futuremrscameron

[futuremrscameron]

Red Licorice: (Scream x Black Reader) Chapter Fourteen: Kiss and Tell

“What the hell do you two think you're doing?!” - Billy Loomis 

14

(Y/N) laid her head back on the couch on her third cupcake of the night, watching as the drunk teens roamed around the room, watched the movie with hazy eyes. In her opinion, there was no point in watching a horror movie if you were going to get blackout drunk while doing it. They were so unfocused, they wouldn't stop talking, nor did they interact with the scenes anymore.

Randy even seemed bored out of his mind, staring at the movie as if it was his job too. He gave up on commentary earlier, finding that no one was really interested in his baited banter or analogies of horror cliches on how to survive. 

As the crowd started to trickle out due to curfew, (Y/N)looked over at Randy. She noticed the way he laughed– a quintessential sparkle in his eye at the half-baked jokes their peers made. Perhaps it was the company, rather than the movie, that provided this light in his eye. Maybe it was the air, thick with tension from the car ride over, but before she second guessed herself,(Y/N) slipped her hand in his, walking towards the stairs looking around for Stu and Sid. When neither were in sight, she tugged him gently, proceeding up the stairs. 

Randy chuckled nervously on the way up, his nerves on edge from the beer he had earlier gave him a soft buzz and the fact a pretty girl—one of his best friends–was leading him wordlessly  to a room. His brain scrambled for logic, any reason, but all it could manage was static. God, those damn shorts. He could see just enough to drive him crazy, her ass peeking out slyly with every step.   His face flushed, blue jeans tightening in anticipation, and– Jesus– why was it suddenly so hot in here? 

(Y/N) knocked softly on a bedroom door, Stu’s door, making sure there was no one inside before slowly making her way in along with the boy in tow.

The last time she was in Stu’s room unattended was over a year ago, only due to Stu and Billy needing a ‘private’ conversation during movie night. The room hadn’t changed as much as she remembered, there was still a pile of dirty clothes in the corner. The male's bed was wooden and upholstered well and mighty comfortable from what she remembered laying down in it last. 

His desk was scattered with papers she didn’t bother to pay attention to at first glance, her first assumption to be homework the male forgot to do. But when was the last time she saw a large paper outline against his desk within the glance she saw. Was it a project for History class?

It's whatever. 

She felt safe in the room the many times she visited the Macher home—so in the comfort of the room, she wished to have the much needed conversation with Randy. 

Especially while her confidence still remained tonight with the killer at large. 

She can’t let her fears and what-ifs prevent her from living life and making the best and worst decisions she can make tonight. Her first house party, anticipated confessions with a boy—anything that she could set her heart on at the moment. 

The girl sat down at the foot of her friend's bed looking back up at Randy with the most friendliest smile she could muster before patting the bed next to her. 

“Wanna have a seat D?” She called sweetly.

Randy gulped slowly and nodded, cheeks aflame as he walked over taking in the girl’s appearance. Not only did her scent start to invade the room, but her silk press was slightly fuzzy from the humid air of the party, it still landed perfectly along her back but damn did it look soft. So did her skin, it didn’t help the angle he sat down next to her at the lamp in the background highlighted her almost like a halo. 

“What’s up?” He found his voice finally, “Why are we here?” 

(Y/N) looked down at her hands for a minute feeling her nerves start to get to her for a moment before looking back up at Randy. The boy's mouth parted slightly in surprise at her expression taking in the uncertainty and nerves eating away at her as she stared back at him. 

“(Y/N)—?”

“Promise me,” she whispered, “that even after I say this, and we leave this room, nothing negative will change between us…”

The boy frowned, taking in her words, “Negative?” He shifted closer, “why would anything negative happen?” Randy felt his guard began to rise, feeling as though another sense of rejection was on the horizon for him. He kept replaying over and over again on what he could’ve possibly done wrong by the girl. 

Was it something he said back at the Blockbuster? Did he make her uncomfortable on the car ride here?  

The brown skinned girl  shifted closer on the bed, drawing her lips in for a moment before letting out a deep breath that she seemed to be holding the last five minutes. Her findings were fidgeting–her mind sprailling–why didn't she read more about this? Surely there was a guide somewhere on how to confess your feelings to your friend without becoming too awkward to some capacity. 

But her Aunt always told her the truth naturally needs to be ripped off like a band aid. 

(Y/N) swallowed, her hands still twisting in her lap. “Because... I like you, Randy. Not just the way we sit together on the couch at your place discussing and theorizing the next drop of horror, but the cheesy way like Veronica Sawyer, ignoring all signs of warning. ”

Randy blinked. For a moment, he didn’t even breathe.

Okay….maybe using Heathers was not the best way to explain it.

“I... what?” he asked, voice cracking just slightly. He leaned back slightly as if trying to process it all at once. “You...like me?”

The girl gave him a half-laugh, half-groan and dropped her head. “God, this was stupid—”

“No! No,” Randy said quickly, scooting closer, practically falling off the edge of the bed in his eagerness. Flinching slightly at the way the girl tilted the other way in fear of rejection. “It’s not stupid. You—you’re incredible. You’ve got that kind of smile that screws with my brain and those legs that just–wait no that's not what I meant to–no it's just you're so smart and confident and beautiful. I just—I didn't think you thought of me that way.”

Her eyes flicked up, wide with surprise.

