#mickey altieri imagine

[leatherfaceish]

FATAL ATTRACTION HOTLINE

You fall victim to a hotline serial killer on campus, unbeknownst to you that it’s your classmate Mickey attempting to fulfill his desires.

RATING — MATURE & EXPLICIT PAIRING — mickey altieri x gender-neutral! reader GENRE(S) — drabble, ghostface! au, 1997! au, stalker! au, college! au, crime, smut, thriller WORD COUNT — 4k WARNINGS — mature content, heavy (seriously) dark humor, intense situations, manipulation, weapon used: knife, petname used: baby, humor towards suicide as a distraction, dumbification, stalker! mickey, mickey is an ass, reader dies btw SMUT WARNINGS — sexual content, dub-con (consent is given), prey/predator dynamic, biting/marking, dry & clothed handjob, unprotected intercourse, creampie, double orgasm, spit as lube, hair-pulling, dark! mickey is basically feral for you RELEASE DATE — APR 13TH 2023

AUTHOR’S NOTE — i think this is the most fucked up thing I've written to date, and yet it's kind of tame? lmao but the reader's entire thought process being like "i want to see how this ghostface FUCKS." absolutely took me out. and i wrote it. also yes i changed the title because i’m worried this site will have a field day with this one.

NAVIGATION | MASTERLIST | FEEDBACK

“Calling at such a late hour?” The robotic voice seemed to lean into the microphone, almost cackling at the time you’ve dialed the hotline written on the bathroom stall. “You must be desperate.”

"When was the last time you felt something?" Your finger tapped at the numbers on the wall, the stall seeming to fit you just right in the moment of your weakest. "Like really—feel."

"Jumping head first into the suicidal thoughts tonight, aren't we baby?" Their voice made your heart nearly skip, but the tears along the corner of your eyes were hot enough to keep you grounded.

"I'm serious." 

"So am I." It felt like a joke to them, your brow furring and teeth gritting almost seeming to be heard by them over the phone. "Did you even read the message on the wall?"

"The writing?" You questioned, eyes finding the marker written words along the wall again. "It's fading."

"It's been there for a few years now."

A junior, or a senior.

"Do I really need to tell it to you straight? Can't you read it for yourself?" You could hear the smile on their face by now, even if a box that changes their voice was held over their lips.

You wanted to speak every syllable you could make out before they could say anything else, but they were already ahead of you.

"A disclaimer from left to right: A sexual experience that ends in demise. One you'll never forget, and no one else will either!"

You sat quietly, reading along with them until you realized just what you had called into. From first glance, the number seemed to be from someone who had once been in your position. Sitting in the abandoned dorm's bathroom stall crying your eyes out, up to your neck in the negatives of life and school, and so miserable that you just wanted one person to speak to that understands.

"I didn't read that part." You spoke just above a whisper.

"Let me guess: You thought this was just a suicide hotline? Someone to listen to your problems and give you advice or the answers you're looking for, maybe even some hope?" They couldn't hide the laughter in their voice, almost cherishing your innocence and stupidity. "Someone who would make you leave the call feeling better about things?"

"Is that not what you do?"

You could hear them losing their patience, the huff before they spoke seeming to make your head rush. "Read the fine print again."

Sexual. This hotline was for sex. But why was suicide mentioned?

"Are you a guy?" The question to you seemed so small and quick, but they weren't playing short.

"Is that your preference? Men?"

"Why do you ask that?"

"The sexual part, baby." Their voice didn't grow faint for a second, almost as if they held the phone even closer to the voice box to make things more apparent. "It's the 90's, you could be into anyone these days."

"So, you are a man." A conclusion, and his laughter on the other end.

"I can only provide dick. Such a shame, isn't it?" You almost couldn't help the cackle that left you, his interest peaking.

"Why were you crying?" Finally, he seemed sincere.

"Bad day."

"One of many in this school."

"You're a student?"

But his shortness made itself up in other bits—like now, when he ignores your dig into his personal life.

"Do you understand who you've called?" He seemed to teeter on his sanity, voice raising a volume higher than before to make his point. "What I am going to need from you now?"

"Don't hotlines have consensual guidelines?"

"I'm no normal hotline." His teeth sounded gritted, his patience leaving him fully. "You dialed the number." His voice returned soft, his sing-songy tone almost mocking. "You even pressed the dial button. And here you are, clueless."

"C-Clueless? How does this even work? You feed some sick person a bunch of nonsense until they do what you ask?"

"Have I asked you to do anything for me?"

You almost had to rethink the entire conversation, but he had never truly pried so much. Even now, minutes into the conversation, you could hang up and move on. Maybe even call a real hotline.

"Let me guess, you're considering hanging up?

"What if I do?"

"That would only piss me off, baby. Think harder. How can I be so sure of this working?"

Your mind was blank, only listening to his robotic voice in your ears like a guide.

"I don't understand."

"Sex for a faked suicide." He cackled, speaking slowly. "That's who you called. You set yourself up, all because you want to die so badly. Wouldn't you prefer to go out shaking and orgasming than cold and lifeless?"

"How do you know what I want?"

"Sitting in that lonesome bathroom crying all night isn't going to solve any of your problems. But talking to me, letting me take control of your life and your fate could." He spoke rapidly, like gun-fire—as if he had been waiting a long time to say these things to someone who was dumb enough to call. "Stall three from the door, right?"

The conversation turned predatory, his voice growing darker and shorter as he spoke on.

"Look at that—" He said the three words just above a whisper, your shaking body listening like the world was in slow motion. "I can even see your shoes beneath the door."

It was a dream, you felt like you weren't conscious as you noticed the swaying black dress cut roughly at the end. One that of the grim reaper, or better known to your town as the outfit of the Ghostface killer.

"P-Please…"

"Please what?" You could hear his grin, could feel his energy through the door and through the mask he wore like it was a fire. "Tell me what you want, baby."

"I-I can't…"

"Want me to make it go away?" His voice returned to the annoyed tone it sometimes held, a tilt of the Ghostface mask letting you see the white face through the crack of the door towards side of the lock.

"How?" Your voice was a whisper, but in such an empty space, the bathroom seemed to echo the word off every wall.

"Tell me you want me." His voice was stern. "Tell me you want me to do it."

"I-I want you to—" Your voice shook. "d-do what?"

"To fuck you. And then to let you go."

Every racing thought has brought you here. Every mention of wanting to end your life, negative thoughts in your mind like they lived there—it all carried you to this one, unhinged solution.

"And if I say no?"

It was the loudest sound in so long, the clash of the pager against the crack of the door where you could once see his mask peeking through. Even with a squint of your eyes, you knew the phone number across the screen was your cell number.

"I know who you are." Another smile behind his mask, a hefty breath through the voice box, and the killer seemed to be in heaven. "I'll kill you either way. So, why not agree to the fun part?"

The tears falling down your face had grown hotter as you shook in fear, splashing onto the tiled floor of the old bathroom in tandem with a dripping faucet. As everything grew silent, and your mind fell even quieter—you spoke.

"I want you to do it."

"Where do you want it done?" That rough tone again, he wanted quick answers.

"I-In my dorm."

"Live alone, huh?"

He pulled the pager back, slipping it into his pocket and pressing his hand against the lock of the door to feel the coin-slot ridge. All it needed was a turn, and then you were all his.

"How do you like to be fucked?" This was clearly his favorite question, a light tone of excitement in his voice as the dark eyes of the mask peered through the crack of the door once more.

"D-Deep. It's better that way." You spoke in cut words, still shaking as you heard his breathing stutter from what you said. "I like to feel e-everything."

"Everything?" He repeated, only the question was rhetoric. "I'll make you feel everything."

And there it was again, that rise in his voice that told you he was up to something. With so little words being spoken, you could only make out his movements—and without skipping a beat, you knew just what he was doing.

A clean knife prodded into the line of the lock outside of the door. A safety feature added to help those outside get in when necessary, even if it was against the safety of the one inside. You could hear the sharp object click in, turning until you saw the lock slip from inside the wall back into the door. And just as the thin door squealed open, you found yourself face to face with death.

"This—" The robotic voice was somehow louder with the door open, a short step into the single stall making you shake more from his presence. "isn't your dorm room, is it?"

Your head shook rapidly, going along with what he said in order to not cause any harm to yourself. You wanted to scream, every fiber of your being truly wanted to—but you knew the knife in his hand would slice your throat with ease if you did.

With every sexual experience comes the part where your stomach is twisting in anticipation, such as now.

"Then let's go there, shall we?" He spoke kindly, a façade making your body ache with the idea that he's not all that bad, as he offered you his gloved hand.

The fabric of his glove was thick, enough to keep blood or any liquids from soaking in and staining. Your hand cupped his palm, his fingers taking hold of yours with a tight grip. Just as it crossed your mind again, that he's not so bad, your neck was met with the sharp metal blade.

"This is how this goes. We walk out, hand-in-hand—all romantic like—and we make a b-line for your dorm room. Any attempt to run or get help, and you die on the spot."

"O-Okay…" The knife trailed the skin of your throat, begging to press into your flesh and retrieve some reaction from you that's pure pain. But the man seemed to linger his touch lower, his free hand falling upon your waist like it had been there before.

He was stern, uncaring of your tears being wiped away by your own touch, and most certainly rushed as he pulled you forward at a fast pace. "Good."

You had almost forgotten the journey you normally made out into the abandoned dorm. Lined off with caution tape, and only one door that allowed you in and out without being seen—the eeriness of the building being so quiet and stuck in time was just as scary as the killer walking you along its halls.

"Take it easy." The voice box over his mouth seemed to click with his words, sounding faulty as he pressed you forward and out the door of the old building. "This won't take long."

There were thumps and bumps all across the ground as you walked by housing holding sorority parties. The man's grip tightened every time you walked by someone. Anyone getting particularly close made you cling to him in a loving way. Anything to make you appear normal. Anything to keep you alive right now.

"Walk slower." The louder music was coming from your own dorm, a party that had started long before you made a move to the abandoned dorm still going strong. "Costume party. What idiots."

He was right, a sea of costumes immediately melting the two of you into the party like you had been there the whole time. From pulls on your waist, to jolts of your body forward to rush you into corners, you had finally gotten through the most packed floors and into your dorm room.

The cool air made your skin rush with goosebumps, a moment in time seeming to stop everything as you spun to face the masked man. He was skilled, clicking your door shut and locking it—all with the knife he once held to your throat returning to his hand.

You could hear his voice box click, hear the thumping of your own heart in your ears almost louder than his voice.

"This is where you want to die?" He asked, pointing the shiny knife at your small bed in the middle of the room. "Right here? On your own blankets?"

You bit at your tongue, eyes growing glossy as he took a step towards you every time he spoke. It wasn't until he was right in front of you, the faintest hint of his cologne moving into your nose, that you could even comprehend what was happening.

Tears seemed to pour slower, but your body needed more air. You seemed to stifle, sniffling in deep breaths and trying to swallow it all down into your lungs as fast as you could.

One sniff, and you felt nothing. Another, and you smelled something familiar. One more deep breath, and that hard-to-miss smell of someone you know finally broke through.

