#mickey altieri x dahlia levine

[mrsaltieri-real]

His Perfect Victim (Mickey Altieri x OC!Dahlia Levine)

Chapter Twelve: Plaything (Mickey’s POV)

Words: 3.5k

Warnings: language, mentions of sex, mention of Mickey’s murder and backstory, conflicted feelings, talk of murdering Dahlia, deception, betrayal, threatening, Nancy Loomis being a cunt, etc.

A/N: we’re getting into the nitty gritty of it all, the pace is going to be picked up after this. Expect smut, angst, fucking feelings and everything in between. Writing from Mickey’s POV is so much fun, especially when he’s so torn and confused about his own feelings and actions. Who knows how this is going to turn out? I know, @bisexual-horror-fan who has once again helped me by beta reading and editing this knows. Thank you again, you absolute fucking star!

Tag: @lizey-thornberry

Dahlia was fun to play with, at least initially, but watching how worked up and upset she’d get every time her phone would buzz, how she’d jump at the sound and the flash of fear that took over her features was beginning to concern me, something I’d never expected to feel. Maybe I cared about her more than I wanted to admit, maybe Nancy’s relentless phone calls to her were messing with her head too much, and it bothered me enough to mimic the feeling of worry, at least part of me hopes it is mimicking it, as opposed to me actually worrying. Either way, it had to stop.

I looked down at Dahlia, fast asleep with her lips slightly parted, her dark curls framing her pretty face, and I sighed, rubbing a hand through my hair and down my face. I pushed myself up slowly and carefully from beside her, trying my best not to jostle her awake.

It was easy to pretend to care about people that I felt absolutely no connection with, Sidney, Randy, Derek and Hallie, it was a lot more difficult to pretend like I didn’t care about her when she’d somehow managed to find her way underneath my skin.

My phone buzzed quietly from her bedside table and I picked it up quickly, seeing the name printed across the screen; Bankroller.

I didn’t bother throwing anything on other than my sweats before leaving her room as quietly as I could to take the call, already feeling the anger building in my chest as I pressed the phone to my ear and hissed out, “Nancy, what the fuck do you think you’re doing?”

Nancy Loomis scoffed at me down the phone, I could picture her snooty eye roll as she exclaimed, “Well, good morning to you too, Mickey. You’re late. We were supposed to meet an hour ago.”

“I’ve been busy.” I snapped, immediately hushing my voice as soon as it raised, “But you already knew that. Why are you calling her?”

I heard Nancy sigh before she said, “We’ll discuss this when I see you. You know where to go. Don’t keep me waiting,” before the line went dead, and I heard the dull hum of the dial tone.

Fucking bitch.

I gripped the phone tighter, pulling it down to my side as I let out a sharp breath, glancing back at the door and hesitating for a moment, eyeing the door knob.

The plan was in place, it had been for a while, I wasn’t having any doubts about it, about my motive. I knew what I had to do, what I wanted to do, but Nancy was already beginning to cross a line.

They were mine to torment as I saw fit. It has been made explicitly clear that I do what I have to do, get as close to the three of them as I possibly can, learn everything about them, their routines, habits, down to their favourite kind of drinks. It was fine with Randy and Sidney, fine with Derek and Hallie. But I’d found myself beginning to feel something for Dahlia.

Do I care about her? Probably. Do I care enough about her to stop what’s to come?

Fuck no.

I pushed the door back open, trying to be as quiet as possible as I stepped in, beginning to pull my clothes on, eyes fixed on her sleeping form. She’d rolled over onto her side, arms curled around her pillow with her face buried in mine. She looked so peaceful, her face was perfectly smooth, and her full lips had turned up into a small smile.

It was hard not to take pride in the fact that I’d made her this way, gradually snipped away at the deadbeat, emotionless shell of a person she used to be and dragged out this version of her, so endearing and warm and soft. Once dressed, I leaned down and brushed some of her hair from her face, pressing my lips softly to her forehead in hopes I would not wake her up. She always smelt amazing, like vanilla and coconut, it’s something that I’d found myself getting used to and missed when she wasn’t around.

What the fuck was going on with me?

Maybe it was selfish of me to have wanted to test this out in the first place, see how far I could get with her. But the plan remained the same, Dahlia was going to die alongside Sidney, alongside her precious Randy. But what if that wasn’t in the cards, for her, anyway?

I thought about it as I walked off campus once I’d left her dorm, thought about all of it. Maybe she didn’t have to die. Maybe she wasn’t supposed to die. Perhaps the sole reason she’s still alive was an act of fate. She had died back in Woodsboro, but she’d come back, and something about that had been sticking in my brain like crazy for the last few months. Who the hell was I to test and play fate like that? She was obviously still here for a reason.

Was I the reason? Was I supposed to meet this girl, find her and make her a part of my life, heal her, make her feel something for me, make her feel things again in general? Would killing her be a monumental mistake? The last thing I wanted to do was give a great big fuck you to the universe. I had my own reasons for being here, she must have one too.

Nancy was sitting in the regular coffee shop a couple of miles off campus, just outside of town, her head bent over a notebook she was scribbling in erratically, clearly planning out the next move. I couldn’t help but wonder her future intentions with Dahlia as I cleared my throat once I reached the table, eyebrows raised expectantly.

She looked up at me, brown eyes blank as she raised a hand, gesturing to the chair in front of her with a simple, “Sit down, Mickey.”

With a roll of my eyes, I sat, thumping my hands against the table and drumming my fingers against the wood, staring her down just as she was to me, dropping the notebook in front of her.

“So?” I asked after a few moments of increasingly uncomfortable silence, “Why are you bothering her so much?”

Nancy’s hands clasped together as she leaned forward to speak in a hushed tone to me, “The question is, why do you care? Look, Mickey, I understand that you are getting frustrated with the waiting, that you want to go ahead and begin all this, but this girl is distracting you. You’re supposed to be getting closer to Sidney, but it would seem as though you’re wasting your precious time with Dahlia.” She spat out her name as though the taste of it disgusted her and picked up her cup, taking a sip of coffee. I felt a twinge of anger flicker in my stomach and frowned, my fingers halting the drumming motion to dig into the table.

“Why are you calling her, Nancy? It isn’t time-“

“I am the one who makes these decisions. Not you.” Her tone was firm, as though I was a child, and she was a parent, disciplining me. I couldn’t help but laugh a little, leaning back in my chair and crossing my arms as I called her out, “Who are you, my mother? I don’t take orders from you. I’m doing this because I want to. Don’t forget, you need me a whole lot more than I need you. You sought me out, not the other way around.”

Her cockiness wavered for a moment before she sucked in a sharp breath, her hand moving to press against her temples as though the conversation was exhausting her.

So dramatic.

“I’m calling her because this was always part of the plan. She’s part of the reason my son is dead, Mickey. My son, my Billy, stabbed her, Sidney caught him off guard, and now he’s gone. You always knew you’d have to kill her, why does it matter if I’m doing this?”

“Because it’s not fucking time.” My voice raised a little, I noticed her recoil slightly at my tone and her hand dropped back to the table, her head tilting a little before her eyes widened in sudden realization.

“Mickey, don’t tell me you’ve come to care for this girl?”

I scoffed again, head falling back with a loud groan, before I looked at her dead on with a hissed, “Don’t be ridiculous. She’s my plaything, you told me to keep myself entertained, that’s exactly what I’m doing. So, leave her alone.”

“No.”

I scowled at her, feeling the anger bubbling in my chest once again. “I’m warning you-“

“No, I’m warning you. I might need you more than you need me, but remember, I can pull the plug on this. I know your past, I know what you’ve fucking done. Those people in your hometown, what you did to your family? I have the receipts of our conversations. I can turn you in, Mickey. Don’t think for a fucking second that I won’t if you don’t get back on board.”

I watched her face for a second, trying to find a bluff in her little speech. I couldn’t, and she knew it. A smug smile lit up her pinched face, and she said softly, “Don’t think you're not replaceable. You are. Get back to being the killer I’m paying you to be.”

I pushed away from the table shortly after that, stepping toward her, so I could bend down to whisper into her ear, “Leave her alone. I’ll kill her, but she’s mine, Nancy. I mean it.” Before turning my back on her and leaving the café, feeling her beady eyes glued to my back as I walked out the door.

Being bossed around like I was a child was beginning to piss me off, I wasn’t her son and I didn’t appreciate her treating me like I was.

Maybe I cared about Dahlia more than I wanted to let on. I knew I was suppressing these feelings, not wanting them to take a hold of me. But saying the words, “I’ll kill her,” out loud sent something unfamiliar and uncomfortable through my chest, something I hadn’t felt before.

I have killed a lot of people. It’s fun, adrenaline induced and manic. Nothing compares to holding someone’s life in your hands and being the one to snatch it away, the sight of watching the light of life leaving someone’s eyes. I always thought of myself as unfeeling, uncaring. I didn’t care about absolutely anyone, but maybe I cared more about her more than I cared about that.

But did that mean I wasn’t going to do this? Absolutely not. Maybe to some extent Nancy was right, I had allowed Dahlia to distract me. I did need to get my focus back on the task at hand, but I didn’t want to stop playing with her, see how far I could take things with her.

It’s all about balance, after all.

My phone buzzed in my back pocket and I grabbed it quickly, expecting to see Dahlia’s name printed across the screen. It took me by surprise to see Randy’s and I halted in the street, pausing in hesitation for just a moment before my thumb pressed on the green button and I spoke into the phone, “Yeah?”

“Mickey, hi. Um, I was wondering if we could talk? It’s about Dahlia.”

“What’s wrong with her?” I asked sharply, turning around to look back at the café.

“No, no, nothing! I just need to talk to you about her, can you meet me outside the library?” Randy spoke quickly, the clear backtrack of his previous words evident, and I let out a small sigh before agreeing to meet him.

It’s not that I hated Randy, as a matter of fact I didn’t really care much about any of them. I’m not a jealous person, I just can’t wrap my head around why Dahlia cares about him as much as she does and needs him as a part of her life so much.

Initially I thought he wanted to fuck her, who wouldn’t? Even before when she was practically a zombie, she was still one of the most beautiful and endearing things I’d ever seen, it was hard to imagine anyone not wanting her. But maybe I was wrong, maybe it really was entirely platonic. Either way, I already hated that she needed anyone else other than me in order to feel whole. I was the one who had fixed her, not fucking Meeks.

As soon as I was back on campus, I walked slowly toward the library, seeing Randy sat perched on the wall, his feet dangling as he sat and waited for me. His head was leaning against the brick as he stared dimly into space, jumping when he suddenly heard my voice, “Okay, Randy. What’s up?“

Randy turned himself around, so he was facing me, a nervous look evident on his face. I couldn’t help but feel a little amused by his anxiety. Was I that intimidating to him? I wasn’t even trying.

“Mickey, I, uh…” He kept trailing off, eyes dropping to his hands and back up to my face every so often, until I finally lost patience and asked him to, “Fucking spit it out.”

“Okay… Look, Dahlia is my best friend, she always has been. I know her better than anyone, and I know she really does care about you for some reason.”

I couldn’t help the small smile that broke across my face when he said that, you had to admire the balls on the kid.

“I promised her that I’d try and get along with you, even though I really don’t know what she sees in you.” I could visibly see the confidence he had in his own words, it was oddly kind of sweet, in a pathetic sort of way.

“I just want to ask you for one thing, please don’t fuck her over, Mickey. She’s been through enough, and I don’t want to see her fall apart again.”

My smile immediately fell, and I frowned at Randy, head tilting to the side as I asked, “You think I would?”

“No, I know you would. I’ve known you longer than she has, I saw how you are with girls. Dahlia is a sweetheart, but sometimes she’s really fucking oblivious to when someone has bad intentions.”

I couldn’t help but laugh as I finally clicked onto what this talk was about, actually having to lean against the wall for support as I managed to get out the words, “Oh, for fuck's sake, Meeks. Is this that if you hurt her, you’ll have me to deal with speech? For God’s sake, man.”

Randy’s face flushed slightly, clearly not liking that this was my reaction to his pitiful attempt of intimidation.

“I’m serious, Mickey.”

“So am I. Come on, Randy. You really think I’m going to fuck her and dump her? I thought we were closer than that by now.”

It was Randy’s turn to scoff at me, and I thought for a second that I really had to do some more work on getting him to like me. Not for any other reason that to make him actually fucking trust me.

“I’m not going to hurt her.” I made sure my tone sounded as genuine as possible, watching as Randy jumped down from the wall and stood in front of me, about as intimidating as a fucking kitten.

“What the hell are you two doing?” Her voice made even me jump, fuck, she was stealthy. I turned around and looked at her, ignoring the slight flutter in my heart as she stopped next to me and I felt the warm, smooth skin of her arm brush against mine.

“Just… Doing what you wanted. Getting along.” Randy’s voice was practically dripping with sarcasm and I don’t know if she noticed and chose to ignore it, but Dahlia smiled so big I thought her face might split. I felt her hand slide into mine, squeezing it gently as if saying thank you before looking at Randy and asking, “Hey, Randy. Are you ready?” To which he nodded his head, eyes dragging away from me and settling on her, expression immediately smoothing out to an obvious affection.

“Ready for what?” I asked her, looking down at her curiously.

“We’re hanging out, it’s obviously been a while.” Randy said, his tone very obviously targeted. Dahlia shot him a look, and he smiled as if in apology.

“No, you’re right. It's been a while since the two of you have hung out, you should.” I told her, my free hand reaching to push a strand of her hair behind her ear before tilting her head up by her chin with my fingers. “I’ve got a lot I need to get done tonight anyway.”

Dahlia smiled at me, that fucking smile that made my stomach flutter and reached up on her toes to press her lips softly against mine, her scent automatically making me unconsciously melt into her.

She really did have some kind of weird hold on me. No matter how much I tried to suppress these feelings, they’d constantly bubble up to the surface. It was unfamiliar, but not necessarily unwelcome. I never thought I’d end up caring even slightly about her, certainly not surpassing my initial fascination with her built-up purely out of boredom and morbid curiosity. I tried to tell myself I was feeling this way because I wasn’t killing, I didn’t have anything to do. Maybe it was true, maybe it wasn’t. But I knew I’d just enjoy whatever I was feeling until I inevitably grew bored with her.

“Can I come by your dorm after?” She asked once she pulled away, and I nodded immediately, eyes briefly flickering to Randy who was uninterested by the entire interaction, focused on his phone before I focused back on her.

“Of course, I’ll be waiting.” I confirmed, letting go of her hand in favour of cupping her face, pulling her back to me, so I could kiss her again. It was like I physically couldn’t stop myself from touching her, it was an unconscious reflex.

I felt her breath hitch, felt her heartbeat drumming against my own chest as her fingers gripped my shirt tightly. If I could have, I would have fucked her there and then, in front of Randy, in front of half the student body. I wanted to. To prove that she was mine, whether she was just my plaything or not. But I didn’t, regardless of the fact that I wanted to, I wanted to wait. Instead, I let her go, watching as she and Randy began to walk away toward the exit of the campus.

As I watched Dahlia walk away, her head falling back and hearing her laugh loudly at something Randy had said, playfully pushing at his shoulder, my mind raced back to how I felt about her. I’d dated girls before. A lot. I knew I had a reputation, it never bothered me, and it still didn’t. But serious relationships? I’d only been in one before. Lexi.

Lexi was a girl I’d dated back in my hometown during my final year of high school. She was the opposite of Dahlia, Latina with thick black hair and a confidence that was almost overwhelming, but beautiful. Not as beautiful as Dahlia, but stunning all the same. We’d ended things on bad terms after a particularly awful argument after sex. I did and said some things that any ordinary person would see as just awful, to me, it was pretty regular and mundane. She’d told me, all dramatic, that she’d make sure no girl ever went through what I’d put her through. I hadn’t thought about Lexi in a while, but for some reason, the fight we’d had the last time I’d seen her kept poking and prodding around the corners of my mind.

I didn’t love Lexi. Thinking back, I don’t think I ever cared about her at all. As I watched Dahlia slowly disappear, my mind shifted back to her and I realized I’d never want to treat her the way I treated Lexi, but what if I simply couldn’t help myself? I didn’t care about anyone, why was this girl that was just supposed to be someone I could use to entertain myself having such an effect on me?

Once they were out of sight, I shook my head out, sinking against the steps of the library and resting my head against the cool brick.

I thought about what Nancy had said about Dahlia distracting me. I really didn’t want to be off my game. Would the bitch really turn me in? I didn’t want to be caught until I was damn good and ready, but even now I couldn’t help the one nagging thought that repeatedly began swirling through my mind.

When I went through with this, after they were all dead, if I didn’t end up going through with killing Dahlia, would she ever forgive me?

[mrsaltieri-real]

His Perfect Victim (Mickey Altieri X OC!Dahlia Levine)

Chapter Seventeen: Three Little Words

Words: 4.7k

Warnings: language, angst, smut, first time, fingering, multiple orgasm, teasing, praise, dirty talk, riding, spit, biting, nipple play, arguing, gaslighting, a little fluff.

A/N: WE’RE FINALLY HERE FOLKS! The long awaited smut chapter, but with a twist at the end. This one has feeling, I felt so much writing it. Next few chapters are going to be rather intense, after that it’s borderline smut and then we’re pretty much at the end! Can’t believe how fast this is going but it’s just so much fun! Let me know what you guys think and I hope you enjoy!

Thank you to @bisexual-horror-fan for editing and beta reading. You’re really my rock and are helping me get through this so much! I wouldn’t have gotten this far if it wasn’t for your constant encouragement and help!

@lizey-thornberry

(Here’s a moodboard for Dahlia I made a while back that I completely forgot about!)

Campus was almost completely deserted, most people had gone to visit their families at the end of the semester. Randy offered again for me to go with him, saying his parents wouldn’t mind if I wanted to stay, but I told him no, there were things I needed to sort out here.

I’d been avoiding Mickey like he was the fucking plague, and he’d noticed fairly quickly.

I’d cancel plans, tell him I was under the weather, which wasn’t really a lie. Not only that, but I felt sick to my fucking stomach every time I thought about talking to him, having to undoubtedly lie to his face.

Lexi’s words played on my mind nonstop. “He isn't okay, there’s something dark about him, be careful.” It was driving me crazy. When I did see him, I found myself cautious and on edge for weeks. The sinking feeling was coming back and this time, it was more painful than ever.

The feeling that something bad was coming was one I could not shake. Every time he looked at me, I could tell he knew something was wrong, and I knew it bothered him that whenever he asked I would tell him it was nothing, I was just tired, I’d just had a long and busy day. It didn’t help that the few weeks till the next semester had raced to an end, and I’d hardly spoken to him.

About a month into break, my door was practically being hammered off its hinges and I groaned, mumbling out, “Fuck off,” at the noise, pulling my blanket over my head, but it didn’t stop, just grew angrier and more persistent. I forced myself out of bed and dragged myself to the door, pulling it open ready to shout at whoever it was.

Mickey looked furious. Angrier than I’d ever seen him before.

“So, you met Lexi?” He all but spat the words, glaring down at me.

I froze, still half asleep and a little dazed. His eyes were on fire, his hand gripping the door frame so hard it’s a wonder he didn’t splinter the wood.

“I don’t-“

“Don’t fucking lie to me, Dahlia.” His voice was sharp, instantly waking me up, and I took him in properly. I’d never seen this in him before. His eyes were burning, his jaw set rigid and tight as his stare blazed down at me. Mickey was always tall, but now it felt he was towering ten feet above me, and it took everything inside of me to not cower away like a kicked dog.

How the hell could he possibly know?

I asked him as much, voice small and my eyes refusing to meet him. He held a small piece of paper up to me as he walked past me into my dorm before snatching it away before I could see what it said.

“I got a note under my door this morning. What the hell is wrong with you?”

This caught my attention. My head snapped in his direction and I felt myself getting angry with him. “What’s wrong with me? Maybe I should be the one asking you that.”

He scoffed, turning on his heel to face me. “And what the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

I bit the inside of my cheek, glaring back at him with my arms tightly crossed across my chest.

“Oh, did she tell you some things about me? What an awful, awful person I am? How much I ruined her life? Did it never occur to you that she’s nothing more than a spiteful bitch who wants nothing more than to ruin whatever happiness I have because I couldn’t find it with her?” I could see his anger gradually begin to fade and twist into something different, something I couldn’t quite put my finger on.

“She just…” I trailed off. Looking at him now, looking at Mickey, made me feel different. He looked almost sad, but that sadness was something I’d later find out to be nothing but a show. He knew he was a bad person, and he knew what he’d done. “-told me to be careful.”

His brow furrowed in confusion before he sighed, walking past me and sitting down on my bed, putting his head in his hands. “Right. I’m sure she did.”

Something in my mind told me to protect her, not tell him what was really said. That thought came too late, but I decided to attempt altering the truth. Not just for Lexi, not just for me, but for him too. I had to do the one thing I hated doing most in the world. I had to lie.

“I didn’t listen to her.” I said as smoothly as I could. “I know you. You’re a good person, Mickey.”

“Why did she come? How did she find you?”

“I didn’t ask.” I lied again, moving to kneel in front of him. His hands were shaking, I took them gently in mine. He felt ice-cold and burning hot at the same time. “I just told her to leave.” I didn’t see the point in mentioning this Debbie person to him. What would it achieve? It would just give Mickey another person to be angry about, and seeing him angry sent a cold feeling of dread crawling across my skin.

“Fuck, you don’t actually expect me to believe that, do you? My ex-girlfriend knocks on your fucking door, and you just told her to leave? Don’t treat me like I’m that fucking stupid.”

The venom in his voice would have made me flinch a year ago. But now, it just pissed me off.

“Oh, right! Yes. My mistake, Mickey. I forgot everything fucking revolves around you! Jesus Christ, what the hell is your problem?” I shouted the words at him bitterly, moving to my feet. This time, I was looking down at him, my hands curled into fists and my nails biting into my palms.

“I fucking-“ Mickey cut himself off, and I could see in his face he was trying to search for the right words, “It wasn’t a good relationship, Dahlia. But I’m not that person anymore. So whether you talked to her or not, don’t tell me. I could give less of a shit. But if you did, that guy she told you about wasn’t me.”

I didn’t say anything. I crossed my arms across my chest, turning my head to focus my glare out of my window.

“What? What are you thinking?” He asked. I could feel him staring at the side of my face intently, but I ignored his gaze.

“That now you’re lying to me.”

I felt his eyes boring into me further, but I continued to ignore it, focusing on the soft waving of a tree branch outside instead. It kept me grounded and calm, making it easier to have this conversation with him.

“I have never hurt you, Dahlia.” His voice was too calm, it unsettled me.

“Yeah, you did. When I didn’t kiss you at that party, and you fucked that girl right in front of me-“

“Oh, you’ve got to be fucking kidding me!” He shouted this time, throwing his hands in the air, making me jump and my arms curl around myself, focusing more intently on the tree branch eyebrows creased with worry while I fought the urge to close my eyes and shy away from him.

“That was practically a year ago, Dahlia! We weren’t dating, fuck, we weren’t even friends!”

“I know but I- I fucking… Cared.” I struggled with my words, still not wanting to look at him. I knew if I did, I would break. “I wasn’t okay back then. In a lot of ways, I’m still not. You were the first real person I’d met here, and it just showed me that if I even upset you the slightest bit, you can just turn, Mickey! I’m terrified every single day that we’ll fight, and you’ll do something like that again! I wouldn’t be able to handle it, Mickey!”

“You’re… You’re scared of me?” His voice was smaller, pretty much unfamiliar. If he wasn’t sitting right in front of me, I would have assumed it wasn’t him speaking at all.

The words were hard to put together, they felt heavy and difficult on my tongue, but I told him with surprising clarity and confidence, “No, I’m not scared of you. I’m scared of the things you could do.”

“Dahlia, you’re talking like I cheated on you or something. I didn’t. Okay, I admit, I was trying to get a rise outta you and yes, I did just want to see how far I could push you but… Dahli, I don’t think you know just how much I care about you.”

His words were so intense, so real, I could feel tears stinging my eyes and threaten to spill. I squeezed my eyes shut, shaking my head and sniffled once. “Come here.” He said, voice softening.

“No.” I don’t say it with any conviction whatsoever.

He laughed once, standing up and walking to me. I felt his hand circle my wrist and pull me to his chest, his arms wrapping around my waist like a vice. I buried my face into his chest, fingers clinging to the soft material of his grey sweatshirt.

“You mean everything to me.” I mumbled into the material, unable to stop myself.

He pulled back just a touch to look down at my face, the smile I loved creeping onto his face. His eyes met mine and I could instantly tell he believed me.

“Really?” He asked. I could see the hint of hesitation in his eyes. It made me smile. I always saw Mickey as a confident person but maybe in his own way, he was insecure too. I watched the relief on his face as I nodded my head.

“I’m sorry for coming in like that. You just… You’ve hardly spoken to me in weeks, and when you do, it’s like your mind is somewhere else entirely. Then I found out about Lexi and I just.. just made an assumption. I’m sorry, baby.” He spoke softly, much more sweet, calm but not unjustly so. It fits the current moment much more.

The thing is, I wasn’t nearly as convincing as I thought. Mickey knew I was lying. I found out a few years later that Lexi Castro had been reported missing in mind to late 1997. The dates added up to when she’d come to Windsor and warned me off of Mickey, and it explained why I never heard from her again, especially after… Everything.

“It’s okay, baby.” My hand cupped his cheek, my thumb gently grazing under his eye. “Mickey, you know there isn’t anything you could do to scare me away, right?”

He scoffed, lips turning up a little for a second as he placed his hand over mine, our fingers twisting together as he pulled me back toward my bed and sat down. “Don’t say things you don’t mean.”

What surprised me is that I wasn’t trying to convince him of it. Regardless of what Lexi had told me, I wasn’t scared of him. Not my Mickey. His rapid change from furious to loving was enough to give anyone whiplash. Maybe I was still so broken inside I genuinely couldn’t tell that he wasn’t a good person. Or maybe I knew, but I simply didn’t care. One of the things I learned during my relationship with Mickey is that love can make you really fucking stupid.

“I’ve been thinking about Stu a lot lately.” I told him, trying to change the subject away from Lexi as swiftly as I could. “Wondering why he did what he did. Then I realized, he cared for Billy so much he would’ve and did anything for him, even the very worst thing you could possibly do.”

Mickey looked confused as I spoke, watching as I stood up and straddled him, my hands gently touching the base of his neck. “I couldn’t imagine caring about somebody like that, not before. Then I realized I would do anything for you.”

His face entirely softened, his finger grazing my healed over scar once before his hands settled on my waist.

“He told me once to wait for the right person because when I do, it’ll be worth it. I never thought I would meet anyone, that I was being stupid by putting it off.”

“Dahl, what are you-“ I placed my hand over his mouth quickly, shaking my head.

“I want to.” I insisted, taking my hand away from his mouth and pressing my lips against his instead.

I could feel his hesitation through his kiss, almost as though he wasn’t quite sure what to do with himself. His hands gripped my upper arms, keeping me at somewhat of a distance. “Are you trying to change the subject?”

“Depends on if it’s working.” I said with a half smile. I felt his grip relax, allowing me to pull myself closer to him, my hand locking behind his neck.

He really was beautiful. He seemed more keen now, hands gripping my ass and making me roll my hips down against him. The sensation made me let out a small moan into his mouth, which only prompted him to do it again. His lips were soft, careful. Too careful. I couldn’t help but think of how Lexi had described him. Intense, angry, violent. With how tender and gentle he was being, it was hard to imagine him being that way with anybody.

