shock, “I can’t believe you got it right! Are you psychic?”
He stuck out his tongue at me and I laughed out again. My mind was finally free from the torment of the phone call, and I never wanted to leave Stu’s presence. He felt like the only thing that could get my mind off of the unknown caller.
My thoughts were interrupted by Tatum coughing obnoxiously at her door with her arms crossed. She had a full face of makeup, changed clothes that hugged her tight, and I instantly felt the urge to leave.
“I’ll go.” I raised my hands in surrender and began to exit out of the room as Tatum stalked towards Stu like a lion ready to pounce a zebra.
I gave Stu a wink before quickly closing the door to rush away from the couple into the safety of my bedroom. The paused screen of the final girl being chased down by the masked killer made me get a queasy feeling in my stomach, and I couldn’t stand to finish the movie any longer.
Turning off my TV, I went to the radio and felt the soothing tunes start to pleasure my ear drums. Praying it was enough to not only block off Tatum and Stu, but my own troublesome thoughts I began to fall into the comfort of my bed.
No thoughts were bouncing around in my head except ones of sleep and enjoyment of the music playing. There was no thoughts of Stu or Tatum or the creepy caller. And I wished to keep it that way.
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chapter 01 ;
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wolfishwriting · 8 months ago
reader is taken hostage by a survivor
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
tw/cw: fem! plus sized reader, mentions of stalking, choking, blood/death (slightly detailed, be warned), guns, violence, swearing, angry boys, implied smut, takes place during summer
"Don't fucking take a single step," The male victim hisses, knife point pressed tight to your throat. You had been getting out of the car with your groceries (thanks to your shopping buddy Lester) when the tall blonde had ran up behind you, slamming you into your car door, scattering the groceries across the driveway. The force was enough to leave you stunned and a small gash along your head.
Your bruising cheek is scuffed, hands littered in small, bleeding cuts. Your skinned knees shook, blood trickling down your head and onto the pretty fabric of your white-green matching light blouse and shorts combo.
Bo stares hard, shadows darkening his face. The pulsing vein twitches at his neck and in a blink of an eye, he has a pistol pulled on the survivor.
In a blink, a round is fired. Blood coats your skin and clothes.
A long bang and a buzzing past your ear and the man drops, blood and brain matter smearing across the driveway.
"Oh, babydoll...!" Bo is at your side in an instant, collecting your shaking form in his large arms. He pulls you back to check you over, internally wincing at the cut on your head. "Let's get you inside."
He takes his time cleaning up your wounds, kissing each one after they've been patched, while his brothers take care of the body and the array of groceries still thrown all over the front yard.
Bo swears he'll never let anyone that close to you again. That was way too much of a close call for comfort.
One of Bo's victims had escaped from beneath Vincent's workspace and unfortunately, you had been relaxing on the sofa with an open book on your lap when the victim breached the top of the stairs.
They grabbed you by the hair, punching you in the eye, eliciting a pained noise from you, head being thrashed repeatedly against the hardwood floor. A large bruise blooms purple across your cheek and blood drips from your nose.
Your startled yelp sent Vincent barreling after the victim with white hot-searing rage. Anger bubbles in his stomach, traveling down to his trembling fingers that reach for the garden shears on his way out and instantly storm towards you.
He overpowers them, slamming the sharp curved blades through their cheek til it expelled its way through the other side, spilling blood and teeth. He allows the body to fall to a heap.
Vincent rushes to you, hands gently cupping your face. Your eye was beginning to swell shut, the side of your face darkening with bruises. He takes in your split lip and the tears staining your face and pulls you in close. He strokes your hair and sighs deeply, breathing in your scent mixed with the metallic tang.
"Hurt..." Vincent sobs, hugging you tighter. "So sorry." His voice rasps, rumbling in his throat.
That night, once your wounds are dressed. He spends time worshiping you between your thighs, free of his wax mask, and stroking every inch of your bare skin.
They took you. They took you and they were going to pay. The spilled pot of veggie stew and wide-open front door were the only indications he needed.
His trusty chainsaw revs to life when he sees it. A survivor on top of you punching you over and over and over. You're not moving and Tommy fears the worst.
The chainsaw roars a second before it pierces through the person's chest, slicing downwards and disemboweling them completely before shutting off the chainsaw and throwing it away from him.
He kneels down on the soft grass, sun warming his back as he collects you into his big arms. Thomas lets out a small whimper, stroking your cheek with blood-stained fingers.
When your eyes flutter open, Thomas is so relieved you have no idea. He's cooing softly, nuzzling and rocking you. He leaves you temporarily in the care of Luda Mae whom tends to your wounds while he draws you a calming, rose petal bath.
He's going to kick himself over this but you bet for damned sure, he's gonna love you in every way you need for the rest of your life.
He had been entering through the backdoor of your shared home when the sound of a shattering plate and a scream made the Shape go rigid and instantly storming towards the sound to see you on the ground, his would-be victim from a few hours ago standing above you where you lie on the tiled kitchen floor, holding your profusely bleeding arm.
He wastes no time, grabbing the person by the side of the face and slamming them repeatedly against the faucet. He doesn't stop until their face is an unrecognizable pile of goopy mush.
Michael stands before you, blue eyes swirling beneath the shifting shadows of his mask. He doesn't say anything but ducks off, returning with the First Aid kit. He hands it to your silently, sitting down on his knees and watching you tend to your wounds with well-practiced fingers. He'd surely given you enough practice to care for his wounds.
He does have the care to dispose of the body in the early morning, he would never let you take the credit fall for the body. He chose to spend the night in bed with you, enthralled by passion; being uncharacteristically more loving and soft, not quite gentle.
Spending his time bringing you to your pleasure but being mindful of your newly stitched arm.
Both are absolutely fucking livid. The thief, your stalker, they had been tailing, chose to seek refuge at your home by breaking and entering. A mistake, truly.
Billy goes in first, costume cloaking him within the darkness of the house while Stu, also in costume, circles around the back of your home and climbs the trellis to your shared bedroom. A camera flash alerts the brunette and anger seizes him. Retrieving a chloroform-soaked cloth from his back pocket, he freezes when a whimper breaks the uneasy silence.
Billy and Stu charge the room the same time, fueled by their own anger. It only increases tenfold when they notice the man straddling you in bed, hand tight around your throat and knife cutting a crescent shape just below your right eye.
Stu launches forward and thrusts the knife below their chin, the blade squelching as he pushes it in to the hilt. He savors the sight of the fear in his eyes turning into a vacant glazed-over expression.
Billy stalks forward, forcing his own knife into their neck, and twisting until the head rest by the strand of only a few muscles. They dispose of the body first after checking in to make sure your injuries aren't too severe.
Stu has you sit in his lap on the bathroom counter as Billy carefully clears away the leaking blood and using an alcohol wipe to ensure no infections would be present.
"Fuck, baby. So glad you're okay." Stu mumbles, oddly quiet as he nuzzles your hair affectionately.
Billy puts away the First Aid kit, giving a rare, genuine smile. "C'mon Stu, our girl is tough."
Definitely got some passionate love-making that night.
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chezzywezzy · 2 months ago
Yandere Scream Drabble
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Word count ; 6.8k
*IMPORTANT : I have bad wifi right now and can't continue the Eddie Munson for a few days. In exchange, I plan to do a yandere Eddie Munson drabble tomorrow, and the following day, a yandere Billy Hargrove. It should still be good, so check those out when they come out! Apologies for a momentary wait.
The living room was consumed by the television static and it buzzed quietly and glared a brilliant blue. The rest of the household was also dark, nothing but the moonlight peaking in from the open windows. An azure mist befell the air, and outside, the weather was windy and preparing for autumn. From the living room, to the left, there was a connected and small kitchen. And following that was the front door, with nothing but a few closets lining the hall. To the right of the living room there were steps that led to a shadowier part of the household. The stairs ascended to several bedrooms and bathrooms. There was but one that had light spilling from underneath the crack. 
Usually, Y/n’s older brother was louder. But it was a tiring day for the entire family. The parents were out on a hard earned date, leaving two siblings to do as they pleased. However, as greatly needed as the peace and quiet was, there was something sinister in the air. Dylan felt it. And because of that, he planned to wait until the parents came home.
Back in the living room, though, lying down on her side on the plush couch, was Y/n. Her sleeping form was curled up and her head rest on the arm of the chair. She fell asleep to a favorite movie of her’s. After a hard day at school, filled with many tests and assignments, she went home and watched a movie.
It would prove itself to be a bad idea.
Her quiet, steady breaths were inaudible. Or, they would be, if not for the mysteriously robed figure that emerged from the shadows. Their steps were slow and steady and silent. They had inky cargo boots underneath the silk cloak that covered every inch of their body, minus for their leather glove-covered hands and the blinding white mask that resembled that of a ghost. They were stealthy and sleek. They were dangerous. 
And, clasped tightly in their left hand, was a thin, curved knife that glinted menacingly in the moonlight.
They rounded the couch. Tauntingly, they raised their knife to drag along the top of the couch, and the knife tearing at the fabric fell upon deaf, unconscious ears. Y/n, from her position on the couch, stirred, but instead, flopped onto her back and straightened her legs out. She clutched a pillow to her chest and let out a small sigh of contempt. 
The figure paused, and their mask tilted toward them further, form towering over her’s. Even with a mask on, it was easy to tell their eyes were glued to her figure. They moved lowly, stalking their prey. Enjoying the process. Y/n would be afraid, very much so, and she would be soon.
They raised his knife, taking one final step so that they rounded the couch. If she were awake, he would be blocking her view from the static television. But, instead, she just let out another yawn. They were enjoying her sleeping, unconscious form, drinking in every inch of her.
They lowered the knife to her chest. It hovered threateningly, and for a while, it remained. The figure hunched over completely, masked eyes flitting over her body. And then, slowly, the knife ghosted past her chest to her neck and then to her cheek. 
How tempting it was to leave a mark. To frighten her even sooner than planned. But they knew of the older brother upstairs, with a computer in his bedroom, and it would soil their plans completely to wake her.
Although they did not stab, they couldn’t help but press the bad to her plush cheek ever so slightly. And it amused them when her brows furrowed and she swatted at the pressure. But, by then, they had withdrawn the knife, and instead turned to the glowing television.
Their predatory eyes surveyed the room until they spotted it. Sitting on the long coffee table was a remote. They leaned over and picked it up. With but one push, they turned it off, shrouding the room in darkness and silence. The mist consumed the room.
Dylan was standing in the upstairs hallway. He had just left to use the bathroom, hand barely pressing against the handle. He thought of himself paranoid, but then he noticed that the blue light from the living room disappeared. He paused, listening. And what baffled him more was that no lights flickered on. There was no chatter that his sister would usually release when arising from slumber. 
His eyes narrowed and he felt around the wall. He waisted no time in flicking on the hallway stairs, and he could finally see his path. Slowly, he stepped down the stairs. The house was old, though, and with each step he took, a creak echoed in the household. 
When he arrived at the base of the steps, he was quick to notice that Y/n’s hair was still strewn over the side of the couch. The television was off, and yet, she was so still and silent that he wondered. However, the house was undisturbed. And for a moment, he thought all was well in the house.
Surely, the woman had just woken up for a moment to turn off the television.
His body twisted and he planned to relieve himself in the amenities, as originally planned. And then, he heard it. It rolled shivers down his spine when the phone started ringing from the kitchen. Y/n groaned and threw the pillow over her ears, clearly desiring to continue her rest. So, that left the man to answer the phone himself.
As he walked, he flicked on only the kitchen light. He flinched, waiting for his eyes to adjust. But by then, a minute or so had passed and the phone went silent. Dylan, feeling pressured, stalked over to the phone. It was silent, and the moment he went to lift it, it started ringing again. 
It was deafening as he removed it from the receiver and shakily raised it to his ear. For some odd reason, he dreaded the idea of someone on the other side of the line. On the news recently, there had been murders occurring in their sweet town. Murders happened all the time; and yet, the ones occurring seem pointed and specific. Like some revenge plot of a psycho.
“Hello?” Dylan spoke, his deep voice rumbling with discontent. His heart boomed in his chest.
For a moment, the other person was silent. And then, almost robotically, a voice replied,” Hello, who is this?”
Dylan didn’t like them. It was deep and crackled, almost as though it was fake. They sounded calm and collected, more than one should be when calling a person. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he gulped. “Shouldn’t I be the one asking you that? Who… are you looking for?”