The white mask was tight on his head, held in place as he tilted his head slightly in curiosity. Your sniffling had stopped, glossy eyes matching with what would be his glowing brown irises within the eyes of the mask.

"M-Mickey?"

He didn't move. He didn't have to. It was simply meant to be—that you found out.

"Now you really can't live after this, baby."

He spoke with such confidence, his knifeless hand raising the Ghostface mask up and off his head until his chiseled face was in your view. His wide teeth, fang-like canine in your sight, and it was truly your fellow student Mickey Altieri.

You took in his clean appearance, the sweat dripping down his temples and jawline from the thick mask he had worn for nearly an hour now. His outfit was just the same as the costume shown on the news for the last few years—banned, then unbanned, and now favored by many.

"I finally got you right where I want you." The man had a squeak to his voice when he was excited, a Cheshire grin on his face. It all made sense now, how you knew his emotions even without being able to see him before.

You wanted to breathe, suck in his scent and reassure yourself that he would never do something like this. The lighthearted film major with an affliction for gore and horror—you should have known he was a red flag deep down.

But his lips attached to your own, moved to taste you with his tongue and suck the oxygen from your lungs like he could steal your soul that way. His lips tasted metallic from the voice box that had been pressed against his mouth most of the night. He swayed you side to side until his arms were wrapped securely around your waist and there was no way you could leave him.

And when the breath was finally returned to you, you could truly see the craziness in his bright irises and blown pupils.

"Tell me you want me." His lips pecked at yours between his sentences. "Tell me you want me to fuck you. Just like before!"

His pink tongue poked out between his lips to press into your skin, lapping at the dried and salty tears along your cheeks all the way down to your collarbones. There, you felt his teeth. Pearly whites leaving a small bruise on your neck as he awaited your magic words.

This was it. There was nothing you could think of past this. And there was no running far enough away from him.

"M-Mickey." He halted at his name being said slowly and softly, his eyes turning warm as they peered up at you from below your chin. His gentle smile, the one that made your heart skip a few times before you knew he was capable of this, it still gave you butterflies. "I want you to be the one."

"Oh—" His body language was confused, but his eyes were wild. Looking between your gaze and the mark he left on you, you could see him hesitate from reaching to grab his knife and cut you right there. "Oh—fuck, I thought I'd never here you say those words."

His hands were shaking, leaving the thin fabric of his costume where he rubbed his sides to grab hold of you again. His fingers were tight against your clothing, pulling at whatever he could get off of you right then and there.

It was his sense of giddiness that almost made you forget he planned to kill you afterwards. How his tongue stuck between his aligned teeth every time he saw more skin. The animalistic sounds he made as he licked and kissed at you until his weight pressed you into the mattress.

"You taste just how I imagined." The man cooed, losing all of the cool and collective he once had with his voice box.

His hand slipped down, the knife covered by his costume now poking into your side as he felt at the wetness growing between your legs. His coated fingertip raised towards his mouth, your juices making his eyes clenched shut in euphoria as he moaned.

You didn't want to admit that his fingers dipping back down against you felt good, or that how he appeared now—so out of his mind from your taste and your unclothed body beneath him alone—made your head spin. The man had been tailing you all along, stalking you until he knew what headspace you were in, that you would soon call his hotline and make yourself his victim.

It was meant to be creepy, but as his hand took your wrist and pressed your cupped hand against his hard length—you couldn't regain the sense to feel scared.

"Look at what you do to me." His head hung, eyes staring at you darkly as he used his fingers to press your hand into him until he was grinding against your touch. You could feel the stain of precum spurting through the fabric of both his underwear and the costume, sucking in a deep breath when you felt him twitch when you rubbed him on your own accord.

The man was going insane—even if he was already previously. 

"I want you." He groaned, his weakened neck laying his head onto your shoulder as you kept your rhythm against his clothed cock. "I want to feel your insides."

"Then why don't you?" He hissed at your words, his hips thrusting into your hold until he was rutting against you. If he didn't slow down now, he wouldn't fuck you like you want him to. "Mickey."

His name made his hips stutter and stop, eyes finding yours again. It was almost like he forgot why he was here, so drunk on you that he just wanted to fill you up. You could see him waver, bite down on his tongue, and then be sent into overdrive.

Mickey moved quickly, pulling at your hips until your body was facing flat against the mattress and your head was buried against your pillow. You could hear his costume being ripped in certain places, feel his body heat closing in on your backside—but what was most appalling was the feeling of his fingers pulling your underwear down your legs until they hung at your ankles.

It was almost rewarding, feeling his tip at your wet entrance. The saliva from his mouth had drooled enough onto his fingers when he was collecting your wetness to add to it all, and every inch of him that slipped into you made a squelching sound.

"Fuuuck—fuck, fuck, fuck!" His words got louder and louder, his cock being held by your walls trying so hard not to fill you with his cum just from one pump in. Mickey was at a loss, your body heating up just right until your warmth made him feel alive.

"This is what I wanted." His motion to pull out was cut off by his tiny rut back into you, just a small feeling of needing to fuck you fast dissipating when he remembered you like it rough. His head fell into your neck when he slammed into you harshly, feeling you clench around him like never before. "This is all I wanted…"

"M-Mickey." You cried with his words, short but sweet to him as he filled you up only to pull out and thrust back in with such vigor that your entire bed was shaking. "Do what you want to me, Mickey."

His hair was a mess, the discarded Ghostface mask being shaken off the side of the bed from his hard thrusts and landing on the floor going unnoticed by the two of you. So lost in each other, everything seemed to slip away.

If only he had you sooner.

The hand at your waist lifted, the weight of his body holding you down into the mattress and giving him enough space to fuck you deep and fast. You could hardly form words, and he couldn't make any other sounds except moans.

It wasn't until his free hand pulled at your hair, enough to raise your head to let you speak, that you remembered the entire premise of this transaction.

"Do you like me now?!" He asked with a boiling anger in his voice but a rumbling orgasm approaching. "All those times you turned me down. And you could have had this."

"I-Is this how you do it?" You spoke through broken cries and gritted teeth. "You wait for some poor girl to call your hotline, whaling into the phone about wanting to die. All so you could talk her into letting you fuck her first before you kill her?"

"The perfect way to die." He groaned, pressing himself deeper into your walls as they clenched around him sporadically in the race towards your orgasm.

You could feel his hot seed start to fill you, his thrusts running messy just as your body shook and went firm. Orgasms taking over both of you at the same time, you wanted nothing more now than to find a way out of this.

"Mickey?" His hand was still in your hair, but your head had fallen back onto the pillow. "I-I just—"

Your skull felt his strength, head lifted back up from the cool pillow with the sharp knife on your throat once more. You could feel drips of blood falling down your neck and staining the pillow.

"Just want to stay alive?" Mickey had returned to his unhinged stature, almost as if it had never left him for a second. "Baby, baby, baby." He cooed, his thumb pressing into the side of your cheek with his fist that held the knife. "I got my end of the deal…"

"Please—"

"You've gotta get yours." The knife was piercing, the blade having been recently sharpened finely until it could cut through almost anything. As you felt more blood leaving your neck, you could hear his soft voice in your ears—almost as if he were God himself speaking to you during your final breath.

"And just so you know—" There it was, one last time, that huge Cheshire grin in your peripheral. "You were my first."

© leatherfaceish — all rights reserved. do not plagiarize, repost, or translate any of my works without my permission. do not post my content on other sites, especially claiming them as your own! reblogs and feedback are seriously appreciated <3

[floralcyanide]

˚₊✩‧₊◜kinktober 2023! ―

― day five ⛧ praise kink*

Ghostface!Mickey Altieri x F!Reader

*please read the warnings before reading. you are responsible for your triggers and media consumption.

After breaking up with Mickey for his dark side, he kidnaps you and uses one of his favorite things about you against you.

warnings: smut, rape/non-con, knife play, blood, blood play, torture, kidnapping, strangulation, choking, oral sex (m receiving), vomiting, gagging, cum eating

word count: 1075

author's note: please read the warnings. please read the warnings. please read the warnings! this fic contains non-consent or rape. this is the first time I've ever written something like this so bear with me lol I hope everyone enjoys this if you're into non-con/dub-con. if this isn't for you or if it will trigger you, I beg you to not read. this one is for all my disturbed mickey bitches ily

kinktober masterpost | kinktober taglist form | main masterlist | main taglist form

this fic has been cross posted to ao3.

ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴄᴏᴘʏ, ʀᴇᴘʀᴏᴅᴜᴄᴇ, ᴏʀ ᴄʟᴀɪᴍ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋ ᴀs ʏᴏᴜʀs ᴏɴ ᴛᴜᴍʙʟʀ, ᴀᴏ3, ᴡᴀᴛᴛᴘᴀᴅ, ᴏʀ ᴀɴʏ ᴡᴇʙsɪᴛᴇ. ʏᴏᴜ ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴘᴇʀᴍɪssɪᴏɴ ᴛᴏ ᴜsᴇ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋs ɪɴ ᴀɪ ɢᴇɴᴇʀᴀᴛᴏʀs ᴏʀ ᴀɴʏᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴛᴏ ᴅᴏ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴀʀᴛɪғɪᴄɪᴀʟ ɪɴᴛᴇʟʟɪɢᴇɴᴄᴇ. ʏᴏᴜ ᴍᴀʏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴜsᴇ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋs ᴛᴏ sᴇʟʟ ғᴏʀ ᴀs ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴏᴡɴ ᴄʀᴇᴀᴛɪᴏɴ.

It was your favorite thing in the world to make your boyfriend Mickey proud. And it soon became engraved into him, and he thrived on that feeling of pride. Whether it was making good grades on your exams and papers or just making him smile at you for something you did, his chest would swell, and he’d beam at you with that money-making grin of his. You’d do anything to make Mickey happy like that, and he’d do anything for you to make him that way, even if you had to be tortured. That sounds a little far, of course, but you couldn't stand to be around him ever since you found out what Mickey had been doing behind your back. Murder wasn’t a green flag for you. And now that you didn’t want to be with him, it would take a little roughness to get you to bend to his will- anything to chase that feeling.

Your eyes glare into Mickey’s, blood filling your eyesight from the vessels in your eyes bursting from him choking you for so long and so violently. He had almost killed you but decided against it. Now, your ears are ringing, and your eyes burn from the foreign substance clouding your vision. The feeling of dread, horror, and betrayal filling your veins almost makes you wish you had already died. Mickey glares back with a sick smile as he wields a knife in his hands. He’s been waiting for this- the moment to fully have you. He was too worried about hurting you before during sex with his risky ideas, but now that none of that mattered, you were at his mercy. You’re tied to a chair in a basement somewhere, the lights off mostly, leaving the two of you in the dim lighting. You don’t remember how you even got here, so you figure Mickey must’ve done something to you to knock you out and bring you here. 

“Are you going to be a good girl for me now?” Mickey taunts, pressing the tip of the knife into the apex of your neck, slowly dragging it up to your chin and lifting it with the blade.

