the entity clicked and grumbled, black foggy tendrils circling your waist and depositing you in the woods. you saw the survivors’ camp, the sad fire they’d built as a source of warmth, probably the first bout of heat they’d had in a while.
you tensed at the eerie shuffling of feet behind you and the pause in motion, eyes barely shifting back to greet the ghostface.
danny johnson loved getting paired with you.
the soft huff you’d release upon seeing him, the way you twisted your dual flails in your hands before strapping them on your back.
“don’t you just love when ol’ entity puts us together, sweetness?” he cooed as he leapt over, arms tossing over your shoulders. the hard plastic of his mask dug into your shoulder, “must be hungry…”
you turned your head when he lifted his mask, the symbolic face hidden beneath the hood of his cloak. danny had such a pretty face.
dark hair, tan skin, eyes that swirled with serene insanity and a flicker of love that he only had for you.
his knife pressed into your thigh from its holster, his gloved hands redirecting your attention back to him. “you never come see me when we’re all resting,” he pouted, “poor trapper misses his friend, y’know?”
“do you?” you quietly asked, feeling the leather of his gloves brush lovingly against your cheek. danny grinned, all teeth and sparkling eyes, “i always miss my girl.”
you heard the survivors shriek, gaze shifting from a now jealous ghostie to their terrified faces. “who you wantin’, lovie?” he asked, voice dipping into something colder, something secure, “know you’ve got rules for me.”
“i want her,” you murmured, recognizing the way she held herself in fear, the way her irises trembled, “she’s…new.”
“you’re so cute,” he laughed, watching them fuss over medkits versus flashlights, “so kind to the newbies. so sweet.” you flinched when his tongue dragged over a healed bite mark—his, of course—mask falling back over his features.
“got any tips for me, honey? know i got a real special one for you—“
“watch the pallets,” you mused, playfully flicking his mask as the black fog curled at your boots, “you always get hit.” danny’s shoulders dropped, lovesickness visible even when he was disguised in full attire.
his voice was swept away by the entity, and you reappeared within the walls of the raccoon city police department. you always hated this place—too many corners, endless hallways, the stench of rotted flesh.
but you had a job to do.
the entity hungers.
three hooks, two dead, three generators left.
not bad.
you’d held the hand of one, watching as the entity pried her body from the hook. you wiped the tears of another, their body limp in your lap. you’d turned away when you saw danny sat upon the spine of another, camera angled to capture their exhausted expressions.
you were in pursuit, watching poor, new survivor feng min scrabble around the offices and vault through broken windows. she dropped a pallet, and your flails shattered the wood with little to no issue.
you hoped danny was having better luck.
“get away!” she cried, standing on the opposite end of a broken table, “please..”
you tilted your head, propping the wooden sticks of your flails on your shoulders, spiked steel balls clinking behind your back. you hated when they begged.
you stared.
she wept.
then, you heard the soft rustle of a cloak.
“get out,” you muttered, “i told you i wanted her.”
he emerged next to you, knife and mask slick with blood. feng min shakily breathed, her only defense a pallet that rested idly next to you. you were sure the other two were on generators, until danny raised a gloved hand:
“3, 2, 1…” he counted off slowly.
a loud tome sounded through the trial, and you heard the distant whispers of an opened hatch.
she was the last alive.
you scanned her shaking body, frowning slowly when she began to round the table. danny watched you as he backed away, hidden eyes surely glimmering with amusement.
he always loved to watch you work.
the spikes clattered against the floor, soft sparks pricking the air. “let me leave, let me leave,” she whimpered, bloody hands gripping the front of her shirt.
you dashed.
your flail embedded itself into her skin.
“i’m sorry, i know it hurts,” you whispered.
she fell to the ground, sobbing as you dragged her across the filthy floors of the department. danny followed, quiet yet proud, pausing in confusion when you passed a hook.
feng min had stopped fighting.
you followed the whispers, the shift in the air—there. the silver hatch, black fog bubbling from it as you neared it.
feng min crawled to it, crying when you tore your weapon from her skin. your hands gently ran along her back, helping her shift pathetically to the inky exit. she turned back, breathing heavy and uneven as she observed danny prop himself against the doorframe, watching with something she couldn’t quite decipher. you stood over her beaten and shredded body, boot holding the hatch open.
“go.”
“can…” she coughed, “can i get you every time?”
you stared, cold heart aching.
she smiled weakly, “your hands are warm.”
she fell into the abyss, the hatch closing harshly upon her departure. the silence was broken by danny’s slow claps, and you flinched when he slammed you against the wall.
splintered wood dug into your spine, his gloved hand secure around your throat.
“you drive me fuckin’ insane.”
“i didn’t do anything,” you whispered, flails dropping to the stone next to you.
“blood all over you, spare dagger strapped to your thigh, yet you’re still the nicest person in this trial,” he murmured, voice laden with desire, “you’re cute. savin’ a pathetic little thing like her.”
“you wished i’d killed her,” you smiled.
“you robbed me of a proper show, lovie,” he whined, feeling the entity creep nearby, “gonna make it up to me later?”
you nodded, breathy when his hand tightened around your neck.
“might submit a request,” danny kissed your cheek, lips brushing over your ear, “ask boss to put us together all the time.”
he giggled, tongue dragging over the dotted blood on your cheek, “might fuck you into the ground after every trial…how’s that sound?”
!!Warnings: Gn Reader, toxic romance, obsessive behavior, manipulation, stalking, possessiveness, unhealthy relationship dynamics, murder mentions, ghostface being ghostface, smut, narcissism and generally poor life choices, eng not my native lang!!
!!Wc: per character around 320-750!!
Song Recs: Driving With My Darling, An Unhealthy Obsession, When You Find Me, Лицемер, My Moon My Man, Sinsirella, Me and Mr Wolf, Killer, Megalomaniac, Gallowdance, Fever, The Kill 2.
Doofy Gilmore
You'll only learn that he put the entire city and you—to sleep when he finally decides to leave. Though Doofy knows exactly how to convince you, so he's certain you won't abandon him. Especially after you fell in love with the foolish persona everyone mocked.
Ah, this man is the perfect balance between a green flag and a red flag. Your relationship was so sweet in the beginning that not falling for Doofy was impossible. No matter what anyone said, you couldn't help being drawn to this embarrassingly childish man whose head always seemed to be somewhere in the clouds.
No matter what anyone said, Doofy would never hurt you. The man who stole your heart was so harmless that you could trust him with your eyes closed.
Life with Doofy was strange, but it was never boring. No, Doofy and the word 'boring'' seemed to repel each other like opposite poles. Instead of your dates being in luxurious restaurants as a man might provide, it consisted of sitting at home and watching him incorrectly sweep up the popcorn he had spilled all over the floor. Most men concerned themselves with approving their partner's outfits, but with you it was the opposite—you spent your time laughing as he proudly showed off his police uniform.
Doofy was like the cure to some unknown illness. He always brought you strange yet beautiful gifts made with his own hands. When you noticed people looking at you with pity whenever you went out together, he noticed it too and despite having done nothing wrong, he would try his hardest to make up for it. It was impossible not to fall in love with that effort.
And really, that was exactly how it had to be. Doofy had analyzed you so thoroughly that you wouldn't even realize you were being manipulated. Especially when he straightened his hunched posture, removed his fake mustache, and walked toward you with a lit cigarette in hand—he had already predicted your next move.
He would handle your shock so effortlessly that before you even realized you had accepted what had happened, you'd only then notice that he had already kissed you and that you were sitting beside him in the car he was driving.
That's life—you never know what it will bring. Just yesterday your lover was someone whose cleaning obsessions you were dealing with, now he was a work of art you'd hesitate to look at twice while passing on the street. But don't worry. Just as you had taken good care of him, he would take good care of you. Because you had already proven that you would love him no matter what, and now it was his turn.
Well I wasn't actually going to touch on sexual topics, but it wouldn't feel right to leave them out entirely. No one can convince me that this man wouldn't make use of those old police handcuffs. And unfortunately, because his playful side has mostly faded into the past, you definitely shouldn't underestimate being handcuffed to a bed. Especially when he sits on his knees like a hunter looking at a meal, smoking a cigarette and leans toward you—who are lying there naked and handcuffed—to blow the cigarette smoke right at you.
"Oops, let me clean that up for you." after accidentally spilling cigarette ash onto your stomach, he'd lean down and sensually lick the ashes from your burning skin.
Amber Freeman
Has anyone ever told you that you're dating a ticking time bomb? If not, let me be before she back. On the surface Amber can seem like someone incredibly sweet, loyal and willing to burn the world down for the people she loves. But all she really gives those so called loved ones is a drop of her poison.
She'll act like she hates the thought of you getting hurt and to be honest, that's actually true. Oh and Amber has absolutely no respect for personal space. She'll want to drive you everywhere herself and you won't even be able to say no because of the warmth in that protective attitude of hers. But the truth is, it comes less from being a loving partner and more from her controlling nature.
Being without her is difficult but whenever she isn't around, she'll somehow learn exactly where you went, who you were with and who you talked to down to the very second. And every suspicious thing she does gets swept under the rug with the excuse of, "I care about you."
Amber's obsession is one of her most obvious traits. And if you're in a relationship with her, you're going to have to participate in her obsessions. According to her, the perfect ten out of ten date activity is getting together and attacking people on internet forums over whatever she'sobsessed on at the moment.
Ughh she escalates arguments ridiculously fast. One moment you're calmly talking about something small, and the next she's yelling and tearing the place apart. Still Amber is actually someone who can be handled—you just have to find that particular persuasive language that only she understands.
But to be fair, Amber is fiercely loyal to you. She'd take a bullet for you without a second thought.
I know this isn't ethical at all but for some reason whenever I think about sex with Amber, temperature play immediately comes to mind. Oops you know what I mean. I mean let's give credit where it's due—she died as a hot woman. She absolutely loves dripping warm candle wax onto your body or her in bed. I think it's called wax play or whatever the hell. The way that melted wax lightly burns your or her skin and draws out those small little moans drives her crazy. Or sudden changes in temperature, like tracing ice across your skin and then immediately kissing the same spot with warm breath, overwhelming your senses. Anyway ugh I actually don't like writing for women and I'm not very comfortable with it but at least I tried.
Ethan Landry
Oh my shaylaaa, your lover couldn't even hurt a butterfly. He gets flustered just by seeing you, and while he is hesitating about whether the smiles he offers you are good or not, how can you think he could do something bad.
