Billy Loomis X Reader - Blog Posts

Heyyy! I saw your ask box was open and was wondering if you would be okay with writing Ghistface (Billy or Stu /or both\) x plus size fem reader? Just a bit off fluff and some love shared. Maybe featuring a movie date??

yes i can! im writing this on mobile so sorry if the format is wonky ^3^

Billy loomis and Stu Macher x plus size fem! reader fluff

'Movie Night'

The three of you would decide hang out one day in the summer and decide to have a movie night!

Billy and You would try to pick a scary movie for you three to watch together while Stu made popcorn and fetched some drinks

After you pick the movie you three would be in a cuddle puddle on the couch talking about the movie together

if you got scared and jumped they would both laugh a little and cover your face in kisses and hold your hands

one thing they both absolutely love about you is that youre warm and soft and very fun to cuddle, especially when watching their favorite shared genre

after multiple movies it gets late and the three of you all fall asleep together on the couch, still cuddling and loving every second of it, even when youre catching some good rest

sorry if this was short, i just started writing afew days ago, i hope you like it!

HAPPY HALLOWEEENNN!!!!!! To celebrate, i’ll be taking requests for Tate Langdon, Billy Loomis, Stu Matcher, and other spookies this week!

Sends requests <3 🎃 👻

𖤓 - completed series

ʚɞ - smut

જ⁀➴ - personal favorite

✬ - series

𝕯 - dark

ׂ╰┈➤ HOUSE OF WAX

ೃ⁀➷ Bo Sinclair

bad day - part two 𝕯

one more spring 𝕯

ೃ⁀➷ Vincent Sinclair

bad day - part two 𝕯

ׂ╰┈➤ SCREAM

ೃ⁀➷ Billy Loomis

wicked influence 𝕯

ೃ⁀➷ Stu Macher

wicked influence 𝕯

the boy next door જ⁀➴

wicked influence

Poly!Ghostface x fem!reader

a/n: I’ve wanted to write for Scream for forever and have never gotten around to it. Well, it’s slasher season baby! I finally have my reason. (When I tell you that this movie was my sexual awakening as a child, I mean it. That’s not necessarily good, but it’s true. )

Summary: Visiting a Halloween carnival with your two best friends doesn’t seem that bad until you reach the haunted house. You’ve never been able to explain your fear of demons to anyone before, you have no idea where it comes from. But you do know, going into a hell themed house with teenagers screaming shitty Latin at you is one of your worst nightmares. You think everything’s okay until, suddenly, your nights are filled with visits from a strange shadowy entity and you don’t recognize the look in Stu’s eyes anymore. (Part of my Halloween Palooza)

“Hey! Demons are a perfectly rational thing to be afraid of.”

Billy scoffs and rolls his eyes, nudging you further toward the haunted house. “Alright, alright, would you calm down and just move it.” You stare into the gaping jaw of the devil that serves as the entrance to the house. You know this is all just a way for people to make a quick buck. 

There’s not going to be anything in there except teenage actors and shitty SFX makeup. But that doesn’t make the looming doorway any less menacing. It doesn’t make your heart stop racing or your breathing any easier. 

Billy frowns as some people shove past you all, tired of waiting for you to move inside. They cut the line and you can’t help but be grateful. Your nails dig into your palms until you feel the warmth of blood and have to swallow down bile. 

Stu and Billy both lean towards you, varying looks of confusion on their faces. “Holy shit,” a grin breaks out on Stu’s face and he smiles widely at you. “You’re terrified, aren’t you?” He pokes you like you might be a statue, unmoving and solemn. 

You stumble back and are effectively broken out of your terrified stupor. You swat at Stu’s wandering hands and glare at him. “Shut the fuck up,” you snap. But in your anxious state, it all comes out as one jumbled mess. 

Billy lets out a disappointed sigh and gives you a funny look. “Alright, let’s just go. You’re not going in and it’s stupid to just stand out here all night.” Stu opens his mouth to argue but Billy shoots him a sharp look. You hate how sensitive they think you are. You can handle one stupid fucking haunted house. You’re not completely useless. 

Still, you practically gulp as the Devil’s eyes bore into yours. You feel like your soul is being sucked out through your feet, leaving you startlingly cold. “I,” you clear your throat, waiting until it feels strong enough to speak. “I can do this,” you grit out, sounding like you’re trying to convince yourself more than them. 

Stuf lets out a brief chuckle and Billy throws his elbow into his gut. Stu doubles over dramatically and you can’t help but laugh a little. Billy gives you a raised brow and you nod your head. “I just need a little nudge,” you mutter, glancing back at the house. 

Stu grins and creeps behind you. “I got you babes,” he tells you in a ridiculous voice. You barely have a second to process what’s happening before he’s lifting you up and practically tossing you inside. Immediately, there’s a fake chainsaw in your face and a screaming Bubba Sawyer. You stumble back with a gasp, falling into Stu’s open arms. 

“How’s that for a nudge?” Billy mutters as he brushes past you. You grab onto the back of his shirt and follow behind him. He glances over his shoulder at you with a knowing smirk and continues forward. None of the scares get him, but they get you. 

The actors catch onto that. They also catch onto how fake and dramatic Stu is. Half of them target you for a good scream and the other half avoid you because of how obnoxious he’s being. You can already tell how bored BIlly is. There’s not enough gore in here for him. 

He needs more blood splatter and fresh corpses, while you’re pleasantly surprised by the contents of the house. You’d really been dreading the demonic themes, but it seems like that’s not a huge factor. So far it’s just a few overzealous teens and some spiders on a string. 

Sure, it’s still scaring the bejeezus out of you. But there’s a difference between a quick scream and a deeply rooted phobia. 

You don’t know when this supernatural fear of yours began. Maybe your parents let you traumatize yourself with the crucifix scene in The Exorcist too young. But you know it’s been with you nearly your entire life. 

You think you’re safe, that you can just relax and let yourself have fun, then you reach the final door. The lights are flickering so hard you think you might have a seizure, but you can see enough to know what’s before you. A red, rotted door, with three upside-down nines barely hanging onto it. 

“Oh god,” you whisper and you think the boys can’t hear you. But then you feel Stu’s hands suddenly clamping around your neck and you leap into Billy with a shrill scream. Billy flinches away from the noise, turning to glare at you. 

Stu doubles over, laughing his ass off at your expense and grinning wildly at you. “Jesus, we’re not even in there yet. What is wrong with you?” He says it like a joke but you can hear the truth of it lingering. It stings, the slight cruelty in his tone. 

There’s nothing wrong with being afraid of something. Fear is healthy. The absence of fear is idiocy. You shove past Billy and turn to Stu with a mean glare. “I’m going to go in here and when I get out, I’m fucking leaving you.”

You shove the door open and take a step inside. You put on a brave face for about five seconds before you turn to see if they’ll follow you. You see just a glimpse of them before the door creaks closed. Billy is leaning against the wall, watching you with a half-amused expression. But Stu looks odd. 

That doesn’t even seem like the right word. His face is completely devoid of any emotion. He looks expressionless and you’ve never seen Stu like that before. Whether it’s for good reason or not, he’s always making a face. Right now, you don’t even recognize him. Were it not for the outfit he was wearing you would think someone else had snuck up behind Billy. 

The door is closed before you can call out to him and you find yourself plunged in complete darkness. There’s no noise for a long few moments. You can’t tell which way is the door and which is the exit. 

At first, you worry you went in the wrong direction and entered an empty part of the house. A sudden cackle breaks through the air, and you leap forward, stumbling into the wall. You can already feel your heart beginning to race. Even though you can hear the static of a speaker and you know, deep down, that it's fake, you’re frozen in fear. 

There’s a brief flash of light, just enough for you to see torn wallpaper and upside-down crosses. And something standing in the corner. “All alone?” A voice rasps and you whimper, pressing yourself up against the wall. You can’t tell if your eyes are open or closed, it’s too dark to know. You hope they’re closed. Whatever’s about to happen is going to traumatize you, you just know it. 

A door creaks behind you just as the lights begin flickering on and off. Through brief flashes of illumination, you see something running towards you. They’re screaming Latin at you, water hits your face and you begin screaming uncontrollably. Footsteps pound towards you, egging on the racing beat of your heart. 

A jarring grip lands on your shoulder and you swing out wildly. Your fist connects with something hard and you hiss in pain. There’s a brief pause where the only thing you can hear is your panting. 

“Ow!” Someone snaps, an irritated raspy voice. The lights flick on and you squint against the sudden glare, blinking rapidly to try and lessen the burn on your eyes. 

Billy and Stu stand on either side of you, astonished looks on both of their faces. A teenage boy in a shitty priest costume and red face paint stands before you. He’s rubbing his eye and cussing at you. “You fucking punched me!”

“You ran at me!” You yell back immediately, glaring at the little asshole. “I don’t think you’re supposed to touch me.”

He glares at you through one eye and points to Stu and Billy. “I didn’t!” He shouts and you flinch back, grimacing. “Your fucking friend did.” You clench your eyes shut, taking in a deep breath. Both you and Billy turn slowly towards Stu. His face is as red as the kid’s as he struggles to contain his laughter. 

“Unbelievable!” You snap at him, slapping his shoulder roughly. He jolts, narrowing his eyes down at you. 

“Hey!” He protests, “I was joking around. You’re the one that punched him.” He points the blame to you and you can’t argue. You did, technically, punch him. But it’s Stu’s fault. If he hadn’t snuck up on you, you would have just kept on screaming. You never would have touched the kid. 

In awkward silence, you walk the boy out of the haunted house and buy him a cold drink to press against his steadily swelling eye. You can see purple shining through the fading paint and grimace. He throws himself down on a wooden picnic table and sighs forlornly. 

“Thanks a lot, lady,” he mutters bitterly. Stu’s lips twitch as he watches the kid tug at his costume. You glare up at him and shove him away. He stumbles behind the table shooting you a sharp glare. You’re taken aback by the look. 

It’s not like you’ve never gotten a little pushy with him before. His love language was manhandling. But the look on his face is unrecognizable. You’d thought you’d imagined it earlier, how off he had seemed. But it’s not fake now. You’re looking it clearly in the eye and you can’t deny the truth of it. 

“I’m gonna sue,” the kid grumbles and you’re snapped out of your stare-off. You try and shake off the chilling feeling of unfamiliarity but it’s nearly impossible. You’re still wound up from the haunted house, you’re sure you’re just imagining things.

Billy shoves his shoulder and the kid falls back onto the table. “You’re not suing.”

He puffs his chest up and glares at Billy, “I could.”

Billy places his hand on the table, leaning in on the kid’s space until he’s flinching back. You avert your eyes, uncomfortable with the sudden display of dominance. Yet, you don’t stop him from bullying the kid out of a lawsuit. “You won’t,” Billy tells him, a clear threat. 

The kid gives a shaky nod of his head, but Billy still doesn’t let up. There’s a slight curl of malice to his lips, you glance over to Stu for support. His attention is rapt upon Billy, something like hunger in his eyes. You feel like you’re watching two lions corner a gazelle, you can practically see the boy’s hands trembling from fear.  

“Alright,” you clear your throat and tug Billy back by the shirt. He resists you at first and you know he only backs off because he wants to. It’s not for you. You look at the boy and give him a weak smile, “I really am sorry,” you can hear Stu laughing behind him and roll your eyes. The kid takes the drink off his eye and glares at you. 

“Yeah, whatever lady. Why don’t you take a valium or something and chill the hell out?” He gets off the bench and brushes past you, shaking his head. You glance down at your fist and hiss at the pain shooting along your fingers. The skin of your knuckles is split and aching from hitting him. 

Billy huffs out a laugh and takes your hand in his. “Really got him, didn’t you?”

“I didn’t mean to,” you argue petulantly. 

Stu finally collects himself and rejoins you both, throwing his gangly body on the wooden picnic table. “Why don’t you tell his face that?” He practically snorts, looking down at your hand and then laughing all over again. It’s really not that funny. Even Billy looks confused by his boisterous nature. 

He’s a dick, but this is a lot. You and Billy exchange a confused glance before looking back at Stu. But he’s silent now, already staring back at you both. Again, chills go up and down your arms at the empty look in his eyes. His lips are smiling, but his eyes are devoid of anything. 

“Maybe we should just go home.” You suggest, trying to keep the suspicion out of your tone. “Carnival’s a bust,” Billy exchanges one last look with you before nodding. 

“We still doing movies at Stu’s?” You desperately want to say no. Right now, all you want is to get as far away from him as possible. Earlier, with them and the kid, that’s normal. They’ve always had a bit of a mean streak when it comes to people weaker than them. 

The way his eyes are boring into you right now is anything but normal. You’ve never felt quite so uncomfortable near him, but you can’t ignore the feeling. Every primal instinct of survival is screaming at you to run, but you can’t. You can’t say no. All you do is nod, tongue glued to the roof of your mouth. Stu’s eyes brighten slightly at your words, but it’s still nothing compared to how it should be. 

You get ahead of Billy, not wanting to walk next to Stu. All you need is a good night’s sleep and you’ll be over this whole thing. Still, you can’t shake the feeling of too many eyes lingering on you as you make the trek to the car. The wet straw beneath your feet swallows the sounds of your steps and you try not to be discomforted by the quiet. It’s a carnival, where did all the people go?

The black-and-white static of the TV is the only thing to illuminate the room. It shines upon your face, makes it so you can only see in that square of light. You assume Billy is on the ground, passed out. And Stu is probably curled up in the overstuffed armchair. 

Yet, you can’t look. As much as you try to crane your neck, try and find some comfort in their presence, you can’t move. Your body is pinned down by a weight you can’t see, only feel. This isn’t sleep paralysis. It’s like being held down by someone stronger and bigger than you. 

You have no control over your body. You have no control over anything. Your breathing kicks up, coming in short panicked bursts. Your eyes roll around wildly, trying to find something, anything, to focus on. 

You find yourself depressingly devoid of any distractions. Until a shadow creeps along the ceiling. At first, you think it’s just your eyes playing tricks on you. Like when you stare at one spot in the dark for too long and start to see impossible shapes. 

But this is different. No matter how many times you blink or look away, it keeps moving. You whimper as it crawls over you. It dangles from the ceiling. You see nothing, only feel its eyes on you. There is no clear shape lurking within it, just malevolent malice. 

It drops down behind the arm of the couch and you open your mouth to scream, hoping to wake one of the boys. Nothing comes out but a strangled gasp of air. You struggle for noise but the more you try, the harder you find it to bring air in. 

Your eyes swim as you go lightheaded. You almost miss the tendrils creeping over the fabric of the couch. You almost don’t see it covering your feet. You wish you had missed it. You wish you just closed your eyes and never opened them again. But it’s like something is keeping those pried open too. 

You can’t feel your legs. That’s the weight. It’s not someone holding you down. Your body is completely limp. It’s as though your bones were replaced with metal, you’re sinking so far into the cushions they’re rising around you. Even your fingers are too heavy to twitch. 

You begin to feel it in your head, a sudden sinking feeling as it tips further and further back. Soon, you can only watch the shadow through your peripheral. Cold terror washes over you and fills your veins with something ill. 

It covers your legs like a veil, slithering on them. Your thighs shoot apart and the blanket goes flying across the room. You can only let out a choked whimper as it dives between your parted limbs. 

You shoot up with a gasp, sunlight peers through Stu’s living room windows, filling the room with much-needed warmth. You glance down, fisting the blanket and tugging it up to your chest in relief. Your heart is still racing and there’s sweat caked along your neck. But you can move your body freely again. It must have just been an awful nightmare. 

You glance to the side and nearly scream. Stu lounges in the armchair, Billy’s still asleep on the ground. Stu stares right at you, empty eyes, wide smile. “Good dream?” he inquires, but the tone of his voice tells you he already knows the answer. 

You swallow, fighting the sandpaper feeling of your throat and shaking your head. “No,” you croak, afraid to speak much louder than a whisper. 

His smile widens and you feel your head feeling heavy again. “I love a good nightmare,” he admits, like it’s an awful secret. He leans back in the chair and turns towards the TV, mindlessly flicking through the channels. 

With his gaze off you, you glance down and pull the waistband of your shorts down. You swallow down your tears and bile. Your underwear, like you feared, is gone. You glance towards Stu and narrow your eyes at the back of his head. You have an idea who took them.

Your parents are out of town for the week. Normally that means Billy and Stu infesting your home like pests. They’re being oddly evasive when you call, though. Not that you’re complaining. You haven’t been interested in being around Stu since the carnival. 

He makes you feel unsafe. As much of a dick as he could be, never, have you ever feared him before. But you do now. You’re terrified of him. Even thinking about him makes you want to get up and check your closets for unwanted intruders. 

However, as much as his absence is a relief, it brings with it its own problems. Nothing with Stu can ever be easy, can it? 

You keep having the same nightmare. Except each night it gets closer and closer. You feel more of it than you ever want to. They’re turning into uncomfortably sexual dreams. You wake up wet and without any underwear. You can’t blame Stu for that when he’s not even in your house, though. Which leaves you fucking petrified when you wake up. 

Because you know, deep down, you know someone wasn’t in your house. Something was, though. A heavy presence lingers over you during the day and makes you terrified to walk around the open spaces of your home. You’d lock yourself in your room all week if you could, but even that doesn’t feel safe. 

The door slams behind you and you jolt forward with a scream. You stare at your backdoor with a horrified expression, glaring at it like it might start talking and reveal its secrets. Your house is old, there’s nothing odd about doors occasionally closing on your own. 

Except, that hadn’t been open. You’ve kept it firmly locked all week, terrified of a possible home invasion. You need to stop watching scary movies on your own. 

You pull your knees into your chest, staring at your door until you’re satisfied it’s not going to slam shut again. Slowly, you turn back towards your TV and keep watching the only good sitcom you could find at this time of night. 

