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captainlunaxmen · 10 months ago
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Panic 2.0
Chapter 1
Dodge Mason x fem!reader x Ray Hall
This is a rewriting of my old series on @lunamadhatter99, I decided to rewrite it because the series wasn't completed, and I didn't like it that much anymore.
Let me know what you think and if you want to be tagged in the next chapters.❤️❤️❤️
Chapter summary: graduation day!
Chapter warnings: none.
Tag list.
@stuckinthesmalldoor @once-upon-an-imagine
@idontevenknow1359
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Relief is all I feel right now in the auditorium, waiting for Graduation to begin. I patiently sit with the other students waiting for my name yo be called, next to me my closest friends: Natalie, Heather and Bishop. I look behind me, a few rows behind I spot the new guy, Dodge Mason. I gently smile at him and he smiles back, we bonded a lot since he arrived last year, which is something that makes me proud, since he's not known for being the most open person here.
Graduation is the first step out of here, out of Carp, Texas, which all of us call the capital of Nothing.
The second step would be the local summer game: Panic. It's easy to explain Panic: you play and if you win, you're out of here. What's the catch? It's in the name, Panic, the challenges aren't exactly children friendly.
And, funny enough, the game has one simple rule: do not panic.
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"Is your aunt coming?" Heather asks me as we walk out of the building. Natalie and Bishop being congratulated by their families.
"Nah... I didn't even get a text, I don't think she will show up." I shrug, "what about your mother?"
Right before she could answer a sweet little voice calls Heather's name.
"They're here." She smiles, almost apologetically to which I respond with a reassuring smile.
"Guess I'll see you tonight." I chuckle.
"You don't have much of a choice." She laughs walking off.
I dare to take a look around for my aunt, but as expected, no one in sight.
"Congratulations, Y/n." I turn around seeing Natalie with his father walking to get their picture taken.
"Thank you, officer!" I wave at him and Natalie and start to walk off too.
I take just a few steps before another voice calls for me.
"Y/n!"
I turn around once again, watching Jessica, Dodge's mother, walking towards me with Dodge next to her.
"Hi, Jessica." I smile, warmly at her.
"Congratulations, sweetheart." She hugs me tightly once sheclose enough, Dodge sends me and apologetic yet amused smile.
"Thank you." I say pulling away, "so nice to be finally done." I laugh.
"I bet." She smiles brightly, I notice her looking around.
"She won't be here." I casually say, Jessica looks at me, sorry.
"Do you need a ride home?" Dodge cuts in, sensing the beginning of embarrassment.
"Oh... no, no, I'm good." I quickly say.
He looks at me unconvinced, then hums.
"We'll give you a ride. C'mon." He motion on and starts to walk without waiting for my answer. Jessica smiles proudly and walk away as well, so I have no other choice but to accept and follow them.
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"I think I already know the answer but... Will I see you at tonight's party?" I ask, as I step out of Dodge's car.
"You definitely know the answer." He smile at me and I sigh, nodding defeated.
"You're lucky I'm not like Natalie, or you wouldn't hear the end of it." I say.
"I tried to make him change his mind, but he's stubborn." Jessica chimes in from the driver seat.
"Yeah, it's one of the first things I learned about him." I laugh, "but I can't say he's wrong. I'm not a party person myself."
"You're young, enjoy these years, trust me." She tells us, using a sweet and motherly tone.
"We do enjoy them differently." Dodge replies smugly.
"I agree" I support him and Jessica just rolls her eyes with a smile, "I'll see you tomorrow at work then."
"Of course." He smiles.
"Be careful tonight, sweetheart."
"Drive safe!" I say walking to my house.
Well, my aunt's house, but since she's never here, it might as well be mine.
My phone rings once I change into something more comfortable.
Natalie, of course.
"Yes" I greet with a laugh, "I promised, I know."
"Oh good, you're making my job easier." She cheerfully replies. "I'll get there around 8? Does it work for you?"
"I don't have much of a choice so... yeah." I laugh.
"Wear something cute. We have to celebrate! Wear that cute dress you wore at my birthday party." She suggests at the end.
