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littlespacereader · 21 days ago

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I apologize for the wait! But the Halloween special is here! I wanted to surprise you guys and not tell you what fandom this fic was, leaving it a mystery…But now it’s here!! It’s a part of my kiddo series!! I watched a ton of Scooby-Doo to properly get a feel for how the story plays out. So I reworked it a bunch of times. But it’s here!! Please enjoy this Scooby Doo Halloween story with you and the Scooby Doo gang!

Joining the Mystery💚🧡👻

Happy late Halloween everyone!!🎃

Caregivers! Fred, Daphne, Velma, and Shaggy & GN Little! Reader (SFW!)

Tags- Scooby Doo typical scares, stolen stuffed animal, thumb sucking, cuddles, hugs, hand holding

It was getting kind of late, the sun was starting to set and the park was starting to die down.

I sat on the swings, lightly swinging back and forth with my stuffie in my lap. I didn’t want the day to end! It was already such a nice day at the park.

But it was going to start getting dark soon and I didn’t want to walk home alone in the dark. So reluctantly I got off the swings.

I grab my backpack and throw it over my shoulders before heading towards the park exit. Except…there’s a rough group of people over by the exit. I pause for a moment, trying to figure out my next move.

I walked towards the exit thinking maybe I could keep my head down and just walk my way through without making eye contact or talking to anyone. But the moment I started to get closer they all started cracking jokes and teasing me.

“Awwww! It’s the overgrown baby! Going home to Mommy and Daddy?” One said.

“You’re out late! Isn’t it past your bed time?” Another said.

Tears brimmed my eyes as they kept going on. Rather than continuing to deal with their rude comments I decided the best thing to do was to find another way out of the park.

I could hear them cracking jokes and calling out to me as I made my way towards the garden at the back of the park.

“Watch out baby! That garden is haunted!! The ghost of the garden will come and take you!”

Haunted? That’s so stupid. And ghost of the garden and even stupider name…wait is stupider a word?

I unlock the fence and start walking into the garden. I remember when I was younger this garden was beautiful. Filled with flowers and butterflies. But now it was laid without flowers or butterflies or really anything.

Weeds and other plants wrap around the metal covers that are now rusted. The wooden benches now broken or splintered. The brick path cracked under my feet.

I made my way through, holding my stuffie close to me as I tried to reach the other end of the garden when suddenly…

“HAHAHAHAHA!!!!” A creepy laughter breaks the silence of the evening. There, in the path in front of me appears….a ghost?!

“WHO IS IN MY GARDEN?!” He calls out with a haunting voice.

I scream, running as fast as I can back to the park and to the safety of the playground. I run and run and run as the ghost chases me. I can feel him right behind me.

I open the fence and trip, falling hard onto the mulch below.

“Like hey! Are you okay?”

Tears brim my eyes making it hard to see who said that. But soon a guy in a green shirt and his dog walk over to check on me.

“You had a nasty fall there.” He helps me to sit on the mulch, “Are you hurt?”

“I…don’t know…” my voice sounds wobbly as tears stream down my face.

The dog comes over and licks my face, causing me to smile. I giggle as he keeps going on. “That’s it Scoob! I think they’re feeling better now.”

“Just sit down and take a deep breath.” Another woman says as she runs over to us. She’s wearing an orange sweater, a red skirt and thick glasses. “Why were you running so fast?”

“S-Someone was chasing me.” I explain, “It was a ghost.”

“A G-G-GHOST?!” The green shirt guy and the dog said at the same time….wait the dog just talked?!

“You mean the ghost of the garden?” Another guy runs over, a part of the friend group. He’s wearing an ascot and a white shirt with blue pants.

Next to him, another girl with a purple dress. She ran over to me and kneels down. “You’re okay. Just scared you huh?” She pulls down a tissue from her handbag and wipes the remaining tears away. “There we are.”

She makes me feel better. I go to hold my stuffed animal close but…

“MY STUFFIE!” I stand and run over to the fence’s gate. “The ghost! He-He must’ve taken it, I must’ve dropped it…I…I…”

I start to get upset. “He took my stuffie….”

“Hey, hey, hey, it’s okay. I’m so sorry. Come here.” The guy in the white shirt pulls me into a hug, holding onto me tightly. “We’re going to get that stuffed animal back to you. I promise.”

“That’s strange,” the girl in the orange sweater starts to say, “First Tommy’s soccer ball and now their stuffed animal. This ghost is not haunting as much as it robbing.”

“And like why a garden? Usually they haunt mansion type places.” The green shirt guy brought up.

“There’s always been this legend that these grounds use to belong to a rich bachelor. He had this big mansion. And he was greedy, never letting anyone inside. After he died they turned it into a park for the public. And they say he haunts it because he’s angry everyone is on his property.” I explain to the group.

“That must be the ghost!” The green shirt guy says worried.

“There’s no such thing as ghosts. But there is someone who wants that garden all to themselves.” The orange shirt girl points out.

“Gang, looks like we have a mystery on our hands!” The white shirt guy says with a smile, wrapping an arm around me.

“I was afraid he’d say that…” the green shirt guy says worried again.

“And since your stuffed animal is at stake, you’re a part of this too. What do you say? Would you like to help us and stop this ghost for good?” The purple dress girl asked.

They all look to me with hopeful expressions. I immediately not my head. “Let’s save my stuffie!”

“Weah!” The dog agreed, saying a yeah.

“We haven’t even introduced ourselves! I’m Daphne.” The purple dress girl starts out saying.

“I’m Velma.” The orange sweater girl says after.

“I’m Fred.” The ascot guy introduces himself.

“I’m Shaggy.” The green shirt guy says, “And this is-.”

“Scooby Dooby Dooo!!” The dog happily says.

“Or Scooby Doo for short.” Fred jokes. “What’s your name?”

“I’m Y/N.” I introduce myself.

“It’s nice to meet you Y/N. Welcome to the Mystery Gang!” I smile, feeling so accepted with them already.

“Like, I don’t mean to interrupt this moment but I’m getting kinda hungry! Why don’t we go to the diner on 10th street?” Shaggy suggests.

“That’s a great idea Shaggy! We can talk about the mystery and share all the details with Y/N so we’re all on the same page.” Velma smiles.

“Come on gang, let’s go to the mystery machine.” Fred leads the way as we start to walk out of the park and to the parking lot. There sits a van, but not the white creepy van type of van.

No, this van is groovy! There’s flowers on the side, with unique colors like turquoise and orange! It looks so cool. “Y/N, you sit in the back with Shaggy and Scoob. Shaggy, make sure they’re buckled up and safe.” Fred instructs.

“Of course man. Like safety first!” Shaggy opens the side door of the van for me. I sit between him and Scooby Doo, and like instructed, he leans over and helps me with my buckle.

Then it was off to the diner!

~~~

We get one big booth that fits all of us. I sit between Shaggy and Daphne.

My eyes almost pop out of my head as I watch Shaggy and Scooby try to eat this skyscraper tall sandwiches.

“I didn’t know they made sandwiches that big!” I giggle.

“They make them special for us!” Shaggy smiles before he absolutely devours his sandwich.

“Weah! Big wandwich!” Scooby adds before eating his.

I giggle some more watching them go at it.

Daphne taps my shoulder, “You want anything to eat? It’s almost dinner time.”

“I’m okay…” I say a bit shy.

“Y/N, order whatever you want! It’s on us.” Fred smiles.

“No…I couldn’t-.”

“Please, it’s our treat.” He smiles back.

I debate on refusing more but they’re being so kind to me and it would be rude to refuse. “Could I have a milkshake? Strawberry please?”

Fred gives a gentle nod back, “Of course you can.” He pulls the waiter over and puts the order in for me.

“Great choice Y/N! I looooooovvvvvvveeeee milkshakes myself!” Shaggy drapes his arm around me.

“Reah! Rreat rhoice!” Scooby add, saying great choice.

“Now let’s get to what we know about this Ghost.” Velma starts saying. “We know he’s based on a legend, he alway appears at night or close to it. And it seems like each person who sees him, drops something and he keeps it.”

“Maybe it’s something with the garden itself. It’s been overkept for years.” I suggest.

“That’s a good point Y/N.” Fred praises.

“We talked with the mayor and he says it’s owned by the county, but since they don’t have the resources or fund to take care of it, it will soon closed permanently to the public.” Daphne explain.

“Well…” I start to say but look shy.

“What is it Y/N? Don’t be shy. We’re open to suggestions.” Fred smiles warmly.

“If it’s going to be closed…then we should see who would want the garden closed the most. Maybe someone chasing away anyone who wants to help?”

“Like great point Y/N!” Shaggy pats my back.

The waiter comes and drops off my milkshake. I thank him before taking a sip. “This is amazing!”

“See? I told you it was a great choice!” Shaggy smiles.

“We should split up tomorrow. Shaggy, Scooby and Y/N. You go back to the park. See if maybe you can scope out any possible suspects walking around or talking about the garden. Velma you check the public records, Daphne and I will talk to the Mayor again, see if he knows any more.” Fred plans outs

I nod my head, turning back to my milkshake to find it’s all gone. I look shocked but only to see the grin on Scooby-Doo’s face. I giggle and shake my head. “Scooby!” I playfully scold.

As they go about planning tomorrow, my eyes start to get heavy. I start to lean against Daphne, half listening to their conversation. My thumb finds its way to my mouth as I drift off in the diner.

I feel myself being carried and lifted from the booth. I wrap my arms around Fred as he carries me to van. I hear their hushed voices as he pulls the sliding door open and carefully puts me in the van.

I’m sat right next to Scooby and Shaggy. I rest against Shaggy’s side and feel Scoob rest his head in my lap before drifting off once again.

~~~

True to our plan, we spit up into two teams the next day. Shaggy, Scooby Doo and I go back to the park while Daphne, Velma and Fred go back to talk to city hall.

As we approach the park I can see the usual rough group of people standing by the entrance to the park. I immediately look worried.

Shaggy takes my hand, seeing the panicked look on my face. “Like what’s the matter?”

“That group of people over there. They’re the reason I tried to walk through the garden yesterday…they always make fun of me and say rude things…sometimes they push or try to grab my stuff.” I look down.

“You don’t need to worry about them today. Scoob and I will protect you.” He reassures with a small squeeze to my hand.

“Weah!” Scooby echos.

As we approach the park I can hear their snickering and their teases. I brace myself for it until…

Scooby runs in front of us and starts growling and barking at them. “RUN!” One of them yells before they all disburse.