He is always so polite, shy and respectful toward you. And especially those thoughtful conversations that come along with that sweet shyness. Maybe that's why you never saw him trying to win in arguments, and especially you never noticed how he blamed himself in a way to make you feel guilty. You were practically a blind person looking at it.
But actually, Ethan's mask will fall quite fast. Especially when he makes it clear that he thinks seriously about you, he will talk about this subject to his father one morning at breakfast. And when he is accepted by his father, this kid will practically go and find you skipping with joy.
Though, he doesn't have the intention to just dump all the truth on you with a straight conversation right away. He will definitely hunt you in the night, in the vulnerability brought by a nice bath. The good news is he won't introduce the knife to your organs, the bad news is you learned your lover is the psychopathic serial killer Ghostface. And the even worse news is that you learned the whole family consists of a pack of psychopaths chasing revenge for Richie, who got caught up in the previous Ghostface madness.
As someone sane you will definitely stay silent so that nothing gets shoved up your ass, anyway other than this new truth of Ethan, he doesn't have much harm to you. Yes this still doesn't change the fact that he is a psychopath, but at least he doesn't bite you.
But after he reveals his true face, you will see a horrific grudge and an inferiority complex accumulated over the years underneath that shy love of yours. Whereas in the past, when you were alone in the corners of the rooms and he whispered, "Nobody wants to take me among them," how you used to hug him and want to heal the broken child in your arms.
Even if he tries very hard, you will not be included in his work, of course sooner or later he will go and present the idea to his father and oh get ready for a dinner with your sweet father in law.
Congratulations, when is the wedding? Most likely after graduation. I congratulate your beautiful countryside wedding already.
This doesn't mean he will wait until the wedding to touch you. Nope, truthfully I am not sure about the sex subject because honestly I didn't understand him much and didn't care about him in the movie lol. But I think Ethan would love to go back and forth between two extremes. Sometimes he would bury into your neck sobbing and want you to praise him, to say nonsense like "You are so strong Ethan, you are my man" but immediately after, his eyes would roll back and he would pin you to the bed, rubbing how helpless you are into your face and forcing you to completely obey him. What can I say. Watching you tremble against his strength would inflate his ego.
In those famous crowded apartments in the movies, while the other roommates are sitting in the next room,he will catch you in the darkness of the hallway. Pressing you against the wall, he tightly presses his hand over your mouth and prevents your groans. With zero sound brought by the risk of those in the next room hearing and the fear of getting caught, talking only with your eyes, he will keep consuming you between that wall. My suggestion is, don't let him make a habit out of this, otherwise some time you will get caught by his father in his own house.
Roman Bridger
This is the kind of man who'd happily spend every cent he earns on you. He'd never let you lift a finger, never let your hands touch cold water if he could help it. He'd give you anything you wanted. He'd make sure you experienced only the finest, most luxurious things life had to offer. Of course alongside all that, he'd never stop talking about fine art, cinema and culture.
Especially about how criminally underappreciated he is. Unfortunately it doesn't stop there. In the relationship, the spotlight is always on his life and his problems. He still can't move past the fact that he was conceived through rape and honestly I wouldn't recommend bringing up the subject. Things could get ugly very quickly.
And that's not even touching on the wound his mother left behind. He's genuinely troubled and incredibly selfish about it. He won't even care how your day went. As far as he's concerned, it's always about his career, his fights with producers and the stress he's under.
Try approaching him like a mature adult and talking about his neglectful behavior, and you'll discover what a drama queen he really is. The slightest criticism sends him straight into defense mode,he takes offense unbelievably fast. In his mind the world is full of idiots who fail to appreciate his genius—and he'll eventually accuse you of being one of them too.
Alrightt let's ignore all of that for a moment and move on. Roman's massive victim complex is impossible to miss. Being rejected by his mother left him with a wound that never healed. As a result, he desperately wants complete loyalty and dependency from you. Not only that, but he'll deny you even the smallest amount of distance. Let even a tiny gap form between you and he'll immediately label it betrayal.
Truthfully, you tried breaking up with him a few times. The first time he didn't care,he was convinced you'd come back—and you did. The second time, he slammed the door and disappeared for a few days, so you quietly ended things while he was gone but somehow this bastard still managed to come back and win your heart back, bruh.
The third breakup...well let's just say you nearly ended up in a coma. Afterward, you spent an entire week being harassed by calls from unknown numbers. You told yourself they were prank calls, but your brain refused to relax. Eventually one night, Roman showed up at your house—not as your lover but as Ghostface—and a big altercation happened.
That night nearly drove you insane. But fortunately, as much as Roman wanted you dependent on him, he was even more dependent on you. He couldn't function without you, and he had no intention of losing you. All he had to do was rein you in.
He is the client and you are the masterpiece that needs shaping. He'll arrange everything exactly as he wants it—from the angle of the dim lighting in the room, to the tone of the classical music playing in the background, to the color and texture of the sheets destined to be ruined beneath you and on top of you. Don't even bother counting the bruises he'll leave on your body, he'll just add more by the next hour.
The most troublesome part is that, given the opportunity etc so if you can be, he'd absolutely be capable of baby trapping you. Everything you've ever seen about him stems from being an unwanted child, rejected by his mother. He's desperately hungry for a bond of his own blood, his own flesh and bone. And when you finally tell him you're pregnant, he'll be so happy that he can barely contain himself "Finally...I have a real family that's mine. One that will never leave me." he'll pull you into his arms, gently stroking your still flat stomach as he whispers those words to himself.
Stu Macher
Golden retriever energy but completely psychotic. Super fun on dates, but he is more loyal to his best friend than to you. Still that doesn't mean you can't change that, though. You'll just have to win over not only Stu, but Billy too, and convince them that you carry their so-called pain as well.
Unfortunately, both of their asses are glued to each other; you won't just be managing your lover—you'll be dealing with his best friend too. But hey, once they accept you, be ready to learn all of their nastiest secrets.
Stu absolutely has no filter, and once he starts being honest with you, it can become quite a trouble for you. He genuinely tells you everything. If it weren't about pulling out intestines and making death plans, it'd actually be kind of sweet.
Stu can make you laugh constantly. He practically can't sit still around you, the kind of guy who lifts you right off your feet and makes your world stop as if it were nothing. But even underneath Stu's cute jokes, there's something chilling. Especially because he has absolutely no sense of boundaries—during an argument, he might jokingly walk up on you.
Stu's the clown, and you're his queen. Always behind you, always popping out from a corner to cling to you, stealing little laughs from your lips with weird voices and strange tones. And like I said, Stu is way too unfiltered, the complete opposite of Billy. While Billy gets jealous in planned and sneaky ways, Stu would absolutely jump on the person trying to flirt with you in a corner somewhere. You'd never find out about it, though, so it's not that important.
Whatever this man is in normal life, he is the same in bed. Constantly changing positions, tossing you from one side of the bed to the other. He's genuinely unpredictable, and no offense, but he's an absolute animal. No, seriously—Stu gives off a vibe that he'd randomly bite you for no reason.
Fucking in upstairs rooms during parties, coming to fuck you after a murder he committed instead of Billy, and more. Stu isn't picky about the setting at all, as long as the two of you can be wrapped up in each other's arms. And that's not even mentioning how he constantly sticks his tongue out or uses the voice changer to alter his voice while talking dirty.
At one point in your relationship, Billy wanted to hurt you or make you one of the victims in the plan. That was the first time Stu ever raised his voice at Billy.
"No Billy, you can't touch them! We promised!" he shouted, breaking down into tears.
Mickey Altieri
You definitely must be loving common things, even if you don't love them he will find a way to make you love them.
Your dates will mostly pass with going to the best horror movies in theaters and discussing cinema theories until morning. Not to mention his yapyaping about the Stab movie during and after sex. But sometimes...
Sometimes in movie discussions, he defends the violence and the killer like a fanatic, that you fall into the doubt of whether this is a movie fandom or a truly troubled situation. Of coursee you don't have a relationship consisting only of movies.
He will make you live a relationship that everyone in that friend group will envy. He has a charisma that he shows to you separately. He is so flirtatious, energetic and protective that he is actually the exact ideal boyfriend.
He wants the media to think this way in the future too. After all his ultimate goal is to be caught and become the star of the crime world, and you will be the fooled sweet lover of the criminal on the court day. After all with him being a famous person, he expects you to draw the attention too. This means experiencing very hurtful manipulations in your life.
When the time comes and Mickey's mask falls, be ready to meet a pure psychopath who does evil knowingly and willingly. He is not that man you know, the one who took you into his arms and smothered you with kisses. Especially not his sarcastic comments about your stupidity. You will never understand if the stranger in front of you truly loved you or not.
Regarding sex, in my opinion Mickey loves to play the bad guy role in bed. Under the name of this role, you will even experience the shock of getting slapped, I am sorry. Or I am not whatever he has a habit of fucking you in front of the camera. Even if you express that you feel discomfort from this, he will continue to shoot. He knows no mercy on this subject, he even comes and says things like "What, so you want me to go and watch porn? And I thought you wanted me to stay faithful to you."
He loves setting up those professional video cameras he stole from the campus cinema room or backstages into the bedroom, and honestly you still didn't understand how he hasn't been caught. The first moment you get into bed and make out the cameras are not around, it becomes like this time he will truly keep his word and you will have a normal sex, but no. During the relationship he already starts to adjust the camera's angle with his one hand, he will place you right across that lens while you are absent minded with your swollen lips. He gets wild while watching the reflection of your bare skin on the camera,whispering into your ear "Look here baby, look inside the lens. This is our best scene..."
Quinn Bailey
Life is quite fun with this girl who lives sexuality and self confidence to their peaks. She knows well how to make you live the moment, if you are shy definitely be ready to break this by being dragged to parties. Because she is a total party girl and according to her by dating her you already knew what you were getting into.
If only you knew more. Especially that the person you thought was struggling with commitment fears actually made you a dog bound to herself. Unfortunately, I will not talk about the things she does under the name of making you jealous, still she will be the one who always returns to you.
This bitch is someone who can even manage to plan her own death, meaning it is impossible for her not to be a master of crocodile tears and flips. She is from those who could write the book of innocence but has never lived it.
But if there is something that separates her from her brother, it is definitely that if she loves you, she will not include you in her family's blood feud. No, if Quinn loved you, this means you will be at the center of her life. She will put her tooth to her nail, but she will not let her brother's feud reach your hand. She can even fall at odds with her family on this matter.