"Do you want to control what I wear now?" I scoff out a laugh.
"You're just so cute in that! C'mon!" She insists, "I'm making my puppy eyes."
"That doesn't work if I can't see you, you know that, right?"
"But you know what I look like." She sings trying to get me to agree.
"Fine.." I sigh, deeply, letting out a laugh too, "fine, I'll wear that stupid dress."
"Hey! It's not stupid! It's cute!" She scolds me jokingly. "I'll see you tonight, bye!"
"Bye!" I say having up the phone and heading ot my wardrobe to take out the short dress Natalie referred to.
To pass the time I'll clean around for a while, just to keep my mind busy. If I start to think, I'll end up thinking about Panic and I really don't want to think about it right now. I don't want to risk thinking too much and then back down. I'm taking the risk this time and I'm determined to win.
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We arrive at the already started party, Natalie parts from us to go greet some friends of hers, while I go find Heather and Bishop.
I spot them near the fire, drinks in hand already so I make my way to them.
"Hey." I say taking a set next to Heather.
"Hey Y/n. You came!" Bishop cheers, surprised.
"Natalie forced her to promise she would be here." Heather explained, simply.
"Exactly. Can't break a promise." I sigh, but glad I spend time with them.
"We're happy you're here." Bishop nod towards me, "you're just in time, we were-"
Ray's loud voice interrupts him mid-sentence.
"Oh god.." I sigh, Heather pats my arm comfortingly.
Ray gets close enough to shove the cup against Bishop.
"Final collection." He, basically, demands.
"School's out, okay? I'm not even playing." Bishop replies, raising both hands up.
"Think of it as an insurance." Ray says bending over to get on Bishop's eye level, "it's gonna be one he'll of a summer."
"C'mon, man, I'm not gonna play." Bishop tries once again, with a nervous laugh.
Suddenly Ray grabs his arm, it looks painful from Bishop's expression.
"We're all playing, one way or another," Ray says, not letting Bishop go.
Heather looks at me, pleading, and I sigh.
"Ray, leave him alone." I warn.
He turn his attention to me, looking me up and down until a smirk appears on his face.
"Well, well, well... did you dolled up for me?" He asks.
"No." I answer.
"Are you sure, baby? You know I love you in that dress..." he says, staring at my legs.
"You say that about everything..." I say annoyed.
"That's because you are my favourite." He winks and gets closer.
"Could you leave us?" I ask.
"Mmh?" He hums, then bends over, the cup rests quietly on the ground, he then puts his hands on both armchair, caging me.
"Listen, I know you have some trouble understanding human language, but this is pretty basic." I say and his smirk only grows.
"You can lie to yourself, but not to me. We both know the truth." He says and I catch him looking down at my lips.
"If it helps you sleep at night." I turn my head to find some support in my friends, but they only loom unsure of what to do.
"I do think of you at night, actually, if that's what you're wondering, but I don't... sleep exactly." He leans closer.
"You're disgusting." I push him away.
"Took you long enough to push me away." He winks again, "see you soon, baby."
And with that Ray finally walks away with his cup.
"Prick." I mutter out, takingn a sip of my drink.
"Hey," Heather calls for us, "a toast. To global amnesia."
I nod, grateful, at her and raise my cup.
"Nah..." Bishop says, "selective. There's a few things I want to remember."
I notice Heather and Bishop looking at each other, something passing through their mind and I would swear There's something going on between these two.
As we toast, Natalie finally joins us.
"Hey, what did I miss?" She asks.
"We were toasting to a future free of Ray." I answer her.
"And who will you angry flirt with?" She teases.
"Uh?"
"That guy sucks." Bishop intervenes, to which I nod.
That's how the evening goes, we talk, remembering the good old days, while Bishop and Heather also try to talk me and Natalie out of playing Panic... no success on their part.
"Let's go dance!" Natalie exclaims, to change subject. She grabs Heather's arm and goes to grab mine too, but I manage to avoid it.
"I'll sit this one out." I say, I notice Natalie's stare, "I never promised I would dance."