I smile, letting go of Shaggy’s hand to hug Scooby. “My hero!”

Scooby giggles before licking my face again.

“I’ve seen that guy before.” Shaggy points to one of the guys who ran away. “I saw his photo on the Mayor’s desk.”

“He must be the Mayor’s son.” I suggest. “But what’s he doing here?”

“Wey! Who’s wat?” Scooby points out asking who’s that?

Shaggy and I pick up our heads to see a woman walking in the garden. She kneels down by a planter box, planting fresh flowers.

“Huh? I didn’t know they had a gardener.” I say confused. I mean if she’s the gardener she’s not doing a very good job of it. This place is overgrown and unkept.

“Let’s go talk to her. Maybe she knows what’s going on.” I squeezes Shaggy’s hand.

“B-B-But the ghost…” He says shaking.

“He only comes out in the evening or the night and it’s still the morning! Come on!”

We brace ourselves and enter the garden. There we meet the woman planting the flowers. Upon talking to her we learn a lot.

She knows about the ghost and has been chased away herself! She plants new flowers here each week and finds them ripped away each time. She’s on a committee to help bring the garden back. But it’s been ignored by the Mayor and city hall.

We talk to her for a while before rejoining with the rest of the Mystery Gang and share the details.

“Huh?” Velma says, adjusting her glasses. “I think I know who’s behind this mystery. But there’s only one way to find out…”

“We have to set a trap!” Fred says excited. “And I know just how we’re going to do it!”

~~~

Honestly, this is the craziest trap I’ve ever seen. Fred has been kind and patient enough to explain it not once but about 4 times to me. And each time I still can’t quite grasp it.

But simply put, from what I understand, Shaggy and Scooby are the bait. They get the ghost to chase them then this crazy trap gets sprung and then BAM! The ghost gets caught in a net.

We all wait in the garden, close by one another, waiting for Shaggy and Scooby to come running by. I hide being a large planter with Velma at my side.

I carefully peek my head out to see what’s going on when I hear Shaggy and Scooby start yelling and running.

They run down the broken brick path of the garden and right….into the trap….themselves…

Velma, Fred, Daphne and myself stand up and look shocked at the events. But we don’t have much time to stay shocked as the ghost starts chasing us!!

*Cue Scooby Doo running sequence.*

We run up the garden, down the garden, left, right, we even run so much the ghost ends up in front of us?! Then we run the other way!

I run ahead, grabbing the rope from the net and pulling it tightly. When the ghost comes by it trips on the rope and falls to the ground. Scooby runs up behind me, grabbing the net and throwing it on the ghost. We caught the ghost!

The police arrive and hold the ghost in handcuffs. “Now it’s time to see who’s really behind this haunting!” Velma announces before she takes the mask off.

And it’s…….THE MAYOR!

“The Mayor?!” We all say in unison.

“That’s right, Mayor Robertson. I became suspicious of the mayor when he said that the county didn’t have the resources to handle cleaning the park. So I did some digging on the Mayor and found out if this garden was to close, he would get a bonus in his paycheck.” Velma starts to explain.

“That’s why he dressed as a ghost, to scare anyone trying to fix the garden.” I start connecting the pieces.

“Precisely Y/N! When he heard about a committee that looked to fit the garden, he started to dress as the ghost to scare away anyone trying to fix it.” Velma goes on to say.

“He used his son as a way of getting the ghost name around town, refusing anyone to leave the park through the exit and instead by through the garden so they’d run into him. Once they’d start to go there, he’d use this,” Fred pulls a walkie talkie off the Mayor, “Walkie talkie to set up the scare.”

“B-But what about all the things he took? My stuffie?” I ask anxiously.

“That would be here.” Daphne walks over to one of the planters, she reaches behind it and grabs a box. “I saw this while we were waiting for Shaggy and Scooby to spring the trap.”

She brushes off the dirt on top before opening the cover to reveal a box full of different objects. But sitting on top sat my beloved stuffie!

I gasp, grabbing the stuffed animal and holding it close. The Mystery Gang smile, all gathering around me.

“Taking stuffed animals? Scaring kids and teens? All just to get a bonus check huh?” The police man nudges the Mayor.

“And I would’ve gotten away with it too if it weren’t for those meddling kids!” The Mayor yells.

We all laugh but Scooby has the last say, “Scooby-Dooby-Doo!”

~~~

As the Mayor is brought to the police car we all stand by the Mystery Machine. “I’ve had so much fun with you guys! Thank you again for helping get my stuffie back.”

“Of course! We’ve loved having you around.” Daphne smiles.

“But speaking of that…we wanted to ask…” Fred starts to lead on, “We have an extra seat in our van and in our group. You’ve helped us so much with this mystery. We could use someone like you for the next one.”

I look in awe of the group, “Really? You don’t care that I-.”

“Regress? Like no dude! If anything we’d love to help take care of you, especially on this mystery. We’ve had fun taking care of you! And we’d like to continue to.” Shaggy right away says.

“What do you say Y/N? Would you like to join us and solve some mysteries?” Velma asks with a smile as well.

I can’t helps but smile and nod my head excitedly, “Yes!! Yes! A million times yes!”

We all share a group hug together before we gather back into the van. Velma, Daphne and Fred in the front, with Shaggy, me and Scooby Doo.

The new Mystery Gang.💚🧡

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alphashley14 · 3 months ago

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Mystery Skulls Fanart by me for Chapter 26 of my MSA/SDMI crossover fic, One of Us.

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fishhateme · 9 days ago

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okay fine let's address the elephant in the room i've abandoned this blog BUT i needed to cope after singapore yall after a good two months of no contact with any media of my pookie danny and the subsequent exposure to THE maxiel paddel date (ft. temporarily adopted paddel prodigy??) i'm ready to be back on my bullshit

this time? angsty introspective danny and max comforting him, aka ao3 hasn't been hitting and im in crisis

if it sucks it's because i haven't written fanfic in ages (started uni and it kicked me in the teeth, the only reason i can justify spending time on this is because at this point it's a Coping Mechanism™)

also i know the whole part things is a pain in the ass but tumblr wont let me write posts as long as i want them to idk i hate technology i was born in the wrong century (id rather die of the black death at 20 than have to deal with hyperlinks again thanks for asking)

read it here

#daniel ricciardo #danny ric #dr3 #like seriously this fic is 90% danny you've been warned #max verstappen #maxiel #not beta read we die like redbull's integrity whenever millions of dollars are dangled in front of them by a shitty sponsor #rpf #f1 fic #hurt/comfort #crack (ish)#domestic fluff #does this count as character study?? inner monologue?? danny ric is my pookie hours??#writing shitty fanfiction as a coping mechanism #duolingo notifications being used as a plot point #minor scooby doo reference #confusing punctuation and grammatic mistakes we'll be labelling as artistic choices #i wrote this while listening to the grand budapest hotel's soundtrack and i think you can tell based off of... the general vibes??#it's not okay #it will be #oh also christian horner being a greedy bitch that's sort of the main point of conflict? i guess?

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the-lisechen · 3 months ago

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~6.7k. gen. copia/f!oc. the cardinal has a cigarette with a fan. from there, it gets a little weird. (or: copia gets into a fist fight at 3am in a denny's parking lot over theology. metaphorically speaking.)

header by the divine @enjoy-my-swearing

(the fic that started it all and has eaten my brain ever since. don't mind me, i just wanted to reformat this one and also have it on my tumblr for posterity)

some kind of cosmic rearrangement - ao3

(full series here)

religious discussion, catholic character that isn't an asshole, unresolved sexual tension. tw: catholicism

Copia stepped out into the night, face paint mostly cleaned off, save for the black around his eyes. He couldn't even remember the name of the town they were in. Somewhere in the American South, the air warm and heavy with humidity that felt like silk against his skin. He settled his shoulders against the brick of the alleyway, and sighed, his blood still fizzing from the ritual. The comedown from the adrenaline dump always left him a little hollowed out and shaky.

As he passed a hand over his face, the car in front of him trilled out like a bird and flashed its lights. He turned to the sound of boots up the wet pavement. A small figure, female, dishwater blonde hair, head down, hands stuffed into black skinny jeans. Humming something he could recognize as one of his songs, and that never got old.

He watched her approach, curious. When she at last stepped into the light, she looked up at him, and startled like a deer. Her hands flew up to her mouth, and she squeaked out a breathless “Oh shit!” It took her a moment to recover, and my, wasn't that an interesting shade of pink. He’d seen people blush, of course, but this was remarkable, that red, that quickly.

He had to smile, even bowing a little. “Bunoasera, signora."

"Um! Hi! You are very good at your job!"

Her purse plopped next to her feet, and she knelt down to recollect it, the blush deepening to the color of late spring roses. "Sorry, I'm sorry--" she said, hands shaking as she scooped spilled detritus back into her purse, pens and lip balm spilling from her fingers.

He bent over to help her, smiling. "It is no trouble, signora. Not the worst I've seen." He paused, sitting back on his heels, and picked up a battered paperback the color of burnt orange. "'The Liberation of Theology.'" He looked up at her, mismatched eyes sharp, assessing. "This is what you read? At my show?"

The girl-- woman, really-- went still. She got to her feet and took half a step back, widening her stance, her shoulders squared. "Yeah." She tilted her chin up. "Is it really that strange?"

He flipped it to read the back cover, and her spine relaxed a fraction, with his focus off of her. "Perhaps... somewhat unexpected." An understatement. He stood, slow, putting himself further into her personal space, eyes still on the text in his hand. He read the subtitle. "'An instrument in human liberation.' Has it been?" He looked down at her, not exactly trying to loom, but not exactly going out of his way not to. "In your experience."

The woman folded her arms, leaning back against her car. Keeping her distance. "It can be. It should be." She flipped her keyring, once. "And in my experience? Yes, actually. But I am fully aware my experience may be-- atypical."

"In what way?"

"Well." She looked up, exposing the long pale line of her throat, and her Southern accent became gradually more apparent as she spoke. "I converted to Catholicism. Not really from anything, you understand, unless you count the vaguely agnostic Protestant background noise in America. And I did my catechism classes with a Capuchin Franciscan. A lot of mysticism. And a lot of social action to offset the navel-gazing that comes with that. The culture was-- it's different. I mean, how much do you know about liberation theology?"

"For the purposes of this conversation?" He idly tapped her book against his thigh. "Let us say... not much."