You don’t let up on your glare, clenching your jaw in resistance. Mickey sneers, leaving a small cut on the underside of your chin as a threat. You yelp at the sharp sensation of a small area of skin splitting open, blood dribbling down your throat and onto your lap. Why not just slit your throat already? Mickey unzips his jeans, pulling out his cock from his underwear. He grabs your chin, blood smearing on his hand.

“Obey me, and maybe I’ll let you live,” Mickey smirks, roughly letting go of your face, “If not, well, we’ll see if you dare.”

Mickey starts jerking himself off with his bloody hand, shoving his hips into your face as he grips your hair harshly. He brings your head forward so your lips press against his length involuntarily. Mickey then prods your mouth open with his tip before you can bare your jaw down to deny entrance. The taste of his salty precum mixed with the stark metallicity of blood hits your tongue as you stop resisting and take Mickey into your mouth. You might as well get this over with so you can go home, right? Mickey doesn’t give you a chance to even bob your head yourself as he guides your face along his length harshly, causing you to gag around him. You nearly vomit from the ferocity of Mickey’s thrusts and shoving. But you try your best to breathe through your nose as he fucks your mouth without signs of stopping any time soon. You struggle against your restraints and struggle to sit in the chair comfortably as a whole, as Mickey is moving so fast that the chair scrapes against the floor. His hips snap into your face almost violently, tears freely streaming down your face in a mixture of crying and tears from choking. 

“You’re doing so well, baby girl. So good for me.”

The praise sends a weird feeling to the pit of your stomach. The familiar butterflies of your feelings for Mickey, mixed with the suffering, make you feel sick.

Mickey now has both hands in your hair, forcefully moving your entire head back and forth as fast as feasible. The sound of you gagging and retching only makes Mickey harder on your tongue. You feel numb, but sit there and take it the best you can. Suddenly, your stomach turns when Mickey hits a certain angle at the back of your throat, causing your insides to bubble up your chest and out of your mouth around Mickey. But he doesn’t stop. In fact, he keeps going and laughs at you making a mess of yourself. Your face burns in shame and agony, your sobs making it hard for Mickey to properly fuck your mouth.

“Stop crying,” Mickey rolls his eyes, “It’s hot, but you’re making this harder for the both of us. Be a doll and look pretty.”

You try to control your breathing as Mickey groans, twitching inside your velvety mouth. You hollow your cheeks, hoping to urge his orgasm quicker so this situation can end. 

“Fuck yes, suck me off like you always do. You’re so good at it,” Mickey coos, “Maybe I’ll make you cum as a reward.”

You almost want to physically recoil at the thought of him touching you ever again, but refrain. 

Mickey moans as his length slides down the back of your throat just right, sending him over the edge. Hot cum spurts in your mouth and down your throat, and you gag at the sensation. Mickey pulls out and quickly clamps your mouth shut.

“Swallow,” he demands, “Be a good cum slut and swallow it, I know you can.”

Mickey strokes your chin wound with his thumb as you reluctantly swallow the mixture of his load, your sickness, and spit mixed with your blood that didn’t fall out of your mouth earlier from the oral. Your jaw is almost locked and in pain, and your throat is searing. Your nose burns from breathing so hard through it, and your wrists and ankles are sore from moving around so much. You desperately wanted to get out of here. But with the way Mickey looks at you with that knife in his back pocket, you’re not so sure you will be.

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[imyourbratzdoll]

hi my lovely! i come bearing an idea for mr. mickey altieri 🫣 so you know the scene of the delta lambda mixer and mickey arrives late because he had just murdered cici minutes prior? maybe reader can be questioning him about his whereabouts and what took him so long to get there.. so he just pulls her into the sorority house somewhere and distracts her with a quickie!

hey baby! I'm sorry this took so long and how short it is. I hope you like it!

summary - mickey fucks you instead of answering your questions.

warning - smut, swearing, creampie, slut, semi-public sex.

18+ only please, the gif I use isn't mine, divider by @newlips

“Mickey?” You walk toward him with your brows furrowed. “What took you so long to get here?” You pout, staring up at him with a questioning look. “Where have you been? I’ve been waiting for you.” You slide your hand into his, waiting with your lip jutted out. 

Mickey looks down at you with furrowed brows, not really expecting a lot of questions waiting for him at the party, but he should’ve known how you were. He looks around before grabbing you, dragging you upstairs and into one of the bedrooms. “Don’t worry about it, baby. I’m here now.” His lips find your neck, kissing and sucking as he pushes you onto the bed. “I bet you missed me, huh?” You nod, pouting, when he stops kissing you. “Aww, does my poor baby want some more kisses?” You nod, humming in pleasure when his lips connect to yours, causing your cunt to dampen. The feeling of his bulge pressing against you causes you to see stars.  Mickey’s hand slid between your legs, pulling his hardened cock out and pushing your skirt up. “Be a good girl for me, baby, and spread your legs wider.”

You spread your legs, whimpering when Mickey strokes your puffy clit before pulling your knickers to the side and sliding through your tight walls. Your moan pierces through the room and downstairs, letting everyone know exactly what the two of you are doing. He grunts, pinning you down to the bed before he pounds into you hard and fast, watching you become dumb under his strokes. “That’s right, baby girl.” He groans, hand wrapping around your throat and softly squeezing. “Doing so good for me, wrapped so nicely around my cock.” Your walls spasm around his throbbing member, squeezing the life out of him. “You feel so good.” He slams into you hard, fucking into you until you see stars.

You bite into him, wrapping your arms and legs around him tightly, and your hips move with his thrusts. Nails dig into his flesh, whining and babbling, feeling your mind become fuzzy. “M–Mickey, feels….” Your eyes roll to the back of your head as he hits your sweet spot, your mouth hangs open and your back arches. 

“Feels what, baby girl? Hmm? Are you too dumb to finish what you were trying to say?” You nod, not even hearing what he’s saying, as your juices squirt out of you and cover him. Mickey groans. “Fucking hell, you’re such a fucking slut.” He buries himself deep inside you, pounding until his cum spurts out of his tip. “Jesus, baby girl. You always feel so good for me, like my good little girl.”

“Mmhm, I’s sleepy.” You snuggle into him once he pulls out, clutching him tightly.

thank you for reading!

feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated.

[mickeyswhore]

You're Mine Now

A/N: Let me know if I should make a part 2, guys. 🥰

Summary: After Mickey was shot, he left the college and became a hitman. His newest target? You. But he didn't want to kill you, so he decided to take you and make you his.

Mickey Altieri x Reader

Warnings: smut, dark, Mickey's POV, unsavory language, Stockholm syndrome, a dash of daddy kink, talks about murder

(this pic gave the inspo, actually)

Mickey had the foresight to escape after Mrs. Loomis shot him, he wanted to kill the bitch but she was finished off so he was fine. He got all of the money he had access from the bank account before it was closed by the police, so he was able to get by for a couple of years. He went back to the forums where he met Mrs Loomis so he started killing people for hire, it was quickly paying off quickly, he was able to be completely underground and it was great, getting paid for doing what you love.

It has been years now, Mickey was in a routine now. His fees were astronomical because he was the best of what he did, and he made no excuses about it, his only rule was no children, even murderous psychopaths had a line, and that was Mickey’s. Usually his customers were powerful men not wanting to deal with prenups, competitors in their fields, or simply people that pissed them off and that allowed him to walk around the higher circles and Mickey loves the finer things in life, so is a win win situation.

Mickey now was about to meet with a potential client, now he only accepts new customers through referrals, so it doesn’t blow back on him. Only now with all of his security measures in place, Mickey realises in how much danger he was by just accepting random anonymous messages, young and dumb as they say. The building was in a high end hotel, Mickey knew the owner so he knows that every recording of him is prompted deleted. He was wearing his signature full black tailored suit, Mickey was a silver fox now, he was glad that between balding and going gray, it was the latter for him.

“Mr. Wadsworth, how do you do?” The man was probably the same age as Mickey but he was in a disgusting shape, balding and a huge gut, it disgusted Mickey to no end. He took great pride in his appearance, he never understood why other people didn't.

“Mr…I didn't catch your name?” His voice was annoying, Mickey thought, definitely won’t be a regular client.

“That is because I didn't give it to you, shall we?” Mickey motioned for him to sit, which Mr. Wadsworth did. “So, what is the sensitive matter that would like me to handle?” Mickey was always adamant about using vague language, nothing that would look bad on a court reading, was his motto.

“I want a permit for drilling oil but the land is protected by law, there is one senator that is blocking it, I simply need him to have a family emergency, him not being around wouldn’t be good for business.” Mickey laughed, at least he had the foresight to know that getting rid of the only senator blocking his progress would be idiotic, you’d be surprised how many people able to afford a hitman are dumb to target the most obvious person.

“Great, who would be causing the family emergency?” The man passed Mickey the folder, he didn't look at it, Mickey was always adamant about doing his own research.

“It needs to be done before next month.” Mickey nodded and got up from his seat, this man was incredibly dull so he couldn’t wait to leave.

“I know my schedule, transfer half of the money and you’ll hear from me after is done.” They shook hands and Mickey went to his hotel room, it was where he preferred to work. Mickey had a house with way too many acres but he was barely there, if he was being honest it wasn’t conductive to business and it was lonely. Mickey always had one night stands, he hated (loved) to brag but getting women was not an issue for him at all, but an actual relationship? Not likely.

He opened the folder and he saw a photo of the target, the daughter of the senator, you. Seeing your photo made Mickey stop, what a fucking waste, he thought. You were fucking hot, he thought about maybe seducing you and then kill you but would that be enough? Mickey started reading about you, it was comical how much younger you were from Mickey, he was old enough to be his daughter, in his fucked up mind Mickey being so much older than you got him excited.

You were in university, no boyfriend made Mickey smile, from the files it seems as if you were a bit of a loner. He was going to start stalking you and to get close to you, and see how is the best way to do his job. Mickey finished reading your files and went to bed, he was painfully hard now, he simply decided to ignore it and focus on his task, you.

Mickey thought it was way too early, but apparently you woke up that early to go to the library, then your favourite local coffee shop. He got to the library before you, and then you entered the store, it was summer so you were wearing a blue summer dress, Mickey thought you looked delicious. You said hi to the worker and was getting closer to where he was, which was the classics. Mickey was now in character, pretending to ponder on which book to choose, he sighed and that got your attention.

“Hey, sorry to bother you but do you need help?” You tapped him on the shoulder and when Mickey turned to you he wanted to laugh at your reaction, your mouth was open it was clear as day that you found him attractive, that was always made the job much easier.

“It is that obvious that I need help?” Mickey let out a fake embarrassed laugh, it was easy to act like a dork sometimes, Mickey thought.

“Well, no. But you are holding one of my favourites and I need to know why you haven’t chosen it yet.” You were behaving like a school girl with a crush, the giggling, the hand on your face to hide the embarrassment, Mickey thought it was extremely cute.

“It’s for my niece, she just started university and I want to give her a nice gift. Do you think that should I just bite the bullet and buy both?” He gave you his million dollar smile and he could see you melting, you were adorable.

“If you can, I would. Especially if she’s a book worm like me.” You laughed again, and Mickey could see that you couldn’t hold eye contact him and he loved it.

