sloane

20

[seldomsloane]

sloane's masterlist

SCREAM ꩜ OBSESSION: Answering the phone can be a slippery slope when the caller is a killer with an obsession. Be careful who you anger. •Part Two •Part Three •Part Four •Part Five •Finale ꩜ TOXIC: AU where Stu and Billy get away with it. Once in college, becoming enthralled with the same person leads to a toxic love triangle none of you are sure you can leave. AFAB reader.

Accepting requests for: Scream Star Wars Dexter *Will add more as they come to me*

[seldomsloane]

Thanks for sharing your fan fics, I really love Billy!

Have reader listen Depeche mode songs? This band is great!

The vibes seem ok with Billy, in particular "strangelove", "stripped" or "enjoy the silence"... (And maybey are a possible good inspiration? Idk)

What do you think? 👀

Thank you for your time! 🌸

of course! thank you for reading!

i hadn't heard of depeche mode before, but i gave the songs you mentioned a listen while writing the obsession finale, and you're so right! i already have a few ideas based on them, i'll be sure to tag you in them :)

[seldomsloane]

OBSESSION-FINALE

Summary: Answering the phone can be a slippery slope when the caller is a killer with an obsession. Be careful who you anger. WC:4.1k A/N: We've made it, the end! I hope it lives up to your every expectation (and maybe then some). Disclaimer: There are some mentions of the reader being a female, which I usually try to avoid, so I'm sorry if that ruins the experience!

Please read the additional note at the end. Masterlist @planether24

Fucking what the fuck. Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck. It might as well be the only word to exist with the way your brain seemed unable to produce anything else. You had just watched Billy shoot your friend, Randy's body being flung back into a table from the force.

Sidney screams, running to squat near Randy's limp body on the floor, and Billy let's her. He doesn't let you move, though, despite your attempts to jerk your arm from his grasp. He only adjusts, letting go of your arm in favor of wrapping his own around your waist. At least now you were turned to face your friends. You want to run to Sidney, to check on Randy, but he isn't letting you.

"Anthony Perkins—Psycho." Billy smiles down at you, scratching his head with the gun. His eyes move to Sidney, who stands slowly, and then back to you. He slowly puts a finger into his mouth, sucking the blood off of them. He winks at you, as if this is all some inside joke, and then turns back to Sidney. "Mmm, corn syrup. Same stuff they used for pig's blood in Carrie."

Your stomach twists, and you want to vomit. You had told him that, only it had been several weeks ago and you hadn't known it was him you were telling. You had talked to you're caller about scary movies all the time: special effects, motives, storyline, and worst of all, how to get away with it. It had just been talk, in fact you had had the conversation with Randy many times, but to Billy it was more. It was planning.

Sidney shakes her head, backing away slowly before turning to run. You wish she'd take you with her. But before she can get far, Stu is there. He looks around, face full of shock and horror. Sidney grasps at him, her knight in shining armor.

"Stu," She cries, her hands and face pressed against his chest. "Help me please."

Sidney can't see it, but you can, thanks to Billy giving you the front row seat. Stu's face changes, turns into something unrecognizable as he lifts a small white box to his lips. Billy's fingers rub against the skin exposed from your shirt lifting when he grabbed you.

"Surprise Sidney." Stu smiles down at her.

Fucking what the fucking fuck. There were two of them. Billy and Stu, two-sixths of your friend group. Your stomach has churned so tightly in fear and anxiety that it makes you lightheaded. But there's something more there, as well, though you hate to admit it. Hurt. Betrayal.

Sidney turns to look at Billy, although you can't see what expression he's making, you feel him slowly lean his weight from the door. Sidney doesn't look at you, though you try desperately to catch her attention. You don't expect her to help you, but you were beginning to feel like a spectator in this situation. You want Sidney to escape, and you want to escape too, but everyone here tonight seemed to have already written you off as dead.

Sidney suddenly shoves Stu, trying to escape through the kitchen. Billy's quicker, though, and you're immediately shoved into the arms of Stu. He's got both arms wrapped around your shoulders from behind, a position that would look deceivingly casual to anyone who couldn't feel the tightness of his grip.

"Didn't see that coming, did you?" He whispers into your ear, half gloating and half curious for your answer. You turn your head to meet his curiosity with a look you hope conveys the amount of hatred you have for him right now.

"You did that to Tatum." You spit. Tatum was hanging from his garage door as you spoke. You wonder if she knew who it was before he killed her. You hope not.

"Uh uh, that was all Billy." He smirks, eyes glancing ahead as if to drive his point through your heart.

You look to where he had, to where Billy had come around to block the only other exit in the kitchen. Stu tosses the voice modulator to Billy, which he catches without moving the gun from where it aimed at Sidney's heart. He brings it up, eyes never leaving Sidney.

"What's the matter, Sidney? You look like you've seen a ghost." He taunts.

Sidney turns and runs for the sink, allowing the boys to slowly corner her. You can't do anything but allow Stu to drag you closer. You've become an unwilling part of a fucked up trio.

"Why are you doing this?" Sidney asks, gripping the sink.

"It's all part of the game, Sidney." Stu drawls.

"It's called guess how I'm going to die!" Billy shouts into the voice modulator, raising the gun to her head.

"Billy!" You shout at him in a morbid version of a scold.

"Fuck you!" Sidney shouts over you, and not a single person acknowledges you. How are you a spectator in your own death?

Billy lowers the modulator and gun, eyes narrowing on Sidney.

"No, no, no," He says, handing the gun to Stu, who holds out a knife in trade. Despite only having one arm around your neck Stu is still too strong for you to fight off. You know this because your hands had been gripping his forearm tightly the entire time, trying to sense his strength without him realizing. Billy points the knife at Sidney, stalking closer. "We already played that game remember? You lost."

Sidney looks away from Billy, as if the memory physically pains her. You hurt for her. You hurt for yourself. You hurt. Billy's stalking closer and closer, until Sid is backed into the counter corner.

"See it's a fun game Sidney, see we ask you a question and if you get it wrong BOOGAH! You die." He screams, jerking the gun over your shoulder. You flinch, hands clawing at his arm though you doubt he feels it in the moment.

"You get it right? You die." Billy shrugs casually in Sidney's face.

"You're crazy both of you." Sidney says, eyes on Billy.

Stu moves behind Billy, dragging you along until you're standing right next to them. Sidney and Billy are in the middle of a standoff, but with you right in her face, Sidney's eyes finally turn to yours. It's like she's realized for the first time tonight that you've been here all along. You can't tell what she's thinking, but you hope she can see the pleading in your eyes.

"We prefer the term psychotic." Stu smiles.

"You'll never get away with this." Sidney says, turning her attention back to the two boys. You can only hope that if she can escape this she won't leave you here with them.

Stu laughs like there's a joke Sidney has yet to hear.

"Oh no?" Billy asks quietly. "Tell that to Cotton Weary. You wouldn't believe how easy he was to frame."

You watch Sidney's heartbreak through her eyes.

"Watch a few movies, take a few notes. It was fun." Stu says in a mocking voice.

"And Y/N here was a big help. All those late night phone calls and planning. My girl's a genius." Billy says, head tilting back to gesture at you. Stu's arm tightens painfully around you at Billy's words.

Sidney looks at you, eyes full of betrayal.

"Sid, no, I—" You try, but she doesn't listen. Instead she falls over, but is quickly stopped by the boys.

"Why? Why did you kill my mother?" She asks, voice angry and bitter.

"Why? WHY?" Billy shouts in her face. "You hear that Stu? I think she wants a motive. Hm. I don't really believe in motives, Sid, I mean, did Norman Bates have a motive?"

"No." Stu answers for him, passing you off to Billy as he backs away.

Billy's hand has a tight grip around your arm, it's almost painful. You and Billy are now side by side in front of Sid, but she avoids your eyes as if looking at you would be painful.

"Did they ever really decide why Hannibal Lecter liked to eat people? Don't think so. See it's a lot scarier when there's no motive, Sid. We did your mom a favor, Sid, that woman was a slut bag whore who flashed her shit all over town like she was Sharon Stone or something." Billy rants.

"Yeah, we put her out of her misery, 'cause let's face it, Sid, your mother was no Sharon Stone. Hm?" Stu mocks from feet away, gun aimed at Sidney.

"Is that motive enough for you?" Billy asks, holding the point of the knife to his lips like he used to do with his pencils in class. "How about this: Your slut mother was fucking my father, and she's the reason my mom moved out and abandoned me. How's that for a motive?"

There's complete silence in the room, not even a breath, and you get the feeling that this was news to everyone in the room, Stu included.

"Maternal abandonment causes serious deviant behavior. It certainly fucked you up and made you have sex with a psychopath." Billy spits.

"That's right. You gave it up. Now you're no longer a virgin. Now you gotta die. Those are the rules." Stu laughs, raising the gun to Sidney's head.

Billy backs away, pulling you both from the spot Sidney was glued to by a gun. One arm is over your shoulder, holding the knife, but not to your neck. The other is around your waist. He leans his head down to rest in the crook of your neck, inhaling slowly.

"Billy, stop," You say, using this moment to finally influence the situation. "Let her go. She didn't do anything. Randy, Tatum. . ."

You're unable to finish your list of dead friends. It hurt too much.

"Shhh," Billy whispers into your neck, as if cooing a child. "It'll all be over soon, and then we can be together. The director and his final girl."

"I'll never be with you now." You say, as if stating the obvious.

"You don't mean that." Billy says. It's not a question. Then, turning his attention to Sidney, he continues. "Just pretend it's all a scary movie, Sid. How do you think it's gonna end?"

You can feel Billy melting more into you, but you get a sick feeling that it's more to hurt Sidney than it is for himself. He motions his knife at Stu.

"Oh, oh! This is the greatest part. You're gonna love this, we got a surprise for you, Sidney," Stu says excitedly, turning to lay the gun on a counter. At the same time, Billy moves quickly to hold the knife to Sidney's throat, leaving you finally free of anyone's hands. "You're gonna love this one. It's a scream baby! Hold on a sec. I'll be right back."

Stu backs away into a door, and now it's just the three of you. You stand a moment, looking at Sidney in Billy's arms. This is your chance to help her, except Billy glares at you.

"Move and I'll cut her fucking throat, Y/N." Billy says, and you don't. There are no hands on you and yet you're still stuck under someone's control.

Sidney looks at you, and you think you see the realization that you aren't working with the boys pass through her eyes. You take this chance.

"Sid, I had no idea, I swear. Please." You say, begging her to believe you. You can't tell how truthful you're being, though. You had known. You could've stopped it. You just didn't think it would come to this.

She doesn't say anything, but you see the slight tilt of her head towards you. She believes you, she just doesn't want Billy to know.

"Know what time it is, Sid? It's after midnight, your moms anniversary. Congratulations, we killed her exactly one year ago today." Billy says, though he's staring directly into your eyes. His eyes are a challenge, a dare, or maybe Billy's way of proving something to you. You don't know what it is.

Stu comes back through the door, dragging a man who is tied up.

"Attention. Oh! What do we have behind door number three, Sidney?" Stu asks.

"Daddy!" Sidney says, jerking towards her father despite Billy's strong hold.