I needed this, I needed him. I pressed myself closer to him, fingers twisting in his hair and he chucked against my lips, hands sliding up my shirt and his fingers dancing across my back. So gentle. But I didn’t fucking want gentle.

“I’m not glass.” I mumbled, pulling back just slightly. He cocked an eyebrow at me, brown eyes curious before he said gently, “Dahli, it’s your first time. Don’t worry, I’ve got all the time in the world to fuck you like a whore.”

His words made me blush, which he relished deeply. He looked proud of himself, moving his fingers to my face to touch my pink cheeks. “Mm.” He murmured under his breath. I didn’t bother to ask him what.

I kissed him again, not pulling away this time. It was like I couldn’t.

My first time with Mickey was indescribable. It didn’t hurt anywhere near as much as I had built up in my head over the years, but that was due to him. He was so careful and so gentle with me, but not because he thought I’d break. I was still prone to panic attacks, so when he looked into my eyes, when he told me that I was beautiful as he pulled me under him, he was all I could focus on. How he looked, how he smelt, how he felt.

His fingers worked over me for a while, his lips dancing from my lips to my cheeks to my throat as he prepared me. He smiled his dimpled smile as he touched my bare pussy, and I jolted as he made a comment about how ready I was for him that turned me on to no end. I was. I don’t know if the fight had simply turned me on, or if it all just genuinely felt right, but I didn’t care. I could feel him against my bare thigh, so hot and hard.

It just made me fucking hungry for him.

I tugged impatiently at his pants, making him scoff affectionately as he helped me tug them off. “Are you sure?” He asked me for the final time.

“I am so sure.” I said softly, moving my hand up to cup his cheek.

“How bad do you want it?” He asked. His fingers continued circling my clit, determined to make me as wet as possible. I writhed beneath him, pushing myself against the pads of his fingers pathetically, practically preening as I felt them plunge inside of me and begin to curl gently. “Tell me how bad you want it, Dahlia.”

“S-so bad. So fucking bad. Please…” I whined, I begged, already a squirming mess under his skilled hands. He removed his fingers from my hole, forcing them into my mouth and ordered me to, “Suck,” to which I obeyed, tasting myself and sucking my slickness off of his long fingers. He watched my face as I did, favouring my lips as I suckled and swirled my tongue around his digits, looking him in the eye.

“Mm. You taste good, don’t you, honey?” He asked, dragging his fingers away from my tongue to smear my own saliva and wetness across my lips and chin. I sucked in the air, unable to look away from his eyes.

“Not as good as you.”

Mickey rolled his eyes affectionately, pulling me under him more securely. He reached between our bodies, pumping his cock a few times before he settled it gently in my throbbing hole.

He pushed himself into me slowly, carefully watching my face as I flinched and adjusted myself, working past the initial uncomfortableness. I could see that his expression didn’t really change at my pain, more that he somewhat revelled in it, but I didn’t let my mind play on that. Once it subdued, it quickly started to feel good. Really fucking good. My eyes fluttered closed, and I arched my back off the bed as his hand slid down my body, his fingertips lingering for just a moment over my scar to toy with my clit as he carefully rolled his hips.

“So fucking tight, Jesus.” He groaned under his breath, his head dropping to kiss my shoulder. I gasped in response as his hips snapped a touch harder, his fingers adding more pressure onto my clit. His other hand was roaming, palming my bare tit and twisting my nipples gently. “This is the only cock you’re ever going to have, understand?” I moaned, nodding dumbly and tugged at his hair with my fingers. I needed more. I needed him to really fuck me.

He ducked his head, teeth sinking into my nipple sharply. I felt my body twitch, the feeling sending a shoot of arousal straight to my pussy as I gasped when he pulled away. I felt my cunt clench around him as I let out a whimper into his ear, my legs wrapping around his waist securely, pulling my body impossibly closer to his as I pushed myself against him, my nails digging into his toned back and making him groan softly and begin to fuck me a little harder, registering I was more comfortable.

I knew Mickey was good. Too good. We’d done pretty much everything else before, but this was something else entirely. So much more intimate, and I’d never felt closer to anybody in my life. I felt so beautifully full, I’d never felt this stretched to capacity and content before, like he was a missing piece of me, and he’d snapped the final part of the puzzle into place.

I felt complete.

He lifted his head to look at me, his hand moving to grip my hair tightly, forcing me to look into his eyes. “Such a good girl, aren’t you? Taking me so, so well in your nasty little virgin cunt.” He praised me, degraded me, bending to kiss my lips again, to which I eagerly returned. It was a mess of spit and tongues and teeth, moans and sighs, but I never wanted this to stop.

I couldn’t help myself, I splayed my hand on his chest, pushing him onto his back and straddling him, connecting my lips with his as soon as I was on top of him. It took him by surprise, a muffled laugh falling from him as he let out a soft grunt, his arms wrapping around my waist. His fingers dug into my hips before he dragged them to my ass, squeezing the flesh harshly as he began to slowly thrust up into me. I placed mine onto his shoulders, steadying myself on top of him. Fuck, I could really feel him like this. I tentatively ground my hips down, hearing and soaking in the gentle groans falling from his lips as he watched me on top of him before his eye fell to my face again.

I slid my hands to his chest, my nails digging into his soft skin as our movements synchronized. I could feel him throbbing, achingly hard inside of me as my cunt clenched around him, wanting nothing more than to feel him finally cum inside of me. He was like a drug, I couldn’t get enough of him.

Mickey easily switched me back beneath him again, pushing his hand on my inner thigh to already my legs wider for him. “This is for you, not for me.” He insisted as I opened my mouth to dispute the change. I shut my mouth, fingers trailing his jaw as I watched him work over me. From the stories I’d heard about him, I assumed for the longest time that although spectacular at fucking, he was always quite selfish. I wasn’t picking up on that at all.

His hipbone was rubbing against my clit and I could feel the burning sensation in my stomach begin to boil. It felt better than I could have imagined, the combination of my clit being stimulated at his cock making me clench around him with every push, every thrust sent me into an orgasm so intense, he had to pin my body down by my hip. My back arched off the bed as I cried out his name, teeth biting into the flesh of his shoulder, which made him curse softly and his cock twitch.

There wasn’t much talking, I think we were both too lost in the moment. He fucked me through my orgasm, his pace picking up considerably. I knew he was close, that he was holding out for me. He’d told me countless times that when he fucked me for the first time, he was going to ensure that I had, cum all over his cock more times than I could handle, and the thought had made me both embarrassed and unbearably horny. But I didn’t care, I wanted to feel him cum. I craved it intensely.

“Want you to cum.” I gasped out and Mickey looked down at me again, that devastating smile on his face mixed with nothing short of contempt.

“You do?” He asked, voice teasing and light, albeit a little shaky. He was holding back, not wanting to until he’d lived up to his promise. “Now? Why?”

“I want to feel it.” I could hear that my voice sounded a little whiny, but I didn’t care, desperately pulling my body as close to his as I could. At that point, he was practically lifting me up, my ass hardly touching the soft mattress. There was nothing I wanted more than to feel Mickey’s cum cost me from the inside, feel his hot mess completely claim me as his and his alone.

“Oh, you want to feel me cum inside you, is that it? Dirty bitch, you want me to mark my territory?” He bit down on my neck, making me hiss softly, the feeling sending a spasm of arousal to my already hungry cunt before his tongue lapped over the crescent teeth marks he left behind. “Mark my territory, hm?” His voice didn’t have any humour, it was dripping with arousal, just like his eyes. I couldn’t reply, I just mumbled something dumbly at him, focused on his words and now fucking good he was making me feel. When I opened my eyes, he was looking at me like I was a slut, a piece of meat. And I really fucking liked it.

That was until a few minutes later, when I said the most stupid thing you could possibly imagine.

I could feel his cock pulsing and throbbing erratically, could feel the now familiar butterflies begin to flutter in my stomach. I could feel that he was close, his breathing had become more unsteady, his hips began to stutter slightly and his grip on my waist became so tight I had no doubt it would leave bruises. He began fucking me slow and deep, his forehead pressed against mine and so completely connected with him being so passionate, it just felt right.

He moved to kiss me again, so gently and carefully, and when he pulled back I said those three little words. Those three stupid fucking words.

“I- I love you.” I moaned, surely enough, looking into his soft brown eyes.

And what did Mickey say? Absolutely nothing.

He acted as though he didn’t hear it, but I had no doubt that he did. He’d paused for a split second, not looking at me but more at the space above my head before his hand moved toward the back of my knee, pulling it up and sending a new sensation through my body as he began to touch a new place I didn’t know existed, the head of his cock pushing firmly on the spongy tissue again and again, building up a harder and faster rhythm than before, burying his face into my neck. Not only that, but he began kissing it gently as he rhythmically rolled his hips. As good as he felt, I could help a stray tear from falling as I registered what I’d said to him during the most vulnerable state I could have possibly been in, and the fact he couldn’t return it.

He fucked me, he made me cum again at the same time he did. The feeling of him filling me, coating my walls, branding me and his before I felt him leaking out of my cunt was hot, it was satisfying in a way I could begin to describe but at the same time, it didn’t feel right at all.

He didn’t say anything.

I felt stupid, unbelievably embarrassed. I could hardly look at him as he pulled out of me and fell onto his back with a sigh, his eyes focused on the ceiling. I just wrapped myself into my blanket, rolled onto my side and squeezed my eyes closed.

Why did I say it, why did I say it, why did I say it?

Of all times to tell someone you love them for the first time, I couldn’t have picked a worse moment.

“I, uh, I have to-“

“No, yeah. Go.” I managed to keep my voice even, surprising myself. I felt him stand up from the bed, and heard the rustling of his clothes as he got dressed before he headed for my bathroom. I lay there, wanting the ground to open up and swallow me whole.

He emerged a few minutes later with a towel and a glass of water, placing the glass on my bedside table and the towel beside me. He squatted down, placing his hand on my face.

I didn’t look at him. I couldn’t. I focused on watching the condensation drip down the outside of the glass as I could feel Mickey pondering on what he should say.

“I do… You know.” He said softly, pushing my hair out of my face. I saw from the corner of my eye that he immediately frowned when he felt the moisture on his fingers, and he sighed deeply, his eyes closing for a few seconds before opening again. “I just… I can’t say it back. I’ve never said… That to anybody before.”

“It’s fine, Mickey.” I mumbled. I wasn’t angry that he didn’t say it back, I was angry that I had said it before either of us were ready. I knew how I felt about him, but it wasn’t the time or place. And him not being able to say it back made me feel painfully aware that he and I may not be in the same place in our relationship.

That is what hurts.

“Maybe one day I’ll be able to tell you.”

I didn’t reply, closing my eyes tightly. He took that as his cue, leaning forward and kissing my hairline softly. He lingered a little longer than necessary, almost making me open my eyes to check he was okay, before he pulled back sharply, straightening up and leaving my room without saying goodbye.

Maybe one day I’ll be able to tell you.

[mrsaltieri-real]

His Perfect Victim (Mickey Altieri x OC!Dahlia Levine)

Chapter Sixteen: Lexi

Words: 3.2k

Warning/s: langauge, a lot of angst, past relationship trauma, mentions of sex and violence, mentions of pre-killer Mickey, relationship doubt, toxic relationships, Dahlia being lowkey gay for Mickey’s ex, etc

A/N: This was really intense to write. It’s a very important chapter though so I hope you guys enjoy! Goes into Mickey’s past a little more and makes Dahlia doubt a LOT. Thank you to @bisexual-horror-fan for beta reading and editing this for me! So much love!

Also, if anybody is interested to know the dynamic between Lexi and Mickey, I wrote a reader x mickey one shot a while back which is literally them. I’ll tag it. Raw (Mickey Altieri)

@lizey-thornberry

⬇️For reference, Lexi’s face claim is Alexa Demie⬇️

Well, this is fucking awkward.

I sat at the table, fingers drumming the stained wood anxiously. Lexi smiled at me, looking a little bashful as she sat herself in front of me.

“Do you, uh, want a drink or something?” I asked, quickly getting to my feet.

“Oh, uhm, yeah, water would be great?” She replied, smiling up at me. She didn’t seem anxious or concerned at all, rather the opposite. Not only that, but she seemed completely at ease, and it was making me a little uncomfortable.

But God, she was breathtaking.

I hummed to myself as I walked toward my sink, grabbing a glass and shakily filling it up with water.

Come on, Dahlia. Calm down.

“Thank you, Dahlia. I’ll get right to it. If that’s okay with you?” She asked as I handed her the glass of water and sat back down in front of her. All I could do was bob my head once.

My boyfriend's ex was here, across from me in my dorm room. I didn’t know what to do with myself. I felt too awkward to make eye contact with her. She was stunning. Intimidatingly beautiful. My insecurities were sneaking up on me rapidly and there was no holding them at bay. Every move she made, every flick of her hair and elegant movement, caused me to feel more and more self-aware.

She had a gracefulness about her, so much confidence radiated from every pore that just being in the same room as her was overwhelming. She tucked ran a hand through her long, black hair, sweeping it over her shoulder before dropping her hand to the table, her elegant and manicured fingers drumming lightly on wood.

Why the hell would Mickey break up with her? She was fucking perfect.

“How long have you been dating Mickey?” Lexi asked me after she took a sip of water.

���Eight months. Can I ask, I’m sorry, why are you here?” I asked my question tentatively, still not looking the stunning girl in the eye.

“I, uh…” She let out a sigh, placing the glass back down on the table. “I made a promise to myself that if Mickey ever got serious with somebody, I’d warn them.”

I stared at the woman like she’d grown two heads, my eyebrows raising as I asked, “I’m sorry, you’d warn them?”

What the hell was there to warn me about? Mickey was nothing short of a gentleman with me. Never pushed me to do anything I wasn’t comfortable with, always made sure I was okay. What could she possibly be worried he’d do to me?

“Look, Mickey can be… Intense. I just thought I should let you know, give you a heads-up, you know? I wouldn’t want anyone to go through what I went through with him and-“

“I’m sorry,” I shook my head, finally making eye contact with her. “What you went through with him? How do you even know who I am? That I’m dating him?” The questions came bubbling out before she could even attempt to answer, the stress of the situation beginning to hit me at full speed. I didn’t like this at all.

She smiled halfheartedly at me, shrugging slightly as she answered only my second question. “Everyone knows who you are, Dahlia. Everyone knows what happened to you and your friends in California last year.”

Her big brown eyes were sympathetic and didn’t have a shred of ill intent behind them. Maybe she was good at masking, maybe she was genuine.

“Okay, but how do you know I’m dating him?”

“I received a phone call a few months ago. Some woman named Debbie?” She looked at me, as if she was expecting some realization to cross over my face.

Debbie? I didn’t know anyone named Debbie.

She seemed to pick up on the fact that I had no idea who she was talking about and carried on, “Well, she told me that she was looking out for you, that you were dating Mickey, and she was worried. I don’t know how she got my cell or even knew who I was. But I felt obligated to come down here and tell you some things about him.”

The way she said that word, “him”, it had some venomous undertones that I couldn’t ignore. It actually made me flinch to hear it. Mickey is a cocky asshole, sure. He could behave like a dick. But he was a college student in his 20s, how bad could he have been when he was in high school?

This felt wrong, like I was somehow betraying him and his trust. I shifted uncomfortably in my seat as Lexi continued to talk.

“Mickey has always been… Complicated. I dated him for over a year and I never met his family, he didn’t really seem to have many friends. He was eighteen and lived in an apartment all alone, which struck me as odd because we were still in high school, but he just said some crap about his family not being around. He was sweet at first, tentative and caring. But sometimes he’d act… Different.”

“Different?” I asked anxiously. My fingers twitched for my ring, but I ignored it.

“He’d be on some weird kind of edge for days on end and then completely disappear for others. He’d come back, and he’d have this weird wildness to him that I can't explain. It was like he was on some kind of high or something.” Lexi watched my face drop, and she leaned forward, shaking her head quickly.

“He was never violent with me. Well, not in that way anyway.”

“Not in that way?” I asked, eyebrows furrowing.

“Sometimes when we’d have… Sex, he’d go a little overboard.”

I didn’t flinch away from the comment. I was insecure, but I wasn’t insecure enough to feel bad about Mickey sleeping with an ex-girlfriend. But I did however feel uneasy about the way she spoke. Her face screwed up slightly as she relived some memory, and she shuddered delicately.

“You don’t have to tell me, Lexi.”

“I think I do. I won’t go into the details, but Mickey is dark. Darker than he’ll let on. Don’t get me wrong, he never forced me to do anything.” She said the last part quickly when she took in my expression. “It’s just… I don’t know you and you don’t know me, but just be careful, Dahlia. There’s something off with him, trust me.”

“Why would I trust you? I don’t know you. You’re some chick who dated my boyfriend and came to my door and started telling me to, what, dump him?” I couldn’t hold back the scoff. I felt a sudden wave of protection over him, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that she was being genuine.

I hated that. I hated that I was doubting my trust in the man who’d saved me from myself.

“Mickey hasn’t done anything to me.”

“Really? Nothing at all you can think of?” I pursed my lips like a fucking child, and she leaned back in her seat, crossing her arms across her chest. “Dahlia, I promise you this isn’t some weird ex-girlfriend shit, okay? Trust me, there is something wrong with him.”

“Trust you? I don’t know you!” I threw my hands up, letting them fall back down onto the table with a loud thud.

“Look, I get how weird this is, okay? I just… You’ve been through a lot and I promise you, he’s just going to make things worse. It’s not in him to help people, not really. Not unless there’s something in it for him.”

“Mickey wouldn’t do anything to hurt me.” My voice was stern, I couldn’t help how defensive I was feeling over him.

“Really? So he’s never done anything in an attempt to hurt or upset you?”

I hesitated, teeth sinking into my bottom lip and my gaze averting from her. He had. My mind flooded back to the party, that stupid party. We talked, we laughed, we bonded, but then he tried to kiss me and I rejected him. He immediately got angry, defensive and proceeded to trick me into walking into Sidney’s bedroom where he fucked a girl right in front of me.

With how well things were going, I’d all but forgotten about that night, as well as how much of an asshole he was. I wasn’t stupid, I know people didn’t change so rapidly in the way that he had. Was it all a trick? Was Mickey that good of an actor? Had all the movies and television shows he loves watching so much made him talented at hiding who he really was?

“That’s what I thought.” Lexi crossed her arms, leaning back in her seat. “Listen to me, Dahlia. He is not okay. It’s all a fucking act, okay? He’ll be the person you want him to be until he gets what he wants. It’s like he doesn’t even realize he’s doing it.”

“And what does he want?” My voice was small, and I still couldn’t look her in the eye.

“What do most guys want?” Her body language altered slightly before she cleared her throat and asked, “Have you…”

My eyes met hers for a moment and I shook my head. “No.”

“Then it isn’t too late.”

I scoffed, unable to stop myself from rolling my eyes at her.

“Not too late? What, is he going to fuck me to death?“I could taste the acrid bitterness of my words as I spat them out to her, my hands bunching up into fists.

“He’s just something else when it comes to it. Don’t get me wrong, sometimes it’s fun, but it’s like he can’t help himself, like when he’s in the moment that mask just slips away for a while. It’s one of the many, many reasons he and I broke up. I know he never meant to, I think in a lot of ways he didn’t realize what he was doing, you know? We were young and stupid and inexperienced. But I just couldn’t live with myself if I didn’t warn you.”

“The only thing Mickey said is that things had ended badly between you two.”

Lexi surprised me by laughing, a genuine laugh and her head thrown back. “That’s what he said? If you consider him nearly killing me then yeah, it ended ‘badly’, sure!”

I felt a strange shudder go down my spine, goosebumps beginning to rise on my arms. “What?”

She stopped laughing, a small smile still toying on her lips as she leaned forward, as if she was worried someone would overhear her.

“There’s kinky, then there’s him. It wasn’t on purpose, he just gets…” She paused for a second as if she were trying to find the right words before settling on, “Lost in it. You just need to be careful with him. I’m not saying break up with him or anything, that’s not what this is. He’s just not right.”

“You keep saying that yet you won’t go into specifics.” I argued. As she looked at me, I could tell she’d noticed the slight waver in my body language, how on edge I was becoming. I did my best to mask it, but to no avail.

“So what, you don’t believe me?” Her tone wasn’t accusatory, more sad than anything. I could see the genuine worry and concern she had for me, some girl she didn’t even know. It was disconcerting as Hell and made the doubt in my mind gradually become more and more overwhelming.

“It’s not that I don’t believe you. I don’t know you. But I know him. He’s not the same stupid eighteen-year-old high schooler that you loved.”

“He never loved me, Dahlia. I don’t even think he’s even capable of it.”

Lexi shook her head. I could see in her face that she’d admitted defeat, and I didn’t blame her. I was so infatuated with him, I really don’t think there’s anything she could have said at that moment.

Looking back at it now, I didn’t deal with the Lexi thing in the right way. She told me all these things about Mickey, but I’d made the decision to repress and ignore because that’s the only way I could deal with it. I couldn’t believe for a second that Mickey would’ve hurt me. Surprisingly, I was right. He didn’t set out to hurt me in the end, but that’s exactly what he did.

“Look, I can’t stick around to change your mind, I don’t want to bump into him, but-“ Lexi grabbed her purse, pulling out a small piece of paper and a pen before she scribbled down a phone number with an L above it and stood up from the seat, “- Call me if you need me, okay? I know you don’t know me, but I don’t want anyone to go through what I did with Mickey.”

I looked at her beautiful face for a second before my eyes dropped to the paper she held outstretched to me in her hand. Furthermore, I hesitated for a moment before taking it, feeling a weird sense of betrayal the moment my fingers closed around the paper.

“I should go.” She walked toward the door, pausing for a minute to turn and look at me again. “You seem like a sweet girl, I get what he sees in you. Good luck, Dahlia.”

In Lexi’s eyes, I could see that she wanted to say something else, but she decided not to.

The moment she left, I let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding and wrapped my arms around myself.

Mickey’s ex-girlfriend making the effort to track me down after receiving a phone call from some chick named Debbie was naturally not sitting right with me, not at all. I felt the same wave of unease flutter over me, and I shivered as I stared toward the door after her, unsure of what I was going to tell Mickey.

I couldn’t tell him that his ex dropped by, that would be weird. But at the same time, didn’t he have the right to know? Wouldn’t that be a good way to know if he was hiding something?

I pulled my phone out of my jacket pocket, scrolling through my contacts until I found his name. My finger hesitated over the call button before I sighed, dropping my phone onto the table with a clatter.

If I wasn’t worried, if I had complete trust in him, why was the thought of telling him about this making me feel like I wanted to throw up?

The sound of my phone vibrating made me jump, “Jesus Christ,” I muttered before picking it up, seeing Mickey’s name printed across the small screen.

Another moment of hesitation before I tentatively answered, clearing my throat before speaking.

“Hello?”

“Hey, Dahli, sorry about earlier, you caught me at a bad time. I didn’t mean to be rude.” He sounded a little breathless, the strange excitement Lexi had described evident in his tone.

“No, it’s fine.” I tried keeping my voice even, not wanting him to catch on that something was wrong. I knew that conversation would be a headache, and over the phone wasn’t the right time to talk.

“Are you alright? You sound weird.” Mickey’s voice changed, a suspicious edge lingering in his words. Fuck, he knew me too well.

“No, no, I’m fine. Sorry, was just about to, uh, take a shower when you called.” I was a terrible liar but lucky for me, Mickey seemed too lost in his own distractions to notice.

“Are you sure?”

“Mmm.” I rolled my eyes at myself before clearing my throat again. “Yeah, I’m sure. I just miss you, you know?”

“I miss you too.” His voice changed again, back to the somewhat giddy undertone. I couldn’t help but wonder why he seemed to be in such a good mood. “I wanted to call and tell you that I’ve done what I needed to do quicker than I expected, so I’m on my way home. I’ll be about an hour, I’ll come by your dorm?”

I glanced at the door and down to the piece of paper with Lexi’s phone number on my table. I had an hour to get myself together because I had no doubt he’d see past my feeble attempts of lying.

“Yeah, that sounds great! I’ll see you soon.” I tried to make my voice light and enthusiastic, and clearly must’ve been at least halfway convincing enough because the phone call ended happily enough.

As I stepped into the shower, it did the opposite of what I wanted it to. I didn’t feel relaxed, I felt even worse. The hot water was doing a shit job at relaxing my tense muscles, it was like the burning water turned ice-cold the moment it made contact with my skin.

No way could I tell him about Lexi. I didn’t know everything about him, but I knew Mickey well enough to know how angry he’d be that she had tracked me down.

There were too many mysteries and confusions surrounding her arrival. How did she know where my dorm was? How did she know I was in a serious relationship with Mickey? Did he hurt her? Would he really hurt me? What if I’d been ignoring the screaming red flags because I needed him so badly?

He brought me back to life. When I came to Windsor, I was an emotionless wreck, a shell of a person who was just surviving rather than living. But he… He built me back up again. In my head, I couldn’t imagine the person Lexi described him to be when he was eighteen. But maybe I’d been completely blinded because of how much I loved him.

I loved Mickey. I knew I loved Mickey, and it was truly terrifying. I couldn’t even fathom the idea that he could hurt anyone, it just wasn’t him. But maybe I didn’t know him as well as I thought I did, maybe none of us did. He’d been an enigma, somewhat of a mystery, since I’d met him. He was very talented at only allowing people to know what he wanted them to. He was so charming and charismatic that it was too easy to see past what he could be capable of.

I was being crazy, right? I knew Mickey. How could I possibly know Lexi was even telling the truth about him? It was easy to think this way, but I couldn’t ignore the feeling that she was being nothing but truthful. The way she spoke about him, she had no ill intent behind her words. It didn’t seem like she hated Mickey or that she was jealous. She never told me that I should break up with him or that he was a bad person, just that there was “something wrong with him”. It was like she was genuinely concerned about what was in store for me.

But the one question that was toying with my mind the most, who the fuck was Debbie, and how did she know anything about me or Mickey?

[mrsaltieri-real]

His Perfect Victim (Mickey Altieri X OC!Dahlia Levine)

Chapter Eleven: I Think I Knew

Words: 4.6k

Warnings: Lanaguage, smut, oral, blowjob, cunnilingus, fingering, brief ass eating, (like REALLY brief) a little angst, fluff, lying, harassment, gaslighting, praise, a little dirty talk

A/N: smuttiest chapter yet! This was so much fun to write, I ended up completely losing myself in it. Shoutout to @bisexual-horror-fan for editing and beta reading and also for helping me get this done! I was really doubting myself on this chapter and you really talked me through it and helped me do it so much. You’ll never know how grateful I am dude!

@lizey-thornberry as your wanted to be tagged.

Mickey rubbed his eyes, before his hand pulled away, now watching as I stood up, my cell clenched between my fingers a little tighter than necessary as I stared at the now blank screen. Anger and confusion shooting through my brain at a million miles an hour, heart pounding in my rib cage and palms more damp than they should be. Who the fuck was doing this? Why were they doing this? How did some stranger have my phone number?

“Dahlia, who was it?” He asked again, struggling to untwist himself from my comforter to sit beside me, running his hand over his dishevelled bed hair. Any other night I’d find how his messy dark hair fell into his eyes sexy, or how cute he looked when he was still half asleep, but not that night. No, that night I felt an overwhelming sense of unease.

“I don’t know.” I mumbled, my eyes fluttering closed as I tossed my cell back onto my bedside table, “They hung up when they heard your voice, though.”

A small pause as he absorbed my words, a small cock of his head as if working out some kink in his neck, a minor clearing of his throat, his voice was clearer as he asked, “Okay? Are you implying something?”