The second you let yourself get comfortable, however, you hear your bedroom door upstairs slam shut, followed quickly by rushing footsteps. Your eyes widen in terror and you mute your TV, glaring up at the ceiling and hoping you just imagined it. 

Footsteps behind you, running across the linoleum. You whip around, nearly shrieking when you spot something black darting into your pantry closet. You scramble for the phone beside you. You slam 911 into the keypad and press it against your ear, keeping your eyes riveted on the pantry closet. 

There’s a steady beep on the other end. The line’s dead. Someone cut your phone line. That’s okay. You can work with that. You can beat something real, but you’ve got no hope against something otherworldly. 

You stand slowly, unmuting the TV so the laugh track will cover your movements better. You creep towards your linen closet, reaching for the bat your dad keeps in there for this very reason. He’s got different weapons placed all over the house and you blame him for some of your paranoia. But right now, you’re eternally grateful for the protection it’s providing you. 

You slip into the kitchen, sliding quietly across the tiles on your socks. You position yourself behind the pantry door, your hand shaking as you reach for the handle. Just as you rip it open, the lights go out. 

You scream wildly, waving the bat around with as much force as you can, hoping to just hit something solid. Glass crashes against the floor and you feel the bat connecting with something. The lights flip back on and your mother’s vase is shattered along the ground. There’s no sign of the intruder and you think you might throw up when you hear more footsteps upstairs, two sets this time. 

But then someone darts through the living room, another flash of black before they’re gone. Three? How are you supposed to handle three?

Something titters behind you, bordering on a giggle, and you whip around, bat waving through the air recklessly. No one was there, no sign anyone was. And there’s no possible way for you to have missed them running past you. There’s nowhere to go or hide. 

You think of the shadow you’ve seen in the closet and the lights flicker like they’re agreeing with you. The thing that’s been haunting your nightmares, it’s in the house with you. The lights flicker again and your stomach drops to the floor. Your heart is in your throat as you hear your voice chanted from upstairs.  

It’s like staring at the Devil’s eyes at the circus again. You feel like there’s something being taken from you. You feel cold, empty, like you’re missing something you need. Something’s toying with you. Making you it’s twisted little plaything. 

You can feel the tears clawing their way up your throat. The call of your voice gets louder and louder until it feels like it's being screamed straight into your ears. You want to run, want to fight, want to do anything but stand here and you can’t. 

You can’t move. It’s just like your dreams. Your bones are metal and you are stuck. There’s a rough shove to your back, though you don’t feel physical hands on you. And then someone’s moving you, your legs are puppeteered as you’re directed up the stairs. 

You stub your toes on every step, crawling up them like a child learning to use them for the first time. Every time you slow down or try and stop, you’re dragged forward again. Your bedroom door creaks open and warmth carves its way down your cheeks. 

You stumble inside, the bat thudding to the floor as your hand goes limp around the handle. You want to call out to the entity, but your jaw is wired shut. You stand in the middle of your room, sobbing and terrified and completely alone. 

Your closet door slowly creaks open and you brace yourself for the worst. Billy comes flying out, shouting nonsense at you as you scream until your throat feels bloody. Stu follows behind him, ripping off his stupid mask and giving you a wide-eyed look. 

You crumple to the floor, covering your head and crying as you come down from the fear that you are being haunted. Stu kneels before you, hands gentle as they take your arms away from your head. 

He looks like Stu now. He looks like the boy you grew up with. His eyes are full of worry as he pushes wet strands of hair off your cheeks. “Hey, hey, alright,” he tugs you into his chest and you throw your arms around him wildly. You cling tightly to him, taking in heaving breaths and trying to find some comfort from his touch. 

“You fucking dicks,” you sob into his sweater. “I thought I was going to die.”

Billy scoffs as he stares awkwardly behind him. “Yeah,” he mutters bluntly, “I can tell.” He watches you cry for a little while longer before he gets irritated. “Hey, this was supposed to be fun. Would you lighten up?”

You suck in a deep breath, astonishment at what he just said temporarily stopping the tears of terror. You rip yourself away from Stu, ignoring the way his hands linger. “Excuse me?” You demand, glaring up at Billy.

He shrugs, “It was just a prank, chill out.”

You scoff, taking in a sharp breath and nodding your head. “Right, no, you’re right. It’s not like my friends used my biggest fucking fear against me!” You shout, shoving him backward. He stumbles into the corner of your desk and you glare at him and Stu. 

“You’re horrible fucking friends, you know that.” You storm out of your room and pause at the top of the stairs. They linger in your doorway. Stu looks like a kicked dog and Billy looks like he’s about to blow the hell up. 

“I don’t even know how you guys pulled all that shit off, but fuck you.” You give them both an astonished glare before shaking your head and going back down the stairs. “I hate you,” you scream, your voice shrill and full of uncontrollable rage. 

Billy almost follows after you, probably to give you a shit apology and then let everything smooth over naturally. But he stops, foot hovering over the top of the stairs. He glances back at Stu and frowns, “What the hell did you do?” Stu gives him a confused look and Billy glares. “She wasn’t supposed to be terrified for her life, fuckwad. What the hell did you do to her?”

Stu shrugs and gives him a too-wide grin and for the first time, Billy finds himself disturbed by his friend. “Magician’s secret man, cannot, will not tell.” He zips his mouth shut and tosses the key, winking at Billy. Billy gives him a disgusted scoff and follows after you. They can hear you ranting in the kitchen, slamming your drawers shut, and shouting vile insults at them. 

Stu watches Billy go down the stairs, his smile slowly fading from his face. Something dark passes over Stu’s face, something wicked, something unnatural. Perhaps it was all just a trick. 

Or maybe that kid’s Latin wasn’t so fake after all. 

end. — I do not own the characters or the movie Scream, but this writing is my own all rights reserved © not-neverland06 2024. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.

wicked influence

Poly!Ghostface x fem!reader

a/n: I’ve wanted to write for Scream for forever and have never gotten around to it. Well, it’s slasher season baby! I finally have my reason. (When I tell you that this movie was my sexual awakening as a child, I mean it. That’s not necessarily good, but it’s true. )

Summary: Visiting a Halloween carnival with your two best friends doesn’t seem that bad until you reach the haunted house. You’ve never been able to explain your fear of demons to anyone before, you have no idea where it comes from. But you do know, going into a hell themed house with teenagers screaming shitty Latin at you is one of your worst nightmares. You think everything’s okay until, suddenly, your nights are filled with visits from a strange shadowy entity and you don’t recognize the look in Stu’s eyes anymore. (Part of my Halloween Palooza)

“Hey! Demons are a perfectly rational thing to be afraid of.”

Billy scoffs and rolls his eyes, nudging you further toward the haunted house. “Alright, alright, would you calm down and just move it.” You stare into the gaping jaw of the devil that serves as the entrance to the house. You know this is all just a way for people to make a quick buck. 

There’s not going to be anything in there except teenage actors and shitty SFX makeup. But that doesn’t make the looming doorway any less menacing. It doesn’t make your heart stop racing or your breathing any easier. 

Billy frowns as some people shove past you all, tired of waiting for you to move inside. They cut the line and you can’t help but be grateful. Your nails dig into your palms until you feel the warmth of blood and have to swallow down bile. 

Stu and Billy both lean towards you, varying looks of confusion on their faces. “Holy shit,” a grin breaks out on Stu’s face and he smiles widely at you. “You’re terrified, aren’t you?” He pokes you like you might be a statue, unmoving and solemn. 

You stumble back and are effectively broken out of your terrified stupor. You swat at Stu’s wandering hands and glare at him. “Shut the fuck up,” you snap. But in your anxious state, it all comes out as one jumbled mess. 

Billy lets out a disappointed sigh and gives you a funny look. “Alright, let’s just go. You’re not going in and it’s stupid to just stand out here all night.” Stu opens his mouth to argue but Billy shoots him a sharp look. You hate how sensitive they think you are. You can handle one stupid fucking haunted house. You’re not completely useless. 

Still, you practically gulp as the Devil’s eyes bore into yours. You feel like your soul is being sucked out through your feet, leaving you startlingly cold. “I,” you clear your throat, waiting until it feels strong enough to speak. “I can do this,” you grit out, sounding like you’re trying to convince yourself more than them. 

Stuf lets out a brief chuckle and Billy throws his elbow into his gut. Stu doubles over dramatically and you can’t help but laugh a little. Billy gives you a raised brow and you nod your head. “I just need a little nudge,” you mutter, glancing back at the house. 

Stu grins and creeps behind you. “I got you babes,” he tells you in a ridiculous voice. You barely have a second to process what’s happening before he’s lifting you up and practically tossing you inside. Immediately, there’s a fake chainsaw in your face and a screaming Bubba Sawyer. You stumble back with a gasp, falling into Stu’s open arms. 

“How’s that for a nudge?” Billy mutters as he brushes past you. You grab onto the back of his shirt and follow behind him. He glances over his shoulder at you with a knowing smirk and continues forward. None of the scares get him, but they get you. 

The actors catch onto that. They also catch onto how fake and dramatic Stu is. Half of them target you for a good scream and the other half avoid you because of how obnoxious he’s being. You can already tell how bored BIlly is. There’s not enough gore in here for him. 

He needs more blood splatter and fresh corpses, while you’re pleasantly surprised by the contents of the house. You’d really been dreading the demonic themes, but it seems like that’s not a huge factor. So far it’s just a few overzealous teens and some spiders on a string. 

Sure, it’s still scaring the bejeezus out of you. But there’s a difference between a quick scream and a deeply rooted phobia. 

You don’t know when this supernatural fear of yours began. Maybe your parents let you traumatize yourself with the crucifix scene in The Exorcist too young. But you know it’s been with you nearly your entire life. 

You think you’re safe, that you can just relax and let yourself have fun, then you reach the final door. The lights are flickering so hard you think you might have a seizure, but you can see enough to know what’s before you. A red, rotted door, with three upside-down nines barely hanging onto it. 

“Oh god,” you whisper and you think the boys can’t hear you. But then you feel Stu’s hands suddenly clamping around your neck and you leap into Billy with a shrill scream. Billy flinches away from the noise, turning to glare at you. 

Stu doubles over, laughing his ass off at your expense and grinning wildly at you. “Jesus, we’re not even in there yet. What is wrong with you?” He says it like a joke but you can hear the truth of it lingering. It stings, the slight cruelty in his tone. 

There’s nothing wrong with being afraid of something. Fear is healthy. The absence of fear is idiocy. You shove past Billy and turn to Stu with a mean glare. “I’m going to go in here and when I get out, I’m fucking leaving you.”

You shove the door open and take a step inside. You put on a brave face for about five seconds before you turn to see if they’ll follow you. You see just a glimpse of them before the door creaks closed. Billy is leaning against the wall, watching you with a half-amused expression. But Stu looks odd. 

That doesn’t even seem like the right word. His face is completely devoid of any emotion. He looks expressionless and you’ve never seen Stu like that before. Whether it’s for good reason or not, he’s always making a face. Right now, you don’t even recognize him. Were it not for the outfit he was wearing you would think someone else had snuck up behind Billy. 

The door is closed before you can call out to him and you find yourself plunged in complete darkness. There’s no noise for a long few moments. You can’t tell which way is the door and which is the exit. 

At first, you worry you went in the wrong direction and entered an empty part of the house. A sudden cackle breaks through the air, and you leap forward, stumbling into the wall. You can already feel your heart beginning to race. Even though you can hear the static of a speaker and you know, deep down, that it's fake, you’re frozen in fear. 

There’s a brief flash of light, just enough for you to see torn wallpaper and upside-down crosses. And something standing in the corner. “All alone?” A voice rasps and you whimper, pressing yourself up against the wall. You can’t tell if your eyes are open or closed, it’s too dark to know. You hope they’re closed. Whatever’s about to happen is going to traumatize you, you just know it. 

A door creaks behind you just as the lights begin flickering on and off. Through brief flashes of illumination, you see something running towards you. They’re screaming Latin at you, water hits your face and you begin screaming uncontrollably. Footsteps pound towards you, egging on the racing beat of your heart. 

A jarring grip lands on your shoulder and you swing out wildly. Your fist connects with something hard and you hiss in pain. There’s a brief pause where the only thing you can hear is your panting. 

“Ow!” Someone snaps, an irritated raspy voice. The lights flick on and you squint against the sudden glare, blinking rapidly to try and lessen the burn on your eyes. 

Billy and Stu stand on either side of you, astonished looks on both of their faces. A teenage boy in a shitty priest costume and red face paint stands before you. He’s rubbing his eye and cussing at you. “You fucking punched me!”

“You ran at me!” You yell back immediately, glaring at the little asshole. “I don’t think you’re supposed to touch me.”

He glares at you through one eye and points to Stu and Billy. “I didn’t!” He shouts and you flinch back, grimacing. “Your fucking friend did.” You clench your eyes shut, taking in a deep breath. Both you and Billy turn slowly towards Stu. His face is as red as the kid’s as he struggles to contain his laughter. 

“Unbelievable!” You snap at him, slapping his shoulder roughly. He jolts, narrowing his eyes down at you. 

“Hey!” He protests, “I was joking around. You’re the one that punched him.” He points the blame to you and you can’t argue. You did, technically, punch him. But it’s Stu’s fault. If he hadn’t snuck up on you, you would have just kept on screaming. You never would have touched the kid. 

In awkward silence, you walk the boy out of the haunted house and buy him a cold drink to press against his steadily swelling eye. You can see purple shining through the fading paint and grimace. He throws himself down on a wooden picnic table and sighs forlornly. 

“Thanks a lot, lady,” he mutters bitterly. Stu’s lips twitch as he watches the kid tug at his costume. You glare up at him and shove him away. He stumbles behind the table shooting you a sharp glare. You’re taken aback by the look. 

It’s not like you’ve never gotten a little pushy with him before. His love language was manhandling. But the look on his face is unrecognizable. You’d thought you’d imagined it earlier, how off he had seemed. But it’s not fake now. You’re looking it clearly in the eye and you can’t deny the truth of it. 

“I’m gonna sue,” the kid grumbles and you’re snapped out of your stare-off. You try and shake off the chilling feeling of unfamiliarity but it’s nearly impossible. You’re still wound up from the haunted house, you’re sure you’re just imagining things.

Billy shoves his shoulder and the kid falls back onto the table. “You’re not suing.”

He puffs his chest up and glares at Billy, “I could.”

Billy places his hand on the table, leaning in on the kid’s space until he’s flinching back. You avert your eyes, uncomfortable with the sudden display of dominance. Yet, you don’t stop him from bullying the kid out of a lawsuit. “You won’t,” Billy tells him, a clear threat. 

The kid gives a shaky nod of his head, but Billy still doesn’t let up. There’s a slight curl of malice to his lips, you glance over to Stu for support. His attention is rapt upon Billy, something like hunger in his eyes. You feel like you’re watching two lions corner a gazelle, you can practically see the boy’s hands trembling from fear.  

“Alright,” you clear your throat and tug Billy back by the shirt. He resists you at first and you know he only backs off because he wants to. It’s not for you. You look at the boy and give him a weak smile, “I really am sorry,” you can hear Stu laughing behind him and roll your eyes. The kid takes the drink off his eye and glares at you. 

“Yeah, whatever lady. Why don’t you take a valium or something and chill the hell out?” He gets off the bench and brushes past you, shaking his head. You glance down at your fist and hiss at the pain shooting along your fingers. The skin of your knuckles is split and aching from hitting him. 

Billy huffs out a laugh and takes your hand in his. “Really got him, didn’t you?”

“I didn’t mean to,” you argue petulantly. 

Stu finally collects himself and rejoins you both, throwing his gangly body on the wooden picnic table. “Why don’t you tell his face that?” He practically snorts, looking down at your hand and then laughing all over again. It’s really not that funny. Even Billy looks confused by his boisterous nature. 

He’s a dick, but this is a lot. You and Billy exchange a confused glance before looking back at Stu. But he’s silent now, already staring back at you both. Again, chills go up and down your arms at the empty look in his eyes. His lips are smiling, but his eyes are devoid of anything. 

“Maybe we should just go home.” You suggest, trying to keep the suspicion out of your tone. “Carnival’s a bust,” Billy exchanges one last look with you before nodding. 

“We still doing movies at Stu’s?” You desperately want to say no. Right now, all you want is to get as far away from him as possible. Earlier, with them and the kid, that’s normal. They’ve always had a bit of a mean streak when it comes to people weaker than them. 

The way his eyes are boring into you right now is anything but normal. You’ve never felt quite so uncomfortable near him, but you can’t ignore the feeling. Every primal instinct of survival is screaming at you to run, but you can’t. You can’t say no. All you do is nod, tongue glued to the roof of your mouth. Stu’s eyes brighten slightly at your words, but it’s still nothing compared to how it should be. 

You get ahead of Billy, not wanting to walk next to Stu. All you need is a good night’s sleep and you’ll be over this whole thing. Still, you can’t shake the feeling of too many eyes lingering on you as you make the trek to the car. The wet straw beneath your feet swallows the sounds of your steps and you try not to be discomforted by the quiet. It’s a carnival, where did all the people go?

The black-and-white static of the TV is the only thing to illuminate the room. It shines upon your face, makes it so you can only see in that square of light. You assume Billy is on the ground, passed out. And Stu is probably curled up in the overstuffed armchair. 

Yet, you can’t look. As much as you try to crane your neck, try and find some comfort in their presence, you can’t move. Your body is pinned down by a weight you can’t see, only feel. This isn’t sleep paralysis. It’s like being held down by someone stronger and bigger than you. 

You have no control over your body. You have no control over anything. Your breathing kicks up, coming in short panicked bursts. Your eyes roll around wildly, trying to find something, anything, to focus on. 

You find yourself depressingly devoid of any distractions. Until a shadow creeps along the ceiling. At first, you think it’s just your eyes playing tricks on you. Like when you stare at one spot in the dark for too long and start to see impossible shapes. 