"Guess we won't be needing this anymore, huh?" Stu says into the voice modulator before shoving it into Mr. Prescott's shirt pocket. "Oh, look at this, ring ring. Won't need this."

"Got the ending figured out yet, Sid?" Billy asks with a wide smile on his face.

"Come on, Sid. You think about it now, huh. Your daddy's a chief suspect, cloned his cellular, the evidence is all right there, baby." Stu says, leaning over Mr. Prescott until he throws him to the floor.

"What if your father snapped? Your mother 's anniversary set him off and he went on a murder spree, killing everyone." Billy explains.

"Except for Billy and me. We were left for dead." Stu says, and you look back to Billy anxiously. What happened to being together when this was all over? It seemed like Billy and Stu had alternate endings for their movie.

"And Y/N, Stu," Billy says, a warning to his partner. Then he lifts the knife to Sidney's chest. "Then he kills you and shoots himself in the head. Perfect ending."

"I thought of that." Stu says proudly, a slight giggle to his voice.

"Watch this," Billy says, before letting go of Sidney and moving to Stu. "You ready?"

Stu is shouting now, arms behind his head, and you know where this is going. You and Billy had talked about it before: How to get away with murder. The knife is plunged into Stu's side. Sidney gasps. Stu buckles over.

"Aw, man, jesus. Oh shit. My turn." Stu says, looking up at Billy angrily. Billy passes the knife to Stu.

"Don't forget. Stay to the side and don't go too deep." Billy says, pointing a finger at Stu. He's turned to you, giving you a look as if to remind you to stay where you were. You wouldn't run anyways, not without Sid.

"Okay, I'll remember." Stu says unconvincingly. Billy isn't listening though, so when the stab comes he stumbles away in shock.

"Aw, fuck! God damn it, Stu!" Billy shouts, hunched over against the island. He's only a couple inches from you, having stumbled your way after the injury.

"Sorry, Billy. I guess I got a little too zealous, huh?" Stu snaps. Billy moves back towards him, one hand on his wound and the other reaching for the knife.

"Give me the knife." Billy says, and it's apparent to everyone what comes next. Even Stu, because he refuses. "Give me the knife. NOW!"

Stu hands it over.

"You see Sid. Everybody dies, but us. Everybody dies, but us! We get to carry on and plan the sequel, 'cause let's face it, baby, these days, you gotta have a sequel!" Stu shouts, before being stabbed once again.

Billy stabs Stu, over and over again.

"You sick fucks have seen one too many movies." Sidney whispers.

"Now, Sid, don't you blame the movies! Movies don't create psychos, movie makes psychos more creative, right baby?" Billy says, words directed at you before he stabs Stu once more.

"Stop it, Billy, would ya, alright? I can't take anymore. I'm feeling woozy here!" Stu shouts, doubled over. He's right. He's soaked in blood. This couldn't have been part of their plan.

"Alright. You get the gun and I'll untie Pops, okay?" Billy says to Stu, holding the knife under his chin. "NOW!"

Stu nods and then turns for the gun, but stops once he's in front of the counter. It's gone. Both boys are standing by the counter when Gale Weathers appears, gun pointed at them.

"Right here, assholes." Gale says. You move to stand next to Sidney.

"I thought she was dead." Billy says, turning to Stu angrily.

"She looked dead, man. Still does." Stu says.

"I've got an ending for you. The reporter left for dead in the news van comes to, stumbles on you two dipshits, finds the gun, foils your plan, and saves the day." Gale bites out.

"I like that ending." Sidney says, her confidence growing. Stu turns to her, annoyance written on his face.

"I know something you don't." Billy whispers, advancing on Gale quickly.

Gale tries to shoot, but nothing happens. Billy lifts his leg, kicking Gale back onto the porch where she hits her head and falls limp. Billy steps out onto the porch, and Stu's back is to the kitchen. You and Sidney share a look before she's picking her father up. She begins to pull him out of the room when she stops to motion for you to follow. You shake your head no, because you have a plan. Sidney nods before her and her father rush out of the room.

Billy and Stu come back just in time, angry and shouting for Sidney. As soon as Stu is leaned against the counter, hand on his wounds, you throw yourself at him.

"Stu!" You shout, grabbing his face in your hands. "I was so worried about you, is it bad?"

Billy freezes in his spot by the stove at your words, slowly turning to you and his partner. Stu is looking down at you confused, it's written all over his face. You don't give Billy a chance to read it. You press your lips to Stu's, kissing him as if your life depended on it, because it did. And so did Sidney's and her father's. You pull away before he can push you off of him.

"What the fuck." Billy bites out, stalking closer. He grabs your arm, pulling you away from Stu and positioning you behind him.

"No, stop, I love him!" You yell desperately at Billy.

"Billy, man, I don't know what she's talking about." Stu says nervously, his weight fully against the counter now. Billy's chest is moving rapidly, anger pooling off of him.

"Stu, just tell him," You say, and when Stu stands there helplessly, you continue. "Stu's been calling me for weeks. He confessed earlier, while you were upstairs with Sidney. We love each other."

"That's not true, Billy. I wanted her dead! I wanted it to be us two, man!" Stu shouts, but Billy isn't listening. He's so angry you think he might kill Stu, but the phone suddenly rings.

Billy answers it, and you can tell it's Sidney. Fuck. You had them. If she had just given you time. Billy is yelling into the phone while Stu pulls out a chair to sit on. Billy passes the phone to Stu, he's going to look for Sidney.

"Don't do anything you'll regret." Billy says to you, before stalking off.

You could kill Stu while he talks on the phone, but Billy's moving too frantically in and out of the kitchen, and you don't have a weapon. You move towards the kitchen entrance by the front door, peaking out to see Gale and Dewey passed out on the porch. As you're standing there you watch Billy move into the hall, and then suddenly turn towards the closet with a smile.

"Billy, don't!" You shout, praying Sidney isn't in there.

She's got it handled, though. To your surprise she shoots out of the closet, dressed in that all too familiar costume, stabbing Billy in the chest with an umbrella. She stabs him one more time before he falls to the ground. Sidney pulls off the mask as she stands over him, throwing his gun away from him.

You don't have time to see what else she does because you're suddenly knocked to the ground. Stu is on top of you for a brief moment before your bodies roll and you're on top of him. He's quick to punch you across the face with enough force to throw you off of him. He tries to climb back on top of you, but you kick him in between his legs before getting up to run into the living room.

You don't make it far from him. He throws himself at you once more, flinging you both into the center of the living room. He's on top of you again, and man are you getting tired of this shit.

"You fucking bitch!" He shouts down at you, spit flinging from his mouth and onto your face. "It was supposed to be me and Billy! You ruined everything!"

You'll regret it, but you bring your head up quick and hard to slam against his nose. You ignore the ache in your forehead as you let him fall off of you. Standing, you quickly scan the room before landing on the tv. You run around it, giving it one hard shove off of the stand and onto Stu Macher's head.

"Fucking dick." You spit at his body, not bothering to stick around and watch the electricity run through him.

Sidney's standing in the entrance to the living room. She had watched your fight. You can tell she feels guilty for not stepping in.

"Y/N—" She starts, but you stop her with a raised hand.

"It's okay, Sid. We're alive." You say, because what else could possibly matter?

You both walk back to the hallway where Billy's body lays. Sidney allows you to lean some of your weight on her, you must've twisted your foot at some point.

Sidney sits next to Billy's body, picking up a mask. You just stand at his feet, staring down at Billy—your caller. Sidney's gasping suddenly, and you look up to find Randy sitting up next to her.

Great fucking timing.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry." He says.

"Randy, I thought you were dead." Sidney says, holding onto Randy's arm.

"I did too. I never thought I'd be so happy to be a virgin." Randy says.

"Jesus, Randy." You laughed.

Sidney and Randy stand together just as you all realize Gale is standing by the door.

"Are they. . .?" Gale trails off. Sidney nods. "Good. Some fucking story this'll make."

You all crowd around Billy's body, still laying lifeless from where Sidney had stabbed him. Sidney kicks his leg, but he doesn't react.

"Careful. This is the moment the supposedly dead killer comes back to life, for one last scare." Randy says over Sidney's shoulder.

But Billy doesn't move.

"Not in my movie." Sidney says, before kicking Billy's body one last time.

You let out a breath of relief. Whether that be because he's dead or because you don't have to watch him die again, you're not sure.

A loud sound causes the group to jump, but your eyes remain on Billy. You're sure you hear Sidney and Randy working to untie Mr. Prescott, but you are somewhere else. You even hear the group of four walk out the front door to check on Dewey, but you only sink to the ground next to Billy's body. His head is by your leg, and you place a hand on his cheek.

"I loved you, Billy, before I even knew it was you. Why'd you have to be so stupid?" You whisper to him, but dead boys can't hear secrets, and they certainly don't answer questions.

You lean down and kiss his cheek, lingering only for a minute. You have to go, before the group comes back and finds you there, crying over a killer's corpse.

The police and paramedics are there shortly. Sidney had told you that she called them while she hid in the closet. You and her sat next to each other in the back of a parked ambulance, getting your wounds patched up. You showed them the deep gash on your arm, your swollen ankle, and your busted face. The paramedics winced at your body, but at least you were alive.

You knew eventually you would have to explain everything the Sidney, but for now you wanted to sit with her.

The Sheriff approaches the two of you, his eyes troubled.

"Sidney, Y/N. You said it was Billy Loomis and Stu Macher, correct?" He asks warily.

"Yes." Sidney vocalizes for the both of you.

"I don't know how to say this, but. . . we only found two bodies. Tatum Riley and another we can't identify. There's a. . tv on his head." He coughs awkwardly. He wants the two of you to tell him which killer they had caught, and which killer had got away.

Sidney yells out, collapsing into you in a mess of sobs and frustration. You only stare on, thinking back to a conversation you only just remembered having with your caller weeks ago.

Oh, if I was a killer? No final scare scene. You die on screen and your story ends. If you live, you get to come back for the sequel.

A/N:omg whatttt cliffhanger?? anyways i do want to say that while this is the finale and i do not plan to continue on with Obsession, i do intend at some point to start working on a sequel series! thank you to everyone who read and enjoyed this series!

[seldomsloane]

I’M SO EXCITED FOR OBSESSION PART FIVE; YOU HAVE NO IDEA

i don’t work tomorrow so guess what i’m going to be doing tonight 😛 obsession part six up tomorrow 🙌🏻

also going to use this to say a little thank you to everyone who’s been commenting, liking, reblogging, and overall encouraging me to continue writing. i appreciate y’all so much!

[seldomsloane]

OBSESSION-PART FIVE

Summary: Answering the phone can be a slippery slope when the caller is a killer with an obsession. Be careful who you anger. WC:3.8k A/N: This has been my favorite part to write. Hope y'all enjoy!

Masterlist

@planether24

The party was hardly a party when you and Randy arrived. Only a few people were beginning to arrive when you had kicked open the front door, thanks to your hands full of the tapes Randy brought. You threw them onto the living room floor, greeting the people lounging on the couch.

Maybe the party hadn't officially started, but you knew exactly where your first stop would be. You didn't bother turning on the garage lights, you could find the garage fridge with your eyes closed—from across town. And that was before a killer came to Woodsboro, at this point you were prepared to become borderline alcoholic.