“I can’t believe that you are a book worm, how can such a beautiful woman like you be buried in books? I guess that you have the beauty and the brains, then?” You touched Mickey’s arm while laughing, he got closer to you and you did too.

“You are too kind, sir.” Mickey took a deep breath, you calling him sir being so close to him was making him incredibly hard.

“I’m Mickey, by the way.” He extended his hand for you to shake it and you introduced yourself. Your whole demeanor, voice and body was intoxicating for Mickey, he wanted you, not just for one night, he wanted you to be his forever. “I know this is probably too much too soon but…would you like to get a cup of coffee with me?” He looked at you with a smirk, you looked so flustered and Mickey loved every second of it.

“Yes, there’s a coffee shop that I love.” You and Mickey went to the counter and he paid for both books, he could tell that you were admiring him, his suit, the way Mickey carried himself, he could tell that you enjoyed everything about him.

“Shall we? My car is parked right out front.” Mickey’s hand went on your lower back, he could tell that you enjoyed the contact, getting to the door he made sure to open the door for you. He did the same with his car door, his car was spacious and he could tell that you liked it. “You’re gonna have to guide me, because I moved here a couple months back and I still don’t know my way around it.” The two of you smiled and you were more than happy to give him directions to the coffee shop.

Getting there Mickey could tell that people were staring at him, it was a regular occurrence but he could tell that it was a bit weird for you, so he made sure to be touching you at all times, Mickey pulled the chair out for you and acted like the perfect gentleman for you, he was proud on that fact.

“So, what do you do for a living Mickey?” He could tell that you were nervous, afraid of saying the wrong thing and mess it up but that wouldn’t happen with Mickey to smooth out any situation.

“Consulting, they pay an obscene amount of money to put out their fires.” It was true, his killing rates were astronomical, and he did what he loved. “What about you, sweetheart?” You giggled like a schoolgirl and tried to cover it up with a cough, Mickey tought it was the sweetest thing ever.

“I’m in university at the moment, but I still have no idea what I’m going to do…maybe you can teach me more about consulting?” Mickey could see the attempt of trying to get his number and he smiled.

“I’d be more than happy to teach you anything you want, sweetheart.” Mickey put his hand on yours and you looked at it and he saw how your breathing changed, oh you were horny, Mickey thought to himself.

“I’d like that.” You said in a breathy voice and Mickey knew you were a goner.

-----------------------------------------------------

After your first date, Mickey made sure to take your contact details and he was now a staple in your life. He was the first person you called when you had anything going on in your life, and it has only been a week. Mickey on the other hand was utterly obsessed with you, and he already that he wasn’t going to kill you and that you were going to be with him for the rest of your life. He already had everything ready, and he made sure to destroy the life of the man that wanted you dead and if you were with him, no one would try to kill you because of your father ever again.

Mickey went to the restaurant to meet you, today was the day that he was going to make you his fully. His house was already set for you to be there, no work for a while to pay full attention to you, Mickey never felt this way before, and he wasn’t going to give up on you, he owned you, it was only a matter of time for you to find out.

“How are you, sweetheart?” You went to Mickey and kissed him, and he took advantage of that and put the drug on your drink.

“I’m great, I can’t wait for you to meet my parents.” Mickey smiled, another reason why he wanted to take you away, not having to meet your parents.

“Me too, sweetheart.” The two of you started talking about other things, and you started getting a bit sleepy. “Are you okay, baby?” Mickey looked so concerned, it almost looked real.

“Yeah, yeah…just a bit tired.” You yawned and Mickey asked for the check, the drug was going to knock you out in a few minutes.

“Let’s get you home, sweetheart.” He paid with cash, as always and guided you to his car. As soon as you got there, sleep took over you.

Mickey started driving, he made the point of not initiating any intimacy with you, he wanted you fully comfortable with him. He looked at your exposed legs and Mickey caressed it, your skin was so smooth, he felt like a goddamn teenager, getting hard just by feeling your leg. He focused on the road, otherwise he would start fucking you before you woke up.

-------------------------------------

When Mickey arrived with you still asleep it was evening, he took you out of the car and carried you to his house. House was an understatement, it was a mansion but Mickey hated to brag. He had a bedroom ready for you, it didn't open from the inside, he knew that you were going to freak out for a couple of days and he needed to break you in.

He decorated the bedroom in a way that he knew you would enjoy, he put you on the bed and left. Watching you on the camera, Mickey grabbed a beer and waited for you to wake up. He knew that he could be quite obsessive but there was something about you because Mickey never went through so much trouble just for some pussy.

Hours passed and you started to wake up, Mickey could see and he was excited about it. He could tell that you were starting to freak out.

“Hello?” Your voice was cracking, and Mickey couldn’t help but groan. He loved hearing you so helpless. “Is there anyone out there?” He could see that you were about to cry, Mickey knew he was fucked in the head, he was since a child but hearing you cry? Fuck, that making him incredibly hard. “Is my boyfriend alright?” Mickey groaned, you were worried about him? Fuck, he started palming himself through his trousers. “Please, don’t hurt him.” Tears were running down your cheeks and Mickey got his cock out and he started stroking it, while he could hear you cry, his strokes got quicker. “Please.” Mickey groaned, and his strokes got quicker. “Please, I’ll do anything.” He started massaging his balls and with the way you were begging? Mickey was going to cum anytime now. “Please.” Mickey came, hard. He got all of his trousers dirty, but it didn't matter.

Mickey didn't talk to you, he only gave you food. It has been days, you were going insane and every time you cried, he was jerking off. He decided to taunt you and got something he hasn’t used in years, the Ghostface voice modulator.

“Good morning, bunny.” The voice boomed across the bedroom and you were scared.

“Who are you?” You sounded almost happy to have a human interaction and Mickey could see how much you craved for it. “Are you going to kill me?” Tears started running down your face, you were so scared. “Where is Mickey?” Seeing how much you were worried about him, Mickey was enjoying every second of it.

“I could never kill you, if you must know someone wanted to kill you, I simply got in the way. This is for your protection.” You started yelling and crying so Mickey stopped talking, and you fell asleep after doing it for hours.

------------------------------------

It has been a whole month, Mickey could see it was getting to you, your mental state was very fragile and he knew this. So now it was time to show himself to you, next part of the plan. Mickey was sure Stockholm Syndrome would make you so malleable, perfect to be his perfect little doll. You were asleep when Mickey opened the door, he watched you for a few minutes, you looked so peaceful.

“Sweetheart, wake up.” He shook you, and you woke up. As soon as you saw Mickey, you started kissing him. 

“Oh my God, are you okay? Mickey, I thought they killed you.” Mickey had a couple of fake bruises on his face, but he thought of something different now.

“How could they kill me when it’s my house, bunny?” He used the voice modulator and you just looked at him, but it was curious, you didn't stop touching Mickey.

“It was you?” You whispered, but your hands were still on Mickey and he was smirking at you.

“Of course, I couldn’t let them kill you, bunny.” Mickey started touching your face and you leaned into his touch.

“You love me?” You whispered, he could see the wheels turning in your head.

“Of course, there’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you.” After those words were uttered, you jumped on Mickey.

You started removing his shirt, you were wearing a silk nightgown and nothing underneath. Mickey started kissing you, it was all teeth and passion, he removed your nightgown and you removed his cock from his trousers. 

“I need this, daddy.” You stradled him and aligned his cock at your entrance, Mickey couldn’t believe any of this. It was as if you were possessed.

Mickey put your nipple in his mouth, you were bouncing on his cock, he could feel how wet you were. 

“Keep bouncing on my cock, bunny.” The two of you were on the floor, there was no time to get into bed. You were moaning and bouncing on his big and thick cock, your pussy felt like heaven for Mickey, he was never letting you go now.

“Fuck, daddy.” You screamed, and he could tell you were going to cum.

“Oh, I can tell you’re going to cum bunny. Come on, cum all over my cock little bunny.” He bit your left breast making you moan and then you pulled his hair and Mickey could feel you cumming around his cock.

You were exhausted, you put your head on his shoulder and Mickey started cumming inside you and you moaned. This was perfect, Mickey picked you up and put you on the bed. You started whining and he laid with you, and you laid on top of Mickey.

“I love you, never leave me.” After this, you fell asleep. Mickey smiled, this was way better than he ever imagined.

"Don't worry, bunny. You're mine now." He kissed your forehead and fell asleep as well.

[ang3lik]

💛(blue bannisters) mickey altieri - C, A and S. idm if it's a nsfw or sfw. congrats and I love you're writing so much, keep up the amazing work 🫶🏻

(also I chose the letters randomly)

𝐬𝐟𝐰 + 𝐧𝐬𝐟𝐰 𝐚𝐥𝐩𝐡𝐚𝐛𝐞𝐭

#pairing:: mickey altieri x implied!fem!reader. #a/n:: thankyou so much !! nsfw content under the cut.

SFW

𝐀 = 𝐀𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 (how affectionate are they? how do they show affection?)

very loving. shows affection by constantly reminding you that you’re his especially in public i.e. taking you in dates, letting you wear his sweaters. he also talks a lot about you both being long term and his plans for the future.

𝐂 = 𝐂𝐮𝐝𝐝𝐥𝐞𝐬 (do they like to cuddle? how would they cuddle?)

lovesss being the big spoon! he like cuddling everywhere and it doesn’t even have to be cuddling. he likes to put his arm around you in benches, have his hand in your thigh, hand in your back pocket. he likes being able to feel the warmth of you next to him at all times especially if he’s going to sleep or waking up.

𝐒 = 𝐒𝐞𝐜𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐲 (how protective are they? how would they protect you? how would they like to be protected?)

he feels quite secure in the fact that he knows you can handle yourself and that if anybody tried to flirt with you etc. you’d brush them off, but, he still gets very jealous and uses his own ways like just being around you all the time or leaving hickies in you in hard to cover spots.

NSFW

𝐀 = 𝐀𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐞 (what they’re like after sex)

he takes pretty good care of you, he’s very sweet and caresses you all over whilst rambling to you or telling you about his day or a new horror movie he watched as you both lie there, you in his arms.

𝐂 = 𝐂𝐮𝐦 (anything to do with cum, basically)

he loves cumming inside of you. has a kink for cumming in your panties and knowing your wearing them too. he also definitely has a slight breeding kink.

𝐒 = 𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐚 (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

if he’s very excited and turned on it really depends on his mood. you may have one very gentle or slow round and if he gets riled up again, he’ll be rough with you in the second round. or if he fucks you in the ghostface costume it’s really rough, but he takes it all off and fucks you again.

[liliesdiary]

♡ SCREAM MOODBOARDS ♡

GhostFace:

Ghostface x Goth Girl

Ghostface & His Doll

Ethan Landry:

Ethan Landry Stalks You

You Belong To Me

Ethan Landry's Pathetic Blue Doll

Ethan Landry's Pathetic Pink Doll

All I want for Christmas is you

Mickey Altieri:

Yandere Mickey

[luwritesomething]

mickey altieri x reader where she starts getting suspicious of him but ignores it cause he’s her boyfriend (and she’s in denial) until one day she accidentally catches him still in costume without him knowing. Reader then starts avoiding him and is super upset and doesn’t know what to do until one day he shows up and asks her why she’s been avoiding him. She tells Mickey that she saw him in the Ghostface costume and knows that he is the killer and he tries to explain himself and tries to calm her down. She’s very upset about it and is scared that he might hurt her but he reassures her that he won’t. She loves him so she eventually decides to stay with him anyway and promises that she won’t leave him or tell anyone abt him being the killer… I hope this made sense lol I feel like I put a lot I’m just in desperate need of mickey fics 😭

Mickey Altieri x Reader: Please.