She scoff and grabs Bishop, who gives me a helpless look and I just shrug waving at him.
I decide to just stay seated and enjoy my beer and my peace.
"Waiting for me?" Ray's infamous voice makes me groan annoyed.
"Obviously not. Now if you don't mind leaving me alone." I say, not looking up at him.
"I do mind. Especially when you play hard to get, you know how much I love it." He replies, sitting down and dragging the seat right next to me.
"I'm not playing anything. I simply don't like you." I tell him and he leans closer to me.
"Yeah... sure." He softly says, looking down at my lips.
"It's not gonna happen again." I warn.
"Let's bet, then."
"Uh?" I can't deny I'm intrigued.
"I know, you like challenges, so let's bet." He says, confidently looking into my eyes.
"Bet what?" I ask, pretending not to be interested, but his smirk only shows me he see right through it.
"If I win Panic, you'll be mine." He says, looking at my lips again, biting his own.
"Yeah, sure." I laugh at that, taking a sip from my beer.
"Too scared?" He teases.
"No." I, too quickly, answer.
"C'mon," he whispers, "you're sure I'm not gonna win, right?"
"What I get if I win, uh?" I ask, raising my eyebrow.
"I'll leave you alone. Even though we both now you don't actually want that." He winks and stands up.
I consider him for a moment before nodding my head, standing too.
"Fine." I say.
He takes my beer and take a sip from it.
"Deal." he holds out his hands waiting for me to shake it.
"Deal." I sigh, taking his hand to shake it.
He hold my hand for a moment before he pulls me to him so he can whisper into my ear.
"Can't wait, baby." He leaves a peck on my ear and I quickly move away from him.
He smirks and starts to walk back, my beer in hand, before nodding his head and fully turning to walk away.
"Shit." I sigh.
I go look for Natalie and tell her I'm about to get going, since I have work tomorrow.
She tries his best to keep me here and celebrate, with Heather and Bishop's help, but I did my part and it's time for me to go and get some rest.
They reluctantly let me go, Natalie offers to take me home, and since it's already too dark I accept.
I can't wait to lay down on my bed, hopefully forgetting about the bet for a while.
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multifandomsimagine · 1 year ago
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Imagine being friends with Dodge
Walking down the sidewalk, you let out a sigh of relief when you spotted a familiar diner’s exterior. After a grueling shift at work dealing with a micromanaging boss, incompetent coworkers, and entitled customers, all you wanted to do is sit down and enjoy a nice warm meal before you headed home where you would pass out for who knows how long.
Pushing the door open, the bell announced your entrance as you stepped in, the door closing behind you with another chime. Scanning the room, you took note of how empty it was - it was pretty earlier in the morning and people were probably just waking up - before you took your usual seat at the counter. Looking at the window connected the kitchen to the seating area, your eyes meet Dodge’s blue ones. “Hey Dodge,” you said, waving at him with one hand as your other rested on the counter, propped up on one elbow, hand supporting your head.
“Hey [Name].” He gave you a nod. “You’re here earlier than usual.” You knew he wasn’t saying it like it was a bad thing but rather just commenting on it.
You were about to say something when you began hearing sizzling coming from his side. He was making you something to eat and it made you smile. Letting out a sigh, you told him: “Had to pick up someone’s shift and I just don’t want to talk about it.”
Dodge raised an eyebrow at this. “Why didn’t you just go home and sleep? You look like you’re ready to pass out from exhaustion.”
“Wow, Dodge. You really know how to make a girl feel special.”
He shook his head with a laugh. “You know I didn’t mean it like that.”
“I know; I’m just teasing.
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awkward-imp · 4 months ago
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This took me too fucking long. Anyway, like to charge reblog to cast
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energeticwarrior · 4 months ago
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And now we wait
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aashiyancha · 2 months ago
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ninyard · 8 months ago
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from: kevin, to: andrew
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flamingpudding · 9 months ago
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Triple Identity Crisis
Danny had a problem. If it was a big one, he couldn't tell yet but he was partially sure Clockwork was at fault for this. Or at least he wanted to blame his ghostly godparent who most likely just wanted to cause some chaos for entertainment with the pretext of helping Danny. Which was a very likely reason for why Danny had a problem right now.