You found Stu in the kitchen when you returned with two beers, both for yourself. He was wearing a red velvet robe littered with the crumbs of whatever food he was currently shoving in his face.

"Hey, Hefner. Where's Sid and Tate?" You ask, hopping up to sit on the counter. You crack open your beer, gulping it quickly. Your other beer sat in between your thighs, the cold numbing them.

"If I knew I wouldn't be eating scraps in my own kitchen," He smiles, swallowing down the food. He moves closer, standing in front of your legs. "They've got the food."

"Well where's. . . everyone else?" You ask, though you hate to admit it took effort not to mention Billy. To your friends, you and Billy had never really spoken.

"Oh, they're coming, girl, don't you worry," He smirks, which pairs perfectly with his douchey robe. "Unless you're asking for one Billy Loomis, 'cause then I'd have to ask when you two became so close."

Stu's looking at you like he knows something you don't, and you hate it. You had to teach Stu how to wash his own laundry. What could he possibly know that you don't?

"Good thing I wasn't, then." Is all you say, throwing your head back to finish off your first beer. You toss the empty can at his chest, already reaching for your second beer between your thighs. But it's gone, and Stu is awfully quiet to have just been assaulted via beer can. "Stu. That was mine."

"Yeah? Well why is it in my hand, then?" He smiles, lifting your beer to chug it.

His throat is at eye level with you, and you watch the adam's apple on his throat bob with every drink he takes. Then, a large hand moves up your thigh and rests on the spot numbed by the cold can. A tight squeeze to your thigh has your eyes darting to be anywhere but your friend's throat.

"I'll just get another one." You say, clearing your own throat. You hop down from the counter and away from Stu's hand. Sounds from the living room let you know that Stu's crowd of invitees have arrived, and loudly.

"Have fun." Stu sings, giving you a look you can't decipher as he backs away and disappears into the living room.

What the fuck. Stu was touchy, sure, but never anything that crossed the friendly boundary. That touch felt different. It felt intentional and almost. . .possessive. First Billy, now Stu. What was going on with everyone? Everyone was acting weird and you felt like a sitting duck while things were happening around you.

The loud sounds growing inside Stu's house faded as you followed the path back to the garage. You weren't nearly drunk enough to make it through this night.

You didn't bother turning the lights on this time, either. The cool air from the fridge was more than welcome to your warm skin. After grabbing your beer, you bent down to feel the cool air hit your face. You sighed loudly in relief, the suffocation of your life melting away.

"What are you doing?"

You stand and turn quickly. It's Billy, standing at the top of the garage steps in his signature white tee.

"I'm noticing a pattern here, Billy. You know you can say hi like a normal person, right?" You ask, laughing lightly.

Billy walks down the steps chuckling at your words, but it doesn't quite meet his eyes. His eyes that are staring into you like prey.

"Sorry," He says when he's halfway to you, but he doesn't slow. He doesn't stop until he's standing in front of you, too close to be normal, but far enough to not cross a boundary. "I missed you."

You scrunch your brows in confusion. Your and Billy's friendship—if it could be called that—had just begun today, but it already felt like it was morphing into something else entirely. It was too sudden, too wrong. Every interaction with Billy felt like it was a prelude to something bigger. You knew something was wrong, and yet it felt like you were always playing your part perfectly in whatever it was Billy was doing. You weren't sure why it was so hard not to.

"Billy, I don't know if—" You began, but Billy was quick to cut you off. He moves closer, the tip of his nose grazing yours. He doesn't move to touch you, though.

"You don't know, Y/N." He says, but doesn't elaborate. You're confused, overwhelmed, and suffocating in the warmth of him. You don't know what he's doing—you never do—and you don't know how you'll respond—you never do.

"Wha—" You don't even know what you were going to ask. It's hard to know anything with Billy's lips on yours.

He grabs the back of your neck, crashing himself into you. At the same time, his feet move to force you back against the fridge. It's quick, hungry, demanding, and before you can even think about what's happening you're kissing him back.

Both of his hands are around your neck, yours are on his chest. Every movement with his mouth is matched with your own. Has he always been this warm? Were his lips always this soft? Were you missing out this whole time, not knowing how good he tasted?

His tongue is in your mouth, exploring every inch. You push back with your own, wanting to take just as much of him as he was taking of you. You move your hands to his hair, gripping the hair at the nape of his neck. Could kissing someone feel this good?

He bites your lip hard enough for you to taste blood that he quickly licks away. You moan at the feeling. There wasn't anything he could do in this moment that wouldn't feel right. You pull at his hair, using it as leverage to pull his lips further into yours. He lets you pull him closer, pressing his entire body flush against yours.

You feel his hips move, slowly grinding himself into you. He moans into your mouth, and you greedily take it from him, pushing your hips forward to draw more out.

When he pulls his lips away you're embarrassed to find yourself whining, but he quickly makes up for it by attacking you neck. He's not gentle or shy. He's lips and teeth sucking and nipping at your skin until it stings. But you're more than willing to take the abuse, letting yourself moan as loudly as you please. It's not like anyone could hear you from inside anyways.

Fuck.

"Billy, stop." You shout, pushing him off of you quickly. He stumbles back, breathing heavy and looking somewhere between dazed and starved. You're panting too, skin flushed and likely bruised by him. He takes a second to breathe, staring at you until you watch the cloudiness in his eyes disappear.

"Shit. I'm sorry, you're just. . ." He doesn't finish his sentence. He shakes his head once.

You aren't sure what to say either. So, you grab the beer you had dropped at some point, though you don't remember when, and make a hopefully not obvious run for the door. Billy doesn't say anything or move, and once you make it back into Stu's house you finally take a gulp of air you hadn't known you needed.

What the fuck was wrong with him? What the fuck was wrong with you? You could've stopped him. You could've never even reciprocated the kiss in the first place. But you had, and you can't ignore that every time you're around Billy you do things that are stupid. Everything about Billy just feels right, like being with him is how it's supposed to have always been.

You are not stupid. You are rational and clever, and that part of you knows that something is going on with Billy. His increasing presence in your life was accompanied by your caller's absence. And yes, maybe it had only been a day, but why did it feel like Billy had picked up right where your caller had left off?

When you make it back to the living room you find your friends sitting on the couch. You throw yourself down between Tatum and Sidney, welcoming their presence despite avoiding it all day. Now you had something new to avoid.

"Y/N, where have you been?" Tatum asks, turning to look at you. Her eyes blow wide, jaw dropping. She's looking at your neck, a small smile on her lips. "What happened to you?"

Sidney peaks around to see what Tatum is talking about, her hand covering her mouth as she giggles.

"More like who happened to you." Sidney laughs, leaning back into her seat.

"Nothing. I. . fell." You say, though a small smile crosses your face when Tatum laughs loudly at your words.

"Seriously, Y/N, your neck is bleeding," Tatum laughs. "You should sue whoever did that to you."

You laugh with Tatum, trying to shake off the nerves from what happened earlier. Stu's head pops around Tatum, eyes roaming the state of your face and neck with a smirk.

"I see you took my advice." He says smugly. You groan, turning away from him to open your beer.

It's been far too easy for you to tune out the world around you. You're sitting with your friends, and you know they're talking, but it's as if you're on opposite ends of a tunnel. The last few days, even weeks, haven't been easy on you. Now it feels like it's all coming to a head in one giant, confusing mess. Hopefully it can all wait for another day. Tonight, you just wanted to get drunk.

Your thoughts are interrupted when shouts from excited teen boys let you know that Gale Weathers is here. You quickly stand with the rest of your friends, listening to Tatum scold Dewey. Tatum leaves in a huff, and Dewey gives you a desperate look as if to ask 'what did i do?'.

"Should've left her at the door, Dewey." You say, patting his arm in mock comfort before throwing yourself back down onto the couch.

Dewey and Sidney are talking quietly by the door, Tatum's off doing who knows what, and Stu and Randy are busy blushing over the news lady. You're once again left to sit with your thoughts on the couch. You've stolen at least three beers from your fellow party-goers, but honestly you lost count after that.

At some point the excitement dies down and the party returns to normal. However, you were still unsure where your friends were scattered off to. Besides your run in with Billy in the garage and the few minutes you all sat in the living room, it seemed they all had better things to do.

You hear a shout at the front door and peak your head over the back of the couch to find Sidney and Stu standing at the front door, Billy leaning just outside the threshold. You can't hear what they're saying, but the sight of Sidney leading Billy upstairs has you sobering up quickly.

Fuck.

Billy had said he and Sidney had been on and off before. Making out with your friends ex boyfriend was bad enough, but if they get back together? You were fucked. You slump back down onto the couch, suddenly nauseous.

You were doing a lot of wrong and dumb shit lately. Talking to strangers-turned-killers on the phone, making out with your friends ex who also happened to be accused of being a killer. Seriously what is your problem?

You get up, deciding that the best way to handle these feelings was through more drinking. You enter the garage, not bothering to turn on the light. You get to the bottom of the stairs before you hear a crunch under your feet. Looking down, you find shattered beer bottles all over the floor. Glass shards are sticking out of the soles of your shoes.

"What the fuck." You groan, leaning against the banister to pull the pieces out of your shoe.

Once your shoes are clean you march on, but it isn't until you're a foot from the fridge that you realize the freezer door is slightly ajar. Suddenly the room feels wrong. Maybe it was just some drunk and rowdy teens, or maybe it had something to do with the killer on the loose.

The sight you find in front of you as you turn to inspect the room has you sick to your stomach. Your friend, Tatum Riley, hangs from the partially closed garage door, blood staining down her body and forming a small pool on the ground below her. You're immediately sober. Sober enough to run to her, grabbing her arm as you run around her body to the outside of the garage.

You don't know what you expected. To find her there alive still, even if just barely? But she was long gone, her neck crushed by the garage door mechanics. You don't scream, but you do cry. You hold Tatum's dangling hand, crying and mumbling her name as if she'd answer. You know who did this, and you know Tatum's death is your fault.

Your hand reaches for your mobile in your pocket, but it's gone. You don't remember losing it, and you have no idea when you did. There's a killer here, and the last thing you wanted to do was go inside, but you needed to call the police and warn your friends, wherever they were.

You hold Tatum's hand for a second longer and then turn and run for the door leading into Stu's house. It's locked, even though it hadn't been moments earlier. You turn and run under the open garage door to the front of Stu's house. As you come around you see all the final stragglers of Stu's party running into their cars and speeding out of his driveway.

Were they running from the killer? Did your friends make it out?

You run for the front door anyways, not wanting to risk the chance of leaving them here. It's empty, the only sound being the tv in the living room, but you don't see anyone in there from your spot at the front door so you head for the stairs. Sidney and Billy would be up here, that you knew.

When you find Stu's room empty you run for his parent's. You don't bother knocking on the cracked door. You had already found one friend dead, there's not much worse you can walk in on at this point.

"Sidney, B—" You yell, throwing open the door. It hits something with a loud thump that refuses to let it open fully. Your eyes drop to the body at your feet. A white tee, stained blood red. "Billy, oh my god."

You drop down to his side. He's laying on his stomach, head facing the opposite direction. You put a hand on his cheek, leaning over his body to inspect his face. If it wasn't for all the blood, you'd think he was only asleep.