I turned to look at him, teeth sinking into my bottom lip before letting out a sigh, turning around, so I was facing him entirely before speaking, “You know Gale Weathers’ stupid book? Sid, Randy and I were told it might be being made into a movie. If it does, it’s releasing sometime next year.”

“So…” Mickey’s voice trailed off as he looked at me expectantly, one eyebrow slightly arched.

“So, since the possibility got announced, Sidney’s been receiving a lot of weird phone calls, but they’d talk to her using that…” I swallowed a little, shaking my head, as though I was trying to shake the memory of Billy Loomis calling me using that voice, “Modulator. But they speak to her, whoever this is doesn’t actually speak to me. Just kind of breathes until they hang up.”

“Sweetheart, I think you’re overthinking this a little. How do you know it’s someone trying to prank you? It could just be someone calling the wrong number. How many of these calls have you had?”

I hesitated, looking down, so my hair covered my face and mumbling, “Five or six?”

I heard Mickey’s teeth lock together, and my head snapped up at the sound to see him staring at my wall, looking more pissed off than I’d ever seen him. “Jesus, what?”

He looked back at me, expression quickly smoothing out as he sent me a half-hearted smile, his hands moving to rest on the back of my neck as he said as softly as he could manage, “I don’t think it’s the same thing as Sidney’s getting.”

“You don’t?” I asked hopefully, hand flying up to rest over his hand, my fingers curling around his.

“No, I don’t. Maybe we should get you a new number.”

“Yeah, maybe.” I dropped my hand, picking up my cell and deciding to turn it off. Ghostface was gone, I didn’t need to live in fear anymore. Of course, with the rights to the book potentially being made into a movie, people completely detached and uninvolved are going to try and harass the survivors, it was in human nature to be curious. It was still bullshit and unfair that anyone tried it, though.

But as it would turn out, Mickey would be right. It wasn’t the same calls Sidney was receiving, or Randy for that matter.

“You’re stressed.” I felt his hands move to rest on my shoulders, pulling me back against his chest and his lips pressing gently to my pulse, making me sigh and my head fall on his shoulder. I could feel his smile against my skin and I turned my head, my forehead resting against his cheek, “This overthinking isn’t healthy, Dahl.”

“Tell me about it.” I muttered, making him chuckle under his breath, lips gently kissing my neck. I lifted my head, so I was looking at him, watching as his head tilted slightly as he took in my gaze with a questioning hum. “I really like you, Mickey.” I said softly, and he smiled at me, expression softening as he said sincerely, “I really like you too.”

Looking back now, I don’t know if he meant it, at least at that moment. But with how he looked at me, how his brown eyes softened like melting chocolate and his heart stuttered against my back as I said the words, I like to think he was telling the truth.

Before long, I was kissing him again, adjusting myself, so I was straddling him on my bed with my hands knotted in his thick, dark hair and grinding myself down against him, desperately needing him to take away the memory of that stupid phone call in a way only he could.

“Dahl- Dahl, stop.” He breathed against my mouth, his fingers gripping my hips tightly. I pulled back straight away, attempting to remove myself from him and mumbling apologies, but he quickly shook his head, his hand moving to tuck some stray hair behind my ear, “No, no. I was just um… going to ask if you wanted to try something?”

I raised my eyebrows, looking at him skeptically. “What?”

“We don’t have to do it, but I just wanted to do something for you. If you’re ready, no pressure.”

His smile was so charming, so beautiful, I couldn’t help but smile back. I knew already what he was implying, his eyes kept dropping down as he spoke, and I nodded my head, feeling a little nervous. This was a good way to take my mind off of stuff, and I cared about him. Cared about him more than I thought possible. It was weird, considering I hated this cocky asshole four months ago and now here he was in an instant, laid between my legs with his fingers dancing under the elastic of my panties, his brown eyes looking up at me for confirmation to which I quickly granted with a nod and a nervous smile which made him laugh again, though this time it was a little less playful and a lot more serious.

“Are you sure you want this?” He asked, kissing my inner thigh gently as he looked at me as if he was studying my face.

“I’m sure.” I said confidently, surprised at my own voice. It sounded different, maybe it was the excitement. Maybe it was because I could already feel how wet I was. Maybe it was because I had the man who was the most beautiful person I’d ever seen kissing my inner thigh, desperate to taste me.

He gently, slowly, pulled my panties down my legs, eyes leaving my face to settle on my pussy, his head resting gently against my thigh, his hair tickling my sensitive skin.

“Beautiful.” He said softly, and before I could respond with some kind of sarcastic come back, I felt it.

I felt his broad, flat tongue lick up my slit, making me gasp and move back instinctively, regardless of how nice it felt. He chuckled slightly, eyes darker than ever as he asked if I was okay, pulling back to look at me.

“I'm fine, I’m sorry!” I breathed, urging him to do it again, to which he obliged with a small chuckle, this time hooking his strong arms around my knees, placing them over his shoulders for better access.

His lips grazed up my thigh again, the sensation making me want to drop my head against the pillow, but I didn’t want to miss watching him.

I felt his tongue before I saw him move, he was much gentler this time, using the tip of his tongue to gently drag up my slit and stopping at my clit, softly repeating the action until I was beginning to writhe and sigh.

He smiled up at me, his fingers stroking my thigh gently as I felt his lips wrap around my clit.

“Oh!” I couldn’t help but gasp out, body jolting and my hands moving to thread through his hair as I felt his soft lips suckling at my clit, looking down at him to see his brown eyes fixed on my face.

He hummed around my clit, the gentle vibrations sending shockwaves through my body and making my back arch off the bed, my fingers tightening in his hair as I whispered out his name under my breath.

He pulled back a little, chuckling as his hand moved from my thigh to press against my stomach, forcing my ass against the bed.

“You gonna try and stay still for me?” He asked, resting his head against my leg as his fingers dragged down my torso. He pressed the pads of his forefinger against my clit, applying a small amount of pressure that made me instantly eager for more. I nodded my head, feeling myself clench around nothing, and he slid his fingers toward my hole, eyebrows raising a touch as he commented, “Look how wet you are for me. You're fucking drenched and I’ve hardly touched you. Feeling a little pent-up?” His tone was playful, teasing, but the look in his eyes was anything but.

“Do you always talk this much?” I mumbled, wanting nothing more than to push myself against his face, needing to feel more contact. His fingers were nestled just inside of me, feeling the bare heat of my arousal coating the tips of his fingers.

“What, you don’t like it when I talk to you?” His fingers moved a little, making me let out an agitated whine when it wasn’t enough.

“Mickey-“

I was cut off by the sensation of two of his fingers plunging into me, the feeling making me gasp loudly, eyes fluttering closed as my head tipped back. I could practically see his smile behind my closed lids as he curled his fingers upward, his mouth attaching back to my clit and beginning to suck indulgently and making my pussy clench his fingers tightly.

“Fuck, d-don’t stop!” I begged him, trying to remember not to move, not to adjust myself or force him to apply any more pressure. He knew exactly what he was doing, somehow already knowing my body better than I knew it myself.

He pulled his lips back for a second just to mumble, “Think I’m gonna?” before the strong tip of his tongue danced over my aching clit again, making me let out another cry of pleasure.

My heels dug into his back as I whimpered and panted out his name, feeling the tightly wound coil in my stomach about to snap. He was right, I was more pent-up and stressed out than I’d realized, and Mickey’s fingers and tongue were already starting to make it melt away, twisting the agitation into pleasure and stripping the thoughts away and turning them into nothing short of ecstasy.

I knew I wouldn’t last long the first time he did this, but how fast I was about to fall apart was fucking ridiculous.

I felt his lips abandon my clit, but his fingers didn’t stop pumping and curling as he looked up at me, watching my chest heave and my stomach tighten, unable to stop myself from arching off the bed.

“Not yet, Dahli.” I heard his voice, heard his command, but I didn’t want to listen to him. I needed this, needed to feel this. I ignored him, so fucking close, and immediately felt his fingers abandon me.

“Y-you- why the f-fuck did you-“ I stumbled over my words pathetically, forehead creasing as I clenched helplessly around nothing.

“Trust me.” His voice was even, melodic as I lifted my head to glare down at him. I opened my mouth to protest, but when my eyes touched his face, fuck. He looked more beautiful than I’d ever seen him. His lips and chin glistened in the dull light flooding in from outside with my arousal, his eyes were dark and almost manic and his wet fingers were gripping my thigh tightly, “Beg me for it.”

I let out a confused laugh, heart still hammering in my chest as I questioned him, “B-beg you for it? I’m not gonna-“

“Do you want me to make you cum?” He asked, dropping my legs from his shoulders and making me frown at him again.

I nodded my head once.

Mickey’s fingers moved again, dipping inside of me then rubbing over my clit, using my wetness as lubricant and being nowhere near as gentle this time as he repeated his words again, smiling cockily as my mouth fell open with a loud moan.

“Beg. For. It.”

I was stubborn, but I’m only fucking human.

My legs were shaking, he used his other hand to push my thigh down until it hit the mattress as he used his fingers to rub over my pussy, the action making me twitch and groan like the pathetic mess he was turning me into, the one I didn’t know I was capable of being for anyone.

I obliged him without much more prompting.

“Please- please.” I whispered.

“What? Can’t hear you.” He bent his head down, licking up a long stripe from my ass to my clit, my body jolting sharply at the action as I cursed out loudly and begged again, “Please, please let me cum! I can’t- I can’t take it.” I rambled out pleas and begged him incessantly, on and on, a fucking broken record, until he smiled up at me, moving his hand to my other thigh and forcing my legs as far apart as I could manage.

“Only because you asked so nicely.” He said softly, and before I could respond, his mouth was attached to my clit and he sucked.

“Oh, fuck.” I practically shouted as his mouth and tongue attacked my clit, sucking forcefully and harshly, the pressure so good it was almost painful. It is that kind of burning sensation that makes it impossible to string together a sentence, that makes my eyes unfocus and numb tingling pins and needles radiate in my limbs. My hands yanked and pulled at his hair before finding his shoulders, my nails digging into his back and cutting into his soft flesh, making him hiss and moan against my throbbing cunt, urging him on to suck harder, his tongue dancing across me.

He pulled back for the briefest of moments to nod up at me before continuing, I took the nod as permission and I came. God, at long last I came, and I came harder than I ever had before on his face, almost sobbing out his name as my body shook and spasmed as I felt the coil completely snap and with it, me as well. Throat felt thick and heavy, eyes felt glassier and wetter than they should, hips moving the smallest amount, wringing out every single bit that I could on his mouth.

Mickey kept going, even after I tried pushing his head away. I felt his tongue move to dip into my cunt, practically drinking my juices as I continued to twitch and writhe under him and had to beg him to stop.

He did stop, when he was done, not when I wanted him to be. Something about it was so hot, the fact that even this act that was meant for my pleasure was still done in so many ways on his explicit terms, making me beg and not stopping until he had his fill. He was lifting his head from between my legs and smiling at me, not bothering to wipe his mouth before he crawled up on top of me, his lips attaching to mine. I moaned as I tasted myself on his tongue and mouth, unable to not notice how hard he was as he pressed himself against my thigh.

“Good girl, Dahli.” He said softly against my mouth, the praise making me preen from under him and press my bare core over his clothed erection. He let out a faltering grunt as I did so before pulling his head away, his hand coming up to press against my shoulder and push me into the bed. “Not tonight, I know you’re not ready.”

“I’m not,” I confirmed, my voice still trembling before I quickly added on, “But I want to… Help.”

His eyebrows furrowed a little before he caught on, eyes widening in realization.

“You really don’t have to, baby.” His forehead rested against mine as he spoke, and I could feel him against my bare pussy through his briefs, throbbing and hot. I knew I wanted to, I wanted to more than anything.

My shaking hands pushed against his shoulders and he moved off me, rolling onto his back, so I could move on top of him, my hands resting on his chest as I knelt over him, my knees either side of his thighs.

“Let me.” I insisted, and he raised his hands, palms up, and grinned up at me.

I wanted to return the favour. He made me feel the best I’d ever felt. I know he’d had more than his fair share of girls do this for him, but I didn’t care. I knew he cared about me, in his way anyway, and I knew how long it had been for him.

I edged down the bed, fingers tugging down his briefs quickly before I lost my confidence. He raised his hips to help me and I quickly discarded them to the side and my teeth bit down into my bottom lip as I sucked in an uneasy breath when I took him in.

It dawned on me that I’d never seen Mickey completely naked until that moment, and if I'm being honest I was mad that it had taken me this long, especially after seeing what he was packing.

Mickey was a solid seven inches, above average and slightly intimidating in terms of thickness. I knew not all dicks looked the same, just as not all pussies looked the same, but I doubted anyone in the world had one as pretty as his, not that I’d ever want to find out regardless.

“Are you okay?” I glanced up at him, he looked a little concerned. He sat up in my bed, leaning toward me and pressing his hand against my cheek gently, reiterating that I didn’t have to if I wasn’t ready.

I shook my head with a small smile, my hand moving up to press over his. “I want to.” I said softly, my other hand moving between us to gently grasp his length, laughing a little as he jumped at the feeling of my cold hands and I whispered, “I’m sorry,” before pressing my lips against his for a second.

He knew I was nervous, but guessed as to why incorrectly. I had no idea what I was fucking doing. He caught on fairly quickly, though, his back resting against my headboard and his hands moving to settle in my hair as I experimentally slid my hand upward from his base.

I heard his breath hitch, his fingers tightening a little, and I smiled, “Like that?”

He laughed a little, eyes fixed on my hand, and he nodded, “Yeah, like that. Don’t be scared to add a little pressure.”

I did so, flexing my fingers and silently relishing in the soft hum that left his mouth.

“Give me your hand.” He took my hand off him, bringing it to his mouth where he kissed my palm before licking it, from the bottom of my palm to the ends of my fingers while looking into my eyes, and carefully settling it back around his cock, nodding his head for me to continue.

Fuck, why was that so hot?

I wanted this now, more than before. I continued to gently pump his cock in my hand, watching his reactions carefully as his chest unsteadily rose and fell, and his hand fell out of my hair as he settled between his legs, still carefully moving my hand as I softly licked over his tip.

“Fuck.” He cursed under his breath and I couldn’t help but smile, feeling encouraged as I moved off the bed.

“What are you doing?” He asked curiously, eyes opening when he felt my hand leave him, adjusting himself, so he was now sitting on the bed with his feet on the floor, I dropped to my knees in front of him, eyes never leaving his as one of my hands rested on his thigh and the other held his length in my hand.

“I want to do this right. You’ll tell me if I'm doing it wrong, right?”

“Sweetheart, how many ways do you think there are to suck a dick? Do whatever feels right, don’t worry. I’ll talk you through it.” His eyes were dark, dripping with arousal. He felt painfully hard and hot in my hand, throbbing from lack of stimulation, and all I wanted was to make him feel as good as he’d made me feel.

I didn’t respond, instead tentatively taking him into my mouth, my hand sliding down to his base as I took in as much of him as I could. I hummed around his length, eyes open and watching his face as I slowly began to bob my head. I’d seen porn, I wasn’t entirely clueless. But this was completely different, and I was surprised to find how much I enjoyed feeling his pulsing, hot cock filling up my mouth.

“Jesus, fuck!” Mickey gasped out, hand falling into my hair and gripping it tightly. I felt him tense a little as my tongue made contact with his cock, and he said softly, “God, you look so fucking good right now. Grip it a little harder, it’s okay, you don’t have to be so gentle- fuck.”

His fingers pulled at my hair a little as I experimentally took him a little further, gagging softly as his dick touched the back of my throat. His hips unconsciously bucked, making me splutter a little around him, and he began apologizing, “Shit, Dahli, I’m sorry.”

I wanted to roll my eyes at him, here he was, telling me I didn’t have to be so gentle with him, and he was doing the same with me. I wasn’t glass, I wasn’t going to break.

I tried to get myself into a rhythm, my hand moving along with my mouth as he cursed a little, praising me as he told me, “Your mouth's so fucking hot, fuck baby.”

He was holding back, something he clearly wasn’t used to doing. I could tell, and I really didn’t want him to. I knew I was inexperienced, and I also knew that that knowledge is what turned him on even more, his hands were resting on my head, his eyes fixed on mine as I gradually grew more confident.

“It’s good, fuck. Relax your throat a little, breathe through your nose and- Oh, God.” I did as he told me, then being able to take him down my throat and make him tense as I did so. I gagged softly around his cock, my fingernails digging into his thigh as I did so.

He couldn’t seem to help himself, pushing my head down roughly while his head fell back, making me choke and splutter again as he took me by surprise.

“Shit, I’m sorry, I couldn’t help myself, here I- I’ll- hands up here, see,” his hands left my hair, raising them as if in surrender. I wanted to laugh, but I just rolled my eyes up at him as he continued to talk, “-Just, Christ, please don’t fucking stop, your mouth is so-“

His voice trailed off as I continued to suck and squeeze my fingers around him, finally finding my pace as I took him eagerly down my throat, hollowing my cheeks and sucking slowly, from his base up to his leaking tip.

“You’ve done this before, fuck, you must have.” He commented, hands falling to rest on the mattress, “You don’t gotta rush, baby, take your time-“

It was obvious he was worried, I could tell by his strained tone that he was afraid of doing the wrong thing, afraid of pushing me too far. I also knew I was not giving the best head he’d ever had. But I knew him, I knew that because he cared about me, this was different for him, more intimate.

I pulled him from my mouth, looking up at him and saying, “Mickey, I’m fine, shut up,” before grabbing his hands and placing them back into my messed up hair, taking him back into my mouth hungrily, hearing him laugh down at me breathlessly.

He mumbled something I didn’t quite hear under his breath, something like, “Hungry little whore,” but I ignored him. I could feel him throbbing in my mouth, the taste of his pre-cum on my tongue as I continued to blow him, growing more and more confident by the second before he let out a loud grunt, beginning to slowly grind his hips against my mouth, halting when my nose touched his pubic bone.

I knew he was close.

“Fuck, Dahlia.” He whispered, hands holding onto my hair so hard it was a surprise he didn’t rip it out from the roots as he gasped out my name a few more times, his hips gently grinding against my face. Without warning, I felt the hot ribbons squirting into my mouth, filling it up rapidly with the salty taste. I reminded myself to breathe through my nose as he came, trying to swallow carefully, but some spills from around his cock and out my mouth, dribbling down my chin, my eyes beginning to sting with tears as he finished.

“Fuck, baby.” His hands let go of my hair and I pulled him out of my mouth, looking up at him proudly.

“Look at you, all proud of yourself.” Mickey’s voice was a little breathless as smiled down at me, his thumb wiping my cheeks and chin gently, “Come up here and kiss me.”

“But you just… you know, in my mouth.” I protested, struggling to my feet, so I could go and brush my teeth.

He rolled his eyes, pulling me to him by my hips as he mumbled, “Don’t fucking give a shit,” and pulled my head down to his, pressing his lips to mine roughly, his blunt fingers digging into my flesh. I moaned against his mouth, arms wrapping around his neck as he pulled me on top of him, my legs wrapping around his waist as his tongue swirled around my mouth hungrily, tasting himself and sighing softly before pulling back to look at me carefully, eyes still bright and almost manic.

“Are you okay?” He asked, his hand brushing some of my hair from my eyes as I nodded, a shameless grin on my face.

“I’m better than okay, Mickey.” I confirmed, pressing my forehead against his, “That was amazing.”

“It was.” He agreed, his eyes fluttering closed before he continued, “I’m glad I’m able to make you feel better.”

I hesitated for a moment, pulling back to look at his face, my hand trailing across his cheekbone. He hummed softly at the contact, eyes remaining closed and his fingers dancing across my back.

I think at that moment, I knew I loved Mickey. I knew just how much I adored him, craved him and just how far I’d be willing to go for him, but I didn’t say it.

Maybe it was a fear of not knowing if he loved me too, a part of me remaining scared and doubtful that any of this was real, so I kept my mouth shut.

Or maybe I was terrified that if I said it, it would be true, and I’d be opening myself up to have my heart completely shattered by the person who’d been the one to put it back together again.

[mrsaltieri-real]

His Perfect Victim (Mickey Altieri x OC!Dahlia Levine)

Chapter Seven: Beginning of the End

Words: 3.5k

Warnings: language, Mickey being a dick, (again, shocker) a little angst, a little fluff, phone call, (yes it’s a warning) confession of feelings.

The smut is COMING I PROMISE! We’re getting there, just slowly. As I’ve said before I’m putting a lot into this fic and for it to work out the way it’s going to, there’s a fuck ton of twists and turns. But we are progressing I swear. Mickey is really going to ruin Dahlia (in more ways than one)

Thank you to the wonderful @bisexual-horror-fan for beta and editing this for me! I love how much you love them and see just so fucking awesome at helping me bring the fic to live. Love and appreciate you so so much dude!!!

@lizey-thornberry as you wanted to be tagged :)

As it turns out, Mickey was right. Things couldn’t just go back to normal after I made the stupid and monumental decision to kiss him. I don’t know why I thought that they would, or could. Maybe because I never had before, I hadn’t realized the impact the small action of pressing my lips to his would have, the ripple effect it would cause outward like throwing a stone into a pond.

Talking about it with Sidney in my dorm room the next day like we were a couple of fourteen-year-olds, I was met with a reaction I hadn’t expected. The words, “I kissed Mickey” left my lips, and then I felt her warm arms throw themselves around my neck as she pulled me to her, taking me a little by surprise. Sid was very similar to me in some ways, not huge on casual physical contact, but I suppose being with Derek was beginning to coax her into it. The change wasn’t unwelcome. Happiness looks good on Sidney, she looks best with a smile on her face and warm in her eyes.

I laughed, a little surprised, moving my hands to rest on her back as she pulled away, her infectious grin lighting up her face, “Look at you!” She said, dropping her arms back to her side, the beginning of the question slips out quickly, “Was that your first-“

I respond even quicker, “Yeah, it was. I mean, I don’t think Paul Miller in the fifth grade really counts.” I said with a nearly coy smile.

“Oh no, I saw that “kiss,” it definitely does not count. So what made you do it?” She pressed, pulling her legs up to sit crossed legged on my bed. I had no morning classes, so Mickey hadn’t met me with his usual coffee and a bagel, and for a brief moment I had a passing thought of how weird that was, he didn’t know my schedule that well. I did have a class twenty minutes from then, but I knew he had his film class with Randy at the same time. The thought abandoned me as I sat with Sid, blushing furiously as I recounted the experience.

“I don’t know, I mean, I guess it just felt right?” I looked down at my hands, twisting one of the rings on my fingers around and around as I spoke, “He was just being so… Mickey. But not in the way I’m used to. He was asking me if I’d ever look at him in a romantic kind of way. I guess I realized that I was starting to look at him like that, so I kissed him.” I shook my head, loose hair cascading around my shoulders as I did so, groaning a little, “It was stupid, right? I’m not ready!”

“Dahlia, you won’t know till you try.” Sidney’s friendly brown eyes looked at me as her hand found mine with a reassuring squeeze, she offered up in a show of comfort, “Maybe someone like him is exactly what you need right now?”

I furrowed my eyebrows at her, my head tilting a little to the side as I asked, “What do you mean?”

Sid hesitated for a moment, teeth sinking into her bottom lip before she let out a small sigh and answered me, “You’ve been through a lot, D. I know you’re only just getting back to your old self, but you have to admit, he’s been a big part of that,”

I opened my mouth to object, but she shook her head at me once, making me immediately clamp my lips together when I took in her serious expression, “You can’t deny it, we’ve all noticed it. When you’re around him, you get the light in your eyes we haven’t seen in, God, forever!” Sidney’s hands squeezed mine again as she bent her head down to catch my eye, “Would trying it really be the worst thing in the world?”

“I-“ I mouthed words, but nothing came out as my brain churned.

Would it?

There was no denying I was attracted to him, but so was half the student fucking body. He’d also fucked half of that same half of the student body, and I knew myself well enough to know I didn’t just want to be another notch in his bedpost. I had no idea if he really cared about me, or if this whole thing was just another game to him. I didn’t want to be a toy, I didn’t want to just be viewed as something for fun, to be played with and then be discarded when he was done.

I thought of the way he looked at me, friends didn’t look at friends like that. It was like he knew me, more than I knew him. He looked at me as if I was something to fucking eat, and it was almost too intoxicating.

I thought of the way his lips felt on mine, how right it felt, how he tasted and smelled, how his fingers dug into my hips and traced my spine. It felt so right, but there was something else behind it. A kind of urgency that at that moment I could quite put my finger on.

“All of this is moot if you don’t like him.” Sidney interrupted my train of thought, making me blink a couple of times and glance up at her. She was standing in front of me, I didn’t even notice her hands let go of mine or her standing up and putting her jacket on, “Just think about it, alright?”

I nodded my head, and she smiled down at me before giving a goodbye, a casual wave over her shoulder upon her exiting my dorm room, leaving me sat crossed legged on my bed staring at the door long after it clicked shut.

She was right, when was she not? I knew I liked him. But I had no idea if he liked me.

Fuck, I felt like I was in middle school all over again.

I groaned, falling back against my pillow and placing my arms across my face, squeezing my eyes until I saw spots behind my lids.

Then my phone rang.

I sighed, pulling my arms from my face and grabbing my shitty cell from my bedside table and flipping it open without looking at the name with a, “Hello?”

No answer, just the subtle, quiet sound of breathing at the end of the line.

I frowned, pulling the phone from my ear and glancing at the name.

Unknown Caller.

I pressed the phone back to my ear, propping up and asking more clearly, “Hello?”

The line went dead.

“Weird.” I muttered, tossing the phone back on the bedside table, forcing myself to stand up to start making my way to class.

The phone rang again, making me jump with a small gasp as I hesitantly picked it up.

I felt relieved as I saw Mickey’s name lighting up the small screen, answering him happily enough with, “I told you I don’t like getting calls.”

“Well, hello to you too, Dahl.” I could tell he had a smile on his face judging by his tone, and I couldn’t help one from spreading across mine, “What are you doing right now?”

I glanced at my watch before responding, “I’ve got class.”

His voice came through the receiver undeniably tinged with mirth, “Wanna ditch? Or are you too scared?”

He sounded so teasing, as if the words themselves were curling inside my ears, beckoning me to come out, and play. I rolled my eyes, scoffing slightly as I defend myself. “Christ, how much of a square do you think I am?”

Next he was explaining his line of thinking, “Sorry, I automatically assume you're a prude when it comes to your education as well as your lack of sex life.”

“Ouch.” I laughed, not even really feeling slightly hurt by his taunting comment. That was just the kind of guy he was.

“But seriously, I think we have stuff we need to talk about. Meet me outside your building?”

Fuck, he wanted to initiate that conversation? That, I didn’t expect.

I mumbled something about being down in a few minutes before hanging up, looking in my absent roommates floor length mirror and quickly combing my hair with my fingers, thanking the lord I had washed it last night, quickly tying a bandana around my head.

Passable, I decided with a shrug.

I quickly locked my door behind me as I left, leaving the building, and there he was, looking unfairly attractive but dressed, so simply, it made me want to bite his head off. Did the fucker know how good he looked without even trying? It’s maddening.

“Hey.” He remarked with a smile, his less than subtle once over not going amiss.

“Hi.” I suddenly felt shy, diverting my eyes down to the ground. What the hell was wrong with me? I’d basically thrown myself at this guy yesterday, and now I couldn’t even look him in the eye?

He said as much, eyebrows arching slightly as he asked, “You good? Feeling a little shy, are we?” His tone was teasing yet again, and I scoffed, forcing myself to meet his eye.