As it was the former Fenton now Fenton-Wayne boy was pacing his room in the Manor trying to think what is next step should be, because as it was his 'new' family –Did new still apply if he was living with them for a little more than a year now? – knew him under three different Identities now. And to top it all off they were not aware that the three identities were all pretty much connected as one.
For one. His family, knew him as Danny, the space obsessed kid, who became a meta because of his ectobiology science obsessed parents and his teenager recklessness. A kid that was actually a genius if you gave him enough time for school and could make you anything out of a ancients be damed toaster. That was the Danny they mainly knew. The Kid they took in, let in on the family business and then chose, to the happiness of Alfred and dismay of some of his 'new' siblings, normal life over vigilante life.
Then they knew Phantom. A dead ghost hero that was helping the Justice League and Young Justice to help them deal with the aftermath of the huge fallout caused by the GIW, Guys in White or rather Ghost Investigation Ward. And while Danny didn't know he had apparently worked with nearly his entire family and that time he knew it now. Which was awkward because he had pretty much pestered one of his elder brothers about his condition until Red Hood, aka Jason, let Phantom help him. Ancient, things might get awkward if that secret is lifted. He had done a lot of things Batman, Nightwing, Red Hood, Red Robin, Orphan and Robin had scowled him for. Thankfully they only thought of him as a dead teen hero and didn't know what a Halfa was. So they didn't make the connection, and he had yet to meet Signal, aka Duke as Phantom.
Now came the third identity, which totally did not happen by his choice. After all officially he hadn't accepted the throne yet and would only get it once he was dead dead not half dead. To bad ancient texts don't care about formalities. So when trouble hit the fan really hard the Justice League Dark had the bright Idea of getting some other worldly help. Which in other words was summoning the Ghost King. Oh boy, was it fun to learn that way that Danny could get summoned against his will. Clockwork did not give him that warning when he told him about the future of his afterlife. But best of all? Oh he doesn't get summoned as Phantom which would have made things maybe a bit easier, oh no. Life wasn't easy. He got someone's in some as a super weird black-green mass of a formless eltrich body with sharp teeth, claws and glowing green eyes with no pupils or irises. Hell Danny even scared himself when he saw his own reflection in a window and he didn't have a single idea how to change his form.
Let it be known that Danny acted then on purpose like he didn't know a single person in that room he had been summoned in right out of his bed and that he wasn't staring at his adoptive father like he needed help who interpreted his stare as the ghost king sizing him up. And Danny knows this because Dick had a good laugh about that at the dinner table with the rest of his siblings.
Now a smart person would probably come clean to his family and explain to them the three identities they knew him under and how they are connected.
To bad Danny wasn't 'smart' when it came to things like that. No in his panic and newfound awkwardness of the situation of what he had done on separate occasions with his identity as Phantom AND Ghost King, he decided to keep acting like he didn't knew them personally like the truely does. Really how hard could that be? Besides he liked the way his family treated him now. He didn't want to get treated differently because he was half dead, or a Ghost King. He liked that his family was treating him as plain old Danny who had an obsession with space and was their quirkily little brother with powers.
So that gave him even more incentive to keep the act up. Even if it was hard at times, especially if he got summoned out of nowhere. It would be easier if he could get a hang of the duplication power. He even had played with the thought of getting one of his ghost rogues to help but his family was perceptive. Maybe not perceptive enough to realise that all three identities were one and the same person but they would notice if Danny acted just slightly different or if Phantom was more of then usually. But somehow he still managed to keep it up.
But it was the hard way that he learned, Danny was bad at doing the 'talking' and realized that maybe Jazz was right and he was going to slip up one day causing huge misunderstandings like right now.
He stared down at Batman and Nightwing in his Ghost King form. Red Hood had his guns pulled on him, Wonder Woman and Superman looked like they where going to try to pull back Batman any second now while Nightwing, maybe at first was going to try to calm down the bat but Danny was pretty sure the eldest bat kid was now fiercely glaring at him too. He was also pretty sure the only reason he didn't see Red Robin or Robin threaten him too was because their super friends were somehow holding them back. For their own or his safety he doesn't know at the moment.
