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[pointed-beetle]

Three's a Crowd (Stu Macher x Murderer!Male Reader x Billy Loomis) Part 2!!!

Part One

Word Count: 1961

T/W, C/W: Very very brief mentioning of readers drugging in the previous part, Stu being awfully promiscuous for one of my fics on this page

Summary: After waking up many hours later and finding yourself in a strangely familiar house you come to the conclusion that maybe you and Stu aren't that different after all. Announcement: I have a secondary blog with non x reader fics and my own personal works! Who knows maybe I'll post on it more often >:)c? Maybe there's something already there for you.

Your head was pounding when you came to, quickly finding that opening your eyes was a mistake as your vision spun. Slowly inhaling you try to gain a sense of your surroundings, keeping your eyes clenched closed. Gradually the feeling of the couch underneath becomes a more solid concept, the texture of the fibres, the throw pillow uncomfortably shoved under your head.

You were on a couch.

You were… On a couch?

You squint into the pale light, relieved that your vision had finally found its purchase as you can get a good look at where you were.

The inside was quaint, the room you found yourself in was decorated in a simple patterned wallpaper, a matching loveseat sat across from a coffee table oddly decorated with mallards, your brows furrowing. Timidly you sit up, planting your hands into the cushions as you sway, clearly still being affected by your spiked beverage.

A plate clicks slowly against a counter behind you, and you can’t gain the courage to turn around, staring out the window. You weren’t in any position to fight, especially if it was one of the two men that took you from the party.

“Oh you weren’t supposed to wake up yet.” Stu’s laugh is nervous as he glances around the room, as if you were two estranged friends that hadn’t seen each other in awhile.

You turn on the couch, looking at the rest of the room before finally landing on Stu, rage slowly growing in you as you start to stand, only momentarily needing support from the couch to stand on your own. Your knuckles were white as you clench your fists, glaring at Stu. You had backed yourself up partially, calves meeting the edge of the short table in front of the couch.

“Well you’re recovering well! Has this happened before?” His smile is bright and mocking, he picks a grape up from the plate he set down, placing it in his mouth as he doesn’t look away from you.

“Where’s the other one?” You snap, eyes quickly darting around the room, only leaving Stu’s form for a few seconds at a time.

“His name is Billy, you dumb creature, and Billy is out with his lovely girlfriend Sidney getting you some medicine to work through your hangover when you wake up because you passed out at the party.” His eye brows raise, a smaller yet still as smug smile sits on his face as he continues to eat.

“I know what his fucking name is.” You hiss, hands searching your person as you nervously slide them into your pockets, a sinking feeling in your stomach as the familiar wooden handle doesn’t meet with your fingertips.

Empty.

Stu chuckles as he watches your hands, cocking his head to the side as he watches a fraction of panic flash onto your face. You calm down much faster upon the realisation you had nothing to fight with, strength or weapons. You were completely under their thumb and all you could do was squirm.

“How long has it been?” Your tone is low, as if Stu was a wild animal you were trying to hush.

He hums in contemplation as he rocks on his heels, looking out the windows to his right as he thinks.

“Five hours?”

Slowly you nod, reaching up to anxiously run your fingers through your hair, scrubbing at your scalp as you try to wrack your thoughts but nothing was coming easy, thoughts jumbled together or less important ones became too loud to focus on what to do next. What were you going to do? Were they holding you here, and were you allowed to just leave? Where was your knife?

You breathe, calming your uncharacteristically shocked nervous system to rest as you peel your eyes away from Stu long enough to get a better look at what living you were in, maybe you had been in this house before during a party. Glancing down the hall, and staring at a particular closet door it hits you where you are, a sudden rush of adrenaline washing over you. You had been inside the home before, just not with permission.

“I assume this is… Sideny’s home? Doesn’t she still live with her father?” Your eyes snap back to Stu, sharply inhaling at how he made his way to the back of the couch you were laying on, the plate of grapes discarded on the counter top.

“Her father is on a trip right now, awfully convenient wouldn’t you say? Makes it easier to walk around and explore without having to avoid someone else huh?” His eyes shine with a knowing look that only fills you with more anger. He had no idea what he was talking about, sporting a cadence like he was talking to someone he knew, about something he knew.

Your silence tells Stu he overstepped, and he slinks back to his plate of grapes, leaning his hip into the counter as he sheepishly looks out the windows again, taking small bites out of a grape.

“We won’t hurt you. At least I won’t, Billy won’t make such a promise.” He’s quick to begin, his words jumbling together, “We know, it all makes sense now. Your bitchiness, why you were so quick to leave Tatum!” He’s excited, and he quickly starts to approach the back of the couch once more, gripping onto the frame tightly as he looks over your body.

“We became competition! You knew all this time because you were in the know, man! I couldn’t understand what your fucking deal was but when Billy opened that little blade of yours?” He chuckles, leaning forward and causing the couch to creak under his weight, “How did you know about us then? About Ghostface?”

You wet your lips, your eyes locked with Stu’s as he talks and asks questions and not giving you any time to answer. His excitement stirred something in the pits of your stomach, and your swallow went down a little easier than all the other times.

“The phone calls,” You’re timid to start, your stomach fluttering in excitement, “I only listened to one, but the way you talk is so unique.”

Stu lights up, climbing over the couch and fully passing the invisible threshold that you had set, his hands gripping onto your shoulders, his hands trembling with profound happiness. You explain everything, how you put things together, how easy it was to figure out because you knew exactly what to look for in them, and how avoiding them was your best bet in case your victims overlapped. It was easier to act like enemies than become quick suspects by hanging around them.