“I always thought,” he went on, nervous energy bubbling up, “you were out of my league. Like, horror final-girl material. And I’m just the comic relief guy who dies in the second act.”

(Y/N) let out a soft laugh, head lolled back with a wide relieved smile. Her stomach felt lighter and her confidence grew along with the warmth spreading throughout her body. “You’re ridiculous.”

Then, without giving herself another second to hesitate–to chicken out, she leaned forward and kissed him.

It was quick at first. An unsure press of lips–afterall it was her first. There were only so many instructions from watching horror movies that she could follow. Soft and fleeting, like an idea testing itself.

Randy’s eyes widened, his whole body frozen, heart pounding in his ears. Before he could even return the gesture, she pulled back sharply, cheeks burning.

“I’m sorry—I shouldn’t have—”

But Randy surged forward, hands finding her cheeks clumsily but earnestly as he kissed her this time. Warm. Shaky. A little too eager, a little off balance, but undeniably sincere.

They kissed again. Then again.

For a few long seconds, the world was just lips and breath and frantic heartbeats.

But then… something shifted.

The girl was many things growing up, she wouldn't ask for much, did as she was told, minded her business and allowed pleasantries to come to her willingly. Hence why she finally wanted to take something that she believed belonged to her for once. A relationship. 

But wasn't kissing your partner supposed to be….electrifying? 

The butterflies in her dream with the masked man weren't there for Randy. What happened to the rough velour of the large hand around her neck drawing her in, the soft praise? The supple touches driving her wild as he held her? 

There was no rush, to heat back into the kiss almost as if the kisses had no heart or soul into them–rather than feeling like she was soaring on cloud nine–she seemed to be on still and serene waters, pondering  for the person who could convey that feeling. 

She wanted to be drowned— warm with an infliction that left her sowing in breaths of air from a high. 

Two images came to her mind–faces that caused her breath to be stolen from a kiss Randy greedily swallowed, causing a chill to roll down her spine at the thought of them coming in instead. She could hear it, yelling the anger–the fist thrown. However, the reaction she expected to emerge within the recesses of her stomach to be panic morphed into a hot warmth spreading to her core. 

And that was when her reality to snap in two. 

(Y/N) was the first to pull back, her soft pants clear–but not as heavy as she would have liked. She blinked at him. “That… didn’t feel like how I thought it would.”

Randy panted slightly, brows furrowed. “… it didn’t?”

She shook her head, an awkward expression placed onto her face. The male only morphed his mouth into an ‘oh’ shape. 

They stared at each other in the heavy silence that followed. Then both broke into laughter at the same time. She leaned backwards on the bed, tension leaving the air as quickly as it came as the two friends relaxed their expressions. 

“Oh my god,” (Y/N) gasped, falling back onto the bed, giggling into her hands. “We really tried to have our horror movie party kiss?”

Randy flopped beside her, still breathless. “Total third-act fake out kiss.”

She turned her head toward him, cheeks flushed. “I think I like someone else.” The girl's eyes were anxious for a moment, taking in each crevice or twitch in the male's face for dismay in his expression. 

Thankfully there were none. 

Randy only stared at the ceiling, a twitch of a smile on his lips. “Yeah. Me too.”

Silence.

Then Randy smirked and tilted his head to her. “Wanna try again? Just… for the hell of it?”

(Y/N) raised a brow. “What, like a science experiment?”

“Exactly. Purely for science.”

She rolled her eyes, but she leaned over and kissed him again anyway.

And that’s when it started to shift—not emotionally, but physically. The kind of kissing that lingered. That wandered. Hands started to explore, softly, uncertainly, like new territory. They were both virgins, and it showed—in the hesitant way Randy’s hands hovered before landing on her waist and the way her breath hitched when his fingers brushed the exposed skin under her top.

Neither of them said a word for a while, too consumed in the slow build of sensation. The mood shifted again—not romantic, not quite right emotionally—but undeniably charged. Curious. A heat born not from love-most definitely not-but from proximity, trust, comfort and timing. 

Out of all the boys she gave her first kiss to-she had to admit she was thankful it was her best friend. 

(Y/N) pulled back again, lips swollen and breath unsteady.

“We’re idiots,” she whispered, voice raspy.

Randy grinned, dazed. “Totally. Wanna keep being idiots?”

She laughed, softly. “Yeah. For tonight… just until we remember we’re not each other’s final pick.”

And with that, their lips met again—clumsy and sweet, bodies tangled under Stu’s flickering lamp as the party downstairs slowly died out, and two friends up in a murderer’s bedroom discovered something real, even if it wasn’t what they’d expected.

~ ☿ ~

Sidney made her way through the crowd of teens leaving the property of the Macher home feeling out of sorts. She had left for a few minutes to use the bathroom and talk to Dewey again for the possible leads on her father. It felt so weird that no one could get into contact with him at all and that he would suddenly vanish out of thin air. 

Her father would never abandon her willingly, she was sure of it. He would have caught the next flight home immediately even if she was sick from the last time she was home alone since her mother died. He always seemed to worry about her more after Maureen's passing–knowing how close they were to one another. 

So why? Why couldn't he be found anywhere? 

Letting out a soft sigh, she searched the kitchen, living room, dining room, and the entertainment room for her friends, only to find none in sight. Tatum should have been back with the beer by now, and (Y/N) and Randy were nowhere to be found. A sinking feeling began to emerge from her stomach at the thought of something going on around them. 