Because apparently the Bats did not fear fighting otherworldly beings to protect one of their own.
"What did you just say about Danny Fentons death?!" Batman grunted out and Danny just knew his adoptive father was glaring at him. Ancients Danny cursed his brain to mouth filter right now. As he had the collective hero scene before him staring at his Ghost King form. Would this be a good or bad moment to come completely clean or maybe he should find some kind of philosophical bullshit of 'All things death belong to him'....
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leclercstars · 10 months ago
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save a horse.
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dodge mason x reader
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Summary: You're annoyed about getting paired with Dodge for a group project. He's quiet, cold, and you find nothing about him appealing (at least, that's what you're telling yourself.) Things start to take a turn when you end up having to work on the project in his bedroom, and suddenly, Dodge becomes the teacher.
Warnings: SMUT! 18+! protected sex, slight daddy kink, dom!dodge, nipple play
author's note: you all asked and you shall receive! god i love dodge mason (and you should too.)
“And you’ll be with Dodge Mason” the professor said when she got to your name on the class list. You thought you would be able to avoid group projects in community college, but apparently not. Dodge didn’t even shoot you a glance when the professor announced you as partners, so things were surely off to a great start.
He always sat in the very back, head low, kept to himself. He never raised his hand to answer a question or chime in on a discussion, and he always hurried out as soon as the professor dismissed class. You had seen him out at parties on occasion, chatting to one or two other guys in the corner. He looked good at parties, blue jeans and a tight t-shirt was a good uniform for him, especially when he added a cowboy hat. But his mysteriousness was unappealing, you found the whole “brooding cowboy” thing to be more cold and standoffish than sexy.
“Dodge! Dodge!” you chased him out of the classroom. You caught up with him and his expression hardly changed when he saw you. “What time should we meet to work on this?”
“8pm tonight sound fine?” he scrawled his address out on a piece of notebook paper and handed it to you.
“Sure! See ya then!” your cheeriness did not impact his mood, and you scoffed as you headed back to your car.
You did not find Dodge Mason appealing at all, but you found yourself standing in front of your mirror at 7:30 p.m. making sure that your outfit looked good. Your skirt was short, your shirt was tight. Why were you doing this? You kept trying to convince yourself you saw nothing in him, but your mind kept flashing back to the way his arms looked in those t-shirts that fit him so right. You threw on a hoodie so you at least seemed a little more casual.
He answered the door as soon as you knocked, and you walked in to quite a few folks in the dining room.
“Sorry, my sister has friends over. We’ll have to work in my room,” Dodge said as he led you down the hallway.
Why was your heart beating faster? You were just going in there to work, and it's only because you can’t go anywhere else.
His room was just as you expected it to be. Gray walls, navy bed sheets, decorated with rodeo trophies and a couple vintage cigarette ads.
“Neat room,” you said, even though it was boring as hell.
“Thanks.” he sat on one edge of the bed and you sat on the other, it felt like there was miles of distance between you- both physically and mentally at this point. Your legs were crossed tight, as you realized maybe wearing a skirt was not the best outfit choice for doing homework on a bed. The two of you got to work, talking about nothing except the work at hand. You were getting so bored, and your mind started to wander. His concentrated face was unfortunately very attractive, as he bit his lip looking down at the paper. His hands were huge, made evident by how small the pencil looked in them. His t-shirt was once again, tight. Hugging every muscle in his arm. You couldn’t stand it anymore. You took off your hoodie, revealing the crop-top you had on.
“Sorry, all this writing and concentrating is making me hot,” you laughed sheepishly.
“No problem.” Dodge replied plainly, although you couldn’t help but notice the way his eyes suddenly scanned your body. He wasn’t even trying to hide it, as they lingered on the curve of your hips and the peaks of your tits, visible over the neckline of your shirt. Your face was getting warmer than the sun.