Stu cups your face in his hands, his callouses brushing against your skin and for a moment you felt like a rat under a snake's gaze. The look in his eyes was primal, it wasn’t anything that you had seen him sport before, you didn’t really know Stu but you knew for a fact this was a different side of him, something unhinged and ready to jump out at whatever he could.

He walks forward, giving you no choice but to fall back on the coffee table, knocking books off onto the floor as he hovers over you, leaning down so close that you are breathing the same air.

“Billy’s finally going to understand when he hears all of this, he just wouldn’t get it, what I saw in you was exactly what I wanted and now that it’s been confirmed!!”

This was it, the moment you realised you were being swallowed whole by the snake, having no time to run and only given a moment to squirm before you’re crushed to death.

This is what staring down the jaws of death felt like, what all your victims saw before you claimed their lives for your own. Your lip trembles and all you can do is timidly stare at Stu’s chest as he exposits, trapping you against the table as he excitedly tells you how long he was waiting for you, wanting and craving just to see you in a different light.

The spotlight he aimed at you was hot and overwhelming, you had never been the centre of attention, happily being a well known cold introvert that only went to parties if it was promised one of your friends would be there. This was different than what you were used to, none of your friends had this type of energy, you never even in passing met someone with this much intrigue in you.

You revelled in it, allowed Stu to shower you in his affectionate words, a warmth blossoming throughout your body as he became more intimate, pushing further and further with each nod you provided him.

This is exactly what you wanted, what you were looking for in the things that you did, it was the same feeling you got when your crimes were on the news and the reporters talking about you like some kind of sick bedtime story. This excitement is what you craved.

Stu would be glad to share it with you.

Stu is quick to pull away from you and pull you up from the table when laughter echoes from the top of the stairs. He cleans up the books, and has you settle on the couch, making his way back to the counter, still glowing with unsatiated need as he waves at the two people that enter the room.

Billy is surprised to see you sitting on the couch, looking so calm, and greeting Sidney with a warmth he didn’t expect as she approached you with medicine and a drink. He looks over at Stu, who just gives him his usual large smile, though something lingered, and he knew exactly what it was about, and suddenly he was irritated that Sidney was here, that he hadn’t been here to see the moment that you cracked.

He stands next to Stu, partaking in his plate of grapes as they watch you talk with Sidney.

“They said you passed out at the party, with the way Tatum talked about you it was surprising to hear. Someone so responsible getting black out drunk like that.”

You smile at her, fingers brushing against hers as you take everything from her, a soft thanks escaping her as you let her finish talking about how surprised she was to hear about the news of you. She almost seemed worried, Tatum must’ve talked about you far more than you thought, and in a better light than you assumed she was capable of.

“Unfortunately, one of my more rowdy friends had managed to talk me into it, and I allowed myself to get carried away, thankfully Stu and Billy had been there to help me, otherwise I would’ve sat in my car and probably fell asleep.”

She casts an affectionate smile towards her boyfriend, surprised by his act of kindness though not scolding him for acting uncharacteristically.

Stu nudges Billy, chuckling as Sidney continues to talk with you, asking you how you enjoyed the party and who was there. “They were pissed when they woke up… I thought if I got too close they’d clock me even while still woozy.”

Billy laughs softly, glancing out the window as the sun starts shining through the windows and lighting up the living room, a glint of something catching your eye as you glance away from Sidney, spotting your knife to the side of her TV set.

It was in arms reach this whole time and you hadn’t allowed yourself to look away from Stu the whole time.

How well would this have gone if you had noticed?

Who’s blood would be staining the hardwood floor just under their feet?

[pointed-beetle]

Guess what, it's not a fic losers

Well, well, well If it isn't another post that yet again is not another fic, how embarrassing for people wanting updates

TL;DR I will be making a new blog with my personal works and fics that won't be X reader, also here is my Ao3 which will contain longer form series Also this blog is not abandoned just on hiatus until I make something

Hi! Hello :)!! I'll be honest, for the past, however long since my last fic was I've not felt the same creative drive that I once had when it came to writing my X reader fics It has nothing to do with the amount of activity or exposure I was receiving it was more X readers were and are something that I can write quickly enough and get my creative flow out there when nothing else seems to work However!! That is not writing altogether, and I have great news for people that enjoy my writing and maybe don't mind what I write as long as they get to read it!! The first place will be my Ao3, currently, there are only two fics and one of them was discontinued around the same time that this blog went dead, but the other one is currently ongoing!

Better news, for those of you that only consume things on Tumblr, or at least prefer to only read things on the Hellsite I have great news for you too! I will be making an alternate blog specifically for my own things, whether that be snippets of my original work or simply fics that do not fit into the x Reader space. However, I will be keeping one-shots to Tumblr and Tumblr only, so if you find yourself interested in longer-form series I highly recommend that you check out my Ao3 when more things get uploaded there, I will keep the blog updated for whenever new chapters are posted for their respective stories.

Last but not least, this blog will not be abandoned, as I do have quite a few drafts for x readers in the works that are just taking a little more scrutinising than they once did, I promise it every few months but there WILL be content here again you just need to give me some time.

I anticipate like 2% of my following will see this, including my best friend Max, hello Max :) Hope work was good

However, thank you to the ones that aren't my best friend that keep up with my updates no matter how long in between they are, stay hydrated, Monster is not a hydrating drink And thank you for your time :)

[pointed-beetle]

Damn this is awkward I haven't posted in Checks watch 2 years Been going through a lot, both with writing and just personally in my life I've been trying my best to write fics, I don't know when the soonest will be but hopefully something will come within the year Thank you so much for reading my dingy little fics while I've been gone At some point content soon

[pointed-beetle]

Friendly reminder that this blog is pro-choice and if you don’t think everyone should have full control of their own body, then kindly unfollow me right now and go to hell

[pointed-beetle]

Catch me saying I was going to update things and then dealing with a whole bunch of medical things to try to locate the pains in my body

I almost have 100 followers and for what, the five stories I have posted and then a whole lot of nothing Papa Torke would be proud of my mass inactivity

[pointed-beetle]

go drink water. this is a threat.