"In simple terms: feed the hungry, clothe the naked. Like the guy said in the book, right? It's both defending the poor and taking aim at the structural issues that are actively oppressing people. Real basic."

"You need a God to tell you this?"

He saw her warming to the subject, eyes alight and not quite on his. "Of course not, but it's a useful framework. And some people do! Whatever provides incentive. Besides that, it works on a practical level, if the Church is your primary social apparatus, that's a structure in place to distribute resources if the state is failing. I mean, the Jesuit approach in South America is not quite the same as the Black church in the Civil Rights movement in the USA in the Sixties, but it's not too far off, either. It's like--" and she cut herself off, the blush coming back, eyes cast downward. "It's just what's supposed to happen. What it says on the tin."

He ruffled the pages with a gloved hand a few times, watching her. "Incentive." He gestured at her with the book, halfway to accusatory. "If someone is doing something in expectation of divine reward, then they are, I'm afraid, an asshole."

"Man, I truly do not care about the motive. I care about the effect it has on the world. But faith without works is dead."

"You believe this."

"Yeah."

"You are this passionate about it, and yet you came to see me. My songs are nothing but blasphemy. Why?"

"Look, as blasphemy goes-- and I'm not trying to denigrate anything you're doing here-- this is just not that big a deal."

He stared at her. "I am literally praising the devil. Literal songs about, literally, devil worship."

"Yeah, and it slaps. Can I have my book back?"

He held it out carefully, as if it was a chunk of meat and she was a strange animal. One that might bite. "What is it, then, that qualifies as blasphemy? In your opinion."

She took it, opened the backseat door to her car, and tossed it in, careful not to turn her back on him. "I dunno. Start with that 'prosperity gospel' bullshit. 'If you're rich, it's because Jesus wants you to be rich!' Joel Osteen can bite the fucking curb. It's lazy exegesis, is what it is." Again, he saw her restrain herself, and she ran a hand through her hair, embarrassed. "I can go on. Obviously. But I think if you're getting bent out of shape about this kind of thing, you need to reassess your priorities."

"No, this is-- at least amusing. You haven't chased us out with torches and pitchforks yet, so I will continue to assume good faith." He smiled. "So to speak."

"Trust me, I am leaving a lot of stuff out." She fished around in her purse, picked out a brilliantly blue pack of cigarettes, and tapped them rhythmically on the heel of her hand. "So what's your deal? I don't know a lot about theistic Satanism. Pop the hood on it, man, tell me how it works."

"In simple terms?"

"Sure." She cracked a smile, thumbing a cigarette out of the pack.

"We honor the serpent that brought knowledge to Eve, as a liberator from the oppression of the corrupted demiurge that you call God."

"The snake, this was one of those gnostic things, right? That was, what, the Ophites? I thought they found it at Nag Hammadi."

"Fragments. References. But we have had the Syntagma for centuries. This was Hippolytus, yes? We borrowed a few things from Marcion of Sinope, as well. From those texts, and other pieces of what you would call apocrypha, we solidified a doctrine. Eventually. These things take time, no? Remind me, when did your people decide on the canon?"

"Council of Rome. I wanna say three..." she tapped the unlit cigarette, "...eighty seven? Somewhere in there. Fourth century, anyway."

"Just so. As a, you'd say-- distinct movement, yes? I would say sometime around the twelfth century that we came together."

"Hold on, twelfth century, evil demiurge-- what was this, like a splinter of the Cathars?"

"Not unrelated. When it came to that kind of dualism, we merely decided to side with the physical world."

"By running straight to the devil."

"Eh. No half measures."

"I'm just kinda surprised it got traction in that environment."

"Mostly on the-- margins, you would say? We had solidified the clerical structure some time before, modeled on the Catholic church. Camouflage, yes? But it was with the obvious corruption of the fourteenth century that we started to gain momentum. Acolytes. A whisper network of proselytization."

"That is neat. Like, what, a Dark Reformation kind of thing?"

"...That is, perhaps, somewhat reductive. But not inaccurate."

"Oh that is so cool. It's like finding a whole new life form in the Marianas Trench. No, I can see a kind of sense to it. Get far enough away from Rome, look as close as you can to the actual Church, you might get away with it."

"They did burn us. Your people did do that."

"I am sure that they did," she said, with a certain blithe amicability. "Burnt a lot of Cathars, too, makes sense. Sir-- Father-- I'm sorry. What is the title?"

"Cardinal."

A blink, barely perceptible. "Cardinal, then. Your Eminence, if you want me to stand here and apologize for every atrocity the Church committed, we're gonna be here all night, and it'll get boring quick. And, forgive me, at what point have I attached a moral judgment over your faith?"

He spread his hands, smiling a little. "Very well, I concede the point. You can understand if I am somewhat-- defensive."

"Yeah, of course." She grinned, mostly to herself. "And here I am, a good Catholic girl. Everything you rail against."

"Eh. It could be worse. You could be a Baptist."

She let out a laugh at that, an entirely inelegant sound, and Copia felt as if he'd won something.

"Oh. No. No, I couldn't. Too diffuse. A million different opinions going every which way. I'm also not into sola fide--"

"'By faith alone.'"

"Yeah. Not my bag. If it doesn't inspire you to help your fellow human beings and not just focus on your own salvation, it's probably bullshit." Finally she put the cigarette she'd been fidgeting with into her mouth. "Man. Cathars and gnostics." The woman brought out a burnished zippo and flipped the lid, a faintly musical sound. She didn't light her cigarette, but shot him a sidelong look, eyes alight. "Sounds more like heresy than outright blasphemy."

"Oh, now I'm offended." He was not, in fact, offended. He was fascinated. He wanted to study her under a microscope. "Certainly, that's the first time I've heard that. Maybe I should send you to talk to the-- ehh, how is it? The protestors. What do you call, the evangelicals, yes?"

"They don't like Catholics, either. The veneration of Mary, y'know? Idolatry." Finally she sparked the lighter, her face turning to alabaster in the light of the flame. "We're both going to hell in their lights. Just different neighborhoods." She bent her head to the light. A long drag on the cigarette, exhaling a plume of smoke upwards. "So no, I don't think going to a concert counts as a sin. There's just some songs I can't sing along to, is all."

Copia leaned back against the wall, arms folded, considering her. "You know that your Church would call this blasphemy. What is it, then, that you think I'm doing, if not spreading the word of Satan?"

A long drag of her cigarette. "Sick tunes, man," she said, around the smoke. Shrugged. "It's fun. And fun is underrated, as a concept."

"Signora, I don't think 'fun' is what brought you here." He leveled her with his mismatched stare, and she dropped her eyes.

"No," she said, studying the cherry on her cigarette. "No, fun would not be enough."

He took a step closer, not quite edging into her personal space. "What, then? What could possibly bring you to deny your programming, when you clearly believe with such conviction?"

The back of her shoulders hit the top of her car, but she tilted her head up at him in challenge. "Call it joy, then." A defiant kind of vulnerability. "That's what I hear in your songs. And that's a rarer thing."

"What a monstrous thing, to deny joy. To yourself, to others. That sounds to me like blasphemy. What abnegation of the self. We are not hurting anyone. I am not hurting anyone. Why not do as you like?"

"'An it harm none, do as thou wilt.'"

"Precisely."

"Isn't that, what, Louÿs by way of Crowley? Nineteenth century. I thought your stuff was older than that."

"That is beside the point and you know it. Answer me."

"Because that's where it falls apart for me! To begin and end with 'do no harm' does not work. You cannot always do exactly as you like, you have an obligation in society! Feed the hungry. 'Do what you want, whatever,' that's too passive. And being passive in the face of oppression is oppression! Come on, man, you must know this. You're too smart not to know this."

"I'm sorry, you want to talk about oppression? With the literal Catholic Church? With the colonialism and the forced conversion and the actual literal Inquisition? Even laying that aside, the harm it's doing now, how can you still stay with it?"

"Because that's not all it is! Not all it could be. Because it can be just, it can be equitable, and it can be used as a tool for liberation. I believe that, I do. And if if I'm in it-- and oh boy you would not believe how much I'm in it-- then I have a moral obligation to try to shape it towards those ends. Because those people--" she flung a hand out, gesturing towards what, he couldn't say, and he took a step back. "Those bullshit assholes that want to strip people of healthcare and gut the social safety net-- they're in my house! And they don't get to fucking win."

"You must see that this is about control. You are too smart not to know this."

The woman slumped back against her car, and took another long drag on her cigarette, before dropping it and crushing it under her boot, an oddly fussy swiveling motion. "I dunno, man. For me it's about service. You just don't fix something by walking away. And anyway I'm committed."

"I think you are tilting at windmills." He watched her, the last tendrils of cigarette smoke from her exhale the same blue-grey of her eyes, letting the silence linger until the smoke cleared entirely. "What is your name?"

She flicked her eyes back up at him, and then away, coming to a decision. "Sophia Turner." She bit her lip. "Sophie."

"Sophie. That's lovely."

"Thank you. And what do I call you? Feels a little weird, saying 'Your Eminence' to a guy whose faith you don't subscribe to."

He tilted his head in the faintest approximation of a bow, biting back a smile. "Copia."

"Well. I am delighted to make your acquaintance." Her accent more pronounced with the formality, a distinctly Southern drawl.

"You say you're committed. How? You don't have to stay anywhere forever."

"Oh. Oh boy. Um." She looked down at her hands, picked at the edge of a painted nail, and then turned to him, watching his mismatched eyes for a long moment. She smiled, a little rueful. "I am taking my vows in a few months." And to his blank look-- "The Maryknoll Sisters of St. Dominic." He blinked, recoiled a little, and she flinched, turning to look down the street, not seeing the rain on the asphalt, the streetlight shining on the fire escape. "I still don't think it's a sin. But it's-- maybe a little harder to square. After that. Wanted to see you while I could."

Her face composed. No-color hair hanging in grey eyes. He wanted to reach out, to brush it away, to see her clear, to make her look at him. A gulf between them, on the narrow sidewalk. Something twisted in his chest, at the waste of it, the thought of a fire like that locked in a cloister. And yet: "I could never fault someone for devotion to their faith. The discipline is admirable. Truly. But I would-- Are you allowed? To fraternize with the enemy?"

"Well. Maybe in the spirit of friendly ecumenical dialogue." She looked up at the streetlights, shoulders tensed. She chewed at her lip. "We are allowed to have friends, you know."