If it is necessary to talk about Quinn's jealousy, it is extremely too much. You can be sure that she will find even the home address of the person who falls at odds with her. Also Quinn is quite dominant in bed, she is someone who does not like to let the ropes slip from her hand. Be careful and do not get too caught up in her madness.
Danny Johnson
Danny is not clumsy like the others, he does not act stupid, he does not panic. Everything he plans is flawless just like himself. If you are together with him, nothing in your life is a coincidence. In my opinion, you were most likely on his list which consists of people Danny will kill. While he messes things up perfectly as Ghostface in the city you live in, when it is your turn he will just freeze.
First, during the first weeks he will put this forward as being due to insufficient information, as if there is someone he needs to prove himself to, he will lurk on the street at night and attack you in the middle of the road. But he will not kill. While reading the newspaper, his knuckles turned stark white on the mug he holds with anger, he will try to accept what is written.
"THE FIRST VICTIM WHO MANAGED TO ESCAPE ALIVE FROM GHOSTFACE'S ATTACK!"
He will accept that it is his own fault but he will never manage to fix it. Even though he wants to scatter your guts in the middle of the street just to prove to everyone that it is the exact opposite, that everything is under his control, he will not do it.
He must accept it. Danny loved you, you were so much just yourself. You looked like someone who could be found anywhere at first, but as he got to know you, it was as if he was taken under the effect of a spell. And his love will deepen with what he is best at, which is watching. Since he already knows your every habit by heart, he will easily just slide into your life.
Like this Danny is the best listener in your life, you will really like him being so eager to know you, whereas this is beyond nice it is too dark. He will remember even the smallest detail, from your favorite coffee to your sleeping hours.
Speaking of remembering, you have a box full of polaroid pictures with him. From the sweet sticker and effect photos taken in machines before the movie that he would get bored of upon your insistence, to the photos taken by his own self and you. It is almost very sweet, right? Ah if only your lover showed you the photos he keeps for his own private use too. Though don't worry, Danny will actually hide his identity up to a certain point too.
Because the work he does and his life are completely connected to each other. Especially when he changes his identity and takes off for a new city, he will definitely lay out the whole truth since you will come with him too. Honestly he does not have a single gram of fear of the police, he is someone who can play them around his finger very easily too.
The real uncertainty is you. His Ghostface identity is extremely important, he will never accept even the slightest disrespect and please do not make a move or judgment that will not please him. Otherwise, you will become the most brutal case in history of the Ghostface file.
I want to touch upon one more point, Danny is a complete narcissist you have already understood this anyway. Throughout life, he will constantly keep expressing that he can leave you behind as a memory in your hometown at first and abandon you. And when you get sad, he will hug you and tell you not to be a touchy baby.
It is impossible to separate Danny and his camera. It could probably even be his middle name; during the relationship, in those most intimate moments when you take pleasure the most, when your breath catches or your eyes roll back slightly, he suddenly pops the flash. No, no matter how much you whine, he will not delete these he already wrote in his will for the photo album to be buried with himself. Except for grunts and small groans, your lover is very silent in bed, the only thing you can get from him is dirty talks and swear words. Whereas he just wants to hear your voice. Whispering into your ear with that mature, deep voice of his, he will demand even more, he will shower you with orders. If I talk about him and tying, bondage games it will get too longg anyway that is for another time.
Billy Loomis
A complete gaslighter. He manipulates you in such a secret way that you constantly keep doubting yourself. Seriously don't get on his bad side, because Billy could write a thousand page book about how he can make you feel bad.
Your relationship with him is like a cat and mouse game, it always gives this taste from one end to the other. But Billy can have mistakes too, after all he is a human too; especially when he has a lover who is awake and smart enough, it is impossible for him to make mistakes. You will probably notice that he is keeping a secret and when he is caught, he will throw the blame on you by saying, "You don't love me enough."
Breaking up with Billy is not even a matter of question, and if such a thing happened its end would probably be death. But if we assume that he truly loves you, things will change. Actually understanding Billy is not that hard, he just hates everything and everyone in the world because of his mother leaving him because of his father. But if he truly loved you, you would be the only thing that anger wouldn't touch—ahm, I'm not talking about the madness, that is separate.
He will always come from behind you and hug you, rest his chin on your shoulder, play with your hair and whisper words that mix between provocative and sweetness. Billy is an asshole who will learn very quickly wwhich buttons of yours to push and use them in his own favor at the same speed.
Ahh I almost forgot, his best friend Stu is also like the Steve in your relationship. But Billy will draw a bright red line about this. Whenever Stu talks too flirtatiously with you and makes playful touches, he will keep meeting Billy's murderous glares.
You even caught this word between them many times "Don't go near them Stu, they are mine." If only the subject was limited to Stu, if this man cannot tolerate his best friend's attitudes, don't even ask about the others. His eyes are constantly on you in school hallways and events. Billy will always run as a support in the discomforts you experience at school.
Which usually, what a coincidence you will hear that those people became the victims of Ghostface a few days later. Yet you will never understand that Billy did this for you.
Or so I'd say lol.
Can you conclude that he is a normal person from Billy going and isolating you to himself instead of getting angry in every argument, his slight sadism movements in bed, and his dark looks? Unfortunately, Billy will fail the class on this subject. But at least he is good at sex. He will fix your hands above your head and make you repeat his name until your vocal cords burst.
I'm not talking about the roleplays you will do with the Ghostface costume...in those moments, he truly loses control and for a moment you get out of the effect of pleasure and start to worry for your own life.
Jill Roberts
We can definitely call her the most controlling and fame hungry of the bunch. She doesn't see you as a partner, but as an 'accessory' that boosts her own popularity.
At the slightest argument, she immediately declares herself the victim. If you try to separate from her, she can darken your life by telling the whole world that you harmed her. To be honest she tried to manage you and Charlie at the same time for a while, but your different personalities and Charlie's stupidities exhausted her, so she will make the decision to get rid of him in the end. But this doesn't mean you will be her Ghostface partner.
No, Charlie's role and ending were already determined long ago. Yours was too; you are the poor and only lover of the sole survivor who escaped the Ghostface attack. While we are on the subject of love and fame, expect Jill to market your relationship on instagram in a flawless perfection that everyone will envy. Yet behind the camera, there is absolutely nothing but rot.
Jill might genuinely be one of the worst partners. What can you expect from someone who doesn't even hesitate to hurt her own body for her goals? She will isolate you from everything in life, you are almost like her own toy.
"They don't understand our love baby, we only need each other." You've heard these words so many times that you don't even question them anymore. Then again, what if you did? Jill was specially created for the victim role.
And to be worshipped—she thinks she was created to be worshipped. Jill is in love with her own image. She loves being in front of a big mirror in the bedroom or watching you worship her body. The more desire you look at her with, the more wild she gets and her lust hits the roof. She completely determines the positions, pace and when you will stop. She loves giving you orders, tying you to the bed or blindfolding you to leave you completely at her mercy. She'll keep leaning into your ear and whispering, "Whose queen am I? Tell me, who are you losing your mind for?"
Richie Kirsch
Just like he did with Sam, he would drop everything and follow you to another city, abandoning his whole life just to be near you and protect you. It's calculated, of course—he knows these grand sacrifices will leave you hopelessly, desperately bound to him.
No matter how chaotic things get, he always plays the part of the most rational, innocent person in the room. He never seems to tire of the act, especially when playing his absolute favorite role: your safe harbor.
But let's be real—Richie is obsessive and unhinged. Then again, who on this list isn't? He is a textbook slave to pop culture, a reddit addict and a narcissist whose mind is always spinning, desperately trying to bend reality into the scripts he writes. Honestly he's the type of madman who wouldn't hesitate to ruin you if it served his plot.
As a chronic internet addict, Richie will meticulously exhume your digital corpse. He'll dig up your forgotten social media accounts, old Reddit threads and even your childhood photos just to decode you. He maps your desires and triggers so perfectly that every surprise feels tailor made. You'll mistake it for a soulmate connection, completely blind to the fact that you've just been professionally stalked. You poor thing.
Sometimes he'll tie you down, leaving you entirely at his mercy. As you gasp for air—caught between adrenaline and a creeping dread—he'll lean in with that sly, cinematic smirk and whisper "Don't take it personally, baby. I'm just doing the scene justice." Richie is a virtuoso at converting fear into raw desire.
He has this specific way of looking at you—a gaze so laced with anxiety and fierce protectiveness that you won't help but believe it with every fiber of your being. You will trust that look with all your heart.
A.n: My first time writing for all of them and it definitely won't be the last. Especially Danny and Doofy just wait for me, you handsome bastards.
𝑺𝒀𝑵𝑶𝑷𝑺𝑰𝑺 → ❝ I wanna feel the rush, I wanna taste the crush, I wanna get you going. I wanna lay you down, I wanna string you out, I wanna make you mine. ❞
𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐎𝐍𝐄 : 𝐅𝐀𝐂𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐀𝐍 𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐋 ৎ |
𝑷𝑹𝑬𝑽𝑰𝑶𝑼𝑺 𝑷𝑨𝑹𝑻 ⋮ 𝑴𝑨𝑲𝑬 𝒀𝑶𝑼 𝑴𝑰𝑵𝑬 𝑷𝑨𝑹𝑻 𝑶𝑵𝑬 ৎ |
𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐒/𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 → pornstar!reader, yandere!ghostface, knife play, porn addict!ghostface, rape threats, porn mentioned, porn addiction mentioned, obsessive!ghostface, love struck!ghostface, hyperfem!reader, choking, unhealthy thoughts, praise, obsessive thoughts, violent threats, blood play, ownership obsession, possessive!ghostface, yandere themes and a lottt of praise.
𝑨𝑼𝑻𝑯𝑶𝑹'𝑺 𝑵𝑶𝑻𝑬 → Inspired by Madison Beer's song, Make You Mine. Thank you for your patience, angels. This month has been crazy. Glitter & Violence is unlocking soon, as well as So Wet and Lights, Camera, Action! The Dead Dove route is currently being worked on and many more routes to come. I'm currently working on a flowchart for all of the choices and routes! Also thank you to whoever voted on the polls (tag list at the end, comment if you want to be added.)
divider credits : @chrisssiren & @feimingo
♡ㅤ ⎙ㅤ ⌲
🖱️ 𝑪𝑳𝑰𝑪𝑲 𝑻𝑶 𝑪𝑶𝑵𝑻𝑰𝑵𝑼𝑬 𝑴𝑨𝑲𝑬 𝒀𝑶𝑼 𝑴𝑰𝑵𝑬 🖱️
➢ You chose to be a good girl and continue the stream as you were told.