“No. Shut up, why am I ditching class?” I quickly changed the subject, maintaining casual eye contact. Well, as casual as I could muster without giving into the fact that all I wanted to do was kiss his stupid fucking lips again.

He seemed to already know that, a smile making the corners of his mouth tug up at my very obvious attempt to divert the conversation, “I want to take you somewhere.” He spoke lightly, holding his hand out for me to take.

I looked down at his outreached hand blankly, my own eyebrows raising a fraction as I asked hesitantly, “Where, exactly?”

He sighs with a nod, “Ah right, you don’t do ominous, I forgot.”

Fucking asshole.

“Library. It’s pretty dead right now because almost everyone has class around this time, so we can talk there.” His hand reached down and grabbed mine as he spoke, intertwining our fingers together, and I felt that jolt of electricity spark the moment we made contact. I tried not to show it, act like the sensation didn’t claw its way up my arm, shoot through my bloodstream and settle in my chest.

Was I crazy? Did he feel it too?

He tugged me alongside him, his winning smile lighting up his face. God, he was beautiful. I couldn’t help but look up at him as I walked alongside him.

His eyes were still bright as ever, with somewhat of a wicked gleam lurking below the deep surface of his light brown irises, and they just looked so… Inviting. He glanced down at me for a moment, his eyebrows raising a hair as he took in my clearly admiring expression. “What?” He asked with a laugh as we neared the entrance of the library. I tore my eyes away, looking at the double doors in front of me instead as I muttered, “Nothing, nothing.”

With another chuckle, he pushed the doors of the library open with one hand, still gripping mine in the other as he hauled me along with him between one of the many stacks of books and shelves.

I loved libraries. The smell of the old books and crisp paper, how quiet it was. It was like an escape, one you actively want to lose yourself in the same way you can and do lose yourself in the pages of a book.

Mickey’s hand released mine as he sat down, crossing his legs and leaning against the back wall between the stacks, gesturing next to him for me to sit down. I obliged, settling down beside him and resting my hands in my lap. He was right, of course. It was deserted, not a student, a professor or even the librarian in sight. It was quiet, comforting. I could only hear Mickey’s light breathing beside me before he spoke, his voice softer than I’d ever heard it.

“You want to talk about yesterday?”

I shrugged my shoulders timidly, not wanting to meet his gaze that I knew was concentrated on my face.

“Do you?” I asked, keeping my voice as soft and quiet as his was.

“I do. You took me a little by surprise, didn’t know you had it in you. You don’t seem like that kind of person who just-“

“I’m not shy or anything.” I interrupted him, suddenly feeling a little defensive, “It was stupid, I know. But honestly? I’m not upset I did it.” I made myself look at him, watching as his expression shifted to one of subtle surprise as he asked in mild disbelief, “You’re not?”

I shook my head, moving my arm to prop my elbow on my knees, so I could rest my face in my hand as I looked up at him, “I’m not. I know that may come as a surprise to you because you see me as shy, but I thought about it a lot last night, and I’m glad I did it.”

He was quiet for a moment, this time him dragging his gaze from me to stare blankly at the wall far ahead of him. His full lips pursed slightly, clearly deep in thought, before he asked, “Why?”

“Why am I glad?” He nodded once, still not looking at me. I knew how I felt, I knew I had to tell him. I’d spent too long as an emotionless zombie and just surviving rather than living. As both Sidney and Randy had pointed out, he was the only person that’s been able to reignite the fire I used to have, to make me feel like a person again. I couldn’t deny I had feelings for him, that was pointless. I was sick of playing pretend, acting like I didn’t. What was the use in pretending like I just wanted him to be a friend?

I knew there was always the chance he didn’t feel the same way, but it really didn’t bother me. I had to do what I never did and just shoot my shot because I knew that if I didn’t, I’d regret it for the rest of my life. In hindsight, maybe it would have been better for me if I just kept my mouth shut. But alas, I opened my mouth and said it. Six words that were going to change the trajectory of literally everything.

“Because I have feelings for you.”

There was no taking them back once it was all out there. This head practically snapped in my direction as soon as the words were out of my mouth and his jaw seemed to relax slightly, his eyes boring into my face.

“Feelings? Come on, Dahl.” He didn’t say it in a rude or snarky kind of way. His tone was off slightly however, a slight edge to the words as though it was almost a warning.

I ignored the hidden tone, dropping my hand from my face and turning to face him properly, looking him dead in the eyes. “I’m not the kind of person who throws myself at people, but you… You’re just…” I couldn’t find the words as I watched his expression soften, the hard brown in his eyes switching to something I could only describe as melting chocolate. I felt his hand gently touch my cheek and I leaned into it slightly, eyes fluttering closed.

“Feelings.” He whispered it, so quietly I wasn’t even sure he’d really said it, as if he can’t believe it. He must have known there was something going on here, but this was not what he’d been expecting, clearly.

My eyes stayed closed as I felt his lips gently brush mine, soft as a feather and just so… Careful. Like he was afraid he’d break me.

I hummed, light, an involuntary reaction without a melody as I felt his lips against mine a little more firmly before he pulled back, making my eyes open and look at him confused.

“You can’t have feelings for me.” He sounded sad and his face completely gave him away. He looked tormented by something in his own head, his head shaking from side to side, “You were right with what you said last night. You don’t know me.”

“But I know enough.” I insisted.

He laughed a humourless laugh, his hand moving to run across his hair as he continued shaking his head, “You really don’t, Dahlia. If you did, there's no way you’d have feelings for me.” He said the word feelings as though it disgusted him.

Fuck, this guy switched up fast. I decided to match his energy.

“What the fuck is your problem, Mickey? You make me skip class, drag me to the deserted fucking library to talk about what happened last night and what, now you’re mocking me for being honest with you?”

“I’m not mocking you, Dahlia. I’m stating a fact.” He rolled his eyes, refusing to look at me.

“I asked you if we could pretend like it never happened, if we could be just friends. You’re the one who said we could never be “just friends.”. Fuck.” I stuck my fingers up in air quotations as I spoke, feeling stupid and naive. Of course, he didn’t want me, why would he? The whore that was Mickey Altieri sluts around campus, why the hell would he want to start slumming it with the resident freak?

He speaks and it is so annoying and thoroughly him, “I was gonna tell you if you want to fuck, we can fuck. But I don’t do… That shit.”

I laugh bitterly and bite out, “Oh, don’t worry. I don’t want ‘that shit’ with you now anyway. God, you’re an asshole, you know that?”

He didn’t speak, eyes still staring down at his clenched fists and his brows furrowed.

“Whatever, I don’t need this shit, especially not from you. Bye, Mickey.” I moved to stand up but felt his large hand grip my bicep tightly, keeping me beside him on the floor. “Get the fuck off me.” I snapped, struggling, but his grip hardened, refusing to let me move.

He speaks louder than he has all afternoon, louder than he should in a library. “Can you just let me explain? I don’t do relationships, Dahlia. I never have. Like, come on! Do I seem like that kind of guy interested in monogamy to you?”

He had a point.

“I fuck, I leave. It’s a habit that I don’t think I know how to break. But you. You fucking get to me and I absolutely hate it.” The words are genuine, and he seems so upset that they are, like he wished that they weren’t true.

I stopped struggling, pausing to look at him in confusion as he continued talking.

“I know I’ll hurt you eventually, and I don’t want to do that. Really, you have no fucking idea how much I don’t want to do that. I’m giving you an out.”

“I don’t want an out, you stupid asshole.” I snapped, frowning at him as his lips twitched in a slight smile at my choice of words. Dick. “You don’t know that you’ll do any of that unless you try. How fulfilling is it, screwing without purpose? Banging and ditching over and over?”

“Very. Very fulfilling, maybe you should try it. That’s all I can offer you.” His smile widened as he took in my expression, clearly feeling me waver just slightly before I shook my head.

“I’m not fucking you just to fuck you, Mick.” I insisted, hoping I’d reach him.

He sighed, he’s falling back against the wall behind him as he finally let my arm go, but I didn’t move. He had some kind of spell over me, I didn’t want to go anywhere.

“So you’ll only let me fuck you if I’m dating you, huh? How long into it can I, a week?”

I scoffed, shaking my head no.

He asked next, tone hopeful, smile small, looking over at me through the corner of his eye, “Week and a half?”

“When the moment is right, maybe.” I told him, my own smile lurking on the corners of my mouth.

“And I can’t fuck other people in the meantime?” He asked with an honest curiosity.

“No.” I say firmly.

He looked thoughtful for a second, his eyes scanning over me in the way I once hated, but now was growing to love. I liked the way he looked at me like I was something to eat, and it honestly made me want to force him to wait even longer before he could touch me.

“Fine.” He said quietly. I pretended not to hear, cupping my ear and leaning toward him with a sly, “Hm? What was that?”

He laughed, grabbing my hand and pulling me close to him, adjusting himself against the wall, so he was face to face with me as he said, with the most beautiful smile I’d ever fucking seen on his face, “I said fine, let’s try it. Let’s date.”

CHAPTER EIGHT HERE

[mrsaltieri-real]

His Perfect Victim (Mickey Altieri x OC!Dahlia Levine)

Chapter Nine: Better

Words: 4.7k

Warnings: language, a smidge of angst, fluff, small fight, Mickey being shifty, mentions of Mickey’s rough home life, soft!Mickey, gaslighting, light smut (finally, right?) dry humping, Mickey creaming his pants, slight dirty talk, slight praise, blood, etc

A/N: Whooooo boy! This chapter was SO much fun to write, we finally have our first bit of light smut. Not penetration, not even being naked but trust me, it’s not. I love these two dickheads so fucking much, so it means a lot to me that you guys reading like them too. Really motivates me to write, so a big, huge massive THANK YOU! Once again, thank you to @bisexual-horror-fan for editing and beta reading for me. You’re their number one fan and that makes me want to sail, THANK YOUUUU!!!!

@lizey-thornberry

Three months.

It has been just about three months of being blissfully happy, and it honestly felt surreal. I could feel myself falling harder and harder for Mickey every passing day, when his fingers would brush the hair out of my face as the wind blew, when he’d snake his arms around my waist whilst I was working on a paper for class and whisper into my ear, when he would kiss me, so soft and so gentle as though I’d break. I sometimes wondered if he was afraid of that, moving himself against me too roughly would make me splinter and threaten to shatter in his hands like some fragile glass doll, it wasn’t like I wasn’t thankful for the kind treatment, far from it, but yet, I wondered still.

But it hadn’t gone further than that, further than kissing, not really. I wasn’t ready.

I knew I wanted to, God, I wanted to. Whenever a make out session got too heated he would be the first one to pull away, gently gripping the tops of my arms and moving me softly but firmly with a smile, saying, “We’ve got time, baby,” And kissing my forehead.

He was so patient, it was disconcerting. In the frenemy part of our relationship, I didn’t know he could be this way. The way Randy and even Derek would talk about his escapades, I doubted Mickey had the capacity to be soft and gentle with anybody, but with me? It was almost like he was a different person.

Almost.

He still had an edge to him, something I hadn’t quite been able to put my finger on in the three months I’d been dating him. It seemed as though every day that passed he’d get more and more distant, glued to his computer and his cell, and our dates started falling few and far between. Sometimes it’d be days before I’d hear from him, and he’d come bounding back without so much as an apology, let alone an explanation. To start with, I didn’t ask for one, maybe I just preferred remaining blissfully unaware, not wanting the bubble to burst, or trying to be at the very least.

I hadn’t spoken with Randy since our fight, although I tried. Every time I’d approach him he’d stalk off like a fucking child, leaving the collective friendship group with raised eyebrows and confused comments, to which I’d just wave off. Sidney most of all was concerned, telling me as much when she found me on the green a few days prior.

“You have to talk to him, D.” She told me, voice firm and pressing, and her eyes fixed on me. I knew how it seemed to her, she didn’t want any more broken bonds or promises, we’d all been through enough. But honestly, at that moment, I didn’t care. I didn’t owe Randy anything, least of all speaking to him. He wouldn’t apologize, he never did. Why would he if he thought he was in the right?

I rolled my eyes at the sound of her voice, not out of annoyance, but about the fact I knew this conversation was coming as I dropped my pen onto my notebook and shot her a look, eyebrows arching a fraction as I watched her stare at me, fingers tapping rhythmically against her elbow as she crossed her arms.

“Don’t give me that look, Dahlia.” She said in a tone reminiscent of scolding a child. I tucked a strand of hair behind my ear before moving my hands under the table, so she wouldn’t catch the twisting motion of my ring. She knew me too well, knew my tells when I was nervous or anxious about something. I looked at her dead on, sucking in a breath before saying in a clipped tone, “He can come and talk to me. I didn’t do anything wrong. What’re you doing here, anyway? Don’t you have theatre?”

Sid sat side-saddle on the bench beside me, elbow propped up on the table and her head resting on her hand as she spoke, “That was an hour ago, Derek’s meeting me here.” I noticed how her tone softened as she said Derek’s name before immediately becoming serious again. “It’s been three months and you and Randy have barely said five words to each other, Dahlia. You two usually can’t go five minutes without talking to each other, what the hell happened?”

I pursed my lips, hesitating and trying to plot out my response before telling her. As I looked into her big, brown eyes, I knew I could trust her. Sid wasn’t one for gossip, but I was worried. Worried that as soon as I told anybody what was going on between Mickey and I the bubble would finally burst and things would become a little too real.

She watched my expression, saw the hesitation in my eyes, and her hand dropped to mine under the table, halting the twisting motion on my ring and squeezing it softly as if prompting me to tell her. Sidney was perceptive, and knew me far too well.

So I told her. There was no use in lying, and I fucking hate lying anyway.

I told her everything, my feelings for Mickey, how we had started dating three months ago and decided not to tell anybody, how Randy confronted me about it and blew his fucking top, and how I felt about Mickey. How I really felt.

“You’ve known him longer than I have, Sid.” I spoke after I finished telling her everything. She’d listened patiently, hand remaining over mine as I told the tale.

“I suppose.” She said with a small shrug before adding, “But not that much longer. Why?”

“I know how he… Was. Randy is worried that he’s going to end up breaking my heart, but he doesn’t see the Mickey I see, you know?” I know I sounded more like I was trying to convince myself rather than her, but she nodded thoughtfully as I continued, “I love Randy, but he doesn’t understand. Mickey makes me feel…”

“Better?” Sidney suggested when it seemed as though I was at a loss for words.

Better. It was somehow the perfect word. Not completely healed, not perfect, but better, and it was enough. More than enough. I had spent ages clinging on to life, barely, hardly scraping by, unsure how I would remain afloat, ages spent in almost stasis, half-life. Not dead, but not alive either, a cheap facsimile of an existence, not one of note or satisfaction. Then he came along. He changed it. With Mickey, I didn’t feel that way. When I was with him? I felt alive, I felt happy, I felt fucking good and yes, better. Much better.

“Yeah, better. He makes me feel like a human being again.” I sighed, pushing my hair out of my face with my free hand. I was itching to play with the ring on my finger, to indulge in my nervous habit of choice but fought the urge and just kept looking at Sid, my knee bouncing anxiously.

“I don’t want to get hurt.” I added softly. I could be vulnerable around her, I knew that, and it helped greatly.

“Who does?” Sid’s other hand moved to my knee, stopping the increasingly rapid bouncing motion as she spoke very gently, but very clearly, “But if you don’t want to, then you won’t. You’re smart, Dahlia. Smart enough to know if someone’s playing you.”

I looked at her and pointed at the covered scar on my stomach, smiling a little and sarcastically saying, “Yeah, I’m real perceptive.”

Sid smiled faintly, but didn’t speak, allowing me to continue.

“And lately he’s just been… Weird, you know? He’s always getting phone calls, gets really shifty if I ask who it is, or just changes the subject all together. I don’t want to be paranoid, but I know how he was, you know, before. I don’t just want to be another name on the list of people who he’s had in his bed.”

“Do you really think he’d do that?” She asked me, moving her hand from my knee to lean her elbow against the table before carrying on, “I don’t think he’d be in a relationship with you only to mess it up by cheating, it doesn’t seem like his style.”

I stared back at her, thoughtful for a moment, before slowly shaking my head no, eyes flickering past Sidney’s head to see Mickey and Derek approaching, Mickey smiling at me warmly.

“They’re here.” I said quickly, standing up and grabbing my bag from beside me, as Sidney twisted around to look behind her, waving her hand at Derek. “Thanks, Sid.” I added softly as the boys eventually made their way to us.

Derek smiled at me politely before moving to Sid, bending down and lightly catching her lips with his. She melted into it with a blissed out smile, and I saw Mickey roll his eyes from the corner of my eye, making me have to bite back a laugh.

“Mind if I steal her, Dahlia?” Derek asked, his eyes not leaving Sidney as his hand slipped into hers and their fingers laced together.

I smiled at him though he wasn’t looking and responded with a simple, “Of course.” Sidney glanced at me then at Mickey, something he didn’t miss, before saying goodbye to both of us and leaving with Derek.

“She knows, huh?” He asked, watching Sid and Derek walk away, and I simply shrugged with a, “Yeah, she does. That a problem?”

He looked back at me, settling down on the bench and patting the space beside him. I looked down at his hand, pursing my lips and staying put, arms crossing across my chest tightly. He stopped the patting motion, hands moving to rest on his knees as he sighed deeply, leaning back and his eyebrows raising curiously at me as he asked, “What? Am I in trouble?”

“That depends.” I gripped my elbows tightly, eyes scanning his face as I thought about how to ask him.

I cared for Mickey, cared deeply. More than I thought was even possible. He’d picked me up and slowly began piecing me back together, did I want to risk that? I wasn’t an inherently jealous person, not usually anyway. At least, I didn’t think so. This was my first real relationship with someone I actually cared about, the feelings I was having were completely unfamiliar, a brand-new concept of feeling. Would this ruin it?

“Who keeps calling you?” I blurted out, eyes trained on his face and my voice a little sharper than I intended it to be. His expression smoothed, looking as blank as a mask as his head cocked just slightly to the side, fingers stopping the drumming motion on his leg.

“What do you mean?” he asked me calmly, maybe a little too calmly. Not as though he’d been necessarily expecting the question, but more unsurprised.

“Whoever you’re speaking to on the phone, you get all distracted and different afterwards. I know it’s probably none of my business but-“

“It is none of your business, Dahlia.” He interrupted me, voice a touch sharper as his fingers dug a little into his thigh, not looking away from my face, “What, you think it’s some bitch I have on the side? Didn’t we have this conversation three fucking months ago when we decided to, “try this out”?” His fingers came up in air quotations before falling back into his lap, a small tut and a roll of his eyes as he continued, “Fuck, Dahlia. Come on.”

A part of me knew exactly what he was doing, twisting things to direct everything back onto me, make me feel insecure and stupid. I hate to admit that it worked. He had me, he had me so fucking bad, I was ignoring every screaming red flag being thrust at me.

Pathetic, right?

I opened my mouth to backtrack, to apologize, tell him it really was none of my business, but he just shook his head at me, pushing himself up sharply and looking away from me, a hint of something I couldn’t quite distinguish briefly crossing his face before disappearing just as quickly. Pain? Hesitation? Regret?

“I’m not cheating on you, Dahlia.” His voice was calmer, but he still didn’t look at me directly, stared past me as though I wasn’t even there. “I wouldn’t do that.”

“Then what’s going on?” I found myself approaching him, hands reaching up and holding his face in hands and making him look at me. His brown eyes looked into my own, and he sighed, hesitating for a moment before saying carefully, “It’s complicated. I don’t want to involve you, it’s messy, you know?”

I did know messy, apparently I attracted it, but at that moment I didn’t care. My fingers pressed firmly to his cheeks and he sighed, hands falling to my hips.

“So curious.” He mumbled, his forehead pressing gently against mine.

“You can talk to me.” I promised him, my tone was soft, hopeful, yet Mickey still flinched at my words, as if I shouted them in his face as opposed to the whisper I had put out into the air between us.

“Not here.” He said quickly, his hand moving from my hips to take my hand from his cheek, tugging me to his dorm room across campus.

Once inside, I realized I’d never been in his dorm, he was always in mine. I was pleasantly surprised to see it was cluttered but clean, posters of movies I’d never heard of crowded his walls, mountains of CD’s and DVD’s were piled high beside his television. I noticed it was a double room that he somehow had all to himself and questioned him about it curiously. He shrugged it off as he always did, mumbling about his scholarship and how it has its perks before he sat on his couch, gently pulling me down beside him. The place screamed him, it was nice, I could see myself spending time here and even better than that, it smelled like him, but in a very nice way, not in a reeking of dude kind of way so many college guy’s places did.

I looked at him expectantly, pulling my legs up under me and leaning back against the couch as he began to slowly attempt to explain what had been going on.

“I’ve got somewhat of a chequered past, Dahli.” He began, picking at a loose thread of his sweater, a small habit I noticed he took up when he was feeling anxious, and not making eye contact with me. I reached forward and placed my hand over his, stopping the motion and smiling encouragingly at him. He looked at me, soft brown eyes melting a little, and continued.

“My parents weren’t that great, not bad, but bad enough that I was bounced around the system for a lot of my childhood before I was placed back with them when I was fourteen. They’d had another kid by then, my brother. I started acting out, guess I felt replaced. It was just silly things, petty theft, the occasional Grand Theft Auto,” he flashed his devastating smile, but it didn’t quite touch his eyes, “Then things got more… serious. I was getting arrested a lot, my parents kicked me out, and everything just got worse. I try to stay in touch with my brother as much as I can, but it kind of just faded out when I started college.”

He adjusted himself on the couch, so he was directly facing me, my hand still gripping his tightly. “The phone calls I’ve been taking were from my mom, Dahlia. She asked me to stop trying to contact them, they want to move on from all the shit I put them through, says they can’t do that if I’m pestering them.”

It baffles me now how swiftly he managed to twist the truth about his life, and how easily I chose to believe him.

“I’m sorry, Mick. Fuck, I’m such an idiot.”

He shook his head, free hand moving on top of mine and smoothing his thumb over my knuckles as he said softly, “You’re really not.”

“I’m sorry about your family. They sound like dicks.” I commented.

A small smile broke out across his face and he chuckled a little before saying very pointedly, “Can’t all families be dicks?”

I smiled back at him, moving my hand from his and resting my palm on his cheek. He leaned into my touch, eyes fluttering closed at the feeling of my cold hands before opening back up and settling back on my face.

“You’re so beautiful.” He mumbled, and I couldn’t help but laugh, thinking he was just being playful, but then bit the inside of my cheeks when I saw his serious face. His hand moved to my leg, fingers lightly grazing my thighs through my jeans as he leaned forward, pressing his lips gently against mine.

I threw myself into it, the argument and fake confessions already forgotten as my hand moved from his cheek and into his hair, his own sliding up to grip my waist. He was being careful, calculated and was clearly doing his best to hold back, something he wasn’t at all used to doing. I knew that. But at that moment, I suddenly didn’t want him to be holding back.

I wasn’t ready to have sex with him, not yet. But I’d spent so long feeling nothing, I felt the overwhelming desire to feel anything, feel him touch me.

So instead of this just being another make out session, I decided to push myself.

It was important to be cautious, the last time things escalated I had the panic attack of all panic attacks, so I moved carefully, deliberately. I pushed myself up, moving one leg over him to straddle him as his hands remained on my hips, my lips not moving from his. A curious hum sounded from his mouth as he pulled back, looking up at me cautiously.

“I want to try something, if that’s okay?” I breathed, hands resting on his shoulders. He looked interested, an almost cocky smile on his face as he asked, “We’re not going to fuck, are we?”

I shook my head, reaching behind me to take his hands from my waist and move them to my ass, his expression grew even more interested.

“Oh, I see.” He said, tone even yet amused, “You want to grind-“

I cut him off, placing my hand over his mouth, and he chuckled from behind it, eyebrows raising.

“Don’t be crude.” I muttered, and he mumbled something from behind my hand. I slowly pulled it away, so he could speak clearly.

“We don’t have to.” His tone was more gentle, hands still tense on my ass. I nodded my head with a shrug, “I know, but I want to.”

That’s all he needed to hear.

I knew he was probably pent-up, knew his sex drive was ridiculously high, and he hadn’t been able to do anything about it, other than get himself off. After our make out sessions, he’d usually leave rock hard, having to adjust himself, so it wasn’t obvious on the walk back to his dorm, but he never complained, not once. But with how hard his blunt fingers were digging into the thin material of my sweats and pressing into the flesh of my ass, how his hips were slowly beginning to grind upward against me, I knew he was holding back yet again.

The pressure made me gasp, my hands gripping his shoulders and squeezing tightly. It was a subtle, soft pressure, the feeling of it felt shockingly good. Within three moves of his hips, I was seriously feeling it, eyes unfocused as the friction and slow simmering build of sensation sets in. I tried not to squeeze him much harder and just keep my mind on what he was doing, on the rhythm he set, steady, sure, but easy. All too soon being still wasn’t enough, I needed more, to contribute, so I did.

Tentative and certainly not in any kind of particular rush, I grind back experimentally, hips moving down and that pulled another sound from me and one from him too. The feeling of the fabric sliding back and forth on me was amazing, I could feel how wet I’d gotten, damp material plastered to my quickly becoming sensitive skin.

“Are you okay?” The question surprised me, a small shake of my head I force my eyes back into focus and look down at him. He was staring up at me, concerned, our bodies had not stopped moving, and I nodded, appreciating him checking in. “Yeah. M’ great. Why?”

“You’re just really outta breath.” He laughed and shit, he was right. My breathing was extremely laboured, I tried to reign it in and instead of confirming with him that yes I was fine, I decided a much better move was to shut him up a different way. My mouth was back on him and I ground down the hardest I had yet, and the shocked groan he let out into my mouth was immensely satisfying.

I was surprised to realize how much I enjoyed this, the feeling of his hands gripping my ass, kneading it more and more roughly as the grinding of my hips slowly increased. I moaned into his mouth, fingers moving to his hair and knotting in the strands, gripping and just tugging at it desperately, my hips rolling down a little harder, meeting him in the middle.

The action pulled another groan out of him, hands moving to my waist to force myself against him, halting for just a moment. I’d never felt like this before, suddenly understanding why in high school everyone was at it at any given opportunity.

I pulled back, looking down at his face impatiently and a smile broke across his face, fingers dancing underneath my shirt as he said softly, “Feel good?”

“I did, then you stopped.” I complained. I could feel myself pulsing, clenching desperately around nothing for more contact. I could feel him throbbing from between the thin material of his pants, so hard beneath me, it was making me insatiable.

“I just need- a second. You’re driving me fucking crazy here, Dahlia.” He breathed, voice a little strained and the fact I did that to him, made him sound like that, caused him to struggle to maintain his composure, made me feel a weird sense of pride and arousal mixing low in my stomach.

It gave me a second to catch my breath, but it wasn’t long. Before I could even think, his arms completely wrapped around me, briefly picking me up and making me let out a surprised squeal as he moved me underneath him, climbing on top of me and hoisting my legs around his waist, quickly asking, “Is this okay?” As one hand pressed against my hip and the other weaved into my hair, grasping the soft strands between his long fingers gently.

I nodded, pushing my hips up eagerly, and he let out a small laugh, head moving down, so his lips grazed my collarbone as he pushed himself against me. I could feel the length of him rubbing against my covered clit, nudging and pressing against it a little harsher than before. My head fell back against the arm of his couch and I let out a loud moan, surprising even myself at the volume, but that only seemed to encourage him, especially when I shakily breathed, “Fuck, Mickey,” into his ear, my fingers twisting in his shirt.