I forgot my waterbottle at hoooome

I'm gonna dehydrate at workkkkk

[pointed-beetle]

> : ) H el l o to anyone that reads this ramble Uhm I just want to say :) That if you're a writing blog and you have a fucking "She/Her She/They She/He She/It DNI" tag, line, or stamp before your writings DON'T FUCKING INTERACT WITH ME Take your misogyny SOMEWHERE ELSE. Sorry, a woman said she liked your work, you fragile idiot. Just because a FEMALE interacts with your work doesn't mean it fucking disappears in the male space, sorry you don't want more exposure to your work. Cry somewhere else women "Make you uncomfortable" because she left a like on the thing that she liked, guess she needs better standards than someone that's from the 1840's.

[pointed-beetle]

beetle time!!

how've you been, man? drinking water? taking time to yourself?

>:))) Thank you for asking now I can bother ANOTHER person. I went to see Morbius with my best friend today and drank almost TWO whole glasses of water during the dinner they treated me to before the movie Fantastic as a vampire movie, kind of iffy on it being a good movie though :(

[pointed-beetle]

I am now less insecure about being a lesser rat man, thank you Eli :)

Are you smarter than 5 gay rats

:( No I'm only three gay rats pretending to be a person they out smart me by two :((( This is so rude

[pointed-beetle]

Hi hello :)

I'm very sorry for the lack of updates I've been stressed out about my cat getting fixed the past month and she just got the surgery this afternoon (as of March 23rd 2022) and she is my top concern right now

Hopefully in a few weeks when I feel she's healed enough I'll focus on updates to stories :)!!

Here's a picture of her being super sleepy and in pain

Have a good night and morning :)!

[pointed-beetle]

Xmas spirit

Billy x Stu x Male!Reader commission for @pointed-beetle ! hope ya like it bud

Warnings for violence, blood, cursing, etc

Stu organizes some kick-ass parties, it was no surprise. His parents often left the house for him, money for food along with a lot of unsupervised time. He used it to his advantage whenever he could. This time, Stu decided he was going to get people wasted on Christmas. 

Billy laid on Stu’s bed, throwing one of his signed baseball balls up and down in his hand. The party would start in about an hour, but Billy rarely left his house anyway. Stu put on his stupid robe and checked himself out on his mirror. “So, a lotta people are coming tonight, the boys, the girls-, and-,“ 

"And him. I know,” Billy says, throwing the ball again and catching it. “Remember the rules this time,” he points at him. Stu pretends to be hurt, his hand going up to his chest, “damn man, you think that low of me? Ouch,” his face scrunching up as he laughs, sticking his tongue out as he looks back at the mirror, “it’s gonna be fun!" 

Keep reading

[pointed-beetle]

To the anon that asked this I want you to know that you have put my best friend out of commission over this post, its been almost 20 minutes and they haven't stopped laughing, I hope your day is fantastic

Are you smarter than 5 gay rats

:( No I'm only three gay rats pretending to be a person they out smart me by two :((( This is so rude

[pointed-beetle]

Are you smarter than 5 gay rats

:( No I'm only three gay rats pretending to be a person they out smart me by two :((( This is so rude

[pointed-beetle]

Troublesome Scientist (R'ka x Jeremy)

This is based in the universe that my friend @wthtorke has made with his character R'ka shipped with my human character Jeremy, I've had some brain rot of these two since I've talked about it with him and I expect this to drown and die (as well as a VERY briefly mentioned Kjuhte and Kaail)

TL;DR Torke owns everything but Jeremy

Word count: 1874

Warnings: Workplace abuse, stressful work conditions, mild glass inflicted wounds not described, mild blood, swearing

The hallways were silent and darkened, most of the life ceasing along the corridors that lead to and from this department of the ship. A singular station in the lab lit with a lamp, littered with notes and empty or broken test tubes, drops of blood trailing along the top of the counter before ceasing altogether before the very edge. Some laughter echoed through the metal hallway from the few departments run by shift exchanges. A man with a long white cover-up coat bunched up at his elbows stands in front of a cabinet thrown open, his heavy and tired eyes staring at the mess he was making by letting his hand bleed onto the once sterile floor, a frustrated noise escaping him in the form of a sigh before he grabs the necessary materials. He walks back to his table, clearing off the shards of glass before sitting down and tending to his hand, very carefully pulling chips from the side of his hand, a bored look on his face as he drops the blood-stained shards into the biohazard bin by his station. He quickly scrubs and covers his hand by the sink, looking back at the mess he made, and clenching his jaw, an exhausted yawn pulling him back to the reality where he needed to clean, not stare at it in anger.