Once again, silence rang. Dylan didn’t like the sound of their voice. He figured it to be a prank call and nothing more. There were a lot of sick creeps who probably got off on frightening and confusing people, especially with all the orders going on.
And so, he did what anyone else would do. He slammed the phone back on the receiver, and the moment it clicked into place, he felt relief. He warily glanced over his shoulder. From the angle he was at, he couldn’t see his sister. Only the couch. However, when he heard some shuffling from the cushions, he let out a sigh.
He turned, about to walk away. But he was forced to stop in his tracks when more ringing sounded. He clenched and then unclenched his fists. He turned back to the phone sitting on the kitchen counter, glaring as though it would shut up if he intimidated it. 
He realized the caller was ruthless, though. And he went to answer. However, a quiet, croaking voice called from the living room.
“Dylan, who’s calling? Mom and dad?”
He gulped again. “No.”
“Then who?”
“I’m not sure, sis.”
She went mute again, clearly wishing to sleep further. On the tip of Dylan’s tongue, he wanted to tell her to go to her room to sleep. But, instead, he silenced his thoughts and picked up the phone. He prepared himself mentally, about to speak, but the menacing caller beat him to it.
“I’m sorry. I’m looking for Y/n L/n.”
Shivers rolled down Dylan’s spine. “…Who is this?”
“I’m her friend.”
“Which one? I’ve never heard your voice before,” Dylan seethed with suspicion, not allowing the man on the other side to breathe. “I would remember a voice as distinct as your’s.”
For a second, Dylan thought that perhaps, the man on the other side had hung up. There was a prolonged silence, and the only way he could tell they hadn’t hung up was because of the quiet, labored, and angry breaths from the other side.
“Give the phone to Y/n,” the voice demanded, slurring with a threatening undertone. They were still calm, and yet, it was like they were seething just as much as Dylan, biding their time to strike. Dylan didn’t understand. So many questions threatened to fall from his lips, and yet he withheld them, knowing he’d yield no response.
Dylan was quick to reply, voice higher in pitch due to concern and masked fear,” She’s not here. If you give me your name, I’ll tell her you called.”
“Oh? Where is she?”
Dylan paused. But only momentarily. He could almost hear a knowing snicker from the other side, although it was higher pitched. It caught him off guard, and he was quick to answer,” Out with parents.”
“…Oh? Is that so?” They almost sounded angry. Spiteful. And, in the silence that followed, Dylan wondered if he had convinced them. 
Suddenly, they were angry. Their voice grumbled menacingly. “If she’s out with parents, then why am I looking at her right now, sleeping on the living room sofa, Dylan?”
His heart stopped and he looked around wildly. He took the phone with him, surveying each window. As he did so, he shut the curtains. He made it to the living room, gritting his teeth. He even pulled the curtains for the back patio shut, but not before surveying the backyard,
Dylan was about to shout as he shut the last curtain. “Who —“
“Ah, ah, ah,” the creep cooed in a sing-song voice. “You might want to lower your voice, Dylan. It would be a shame if you awoke sleeping beauty. After all… that would mean I’d have to skip to the process where I gut you like a fish.”
Silence. Dylan was absolutely shell-shocked. His skin grew pale from fright and his hand gripped the phone so tightly the plastic cracked. The man on the other side released low, rumbling chuckles. They were enjoying this. And, as much as he wanted to call bullshit, Dylan knew whoever was on the other side was looking at them and had a manic interest in his sister in particular.
It frightened him to the core of his being.
“Who are you?” Dylan stuttered, barely above a whisper. He turned toward Y/n, who was still fast asleep. She had tuned out the phone call. Dylan wished she hadn’t. But she was known for being a deep sleeper. And that scared him. 
“I don’t think that’s what you should be asking right now, Dylan,” the voice hissed venomously. “What you should be asking is: How long has your front door been unlocked?”
“Fuck you, asshole!” Dylan suddenly boomed. Y/n jumped, sitting up instantly in bewilderment. Dylan was frightened, though. So very frightened. And, in his concern, he threw the phone down on the ground before making a mad dash to the front door.
By now Y/n was wide awake. She stood up and reached for the phone. Dylan was so frightened that she knew not to disturb him. And when she leaned over and picked dup the phone she heard nothing but loud beeping on the other side. She was perturbed. She wanted nothing more to type in nine-one-one.
Dylan in the meanwhile crashed into the front door. He froze, though, realizing that the front door was locked. He wasn’t sure whether to be relieved or even further distressed. His mind was racing with questions but all he knew to do was return to his dearest sister and call the police and arm himself.
“Dylan? Is someone at the front door?” Y/n called shakily, holding the phone in her grasp.
Dylan gulped, turning back. He was frozen for a moment, eyes gazing around the kitchen and living room. Whoever was there, they were either outside or they were inside. And neither of those possibilities were good. Whoever was watching them were confident with whatever they were planning to do and that terrified the man to his very core.
Especially for his sister’s sake.
“I don’t know. Y/n, call the police.”
Y/n was quick to listen, dialing in the number. Dylan kept peering out the front door, waiting to see a face amidst the dim porch light that he previously flicked on. There was nothing and yet, he could feel predatory eyes glued to his form.
Y/n finished punching in the numbers and hit to dial it. Her heart was racing and she was scared. Was the local murder after them too now? Several of her classmates had been butchered, and they were either an acquaintance of her’s or a true friend. 
She knew she was next on the chopping block.
“This is the Woodsborro police department —“
Suddenly, the phone began buzzing. The woman blinked for a brief moment, feeling her brother’s urgent eyes watching her. But, not even a second passed and the lights flickered before ehe house was shrouded in darkness. Y/n was petrified, the phone slipping from her grasp. Her eyes were forced to adjust. 
“Fuck! Y/n, we need to go,” Dylan exclaimed, starting down the hallway. 
He went to the closet and moved for the knob while Y/n began moving toward him. She hugged herself tightly tears stinging at the tip of her eyes. Someone was here to hurt them. And she knew it was the local serial killer that was seemingly targeting high schoolers.
Y/n was barely around the couch when Dylan threw the closet door open. It banged against the wall loudly. 
All of a sudden, a high-pitched shriek escaped the grown man. Something emerged from the closet, adorning an inky coat. They tackled Dylan into the wall, and both of them fell to the ground. Y/n screamed, realizing the direness of the situation.
Especially when, within the moonlight, a blade glinted.
“Y/n, run!” Dylan bellowed, pawing at the man above him.
The woman didn’t, though. The attacker was straddling Dylan’s waist while he struggled underneath, and in one fell swoop, he raised his knife. The attacker wore a ghoulish and cartoonish mask, and Y/n could feel the sadism and psychopathy radiating from him.
The figure let out a low, rumbling chuckle. Dylan realized it wasn’t at all like the one on the phone, though. And that scared him. Because whoever was about to stab him wasn’t working alone.
Y/n, as a last minute reaction, dashed at the figure. They but glanced and panicked, lowering the knife. It stabbed into Dylan, but at that moment, Y/n had tackled them to the ground. Her head hit the front door and the attacker’s knife was stuck in Dylan’s bodice. 
The said man was groaning in agony. The knife, instead of being lodged in his heart, landed in his abdomen right underneath. He groped at the knife with shaky hands as blood spewed from the wound. He pulled it out, letting out an agonized cry while doing so.
While Dylan was struggling to push himself off the ground, Y/n was doing the same. The figure was tussling with her, although almost reluctantly. She was flipped over into the wall, her head ringing and vision blurry. She let out another gut-wrenching scream at the top of her lungs but the attacker didn’t seem to mind.
Their gloved hands pushed her against the wall. Y/n pushed at them in order to try and deter them, but it was for nought. As one of her hands reached for the mask, the tilted their head away, almost mockingly. They then shook their head, one hand pressing into her throat.
Y/n let out a squawk, instead directing her attention to the new pressure. The attacker was having fun with them and she hated it. It scared her that someone could derive such sick pleasure from murder. Tears slid down her cheeks as she felt the breath leave her body the harder they squeezed.
In the corner of her eye, she saw that Dylan was on his hands and knees, crawling toward them. His teeth were gritting to withhold cries of pain. He was trying to reach them so desperately as Y/n flailed underneath the attacker’s grip.
And suddenly, the killer, as though realizing her attention was elsewhere, peering over his shoulder. 
By that point Dylan was close enough. He swung the knife, slashing at the killer’s back. A high-pitched curse escaped their lips, but they were seemingly well enough. Their grubby hands abandoned Y/n, instead flipping over and kicking Dylan. The knife went flying, and so did he.
As Dylan’s body flopped, a resounding crack echoed. Y/n rubbed at her throat, hungrily gulping in more air. She pulled her leg away, and the attacker’s attention was no longer on her. Instead, they stumbled to their feet, aiming to finish off her brother.
Through choked sobs, Y/n tried to push herself up with the help of the front door. Her fingers clawed desperately at the chain lock, although her gaze remained trained on the killer. She cried,” What d - do you want?”
The killer seemingly ignored her, walking over to Dylan’s laying form. He was weak and his blood stained his entire body, still seeping out of the wound. The killer tilted his head at the man, who was eagerly using what strength he had to push himself further away.
It was in vein, though, because the killer was quick to raise his foot and bring it down upon his stomach. Dylan let out an anguished guffaw, clawing at the foot. The cargo boot remained, though, instead pressing further. Blood spilled and stained the articles of clothes, and the attacker clearly preferred it that way.
Only then did the gravity of the situation hit her. Dylan was barely conscious. The knife had slid somewhere into the kitchen or living room. Her dearest brother was bleeding out and she was almost strangled. 
As badly as she wanted to save Dylan, deep down, she knew he was a goner. He couldn’t run. His ankle was sprained. He couldn’t fight. His strength was quickly leaving him. He couldn’t call the police. The power was shut off.
“Please…!” Dylan cried out, gripping at the foot tightly. 
The killer continued to push further. More and more cracks sounded. There was even some echoing squishes from Dylan’s body. However, the attacker wasn’t paying attention to him anymore. Instead, he raised his masked hands and tilted his head at Y/n.
Y/n’s movements froze and her brows furrowed. There was almost something familiar about the attacker and their hands curled and connected, forming a small heart. They paused in that moment, and even though their entire body was covered, there was something lovesick about their demeanor.
In one fell swoop the chain fell off. Y/n could spare no more time, seeing that her brother was but a twitching bodice. Her vision was blurred with tears and her fingers turned the last lock. Her brain was too panicked to form a coherent plan.
All that she thought was run.
But, as threw the door open, she replied that behind her, her attacker hadn’t moved an inch. Their gaze was glued to her form.
And, as she went to step onto the porch, she realized why.
Amidst the darkness, was another cloaked figure. They were shorter but broader in stature, although they wore the same inky cape and caricature mask. A scream released from her throat as the other attacker’s hands flew to her, trying to restrain her.
Two low chuckles released. For a moment, she struggled, as two hands clasped onto her shoulder. However, her knee raised and hit them right in the crotch.
The now realized man hadn’t been expecting that. She was freed instantly as the man stumbled back a bit before their knees crumpled. His hands went to massage his crotch, and Y/n was almost relieved for a second. She raised her foot, wanting so dearly to get past. She prepared to kick the man out of the way.
Just then, two strong arms looped around her waist and pulled her away. Another screech escaped as she flailed and struggled, but was once again pulled into the house. She kept struggling against the attacker, and said attacker kept backing up clearly struggling to see her contained in his arms.
One hand went to claw at the mask, and she heard a grunt of annoyance. Meanwhile, though, the other rose to his feet. He hobbled slightly, still grasping at the wound. He leaned against the doorway for support, panting angrily. His gaze was glued to us, and I saw he was fishing around his cloak for something. He was about to pull something from his pocket, when suddenly, the other’s footing failed them.
The killer fell on his back, having tripped over Dylan’s corpse. Y/n couldn’t help but cry out, wishing for even one car to drive past. Maybe if she screamed loud enough, her neighbors from down the street would hear. And yet, all her thoughts abandoned her as the masked man spoke.
“Stu, you fucking dumbass!”
A sense of betrayal washed over her. 
“Hey, man, I’m trying my best here!”
It was Billy and Stu. Her classmates. Her friends. Her best friends.
Her brain short-circuited. However, the moment she felt the figure who now revealed themselves as Stu trying to prop himself up on his elbows, she rolled off. Her flesh crawled when she felt spirts of her brother’s blood sprinkle against her skin. Stu cursed and tried to grab her, and Billy realized that Y/n was still terrified for her life and wasn’t giving herself up.