“I need a break, why don’t you tell me about these trophies?” you shot up and stood by his dresser, desperate to form some sort of connection with this man.
“Alright,” he stayed on the bed. He began explaining each one in pretty great detail. If you couldn’t physically get close to him, at least this was helping you get to know him better. There was a big one from when he was kid that had a particularly funny story to go along with it, and you held the shiny gold cup, facing away from the bed. You didn’t notice the way he slowly got up, coming up behind you and sneaking his hands around your waist. Your breath hitched, the smell of his musky cologne apparent as his neck was mere inches from your face. He turned you around to face him, fingertips never leaving the exposed skin between your shirt and skirt.
You stared up at him, eyes dark and low. It wasn’t his usual uninterested stare. No, this was lust, a throbbing, aching lust. God, he was so tall. You nearly had to tilt your head all the way back to even make eye contact. He cupped your face with both hands and pulled you in, kissing you in a way that you had never been kissed before. It was as if his lips were a key and yours were the lock, they fit perfectly together. His tongue found its way down your throat as his hands started to gently roam, tracing every curve and pausing as he found your ass under the skirt. He cupped your ass and squeezed, hard, earning a moan from you into his mouth. You could feel him smile against your lips as he squeezed again, making you press your body into his. Fuck, his abs were so tight and so defined you could feel them through the fabric. You looked up at him again with pleading eyes and he smirked before leaning right next to your ear.
“You wanna learn how to ride?” he whispered. You knew he was cracking a joke but god it felt so serious in that moment.
“Yes daddy.” you groaned back. Woah. He had never asked you to call him that, and you were not the type to just bust that word out usually.
“Fucking christ I need you so bad,” he hoisted you up and you instinctively wrapped your legs around him as he carried you to the bed. So “daddy” was well received. He flung all the notebooks and paper to the ground with one swipe of his arm. He was holding you up with one arm, giving you a chance to realize how strong he truly was. He tossed you down on the bed, rough but making sure he didn’t hurt you. His shirt came off almost immediately, and you happily helped him undo his belt buckle so you could see more of him. His cock was already throbbing through his boxers, just coaxing you to sit on it. He had already pulled your shirt and skirt off, and expertly unhooked your bra, tossing it to the side and taking a moment as you laid there in nothing but a lacy thong.
“Goddamn,” he sighed, grazing his thumbs over your nipples, teasing you and only making you want his cock more. He started applying more pressure, doing gentle circles with his thumbs and pressing his erection between your legs. Your moans were soft as you bucked your hips into him with progressively more force.
“Easy,” he firmly placed his hands on your hips, steadying them and pressing them back down into the mattress. “That’s no way for a good girl like you to behave.”
Suddenly it was Niagara Falls between your thighs.
He kept playing with your nipples, pinching and twisting and flicking, seeing how good it clearly made you feel. He wrapped his hands around your back and flipped you on top of him, quickly pulling down his boxers and exposing his cock, already slick with pre-cum. He reached into his bedside drawer and pulled out a condom, looking at you as you straddled him.
“You ready baby?” he nearly cooed. You nodded and started to lift yourself up over him, but he decided to take control. His rough hands were planted firmly on the sides of your supple hips, guiding you onto his length. You were soaking wet, but he was so fucking big you could still only take half at once without flinching. He held you steady, waiting for you to get used to the feeling of him inside you. You both had locked eyes the moment he grabbed your hips, and neither had dared to look away, drinking in, being intoxicated by every emotion that crossed the other’s face. He slowly moved you down until you were fully sitting on his cock, gasping as the last inch pushed into your walls. Your hands were on his chest as you leaned forward, eyes now shut as you felt how close the two of you had become. Two hours ago he would barely say a word to you, now he was literally inside of you. He started rocking you back and forth, controlling your hips and making you feel so fucking good. Your clit rubbed against his abs as you rode, sparks zapping across your body every time he moved you in just the right way.
You were on top, but Dodge was fully in control. You were completely submitting to his touch, letting his hands do all the work. His body was doing all the talking he hadn’t done earlier, as he purposely thrust his abs up, knowing that was getting you closer and closer to the finish. You were starting to lose it, made completely stupid by how good his cock felt inside you.