Finally, he sits back at his seat, shoving his hand into his short curls and pulling at them as he takes notes, a heavyweight sitting on the top of his back as he translates the alien language that many of the humans on his team could not read. He sighs, rubbing at the side of his face with his injured hand in a frustrated manner. Eventually, he drops his coat onto the ground and adjusts his posture to push through the remaining translations. A whole cycle had passed before he had the chance to finish, his co-workers slowly filing in a few surprised at how early the man had been. He sends them a forced smile, sipping at the bitter energy drink he managed to find in the food fridge. “Jeremy did you finish the tests that Kj-” Jeremy cuts them off with a sip of his drink while he sifts through the paper that littered his area, handing them over and waving them off and going back to writing. His hand hurt, the muscle having locked up multiple times in the hours that he had been writing. He glares up from the edge of his glasses when another person approaches his desk, a swell of frustration and rage flowing through him before he takes a deep breath and carefully sets his pen down, entirely looking up at the Yautja that stood patiently in front of his desk. “Jeremy, we need those notes. Have you even been working on them? They should’ve been done long before now.” The male breathes in slowly, the breath shaky as he stands up carefully from his chair, taking a moment to organise his documents, wetting his lips before he speaks. “This is above 40 hours of notes taken, in a language that I have only been learning for the past five years, and that was given to me at the supposed end of my shift.” He pauses, taking a sip from the aluminium can before he smiles dangerously at the creature in front of him, tapping the drink down aggressively. “I have been awake for well over 12 hours, and I would like to request you fuck off until they are ready because you refuse to request classes for the other humans to learn your blasted language.” At this point, he was sneering his teeth at the creature in front of him. Hands pressed firmly into the tabletop, a stern, exhausted glare fixed into the other’s eyes. The alien looks at him incredulously, a snarl escaping him as he gets up in Jeremy’s face, causing the drink to spill over the male’s front. “You will NOT speak to me that way, or I will have your ass washing the bolts that the engineers use for the rest of your LIFE, you meat bag. So get the fucking notes done.” Jeremy barks out a laugh, flicking at his shirt and pulling it away from his skin, his jaw trembling from how hard he was clenching it at this point. “I’d like to see you try to get rid of me.” He snaps back, backing up from the table and shoving the notes towards the alien, “If you want them done so bad, why don’t YOU translate them.” He smiles at the creature and walks out after snatching up his coat from the floor, kicking the now empty can into a wall and down the corridors to a new open spot, his breathing heavy and shaky as he rushes past the morning shift, slowly making their way to their sections.

At some point, he finds a spot he can decompress, a dry sob erupting from him at his still wet and now sticky shirt as Jeremy pulls it as far away from his body as he can, his fingers trembling. He hated his job. He hated the people. Why couldn’t he go back to a nobody on Earth where he could disappear into the dirt and rot.

It was hard not to overhear conversations in the cockpit of the ship, they weren’t shoulder to shoulder, but the area was small enough to where unless you were speaking in whispers, everyone could hear everyone’s business. R’ka hadn’t meant to hear the complaint discussed with the Captain. His job was to figure out where they were according to the nearby satellites and direct the best path for the pilot to follow, but the area was just so tiny, and his hearing was oh so good. “He CAN NOT work in my lab anymore. He starts fights with the other scientists and doesn’t cooperate with anyone, refusing any help.” The Yautja’s tusks click together in an aggravated manner as he crosses his arms in front of the elite, the elder Yautja humming as he looks the male over for a moment. “Jeremy Morrison is allowed on this ship because he was an exceptional scientist on Earth with an even more impressive comprehension of our language. He worked fine on Earth, and his breakthroughs there is what led to his place on this ship.” The captain pauses to adjust his cape, a calm look to his demeanour, “From what both my pilots have viewed after doing their routine inspection for camera malfunction Mister Morrison was sat at his desk since all of you had walked out till about an hour ago, I think he listens very well to orders and even sacrifices his health for it. So perhaps you should be the one redirected for the lower levels of the ship that you deem so worthy of punishment.” The pilot lets out a loud snort as he types away at a keyboard, sending a report to another part of the ship, not at all hiding his eavesdropping. The scientist leaves, exasperated and like he’s about to pass out from anger, his cape flapping behind him in a sort of added demeaning way. R’ka is quick to excuse himself, mumbling to his partner about how he would be right back before making his way to the current pilot. Kaail’s mandibles spread in an amused manner when R’ka asks about the scientist that the Captain was speaking of, something in him buzzing with excitement as Kaail plays a clip of Jeremy getting in the other Yautja’s face. His mandibles click together in a sort of frustrated manner when he watches the drink soak into his clothes. Kaail chuckles at him, crossing his arms over his chest plate and leaning back into his chair, leaning his arm forward to flick through the cameras and aiming them at R’ka once more. “He’s in corridor E if you want to go help him out.” His tone is teasing and snarky as he turns the monitor away and gets back to work, the alien snickering when R’ka pivots and walks out, contacting his human partner to ask to borrow a shirt from their quarters.