But this is different. No matter how many times you blink or look away, it keeps moving. You whimper as it crawls over you. It dangles from the ceiling. You see nothing, only feel its eyes on you. There is no clear shape lurking within it, just malevolent malice. 

It drops down behind the arm of the couch and you open your mouth to scream, hoping to wake one of the boys. Nothing comes out but a strangled gasp of air. You struggle for noise but the more you try, the harder you find it to bring air in. 

Your eyes swim as you go lightheaded. You almost miss the tendrils creeping over the fabric of the couch. You almost don’t see it covering your feet. You wish you had missed it. You wish you just closed your eyes and never opened them again. But it’s like something is keeping those pried open too. 

You can’t feel your legs. That’s the weight. It’s not someone holding you down. Your body is completely limp. It’s as though your bones were replaced with metal, you’re sinking so far into the cushions they’re rising around you. Even your fingers are too heavy to twitch. 

You begin to feel it in your head, a sudden sinking feeling as it tips further and further back. Soon, you can only watch the shadow through your peripheral. Cold terror washes over you and fills your veins with something ill. 

It covers your legs like a veil, slithering on them. Your thighs shoot apart and the blanket goes flying across the room. You can only let out a choked whimper as it dives between your parted limbs. 

You shoot up with a gasp, sunlight peers through Stu’s living room windows, filling the room with much-needed warmth. You glance down, fisting the blanket and tugging it up to your chest in relief. Your heart is still racing and there’s sweat caked along your neck. But you can move your body freely again. It must have just been an awful nightmare. 

You glance to the side and nearly scream. Stu lounges in the armchair, Billy’s still asleep on the ground. Stu stares right at you, empty eyes, wide smile. “Good dream?” he inquires, but the tone of his voice tells you he already knows the answer. 

You swallow, fighting the sandpaper feeling of your throat and shaking your head. “No,” you croak, afraid to speak much louder than a whisper. 

His smile widens and you feel your head feeling heavy again. “I love a good nightmare,” he admits, like it’s an awful secret. He leans back in the chair and turns towards the TV, mindlessly flicking through the channels. 

With his gaze off you, you glance down and pull the waistband of your shorts down. You swallow down your tears and bile. Your underwear, like you feared, is gone. You glance towards Stu and narrow your eyes at the back of his head. You have an idea who took them.

Your parents are out of town for the week. Normally that means Billy and Stu infesting your home like pests. They’re being oddly evasive when you call, though. Not that you’re complaining. You haven’t been interested in being around Stu since the carnival. 

He makes you feel unsafe. As much of a dick as he could be, never, have you ever feared him before. But you do now. You’re terrified of him. Even thinking about him makes you want to get up and check your closets for unwanted intruders. 

However, as much as his absence is a relief, it brings with it its own problems. Nothing with Stu can ever be easy, can it? 

You keep having the same nightmare. Except each night it gets closer and closer. You feel more of it than you ever want to. They’re turning into uncomfortably sexual dreams. You wake up wet and without any underwear. You can’t blame Stu for that when he’s not even in your house, though. Which leaves you fucking petrified when you wake up. 

Because you know, deep down, you know someone wasn’t in your house. Something was, though. A heavy presence lingers over you during the day and makes you terrified to walk around the open spaces of your home. You’d lock yourself in your room all week if you could, but even that doesn’t feel safe. 

The door slams behind you and you jolt forward with a scream. You stare at your backdoor with a horrified expression, glaring at it like it might start talking and reveal its secrets. Your house is old, there’s nothing odd about doors occasionally closing on your own. 

Except, that hadn’t been open. You’ve kept it firmly locked all week, terrified of a possible home invasion. You need to stop watching scary movies on your own. 

You pull your knees into your chest, staring at your door until you’re satisfied it’s not going to slam shut again. Slowly, you turn back towards your TV and keep watching the only good sitcom you could find at this time of night. 

The second you let yourself get comfortable, however, you hear your bedroom door upstairs slam shut, followed quickly by rushing footsteps. Your eyes widen in terror and you mute your TV, glaring up at the ceiling and hoping you just imagined it. 

Footsteps behind you, running across the linoleum. You whip around, nearly shrieking when you spot something black darting into your pantry closet. You scramble for the phone beside you. You slam 911 into the keypad and press it against your ear, keeping your eyes riveted on the pantry closet. 

There’s a steady beep on the other end. The line’s dead. Someone cut your phone line. That’s okay. You can work with that. You can beat something real, but you’ve got no hope against something otherworldly. 

You stand slowly, unmuting the TV so the laugh track will cover your movements better. You creep towards your linen closet, reaching for the bat your dad keeps in there for this very reason. He’s got different weapons placed all over the house and you blame him for some of your paranoia. But right now, you’re eternally grateful for the protection it’s providing you. 

You slip into the kitchen, sliding quietly across the tiles on your socks. You position yourself behind the pantry door, your hand shaking as you reach for the handle. Just as you rip it open, the lights go out. 

You scream wildly, waving the bat around with as much force as you can, hoping to just hit something solid. Glass crashes against the floor and you feel the bat connecting with something. The lights flip back on and your mother’s vase is shattered along the ground. There’s no sign of the intruder and you think you might throw up when you hear more footsteps upstairs, two sets this time. 

But then someone darts through the living room, another flash of black before they’re gone. Three? How are you supposed to handle three?

Something titters behind you, bordering on a giggle, and you whip around, bat waving through the air recklessly. No one was there, no sign anyone was. And there’s no possible way for you to have missed them running past you. There’s nowhere to go or hide. 

You think of the shadow you’ve seen in the closet and the lights flicker like they’re agreeing with you. The thing that’s been haunting your nightmares, it’s in the house with you. The lights flicker again and your stomach drops to the floor. Your heart is in your throat as you hear your voice chanted from upstairs.  

It’s like staring at the Devil’s eyes at the circus again. You feel like there’s something being taken from you. You feel cold, empty, like you’re missing something you need. Something’s toying with you. Making you it’s twisted little plaything. 

You can feel the tears clawing their way up your throat. The call of your voice gets louder and louder until it feels like it's being screamed straight into your ears. You want to run, want to fight, want to do anything but stand here and you can’t. 

You can’t move. It’s just like your dreams. Your bones are metal and you are stuck. There’s a rough shove to your back, though you don’t feel physical hands on you. And then someone’s moving you, your legs are puppeteered as you’re directed up the stairs. 

You stub your toes on every step, crawling up them like a child learning to use them for the first time. Every time you slow down or try and stop, you’re dragged forward again. Your bedroom door creaks open and warmth carves its way down your cheeks. 

You stumble inside, the bat thudding to the floor as your hand goes limp around the handle. You want to call out to the entity, but your jaw is wired shut. You stand in the middle of your room, sobbing and terrified and completely alone. 

Your closet door slowly creaks open and you brace yourself for the worst. Billy comes flying out, shouting nonsense at you as you scream until your throat feels bloody. Stu follows behind him, ripping off his stupid mask and giving you a wide-eyed look. 

You crumple to the floor, covering your head and crying as you come down from the fear that you are being haunted. Stu kneels before you, hands gentle as they take your arms away from your head. 

He looks like Stu now. He looks like the boy you grew up with. His eyes are full of worry as he pushes wet strands of hair off your cheeks. “Hey, hey, alright,” he tugs you into his chest and you throw your arms around him wildly. You cling tightly to him, taking in heaving breaths and trying to find some comfort from his touch. 

“You fucking dicks,” you sob into his sweater. “I thought I was going to die.”

Billy scoffs as he stares awkwardly behind him. “Yeah,” he mutters bluntly, “I can tell.” He watches you cry for a little while longer before he gets irritated. “Hey, this was supposed to be fun. Would you lighten up?”

You suck in a deep breath, astonishment at what he just said temporarily stopping the tears of terror. You rip yourself away from Stu, ignoring the way his hands linger. “Excuse me?” You demand, glaring up at Billy.

He shrugs, “It was just a prank, chill out.”

You scoff, taking in a sharp breath and nodding your head. “Right, no, you’re right. It’s not like my friends used my biggest fucking fear against me!” You shout, shoving him backward. He stumbles into the corner of your desk and you glare at him and Stu. 

“You’re horrible fucking friends, you know that.” You storm out of your room and pause at the top of the stairs. They linger in your doorway. Stu looks like a kicked dog and Billy looks like he’s about to blow the hell up. 

“I don’t even know how you guys pulled all that shit off, but fuck you.” You give them both an astonished glare before shaking your head and going back down the stairs. “I hate you,” you scream, your voice shrill and full of uncontrollable rage. 

Billy almost follows after you, probably to give you a shit apology and then let everything smooth over naturally. But he stops, foot hovering over the top of the stairs. He glances back at Stu and frowns, “What the hell did you do?” Stu gives him a confused look and Billy glares. “She wasn’t supposed to be terrified for her life, fuckwad. What the hell did you do to her?”

Stu shrugs and gives him a too-wide grin and for the first time, Billy finds himself disturbed by his friend. “Magician’s secret man, cannot, will not tell.” He zips his mouth shut and tosses the key, winking at Billy. Billy gives him a disgusted scoff and follows after you. They can hear you ranting in the kitchen, slamming your drawers shut, and shouting vile insults at them. 

Stu watches Billy go down the stairs, his smile slowly fading from his face. Something dark passes over Stu’s face, something wicked, something unnatural. Perhaps it was all just a trick. 

Or maybe that kid’s Latin wasn’t so fake after all. 

end. — I do not own the characters or the movie Scream, but this writing is my own all rights reserved © not-neverland06 2024. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.

big bad wolf - Diokophobia is the irrational and extreme fear of being chased.

starring: Logan Howlett as the monster in the woods

wicked influence - Daemonophobia is the intense fear of demons, demonic possession, and otherworldly influence

starring: Stu & Billy as our devoted men of the cloth

paranormal love - Phasmophobia is the intense fear of ghosts, haunting, and possessions.

starring: James ‘Bucky’ Barnes as our haunted leading man

haunted past - Mnemophobia is the fear of memories and past events

starring: Mike Schmidt as our underpaid hero

send scream requests !! especially ethan landry, stu macher, billy loomis, and amber freeman

I agree, i'm genderfluid and not girly as other girls are

Reposting a comment I made on a post and adding to it

x Reader fics need to handle writing “reader” better sometimes

As a 6ft afab person who’s built like a man and has never been super feminine and has a more unique haircut that’s shorter I hate to read about “readers” petite, small, pale body and her “long flowy straight hair”, etc.

Reader is meant to be ambiguous!! And if it’s important to the plot please mention it at the beginning!!! If it’s not important to the plot why is it being included???

Some people who are reading may be tall, fat, skinny, short, or even somewhere in between. The readers could have a hijab, 4c hair, locks, braids, long hair, short hair, wavy, no hair and even more.

Stop making all readers so sweet and innocent, I want a reader who’s petty and sassy sometimes. I’ve noticed also that so many readers are either too baby to do anything or over powered.

Personally I also hate reading about obviously toxic men and relationships that the reader goes back to because they are “so in love”, like no please let me deck that sucker and leave them in the dust and be happier.

Also, if you label your post with the tag “___ x reader” or titled with “___ x reader” and then make descriptions and then ADD A NAME!!! It’s not an x reader fic and I heavily want to block you.

Edit:

Hey hello! I just wanted to add that I heavily respect and love fic writers! So many have a talent that I will never reach or have and I appreciate your content being put out at all! I made this post as a 5 am ramble and was half delirious lol

People can write as they please and I’ll ignore it if I’m not interested or I’ll make slight internal edits to fit me if I am

Billy and Stu with an s/o who gets into a lot of fights

Billy is usually the one who patches up any wounds you have, while Stu’s in the background panicking over you being hurt.

If they ever catch you fighting Stu cheers you on while Billy tries to pull you away.

Stu only starts worrying when you start getting hurt.

Billy always keeps a little first aid kit in his backpack now just in case.

Stu loves taunting the person you’re fighting and cheering you on.

Billy only uses your full name when scolding you, and he only scolds you after he’s done dressing your wounds.

Billy will jump in if he sees you losing, Stu will jump in if you ask him to, although he’s a little hesitant about it.

Billy almost always has to drag you away before the teachers get there, just so he can clean your wounds before you get in trouble.

Stu will buy you candy to make you feel better, especially if you got more hurt than usual.

To distract you, Billy will put on a movie if the pain of your wounds is too much.

Stu kisses you and jokes that he’s kissing your pain away.

Stu never fails to make you giggle, even while you’re in trouble with either Billy or the school.

They hate seeing you in pain, so they will make sure you rest for at least 12 hours after the fight.

Stu stays by you the next day, making sure that you don’t try to fight anyone.

Billy usually bribes you into resting by giving you cookies throughout the day. Maybe kisses if you’re lucky.

Stu always has some kind of makeup on him just in case you want to hide a bruise.

Billy makes sure you change the bandages often, especially if it’s sort of a bigger wound.

Stu will randomly pull you into an empty classroom in the middle of the day to cuddle.

All in all they’re pretty good at taking care of you.

Billy and Stu with a very feminine s/o

Stu loves watching you get ready, sometimes he’ll help you pick out a dress or a shade of lipstick.

Billy watches you subtly, interested in the process but not as much as Stu.

Often if a victim has a nice dress or something they think you would like, they take it or at least find out where it’s from.

Stu will ask you to do his makeup, saying he wants to be pretty like you.

Billy will take pictures for you when you want, seeing as he’s the only one who’s trusted to actually work a camera.

Stu will put on a a dark shade of your lipstick and plant a messy kiss on Billy’s cheek. It makes you and Stu laugh until Billy manages to get it off.

You’ll do the same thing to Stu, laughing as he immediately tries to wipe it off, only succeeding in smearing it.

Stu carries your makeup around in his backpack at school, ready to give it to you whenever you needed to touch up.

If Stu sees a nice piece of jewelry on a victim he will take it for you.

Billy saves any and all pictures he takes of you and keeps some of them on the mirror in his bathroom.

Stu loves helping you with your hair, but he also loves messing it up. Depends on his mood that day.

Billy will sometimes choose your outfit and lay it out for you if you fall asleep early.

They always remind you to do skincare before you go to bed.

Sometimes they might even do skincare with you just to help you feel motivated.

Heyyyy

Could you do Billy Loomis being a dad to his and the reader's kids?

I explained that weird but you get it lol

❝Billy Loomis as dad❞

Be part of the tag list and posting schedule - TAG LIST E SCHEDULE

★ Understanding Dangerous Situations: Billy helps his children recognize potentially dangerous situations. He encourages them to trust their instincts. Perhaps learning how to use a knife, gun and even the basics of wrestling will become frequent as they get older;

★ A Protective Father: Billy is an extremely protective father when it comes to his and the reader's children. He may have a dark past, but he will do anything to ensure the safety and happiness of his family;

★ Fun Days: Billy makes a point of spending quality time with his children. They have their own special days, where they go out for bike rides, picnics in the park or family games. He values these moments and tries to make up for any lost time;

★ Serious Conversations: when his children have difficult questions or are facing problems, after all this boy in my perception was depressed, and nothing changes that in my mind, then Billy is always willing to have serious and honest conversations with them. He believes in the importance of open communication and never wants them to feel alienated or afraid to talk to him;

★ Present Father: despite his own traumas, Billy makes a point of being present in his children's lives. He takes part in parents' meetings at school, attends sporting and musical events, and is always there to support them in their passions and interests;

★ Special Father's Day: Father's Day is an important date for Billy. He doesn't expect expensive presents, but appreciates handmade cards and special family moments. He strives to be a positive role model for his children and is determined to do his best for them;

★ Supporting you: Billy is also there for you as a partner and father. He shares parental responsibilities and strives to create a loving and stable environment for his family;

★ Horror movie tradition: Billy shares his passion for horror movies with his children. They have regular movie nights at home, where they watch classics of the genre together. These evenings are an opportunity to teach his children about the world of cinema and also to create special bonds;

★ Halloween decorations: Billy's house is famous in the neighborhood for its incredible Halloween decorations. He takes this festivity seriously and, when October arrives, the whole family gets involved in decorating the house with pumpkins, ghosts and skeletons. Billy turns his garden into a real horror movie set, but in a fun and scary way;

★ Scary Board Game Nights: Billy's family also love horror-themed board game nights. They have a collection of games like "Mansions of Madness" and "Betrayal at Baldur's Gate" that they play together on special nights. These evenings provide fun and laughter, even with the spooky atmosphere.

❝ Tropical Getaway❞

based on the idea: "spending it on the beach, surfing, swimming, etc" includes: Sidney Prescott, Billy Loomis, Stu Macher, Tatum Riley and Randy Meeks

★ beach bonfire: the group gathers around a cozy beach bonfire as the sun sets, sharing stories, jokes, and fond memories. Sidney brings her favorite mystery novel, and Randy tries to analyze the beach's surroundings, jokingly turning it into a crime scene investigation;

★ surfing lessons: Billy and Stu take on the roles of surfing instructors, eager to show off their skills to the rest of the group. Tatum and You are enthusiastic students, while Sidney and Randy prefer to watch from the shoreline, cheering everyone on;

★ sandcastle competition: the group splits into pairs for a friendly sandcastle building competition. Sidney and You team up, using creative tactics to build an impressive castle. Meanwhile, Billy and Stu try to outdo each other with the most daring and elaborate designs;

★ water balloon fight: Tatum comes up with the idea of a water balloon fight, and everyone enthusiastically joins in. Laughter fills the air as water balloons fly in all directions, with Randy being the mastermind behind sneak attacks;

★ beach volleyball: the group sets up a beach volleyball game, with Sidney and You forming a formidable team against Billy and Stu. The match becomes intense and competitive, but it's all in good fun, and everyone enjoys the playful rivalry;

★ sand dunes adventure: Randy leads the group on a thrilling sand dunes adventure, racing each other down the slopes and capturing the exhilarating moments on camera. It becomes a memorable experience filled with laughter and shared adrenaline;

★ picnic by the shore: Tatum prepares a delicious beach picnic, complete with sandwiches, snacks, and refreshing drinks. They all sit together, enjoying the tasty treats and engaging in lively conversations about their favorite movies and books;

★ sunset serenade: as the sun begins to set, Randy brings out his guitar, and the group gathers to enjoy a serene acoustic session. Everyone joins in, singing along to familiar tunes, and it becomes a beautiful moment of harmony and togetherness.