“Fuck Dodge-daddy, fuck,” you were so so close, you could feel the orgasm starting to bubble up in your stomach.
Right as you were about to climax, Dodge sat up and leaned in.
“Cum for me good girl,” the thickness of his voice was enough to send you over the edge as you cried out, breaking free of his hands and grinding on him.
“Oh fuck me,” his head rolled back and the feeling of your pussy clenching around his dick was enough to finish him off, pulsating against your walls.
You slid yourself off him and collapsed onto his pillows, resting your head in the crook of his arm.
He started playing with your hair and the two of you just laid in silence, basking in the bliss of the sex you just had.
That was certainly one ride you never wanted to get off.
dividers by @.cafekitsune
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iizuumi · 8 months ago
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Side effects of wearing your sentient Kaiju suit too often ,,,,
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plagalkey · 4 months ago
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oikageweek2024 day 1: streamers 🎮
they met in a discord server and the rest was history
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chryseiswriting-blog · 9 months ago
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I really hope Neil tags along with Kevin when he goes to The Sunshine Court for the press conference and we just get Jeremy’s POV of pure gay panic meltdown when he hears all three of these traumatised sexy exy gangster boys chatting shit in French
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captainlunaxmen · 5 months ago
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Panic 2.0
Dodge Mason x fem!reader x Ray Hall
Chapter 2
This is a rewriting of my old series on @lunamadhatter99 , I decided to rewrite it because the series wasn't completed, and I didn't like it that much anymore.
Let me know what you think and also if you want to be tagged in the next chapters❤️❤️
Chapter summary: first challenge.
Warnings: none that I can think of.
Tag list
@stuckinthesmalldoor @once-upon-an-imagine @idontevenknow1359 @queensunshinee @daughterofthemoons-stuff @avengersheart @aleemendoza2425-blog @jensenrossing @ninaaaa9 @igotmajordaddyissues
I'm sorry if I can't tag everyone😔🥺
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The next day I'm not the first one to arrive at work, when I enter I find Dodge already cleaning the tables.
"Did you leave something to do for me too?" I joke.
"No, I did everything. You can go home" he says jokingly.
"Nah, I'll stay so I can pretend to work and earn my checks" I reply.
"Ooh smart" he says looking at me.
"As always" I wink at him.
I go change and get back to tidy up behind the counter and check the coffee machine.
"How was the party?" He casually ask while he re-fills the sugar jars.
"Eh.. a party. Not really my place, but Natalie insisted all week for me to go" I answer with a small chuckle, "so I couldn't exactly say no."
"So nothing interesting happened?"
"I might have made a bet" I mutter under my breath.
"You.. you made a bet?" He asks, holding back a laugh.
"Yeah..."
"Don't tell me" he's really trying not to laugh.
"Ray challenged me... if he wins panic I'll be his girlfriend" I explain.
"Oh god" he fully laughs now.
"Don't laugh" I tell him, holding back my own laugh.
"We're gotta make sure he doesn't win then" he says, casually.
"We? Would you help me?" I ask, feeling warm at his offer to help me.
"Sure, I won't let you ruin your life with a dick like him" he jokes, though his smile is almost embarrassed.
"You're a lifesaver" I say, as I finish cleaning, just in time for the clients to start to come in and order.
--------------
As I'm preparing a coffee to bring ti an onld lady at the table I see Heather coming in.
"Hey" I greet her. "What's that defeated face?"
"I got fired." She simply says.
"What?" I'm actually surprised. "But you're-"
"The only one who actually does anything? I know"
"I'm sorry to hear that, screw them you can do better," I sternly tell her as I bring the coffee to the client, "can I get you anything?"
"Just a coke thanks" she answers, I can feel the defeated tone in her voice.
"Coming" I say grabbing a glass.
As I'm putting the ice in the glass Dodge comes out, starting to pour the coke for me.
"Hi" he says "You're Heather, right? Dodge"
"Yeah, I know who you are. You're the new guy" she answers lightly.