“You made your head scientist almost blow a blood vessel.” R’ka chuckles behind the human, amused when he jumps and spins his head around from his seating spot, gripping onto his still wet shirt before a shaky sigh escapes him. “Navigator... You shouldn’t sneak up on people to tell them that they’re fired.” He chuckles a bit, turning back and staring out the viewing glass, sighing at the planet that they were closely passing. “From the conversation I listened to, I think your boss is more on the outs than you are.” He reassures, taking the spot next to Jeremy when the man offers it by shifting to the side to make room for the giant creature. R’ka passes him the shirt, and Jeremy gratefully takes it. The man is quick to peel off his shirt and slap it onto the floor after using it to try to rub off what was left of the wetness on his skin, pulling on the new fabric and sighing at the more comfortable feeling. “Your skin is gorgeous...” R’ka speaks softly, rubbing his thumb into his palm and tilting his head to get a better view of the other’s face, following the shapes of lighter skin colour that littered his otherwise dark cheeks. Jeremy's a little startled by the compliment, an uncomfortable chuckle escaping him though he’s quick to cut off R’ka’s apology. “No, you did nothing wrong, Navigator; people usually try not to point it out, so the compliment startled me. Thank you, though; it’s an autoimmune disorder. My immune system attacks my melanocytes, making my usually brown skin white. The doctors on Earth call it Vitiligo. It used to just be on my hands...” He mumbles the last part, looking down at his hands and showing off the backs of them; R’ka wanted so badly to reach over and grab them. The Navigator nods along, gesturing instead of verbally asking to touch his hand and internally celebrating when Jeremy holds out his hand to take. The human’s body temperature rises when R’ka rubs over the splotches, carefully tracing his claw along the edges. “I suppose you should get used to the compliments then because as your new friend, I’m not going to stop.” R’ka boldly claims a nervous sort of tremor to his heart and a joyous expression quickly pulling at his tusks when Jeremy responds positively. “I suppose I could get used to someone so nice being my friend...” Jeremy hums, carefully taking his hand away and looking out the window in front of them once more, leaning back into the seat. “So, Navigator, I suppose you know my name, I assume through swears. I think I should learn yours, no?” R’ka is a little surprised by the offhand comment. Did the lead scientist complain that much about Jeremy? “R’ka.” He firmly says, holding out his hand and warming when Jeremy quickly puts his comparably small one into his hand. “Nice to meet you, R’ka, and thank you for the shirt.”

[pointed-beetle]

Authority.

Commission done for my friend @pointed-beetle! Hope you like it!

Professor!Asa x Male!Reader (The Collector x Male!Reader)

Warnings: Violence, explicit sex, bruises, dom and sub dynamics and so on! Very 18+ jkf

THIS IS 🌟F I L T H Y 🌟YOU’VE BEEN WARNED

Asa didn’t often get attached to people outside of his hotel. Not because there weren’t interesting people outside of it but because there was no point. If he liked something, he took it. Plain and simple. He kept away from his students because he couldn’t risk taking those. Not because he couldn’t take them. He could if he wanted to. But he wouldn’t risk all of his projects because of a single student that stirred something in him.

Though he had to admit, he had his favorites. For one, he liked entomology. His profession wasn’t entirely a cover. He hated being a teacher, but he loved being an entomologist. Every once in a while, one of his students would share his interest in it. Even if he made it difficult for them to relate to him. To get near him.

Keep reading

[pointed-beetle]

Long Summer (Tom Riddle X Gryffindor!Male Reader) Part 3 of 4

Ravenclaw Part, Hufflepuff Part Word Count: 1865 Summary: It had been a while since your graduation and even longer since your last physical interaction with the younger Slytherin that you had known during your school years. Unfortunately, his request to stay with you now that he was 18 forces you to confront the feelings you had developed through the letters the two of you would pass back and forth. Warnings: Mild Unrequited love, Tom is 18 reader is at least 22, no use of Y/N

The day had been burning hot, wilting a few unlucky plants and causing the ice in your chosen drinks to melt a multitude of times prematurely. The lake on the property had sparkled brilliantly and shown off the many fish that lived in the slight murkiness, their scales reflecting the light before disappearing behind the plants that littered the surface. You owned the summer home that sat within a well-kept flower field, far away from muggle eyes, so you could use your magic without the fear of being spotted. You had almost forgotten your years at Hogwarts within your solitude, carefully tending to your tomatoes which had been eaten by some pest that lurked in the tall grass. All of your Gryffindor things, including the scarf you wore during your Quidditch games, were long forgotten in a trunk somewhere in a closet. That is until you received an owl from Tom Riddle, sighing at his familiar and neat cursive, tilting your head while reading what he had to say this week.

You had graduated in Tom’s fourth year. This would be the first time that you’d seen Tom Riddle be so emotional over something, gripping onto the fronts of your robes and staring off to the side, tears brimming his eyes. You smile at him and ruffle up his hair, gently pressing your thumbs over his eyes. He scoffed and quickly batted your hands away, letting go of your robes and shoving his hands into his own pockets, still refusing to look at you. He lit up a little when you said that you’d keep up with him and he could send owls to your home whenever he wanted, but it wasn’t the same. He couldn’t visit you all the time to make up for the years of not physically seeing you.

You sigh and set down the letter that Tom had sent you in your lap, rubbing at your eyes and settling down in your sofa, your eyebrows knitting together while you thought.

His letter was a request of spending his summer with you. Since he was 18, he could leave the orphanage and find his own place, and you knew he’d need a home during the holidays that littered his final year as well. The request had not surprised you, and you knew it would come up eventually. Being his only adult friend that he could rely on was somewhat troublesome, at times feeling like you were raising the boy yourself with some of the advice and help he’d ask for over letters. You had a hard time answering some of his relationship questions, a few of those letters still sitting on your desk unanswered and taunting. It took you until dinner to finally write a response to Tom. You were nervous no one had been in your home for well over a year, and you had no idea how the city boy would adjust to the countryside or its heat. You sigh against your pint of Pimm’s, staring over your handwriting to make sure that you had written what you wanted, leaning back in the chair to wait for the ink to dry on the parchment, tapping your nail against your glass. How were you going to confront what you’ve internally built up for Tom before he arrived to stay?