“Fuck…!” Billy cursed, stumbling over.
He tried to grab her ankle, but the moment his hand ghosted over her ankle, she kicked. The man yelped. By then, Stu was sitting up and reaching toward her. Their movements were strained, and it was like they’d lost all focus and were flustered. They fucked up just enough to ruin their game plan.
Y/n, with tears streaming down her face, skidded across the floor on her knees. The moment she reached the corner of the wall, she used it to pull herself up. She paid the petty argument of her former friends echoing behind her, and it was like for a split second they forgot one of their victims was getting away. That is, until Y/n darted out of sight.
She was aiming for the patio door. But, suddenly, The taller, lankier form that she now recognized as Stu full throttled himself into the glass. It didn’t break, but he’d successfully - although rather panicked - blocked the escape route.  Another scream threatened to release, but by then, she knew destroying her throat would yield no results. All she knew was that two psychos were trying to kill her.
She swerved, only to realize that Billy had bent over and picked up the kitchen knife. He was directly standing in the hallway, leaving her with only one route. Billy turned it over in his hand as if to admire the shiny red coat it now adorned, although his gaze was glued to her form. 
“Y/n,” Stu purred from behind her, his footsteps no longer muted. “Where are ya tryin’ to go, babe?”
Y/n’s teeth grit together, and she couldn’t help but glance at Dylan’s corpse. ‘Run,’ his voice echoed in her head. His final words had been that of a warning. A fearful, knowing warning. Y/n was so very conflicted. She wanted her brother back and was completely exhausted and betrayed and hurt and… But she also had a primal instinct to survive.
“I think we gave her quite a fright, Stu,” Billy snickered.
Shivers rolled down her spine. Slowly but surely, both men had been closing in in her. Stu was but a few feet behind, his moves oddly calculated in comparison to his clumsy persona. And Billy… he was even slower. He lurked near the hallway just in case, knife glinting menacingly in the darkness.
“W - why are you doing this?” she squeaked fearfully, clenching her fists.
“You really don’t know? God, you’re less observant than shit for brains over there.”
Her heart thumped erratically in her chest. When Billy took one more step toward her, the woman was left with her fight or flight response. And she was tired and scared and confused. So, without a second to spare, she shrieked out of fright and ran like a maniac toward the stairs. Both men let out bellowing, cruel laughter.
Perhaps she was too loud, but she could barely hear them pursuing. She went to her bedroom, swinging the door open. It was shrouded in darkness, and as she turned to slam the door, an arm shot through. She slammed it anyways, and Stu let out a yawp of agony.
His arm slid slightly, but Y/n continued to attempt to force the door shut. She wasn’t too strong, but Stu was desperate. Only his hand was still lodged between, and he continued to flail and bang on the door. Somehow, he still seemed so Stu-like. Not angry in the slightest. Just confused and cheerful, like he was at school.
Well, at least, that was until he opened his mouth.
“Billy, goddammit! Get your sorry ass up here and help before I skin you alive!”
He was roaring at the top of his lungs. He was still grunting out of pain. Y/n pushed with all her might against the door, profusely sweating. She felt so weak, especially when a second fist began banging at the door. She squeezed her eyes shut.
“Open the door or you’ll fucking regret it, Y/n! There’s no getting out of this!”
A fearful squeak escaped and she pushed herself further. All of a sudden, though, Billy’s banging stopped. She feared for the worst digging her bare feet into the floor of her once comforting and lovely bedroom. All of a sudden her body swung away as Billy threw himself against the door. A scream escaped as she fell back onto the floor, aches covering her entire body.
The door burst open and slammed into the wall. The two cloaked figures hovered threateningly in the doorway. Stu pulled up his lanky sleeve, and Y/n noticed that the door did a number. Much of the skin on his arm was torn. However, when he raised his head, she could tell he was glaring at her through his ghoulish mask. And Billy…
He was panting furiously. His shoulders heaved with every breath, and the grip on his knife was deathly tight. Some of the cloak had torn under miscellaneous circumstances, and a white teeshirt barely peaked through the cut. Y/n watched his movements particularly, because Billy had a weapon and as far as she knew, he aimed to use it.
She continued to scoot backwards on her butt until she hit the wall right beside her bed. She gulped, her mouth dry. Her entire body trembled with fear and she squeezed her eyes shut in fear. She was going to die. Today was the end of her life.
If heaven was real, she could only hope she ended up there.
Her eyes shot open once more as the floorboards creaked and in they came. Stu was still cradling his bare arm, so Billy shut and locked the door behind him. Their movements were slow. Sadistic. They were calculating every move. It baffled Y/n to no end that her two goofball best friends were capable of murder. And that she was on the list.
It honestly hurt. Her head pounded with misery as she accepted her fate. Her nails, which previously dug into the wall behind her, now lowered and her shoulders drooped expectantly. Her neck craned, watching their every move. She was watching and waiting, just like they were doing.
It was cruel of them to milk every ounce of fear from her. She thought her friendship would mean more to them.
“Aw, would you look at that, Billy,” Stu cooed mockingly. “She’s all scared and frightened. Don’t worry, baby, we aren’t going to hurt you, are we, Billy?”
“Mhm,” Billy hummed. “We were just scaring you a little, doll. You don’t really think we’d gut you like everyone else, huh?”
Y/n blinked in confusion, exchanging glances between the pair. They were slowly advancing toward her huddled, terrified form. Y/n pulled her knees to her chest reluctantly, trying to create more distance. However, when they were looming over her, both crouched down. She was completely cornered.
Billy raised the knife, gently ghosting it underneath her jawline. Y/n kept tilting her head further upwards until she couldn’t, but the knife didn’t press any further. It was but a pinch at her flesh. More tears spilled and Stu cooed quietly, gloved hand reaching toward his mask.
He removed it, revealing his expression. He wasn’t angry anymore. However, a mocking, pitiful pout was prominent on his lips. The mask plopped to the ground and both figures were drowning in their large cloaks. As the knife remained, Billy did the same, revealing his smug expression. He looked so happy.
“What’s wrong, doll? Why aren’t you talking to us, huh?”
Y/n gulped, feeling the blade graze against her throat as her flesh bobbed. A frown tugged at her lips and she couldn’t help but cast her gaze away, focusing instead on her knee cap. Her heart was deafeningly loud and she couldn’t help but wonder if the crazed maniacs heard it too.
“Aw, baby, don’t be giving us the silent treatment here. What’s on your mind?”
For some reason, that was what set her off. Through gritted teeth, she boomed,” Just get it over with, assholes! S - stop toying with me!”
It was like both of them froze in their place. Stu’s dimpled grin faded and his eyes dulled in a deep irritation. His face was long and forlorn eyes glaring over her body slowly. Billy, on the other hand, was just as calm. The only indication of a change in emotion was the narrowing of his eyes and the twitch of his small smirk. 
Y/n shut her eyes, expecting for the knife to dig into her throat. Especially when Billy dragged it down her throat and down to her collarbone. It lingered right there over the exposed flesh, poking it tauntingly. At the same time, though, Y/n’s attention flitted over to Stu.
She’d never seen him so serious before. With one quick tug, Stu had pulled his glove off, revealing his hand. Gently, so very gently, his hand raised to her cheek. His eyes roamed every inch of her expression and his thumb rubbed circles across her cheek. If not for the looming threat of the knife digging into her skin, she would’ve jerked away. But, instead, she tried to tilt her head, although it yielded no such helpful results.
Noticing, Stu bit the inside of his lip and furrowed his brows. “I’m starting to feel kinda bad, Billy. You sure we didn’t take it too far —?”
Stu had seemingly set him off and Billy’s knife-wielding hand jerked back. He glared venomously at the man, a sneer breaking onto his face. “Are you fucking with me, Stu? We’re right here at the end of the plan and you feel bad? Don’t tell me you were okay with just watching the way those assholes looked at her —“
“No, no, not that! I just mean… Maybe we should’ve been a little smoother and chloroformed her first.”
Billy’s anger faded and he tilted his head in consideration, eyes rolled back in their sockets slightly. “…Huh. Maybe. But does it matter? We’re here now.”
The entire time, Y/n was watching the interaction warily. Her brain was churning with an explanation. She knew that they were toying with her. But the moment chloroform entered the conversation, her imagination lit up with any explanation as to what would happen.
Were they planning to… torture her? But what did she ever do wrong?
She blinked away some spilled tears and Billy glanced back at her. He clicked his tongue and tossed the knife over his shoulder entirely. It clinked somewhere else in the bedroom. His hand, which was gloveless in a moment’s notice, moved to her cheek, too. Stu’s grip became tighter and his thumb stopped, watching Billy’s action tensely.
Billy quickly, almost irritatedly, wiped away the tears from her under her eye. There was a silence that fell over as the pair just watched. And she watched back, weary and emotionally exhausted. She wished, with ever fiber of her being that they would change their minds about whatever they planned to do and just gave her an easy death.
Their eyes narrowed in sync, prodding further. “Why what, baby?” Stu muttered curiously.
Y/n gulped, trying to conjure up an ending to the question she didn’t want to know the answer to.
“Why do you hate me so much? I - I thought we were… friends…”
Stu’s jaw dropped dramatically and regretfully, while Billy was much better at controlling his shock, his brows raising. There was a stunned silence for but a moment, the pair exchanging glances. They almost seemed to regret what they were doing. But Y/n knew better. They planned it out so much, and they’d taken so great a glee of draining her brother’s body of life.
Billy, as his tongue rolled across his bottom lip, answered,” Oh, doll. We didn’t mean to scare you that bad. We don’t hate you, do we, Stu?”
“No, no, no,” Stu chimed, as though Y/n had asked the most abhorrent question humanly possible. He was stuttering so innocently that it confused her. “How could we ever hate you, baby? You don’t really think we’re trying to hurt you, do you? W - we’d never do that, baby. We were just tying to scare you —“
“You killed my brother! My friends!” Y/n suddenly shrieked, finding the willpower to swipe at both of their filthy paws.
But the moment she did so, a sense of horror paralyzed her. Stu’s face fell, although there was clearly a seething anger underneath. His glare was harsh as he gripped onto her wrist, painfully so. Y/n had to prevent a yelp of pain from escaping, biting her lip tightly. 
Billy, though, wouldn’t stand for it. His fury bubbled over and his hand shot out to her throat. It hurt for but a moment, as he was clearly trying not to squeeze the living daylights out of her. But his hands were trembling. No, his entire body was. The fury was overflowing, and yet his glare was seemingly looking right through her.
Y/n clasped onto his wrist tightly, lips blubbering fearfully. 
Billy finally hissed,” It’s what’s good for you. You don’t even know how cruel it was for you to prance around high school for everyone else to ogle at. They aren’t worthy. Nobody is. Not your brother, not your friends, not that stupid jock that flirted with you. Do you understand?”
Stu, his voice just as low and threatening, added,” You’re our’s, baby. We ain’t letting anyone getting in the way, got it? Not even you.”
Y/n’s fragile heart shattered. She understood, and yet, at the same time she didn’t. It was like puzzle pieces she didn’t know existed clicked together. It seemed so irrational. Every word they spoke was total bullshit to her. And yet…
She always blamed it on them being that great of friends. She brushed off the fact that Billy was touchier with her than he ever was with Sidney. And Stu barely took his eyes off her when she was around. They constantly sought her out. They constantly drowned her in compliments. They helped her and comforted her.
She always assumed that it was because they were friends. They’d known each other for so long that…
“But… what about…”
Billy snorted in disdain. “Sidney’s just some whore like her mother was. Nobody is a worthy basis of comparison for you, so stop spewing bullshit —“
Stu, noticing how his harsh words frightened the woman before them, warily overpowered his voice until Billy shut up. “W - what we mean to say, baby, is they just ain’t worth our time. You’re all we really care about, baby. Who cares about Tatum or Sidney or anyone when nobody else is as perfect as you? You’re just the sweetest angel on earth, okay, baby?”
Much to Stu’s dismay, it was clear that his soft explanation only frightened her further. Y/n began shaking her head wildly and Billy withdrew his hand from her throat. Stu released her, too, and the pair watched in frustrated silence as she buried her head in her knees, breaking out into loud, echoing sobs. 
Amidst the echoing cries, Stu sighed. “See, Billy? Now I just feel bad. Can we just, uh, take her home?”