However, the rational part of her wanted to tell herself that she was overreacting. The killer wouldn't dare be in a place with a mass crowd like this–there were too many witnesses and she wasn't alone. So in her logical sense, she was safe for now. 

Heading to the foyer, she found Stu saying goodbye to others leaving. A smile was on his face–but it didn't reach his eyes. Something told her he was possibly still bothered from earlier. She didn't approve of Tatum’s actions, but not his either–if the feelings aren't mutual between the two of them, like she was convinced they were, why didn't they break it off earlier? Now, half of the school knew about their ‘arrangement’ and the betrayal of Casey–god rest her soul. 

Sidney’s social battery was done-and she was ready to go home all she needed was to find Tatum to catch a ride with her and Dewey so they could leave. 

“Hey Stu,” Sidney walked up to the door, “Have you seen Tatum?” The male's smile dropped slightly at the mention of the girl, and Sidney awkwardly grimaced. “I'm not trying to start anything–say anything–I just…” 

Stu only nodded, giving her a second to get her words together. 

“I need to find her so we can leave…I'm kinda tired today.” 

The male hummed looking past her to the other room of the remaining teens still partying in his home. He looked around for a certain brown skinned teen with silked pressed hair only to find her nowhere in sight. 

Is her anxiety okay? Is she in the restroom?

“Hey I don't mean to pry,” Sidney started back, drawing Macher's attention back to her. “But I do think you should probably break it off with Tate and talk to (Y/N).” 

Stu’s eyes widened, “Wha-”

“I'm just saying!” Prescott muttered, “If you truly want (Y/N) you don't have to play games with Casey and Tatum to get her attention. You had it all along.” She crossed her arms with a pained smile on her face, “I know that sleepover wasn't the best way of doing things but it showed me the genuine connection she felt between you and Billy–if I had known before he pursued me, I would've steered him in the opposite direction.” 

The next question that came out of her mouth made him want to heave his insides out and all over the floor. 

“You both love her, don't you?” 

Stu thought of how he could've sat there and lied to Sid and told her it wasn't true, that he didn't love the girl and spent every waking moment of his life planning to marry her and keep her with him and Billy for the rest of their lives. 

Unfortunately Stu didn't get a chance to say anything before Billy jumped out from the shadows into the entryway of the home. Both teens jumped at the male’s appearance, he could only give them a grin in response to their fright. 

Sidney groaned in annoyance, “Really Billy? Jesus, you scared me!” 

In comparison to the girl's reaction Stu naturally laughed it off, “Dude!” He laughed again, “What are you doing here?” 

Billy turned his gaze to the girl in the doorway, a soft smirk playing on his lips, “I’m here to talk to Sid.”

Sidney cocked an eyebrow, “Me?”

“Yes,” Billy retorted, “You.”

The teen girl laughed looking back in the house before both of the boys in front of her, “I’m sorry, but we’re discussing nothing until you talk to (Y/N) first.” 

Something within Loomis physically and mentally shifted, the plan and mission slipping from his mind at the moment. 

“(Y/N)?” He muttered, “What about her?” 

Sidney cocked an eyebrow, “You don’t think you two should talk to one another about the past few days?” She made room for another two girls to leave before turning her attention back to him again, “especially after reading Casey’s diary today?”

Billy took a deep breath looking at Stu before tiring his gaze back to the girl in front of him-considering her words for a moment. There would be nothing more wonderful to him than to go talk to his final girl and to check in on her after today’s events, however, he knew there were only so many opportunities to execute the plan tonight. 

Stu could easily pull the girl to the side later to have the discussion before everything goes done tonight. Giving Billy enough time to smooth Sid finally beneath the covers to bring her into a false sense of security of he loved her, and her pointing the wrong finger in his direction. Although she was technically right, it didn't matter. 

None of her thoughts or feelings mattered anymore after tonight. She could blame her mother after all. 

“I am planning on talking to her,” Billy stated carefully, taking in the way the girl's eyebrows furrowed in frustration. “Its a conversation  that needs to happen between me, her and Stu privately." He then gestured to the house of rowdy teens–some of them leaving and the others still drinking their fears away in the kitchen and living young. “This isn't really the place for that. Come on, you and I both know that.” 

Sidney nodded carefully, a thoughtful look on her face, “And what makes you think I was to talk to you now?”

The Loomis boy's face would've been red with anger if he wasn't anticipating the moment where he'd gut the bitch’s stomach after giving her the most degrading sex of her life. 

“Because I actually care about our relationship, unlike someone who likes to point the finger without talking things out.” 

Prescott's face grew flushed, her mouth beginning to open until it was cut off by Stu. 

“I know there's a lot of tension in the air right now, buuut…,” Stu gestured up the stairs, a coy smile playing on his lips despite his twitching fingers, “You guys can go up to my parents’ room? To talk or…whatever.”

Billy rolled his eyes at the male’s innuendo, “Subtley, Stu. Look it up.” 

The girl finally took a deep breath and thought about it for a moment. Sure she'd wanted the boys to at least hold themselves accountable for her and (Y/n)’s misery the past two months but decided the only way she'd be able to let Billy have it was behind closed doors. 

No longer would she sit here and allow a boy to sit but leave her feeling confused on whether or not he wanted her or if he directed someone  else and kept her on the side as a second option. One thing that was different between her and Tatum was that she was capable of being straightforward and reasonable, only allowing her emotions to show when warranted. It was the key to keeping her head on straight so she wouldn't lose her mind. 