His hands moved from my waist and in between us, pushing my legs open for him by my inner thigh as he continued to move against me, grinding faster, almost desperately as his lips moved to my ear, whispering to me softly, “You’re so fucking good, so perfect, I can’t believe I get to be the first person to make your pretty little pussy cum.”

The feeling building up inside of me was something I’d never felt before. Hearing him speak, knowing that him being the first person to get me off was such a turn on to him, it was for me too. I could feel myself growing even wetter, impossibly so, my panties drenched so much that I knew he could probably feel the dampness through the thin layer of material covering him, and he could most definitely feel the heat.

His hand further pressed on my inner thigh more firmly, I could feel myself coming to an unfamiliar edge as my back began to arch off his couch, my legs itching wider for him as he rubbed and ground his clothed cock against my covered pussy, the sensation of my clit being pressed against with such pressure that I felt myself explode, gasping his name over and over again into his ear as though it was a prayer as my body began to spasm. My leg that wasn’t being pressed down kicking out to wrap around his waist, pulling myself as close to him as I could as my manicured fingernails digging into his back under his shirt sharply, causing him to let out a small hiss, cursing under his breath, the sensation sending him cussing. He was fucking himself against me only a couple more times before I felt the sudden hot spurt of liquid come through his pants and seep through his own clothes and into mine with a groan of my name into my throat as his hips slowly came to a stop.

It was insanely quiet for a moment, only the sounds of my almost laboured breathing and his own before he slowly pulled his head from the crook of my neck to look at me, lifting a hand to swipe his thumb over my cheekbone. I forced my eyes open, looking into his eyes and saw the smile on his face, making me break into one myself as I breathed out, “What?”

“You’re just… You’re so beautiful.” He spoke so softly as he repeated what he said earlier, but it felt different. In the new context after what we just did, the words had more weight, felt heavier but made me feel lighter, heart beating hard in my rib cage.

Mickey’s eyes were scanning over my face as he spoke. His cheeks were deeply flushed, his hair even messier than usual, and his pupils dilated. I could only guess I looked somewhat similar to him. I could feel my hair sticking to my neck and forehead with sweat, the fire in my stomach burning out nicely as my smile widened, and I moved my face to his, kissing him softly before letting my head fall back again.

“Are you okay? Was that your first-“

“I’m fine.” I answered his first question before laughing a little with a roll of my eyes and interrupting him, “God, no. I’ve done it to myself, but it was never, you know, like this.” I interrupted with a laugh. As he slowly sat up, I noticed him flinch slightly, and I moved up with him, a little confused, until he laughed, touching his back and pulling his hand away. I was surprised to see the crimson staining the tips of his fingers and I questioned him, concerned, “You’re bleeding?” Before reaching behind him to lift his shirt, eyes widening as I saw the mess of his back.

“Kinky little bitch in the making, aren’t you?” He laughed.

“Fuck, Mickey, I’m sorry, I’m so, so sorry!” I began rambling apologies to him, feeling guilty and embarrassed, but he just looked at me like I was insane, a baffled expression on his face as he pushed some loose hair off his forehead.

“You’re sorry for what? Scratching my back?” He asked, genuinely curious and amused.

“Well, yeah.” It was my turn to look confused as I stared at him with furrowed eyebrows, “I hurt you.”

“Dahlia,” Mickey turned back round, wiping his middle and forefinger together until the blood disappeared and then moving his hands toward my face, fixing some of my messy curls back into place before placing them on either side of my face, making me look at him with that amused but affectionate smile still on his face as he said, “Don’t be stupid, you could never hurt me.”

Read Chapter Ten HERE

[mrsaltieri-real]

His Perfect Victim (Mickey Altieri X OC!Dahlia Levine)

Chapter 4: Friends

Word count: 3k

Warnings: language, mentions of sex, a little angst, fluff, Mickey being a dick, (obviously) Mickey being sweet, flashbacks to Stu, brief mention of death

The smut is COMING I promise, I’m just fleshing it out. This fic is immensely fun to write, so I’m fr bashing out the chapters but it’s so so enjoyable I can’t seem to stop myself. Thank you again to @bisexual-horror-fan for editing and beta reading this for me. I know the extremely subtle reference to Stu and Billy hit! Kisses dude love ya!!

Gotta include the moodboard you made for me in this chapter because it’s fucking chefs kiss.

⬆️⬆️THIS. THIS IS THE VIBE⬆️⬆️

I’d never been this hungover in my entire life, my head is pounding as if a marching band is walking around the perimeter of my skull.

I groggily forced my eyes open only to recoil under the comforter at the harsh light streaming in through the windows with a low groan. Fuck the light, fuck me for not closing the curtains, fuck alcohol.

But especially fuck Mickey.

It took longer than it should have for me to realise I wasn’t in my own dorm. Once I finally resurfaced from beneath the sheets I took in my surroundings, blinking rapidly at the familiar dorm that didn’t belong to me. The posters littering the walls, the small figurines on the desk and I glanced down, noticing the Star Wars image on the comforter and frowned a little, lifting a hand to rub my eyes.

“Morning!”

I jumped, hand clutching the side of my throbbing head as my eyes settled on Randy’s goofy smiling face. He was holding out a cup of coffee for me, but he lowered it a little when he saw I was staring at him with a look of horror, mouth agape.

“Oh, God. What- what am I doing here, Randy?” I asked weakly. My voice sounded hoarse and raspy and I flinched at the sound of it, eyes darting down to my body quickly, hands pulling the blanket back to see I was not in fact naked. Thank God I was still dressed in my jeans and crop top I was wearing last night.

Randy chuckled a little, placing the steaming mug on his bedside table before sitting on the edge of his bed. “Don’t worry, don’t worry. I found you last night throwing back shots with a couple of frat bros and decided it was time to take you home but you told me you didn’t want to be alone so I just brought you back here. I assumed it was safer than any of your other options and you clearly didn’t want to stick around Hallie and Sidney’s.” He stopped, eyes scanning over my face before he jerked a thumb behind him to his sofa which was covered over with a rumpled blanket and a pillow, “See? I slept on the couch.”

I relaxed a little, sighing in relief which made him roll his eyes. “Damn, D. Would you really be so disgusted if we hooked up?” He placed a hand over his chest in mock offence.

“Yes and you’d be too.” I said, reaching forward to nudge his shoulder which made him laugh again and nod his head in agreement.

I grabbed the coffee off the table, leaning back against his headboard and closed my eyes.

“Wanna talk about whatever happened with Mickey?” He asked hesitantly.

“I didn’t tell you?” I mumbled into the mug, glancing up at him as he shook his head before replying, “You weren’t really making a lot of sense. You kept shouting about a ‘Stupid blonde slut’ and that you were going to, ‘Kill that stupid fucking mouse’ but I didn’t get much from that.” For every quote his fingers came up in quotations and I rolled my eyes, unable to stop from smiling.

I shook my head before telling him, “It doesn’t matter. I’m not really sure if I really saw what I thought I did anyway, I was pretty drunk.”

“Pretty drunk? I had to brush your teeth for you, Dahlia.” Randy shivered as if the memory haunted him and I shoved his shoulder, scoffing at him before taking his hand with my free one, rubbing my thumb over his knuckles. “Thank you for taking care of me, Rand.” I said softly.

He clicked his tongue against his teeth bashfully, his cheeks flushing just slightly, “You don’t have to thank me, Dahlia. What are friends for?”

Before I left Randy’s I fixed my hair in his bathroom, giving up at the lousy attempt and rifling through my backpack for something to cover it with. For reference, my hair is dark, thick and curly, waving down to the middle of my back. I pulled out one of my favourite bandannas; maroon and patterned with flowers, with a relieved flourish and placed it over my head biker style, staring at my reflection.

God, I looked like shit.

Randy enjoyed teasing me for my quote “rustic bohemian” sense of style whilst Sidney absolutely adored it, constantly telling me as much. During my depressed period the upkeep on my fashion sense has faltered and I practically lived in sweats and oversized T-shirts that belonged to my dad, but I made the decision that when I went to college, if I wanted everyone to think I was truly getting better I’d have to act and dress like it. So for me, I was back in my comfort zone. But right now, it really didn’t look like it. Even in my favourite outfit, my brown and white soft striped cropped jumper and my cargo pants, I still looked horrifically hungover.

I quickly splashed some water over my face, stole some of Randy’s deodorant before pecking him goodbye on the cheek at his door, eager to get back to my own dorm to shower and change.

And who should appear as though from thin air?

“Walk of shame?”

I yelped, practically jumping out of my skin as I spun around seeing Mickey leaning against the wall of Randy’s building, toying with his video camera in his hands.

“Fuck off.” I snapped, turning back round to get as far away from him as possible. He caught up with me easily in just a few strides and I internally groaned. What the fuck was this guys problem?

“So you’re fucking Meeks? Guess that shouldn’t come to any surprise really.” I didn’t look at him as he spoke, I didn’t want to properly dignify such a ridiculous claim instead just replying with, “What do you care?”

“I don’t, really. Just think you can do better.”

I stopped so quickly he took a few more steps ahead before turning around and looking at me. Fuck, he looked good. He was wearing a dark blue button down shirt and black pants, his dark hair ruffled and messy as though he’d been running his hands through it.

Or as though some girl had been running her hands through it.

“Why can’t you just leave me alone? Go bother your girlfriend instead.” I was too tired, too hungover to put any emotion in my voice, looking at him blankly. He frowned slightly, tilting his head to the side as he looked down at me before asking, “What girlfriend?”

I rolled my eyes, crossing my arms tightly across my chest and gripping my elbows, “Blonde girl? Under you last night? C’mon Mickey it’s been all of less than twelve hours.”

A smile played on the corners of his mouth as his eyebrows rose, his finger tapping against the side of his camera, “She wasn’t my girlfriend. Just some girl I fucked.”

I couldn’t stop the disgusted expression from taking over my face as I stared at him, “Oh, nice.” I muttered, “Aren’t you just charming.”

“I try.” He said cockily, shrugging his shoulders as he pointed, “It’s cute that you're jealous though.”

A surprised laugh burst through my lips and I shook my head, hands coming up to run over my face as I managed to get out, “Jealous? You think I’m jealous? You’re the one who lied to Sidney about wanting to apologise to me for being a jackass and trying to kiss me so I’d walk in and see you screwing some girl.”

His smile faltered slightly, arms dropping to his sides with his camera still clutched between his fingers, “Ah yeah, that. I guess I can be a bit of a jackass, huh?”

“More than a bit.” I muttered under my breath, starting to walk again. He walked beside me easily and I glanced at his face. He looked deep in thought, hands brought back in front of him as he played with his camera before he spoke again after about thirty seconds, “Sorry about that.”

“Hm?” I hummed as though I didn’t hear him.

He stifled a smile as he sighed, head tipping back a little, “I’m sorry about that. That was a fucked up thing to do. I just… I don’t know, I’m not used to rejection. Suppose I don’t take it well.”

“Yeah, I’ll say.” I scoffed and saw him smile down at me from the corner of my eye.

Damn him.

“Can I confess something to you?”

His tone made me look up at him in surprise, he sounded almost… Nervous? At this point I was so used to him being arrogant, confident and just a downright dick it completely caught me off guard.

“I guess?” I replied suspiciously.

“You have some kind of effect on me, Dahl. I don’t quite understand it to be honest. So yeah, when you physically fucking recoiled I assumed I read the signals wrong. So I kinda wanted to test it, you know? See how you would react if you saw me fucking some chick.” He spoke so candidly as though this was completely normal and average behaviour. Could he really not see that it wasn’t?

We were outside my building at this point and I paused, leaning against the cool brick and looking up at him, saying as softly as I could muster, “You know that’s not like… Normal, right? You could have just spoken to me.”

He looked thoughtful for a second as he nodded his head, eyes meeting mine. “Okay, I’ll talk to you. You wanna fuck?”

My eyes widened and I laughed in surprise. He was grinning at me cheekily, dimples pronounced in his cheeks and it didn’t falter as I laughed, only grew wider.

“No I don’t want to fuck you, Mickey.” I said once I stopped laughing, cheeks heating up a little before I continued, “But why don’t we start trying to be friends.”

He cocked his head to the side, smile shrinking just a little, “You wanna be my friend?”

“You said it yourself, we’re going to be around each other a lot. We might as well try. Besides, if you’re good enough for Sidney you’re good enough for me.” I held out my hand and his eyes dropped to it before looking back at my face, looking deeply amused by my formality as he asked, “Really? A handshake? What is this a fucking job interview?”

I looked down at my hand and back to him pointedly and he rolled his eyes, another smile stretching across his face as he took my hand and shook it gently, squeezing it softly. Mickey’s hand was calloused and rough. An unfamiliar but welcome warmth spread through my chest as he touched me, his eyes looking down into mine with a strange kind of affection.

The contact lingered a couple of seconds longer than necessary before I gently withdrew my hand, dropping it at my side.

“Okay, so we’re friends. That entails not fucking girls in my best friends bed and tricking me into watching it, alright?”

“Ah damn, we can’t build a foundation off of that? Not much of a voyeur, huh?” He teased and I shook my head, leaning up from the wall and pulling my keys from my jacket pocket before unlocking the door.

“Yeah, no. I’ll see you around, Mick.” I froze for a second before continuing, “-ey. Mickey.” I corrected myself quickly, wanting the ground to swallow me up.

He laughed again, holding up his hands. “Call me Mickey if you want, I’m not going to stop calling you Dahl.”

I smiled over my shoulder at him, finally pushing the door open and stepping inside.

“Wait, Dahl?”

I turned around, Mickey reached out and kept the door propped open with his hand just by my head. He stood right over me, so close and I noticed he smelled incredible, like spices and vanilla. His scent filled my nose and made my head spin and I subtly leaned against the door so I wouldn’t fucking fall as I breathed, “Mm?” Not at all trusting my voice.

He seemed to notice my little head rush and seemed to openly completely relish in knowing he had this effect on me as he leaned just a touch closer before he spoke, “I didn’t get the chance to say last night, but you looked hot. But honestly, I think you should wear the bandana more often, it suits you.”

I know I blushed, I know my cheeks completely stained pink as he glanced at them, his smile turning cocky as he pushed himself off the door and it swung closed as I stepped back, leaving me standing in the stairwell completely bewildered.

How the fuck did he do that, have this kind of instant effect on me? I’d never experienced this level of attraction to anybody before and I wasn’t entirely sure what to do with myself.

I’d never slept with anyone before. I hadn’t even fooled around and never really had time to do anything to myself. These feelings were just as endearing as they were confusing but at the moment, I wasn’t ready to explore them, right?

I thought about it as I walked up the seemingly endless stairwell to my dorm. Was this something I’d simply been putting off and making excuses for? I didn’t date in High School, too focused on school and life to even look at people in that way. Stu used to endlessly tease me for it, finding it truly hilarious that I was, at the time, seventeen and still hadn’t slept with anyone.

“What are you waiting for, D?” He’d teased, poking me in the ribs as I sat cross legged with him on his couch. I laughed, slapping his hands away from me before the guaranteed tickle fight began. Our respective parents were out of town yet again so we’d decided I’d stay over at the Machers instead of sitting home by myself for the weekend. I much preferred this anyway, Stu was more like a brother than a cousin to me.

“Stop fucking doing that you fucking ass.” I kicked out my foot but he caught it quickly, laughing as he pushed it down before continuing, “Seriously, Dahlia. What’s with the hold up?”

“You know what Stu, I don’t think I want to talk to my cousin about how I haven’t had sex yet. It’s creepy.”

Stu scoffed at me, leaning back on the couch and rolling his eyes, “Oh, please. That’s not why you don’t wanna talk about it.”

I leaned toward him and shoved his shoulder and he grabbed it in mock pain.

“No but seriously, I’m getting a bad rap. Why are you putting this off?” Stu seemed genuinely curious, fingers tapping on the upholstery of the arm of the sofa as he spoke.

I sighed, deciding to give in and tell him so he’d just let it go, “I’m not putting it off. I just… I want it to be with the right person, you know?” I spoke shyly, eyes dropping to my lap.

“Awe, how sweet and boring is that!” Stu teased but his eyes were still affectionate, “You want my advice?”

“Trust me Stu, I really really don’t.”

He ignored me, starting to talk again before I even finished my sentence, “Stick to that. Stick with your gut and wait till you find someone you really care about.”

I glanced up at him, seeing an expression on his face I hadn’t seen before as I asked softly, “Sounds like you wish you’d waited for a certain someone, huh?”

Stu smiled halfheartedly at me with a small upturn on his shoulders.

“Is it who I think it is?” I asked gently.

He nodded his head with a sigh, picking at the loose fabric of the arm of the couch, “Yeah, it’s who you think. You’re right for wanting to wait, trust me. Because man, when you find that person? Fuck, nothing else matters.”

By the time my little trip down memory lane was over I had finally made my way into my dorm and was relieved to discover my roommate wasn’t home. Karla was a nice enough girl, but I’d always found small talk insufferable and we just didn’t have the kind of relationship where talking came easy so I just hadn’t bonded with her the five months I’d been living with her. Lucky for me, my classes were in the morning and hers were in the afternoon and more often than not she would stay out at her boyfriend's off campus apartment so I pretty much had the place to myself.

I dropped my bag on the bed and walked to the bathroom, stripping off on my way and popping my clothes in my hamper by the door. I caught my reflection in the bathroom mirror and had to do a double take.

I didn’t look at all like myself, or at least the version of myself I’d grown accustomed to looking like.

My cheeks were flushed and my lips were upturned in a smile, but that wasn’t what caught my attention.

The thing that was most surprising was my eyes. They looked bright, lively and almost wild. I hadn’t seen myself look this way in forever and it caught me completely off guard.

I spent a lot of time faking being happy, mainly to appease friends and my parents but now? There was nothing artificial about the way I looked.

I looked happy.

Usually even if I happened to be in a good mood, reminiscing about past conversations with Stu brought me down and crushed me all over again. As my reflection stared back at me in the mirror I realised for the first time since Woodsbro thinking about him didn’t make me depressed, it didn’t make me wish I in fact stayed dead.

Thinking of that playful conversation made me realise how right Stu was. I never wanted to make the same mistake he made, I was one of the only people that knew what he was hiding from everyone and although this was different, I knew that that memory didn’t pop into my head out of nowhere.

I didn’t know Mickey well, we were just starting to become friends after all. But I hadn’t felt this happy, this content for far too long, if ever.

I touched the corners of my eyes as I looked at my reflection as I thought, maybe he was the right person?

Chapter Five HERE

[mrsaltieri-real]

Dabbled in making a mood board for my OC Dahlia Levine

[mrsaltieri-real]

His Perfect Victim (Mickey Altieri X OC!Dahlia Levine)

Chapter 5: Healing

Words: 2k

Warnings: langauge, fluff, angst if you squint, subtle jealousy, mentions of sex, feelings, SO. MANY. FEELINGS.

A small time jump of just a few weeks shows how Dahlia and Mickey’s new friendship has begun to blossom, but Dahlia is struggling to keep romantic thoughts buried, whilst Randy begins to show concern about the two’s growing bond.

A/N: The next chapter will be from Mickey’s POV which is VERY exciting. It’ll go further into Mickey’s feelings, what he’s been doing and just how much he knows about Dahlia with some surprises mixed in. Thank you to @bisexual-horror-fan for editing and beta reading this for me. My star. And also for the moodboard which I’m including in either all or most chapters because I just love it so fucking much!

Also @lizey-thornberry you wanted to be in the taglist so here you go!

I had to admit, being friends with Mickey is a lot more fun than I gave it credit for.

Once you get past his cocky arrogance, he was surprisingly funny and had a passion for movies that I myself could never quite understand but equally admired. The light in his eyes when he’d ramble on and on about his favourite movies and directors, his hands waving around in huge gestures as though he was literally trying to paint me a picture, was endearing. Somehow he knew never to steer the topic in the direction of horror movies, to which I assumed at the time to be thankful to Randy for.

We shared a morning statistics class. He would knock on my door every morning at nine o’clock on the dot with a cup of coffee in one hand and a bagel in the other. The days turned into weeks and he never stopped doing it. We grew closer and closer, developed inside jokes, and he really started to make me feel human again. I didn’t notice it at the time, but Randy seemed to really hate this development, watching in concern as Mickey and I’s friendship grew stronger and stronger by the day.

I was sitting in the college square and absentmindedly chewing on a granny smith apple as I read my book, waiting for Hallie and Sidney for a spontaneous girls' day out, when I jumped as Randy sat down across from me on the bench seemingly out of nowhere, forehead creased and blue eyes serious. He sat silently, staring at me for a few seconds longer than necessary, before I raised my eyebrows, closing the book resting in my lap.

“What?” I asked, voice slightly muffled from the bite of apple in my mouth, which I swallowed quickly.

“I need to talk to you.” He’d asked with a small shake of his head.

“Okay?” I asked, placing the apple on the bench and looking up at him.

He hesitated for a moment, eyes studying my face before dropping to his hands, playing with his fingers.

“Is something going on with you and Mickey?” He asked, eyes squinting, and voice unsure of himself.

I couldn’t help but roll my eyes at him, adjusting myself on the bench, so I was completely facing him, now sitting side-saddle as I responded, “What do you mean?”

“You two have been getting really close lately. I just know he can be kind of…” His voice trailed off, as if searching for the right word and settling on just, “-Mickey.” I couldn’t help but smile at his choice of wording. To be honest, he didn’t need to go into what that meant, it made complete sense.

I understood his concern. I knew Mickey’s reputation of being a bit of a slut, but at the time I’d buried any kind of romantic feelings I may have had to him far into the back corners of my mind, along with Billy, Stu and Woodsbro though, of course, for entirely different reasons. I wasn’t myself, wasn’t ready for any kind of relationship, physical or otherwise, and Mickey didn’t really seem like the kind of person who wanted to settle down. He was too erratic, too distracted and as much as I enjoyed our friendship, he was too complicated for my slowly healing heart to be able to handle.

That’s what I made myself believe, anyway.

“We’re friends.” I responded, my shoulders turning up just slightly, a mild shrug as I continued, “But you know that, you see us all the time.”

Randy’s lips turned down when I used the word “us”, to him probably making it seem like too possessive of a word for his liking, but I didn’t care. I was happy for the first time in far too long, why was this bothering him so much? I asked him that straight up, and he just sighed, eyes not moving from his hands while he answered with, “I just know him, okay? I don’t want you to get hurt.”

I smiled at my friend, my best friend, one of the few people left in the world I truly cared about, and reached out to place my hands over his to make him pause and look up at me.

“He’s not going to hurt me, Rand. We’re just friends, okay?” I spoke gently, maintaining eye contact with him as I did, to which his eyes widened in surprise.

His face broke into a smile suddenly as he announced, “Hey, I think that’s the longest you’ve looked me in the eye in six months!”

I couldn’t help but laugh, rolling my eyes and joking with him back, “Oh, right. Nice goatee. You know the 80s are dead, right?”

He scoffed at me, playfully pushing my hands off his. “Look at Dahlia with the jokes.”

“Absolutely not joking.” I deadpanned with the smile still on my face.

He laughed along with me, blue eyes finally warming up a little as the moment drifted off into comfortable silence. I heard my name faintly being called and glanced over Randy’s shoulder to see Hallie waving at me excitedly, Sidney walking by her side with her hands in her jacket pockets. She smiled warmly at me once she was closer, removing her hands and rubbing them together slightly due to the crisp fall air, asking me, “Are you ready to go?”

I went to look back at Randy to ensure he would be okay if I went, when I saw his gaze was diverted over my shoulder, his expression turned pissed off.

“She can’t, she has plans.”

His voice made me jump for the second time today, twisting around on the bench to look at him. Fuck, how did he do that?

Mickey stood behind me, I felt his hands suddenly rest on my shoulders, the contact sending a small shiver down my spine. He was always so warm, his grip firm and grounding. I suddenly found I didn’t want to go. As much as I loved Hallie and as much as Sidney was one of my best friends, whenever I was around him, I found myself not wanting to be with anybody else.

Feelings are pushed away? Yeah, right!

“But she-“

“Oh, no, that’s fine!” Sidney quickly spoke over Hallie, grabbing her friend's hand and squeezing firmly to shut her up, “We’ll catch you later, Dahlia.” She smiled at me widely, tugging Hallie off as she waved at me again, her pretty face looking confused.

A faint, “What was that about-” Reached me before they were out of earshot.

I turned and looked away from the girls to glance up at Mickey’s face, only to find he was looking at Randy, brows raised expectantly with a clear, dismissive look on his face.

I heard Randy sigh a little heavier than necessary and turned my head back to him to watch him clamber up from his seat, his gaze diverting from Mickey to smile at me with a small, “I’ll see you later,” before I quickly leaned forward and asked him, “We’ll have a movie night soon, yeah?”

He just nodded his head, turned on his heel and began to walk in the direction he came, head bowed slightly. I turned back around to look up at Mickey, his face entirely unbothered as he beamed down at me, but the smile faded fast when he saw my scowl.

“What?”

“We don’t have plans.” I commented, leaning back against the wooden table and my hands resting on my thighs.

“What’s with Meeks?” He asked, ignoring my comment as he looked away from me and nodded in Randy’s direction, “Kid looked like a kicked puppy. He asked you out, and you told him to fuck off or something?”

With a scoff, I put my book in my bag and grabbed the apple from the table, no longer hungry I decide against finishing the last bite and a half, leaning forward to toss it into the nearby trash can. I stood up and slung my bag over my shoulder. “No, Mickey. Why is that always the assumption you seem to jump to?” I asked as I began to walk mindlessly.

“Come on, it’s either one of two things. Either he’s too much of a pussy to ask you out, or you’ve rejected him a fair few times. Which is it?” He easily walked alongside be as he spoke, hands gesturing as though he was weighing out the two options.

“Neither, we’re just friends and always have been.”

“You don’t think he’s dying to get in your pants?” He asked, his tone only half teasing as he poked me in the ribs, prompting me to slap his hand away and making him laugh in the process.

“Shut up, you’re so disgusting. He’s my best friend, I’d never look at him like that.” I stopped under a tree, leaning against it and looking up at him.

He looked good today, his dark hair was wax free and falling a little over his forehead, his dark grey shirt was flatteringly tight, and he wore a soft brown hoodie to protect himself from the ever cooling crisp autumn breeze. His cheeks were flushed just a little, his eyes glinting a soft light brown from the setting sun.

God, the entire set up felt like my movie had shifted from a horror to a romance, and the realization was slowly beginning to dawn on me.

“You think you’ll ever look at anyone like that?” He asked casually, eyes flickering over my face to gauge my reaction.

Oh, fuck.

“What do you mean?” I asked carefully, trying to keep my expression neutral.

“If not Meeks, could you see yourself dating in the future or is that completely out of the cards for you?”

Without thinking, I shook my head, “No, it’s not completely off the table. I just want to find the right person to-“ I stopped myself. What the hell was wrong with me, if I told him I hadn’t had sex yet I knew I’d never hear the end of it. But as Mickey did so often, he took me by surprise by finishing my sentence for me, “Lose it to?”

I couldn’t help but since at the words, somehow they sounded more pathetic coming from him until I realized he hadn’t said it in a joking or teasing way, just very matter-of-factly as though he already knew. Maybe he did.

“Mhmm,” I responded, not trusting my voice. He laughed a little, moving forward to stand a little closer to me with his hand resting just to the side of my head as he ducked his head down a little to speak in a more hushed tone, “It isn’t that big of a deal, Dahl.”

“Easy for you to say, slut.” I muttered, unable to bring myself to meet his gaze. He just laughed at my comment, and I watched as he nodded his head from the corner of my eye in agreement.