He had to drop his gaze, at that, a sharp inhalation. "Ah." And again: "Ah. Hm." He looked back up at her, at the tense muscle in her jaw, her face still resolutely turned away from him. "I wonder--?"

She darted a quick look at him, not quite daring to look at him full-on, yet, and made a motion for him to continue.

He had to smile, even if it was with a little trepidation. "Do you have another cigarette?"

That rough bark of a laugh again, and yes, it felt like a victory. "Yeah. Yeah, man, sure." She pulled out the cigarette pack and extracted one, holding it out with the slightest self-deprecating hint of ceremony. He took it between his gloved fingers, careful not to touch her. When he put it to his lips she leaned in to light it in a movement that seemed both courtly and instinctual, an ingrained habit. He couldn't quite look at her when she did it, shocked by the casual intimacy of the gesture. The warmth of the flame through his gloves, the first rough hit of smoke at the back of his throat and the head-swimming nicotine rush. An awful taste, and completely satisfying. He closed his eyes at it and drew in deep, amazed all over again at how much tension dissipated on the exhale.

When the initial wave of the nicotine high had passed, the fatigue settled in, and he tilted his head back against the bricks, eyes still closed, too tired to be on guard. "Where are we? I confess, I lost track."

"...Asheville, honey." A pause."D'jeet yet?"

Well, that certainly got him to look at her. "I'm sorry?"

"Oh, that was very pronounced, wasn't it? My apologies. Have you eaten?"

His brain felt like static. It was all the answer she needed. "What I figured. C'mon, I know a spot."

"I should--" He stopped, inexplicably stricken. "We're leaving in the morning. I don't remember where's next. Charleston, perhaps?"

"I'll have you home before bedtime, scout's honor." He hesitated. Gently: "I don't have designs on your virtue, Cardinal."

He was tired, and sore, and his head was starting to hurt somewhere behind his right eye. He could feel the dried sweat on himself, like a film, absolutely revolting.

"Alright," he said.

She led and he followed, falling into step at her left elbow, almost without thought. "This is the South, yes? We won't-- we might attract. Attention."

"Mm. I might would worry about it somewhere wasn't Asheville. Here'd probably be fine."

"That seems to be an awful lot of weight to put on 'probably.'"

"More worried about someone from your show running into us and losing their minds, be honest with you."

"As in, dropping their purse and squealing?" Was he enjoying this? He was.

"Oh you think you're funny. And I did not squeal."

"Heh. It was a little bit of a squeal."

"Ain't gonna argue the point with you."

The nicotine felt wonderful. He grinned up at the streetlight filtering through a magnolia tree, the orange light reflecting on the leaves, the faint citrus scent hanging in the thick air. He couldn't restrain himself. "You are not, I hope, leading me into temptation?"

"Oh, foul! Foul. Get thee behind me."

"Equally terrible, signora."

They lapsed into silence for a while. Copia came to the last quarter inch of his cigarette, pinching off one more drag before dropping it down a storm drain. The smell would linger, but it had been blissful in the moment. "So."

"So."

"Where are you taking me?"

"Barbecue joint, open all night. Just up here, actually. You had barbecue yet?"

"I have not."

"You in for a treat, then."

They rounded the corner, heading into the jaundiced sodium light of a patchy parking lot, under a flickering red neon sign. 'Little Pigs Genuine Pit BBQ.' It seemed somehow ominous, but the set of her shoulders reassured him. Somewhat. She pushed open the door with its small jangling bell to red vinyl booths, formica tabletops, wood paneling. Vinegar and roasting meat.

He could feel the eyes on them as she ordered for them both, in a dialect so thick it was almost incomprehensible to him. He stepped closer to murmur, "Coffee for me, please, signora," while he surveilled the crowd. Not outright hostile, had seen stranger things, maybe, but a collective flicker of curiosity before sliding off of them. That flat and unsympathetic gaze. Her accent helped. His obvious manners did as well. Still, he was on edge.

He stayed on edge until he slid into a booth opposite her with his back to the wall, and even then it only let up slightly, a background hum to go along with the labored air conditioning. The barbecue was very nearly worth it, salt and sweet and vinegar and umami, along with the blunt force animal pleasure at hot food after a long time without. He looked up at her, making an inarticulate noise of shocked delight through the sandwich, and she nodded in eager agreement with her mouth full. Swallowed. "I know, right?"

"You cannot convert me."

"Okay. Wasn't trying."

"If you could, this might do it."

"Welcome to the South. It's got problems, but there are compensations."

"So I see."

They lost themselves in the food for a little while, and Copia, a usually fastidious man, found that it was actually impossible to eat a barbecue sandwich neatly. After a while he gave up trying, grateful for the strange softness of American paper napkins. It made sense, if the food was like this. He eyed her iced tea, wondering about it, if that was also an American custom, or if it only applied to the region.

She caught him looking after half a second, and passed it over with barely an eyeblink of thought, the most natural thing in the world.

"Oh, and you've lost me. This is an obscene amount of sugar."

"They do call it 'sweet tea' for a reason."

"Are you sure that this isn't just colored sugar water?"

"Reasonably so. Might be accentual, brings out the depth of flavor, like. Least it isn't corn syrup."

"This is a nightmare dystopia you live in."

"Could be. Try one of them hush puppies, then you get back to me."

"Mm." Then, after following instructions, "I will concede on the food."

"Yeah. There's nowhere and nothing that's bad all the way through."

"Perhaps." He took another sip of her tea, pleased at her sputter of mock-indignation. "This brings me to where it falls apart for me. An omnipotent, omniscient, omnipresent, omnibenevolent God."

"That is the doctrine."

"Why, then, evil? Why suffering?"

"We going with theodicy, then?"

He motioned for her to continue, a little gleeful.

"Which answer would you like, from the, oh, four-five thousand years that this has been a question?" She tossed the rolled-up sleeve of her straw in his general direction, smiling. "Why you coming at me with this shit, man?"

"Ehh. I want to know what you think. You, not your Church."

She nodded, and poked at the ice in her tea with her straw while she gave the question the consideration it was due. Finally: "I like Simone Weil for this. You read any Simone Weil?"

"Let us say that I haven't."

"Okay." The vinyl booth squeaked as she leaned back. "This isn't necessarily unique to her, it's got a lot of similarities with-- a Jewish creation story, yeah? But creation is where God withdrew. If God is everything, for creation to exist, there has to be places where God is not. If there's places that God is not, then almost by definition they are not, inherently, holy. It's apophatic, unknowable, like John of the Cross or Kierkegaard or what have you-- I'm getting into the weeds here. Evil is the form which God's mercy takes in the world. Affliction-- she's got a specific term for this, she's talking about spiritual affliction more than physical affliction-- doesn't create human misery, so much as reveals it. And it drives us towards God."

"That sounds, if you will pardon me, fucking horrific. The act of a sadist."

"I don't know that I'm explaining this well. We are created matter, and with affliction we are consumed by God. In the Incarnation, God suffers affliction, is made matter, and consumed by us. It's reciprocal. And if you can go through affliction and still love, and recognize your fellow human being as someone else who has suffered like you, then your duty is to help."

"No, still terrible."

"How do your people explain it, then?"

"By not having an omnipotent deity, to start."

"...I walked right into that one. I surely did. Evil demiurge, again?"

"All about control," he replied, amiable.

"Fair enough. I'm not a Jesuit, I could maybe get at this better if I was. My whole thing with it is, there's a difference between affliction-- which is personal-- and, say, generalized oppression, right? The personal makes you more empathetic with the collective."

"I can see the logic there, yes. I do not know if I agree, but I can see it. But do you truly need to suffer to sympathize with another's suffering?"

She turned her glass around in her hands, focusing hard on the ridged plastic edges. "I'unno. Some things you don't understand till you've been through them. Difference between empathy and sympathy, I guess."

"This is, what. You say, 'the personal is political?'"

She cracked a grin at that. "Oh, you done a lot of reading on second-wave feminism, then?"

"Condescending and uncalled for," he said, wagging a finger at her, mock-stern.

She held up a hand. "Fair point, apologies."

"Te absolvo."

"Thank you." She turned her glass in her hands, trailing through the condensation with a chipped fingernail. "My point being. For me. Affliction leads to empathy, and empathy leads you to act. What's the quote. 'Misery as a collective fact expresses itself as an injustice that cries to the heavens.' That's Oscar Romero, I think? Yeah. Oscar Romero. Anyway the thing he gets at-- Saint Oscar Romero, excuse me, did a lot of stuff in El Salvador in the the seventies, but the idea being: turning people into commodities for economic oppression, that's sin. The idolatry of wealth, of 'national security systems,' that's sin. Divine love should be mediated through justice. Gloria dei vivens homo--"

"'The glory of God is the living person.'"

"Yeah, exactly. Romero was on some-- gloria dei vivens pauper, which I think is probably about right."

"'The glory of God is in the poor.' Hm. And how well did that work out for him?"

"Well. They shot the guy during Mass in nineteen eighty."

"A martyr's death. Isn't that what your people aspire to?"

"Not me, man. I wanna live. But yes, he did lean in hard after his friend was killed. That was an inciting incident. I won't deny it."

"So, what, it is acceptable for one death, if it spurs on 'the greater good?'" He made air quotes at her, and she frowned.

"Not gonna debate the very concept of martyrdom with you, but I'm gonna say no, of course not. But like. Me personally? Rather that than have it go to waste. Some right wing fascist chucklefuck takes me out, I'd sure hope my people'd leverage it for all it's worth."

He sat back and tipped his coffee at her. "Bleak."

"Maybe. We each owe a death. And I mean, despite the guy being beatified, he isn't even necessarily the main dude in Latin America. None of these are exactly new concepts, you understand. But as a modern movement, really, it starts in nineteen sixty-eight, with the Medellín conference in Colombia, kind of as a response to Vatican Two, and from there--" she stopped herself, and raised her glass of tea at him in mock-salute. "Minutiae. The point, and I think I'm cribbing from Ernesto Cardenal here, is that while God is love, love can only exist in accordance with equality and justice."

He tilted his head, raising his eyebrows in total skepticism. "I can only say that this has been-- the opposite of my experience. To put it in the most, eh, diplomatic terms possible."

"The Church has done horrible, fucked up things. Continues to do horrible fucked up things. In a space that big, though, there are always going to be practices that are inherently contradictory. This one is mine. And I have the benefit of being fucking right."