Smart choice.
Instead of making Ghostface jealous, you simply thanked Perverted Daddy’s generous donations, blowing him a kiss as you usually do for your special donors. It made your lovesick stalker’s hand twitch, and he nicked your soft chest with his blade. The sudden stinging pain earned a hiss from your pretty lips as blood trickled down your hard nipples.
“I'm sorry, baby doll, my hand slipped.” He lies. Always with the lies. Yet his voice was so tender and genuine, you almost believed him.
His filthy hands groped your chest, rubbing the stinging wound and forcing the blood to spill. He loved you in red. It was his favorite thing. He liked to watch the cherry red color ruin your pretty skin.
It stung. Yet you couldn't deny that the color indeed looks good on you. You almost couldn't blame him for wanting to watch you bleed all the time.
With each stinging touch, he spread the blood all over your tits as the viewers watched. He played with your cold nipples, watching them soften with your blood and the touch of his perverted hands.
➢ [◉°] LIVE | ꧁ᬊᬁ ᴀɴɢᴇʟᬊ᭄꧂ ANGELSOFTPORN.COM
[ ▸ 216.8k LIVE VIEWERS ]
LIVE CHAT ▶SLOWED
♡ anonymous89 » this is so fucking hot
♡ jackripperfilms » finally some good content
♡ freakonaleash » [comment removed]
♡ choker&chains » oh wow
♡ cutieeesh» mmm this is so hot!
♡ messynymphe » I'm in love with this
♡ kylereddd » hope you do aftercare after this
♡ maryjanee» hi again!
♡ perverteddaddy » sweet angel.
He embraced you softly, “You're such a good girl.”
Thump, thump, thump.
You loved his praise..
“My sweet, sweet girl. Always listening so well.”
It was so intoxicating—you were starting to forget everything else. His hands roamed around your body, continuing to grope your bloody tits while he kept hungrily pulling your ass against his hard bulge beneath his robe.
The way he called you his good girl and touched you made your heart thump faster than the blade kissing your flesh. It also made you arch your back a little, pressing against his body more and more. You were a pathetic wet mess.
“Please, baby,” you whined needily, “I need you.”
Your whimpers and pleas made him weak in the knees for you. It drove him insane. It was so easy to make him sick with love for you.
His possessive grip on you became firmer, the ghostface mask tilting slowly as he looked at you. If only you could see behind the mask. His eyes were filled with lust.
“You need me to do what? Use your words, please.” He said in such a sweet voice, it made you sooo wet.
“I need you to fuck me, please—”, you whined softly, “I don't wanna read the donations anymore. I want you to fuck me, please, please.”
He gripped you tighter, his hands trembling with the need to fuck you in front of thousands. Your pathetic whimpers and begging made his cock ache; he didn't know you could be this eager for him. It was driving him insane. He needed you badly, too, but he had this night planned already.
He moved closer to your ear, “Just a little longer, baby, I promise, you'll get what you want soon.”
You whined once more, “Please, sir,” you pressed your ass against his throbbing bulge, “I know you want to.”
You could hear a dark chuckle under the mask, and his grip on you became tighter. “Of course I want to, doll.”
“I want to do so many bad things to you, things you won't be able to handle. We all want things, but I'm afraid we can't always have what we want.”
His threat made a puddle between your trembling legs. You whined once more, but before you could beg again, he forced your head to turn back and gripped his hand on your throat tighter.
The feeling of not being able to breathe feels so good to you—it's terrifying, but it feels intoxicating. Nobody talks about how easy it is to die, not knowing if this is going to be your last breath, and knowing that you're putting all of your trust and life into this strange man's hands. It deeply terrified you.
But it felt so good. It's a high you won't ever forget. The feeling of your eyes slowly losing the will to stay open, your mouth trying desperately to get air. Your body began to shut down, and it's crazy how easy it is to let it happen, sinking into your chair and letting your lovesick stalker's hands take away every breath you possess.
He didn't want you gone just yet; he just needed you to listen and stay still. His mask kept staring at you uncannily. Your vision started to blur, and his mask was distorted. You reach out to him, your hand trembling as you tug on his robe.
Your fingers tried to find their way to his bulge. Even when you were being choked, you wanted nothing more than his cock. It only made him harder.
“Fucking hell,” he whispers, “you're so needy today.”
Usually that would be a good thing, but he was feeling a bit unstable today, more than usual. His feelings for you just kept getting stronger and stronger.
Thump, thump, thump.
He knew if you kept begging and whining to be fucked, he would have lost it. He wouldn't have been able to stop.
Suddenly, he let go of your throat, letting you catch your breath. He tapped on your hip, signaling you to keep going for your devoted fans. So you listened, being a good girl and reading the chat and donations once more.
➢ [◉°] LIVE | ꧁ᬊᬁ ᴀɴɢᴇʟᬊ᭄꧂ ANGELSOFTPORN.COM
[ ▸ 233.2k LIVE VIEWERS ]
LIVE CHAT ▶SLOWED
♡ killiancsv » choke her again
♡ angelicwhore » she's so pretty when she can't breathe
♡ sukicutie » gained a new fan
♡ heavenlyy_22 » please do more knife play!
♡ dommommy » be careful
You continue to read multiple donations as Ghostface teases your body with his knife. You had gained so many new fans, and the donations kept spilling in.
♡── sukicutie Has Sent a $100 Donation──♡
╰┈➤ You're so pretty, and I love this Ghostface roleplay you're doing! I hope you keep doing it.
A little smile formed on your face, “Thank you for the generous donation, sukicutie! I love this Ghostface roleplay just as much as you.”
His gloved hand on your bare hip grew more possessive with your comment. “You're doing well, keep going,” he leaned over, “if you keep it up, I'll give you a special reward.”
The idea of a special reward made you even more motivated to keep being good for him. You turned your head back to the screen and continued to read another donation.
♡── heavenlyy_22 Has Sent a $150 Donation──♡
╰┈➤ loving the stream! You gained a new fan <3
You had gained so many new fans that it was getting overwhelming. “Ahhh, a new fan? Thank you for becoming a part of my lovely world, and thank you for your lovely donation, heavenly. I'm glad you're loving the stream.”
Ghostface traced the knife down your hips, slightly cutting you and earning a whimper from your lips. He loved the noises you made when you were in pain.
You winced at the stinging pain and felt the blood dripping, trickling down your bruised thighs. It looked so beautiful to him. He couldn't tear his eyes away from the bloody sight. He just wanted to keep spilling.
You noticed he was stuck in a trance, and the blood triggered him. He wanted to see your insides; he wanted to take your heart.
“Mr. Ghostface?” You called out to him, hoping to snap him out of his trance, “Are you okay—”, suddenly he pulled you out of the chair roughly, a little too roughly. He embraced you feverishly, holding you tight so you couldn't escape. So many perverted and sick thoughts were rushing through his head. You needed to calm him down. His tightened grip on the handle frightened you, and his mask just kept staring at your soft, trembling flesh.
To snap him out of it, you softly pushed him into your chair and straddled him. For a moment, he looked at you in confusion, not knowing what to do. But your face calmed him down.
His knife was still at your side, but you felt confident enough to grind on his bulge beneath his robe. His other hand joined your bloody hips to hold you.
“Such a pretty sight.” He mumbled beneath his mask. You could hear him struggling to say anything, yet you could hear his little whimpers and groans; they were so soft and cute. You wanted to hear them more.
You started to grind on him more sensually, slowly letting your sticky cunt stain his robe. He was so wet because of you. His tip was sticky with his precum, aching and twitching beneath your wet lips.
"Mine." He muttered as he gripped you tight.
It made your heart fluttered.
He wanted nothing more than to be inside of you. His tight grip on the knife is weak, but it's still there. You continue to grind on his bulge, leaning forward and arching your back.
Your body is pressed up against his chest, and your face and his mask are almost kissing. If only you could take off the mask. You wanted desperately to see who was behind it. You wanted to kiss his lips and look into his eyes as you rode his cock.
He knew you wanted it badly. So in a moment of weakness, he lifted the mask just enough to reveal his lips and laid them on yours.
You were so happy. His lips were so soft that you passionately returned his special kiss. As you kissed him, you could not stop bouncing on his hardened member, your sticky folds completely drenching his robe.
He wanted to be inside of you already. While you returned his sweet kisses, you could feel his hands tugging his robe beneath you, and pulling out his dripping cock.
It looked so pretty and pink.
Without wasting time, he aligned it with your wet cunt and slammed it into you, stretching your little hole until it was in the shape of him. Fuck, it felt so good as he plunged his cock into you over and over again.
The sound of his cock repeatedly forcing its way into your hole filled the room; it was so loud, you were scared of someone making a complaint.
You could feel him pathetically melting right beneath you, his grip on the knife barely present anymore. All he could think about was you and how good your insides felt.
He was already so close.
With each slow and sensual kiss, his thrusts became more rapid and violent. His voice and moans were shaky, even more shaky than yours. He was cute like this. Then suddenly, thick ropes of hot, sticky cum spilled from his cock and erupted into your hole.
Yet, even as he came deep inside of you, he wanted to keep going. He gripped your plump ass and slammed into you over and over again as your viewers watched. You could feel your legs trembling with each thrust, your body started to ache, and you felt too weak to keep going. His hands roamed all over your sweaty body, and he couldn't stop tasting your lips.
“You're perfect. Too perfect.” He mumbled beneath his breath.
He gripped your ass harder and kept thrusting. “I don't want to stop, doll,” he said as he kissed you more feverishly, “I just want to make you mine.”
“Mhmm.. Sir—Please slow down,” you whimpered, but he wouldn't stop, he just kept thrusting, watching the way his filth spilled from your wet cunt.
You didn't know what to do, so you whispered your safeword as softly as you could. Surprisingly, it snapped him out of his lovesick trance. He slowed down yet kept slowly bucking his hips into you. It was so hot to watch him still chase his pleasure while not wanting to hurt you too much. You were happy he kept his promise.
“I'm sorry, babydoll.” He cooed, “Did I go too far?”
He sounded so genuine and concerned, it put a smile on your face. “I'm okay, don't worry. It was starting to get a little bit too much for me.” You answered honestly.
He hummed and looked towards the stream, wanting to end it already. The room was filled with the exhausted gasps for air as you both tried to catch your breath. He pulled you into one last kiss, one that was gentler.