“Yeah, I admit I get around. But that’s just me, it really isn’t that big of a deal. If anything, maybe I admire you more for it.”

“Oh yeah, that’s me, so admirable.” I finally looked at him, his eyes were gentle and warm and his lips looked so soft and desirable. My mind flew back to a few weeks ago, staring at my face in the mirror and looking at the light in my eyes, the colour in my cheeks and the smile on my face. No one had ever made me feel that way before, not ever. Mickey was a lot of things, an asshole, a man whore and a downright cunt at times. But he was also the only person that rekindled the fire inside of me, made me smile my first genuine smile in way too many months, and made me feel alive again.

The way he was staring at me, it seemed as though he was lost in his own thoughts, perhaps one’s similar to my own. I wish I knew what he was thinking and be comforted in the fact that I wasn’t crazy. He’d tried to kiss me once drunk at a party, leading to me rejecting his advance, and look how that ended. If I gave into him now, knowing full well that no matter how much I repressed them the feelings were undoubtedly there, could I survive that kind of heartache?

I’d never been in love, I had no idea what it felt like. I’d heard the phrase if you know, you know thrown around, and I couldn’t help but think of Sidney. She thought Billy really loved her and look how that ended, and I knew I wasn’t as strong of a person as she was, my heart was just beginning to piece back together from the betrayal of my cousin.

But Mickey wasn’t Stu, he wasn’t Billy and he wasn’t Ghostface.

I had no thoughts in my mind except one. This to and fro frame of thought had only lasted a matter of seconds before I unthinkingly closed the small gap that separated Mickey and me, my hands moving to his shoulders to pull myself up onto my toes and I kissed him, finally letting myself feel what I hadn’t even realised I’d been so desperately craving.

Chapter Six HERE

[mrsaltieri-real]

His Perfect Victim Masterlist (Mickey Altieri x Dahlia Levine)

This here is the masterlist for my new Mickey Altieri x OC!Dahlia Levine series.

As of now I’m unsure how many chapters there’s going to be. Anywhere between 25 and 35. This series is my baby and I’ve got it all planned out to the absolute T. I am so excited to be writing and sharing this with all of you!

Some chapters will contain smut, others won’t. This is a slowwww burn story but as a rule readers should be 18+ as the fic as a whole is rated Explicit.

⬇️⬇️⬇️Chapters below⬇️⬇️⬇️

His Perfect Victim

Chapter One: One Door Closes

Chapter Two: Stay Away

Chapter Three: Rejection

Chapter Four: Friends

Chapter Five: Healing

Chapter Six: Textbook Victim (Mickey’s POV)

Chapter Seven: Beginning of the End

Chapter Eight: Scars and Secrets

Chapter Nine: Better

Chapter Ten: Hello?

[mrsaltieri-real]

His Perfect Victim (Mickey Altieri x OC!Dahlia Levine)

Chapter 8: Scars and Secrets

Words: 3k

Warnings: language, angst, PTSD, fluff, stabbing, blood, arguing, violence, making out, suggestive, mickey actually being sweet, etc

This chapter was both sad and fun to write. My girl has so much trauma and it’s so hard to write but at the same time, so necessary for future chapters. Thank you one again to @bisexual-horror-fan for beta reading and editing this for me. Your additions only made it hurt so good even more. I love you dude.

@lizey-thornberry for tags.

Secrets. I have never much liked secrets.

My own, or other peoples, I’d rather people just not tell me anything. My reasoning was that it was better not knowing, so I wouldn’t accidentally run my mouth or feel the overwhelming, bone breaking and soul crushing pressure of having to lie about something.

But this is one secret I didn’t mind keeping, not at all.

Mickey and I decided to keep our “relationship test run” on the down low, and I honestly preferred it this way. It wasn’t because either one of us were ashamed or conflicted, it was simply because it was easier.

I didn’t need the disapproval from Randy, I could picture him sitting across from me, his expression tattling on his extreme displeasure and when questioned his lips would purse, eyebrows would raise, hands up he would say, “Nothing.” But it’s not nothing, I know it and he knows it, his fucking shitty tone showing it as clear as the sky is blue. I also couldn’t take the pressing questions from Hallie, could practically feel her hand crushing mine as she talks a mile a minute, it was enough to make a headache crop up if I lingered too long. I just wanted to remain in the newly blown bubble that was being with him.

There was a small kind of thrill in the sneaking around. He took me on secret dates to the movies or for dinner, always met me before and after classes, walked me to my lectures, just hanging out in the square and we talked.

Fuck, we talked about anything we could think of. It was mainly about him, that being my own choice. I didn’t like talking about myself, because the questioning will always lead to the one thing I didn’t want to talk about. That one thing, or rather one person, should be obvious.

Stu.

Even back then, I wasn’t stupid. Mickey knew Stu was my cousin and how close we were, so it was only natural for someone to be curious about the missed signs and warnings that he was who he was. He’d asked gently a couple of times, but I’d simply shrugged off the question or made a small dismissive comment and swiftly changed the subject back into his affliction with movies.

No matter how much time I spent with him, I never understood how he got so into his films. He’d watch the same ones a thousand times over and over again and be just as eager and engulfed as the first.

It was endearing, but I never understood. He would try to explain the complexities and deep-rooted meanings behind the films but was met with nothing but a blank stare which just made him laugh. No matter how much he expounded it never clicked for me, but he didn’t mind, if anything it seems like he relished the challenge and hoped it might happen, or, he was at least into the fun we had along the way while he kept trying.

I liked how he made me feel normal. How he didn’t look at me like the crazy girl from Woodsbro, but instead with intrigue and an intense curiosity that should have made me uncomfortable, instead of that though, it made me feel seen for the first time in my entire life.

But the thing that I liked most about him? Mickey never pressured me, never tried to coax me into absolutely anything I didn’t want to do. Honestly, his patience surprised me. He never failed to surprise me. If I continue to be honest, the annoying thought in the back of my head was consistently that he wouldn’t be able to hold out, wouldn’t be able to wait and would simply have to fuck it out of his system with somebody because I just wasn’t ready. I liked him, but I didn’t fully trust him enough to hand over that part of myself to him just yet.

But he never did.

Spending time with him was even more fun, even more playful. He told awful jokes, sending me into fits of laughter over and over again. But although we talked, there was always something… Off. Everyone had secrets, but there was just something about him that seemed a little more closed off than the average person.

He’d occasionally get phone calls and excuse himself on dates, coming back and being oddly quiet and distant afterwards. It was disconcerting, but I tried to not let my imagination go into overdrive. It was hard, but like I said. I hated secrets, so I remained blissfully ignorant.

Stupid, right?

One morning, after a couple of weeks of seeing Mickey, I got a phone call from Randy. I realized, over the last few weeks, I hadn’t really seen much of him. Of course, that was completely my fault and I felt terrible, so I eagerly agreed to meet up with him to talk.

I sat in the library, picking at my nails, and I felt nervous. Why did I feel so worried about seeing Randy? Because the kid saw straight through me. He’d know instantly if I lied to him about absolutely anything, and I hated knowing that I couldn’t tell him about one of the few things that brought even a small smattering of joy to my life.

He wouldn’t understand.

When I heard the doors swing open and glanced up and saw Randy walking down the small aisle, a halfhearted smile on his face as he sent a little wave my way as he approached me.

I smiled widely back at him before he settled down across the table from me with a sarcastic, “Long time no see.” My smile falls, and he asks, “Where the hell have you been?”

“I’ve been busy.” I replied with a dismissive wave of my hand before dropping it to fidget with one of the rings on my fingers. His eyes dropped to the action, eyebrows raising a fraction.

“Busy with Mickey?” He asked, a strange and almost biting tone to his voice that made me give him a look. He was refusing to look at me, as if caught up in how nimble fingers twirled the ring around and around.

“Don’t start, Randy.” I said with a sigh, I stopped fussing with polished sliver, leaning back on the chair.

His eyes are back on me as he insists, “We don’t talk anymore, Dahlia. We haven’t in weeks, and I’m assuming that’s thanks to him.”

I said nothing, simply staring at him with narrowed eyes.

A beat of silence, heavier than I’d like. He breaks the tension and says just what I expected him to, “You lied to me, you told me nothing was going on between you and Mi-“

“Why the hell do you care?” I interrupted him, my voice sharper than I intended it to be. I don’t soften my tone as I continue, “So what I’m hanging out with him, why the fuck does it matter, Randy?”

“Jesus Christ, Dahlia. Don’t be so transparent, you’re a lot of things, but stupid isn’t one of them.” Randy rolled his eyes, before his hand came up, rubbing over his face before he continued, “He’s a fucking asshole, why would you waste your time on him? After everything you’ve been through with-“

“You know what-“ I interrupted him again, standing up, palms smacking against the wood as I did, Randy jumping slightly at how loud and sudden it was. I leaned over, snatching my bag off the seat next to me with a scoff, “- Fuck this. You’re the one who told me that Mickey makes me seem like a person again, and now you’re telling me I’m wasting my time with him? Fuck you, I don’t owe you or anyone else an explanation, so get off my dick.” I snapped as I angrily walked behind his chair toward the exit.

“Yeah, spoken like a true fucking lady. You know what, don’t come crying to me when he breaks your heart, Dahlia.” Randy swivelled in his chair, staring at my retreating form as he yelled after me, earning a few angrily hushed whispers from other students.

I ignore him, hands hit the door hard, swinging it open and stepping out into the bright sunlight again. As soon as I was outside, I sucked in the fresh air, the door swings closed, and I stepped to the side, my eyes closing as I leaned against the cool brick of the building.

I loved Randy, he meant the world to me, but his growing dislike for Mickey at that moment was killing me. I hated it. I hated that my best friend only somewhat tolerated the guy I was seeing and vice versa. Mickey had had plenty to say about Randy over the last couple of weeks, stuff I instantly shut down.

“Come on, Dahl,” Mickey had said with a roll of his eyes as he sat on my bed, snatching up my pillow and shaking it out, before putting it back down and leaning against it, he was looking at me with an amused expression, “Meeks is down bad for you and everyone can fucking see it!”

“Someone jealous?” I’d asked playfully, walking over to him, a knee hitting the mattress, his eyes dropped momentarily before flicking back up to meet my gaze, as I get onto the bed. A few easy moves on my knees and then perching myself on his lap. His hands automatically rested on my waist as the breathtaking smile took over his face.

“No, I’m just observant. I don’t do jealousy.” He’d said nonchalantly with a slight shrug.

“Oh, you don’t do jealously?” I scoffed, hands moving to the back of his neck, fingers lacing together and pressing over his spine. “Bullshit.”

His smile shifts slightly, more of a half smirk as he asks, “What have I got to be jealous about? I’ve got you, he doesn’t, and he never fucking will.”

He had an edge to his voice, something I didn’t catch on to, and now? I desperately wish I did.

After I got home from the awful meeting with Randy, Mickey was already waiting for me, sat on my bed with his eyes glued to a television that definitely didn’t belong to me.

“How the hell did you get in here?” I asked with a sigh, tossing my keys into the bowl by the door and dropping my bag next to the door.

Mickey’s eyes flickered to me, a small smile on his lips as he shrugged, “Not gonna tell you that, let’s just say I’ve got my ways.” He replied, arms automatically opening to me. I obliged him, strode forward and fell onto the bed and into him, letting him take me into his arms and kiss me softly on the lips, the smile still present on his face.

“I got you a television and a VCR.” He mumbled against my mouth before pulling away and gesturing to it, “I’m going to get you back into movies if it’s the last thing I do.”

“Sure. And it’ll be the last thing you ever do if you try and get me to watch Halloween again.” I muttered back, making him chuckle and lie back down on the bed, carefully pulling me next to him.

“You look sad, what’s wrong?” he asked straight away, the smile quickly turning into a frown.

“I don’t want to talk about it.” I said softly, raising my finger to trace the small frown lines appearing on his face. “Let’s do something else then.” He said gently, moving to hover over me a little, his lips touching my throat, my jaw and then my lips softly. It had no hidden meaning behind it, just very tender and sweet, so much so it made my argument with Randy almost entirely leave me.

Almost.

The ending credits to a movie on the VCR were rolling, how long had he been here? We were making out in my bed, his hands were moving over my body, light as a feather and honestly, it felt good. I felt normal, no trauma, no pain, no memories. That was until, Mickey’s fingers lightly grazed over the scar of my stab wound.

Everything changed very quickly after that. It felt like all the air was sucked out of the room, stomach drops and heart pounds, sweat springs to the surface of my skin.

I could see everything. It was like I was there again and Billy Loomis stood over me, face furiously excited above me, his brown eyes wild and menacing as his body loomed over mine.

I felt his body lower, one of his hands gripping my throat as the cold steel of his knife embedded in my torso, once, twice, three times. I gasped, pathetically trying and failing to move, to push him off of me, but he just held me there, his strength far too much for me as he twisted the knife inside of me until I screamed soundlessly. My head twisting to the side and my eyes meeting Stu’s wide blue ones. He looked away, flinching just slightly at the weakening sounds of my agonized gasps. I could feel my own blood spilling from my stomach, staining the linoleum beneath me with a rapid flow, completely coating my skin, soaking into my shirt.

“Billy-“ Stu spoke, his tone strained as his eyes shifted to Billy, unable to look at me.

“She’s a loose fucking end, Stu! Family or not.” Billy spat, forcing his weight onto the knife as my body began to go limp, eyes still fixed on my cousin and unable to move away. If I was going to die, I wanted him to be the last person I saw. Not this part of him, but the fond memories. Growing up together, playing together in his backyard, wreaking havoc during family gatherings, “What? Do you really think she’s just not going to tell anyone what we did?”

“She wouldn’t-“ Stu tried uselessly to argue, but that’s the last thing I heard before everything turned black, and I gasped out a final breath.

“Dahlia? Dahlia- Ow, fuck, Dahlia!”

My eyes snapped open and Mickey had my hands pinned over my head. I gasped breathlessly, head falling down to look at my exposed stomach. No blood, just the healed over scar slightly protruding above the smooth surface of my skin.

Mickey’s eyes were confused and concerned as he stared down at me, finally releasing my wrists as he watched the realization wash over my face, the tears welling in my eyes.

I didn’t cry, I wasn’t that person anymore. But fuck, the tears suddenly wouldn’t stop as I stared up at Mickey, completely frozen as I noticed the slight faint red mark beginning to blossom across his cheek.

“What happened there, huh?” His voice was gentle as he slowly sat back on the bed, hair messy and ruffled from my fingers previously woven through the thick dark strands.

I shook my head once, arms shakily moving to wrap around myself protectively as my eyes moved to fixate on the wall, counting one, two, three, one, two, three over and over again in my head to try and relax myself.

“Dahl?” His voice was quiet, almost hesitant as he leaned forward a little, head tilted slightly to the side.

“I’m sorry.” I mumbled quietly, still not being able to look him in the eye.

“For what? Oh, this?” His hand rose to his cheek and he chuckled gently with a shake of his head, “I’ve had worse.”

I sniffed once, forcing myself to look at him and reached out my fingers to lightly touch the flushed red skin and I sighed, cringing in embarrassment and guilt. “I’d never do that on purpose. I just-“ I sighed, dropping my hand and pulling my legs up to rest my forehead on my knees. He stayed quiet, waiting for me to continue.

“It hasn’t happened in a while, but sometimes I get these… Flashbacks of what happened in Woodsbro. It’s like I’m there again. So when you touched my scar, I guess it just brought it all back.”

My voice was muffled, but I knew he understood me when I felt his hand rest softly on my shoulder, and he said lightly, “Hey, we’ve all got our demons. It’s not going to be like that forever, Dahl.”

“I know. I’m sorry I hit you.” I peeked up at his face and was surprised to see he was half smiling at me, expression torn.

“Pfft, you’re sorry? You got a mean right hook on you baby, don’t apologize for that. At least I know you can protect yourself if-“ His voice trailed off quickly, and he shook his head, gently gripping my bicep in his large hand and pulling me next to him, “There’s no rush, okay? If you aren’t ready, if things are too much right now, we can wait.”

“Are you sure?” I asked, eyeing him and feeling a little skeptical. At that moment, Randy’s previous statement about Mickey breaking my heart couldn’t be ringing further from the truth.

His smile warmed, and he nodded, his thumb rubbing soothing circles into my arm. I didn’t miss the quick glance downward to my stab wound before his eyes flashed back to mine.

“It’s gross, I know.” I sighed, gently moving so I could tug my shirt down, self consciousness rife in the motion.

“Gross? No. I think it adds character.” He commented, letting go of my arm as his phone buzzed softly on my bedside table. He grabbed it quickly, eyes scanning whatever text he received with a small frown before he stood up, sliding his cell into his back pocket. He stood over me for a moment, his finger moving under my chin to lift my eyes from his disappeared phone and to his face as he spoke, “I gotta go ice my cheek,” he half joked, but his expression remained the same, “Are you going to be okay?”

I nodded, not trusting my voice as his head ducked down, responding to his lips halfheartedly, which he didn’t seem to notice as he left my dorm, leaving me sat on my bed staring at the closed door.

CHAPTER NINE HERE

[mrsaltieri-real]

His Perfect Victim (Mickey Altieri X OC!Dahlia Levine)

Chapter Thirteen: A Deal’s a Deal

Words: 3.2k

Warnings: Language, mentions of past trauma, mention of Stu, mention of Tatum, family trauma, Dahlia’s parents being cunts, smut, oral sex, (m and f receiving) fingering, cum swallowing, etc

A/N: I KNOW, I KNOW, it’s been a hot minute I’ve just been real busy. My birthdays on the 28th so I’ve been planning shit for then, this may be the last thing I post as a 22 year old but I’ve got a faceriding with Mickey thing in the works so who the hell knows! Thank you to the sexy ass @bisexual-horror-fan for beta reading and editing once again, could NOT do this without ya! Let’s go!

@lizey-thornberry

“So, how are you two doing?” Randy stopped at a bench in the park, flopping down and looking up at me curiously, “Is Mickey treating you good?”

“God, relax Dad.” I scoffed, sitting next to him and crossing my legs, tucking a strand of hair that had fallen free from my loose braid behind my ear, “Things are going great, actually.”

Randy scanned my face, watching as my cheeks flushed pink and let out a laugh, poking my ribs playfully. “Oh, they are, are they?”

I pushed him back with a laugh, rolling my eyes at him. He didn’t need to know any of that. “Shut up, dickhead.”

Randy softens slightly, his smile is more fond than anything as he says quietly, “Sorry I was such a jackass, he makes you happy. That’s all I could want for you, so as long as he’s treating you the way you deserve, I don’t have an issue.”

I raised my eyebrows at him, biting the inside of my cheeks to stop from laughing, that wouldn’t go over well right now, not when he is being so genuine and earnest. “Oh, wow. Thanks for the stamp of approval, Rand. What’re you going to do if he doesn’t, beat him up?”

Randy flexed slightly before shrugging with a sarcastic, “What, you don’t think I could take him?”

The mood lighter, the momentary sweetness has passed.

You do laugh this time as you tell him, “Honey, you couldn’t take me in the eighth grade.”

“First of all, it was you and Tatum, I’m only one guy. Besides, girls go through puberty before guys, and you two were ridiculously tall for a couple of fourteen-year-olds.”

I laughed again before letting out a small sigh and smiling a little sadly, “I miss her.”

Randy expression matched mine, “Yeah, me too.”

Randy hesitated for a moment, leaning back against the rotting wood, before breaking the comfortable silence. “There’s something I wanted to talk to you about, actually.”

I opened my hands, inviting him to tell me, but he hesitated again, his teeth catching his bottom lip as his eyes flitted from my face and to his lap before I pushed his shoulder, looking at him curiously, “What?”

“It’s coming to the end of the semester, my mom wants me to go home, back to Woodsboro for a few weeks. Sidney’s going to see her dad too.” My smile faltered into nothing and I looked at him blankly, my body going rigid. I knew what was coming.

“My mom spoke to your mom, your folks want you to come home for a few-“

“No.” I interrupted immediately, my whole demeanour immediately switching.

“Dahlia-“ Randy began to talk, but I cut him off sharply with a shake of my head, “No, Randy. I swore I’d never go back there, and I don’t want to see them, and I don’t know why they’re getting you and your family involved in this. Besides, I’m fine here.”

I felt Randy’s hand on my knee and I sighed, pressing my hand against my forehead and saying softly, “I can’t go back there, Rand. I’m not ready, maybe I never will be.”

“So you’re just going to hide out here with Mickey forever and ever, live in your freshly blown bubble and avoid your parents for the rest of your life? Come on, you know if you don’t go and see them, they’ll come and see you.”

“Yeah, I doubt that. I haven’t had so much as a phone call from them since I left. They just want to sweep everything under the rug, pretend it never happened.” My hand dropped to my ring and I began to fiddle with it, not fighting the urge to screw with it.

“I mean, isn’t that what you’ve kind of been doing too? You never talk about him, Dahl.”

Randy’s overall tone was soothing, but I felt my face crumple and the silver of my ring began to blur. “I don’t actively not talk about Stu, but people just want to know about all the bad stuff. How we didn’t see the signs, how I couldn’t have possibly known the kind of person my own cousin was. Besides, the only time my family talks about Stu is to get pity points. You saw that stupid fucking documentary they did, right? How much money do you think they got paid after that?”

“You don’t owe anyone an explanation for anything, D.” Randy’s thumb drew circles on my knee, choosing to divert from my last statement, and I smiled at him sadly.

“But I should’ve noticed. I knew how much he cared for Billy and how much he was there for him when his mom left, he’d tell me about stuff. Until he didn’t, that’s when I should have known something was going on.” I sighed, leaning back on the bench and closing my eyes. “My mom and dad only care about their appearance, Rand. They’re doing everything in their power to make themselves seem like the victims in this, I don’t want to be around that.”

It was easier to remember Stu how he was when we were growing up. A big, clumsy, protective goofball. The only person in my family other than me that didn’t care about money and status.

“What should I tell my parents?” He asked softly, removing his hand from my leg in favour of grabbing my hand and pulling me up.

“Tell them to tell my parents I’m fine here.”

After hanging out for a few hours off campus, going bowling and getting some food, Randy and I walked back to college. He gave me a hug, telling me he’s always there if I needed to talk.

I loved Randy, he was one of the most important people in the world to me.

As we went to part ways, so I could go and see Mickey, he paused hesitantly, hovering a little and biting his lip.

“God, what now?” I groaned, feeling the further impending mass of bad news.

“There was something else… I, uh… You remember Gale Weathers?”

I scoffed, rolling my eyes. Of course, the tabloid snob turned “super reporter”, how could I forget.

Randy took my scoff as a yes and continued slowly, “Her book, it, uh…” Randy hesitated again, face strained, as if he were trying to find the words to make whatever he was about to say easier.

“Her book what, Randy?”

“She got the movie deal.”

I stared at him blankly for a moment, not registering what he was talking about, until I did.

“Are you fucking serious?”

Randy nodded his head, eyes scanning me anxiously.

“Does Sidney know?”

“She only found out yesterday, too, everyone did. You got a new number, right? Avoid the news? Sidney didn’t think you’d want to know right now, but you have the right to.”

Gale Weathers. That fucking bitch.

Although I was never mentioned by name in her book, she’d slandered my entire family to high fucking hell, as well as Sidney’s. I remembered comforting her for weeks after Gale’s book was released, watching her relive every painful memory over and over again. She’d never read it, never wanted to, but it seemed as though everyone else in the world had.

Sidney coming to college was big for her, and it was hard. The “that’s her” looks nearly sent her into complete isolation as it had done to me, that was until she was roomed with Hallie and met Derek and Mickey. She reinvented herself, finally becoming the best version of her. And now? I could only imagine how she was feeling.

“Where is she?” I asked Randy. I wanted to make sure she was okay. Not only had I been neglecting my friendship with Randy lately but with Sidney too. She was busy, I was busy. Sidney was probably the most understanding person in the world, so soft-spoken and so strong it was ridiculous. Right now, all I wanted to do was go and make sure she was okay.

“She’s staying with Derek until she goes to see her dad, just give her a few days, yeah?”

I agreed, leaning forward to peck Randy’s cheek and wished him a good night before beginning to walk back toward my dorm room.

Things were finally okay again, Sidney was happy, so were Randy and I.

I knew this was just going to open a can of worms and feelings that we’d all rather stay dead and buried.

As I walked toward my dorm, my eye caught a familiar car, but my brain was too crowded to register who it belonged to. That was until I rounded the corner and stopped dead in my tracks, mouth falling open and eyes wide.

“Mom? Dad?”

My mother turned around, eyes furious, and my dad smiled sheepishly at me. I stayed still, my feet rooted into the concrete beneath me as they began to walk closer to me, my mom already shouting.

“We sit on a plane for five hours, in fucking coach, no less. We land, and what do we see? A message from the Meeks’ saying that you don’t want to see us?”

I stared at my mother, watching the spittle fly from her mouth as she attempted to discipline me like I was a fucking child rather than a nineteen-year-old.

“What are you doing here?” I asked simply, teeth grinding together.

“Oh, not even a hi mom, hi dad, so nice to see you.”

“Well, you didn’t raise a liar.” I muttered, pushing a hand through my hair. “What are you doing here?” I asked again.

“We wanted to fly out and surprise you, honey.” My dad spoke next, voice a lot softer than my moms as he halted in front of me, face conflicted as if he was considering giving me a hug.

“Right, sure you did. This has nothing to do with Gale Weathers’ movie deal, I’m sure.”

I wasn’t stupid, the one thing my parents loved was money. More than they loved me, more than they loved each other. I knew they were just dying to rinse as much as they could out of this. The fact their only daughter was best friends with “The Prescott Girl”? Icing on their fucked up cake.

“I’m not going back to Woodsboro, okay? What, you want to try and do a big ass press conference again? Profit off your daughter dying and coming back, off of Sidney’s trauma? Yeah, no. Sorry you had a wasted trip. Bye.”

I pushed past them, my mother's hand tried to wrap around my arm, but I shoved it off, glaring at her and snapping out, “Don’t,” at the same time my dad begged, “Angela, don’t.”

She looked me up and down, ignoring my dad and shaking her head.

“We pay for you to go to this college, send you money, so you can live, and you can’t do this for us?”

I laugh, bitter and sad, “Oh, I’m sorry, mom. Sorry for not letting you exploit me or Sidney’s family for your own fucked up gain.”

“Drop the attitude, Dahlia.” She scoffed at me.

I rolled my eyes, crossing my arms over my chest tightly, and scoffed at her. She looked me over again, shaking her head again as if what she saw disgusted her.

“Dahlia, we’re sorry we haven’t been here for you.” I glanced at my dad as he spoke, doubt filling my face. “We weren’t there for you when you needed us, and we’re sorry for that.”

“Yeah, it sure seems like it-“

I felt a set of hand rest on my shoulders and for once, didn’t jump. I knew exactly who it was. I felt my eyes drop closed for a second as I leaned into his touch, practically feeling the curious stare Mickey was looking at my parents with over my head.

“Oh, who's this?” My mother’s voice had shifted to a lighter tone, an instinct whenever anyone else was within proximity. Couldn’t let strangers know what a raging bitch she was now, could she?

“Great.” I muttered under my breath before clearing my throat, hand reaching out to gesture from my parents to him. “Mickey, these are my parents, Angela and Jared. Mom, Dad, this is Mickey.”

“And Mickey is?” My mom asked, eyes flirting from my face and up to his. I wished I could see his expression.

“My boyfriend.”

Both of my parents’ eyes widened for a minute, looking from me to Mickey like they couldn’t believe it.