She'd have to give the advice to Tatum later. 

“Fine, you have forty minutes tops,” Sidney grabbed the Loomis boy's hands roughly leading him up the stairs. “Don’t make me regret this.”

The trek up the stairs seemed to way heavily on Sidney's heart each step she took towards the room. At one moment she let Billy take the lead having never ventured on the side of the Machers' home to the bedrooms. They seemed to almost reach the end of the hall until Billy stopped at a noise coming from another door. 

He cocked his head to the side, hearing a soft low moan emerge from the other side of Stu’s bedroom door. Billy scoffed a laugh-wondering who could be so bold enough to use Stu's room for sex?

“What's wrong?” Sidney asked, “Is someone in his parents' room already?” 

Billy shook his head. “Nah, this is Stu’s room. Someone was cocky enough to think they could slip in while he was busy.” 

The girl made a face in discomfort, “Rude.” 

Loomis couldn't help but agree, before reaching for the door handle. 

Sidney grabbed his arm in panic, clearly not one to interrupt the two in the room as the noises they made seemed to increase in volume. “M-maybe we should have Stu do it instead? This is his room and they wouldn't be so indisposed to us..” 

Billy cocked a brow clearly not one to be embarrassed by a bit of nudity from his experiences. To give her reassurance and to keep up the caring boyfriend act he offers his award winning smile. 

“Relax,” he placed his hand on the knob before giving it a turn, “A little spook and they'll leave. No problem." And with that Billy opened the door. 

Only what was on the other side made his stomach drop and turn. 

In front of him on Stu Macher’s bed was his precious (Y/n) (L/N) on top of Randy fucking Meeks lips locked togther and hair toseled in his grip. 

Now Billy would say he's many things in life, patience and composure didn't come easier for him even as a child. His father even said it’d be his downfall one day, never knowing when to pick his battles wisely. In this case the best solution probably was to close the door and carry out the mission as planned. But when (Y/n) came up for air and a whimper left those sweet plump lips with the drag of the other males lips down her throat?

Every last drop of patience left Billy Loomises body. 

“What the hell do you two think you're doing?!” 

Randy shot up first at Billy’s thunderous voice, just in time for him to grab (Y/n) off of him into a standing position behind him. The male took in the situation, seeing Billy’s red face furrowed brows all the way to his snarl. 

When was the last time he'd seen the male even make that color speak through his face and neck. If the Meeks boy could look close enough he was sure he saw smoke coming out of Billy's ears

His gaze shifted to the side, seeing Sidney shocked at the scene, his heart dropping in his stomach as a form of guilt and shame started to emerge. It shocked him not because he regretted his decision to make out with (Y/n) but because he was caught by the girl he truly had feelings for. And here she was in the doorway staring between him and (Y/n) as if they did the devils tango. 

Randy would like to say it wouldn't have gotten that far, however….his pants were a little constricted from her taking control a second ago. 

(Y/n) was the first to speak, “Sooo, this is awkward.” 

Billy stepped into the room, fur rolling off him in waves, "Seriously (N/n)? Randy fucking Meeks?!,” The brown skinned girl flinched at his tone, “And in Stu’s room no less?” 

“I really don't see a problem with me kissing Randy….it just sorta happened…plus we’re best friends and decided to even stay-” 

“You don't see the problem?” Billy hissed, “Me and Stu have been stressing this whole afternoon, how to apologie and you do a revenge plot like this?”

The male knew he was reaching, he could tell based on the girl's dilated eyes and wobbly balance that she was a bit drunk and halfway with them–this probably was the first tim the girl even had drunk as much as she did without being in the comfort of her own home when Gia was away. But the thought of her doing this to him and Stu out of spite wouldn't leave his mind, it made perfect sense for her to do so. After the many women the two of them ran through within the past two years it made sense for her to lay with another man when they weren't even acting right themselves. 

But God, did his fingers itch to truly show her who she truly belonged too. 

The girl cocked an eyebrow at the male's tone, “Revenge? Revenge for what again?” (Y/n) placed her finger on her chin in thought causing Randy to look at her in concern, taking in the way her balance was being supported by the foot of the bed, “I would never wanna act out of anger towards you and Stu Stu, you know that Billy.” 

The girl let out a yawn, her eyes getting heavy and a bit blurry, “I am a bit tired though, I wanna go home.” 

(Y/n) wondered how long she and Randy have truly been up in Stu’s room, no less than a few minutes she would assume. However her lips were so swollen as well as her body ablaze from denial of the cravings she needed she would assume it had been much longer. The cupcakes and alcohol in her stomach seemed to catch up to her-the room growing blurry each time she tried to focus on Billy’s pissed expression. One that out of instinct she wanted to sooth and to tell him to calm down–that it wasn't as bad as it looked when he walked in. But her head was reeling: her morals twisting from right and wrong. The air was thick, it was hard to breathe. 

Billy took in the girl's words and actions before glaring heatedly at Randy, trying to keep his composer, “Who kissed who first?”

Randy seemed to pause at the question, not seeming to trust him to answer. Knowing Billy his reactions and actions were very sporadic lately, to answer right away would no doubt have a double meaning or a fifty-fifty chance he would kick his ass with Sidney present. 