Warnings: swearing, manipulation (mickey manipulates the reader to stay by his side), lack of morals from reader's side, mentions of blood and murder.

Word count: 2160

Author's note: i'm living for these requests! with this little piece, i was able to answer two of them, that's why i added the other one. i love mickey, but i actually struggled with writing this one because my moral alarm was going off everytime i tried to think of a reason for reader to stay with mickey after finding out... that's why i went down the manipulation path! hope you like it, and remember, no matter how 'unoriginal' or 'boring' you think your reqs may be, i love getting them and will most probably write them <3

also in here mickey is a little dumb dumb because he goes into his dorm with the ghostface costume on, something that i don't think mickey would actually do... but anyways! no more spoilers :)

graphic by me! also, i'm leaving my mickey altieri playlist, if anyone wants to take a look at it, feel free!

comments and reblogs are always appreciated! requests are open, especially for scream! hit that anon button and tell me your ideas. in the scream fandom, i write for billy loomis, stu macher, mickey altieri, chad martin-meeks, mindy martin-meeks, tara carpenter, anika kayoko, laura crane

The pounding of your heart was the only thing you could feel as you shut your eyes close and try not to make a damn sound. You knew you hadn’t been meant to witness what you had since the moment your mind had been able to connect the dots together, just some minutes ago, and now you were just trying not to discover yourself.

The sounds of someone moving around Mickey’s room had woken you up from your heavy sleep, the coldness from your boyfriend not being by your side anymore easing you up to reality. You had barely opened your eyes, a quick flutter that registered the small lamp in Mickey’s desk shedding its light in the figure next to it. Your heart had stopped at the sight of the figure who, even though had its back turned to you, you could recognize everywhere after last week’s news.

Someone was on a murder spree on campus, dressed with the same costume the figure there was wearing, so it was natural for your first thought to be that you were the next victim. You even saw the knife in the figure’s hand, blade stained with blood that meant you weren’t about to be the only dead of the night. But, before you could even think about moving to try and save your life, the figure had taken the ghostly mask off and you had recognized Mickey, your dear and loved and lovely boyfriend Mickey, in less than a second. That was when you had stopped breathing, your eyes closing as you tried to wash the sight of the bloody knife off your mind, and your heart trying to escape from your chest.

You waited in silence, trying to control the thoughts that raced through your mind, and not making a single move that could expose you to Mickey. Luckily enough, he got out of the room with a towel on his shoulder, to go and use the communitary shower, and that allowed you to breathe deep before trying to control the panic trying to take over your body.

Was Mickey really the killer? When you opened your eyes again, the costume was nowhere to be seen but it was not like you had the imagination to make that up. And if you were true to yourself, Mickey had been shady as fuck. Oh, God, were you really suspecting your own boyfriend of being a killer? The evidence had been right there, in front of your eyes — that wasn’t suspecting anymore.

When some steps could be heard outside the door, you forced yourself to close your eyes, trying to focus on anything other than the sick feeling messing with your stomach. You kept yourself grounded, hidden between the pillow and the sheets, and your body stilled terribly when Micky got himself on bed, like nothing had happened. He smelled sweet, the scent of his shampoo surrounding you.

Quietly, you held your breath as his arms surrounded you, lovingly, and you waited for something — anything — to happen.

You waited for the whole night, but nothing other than Mickey swiftly falling asleep did.

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The days passed by, and your mind couldn’t help but bring back the image of Mickey on the costume with the bloody knife whenever you were around him. And that was terrible, because you spent an incredible amount of time with Mickey, which quickly brought you to avoid him.

At first it was rather small and subtle — made up group projects, very real homework, studying. Then, the need to be on your own, which triggered his suspicions of something else going on. You were inevitably jumpy around him during those times you ran out of excuses, laughing less than usual and sometimes even zoning out on him. The thought of you losing your feelings for him was nearly driving him insane.

Mickey couldn’t stop thinking about you during his film history course, and not in a good way. From college, his murder spree and now you acting up, he had received a ridiculous amount of stress — enough to make him space out in every single class of his. In the middle of the lesson he had already made up his mind about having to talk things out with you and figure out what he had said or done to upset you that much.

When the class ended he was the first one to get out, without even saying goodbye to Randy, and heading towards the classroom he knew you’d be in. You both had learned each other’s schedules after spending so much time together, and that hour was perfect, since his class ended a little bit before yours and both were the last classes of the day.

Oblivious to his presence outside the classroom, you calmly gathered your things once the class came to an end, agreeing a date and hour with the partner you had been assigned to for your next project. Attending your classes and focusing on your schoolwork kept your mind off things — things being Mickey — but as soon as you crossed the classroom doors and saw him there, it all came back.

Mickey smiled at you, even if you didn’t smile back, and walked towards you with that easy going manner of doing things he had. You waited for him with your fingers drumming against your side, which he caught on — weren’t you happy to see him? Even if he had verbalized that question, he wouldn’t have gotten an answer.

“Hey.”

“I didn’t know you were coming.” You said, forcing a smile that, surprisingly, hadn’t felt so forced. Maybe you had been slipping lately, but your objective was not to be killed, and you didn’t know how far he was planning on going. “I have to go to the library, do you want to hang after—?”

“I just wanna talk to you for a minute.” Mickey interrupted you, grabbing the hand you had use to lightly gesture around.

Your heart started pounding so loudly you were afraid he able to hear it. He wasn't, but you didn’t notice his fingers pressing on the pulse point on your grip, checking that, indeed, you were pretty nervous. “It can’t wait?”

“It’ll be just a min.” Mickey promised, insisting oh so charmingly. He squeezed your hand once. “Please?”

How were you supposed to say no to him when he asked so nicely, with his head cocked and his eyes shining? You nodded softly and sighed under your breath, letting him take you wherever he wanted as you tried not to think too much about it.

He led you outside and to the side of the building, a not so hidden place that equally allowed you to be seen by the students walking through campus but not be heard unless you raised your voices. You found yourself terribly afraid of noticing all these things, but Mickey letting your hand go and placing himself across from you got your attention too fast.

“What’s gotten into you?” He finally asked, head cocked.

It took you a second to catch it. “What?”

“You think I haven’t noticed?” Mickey pursed his lips slightly, then shook his head. He truly looked worried. “You can’t avoid me forever.”

“I’m not avoiding—”

“Oh, please.” Mickey waved his hand to make you stop, diminishing your ridiculous attempt to fool him. “Don’t lie to me like that. Just… tell me what I did wrong so I can undo it and—”

You started shaking your head, nervous. “It’s not— It’s not like that.”

The look in Mickey’s eyes was so helpless that you felt how your heart started to crumble. “Please?”

You looked away from him, feeling the fast way your heart was pumping blood. If you had been seated, you would have started to bounce your leg up and down — Mickey couldn’t be more confused at your nervous-wreck state.

“Are you the murderer?” You asked in a whisper, almost not daring to look up to see his reaction.

But his face didn’t tell you anything. Mickey was completely emotionless as he stared back into your eyes, his brain processing very slowly those four words that had just left your mouth. How could you know? He was sure he had been really careful, trying not to let his mood after a kill or planning affect any scenario between you. Mickey knew you were smart, but how?

That was not the right direction to go, though, he realized as you waited for him to give you an answer. You had been acting all weird around him because of being scared of him, and that feeling didn’t make him feel entirely good. 

“Listen…” He started, coming a step closer to you, but you instantly backed away.

“Don’t.” You hissed rather abruptly, still not believing he hadn’t denied it completely and put an end to your delusion. You were right. “If you get closer I’ll scream.”

“Sweetheart!” Mickey exclaimed, surprised, his eyebrows shooting up as the pet name he reserved for your softest moments slipping past his lips in what was an improvised plan of manipulation. The seriousness in his voice and face was the only thing you could pay attention to, though. “I wouldn’t hurt you. You know that, right?”

You hesitated and he almost hissed right then. Falling for you hadn’t been on his plan, but now that same plan was being threatened just because you had found — and he couldn’t have that happen. Mickey wouldn’t kill you, no, but his partner easily could if you did something stupid, and he also did not want you to go to the police saying things about him and the murders. He needed to think of a solution, and fast.

“Then why would you hurt others?” You said hastily, then your head looking around you to really make sure no one was listening. “You’ve killed people, Mickey. I knew some of them—”

“You have to trust me.” He interrupted you instantly. There was only one way out, as he saw it: manipulation. Mickey needed you by his side. His acting skills were enough for you to stop looking so nervous, watching closely how his eyes fell to the floor in fake defeat — but you didn’t know he was acting. You didn’t even know he was a star. “I can’t tell you but you have to trust me. I would never do anything to hurt you.”

His hand reached out to grab yours, but you dodged it, rather defensive. “And why would I trust you?”

“Because I’m not a liar.” Mickey frowned slightly. If you didn’t let him convince you of staying by his side, he would have to… The way he called out your name was rather heartbreaking, this time managing to catch your hand and pressing it against his chest. “Please. I wouldn’t hurt you, and you know that.”

He was making you doubt, he realized, as your eyes fell to your hand on his chest. Mickey seemed desperate from your eyes — begging you to stay. But it wasn’t right… “It just… this changes so many things.”

Mickey shook his head. “No, it doesn’t. I still love you, and I always will.” His promise sounded genuine, and it was. There was no denying that, Mickey truly loved you. If he didn’t, you would already be another number on his back, after those little four words you said to him. 

But there he was, playing tricks on your mind without you noticing. “I’d trade my life for yours.”

“Mickey…”

“I wouldn’t know what to do without you.” He insisted, more strongly now. His eyes continuously searched for yours, knowing you wouldn’t be able to deny him if you were looking right into his eyes. “Please, please, you have to trust me. Don’t you love me anymore?”

The question shocked you, and if you had been in your right mind, you would have realized the length of the manipulation. But in that moment it only made you gasp, surprised that he would actually question it with such a real expression. 

You were quick. “Of course I do!”

“Then…” A sigh interrupted Mickey, who looked down, letting your hand go. He didn’t need that much dramatism, but now that he had actually gotten used to the part, why stop? “Please.”

There wasn’t much thinking from your side. Mickey had asked you to please trust him, and that was what you were going to do. He had also promised not to hurt you, and you knew him too well — or so you thought. There needed to be more behind all this, and you had to be by his side. 

“I trust you.” You muttered after some seconds, and he looked up instantly. A soft smile blossomed in his lips as you nodded. “I won’t tell, I promise.”

Mickey leaned closer to you, with the swiftest movement, a hand cupping your cheek. “I love you.” He whispered softly.

“I love you too.” You replied against his lips.