I felt Mickey move to stand beside me, and I finally glanced at his face. He looked almost curious as he eyed my parents before slowly extending a hand to my dad, switching on the charm quickly. “Nice to meet you, sir.”

My dad shook his hand, and I noticed he flinched just slightly at Mickey’s grip.

“Ma’am.” Mickey withdrew his hand, nodding slightly at my mother who was still staring at him a little dumbfounded.

“Boyfriend?” My mom finally spoke, ignoring Mickey and pulling her eyes back to me. “Really? And is he the reason you won’t come home?“

“You know why.” My voice came out sharper than I intended, and I sighed, glancing up at Mickey and back at them, “It’s late, can we please talk tomorrow? I’m guessing you’re staying at a hotel.”

“Dahlia-“ I shook my head once at my dad, grabbing Mickey’s hand and tugging him along behind me. He muttered, “Nice meeting you,” before quickly following me into my building.

“They seem nice.” He said sarcastically with a small smile once we were in my room, plopping himself down on my bed. “What are they doing here?”

“They want me to go home because it’s the end of the semester.” I told him, shrugging off my jacket and carefully placing it on the arm of my couch. My new phone buzzed, my phone number must’ve been given to my parents by the college, great.

Tomorrow evening, 6pm at Lakeside Restaurant. We’ll talk about all of this, love Dad.

I stared at the message for a second before responding with a blunt, okay.

I joined him on my bed, beginning to loosen my hair from its braid.

“What, you don’t want to?” He asked, swatting my hands away and gesturing for me to turn around, to which I quickly obeyed, letting him untie my hair swiftly and leaning into his touch. It was ridiculous how comfortable he made me feel, how all of my worries seemingly melted away as soon as I was with him.

“God, no. I never want to go back there.”

He hummed quietly, combing out my hair gently with his fingers before saying, “I’ve got nowhere to be either.”

I tipped my head back to look at him, watching his lips turn up into his heartbreaking smile as I did so, “No?”

“Nope. Randy and Sid going to see their families for break?” I nodded, shifting backward, so I was nestled into his arms, head resting on his shoulder. “I like the thought of having you all to myself for a few weeks.” He whispered into my ear, his voice sending goosebumps across my body.

“Oh, I bet you do.” I laughed, turning my head to kiss his jaw gently.

His face was serious, his hand settled on my hip and pulled me over, so I was straddling him, my hands playing with the back of his soft brown hair.

“You want me to come with you to speak to your folks tomorrow?” He asked seriously, lifting a hand to wipe some hair from my face. “Moral support and what not?”

I shook my head quickly, biting my lip.

“Why?”

“They’re very… judgy. You think they’re dicks now after two minutes of interaction? You don’t want to be sitting with them for an hour-long dinner, trust me.” I smiled fondly at him, sliding my hand from the back of his neck down his chest and torso. I felt his breathing change slightly and couldn’t stop my smile from widening.

I had to admit, it felt good knowing I had just as big an effect on him as he had on me. I wanted nothing more but to forget about the array of bad news thrown at me today, forget that my parents have turned up at my school unannounced.

“I’ll make you a deal.” He offered, moving his head forward to gently kiss my pulse. I shivered, only managing to hum in response.

“You let me come with you tomorrow, I’ll make you cum on my tongue till you can’t fucking take it.”

How could I say no to that?

Very quickly, I found myself lying naked on my bed, Mickey’s head between my thighs and his mouth latched onto my clit, one finger very tentatively curling inside of me.

“Fuck, you’re good.” I sighed, back arching and pressing my cunt into his face. He laughed against me, pulling back slightly, with the tip of his tongue still licking circles at my clit. I looked back down at him, watching as he fisted his cock whilst he ate my pussy, the sight only driving me closer and closer to the edge.

He edged me for about a half hour, dragging me closer to the edge only to snatch it away, a shit eating grin on his face as he watched my expression change and felt my cunt tense around his skilful fingers.

“I’ve made you into a desperate little slut, haven’t I?” He asked, pulling his mouth back and using his fingers to rub at my clit instead. I groaned again at the change of pressure, nodding my head quickly in agreement.

“Your fault.” I mumbled. “You promised you’d make me cum, you’re not coming tomorrow-“

He cut me off with licking a strong stripe up my pussy, halting at my clit and cradling it with his mouth, sucking indulgently and his finger pumping faster.

My hands threaded into his hair, forcing him to stay exactly as he was as I pushed myself down against his face again.

This time he didn’t snatch it away, letting me cum with a loud whimper on his face, before quickly moving onto his knees, pulling me up by my arm.

Without hesitation and knowing exactly what he wanted, I took him into my mouth quickly, only having to take him down my throat once before he came in my mouth with a groan, his head falling back and his hands in my hair, fisting it gently as he twitched and shot ribbons down my throat.

He gently pulled his cock from my mouth, falling back down onto the bed and pulling me with him, my head resting in his chest. I listened to his heart thudding, his chest heaving as he sighed, pressing his lips softly to my hairline.

“I needed that.” I said happily, breaking the comfortable silence.

“I know you did, baby.” He mumbled into my hair. “I was only half joking about me coming with you tomorrow, I get it’s something you need to do by yourself.”

“No, no.” I lifted my head, looking up at him and cupped his cheek, running my thumb along his cheek bone softly. “A deal’s, a deal.”

[mrsaltieri-real]

His Perfect Victim (Mickey Altieri x OC!Dahlia Levine)

Chapter Ten: Hello?

Words: 2.2k

Warnings: not a lot of warnings here, language, brief mentions of Dahlia’s trauma, therapy, making up, mentions of sex, mentions of angst, etc

A/N: More of a filler chapter than anything, but it’s still important. We’re making some serious progress and it’s a big push forward so don’t miss it! Next chapter is going to be heavier, smuttier and have some angst thrown in for good measure. You’re not going to want to miss it! Thank you once again to @bisexual-horror-fan for your help, beta reading and editing this for me. I appreciate your help more than I can put into words!

@lizey-thornberry as you want to be tagged.

Therapy sucks. Therapy sucks even more when it wasn’t even your choice to attend sessions to begin with.

Sitting in front of a stranger staring at me with faux concern was agitating to say the least, especially when she’s getting paid a hundred dollars an hour to do just that, stare at me until I break and confess all my deep dark secrets and let my trauma seep through the cracks left behind from Woodsboro. The only reason I attended in the first place was due to my parents and my doctors.

I’d spent the first few sessions sitting in silence, watching as the arms of the clock ticked and tocked until an hour went by, and I could go back to moping in peace.

I was getting better now, slowly. That wasn’t down to the therapist, the doctors or my family. It wasn’t down to Sidney or Randy. It wasn’t even really down to Mickey as much as at the time I believed that to be the case. No, I now know it was down to me, giving myself the opportunity to be raw and open with another human being, completely vulnerable in ways I never had before.

Life’s too short for regrets, so I don’t regret it at all.

The one thing I did regret, however, was how I’d left things with Randy.

I’d been seriously neglecting my friendship with him, and I knew reconciliations had to be made sooner rather than later. The issue was the two of us were both too stubborn to make the first move into forgiveness. Even as kids, when we fought, we simply wouldn’t talk to one another until one of us would throw a toy at the other and hit them across the head. But we were adults now, and I don’t think I’d get very far if I threw a Barbie doll at him anymore, as amusing the image in my head was.

“Dahlia Levine?” The sweet looking receptionist called my name with a warm smile, to which I half-heartedly returned as I forced myself to stand up, making my way down the familiar hall to my therapist's office, Dr. Lorraine Galloway.

The door was already open, but I still tapped my knuckles lightly on the wood twice, and she twisted around in her chair, nodding and smiling politely when she saw me, loosely gesturing toward the huge armchair across from her. I obeyed quietly, settling down on the comfortable cushion and folded my hands in my lap.

“How are you doing today, Miss Levine?” She asked, the notebook already settled onto her lap, simple, small, lined paper and one of those curled metal spines that binds the pages together, looking like a coiled phone cord. Her hand rests on the page, holding her dark blue and gold fountain pen, her position in her chair is relaxed, one leg folded over the other as she observed me, waiting for my response.

I shrugged, eyes trained on my hands as I responded, “Better, I guess? And please call me Dahlia.” I’d already had a fair number of sessions with her and asked to be referred to by my first name every single time, it was beginning to annoy me and that must have been evident in my tone, judging how I heard the light scribble of pen to paper, making me suppress the urge to roll my eyes. Was she seriously making a note of that?

“How’s college treating you, Dahlia? I haven’t seen you in a little over two months.”

Shrugging again, fingers itching to twist my ring, I replied, “Things have been good. I haven’t felt the need to bother coming in.”

I could feel her eyes fixed on me, and it was already pissing me off. Dr. Galloway wasn’t like my old therapist back in Woodsboro. She actively tried to engage with me, try and get me to speak and fucking feel, although she learned fairly quickly I was completely unwilling to discuss Stu. No amount of therapy will ever make me want to consciously relive any of that.

“Is there anything you’d like to discuss or share? You have the whole hour, remember?”

I hesitated for a second, teeth sinking into my bottom lip. Dr. Galloway seemed to grasp at the straws and quickly added, “I’m here to listen,” before lightly placing her notebook onto her desk, leaning back in her chair and pushing her glasses up her nose.

“I… Uh…” I shifted awkwardly in my seat, settling on playing with my ring to try to comfort myself, push myself into talking. “Could I talk about my friend, Randy?”

“You can talk about whatever and whoever you want to, Dahlia. These sessions are yours.” Her hands opened, as if inviting me to go on, to which I awkwardly did so.

With a small sigh, I began to tell her about the last few months. About Mickey and Randy, and how impossibly guilty I felt that I’d been neglecting my friendship with the latter, practically threw him aside for some guy I was dating. She listened intently, and it honestly felt good that someone was listening to what I had to say with no judgment, even if she was getting paid hundreds of dollars to do so.

“Has Mickey ever given you or any of your friends reason to think he’d hurt you?” Dr. Galloway asked once I’d told the tale. Hesitating again, I nodded my head once, and she rested her chin against her hand, eyes urging me to go on.

“Well, a few months ago, before we started dating, Mickey fucked-” I cringed slightly at the word choice before correcting myself, “-sorry, slept with this girl at a party. Tricked me into going into the bedroom, so I’d see it.” I physically flinched at the memory, seeing that girl's face twisted in pleasure and Mickey fucking her from behind, eyes fixed on my face with that sick smirk on his face.

I hadn’t thought about that in a while, suppressed it to the dark dusty corners in my mind along with my other painful memories I’d sooner forget all about.

“And did Randy know about that?”

“No, I never told him. But I think he had an idea because it was after that night he started having reservations about Mickey and I- I just don’t know what to do.” Fuck, is this why people went to therapy? I could feel so many suppressed emotions rushing to the surface so fast it was making my head spin.

“Maybe your friend has a reason to be concerned, then.” She suggested with a small shrug.

“He doesn’t.” I insisted firmly, halting the twisting of the ring and shaking my head, “Yeah, Mickey can be kind of a dick, but no one else sees the side of him that I do. How patient and gentle he can be.”

“Then maybe that’s something you need to talk about with Randy. Communication in friendships is important, and it’s clear that he’s important to you.”

Randy was important to me. I thought about it as I walked back to campus, shivering at the crisp air and silently cursing myself for forgetting to bring my jacket with me.

He was important to me, so was Mickey in a very different way. I thought about how much I missed Randy, discussing everything and anything with him until the day turned to night. How he was a huge part of the reason I was even able to recover, him staying at my bedside whilst I was in the hospital, doing everything he could to make me smile, the perfect friend.

Once on campus, I found myself making a beeline toward the one room I knew Randy would be in; the theatre. He enjoyed working on film projects there, so I wasn’t surprised to walk up the steps and see him perched on top of a prop wall, legs swinging and brows furrowed in concentration as he squinted into the lens of his camera.

“Hey, Rand.”

He jumped at the sound of my voice, camera nearly tumbling out of his hands as he looked at me, blue eyes wide. His face twisted to something akin to indifference as he eyed me up and down, lips pursed, before he mumbled, “Hey.”

I anxiously inched closer to him until I was leaning beside him, looking up at him seriously, “I’m sorry.”

His expression changed to shock as his head cocked to the side, and he exclaimed, “The fuck did you just say to me?”

The grin broke out across my face before I could even register it, playfully pushing Randy’s leg with a, “Shut up, dickhead.”

“Sorry, I just never thought I’d live to see the day Dahlia Levine apologizes to me.” His tone was only half teasing.

“It’s long overdue. I’m sorry, I’ve been a really shitty friend lately, Randy.” I said with a sigh, eyes dropping.

“Dahlia, it’s not you I blame, you know that.” His tone had an edge to it, and I instantly knew who he was in fact blaming.

I looked back up at him, practically pleading now as I spoke, “Randy, please, you don’t have anything to worry about. Mickey isn’t going to do anything.”

Randy rolled his eyes with a scoff, carefully placing the camera down beside him, “So you actually are dating him? For fuck's sake, D.”

I was getting mad, but I kept it inside, taking his free hand that wasn’t gripping the camera slightly harder than was probably necessary into mine and squeezing it gently.

“Even if it is a mistake, it’s my mistake to make. He makes me happy, Randy.”

Randy frowned, looking down at me with his brows knitted together, “He really makes you happy?”

“Yes, he really does.” I spoke honestly, maintaining eye contact with him all the while. Randy knew I didn’t lie, so he had no reason to suspect otherwise. He simply sighed, placing the camera in his other hand down beside him before moving it to place over the top of mine and nodded his head, saying softly, “Fine. For God’s sake, I still think he’s a fucking dick, but if anyone deserves happiness, it’s you.”

“So we’re friends again?” I asked hopefully, biting my lip as I awaited his response.

He rolled his eyes at me again, this time affectionately and released my hands, jumping down from the wall and pulling me into a tight hug. I closed my eyes, my arms wrapping around his waist as I hugged him back and his chin rested on the top of my head, the feeling comforting and familiar.

“Of course we are.” He said. I could tell he was smiling, but I know it didn’t quite reach his eyes in the way it should have, but at that moment, I was too happy to have my friend back to take much notice.

If only I’d noticed. If only I’d listened and was more critical.

After that, things were better, at least for a while. Mickey and I were growing closer with every passing day, listening to music in his dorm and just chatting mindlessly about anything and everything. He showed me some bands I’d never heard of when the movies got a little too much. I could tell his built-up wall was gradually beginning to crumble, allowing me to really get to know him, or the part of him he wanted me to know, but he was still always just a little distant. Not as much as before our night together, but a hint of detachment still lingered in the air.

Something was happening. I knew that was the case, something about it just spells it out, you know, like when a storm is coming in the summer? The lack of sound and the feeling in the air tattles on what is to come, announcing it long before a single flash of lightening or clap of thunder does.

One night, Mickey had already fallen asleep, but I simply couldn’t, so I just laid flat on my back, staring unseeing at the dully illuminated ceiling from the streetlights outside, when my phone began to buzz quietly on Mickey’s bedside table.

I glanced at his alarm clock, the bright letters stating it was three thirty in the morning.

Who the fuck would be calling me at this time.

I still felt uneasy about receiving phone calls and everybody in my life already knew that, but the anxiety that it could be an emergency got the better of my, so I flicked the phone open, taking in the unknown caller printed across the screen for a second before answering it, pressing the phone tentatively to my ear with a whispered, “Hello?”

No response.

I swallowed thickly, trying to get rid of the lump forming in my throat before asking again, a little louder, “Hello?”

Nothing.

Mickey stirred next to me, rolling onto his side and groggily opening his eyes, lifting his hand to rub them gently.

I sat up, hand shaking as I repeatedly whispered “Hello?” into the speaker.

“Whose that?” Mickey's voice was thick with sleep and the minute the words were out of his mouth, the line went dead.

Read Chapter Eleven HERE

[mrsaltieri-real]

His Perfect Victim (Mickey Altieri X OC!Dahlia Levine)

Chapter 3: Rejection

Word count: 3.5k

Warnings: language, alcohol consumption, talks of Dahlia dying, mentions of stabbing and scarring, Mickey being an asshole, smut, p in v, jealousy, angst

Chapter 3! It isn’t as long as I initially planned but it just ended at the perfect spot I didn’t feel the need to drag it out any further. God I love this series so much it’s ridiculous but I’m really going to be putting poor Dahlia through it. Thank you to @bisexual-horror-fan for editing and beta reading this once again! My fucking star!

God, what the fuck was wrong with me?

I stood a foot or so away from the door, many people chatting and drinking away cheerfully around me in a haze of noise and blurred figures as I remained hesitating. How long have I been here? A minute? Five minutes? An hour? Time seemed to have no meaning as I listened to the bouncing music coming from inside Sid and Hallie’s dorm room, the loud laughter and shouting.

It was all uncomfortably familiar.

Suddenly the door swung open and out stumbled Hallie, evidently already plastered, who grinned eagerly when she saw me.

Hands out she exclaims with a smile, “Dahlia! You came! Randy owes me twenty bucks.”

I was immediately engulfed in a warm embrace by Hallie the minute I walked into her dorm room, unable to stop my body from automatically tensing defensively. I consciously knew she wouldn’t hurt me, but my subconscious was immediately put in self preservation mode. Hallie seemed too drunk to notice as she pulled back, an even bigger smile on her face.

“Come in, have a drink!” Hallie finally released me after what felt like an eternity and I smiled half-heartedly at her. I definitely needed a drink if I was going to get through tonight.

I hadn’t been to a party since Stu’s in Woodsbro the night everything changed. In that moment glancing at all the unfamiliar faces I felt painfully aware of that fact, half expecting some jackass in a Ghostface costume to leap out at me no matter how ridiculous that may sound.

Hallie had wandered off to greet more guests, leaving me alone to make a beeline toward the large table full of drinks, eyes scanning the array of booze for whichever would get me drunk the fastest.

“Look who actually turned up.”

I had to fight the urge to roll my eyes. I hadn’t even been here two minutes and he’d already found me. I refused to turn and look at him, lifting a red solo cup from the stack and tapping the tops of the bottles for something that sounded at least appetising.

“May I?” His voice floods my ears and I suppress the urge to sigh. This time I did look up at him with a slightly raised brow. “You the connoisseur of cheap booze?”

Mickey laughed a little, shaking his head at me before replying, “I just have an idea of what people like. See,” My eyes followed his finger that now pointed over to Randy, who was sitting chatting to a group of people with his drink gripped in one hand as he waved his other hand around in manic gestures clearly in a deep discussion, “I made Randy a Gimlet.”

“What the fucks a Gimlet?” I muttered, toying with the cup in my hands.

Mickey laughed again, dropping his hand and looking back at me before explaining, “Simple syrup, lime juice and gin shaken over ice. He can’t handle his booze but likes to make it look like he can so it’s pretty perfect for him. Sidney-“ His eyes flickered over to where Sid was standing in the corner with Derek, laughing at something he said, “- Whiskey sour, of course. She’s complex.” I nodded my head, somehow that made perfect sense for her.

“Okay, what about Hallie?” I asked, squinting my eyes to try and make out what she had in her hand as she stood chatting to a few girls. I loosely registered the smell of rum and lime on her breath before her unwelcome embrace.

He made a move of his hand towards her direction as he said, “Hal? I made her an AMF.”

Eyebrows pinched together as I questioned him curiously, “AMF?”

“Adios Motherfucker.” He smiled slightly as he leaned closer.

I couldn’t help but smile back. That was somehow absolutely perfect for her even without context.

“And Derek?” I asked, nodding over in his direction.

“Are you kidding? Beer. He’s a frat bro, you think he’s gonna let me make him a fucking cocktail?” Mickey rolled his eyes, lifting his drink to his lips. It was hard to look away as he took a sip, his tongue darting out and licking the leftover liquid from his lips. I couldn’t help but ask, “And you? What have you got?”

He offered his drink to me and I hesitated for a moment. A soft laugh before he said flatly, “I haven’t got the fucking herp, Dahl.”

I felt my cheeks heat up at his nickname, quickly taking his drink so I could hide my face in it only to be taken by surprise at the overwhelming but delicious taste and aroma of mint, “A Mojito?”

“You look surprised. What, a man can’t enjoy a cocktail?” His hand rose to his chest in mock offence and I couldn’t help but smile again, handing him his cup back.

“You think you can make me one then?” I asked curiously before pressing on further, “You hardly know me.”

He sounded confident as he asserted, “I’m intuitive, I’m sure I can work out what you like even with our limited interaction. Unless of course you want me to get to know you better first?”

Was he flirting with me?

I looked at him blankly for a second before diverting my eyes down. He didn’t miss a beat, immediately changing the subject back to the drink, “You know what a Paloma is?” As he spoke, he took the cup from my hands, his warm fingers touching mine for just a second making my hand jolt back, an action he seemingly chose to ignore, “Tequila, lime juice, grapefruit soda,” With every ingredient he listened he free poured them into the cup until the drink was prepared, handing it to me with a flourish, “Can't exactly salt the rim but here.”

I took the drink from his hand, sniffing it suspiciously before taking a small sip, only to be surprised at how delicious it was.

“Wow.” I mumbled, taking a larger sip.

“Easy,” He chuckled, moving to make himself another drink, “I’m already gonna have to end up carrying Randy to bed. I don't want to have to carry you too.”

I paused for a second before forcing myself to look up at him and meet his eyes, asking with sudden bold curiosity, “What did you mean earlier?”

He looked genuinely surprised at my question, his hands pausing over the bottles as he glanced at me before asking, “What?“

I explained, “Earlier today, you said I’m not going to be able to stay away from you. What did you mean?”

He was quiet for a moment, returning to assemble his drink before walking to the free couch next to the table, raising his hand to the side for me to sit beside him to which I did so.

“I didn’t mean anything by it, just that we’re in the same social circle. I admit to being an ass when we first met, so I do apologise for that. It was just… interesting to meet you.”

I didn’t miss the emphasis he put on the word “Interesting.” It made me pause, eyeing him suspiciously. He wasn’t looking at me, his eyes set into the corner of the room as though I wasn’t even there. “What do you mean interesting?”

He blinked, drink rising up to his lips again as I waited impatiently for his reply only to wish I never asked, “Not everyday I meet someone like you.” He responded simply with a subtle curve of his lips.

“And what is that supposed to mean?”

Mickey leaned back on the couch, hand resting on his knee as he turned his head to look at me, eyes doing that stupid once over on me that I was growing to hate. Then he said it. “Someone who's supposed to be dead.”

My mouth fell open with a plop at how candidly he said it, staring at him in disbelief. Just when I thought he could be sweet.

“I’m sorry, supposed to be dead? The fact I fucking died is interesting to you?“ I snapped, the alcohol making me bolder than I usually would be.

Or was it the alcohol? Or was it yet again Mickey somehow awakening the parts of me I thought would never see the light of day again? The anger bubbling in my stomach was distantly familiar and honestly, it felt really fucking good.

Mickey groaned, head falling back against the back of the couch. “You know I didn’t mean it like that. Fucking hell you’re so sensitive Dahl. Bit of a lightweight, no?”

“Dahlia.” I wanted to shout at him, not appreciating the new nickname he seemed to have branded me with.

“Jesus, fine. Dahlia.” He said my name dripping with sarcasm before he quickly finished his drink, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand before continuing, “You’ve gotta stop being so damn oversensitive about shit. Your little broken bird act is kind of getting old to be honest.”

“Oh God, Mickey! I’m so sorry that I’m not living up to your fucking expectations. What do you want from me? Your fascination with the fact I died is really fucking creepy.” I couldn’t help but spit the words out at him. I was only slightly aware that people were beginning to look at us but for once, I didn’t care. I knew he was just trying to get a rise out of me and fuck, it was working.

“Oh, come on.” He laughed, a real laugh, raising his palms up, “You walk around campus like a ghost, you hardly speak to anybody except Sid and Randy, why?”

What was the use in trying to argue with this guy? I sighed, slouching back on the couch and closing my eyes, anger lessening, something more akin to sadness overtakes while I answered him, “They’re the only ones who understand.” I said quietly.

I felt him move to sit back next to me, feeling his eyes on my face although I refused to open them. He stayed quiet for once, waiting for me to continue.

“I don’t like you but I’ll be honest with you-“ I heard him let out a stifled laugh before I continued, “- I’m assuming you know Billy Loomis was Sidney’s boyfriend. Well, it’s lesser known who his accomplice was to me. We don’t share a last name and hell, we look absolutely nothing alike, but Stu Macher was my cousin. I loved him like a brother so when he just stood by and watched that stupid asshole drive a knife into my stomach-“ My fingers automatically touched the healed over wound over the material of my shirt and I winced, not in pain but at the memory before I continued, “- And I died, I’m pretty sure the part where I can… Feel went with me.”

Mickey was silent as he intently listened to me speak before I felt his hand clasp over mine that was still tracing my scar through my shirt, making my eyes snap open and look at him as I asked him in an undeniably self conscious tone, “What?”

“Nothing, I just think that’s the most I’ve heard you talk since I’ve known you.”

His face was close to mine, slightly tilted back as his head rested on the cushions behind him and mine did the same.

Now this feeling was new.

I saw his eyes drop to my lips for a brief moment before looking back into mine. Did I want this? Did I want him?

My mind started to race and my heart began to thud unsteadily in my chest as I watched his tongue swipe his bottom lip as he leaned forward. I could feel the pulse in my ears as I froze in place, unable to make my body move.

Fight or flight, fight or flight?

In a second, I made a decision.

I shot to my feet, dropping my empty cup to the floor and stumbling back a little, my eyes wide and his shown surprise. For the first time I saw a flash of an emotion that wasn’t sarcastic or pissed but I couldn’t quite pinpoint exactly what it was.

“Dahlia?” He asked, looking slightly concerned.

“You can’t just do that!” I hissed, hands shaking a little as my eyes flickered around my surroundings. Thank God, nobody was looking.

He leaned forward, his posture significantly less relaxed as he questioned, “Jesus, do what?”

You rushed out, “Lean forward and try to… Kiss me like that!”

Mickey looked at me blankly for a moment before his head fell back and he let out a loud, obnoxious laugh before managing to get out, “Are you fucking kidding me? You thought I was trying to kiss you? We were just having a conversation, Dahlia. How self involved are you?”

Of course, I know now Mickey isn’t used to not getting what he wants. He had grown accustomed to girls tripping over themselves to fuck him and the fact I didn’t, the fact I went out of my way to get away from him? He hates it. I could tell in that moment with the way he laughed but his eyes were blazing that he had an edge to him. I suppose that should’ve been one of many red flags.

Instead I scoffed at him, grabbing a random bottle of booze from the table before stalking off to go drink in peace.

I settled down on a chair in what I guess was supposed to be the communal living room, crossing my legs and eagerly knocking back the rum in my hand straight from the bottle.

“Jesus, Dahlia.”

I glanced up and saw a tipsy Randy flop down beside me, his drink spilling over the side of his cup as he did so but he didn’t seem to notice, eyes on me as he spoke, “Going hard, huh? What’s up?”

“Mickey.” I muttered simply.

“Ah.” Randy was quiet for a moment, looking at me thoughtfully.

Randy and I had what you would call and sandbox friendship. We met in kindergarten when he’d attempted to snatch a toy from my hand and I’d smacked him over the head with it in retaliation. I can’t really remember what led to it, but after that we became inseparable. We got “married” at recess with Sid and Tatum officiating but it was just childish fun and games. I of course loved him, but it was never romantic in any way.

During my time in the hospital, he visited every single day. During this time I wasn’t talking much so we just watched movies until visiting hours were up, he’d go home and then come back the next day to do it all over again. Never horror. He knew me well enough to know that after everything with Billy and Stu, for me at least real life was scary enough.

