summary: You're inwardly celebrating a small (if bloody) victory when someone unexpected applauds you. However, his praise may also be your doom.
The ending implies two possible babes to choose from, so it can be considered a choose your own man ending (or don't choose, hoe with both).
warnings: generally this is a crackfic 😆; mention of killing and burying a dead body; promising dark threats;
word count: 1k
Author's Note: This is my birthday gift to @stargazingfangirl18 ❤️🎁 a part of Siri's Shameless Hoe Birthday Bash. A short crackfic with elements of potential dark romance lurking at the end. Also, I used this opportunity to make a little dream come true for me and @thezombieprostitute and make Siri laugh when she realizes what I've done 🤭
I used prompts: wrong place,wrong time / meet!oops + “I wouldn’t do that if I were you” + mob enforcer/mercenary babe
While you enjoyed the air of mystery and occasional artistic gothic vibe, you'd never imagined yourself as someone feeling immense joy at being at the cemetery.
Yet, here you are.
In the middle of the night, in the far end of the cemetery, grinning from ear to ear while standing over a fresh grave.
Your arms ache and some blisters are forming on your palms already, despite wearing gardening gloves, but you hold that shovel in your hands proudly.
You did that! You finally did it!
Well, Zee helped a lot with the main part, but then fled when it came to the burying part. Still, you are grateful that you and Zee managed to join forces to save your brainwashed friend from the clutches of the monster she claimed loves her.
And honestly? You thought killing someone like that prick would be much harder, considering his reputation and connections.
Perhaps, it would be if he saw any of you as a threat. If you were men, he’d get rid of you just for the audacity of being near to your friend, whom he treated like a personal possession. But as women, to a man like him you were flies - a little annoying, but unable to pose any danger.
You proved him wrong.
A part of you wishes you could bring him back to life, just to see his face upon the fact you and Zee got him. It'd be almost as satisfying as throwing dirt onto his corpse.
Andy Barber killed by two women.
You would love to put that on his gravestone, but unfortunately for him, he'll be left to rot with some poor soul freshly buried in that spot. It bothers you a little, since no one deserves to spend an eternity under that gaslighting, abusive dick, but it was easier to open a fresh grave. That way no one will even notice the earth was moved and in a few weeks a slab of stone will cover the spot.
You sigh, contented, as you finish piling the soil. Now all you need is to move the flower wreaths closer as it was right after the funeral, then get back home for a deserved shower and a good day of sleep.
Slow clapping freezes you in place, however.
There should be no clapping, no human sounds whatsoever, in the cemetery. Not at this time, when you were sure you’re here alone.
You turn around, scared of coming face to face with some monster straight from a horror story. Because what else should you expect in the middle of the night in this place? Another woman burying a piece of shit of a man?
Your monster has the form of a man. Clad all in black, aside from the shiny gold wristwatch that potentially costs more than your whole apartment. He even has black gloves on his hands.
Hands that are holding a gun.
He’s sitting on one of the gravestones; his long legs stretched out in front of him, ankles hooked one over the other.
“I considered offering to help you, Sunshine-” his lips curl into a smirk that tilts the left side of his mustache- “but you seemed to be actually enjoying the shoveling. Gotta admire a woman at work.”
“Who are you?” You narrow your eyes, glaring at him, and curl your hands tighter around the shovel’s handle. “What do you want?”
“Name’s Lloyd, cupcake. And what I wanted was the part you already did.” He chuckles, nodding toward the grave behind you.
Instantly, you know he means killing Barber.
A man like him wouldn’t need to hide that dead body in a fresh grave to cover the tracks. No, a man like him would kill Andy out in the open and walk out, possibly leaving a trail of bodies behind him if needed.
“My boss was done with Barber’s bullshit.” Lloyd says casually, as if he’s talking about some office work. “So he sent me to get rid of the problem. Imagine my surprise when I saw you and your friend do the job for me.”
“Oh, yeah,” he laughs and stands up, “I watched the whole thing. It was really entertaining. I gotta admit, Barber was even dumber than I thought for underestimating you. For a pair of determined amateurs, I’d say you did a really good job, Cupcake.”
Heart hammers in your chest, accelerating with every slow step he takes towards you. He keeps the gun low, at his thigh, but it doesn’t change the fact he has a weapon and could shoot you any second!
When you move the shovel in front of you, both hands gripping it tightly, Lloyd tuts at you.
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” Veiled in a soft coo, but it’s a threat nonetheless.
You squeak, eyes widening, as he lifts the hand holding the gun and taps one of your hands with the muzzle. You drop the shovel instantly.
It’s one thing to kill Andy Barber after working on a whole plan to do it, but facing an armed man - who possibly is some mob hired killer - is a completely other thing. Besides, while Andy annoyed you and scared you with how easily he turned your friend into a victim of abuse, Lloyd puts a different kind of fear in you.
“No need to shiver,” he says in a way that shows he actually loves the fact you tremble.
“You deserve a reward for taking out the garbage.” Lloyd lowers the gun, but lifts his other gloved hand to trace a finger along your cheek. “I’d happily spoil you for the entertainment you provided, Cupcake. But I think my boss might be interested in meeting you.”
His smirk spreads into a wolfish grin as his hand moves to cup your chin, which he grips a tad tighter and tilts your face up.
“Mhmm, yes, you’ll be a delicious addition to Rogers’ breakfast.”
You don’t like the wording he chooses, nor the dark glint in his eyes suggesting he might be more entertained watching whatever that scary boss does to you.