[thefanficmonster]

please please please write something for Mickey altieri I love him sm

You know I love Mr. Altieri and I'm always happy to write for him 😉 Hope you enjoy this set of headcanons darling 💕

~ Lots of love, Vy 💌

Mickey Altieri having a crush on you in college would include:

You told yourself you wouldn't date in college - for many reasons

Obviously, piles of schoolwork and many hours of studying awaited you and you couldn't imagine yourself forfeiting your future and neglecting all that work for a significant other

But also the upcoming four years are exactly the years meant for being wild and you couldn't afford missing out on any of that due to a commitment to another person

But at this point life had rudely taught you that things rarely go as you hope and plan them to

One of the variables you didn't factor into your planning was Mickey fucking Altieri

The sleek bastard

You'd caught his eye from day one - orientation day, to be exact

He was very fond to see you in his film class and with a bit of asking around he found out you too are a film major

He wasted no time pulling out every flirting trick he can ever remember working on you

All to be dismissed and rejected each and every time

But he's a persistent man, well aware of his charm and charisma

"I'm not your type, I get it. How about we start over? Friends?"

"In your dreams, Altieri." You roll your eyes at his poorly disguised attempt at poking through your guard

"How come you know my last name?"

Your eyes widen before you can stop them

You've just exposed your own snooping agenda

You'd be lying if you said you didn't conduct your own research on this man

Sure, he's attractive, fun to be around, charismatic - magnetic, almost

And, contrary to his claim, just your type

But you refuse to give in

That is until you realize that giving him a chance doesn't automatically mean establishing a relationship

Rather a dynamic

One with the potential to be quite fun and exciting at best

Interesting and eventful at worst

So, when he tries one more time, offering you nothing more than his company to a sorority party

You shock him by agreeing, retorting with a time at which you required him to pick you up from your dorm building

And pick you up he does

You roll your eyes at the corny gesture of a bouquet - or the sorry excuse for one he'd picked up on his way across campus

Still, you can't help but find it endearing

"I knew you'd like me eventually" he is getting cocky, reaching even, but as long as he's able to get a laugh out of you he's satisfied

"Don't hold your breath. I just wanted to go to a party."

"Yeah but you could've gone with anyone else. Just admit you like me, hell won't freeze over."

You narrow your eyes at him a part of you regretting the decision to accept his offer while another corner of your brain is looking forward to the evening the two of you are about to have

"Over my dead body"

Little do you know, he could easily get that arranged

But he'd never do that, not to you anyway

"Ten bucks says they disappear to make out an hour into the party." Hallie says, peering over at Sidney as the two observe their friend meet up for something they adamantly claimed wasn't a date

"You're on." Sid agrees, both girls giggling as they get back to getting ready for the party

A party you and Mickey disappear from about forty-five minutes in, earning Hallie ten dollars

The rest is history - history filled with Mickey poking fun at how quickly your resolve crumbled

Because now, four months later, you're celebrating three months of officially dating

This is one of those rare occasions when life works out a lot better than you'd originally planned it

Some things are better off unplanned

The best things in life come as a surprise, after all

[wasawattpadkid]

Hihi!! I just wanna say first of all, I love you're writing skills you're so talented!

Im not sure what characters you write for besides Billy and Stu, but could you possibly do a Senario/Imagine about Mickey x a Surfer reader whos also a life guard?

I totally understand if you're not comfortable! Have a great day <3❤️

I'm totally cool with that! Hope you like it! 💕

Mickey

You had been a life guard for awhile now. It started as a summer job but you ended up really enjoying it.

That's how you met Mickey.

He frequented the beach you worked at on the hunt for someone to hopefully take home. (He rarely succeeded.)

He never caught your attention until he pretended to drown causing you to jump in after him.

"You saved my life, how could I ever repay you? Does dinner work?"

It was sleezy and it didn't work on you at first.

But persistence was key when it came to Mickey. He showed up every day after school hoping to get to know you better.

He showed up one day seeing you in the water rather than up in your assigned seat.

Mickey would be lying to himself if he said he didn't find your ability to surf incredibly attractive.

He tried to learn telling himself it couldn't be that hard.

You had to actually save him from drowning on your one day off.

"I guess you owe me a dinner." You said somehow wanting to spend more time with the man.

Mickey begged for you to teach him how to surf. He couldn't care less about the activity he just loved hearing you talk.

He constantly stole your whistle just to mess with kids running on the beach.

Mickey also found it funny to randomly yell "shark." The way people began running away never failed to crack him up and sometimes it made you laugh.

When you successfully rode a wave he would clap telling people around him that he knew you. "We're actually friends."

[queendeeshorrorimagines]

would Ghostface get married/have kids (if so, how many?)

Ghostface(s) when it comes to marriage and kids

I hope you don't mind me writing dbd ghostface, Billy, stu, Mickey altieri. If you wanted any more of the ghostfaces or if you want headcanons on how they would be as dads, feel free to let me know ^<^

Warnings: slight mentions of baby trapping on Jeds part, Canon typical violence (its Ghostface), spoilers for scream 5 on Billy's part

Fem! Leaning Reader, the marriage part could be read as gender neutral though

Jed Olsen

Jed isn't big on the concept of marriage for what most normal people would be when it comes to marriage. (I.E. the love and unification between two people) Jed definitely would use marriage with an significant other as a way to throw off the police for the most part.

A red harring to make profiling the Roseville killer much harder for them. For the most part, I think that Jed isn't keen on having the commitment of marriage because of his passion for being the ghostface.

So marriage with Jed wouldn't be a easy of fun one. You'll barely see him for possibly days on end between his day job and his true love- being ghost face. You would have to either be someone who is the house wife/husband type who asks no questions or the spouse who knows and supports jeds Ghost face passion.

When it comes to having children of his own, jed isn't big on it. Most cases, any pregnancy with jed would be accidental [if you're able to get pregnant] i.e. broken condoms, failed birth control.

On the very rare case that he feels like you're going to find out about his Ghostface passion, you might end up being pregnant as an attempt to keep you from leaving/ blowing his cover.

Kid total he wants: 1, maybe 2

Billy loomis

It's going to take a lot for Billy to want to get married. It's mostly because of his own parents and how their marriage ended.

I do believe that eventually, once Billy becomes more mature with his trauma having to deal with his mother abandoning him and his father not being the best, he might be more open to marriage. Like Jed, Billy might also use marriage as a cover for if he eventually goes back to becoming ghostface.

Ideally, Billy and Stu were never caught as the Woodsboro killers and got away with it, I feel that being married to Billy would feel like you're also in a way married to Stu given how close of a friendship they have with each other. At least with Billy, the marriage would feel more loving rather than you coexisting with a human sized murderous cat.

Although Billy does technically have a daughter, I don't think that he would be in any rush to have kids especially if the case was he just found out about knocking a girl up when he was a senior in high school. He would like to try to get to know the daughter that was hidden from him before he brings any more mini Lomis' into the world.

If we ignore scream 5 and Billy didnt have any children before marrying you, the case of any pregnancy would be most likey be an accidental one (i.e. not pulling out on time, condom broke, failed birth control, forgetting to use protection)

Kid total he wants: 1

Stu Macher

Stu would be one of the ghostfaces who would be into marrying someone for legitimate reasons rather than a alibi.

Out of him and Billy, Stu would be the first one to get married and potentially start a family of his own. Money wouldn't be an issue for him because of his family and his privileged upbringing to be able to be a better husband out of the ghostfaces.

Being married to Stu for the most part is close to a kinda normal marriage you'll get in your situation as the spouse of a Ghostface. Stus worst flaw would be his tendency of threatening you financially if you push too hard on his Ghostface hobby.

Having children with Stu would be one of the more natural things to happen compared to Billy or Jed. Especially if Stu and you have been together for a while.

Stu is also one of the more supportive Ghostface husbands when it comes to helping out with taking care of your shared children/ supporting you through your pregnancy.

Kid total he wants: 2 or 3, he's open to however many you want

Mickey Altieri

Mickey would probably marry you just to further cement his name into being known more for his killings in Windsor. He loves you in his own peculiar way but he also knows how you can help make him even more well known by you being the spouse of him.

Mickey is the only Ghostface that I don't really see a way I can write him to where he fully gets away with being Ghostface without making him out of his character. The most likely scenario is the both of you will end up marrying with before he gets caught or a prison wedding.

Marriage with mickey will be more isolating than marrying Jed because you will be isolated from the public for being the wife of the Windsor Ghostface and the fact your life revolves around seeing Mickey occasionally with the weekly phone calls.

Similar to mickey marrying, he would probably have a child for a similar rason- to keep his name in public. Don't get me wrong, he would love kids with you if you want that too.

Your pregnancy might be before he gets caught or during one of your conjugal visits with Mickey. I just don't think anyone would want you to adopt because of your marriage with mickey.

Kid total he wants: 1, maybe 2 at most

[unabashedlittleblackbook]

Imagine Requests Open!

I will try my best to write for as many fandoms as I can! Send in your ideas and I’ll see what I can do!

[imyourbratzdoll]

Warnings and Reminders - Please do not plagiarise, copy, repost/republish, adapt, or translate any of my work on any social media platforms, apps, or third-party sites. The only platforms I post my work on are: Tumblr and Wattpad. I do not own any character of any franchise (Marvel etc.) All my works are fiction and may be dark or triggering content: READ ALL WARNINGS BEFORE PROCEEDING.

𝐌𝐈𝐂𝐊𝐄𝐘 𝐀𝐋𝐓𝐈𝐄𝐑𝐈 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓:

 ♡ 𝒇𝒍𝒖𝒇𝒇 ➳ 𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒔𝒕 ❥ 𝒔𝒎𝒖𝒕 ❦ 𝒅𝒂𝒓𝒌

೫˚🖤❀ *ૢ🥀೫˚🌑

𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐚𝐬𝐤 ❥♡

summary - mickey fucks you instead of answering your questions

೫˚🖤❀ *ૢ🥀೫˚🌑

[mickeyswhore]

hiieee can i request some boyfriend hc’s for Mickey? can be nsfw and sfw!

A/N: I'll do you one better, Nonnie. I'll do both. Hope you enjoy it because I loved writing it! 🥰

SFW

Mickey is touchy, at all times. He has his hands on your legs, your arms, your butt, your waist, anywhere he can put his hands on.

Mickey loves to get into argument mode, he loves to see how passionate you are about the things you enjoy.

MUSEUM DATES, MUSEUM DATES, MUSEUM DATES

Mickey loves to take you to a museum, and after that drink coffee with you and discuss everything the two of you saw.

You're the only person that he has contact with who met his family, they were blue collar, his dad was a welder and his mum was a teacher and you found out where he got his passion for history and film.

He's the first of his family to go to college and his parents are very proud of him and support his dreams of being a film director, and they want the two of you any holiday you can get to spend time with them, they adore you.

"Marry her." His mother told Mickey.

"That's the plan, mum." Mickey told his mother after watching you play games with his cousins.

Mickey gives you a flower every day, and you keep them in your books.

He's surprisingly romantic and listens to anything you want and gives you a present and is exactly what you want.