“You did such a good job today, sweetheart.” His praise made you weak. He cupped your sweaty cheek and smiled. It was your first time seeing his smile. It made your heart flutter.
It was such a loving and sweet smile. It was something you wanted to see more. You pulled him into another kiss, “Thank you, baby.”
My friends walk in your direction / Said "Don't you know [...]?"
Huh / When did you get hot?
Overview: You've been the awkward friend forever. Always lingering in the background of Stu and Billy's lives, never quite fitting in with their other friends. But when their current girlfriends are tired of worrying about your relationship with their boyfriends, they offer you a makeover. You just hadn't thought it would have made Billy and Stu so angry.
Apparently, doing your makeup isn't very final girl behavior. Whatever that means...
a/n: absolutely playing into the “taking down her hair makes her hot” trope rn. Also, the reader has curly hair. For the sake of the plot. (and because I’m tired of not living my curly-haired truth)
Also, X2 Sid and Tatum are a bit OOC. I was in love with Tatum when I was younger, but for this, I need her to be a bit of a bitch. It’s for the plot people, I don’t make the rules
wc: 7.2K
more at: Belle’s 3k Extravaganza
You can already see Stu grinning as he watches you run up to the fountain. Billy's there waiting beside him, flipping through a book you doubt he has any interest in. Your chest heaves as you come to a stop, hands propped on your knees as you try to catch your breath.
Stu snorts, “What’d you run here?” he taunts, with that stupid voice he always uses.
“Shut up,” you grumble, dropping your bag to the ground and pulling out a folder. “Here,” you toss it at him. It slaps against his chest, and he lets out a little grunt, just barely catching it before it slips to the water.
He leafs through the papers inside, though you know he never actually bothers to proofread. Bored waiting for him to be done, you hold out your palm. He glances at it with a dumb look, "What?”
“Seriously,” you tilt your head and let out a scoff. “Do you think I’m doing this because I love you?”
Stu rolls his eyes and fishes his wallet from his pocket. You let out a triumphant hum as he slaps the cash in your palm. Trying to step back, you don't get very far before his wrist is snapping out, fingers wrapping around your arm as he tugs you back toward him. You stumble between his spread legs, shooting him an unamused look.
He only grins at your ire. “Come on,” he urges. “You love me, you can say it.”
You roll your eyes, but dip down to meet his stare. “All right. I love you, Stu.” His grin falls as you add, “Thank you for being my benevolent little rich boy.” Billy snorts and Stu shoots him a look. It’s enough of a distraction for you to slip from his hold and pick up your bag.
Good timing, too, considering Tatum’s walking up with Sid and Randy. Tatum’s certainly chiller compared to his other girlfriends. You get along with her more than you ever did with Casey. But you can’t imagine anyone would be happy to see their boyfriend all handsy with his best friend. Even if handsy seems to be Stu’s default state.
“Ooh, another illicit deal, I see,” Tatum makes herself cozy, dropping right into Stu’s lap. You force out a stiff laugh and make yourself look away.
You’re just friends with Stu, same as Billy. Have been since you were kids. To them, you’ll always just be the strange neighbor kid who never seemed to get out of that socially awkward phase.
But how you look in their eyes doesn’t change the fact that puberty hit you first. It doesn’t change that you haven’t been able to look at either of them as just friends since you discovered the difference between boys and girls.
However, based on their caliber of girlfriends, they couldn’t make it any clearer that there isn’t a chance in hell of anything ever happening.
“That’s seriously pathetic, Stu,” Sid teases. She can't hide the undercurrent of disapproval in her voice. “How long are you going to let her get you through school?”
Stu’s sharp eyes cut to yours and you feel heat bloom under your skin. “Well? How long are you gonna carry me?”
Scoffing, you move to take your place beside Randy. He immediately offers you some of his food, which you take just to have something to do with your hands.
“However long you keep paying, rich boy.”
Tatum and the others laugh a little, but you feel like you got the question wrong from the look Stu’s sending you. You’re not sure what you could have possibly said that he would have approved of. But you don’t think you’ll ever fully understand him or Billy.
You doubt anyone ever will.
Tatum turns her attention away from you, instead speaking across her boyfriend to discuss some gossip with Sid. It’s typical that you’re left out of the loop.
Something about you seems to scream that you’re above petty girlhood experiences. Given the chance, you'd have more dirt on the people at this school than they would ever know. People trip up around the quiet kids, always seeming to forget they're there until it's too late.
But, as much as Tatum and Sid are nice to you, you’re still an outlier. Someone they think belongs more to the boys. While the boys seem to think you’d do better with the girls. There’s no safe middle ground for you to stand on. You’re sure that if you didn’t show up for lunch tomorrow, the only thing that would change is who Stu pays for his homework.
Running a hand over your hair, you let out a tired sigh as you leaf through your book. “You know,” Tatum’s voice startles you from your stupor. You glance up to find her eyes narrowed on your hair. “That puffed-up look has been done to death.” She pops a grape in her mouth with a sharp grin. “It’s not the eighties anymore, sweetie.”
Your eyes widen, hands shooting to your hair. Stu snickers, slapping Tatum’s hip, “That’s catty, even for you, babe.”
“Seriously,” Sid admonishes, shooting you a sorry smile. Billy’s eyes dart between you and her, but he doesn’t say a thing in your defense. Swallowing roughly, your gaze drops to your shoes. Self-consciousness drowns you so quick, you just want to run to the bathroom and hide out the rest of the day.
“What?” Tatum snickers. “I didn’t mean it like that. I just meant she could use some touch-ups.”
Your throat burns as your eyes flick toward the grassy courtyard. You’d prefer anything to facing them right now. Crying in front of the Stu and Billy is worse than chumming the waters before going diving.
“Christ, you’re the worst sometimes,” but Sid can’t hide the smile in her voice. She calls your name and you suck in a sharp breath before looking at her. “She’s sleeping over at mine tonight. Why don’t you come?”
“So you can give me some touch-ups?” you snap. Randy snickers at the perceived cat-fight, and you punch him in the arm.
“Innocent bystander,” he grimaces, shooting you a glare. You give him a sharp smile and shrug.
“Yeah,” Tatum agrees. “I think it’d do you some good to hang out with someone other than these bozos.” She doesn’t fail to include her boyfriend in the insult. Stu’s face drops behind her as he looks to Billy.
“Me?” he mouths, and Billy just glares at him.
“They’re totally holding you back, babe,” she pops another grape in her mouth and shrugs. “Your choice.”
“I can’t believe you let her talk to you like that,” Stu snickers, shoveling popcorn in his mouth as he sprawls across the loveseat.
You shift uncomfortably in your seat, clutching the throw pillow closer to your chest. “What the hell was I supposed to say?”
Billy glances over his shoulder at you, his legs kicked over the arm of the seat across from Stu. “Maybe don’t roll over and let her treat you like a doormat.”
You roll your eyes and pick up a piece of popcorn. Tossing it, it bounces off of Stu’s nose while you lean back on the couch. “She’s your girlfriend, you could have said something.” Stu watches the popcorn fall to his mom’s new, ridiculously expensive rug and snorts.
“Yeah right, like I’m gonna get in the middle of a cat-fight.”
“Oh yeah,” Billy rolls his eyes as he flips through the channels. “I’m sure that’s your nightmare.”
Stu laughs and tosses a handful of candy at Billy. Clearly incensed by your idea of trashing his mother’s pristine living room. “Shut up, man.”
You drown out their bickering, more than used to it, as food begins to fly across the room. Reaching up, you fiddle with a strand of combed-out hair. “Do you think she was right?”
They pause, eyes darting back to you. They share a look that you don’t understand and it only worsens your mood. “What? That we’re holding you back?” Billy questions, voice tight with something dangerous.
“No,” you snip, tossing your pillow at him. He deflects it with an irritated look, narrowed eyes meeting yours. “That I’m a mess.”
“She didn’t say that,” Stu objects, a cruel tilt to his lips. “Just that you need some touch-ups.” Billy chuckles and Stu joins him. The pair turns back to the TV and that’s that. You’re dismissed.
Frowning, you get to your feet and grab your bag. “Where’re you going?” Billy asks, not even turning around.
“I’m gonna head home,” you tell them, something souring your stomach the longer you’re in their presence.
“We haven’t even gotten to the movie, yet,” Stu whines. You ignore him, rushing toward his front door and throwing it open. With your back turned, you miss the harsh look the boys share. The type that would have had you turning around and sitting right back down on the couch.
Heading through the door, you think over Tatum’s harsh words. Cruel, but maybe necessary. Checking your watch, you figure it’s not midnight yet, surely Sid’s invite must still stand.
Sid’s surprised as she opens her front door. “Oh,” she offers a polite smile as she greets you.
Tatum pops up behind her, an impressed grin on her face. “Didn’t think you were going to show. Isn’t this your movie night?”
You sigh, fingers flexing around your bag. “Yeah. But you had a point. Your delivery sucked. But you had a point.” Tatum mushes Sid to the side and beckons you into the house.
“I know I did,” she’s far too proud of herself as she leads you over to the couch. Sid hovers behind you both, clearly not expecting you and unsure what to do with herself.
Tatum seems far more comfortable as she takes your bag from you. “I had hope you’d see sense,” she croons, dropping onto the cushion beside you.
Your shoulders tense and you try not to grimace at how enthused she is at making you over. You hadn’t thought you were that bad. Clearly, she disagreed. Tatum rifles through some magazines before dropping one in your lap.
“I have plans for you." It sounds more like a threat as you stare down at the glammed out model in the magazine.
An hour later, Tatum’s coiling freshly washed strands of your hair around her fingers while Sid sits in front of you, brushing eyeshadow across your lids. “You really don’t look bad,” she reassures. “But, it’s confidence that sells a look.”
“If a little mascara gives you some confidence, who knows?” Tatum shrugs as she spirals more hair around her finger. “Maybe you’ll finally get a boyfriend.”
The longer this little "sleepover" has gone on, the more you’ve felt they had ulterior motives. Sure, slumber parties in chick flicks always look fun. Pillow fights, makeup sessions, and gossiping with one another. But that hasn’t been happening. The girls seem strangely tense.
You’re pretty sure they’re hoping this makeover session will finally get you your own guy, so they can stop worrying about your relationship with their boyfriends. You hadn’t taken Sid as the insecure type, apparently you were wrong.