Billy hummed in agreement, and the inquiry made Y/n seize up in horror. She raised her head with wide doe eyes, shrinking even further into the wall as Billy fished through the pocket of his cloak in annoyance. Neither of them were happy. 
While Stu’s delusional and crazed mind thought things would go smoother and that she’d understand, Billy knew better. But, in all honesty, he didn’t care if she hated their guts. As long as she was their’s, he couldn’t give a rat’s ass what she thought about them. The only thing they agreed on was that, sooner or later, she’d come around to their affection.
So, Billy withdrew a soaked white cloth from his pocket. It smelled horrible, and Y/n’s nose picked up on it instantly. She went to push away Billy’s hand, but Stu’s fingers tangled around her wrists, restraining her. Right before the cloth pressed to her mouth, she let out the mightiest scream she could muster.
And then, downstairs, alone, abandoned, and hurt, Dylan stirred. He gulped, immediately letting out a quiet gasp as the memories flooded him. He awoke to a scream and his blood ran cold. After that, the house became deadly silent. He feared for the worst. So, even amidst the agony his wounds thrust upon him,  he forced himself up. 
His hands guided him along the walls of the house, his only support as the other hand immediately went to clutch at the stab wound. All he saw was red, and the beating of his heart was slow and labored. In the distance, he swore he heard police sirens, but he also recognized that in his dying state, it could be his mind conjuring up hallucinations.
He crawled up the stairs on his hands and knees, labored pants escaping. It was so hard to breathe. He was positive that he was crying and sweating blood. But he just needed to make sure his baby sister was okay. And, as he progressed even slower up the steps, he found himself using but his arms to pull himself up. He lost all feeling in his legs.
And then, he arrived at the top. He couldn’t even push himself up. He could but claw himself along the floor, his heart slowing with every passing minute. And then as he pulled himself into the doorway, he saw it with his last, dying breath.
Absolutely nothing but an open window.
A knife.
And two ghost face masks adjacent to one another.
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dreamy-bimbo · 7 months ago
— “what's your favorite scary movie?”
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ghostface!bakugou katsuki x reader
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a/n — yeah so like i was right. and i made it happen.
synopsis — while your disruptive roommate is out on the town running a couple errands, you receive a phone call that should've been your worst nightmare. but it actually ends up being the most rapturous dream you've ever had.
tw — voyeurism, degradation, guided masturbation, dirty talk, use of toys, everything is consensual, implied chubby reader
wc - 3,037
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very, very loud. and angry. extremely angry.
needless to say, you relished in the silent moments you were given when he left to run errands. you don't know who had half a mind to leave the house at 6 P.M. to do anything when there's some freak in a halloween costume running around, but the man was 6 foot with the muscles of an obnoxious gym goer. you're pretty sure he can manage some horror movie fanatic.
needless to say, you relished in the silent moments you were given when he left to run errands. you don't know who had half a mind to leave the house at 6 P.M. to do anything when there's some freak in a halloween costume running around, but the man was 6 foot with the muscles of an obnoxious gym goer. you're pretty sure he can manage some horror movie fanatic.
you sigh softly and sink into the soft plush of the couch. it wasn't necessarily the best place to be lazing around on, but nothing beat laying on a couch on a cool fall evening with the heater on. utter bliss, you think.
sadly your bliss is interrupted as soon as you hear the telltale sign of your stomach rumbling for food. a groan leaves your lips at the thought of having to get up and actually put effort into something, but you immediately remember that you splurged on some mini popcorn bags a couple days ago on a grocery store trip with katsuki, and suddenly all effort has been lifted.
as you get up to go pop a bag in the microwave, you wonder. speaking of the grocery trip, what other errands did he really have to do? unless errands meant picking up some random chick to fuck to get rid of some pent up aggression, then it would make sense. but then again, katsuki didn't really seem like that kind of guy. he was a bit of a jerk, sure, but he was respectful.
oh well, everyone has their flaws.
once your popcorn's out of the microwave, you pour some into a bowl and march your way upstairs to your bedroom. sure, laying on a couch was great but if you had to pick between it and the comfort of your bed, there was only one sure winner.
and that was plopping onto your mattress with an oversized hoodie and popcorn while watching crime documentaries. a couch couldn't really live up to that, could it?
you think that no, it could not, as you set the bowl on your bedside table and jump onto your warm fluffy bed, before jumping back up and switching your pc and monitor on so you could watch aforementioned crime documentaries.
your head hits the pillow once you find a suitable one, and you don't pay a single mind to the open curtains on your window. you were on the second floor, who would even be able to peep at you from the frontyard?
"some piece of shit with crazy strength," you giggle, before turning your attention back to the screen.
about half an hour scrolls by, and for a minute you think that you should probably check up on katsuki. he's been gone a while and it's getting a bit too dark for someone to be out when basically the entire town's on lockdown.
you have half a mind to call him, but decide on a simple text. if your previous inquiries were correct, you didn't want to interrupt him while he's balls deep inside of some random chick.
'hey, you good?'
his reply is near instant.
'yeah, almost home.'
okay, good. he wasn't dead or being terrorized by a creep in a robe and mask.
that reply was a bit too fast though. like he was waiting for you to text him.
or maybe he was just punctual, who knows.
you shrug it off and turn your attention back to the documentary, before you're caught off guard by your phone ringing. it makes you jump and you almost scream until you realize what's happening.
the id reads 'unknown number.'
the decision was simple, end the call and return to peace, or entertain yourself with some random asshole on the other line.
you chose the latter.
"what's your favorite scary movie?"
oh, fuck.
fear strikes you in the middle of your chest and you rush to hang up, but you're interrupted by the man on the other line growling at you that "if you even dare to hang up, i'll tear up your pretty insides and gut you like a fish."
oh fuck. oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck this is happening.
shakily, you raise your phone back up and whimper when he laughs and praises you for making the right decision.
"good girl," he says, in his deep, raspy voice. the statement shouldn't make your legs quiver as much as it does.
"w-what do you want? i promise i won't tell anyone if you let me-"
"what i want, is for you to answer my fucking question."
you gulp.
"my... my favorite scary movie..?"
he hums in agreement.
"yes sweetheart, your very favorite. come on, tell dear ol' ghosty just what you like.."
the little voice in the back of your head squeals at his word choice and tone, and the saner part of your conscience yells at it for even thinking such lewd things about a murderer.
but the other small part of you shivers at the slight japanese accent his voice contains.
"i... i um.. i don't really have a favorite, they're all really good."
the displeased groan he lets out sends electricity quivering straight down to your cunt.
"oh come on, not even one? i bet you don't even watch scary movies, do you? what genre do you like?"
oh, that's easy.
"my kinda girl."
your face heats up, and yet again you mentally degrade yourself for thinking such things about this stranger. but it takes your mind to a different place.
how would he degrade you?
his small hum brings you back to reality.
"so, sweetcheeks. tell me. if you can't choose one, the give me a couple that you like. i'm sure you can think of at least three."
three, huh? he was going easy on you. on purpose. he could probably hear how nervous you are, and took the tiniest bit of pity on you.
then again, he could just not give a shit entirely. you decided that was the case.
"i.. um.. i really liked black christmas! and.. and house of wax was really good too... and the texas chainsaw massacre.."
"oh really? never knew a girl like you would ever like movies like those."
like you? did.. did he know you? the simple set of words terrifies you. oh god, he knew you, he knew you in real life, he has known you, he's interacted with you.
there was a good chance he was yet again fucking with you, but it stays in the back of your mind, worsening the shaking of your legs and the light throbbing between them.
you were disgusting.
"hello? dollface.. i know you hear me talking to ya, don't fucking ignore me. do i have to come over there and knock some sense into that pretty little head?"
oh shit, you were still on the phone, right.
"no! no i'm still here, i'm here, please."
"good doll. you seem a bit distracted, don't you? what's on your mind. you can tell me, i won't tell anyone. it'll be our little secret."
how could you tell him? how could you tell this stranger, this monster, that every word he spoke sent sparks straight to your pussy? that you'd gladly get on your knees if he so much as said the word, and let him do anything to you?
no, no you couldn't tell him that. you'd be ridiculed, humiliated, and most likely even killed.
"could it be, that you're thinking how i'd look between your legs?"
oh. well, you certainly didn't expect that. at all.
he chuckles softly.
"disgusting, nasty little fuckin' slut. you get a call from the ghostface, and all you can imagine is him fuckin' you? you really do think with your pussy, hah?"
he's right, oh god he's right. you're shameful, horrid.
tears well up in your eyes, and you hiccup a small "no.."
"oh no, i think you are thinkin' that. but don't cry, little girl. i'm not shaming you,"
he pauses for a second.
"i like it."
you whimper in shock, and that little voice in your head is screaming, because finally, you're getting what you want.
you wouldn't call yourself experienced, not at all, but even if you were you were sure that you would have never stooped to this caliber.
and here you were.
your ears twitch when he speaks again.
"i'm givin' ya a choice here, alright? you don't want this, and i'll give ya' some mercy. you do? i'll gladly give you what you want. all ya' have to do is say the word."
"yeah, really. i'm a killer, not a monster. my mom raised me half-right."
you almost giggle at his weak attempt at a joke, but you instead sniffle and wipe your tears before nodding.
"i.. y-yes. please. i want it."
"good fuckin' girl. get nice and comfortable for me doll, ghostface is gonna make you feel all warm and good."
listening to his instructions, "lay back, take your panties off, and spread your legs," you lay back on your lump of pillows and buck your hips up as you peel your panties off, whining when the cool air grazes your cunt. guess the heater hasn't reached your room yet.
ghostface growls on the other end, and you hear a small shuffling of fabric.
"fuck, i love that sound."
he's touching himself. oh fuck.
your clit throbs at the thought of it, and you reach to soothe your achiness, but you're stopped.
"don't even think about touching that sweet pussy without my permission, slut."
you jump.
he can see you?!
no, no of course not. he just has good timing, right?
you have half a mind to ignore his instructions and do it anyway, which you do. not like he can actually see you.
"what the fuck did i just say, you little bitch?"
oh my fucking god he can actually see you.
you tear your hand away from the needy wetness of your pussy and whine again, eliciting a deep growly laugh from the other end of the phone. it's mocking and you can hear his ego drip from his voice. it commands authority and you can't help but love it.
"what," he coos, "you wanna touch yourself? wanna rub your fat little clit till it's all red and swollen? or maybe you wanna shove your little fingers up your whore cunt till you're creamy? not like you can reach anywhere.. your hands are so small.."
you've got to give it to him. he definitely has a way with words, because you buck your soft hips into the air each time he speaks, and the way your thighs jiggle makes his cock throb. not that you would know.
"answer me, sweet girl."
"yes! please, please i wanna.. i need to, please.."
he laughs again, and god that laugh, it makes you melt straight into your pillows and forget about all your worries.
"how can i say no? gonna need to hear you beg more princess, but that's for later. now, ya got any little toys around? vibes? dildos?"
"i- i have a bullet one.. in my bedside table.."
the menacing tone in his voice almost scares you.
"you just made a big mistake, princess."
he was right. very right, you think, as you press the now warmed up vibe into your clit and you squeal at the sudden stimulation. he orders you to put it on the high setting, and who are you to disobey?
he promises you multiple orgasms, and you believe him. if he can't be there to fuck you in person, might as well overstimulate you in other ways, right?
he talks you through it the whole time, cooing disgusting words into the phone as it resonates in your ears, and it only enhances your upcoming orgasm.
"god, the things i would to do your sweet fuckin' body.. i've seen ya around princess, with your pretty fucking shorts and t-shirts, and every time i even look at you i wanna beat that little pussy up."
"mm fuck.. i wanna taste you. always had a thing for eating girls out, especially thick ones like you. shit, nothin' beats having a shy lil' pillow princess wrap her thighs around your face while you suck on her clit. always have the fattest cunts too.."
"wish i was there with you, y'know? eat you up like a fuckin' animal. that bakugou dick's an absolute dumbass, if i were him i'd fuck you up every chance i get.. don't know how he controls himself around you."
"you gonna cum? yeah? you fuckin' better, cum for ghostface girlie.. oh.. yeah that's it babygirl, keep goin', nuh-uh, don't care if it's too much you're going until i'm satisfied."
and that you did, sobbing through orgasm after orgasm until he decided your torture was prolonged enough. as he sweet talks you through your nth one, he finally tells you to turn the vibe off and take it off of your clit.
but he tells you you're still not done, that it's his turn now. and that's when you realize he's been holding back for the last hour just to make you feel good, and your stomach erupts in butterflies, as if he hadn't just talked you through cumming countless times.