You prepared your home for Tom over the month, sighing out in exhaustion when you finally prepared a spot for him to sleep. Hopefully, it suited his standards and even added new foods to your cupboards and practising cooking with them, rather joyful when you figured out good combinations that would last the whole summer. You sat on your porch waiting for Tom. It was very early in the morning, the fireflies starting to flicker away and disappear into the grass, along with a few of the mystical beasts on your property, watching glowing eyes and listening to fluttering wings die down for the day. The sun had started to turn the sky a lovely pink and light blue when Tom apparated by your lake, a warmth growing through your body at how he had grown, a sigh escaping you as you stand up and tug at your collar to try to let the momentary cool morning air calm you down before Tom got closer. You shove your hands in your pockets as he makes his way through the path, the slightest of smiles on his face as he reaches you, looking at you for a moment before dropping his luggage and wrapping his arms around you, a started gasp escaping you. “Merlin, you’re tall now.” You mumble to him, awkwardly hugging him back and giving him a slight pat on the back. He chuckles and pulls away, holding you by the shoulders at arm’s length, a sly smirk spreading onto his face before he lets you go, a nervous feeling kicking up in your stomach before you lead the boy inside, gesturing towards the area that he would call home for the year, waiting for him to set down his things and get more comfortable before leading him around your home. As you reach your greenhouse, you finally ask what he was smiling about so cheekily on the porch, a barking laugh escaping him as he crouches in front of some of your fruits, lightly touching at their blooming buds. “Nothing, you need to concern yourself with my friend.” He replies simply, looking at you over his shoulder before standing up and lightly shoving you back by your shoulder, chuckling as you scoff and lead him to the kitchen, making him breakfast and sitting across from him, holding a warm cup of coffee in your hands and watching him eat.

Tom lets his hand fall from his eyes, blocking out the sun shining around him, letting the limb splash into the cold water of the lake, causing curious fish to dart away and hide quickly, his hard, piercing eyes glaring up at the tops of the trees. He floated idly on the lake on a floatie, the sun beating down on his exposed skin. He learned quickly to use protective spells when he was outside from now on, seeing as the heat was a constant, and you’d have his ass if he burnt one more time out here before summer was even halfway through. He thought about you when he went out on the lake, the only interrupting noise being the creatures that lived around you, mumbling about the new wizard on the premises, about how strange the one that they had grown accustomed to was acting strangely the last month. He sighs, pushing his wet hand through his hair and covering his eyes again. Your mannerisms with him were sweet; you almost treated him like a younger sibling. Making sure that he was well fed and adjusting quickly to the new life. Tom’s thoughts linger too long on the moments that your hand ruffled his hair or the way you looked scolding him for skipping meals. A frustrated sigh escapes him as he rolls off the raft and dives down into the water, clearing his head of the complicated thoughts in the freezing water, letting out all the air in his lungs and staying submerged for as long as his lungs can handle. When Tom climbs out to go and look for you, dripping with water, he finds you outside preparing tonight’s meal, lighting a grill with your wand by lightly tapping the side, a sigh escaping you as you watch the flames build high for a moment before dying down. Tom’s hand on your back causes you to suck in air as you snap your head towards him to glare, your gaze softening at his wet rat appearance. “Can you still not find the towels?” You sigh, touching at his hair before rolling your eyes and heading inside, digging through a closet and finding one of Tom’s designated towels and heading back outside, going to work on his hair. “I don’t care that it’s hot; this is how you get sick...” You scoff, carefully wiping at water droplets on his face, not noticing the fixed stare that Tom has on you as you make sure that his hair is dry enough, so it’s no longer dripping water. The sun had begun to set when the grill was finally ready to use, Tom placing the various items onto the grate and closing the top while you set up fireworks in the distance, fireflies landing on you and lighting up your frame at the same time as you work, Tom laughing when you cringe and wave your arms to get one away from your ear. When did he start thinking of you so differently?

You stall over at the fireworks, pretending like you’re making sure they’re all ready as you get lost in your thoughts, your fingers ruthlessly pinching at a fuse as your heart races at the feeling of Tom’s eyes scraping over your frame, that same nervous feeling from a month ago fluttering in your stomach as you make your way back to the deck, grinning at the male. “What’s up?” You hum, making your way over to him and sitting next to his spot, settling your head against his knee. He shakes his head in response, timidly touching at your hair before fully running his fingers through the locks and staring off into the field, carefully pulling through the tiny knots that littered your hair. “I don’t know what to do about you.” Tom begins, his hand stilling in your hair as you tilt your head up to look at him, “You only view me as a sibling, yet I can’t stand how you touch me in such a friendly way with no ulterior motives. I find myself lingering on your form like you’re some girl on the beach. I want more than friendly touches.” His voice is soft as he timidly meets your gaze, his breath catching in his throat at the look that you had trained on him. Your teeth worrying your bottom teeth for a moment before your break the eye contact and use your magic to adjust the food, shifting yourself on the deck and leaning into Tom’s hand. Tom sighs and gently grabs your face, cradling it in both of his hands and forcing you to change positions, now kneeling in front of him as you refuse to look at him, your face burning hot between his cold palms. “Can I kiss you?” His voice is barely a whisper as he rubs his thumbs into your skin, amused by your cowardly lack of eye contact. Your nod barely registers as any movement, but of course, Tom catches it, one of his mocking chuckles saying everything that you knew he would say for how uncharacteristically small you were being. You grip at his thighs when he leads your head up, and your lips meet, your nails digging crescent shapes into his skin through his trousers. The fire dies down eventually due to your lack of concentration, thankfully so, as both it and the food are quickly forgotten on the back porch that night.

[pointed-beetle]

Three's a Crowd (Stu Macher x Murderer!Male Reader x Billy Loomis)

Word Count: 2507

Summary: After slipping through the men's fingers far too many times, Billy gave up on trying to make you one of Ghostface's victims. Although unknown to the men that start slowly taking an interest in you and your habits, you're aware of their tricks due to your own little hobby.

Warnings: !!!Drugging!!! !!!Descriptions of symptoms from being drugged!!! from the marked yellow sentence will begin the trigger for the rest of the fic, swearing, no use of Y/N

A long awaited Part Two is now out!