Speaking of the girl, she stepped forward placing a hesitant hand on the Loomis boy's shoulder who immediately brushed off and glared at her. If looks could kill Randy was sure the girl would be six feet under. 

“What does it matter?” Sidney asked softly, “(Y/n) was most likely exploring her feelings with Randy and even though it wasn't the best moment, it obviously wasn't out of spite. She's just not that kinda girl–”

“How do you know?” He growled, “You and Tatum yourselves turned on her and you're judging me for asking the same thing?”

“Yes,” The girl huffed, “I am, because she doesn't owe you or Stu anything! If she wants to kiss Randy then she has the right to--they're both single!” Sidney was frankly getting tired of the back and forth Billy was displaying. Shifting the blame onto (Y/n)’s shoulders instead of his own for not being a man and truly expressing what he wanted rather than playing mind games pissed her off concerning her friend. 

“She’s drunk.” Billy spoke even, taking in the way (Y/n) started to crawl on Stu’s bed flopping on her side. “I'm asking the question because I need to make sure he had her consent.” Through his anger and blind rage Billy knew that his fear was irrational, maybe he had lost sight of trust for those around him–but the scene in front of him didn't seem logical. 

All of them who were friends with the girl knew not to bring her up here while the spiked liquid was in her veins; it gave her false bravado and could make her act out of character. Billy couldn't help but think about her reaction once she sobered up: would she be in tears or pleased with herself? That's why he asked–not only his jealousy at work-but his resolve to make sure she wasn't indirectly taken advantage of. 

Randy’s ears started ringing at the end of Loomis’s statement, his blood curdling underneath at each word racked through his mind. The male could handle several things from his friends: being called a geek, the last one invited, or a punching bag when he's down–but that statement–that accusation he couldn't take. A rueful smile emerged on his lips in front of Billy and Sidney, and the two of them would lie if it wasn't a bit unsettling. 

“She kissed me first,” Randy spoke evenly, “In fact, she was the one who mainly took the lead telling me her feelings for me–something you will never have the pleasure of hearing after your fuck ups.” 

Sidney’s eyes widened at the boy's tone in shock. 

“Matter of fact,” he looked at Sidney, then back to the other male, taking in the tension between the two, "Weren't you two about to have sex?” The girl looked at Billy and started to shake her head, only for Randy to cut off with a laugh, "Don't bother denying it, Sid. We both know you'd rather sleep with this douchebag rather than me. At least I found someone who at least was honest with me regarding their feelings towards me and gave me a chance. A chance now that was ruined by the same guy who always seems to ruin things for both of us.” 

“Lemme guess,” He stepped towards Billy, “you don't believe she wanted to kiss me willingly, that you can't believe that your best friend whose always been by your side through thick and thin would move on with her life after you and community dick slept with half of the girls in the student body–” 

“That's a lie! We didn't sleep with that many girls–” 

“  Then how many then?” Randy hissed, “Matter of fact, she's right there,” he pointed to the brown skinned girl curled into a fetal position on the bed, “go on and tell her how many girls you slept with instead of her.” 

“Tell her how it didn't mean anything! How you love her, and it just happened and you weren't ready to give her a chance. Or or or……tell her how you'd never bring her home to your racist as hell father–” 

Randy didn't get to finish, a fist collided with his cheek knocking him on the floor, he made a move to get back up and land a hit himself until Sidney stepped in between the two.

“Stop! You two are not doing this here! You both look ridiculous!” Sidney hissed, keeping her volume to a medium, “(Y/n) is curled up on the bed barely with us and you're both fighting over unsettled feelings!” 

The boys looked at the girl as if she had two heads. It made more sense to tear each other to shreds now than to save it for later. 

“Both of you, out of the room!” The girl ordered. 

“Im not leaving-” Billy was shoved toward the door by the Prescott girl, shocking both males. 

“That wasn't a request, I'll meet you in Stu's parents room to talk but after I make sure (Y/n) is okay.” She then turned to Randy on the floor, speaking a bit softer, “You best go back downstairs to help the guests with the movies–give (Y/n) a bit to sober up then drive her back home okay?” 

Billy growled deeply “He’s not taking her home-” 

“And you are?” Sidney scoffed, "Don't make me laugh, Billy. Leave the room!” 

Loomis paused hearing a whimper from the bed, turning his gaze seeing the girl grab a pillow and laying it over her head–obviously trying her hardest to block out the noise. Something inside of him finally broke through his anger and resolve. The image was replaced with a sick girl on Halloween, nose scrunched up along with her body in the same position as she was now. 

Billy couldn't push down the strong urge to grab the girl and take her home himself, maybe in a simpler reality he'd sober her up in  her bed with water and a movie speaking to her sweetly as she muttered lines underneath her breath. He knew that his actions lately did not show his affections the way he wished to display them to the girl-his love and diaries dint prove his devotion nor will tonight show his afflictions to put her first in every way possible. 

Exactly what would happen after he kills Randy and Sidney tonight? She could, of course, get over Tatum, but a male she had feelings for, as well as the last of her friends who were female, ripped from her grasp as well? Could he really go through everything out of revenge to steal her happiness? 

He stepped back towards the door, a frown placed on his lips, “Make sure you incline her head on a pillow–it lessens her headache within ten minutes and helps with her nausea.” 