"Billy, Billy, Billy," You whisper his name, much like you had Tatum's. Another person who's death was your fault. And this time, it was the person you had suspected as the killer. Tears were still streaming down your face, tears spilled for Tatum mixing with the ones spilled for Billy. Your guilt crushed you. "I'm so sorry."

You hold your hand there for a moment before standing to look around the room. Sidney wasn't here, and all the blood looked to be Billy's. You aren't sure where to look until you hear a scream from outside. It sounded like Sidney. You're running downstairs to find her when you somehow catch the drunk mumblings coming from the living room.

You stop, running into the room to realize that Randy had been laying on the couch the whole time, hidden behind the back of it. You run around the couch, blocking the tv to Randy's annoyance.

"Randy, get the fuck up, we have to go, now!" You yell, grabbing his arm to pull him from the couch. He fights you, but you don't have time to babysit a drunk. "Randy the fucking killer is here, let's go!"

"What?" He says, his fear no doubt fighting off his drunken haze the way yours had.

You both run out the door, you pulling Randy by the hand. You run to the side, ducking behind the boat parked in front of Stu's garage, Tatum's final resting place. Not a great spot to stop, sure, but you needed to figure out a plan without standing out in the open.

"Oh, fuck, Tatum?" Randy says, his face scrunched in fear.

"Randy, listen. Tatum and Billy are dead. Who else is here?" You ask, hoping he'd say that Sidney and Stu had left with the crowd.

"It's just our group. Oh, god, Y/N I can't die here." He says. You're obviously the most level-headed at the moment.

"You're not going to die, Randy." You say, squeezing his hand.

You hear a voice yelling just then. It's Gale, calling for her camera man, Kenny. You peek around the boat to see Gale hopping into her van. She couldn't leave without Randy. They could go get help, and you could stay to find your remaining friends.

"Randy, go. Go with Gale." You say, shoving him. You don't have to tell him twice. He runs towards the van, leaving you to sit behind the boat and think.

Where the fuck was everyone? Who was killing your friends? You heard the sound of the van driving off through your jumbled thoughts, a small victory. Randy made it out.

"Dewey, where are you? Dewey!" You hear Sidney's voice echo through the empty night.

You shoot up from your spot, watching as Sidney ran towards the front door and then stopped. She screamed in terror at something that was out of your view. Just as you were about to call for her, she turns and runs towards Dewey's car. A figure cloaked in black follows after her.

Sidney locks herself in the car, but when the figure's standing at the driver's window taunting her and she still hasn't pulled out, you know somethings wrong. You run for the vehicle just as the figure moves to the back, opening the trunk. You want to call her name, but you can't stop the killer from getting to her if he hears you coming.

He's inside the car before you can get to it. Sidney's sitting in the passengers seat, a radio in her hand. You groan at what you're about to do before you throw yourself into the trunk with the killer. He's just jumped for Sidney, his arms wrapped around her, when you jump on top of his back.

You beat at him wildly, hoping that whatever you're hitting hurts. You can tell Sidney is also fighting back from the grunts the killer makes underneath the mask. You're once again about to do something stupid. You wrap your arms tightly around the killer's body, using your weight to hold him down.

"Sidney, run!" You yell, hoping that your efforts will be enough to stop him from running after her.

Sidney hits the figure one last time before she's able to throw herself to the ground outside of the car. Your caller tries to reach for her, but you use all of your strength to pull him back. Once he realizes Sidney's gone, he turns his attention to you. His knife slices a painfully deep cut into your arm in an attempt to force them off of him. You scream, but you don't let go. He rears his head back, colliding it with your nose hard enough for your vision to swim. Your body goes limp, falling back onto the car. The killer climbs out and runs somewhere out of your line of sight.

You lay there until your vision stops swimming. You can feel blood pouring down both your arm and nose. You would've laid there all night if you could, but the sounds of Randy, who was supposed to be long gone, yelling for help forced you up. You climb out of the car to find Randy beating at the front door of Stu Macher's house.

"Sidney! Let me in!" He's still shouting by the time you reach him.

"Randy, what the fuck? Why are you here?" You ask, wiping the blood from your lips.

"That fucking bitch hit me! Sidney's inside and she won't let me in! It's Stu, Y/N, he's the killer!" He's shouting frantically, one hand gripping his leg.

"Okay, calm down, we'll—" You start, but suddenly the door is opened by Billy Loomis, dead boy walking. You stand there in shock for a moment. Randy, on the other hand, throws himself at Billy.

"Please, help us!" Randy says as Billy pulls him further into the house.

"Woah, get in, get in." Billy says quickly, turning back to you to grab your arm and pull you inside. He doesn't let go, and instead holds you close as he shuts and locks the front door. Your face is pressed close to his chest, he smells sweet. You notice Sidney standing on the other side of him, and a gun gripped tightly in his right hand.

Randy's behind you now. You're stuck between Billy and the door he's leaning on. Sidney's leaning into him. His head is tucked just over your shoulder, and you can hear the sound of him inhaling slowly.

"Stu's flipped out! He's gone mad!" Randy says.

Stu. Stu was the one calling you all this time? He killed Tatum, stabbed Billy, and attacked Sidney? He was the only other person here according to Randy, but it didn't feel right. Stu couldn't be your caller.

Billy turns slowly, eyes zeroed in on Randy. There's a look in them you've never seen before. You're still held close to Billy's chest, but he doesn't allow you to turn your body to face Randy. You're forced to turn your head as far as possible to see him. His grip on your arm tightens painfully, as if he thinks you might run away.

"We all go a little mad sometimes." He whispers, before lifting the gun and shooting Randy in the chest.

[seldomsloane]

OBSESSION-PART FOUR

Summary: Answering the phone can be a slippery slope when the caller is a killer with an obsession. Be careful who you anger. WC:1.8k A/N: I'm currently in between working and my summer research project so I haven't been as active but I've delivered nonetheless! (Not proofread sorry)

Masterlist @planether24

"Kizzool cuz Skizool izz izzout!" Stu says, popping around your group of three to distribute flowers, "Darling, I don't know what you did, Sidney, but on behalf of the entire student body we all say thank you!"

Sidney walks in between you and Tatum, and you can see the discomfort on her face. Tatum swats a hand at Stu, quietly telling him to drop it, before he cuts around your group to throw her over his shoulder.

"Improptu party at my house to celebrate this little fiesta, what do you say?" Stu asks, keeping stride with you and Sidney on the sidewalk. You roll your eyes at him.

"Are you serious?" Sidney asks, giving Stu a look.

You had to agree with the sentiment. You had just spent half the day avoiding your own friends. A party with all of them was the last thing you needed, especially considering you couldn't be sure that one of them wasn't your caller.

"Parents are out of town. If this little vixen doesn't invite the entire world, we'll be fine," Stu says, spinning Tatum around and placing her on the ground. He comes up to Sidney's right, saying, "Intimate gathering, intimate friends."

"What do you think, guys? I mean, pathos could have it's perks." Tatum says, grabbing on to Stu's hand.

"Totally protected, yo, I am so buff. I got you covered, girl." Stu says, eyes never leaving Sidney's despite maneuvering Tatum through his arms.

It's not working, though. Sidney's worried, you can tell. You, however, were downright distraught. You weren't usually this quiet around your friends, but you couldn't help but stay in your head after the last few weeks you had. You were just grateful your friends didn't seem to notice.

Of course, nothing lasts forever, because when you look up from your feet all eyes are on you. You can tell from the victorious looks on the couple's faces that Sidney agreed to go. Now it was just up to you.

"Y/N. Food, beer, company of yours truly? You in?" Stu asks, his determined and slightly begging eyes are now focused on you.

You aren't sure what to say. Honestly, you didn't even expect them to be able to convince Sidney. You smile awkwardly.

"Yeah, maybe. I'll think about it, okay?" You say, squeezing Sidney and Tatum's arms goodbye and nodding to Stu. Before they can say anything else, you turn and rush away from the sidewalk.

You don't want to go home, where your caller knew to find you, and you couldn't be around your friends right now. Without much thought to your destination, your feet are pulling you into town.

You weren't sure where you were going until the familiar ding of your favorite store's door pulled you away from your thoughts. Vinyls, cassettes, and a few CDs lined the shop. Right now, your friend Randy was probably next door sorting through tapes at the video store, but the music store was yours.

It's near empty, save for a couple wanderers who pretend to look around and then promptly leave for the much more popular store next door. You move quickly to the back of the store, picking up a new tape on the way. In the back, behind rows and shelves and hidden from view, you sit in the corner of the floor. Your Walkman in your hands, headphones on your head, and your new tape playing.

You could've sat like that for hours, pretending your life wasn't your life. It gave you space to think. If Billy was the killer, why had the police cleared him? If Billy wasn't the killer, why did everything else suggest otherwise? If it wasn't Billy, who could it be?

You weren't even sure if you wanted to know anymore. Pictures of black robes and tan hands on your body flashed through your mind and you couldn't help the chill that ran over your skin.

"Y/N," A voice says faintly through your music. You look up, and, of course, Billy stands in front of you. He's looking down at you as if he'd been searching for you. You take off your headphones just as he finishes, "Can I sit?"

You nod even though he was already lowering himself to sit in the floor next to you. Your backs are pressed against the same wall, but you are careful to keep your eyes forward despite his burning gaze on you. He clears his throat and on instinct your eyes snap to meet his.

"I know I said this earlier, but I really appreciate what you said. I mean, no one believed me. Even now I can tell they still think it was me," He says. You smile awkwardly, unsure of what else to do in this situation. "They cleared me, you know. My phone was clean. They even think I scared him away. Sid still doesn't trust me."

You don't know why he's choosing you to tell all this to. At the very least, he has Stu. It's already hard enough to determine who Billy Loomis really is without him confiding his feelings to you.

"Sidney's been through a lot. She just needs time." You say, because it was the only true advice you could give him. Sidney had been through a lot and she would come around, it's just her nature. Billy didn't strike you as a patient person, though.

'I've been through a lot, too." He says sharply, turning his head in the opposite direction. He's not looking at anything specifically, just refusing to look at you. You can't tell exactly whether you've hurt or angered him.

"Billy, I'm sorry," You sigh, not sure of what you were about to do or why you were doing it. "If you need to talk. . . I can listen."

He turns back to look at you then. There's a look in his eyes that you can't place no matter how hard you dissect it. You're not sure if you'll ever understand it.

"Sid and I haven't been okay for a while. I've been through a lot, too, but. . . it doesn't really matter with someone like Sidney," He says, talking as if it's taking effort to pull the words out of him. "And now this. I'm an accused murderer and I'm pretty sure I just got dumped. We've, uh, been on and off before."

This was the first real conversation you'd had with Billy and he was being so. . honest. It unnerved you. It made you wonder how desperate he had to be to confide in a near stranger.

"Have you talked to her yet? I'm sure she feels awful about what happened." You answer, but you're not sure how true it is. You really didn't know their relationship beyond knowing Sidney.

"It doesn't matter," He says, looking down. You have a feeling he didn't really want advice, but you can tell there's a point to the conversation. You're just not sure what it is yet. "Thank you. For listening."

"No problem." You say quietly.