This is definitely my favorite work, I love the beach and the summer

❝MASTERLIST❞

sinta-se à vontade para solicitar qualquer headcanon 🠒 aqui os títulos riscados e em rosa simbolizam que os posts serão publicados em breve  

★ INFO! (very important)

- SCREAM

Familiar

Ghostface (Billy Loomis) x F!Reader

Word Count: 2.4k

Summary: You've been having a shameful relationship with a certain Woodsboro slasher. One night, during a particularly passionate encounter, you discover who it actually is you’ve been spending time with.

Warnings: Smut, you don’t know you’re fucking Billy so I guess elements of non-con

“Guys come on! So what if I’m a virgin, I mean it’s normal!” Randy sat on the concrete ledge, fighting for his life against the vultures that are Stu and Billy. They cackled and fist bumped, turning back towards Randy to listen to him dig himself deeper into the virginity hole.

You overheard this conversation as you walked towards the group, lunch tray in hand and backpack slung over one shoulder, making it ache. Stu and Tatum sat furthest to the right, as usual, on top of eachother, kissing and touching, Tatum sitting on his lap. Then Sydney to their left, then Billy beside her, chewing on some apple slices Syd had brought. Randy sat furthest to the right, a few feet away from Billy. You strode over, plopping down between Billy and Randy. “What’s everyone arguing about?” You asked with a smile, also silently questioning if your school chicken sandwich would give you salmonella.

Stu laughed, tossing a chocolate in his mouth. “We just figured out that ol’ stunner Randy Meeks here is a virgin.” He threw a candy towards Randy, making him swat it away and flip Stu off. You were conflicted. You could take Randy’s side and say you were too, but that’d be a lie. If you said you weren’t a virgin, then everyone would ask who you’d slept with, because you told Syd and Tatum that you were a virgin. They’d know it happened recently, and you couldn’t exactly tell them you’d been meeting with a certain ghost-faced serial killer.

You shrugged. “Me too.” With a sneer, you peeled the bun back to reveal a questionably pink looking breaded piece of chicken. “You want this?” You held the burger out to Stu, who snatched it up and began to scarf it down like he hadn’t eaten in a month, which left you with a few bland, soggy french fries.

“A-HA!” Randy pointed an accusatory finger at Billy. “Told you! Totally normal to be a virgin. Just cause you're used to seeing movies where every single teenager is having sex doesn’t mean that-“

“It’s not the movies, Spielberg.” Billy interrupted. “Most of the people I know - in this school - aren’t virgins.”

You made eye contact with Billy, just now realizing that he was staring you down, deep brown eyes burning holes into yours. Trying to play off how nervous you were around him, you rolled your eyes. “What’s the big deal, Billy? Being a virgin isn’t embarrassing.”

Billy dropped the apple slice he was eating, leaning closer to you. Something in his eyes looked right through you. It looked like he knew all of your secrets, every little thing you’ve done in the dark. You tensed and backed up, biting half of your cardboard-like fry. “What?” You asked defensively, trying to get him to back off.

He didn’t say a word for a few seconds, staring at you with the same blank expression. “You’re really a virgin, huh?”

Did he know? How could he possibly know? Did EVERYONE know? You started to panic internally, but kept it cool on the outside. “Yes! I don’t know what the big deal is. Just because I haven’t found someone yet doesn’t mean I’m a loser or something.”

“Yeah right! You’re a total loser!” Stu yelled, finishing your sandwich. “I can’t believe a hottie like you is a virgin! Maybe you and Randy can fuck, get it over with.” He wiggled his eyebrows at you. You threw a fry at him, but it missed him, unlike Tatum’s slap on the chest, “Ugh, Stu don’t be gross.” She whined.

Randy’s face was bright red. You always thought he might have a little thing for you, but you’d pretty much had your eyes on Billy ever since high school started. You were glad to be his friend, but when he started dating one of your best friends, Syd, you couldn’t help but be consumed completely with jealousy. She knew you’d had a crush on him a little bit, and still dated him. You convinced her you were over it. Girl code, y’know?

“I’m not rushing to not be a virgin. I’m fine with it.” You said matter-of-factly and ate another fry. Billy scoffed, leaning back against his hands, which earned him a glare from both you and Sydney. You had no clue why he was being so rude about this, he couldn’t know. The bell rang out, signaling both the terrible start of your Algebra class and the blissful end of this conversation. “See you guys later.” You mumbled, taking your tray with you as you left.

The alarm clock beside you read 12:36 AM. You had been reading next to your lamp at your desk for a while, procrastinating your homework long enough to where it hopefully disappeared. With a yawn and an ache behind your eyes you decided it was bedtime. As you stood up to turn your lamp off, you jumped at the sound of your phone ringing. Your body had an immediate response, like Pavlov’s dogs. A phone call late at night usually meant a visit from your favorite ghost.

You picked up the line. “Hello?” You asked, a small smile tugging at your lips as you mindlessly chewed on your fingernail.

“Hi pretty girl…” his sultry voice had you hot in your cool bedroom, cheeks turning pink. “Your blinds are closed. I thought I told you to keep those open.”

“Sorry.” You said softly. “It was hot today…” you walked towards your curtains and moved them to the side, standing in the window.

A hearty chuckle sounded from over the line. “There she is…wearing my favorite shirt…good girl…”

You looked down at the tank top you had on, pink, simple, but low cut and revealing. Perfect for bed and, apparently, Ghostface. With it, you wore a pair of plain black lounge shorts that fit loose around your thighs.

“I’m in a hurry tonight, princess so get to it.” He said quickly, “Is the window unlocked like I told you?”

You nodded, big enough for him to see from his usual spot in the yard. You decided to listen to the man, getting to work. You set the phone down for just a second, quickly taking your shirt off. You had no bra, so he had a full unobstructed view of your tits he loved so much. You picked up the phone again and heard a small groan from him. “Attagirl…”

You shimmied your shorts off your legs, pleased that you had worn panties he liked, your girliest ones, purple with a little gemstone heart on the waistband.

“It’s almost like you knew I was coming, pretty girl.”

You bit your lip, leaning in closer to the window. “Come inside already…” You whispered needily, voice almost trembling from your desperation.

One minute your yard was empty, normal. The picture of suburban bliss. The next, it was overtaken by the shadow of a brutal, ruthless killer, threatening aura filling the whole yard. He should scare you, but your body had a visceral reaction to him. Face hot, skin tingling, panties wet. You wanted him every single night like you’d never wanted anything before, and seeing him was like lighting a fire in your chest. It was borderline humiliating how bad you needed him.

You slid the window open, screen discarded weeks ago, and you waited with vibrating skin. You watched his gloved hands grip the window sill, strong arms pulling him up into your childhood bedroom. Maybe that was part of the appeal. He was so forbidden, having a secret relationship in your home with a man like him was so hot to you.

There he stood in all his glory, black boots heavy on your white rug. He was on you in seconds, hands wandering, grabbing your tits hard with one, the other pushing your panties down. “So wet already.” He growled. His voice close-up was weird, but something you’d gotten used to. You knew he was using a voice changer, it crackled very once in a while and you could hear another voice in tandem with his deep, modulated one. His real voice. You couldn’t hear it well enough to know who it was, but you liked hearing it anyway.

You nodded, breathless, backing up to your bed while pulling him at the bicep with you. You laid back, and he slid your panties off the rest of the way, slipping them into his back pocket. That made your face flame red. The fact that he wanted to keep your wet panties was insane to you, made you feel hot, made you feel wanted. It made you feel like he needed you as bad as you needed him.

“Please…” you whined, pulling on his cloak as he stepped between your legs.

“Needy, huh? Such a pretty girl shouldn’t be acting like such a slut.” He snapped, but you could hear the smirk in his voice. His gloved hands trailed up the smooth skin of your inner thighs, stopping at the apex to admire the way you looked in the low warm light of your bedroom.

He slid his glove off, something he’s never done before. You looked down quickly at his hand, but a firm grip on your jaw slammed you back down to the bed. “No peeking, princess.”

You nodded, finally feeling his skin on yours. His touch felt so much better than the rough material of his gloves. Based on the glance you got, his hands were big, but smooth. Something you didn’t expect from him. You expected rough and dirty hands, not soft and manicured fingers.

All of your pensive thoughts were scrambled when you felt his finger push inside of you, quite easily with how wet you were at this point. He groaned at the feeling of your warm insides, eager to be inside you. A second finger slid in beside the first, curling upwards against the soft spot he knew got a reaction from you. You tensed, legs spreading further with a whine at his touch.

Warmth spread over your legs and belly, up to your chest and face. His fingers squelched as he fucked them into you, curled upwards at every right moment. Your bedsheets felt so soft against your hands as you gripped onto them, eyes closed and mouth open, wanton moans escaping you. While you weren’t focused, he slid a hand underneath his cloak, palming himself through his jeans.

He grumbled something softly, something you didn’t hear.

“Huh?” You asked, that small word the only thing you could muster between moans.

“Wanna taste you.” He said louder, grinding his hips into his hand. “You're gonna be a good girl and keep your eyes shut, okay?” He asked, but you felt a threatening undertone present in his words. You nodded quickly, but whined when his fingers left you. You felt yourself clench around nothing,feeling empty without him inside you.

You shut your eyes tightly, hearing him move to the window to shut the curtain. Your hands were clammy as they pressed over your eyes, you had to make sure you wouldn’t peek. You wanted to see what he looked like, but didn’t want to end up in the paper as the newest Ghostface victim.

For a minute, you waited, then suddenly, an eruption of pleasure as you felt his mouth on you, tongue running up your clit, hands pressing your thighs down against the bed. Without even thinking about it, your hands flew down to grip his hair. He didn’t seem to mind. You tried to gather what little information you could from the feeling. He felt sweaty, but his hair was soft, a little bit longer. But that’s all you could gather. You scrunched your face to emphasize the fact that your eyes were closed.

He sucked your clit into his mouth as two large fingers pushed inside of you. You let out a loud moan, mouth hanging open and back arching up off of the bed. “Holy shit…” you moaned, tightening your grip on his hair. He groaned, squeezing your thighs tight with his bare hands, to your delight, both gloves were off. He was becoming way more comfortable with you.

You felt yourself get close, you felt tingles on your thighs and up your waist, all the way up to your arms. Your whole body felt like it was on fire, you felt so good and you couldn’t think straight. At that moment, you wanted to see him. You needed to know who he was. Desperately, you wanted to kiss him.

“I’m…I…” you whined.

“You’re gonna cum?” He asked, voice breathy with small pants. You tensed up. His voice changer wasn’t on. He sounded so familiar but you couldn’t put your finger on it. It was bugging you, but you couldn’t focus on it too long as your orgasm overtook your body, gushing over his fingers and legs trembling as a damn near shriek left your mouth. You felt like you couldn’t see, your ears were ringing and you felt like you had just been beat up. You decided to look. You had to. His voice. You knew him.

You opened your eyes to see the man you’d been fucking the last few weeks. His lips and chin glistening with your cum, face flushed and soft pants escaping his plumped lips, hair sweaty and tousled from your pulling, falling in front of those gorgeous brown eyes.

You couldn’t believe it. You stared in shock. “….B-Billy?”

Don’t Scream

IMAGINE: The original Ghostface killers have focused on their new target, you. Their plans change, however, when someone else threatens your life. After that night, nothing will ever be the same for you. Set in modern times! WORD COUNT:  3.4k  WARNINGS: Mentions of blood & gore, shitty ending.

“Darcy, how do you expect Lizzie to accept your proposal if you keep insulting her by bringing up the differences between your classes?” You shout at the tv screen.

Here you were, alone in your house on a Friday night, watching Pride and Prejudice. Fun, huh?

“Matthew, don’t pout like that!” You tell the actor on screen. “You knew this was coming, don’t act like an idiot!”

But how could you stay angry at Matthew for so long? He was only playing his part.

As the scene moves on, you suddenly find yourself distracted by a sudden noise. Thinking it might’ve been your parents, you tentatively call out for them. “Mom? Dad? You guys back already?”

When nothing else happens, you shrug your shoulders and shut everything down. It was getting late anyway, and you just wanted to fall asleep in your own bed.

Just as you finally cleaned up the mess you had made, you were taken aback when the house phone rang. Against your better judgment, you picked up the phone without even looking at the ID on the dim screen.

“Hello, (Last Name) residence,” you utter into the speaker, attempting to seem more awake than you were.

“Hello there,” a voice on the other line drawled.

“Hi,” you reply, scrunching your forehead in confusion. This voice didn’t seem to register in your half-asleep mind as you tried to figure out who it was.

“Who’s this?” You ask politely.

“No one,” the voice answered. “I must have called the wrong number.”

Stifling a laugh, you feel yourself shake your head. “Oh, I hate it when that happens,” you say honestly. “Lemme guess you accidentally butt-dialed me?” 

“No,” the voice chuckled, the smooth tone of it convincing you it was a man on the other side of the line. “I was just-”

You quickly tuned out the man when you heard another noise, slightly louder than the one you heard before. As you try to figure out what it was, you quickly remember your unseen guest.

“-hat noise?”

“What?” You whisper into the phone.

“What was that noise I heard?” The man asked.

“I’m not-” You stick your head around the corner and quickly clamp a hand over your mouth.

A duo of men was standing in front of your open door. They had broken a nearby window from the outside and the door looked like someone had kicked it open.

Seeing as the men had not noticed you yet, you quickly slip back into the living room and search for a hiding spot. A few whimpers escaped your throat, just soft enough for the intruders to dismiss but loud enough for the phone’s microphone to pick up.

“What’s going on?!” The voice demanded.

“There are men… In my house,” you hiss, trying not to catch unwanted attention.

Silence was all you heard. You were afraid they had cut the phone line when the man came back, his voice sounding harsh and cold.

“Find somewhere to hide and stay there,” he commanded stiffly. Your body suddenly hesitated, and for good reason.

You didn’t even know whoever was on the other side of the line, and yet they were here, helping keep you alive. But you quickly snapped out of your trance as you heeded his words. Fear was eating you alive as you struggled to not lose it.

If you weren’t so panic-stricken, you might’ve hung up the phone and called the police!

Pressing the phone to your chest, you sneakily made your way past the burglars as they ransacked your home. You thought your heart would just burst out of your chest as you crept into your bedroom. With shaky hands, you locked the door.

“What now?” You whisper into the phone, terrified that one of your guests might hear you.

“Get in the closet and stay there,” the man ordered.

“I-I…. I c-can’t,” you stutter quietly, finding yourself rooted to the floor. You couldn’t move, no matter how much you wanted to.

“DO IT NOW!” The voice snarled, scaring you out of your wits.

Suddenly frightened at the anger in his voice, you toss the phone away. The fear grew stronger as the device smacked into the wall. The sheer force of it had created a sharp ‘smack’ that rattled you to the core.

Sending out a silent plea that you hadn’t been heard, you hold in a shriek as you hear the men from before start talking to one another.

“Did you hear that, Antoine?” One of them questioned, his voice hoarse and in desperate need of a glass of water.

“Yes, I did. It seems we’re not the only ones here,” came a dark reply, the voice rougher than the sharpest piece of sandpaper.

You could feel the air harshly leave your body as you struggled to gain a proper breath.

I’m going to die. I’m going to die. I’m going to-

Your panicked thoughts were quickly interrupted as you heard the front door slam against the wall. You heard the men shout in alarm as they focused on their new distraction.

The sounds of blood-curdling wails filled your ears as you listened to the men grunt and shout as they fought.

But what was there to fight? Besides the intruders, you were the only one in the house. Surely, they weren’t stupid enough to turn on each other.

“Get away from him!” Said the second man as a series of crashes echoed through the hall. He let out a cry as he too was attacked.

A mangled sob escaped your lips as you listened to the men scream and scream until their pitiful wails suddenly cut off rather quickly.

Tears ran down your face, creating a steady stream that cascaded down your chin like heavy rain. As they fell to the floor, you realized that the third party made himself known as heavy footsteps stomped down the hallway causing a ruckus.

The fear in your chest grew as you realized they were heading towards your room.

Snapping out your immobile state, you rushed to your open closet and hid inside, quietly closing the doors. Almost immediately, you heard someone banging on your bedroom door as they struggled to open it. A series of low grunts reached your ears as you heard someone throwing themselves against the weakening slab of wood.

Definitely going to die. Going to die right now. I will never tell (Favorite Actor) that I love them. I-

You stopped your internal rambling once you realized that you no longer heard that awful banging. You couldn’t help but hope that whoever was on the other side of the door left and wouldn’t return.

What luck you had.

You screamed out into your hand as the door slammed open, falling onto your hardwood floors with another harsh bang. With both hands cupping your mouth now, you tried to control your breathing that came out in short, uneven puffs that resembled a panting bear.

You listened carefully as you looked under the small gap under the closet to watch a dark shadow pace around your room. You heard them shuffle around as they ransacked the area.

The surrounding air grew thick as the shadow suddenly froze. Within seconds, the closet door flew open to reveal your unknown attacker.

A tall figure wearing a Father Death costume glared down at you from above. The mask was splattered with a dark crimson fluid that trailed down the face like murky tears. He carried a hunting dagger coated in the same substance by his side and held it menacingly.

You couldn’t help but stare at the knife as blood dripped to the floor almost hypnotically. The killer noticed you staring and tilted his head to the side as he looked you over.

Guessing that he was planning on how to kill you, you asked for a last request before your time was over.

“Please,” you tell the killer, unable to get your voice louder than a whisper. “Just make it quick.”