Still, this was nicer than some of the exes Billy and Stu had acquired. At least they were helping you out. Rather than starting rumors that you slept around with the teachers.
Thank you, Casey Becker.
You hadn’t exactly been sorry when you’d heard what the town’s new killer had done to her and her asshole boyfriend.
Billy and Stu had called you twisted when you’d said that, but you’d seen the way they smiled. You wouldn’t be friends with them if there wasn’t something a little off-kilter about you.
“Someone should have taught you how to do this a while ago,” Tatum mutters, talking about the hair you’d hardly ever put much thought into. You had been taught how to deal with it, but it was never your top priority. Typically, you braided it and just lived in it for a while.
Something about the way she says it reminds you of what she’d casually dropped at lunch. “What did you mean when you said Billy and Stu are holding me back?” Sid’s brush pauses on your cheek and Tatum’s hands still. You don’t have to look to know they’re sharing a silent conversation.
“It’s just something guys do,” Sid dismisses.
Your eyes narrow and she offers a tense smile. “Tatum?” You prod, knowing she doesn’t care about softening her words.
She lets out a little sigh and drops your hair. “Guys like having awkward girl friends. When they get dumped or go through a slump, she’s someone they can fall back on.”
“Like,” you pause, heart stuttering. “For sex?” Sid snorts at your blunt delivery and Tatum shrugs.
“Yeah, pretty much. They think if a girl’s lonely enough, she’ll sleep with anyone. It’s just a good way to keep a backup.”
“And you think that’s what they do with me?”
Sid’s eyes dart up to meet yours and you know she feels bad you’re having this conversation at all. “Sometimes. Sometimes they just like having someone around to make them feel better about themselves.”
Your heart drops to your feet and you don’t want to believe her. But something about what she says makes sense. Every time you complain about your clothes, hair, or anything too shallow or girly, the guys blow you off. They say stuff about not thinking you were into that vapid stuff.
Any chances you’ve had at a date, they’ll tell you shit about the guy you would never have guessed. Horrible things that make you uncomfortable and sick to your stomach. Half the time, you think they’re making it up, but you choose not to take the risk.
Every chance they get, they keep you all to themselves. And like an idiot, you’d just always thought that was because they wanted you the way you want them. Of course, Sid and Tatum would know better than you. They’re dating the boys after all. And it’s not so far out of character to assume Stu and Billy would be so malicious.
“Oh,” your stomach flips on itself and you blink watery eyes down at your hands. “Thanks for telling me,” you whisper. Tatum and Sid share a look over your shoulder. You see the guilt on Sid’s face, but you miss the wink Tatum sends her.
You follow what Sid and Tatum had taught you the night before, you don’t know which one you mess up worse, your hair or the makeup. You’ve missed first period by the time you finally make it out of the house. Meaning you manage to skirt around Billy and Stu right up until lunch.
Honestly, after what Sid and Tatum told you, no part of you actually wants to see them. But your boss at the video store is cutting your hours and you really need the cash Stu will give you for writing up his world civ essay.
Sucking in a sharp breath, you give yourself a little pep talk before forcing yourself to walk over to the fountain. Everyone’s there already, Sid and Tatum sprawled across their boyfriends. Meanwhile, Randy’s up and speaking with flailing arms. Like the court jester performing for the popular royals. It’s sickening what a cliche your friends have become when that’s what they’ve always made fun of.
“Watch the hands, Meeks,” you call out, nearly catching a slap to the face as he rants passionately about some horror flick you’ve never heard of.
He lets out a huff before turning to face you. Whatever argument he had dies on his tongue as he jerks back. You swallow roughly, hand reaching subconsciously toward your hair as he nearly pushes his nose against yours.
“Randy,” you whisper, mushing his face away. “What the hell is wrong with you?”
His thumb reaches up, swiping for your cheek, and you just manage to slap his hand back. “Is that glitter?” He questions, positively dumbfounded.
“It’s blush,” you snap, pushing him back. “Would you get out of here, you weirdo?” Shaking your head, you rifle through your backpack until you find the folder for Stu.
You try not to look at him as you walk up, chest tightening at the dead silence you’re now surrounded by. Stu grabs the folder, but his hand snakes up, grabbing at your wrist before you can back up.
“Huh,” he pulls you down, eyes roaming across your face. You glance at Tatum and she gives you an encouraging smile. “It is glitter.”
“Eyeshadow, doofus,” she swats his arm. “You did a good job,” she reassures you.
“Made me late for school,” you mutter, skin warming the longer Stu stares.
“Why?” Billy asks, before anyone can say anything else. Stu releases you at the sound of his voice and you stumble back.
“I don’t know,” forcing yourself to meet his eyes, you startle at the coldness staring back at you. “Maybe I wanted to look pretty.”
Stu snorts and cuts you a sharp look. “You didn’t need to do drag to look pretty,” he mocks. Your hand shoots up to your face. You hadn’t even done close to as much as Sid and Tatum had taught you.
“Stu,” Tatum snaps, shooting him a harsh look.
He lets out a chuckle and jerks back, “What?” He glances over at you, but the smile on his face isn’t genuine. “I was joking. It looks fine, dude.”
For some reason, you find yourself looking over at Billy. His jaw is tensed, eyes glaring down at the ground. He seems to feel your stare, gaze snapping up to meet yours. Biting your tongue, you swallow the burn in the back of your throat. “It looks good,” he finally admits, hardly sounding like he wants to compliment you.
You purse your lips and nod, barely wanting to be around them for another second. Clearly, the girls were right about their theory. “Really good,” Randy adds on, a goofy look on his face. You let out a sharp laugh and roll your eyes at him.
“I know it’s not your thing,” Tatum starts, sucking on her lollipop with a proud smile. “But you should come to Stu’s party tonight.”
You grimace and begin to shake your head. “Seriously,” Sid encourages. “You’ll have fun, for once.”
“What are you two planning, you little vixen?” Stu taunts, fingers pinching at Tatum’s sides. Your eyes narrow at the way he speaks through gritted teeth, voice tight.
Swallowing bile at Billy and Stu’s reactions, you straighten up, forcing your voice to be strong. “Even if I wanted to, I can’t.” The girls shoot you odd looks and you shrug as you pluck your bag from the ground. “I’m covering for Randy at the store.”
Randy’s head shoots up, eyes glazed over with confusion. “You are?”
“God,” you roll your eyes. “Remind me how many times they’ve fired your ass.” With a smug grin, he holds up five fingers and winks.
“What a shame,” Stu clicks his tongue and he doesn’t even bother sounding disappointed. “We’ll miss you reminding everyone of curfew.”
Hurt tightens your chest as you let out a sharp scoff. “Fuck off, Macher.”
His nose wrinkles and he presses his hand to his chest. “Ouch,” he hisses.
Billy reaches over and swats his arm, clearly telling him to knock it off. But you know that look on Stu’s face. He’s pissed, about what, you never have a clue.
Deciding to spare yourself any more embarrassment, you turn around and head back to the school. You didn’t want to go to his stupid party. But it would’ve been nice if they had wanted you there. If they could have just shown you something, that meant what the girls told you was bullshit.
“How many times do I have to tell you to alphabetize by genre?” Your boss, Jason, tosses Halloween at you and storms off. The VHS smacks you square in the chest and you let out a sharp scoff. The fuck does that even mean?
“Seriously,” you jump as someone’s pointy chin digs into your shoulder. “How many times does he have to tell you,” Stu bemoans, stealing the tape from your hand. You cast your eyes back and catch his grin as he backs off from you.
“Don’t you have a party to be planning?” You snap, not bothering to keep the venom from your tone.
“Someone jealous she didn’t get an invite?” Billy comes up on the other side of you, sharp eyes alight with a rare teasing glint.
It’s like being circled by hyenas with the pair of them. They always corner their prey, backing them up until there’s nowhere to run. Currently, it’s keeping you locked in the horror section as they block both ends.
“No,” you cut your eyes to Stu, irritation only growing worse at his stupid grin. “But you didn’t have to be such a dick today,” you tell him, snatching the tape back so you can shelf it.
“Oh,” he croons, catching your wrist and tugging you back into his chest. “I think I hurt her feelings,” he mocks, pouting at Billy.
Billy raises his brows, leaning on the shelves as he shrugs. “Did he?”
“Is there a particular reason you guys are being such assholes to me, or are you just bored?” Billy’s eyes narrow as he offers a sharp smirk.
Stu lets his chin rest in the crook of your neck, ignoring how you try to wiggle out of his hold. “Is there a reason you decided to do this?” He asks, tugging at one of your curls. “I liked the whole puffed-out dandelion look.”
“Ugh,” a disgusted groan slips out as you elbow him in the side. His breath whooshes out of him and his arms finally loosen. “Why do you have such a hard-on about whether or not I style my hair?”
“You never cared before.” Billy frowns, eyeing you up and down. “All the best final girls don't give a shit about that stuff.”
Your eyes fall into slits as a bewildered scoff leaves you. “What geeky language are you even speaking?”
Stu barks out a sharp laugh, leaning forward until he's back in your field of view. “Says you,” he taunts.
Your head falls to the side as you shoot him an unimpressed glare. “Do you guys need something? Jason already hates me. I don’t feel like having you two getting me fired.”
“Jason?” Billy questions. “The asshole that was bitching about genres?”
“That’s the one,” you hum, turning back to your cart and the piles of tapes you have to deal with.
“Dude seems like he needs to get laid,” Stu points out, eyes tracking Jason as he paces through the store. Yelling at the first person he sees over some made-up bullshit.
“Yeah, he probably does. But I doubt anyone’s that desperate.”
“No,” he taunts, and your hackles raise at his tone. “Not even you?”
You slam the tape down harder than you mean to. The noise echoes through the store, the shelves rattling beneath Stu and Billy’s careless bodies. Stu’s brows raise with poorly concealed excitement. “Get something or get the fuck out,” you hiss at him.
Taking hold of your cart, you shove past him before he can think of anything else smart to say. Insulting others seems to be the only time he’s capable of coming up with any wit of his own.
Of course, that means you get to be on the receiving end nine times out of ten. You make a good target for them, apparently.
Billy swats Stu’s arm, shoving him back and trailing after you. Stu lets out a snotty huff, randomly grabbing one of the tapes from the shelves as Billy falls into your check-out line.
“He’s a moron,” he excuses.
“And a jackass,” you snap, barely lifting your gaze to meet his. “Did you pick something?” Billy reaches behind himself, slapping Stu in the chest and making the other boy toss Prom Night on the counter.