Maybe you're making it up, but you swear his body shifts the slightest bit towards you. Suddenly your corner of the store is too quiet, too dark, too isolated. The only sounds between the two of you are your quiet breaths. Billy's eyes roam your face. You're scared of what he's looking for. Before you can think about it, his face is only an inch or two from yours.

"Stu's throwing a party tonight," He whispers. "I'm invited, but I don't know if I'm welcome. Will you go?"

His voice is hopeful, and so are the dark brown eyes looking into yours. There it is, the point of the conversation. He didn't want to feel alone at his friend's party. The thought, why go? crosses your mind, and you immediately feel bad for it. He's a lot like Sidney, in that way. Or maybe you were weak when it came to others.

"Yeah, Billy, I'm going." You sigh, looking down.

A warm hand is placed over your hand that rests on your thigh. Your head shoots up out of instinct, and Billy is there, even closer now.

"Thank you, Y/N," He says earnestly. He stands, and when his hand doesn't leave yours you realize he's holding it. "I'll see you there?"

You nod, eyes trailing down to the hand holding yours. It's warm, and tan. It's almost familiar before it's pulled from yours. Billy turns and leaves the shop before you can say anything else.

Can you trust Billy? Can you trust anyone? This party was the last thing you needed, but it seemed like everyone you knew was counting on you to go. It was just one night. You could do it.

You eventually stand, making your way to the front counter to pay for the tape you had already unwrapped and listened to. It would be a good addition to your collection. You sit the tape on the counter, fishing out the cash from your pocket.

"Oh, you're good to go, your boyfriend already paid." The man working the desk says casually.

Your mouth opens wide, a small sound escaping before you slam your jaws shut. You grab your tape and dart through the front door. Looking around, there's still a crowd moving in and out of Bradley's Video, but you know Randy will be there.

It's much more crowded than the music store, and it takes you a moment to find Randy. He's standing with his cart in the middle of an aisle, Stu lingering around. When you get to them, Stu cuts in before you can even greet Randy.

"Y/N! Decided to come to my little shindig tonight?" Stu shouts, arms wide open.

"Duh." You answer playfully. If you're going to give in and go to the party, you might as well play the part well. Before you can stop it Stu's long arms are wrapped around you in a tight hug.

"You are not going to regret it, Y/N, this is gonna be fun!" He says, lifting you from the ground in his excitement.

He places you back on the ground, shooting you and Randy some goofy hand gesture as he runs out of the store like a maniac. You turn to Randy, who's looking at you like you've grown a second head.

"Cozy with Macher, huh?" He says in mock disgust as he turns to continue putting movies back in their spots.

"I guess so," You say, giving him a look. You start picking up tapes, looking through them for anything good. "I assume you're also going to this party tonight?"

"Wouldn't miss it." He says with a wide cartoonish smile.

"Great. You can take me. My car's still at the station." You smile back, turning to leave before he can protest.

You’re going to the party, sure, but if you can avoid your friends as much as possible tonight you can accept it. Randy was the safest option. You weren’t sure if you could sit in a car with Sidney and Tatum after what happened in the music store. Listening to Billy talk about his issues with Sidney had felt like an invasion of her privacy, maybe even a betrayal, and yet you had done it. You weren’t sure why.

You find your spot at the front counter to wait out the end of Randy's shift. Under the counter were various drawers and boxes for your snooping, and in the front of the drawer marked 'Reserved' sat an all too familiar tape.

Psycho.

If you were sure of one thing, it’s that this damn movie would haunt you for the rest of your life.

A/N (again): Forgive me for the late update, I have become a victim of credit card fraud. This one was short since it's mostly build up for the big finale :P

[seldomsloane]

I'M SO CRAVING OBSESSION PART 4

it’ll be posted tomorrow 🤭 keep an eye out!

[seldomsloane]

OBSESSION-PART THREE

Summary: Answering the phone can be a slippery slope when the caller is a killer with an obsession. Be careful who you anger. WC:2.4k A/N: im alive! its been a long week so im definitely writing to cope. also i am extremely new to tumblr, and also writing, but you guys have been so lovely and supportive, so thank you! hope you enjoy!

Masterlist

@planether24 (hope i'm doing this right lol)

Billy fucking Loomis was your caller. Billy fucking Loomis tried to drown you hours ago. Billy fucking Loomis killed Casey and Steve. Billy fucking Loomis, your best friend's boyfriend, was on top of you tonight.

You couldn't stop your mind from racing as you drove quickly to the police station, where Tatum told you to meet them. You weren't even sure what had happened or if it could have been a mistake. Had they really caught Billy trying to kill Sidney? You hadn't lived in Woodsboro long, but you knew Sidney and Billy had been dating for a long time.

You felt awful, the guilt of everything catching up with you. It was easy to pretend like you weren't partially at fault for everything that had unfolded when your caller was nameless and faceless. Now, you were confronted with a truth you had known this whole time: Talking with your caller had been wrong from the first call.

You should've told someone. Maybe if you had, Casey and Steve would be alive. You might've been able to save Sidney from the heartbreak she was undoubtedly experiencing right now.

As you pulled into the parking lot, you were barely able to avoid running down the dozens of reporters crowding the station entrance. Walking in was a task in itself, since it involved shoulder checking the frenzied reporters asking if you were there for Sidney.

When you entered the station, your eyes locked on Sidney immediately. She sat in the middle of the room, covered with a jacket and staring off into the distance. She's sitting next to Dewey Riley's desk. The deputy had just stood and walked away when you rushed to her side.

"Sid, oh my god, are you okay?" You ask, hands on her shoulders, "Tatum called me."

"Y/N, I'm fine. I'm just. . shaken up, I guess," She says, though you can see the red around her eyes and the slight tremble in her hands, "They can't find my dad."

"Sid, I'm so sorry. They'll find him soon, I'm sure. Come here." You say, leaning down to hug the girl. Sidney was too sweet for this, too kind. She didn't deserve to feel this betrayal. You wanted to take it from her, but you couldn't, and you couldn't pretend you weren't partially responsible for her to be hurting in the first place.

She wraps her arms around you and rests her chin on your shoulder. You can tell she's grateful for the small comfort by the way she clings to the fabric of the t-shirt you had haphazardly thrown on. After a second, you feel her head slowly turn to the side, and you follow the movement yourself.

Inside the Sheriff's office, through the glass, you catch Billy turned in his seat to look at Sidney. Then, his eyes lift to meet yours, and a chill sweeps through your body until you watch him turn to speak to the Sheriff. From the way his hands move and the bob of his father's head, you can tell they are denying Billy's involvement in whatever happened tonight.

You turn back to give Sidney your attention. You hope Tatum gets here soon, because you're not sure you can handle comforting Sid alone when you sat feet away from the man you'd helped hurt her. As bad as it sounds, you were somewhat grateful that she seemed content in sitting there quietly while you comforted her. You could tell she was barely hanging on, and you didn't want to be the one to push her over the edge.

Of course, Billy was more than willing to step in and do it for you. You catch him looking at Sidney once more, and you're not sure if she can see it, but the look in his eyes is anything but the innocent boyfriend. Moments later, when he's being escorted out of the Sheriff's office to what you assume is a holding cell, he's not just attempting to fight off the officers, but also yelling for Sidney.

"Sidney! Sidney, come on, you know me!" He yells, and you can't fight the urge to roll your eyes. You couldn't see it before, but you see it now. He plays the quiet boyfriend perfectly, but it doesn't reach his eyes. They're cold, emotionless, and every second or so they drift from Sidney to you, "Sidney look at me!"

He's forced around the corner just in time, because the first tears have just begun to fall down Sidney's face. She holds your hand, and you try to rub your thumb against it in a way that you hope is comforting. Tatum turns the corner at the same time as Billy, eyes squinted in disgust.

She rushes over to Sidney's side, whispering comforts to her. Sidney's distracted, her and Tatum drifting off into their own world. You hate to do it, but you see this as an opportunity you can't pass. Tatum and Sidney were your friends, but they shared a bond you would never reach, and they were so entangled with each other in this moment you didn't think they'd notice if you slipped away.

The building was packed, people rushing in and out, dozens of different conversations going on at once. You slowly moved towards the hallway Tatum had entered, and Billy had disappeared, through. The further you stepped into it, the emptier it got.

Of course there weren't any officers in the hallway leading to the holding cell. They had caught their killer and he was now behind bars, and every officer here was more than happy to celebrate preemptively.

At the end of the hallway was a set of heavy double doors. You were unsurprised to find them unlocked, though you weren't sure if they had ever even possessed the ability to lock. On the other side stood a row of metal bars along the right wall.

The holding cell was empty save for the figure hunched over in the far corner. He didn't look up when you entered. You were standing an inch from the bars between the two of you before he finally peeked up through his hair.

"Y/N, what are you doing here?" He asks, head tilting and eyes reflecting every bit of the confusion and innocence a wrongly convicted man would have. You knew better, though.

"Why do you think, Billy?" You ask, frustrated. Billy stands, grabbing onto the bars and pressing himself to them.

"Y/N, please, I didn't do this. You have to tell Sid." He says, but it doesn't work on you.

"What's your favorite scary movie?" You ask, biting your cheek as you glare at him. It's what he had asked you the second you had answered his second call. Carrie, you had told him, and he had liked that answer.

You can see in his eyes, just before he's able to mask it, the flash of recognition. It simultaneously made your heart skip and your stomach churn. You were ashamed that you couldn't tell whether it upset or excited you. It had been Billy all along, then.

"What—," He starts, before cutting himself off. He removes a hand from the bars to run it through his hair, "What are you talking about?"

You scoff. He's going to continue with this charade, then. Even though he's been caught, and after months of getting to know you through calls, he still refuses admit it to you in person. You bury the hurt under the images of Casey and Steve, mangled, and the image of your friend shaking in the hands of Tatum.

"Sorry the cops caught you," You say, backing away from the bars, "I guess you were just new and easy, huh?"

You don't look back at him as you quickly turned and rushed through the double doors. Sidney, Tatum, and Dewey were nowhere to be seen when you stepped into the bullpen. You make a beeline to the backdoors, where you assumed Dewey would've taken the girls.

As you step out, you're immediately surrounded by reporters, who are surrounding your friends. Just as you push through the crowd and come to stand next to Tatum, Sidney swings around and punches one of the reporters, Gale Weathers.

"Holy shit, Sid!" You shout, jaw dropping into a wide smile of disbelief. Tatum quickly grabs both of your arms, leading you away to the car Dewey had just pulled up.

"Sid— SuperBitch!" Tatum says, holding a stuffed animal in her lap. You laugh next to her. Sidney lays on the bed next to Tatum's, staring off thoughtfully. You're all dressed for bed, your hair still damp from your shower.

"I thought you might want some ice for that right hook," Dewey says, appearing in the doorway and tossing Sidney a bag of ice. She sits up, holding the ice to her hand, "I'll be right next door. Try to get some sleep."

"Any word on my dad?" Sidney asks hopefully. You frown, your heart hurting for your friend. She'd been through so much the last few days, and the guilt of being a part of that was eating you alive.

"Not yet, but we're looking. If you need anything. . .," Dewey replies.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah." Tatum says, prompting Dewey to close the door on his way out. Sidney lays back down, her eyes still far off in thought.