"You do see, don't you, how that-- attitude? Mentality, yes? Is dangerous. Even you! Even if I happen to think that you're right. Which I actually do. The benefit of Satanism, I find, is that we do have room for differences. It is, you would say, I think, built in? There is no wrong way to approach. You find your own way. Nobody will lead you, nobody will control you."

"And how far has that kind of rugged individualism progressed the reduction of human suffering?" she snapped.

"At least it doesn't perpetuate it!" he shot back.

They glared at each other over the formica, not quite snarling, equally frustrated.

The diner had gone quiet. Blank suntanned faces, the lone clink of a spoon in a coffee cup, the somehow awful bubbling of the deep fryer. A lot of people, for one in the morning, he thought. They looked at each other in mutual alarm for one tensed breath, and went for their wallets at the same time.

"No," he said, firm, fishing past Euros for American dollars. "You are taking a vow of poverty and I am an actual rockstar." He shot a stern glance at her opened mouth and felt a stab of immense satisfaction when she shut it, apparently- miraculously, even- chastised. He threw down enough to cover the bill and the tip and reached to drag her out, stopping short of actually touching her elbow at the last moment. "Come."

She went.

They escaped with the perversely jaunty ring of the bell over the door into the thick warmth of the night, and she brayed a laugh again, not quite on the edge of hysterics.

"Go, go, this could get ugly." But he was laughing, too. Madness. He'd seen these exact sort of people outside of a venue, enraged, faces red, carrying hateful picket signs. One small woman and one man frankly built like a noodle could be in real danger. Still, their laughter echoed down the gravel-lined drive they had ducked into, their boots crunching in a staccato rhythm in the stones. This was far too much adrenaline for one night, he thought.

While they slowed to a walk, he watched the fireflies darting upwards in the undergrowth, the ascending dashes of yellow-green light seeming fantastical to him, otherworldly. You heard of great masses of them, in America, but in such quantity it was like seeing a fairytale with your own eyes. They thinned out as the landscape started to shift, from residential suburbs to side streets.

"This was-- good. It was good, to get out. To talk. A lot of this, it is, ehh." He waved a hand in the general direction they were moving, to the venue, the concert, the tour. "Movement. Instinct. There is, by definition, no quiet. And that is fantastic, I enjoy it, I love what I do, I am fortunate in that. But it is not often that I get to speak about these things." The thud of their boots, and the high monotonous drone of a cicada somewhere off in the distance, blending with the faraway hiss of a car on the damp streets. "Thank you," he said, soft. "For this."

Her eyes forward, mouth closed tight. It took her a few steps before she spoke. "You are very welcome." She cleared her throat. "And I appreciate the outside perspective."

"Interesting thing, is it not? Having a vocation."

"Being called. Yes."

"What I do not understand-- and I do not wish to, as you said, litigate the very idea of martyrdom, of course--"

"Of course. That's above my pay grade anyhow."

"But the denial inherent in your practice. The self-denial. It seems to me a, hm. Turning away from joy. You say your God is love, very well. This is removed from my experience with Christians, but I do understand that it should be the intent. To claim that divinity is love and then to willingly cut yourself off from the experience of love seems to me contradictory. Not merely the physical, although that alone seems hideous. Some people of course are not interested, but this cannot be true of all your monsastics, your clergy, your unmarried."

"This is also an old question."

"You cannot tell me it is not vital. Few people are physically martyred, and I can see the value there, even if I think it grotesque. But this seems to me a martyrdom, and willing. And pointless. Everyone should be loved, yes? Is that not your very doctrine?"

"It is, but there's different kinds of love--"

"You are dissembling. Do me the courtesy, Miss Turner, of your honesty."

Copia heard her sharp intake of breath. He had stung her, and he very nearly regretted it.

"Discourtesy wasn't my aim, Cardinal. It's an old question, and people struggle. It's maybe the struggle, for most people, the stumbling block. How can I answer you? It's kind of a personal question, y'know?"

"I can see how it would be. I do not wish to intrude, but come now. What, you offer your suffering up to God? What kind of God would ask you to give up love in the very name of love? It's monstrous!"

"The standard answer is that one becomes the bride of Christ. My thinking is, in turning away from the singular, you're better able to focus on the collective. To focus, to pay attention. And attention in its highest form is prayer."

"You deny yourself. In denial, you turn away knowledge. You said this yourself, how can you understand suffering if you have not suffered? You should know joy, or else how can you understand joy? You should be free to do that, to be in the world, and the world is here! You are here, and while you are here you should be here fully. You should allow yourself to be loved!"

He had actually raised his voice, and his words hung in the thick air, almost suspended with the humidity. He couldn't take it back, and he fell silent, mortified. They had fallen to a stop.

"It's discipline," she said, helpless. She couldn't look at him, and he had to look away at her expression.

"In any case." He cleared his throat, and resumed walking. "Discipline I understand. There is discipline in my practice, you know."

"I can see that. Dedication, certainly. Seems like the whole world's against you. The dominant social climate is not accommodating to being that outspoken about, well, anything to do with sincere belief, really, but especially in your case."

"No. And in this situation, it is easy to-- tend to isolate. To stay in one's own community. Safer. Especially in a hostile environment. Anger is easy, you would say."

"Don't I know it. You do have to live in the world. I think you and I both have cause to be angry. Hell, we're probably angry at a lot of the same things. Coming at it from opposite directions, is all."

"The hypocrisy is galling," he agreed. "If I am a monster in the eyes of these people, let me be an honest monster. They feed their children poison and tell them it is virtue, to hate, to fear, I do not--" he cut himself off, blew out a laugh. "We are angry about the same things. The work is the same. We are both called to liberate, yes?"

"Yeah, I would allow that's fairly definitional."

"Here, you take that side, I will take this one, and we will meet in the middle and cast off all oppression," he said, grandly, sweeping out an arm as if he were back on stage. He echoed her smile on pure reflex.

"And all shall be well, and all shall be well, and all manner of things shall be well."

"Julian of Norwich. An anchoress." Something in the concept, and in the simultaneous hope and resignation in her face, pierced his heart all the way through. She was remote, and lost to him, a marble statue of a saint. The nature of his ministry was to encourage pleasure, of mind and of body, and he did want to break her out of the cell she'd walled herself off into. Perhaps merely for his own satisfaction, when freedom was the whole of his law. Even her freedom to walk into her own cage. "Not so much to be consoled as to console," he said, halfway to himself, watching her.

"Francis of Assisi. But I think you knew that."

"I did."

"You are something else, aren't you?" She looked at him, pleased and reassessing. He felt seen, almost entire.

It was not an entirely comfortable feeling. "Ah," he said. "Perhaps."

He recognized, now, the alleyway they had walked down, the venue shuttered for the night. The only lights inside were deep in the back, distant. Likely everything had been packed away, or near enough. Likely the ghouls were wondering where he was. And she was small, and faith alone would not protect her.

It was too much for him. "It is very late. And I do not know if-- do you have a place to stay? This is not, I think, your home."

"I don't and it's not." She waved him off. "Was planning on just sleeping in the car. The seats fold down, I got a pillow, it's fine."

"I don't like it."

"Ain't about what you like." She dropped her head. "I apologize, that was rude."

"No, it is only--." He rubbed the back of his neck, sheepish. "I do have a hotel room."

"No." It seemed reflexive. But he could see the split second flash of her face cracking open with sheer want. Watched her snatch her composure together just as quick, even as the afterimage lingered in his brain like the echo of a lightning strike. "No, I-- I do not think that would be a good idea."

"There is a couch, even. I could take the couch."

"Copia." Oh, and it was costing her. Painful to watch. That wretched self denial. "Please." A brittle little laugh, accent creeping back in as she forced herself to sound brighter. "I seen you bounce around that stage, you gonna need a mattress."

"Nothing you do not wish, Miss Turner. Never that," he said, as gently as he could. A breath of silence strung out in the thick air, the space of a heartbeat. "Anyways." He considered his position, took a breath, and made the leap. "It would be good to-- I would like to continue this argument. You have some time, no? Before you are-- fully committed. Come to Charleston. My guest. In the spirit of, eh, ecumenical dialogue."

That got a smile out of her. "I'll think about it."

"Please. Do."

"I will. I will think about it."

"In that case." He straightened his spine by three degrees, took the smallest step forward, and picked up her hand in both of his. Even though the gloves it made something catch behind his sternum, the stutter of some cog in engineering. He bowed over it as deeply as he ever had on stage, registered the barest breath of the smell of her, leather and nicotine and something like amber, a clean animal scent. It was only an instant, and he straightened with some regret. "I have enjoyed your company, Sophie."

"I--. Yes. Yeah. Me too." She squeezed his hand, once. "Very much. Be well, Cardinal." And then she slipped away.

He watched her carefully measured walk to her car, head held up with the dignity of the condemned. She opened her door and looked back for the space of one brief inhalation. Orpheus, he thought, nonsensically. He stared at her taillights, the red glow like eyes, the dragon's breath curl of exhaust, long after it had faded into the wide restless night.

It was another twenty minutes before one of the ghouls dragged him back inside.

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pretendfan · 1 year ago

Text

[Cruel to be Kind]

Mickey Altieri x F!Reader

💜7k💜

[A/N:This has been stuck in my head for a while now, I’ve been working on it forever. I’m not even sure if it makes sense or even sounds like Mickey, (I may or may not have added too many movie/tv references) but it’s finally here and I kinda like it so let me know what you think!]

“How much did you really know about Mickey Altieri? Sure he was your boyfriend of course but it wasn’t until a week ago, that a misdemeanour in the sack causes an argument, and for him to realise that he had to fix this mistake quickly but the question was how?”

Warnings:18+ ONLY swearing and some smut, Mickey is a naughty boy in the sack, mentions of light choking, Mickey’s serial killer tendencies are showing, dubious ending, some smut,p in the v, straight to getting laid, Mickey’s true colours, movie quotes a go-go, kinda cheesy it is a grand gesture after all...this is oh-so loosely inspired by the first script for SCREAM 2 that was leaked where Mickey was in the role of Derek and that scene in the cafeteria which I fucking love was him serenading Hallie originally but now it’s you…

The very last thing that you wanted to do right now was head into the campus cafeteria for food, grabbing something from a vending machine instead seemed like a way better idea, and it definitely wasn’t because you were avoiding your boyfriend though no fucking way.

Your life had pretty much changed the moment you were introduced to Mickey Altieri, the guy who spoke in film quotes and spent a huge amount of time, carrying a hand held video camera around usually obscuring his face as he filmed life around him.