You ignore how Stu’s gaze bores into the side of your head, scanning the VHS and looking over the blocky green letters on your screen. “You owe ten bucks for an overdue movie,” you tell him.
“Ten bucks?” he scoffs, “What movie?”
Tilting your head, you scoff, he’s such a cliche. “Basic Instinct, got a little crush on Sharon Stone, Stuart?”
Stu’s nose wrinkles as he glares at you. “Stuart?” he huffs, “You sound like my mother.” Pushing Billy out of the way, he props his elbows on the counter, chin resting in his palms. “Can’t you do your best friend a favor?”
You drop down to his level, matching his posture with a saccharine smile. “Why would I do that?” You tease, voice pitched with faux innocence.
Stu’s got a genuine grin on his face as you play along; it takes everything in you not to return it. “What are you doing?” The moment’s broken as you jump back, Jason’s harsh voice ruining the fun.
Sucking in a sharp breath, you turn back to the monitor and pretend to type some nonsense into the system. “Nothing, just checking them out.”
“Yeah, I’ll bet,” your head whips up at the insinuation, but he barely spares you any attention. He turns toward the boys with a sneer, “Just because you're friends with her, doesn’t mean you don’t have to pay like everyone else. Have the movie back by tomorrow, or you’re banned.”
“Jason-” you object.
“You’re already on thin ice,” he snaps, pointing his fat finger in your face. You resist the urge to snap your teeth at him. “Don’t push me,” he warns, as if he were scary at all beyond you not having a paycheck next week.
Stu watches him walk away with furrowed brows and a sneer. “God, what a prick.”
“Yeah,” you mutter, “you’re telling me.” Feeling ever so slightly vindictive, you clear the charge from Stu’s account and toss him his tape. “Keep the movie, he’s an ass.”
Stu cares little for the other people waiting in line as he reaches across the counter and cups your cheeks. You let out a little squeak as he drags you closer, planting an obnoxiously loud kiss on your cheek.
“What are friends for?” He mocks, pushing back from you.
“Ugh,” you wipe at your face and glare at him.
“See you,” Billy says as he shakes his head, yanking up Stu’s sleeve and dragging him away before he can make an even bigger scene.
You watch them leave with a disbelieving laugh. Stu could be a dick, but at least he was fun. Unlike other people, Jason, who got off on making everyone as miserable as them. Despite your general disinterest in drunk crowds of teenagers, you’d rather be at Stu’s party than deal with him the rest of the night.
You, however, didn’t receive an invite. So, you turn back to your cart of tapes and force yourself to go back to restocking.
Around midnight, you finish closing up the registers and pick up a cleaning rag and some spray. You hum to yourself as you move to the windows, beginning to wipe them down.
Jason is hiding in the back. Shirking all his responsibilities on you as you close up tonight. Meaning you probably won’t be getting home until one at the earliest.
Muttering to yourself, you work on scrubbing out a particularly tough stain. Whatever it is clings to the fabric of your rag, each wipe seeming to spread it more. With a huff, you lean down to spray some more cleaner when a dark shape moves in the corner of your eye.
Frowning, you straighten back up. The window before you is fogged with whatever ruined the glass. Tilting your head past it, you find a screaming white mask staring back at you.
“Fuck,” you jump back with a gasp, rag slipping from your hand. The figure stares, head tilting slowly as he surveys you. You can only stare for a minute, heart trapped in your throat as your chest stutters. Visceral panic fills you, spikes through your blood until you feel lightheaded.
He takes a step forward and your body jolts back to life. Stumbling over yourself, you rush to the door, flipping the lock before he can get any closer.
Of course, you knew all about the Woodsboro killer. Casey Becker's murder was worse than even Sid’s mom. But it still seemed so far disconnected from you that you hadn’t really thought about it.
After all, why the hell would anyone want to kill you? You never did anything.
But he’s staring right at you now. Beneath that ridiculous mask are the eyes of a killer. And they're set on you.
Too afraid to take your eyes off him, you stumble back until your hip is smashing into the corner of the counter. A pained hiss slips past your lips as your hand gropes blindly for the phone. He almost seems amused as he watches you, relaxed and at ease as his head follows your clumsy movements.
Finally managing to wrap your hand around the landline, you hastily press it to your ear. The monotonous ringing on the other end is possibly one of the worst sounds you’ve ever heard.
The phone slips from your hand, cracking against the floor as you stare at him. His head tilts and he shakes it slowly, mocking you.
“Jason?” You shout, forcing your eyes off the killer in front of you. With a sharp breath, you push off from the counter and run to the back. The door to Jason’s office is cracked, light spilling out from within.
You shove through, eyes burning as you fight back your panic. “Jason, we have to call-"
Your voice trails off into nothing as you take in the scene before you. His fan buzzes in the corner of the office, a droning noise amongst a scene straight from a crappy slasher movie.
Blood drips from the open gash of his throat. It trails down his arms, pooling along his fingers until it splashes against the floor. The noise echoes through the quiet space as your breath trembles. You trip over yourself as you back out of the office, stomach clenching painfully the longer you look into the open flesh of his throat. His eyes have rolled back, hidden beneath his eyelids, as his body goes cold.
“Oh,” you let out a revolted moan. “God,” you clap your hand over your mouth, tripping as you run from the room.
He had already been in here. Somehow, that psycho killed your boss. Then, for some reason, he decided to wait around for you to notice him outside. He’d been smart enough to cut the phone line. Why is he playing with you now?
Racing back to the front, you find him right where you left him. Just outside the front door, head still tilted with amusement. “What the….”
He taps his knife against the window. Tap, tap, tap, slowly, he lifts his head, straightening up as he nods behind you. Just barely, you managed to turn in time to see the knife slashing toward you.
With a shrill scream, you dive to the side, terror filling you as you realize there are two of them. They don’t give you long to dwell on that. The second one dives for you while the one outside works on breaking the glass door.
Kicking your leg out, you manage to catch the one in front of you in the shin. He lets out a raspy groan, muffled by the mask, as he falls forward. Your hands grope along the floor, desperate for any sort of weapon. The best you have is a VHS. You don’t let that stop you from smacking the sharp corner into the temple of the man next to you. His hand flies up to his head, another pathetic groan leaving him.
You scramble to your feet just as the sound of glass shattering echoes through the store. A brick skips across the carpet, stopping just before your shoes. With a shaky breath, you look over to find the second man stepping slowly through the empty doorway.
His gaze flicks to yours and you let out a small whimper as the other one begins getting to his feet. “Shit,” you hiss, not sparing them another glance as you rush to the back. You can hear their footsteps quick behind you, just barely managing to slip into Jason’s office as they catch up.
You slam the door shut, body jolting roughly as they try to barrel through. With a groan, you shove your shoulder forward, shoes squeaking against linoleum as you force the door the rest of the way closed.
Panic-slick palms slip against the handle until you’re finally turning the lock. The door rattles violently as you step away, their bodies thudding against the wood as they try and batter their way through.
You don't waste any time, whipping around toward Jason’s computer and dialing into the modem. You work around your boss’s dead body, eyes burning at the smell of death and copper that floods his office. Your fingers fly across the keyboard, quick to connect to emergency services. You just manage to send your address when the door flies open behind you.
A scream rips from your throat as you jump around the desk. They both stand in the doorway, shoulders heaving as their muffled breaths fill the air. Your hands tremble at your sides as they split away from one another. The tallest lingers by the desk, the shorter one hovers in the doorway. They’ve cornered you, left you nowhere to run.
You back up as much as you can, wincing as your back connects with Jason’s metal filing cabinets. The shorter one lunges first. Your hand wraps around the handle of one of the cabinets and you wrench it forward, jumping back as it slams into the ground.
You manage to catch him off guard as he jerks back. You leap over the fallen cabinet and shove past him. A gloved hand wraps around your elbow, roughly shoving you forward.
Right into the tip of his blade.
A low moan escapes you, heart beating furiously against your chest as blood begins to weep from your stomach. Your eyes flutter shut at the sharp burst of pain. Fire lights up along your nerves.
When he begins to pull away, trying for another hit, you shove him back with all the strength you have left. He stumbles with a grunt, tripping over the cabinet and crashing into the other one.
You press your hands against your stomach, running from Jason’s office, and leaping through the shattered front door. You can only hear the crunch of your shoes against the broken glass. You can’t spare any attention to what might be following behind.
You don’t let yourself stop, pushing forward even as your lungs tighten until it hurts worse to breathe than it did to be stabbed. By the time your legs finally give out, lights are speeding down the road toward you. Doors slam and familiar voices call your name as you crash against the pavement, blood pooling from your hands and onto the asphalt below.
“I’m not the one who thought we should test her.”
Consciousness is slow to come back to you. Distantly, you can hear familiar hushed voices. “Well, I’m not the one who tried to fucking gut her.”
You hear what sounds like a slap and then a harsh, “Shut the fuck up!”
Your mind is fuzzy, dulled by the edges of pain and sleeping too long. You can hardly recognize the voices, let alone understand what they’re saying.
“You’re lucky she’s still alive.”
There’s a brief pause and then a low chuckle that makes shivers run up your spine. “What the hell were you going to do if she wasn’t?”
A strange sound slips from your lips, a groan, maybe. It’s hard to tell as your eyes adjust to the sterile lights of the hospital room.
Immediately, there’s a weight sat beside you, large hands covering your own. You blink slowly, forcing your eyes to focus as you take in your surroundings. “Stu?” You mutter, voice wrecked as your gaze dips from his concerned face to Billy’s stoic one.
Your head tilts, nose wrinkling as you notice they’re both wearing hospital gowns. Stu even has an IV hooked to his arm.
“What’s going on?” You try to straighten up, but your arms buckle out from under you. Stu reaches forward, gentle for once, as he helps you sit up.
Slowly, Billy makes his way to your side, perching just beside you, mirroring Stu. “How do you feel?” He asks, dodging your question.
You blink, struggling to take inventory of yourself. “Uh,” you shrug, frowning at the pain burning through your stomach. “Weird.”
“That’s the meds. They’ve got us on the same shit.” Stu lets go of your hands to lift his gown, showing a large, red-tinted bandage along his side.
“Jesus,” you reach out, fingers just brushing the edge. “What the hell happened to you two?”
“Sid’s dad,” Billy cuts in. Your head whips around to him so fast you’re surprised it doesn’t pop off. He offers a sardonic smirk as your jaw drops.
“Sorry, what?”