You looked away from the messenger of death as he raised the blade. This was it. Your life was over and you’d never taste another (Favorite Snack) again.  

It surprised you when you felt nothing. Not the swing of a knife cutting through your flesh. The pain of having blood filling your throat. Not even the warmth leaving your body as you died.

With stiff movements, you slowly open your eyes, only to see the masked figure offering a gloved hand. Seeing that you were wary, the man twitched his fingers, repeating his silent request. 

“Just take it,” he finally spat.

Recognizing that smooth tone to be the same one from the call, you finally grasp his hand. The second you closed your fingers around his covered palm, he hoisted you to your feet. Once you had your feet firmly planted on the ground, you realized the killer hadn’t let go of you.

The stillness in the room reminded you of what had happened only minutes ago. Just recalling the horrible screams made your skin crawl as you looked at the masked man.

“What happened to those men?” You ask meekly.

When he doesn’t answer, you look at the blade in his other hand. The killer followed your gaze and quickly pocketed the knife.

“I have dealt with them,” was the reply you received. Without another word, the man dragged you out of your bedroom.

“Stop!” You shout at him, immediately tugging at your wrist.

This guy slaughtered two burglars in such a way that made your stomach twist and recoil in ways it shouldn’t. There was no way in hell that you would go with this man willingly.

“Stop struggling,” the man spat out, squeezing your arm painfully as he led you to the front door. You passed the bodies as you did so, and it only made your fear increase tenfold.

“Please,” you cried out softly, catching the man’s attention.

He turned around to face you; his covered eyes boring into your own as he waited for you to speak. Your mouth suddenly became dry as you struggled to talk.

“Don’t prolong the inevitable. Just kill me and get it over with. I know that’s what you’re going to do, anyway.”

The man observed you as you eyed his frozen figure as if he were a predator ready to pounce on his prey. And you were the cute fuzzy bunny the big bad wolf wanted for dinner.

“I will not kill you,” the man told you stiffly. “I’m here to... Help.”

"Help?" You repeated. "But why-"

"Don't ask questions!" The man snarled. “Don’t make me regret this.”

Shutting your mouth, you let the man drag you onto your front lawn with no more complaints. It doesn’t stop you from dragging your feet just the tiniest bit. This didn’t go unnoticed by your rescuer.

“Would you stop?!” He practically growled at you. With his free hand, he whipped out his knife he had planned on leaving out of this. “Don’t fight me!”

His words only spurred you to struggle more. This was part of his plan somehow. He would get you to lower your guard, and when you least expected it? He’d rip you apart, just like he did those burglars.

When you refused to listen to him, he let out an angry grunt before bashing the butt of the knife on the back of your head. The sheer force of it sent you tumbling down like JENGA® blocks.

“Son of a-”

It seemed so fuzzy to you. You could register the mask hovering over your face, the steady droning sound in your ears, pale moonlight glimmering on his knife. Then it disappeared out of your line of sight.

If you could think clearly, you would have worried where it was going. Instead, you could only whine softly, slowly blinking as you waited for something to happen.

“They’ll find you here,” you heard him mumble to himself, his voice sounding as if he were underwater. “You’ll be ok.”

What the hell is he talking about?

You stared at the midnight sky behind his head, your mind refusing to focus on anything. The buzzing grew louder, forcing you to shut your eyes. It drowned everything out, leaving you with your rambling thoughts.

For a moment you could think before you felt yourself slip away. The sudden fear overwhelmed you, reminding you of what was happening in the actual world.

Please don’t let me die, not like this.

-

You didn’t remember much after that.

The next time you opened your eyes, you had been in the hospital, attempting to focus on a doctor. With the help of a nurse, they explained you had been attacked. Luckily, someone had tipped off the authorities who rescued you in time before anything else happened.

The interrogation with the cops was a blur. They spun some story about 3 intruders being breaking into your house, with the third one turning his back on his partners and sparing you from his rage.

One officer offered this as being connected to the other murders, but they had shot it down. While they had found records of someone calling the house before the killings, nothing else had fit the profile. They figured the mutilation only occurred because of an unknown argument between the intruders.

They tried pushing you into remembering what happened, but you couldn’t. All you could focus on was the fear you felt at the moment, sending you in tears each time.

It took you a few days after getting released from the hospital, but you finally convinced your parents to let you return to school. You were just so tired of being afraid; you wanted to return to some normalcy.

It was a rocky start. The second you stepped on school grounds, all eyes were on you. You could hear the whispers as you walked by, everyone trying to figure out how you lived. Keeping your head high, you blocked all of it out, intent on putting that behind you.

Unbeknownst to you, you failed to notice two boys during the newfound attention, the two of them sharing unnerving grins as their eyes followed your every move.

-

You couldn’t stop the cry that escaped your throat as you shut your locker, coming face to face with a guy you recognized from your history class. “Fuck!” You practically shouted in his face.

“Sorry about that, didn’t mean to scare you,” he said, his Cheshire grin implying he was anything but sorry.

“It's ok,” you replied, shaking it off. No one says anything at that point, leaving him staring while you shuffled nervously.

“You’re uh... You’re Stu, right?” You asked suddenly. “I sit behind you in history. You’re funny.”

You couldn’t help but laugh as he gave a mock bow. “That’s me, at your service!” Stu glanced around the hallway, frowning when he saw teenagers scattered about. “You got anyone to sit with?” He asked.

You shook your head sadly. Your friends didn’t have the same lunch period as you, leaving you munching on your food alone often.

“That won’t do,” Stu complained as he held out his hand. He managed a reassuring smile when you seemed hesitant to take it. “I won’t bite, my friend and I could use the company, anyway. Let’s go.” By the time you had reached the courtyard fountain, Stu practically had you in tears from how hard you were laughing.

You noticed his friend was another guy you recognized class, Billy; you think his name was.

“What’s so funny?” He chuckled, noticing the way you two were struggling to breathe.

“Listen to this,” Stu struggled to say. “The other day, my sister asked me to pass her lipstick, but I accidentally passed her a glue stick. She still isn't talking to me.”

The boy chuckled. “That would be funny, except you don’t have a sister Stu.”

Stu rolled his eyes, gently sitting you down between the two of them. Billy spares you a glance before holding out a bag of chips. When you just stared at it, he rolled his eyes. 

“Do you want one or not?” He finally asked. You a shy nod, thanking him when you took a chip.

“So...” You drawled out, tired of the silence that had fallen on the three of you. That, and you were desperate to know why they were so interested in you suddenly. Both of them look surprised when you voiced your concerns.

“After what happened,” Billy began, “you looked like you just needed a friend.”

“Yeah!” Stu added. “You laugh at my jokes, and you’re pretty easy on the eyes too!”

-

Billy couldn’t help but think about the knife hidden in his backpack as you squirmed in your spot. Stu couldn’t stop thinking about the way you looked in those pants.

It had been Stu’s idea to make you Ghostface’s next target. The two had seen you around the school; no one would suspect them if you were killed. You were barely a blip on their radar, publicly at least.

Billy was the one on the phone with you that night, putting on the facade he had contacted the wrong house. It had been going fine until Stu reported that someone was at the front door. He had been posted at the side, waiting for his partner’s word to break into the window.

The two hadn’t counted on their unexpected company to ruin their plans. You were theirs to kill; they would not let two low-life burglars take the money shot.

Stu was the one who ran inside, killing the men with no mercy to spare. He had been the one to sneak into your bedroom, fully prepared to finish you as planned. Billy warned him you had hidden in the closet, the perfect place for an easy target.

There had been something about the way you looked at Stu, your (Eye Color) eyes practically boring into his own. Then, instead of pleading with him to spare your life, you had asked that he kill you quickly. Not a single one of his victims had done that.

Somewhere in his sick, twisted little mind, he couldn’t find it in him to murder you.

It pissed Billy off when Stu returned, admitting that he didn’t finish the job. He had almost gone back to do it himself when Stu wrestled him back.

“They’re different!” The taller one shouted in his ear, attempting to keep the argument as quiet as he could. They were killers in public. “We already got in some kills; the police will never think it was us! And Y/N will never know either!”

It was pure luck that Billy agreed to his partner’s demands. It was the same luck that later spared your life; when it came out that you couldn’t remember the night of the attack, Billy let you live. To ensure that you wouldn’t squeal to the authorities if the memories ever came back, the boys came to the idea that they needed to insert themselves into your life.

“You guys are nice,” you admitted. “But you wouldn’t hurt me, right? I don’t want to get my feelings hurt.”

It wouldn’t just be your feelings getting hurt! Stu thought maniacally.

“Wouldn’t dream of it, princess,” Billy assured you, his thoughts straying away from his weapon.

For the moment Billy believed his own words. He could pretend that he and his best friend never tried killing you, befriending you on the idea that maybe you were a good person to be friends with. He wouldn’t have to worry about you discovering that they had plotted to kill you for their demented pleasure.

If things went right in this friendship, you would never have to discover their dark secret.

The things I would do

I need them in a way that is concerning to feminism.

6:52 | B.L. / S.M.

Pairings: Billy Loomis x Female Reader, Stu Macher x Female Reader

Summary: Reader is the daughter of an FBI profiler and childhood best friends with Billy and Stu. When a killer starts terrorizing her friends she has to choose between following her head or her heart.

Warnings: death, blood, stabbing, violence, swearing, manipulation, kissing, major character death (deviation from cannon), mommy issues, reader is smart but a little naive, ending is open to interpretation

Word Count: 7.9k

a/n: happy halloween !! i know it's been a while but hopefully this long ass story makes up for it. please don't cancel me for this, i'm not immune to the charm of a 25 year old slasher film. let me know what you think !

Six minutes and fifty-two seconds.

According to some remarkably arbitrary article you skimmed through in a mediocre issue of Teen Beat, it takes the average person six minutes and fifty-two seconds to determine which movie they’re going to watch.

In six minutes and fifty-two seconds you can brew half a pot of particularly unpalatable coffee in your kitchen. You can listen to your favourite Jeff Buckley song with eight seconds to spare, or drain a teeming glass of water.

Six minutes and fifty-two seconds is also the precise duration of time in which you’ve managed to evade the knife-wielding psychopath who’s killing your friends for sport.

Six minutes and fifty-two seconds.

Now here you stand in Stu Macher’s kitchen, explicitly parallel to the masked executioner, dread trickling deliberately throughout your body, dancing delicately up the incurvation of your spine.

Panic and confusion mingle together earnestly inside as you notice the killer stop before you, scarcely within arm’s reach. He tilts his disguised head at you slowly, almost as though he’s confounded that an armed maniac has been chasing you around the Macher house for the last few minutes.

“Hey...” He murmurs with a strangely familiar resonance, “I’m not gonna hurt ‘ya, Doll.”

Your expeditious breathing slows to a halt. Your face, previously adorned in confusion, is now painted with discouragement as you place who the voice belongs to.

No, you didn’t want to be right. Not this time.

A second unmasked figure appears behind him, holding a horrified and misty-eyed Sydney Prescott in his gangly arms.

“Well,” he draws out with a blinding smile, voice dripping with lunacy, “How do ya like our big reveal, Sunshine?”

Six minutes and fifty-two seconds, you think to yourself indignantly, what a fucking joke.

You were decidedly not a morning person.

This is your first thought, a routinely reoccurring thought at that, as you move to swiftly silence the shrill reverberations of your alarm clock. There’s a distinct lack of routine to your mornings, though you consider it a win in itself being awake before school starts.

You gradually make your way downstairs, adorning an oversized Fresh Prince of Bel-Air t-shirt and the first clean pair of jeans you see, offhandedly reminding yourself to do your laundry.

The house is forebodingly silent, you should’ve long since become accustomed to that. Still you can’t help the acrimonious look you aim toward the note sitting on your kitchen counter, rereading it for the umpteenth time before grabbing yourself some breakfast.

Had to leave town for a case, left you some money for food. Call you when I can - Love Dad

At least he left a note this time you think to yourself despondently. 

You don’t blame him for not sticking around, god knows your mom couldn’t either. But at least when she left it was for good. She didn’t resurface every few weeks and pretend to know what was going on in your life, vowing to be more present if given the chance, only to leave the next time a murder happened in some backwater town five thousand miles away from the daughter she swore to stick around for. No, that was all your dad.

You used to admire him, ironically enough. Solving murders and catching the bad guys, he used to be your hero. You and your mom used to allocate hours each day waiting zealously by the phone to hear of his adventures. In the course of time your mom got tired of waiting for your dad to call, eventually she just got tired of him in general. She got tired of you in general.

You never faulted your dad for her desertion, how could you? She left him too. Though you did follow her lead in straying from your perch aside the phone. These days it never rang anyhow.

The sharp honking of a car horn redirects your attention from your melancholic reverie, you grab your bag and set the home alarm before locking the door behind you, grateful for the excuse to be anywhere but your empty house.

“Well don’t you look like a ray of sunshine this morning?” Stu’s voice sounds from the passenger seat of Billy’s car as you smoothly slide into the back.

“What’s ‘a matter? You’re not all freaked about the killer are you?” He questions, turning his lanky body around in the seat so that he’s facing you, his wide dopey grin now on full display.

Right, the killer.

It’s the only story currently circulating on the Woodsboro news, plastered on the cover of every tabloid, not to mention it’s virtually the only thing your friends seem to talk about since it happened.

Casey Becker and her boyfriend Steve Orth were brutally murdered, their remains remorselessly strung up like Christmas ornaments. It should have made you sick to your stomach. But after all the gory photos you’d seen hanging on the cork board in your dad’s office, you couldn’t help the twisted tinge of curiosity that swirled about in your brain. Who did this? Your FBI profiler dad, who specializes in capturing people that commit violent crimes, sure picked a great time to be out of state for work.

“No, but I’m super glad that you always find a way to bring it up. Very well adjusted of you.” You retort with a gentle smile, as you buckle your seatbelt, instantly feeling better at the mere sight of your two best friends.

“Ah, come on. You know we’d never let anything happen t’you. Right, Billy?” He nudges his elbow at Billy, awaiting his agreeance.

“Course not.” Billy states, his voice is gentle but his tone is stern, and you don’t miss the indicative look he flashes Stu. What’s all that about?

“O..kay then.” You make it a point to remember that look. It’s peculiarly akin to the look he gave Stu at the fountain the other morning.

“I didn’t kill anybody” Stu abruptly defended.

“No one’s saying you did.” Billy shot Stu an ominous look of warning. 

What the hell are those two idiots hiding? 

“My knights in shining armour, truly. However could I repay you?” You deadpan sarcastically, coming to the conclusion that there is definitely something going on. You’re always right about these things. Whatever it is, you’re going to figure it out eventually.

You’ve known Billy and Stu since elementary school, they can’t hide things from you. At least Stu can’t. His facade will shatter like glass if you look up at him with big eyes and an amiable smile. Billy on the other hand, had spent copious amounts of time with you sifting through your father’s research when you were kids, which gave him the invaluable knowledge of how to get away with lying. That and his prodigious poker face.

“Well- And I’m so glad you asked, there’s actually a super easy way to do that. Wouldn’t take too long either-” You don’t even need to look at Stu to know this is another one of his empty-headed innuendos for sex.

“Wouldn’t take too long is right. At least that’s what Tate told me. You might wanna work on that.” You tease, gently squeezing his arm in mock sympathy.

Billy lets out a modest chuckle of approval at your childish rebuttal, sending you a wink in the rear-view mirror when he catches your smile growing at the sound.

You try to ignore the hastening uptick of your pulse at the simple action. He has a girlfriend, you remind yourself remorsefully, he’s your best friend and that’s all.

“Oh really? Guess we’ll just have to wait and see about that, won’t we?” Stu’s resplendent crystal eyes hold an edge of irritation, but before you can discern the connotation of it, they’re overtaken by the playful mischief you’re certain is a permanent fixture in them.

“Speaking of this whole killer business,” You swiftly steer the subject back, aware of your best friends’ infatuation with the topic, “How’s Sid holding up?”

Of all your friends, the killings had the strongest emotional impact on Sidney. When taken into account that the same thing happened to her mom almost exactly a year ago, it’s something of a wonder that she’s showing up to school at all.

Though Cotton Weary was tried and convicted for the murder of Sidney’s mother, you and your dad always shared a covert belief that somebody else was to blame. When you combed through the evidence, albeit evidence you weren’t legally allowed to see, something felt off about it all. Your dad agreed, stating as much to the local police who were less than receptive of his findings. In essence, they told him to fuck off, that they’d closed the case without the help of the FBI.

You never wavered on your belief that the true perpetrator escaped undetected, and now with the same m.o. being used to kill Casey and Steve, you’re adamant that these cases are connected. Of course you’ve kept this ideology to yourself, not wishing to dredge up any more pain for Sid, the poor girl’s already been through more than her fair share of it.

“More frigid than usual I bet. If that’s even possible.” Stu jokes incautiously.

Billy swats Stu firmly in the chest, glancing at you in the mirror again as Stu lets out a minor yelp, “She’s not so good. I tried to make her feel better, but you know how I am with that sort of stuff” he says unhurriedly.

Unfortunately I do, you think to yourself. Of all the things you love about Billy, patience and understanding are not exactly the top contenders. You imagine his version of consoling Sid ended with her feeling worse.

“At least you tried. That counts for something.” You add optimistically, already preparing to check in with Sid the first chance you get.

“I’m not sure it does,” His eyes are surveying your every feature through the rearview mirror and you’re becoming acutely aware that he’s barely spared a glance at the road since he started driving, you being the sole focus of his attention, “Not with her anyway,” He mumbles out the last part but you manage to piece it together inquisitively.

If you were thinking with your emotions instead of your intellect, you’d have picked up on the nuance of his words and the uncharacteristic benevolence of his gaze. You’d have pieced together sooner that you actually had a chance with Billy Loomis.

The trajectory of your life, the lives of your friends, could have been exponentially juxtaposed if you had only continued to prioritize your mind above your heart.