“Is he giving you a hard time?” Randy asked, rolling his head to look at me, he said in a more serious tone, “Ignore him, okay? Mickey can be an ass.”

“Oh, I know.” I muttered, bringing the bottle to my lips once more, “Such a fucking ass.”

Out of the corner of my eye I saw Randy’s eyebrows shoot up and I sighed, “What?”

He shrugged, “Nothing. It’s just I haven’t heard you speak with venom like that in… Fuck, forever. It’s disconcerting.”

I looked at Randy, a deep frown on my face as I asked, “What do you mean?”

“No, I don’t mean anything by it. I don’t know what Mickey did or said but I’ve gotta say, he really brings the fire out in you, you know?”

I dropped my eyes to the bottle in my hand, fingernails tapping lightly on the glass. I knew Randy was right. Whenever I was around Mickey he just revived me somehow. As annoying and infuriatingly difficult he was, there was no way I could dispute that fact.

In the space of a month I’d felt more irritation and fire than I’d probably felt in my entire life. Honestly, I never thought I’d feel anything again.

What was it about him?

I lifted my head as I heard footsteps approaching Randy and I and looked up to see Sidney hastily walking over to us.

“Dahlia, Mickey’s looking for you. He’s in my room, said he wanted to find you to apologise or something?” She shrugged a little, hand waving down the hall and toward hers and Hallie’s shared room.

I frowned, my grip on the bottle tightening which Randy seemed to notice as he asked, “You want me to come with?”

“No, no.” I mumbled, starting to stand up before the room spun a little. I blinked, feeling myself fall back on the couch and Randy quickly gripped my arm with a small, nervous laugh. “How much of that have you had?”

I shook my head as I mumbled, “I’m fine.”

Sidney looked at me, soulful brown eyes doubtful. “We all know you’re a lightweight Dahlia. Maybe Randy and I should take you back to your dorm.”

“I’m okay, honest.” In truth, I really just wanted to hear Mickey apologise to me. Who knew he was capable? “What number is your dorm?”

Sidney told me her dorm room number and I felt both her and Randy watching me cautiously as I slowly walked away, trying my best to walk in a straight line. Fuck, I really was a lightweight. Was it down to Mickey’s strong ass cocktail or the straight rum? Probably the straight rum.

My hands both rested on the walls as I walked down the corridor, eyes blurring as I blinked unseeingly at the number of the doors until I found Sidney’s.

I heard muffled voices coming from the other side of the door and infringed a little, hand hesitating on the door knob. Even hammered, something felt off. I didn’t know Mickey that well, but I did know he wasn’t one to apologise.

Fuck it.

I turned the door handle and pushed the door open, eyes widening and mouth falling open and the sight before me.

A blonde girl was lying face down, ass up on what I assumed to be Sidney’s bed without a stitch of clothing on her. She was gasping and moaning into the mattress beneath her, and who else would be behind her? Mickey.

He had her arms behind her back, one of his hands circling her wrists and the other gripping her hip, pulling her back as he thrusted into her. His head was back, groaning softly before it fell forward and he released her wrists, moving his hand up her back until it found her hair and twisting it around his fist, yanking it back so she was sat up, her head leaning on his shoulder as she gasped out, “Oh my fucking God Mickey, please don’t stop!“ with her eyes screwed up tight and her chest heaving. I saw her face and for some reason it seemed to bother me to see how attractive the girl was.

His eyes opened and met mine from over her shoulder, quickly roaming over my stunned form before he smiled.

He fucking smiled, a sick and almost depraved smile directly at me, a slight upturn of his shoulders before he mouthed, “Fuck you” to me as he pushed the writhing, moaning girl down on her stomach. His fingers kneeding the soft flesh of her ass as he continued fucking her, his eyes now never leaving mine as I remained frozen at the door.

Walk away, walk away! Why the fuck are you stood watching this shit?

The voice in my head was screaming at me until she was finally loud enough for me to listen. I turned on my heel, quickly slamming the door behind me.

What the fuck?

Why would he tell Sid he wanted to apologise to me if he was busy fucking some slut in her bed? Why would he want me to see that?

I was clearly drunk because I could feel tears burning my eyes, and I wasn’t sure if they were out of anger or something else. I shook out my head, hands coming up to tap on my cheeks lightly in an attempt to snap myself out of it as I heard Mickey let out another loud laugh and the girl let out an even louder cry of what I could only assume to be pleasure.

Guess this is how he acts when he gets rejected.

What a fucking asshole.

Chapter Four HERE

[mrsaltieri-real]

His Perfect Victim (Mickey Altieri x OC!Dahlia Levine)

Chapter Six: Textbook Victim (Mickey’s POV)

Words: 2.5k

Warnings: language, mentions of sex, stalking, stealing, mentions of murder, mentions of killing Dahlia, kissing, feelings, Mickey being a sick fuck, insight to Mickey’s obsession with Dahlia, mention of masturbation, etc

I know I said I was waiting till I finished chapter seven, but some of you are just so excited it makes me so happy to know that you guys love this series so far! Like, it means the world you don’t even know. So much love to everyone whose taking the time to read this series because man, it is so inspiring. Once again, big huge massive thank you to @bisexual-horror-fan for beta reading and editing this chapter dude! I really couldn’t do this without you. Love you a fuckton! <3

Also @lizey-thornberry you wanted to be tagged! Appreciate the love dude!

Let’s go!

Everything about her was utterly magnetic, but she had absolutely no idea of the impact she was having on me.

I knew why I was here, what my job was. If she knew what I was doing, she wouldn’t be happy with me, but I just can’t help myself. That’s the understatement of the fucking century, she’d hate me. Could I blame her if she did? No.

From the moment I saw her, I was enticed. I remembered before coming to Windsor College, seeing news articles about her and of course with what we had planned, I had to do my research.

It didn’t take me long to find out that Dahlia Levine was Stu Macher's cousin, though it took scouring through a lot of different websites and talking to some people obsessed with the Woodsboro murders to find out, as it hadn’t been in Gale Weathers shitty book. According to one guy, Dahlia’s family was insanely wealthy and paid off a fuck ton of people to protect their name and their image, but not their daughter. I’d seen a picture of her for the first time in one of the many chat rooms and God, she was beautiful. She was standing next to Stu in a family picture that had been almost entirely scrubbed from the internet, mid-laugh from something he himself had clearly said because the woman I assumed to be her mother did not look impressed by either of them.

She was fucking perfect. Too fucking perfect. I like to think I have an impressive vocabulary, but she makes it hard to find the words to describe her, nothing feels quite good enough.

I stared at that photo maybe a little too often, fisted my cock when looking into her big brown eyes and just like that, I needed her. I needed to kill her, slide the cold steel of my knife into her over and over again whilst looking into those damn brown eyes and watch the light fade out of them. I needed this more than I needed air to breathe, more than I wanted to kill Sidney fucking Prescott and her stupid group of fucking friends.

Then I saw her in person a few months before we were officially introduced.

I thought that this girl couldn’t be the same girl in the picture I’d been staring at all these months. Her eyes weren’t right, already lifeless, which honestly put me off. She never smiled, she never laughed. She hardly registered it when anyone acknowledged her. You know that phrase, lights on, nobody home? It’s like lights were off, and the house was abandoned, haunted by some barely there ghost.

I began subtly following her around campus, video camera in hand, deciding to track her. Although her days were basic, consisting of classes and visits to the library as well as the laundry room in her building, I felt myself becoming more and more connected to her over the weeks. I’d watch everything she did. I’d watch everything Randy and Sidney did too, but that was different, I didn’t have the same interest which I knew my predecessor's mother would not be at all happy about, but the fuck did I care? The killings wouldn’t be starting for a year and a half, and I needed a toy to entertain myself with.

But then? Oh, my fucking God, then I found out that Dahlia had died.

I’d been walking past the library where Sidney and Randy perched on the steps, talking to each other in clear yet hushed voices about the events of Woodsboro, which immediately caught my attention. I was good at hiding in plain sight, so I walked around the steps of the library and leaned against the wall, pulling a book out of my bag, so I could listen to Randy talk.

“She keeps saying she’s fine, Sid,” Randy had said, worried concern was evident in his tone, “But you’ve seen her, she’s not the same as before.”

“Well, are you surprised?” Sidney had whispered back, eyes locked on him as she said, “Stu did nothing, and she died-“ my brow suddenly creased, and my eyes narrowed as I listened on, “- after Billy stabbed her. Would you be okay if your cousin just stood by and let that happen?”

That just piqued my interest in her further.

Now, I can admit that I get a little… Obsessive, and at times it doesn’t come out in the best of ways. I’m usually able to channel that obsession, steal things that belong to the object of my extraordinary interests, but with her? It was never enough. Breaking into her dorm and stealing her notebooks? Her clothes? Her panties? Getting myself off to the thought of killing her with them clenched between my fingers? It was never enough. I had to know her, I needed to know her. I couldn’t stop thinking about how perfect she’d be, my perfect victim; the relative of one of the Ghostfaces who had not only died, but came back to life. What could be more ideal than that as a victim?

So I infiltrated myself into Sidney’s friend group, earlier than Nancy and I had initially discussed. Of course, she wasn’t happy, she thought I’d made myself “too available too fast” and they’d grow suspicious, but I don’t know if they were oblivious, in denial or just downright stupid because they pretty much welcomed me with open arms after I grew closer to Derek. I started talking to Randy in film class, playfully arguing about movies and cinema and harmlessly flirted with Hallie when I’d bump into her around campus, but she wasn’t who I wanted.

It was just like a game, like I was in my very own movie. It was fun, but I still wanted her, and I couldn’t help but wonder why she didn’t hang around with Sidney and Randy that often at the very least.

I’d seen her talking to Sidney whilst I was talking to some girl from my statistics class and I quickly brushed her off when their conversation ended, making her sigh irritably at my sudden lack of interest in her and flounce off in a huff, but I paid her no mind. Sid and I had plans for coffee, so when she waved to me, walking across the green I smiled at her as warmly as I could muster, reluctantly forcing my gaze away from Dahlia.

“Who was that?” I’d asked casually, gesturing loosely over to Dahlia’s retreating form headed for the library.

Sid glanced over her shoulder and I saw her smile sadly in her direction as she sighed, “That’s Dahlia.”

“That’s Dahlia?” I’d asked in careful surprise, ensuring my tone wasn’t overly fake. It was the first time I’d said her name out loud, and I couldn’t help but enjoy the way it rolled off my tongue, “You and Randy talk about her, but I wasn’t sure she was even real.”

“She’s…” Sid hesitated for a moment as she turned back to look at me before continuing, “Shy. She’s never quite moved on from what happened in Woodsboro, you know? It’s harder for her.”

“How come?” I asked, but of course I already knew.

Sidney pursed her lips, eyebrows furrowing a little as she briefly shook her head, clearly trying to change the subject, “It doesn’t matter. Are we getting coffee or what? Derek said he’s meeting us there.”

I ignored her attempt to divert the conversation, trying to keep my voice even as I continued, “You know, if she’s shy, maybe you should introduce her to us.” I suggested, walking alongside Sidney, whose face turned a little thoughtful. I grasped at straws and carried on, “Maybe her having friends that aren’t just you and Randy can help her move on, get her back to however she was before.”

Sidney looked up at me, head tilted a little to the side and her eyes narrowing. “What do you mean?”

“You said she never quite moved on from Woodsbro. And although I only saw her from a distance, she looked… Sad.” I replied smoothly. Damn, Sidney was a suspicious person. Of course, she had every right to be, but I knew I had to start being more careful. I couldn’t let the fact that I wanted Dahlia get in the way of my true purpose, from achieving what I was destined to achieve.

Shortly after, Sidney introduced Dahlia to everybody. And now, a few months later, here we were, Dahlia’s soft lips pressing against mine as she pulled herself up on her toes using my shoulders, and taking me completely by surprise.

I didn’t know what to do, I just froze. This wasn’t what I expected, not at all. I didn’t have feelings for people. I fucked them, sure, falling into bed or being on a couch, making them believe I was into them, sliding deep inside a soaked hole and taking advantage of vulnerability, being inside a person but not letting them back in was natural to me. I flirted, of course, led people on, played the game and enjoyed pulling people like puppets on strings, but her? Being here, feeling her warm soft body pressed against mine, tasting her, smelling her coconut scented shampoo, it was different. I felt my heart thud in my chest, felt the reserve of my confidence begin to fade.

Fuck, she had me already. It took a moment, but I kissed her back slowly, my hands pulling her closer to me by her hips. I felt her breath hitch slightly, and I couldn’t help but smile against her, my fingers moving to trail up the curve of her spine and leaving goosebumps in its wake.

She wasn’t a bad kisser, she just seemed so sweetly inexperienced, it was fucking intoxicating. God, I wanted to fucking teach her. I wanted to show her just how good her life could be until the day I inevitably ended it.

Something seemed to snap and quickly change inside of her as she suddenly stiffened before gasping into my mouth and gently pushing me away from her, pulling back with her eyes wide in horror and embarrassment as she looked at me and took a few steps back. Her hands falling to her side as she looked at my very evidently dumbstruck face, “I’m sorry! Oh my God, that was so stupid, I am so sorry!”

She began rambling, fast and almost incoherent as a stream of apologies left her, almost tumbling over each other in their haste to be expressed. I shook my head, unable to stop the amused smile taking over my face as I looked over her.

Her cheeks were stained a gorgeous pink, and I couldn’t stop thinking about how I could twist it, pink bleeds instead to the red inside of her, the scarlet that pumps through her veins, pushing, making her draw breath and live, would be even more beautiful, staining the steel of my knife. Fuck, she’d be absolutely ideal.

“Dahlia,” I spoke her name first, a pause followed before I asked quietly, making her eyes flicker up to mine before they fell on the ground again, “Was that your first kiss?”

She let out a small scoff, but her cheeks flushed even deeper and said nothing. Could this be any more perfect? The plan started churning endlessly in my mind. The potential future of us stretches out before me as if on endless spools of film reel, rolling in every which way, so many scenes, how many could be acted out? How many would make the cutting room floor?

I never pretended to be a good person, I’m not. Truthfully, I like Dahlia. I like how I was the only person able to bring back the fire she used to have inside of her, not even that fucking idiot Randy could do that, and they had been friends for years. Though, I really think he wants more, but that’s too fucking bad for him. I honestly don’t think I’ve ever wanted anyone as much as I want her. Looking at her, just so beautiful, so fucking vulnerable and pure, is when I knew.

It wasn’t like with Billy and Sidney, I didn’t hate Dahlia, I didn’t want revenge for anything. I like her, perhaps too much. I don’t know how to distinguish between liking or loving someone and obsession, to me the two were like two sides of the same coin. But there is one similar thing I did share with Billy.

I was going to have her, strip her from all the remaining innocence she had. Touch her, taste her, heal her, fuck the life right back into her before I thought it was time to take all of it away. I want to tear her apart. I want to piece her back together, fix her just to ruin her, be the one to end her, finish the job Billy fucking Loomis couldn’t.

The one thing, though, is she has to die. I don’t want to kill her for any reason but to fulfill her destiny and make people see her for who she is.

The absolute perfect, textbook victim. My fucking victim. She’d be immortalized, is that not what everyone wants?

“It’s okay, Dahl.” I laughed, taking a step toward her. She didn’t move, and her eyes refused to meet mine as I continued, “You want to pretend like it didn’t happen, that’s fine, we can carry on just being friends.”

This made her eyes look up into mine, so deep, warm brown like when the sun filters through leaves on trees in autumn before they fall and innocent it made my head spin, “Is that what you want? Do you really think we can be just friends?” She asked in a small voice. She looked so… innocent. If I’m being honest, she was utterly endearing. Her big brown eyes looked like pools of honey in the remaining light, deep and enticing.

The sun was beginning to set now, how long had we been out here? There wasn’t really anyone on the green anymore, just a few stragglers that may as well have been pieces of trash for all the attention I was giving them.

How should I play this?

“Honestly, I don’t think you and I are ever going to be “just friends”, Dahl.” I said truthfully, fingers raising in air quotations.

I heard her swallow, and she lightly shrugged her shoulders with a sigh, “I don’t know you, Mickey. Not really. Can’t we just forget it happened?”

Fuck, I loved the way she said my name. It sounded like music to my ears, and I couldn’t help but imagine her moaning and panting it into my ear. This girl was driving me fucking insane, yet she had absolutely no idea.

“No.” I responded simply, unable to stop looking at her lips as I took another step forward, hands moving to rest on her hips. Again, she didn’t move, but now her eyes were on me, like she was unable to look away from me too.

Chapter Seven HERE

[mrsaltieri-real]

His Perfect Victim (Mickey Altieri x OC!Dahlia Levine)

Chapter Two: Stay Away

Word count: Almost 2.5k

Warnings: again not really any warnings, language, Mickey being a bit of an ass,a little angst, Dahlia being in denial about wanting him, etc

Chapter two already? I know. I’m going in on this fic. Updates won’t be this quick, I’m just really into it right now and can’t seem to stop myself. This chapters a little longer than the first but Chapter three will be a lot heavier and contain some smut, but trust me, it’s not what you think at all.

Edited and Beta Read by @bisexual-horror-fan who is already such a lover of Dahlia and that warms my cold dead heart so fucking much. Lotta love for you dude <3 and thank you!

Anyways on that note, let’s go!

Here’s my girl! I love her

It had been a few weeks since Sidney had introduced me to the friend group and although I still didn’t feel myself, or rather myself before the mess back in Woodsboro, things were slowly starting to get better. Instead of being zombified it was more like something or someone was gradually breathing life back into me again. It was an odd feeling, as if my lungs were permanently in a state of exhalation and now, after seemingly ages, I could inhale, even if not fully yet, it is a relief, a welcome one. I try to focus on the good, even if it is a fight and a real struggle some days.

It was easy to bond with Hallie, she was sweet and charming, she instantly made me feel completely at ease around her. Luckily for me she was chatty so I rarely had to add much of anything to the conversation other than just nodding my head as she talked away and gasping in the appropriate places.

Derek was kind enough, always smiling politely and asking how I was doing. Over the course of the few weeks I’d known him, I noticed he’d not so subtly ask me questions about Sid. Nothing personal, just random curious little inquiries like what her favourite colour, periwinkle, or flowers, snapdragons, were information I had from knowing her for so long, the questions innocuous enough I answered them easily. Of course, it was fairly obvious he liked her and I could tell she liked him too, but just wasn’t sure how to go about it after everything with Billy.

“I just don’t know if it’s the right time, you know?” She’d told me in the quad, anxiously biting at her nails, brows creased with worry. “It’s too soon, right?”

“If it’s right then it’s right.” I’d said with a small shrug, “But if it’s any consolation, he likes you too.”

I’d noticed the small smile flash across her face before she hastily changed the subject. She stops chewing her nail and shakes her hand out before tucking some hair behind her ear, switching the focus back to me, “So what about you?”

“What about me?”

Her expression turns softer but is still tinged with concern. “Have you, you know, met anyone?”

It was hard to hold back the laugh building in my chest as I looked at her with raised eyebrows. “God, no.” I said, my eyes catching him in the same second.

I’d never met anyone quite as cunty or insufferable as Mickey. He was an asshole, cocky and almost arrogant with the way he walked around like he owned the place. Although, I had to admit it did make him more endearing. He shared the same passion for movies and the same film class as Randy, yet in a lot of ways they were the complete dead opposite of one another.

To put it nicely, Mickey was a bit of a whore. He was attractive, he knew he was and he seemed to enjoy using that to his advantage, playing into it heavily.

Sidney noticed my brief distraction and turned her head to see what I was looking at, a small smile on her face as she turned back to me. “Really? Not even Mickey?”

“Especially not Mickey.” I insisted with an eyeroll. “He’s the exact opposite of what I need right now.”

I hoped I wasn’t protesting too much. My communication with Mickey wasn’t much. As a matter of fact I decided it was best to stay as far away from him as possible. There was just something about the way he looked at me, whilst at first magnetic it quickly made me tense. I’d grow paranoid, thinking those damn brown eyes were on me no matter where I went or who I was with.

It was fucking annoying.

Over the course of the few weeks I’d known him I decided I didn’t like him at all. Of course this would prove to be completely untrue, but my initial reaction to him?

Hate. It had to be hate, what else could it be?

I hated his attitude, the way he automatically expected me to fall at his feet. I hated the subtle flirting that nobody but me seemed to notice. The way he’d ‘accidentally’ brush my hand if I had to sit next to him or his fingers would grip my hips when he just had to move past me in a space where it was completely unnecessary to do so.

But most of all? I hated how whenever he was around me he seemed to awaken something inside of me I thought was long dead and buried.

I internally kicked myself when Mickey’s eye caught mine and a cocky smile overtook his face and he began to walk over, that stupid camera still clutched between his fingers.

“Sid, Derek is looking for you.” He said once close enough, loosely gesturing to where Derek was standing behind him by a few feet, looking a little anxious. Mickey’s eyes stayed locked on me the entire time however, something that Sidney either refused to or just outright didn’t notice.

“Oh, God yeah we have plans. You gonna be-“ I cut Sidney off with a warm smile and quick nod and she grabbed her backpack and she got up and walked with a small bounce in her step toward Derek.

Good for her.

I bent down to pick up my bag, trying desperately to get away from Mickey as quickly as possible as he spoke, “You don’t like me much, do you?”

That surprised me. I paused for a second before slowly straightening up and looking at him incredulously. He didn’t say it in an insecure or disappointed kind of way, he said it almost as if he found the very concept of me disliking him hilarious. “Why do you care?” I retorted, slinging my bag over my shoulder.

“I don’t,” He replied with a small upturn of his shoulders. “I am however curious as to why.”

I couldn’t stop the laugh from bursting through my lips as I crossed my arms tight across my chest and looked up at him as he leaned easily against the wall. “You really don’t want to open up that can of worms.”

This made him chuckle a little, head tilting just slightly to the side as his eyes roamed over me the way they always seemed to when he was around me.

“Stop looking at me like that.” I snapped, arms dropping to my sides.

“I will when you stop enjoying it so much.” He shot back, that stupid fucking amused edge to his voice.

“You are aware not everyone wants you, right?” I muttered as I turned to walk away from him.

“And what makes you think I want you?”

I decided not to give him a reaction, simply walking away without acknowledging he even said anything.

He called after me, just my name, loud and clear, “Dahlia.”

God, why did he have to sound so good saying my name?

He caught up with me easily in just a few strides and I flinched away from him when I felt his warm hand lightly gripped my upper arm, an action that I noticed made him drop his hand in the same second. “Can I just ask you something?”

I eyed him a little, pausing as my arms wrapped around myself again. “Depends.” I said sceptically. God knows what he wanted to ask me. The first interaction I knew of consisted of him bluntly asking if- “I was the chick that died”, so I had very little faith that anything he could possibly be thinking of asking would be in any way appropriate.

“What’s with you?

I blinked at him dumbfounded. That’s not what I expected.

“I…Uhm. What?” I stumbled over my words and he laughed at my surprised face.

He was playing with the camera in his hand, flipping the side open and closed, “I asked what’s with you? Call me observant, not to be rude I just noticed that you’re kinda…”

“Dead inside?” I finished for him, face settling back into the emotionless mask I’d grown comfortable wearing these last months. “Yeah, I know.”

He looked mildly surprised at my words, shaking his head from side to side. “No I-“

“I don’t care what you were going to say,” I couldn’t help but snap at him and cut him off, getting more and more pissed off with how bold he was. He was totally infuriating. Who the hell was he? I hardly knew him and he had the audacity to waltz over here and be condescending and arrogant, “Can you please just stay the fuck away from me?”

About to turn from him again he piped up in response with, “Yeah sure. See you tonight.”

I stopped for what felt like the millionth time, “I’m sorry, what?”

“Party tonight that Hallie’s throwing in hers and Sidney’s dorm.” He responded simply, not seeming at all phased by me telling him to stay away from me. I know now that he was in fact blatantly ignoring that wish, “What, didn’t she tell you?”

“Fuck.” I muttered under my breath as I finally turned away, wanting to get away, leave this interaction sooner rather than later, before speaking clearly, “Yeah, she told me. I’m not going.”

Still turned away, unmoving, as if his constant questioning had me glued to the spot, he asked, “Why?”

“Because if you’re not going to stay away from me I’m going to do my damndest to stay the hell away from you.” I turned my head to the side slightly as I responded to him, venom still apparent in my tone. My eye caught his face and I wanted to curse.

There it was again. That stupid fucking smile that made me want to peel off my own skin as I finally willed myself to get away and stormed off. It was surprisingly difficult to look away from him. God, why did he have to be so good looking? Even looking at him then, full of hate, a small part of me knew I wanted him in any way I could have him but I pushed those feelings deep down inside, never wanting them to see the light of day.

It was strange, feeling this way. I hadn’t felt anything in so long. Something about Mickey just seemed to revive me, forcing me bit by bit to come back to life. I hated that he had this effect on me and how easy it was for him to make me feel like this when I hardly even knew him. The anger it made me feel is completely indescribable.

“Dahlia,” he spoke my name again, the way it sounded coming from him being just as delicious as before. He caught up to me quickly, hand darting down and circling my wrist, easily twisting me around to look at him. His hypnotic brown eyes looked into mine as he stood over me, tall and almost intimidating.

I couldn’t pull away. Why the hell couldn't I pull away? It was like my feet were one with the concrete, having no choice but to stand there and look up at him completely dumbfounded, which he of course clearly found hilarious by the way his lips curled up.

“You’re not gonna be able to stay away from me forever.” He said it gently, dropping my wrist and looking me over once more.

I let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding, watching him walk away whilst remaining frozen in place. I could hear the pulse drumming in my ears rapidly and I quickly shook my head, trying to snap the hell out of it.

What was wrong with me? I didn’t know him, didn’t know anything about him. Why did part of me want to change that? It is a truly terrible idea, an awful thing to want to indulge in, I can’t do it.

I ran a hand through my hair, sighing as I finally managed to move again, twisting round to see Randy stood a few feet away, looking utterly confused. Great. How much of that did he see?

“Hey.” I approached him, smiling as warmly as I could muster. Now Mickey wasn’t in sight, all the feeling had gone along with him. I thought about that for a split second as I stopped in front of Randy, the blue eyed boy still looking baffled.

“Hey, you alright?“ His eyes flickered up toward the direction Mickey had left in and back to me, expression turning concerned, “What did he want?“

“Oh, it’s nothing.” I responded with a dismissive wave of my hand, “Are you going to Hallie’s party tonight?”

Randy didn’t look convinced but probably knew better than to press the question. I know he would with anyone else but him watching me deteriorate after Stu had quickly made him take an absurd amount of notice into my feelings.

“Yeah, I was gonna make an appearance. You better be going too, Hallie will kick your ass if you don’t.”

I knew he was only half joking.

I was thoughtful for a second, mind automatically flipping back to Mickey’s words, “You’re not gonna be able to stay away from me forever.”

The fuck was that supposed to mean? Once again, it was like he knew something I didn’t and it was driving me insane. How could someone I’d hardly spoken to and don’t know have this much of an impact on me? Everything about him screamed “stay the fuck away” like alarm bells in my head but even then, I knew he was right.

“Dahlia?” Randy’s hand waved in front of my face and I reached up, batting it away lightly which made him laugh lightly before asking again if I’d be going. Maybe I should be resigned to my current fate.

“Oh, yeah,” I said with a smile, a real smile for the first time in god knows how long, “I wouldn’t miss it.”

Chapter Three HERE