The order was clipped short, and precise, cutting through the tense air of the room. Giving Sidney and Randy one more glance, the male left the room and closed the door quickly, descending down the stairs to find Stu. 

[futuremrscameron]

we’re going places! not in a date but we’re going places

when you’re lost in the dark (prologue)

content warnings: suicidal ideation, depression, alcohol abuse, grief, mentions of death (not mc’s)

A simple reminder was all it took to set you off. Your phone flashing with the reminder of ‘Michael’s Anniversary’ was too much to handle. You spent the better half of the day crying in your bed and poking through your box of photos together. You missed him so much it hurt; you choked on a sob as you held the picture of him smiling at the camera to your chest. You went on a walk to get some liquor; you couldn’t keep dealing with this day while sober. That’s how you ended up here, at the beach, at night, at your absolute lowest; the starless night sky reflected your current situation, dark.

Drunk, numb, filled with guilt, and alone, you wandered onto a beach; the waves beckoned you closer. You had downed the little liquor left in your flask and thrown it behind you; you wouldn’t need it where you were going. You remembered stumbling to the shoreline, cold waves crashing against your feet. You looked up at the desolate sky, trying to will yourself to stop being a fucking coward and just do it. You remembered thinking it’d been super embarrassing to come all the way out here and backtrack last minute.

You took a step forward when something in the sky illuminated the darkness. A shooting star? It was brighter than the sun; you covered your eyes, but it did nothing to fight the brightness. There was something familiar about it. You realized it was probably not a shooting star when it grew bigger and closer. Your eyes widen in drunken realization that it could have been a meteor. “Fuck.” This was not how you planned to die, but at least it was happening, right?

You closed your eyes and braced for impact and assumed you were dead when you heard the crash. You opened your eyes expecting to see a bright light or complete darkness, but you were still there. You breathed, relieved and only slightly disappointed, before you turned and saw it: smoke coming from the crater left by the meteor. You knew you shouldn’t, but like a cat, curiosity got the best of you. Sobered by the possible near-death experience, you cautiously approached the site. The crater was deep, like an alien crash landing, the government pulling up to close off the reminiscent of Area 51.

Smoke from the impact slowly disappears, making the shining white light more visible. You peered down, your survival instincts screaming at you to stop being stupid. ‘Too late for that,’ you thought to yourself. The smoke cleared, and you could finally make out what the object was. It’s a staff. A shining silver rod with the design of the sun at the top. It surrounds a mysterious blue gem in the center. You felt compelled to reach out and grab it. Your brain was sending distress signals, and everything in your body was yelling, ‘STOP! DANGER!’ But the force was too strong; it pulls you in with the promise of comfort and acceptance.

Your fingers made contact with the staff for less than a second, and you’re transported into space. You tried to rationalize it, but this was undoubtedly space. Gone was the pitch-black sky; stars surrounded you everywhere you looked. You looked down and saw nothing but endless space and realized you’re standing on nothing. There’s no gravity, but you’re standing up straight on seemingly nothing. “What the fuck?” Your voice trembles with fear as you try to grasp your situation. The only rational explanation was that you died or were having a drunken nightmare; the staff was never real. No, that wasn’t true. You didn’t know how you knew that, just that you did. It’s like someone told you, but you didn’t hear anything. You looked down; you were still holding the staff. It was sending information to you.

You’re given no time to process any of this new information when you were pulled across space. You had been gone at the speed of light; you were passing stars so fast, all you could see were white specks littered throughout the darkness. The stars turned to images just as fast, but you could make some of them out. Make out that some of them were memories, at least some of them were; the others were too confusing to grasp. You were in some of them, but they weren’t memories, and you looked completely different. In one, you wield the staff in your hand as if it were as natural as breathing. Speaking to an unknown face in another. In the final image, you’re sitting on a bed in a mysterious cabin, a bright light shining on your face. It was the future.

It was showing you everything: past, present, and future. Your entire life, laid out before you: greatest wins, deep losses, and future potential. You’re unceremoniously thrust back into your natural environment, sand between your toes, cool wind blowing your braids in your face, and the waves continue to wail. The staff was still in your hand; you looked down at it, trying to communicate with it, but it gave you nothing. It’s refusing to answer you, the audacity of this inanimate object.

“So what? You just show me all that shit, then go silent on me? What? Am I supposed to be some hero? Huh!?” Your angry cry goes unanswered; you huff exasperatedly, spurred on by the silence. “You’ve got the wrong girl, okay? I-”. Memories of Michael came in a flurry: your late-night rendezvous at the abandoned Sonic Drive-Thru, eating pub subs at the beach, and going to the mall together. They clashed with the future you were shown; the possibility of making up for what you did was tempting, but you didn’t feel you deserved it. “I’m not… good.”

This thing was promising redemption, but that’s only because it didn’t know you, what you did. You weren’t the savior it was looking for; you were a mess. A killer. “Why me?” You asked softly and got no response again; tears filled your eyes as you held the staff to your head.

The feeling of warmness that could only come from a hand in yours jolts you out of your spiral. The staff glows, fuller than before, and that white light shines through the dark night. You don’t know how, but it was speaking to you, telling you you were worthy. You could almost see the future it showed you mere seconds ago. Redemption.

Maybe it was false hope, but you couldn’t pass up this moment. This was your chance at redemption, and you were not going to waste it.