“Fuck!” Oh god, oh god, oh fuck! Not the most eloquent thoughts in the world, but they’re about all you’ve got since you caught sight of the menacing masked figure jumping onto Sidney, armed with a particularly sharp-edged blade.

You’re vehemently regretting tagging along to what was initially intended to be a girls night with Tatum and Sid. 

“Safety in numbers,” Tatum smiled impishly, tugging on your arm in that way she does when she wants something bad enough, “Besides, your dad’s gone too! You and Sid would be much safer at my place.” She brought up a valid point. Although you weren’t as unnerved as your friends at the prospect of being murdered, your strong distaste for spending another night alone in your house was enough for you to give in to your friend’s wishes.

“Alright. I’ll come. But no cheesy rom-coms, we’re watching Seven.” You conceded sooner than Tatum expected. She had a whole speech about the sanctity of friendship planned, but she intended to save it for another time.

“You’ll have to convince Sid. You know how she feels about horror movies.”

“I also know how she feels about Brad Pitt,” You teased with a grin, earning an emphatic giggle from Tatum, “Besides, it’s a thriller not a horror. Randy would die just to roll over in his grave if he heard you right now.”

The plan was to go back to your houses separately and grab your things, Tatum would pick you each up on her way home from practice. The plan changed after you observed Sidney throughout the day. You could tell she was jittery and nervous, despite her fruitless attempts at covering it up, so you went straight to her house together after school. 

The two of you briskly passed out on opposite ends of the couch, only awoken by the piercing ring of Sid’s telephone. “Tate’s gonna be a while, she got held up at practice.” Sid relayed the message to you, gingerly rubbing the evidence of sleep from her eyes.

You nodded in understanding, moving from your previous position on the couch and deftly stretching the tender muscles in your back.

“I’m gonna grab a glass of water. You want anything?” You asked Sid as the phone resumed ringing, she shook her head no with a comfortable smile and answered the call as you walked toward the kitchen and out of ear shot.

You moved around the kitchen with an air of familiarity, taking your time filling the glass. Your walk back to Sidney turned into a swift jog, confusion and mild alarm made their presence known on your face as you heard her yell “Fuck you, cretin!” into the phone with conviction.

“Sid- Hey, what’s going on?” You moved to comfort her frenzied form, taking over for her shaking hands you swiftly locked the chain on her front door.

“The killer- He… Oh my god!” Her frenetic speech died a merciless death on her lips as she heard the door of her hall closet swing open. Before either of you could register what was happening, the killer was on top of her.

“Fuck!” Sid yelps, flailing wildly in a desperate attempt to escape from the masked lunatic’s grip.

You froze for a moment back there, you aren’t proud of it. All the self-defence lessons and step-by-step protocols for how to survive in a dangerous situation seemed to have vanished from your mind. But now you can hear his voice in your head, stern but compassionately reassuring like it always was, “C’mon (y/n), this is life or death. As much as I wish I could, I can’t always be here with a gun and a vest to protect you. So come on, how are you gonna fight back?” You used to hate it when he did that. Why should a girl your age worry about those things?

Thanks Dad, you silently praise, guess you make the time we spend together count.

You snap out of it instantaneously, bringing down your half-empty glass of water over the killer’s head with considerable force, shattering it to pieces and stunning him long enough for you to send a brutal kick to his side, temporarily removing his looming figure from atop Sidney. You suppress a wince as you notice one particularly long shard of glass has embedded itself deeply into your palm, blood trickling evenly from the gash as you gingerly remove it.

You waste no time grabbing Sidney from the floor, pulling her along with haste as you reach the staircase and begin your ascent. “Wait- The front door is-” She starts before you cut her off, “It’s locked Sid. We don’t have time, he’s right behind us.” She turns to gage the distance and her eyes widen substantially as she sees just how correct you are. He’s right there.

In a matter of nanoseconds the killer grabs ahold of Sidney’s foot, giving it a solid tug. Her hand slips from yours as he drags her down the steps.

“Anything can be used as a weapon, especially when you combine it with the element of surprise.” Your dad’s voice rings through your ears once more as you stormily grab hold of a bulky framed painting from the wall and smash it down onto the killer’s head. He groans and trips back a half-step, just enough distance for you to pull Sidney back up, taking care to hold on extra tightly as you resume your course to her bedroom.

Hightailing it to her room, the two of you close the door behind you, Sidney rushing to alert the police as you make a half-assed attempt to barricade the door shut, working at warp-speed.

The door jolts violently behind you as the killer manages to squeeze his arm through, prompting Sid to bellow out a short scream of terror. You push back on the door with all your body weight, a triumphant smile fighting its way to the surface as you hear the vociferous groan of pain emitting from your pursuer. He pulls his arm back with haste, allowing the door to shut fully behind you.

It’s agonizingly silent. What’s he going to do now? He’s much stronger than you or Sidney, surely he could break down the door. Or stab it with his knife, stab you with his knife. You’re eagerly awaiting his next move. Sid, on the other hand, needs this to be the end of it. She manages to contact the police through her computer, and you can’t deny the pride you feel for her, carrying on despite the clearcut terror she’s just experienced.

You both turn toward the window on high alert, a noise informing you that you’re not alone. You grab the first thing within your reach, Sidney’s hairbrush, and hurl it with impressive force at the figure entering her bedroom. 

“Ow! Jesus (y/n)! What the hell’s goin’ on? I heard Sid screaming. The door was locked. Are you guys okay?” Billy questions, pulling himself through the window once he recovers from the hairbrush hit to his temple.

I heard Sid screaming.

How did he know it was Sid who screamed? And what exactly was he doing here anyway? 

No, you cut yourself off, there’s no way! It’s Billy, he wouldn’t…

Would he?

When you and your dad made the profile for Maureen’s killer, you determined that it had to be a young adult male between the ages of 16 to 24. You also theorized that he had to know Maureen, the level of rage present in her killing was too personal for a stranger to carry out. Your dad threw around the idea that maybe there were two killers, one with a hunger to be in control, the other just along for the thrill of the hunt. 

You remember the day you brought the profile up to Billy and Stu.

The three of you were watching some cheesy 80s slasher in Stu’s spacious living room, Stu’s arm around your waist as your head gently laid on Billy’s shoulder.

“My dad agrees with me you know?” You start, voice overtaking the synthetic screams of whichever big-breasted actress was getting slaughtered on screen, “That it wasn’t Cotton Weary. He actually thinks there were two of ‘em.” Billy and Stu both tense up, causing you to observe them from the corner of your eye.

There was a brief look of alarm on Stu’s face causing your eyebrows to furrow together in confusion. Perhaps you should have kept your reaction subdued, as Billy picked up on it instantaneously. He delicately grabbed ahold of your chin, the pads of his fingertips setting your skin ablaze beneath them, turning your face to his he muttered coldly, “Since when do you care what that asshole thinks?” 

Your gaze dropped from his, a frown taking over your lips. He’s right, in a way, but he doesn’t have to say it like that.

“Hey, come on Sunshine, turn that frown upside down, huh?” Stu was his usual sanguine self again in the blink of an eye, that beautiful broad grin already back in its rightful place on his lips, “Who needs him anyway? You got us.”

“Yeah,” You smiled back despite yourself, “Guess that makes me pretty lucky.”

For someone who loves talking about murder so much, he always manages to brazenly shut it down whenever you bring up the profile. The profile that he fits.

How did you never see it before?

“Sid,” You start slowly, taking a gentle step toward the girl who’s wrapped in her boyfriend’s embrace. You’re attempting this with the utmost care so as not to alarm Billy, in case he’s hiding the familiar blade on his person, “This cut on my hand is pretty deep,” It’s true, though you couldn’t care less about it, “Can you come help me with it, please.”

Shit.

Your voice broke on the last syllable and you’re definitive that he noticed.

Billy turns to you with a look of confusion, it’s almost as though he can read your mind. “Your hand?” He questions, not releasing Sid from his grip, “What happened to your hand?” He seems genuinely concerned and you’re beginning to doubt your own instincts. Until Sid pulls away from his grip, a soft thump resounding as something falls from Billy’s pocket.

A mobile phone. 

The kind of mobile phone a killer would have if he had just made a menacing, life-threatening phone call to his girlfriend.

Why did you have to be right?

Six minutes and fifty-two seconds. You don’t time it, but that’s how long it takes for you to change into your pyjamas, or in this case one of Dewey’s old t-shirts that less than flatteringly falls below your knees in an Ebenezer Scrooge sort of way, and get situated beside Tatum in one of her twin beds.

Despite the cataclysmic series of events you’ve just been through, you manage a loose smile as you watch Sidney ice her hand after landing a particularly impressive punch on Gale Weathers’ face. 

“The pain’s gonna fade in the morning but the pride’ll last. At least mine will, you’re kinda badass, Prescott.” You jest, attempting to quell the foreboding thoughts you’re sure are threatening to chew her up and swallow her whole.

“Ditto,” She motions to your injured hand, all bandaged up thanks to Dewey’s gentle insistence, “I’m sorry it happened, you shouldn’t have gotten hurt saving me.” She concludes, ever the saint.

“Sid, no. Okay? None of that should have happened in the first place.” And I should have seen it coming. You keep that one to yourself.

“Do you really think Billy did it?” Tatum questions from beside you.

“He was there, Tatum.” Sidney replies solemnly.

You zone out of the conversation, even after Sidney leaves the room. You can’t stop thinking about the look Billy gave you as they pushed him into the back of the police car. He was desperate, that much was obvious, but there was something else there too, it was almost like he was heartbroken.

Why would he look at you like that?

Maybe he was upset that you figured him out before he had the chance to gut you like a fish. Maybe it was because he knew Sid would never speak to him again.

Or maybe it was because he couldn’t fathom you believing this about him, you ponder remorsefully, maybe he was innocent.

You’re on edge, anyone with a functioning pair of eyes can see that. But it’s not for the reasons they’d think. You’re not scared of some masked psycho reaching out and slicing your throat. You’re perturbed at all of the eyes that are drawn to you like moths to a flame. 

You’d had enough of it before the first period bell even rang.

“How does it feel to be almost murdered?” An immensely insensitive reporter shouted, hovering the microphone unreasonably close to Sid’s face, onlookers gathered around you, awaiting her response with bated breath, “Keep holding that thing in her face and I’ll be happy to ask you the same question.” You threatened half-heartedly, gently maneuvering Sid and yourself through the crowd.

“Hey pretty lady,” Stu’s congenial voice sounds from behind you, firmly knocking this morning’s unpleasant memory from your cranium. He wraps his gangly arms around your middle and bends down a farcical distance to rest his chin upon your shoulder, “Star in any good horror movies lately?” He questions, letting out a chortle at his own words.

“You’re a really emotionally intelligent guy Stu. Anybody ever tell you that?” Your acerbic undertone isn’t lost on him for once as he registers your discomfort.

“Hey- That was- You know I’m just joking, I’m sorry.”

“I know you’re joking, you’re just not very funny.” 

Removing his hands from your body, too soon for your liking, you think, he throws himself dramatically against a row of lockers, hands on his heart as he groans in mock agony, “Take it back! Please, take it back!” 

He’s an idiot.

An idiot with perfectly carved dimples and the bluest eyes you’ve ever seen. And you want so desperately not to give in to his theatrics, but you can’t help it, not when those eyes are shining at you like the cascading glimmer of the moonlight. You’re smiling before you can stop yourself.

“Ahhh, there it is,” Stu’s voice still holds that ever-present joking tone, but his eyes are sincere, like he’s desperate for you to pick up on the emotion hiding beneath it all, “Can’t live without that smile. ‘M never gonna let you go.”

Your heartbeat rapidly increases in pace and you all but force yourself to look anywhere but his imprudently handsome face. Stop that, you internalize, best friends, nothing more.

“(y/n), hey. Can I talk to you for a sec?” You don’t need to redirect your gaze to pinpoint the source of the voice.

It’s Billy.

“See ya later, Sunshine.” Stu bids you farewell, placing a gentle lingering kiss on the apple of your cheek.

“I have to get to class.” You turn to walk from Billy, not in the mood to hear whatever tales of deception he’s concocted in the confines of his imagination.

“Just-” He reaches out for your arm, stopping dead in his tracks when you flinch away from his touch, “Give me ten minutes okay? If you hate me after that, then I’ll leave you alone for good.” The sorrow in his voice is enough to keep your feet firmly planted.

“You’ve got,” You spare a quick glimpse at the clock on the wall, mentally calculating how long it’ll be before you’re late to AP Chemistry, “Six minutes and fifty-two seconds. Take it or leave it.”

“Yeah, I’ll take it.” He attempts a smile but it falls faster than it formed.

“I’m not an idiot Billy. Or- Or maybe I am, because I didn’t see it sooner, but-”

“Don’t do that,” His voice resembles a whisper, his eyes are pleading but there’s also an edge in them that makes the hair stand up on the back of your neck, “Don’t- You know me, right? We’ve been friends since we were kids. Look at me,” His fingers reach out for you, a near imperceptible smile twitching at the sides of his mouth when you don’t immediately recoil, “You know me. I’d never do anything to hurt you.” 

You know in your mind that there’s no reasonable explanation for how it all adds up. He fits the profile. But in your heart, you know he’s telling you the truth. The look in his eyes confirms his words, he wouldn’t hurt you.

Against your better judgement you lean into his touch, his hand finds its way to your cheek, drawing indistinguishable circles above your zygomatic bone with his thumb.

“What about Sid? Have you talked to her?” You feel his body tense up, though he does a good job of keeping his emotions unreadable.

“Yeah. We talked.”

“And?”

“And,” He breathes agitatedly, “We broke up.”

“You what? Well- Are you okay? Is she okay? Oh god, I should go find her.” You softly attempt to maneuver from his grip but his hold tightens slightly.

“She’s the one who dumped me, so I’m sure she’s fine.” 

“Does she still think-?”

“No. No, she knows I didn’t do it. But I guess it just wasn’t working out.” If he’s lying, he should make a career out of it. You’re studying every inch of his captivatingly handsome face, and you can’t find a hint of misrepresentation.

“It’s for the best really,” His honeyed gaze settles on your own eyes, your breath hitching noticeably as you take in their mahogany-toned opulence, “Otherwise I couldn’t do this.” His lips are on your own without a moments hesitation.

You know the only intelligent response is to pull away and race to AP Chem, pretending like it never happened. But today you’re letting your heart think for you. And it feels precariously marvellous. You kiss him back with more passion than you knew you were capable of mustering, the years of feelings you’ve hidden away, even from yourself, come spilling out from your lips and land delectably onto his.

Billy moves his unoccupied hand into your hair, giving it a gentle tug, expertly sliding his tongue into your mouth the moment your lips part to release a gentle moan. If this is what it feels like to prioritize your heart above your mind, you’re not entirely confident you’ll ever use your brain again.

The vociferous ringing of the warning bell unwillingly splits the two of you apart, though his forehead still rests contentedly against your own.

“You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting to do that, Doll.” His eyes are looking at you with a plethora of unknown emotions and your heart is beating far too fast for you to decipher them.

“Worth the wait?” You question softly.

“Absolutely. Glad the wait’s almost over though.”

The wait’s almost over.

Maybe it was the warning bell, or your AP Chem teacher’s disdain for tardiness, or your ever-hastening heartbeat and affections for a certain brown-eyed boy, but you missed it.

The one and only slip-up he made all day and you were too lovestruck to notice.

Those six minutes and fifty-two seconds would cost you big time.

“Ahh, there’s my Sunshine. Perfect timing!” Stu swings a lanky arm over your shoulders as you catch up to him in the school parking lot. “I just finished spreading the good news,” He states with a cheeky grin, as if you should have any idea what he’s referring to.

“Oh, well are congratulations in order then? How far along are you?” You press a teasing hand to his stomach, grin growing as he sticks his tongue out at you, moving his hands to your sides and giving you a short tickle.

“Oh, ha-ha. She’s a real comedian today, huh?” He narrows his eyes in jest, “I’m talkin’ about the crazy killer get outta school free bash I’m throwin’ tonight. You’re coming of course,” He tells you rather than asks you, though you’ve never had much luck saying no to Stu.

“Another one of your million dollar ideas I presume? ‘Cause there’s nothing totally birdbrained about throwing a curfew-breaking rager with a masked psycho killer on the loose.” You’re not keen on the idea of showing up to some party with everything that’s been happening, not to mention what Sid must think of it all.

Not that you have a right to act all sanctimonious when it comes to Sidney’s feelings, her relationship with Billy was barely over before you had your tongue down his throat.

“Come on, Sunshine, it’ll all mean nothing without you there.” 

It’ll all mean nothing.

“What’ll mean nothing?” You question gently, careful to hide the inquisitive edge to your query.

Stu’s eyes widen sizeably as he clears his throat, “Just- Nothing. You’re- You’re coming right?”

After that? You’re definitely going. Tonight you’re figuring out once and for all what this boy’s been hiding from you.

You tried to stay away from Billy, honestly. But the second his eyes met yours in Stu’s living room, you knew it was a futile attempt.

The two of you expeditiously wandered upstairs into one of the many vacant bedrooms available in the Macher house, barely closing the door behind you before your lips were melding together.

“I haven’t been able to stop thinking about this all day,” Billy hums against your lips, placing another searing kiss there before moving his way down to your neck. 

Engaging in a moment of passion at a party while an unidentified serial killer roams on the loose may not have been your finest moment but, unintelligently, that was the furthest thing from your mind. Billy’s hands were now sliding delectably slowly underneath the hem of your shirt as his lips continued their pursuit on your neck, that was the sole occupant of your thoughts.

At least it was, until you saw him.

Before you could verbalize the killer’s sudden materialization to Billy, it was too late.

The masked figure hastily removed Billy from your grip, his cold steely blade acrimoniously slashing Billy with ease, ostensibly the knife was even sharper than it looked. Billy’s blood splattered onto your face and you made the split second decision that, this time, a glass of water and a painting weren’t going to protect you.