"c'mon woman, tell me all the things you want me to do to ya, that you wanna do to me."
"i- oh- um- i don't-"
"don't gimme that 'i don't' bullshit. did you forget what we literally just did? go ahead. tell me."
and you do.
"um.. i.. i want you to eat me out."
he growls.
"yeah? describe it, will ya?"
"i.. i want you to- to spread my legs, 'nd.."
" 'nd what?"
"and.. 'nd kiss my cunt."
the pornographic moan he lets out makes you whimper.
"fuck, you're so cute, keep goin'."
you tell him, you tell him all the things you want- no, need him to do. that you want him to take it slow, leave soft little kisses over your tummy, thighs, and finally on your even softer little pussy. maybe even your clit.
he rebuttals your statement.
"and what if i make out what your little pussy, mm? cover it with my lips.. i've been told i have a big mouth."
you bite your lip.
"i'd.. i'd like that."
"of course y'would."
you continue.
he asks you how you think he'd fuck you, you answer.
"you'd go rough on me.. right?"
"mhm.. fuck.."
"i don't think you'd stretch me out.. probably'd just use your cock.."
"you'd be right, girlie."
"but.. but what if i want you to be gentle?"
"for you? fuckin' anything.."
it's a little bit of back and forth for a while, before he finally spills into his hands and growls out a drawn out moan that makes your already shaky thighs tremble even more.
you can hear the 'shlick, shlick, shlick,' as he strokes himself through his orgasm, and figure that he came, a lot.
after a while of silence, your sinful partner finally responds again.
"well sweet girl, i gotta go.. my job is.. clearly done," he laughs.
you pout softly and whine.
"aw, don't be sad, i'll be back."
you hear him mumble, "i'm definitely doin' this again."
"mm.. alright.. goodbye, dollface.."
you grumble back a sweet bye and face plant into your pillow, before screaming.
you just did that. you actually just did that. you just dirty talked someone through an orgasm after they did the same.
he was a murderer, sure, but hey, at least he didn't force himself on you.
you giggle in pure bliss as you stare up at the ceiling before reality slaps you in the face.
how the fuck could he see you? and where's katsuki?
as soon as you can even get up, you hear the front door slam open, and a grouchy yell of "i'm back!!" rings through your bloodshot ears. okay, good, he still hasn't been killed. that's really good.
you hastily slip on some shorts and go downstairs to greet him, with a pervy smile on your face.
"so... you have fun?"
he scowls at you, "the fuck's that smile for? and the hell are you talkin' about?"
"oh come on!!" you laugh, "no one leaves for almost two hours at night without fucking someone. c'mon. tell your dear ol' friend."
katsuki stays silent for a couple seconds.
".... no one important."
"so you did fuck someone!! come on! tell me, please, i beg of you dear sir."
"why the hell do you care so much about my sex life?"
a pout graces your lips.
"you tellin' me you wouldn't ask the same questions?"
he flicks your forehead and hands you a small tub of something. he doesn't say anything before pushing past you and stomping his way upstairs, to no doubt sleep.
once you notice it's your favorite ice cream, you yell a grateful "thank you!" to him from the kitchen, and he can't help but smile. good, you didn't notice the clunky bag he was holding.
and you also didn't notice the fact that his car's been in the driveway for the past hour and a half. or how he was a clear view of your bedroom with a pair of binoculars, and the burner phone he keeps in his pocket at all times.
or the fact, that the growly voiced man who just made you fuck yourself, is the same man who just freely entered your home, handed you a tub of ice cream, and went upstairs to sleep.
he scoffs.
"stupid fuckin' girl.."
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polyghostfacehours · 5 months ago
how would billy or stu react to someone flirting/ trying to get with their girl?
It'd be an event for sure lol.
Went Gender Neutral for this one since I think they'd react very similarly regardless of S.O's gender tbh. Also did Billy, Stu and then poly.
TW: Very mild NSFW mentions
poly!Ghostface with Someone Trying to Flirt with GN!Reader:
Billy in particular is pretty territorial. He doesn't have many people he would consider friends or even important, so seeing someone so blatantly try something on his S.O lights something in him.
Outwardly, he's cool as a cucumber - don't want to draw too much attention to himself after all - but on the inside he's raging.
If it's one-off flirting, Billy will definitely wrap an arm or something around his S.O, and give them a quick kiss. Maybe he'd be a little less overt with a male S.O, but ultimately his bf >>>>> people's random ass judgement so he'd for sure do at least something stake his claim.
the biggest side-effect that happens is ultra possessiveness for a few days. Expect to feel his eyes on you anytime you're around him, and expect him to be around you a lot more.
Hickeys lol. Expect hickeys, and lots of them where people can see. We see in the movie Billy has a penchant for necks (both in kissing and in choking lol) so pray yours isn't too sensitive lmao.
Now if someone is trying to straight up get with you? Now that's a huge problem.
Billy already has abandonment issues, and seeing someone try and take you away will inevitably lead him to have nightmares of you leaving. Which in turn manifests in his tendency to not separate reality from fantasy.
He starts thinking those nightmares will be an inevitability if he doesn't stop them, rather than just a byproduct of his insecurity.
Thoughts of killing the person trying to steal you definitely cross his mind more than once. If he spirals, he definitely might.
You'd have to really go out of your way to calm his nerves and intrusive thoughts. He might lash out more. The sex would be rougher than usual.
Stu actually takes pride in showing his S.O's off, so he would actually find it amusing that someone is flirting with you.
His confidence knows no bounds, he'll even tell you to flirt back sometimes for his amusement, just so he can see the disappointment in the person's face once they realize your Stu's. It's sadistic and cruel, but that's just how Stu is.
He's all for PDA, so if he genuinely feels intimidated (the person is super hot, or charismatic, or - god forbid -taller than him😱) he'll jump on groping and kissing you. He'd make some pretty uncomfortable eye contact with the flirter while he does too.
Now, if someone is actively trying to steal you away, Stu goes fucking nuts.
He will shit talk that person all the time, spread rumors, make fun of them.
The more toxic part of him might talk you down a bit. Or at least compliment you less, just so you don't get "a big head" and leave him bc you think you're better than him like Casey did (Stu's thought process here)
You gotta put a stop to it ASAP. Let him know you're not going anywhere.
He'd dom all the time for awhile. He really wants to hammer home that you "belong" to him.
Honestly, he's much more prone to killing recklessly than Billy is, so this person might genuinely end up dead and if you give him any reason to think you're gonna dump him for the flirter.
That being said, it takes awhile to get to that point. Im talking like this person has been pursuing you for awhiiiiile.
He'd also spoil you a lot more. Stu doesn't realize he can't literally buy your love, so he'll start getting some really expensive and unnecessary gifts to show you how much better of a "provider" he is (lets ignore its still mommy and daddy's money lmao)
Now in a poly setting, it can go either way depending on how long youve been together. A lot of above applies to them individually still.
If you three have been together for awhile, it takes more than just a persistent flirt to rile them up. They know they have each other's backs to help reel you in if you get too distant, and honestly they think to themselves that there's no way you'd dump two S.O's for just one.
if you've been together for a shorter time though, like only for a couple of years, that's when it gets a bit dangerous.
Billy may not trust you completely at that point, and the reason he trusts Stu is bc he's known him for many years. If you haven't been around for literal years, he might think you'd cheat.
The positive is that the sex is very you-focused for awhile lol.
The bad is that they get a bit manipulative and toxic to reel you in and make sure the person pursuing you has no chance.
Billy gets touchy at home, always making sure he's touching you in some way or that you're leaning against him (it grounds him but sshhhh he'll never admit that lol)
Stu gets any opportunity to get you to wear his clothes at home. His thinking is "If they wear my clothes they always smell me so ill be on their mind always hehe 🙃"
They'll also try and keep you home more. Especially Stu, though he's a hypocrite bc he goes out all the time. You gotta put your foot down at this point tbh or it spirals and gets worse, going from mildly manipulative to straight up controlling
Billy and Stu are a dream team, but they can sometimes also feed into the worst in each other due to their...darker tendencies lol.
The biggest challenge is grounding them, and kinda playing innocent like you never realized you were being flirted with. That way they get in their heads that you didn't even entertain the person as someone who could steal you away.
For the person's sake, you better put your foot down and tell them you won't and never will be interested. If that person's a real friend, they'll accept that. If they aren't, they'll leave and stop pursuing you, allowing Billy and Stu to give a little victory "Told you so, they only wanted in your pants" smirk/haughty taunt.
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houseforwhores · 3 months ago
poly ghostface x reader | incorrect quotes II
*the couple having dinner together*
y/n: billy, can you pass the salt?
billy: *Throws stu across the table*
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yesimwriting · a day ago
Loving how you write the dynamic between Billy, Stu, and Y/N! They seem much more possessive of her (in a "not yours, not mine, but OURS" kind of way) than they do their *actual* girlfriends, which I'm really enjoying!
Makes me wonder if they used to butt heads over who they chose to date previously. Like, gotta keep up appearances of being Normal Heterosexual Boys, but it sucks when your partner's girlfriend isn't your type.
Anyway, lovely work! Have you posted it on Ao3?
ahh thank you!! and no, i don't write on Ao3 yet, but i've been thinking about it,, i have a wattpad but this is updated a lot more frequently and wattpad is more for the occasional OC idea (might be making a scream one on there soon tho! i have some ideas lol, if anyone's interested)
i really do feel like what makes y/n special to them is that she's theirs in the sense that they both want to have her and keep her around
ohhh i love that concept...i definitely feel like the whole dating thing has definitely caused some conflict between them, especially when dating first comes up
like they've been getting closer and neither of them are big about talking about their emotions, and then billy gets asked out by a girl or stu's parents bring up that they'd love to see him with a nice girl and so they both look into it, and at first they both swear up and down that they couldn't care less bc it wouldn't really change anything
but after stu "accidentally" scares off a perfectly nice girl (it's not his fault, billy, how was stu supposed to know that she'd freak out after seeing a gutted frog the first time she came over to stu's place? he was just practicing for bio class, and technically he didn't threaten her, stu just pointed out that she and the frog had some similarities) they both come to a sort of silent agreement to not bring home anyone the other wouldn't like
which kind of leads to an era of just checking out the same girls, but more in a fantasy sense, maybe even making a game out of who can hook up with a specific girl first, and maybe picking out public girlfriends for each other to make sure no one doubts their ability to be attached to other people or their ability to be heteronormative
and its not like they never have feelings for other people at the same time, but they know their silent boundaries, and as long as they're each others top priorities everything's fine <3
i think they might've given up on the idea of finding the perfect girl worth keeping around, mainly bc of their lack of attachment to other people, but then y/n pulled up and when they both brought her up at the same time they were like 😳 (omg i think it'd be fun to write a fic/drabble that's in the final girl fic universe about billy and stu's thoughts on y/n , specifically that first discussion about her and how she caught their attention)
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billys-lover · 7 months ago
billy x reader imagine where stu outs your feelings for each other and it forces you guys to finally admit it? 🤍
bad liar (b.l x fem!reader)
AN: i’m finally posting!!! i’m so sorry i’ve been so inactive. i’m trying to get to ships and requests so hopefully those will slowly come out within the next little bit!
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warnings: swear words and.. i think that's it!
word count: 818
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“i’m sorry jackass, maybe next time ask me for more than one bag of popcorn.” y/n pouted, shoving stu in the shoulder playfully.
it was movie night for the woodsboro trio, but due to the fact that stu didn’t quite like waiting for billy, who was almost always late, he had started eating and half the bag of popcorn was already gone.
“look maybe if your boyfriend would get here quickly then we wouldn’t be in this predicament!” stu said, flicking the girl in the hip.
“he’s not my boyfriend dumbass, let’s not jump to conclusions.” she said, her face turning a pretty pink.
the taller man laughed, about to make a joke about the blush that had set onto her face but the door pounded, the both of them knowing it was billy.
the two looked at each other, mentally challenging each other to see who could get to the door first and with that, they both made a b-line to the door, stu winning.