You knew Mickey was a huge flirt hell you were even warned about it many times, but within minutes you had found yourself caught up in his smile and those confident brown eyes, the ones that had pinned you in place when met across a busy room that night at some random party on campus.

Now fast forward six months later and a little space was definitely needed, seeing what had happened over a week ago when you had been together in his bed, with Mickey placing a large hand around your neck whilst you rode him which had shocked you a little to say the least.

It had actually caused a huge argument with you fighting off tears, whilst Mickey had told you that sometimes he just had to be “Cruel to be kind” as if that actually warranted his behaviour.

…leaving you needing some space despite all of the weak apologies, that had fallen rapidly from your boyfriends soft lips.

A few thoughts had clicked into place after that incident, you mostly realising how intense Mickey was in real life almost like you were seeing a new side to him, it had both opened your eyes and kind of turned you on in equal measures.

…but that was the very least of your worries right now.

Because the last thing that you wanted was to break up with Mickey, but he had now stopped apologising to you even though you were in turn avoiding him, yet you didn’t want to be the first one to bring it up.

…seeing that you knew exactly how much the guy loathed rom coms despite being a goofy sweetheart usually.

“Are you really sure this idea will actually work? Surely someone will stop you-“

“Lighten up Derek it’s happening ok, but just know that you are my shitty accomplice in all this.” Mickey cuts off his roommate with a wide smile, and a hint of sarcasm playing on the tip of his tongue, whilst he scanned the cafeteria for your face.

“You must’ve done something real bad to have to go this low to win back y/n.” Derek retorts with a deep chuckle.

“It’s either I make a grand gesture or this right here becomes my evil origin story.” Mickey declares with a shrug, knowing full well which one he would rather go for, but right now wasn’t the time.

“You are so weird, Altieri.” Derek states whilst shaking his head with a small smile attached.

“Well I blame the movies, Feldman.” Mickey shoots back with a knowing grin on his face, because things were going exactly to plan it was all too perfect.

It had been breaking news even to Mickey that he would actually meet someone he could care about, here at Windsor college of all places where he had other things to be focused on, but you had been such a distraction it actually made the experience of being here all the more worth while.

It wasn’t as if he had tried to voice these thoughts to you, but then Mickey had gotten a bit too rough in bed yet he had definitely seen the gleam in your eye, when he had tightened his grip only for you to move off him very quickly.

…only because some idiot had knocked on the dorm room door and run away, totally killing the moment between you two.

Mickey knew that he owed you big he wanted you to know how much he cared, how far he had come with you by his side if it hadn’t been for your being Sidney’s roommate, he would never have gotten closer to her absolutely fascinated by the brunette’s past life.

…he really did still want to interview her some day with his video camera, and list of questions about her ex Billy and his idiotic friend Stu because they had been such amateurs.

But for now he just needed this idea to work like a scene straight from a nauseous romance movie, Mickey would win you over with his goofy charms and still have you by his side, that was what he wanted at the end of all this for you to be with him in the long run.

…he had many reasons to be sitting here right now in this cafeteria, and all of them came back to you despite working better alone it turned out he had a heart after all.

The thought did naturally scare him because Mickey was known for being a slut around these parts, he usually hooked up fast and often but after meeting you that had come to a sudden halt, actually respecting you enough which made him feel like a whole new guy.

…but there were parts of him that not even you knew were there, but you would do pretty soon if all this worked out like the way he hoped.

Having quickly walked past Hallie McDaniels who was waiting for you outside the cafeteria, you were almost out of the building scot free until your roommate Sidney catches you with a swift tug on your arm to stop you, grudgingly spinning around on your heels to meet your fate.

Alongside Mickey you had also tried to avoid your friends, but that clearly hadn’t worked because Sidney Prescott was looking at you with excitement on her face, which was a good look on her after all that had happened back in her hometown.

…both the massacre of Woodsboro students and then the aftermath, a town in mourning and the bitch Gale Weathers blowing a shitstorm through it all.

Which was maybe happening again would you believe a serial killer on campus, it sounded like a bad horror movie but this was Sidney’s real life, being reduced to two bodyguards following her everywhere and putting all the other student bodies on edge.

…three students dead already the second year of college was starting to scare the hell out of you.

Yet regardless of this you now saw the smile on Sid’s face, showing how brave she was which you couldn’t even begin to imagine seeing how you were avoiding Mickey, and he wasn’t even a killer just a dude who had gotten a bit too adventurous in bed.

“Aren’t you supposed to be meeting Hallie for lunch?” Sidney asks in a teasing voice dropping her hand from your arm whilst you fantasise about leaving this moment very quickly.

“I can’t I have a class soon-“

“Yeah in like two hours y/n so what’s the rush?” Sidney asks with a questioning look that you didn’t even have an answer to retort back with.

“No rush I-“

“Need to eat lunch! I’m sure Mickey is in there as well you guys haven’t been together much for the past couple of days.” Sidney informs you like you didn’t already know what was happening, an itch to suddenly tell all to the brunette next to you is hard to resist.

“Yeah we had an argument.” You begin in a low voice, but when you notice that Sidney doesn’t look very surprised you add “But I guess everyone knows about that it’s just I’ve been super busy.”

“Either way mickey will find you, so you might as well go and face the music in the cafeteria.” Sidney explains with a misplaced laugh, kind of like you were out of the loop on some inside joke.

“Er, sure fine I have time to grab a quick bite I guess.” You nod despite the rest of your body which was in flight mode, making you want to run away like the victim that you were.

“Perfect, so let’s go!” Sidney cheers grabbing hold of your arm again, as you both head back towards the cafeteria, ignoring the curious glances from the guards leaning against a wall.

“Sid? You do remember that the food here is trash-“

“Oh is it?” Sidney replies only half listening as she pushes open the large dark brown wooden doors, pulling you into the very last place you wanted to be right now.

…with the mall cops hurriedly following behind you both wearing pained looks, which somehow matched your face perfectly.

Noticing the looks from other students whilst being with Sidney, you see that she hasn’t even batted an eyelid, walking confidently towards the line for food tugging at your arm to hurry up.

Your eyes betray you by glancing over towards one of the tables the group sat at often, so of course you spot the back of Mickey’s head as he leans across the table, talking to a bemused looking Derek almost without a care in the world unlike you.

…his dark brown spiky hair sticking out in a million directions, whilst his hands moved around to his animated voice, because the guy was always talking he rarely paused for breath.

This thought makes you think of Sidney and how overdramatic you sounded right now, she had actually been through some shit whilst you had just discovered that your college boyfriend had a kink, which tracked because you had heard a lot of stories about Mickey in bed.

The guy had his own collection of rumours that had made their way to you, on the same day as meeting him you had become even more invested after learning that he liked to use his tongue a lot, which again tracked because you had first hand experience of this.

…both in and out of his bed because the guy would never stop talking sometimes, and the only way to distract him, was with a quick kiss seeing how that always worked in your favour.

“Hello ladies!” Announces a voice that makes you finally look away from staring at Mickey, to come face to face with Randy Meeks a friend within your group, with an embarrassingly obvious crush on Sid that was oh-so-clearly unrequited.

“What do you want?” You ask Randy grumpily unaware that, right now Mickey’s brown eyes were staring directly into your back, as all three of you had joined the line for food.

“Just haven’t seen you around for a bit, how are things with you and the mouse?” Randy questions with a cheesy laugh, whilst staring at Sid who looks down at her feet instead of helping you out.

“Me and Mickey are fine just ignore the rumours-“

“So you still haven’t dumped his stupid ass yet then?” Questions Randy sounding almost in pain as he reaches his point by adding “Man, that guy is so lucky you know that you could do so much better than him!”

“I think that you could do better than this Randy, maybe go and watch some more movies-“

“Is that a date then?” Randy asks you with a wiggle of his eyebrows as he steps back, into the busy crowd surrounding the cafeteria only to disappear seconds later from view.

“In your dreams.” You mutter to yourself making Sidney giggle as she hands you a tray, but you just grab some bags of chips instead ignoring the look on your friends face.

“Are there really rumours about you and Mickey?” Sidney asks making you look away from the staff behind the counter, to see her dark eyes watching you very carefully.

“Probably, but all I know is that we are fine I think, don’t want to overthink things it’s just a college romance-“

“I could easily see me and Derek staying together!” Sidney cuts you off in a dreamy but quiet voice like she hadn’t realise she had just shared that nugget of information.

“I just want to make it through lunch-“

“Let’s go and sit down with everyone else then!” Sidney cuts you off for the hundredth time, but you let it slide because you had other things on your mind currently.

Thoughts like what if Mickey had told the other guys about what had happened, sure college was a time to be adventurous but you didn’t want to get a name, even though you did get asked a lot as to why you were dating the “freaky Tarantino obsessed” guy from film class.

…mostly by Randy who always seemed surprised, that the pair of you were even together still.

But you were the only one who knew Mickey deep down, like how thoughtful he was and not to mention goofy by quoting whole chunks of scenes from movies, even attempting to act out the parts and then critique his own work the guy was a dork to be sure.

You had also often wondered about past girlfriends, the ones who helped fuel some of the rumours around campus that he was a cheap ride, but you knew since meeting him that he was true to you but you weren’t sure how much that statement rung true anymore.

“Are you coming or are you just gonna stand there all day?” Sid asks with a giggle as you pay for your food, then quickly decide to follow her and see what happens, likening yourself to a Dr Pepper commercial.

…what was the worse that could happen?

Not looking where you were going you soon walk straight into the back of Sidney, quickly glancing over her shoulder to see Randy had stopped your roommate in her tracks, because he could never be too far from Sid sure they were friends from before but the guy was obsessed.

“Now what-“

“Did I ever tell you guys about the time when I made mouse boy look like an idiot?” Randy cuts you off with a ridiculous question, that makes Sidney laugh at the face you were currently pulling.

“Mickey would kick your ass if he ever heard you saying that.” Sidney announces with a firm nod, knowing how these two worked when stuck together for too long.

…Randy and Mickey were well- known for always fighting like, well cat and mouse.

“He hates that affectionate nickname you’ve given him by the way.” You reply with a wry laugh.

“Mere foreplay.” Randy retorts with a shrug of his right shoulder.

“Can we get past now-“

“Sshh!” Randy cuts you off once again which makes you glare at him, but he was too busy looking back at the table, where your boyfriend was currently sitting to respond to you which was super rude.

…what was people’s problem today, because sure you had woken up in a mood but this wasn’t helping one bit.