“(y/n), I need you to remember this part, okay? No matter how scared or tired or hopeless you feel, if you can run, you run! Alright?” You’d heard your dad’s voice more in your head these past few days than you had out loud in months, but at that moment you were simply grateful you’d ever heard it at all.

You didn’t chance a single look behind you, expertly weaving your way through Stu’s house and out the back door. You didn’t glance back even after you’d escaped the house and almost crossed the property line.

Where did all the cars go?

If there were any other choice, you wouldn’t have ran back into the house. But your friends were nowhere to be found and, peculiarly, neither was the killer.

If he was out there looking for you, surely he’d never expect you to go back inside. All you had to do was reach the phone in the kitchen and call 911. The last sight you were prepared to see was the killer’s masked face parallel to your own.

“Well... How do ya like our big reveal, Sunshine?” Stu grins wickedly from behind Sidney.

The deep crimson remnants of the scene you thought you’d witnessed are still making their way down your face, trickling along your tepid skin like raindrops on a car window. You wipe them away fervently, the whirlwind of emotions swirling within you becoming more than you can bear.

It’s not even real blood.

“What is this?” You utter nauseously, gesturing to the foreign substance coating your face.

It’s probably the least important question you could be asking right now but you’ll admit the two of them have put on quite the performance. You’re sickened, but you’re curious.

Billy removes his mask, stepping closer to you and wiping a drop of the mystery liquid from your cheek, ignoring the way you flinch at his touch and placing the finger onto his tongue he lets out a low hum of approval, “’S’Corn syrup, Doll. Same stuff they used for pig’s blood in Carrie.”

Jesus.

Sid freed herself from Stu’s grip, him and Billy now distractedly gazing at you with distinguishable looks of pride. You gesture your head near-imperceptibly toward the entryway, a silent request for her to run while she has the chance. She hesitates, clearly apprehensive about leaving you to fend for yourself with two armed maniacs, but you need her to go. You can attempt your own escape when you know she’s safe.

“You had me fooled,” You start in a desperate effort to maintain their attention, “I mean, I had my doubts- But that whole fake death scene upstairs? You guys really sold it.” Sid discreetly makes her way to the entryway, stopping to look at you with a final questioning look on her weary face. 

Nodding your head near invisibly, you make the devastating mistake of sweeping your eyes over her frame to survey her injuries. It was quick, a nanosecond at most before your gaze was back in front of you, but it wasn’t quick enough to go unnoticed by Billy, who grabs ahold of his knife and has it pointed against Sid’s throat in a matter of seconds. 

Billy and Stu launch into a certifiably demented rant, their words exploding on Sidney in a particularly violent manner.

Why would they have it out for Sid specifically?

Oh.

Billy turns toward you and ends his dialogue without warning when he recognizes the look of understanding on your features.

“You killed her,” You breathe a near sigh of relief, finally understanding the bigger picture, “You killed Maureen and you’ve spent the last- Who fucking knows how long you’ve spent, just planning this- All to torture Sid.” It’s all making so much fucking sense and you can’t believe the amount of time it’s taken you to piece it all together, “You killed Casey Becker too, ‘cause she sits next to Sid in English. You knew she’d see that empty seat every day and be reminded of her mom. Psychological warfare…” 

Billy looks uncharacteristically proud watching you piece it all together, “Got it in one, (y/n).” 

“You’re- You’re sick! Why? Why the fuck would you do that?” Sidney struggles in Billy’s hold as he explains his motive behind her mother’s murder.

Mommy issues. Figures you’d have that in common.

Stu looks outwardly surprised at Billy’s reveal, indirectly confirming your dad’s two person theory. One killer with a personal connection to the victim and the other just in it for the thrill of the hunt. Dad’s gonna be so pissed he missed this, you regard inwardly.

“How are you gonna do it then?” You question the two unjustly handsome lunatics.

“Do what, Sweetheart?” Billy asks benevolently from beside Sid, still holding the tip of his blade to her neck.

“How are you gonna kill me?” You probe.

The question is a test. You’ve got a theory that they didn’t plan far enough ahead to remember that your dad will hunt them down to the ends of the earth after you die, especially since they haven’t seemed particularly keen on covering their trail. If you figured them out this quickly, your dad would have them behind bars in no time.

“What?” Billy asks, all previous traces of jubilance promptly removed from his face.

“How are you going to kill me?” You repeat tauntingly, if your best friends since elementary school were going to kill you like it was nothing, you were going to enjoy the thought of them spending the rest of their lives in florescent orange jumpsuits, “Spare me the gory details but, you do know what FBI stands for, right? Good luck getting away with it this time.” Thankfully, your voice manages to come out far more confident than you’re feeling inside.

Stu moves from beside you to in front of you, gently placing his sizeable hands on either side of your face. Has he always been this tall? Craning your neck to look up at him, the smug smile you managed to plaster on slides off and morphs into confusion as you notice the doleful look on his face. Why is he looking at you like you just kicked his puppy?

“You can’t really believe that,” His voice is so gentle, you could almost forget the sheer lunacy that was dripping from it moments ago, “What did I tell you, Sunshine? I’m never gonna let you go.” He’s looking at your lips like he wants to kiss them, and if you were under any other circumstance, there’d be nothing to keep you from it. He leans in and you almost move to do the same before you hear Sidney’s panicked voice calling out.

“Leave her alone! Please. If you want to kill me then fucking do it already, just let (y/n) go!”

Right, this is an active hostage situation.

Stu let his guard down to console you. Both of his hands on your head means he’s no longer holding the gun, but there’s no easy way to go about gaining control of it. You could kick him in the shins and hope he stays distracted long enough, but your dad’s voice runs through your mind once again, “You can’t reason with a psychopath (y/n), but sometimes you can play along with their fantasy to gain their trust.” You know this isn’t what he had in mind, but you’re running out of options.

Before you can talk yourself out of it, you lean up on your toes and kiss Stu with fervour. It’s a good kiss, one of the best you’ve ever had, in fact. There’s a moment, just a split second while you’re reaching for the gun behind his back, that you wish it was for real. He pulls you in deeper and you try to convince yourself that you’re only kissing back to make it believable.

Finally you feel the cool metallic handle of the gun, gripping onto it firmly you muster up the strength to pull back from Stu’s embrace. Aiming the barrel between him and Billy, you can almost feel your heart crack at the look of betrayal painted upon Stu’s face.

No, you remind yourself sternly, they kill people. For fun. They’re not your best friends anymore, they’re murderers.

“Let her go.” You ignore the internal war waging between your heart and your mind.

“(y/n)…” Billy’s not as shocked as Stu. As a matter of fact, Billy’s not shocked at all. He knows you, almost better than you know yourself, “Put the gun down. You’re not gonna shoot us.” His voice is stern, his words a cross between a warning and a command.

He’s right, as usual. The one thing your dad could never get you to do was shoot a gun. You fucking hate those things.

“You’re right, I’m not gonna shoot you,” Your voice is even, but you know he picks up on the slight shake of your hands as you aim the gun toward his chest, “As long as you let her go.”

“That’s not gonna happen, Doll.” He shakes his head, frustration rapidly becoming anger “I’m not asking you again (y/n). Put it down. Now.”

“Or what?” You bluff in a last ditch attempt to maintain a facade of bravery.

Billy’s anger finally reaches its boiling point and he answers your question wordlessly.

It’s different than it looks in the movies. The blood doesn’t trickle out slowly and melodramatically. It spews out like a faucet and it never stops.

You drop the gun after that, rushing to sit at Sid’s side on the floor in a futile attempt to stop the bleeding. It was a single deep slash, clean across her throat. The quiet gurgling sounds of blood filling her lungs finally subside after her last breath sounds, and your crimson stained hands remove themselves from her neck.

“Now, are you gonna start listening to me? Or do I have to do somethin’ like that again?”

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” You know what’s wrong with him, with both of them. They’re psychopaths. But you can’t prevent the question from slipping past your lips, you’re desperate for some understanding as to what exactly is it is they intend to gain from their whole plan.

“What’s wrong with me? I told you to put the fuckin’ thing down!” Billy’s still angry, what’s new?  “Shit! That’s not how it was supposed to go.” His agitation fading slightly into discontent. Clearly he wanted to take his time killing Sid. At least you spared her some suffering.

“We gotta get out of here Billy. It’s only a matter of time before the cops show up.” Stu’s voice sounds, entirely indifferent to the scene he just witnessed.

“Yeah. Yeah, you’re right,” Billy runs his left hand through his hair in a gesture of frustration, his right hand latched firmly on the gun you dropped after he slit Sidney’s throat, “Shit! Alright, let’s go.” He gestures his head to the door, his eyes haven’t left you since your little standoff, making it clear that he’s talking to you.

“What?” Your voice is laced with perplexion. He can’t seriously expect you to walk out of there with them.

Right?

“C’mon, Sunshine. You already got him in a mood, don’t make it any worse.” Stu’s voice holds that ever present hint of amusement, as if this is just like old times, when you and Stu would make one too many jokes at Billy’s expense and he’d spend the rest of the day sulking.

“I’m not- You can’t actually think I’m going anywhere with you,” You chuckle in disbelief, “You just killed my best friends!” You don’t have explicit confirmation that Randy and Tatum are dead too, but considering the current state of affairs, it’s reasonably obvious.

“We’re your best friends, (y/n). We’re more than that, actually.” Billy kneels down in front of you on the kitchen floor. His anger has finally subsided, he’s speaking in a normal tone, the sticky crimson remnants on your hands serve as the only reminder of his previous outburst.

“That was before-”

“Oh come on, Doll,” He cuts you off, calloused fingers wiping the excess corn syrup from your face, “You ever wonder why the daughter of an FBI profiler couldn’t figure out there was something off with us?” His grin is wicked but his touch is gentle, almost comforting, “It’s ‘cause you didn’t want to see it. You didn’t want anything to get between us, because you feel the same way about us that we do about you.”

You want to tell him to fuck off. That he’s crazy and you have no idea what he’s talking about. But you can’t. Because he’s right, he’s right and he knows it.

Taking your silence as confirmation he continues, delicately tracing your cheek with his nimble fingers, “You love us,” Stu makes his way to your side, smiling with dimples on full display as Billy speaks, “And you can try and deny it, if you want to. But we all know the truth.”

“So what if I did?” You finally find your voice, it’s shakier than you’d like but it’s there, “If you know me as well as you think you do, then you know there’s no way in hell I’d go anywhere with you after this.”

“You wanna know how well I know you?” Billy’s voice is sharp, bitter, you’re getting under his skin again, “I know you, (y/n). I know you’re not afraid of masked killers, or watching your friend die,” He releases you from his grip, standing back to his full height as his words permeate your brain, “I know your worst fear.” He gestures for Stu to follow as he takes small leisurely steps toward the doorway, ignoring the look of confusion and panic on Stu’s face at the prospect of leaving there without you.

Stu reluctantly follows Billy toward the exit, not removing his eyes from your enervated form. When they finally reach the doorway Billy resumes his speech, a contemptuous tone lacing his voice, “Being left here all alone.” He says simply.

This is your own fault, really. Allowing someone to get so close to you, learn everything about you, use everything they’ve learned against you.

You could argue that he’s wrong, but he’s not.

You could go out fighting, but you don’t.

You could stay sitting on the floor until the police inevitably discover you, but you won’t.

Billy walks back over to you, offering you a hand with a mischievous glint present in his eyes, “So,” He starts devilishly, “What’s it gonna be, Doll?”

hey qween! can you right some more billy fics?

I loved ur last one <33

"Dessert"

a/n: YES, ngl my scream era resurfaced and now I want Billy and Stu inside me again, literally.

notes: not proofread bc I was a horn dog, i want billy nowww!

warning: smut, creampies, reader just had a sweet tooth, vaginal sex, p in the v, kitchen sex, no protection just hit it raw (don't follow this advice) reader is innocent, make-outs, Billy being such a pervert :(,

pairing: Innocent reader x Billy Loomis

word counter: 1.6k

You were craving something sweet, nearer something to satisfy your taste buds. You didn't know what it was. Laying down on your back on your bed. But you were bored and nobody was home so you had the place to yourself.

You wondered if your boyfriend would want to join in too, you looked at the phone on your bedside table before debating it, then you took the phone handle and dialed his number in, laying down on the frame of your bed, playing the long cord.

Hearing it ring out before you heard his voice. "Billy?" you said his name, it was easy to say off of your tough, "Yes, Y/N?" He responded to me, as you rubbed your legs together feeling erratic to his voice, "Come to my house, my parents aren't here at all..so we can hang out, you know" you trailed off mumbling, feeling anxious as you played with the phone cord.

You heard his voice chuckling, making you shiver to your core. "I'll be there at 7" You held the phone close to you. Before You heard him hang up the phone, putting the phone down. Feeling something in your lower core throb, you didn't know the feeling at all. The weird throb made you feel weird, rubbing your legs together, you bit my lip. Getting up from your bed, you went into your closet, taking something out. It was a pink translucent skirt and top with a ribbon on the chest, Stu bought it for you for your birthday when you went shopping. It was weird for him to buy something so revealing for you when you weren't his girlfriend in the first place, wasn't he with Tatum.

You stripped all your clothes off being left with only your panties, before wearing the pink material on. Looking into the mirror it was only your panties showing, turning around as you looked. Fluffing the pink skirt up. It was short, really short that it showed the curves of your ass. Would this be a good outfit for him?

Closing the door to my door, before you walked down the stairs to the kitchen, took out the supplies onto the counter, stood up my toes got the bowls and whisk from it, and placed it down. Hearing the doorbell ring, as you walked to the door, seeing Billy outside, opening the door and letting him in. "Hey Billy" you smiled at him, "Woah, what are you wearing" Before he took my hand and spun me around, you tried to hide the smile on my face. His face had a smirk on it.

"So, I was just going to make some desserts, I forgot to mention it on call, but wanna join?" you smiled. "Hell yeah" You giggled at his excited expression.

Taking ahold of his hand, before you took him to the kitchen. Feeling his eyes on you with the revealing outfit, you didn't hate it but it made you feel weird in-between your legs. Everything was out on the table before you guys began making the sweet treat, adding flour, butter, salt, and some water into a bowl, and mixing it up. You felt Billy's hand on your waist, his head resting on your shoulders, as mixed the dry ingredients, "Whatcha making" He hummed, "A creampie" You answered back, before taking the pie dish and squishing the dough in the crust.

"A creampie?" He questioned, "Yeah, I been craving one today" You flickered between your boyfriend and what your hands were doing, "Why would you wanna make one when I can give it to you myself" He whispered in my ear, making my face feel hot.

"Billy, stop being so dirty" Your face was flushed from his comment, "Alright, alright.. you are so easy to embarrass" he chuckled, "You can at least help. me with getting me some measurements from the drawer" You said, "Coming right up".

You knew Billy made some infamous dirty comment in your guy's relationship, but never really tested it out. You weren't clueless about what he said, it was just that you never did it.

"Shit.." you forgot to bring out the mixer, turning to the side where the cabinet was, it was higher than you thought. Standing on your tippy toes, trying to get it. Before feeling something touching your ass, turning your eyes to Billy that was dangerously close to you, feeling something pointy touching your lower region. You felt your heart beating faster before he said something "You need help?" He said, "Yeah, the mixer up top," You said. As a few painful seconds passed by, before he got it, giving it to you.

"Thank you," you said, before getting right back to my post. My face was still feeling hot like my lower region, trying to ignore it. Cracking some eggs, measurements of sugar, milk, butter, salt, and some vanilla into the bowl, mixing it with the mixer until it was fluffy and looked like whipped cream. You were satisfied with how it looked so far, hearing Billy's footsteps. As he tasted the filling of the pie crust, "You were outside yourself Y/N, it's good" He said, "Well you can't eat the whole thing, I need for the pie" You grumbled.

Scooping the white cream into the pie crust and smoothing it out, topping it with some bananas, and putting it into the fridge to cool down. Before you looked at the mess before you. "Oh gosh," you mumble. You felt some creeping behind you, Billy holding your waist, you didn't know what was up with him today. Turning your head up to him confused, "What happen?" came out of your lips.

"You thought you could wear something that revealing just for me not to touch you at all" you felt his head on the crook of your neck, planting kisses, as his words were muffed but audible.

The small gesture made little high-pitched moans come out of your lips, "Forgot you were a little virgin, Y/N" You felt his hands touching everywhere on your body, as he started marking you with kisses. His hands right hand gets dangerously close to the hems on your skirt and his left to your breast.

"Who bought you this?" He asked, "Stu" you blankly replied, "Of course, it's that fucker" You heard him mutter under his voice before he pull off your top with a fast motion. Your breast spilling out of the top, "Billy–" You were cut off by him playing with your nipple, moans coming out of your mouth. Feeling your lower region burning from not getting attention, his hands creeping under your skirt.

Putting his fingers inside you making you gasp from the intrusive. "Haah~" you moaned out, as he kept on playing your body. You didn't know this outfit would drive him crazy at all.

You leaned and looked away from what he was doing to your body, you liked how he was playing with you but it was embarrassing.

"Billy" you whined, "What is it?" he asked.

"It feels weird" you gestured with your eyes to your cunt, feeling him pulling his fingers making you whine. "Billy–" you whined, his hands were bending you forward against the counter where your breast pressed against the cold counter, making you jolt. Hearing the jingling of his belt behind you, as you glanced behind you saw his dick. It was big, you were getting nervous if you could have that thing inside you.

Turning around quickly, you were desperate for any relief, his hands on your waist. As he lined up to your dripping cunt before he thrust into you making you jolt up, biting your lip from the pain. His dick felt like it was hitting every place that you didn't know existed. The pain slowly turned into pure pleasure as his hips jacked hammer with yours.