Mickey was a player before he met you, but after dating you he doesn't want anything to jeopardise your relationship, so he only goes to parties when you are there and avoids girls that aren't from your friend group.

JEALOUS JEALOUS JEALOUS

Mickey can't help it, it's your fault for being so hot.

Randy has a crush on you and Mickey hates him for it, he makes sure to have you on his lap every time Randy is around.

You have to calm him down and you also make sure to reassure him that you don't want anyone else but him.

If Mrs. Loomis gives any inkling that she wants to get rid of you, he will kill her, and he won't hesitate. You're the most important thing for Mickey and no one would ever hurt you.

NSFW

Mickey will ALWAYS make you cum at least twice every time you guys fuck.

He's the KING of oral sex, his kink is making you squirt as much as he can. You didn't even know that you were capable of that before Mickey came into your life.

Mickey has a huge cock, scary big...he was afraid to hurt you the first few times that the two of you had sex and sometimes he still is.

When Mickey gets jealous, he will tease you and not allow you to cum.

"Mickey, please let me cum." You had tears running down your face, he was bringing you near peak for hours, and you couldn't take it anymore.

"No one else can make you cum like I can, bunny. Especially not the nerd Randy." His mouth went to your over sensitive pussy one more time, but this time made you cum again.

Mickey is VERY possessive, so he would never let anyone see you this way, public sex is a huge no-no

Threesomes too, he would never share you with anyone, you're his and only his.

Mickey loves your butt AND boobs, he thinks they are perfect and will spend hours playing with both of them.

Mickey LOVES to cum inside you, but his guilty pleasure is cumming on your face, he loves to see you eating his cum.

[ang3lik]

congrats on 1k bae!!!

💡

Mickey Altieri

69 🤭

📜 | RED. mickey altieri

[ AFTER ] : sender has just impulsively and passionately kissed the receiver without any warning nor apparent reason. how does the receiver respond? warnings: murder, death and blood. w/c: 353

scream masterlist main masterlist

mickey stood above sidney, her body laying limp as he had finished slashing at her with his knife. he lifted his mask for the second time that night, as he looked towards your stiff body only a few metres away. you had just watched him kill sidney, watching on in horror as she screamed for your help.

you were unable to move forward, your feet cemented to the ground. mickey stepped forward quietly, his shoes scuffing the stage as he held his hands out forward, approaching you cautiously, still wary of your reaction. your glossy eyes darted towards him a mixture of despair filled with something mickey couldn’t decipher filled the tears at your waterline.

he looked over your body, checking for marks, his eyes catching the red streaks of blood, splattered across your skin. his tongue slipped out, wetting his lips as he looked at your face again. doe eyes stared back at him in questioning and to mickey surprise, admiration too.

you looked down to his hands, free from the gloves he had pulled of a a few seconds before coming closer. the red liquid pooled in the palms of his hands, still dripping of the tips of his fingers as he raised them to your face. he held you gently, keeping eye contact ad he smeared stains across your face.

his thumb trailed your lower lip, pulling it down gently as his eyes followed his movements. your breath hitched as your tongue moved slightly, catching a lick of the iron taste from the tip of his thumb. a quiet whine sounded from the back of your throat as he smirked, his eyes darkening as he caught on to your fascination.

his face rushed towards yours fast, his lips colliding with yours as he pushed closer. his tongue teased your lips as you let him in. his tongue battled yours, a coppery taste seeping in from the sides of your lips as he pulled away. a string of crimson dropped from in between you both as he spoke in a hushed tone.

“you know red really does look good on you.”

[liliesdiary]

๋⭑♡♱ Yandere Mickey loves to make you bleed ๋࣭⭑♡♱

inspiration: 🕸️𓆩♡𓆪🕸️

[luwritesomething]

Heyyyyyyy can you do a Mickey Altieri x gn!reader and they are both in the same film class and the reader and Mickey are rivals and they get paired on a project together and after they get a good grade on it they realize that they really like eachother and they kiss at the end 😍

But if you do end up doing this thank you so much!!!!!

Also the reader and Randy are besties

I will be back with Stu and Billy requests later ☺️

Mickey Altieri x Reader: happy fools

Warnings: Swearing (probably), mentions of food (no ed), reader doesn’t eat because they have no money to afford it (no ed), reader has money problems, reader has a scholarship that pays for a big part of their living, sucky boss, money problems, mentions of the theater murders and the woodsboro murders, no mentions of mickey being part of the murders but no mention of him not being part of the murders either.

Tags: academic rivals to lovers dynamic, reader dislikes mickey more than mickey dislikes reader, mickey is annoying but loveable, randy is reader’s best friend, cici is perfect and we love her for that, reader ends up liking mickey, group project

Reader pronouns: Non stated.

Word count: 3767

Summary: Mickey and Reader have been rivals since they started college, but they’re paired up for a Film Theory project together.

Author’s note: SORRY FOR TAKING THIS LONG @alexhostghost. i loved this req!!!!!! rivals/enemies to lovers all the way!!!!!! i think i made this reader a bit more specific with the whole schoolarship and money problems thing, but i hope it's still good and liked <3 also i listened to happy fools on a loop so there you go. graphic is mine !!

criticism, comments and reblogs are always appreciated! requests are open, especially for scream! hit that anon button and tell me your ideas. in the scream fandom, i write for billy loomis, stu macher, randy meeks, tatum riley, sidney prescott, mickey altieri, kirby reid, chad meeks martin, mindy meeks martin, tara carpenter, anika kayoko and laura crane.

“No, it’s a perfect example of life imitating art, imitating life.” Mickey interrupted Cici matter of factly, with that assholish grin you had learned to roll your eyes at. Cici opened her mouth to debate that, but Mickey was faster, following with his reasoning. “It’s really not that difficult to understand, guys.”

It all had started when Professor Robinson had asked all of you if you had heard the news of two campus students getting murdered in the opening for the new, flashy slasher film, Stab. The movie was based on true events, which had transcurred at a town called Woodsboro less than a year ago — your friend Randy, from your same major, had been one of the key survivors of that same massacre —; and its reality had quickly become a topic of discussion for your classmates. 

Mickey, one of Randy’s friend and who you barely could handle during classes because God was he always trying to be better than you, and other boys had started arguing that the murders had been a direct consequence of the nature of the film, to which Cici Cooper had instantly replied calling out their absolute bullshit. You couldn’t agree more with Cici, but Mickey’s attitude diminishing what your friend tried to very politely explain had made you scoff and straighten in your chair.

“Life doesn’t and shouldn’t imitate art.” You found yourself saying, rather loudly. Mickey’s eyebrows shot up your way, and you guessed you could continue talking, as now Professor Robinson was looking at you expectantly. “And also, calling that Stab movie is such an overstatement — it’s trash. Even the book on which is based, The Woodsboro Murders? It sucks dick. ”

“It actually happened.” A girl from one of the front rows said, and you clicked your tongue.

For a second or two, your eyes drifted to Randy, who only scrunched his nose slightly to show he was actually listening. You couldn’t imagine how discussing the murders he had seen less than a year ago felt for him, but you weren’t about to stop — and Randy wasn’t one to stop a good debate from happening, either.

“No shit?” You inquired, sarcasm dripping from your tongue, and Cici by your side laughed as the girl that had spoken just rolled her eyes. “What I’m trying to say it’s the writing itself sucked, I can’t do anything about the real story. The thing is violence, and less along murder, can’t be excused by the argument of ‘they watched too many movies’. It just doesn’t work like that.”

Cici pointed at you with a smile on her face. “Thank you!”

“Whoa, there.” Mickey called out from the back of the class, forcing you to turn your head slightly to look at him. “Nobody was trying to excuse it.”

Your head cocked to the side. “Why won’t you just admit that you’re wrong?”

Humdrum bursted into the class, as light whistles and laughter could be heard from your comeback, slowly easing a little grin into your face while you stared back at Mickey. His lips corners also raised, amused with how you had slightly caught him red handed, and you ended up turning your head to the front of the class when Professor Robinson took everyone’s attention by coughing fakely.

“Well, I’m just going to chirp in during my class to remind you that you guys can actually share your opinions outside of class.” Mister Robinson said with a smile on his face. 

When Cici chuckled under her breath, like many others, and nudged you in your side, you just rolled your eyes. You could tell the class was close to end as people around you started subtly gathering their things, and also by the way Mister Robinson glanced at the clock in the classroom before he stopped leaning onto his desk.

“Before you all go,” he said, stopping everyone’s movements. His hand pointed at the cork board in the back of the classroom, rather lazily. “I wanted to tell you that the pairs and subjects of this term’s project are already available for you to check in the back of the classroom. Remember you must do well on your presentations, since it will not only count as half of your grade, but your classmates’ too considering all the subjects will be parts of the upcoming exam.”

Most groaned, but you just looked away and started gathering your things calmly, knowing most of your classmates would rush to the cork board and wouldn’t let you see until some minutes had passed. Mister Robinson had already left the classroom when complaints about the partners or the subjects started to rise between the students, and you only heard half of what Cici was telling to the other girl about her subject, Auteur theory. 

Once you had your things, you lifted from your seat and dodged the other desks and chairs to reach the cork board where, among others, was Randy. You knew you hadn’t been paired up together from the moment he turned to look at you with a funny expression you couldn’t quite crack, and that was truly a pity — you two had grown pretty close for the last couple of weeks since your first project together, in that same Film Theory class.

“You’re gonna like this.” He muttered once you placed yourself by his side, making you frown.

“Why?” You asked, but before he could answer, your eyes started scanning the list printed and hung on the board, searching for your name. Oh. Your lips pursed instantly, eyes rolling to the back of your head. “Oh, fuck.”

You could already feel his presence behind you, his stupid and annoying grin as Mickey said, “Looks like we’re gonna have to stop fighting.”

“You could be a great team.” Randy agreed softly as he searched for your eyes, but you rolled them again — it’s funny, you realized as he chuckled softly. It’s funny for him, because Randy didn’t have to work with his so-called rival, you did.

Without saying anything to either of them, you turned around and walked out of the classroom with your mind too occupied with all you have to do other than stay around with a jerk and your friend. Your rent is due and the money from your scholarship is not coming for some reason, and you also have a ton of homework and extra shifts to cover for the lack of money — you literally did not have the time.

You were already out of the building, deep in your thoughts, when you heard someone calling out your name. You recognized the voice, so you barely turned to see Mickey jogging towards you with his backpack on only one shoulder and his dumb camera on his left hand — you didn’t even stop walking, which absolutely made him call out your name again.

“Hey, hold up!” He chuckled with that wide grin of his, the one you were used to rolling your eyes at. However, this time you held yourself back, having done that too many times in the last minutes, and now you actually listened to him, stopping your walking to let him catch up.

Mickey flashed a smile when he reached you, accommodating the strap on his shoulder to make sure his backpack wasn't falling to the ground. “We have to cooperate now, we’re a team.”

“Lucky me.” You muttered, and after checking he was finally willing to walk, you resumed your pace with him by your side.

“When are you free?” He asked, choosing to ignore your lack of enthusiasm. 