“Are you ready then?” Derek asks looking away from Randy who was talking to his girlfriend Sidney, still with those two idiot looking guards on her tail, which was for her safety of course but he could’ve looked after her a lot better.

“Too late to back out now!” Mickey responds with a smile, because he really was doing this the set up was ready with everyone in their place, plus the euphoric rush he was suddenly feeling reminded him of another time in his life.

…one which makes a smile widen across his face from the graphic memory alone.

“Tone down the smile dude you’re looking a little crazy.” Derek states rewarding Mickey with a look, whilst his roommate shrugs his shoulders unable to stop smiling.

“Hey, this smile gets the ladies!” Mickey declares matter-of-factly, whilst his eyes watch Derek who didn’t look quite convinced.

“Oh sure!” Derek laughs deeply picking at the rest of his fries, but nudging his roommate hard when he notices that you and Sid were finally approaching the table.

…it was game time!

“Babe!” Mickey cheers getting up from his plastic chair to pull one closer for you, noticing the blank look on your face which annoys him briefly, but he continues to focus on the task at hand instead.

“Hey Mickey.” You state with a small smile attempting to make an effort, noticing that both Sidney and Derek, were watching you very closely which wasn’t weird at all.

“And where have you been y/n?” Announces Hallie entering the scene stage right, whilst dropping her plastic tray heavily onto the table, with a look of pure annoyance fracturing her pretty features.

“I’ve been busy-“

“Well did you just forget that you were supposed to be meeting me?” Hallie questions cutting you off whilst still sounding very annoyed, which was all on her really because you hadn’t actually accepted the invite.

“Yeah, but we are all here now!” Sing songs Sidney with a smile aimed at her boyfriend whose blue eyes sparkle back, it was enough to make you skip lunch altogether thanks to a hint of green eyed jealousy.

Sure you liked romance movies which was obviously a criminal offence in Mickey’s eyes, yet he did let you watch the odd one but only if you placed your hand over his mouth, because otherwise he would be ripping into the whole story from start to finish.

“Including the bodyguards looking completely out of place over there.” Hallie states pointing to the two men in dark suits, staring over at our table like something was suddenly about to happen.

“Any of them take your fancy?” You ask Hallie with a smirk, because she was always talking about being the third wheel of the group, even though Randy was clearly single but deeply preoccupied.

“Old white dudes, er no thanks!” Hallie brushes off your comment with a shake of her head, holding up her can of Pepsi to signal that the conversation was now over.

“So, how are you doing Sid?” Derek asks your roommate who rewards him with a quick kiss, which makes you glance at Mickey but he was currently staring into space.

…why did this all feel so fucking awkward?

Not to mention the fact that Derek kept looking from you then back to Mickey, watching you both as if something was about to happen which wasn’t helping your mood at all.

Mickey gives his roommate a dark look when he spots him staring at you, this wasn’t part of the plan he needed to move things along and have this all work out, knowing full well that you hated lots of attention but he wanted you to know how far he would truly go.

…not that you knew how insanely obsessed Mickey could get with things, but all he cared about right now was getting you back on his side, because you were somehow a duo stuck together through thick and thin.

Sure Mickey liked to act solo usually but ever since meeting you, he felt lost by himself so he wanted to show you his whole world, but first he needed to make things right before the real truth came out.

“The sorority house is hosting another party this weekend-“

“Please tell me you are not talking about the fucking Delta’s again!?” Mickey cuts off Hallie who had been talking to Sidney, all about the pretentious sorority sisters that she seemed to gossip about all damn day.

“Excuse me-“

“There are far better things in life than being a Delta!” You cut Hallie off for once as she narrows her eyes at you instead of replying.

“Aren’t you interested in ever joining Delta then?” Begins Mickey nudging one of your elbows with his as he then declares “I would like to see you in one of those little skirts.”

“Not a chance!” You retort with a wry smile that makes Mickey laugh loudly at your admission.

“I think that you would look cute in a pink two piece.” Hallie announces with a fake smile aimed at you, because she knew you hated the colour pink it was a whole thing.

“If you mean a two piece bikini then I definitely agree!” Mickey retorts with an over enthusiastic laugh, which causes you to shake your head firmly in the negative.

There was no chance in hell of you ever wearing a bikini, or joining Delta for that matter but they were far more interested in Sid than either you or Hallie anyway, which suited you fine but the latter was still pretty beat up by the fact.

You turn to look at Mickey to see he is talking to Derek again who is pointing over at something, or someone near the entrance to the cafeteria not that you cared, but you knew it was now time to try and talk to your boyfriend just maybe not here with everyone else.

“Are you ok?” Sidney asks Derek when you also notice at the same time, the suddenly guilty look appearing on his boyish face, whilst he tried to act nonchalant which wasn’t working.

“Dammit.” You swear you hear Mickey say under his breath, but then he quickly recovers by saying to your roommate in a louder voice “I sure am Sidney thanks for asking!”

Then with a well- worn goofy smile on his face Mickey suddenly stands up from his plastic chair, pushing up the sleeves on his dark purple shirt as his brown eyes finally meet yours, at the same time that you hear music begin to play noticing Randy across the cafeteria holding up a big red boom box high in the air.

…shaking his head like he couldn’t believe this was happening right now, because in fact neither could you.

Glancing back at Mickey you see him bouncing slowly from left to right, his hips swaying in time with his open hands as he winks at you, making your eyes widen as you suddenly recognise the music playing…

“If I should stay. I would only be in your way. So I'll go. And yet, I know, I'll think of you each step of the way...” Mickey starts singing incredibly off-key with you watching him in horror, placing a hand over your mouth, as he proceeds to leap back onto his seat then hops up directly up onto your table.

Derek moves the tray’s occupying the table space as Mickey continues to sway to the music, hand now on hip as he turns round to face you whilst you look up feeling helpless.

“Please stop.” You mouth the words quickly to Mickey but he just shakes his head, then carries on straight into the chorus holding both his hands high above his head.

"And iiiiiiiiyyyiii, will always love you oooooowuoooo, will always love you!” Mickey carries on singing even getting a high note or two, before he pulls a face from hearing his own voice echoing loudly around the large room.

Clearly all of this was garnering the attention of everyone in the cafeteria, some pulling the same face as you whilst others were clapping along, because Derek was also now out of his seat as well encouraging others to wave their hands around and join in.

Mickey snatches some notes from another students hand, because they had been waving them at him shoving them into his pants pocket, causing people to start throwing chips in the air around him.

The student body were responding in kind to Mickey’s declaration, of singing a cheesy song but he was used to pulling more crazier stunts, yet if this got you back in his bed then the real fun would truly begin.

“What is even happening here?” Hallie questions in disgust unable to believe, that Mickey somehow knew a freaking Whitney Houston song.

“Someone’s being romantic!” Sidney laughs as you close your eyes embarrassed, wishing that you had never even come into the cafeteria in the first place.

“Mickey please-“

"And I hope life treats you kind, and I hope you have all you dreamed of. I wish you JOYYY." Mickey cuts you off whilst singing the next verse, deciding to jump onto another table coincidently where two of the Delta’s were currently sitting with their mouths both wide open in shock.

“You’re standing on my sandwich!?” Snaps sorority sister Murphy, brushing some of her blonde hair away from her bare shoulder in disgust.

Mickey winks down at the blonde before he turns and blows you a kiss, still singing if you could even call it that, but you knew exactly what he was doing and damn it was actually working.

Everyone is literally clapping now besides you of course as you watch Mickey leap to another table, almost missing it because he was so tall and clumsy but getting his footing right, he then decides to belt out the crescendoing chorus clearly invested in the song which makes you smile widely.

“And I will always love you!!!!” Mickey practically shouts the last line his hips swaying ridiculously, as he then jumps down to rush back over to you, the mall cops finally approaching Randy who drops the red boom box.

…holding both of his hands behind his head like he was under arrest, but they just walk away from him instead, turning round to take in the surrounding commotion in front of them.

“Go to him!” Sidney states practically pushing you from your chair, standing up in a daze as seconds later, Mickey is right in front of you at the same time the music had finally been switched off.

“Well that was a surprise.” You state over the loud clapping, noticing the wide smile on Mickey’s face as he catches his breath his brown eyes staring, as you suddenly melt all over again just like the very first time that you had ever met.

Cheering still fills your ears as you glance to see one of the guards approaching Sid, who was too caught up in watching what was unfolding, with a look on her face that suddenly told you that she was somehow a part of this.

…why hadn’t you noticed any of this until now?!

“I did it all for you.” Mickey explains with a cheeky smile on his face as he then hurriedly elaborates “I know we still need to talk but I want you to know, that I’m all in and I can’t apologise enough.”

“I’m all in-“

You stop talking when you see Sidney is trying to be escorted out of the cafeteria, but she stands her ground with Derek taking hold of her hand, both of them grinning at you and Mickey which causes a smirk to appear on your face.

“Tom Cruise did it better!” Randy exclaims as he approaches the table, whilst some of the students are still watching with wide smiles and grins on their faces.

“I clearly wasn’t doing a fucking Top Gun routine!” Retorts Mickey with a roll of his eyes as he flips Randy the bird, shaking his head at the audacity of his classmates idiotic words.

“You’re way hotter than Tom Cruise by the way..” You inform Mickey who places one of his large hands flat on his chest as he grins wickedly.

“Firstly I clearly got inspiration from the bodyguard, hence the song and secondly, duh I’m taller than Tom Cruise so it’s obvious I’m way better.” Mickey explains with a know-it-all look that you knew very well.

“So now it’s getting personal-“

Before you can finish that sentence Mickey leans down, his lips brushing against yours as you accept the kiss, ignoring the shouts and cheers from all around the cafeteria just focusing on this moment right now instead.

Curling a hand around the front of Mickey’s dark grey tee, you pull him closer to you intensifying the kiss that could easily go on forever, but he eventually is the first to step back to take a breath.

“Wow-“

“What was all this in aid of am I missing something here?” Hallie asks loudly holding a finger to her mouth, looking as if she was gagging but clearly she was just jealous.

“Derek you should take notes!” Grins Sidney having finally got the guards off her back, who were both stood at the front of the food line queue looking pretty out of place yet again.

“I bet that I could sing a lot better than Mickey!” Derek announces with a laugh, as he proceeds to sing a line from another Whitney song you notice, seeing the look on Hallie’s face as she rolls her eyes heavenwards.