"Just another sleepover at the Riley's." She says.

"Just like old times, ain't it?" Tatum smiles.

"No, nothing's like it used to be." Sidney replies. You look down at your lap, legs crossed with your hands tucked in the middle of them. It's your fault nothing is like it used to be.

You almost begin to wish you had died that night Billy had called. Maybe he wouldn't have killed anyone else. Maybe he and Sid could've continued with their perfect relationship and your friends could've lived on happily. Despite these all consuming thoughts, a part of you was grateful to have not died that night.

Your caller, Billy, had become someone you cared about. Someone you loved, despite it all. It was still hard to believe. You had never interacted with Billy in person. It's hard to believe that you had known him this whole time, and so intimately. Billy Loomis, Sidney's perfect boyfriend.

"Do you really think Billy did it?" Tatum asks, looking at Sidney.

"He was there, Tatum." Sidney says dejectedly. Tatum turns to you, raising an eyebrow.

"I trust Sid's judgement." You say, shrugging.

"I knew the guy was too perfect. He was destined to have a flaw." Tatum says, shaking her head.

There's a knock at the door, Mrs. Riley, and soon Sidney is leaving the room to answer the phone. Even though you know Billy is behind bars, you instinctively stand and follow Sidney, standing a few feet from her as you play with your fingers anxiously.

"Hello?" She answers. You aren't close enough to hear who is on the other line, but you know when you see Sidney's face scrunch.

"No!" She shouts, and you quickly come to her side. From here you can faintly hear the voice on the other side.

"Poor Billy-boyfriend. An innocent guy doesn't stand a chance with you." The voice taunts. You place a hand on Sidney's shoulder, and Tatum comes around as well.

"Leave me alone!" Sidney yells.

"Looks like you fingered the wrong guy. . . again." The caller says.

"Who are you?" Sidney asks.

"Hang up, Sid." Tatum says. You don't say anything, just listening to the voice on the other end. Your mind is scattered, feeling like a puzzle mixed with all the wrong pieces.

"Don't worry. You'll find out soon enough. I promise," The voice says. "This is gonna be fun, Sidney. Just like—"

Sidney's frozen, and just before the caller can finish his sentence, you grab the phone.

"Leave Sidney alone, you desperate piece of shit." You snap into the phone. You're angry; angry that this man had betrayed you, angry that he was harassing your friend, and angry that you had been stupid enough to let him.

"Hey, Doll," The voice says, mockingly friendly, "Having fun at your sleepover?"

"Get fucked." You say, hanging up on the caller. You turn to your friends, wondering if they had heard the pet name. They hadn't, though, both too consumed with Sidney's distraught. You throw the phone down just as Dewey runs out of his room. Sidney and Tatum turn for the bedroom, and you follow.

The next morning you split from your friends as soon as you enter the Woodsboro High campus. You were trying to be there for them, you really were, but your shame was only continuing to grow and being around them was becoming impossible.

They hadn't caught your caller. Nobody was safe. And you had possibly exposed your relationship with the killer to Sidney's boyfriend.

You're moving quickly through the empty halls, head down, hoping to make it to your locker before students begin piling in for the morning. You're at your locker, digging through the contents when you hear a throat clear. Looking around, the hallway is empty. Looking around once more, you find long legs that disappear behind your open locker door.

The last person you expected to be waiting behind your locker door was Billy Loomis, but there he was. You fought the urge to jump. He was wearing a wrinkled white t-shirt, his hair equally as messy. He's looking at you intently, and makes no move to say the first word.

"Billy, hey," You start awkwardly. Had he made the connection between your conversation with him and everyone's belief that he had been the killer? Was he here to confront you? "Listen, about yesterday, I'm really sorry. I was sure they had caught you— or, the killer, I mean. I shouldn't have bothered you."

Billy leans against the lockers next to yours, and the way he's looking down at you is bordering on intimate.

"Thanks, Y/N. I appreciate that," He says. You look around nervously, quietly hoping one of your friends would appear to save you, "You're the only person who's said that."

You fidget under his gaze, unsure of what he expects out of this conversation. If he's trying to make you squirm, it's working.

"It's Psycho, by the way," He says, and when you scrunch your eyebrows in confusion, he adds, "My favorite scary movie."

He pushes off of the lockers, leaving before you can reply.

You stand there for a moment, frozen. Maybe it's a coincidence, but could it be?

It's Pyscho, by the way. My favorite movie.

And just a few weeks before, your caller had said something far too similar.

You haven't watched Psycho? Hitchcock is a genius!

[seldomsloane]

TOXIC

Summary: AU where Stu and Billy get away with it. Once in college, becoming enthralled with the same person leads to a toxic love triangle none of you are sure you can leave. AFAB reader. WC:2.5k A/N: I kinda hate this. Also not proofread, soz. WARNINGS: 18+ content (nsfw), dub-con, oral (f receiving)

Masterlist

The first time you kissed Stu had been during a party. It was a childish game of truth or dare, spurred by the copious amounts of alcohol consumed by yourself and your friends. The dare had hardly been out of your best friend's mouth before yours was on Stu's. He had stumbled from the force of which you had thrown yourself on him, but he nevertheless caught you in his arms. He had always held his alcohol better than the rest of you.

Your arms wrapped around his neck, lips sloppily moving against his. Any other person would have been grossed out by your messy, drunken kiss, but Stu accepted it greedily. Every move you made was challenged by his own, nipping, licking, and sucking. His hands moved from your waist, dipping lower to feel you through your jeans. It was only when your groups cheers had faded into groans that you allowed yourself to slip out of his arms, drunk on much more than alcohol.

You had smiled at each other, feeling as though you were in on your own inside joke. Billy, however, glared over the rim of his cup as he chugged it. He had watched the entire thing, anger and jealousy clawing at his chest. You were friends. You were all friends. But you were his. Stu didn't deserve to feel you, not before he had.

So, the first time you kissed Billy had been later that night. Billy had insisted on walking you back to your dorm—without Stu. Your roommate had gone home for the weekend, so when the key had slipped in the lock and the door was pushed open, you grabbed onto the collar of Billy's white t-shirt and jerked him inside. You both stumbled, it was dark and you were once again drunkenly forcing your weight on anything that could take it, Billy included.

Eventually you had fallen against your desk, turning your back to it to face Billy. This close, you could see how the alcohol had effected him. His eyes rimmed in red, pupils dilated. You could smell the alcohol coming off of him. He was close. His arms reached around each side of you, bracing against the desk. Neither of you moved or broke eye contact, drunkenly taking in each other. You felt his body slowly press against you. He was warm.

And then he was on you. His lips aggressively taking yours, he shoved his hands into your hair. You didn't have time to move your lips against his, or even think about whether you should be doing it, because his tongue was already exploring your mouth. Your hands reach up, balling his shirt into your fists tightly. His hold on your hair tightened painfully, like he was scared you might slip away. You felt his hips slowly grind into you, needy and demanding.

You moaned, a deep, drunken, feral thing. It would've been embarrassing if it hadn't effected him the way it had. He matched your moans, equally as deep and feral sounding. His hips became quicker, harder, his hipbone digging into yours painfully. You press onto your toes, trying to sit on top of your desk, but falling short. Noticing this, Billy roughly wraps his hands under your thighs and shoves you onto the desk, a mess of papers and pens scattering across your floor. He leans over the desk, looming over you as he continues to devour your lips.

Quickly it became a mess of teeth clashing. You reach for Billy's shirt, pushing it up his chest. He raises his arms, allowing you to pull it over his head and toss it to the side. He looks good. He's lean, muscled, and sweating. The moonlight washes in from the window and highlights the dips and bulges of his muscular chest. If you weren't so blackout drunk you might've been able to see it, but every movement was a blur and spin of color and pleasure.

Billy pauses for a moment, staring into your eyes. His chest rises and falls quickly. His head is tilted down, eyes boring into yours through his eyebrows. He looked starved, so it's no surprise that instead of reconnecting his mouth with yours, he begins roughly ripping your tank top off of you. As soon as it's over your head, his mouth is latched onto your chest. You expect kisses, sucking, licking. You yelp loudly when his first contact with your flushed skin is a sharp bite. It's hard, but quick, and soon he's pulling his head away to admire the mark. Then he's back, soothing the sting with his tongue and lips.

He slowly works his way up your neck, licking a line up to your ear and aggressively sucking on the trail of saliva he left. He bites your ear, distracting you from his hands that unclasp your bra. You don't miss the support for long, because his hands are there before the cool air can hit them. His hands are massaging, groping, exploring. His mouth presses against yours again, somehow more demanding than it was before. He gropes and kisses your body as if it has always been his, because it has.

You reciprocate his kiss quickly. Your lips move with his, your tongue tangling with his, and your teeth bite down on his lips hard. He hisses, pulling his hand away from your chest to grab your hips, landing a rough smack on your right thigh. His teeth bite down on your lip much harder than yours had. Then, his hands are quickly undoing the button on your jeans and pulling them down your legs. He follows your pants, lowering down onto his knees in front of you. You fall back against the wall, trying to gulp down as much air as possible.

You're exposed, in nothing but your panties. Billy 's there, in front of them, holding your thighs apart with his hands. It's only when his fingers inch into the lace border of your panties that you snap out of your drunken daze.

"Billy," You gasp, hands reaching down to grab onto his hair and force him to look at you, "We shouldn't. We should stop."

Billy looks up at you, expression unreadable until his eyes narrow. You can tell you've upset him, but you knew you couldn't continue. You had already kissed your other best friend tonight, you couldn't hook up with a second one. Besides, you weren't sure if your friendships could stay the way they were if you didn't stop now.

"Why not?" He asks, his pointer finger playing with the lace you just stopped him from moving. His eyes are still narrowed, and he slightly tilts his head as if to challenge you to come up with an excuse good enough to pull him from his knees. You throw your head back to stare at the ceiling, trying to conjure up reasons to stop with a mind full of thoughts about not stopping.

"I mean we're friends, and—," You pause, looking down at Billy to assess his reaction, "And, um, Stu."

Billy's eyes are no longer challenging you. Instead, his face drops into a look that makes you fear that he just accepted a challenge you didn't even know you were giving.

"What does Stu have to do with anything?" He snaps, fingers still playing with the lace. He's getting rougher, tearing the stitches in the intricately designed lace.

"I mean, it would just. . it could upset him." You say, but you're doing a shit job at even convincing yourself.

"Shut the fuck up." Billy says as his fingers finally manage to completely tear your panties from your hips.

His mouth is on you before you can say anything else. Your grip on his hair tightens and his hands move to hold the insides of your thighs open.

"Billy!" You shout, unable to form any word but his name. His fingers tighten around your thighs painfully in response to the sound.

He wasn't gentle or slow. He didn't give you time to adjust to his movements or speed. He just devoured you, lapping and sucking as if he had a point to prove. You look down at him, his hair a mess from your hands and his eyes staring directly up at you. There's no pause or break in his movements, and pretty soon you feel a pressure build inside you.

"Wait, Billy, I'm—holy fuck!" You try, and fail, to persuade him to stop. You throw your head back, eyes squeezed shut, hoping to fight against the feeling building in your stomach.