You were known for being hard to contact when you got into your car to drive home. The chances of you picking up the phone might as well have been the equivalent of sending a bird with a message wrapped around its leg.

Of course, they knew the number to your landline, and they had called it numerous times at one point, filling the answering machine with threats and even pleads to pick up. You cleared the device without listening to a single message.

Billy had been frustrated by it, nearly breaking his mobile phone by squeezing it in his hand, clenching his jaw and letting out a hot, irritated huff of breath; everything usually always went the way that he planned.

Stu, however, found it excellent, he loved challenges, and the fact that you were a mystery as soon as the bell rang was exciting.

Following you home was already frustrating with the new curfew in place. A murderer had been making sweeps through the town. Affectionately called the “Date Night Killer” by the newsmen and women that stood outside victims homes, trying to get glimpses of the aftermath of the horrible crimes.

It was infuriating when the home you stayed at and the roads you took changed every time you turned away from the school.

Billy busted up his knuckles punching his steering wheel, when a girl with long brown hair and a blinding smile opened the door and invited you in.

They had been at it for months, and he was exhausted. It was like you knew what they were up to. After you had stayed at your friend’s place until Monday and left with a fresh pair of clothes on, he had to call it quits; they would figure out the location to your home some other way.

You were never friendly to them in school. Even though you were very friendly with Tatum, you stayed very far away from the boys, but after Casey and Steve had been found dead by Casey’s parents, you were quick to cut contact with Tatum, fully isolating yourself from the group at the school and glaring at the boys when they were talking outside of a classroom.

Tatum sobbed over the loss of your friendship, enraged that you had broken off a four-year-long company because she had started to date Stu after Casey’s death. You should’ve been happy for her! You were being selfish.

Every time Billy caught eyes with you, he would sneer at you, and you would roll your eyes back at him. He thought you were being rude. But, from what he knew, you were just being an asshole because you could. Not because you were aware of who they were even before the news had hit.

Though Billy and Stu thought that there was no way you knew what they were up to, it would be astronomical.

The irony.

You found it excellent in an idiotic way, over how they hadn’t picked up on why you were so keen to their tactics, so aware of what they were trying to do when stalking you, who was trying to call you and keep you on the line long enough to find your home.

Casey and Steve’s death had been such the talk of the town because the MO was so different from the Date Night Killer. Their method was so clean and detailed, while this one was messy, thought out but clearly meant to send some sort of message.

People were terrified over the prospect of two murderers being in their sleepy little town. The likelihood of this scenario was so small that it was almost numbing. Indeed, some of them had to of been fake.

For a while, you thought Stu had known, with how he would stare at you and flash smiles at you when you would glare at him and sneer at him to try to scare him away.

Stu found you fascinating. You were so unique from everyone else. In fact, you kind of reminded him of Billy quite a bit, minus the apathetic and sour attitude that he usually sported.

You were calculated and closed off, but the people you did talk to, your friends, got to see you smile and laugh. So he couldn’t help but stare when he caught you chatting a girl up, leaning her into a locker, smiling and laughing with her. He found you kind of pretty if he were being honest.

The killer found your mannerisms very familiar and comfortable, like he could go up to you and talk to you, and he knew exactly what you would respond with.

So then, why were you so adverse to their group? You would fit in just fine. It was clear to him from Tatum’s stories about you that you would be able to slip in, and they would have no trouble adjusting you to fit in with them.

What was your fucking deal?

He had nervously brought it up to Billy one time, admitting that you found you much more entertaining than he originally planned, swallowing thickly and saying that he would probably have a hard time playing their usual cat and mouse game from now on.

Of course, Billy was pissed, but this was Stu. He needed to think a little more rationally than he did with Sidney instead of just cutting through the words and making him feel horrible for even voicing his feelings. A frustrated sigh escapes him as he stops Stu from rambling on, leaning against the nearest object to try to collect his thoughts before starting slowly at first, his eyebrows knitted together.

“I... Agree, that they have...” He sighs, rubbing at the corners of his eyes before pressing the pads of his fingers into his eyelids so hard he sees fireworks, “Interesting traits that make me want to understand more outside of the usual hunt.”

Tatum had brought up the suggestion of a double date around lunchtime, barely touching her food as she explained the plans she had vaguely gone over with Sid to see if everyone would have fun, bouncing in her seat and grinning when the other three agreed.

Though when the final bell rang, and they were walking down the hallway towards one of the exit doors, Billy let out a frustrated barking laugh when Tatum caught sight of you and quickly ran to snatch up your wrist.

She sucked at keeping up with her plans.

A frustrated almost growl escapes you as you turn around to face Tatum, pulling off your headphones and pausing the Walkman that sat heavily at the side of your bag, wetting your lips and glaring so hard at her Stu thought the poor girl would catch on fire.

She had finally caught you after weeks of attempts and only ended in harsh cold shoulders, causing her to cry a few times, and she had many things to say to you. But, before she even began, you carefully peeled her hand from your shirt, eyeing Stu, who was clearly going to listen in to the whole conversation but pretend like he was invested in the one that Billy and Sidney were having.

Sid was trying to distract Billy from his growing irritation.

Tatum was heartbroken, to say the least. You were a great friend to her, and seeing you pretend like you hadn’t even known her for the past few years had hurt, to say the least. She sometimes found herself staring up at her ceiling in distraught, wondering if she was the one in the wrong and if she should apologise to you.

Of course, she was a little strong-headed, and she expected an apology from you, brushing her off to the side because one guy was petty to her. You could’ve gotten over whatever pathetic annoying thoughts you had over Stu.