———————————————————————

thank you for reading <3 i hope y’all liked it please share your thoughts (keep it classy though)

[futuremrscameron]

I love being friends with prostitutes and transsexuals and artists and drug dealers and perverts and queers

[futuremrscameron]

trailer park princess i knew it

[futuremrscameron]

sarah and y/n’s posts

body favors (smau)

to you

———————————————————————

taglist:

@amterasuu @starfxkrinc @sabrina-carpenter-stan-account @c-nstantine @k4yr14 @frankoceanluvver @envigrl

[futuremrscameron]

The Rafesarah boat scene is so icky and is a pure rape allegory like every time I close my eyes during that part it just sounds like as if Rafe is about to rape his baby sister. Before chasing her and pinning her down, he legit sounds like an obsessive ex boyfriend.

“I want to keep what’s mine and I’m the bad guy for trying to hold on it…like I’m wrong to protect what’s mine" was referring to the gold, but the way he was so upset about Sarah siding with the Pogues, he might as well be talking about Sarah.

He tried to kill Sarah because she chose her boyfriend over him like hello??? If that ain’t peak ex boyfriend behaviour. He literally lured her in too like some creep, making sure to catch her alone in an abandoned place in the middle of the night😭🙏🏽

Not to mention…”We’re your family and you’re against us”, “Who are you trying to protect here, huh?”, “You got shot because you’ve been following John B”, acting like as if he owns her and has every right to punish her for leaving him.

When Sarah said “John B might get the death penalty because of you”, he tears up and screams at her “THAT! That right there! That’s exactly what I’m talking about, Sarah…you know…you’ve always been against me.” When Sarah tries to convince him she wasn’t, he says: “Don’t shake your head. You still are.”

This scene was more like an ex boyfriend hunting down his ex for leaving him than a brother being mad at his sister idk

Yess!! It was more like a jealous ex boyfriend. Not to get on an uncomfortable topic, but Rafe is totally a victim blamer (in general, but we're taking about Sarah here so it applies). Everything is Sarah's fault. She gets hurt because she left the family, and if she would've just stayed, Rafe wouldn't have to be harsh like he is. He wouldn't have had to do that (drowning scene-rape allegory).

There is no winning, because Rafe sees her like his little sister. A part of his family, so he has rights over her. Being with John B is a betrayal against Rafe for more reasons than one.

That scene, and Rafe's weird behavior in general, has no right to be as toxic ex boyfriend coded as it is.

[futuremrscameron]

[futuremrscameron]

body favors | masterlist <3

✩ pairing: rafe cameron x singer!reader

✩ summary: up and coming pop star and producer y/n goes viral after being spotted with infamous hothead rich boy rafe cameron and dropping her debut single that may or may not be about him (it is).

✩ ongoing

✩ characters’ profiles

✩ the prologue

✩ chapter 1

✩ chapter 2

✩ chapter 3

✩ chapter 4

✩ chapter 5

✩ chapter 6

✩ chapter 7

✩ chapter 8

✩ chapter 9

✩ chapter 10

✩ chapter 11

✩ chapter 12

✩ chapter 13

✩ chapter 14

✩ chapter 15

✩ chapter 16

✩ chapter 17

✩ chapter 18

✩ chapter 19

✩ chapter 20

✩ chapter 21

✩ chapter 22

✩ chapter 23

✩ chapter 24

✩ chapter 25

✩ chapter 26

✩ chapter 27

✩ chapter 28

✩ chapter 29

✩ chapter 30

✩ chapter 31

✩ chapter 32

✩ chapter 33

✩ chapter 34

✩ chapter 35

✩ chapter 36

✩ chapter 37

✩ chapter 38

✩ chapter 39

✩ chapter 40

✩ chapter 41

✩ chapter 42

✩ chapter 43

✩ chapter 44

✩ chapter 45

✩ chapter 46

✩ chapter 47

✩ chapter 48

✩ chapter 49

✩ chapter 50

✩ chapter 51

✩ chapter 52

✩ chapter 53

✩ chapter 54

✩ chapter 55

✩ chapter 56

✩ chapter 57

✩ chapter 58

✩ chapter 59

✩ chapter 60

✩ chapter 61

✩ chapter 62

✩ chapter 63

✩ chapter 64

✩ chapter 65

✩ chapter 66

✩ chapter 67

✩ chapter 68

✩ chapter 69

✩ chapter 70

[futuremrscameron]

new body favors chapter finally out who else cheered

[futuremrscameron]

body favors (smau)

to you

———————————————————————

taglist:

@amterasuu @starfxkrinc @sabrina-carpenter-stan-account @c-nstantine @k4yr14 @frankoceanluvver @envigrl

[futuremrscameron]

Wait anon so real for saying it got repetitive. Like the treasure hunting was arguably the least interesting thing in that damn show (except for the whole cross storyline and how it tied in with pope because it actually felt THOUGHT OUT) but yea they really pmtfo

the fooled me by thinking we would get more of the gentrification civil unrest plot line

[futuremrscameron]

trying to squeeze as much shit into this chapter as i can

[futuremrscameron]

i really need to work on this series

when you’re lost in the dark (prologue)

content warnings: suicidal ideation, depression, alcohol abuse, grief, mentions of death (not mc’s)

A simple reminder was all it took to set you off. Your phone flashing with the reminder of ‘Michael’s Anniversary’ was too much to handle. You spent the better half of the day crying in your bed and poking through your box of photos together. You missed him so much it hurt; you choked on a sob as you held the picture of him smiling at the camera to your chest. You went on a walk to get some liquor; you couldn’t keep dealing with this day while sober. That’s how you ended up here, at the beach, at night, at your absolute lowest; the starless night sky reflected your current situation, dark.