He's still shifting between sucking and nipping at you when you feel two fingers slip inside of you. He moves them in and out quickly, curling them up just enough to hit your spot. Without his hand holding your left thigh open, you're able to close your thighs tightly around his head before his free hand can stop you.

It doesn't slow him down, though. The pressure in your stomach is finally too much, and you can't do anything to ignore it anymore. You throw your head back, knocking it against the wall in the process, but it's hardly registered because of the explosive feeling of your orgasm that Billy was currently riding out with his tongue and fingers.

You slump back, unable to hold up your limbs that feel suddenly too heavy to lift. Billy removes his fingers, but is still lapping at your mess. He's being much more gentle, focused on coaxing you down from your high and savoring the taste of your cum on his tongue.

When he's finished, you finally lift your head to stare at him through hooded eyes. He rises from his knees, chest heaving. His eyes never leave yours as he brings an arm up and uses the back of his hand to wipe your juices from his face.

The room is silent, save for the panting coming from both of you. You stare at each other, long enough for you to catch your breath. Billy moves to you suddenly, grabbing your jaw with his hand and lifting your lips to his.

"You are mine. Not Stu's. Not anyone's, but mine." He says, right before he collides his mouth with yours. His tongue is immediately in your mouth, exploring and tangling with your own. You can taste yourself on him, but you can hardly bring yourself to care when he's kissing you like this.

"Say it." He says after pulling his lips from yours.

You don't try to argue, you just nod weakly, trying to build to energy to form words.

"I'm yours."

"Hey, pretty girl!" A familiar voice shouts as a heavy arm is wrapped around your shoulder.

"Fuck, Stu, you scared me." You reply, looking up at the tall boy smiling down at you.

You had just left class when Stu found you. It was Monday, and you've been avoiding your two best friends since Friday. You weren't sure how to act around them or what to say to them now that you knew what both of their tongues felt like. So far you had managed two classes without running into them, but Stu had just caught you after your last one, and you were anxious to see what plans he had for you.

"Where have you been, yo, I've been trying to reach you all weekend." He says.

With his arm around you, he's able to steer you off of your original path and towards the fountain in the quad. It was his and Billy's favorite spot, and suddenly your stomach was twisting itself in knots. You wondered if he was waiting for you and Stu there. You wondered if Stu knew what Billy did or that he was the reason for it. You hoped they were both to drunk to remember what had happened.

As you came closer to the fountain, Billy was, as expected, sitting on the fountain edge. There were a couple people scattered on the other side, but none of your other friends sat with Billy. Stu's arm was still around your shoulder as you got closer, causing Billy to finally look up. At the sight of you and Stu so close, Billy's jaw tightened, but you were the only one to notice.

"Just been busy. Studying, y'know?" You say half-heartedly, chest beating wildly as if you were being led to your death. Stu's hand comes up to ruffle your hair, something you always told him not to do.

"No, Y/N, I can't say I do," He jokes, sticking the tip of his tongue out at you. He leans his head on top of yours as you finally reach the fountain, "Look who I finally tracked down, Billy."

Stu guides you to sit next to Billy, placing you directly in between the both of them. You sit facing forward, awkwardly fiddling with your fingers. Both boys sit on either side of you, bodies turned to you. Stu's eyes flicker between you and Billy, and you recognize that look. It's the face he makes when he has something planned that nobody else knows.

"How was class?" Billy asks casually, though his eyes are anything but. From the way he looks at you, you can tell that what he did to you in your dorm is fresh on his mind. You're sure he doesn't care how your classes went. He just wants to see you squirm.

"It was fine, cellular metabolism and all that." You smile awkwardly, doing everything in your power to avoid eye contact.

Stu's arm slings around your shoulder once more as he leans in closer, playing it as though he wanted closer to the conversation. Billy's eyes lock onto the action, and Stu's cocky demeanor doesn't go unnoticed by you or Billy. As if responding to Stu's actions, Billy places a hand on your thigh, leaning in.

"Are you okay, Y/N? We haven't heard from you all weekend." He says in mock sincerity.

You begin to squirm, caught between Billy's hand and Stu's arm. Stu watches Billy's hand, and then your reaction, and you can sense a shift in him. He's no longer cocky, but unsure and confused. For all he knew, you and him had an enjoyable tongue sesh on Friday. He didn't know that you had an arguably much more enjoyable tongue sesh later that night with his best friend.

"I'm fine, Billy," You say quickly. You can sense that there's a tension building between the three of you and, like the coward you are, you shot up from your seat, "I have to go. I have. . . office hours. See you guys later, yeah?"

You borderline jog off, hoping to get away before the tension bubbling beneath the surface finally breaks. You don't wait to hear if they responded, and you don't stick around to hear what they say to each other. One last peak behind you before you turn the corner fills your stomach with a sense of dread.

You see Stu and Billy, no longer sitting casually on the fountain, but standing inches from each other's faces, arguing.

[seldomsloane]

OBSESSION-PART TWO

Summary: Answering the phone can be a slippery slope when the caller is a killer with an obsession. Be careful who you anger. WC:2.6K A/N: I honestly didn't expect anyone to care for part one, so I was really excited to write this! I'm a little hesitant to write anything overly 18+ for this series, but it could be a possibility for future parts! Not proofread, so go easy on me. Masterlist

Casey and Steve are dead. The coincidence isn't lost on you. Every Wednesday, you and your stranger spoke. Except for the last few Wednesdays, where you ignored every attempt he made to reach you. You could tell he was frustrated, maybe even angry, especially on the nights where your phone never stopped ringing. You could handle a clingy caller, but this was different.

Hearing your name roll off the stranger's tongue was unnerving. He wasn't supposed to know you just as much as you didn't know him. The idea that the caller had known the whole time, had maybe even sought you out purposefully, was terrifying. It wasn't thrill or excitement, it was pure terror. Avoiding his calls was all you could do. Maybe it's what saved you.

You weren't sure what could save you now. It had to be your caller who killed Casey and Steve, you were certain of it. But now that you knew what he was capable of, you didn't know whether it was more damning to answer his calls or ignore them. The worst part was that the call didn't even come the next day. It was a Thursday after all, and he only called on Wednesdays. Still, you felt the anxiety gnaw at you as the day went on.

After classes, your group once again met by the fountain. This time, you sat next to Sidney, rubbing her arm comfortingly. It might've even been comforting you a bit. You weren't listening to the conversation, staring off into the distance while you bit your lip.

You could feel eyes on you, heavy and unrelenting. Billy, obviously. He seemed off today, more-so than the usual vibe you got from him. You chalked it up to him being worried about Sidney during this ordeal, and since he always seemed put off by you, he was probably unhappy with the support you were offering her.

Thinking of Billy, you look up, meeting his eyes. Like you had guessed, he was staring, eyes slightly narrowed. It would've made you nervous, if you didn't have a bigger issue at hand. Your stranger knows you have a mobile, and really they could call anytime. The fact that they hadn't yet led you to two conclusions. He was either toying with you, or he had been in class, just like you. Suddenly your stranger felt much closer than you had thought.

You’re pulled from your thoughts when Sidney abruptly leaves. You look around at your friends, trying to figure out what had happened. Stu’s giggling, tongue sticking out. Tatum is annoyed, but when isn’t she when it comes to Stu? Randy’s staring off after Sidney. You turn to your right, now sitting alone between Billy and Stu. Billy’s looking down, obviously irritated, but when he lifts his head he looks downright murderous.

Billy reaches over you quickly to hit Stu. It’s a quick, instinctual action, but you feel his arm graze your chest and then your shoulder. You chalk the flipping in your stomach up to the anxiety your caller has instilled in you.

“Liv- Ow! Liver. Liver. It was a joke!” Stu shouts, looking around until his eyes land on you. He looks at you expectantly, probably hoping to at least get a laugh out of someone.

“Don’t be a dick, Stu.” You say, rolling your eyes and standing up to leave. Even if you hadn’t heard what he had said, it was probably too far and it had upset Sidney. You weren’t in the mood for jokes, anyways.

Later that day you sat in your bedroom, anxiously gnawing at your fingers while you stared at your phone. He’d call. He had to. You were more than sure that Casey and Steve were his doing, so why hadn’t he called? You had so many questions, if only he’d call.

You were just about to throw your mobile against the wall out of frustration when it finally rang. You hadn’t even glanced at the name, just picked it up and placed it against your ear.

“Hi, Doll.” The voice comes through, but not the same as before. Your caller had always been mysterious, sure, but he had become a friend. This voice wasn’t a friend, it was cruel and confident.

“What did you do?” You ask, unable to fake pleasantries with someone you were sure was a murderer.

“What do you mean?” He replies, and you know he’s taunting you, but fuck is it working.

“Casey and Steve, why? What did they do to you?” You ask angrily. The cool air blowing in from your bedroom window does nothing to ease the heat crawling in your skin this time.

“Maybe if you had answered they’d be alive right now. Poor Casey. Guess she won’t be making prom queen, huh?”

“You fucker! That.. that wasn’t my fault.” You shout, unable to convince even yourself.

If you were being honest, it was a thought that had gnawed at you all day. If you had answered, would they be alive right now? If you had never even picked up in the first place, would you? A thought crossed your mind, and before your caller can say anything, you’re gripping the phone a little tighter.

“Did you call them like you called me? Was I supposed to die?” You ask, thinking back on that first call. It had ended so fast you had chalked it up to a wrong number, and you were surprised when the calls kept coming. You almost hit yourself now thinking about it. You seriously needed a refresher on stranger danger.

“It doesn’t matter.” Your caller says after a moment.

You scoff, because of course it matters, he just can’t admit it. You were supposed to die all those weeks ago. Every breath you took and every call you received after the fact had been a mercy from him.

“It matters to me. Why? What did we do to you? Who else is going to die?” You ask.

The voice groans, a sound that makes you realize you hadn’t even known his real voice. It was being altered by a voice changer, and it hadn’t picked up the small sound. You’re so angry with him, and you hope he feels it too.

“You’re not like them. You were just.. new and easy. I didn’t know you yet.”

His voice is vulnerable and frustrated. You’d almost be flattered at how quickly you were able to tear down his walls, if he wasn’t a psychotic murderer.

“New and easy,” You scoff, laughing humorlessly. You were scared of him, sure, but you weren’t going to sit around on a phone flirting with him when he’s probably got your murder all figured out by now, “Fuck that and fuck you. If you have a problem with me then handle it with me. The cops will catch you either way.”

You hang up the phone, tossing it across the room. You run your hands through your hair, tugging at the strands in frustration. What the fuck had your life become? Chatting with a stranger on the phone? Threatening someone who could gut you without batting an eye?

You make your way downstairs, checking the time as you go. 4:30PM. You're antsy, nervous, borderline stir crazy. Every second in your house feels like a prisoner waiting for their execution. You step out of your back door, looking out into your back yard.

A large pool glistens in the center of the yard, and further beyond that is the pool house. It's calm, quiet, and almost relaxing. Despite it being Fall, the water promised a respite from the swirling thoughts in your head. A dip in the pool after threatening a murderer was dumb, sure, but it didn't compare to the fact that you had already befriended said murderer.

Closing the door behind you, you pull your shirt over your head. You slowly allow your shorts to slip off as you reach the edge of the pool. Clad in nothing but your matching white underwear, you stare down at the water, before allowing yourself to slowly lean forward until the water surrounded you. You let yourself sink to the bottom of the pool for a minute.