“asshole i was supposed to get here first!” she whined, but the man next to her laughed as he opened the door.
billy was unfazed, sending a glare towards stu snd a smile towards the girl beside him. “next time try to be a bit more quiet, could hear the two of you through the door.” he teased, pushing past stu to get into the living room.
with the three of them in the living room, y/n laid down on the both of them, more specifically her head in billy’s lap and her feet in stu’s, and with that, the movie started.
they had settled on night of the living dead. well, stu had settled on night of the living dead, the other two not really having a choice.
about half way through the taller man cleared his throat and spoke, not letting his words register into his brain before he started, “you know if you two would actually date and just admit you love one another instead of coming to me and telling me how you feel, i think you'd guys would be a lot like barbara and ben if they worked-”
mid way through the sentence, he had realized what he said. “i’m.. um” stu stuttered, turning back to the tv and hoping they hadn't heard what he just said.
but of course they had.
“what'd you just say?” billy asked, perking up from his slouching position.
y/n though, went pale. a cold, clammy pale.
stu internally cringed and got up from the couch. “i’m gonna go grab some snacks. you two can talk!”
and with that he left, leaving billy and y/n alone.
it was silent, but the boy spoke up. “you really feel that way about me, sweetheart?” he asked, slightly nudging her shoulder, the girl still beyond embarrassed.
she got up, sitting beside him with her hands in her lap.
“i do. i really, really like you and i have for god knows how long,” she started, her fingers picking at her leggings before continuing. “but i don’t want to ruin this friendship if you don’t feel the same way. look, if this is one-sided, please lets just forget about this. i’m-”
but her sentence was cut short, billy’s lips finding their way to hers. it was weird, a feeling she had been longing for taking over every emotion. her body went hot, her hands flying to his hair, trying to grasp onto the fact that he was here, she was here, and this was finally happening.
after days and nights of literally dreaming about this moment, it was happening.
just not in the context that she thought.
never in a million years did they think that stu slipping up would land them in this position.
they pulled away for a breath, a smile finding its way onto y/n’s face.
“didn't think a pretty girl like you actually had the hots for me.” billy teased, running his thumb over her cheekbone softly.
“you're such a fuckrag,” she laughed, placing another kiss onto his lips before continuing, “i don’t know about you but i always thought i was a bit obvious with my feelings towards you.”
he hummed, a smirk forming on his face, a laugh ripping through his form.
“my god, never in my life did i think i’d be confessing my feelings towards you in stu macher’s living room.”
she smiled, placing one last kiss on his lips before stu came back.
“wanna quit sucking face now that im back?” he teased, placing three bottles of water onto the coffee table.
y/n and billy parted, laughing at stu and his comment.
the movie continued, y/n back in her original position on the two boys, billys hand now in her hair, twirling the ends of her tresses.
“by the way guys, my mom and dad’s room is free if you guys wanna have fun.” he said.
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luminnara · 4 months ago
Obsession | Billy Loomis x Reader Part 2
Billy is obsessed with the reader and doesn’t know whether he wants to fuck you or kill you. Little does he know that there’s more to you than meets the eye...
Billy x GN!reader 
(I actually got some of the inspo for this from behind the mask: the rise of leslie vernon lol)
Part one!
Warnings: glorification of serial killing lol
Tags: @natiebug1 @henhouse-horrors @smenny @aceislivid
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Billy Loomis thought that he was the scariest person in town. He thought that he was the most dangerous. He thought that, besides Stu, he was the most fucked up. 
Billy Loomis was wrong.
Because not that long ago, someone new had moved to Woodsboro. Someone who was just as fucked up as Billy, and who had already done a lot of the things that he and Stu were planning on…except that you had done your killing and then dipped, moving to a new town where nobody would suspect a thing.
When you had seen Billy Loomis for the first time, you had noticed something about him. It was something familiar, something that you recognized in yourself as well…and it got you a little curious. So you started watching him, always careful, always only out of the corner of your eye from an unassuming position across the field or the cafeteria. At first, you thought you were just being paranoid, still riding the high of your last couple kills in Santa Cruz.
But then, you noticed him watching you, and you knew you were right. Billy Loomis was a killer—or at least, had the potential to be one—and he was drawn to you for the same reason you were drawn to him.
You were the same. You were capable of killing, and you did. Or…wanted to. You weren’t sure if he had already, though you were willing to be that he had at least thought about it. Maybe he had planned something out. Maybe he was too busy stalking you to kill anyone.
Or maybe he was going to kill you.
You wondered if he would be able to. You’d been face to face with death so many times that it wouldn’t surprise you if Billy took a stab at you. Nobody had managed it so far, but you had seen the desperation in their eyes, the way that they tended to go absolutely feral in their last moments of life. You had seen more than a couple people who wanted nothing more than to turn the tables and murder you for a change.
Still, despite the possibility that Billy Loomis wanted to gut you like a fish, you weren’t too worried about him. You started up a boring daily routine with the hope that he would learn it and then use it to his advantage. You hoped that he would memorize your movements and then pop out at you one day, or come slithering through your window before you closed it at night. You hoped Billy would try something with you, because as you had watched him and he had watched you, you’d sort of…grown fond of him? Come to like him, almost? You were amused and curious, and you left him plenty of openings to come say hello.
And then the days dragged on and they turned into weeks, and you got sick of waiting. You took it upon yourself to address the elephant in the room, and all your weeks of boredom and domesticity and not murdering people were suddenly worth it just for the shocked look on his face. He really had no idea that you’d been watching him, and it was just as sad as it was adorable.
The next day at school, he was openly staring at you. You watched his head swivel as you walked past him and his friends, and you saw Stu Macher notice and look at you, too. Then, you heard his girlfriend hit his arm and yell at him for ogling you, and you chuckled to yourself.
Billy hadn’t expected to find a note in his locker that day, but he knew who it was from the second he saw it.
Swing by tonight.
He knew it was from you, and he was equal parts pissed off and curious, because he still had no idea what your deal is, and he still had no idea if he wanted to kill you for fucking with him or fuck you for fucking with him.
So he did. He blew Stu off, and he climbed the usual tree by the usual window at the usual time. Instead of sitting on your bed or at your desk like usual, though, you were sitting on the window frame, one leg dangling along the side of the house as you leaned your head back and enjoyed the California night.
“You got my note,” you commented, cracking an eye open when you heard him.
“What the fuck is your deal?” He asked haughtily, climbing along the branch like a cautious animal.
“Are you mad at me, Billy?”
“Should I be?” He growled. “I’m not in the mood for any games. Tell me what your fucking problem is, or I’ll…I’ll…”
“You’ll what?” You raised an eyebrow. “Kill me?”
He stared at you in silence, almost shocked that you had said it so openly. “…yeah.”
“I doubt that, Billy Loomis.”
“Quit saying my name.”
“Because I don’t like it.” He lied.
You decided to change the subject.
“Have you actually killed anybody yet?” You asked, as casually as someone would ask about the weather.
Billy Loomis stared at you. “Excuse me?”
“You can tell me. I’m just curious.” You shrugged. “You seem like the type.”
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” He snapped, his hackles rising as he considered throttling you right then and there.
“Do you want to kill me right now?” Your voice was amused, and Billy didn’t know what to think of that. “You could try, if you want. We could see who wins.”
“…you’re insane.” He decided.
“Says the guy who’s been stalking me.”
“Why did you tell me to come over?” He growled. “Give me a real answer, or I’m fucking leaving.”
“Because I wanted to talk.” You hopped down from the window, landing barefoot on the plush carpet in your bedroom. “You can come in.”
He just stared.
“…or not. That’s fine too.” You rolled your eyes. “I just wanted to show you why you can trust me.”
Billy watched you. 
It was a trap. It had to be a trap. This was way too weird not to be. He didn’t know why someone would suspect him of anything, not when Cotton Weary was behind bars and nobody was the wiser about his and Stu’s little rendezvous with Sidney Prescott’s mother the year before, but this was way too suspicious.
“Come on,” you said, tossing your head. “It’s cool. I promise. You can stab me if it isn’t.”
“…you are the weirdest person I have ever fucking met.” He said, crawling along the branch until he could hop in through your window anyways. He had a knife in his pocket.
He figured he would be fine.
The smile you offered him was genuine. “Wow. I honestly thought it would be harder to get you in here.”
“Shut up and show me whatever the fuck you wanna show me,” he snapped.
“You’re cute when you’re mad,” you smiled as you turned towards your bedroom door. “You’ve never seen the rest of the house have you?”
“…only the parts I could see you from.” He admitted, following you hesitantly.
You snorted a laugh. “So you’ve only seen the parts of the house that we want you to see.”
You reached back for his hand and he allowed you to grab it, his fingers cautiously intertwining with yours. “Yeah. Me and my family.”
He immediately stiffened, trying to pull away, but you held onto him. 
“Don’t worry. They’re all out having fun.” you said bitterly. “We’re the only ones home right now.”
Billy still didn’t trust you, but he stayed silent. He knew he could take you if it came down to a struggle, and if you started it, he’d even have a real self-defense excuse. 
You led him down the stairs and turned towards what looked like a hall closet. “So...this is pretty special, alright? I’m really not supposed to be showing anybody this, but I trust you. So don’t go telling everybody in town, got it?”
He gave you a skeptical, almost uninterested look. “Whatever. You gonna show me whatever it is or not?”
“So impatient,” you clucked your tongue, letting go of his hand and reaching into your pocket. You pulled out a key, slipping it into the keyhole and opening the door before taking a step to the side so he could get a good look.
What you revealed actually took Billy’s breath away. 
He was staring at a small closet, the walls painted a deep red and covered in...things. Newspaper clippings, weapons, weird, grotesque masks...and an odd assortment of other items, things that looked totally unrelated, things like necklaces and wallets and--was that a fucking finger?
“Yeahhhhh, that’s one of my brother’s trophies,” you said, noticing Billy’s eyes lingering on it. “He’s kinda...gross.”
He stared for another moment before turning to look at you. “What the hell is all this?”
You shrugged. “Mementos. Trophies. They’re from all over. We move around a lot, y’know?”
His eyes were wide as he began putting two and two together. “There’s no fucking way.”
“What do you mean?” you asked innocently. 
“No fucking way this is real.”
“Don’t you watch scary movies?” you laughed. “I thought you were into this stuff. It’s kinda...the family business, I guess.”
Billy’s mouth twitched with the beginnings of a smile. 
He liked you, after all. 
“Can you, uh...” he cleared his throat, trying to keep his cool and not totally geek out. “Tell me about everything?”
You beamed at him. “I would love to, Billy Loomis.”
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justsparklingwords · 8 months ago
How do you think reader would react to her boyfriends Billy and Stu telling her they have to kill one of her friends?
This is how I would imagine it would go:
Billy’s holding you from behind while you hold onto his arms for support. What he just told you makes you want to faint.
“Kill Randy?” Repeating his words tasted like vile. “But...but Randy is my best friend! Does he have to die?”
“Shhh it’s okay, sweetheart, don’t cry,” Stu wipes the tears from your flushed cheeks.
“He has to die, he’s too smart and will figure us out. He’ll turn us in to the cops and we’ll be separated from each other. You don’t want that to happen, do you, baby? You don’t want to be away from us, right?”
You had a blank look on your face. Of course you didn’t want your boyfriends to get taken away from you, just the thought of it made you sick. But you also didn’t want Randy to die. You and him had been friends since elementary school and did everything together. Hell, he’s the one who introduced you to Billy and Stu.
Someone had to go, though. And it won’t be the loves of your life.
“No, no you’re right. He has to die.”
Stu and Billy give each other knowing, shit eating grins. “That’s our good girl.”
Sorry for killing your boyfriend @thirsting4slashers but it had to be done. It hurt me, too.
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junoxans · 2 months ago
is it alr to request tara carpenter x reader smut? i'm living off crumbs 😞
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Words: 900+
Warnings: (18+), strap (tara riding you cause why the hell not?), swearing, uhm i actually don't know what else to put, forgive me if i missed something it's too early
"I wanna try being on top this time."
When Tara muttered those words you almost couldn't believe it. It was a foreign request, something you'd dreamed of only once or twice before, but never did you think she'd actually bring it up before you could. She seemed sure of herself when she said it, her mind surely already made up. Her smirk taunting and cocky as usual.
It felt all so amusing now.
Her body was shaking as she was on the brink of an orgasm. Warm skin flush against your own, you watched almost in awe as she bounced on top of you, lip between her teeth as she stared down with lust darkened eyes. She looked gorgeous. 