Drunk, numb, filled with guilt, and alone, you wandered onto a beach; the waves beckoned you closer. You had downed the little liquor left in your flask and thrown it behind you; you wouldn’t need it where you were going. You remembered stumbling to the shoreline, cold waves crashing against your feet. You looked up at the desolate sky, trying to will yourself to stop being a fucking coward and just do it. You remembered thinking it’d been super embarrassing to come all the way out here and backtrack last minute.

You took a step forward when something in the sky illuminated the darkness. A shooting star? It was brighter than the sun; you covered your eyes, but it did nothing to fight the brightness. There was something familiar about it. You realized it was probably not a shooting star when it grew bigger and closer. Your eyes widen in drunken realization that it could have been a meteor. “Fuck.” This was not how you planned to die, but at least it was happening, right?

You closed your eyes and braced for impact and assumed you were dead when you heard the crash. You opened your eyes expecting to see a bright light or complete darkness, but you were still there. You breathed, relieved and only slightly disappointed, before you turned and saw it: smoke coming from the crater left by the meteor. You knew you shouldn’t, but like a cat, curiosity got the best of you. Sobered by the possible near-death experience, you cautiously approached the site. The crater was deep, like an alien crash landing, the government pulling up to close off the reminiscent of Area 51.

Smoke from the impact slowly disappears, making the shining white light more visible. You peered down, your survival instincts screaming at you to stop being stupid. ‘Too late for that,’ you thought to yourself. The smoke cleared, and you could finally make out what the object was. It’s a staff. A shining silver rod with the design of the sun at the top. It surrounds a mysterious blue gem in the center. You felt compelled to reach out and grab it. Your brain was sending distress signals, and everything in your body was yelling, ‘STOP! DANGER!’ But the force was too strong; it pulls you in with the promise of comfort and acceptance.

Your fingers made contact with the staff for less than a second, and you’re transported into space. You tried to rationalize it, but this was undoubtedly space. Gone was the pitch-black sky; stars surrounded you everywhere you looked. You looked down and saw nothing but endless space and realized you’re standing on nothing. There’s no gravity, but you’re standing up straight on seemingly nothing. “What the fuck?” Your voice trembles with fear as you try to grasp your situation. The only rational explanation was that you died or were having a drunken nightmare; the staff was never real. No, that wasn’t true. You didn’t know how you knew that, just that you did. It’s like someone told you, but you didn’t hear anything. You looked down; you were still holding the staff. It was sending information to you.

You’re given no time to process any of this new information when you were pulled across space. You had been gone at the speed of light; you were passing stars so fast, all you could see were white specks littered throughout the darkness. The stars turned to images just as fast, but you could make some of them out. Make out that some of them were memories, at least some of them were; the others were too confusing to grasp. You were in some of them, but they weren’t memories, and you looked completely different. In one, you wield the staff in your hand as if it were as natural as breathing. Speaking to an unknown face in another. In the final image, you’re sitting on a bed in a mysterious cabin, a bright light shining on your face. It was the future.

It was showing you everything: past, present, and future. Your entire life, laid out before you: greatest wins, deep losses, and future potential. You’re unceremoniously thrust back into your natural environment, sand between your toes, cool wind blowing your braids in your face, and the waves continue to wail. The staff was still in your hand; you looked down at it, trying to communicate with it, but it gave you nothing. It’s refusing to answer you, the audacity of this inanimate object.

“So what? You just show me all that shit, then go silent on me? What? Am I supposed to be some hero? Huh!?” Your angry cry goes unanswered; you huff exasperatedly, spurred on by the silence. “You’ve got the wrong girl, okay? I-”. Memories of Michael came in a flurry: your late-night rendezvous at the abandoned Sonic Drive-Thru, eating pub subs at the beach, and going to the mall together. They clashed with the future you were shown; the possibility of making up for what you did was tempting, but you didn’t feel you deserved it. “I’m not… good.”

This thing was promising redemption, but that’s only because it didn’t know you, what you did. You weren’t the savior it was looking for; you were a mess. A killer. “Why me?” You asked softly and got no response again; tears filled your eyes as you held the staff to your head.

The feeling of warmness that could only come from a hand in yours jolts you out of your spiral. The staff glows, fuller than before, and that white light shines through the dark night. You don’t know how, but it was speaking to you, telling you you were worthy. You could almost see the future it showed you mere seconds ago. Redemption.

Maybe it was false hope, but you couldn’t pass up this moment. This was your chance at redemption, and you were not going to waste it.

———————————————————————

thank you for reading <3 i hope y’all liked it please share your thoughts (keep it classy though)

[futuremrscameron]

sophia and beatrice coming together to maximize their joint slay (psychosexually torturing jj)

[futuremrscameron]

sam’s first instinct when red hulk appears is to lead ross to the park with cherry blossoms. and sam listens to people so ofc he knows (hopes) that ross would come back to his senses seeing the pretty pink flowers in bloom like it just makes me scream how good sam wilson is (and this was also depicted heavily in tfatws with karli) like! bro. that’s a real hero

[futuremrscameron]

trying to get this new update out but the collage is not shaping up