Detective || Scream1996 x M!reader

A late night call

"Hello," a gravelly male voice greeted on the other end, the kind that was rough around the edges but not without a hint of something else-almost amused, maybe even playful.

You raised an eyebrow, momentarily thrown off. It wasn't like you were expecting a call, let alone one from someone who sounded like they'd just crawled out of a bad thriller.

"Do i know you? you lost?" you replied casually, leaning against the counter while the microwave continued its steady hum in the background.

There was a chuckle on the other end, low and unsettling, as if the guy found your lack of panic amusing. "Yes, you do know me and No, im not lost" he said, his tone shifting slightly, almost like he was savoring every word. "In fact, I'm right where I need to be. Just checking in on you, Y/n. Thought I'd see how your night's going. You know, see if you're all comfy and cozy at home...alone."

You didn't flinch, even though the fact he knew your name sent a chill creeping up your spine. Instead, you kept your voice steady trying to stay calm. "Is this the part where you tell me you're watching me through the window or something?" you asked, half-joking but also scanning the room out of the corner of your eye.

"Maybe," the voice drawled, clearly enjoying himself. "Or maybe I'm thinking about something a little more...intimate. Like, I don't know...bursting through your door and seeing how long you'd last. What do you think, Y/n? Think you'd put up a good fight? Or would you crumble the second I stepped inside?" There was something twisted in the way he spoke, like he was walking a fine line between flirting and issuing a very real threat.

You rolled your eyes, more annoyed than anything. "So, let me guess. You're the strong, silent type who's gonna break in here and give me some dramatic speech about fate, right? Real original."

"Cute," the voice responded, a smirk practically audible through the phone. "But no, I don't do speeches. I'm more about action. And you? Well, you seem like someone who'd be fun to play with...before I really get down to business."

Now it was starting to click. You recognized the type-guys like him fed off the fear, the panic. But you weren't about to give him that satisfaction. "Look, if you're trying to scare me, you're wasting your breath. I'm not exactly in the mood to play your creepy phone game, and I've got popcorn to attend to."

There was a brief silence on the line before the man laughed again, the sound darker this time. "Oh, Y/n, I think you've misunderstood me. See, this isn't just some creepy game. This is real. And whether you like it or not, we're gonna get to know each other real well soon. You can keep pretending you're not scared... but I know better. I can hear it."

You clenched your jaw, refusing to let him rattle you. "Right. Well, I'll tell you what-I've got a microwave full of popcorn that's about to be done, so if you want to burst in here and give me your best shot, go ahead. Just make sure you don't trip over anything on your way in. I'd hate for you to look clumsy while you're trying to be intimidating."

Another pause. This one lingered, heavier, like he was sizing you up through the phone, deciding what to say next.

"You've got guts. I like that," he finally said, his tone a little less mocking, a little more serious now. "But let's not pretend you don't feel it-the way your heart's picking up, the way your mind's already racing, wondering if I'm standing right outside your door. You're not *that* calm, Y/n. And I'll enjoy every second of proving that to you."

The microwave beeped, cutting through the tension as if mocking the drama unfolding over the phone. You glanced at it, then back at the receiver. "Well, looks like my popcorn's done," you said dryly. "If you're planning to kill me, at least let me enjoy a snack first."