You truly didn’t understand it — you didn’t hate Mickey, or you guessed so. He was just annoying to you, always saying the exact opposite of what you said just for the hell of getting under your skin. Just a few weeks of classes, and he had finally won the position of your rival, so his amusement for the situation wasn’t really something you could understand.

“Not today.” You chose to say, head shaking to get rid of your cavilations. If you hadn’t known Mickey better, you could have sworn he looked taken aback, so you added, “But Formalism is an easy theory, so we can start researching by ourselves meanwhile.”

“We still have to pick a date.” Mickey insisted, his head cocked to the side and without taking his eyes away from you.

You snorted softly. “What, do you really have a busy enough life to need everything planned to the minute?”

“You’re not getting rid of me.” He replied with a sing-song, without answering your sarcastic question.

“Do I have to tell you now?”

“Yeah, kinda.”

“Fine.” You stopped dead in your tracks, surprising him, but he immediately turned to look at you, your arms crossed on top of your chest. “Tomorrow after lunch, outside of the library.”

A smile crossed his face, and you could have sworn he blinked at you as he walked away, saying, “Perfect. See you there, then!”

You were late, you knew, and it irked you. It hadn’t being your fault, if you saved the part in which you had agreed to do an extra shift at your job to get some extra money — you were in dire need of cash, and still, your boss hadn’t paid you after that, arguing he would give you all the money he owed you when the official time had come. So, you were tired, late to your date for the project with Mickey, hungry because you hadn’t eaten in the whole day and with no extra money.

At least you hadn’t been late enough to make Mickey leave from the library doors, which relieved you as you quickened your pace to reach him. Mickey watched you without his usual smile, probably annoyed because of the solid fifteen minutes he had been waiting for you; but he only frowned when you folded once you arrived to his side, catching your breath. Have you been running? — Mickey searched for traces of sweat in your forehead and skin, and he found them, little pearls of rushed sweat that exposed you to him forming near your hairline.

“I’m sorry.” You said, before he could open his mouth, and you tried your best to straighten yourself so you could look into his eyes. “I’m late, I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright.” Mickey assured with a curious glimmer in his eyes. His head tilted to the side as he watched you breathe heavily. “Is everything alright? You shouldn’t have run.”

“I didn’t run.” You lied rather dryly, and you pushed your hair off your shoulder and away from your face. The sound that came from your starving stomach wasn’t too loud, but Mickey heard it, which only mortified you more — how more could you embarrass yourself? “Sorry, I haven’t eaten anything today. Anyways, should we–?”

Mickey interrupted you quickly. “What do you mean you haven’t eaten?”

You blinked once, processing his question. “I’m running low on money and skipped lunch to do an extra shift at work.”

“What about breakfast?”

“Mickey, drop it. I had no time, and it's not like my fridge is full. We need to work now, I’ll eat something later.”

When you tried to dodge him to finally go into the library, his hand grabbed your wrist, stopping you. “You’re not going in there without eating something first.”

“Excuse you?” You hissed, a frown becoming visible between your eyebrows, astounded that he would have the audacity to tell you what you could and couldn’t do.

“If you die, I’ll have a bad conscience.” Mickey replied, with a little smirk that was even more annoying than the way he was trying to control you. It was for a good reason, sure, but still. “We’ll work at a café, where you can have something to eat.”

You scoffed, and moved your hand away from him so he would let go, which worked. “What part of I’m running low on money you didn’t understand, Altieri? I can’t afford lunch at a café.”

“My treat.” He insisted, as his smirk dropped. It made you realize, that gesture, that he was completely serious about what he was saying.

But for some reason, owing him money of all people made you feel terrible. “I’m not letting you buy me food.”

Mickey rolled his eyes, now as equally annoyed as you were. “Then you’ll pay me back once you get your hands on your money, alright? Please? We’re wasting time here.”

You couldn’t help but click your tongue, but when you took a glance at the watch on your wrist, you realized he was right. With your lateness and the bickering, you two had already lost more than twenty minutes in which you should have been working on your Formalism project. He was right, and you hated that.

“Fine.” You grunted lowly, and he only smiled, before he led the way to one of the cafés outside of campus.

It was awkward, having him buy you lunch. You had always liked to think of yourself as a very independent person, and honestly, you thought you were. College life was stressful but a blessing in this aspect, although the money and tuition fees were certainly something worth bawling your eyes for. You had always had money problems and managed and planned your life on campus around that, but it was also true that you had never gone without having something for breakfast or lunch because of having to save money for something more important. Fortunately, that very same morning you had received a warning that your warning would come late but still come, but that didn’t make the fact of having Mickey behind you and watching what you would choose for him to pay any better.

“You can choose whatever.” He said, after you spent five slow minutes trying to figure out which sandwich from the ones displayed in the cafe’s counter would be less expensive. You looked at Mickey from the corner of your eyes, but he wasn’t looking at you, maybe to make things easier for you. “It’s not like I’m gonna go broke for buying you lunch.”

With a hum, you acknowledged his words. You stared at the sandwiches ahead, and murmured, “Thanks.”

After you had chosen two different sets of sandwiches and some juice that looked delicious — and after Mickey had ordered a coffee with a ridiculously little amount of milk —, you carried your tray to one of the empty tables in the back of the establishment while Mickey paid. You put the folder of information you had found about Formalism next to your tray and started eating without waiting for him.

You watched him walk towards your table, coffee mug in his free hand, while the other carried his black wallet. Now that you were eating, you no longer felt embarrassed for having someone paying for your food once, and for a second, you forgot how little you were used to getting along. It’s not like you hated him — if you did, you wouldn’t have let him buy you anything.

“Better?” Mickey asked as he slid into the seat across from you.

Shortly, you nodded. “Thanks. I’ll pay you back, I promise.”

“There’s no rush.” He said, before he took a sip of his coffee. When you found yourself staring at him too much, finding his unshaven stubble more attractive than usual, you forced yourself to look away. “I know how expensive tuition fees are.”

“Yeah, well, I have a scholarship. The money should be coming, that’s the thing.”

Mickey watched you curiously. “I did not know you had a scholarship.”

“I do.” You murmured. Outside of class, you had never really talked to him much. He was close friends with Randy, sure, but the timing had never been right between you two — and you were always busy, something for which Randy always teased you. “Anyways, I have been doing some research about Formalism. It’s an easy subject, but we’re going to have to explain it really well.”

“Oh, yeah.” Mickey nodded, agreeing with you, and he once again took a sip off his coffee. “Is that folder what you found? You finish your food and I’ll start reading.”

With a hum, you nodded your head and Mickey leaned in to grab your folder and open it. His eyes started scanning over the documents you had printed, and you went back to focusing on your sandwiches, but you noticed the slight smile that appeared in his mouth once he saw your calligraphy in between the documents.

Mickey was actually someone nice to be around, and you slowly discovered that your rivalry had been wrongly directed to a fake image you had of him. If he had ever been annoying with you, arguing for absolutely every single thing you said, it was because he was that kind of funny; and it was rather easy to befriend him after the hours you spent together on the Formalism project. Sooner than later, your project was finished, and college life continued like it always had before that.

Mister Robinson took a whole two weeks to mark all the projects after all the pairs’ presentations were done. Randy had actually confessed to you, after you and Mickey had explained the theory that had been assigned to you with a slide presentation that had been his idea, that you two had probably been one of the best presentations — after his, of course. It was still a compliment, coming from him.

“Star Trek is better than Star Wars, I don’t care.” One of the girls in your class insisted, prompting a bunch of booing and another bunch of claps.

When you lifted your head from laughing at the improvised debate that had formed something Mister Robinson had said while explaining the main themes in film for the last few years — the poor man was probably sick of these debates, but he always listened, aware it was important for his students to communicate their ideas eloquently —, you found that Mickey was profusely shaking his head at what the girl had said. 

“Star Wars is just George Lucas inserted into a different, low budget and worse Star Trek universe.” Another boy said, backing the girl up, and now it was Randy who was shaking his head.

“Comparing Star Wars to Star Trek is absurd.” Randy said, pitched raised slightly so he would be heard. “Not because of one being better than the other, that’s not the point at all. You wouldn’t compare The Godfather with Goodfellas, would you?”

Even Mister Robinson laughed at that, finding that Randy was right — once again. You just shook your head as you laughed when Cici turned to look at you with an incredulous eyebrow raised, like you could actually control all the shit that came from Randy’s mouth.

“Before you leave.” Mister Robinson called out, his eyes raising to the clock on the wall, like he was used to doing now due to the constant introductions during his classes. The humdrum around you, caused by the people gathering their things, didn’t stop you from listening to what he had to say. “You can find the marks for your projects in the cork board.”

You waited seated, recalling the time in which he had said the opposite — that the pairs and subjects could be found in that same place —, and knowing that you wouldn’t be able to see anything if you went with all the people who wanted to see it right then. It surprised you seeing that Randy and Cici made their ways into the masses of people, and then left once they had taken a peak at their marks.

Once the classroom started to empty, you got up from your chair and walked to the cork board, dodging Mickey and another boy talking back at the first’s desk. Before you made your way to the board, the boy left the classroom, and it was only you and Mickey.

“Mickey.” You called out as soon as your eyes identified your names together, your voice almost coming strained. “We got the highest grade.”

“We did?” Mickey laughed, getting up from his desk and walking towards you, his eyes focused on the sheet of paper. “Oh, holy shit, we did.”

You couldn’t help but chuckle, but your voice came out as a mutter. “Wow.”

“We make a hell of a good team, then.”

Holding back your smile, you looked up to him — Mickey wasn’t hiding his smile, letting it shine over you, and you didn’t feel the need to roll your eyes anymore. Lately, as you spent more and more time with him, you had forgotten about your need to be annoyed by him, and instead grew into an urge to wrap your arms around his neck and kiss him. It was like a positive intrusive thought, although still scary.

You blinked once when he called out your name. “You’re staring.”

“Is that bad?” You let out before you could stop yourself, but you started to feel embarrassed.

Before you could look away or cringe at what you had said, Mickey’s smile turned softer as he looked at you. “You tell me.”

You chuckled softly and looked away while shaking your head slightly. It was weird feeling your heart beat so fast against your chest, but you pushed through the feeling.

“Listen, I still have to repay you for that lunch and I was thinking…” Your head lifted again, so you could lock eyes with him, and you almost went breathless when you saw the intensity with which he was looking at you. “Would you have dinner with me?”

“Are you asking me on a date?” Mickey asked, his smile growing impossibly wider.

The nerves got the best of you, as you started to stumble, “I mean, it doesn’t necessarily have to be a date but yeah, it could be if you wanted to–”

“I’d love to go on a date with you.” He said, interrupting your embarrassment, and you smiled as a thank you. Mickey looked so pretty as he lowered his head slightly, like he was telling you a secret. “And I’d really like to kiss you right now, if that’s okay.”

Oh, what a rush of dumb happiness was your body receiving right now.

“Yeah, you can kiss me.” You muttered, and as soon as you said it, Mickey moved closer to you.

His hand rested on your waist, pulling you even closer to him, and his lips pressed against you in the exact same way you had imagined — just a few times before — they would. Wrapping your arms around his neck, you kissed him back.