“Yeah, apparently the dude lost it,” Stu cuts in, eyes wide with something you don’t like. “Freaked out and just went on a bloody spree. He got us last night.” Billy reaches over and swats Stu’s arm. He lets out a little huff, “He got Tatum, too.”
“Stu-“
“And Sid.” Billy cuts you off before you can even start to console. Your eyes clench shut before shooting back open. This is way too much to be processing when you’ve just woken up from a drug-induced coma.
Your lips part, condolences ready on your tongue. But neither of them seems especially desperate for that. Stu’s got your hands in his, eyes watching every micro expression of yours like it's the most interesting thing in the world. Billy seems distant. Expected when your girlfriend is murdered by her father. But this is different, somehow.
There’s something he doesn’t want you to see.
“I,” your mind races with a hundred different thoughts before settling on one. “I don’t get it. Why'd he come after me?”
Stu scoffs, “Why'd he murder his daughter? Nothing about this will ever make sense.”
“Yeah, but-"
“We should let the doctor know you're awake.” Billy gets to his feet, cutting you off again. Stu lingers for a moment before reluctantly releasing your hands. Your eyes dart between them, not eager to just be left on your own again.
“We’ll stop by later,” Stu promises, the wheels of his IV drip squeaking as they both shuffle from your room. Your hand drifts to your stomach, mind growing consumed with the throbbing pain. Something isn’t right.
When you’re well enough that your meds can be cut back, you go off on your own to find the boys. You’re sick of being alone in your room. Terrified that every time you look through your window, that screaming mask will be staring back at you.
Sid’s dad is dead. Dewey and the others had reassured you a hundred times. But that didn't mean that Ghistface was dead. You saw him.
Saw them.
It wasn’t just one man behind the slaughter. But you hadn’t told Dewey that. Hadn’t told the sheriff. Not even the nosy ass reporter that kept sneaking her way past security.
No part of you had been able to reason away why you kept that information to yourself. There was no plausible excuse to protect the men who tried to kill you. Still, you can’t help but feel that if murder really had been their plan, you wouldn’t have gotten away that night.
Shuffling through the hospital halls, you keep an arm wrapped tight around your wound as you make your way to Stu’s room.
He seems miserably bored as he flips through channels on his TV. His face lights up when he sees you in the doorway. You chuckle as he tosses his remote away. Beckoning you closer as he pulls back his sheets.
Carefully, you help yourself into his bed, letting out a pained sigh as you try to get comfortable. “Where’s Billy?”
Stu shrugs, “I don’t know, probably using the bathroom. The meds they’ve got us on have me pissing like crazy.”
You let out a little snort and swat his arm. “You’re disgusting.”
Stu catches your hand in his, lacing your fingers together. His eyes bore into the scratchy hospital blanket, stare pensive. You think about offering to bring him something more comfortable when he speaks.
“Do you even like horror movies?”
Your brows furrow. Out of anything he could have said, that was probably the last thing you were expecting. “What?” You let out a disbelieving chuckle and he shrugs.
“We always force you through them on movie night. But I don’t think you’ve ever said you like them.”
You frown, picking at the threads of his fraying blanket. “I don’t know, what’s it matter?”
“Humor me,” he insists, tone unsettling. Looking back up, you nearly pull away. The vacant look in his eyes is disturbing.
“No,” you whisper, feeling like you’re telling him something you shouldn’t. “I don’t like them.”
“Why do you watch them?” He pushes, sitting up until his nose is nearly brushing yours. You would pull back if it didn’t feel like his stare had frozen you to the spot.
“I feel like if I don’t, you guys won’t want to hang out with me anymore.”
“Why would you think that?”
“Why are you asking me all this?” You whisper, eyes burning the longer Stu stares into them. He stays still for a moment, gaze running across yours. With a sharp bark of laughter, he falls back onto his pillows. You jump at the sudden movement and finally realize just how hard your heart is pounding against your ribs. His face cringes with pain as he tugs at his stitches.
“Wanna know my favorite trope?” He brushes past your question, armed with another series of his own. Fingers flexing under his tight grip, you try not to grimace. He doesn’t wait for you to answer.
“The final girl,” he whispers, waving one hand as if it’s some big reveal. “She never goes out. Never parties. Doesn’t care what she looks like,” his grip tightens infinitesimally around yours.
You want to tell him it hurts, but you can’t force the words from your tightened throat. “Always manages to outsmart the killers. She's always so perfect. Except,” he holds up one scolding finger with a sharp grin. “When she helps assholes like me cheat on his homework.”
You jerk back, flesh stinging like you’ve been burned. Stu lets you go, smile creeping ever wider. “What the hell are you saying?” You demand, voice cracking as you get to your feet.
“What’s the matter?” He asks, barely concealing his excitement as you back out of the room. “It’s just a joke,” he needles.
Your back slams into something firm and your breath catches in your throat. “I don’t think we ever asked,” Stu taunts with a chuckle.
Tilting your face back, you see Billy standing behind you, eyes dark and cold as they bore into yours.
Reader is pictured to be plus size but body isn't mentioned.
Ethan Landry played you. That's how it felt after the ghostface attacks. You were totally innocent in all this. You weren't a part of the core 4, you didn't kill Richie, and you didn't even know that the friends you had made happen to be the survivors. You had heard about the kills but never saw faces long enough to recognize. Until it was too late, you liked your friendship with them, and it was over. That's what you thought at least. Now that you sit on the curve as police surround the area everything feels weird.
Meeting Ethan was nice. He was cute, nerdy, and awkward. Honestly everything you wanted in a guy so when y'all started to become close you got excited. You shared classes and even when you didn't you'd find yourself with him minutes after. He'd joke with you, always keeping an eye, and stayed close. Everyone could see that you two had something going. He made you feel so nice and wanted. You always thought you were a pretty girl but admittedly guys from your old area never really went for you. So having his attention even just as friends felt good.
Ethan was awkward, yes... but you always knew confidence hid behind it. He'd hold your hand, fix your hair, and even pull you in closer when he got the chance. Never failed to remind you how talented, smart, and even pretty he found you. Even if he stuttered by the end, that stutter was probably fake now that you think about it. You knew the fake Ethan Landry, not the real Ethan Kirsh. You'd catch glimpses of him though. Like mentioned before, the secret confidence, the possessive pulling you closer, and the glares you'd sometimes catch him giving.
Everyone is rushing all around you while you sit there. Staring at nothing, holding that stupid locket he gave you for your birthday. Days ago everything was okay, October had started, and everyone was excited to go to a party. He pulls you aside "I have something to give you" he gave you that stupid smile. "Me?" You remember how quick your heart started to go. "Yeah...I know it's early but I can't wait" he held the box in his hand. "Happy Birthday" the excitement you felt then now feels hurtful. "Ethan! It's still a couple days away" the velvet box waits for you at home.
Probably waiting to home the locket once again. "I know but...you never know. With how clumsy I can be" clumsy, you could laugh thinking back about it. He always knew how this was going to go, he just didn't know who'd actually survive it. "It's bad luck to say Happy Birthday early" but Ethan just shakes his head at your words. "Open it" he knew you'd always wanted a locket. He had put a picture of you two in it, one Tara had taken. Both of you pressed to each other, exited after winning a stupid prize at the fair. Cheek to cheek to each other with the dumb bear. The same stuffed bear that waits for you at home. "I'll always be with you Y/N"
Tears come to your eyes as you think back to that promise. He will always haunt the narrative. In the past when he made you feel loved. Moments ago when he got crushed by the TV. Now that you sit there alone and thinking. Later when you get home and in the future when you look at the scars. He will always be there.
When he revealed himself the first person he looked at was you. He didn't apologize, no. "You'll understand after" that's what he told you. It was twisted, it gave you hope he always planned for you to survive. Except you didn't give in to turning on the carpenter sisters so easily. You backed up towards Sam in fear of him and wanted her to protect you. Ethan didn't take that well, it was supposed to be the other way. You were supposed to go to him. "Oh, you sweet dumb thing" then all the chaos broke. Quinn managed to get one slice at you. He lost it "Don't touch her! We had a deal! Dad approved!"
He didn't want anyone to hurt you but he wasn't afraid to have to manhandle and scare you. He got you in a corner "you don't understand! This needs to happen! Richie-" in fear you cut him off. "Richie sealed his fate when he attacked with that Amber girl! Are you going to let him write yours too?" That got him for a second "Dad said you could join us, you just need to behave" everything went still for a second. His hand was on your cheek, blood now on it, and he was looking into your eyes. Then everything is shattered again when he hears Quinn scream.
It felt wrong when you felt almost jealous of what he was saying to Tara. You had to hold back a scream when everything was done. You had to hold back from running up to his body and holding him close. You felt like a broken board game. Well played with, loved, left alone, and broken by the end.
You look away from the taunting picture in the locket. From your spot on the curve watching as the core 4 comes together. At the end they all had each other still, yet you had no one. They didn't come up to you, it's not like Chad and Mindy could but they didn't even ask about you. Then Sam and Tara turn back, walking towards you. You stand up, hoping to talk about everything. You need that comfort, maybe some kind of closure! but they keep walking past you. Sam only dropped the last ghostface mask behind her. What felt like another taunt.
Finally you fully break. No soft tears and panic. A full yell and sob that no one seemed to care for. The realization that your life will never be the same. Even weeks after the incident no one that survived checked on you not even the media mentioned your name. Just soft mentions of a 5th survivor but never actually saying your name. You'd be thankful for it if you hadn't gone through so much. Everyone pitied Chad because his so-called best friend betrayed him but what about you? Ethan was basically your boyfriend! He had played you! Hurt you! And you still loved him!
In his own twisted way he loved you too. You never take that locket off, you always sleep with that stuffed bear, and you even managed to get your hands on some of his stuff. Even dead Ethan haunts you. Even dead Ethan plays with you. Even dead you knew he loves you. You now hated the core 4 but not because of Ethan. Because they had forgotten you... If you knew it would end like this...you would've kissed him the moment he took his ghostface mask off. At least you knew he actually cared.
Been on a film kick lately, especially horror, and realllyyyyy wanna write smth for Billy loomis 😭😭😭 I might write an alternate scream universe where ghostface has different motives than killing only bc I don’t know if I wanna write smth that heavy? Like maybe just threats for the sake of getting to the person they want most? Type thing??
Idk I just wanna write being obsessed over by that man. I love thinking of characters whose whole story line is something absolutely insane, but in a context outside of said insane thing, purely for the sake of fiction.