“I just want an apology! You just!!! Left??” She scoffs, her lips trembling as she crosses her arms, looking away from you.

“Tatum, you knew my boundaries, and you still broke them by dating him.” Your voice was stern. The absolution in your voice almost ended the conversation there. She had broken the one rule you had. Though Stu continued to not so subtly watch her could tell you were uncomfortable. You never wanted to be confronted by Tatum over this.

She huffs, and her eyebrows knit together tightly. She’s started to shake her head like a toddler, her blonde hair slipping from her shoulders, from that perfect curl that you would usually reach over and fix when it fell. Instead, your hands stayed passively by your sides, sometimes awkwardly slipping into your pants pockets.

“I just don’t understand what your deal with Stu is!! He’s just a big dork, and I thought you would be happy for me!” She scoffs, stomping her heel into the tiled floor and crossing her arms under her chest, your jaw visibly tightening; she had no idea who Stu was.

A hot, frustrated sigh hisses past your teeth as you adjust your posture, practically looming over her at this point. You push loose hair out of your face and glance over your shoulder for a moment, shoving your hands roughly into your pocket and shifting something around in the left one, rolling it against your palm.

“Tatum, I don’t need to explain jack shit to you. You knew what I was comfortable with and you said fuck it anyway. I’m glad you have a boyfriend and very happy for you, but I don’t want to associate with you if it’s going to be Stu Macher.”

Your fist is tight around the object. Tatum was pushing you to an emotional limit that you were starting to feel overwhelmed by. You gave her your answer why couldn’t she just leave it alone.

Tatum opens her mouth to keep talking, but you’re quick to lift your hand into her face. You turn away and walk away, glaring at Stu on your way to the parking lot.

Your fingers were shaking, and your ears were ringing from your rising anger. Tatum never knew when to just stop, trying to force an answer that she wanted to hear.

Billy had been enjoying his conversation with Sid, laughing at her snarky comments before a glint of something reflecting the noon sun shone into his eye.

At first, he thought it was just a car that annoyingly caught the sun, though when Billy looked over and he saw you adjust a foldable knife in your palm, he was much more intrigued by you at that moment.

He’s quick to snap his eyes back to Sid so she doesn’t look back at you and see what he clearly was not supposed to know. You had no need for self-defence. As far as you knew, you weren’t one of the possible victims for either of the murderers in Woodsboro.

How unfortunate that Stu and Billy had been invited to the same party as you.

How unfortunate you had no idea, and because it was your friends home, you were a lot more comfortable and showing a side that Billy felt weird seeing. You were so calm. Laughing and dancing with people, holding cups for girls and harming people that weren’t the girls trying to take them from you.

How unfortunate you were not as wary of your cup.

You were quick to realise what was happening, trying to find a friend in your dazed and increasingly distorting vision, the lights growing much too bright and streaking across your pupils like paint.

Faces blurred together, and everything was too loud and then much too quiet. You could only barely feel the vibrations of the booming music under your increasingly heavy limbs.

You desperately step outside, gasping at the cold air and holding your face. You felt so hot and irritated from just the slightest touches of the fabric of your shirt on your chest. You were determined to not fall asleep, panting and leaning heavily against your car. Your breathing was hard and laboured due to panic, but the drug trying so hard to shut down your body.

Eventually, you succumb to a mild blackout, eyes rolling back into their sockets, your once secure purchase against your vehicle slipping.

Luckily for you, you wake up from your intense disorientation in time to catch yourself, and unfortunately, scrape the hell out of your hands and knees, sweat starting to drip from the tip of your nose onto the ground.

Billy sighs as he walks over to you, Stu lagging behind him, trying to act like he was trying to keep up with the man through the crowds.

He crouches down beside you and touches your back, a startled gasp escaping you. Though your pathetic excuse of trying to slap away the hand was almost laughable, you could barely move your shaking arms that were barely keeping you from fully laying on the sidewalk.

“You’re going to make yourself very sick if you keep fighting it,” Billy speaks matter of factly, looking over his shoulder momentarily when Stu approaches, frowning a bit at how uncomfortable you looked. You were making this much too hard on yourself.

Your speech is slurred, a loopy and uncharacteristic smile on your face as you finally let yourself lean your hot cheek into the cooling ground, squinting at the men in the dark.

“You...” Your voice is barely above a whisper, but they could hear you enough, “I kno...w, what..?? Who!! Who you are!” You chuckle, trying to lift yourself from the ground, a startled gasp escaping you when the intense burning from your bleeding palms shoots through your entire arm.

“Gho...stface, is... Stupid...” You mumble, letting Billy gently push you into the sidewalk so wouldn’t keep harming yourself.

Though he almost entirely slammed your skull into it when you were so casual about your admittance of their identity.

It was almost hard to believe you, but something so hard tugged at him, panic almost. What would you gain from lying? Your behaviour around them made so much more sense.

“...You’re... sl...sloppyyy...” You were telling the ground at this point, cheek pressed so hard into the concrete that Billy was sure it would leave a mark for a few hours. Tears started streaming down your face as you flip your palms to the sky, the throbbing pain from your wounds being the only thing keeping you grounded and from entirely passing out.

Your voice eventually gave out, they had assumed that you thought you were speaking, but your eyes, finally snapping closed, told them that your fighting was finally over.

“This is far more complicated than I anticipated, Stu.” He sighs, touching at your hair before standing up and tugging you up, grunting a bit at your dead weight but easily carrying you nonetheless, “Perhaps you will have your way.” He chuckles, looking at the male and much appreciating the help as they move you to Stu’s car to drive you to Sid’s place.