You were getting needy, your moans spilling out as he collided with your hips. Putting your hands into fists on the table feeling your cunt getting abused by him. Feeling him edging to your cervix, feeling something bubbling inside you.

Before he stopped, your face was already flushed and begging for more, "Lean your back on the counter" feeling him lifting you to the counter, your back being met with cold tile. "You ready, princess" He whispered to your ear leaning against you. Before he started the pace, feeling him in different parts of you, moaning out in pleasure.

You wanted to kiss him, flickering your eyes up and he kept thrusting into you like a madman, "Billy..kiss please" you whispered, looking up at him. Your face was heated, your lips were already red, and you looked like you were in sort of heat. It made Billy have a smirk on his face, as he kissed you, you wrapped your arms around his neck, sharing a messy kiss. He forced his tongue, as he explored your mouth, hitting the lower part of your lip, making you moan to him, before he withdrew.

You looked like a mess under him. Feeling something hot coming in between your legs, feeling something liquid coming out of you, "Holy shit, I didn't you knew you were squirter" Billy chuckled, which only made you more embarrassed as you looked away.

His dick still hitting your cervix making you orgasm again, moans erupting from your throat. Feeling Billy's pace getting slow and sloppy, before feeling hot ropes of cum coming into you, his pelvis pressed yours as he released into his loads. His dick getting softer inside you.

"Billy, did you just cum inside of me" you panic, looking down at the mess between your legs, His breathing was heavy as he kissed you again, "You won't get pregnant the first time, besides ill get you the pill, besides I wasn't lying when I said I was going to give you a creampie" he smirked.

You were tired, and probably weren't going to eat that creampie anytime soon, feeling him taking out himself from your cunt made you whine from the warmth that was gone.

"Let me get you cleaned up.."

so I needddddd a randy meeks x reader where Randy records reader when they fuck and billy or stu is at his house and finds the tapes the rest is up to you pls and thank you—🧸🫧

``💿📷

n.o.t.e.s - There should be more randy fics tbh. Lowkey, thank you for requesting this. 💗 Im fully going to open requests next week <3

w.a.r.n - unprotected sex, penetration, p in the v, sex tape, dub-con, oral sex (m receiving), Randy is a virgin.

p.a.i.r.i.n.g - Randy Meeks x fem!reader

w.c. - 1.3k

"Randy~" you whined, laying down on his bed wearing nothing but his oversized shirt and your f/c panties. You tilted your head to the side as he approached you.

"What?" he muttered under his breath, going back to searching for a movie to watch in his drawer. "Im bored" You turned our body to him and slightly got up from his bed.

He made a victory noise as he grabbed ahold of two horror movies in his hand, shaking them to you. "Hellraiser or Carrie," he smiled before opening the DVD player.

"What about..Body double?" you said, holding it up.

"That's basically porn in a movie," Randy said, turning to you. "I know, I just want to watch something that eventful, you know." you pointed at him. Randy cocked his eyebrows at you.

"What about..Sleepaway camp?"

"Let's do something better" You got up from the bed, slowly massaging his shoulder, kissing his neck, and pressing your bare chest on his back.

"Instead of watching it, let's record it," you whispered to his ear before you lowered your hands toward his crotch.

"What are you doing, Y/N" he steps and turns around to look at you, "just being entertain, besides what the harm I'm in that" you cocked your head at him, teasing him.

"I have to stay a virgin, people who have sex always die in the end" Randy exclaimed at you, "really, but what if" you walked up near him, lifting your shirt and throwing it on the floor, "Nobody has to know, we can record our little horror movie, while you fuc my guts" you whispered to him.

His face turning brightly red, before accident looking at your cheat, before he look away covering his eyes.

"What the hell, Y/N" he yelled,

"Come on, Randy your acting like you never seen me naked before" you sighed, "besides you can't be a virgin forever, ran~" you whispered, slowly kissing his neck and gently biting his ear.

You glanced down at his pant, seeing that your attempts were working, "your hard" you said, gently taking his face.

His face is still red, "Come on, babe" you said, looking at him while battering your eyelashes. Randy didn't think of losing his virginity he would lose it to you, he muttered a yes under his breath.

"You'll never forget this, I promise" You backed away from him, you took out a tripod, setting up near his bed randy to his surprise.

"You brought a fucking tripod, Y/N" he exclaimed, biting his lip.

"I was hoping you would say yes, just something to keep if I'm not here" You winked at him, before hitting record on it.

"Lay down" you ordered Randy before you got down on your knee before him, looking up at him, "You ready" you smiled at him.

"S-sure" he muttered out.

The sound of you unzipping his pants made randy sweat, before you threw his pant to the side, taking off his boxers, revealing his hard dick, with a red tip.

"God, Randy I didn't know you were hiring this from me" before you took your hand to pump it.

"F-fuck" he stutters out, he argued his back, hiding his face from you. "Don't be shy, ran~" you teased before taking his length laying the tip. On your tongue, licking it.

Sinful noises came out from Randy's mouth, before you took his fick into your mouth, you lifted your attention to randy red face.

"Damn it, Y/N" he moaned out.

You pushed your mouth further down his length,. gagging on it a little before going down and back. Before you felt randy's hand forcing your head down on hiss pelvis, gagging you. Tears pricking up on your lashes, before looking at randy.

He face fucked you before he spilled his cum down your throat. You took his dick to open your mouth, wiping your saliva off your face, "Damn, Randy I never knew you could do that" you said, giving him a little smile, before discarding your panties. "Sorry" he responded, before you got on top of him.

"It's okay, I love this side of you" before you lifted his shirt, surprisingly showing his tamed muscles. "Ready" you whispered, giving a little glance to the still-recording camera, you blinked your long lashes at him.

You held his shoulder before lowering yourself to his length, the sharp pain. You heard a moan from randy, as he gently gripped your waist. As you got adjusted to his large size.

"Fuck Randy, your huge" you whispered, already feeling full.

"F-fuck" Randy stuttered out, looking at you his eyes filled with lust, "just move...please" Randy begged out, gripping your waist desperately.

You rolled your hips, lifting yourself and pressing yourself down slowly, his size ripping you apart. Biting your lip in pain.

Randy gripped on your waist digging into your waist, he groaned. "S-shit" you slowly ride him, you pelvis pressing into him

He threw in head back, groaning. Before he gripped your waist forcing you down, in a reckless pace.

You moaned out loud, your breast bouncing to the thrusting of his cock into you. You back arch, as closing your eyes.

You wall spasming around his cock, your tongue lolling out, with pleasure. His pelvis slammed into yours.

"F-fuck, Randy I-im close" you moaned,

"M-me too!" he groaned, before his pelvis slammed into yours, your boobs bouncing to the pace.

Before moaning out, wetting his cock. Randy slammed his waist into you one last time, "W-wait Randy-" you got cut off by him spilled himself into you, your cunt milking his cock.

You body trembles before getting off of Randy, falling onto him, trying to catch your breath, his did still inside you.

The camera still recording.

"Holy shit" Randy muttered, he turned his head toward you, "That was the best sex I ever had"

"It the only sex you ever had" you muttered before Randy got on top of you. "That was better than any movie" he exclaimed happily, his hand near your head, as he was on top you.

"I fucking love you, Y/N," he said; you gently grabbed his hand and caressed it, "I love you too, Randy," you whispered with a smile.

You towards the camera, "Randy," you rubbed his shoulders, "Let's call it the virgin night" you gave him a sinful smile, Randy looked at you with a smile before leading you into a make-out.

"Damn, Randy, how many movies do you even have" Stu yelled, turning his head toward Randy, Billy sitting over on the couch, laying his feet on the coffee table.

"There are never enough movies," Randy grabbed DVD from Stu, "Besides, it's the shining; it's a fucking classic," Randy exclaimed before placing it on the coffee table.

"If you say so dude" Stu responded, before Stu looked for a movie to watch, searching through Randy's movie collection. "What's this" Stu picked up, which caught Billy's attention, "The virgin night, never seen this before" Stu took out, the DVD.

"Probably wasn't released yet, Randy does work at the video store" Billy took his leg off the coffee table, as Stu sat down examing it, "Sounds like a porn movie" Billy muttered, looking at the DVD.

"Wanna watch it?" Stu asked.

"Sure,," Billy shrugged before Stu placed it into the DVD player, grabbing the remote, turning it on.

Not before long, they saw you naked laying there, before billy interrupted "Isn't that Y/N" he said in disbelief.

"No fucking way, that nerd actually did that" Stu looked at the screen, before Randy walked into the living room with a bowl of popcorn, "Did you guys found a movie?" Randy asked

"Yea" Stu answered still looking at the screen.

"What is it?" before Randy sat down, with the bowl of popcorn.

"Your sex tape" Stu and Billy nonchantly responded.

"What.."

SCREAM

“Whats your favorite scary movie? - Randy Meeks x Fem!reader

“I wanna make you my final girl" - Billy Loomis x Fem!reader

“When you scream, itdrivesme nuts If you hang up, I’ll spill your guts” - Stu Macher x Fem!reader

``💿📷- Randy Meeks x fem!reader

Dessert - billy loomis x reader

SLASHER

POV: you called the slasher a munch - Michael Myers, Jason Voorhees, Freddy Krueger, Billy Loomis, and Stu Macher

"Oh Micheal" - micheal myers x reader

"I wanna make you my final girl."

n.o.t.e.s - Skeet Ulrich is fine as hell.

w.a.r.n - p in the v, penetration, creampies, unprotected sex, dub-con to non con, wall sex, fingering.

p.a.i.r.i.n.g - Billy Loomis x fem!reader

w.c. - 1.3k

Music was blasting through the house, holding your red solo cup filled with some mysterious alcoholic drink.

It was another senior party, and it was of course a party hosted by Stu in his parent's huge house. You got forced to go to the party by Tatum and Stu. You were surprised when Sidney was at the party.

You saw as she walked into the kitchen you were curious about what she was doing; you were barely doing anything at the party than just sipping on your drink and looking around. Walking into the kitchen, to see Sidney emptying a bag of chips into a bowl. You placed your drink onto the counter.

"I didn't know your gonna come to the party, Sid" you put your hands into your skirt pockets, she was taken by surprised by your presence into the kitchen.

"I just didn't want to miss out on the fun, you know?" she responded quietly, as she started eating some of the chips, "Mind if I join in, I don't have anything else to do" you gave her a smile.

"Sure" she passed the bowl of chips, as you grab a handful of chips.

"So, where's Tatum"

"Probably with Stu, doing something important" she shrugged, You giggled when she said the last part, "You mean there probably somewhere fucking" you laughed.

You saw her growing a little grin on her lips, "I guess so" she gave you a little smile, but she was still down.

"What got ya down Sid?" you asked her.

She didn't responded with anything, "Is it with Billy?"

She didn't with your question once again, as she just looked away fro you, "You know it okay Sid, he in the wrong after all, beside he should know it, it wasn't your fault" you said, as you hugged her from behind, "Besides it's party have fun" you gave her a reassuring smile and pat on her back.

"I-i guess so" she said, wiping a tear away from her eyelash, she a laugh a bit.

"I gonna see where's Randy at" she said.

You gave her a head shake, as you watched as she left the kitchen, left with the bowl of chips. 'Oh well', as you dug into the chips. You were now alone, as you sighed out.

You were interrupted in your train of thought, from a group of teenager coming into the kitchen, not trying to bother yourself you just left the chips and walked dusted your hands off.

You walked through the hallways of the house, trying to find the entertain of fun in the party, before getting bumped into by a very drunk Billy.

"B-billy" you stuttered out, you were disgusted by the strong smell of alcohol coming from him. "How much were you drinking tonight?"

"Enough to make me think about you~" he cooed, teasing point at your face, you saw the evident empty flask in his hands.

"God, you need to go home..now," you whispered, holding his shoulders.

"I-i just wanna go home with you, darling." he stuttered out as he caressed your cheek, "You're drunk"

"I'm pretty sober"

"Your going home come on" you tugged at his hand, before getting slammed on a wall, immediately smelling the alcohol and his cologne radaring from him.

"You know, Y/N.." he huffed, looking straight at your face, "You're so pretty, I mean pretty than Sidney in a way" He caressed your face, and you felt his hand sneaking up your skirt.

You grabbed his hand, "Stop, you have a fucking girlfriend, Billy," you hissed at him angrily; he slammed you into the wall forcefully, grabbing your chin, "You know you want it to, Y/N, come on." He forcefully peeled off your panties.

You felt his thick fingers inside of your cunt, your legs wobbling from the impact, as he thrust his finger inside you. "Your wet," he whispered into your ear, and a smuggled smile appeared on his face. You turned your head away from him. His finger fucked you, as you covered your mouth hiding your moans.

"I wanna hear you scream," he whispered into your ear as he took your hand away from your mouth, forcing his tongue into your mouth to kiss. Withdrawing from your lips, being connected by a string of saliva. You whimpered out as his fingers were still trusted inside you before getting withdrawn.

His fingers coated with your slick, as he sucked the liquid from his fingers in front of you before shoving into a hot makeout; it was wrong to enjoy this abuse, especially with your friend's boyfriend.

Your heavy breathing was loud as you tried to calm yourself down before you felt yourself getting lifted off the ground onto Billy's shoulder.

"What the hell, put me down, Billy" you yelled before you were silenced by a slap on the ass as you jolted from the slap.

You buried your face onto the pillow, grabbing it, You could of ask him to stop, but you allowed the thought of him being under the influence; you were a fucking fake, fucking your friend's own boyfriend when there going through something, you felt horrible, but you didn't want it to stop.

You were interrupted in your train of thought before getting split out by his cock, hissing from the pain. His hips collided with your ass as he thrust into you, his hips jackhammering into you.

Your moans ranged out as his cock abused your cunt, as he grabbed the back of your hair, pulling you into his chest, thrusting into you deeper, "Fuck" he groaned out into your ear, "God, your tight," he squeezes her clothed chest, before he took off your shirt, ripped your bra off.

Before he started playing with your nipples, your languid moans made Billy harder by the second. As Billy pulled you into a messy, hot kiss while he plunged himself deeper inside you, You felt yourself feeling your orgasm. His cock massaging your inner walls, "Goddamn, your fucking tight," he groaned into your ear as you clamped down on him.

He removed his arms from your body, and you fell onto the bed, your breath labored, as sweat covered your body.

Before he flipped you, hovering over your body, before he plunged inside you again, your moans were loud, his thrust jolting, as your boobs bounced from the rhythm of his hips.

His body pressed onto your own as you held him, your legs placed on his hips, his thrust getting sloppy, both of your bodies covered with sweat, your nail scratching his back, as your nails stain red. The sounds of the thrust being heard around the room, "B-billy, Im close," you moaned out, "I'm gonna fucking cum inside you" You felt a sense of pleasure washing down on you, moaning his name before clamping down onto his cock, he thrust you a few times into you before spilling himself into you, you felt him softening inside of you, as he groaned into your ear.

You and Billy of your panting were loud before he pulled out of you, as his cum dripped out of you. Billy putting back his clothing back on, zipping up his jeans.

"Where you going." you whimpered out, reaching for him, "Finishing some business," he said before kissing you on the lips, "I'll be back soon, precious." before he caressed his cheek.

"So you really did that, huh," Stu asked as Stu lit his blunt, puffing out the smoke, before turning his head to Billy.

"It was easy to get her to be submissive." Before he took a blow from his blunt.

"You make her sound more like a dream; maybe if get to enjoy her too," he said before he took a drag from his blunt; he felt a hard glare from Billy after he said that.

"After your done fucking with her."

"If you touch her, I'll fucking kill you."

"Billy, you never share~" Stu playful whined

"Anyways, your ready for the Woodsboro massacre?" Stu asked gleefully.

"Ready to finish up the daughter of the whore" Billy muttered before taking a long drag from his blunt.

POV: you called the slasher a munch.

n.o.t.e.s - the slashers reacting to you calling them a munch >3, I just wanted to write something and it's still February.

+ Drabbles

w.a.r.n - Ice spice fan (?)

w.c - 347

featuring - Michael Myers, Jason Voorhees, Freddy Krueger, Billy Loomis, and Stu Macher.

Michael Myers

∙ He would be lowkey kinda confused about what a munch is.

∙ Imagine him standing there menacingly, and you're literally crawling on your back, spitting profanities.

∙ You called him a munch when you were running away from him, trying to at least distract him.

∙ Probably scratched his head when he heard the word and cocked his head.

∙ He would just stand there, looking at you confusedly.

Jason Voorhees

∙ This baby would be so confused when said it.

∙ Cocked his head to the side, just standing there, breathing.

∙ I just imagine him just muttering a little "what?".

∙ He would just lower his knife cutely, so confused about what you said.

Freddy Krueger

∙ Probably would tell you to shut the hell up and stop the accusations.

∙ I feel like Freddy would deadass know the meaning of it since he literally kills children, and teenagers have probably heard the term before.

∙ His eyebrows just twitched as he just looked at you.

∙ Probably mad and pissed, just makes him want to kill you more.

Billy Loomis

∙ Similarly, like Freddy, stop the accusation and looks away from you with his face full of red.

∙ He would probably be in disbelief. Probably play it off and ignores you for the whole day.

∙ Your probably gonna be his first victim after you said, 🙏

∙ Imagine your running away from the killer and he just stabs you in the chest, and mutters: "I'm never eater, just a killer".

Stu Macher

∙ Stu would definitely, and I mean definitely prove how he munch and would say it proudly.

∙ Would literally be confident, of this guy an eater just look at him 💀.

∙ Imagine hanging out with him and the whole group, at the water fountain like in the scene from the movie. -And you called him a munch and he like "Are you telling me, that I eat you out so well"

∙ And you're like just standing there blushing.

Lmfao this is so canon 😭💯

Pov: Billy and Stu went to go kill Y/n

Honestly I’ve been laughing at this for a while. I was thinking about Billy Stu and Y/n got together after Billy and Stu went to go and try Y/n just to get beat up……They really tried