The water is freezing, but effective in calming your nerves. You stretch your arms and swim towards one end of the pool. Once you feel your hands meet the concrete wall, you push your head up and out of the water. You barely have a second to catch your breath before you feel pressure on the top of your head, plunging you back down into the water.

You fight the urge to swallow the water, arms and legs flailing wildly around you. The water is too deep for you to stand, and something is holding you firmly in the water. Your hands grip at it, a wrist, trying to push it off of you. You're just about to give up resisting the urge to breathe when both of your hands lock around the large wrist and then pull hard.

You feel the pressure release from the top of your head followed by a loud splash behind you. You break the surface of the water, gasping wildly for air. You don't bother turning to see who it was, you know who it was. You just didn't think he'd come so soon. You grab onto the ledge of the pool, lifting yourself halfway out of the water. Before you can move further, large arms wrap around your waist tightly. Your hands slip from you and you fall back into the water. Your attacker pulls you closer and tighter to him, forcing your arms to your body in the process.

"Get off me!" You scream, struggling wildly. He doesn't let go, but he doesn't speak either.

When you realize your arms are nowhere strong enough to push him off, you make a last ditch effort to free yourself by slamming the back of your head into his face. You expected it to hurt, but fuck you did not expect to connect with hard plastic. With a throbbing migraine blooming, and your body finally free, you push forward and this time manage to pull yourself out of the pool.

You throw yourself down onto the cement, dripping wet and crawling away on your hands and knees. Once you reach the grass, you flip over onto your bottom, hands supporting your weight. You gasp for breath, chest heaving quickly as you stare at the pool. The water is calm, and you can't see your attacker from where you sit. But you wait, because your caller—your attacker—is not one to give up.

You were right, because you knew him. You see two hands, covered in black leather, rise and grip the ledge of the pool. Your breath is knocked from you as you watch your attacker rise from the water. He's cloaked in black, which clings to his body in its soaking wet state. He wears a white mask, frozen in a terrifying scream that has a large crack down the center. Though you can't see his eyes, you know he is looking at you.

He's out of the water sooner than you'd like. He stalks towards you slowly. His chest is also heaving, but you can't tell whether it's from the struggle or anger. You sit there, letting him approach you. Where could you run? It's not like you were going to rush to the neighbors in your soaking wet underwear.

"Did you just fucking headbutt me?" The voice asks, without a voice modulator. You struggle to try to recognize the voice, but between the rushing in your ears and the coarseness of his voice, you can't make anything out.

"You tried to kill me!" You scream, staring up at the figure who now stood over you. You were shocked at his audacity to be upset with you for defending yourself against his literal murder attempt, but you're grateful that at least now he seemed more focused on arguing than fighting.

"I wasn't trying to kill you! You just— I needed to teach you a lesson." He says finally. His voice is rough and cracking. His gaze is unyielding, you can feel the heat of it roaming over your exposed body despite not being able to see it over the mask. You roll your eyes.

"Teach me your lesson, then." You say sarcastically. You weren't sure what was going through his head. He stood over you, which intimidated you to no end, but you didn't see any weapons on him, so your confidence grew. You could take him in a fight. You just had, underwater no less. You were prepared.

He lowers slowly, coming to his knees in front of you. He leans forward, his right arm pressing against the grass at your side. He's close, the mask mere inches from your face. You refuse to break your stare, analyzing every movement in anticipation for another attack. His left hand comes up, too slow to be an attack. It presses against the center of your chest, and then it's pushing you to lay back onto the grass. For some reason, you let him.

He's laying on top of you now. Neither of you move for a moment, and suddenly the urge to remove his mask has you forcing your hands down to your sides. One hand rests by your head and the other, covered in black leather, rests on your waist. It slowly rises, following the curve of your side until it rests on your jaw. You're breathless, but for all the wrong reasons.

Steeling yourself, you reach a hand up to rest over his, and then tentatively pinch the tip of a finger to pull the glove off. He doesn't stop you. Soon, his cool skin is exposed and once again pressed to your jaw.

You knew it was wrong, just as much as you knew that talking to a stranger on the phone was wrong, but suddenly you couldn't bring yourself to recall any of the reasons you should be shoving him off of you. You stared at the crack in his mask, tan skin that matched his exposed hand peeking through.

"You're mine. I won't let you leave me," He says, and still you can't place his voice. It's frustrating, almost as frustrating as how your body reacts to your caller's words, "I love you."

"Who are you?" You ask. You have to know, the anticipation of it all was beginning to be too much.

"You have to wait. It will all be okay if you just wait." He says, but it's not enough for you.

You reach your hand up, gripping the mask and intending to finally get a look at your caller. Suddenly, it's as if he had never held you or declared his love. His whole demeanor shifts. His hand grabs your wrist tightly and you release his mask on instinct.

"Wait." He says, his voice devoid of any emotions. He releases your wrist roughly, letting it fall back onto the grass.

He stands to leave. He lingers for a moment, looking over your body one last time before he turns and leaves. You let him. You're not sure why, but you do.

You lay in the grass, soaking wet and cold, for what felt like hours. You didn't sit up until you heard your landline ringing from inside. You turn your head to where your back door is slightly ajar.

When you answer, it's Tatum.

"Y/N, can you come over? Sidney's sleeping over and she needs you. The killer attacked her. . . Y/N, it was Billy."

[seldomsloane]

OBSESSION

Summary: Answering the phone can be a slippery slope when the caller is a killer with an obsession. Be careful who you anger.

A/N: Little blurb that was on my mind, might make this a series eventually, let me know what you think! Masterlist

You knew it was wrong. Even from the first call you'd known. However, your life had been severely lacking in excitement and the deep voice that threatened to deliver just that had come at the perfect time.

You had just moved to Woodsboro a week before the first call came. It was late, and the house was empty. You were lounging on the couch, flipping through tapes for your impromptu movie night. When the phone rang you hadn't thought much of it. Pressing it against your ear with your shoulder, your eyes never left the movies in your hands.

"Hello?"

"Hi."

"Uh, who's this?" You asked, eyebrow quirking at the flirtatious tone.

"You first."

"As if." You snort, tossing the movies to the side and rolling onto your stomach.

"Aw, come on."

"Ohh, yeah, beg for it." You snort back. After a beat of silence, you try again.

"Did I scare you away?" You ask teasingly. The voice doesn't respond, and shortly after you hear the click of the call ending.

The calls never really ended there, though. Every Wednesday night, like clockwork, the man called at 9 o'clock on the dot. Something you were saying must have kept him coming back, though the calls always ended with an abrupt hang up from the stranger. After a while, it was actually nice.

You didn't know his name and he didn't know yours, but you knew him. He was a horror movie fanatic, most calls were spent with him quizzing you, despite the fact that it always ended in a tie. He couldn't trip you up with his questions, and you could tell he liked that. You liked his jokes. He made you laugh, sometimes without even trying. He had a morbid sense of humor that only got worse every time you laughed, snorted, or giggled.

Over the weeks you had made friends at school. Sidney Prescott in your English class, Tatum Riley and Stu Macher who religiously cheat from your homework in Algebra, and Randy Meeks who always has a movie recommendation. Even Sidney's boyfriend, Billy Loomis, could be considered a friend if you squint hard enough.

But the caller was your favorite. Maybe it was sad, maybe it was pathetic, but you couldn't stop yourself from picking up the phone every time it rang.

"Hey there, stranger." You answer once again on a Wednesday night. There's a smile on your face, and you push your homework to the side, giving the caller your undivided attention, unlike your first call. Pathetic.

"Hi, Doll."

"What are you up to tonight?"

"Was watching some movies. Made me think of you."

You smile widens as you step away from your desk and throw yourself onto your bed. You lay on your side, facing your open bedroom window. It's dark out, so you can't see much, but the wind blows cool air into your room that feels good against your warm skin.

"Yeah? Which movie?"

"Carrie."

"Ah, my favorite. I'm flattered."

You knew you were flirting. It had become natural after a while. Still, a flicker of shame passed through you. You didn't know who you were flirting with. He could be your principal for all you knew. You just couldn't help yourself.

"You should be. I missed you."

You don't know what to say for a moment. Your calls were teasing, banter, beating around feelings that you had hoped were there. There were never open declarations, though. This was new. You could tell he was coming to the same realization, because for a while the only sounds between you were slow breaths.

"I, uh, missed you too," You say slowly, fingers playing with the corner of your blanket. And then, deciding to push the limit, you ask, "When can I meet you?"

He doesn't answer.

"Oh, come on. It's been months of talking and I don't even know your name. Are you seriously going to hide behind the phone forever? What if I stop picking up?" Your voice raises as you sit up in your bed. You're angry. Of course you are. The caller has strung you along for weeks now, and eventually the thrill and anticipation had begun to feel more like rejection.

Again, he doesn't answer.

"Whatever." You say, pulling the phone away to hang up.

"Y/N-,"

Silence. You pull the phone back to your ear, half expecting to hear the click of your caller hanging up. He's quiet, not even the sound of his breathing reaches your ear.

"You know my fucking name?" You ask in quiet anger. This whole time you spoke under the assumption that you both knew nothing of each other. Maybe he didn't want to meet because he was scared. But he did know you, and the betrayal of it all stung. He just didn't want to.

You hung up before he could answer. Fuck him.

It's over a week later when you find yourself laying across the fountain with your friends. Your head lays on Tatum's lap, your legs across Randy's. You're tired. It's a Thursday, meaning your stranger had called you the night before. Only this time, you didn't answer. Your stranger is persistent, though, because he called again and again. You hoped he was frustrated. He deserved it.

"Fun night?" Tatum asks, smirking down at you as she plays with your hair.

"The funnest." You smirk back, shielding the sun from your eyes with your hand.

"Oh really? What kept our sweet Y/N up so late?" She asks.

"More like who." Stu chimes in, leaning his head on Tatum's shoulder to look down at you.

You shrug, refusing to answer even when Stu's jaw dramatically dropped. Let them have their perverted thoughts, it's a much better story than the sad truth.

You tilt your head to peak up at Sidney, who is undoubtably tucked away quietly with her boyfriend, but also likely to be amused by the conversation. You're not surprised to find Sidney smiling at you amusedly. You are surprised to find her boyfriend's eyes staring intensely at you from over her shoulder. It wouldn't be so unnerving if he would at least smile, but he's looking at you like your existence has personally offended him.

You send Sidney a smile back and then turn away. You didn't know Billy enough to have a solid opinion on him. He was handsome, that's obvious, so you could see what attracted Sidney to him. Outside of his looks, Billy avoided you like the plague. If you ever ended up alone, he was gone before you could realize it. When your group met up like this, his only acknowledgement of you were quiet glances and nothing more. You didn't take offense to it, although it did make you a little uneasy.

Weeks went by. The stranger still called, every Wednesday at 9PM like clockwork. You never answered. It was upsetting him, you could tell. Some nights he gave up after the first time, others he called again and again until you buried your mobile deep into your closet to get some peace.

He never missed a Wednesday. Until he did on September 25th, and shortly after the news broke. Casey Becker and Steve Orth were murdered.