Red handprints formed on her tan skin, the result of you getting a little too carried away earlier (she'd surely make a joke or two about it later).
"Fuck- I'm gonna- can I?"
You smiled at her broken speech, taking pride in the fact that her mind was far too gone to make a coherent sentence.
"Only good girls get to cum, baby." Her hips stutter as her face drops in disbelief. The act isn't fooling you though. And just as you thought, moments later she gushes around the base of your strap, her slick leaving a pretty trail down your skin. Fingers wrapping around her throat, you tilt your head. "Have you been a good girl for me?"
"Yes! Shit, please-" Her eyes roll to the back of her head as you bottom out inside of her once more, a heavy rock of your hips as you begin to thrust up into her yourself. This time she's angled so fucking perfectly, and you hit the spot that almost sends her over the edge. She's left helpless, desperate.
"One condition."
She pries open her pleading eyes, trying her hardest to stave off her inevitable orgasm as she meets your clouded gaze.
"You cum only when I get to one, got it?"
She nods deliriously, a whine of pure ecstasy escaping her throat with the promised relief just in her grasp.
You start pounding into her at a speed that she surely can't handle if she's supposed to wait another four seconds. Your heavy pants are hot against her skin, a fuel to her weak, clipped moans that fill the dim-lit room.
The coil in her stomach winds impossibly tight. Unbearable heat in her gut ready to explode so intensely that she can't even keep up anymore. She knows she shouldn't.. but..
She can't hold it. Her body tenses, her back forming a perfect arch as her trimmed nails dig into your skin for any sort of stability.
Her orgasm crashes into her. Her eyes squeeze shut as stars burst behind her lids, satisfied moans spilling from her mouth as she joltingly tries to match your rapid pace, milking the pleasure racking over her body as best she could. Her body is trembling, weak, and she can’t help but wonder what she did to get someone as perfect as you.
She's so lost in it all she doesn't even hear you whisper the last number, your voice teasing and amused as you know it's no use.
She lays limp against you as you both catch your breath. Arms lazily wrap around your midsection and you hum contentedly. Chest pressed to yours, her head weakly lays on your collarbones covered with love bites. A soft smile crosses her face when she feels you press a light kiss to the top of her head.
You chuckle lowly as you knew you should've expected her to ask. Tiredly stretching, you listen to the sound of your locked joints popping. Reaching over, you grab a water bottle from your bedside table and hand it to her.
"For the love of god, please save me some this time. " She doesn't seem to slow down, so you add, "You remember how many trips downstairs I had to make last time?"
She remembers complaining about it last time, the amount of times you left her waiting, saying you were staying downstairs longer than needed on purpose just to tease her. So she pulls back from the bottle with a grin, "And who's fault was that?"
"Yours! I barely got two sips the first time."
She hums at the memory and passes it to you. You take a few swigs. Tara takes the moment to watch you, how your throat bobs as you swallow, the trickle of water that goes down it, almost teasing, daring her to press her lips on your exposed skin.
You set the bottle back down. Turning toward her you offer a wolfish grin, your somewhat predatory eyes letting her know she’s in trouble.
She shifts nervously, biting her bottom lip at the filling sensation of your girthy toy. Her arousal coming back like it never left.
"My stupid girl.. couldn't even follow directions. All you had to do was wait one more second," you murmur condescendingly, thumbs rubbing circles on her hips. Her face flushes in defeat. "I should've known better than to trust you."
She attempts to hide her face in your neck, murmuring a soft, "Sorry?"
It's very unapologetic on purpose.
There's a sharp pain as you yank her back by her hair. She figures she just made a big mistake. Your eyes are dark and your grin is threatening as you eye her squirming beneath you. "Oh, you will be."
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baby-ditzzy · 29 days ago
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at first i was like mmmm ghostface! mike wheeler as a joke but…i don’t think it’s a joke anymore….
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chezzywezzy · a month ago
Yandere Scream Drabble 2 pt. 2
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Word count ; 4.2k
Y/n accepted. Of course she did. She suspected absolutely nothing. Billy placed his hand on the small of her back, and the glass of water was completely abandoned on the kitchen counter. Billy led her down a small hallway that led to a guest bedroom and the bathroom connected to it. Billy ushered her inside, shutting it tightly behind him.
Y/n tilted her head innocently. She plopped onto the bed, kicking her legs care freely. Billy, silent as he collected his thoughts, sat next to her. He sat forward, hands clasped together as his elbows leaned against his knees. His hair fell in front of his face.
The atmosphere shifted into something more serious and Y/n sat forward, placing a hand to rub Billy’s back gently. “What’s going on?”
“I think… I’ve had it,” he spoke carefully. “I’m gonna break up with Sid tonight.”
Y/n gasped, her movements freezing. Billy’s head tilted in her direction, and his brows were furrowed tensely. All Y/n could muster was,” Why?”
Billy shook his head and scoffed. “Why not? She treats me like shit. She actually thinks I’m a serial killer, y’know? Besides, she just ain’t interested in me anymore and it’s fine, ‘cause to be honest, I ain’t interested in her anymore. I don’t really think I ever was.”
“But, Billy, that could be a spur-of-the-moment kinda thing,” Y/n gulped. “Sid feels real bad about it. She likes you. And you two are a total power couple. Before all these murders started happening —“
“I still didn’t fuckin’ like her like I was supposed to. There’s someone else. Always has been.”
Billy sat up abruptly, shifting his body to face Y/n. She seized up, almost sensing what he was implying. She moved to scoot away, but his hand shot out, wrapping around her waist tightly. Y/n glanced at it, a frown tugging at her lips. Billy looked almost offended with how she reacted. However, his eyes narrowed. Seductively so.
“Don’t ya get it, doll? I’m in love with you. I’ve been in love with you since forever. Don’t you feel the same way?”
Y/n was shellshocked from the revelation. Tears threatened to fall because she felt bad for being a catalyst and home wrecker. However, she was so very anxious that she scooted away completely, leaving Billy’s hands cold and longing for her touch. She shook her head, biting her lip.
“I - I’m sorry, Billy. I don’t know where all this is coming from. We’ve always been friends!”
Billy scoffed. He was trying his darnedest not to lose his temper then and there since he knew it all required patience. Once his and Stu’s plan succeeded, she’d have no choice but to accept his feelings. She wouldn’t have anyone else left to cling to except them. Stu told him that Y/n would turn him down, no matter what, but Billy knew that if he didn’t do this, Y/n would feel like she was someone to help him move on from his soon-to-be ex-girlfriend. Even if that wasn’t the case.
It’s always been Y/n in his eyes.
“I swear, doll, I came here just to break things off with her. Can’t you just consider it? I mean, we’ve been into you for years. There’s no way you’re that oblivious, right —?”
Y/n stood abruptly. Billy followed suit, reaching to grab her. However, Y/n shook her head. Hair fell in front of her eyes. She grit her teeth, and Billy’s arm fell. A part of his heart ached from the sight. But he expected her to turn him down for the time being. Regardless, though, the hurt in his eyes was true. It stung for her to react so poorly to his confession.
“‘W - we’?”
“What d’ya mean?”
“You said ‘we.’ I - is there something else I’ve been oblivious to —?”
“It was a slip of the tongue —“
“Man, fuck this,” Y/n muttered in irritation. “You could’ve at least done the honorable thing and broken the fuck up with her first, Billy. Now, I just feel like some nasty side chick. Leave me alone.”
“Wait, Y/n —“
She dashed out and slammed the bedroom door behind her, leaving Billy in shock. He didn’t think things would go that poorly. But Y/n wiped away her tears and recomposed herself, dashing down the hall. She was conflicted as to  wether she should join the gang because if she didn’t, she’d burst into tears in private, or if she should go elsewhere to burst into tears in private.
She decided on the former. She remembered the whole ‘strength in numbers’ notion, and even if her main concern was petty relationship drama, the Ghostface serial killer was still on the back burner of her mind. She went to the living room, but just as she swerved, she bumped right into someone.
“Woah, woah, woah! Hey there, Y/n. I was startin’ to wonder where you two ran off to.”
It was just Stu. He held up his hands defensively. Y/n exhaled sharply. “…Oh. Hi, Stu.”
“Aw, what's with the sad look?” Stu pouted care-freely. “Come on. Join us on the couch. You won’t wanna miss this. Jamie Lee Curtis’ breasts’ll be on screen soon according to Randy.”
Y/n shook her head and swatted at his chest playfully. Stu wrapped his arm around her waist, tugging her into the room anyways. It was crowded, but there was a very firm emptiness to part of the couch. Tatum was there, arms crossed in vague irritation from how all the guys were going berserk. However as she looked up, joy spread over her features.
“Oh my god! Y/n! Sit next to me!” She made grabby hands and the woman was more than willing to oblige, returning the notion. 
She shoved Stu off her, much to his hidden chagrin, and plopped next to her. Y/n immediately squeezed Tatum close affectionately. Nobody else was aware of how deeply Stu burned of jealousy as he squeezed next to Y/n. He was so very tempted to steal her from the hug and brush it off as a joke, but he didn’t.
Instead, he watched in secret fury. He crossed his legs and sat back, eyeing the women. Even when they were done hugging, Tatum still had her arms hooked around Y/n’s neck. Their attention was drawn back to the movie as a scream echoed through the room from one of the ‘resident sluts’ of the film was finished off. The guys oohed and ached in unison, and Stu was so captivated by his jealousy that he wasn’t even paying any mind to it.
And then, he overheard the in. A boy in the back complained,” Aw man, there wasn’t any beer left in the kitchen.”
Stu steeled himself and downed the rest of his beer. His ears peaked when he heard a very pointed,” Hey, can we talk about something in a bit? Something’s going on with Billy.”
“Yeah, of course. What, don’t tell me he’s here —“
“Hey, babe, mind grabbing the guys some more beers from the garage?” Stu boomed, trying to feign as much innocence as possible.
Tatum scoffed and furrowed her brows. “What am I, the beer wench? Go get it yourself, you lazy ass.”
Stu bellowed in laughter, holding his stomach. Y/n smiled politely, and although Tatum was only slightly irritated from being interrupted, she decided to offer herself up to the task. It was fairly suffocating being stuck in the same room with many strange teenage boys.
“Where are they? I can go get them —“
“No, no, no!” Stu instead in mock horror, but only Stu knew that it was genuine. “Tate’s just gonna get some for herself, eh? Pretty please, babe? I’ll make it up to ya later.” He sent a cheeky wink.
Tatum’s eyes softened she shook her head in dismay. “I swear,” she grumbled playfully,” you men can’t do anything for yourselves, can ya?”
“Nope!” Stu gripped at his heart dramatically and fell back on the soft cushions. “Us men can’t do shit, ain’t that right, boys?”
Some of his friends cackled, although their attention was still glued to the various murders appearing on the screen. Tatum rose to her feet, patting Y/n’s head affectionately. She headed into the kitchen, leaving Y/n to the wolves. She wasn’t sure where Sidney was, since the girl had disappeared a while ago. She assumed Billy had swept her away to somewhere more private to go through with the break-up.
It made Y/n’s heart ache at the thought of being a home wrecker. Even if she was no fool and knew how attractive Billy was, out of pure loyalty, she’d never dream of getting with her friend’s ex. If the same thing happened with Tatum and Stu, it would be no different. As much as she cared for both boys and they were very near and dear to her heart, Tate and Sid would always be the priority.
She was shaken out of her thoughts when Stu’s hand clamped around her shoulder and tugged her close. He had a friendly grin. She was used to his overt physical affection and leaned against his chest. Her eyes drifted back to the movie on the screen.
It was odd how easy it was to fall asleep to a slasher film. Her eyelids were almost shut, lulled to sleep by the terror-filled screams of the murderer’s enemies. Stu was a comfy pillow, too. She wasn’t sure how much time passed, but Tatum still hadn’t come back. 
Br-br-bring, br-br-bring!
Y/n gasped, shooting up from her position. Stu squeezed her shoulder, not going for the phone at all. Randy, who sat in front of the television on the floor, paused the movie. Everyone groaned, but Y/n was still so foggy-brained to really care either way. She sent her adorable, weary doe eyes toward Stu, and he couldn’t help but grin and blush, much to her unawareness.
Randy picked up the phone. “Quiet!” he ordered. He listened steadily to the call, and everyone was hushed in anticipation. Their minds were racing with theories. Perhaps Stu’s parents were coming home early. Or maybe the very distant neighbors, at eat half a mile away filed a complaint. However, Randy’s eyes widened in shock and horror.