“Just leave it to the professionals.” Begins Mickey with a laugh as he explains “Because in this scenario I’m definitely the true professional!”

“Don’t go changing your major just yet!” You inform Mickey, with a cheeky look on your face that you see, he very clearly appreciates.

“You would have gotten away with it to if it weren’t for your shitty singing voice!” Randy misquotes a line from a Scooby Doo cartoon, complete with inoffensive voice that makes Derek laugh at least.

“Ruh roh.” Mickey announces with a perfect impression of the aforementioned cartoon dog.

“Did you know that it wasn’t just Scooby Doo who spoke like that, in fact Astro from the Jetsons was the first-“

“As informative as this conversation isn’t, I do need to go take my girlfriend and have a few words with her.” Mickey cuts off Randy holding out a hand in front of his face, as if to prove that this conversation was now officially over.

“Yeah, words right!” Derek laughs causing Sid to shove him with her left hand against his broad shoulder.

“If you are implying that we are about to head back to my dorm room and get laid, then you would be completely correct!” Mickey states with a wink aimed at you whilst you feel your cheeks start to heat up.

“Mickey-“

“So you need to stay away from our dorm room until this time tomorrow, at least!” Mickey explains to Derek whose laughter disappears when the news sinks in

“But I need to study-“

“Not a chance.” Mickey cuts him off and with another wink complete with smug smile, the kind that drove you wild he takes your hand and the pair of you finally walk out of the cafeteria.

Rushing out of the building together hand in hand, you let out a laugh that you weren’t aware you’d been holding, causing Mickey to stop and face you quickly.

“I missed having you around, so from now on I won’t be letting you out of my sight.” Mickey states taking a step closer to you, whilst his eyes filled with that intense gleam again.

“I’m not going anywhere.” You inform your boyfriend biting your bottom lip playfully which obviously gets his attention.

“No, you are never leaving my bed but we can totally take it slow again-“

“That is the last thing I want right now.” You tell Mickey in a firm voice which makes him cut off whatever he had been about to say.

“What part?” Mickey questions placing both of his hands behind his neck, which of course shows off his muscles that were prominent and a brief distraction for you.

“Don’t go treating me like a porcelain doll, I can take a lot of things.” You announce even surprising yourself, spotting the wide eyed look from Mickey as you state “Just ask me next time, if you want to do something different in bed, because you might actually like the answer.”

“I can definitely do that!” Mickey nods whilst you notice, the look of pure adoration highlighted on his face, which causes you to grin back at your boyfriend playfully.

“I know you can so shut up talking because we need to get back to your dorm room.” You clap causing Mickey to grab one of your hands, and spin you around on the spot, just like something out of a rom com which was very cute.

“I love you.” Mickey states without a second thought in his mind, looking down at you with that confident smile you simply adored.

“I know.” You reply with a straight face aimed up at your boyfriend.

“At last you get a Star Wars reference, but I do also mean what I said.” Mickey informs you in case this conversation was becoming a little confusing.

“Me too.” You inform Mickey with a nod as he wraps an arm around your shoulders, pulling you towards him as your face meets his chest, and you start to finally relax feeling your bad mood disappear as you hugged your boyfriend tightly.

“Get a room!” Shouts Randy appearing behind Mickey with a disgusted look on his face, interrupting the moment with his bad timing.

“Go away Randy.” Mickey states darkly whilst rewarding him with a look that spoke volumes.

“What? I helped you win your fair maiden back and what thanks do I get?” Randy questions in a stupid voice complete with idiotic face to match.

“You carried a boombox-“

“It helped you get the girl!” Exclaims Randy cutting Mickey off with a wave of his hands.

“Let’s talk about this later-“

“One last thing.” Randy begins with a laugh which makes you roll your eyes hard as he asks Mickey “Is Evil Dead 2 a sequel something you have a clear hard on for or is it a remake?”

“Oh my god, it’s clearly a remake talk to me about Army of Darkness that’s an obvious sequel!” Mickey informs Randy his voice steeped in sarcasm whilst his classmate just laughs in his face.

“You are so wrong-“

“Hey Mickey, weren’t we going to go somewhere?” You cut Randy off at the same time that you give your boyfriend a wide eyed look.

“Oh yeah!” Mickey begins with a deep chuckle as he states to Randy “I’m off to go and get laid something you wouldn’t know anything about.”

“I disagree, I know a lot about it!” Randy replies flippantly as he adds “ I’ve watched the movie Basic Instinct a million times.”

“Paused on that one scene right?” Mickey questions with another laugh causing Randy to nod in agreement, both lost in their own Sharon Stone fantasy.

“Do I need to leave you two alone-“

“Of course not babe, let’s go!” Announces Mickey with a cheeky smile, highlighting his chiseled jaw and brown eyes that looked ready to burst.

“Be safe! We don’t want any little Mickey’s walking this earth quoting James Cameron movies.” Randy shouts in despair even holding out a hand in front of him to add to the moment.

“I say we take off, and nuke the site from orbit.” Mickey quotes with a loud chuckle because he always liked to quote his favourite movies.

“It’s the only way.” Declares Randy also quoting the classic film Aliens, then with a nod he walks off in the other direction finally you were alone again.

“You two are so cute together-“

“Back to mine room now!” Cuts in Mickey tugging on your right hand, pulling you towards him as he starts to walk fast like he was on a mission.

Heading back to his dorm room at break neck speed you finally arrive, with Mickey falling onto his messy unmade bed, pulling you down on top of him with a look on his face that said it all.

“Who knew that you were such a secret romantic?” You ask with a sigh when you feel Mickey’s hands, grip tightly onto your hips whilst you straddled him, still both fully clothed but hopefully not for much longer.

“If you tell anyone I will kill you.” Mickey whispers with a smile, which makes you roll your eyes back at him with a giggle.

“There is so much I don’t know about you Mickey, but I want to learn everything and more!” You decide leaning down to kiss Mickey gently, your breath hitches when you feel his tongue brush roughly against yours.

“So you want to know the full Mickey Altieri story?” Mickey asks when you nod and bury your face in his neck, lips meeting skin as you loss yourself in the moment.

“It’s not even a good story.” Begins Mickey making you sit up to see the uneasy look on his face as he continues “ But if you ask me again soon I will definitely tell you.”

“I will hold you to that.” You tell Mickey in a teasing voice noticing the smirk appearing on his face.

“But for now I just need you to take your clothes off.” Mickey informs you with a wide smile, as he lifts up your white tee shirt revealing bare skin.

“You don’t have to ask me twice!” You reply making short work of your tee shirt, quickly removing it over your head and grinning when you spot the look on Mickey’s face.

“That’s a good start but you’ve missed a couple of items of clothing-“

“Want to help me?” You question cutting off Mickey with as innocent a look as you could muster under the circumstances.

“I thought you would never ask.” Mickey demands moving a hand to the button on your pants, deftly undoing it as he then proceeds to pull down the accompanying zip.

..tugging the pants firmly down your hips revealing black underwear, which makes Mickey whine as you work together to get the offending item of clothing off as soon as possible.

Sitting back down onto his lap makes you feel exactly how much he wanted you, his hard cock pushing against the zip of his pants, making you brush your clothed pussy over him which causes him to jerk his hips upwards.

“Fuck!” Mickey curses grabbing at your underwear, but in the end he just moves some soaked fabric to one side his fingers brushing against your pussy lips causing both of you to groan at the same time.

“I need you-“

“Don’t I know it, damn you’re so wet just let me get a little something from my pocket, and the we will be all set.” Mickey declares with a smirk, as he moves one of his hands down to his pants, pulling out a silver foil packet that he rips open with his teeth.

“Hurry up!” You cry sounding bratty even to your own ears, causing Mickey to arch an eyebrow at you making your pussy muscles clench around nothing in anticipation.

“Somebody is excited.” Mickey states with a smile as he undoes his pants causing you to move back a little, watching as he puts on the condom then slowly pulls you closer back to him.

“Ready?” Mickey asks with a smirk as you silently move your body forward, locating the tip of his cock rubbing your lips along his length, then finally taking him as your pussy is filled causing you to cry out.

“You feel so good right now, but please don’t move for like a second or ten ok?” Mickey questions gritting his teeth like he was moments away, from blowing his load which would have put a dampener on things to say the least.

“Did you really miss me this much?” You ask in a low voice moving your hips ever so slightly, to be rewarded by Mickey’s cock throbbing against your pussy walls.

“Of course baby, but if you keep that up this won’t last at all, and I know you don’t want that.” Mickey places a hand on your face then curses when you tease him again with a quick bounce on his cock.

“We can go slow-“

“Or I could in fact do this and hold you in place.” Mickey demands moving his hand down towards your neck, placing it on your throat whilst you give him a small nod, and then gasp when he grips harder keeping you very still on his throbbing cock.

“I don’t want to be anywhere else on this planet right now.” You tell Mickey meaning every word, as you close your eyes and sigh when you feel him, starting to slowly rock his hips causing you to bounce on his cock desperately.

“You won’t be, we’re skipping class and are doing this at least twice more before going to grab some food!” Mickey states with a wide smile the very one that drew you to him, and right now you couldn’t get enough.

“Sex and then pizza what more could a girl actually want!” You giggle then groan when you feel that oh-so-delicious warmth build up, hitting low on your stomach the sensation making you clench hard around his cock.

“A very important double bill of Tarantino movies is always fun?” Mickey questions with a hiss feeling that you were getting close, he was beyond ready to finish but he wanted to tip you over the edge first.

“If I say yes will you fuck me harder?” You reply with a question of your own which goes unanswered, but Mickey must’ve understood when he kicks it up a gear, and pretty soon you feel yourself tipping over and losing glorious control.

Afterwards you roll off Mickey whilst he discards the condom, laying next to him to catch the look on his face, him studying you with those intelligent dark brown eyes.

“So you really want to know my story then?” Mickey asks getting up from the bed, pulling up his pants as he heads to the door double checking the lock was on which was strange.

“Is it boring?” You question back slowly sensing the instant mood change in the room, feeling cold suddenly but then you spot the look on Mickey’s face.

“It’s colourful.” Mickey states with a shrug whilst his face, contorts in anger causing you to wrap your arms around your front self consciously.

“Are you ok?” You ask Mickey noticing how he was flexing both his hands very tightly, and his jaw was locked tight causing him to scowl.

“You tell me bitch!” Mickey states in a dark voice his whole body language transforming suddenly, which makes you feel something you hadn’t ever felt before in front of your boyfriend.

…fear?

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