“What is it, Randy-boy?” Stu asked carefully with a quirked brow. “Ya look like someone just died.”
“They found Principal Himbry’s body hanging from the football field!” Randy exclaimed. “He was gutted, skinned, everything!”
“Well, what are we all waiting for? Let’s go see before they pull him down!” one boy shouted eagerly.
Everyone seemed to rally around the idea. Hollers and hoots echoed in the room and people crowded at the front door. Randy was left in awe, reaching out toward them in dismay. He wanted for them to stop and continue watching the movie, and Y/n was just as horrified at how corrupt the student moral was. Stu didn’t seem to care, though, that his entire party was abandoning him. 
The door slammed open and cars honked from outside. People were in a rush, driving away recklessly, which left just the three of them in the room. Randy, completely peeved, shrugged.
“Their loss.”
He plopped on the couch again and unpaused the movie. Y/n, on the other hand, was on edge. She nudged herself free of Stu’s affection and sat up straight. Stu also sat up in surprise, but she sent him a strained smile.
“I’m gonna go look for Tate.”
Stu’s mouth twitch and he deadpanned,” She probably got pissed at me and left the party early. You know how she is.”
Y/n shook her head. “No, I don’t think she’d do that. She would’ve at least come back with the beers.”
“Ya sure you don’t wanna take a nap upstairs? You were about to pass out there for a sec, babe.”
“At least wait til the movie’s finished,” Randy piped in in annoyance. “I don’t wanna be left watching it all on my own.”
“It’ll be fine. I’ll be right back once I find Tate.”
Randy clapped his hands together. She jumped in confusion, and the pair watched as Randy paused the movie once again. He jumped in front of the telly, demanding all eyes on him. “You were doing so well, Yn, god dammit! Don’t you know the rules?”
“The rules?” Stu parroted in confusion, furrowing his brows.
“Yes, the rules, dumbass!” Randy motioned erratically as he began explaining,” There are three very important rules in horror movies. The rest of us are completely fucked. But you and Sid? You two are the final girls. At least, you were until you said that.”
“Wh - what are you going off about this time, Randy?” Y/n chirped in confusion, not rising from her seat quite yet.
“Rule number one: no sex allowed.”
“Boo!” Stu chanted lowly, giving the man a thumbs up.
“Yeah, yeah, can it worms for brain. Rule number two: No drinking, doing drugs, or anything bad like that. Again, Y/n you were going to be that virtuous angel who survived ’til the end. And… rule number —“ he held up his fingers. “— three: don't you ever, ever say that you’ll be right back. Because you won’t.”
Y/n gulped, but Stu was giggling like a schoolgirl. She stood abruptly, and deciding to curb her anxiety, she grinned. “Well, I guess I’ll be right back then, huh?”
Randy facepalmed and shook his head. Stu hopped to his feet, aiming to follow. But Y/n shewed him off. She marched through the kitchen. Other than the distant horror movie playing, the house was silent. Too silent for her liking. It was grim. The thought that a murderer could be lurking about was worrisome. But the murderer couldn’t be at two places at once, unless if they showed up to the party late.
She felt cruel when her mind thought back to Billy. But he wasn’t a murderer. An asshole, maybe, but a killer, impossible. Y/n blinked away her thoughts. She went over to the garage door. She opened it up, not paying Stu any mind as he made his way into one of the rooms nearby. 
She opened the door. It was pitch black and hardly any of the light bled in. She squinted and felt around for a light switch. She shut the door behind her and felt around the wall further. Some of the moonlight bled into the garage due to the open door. Something was hanging from it, but the shape was too blurry to be certain.
She finally found something. She flicked at it.
A scream tore at her throat and she collapsed to her knees. She clawed at the stone floor as she bore witness to Tatum, body cut in half. Ghostface was here, and they had killed her best friend. The circumstances was obvious. She attempted to climb free from the garage, fighting for her life, and had gotten trapped in the pet door.
Her body was only half-intact. She didn’t understand how the partygoers had fallen blind to the crime scene, blood still dripping from the stomach. Her vision went blurry and her head throbbed. She was so in shock as crawled forward ever so slightly.
Surely, Stu or Randy had heard her. Surely, they had called the police.
Suddenly, the garage door swung open. She gasped in relief, turning away just in time to miss watching Tatum’s body officially fall into two halves and collapse from the pet door. A wet plop echoed in the garage, and it burned into Y/n’s mind. 
She was only terrified further when, blocking the pathway to inside the house, was Ghostface himself. His knife glinted in the moonlight and he tilted his head tauntingly. Y/n turned and began crawling away on her behind. But the Ghostface took slow, mocking footsteps, descending the steps and approaching so very slowly.
“Stu! Randy!” She shrieked at the top of her lungs. “Help!”
She hoped that they heard her. She prayed to a god that may or may not have existed. All Y/n knew was that she needed to run, and she needed to run now. 
She flopped onto her stomach and attempted to stumble to her feet. However, the moment she was about to rise, the Ghostface suddenly pounced. Another scream escaped her lips as she was tackled to the ground. One arm circled around her neck, breaking the fall for her head, even if her breath was constricted. The body weighed a lot, and Y/n was left breathless and exhausted, barely able to move underneath him.
“Pl - ease!” She squawked, flailing her arms desperately. “Don’t —“
And then, the handle of the knife descended upon the side of her head but one time, knocking her out cold. Ghostface paused for a moment, waiting to feel any movements. And slowly, her breath evened out from her previous panicked pants. Silence fell over the garage.
The killer finally dared to move, sitting up. He straddled the tinier woman and released her neck entirely. Her head thudded gently against the stone and some blood stained her h/c hair from the blows. He removed his weight just enough, dropping his knife to the side. 
He flipped her over on her back. He didn’t plan on moving her anytime soon, but at the very least, she’d have an easier time breathing. Or, well, maybe that was just a thing for sleeping babies and drunks. Ghostface didn’t know but wasn’t willing to take any chances.
He tilted his head and raised a leather-gloved hand to her cheek. Almost amused, he tilts her head every which way. He enjoyed the feeling of her skin sinking it at his touch, even if it was blocked by his gloves. Her chubby cheeks were so adorable. Everything about her was. And it truly was a shame that things had to go this way. The man hadn’t expected her to dash off to search for Tatum, let alone find her.
He should’ve cut the power.
A shaky sigh escaped as the murderer removed himself from the girl. It was time for everything to set into motion. He equipped himself with the knife once more, leaving the woman to lay on the cold, hard ground so very near the corpse of her best friend.
And Y/n remained there. And yet, perhaps it was the adrenaline, but her consciousness was quick to return. Perhaps she was lucky that he only hit her once. Y/n was still baffled as to why she was even alive. As her eyes opened, she saw stars. The garage was once again encapsulated by darkness, but as her head tilted, it was a very rude awakening to find Tatum’s dead, halved body not too far away from her.
A scream bubbled in her throat, but she fell silent. Instead, she shakily pushed herself up on her elbows. The murderer was odd. That much was plain. For some reason, he had singled out her. And perhaps, in their murder-freaked mind, it was because she was deemed the final girl. Not Tatum, not Sydney, but her. 
The resident school nobody that only existed because of who she was friends with.
She coughed. Her head ached like the dickens. Ghostface hadn’t held back. But he also didn’t try hard enough, because here so was, alive and well. At least, about as well someone who just found her best friend’s body could be. She coughed again, pulling herself to her knees. She crawled toward the garage door, pulling herself up the steps.
Only then did she use the door as a balance to help her to her feet. Her vision had cleared enough, but it was still blurry. When she turned too fast, she couldn’t see a damn thing. She gulped, pulling the garage door open with a squeak.
The rest of the house was deadly silent. She snuck through, tears pricking at her eyes. She looked around the kitchen desperately for a phone, a knife, anything. She pulled open drawer after drawer, but they had seemingly been disappeared. So, she took what she could and snatched up a spatula from the sink.
She gulped. She navigated the hallway slowly. She remembered there being a phone in the living room. Obviously. The movie was still running, but it was quiet. Too quiet. She rounded the corner, expecting to find a body. Anything.
But Randy was nowhere to be seen.
For the first time, she couldn’t help but wonder if the killer had been under her nose the whole time.
She entered the living room quietly. As she went around the couch, she suddenly heard the front door squeak open. She gasped and immediately plopped onto the couch. She worried that it was the killer and that she plopped far too loudly.
And then, she heard the creak of the stairs. She gripped into the cushions, peaking her head over just enough. Her heart stopped when the cloaked killer whipped up the stairs, silent but deadly. The knife glinted in the lamp, and he hadn’t noticed. Y/n let out a sigh of relief.
She wondered what could possibly be upstairs. She let her body fall back down and she tilted her head. She noticed, out of the corner of her eye, the phone. But, what crushed her chances, was that the black cord was cut and it was sitting in the middle of the carpet, completely useless.
Y/n gulped. She had to find Stu. At the bare minimum, his hands were blood-free. She didn’t know who else was around, but she could only hope Stu was alive. She pushed herself off the couch.
Or maybe she could just run.
That seemed a lot safer. Y/n loved her friends, but she wasn’t stupid. She entered into the main hallway. She was about to pull on her shoes, but then she made the mistake of looking upstairs.
A scream escaped as the blade dug into a person. Sydney’s scream broke through, too, and only when the body was flung to the side did Y/n realize. Billy had been stabbed to death, body tossed to the wind without caution. The bedroom door was suddenly slammed shut, and although Ghostface banged on it a few times, he turned.
And noticed Y/n.
She screamed again. She wielded but a plastic spatula, while the killer’s knife was bathing in the blood of her friends. Some of the blood had splattered onto the ghoulish white mask, and it was hard to know what they were thinking. 
Y/n threw open the front front door. Ghostface was racing down the steps accidentally slipping halfway. He recovered with ease, though, and the moment the door swung shut, it opened up all the same. Y/n raced down the steps, adorning nothing but her socks. The killer was hot on her tail.
Another shriek for help escaped her. A news van was right there, blood dripping from the door. She made it past the fence, hearing the knife slash angrily at the air. The killer almost seemed out of breath, but Y/n was living off of pure adrenaline. 
She went around the van. Just as she slammed open the door, the killer collided with it. Y/n gasped and slammed it shut. The window was down and the killer reached in, grasping the girl by the neck. The knife had seemingly been dropped, and both hands clasped around her neck.
Y/n was left breathless. She reached for the ignition desperately, other hand clawing at the murderer’s neck. Her foot was pushing with whatever strength remained into the pedal. She felt at the key with shaky hands. The Ghostface continued to strangle the dear delights out of her, almost unwillingly so. Her head was completely hanging out of the open window.
She was beginning to lose consciousness. 
And then, as her fingers wrapped around the key, she twisted it.
She gasped for breath and screamed at the same time. The murderer’s hold was relinquished in exchange for her head hitting the car door. But, as her body fell into the driver’s seat accelerating far too fast, she realized it was too late. She gripped the steering wheel, trying with all her might to swerve.
She broke through the white picket-fence and headed straight into the wilderness. She was howling at the top of her lungs. She was sure this was her end. 
She crashed into a tree and everything went black.
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dratbatlaundrymat · 5 months ago
Stu Macher with an s/o who shuts down during fights.
{Gender Neutral} {Curse warning} {Mentioned fight} {Not beta read}
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Whatever had sparked the fight became irrelevant to Stu when he noticed your lack of response.
You just sat there
You where devoid of words and movement.
It irked Stu
"Come on bebe, please don't ignore me. You know I hate the silence treatment."
When you don't respond he is both conserned and a bit pissed.
Stu started frantically apologizing.
After 10 minutes of you not responding or moving he figured it was something else entirely.
Did he brake you?
At this point he is trying anything to coax you out of, whatever this was.
He's physically shaking when even the mention of your favorite food or childhood toy is not working.
He cracks jokes.
To hide just how scared he is.
When he cant hold it in, he starts crying.
He brings you close.
He's so scared he's lost you.
When you come to, he has fallen asleep on your shoulder, arms wrapped around your waist.
The first thing you notice are dryed tears on his face.
You wake him up with soft kisses oh his cheeks.
He is so relieved you're back.
"Don't you ever do that to me again. Never fucking again."
He understands that there's a reason you react like this.
Stu is prepared to pay for therapy, if you need it.
He promises himself right then and there that he would not allow it to get that bad again.
He won't let you go for a couple of days.
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