"Well, it's been year" he looks at me, laughing softly and I smile at him, shrugging and serving Heather the coke.
"Everyone here has known each other from diapers, so the new guy is pretty big news" she explains and I chuckle knowing it to be true.
"Told you, nothing happens around here" I agree."Carp is actually the-"
"Capital of nothing. Nothing happening, nothing changing" Heather finishes for me, to which I nod, then I turn around to clean the cups the customers left before.
"What about panic?" Dodge asks, casually.
"There is no such thing" Heather says, but I can sense her eyes on my back.
No one talk about panic. No one wants to. No one can, actually.
"Then how'd those two kids die last summer?" Dodge asks raising his voice. He wants to know more about that.
"Whoa, keep your voice down" Heather shushes him.
"Oh so it is real" he lowers his voice again "you know I thought Ray was just shaking me down at first" he turn to me when I turn around myself, then look back at Heather" 'a dollar a day, everyday that school is in session' but then when I saw that everyone else had to pay in.." he looks at me "so, how does it work? When does it start?"
"We wait for the judges to send out a signal, which is different every year" I explain, earning a glare from Heather.
"And what.. we're just supposed to wait until then?" He asks.
"Pretty much" I nod.
"We're really supposed to forget about it" Heather speaks up, still glaring at me.
"Why?" Dodge look at her again.
"We're not supposed to talk about it, the cops know about the game and they know that Jimmy and Abby were competing. You could get in trouble for just watching" she says the last part looking at me, probably to convince me not to play.
Suddenly the door bell jingles and the Sheriff himself enters walking towards us, Dodge grabs the menu to give to him and grabs a glass for the water.
"Miss Nill" he greets Heather, while taking his hat off.
"Sheriff" she answers smiling awkwardly.
"Miss L/n" he nods to me.
"Hi Sheriff" I greet him back.
"Dodge" he greets him too "may I sit with the cool kids?" He jokes.
"Go for it" Heather answers after sending me an awkward look.
Sheriff Cortez sits and asks Dodge about his mother.
"She's working the night shift" Dodge answers quickly "can I get you something?"
"Let me get a root beer" he points.
I give Dodge a glass and turn back to the Sheriff who's looking at Heather papers.
"You job hunting?" He asks her.
"Begging" she specifies.
"You know, I'll bet your luck is gonna change when they finish the warehouse. I keep hearing they're gonna break ground any day, so.." he assures her.
Heather and I chuckle.
"They've been 'breaking through ground any day' since we were in eight grade" Heather say standing up to get out.
"Well good luck" the Sheriff tells her.
"Better get back to it" she answers.
"Good luck Heather" I tell her, smiling.
"Thanks, bye" she waves at me before exiting the caffè.
"What about your aunt, uh?" Cortez asks me.
"The usual, she's somewhere... doing... something" I answer simply.
"I see.."
"Yeah" I say wiping the counter.
There's silence for a while, me and Dodge cleaning and the Sheriff drinking his beer.
After the Sheriff says his goodbye and all the customers are gone me and Dodge are alone to close the café.
Once we get out, we hear fireworks outside.
"It's starting" I tell him. "Guess I'll see you at Pilot's Point" I take a deep breath.
"Definitely" he send me a reassuring smile before we go separate ways heading home so I can put on my bikini for the challenge.
I'll meet Natalie and Bishop there for sure, maybe Heather too.. if Natalie convinced her to come.
--------------
"Hey" I say to Bishop and Natalie when I finally spot them.
"Hey yourself" Bishop smiles.
"Hi, nervous?" Natalie asks me, clearly nervous herself.
"Actually, no. You?" I ask, even though I know the answer to that, I just need to look at her.
"A bit" she answers.
"This is the easiest challenge, no need to be nervous" I reassure her.
"Yeah.. yeah you're right. It's gonna be fine" she says, trying to convince herself.
"Yeah, I wish you two change your mind, sure, but it's gonna be fine" Bishop tells her.
"No turning back now" I say.
"Well.. technically you still can... not jump" he points out.
I slightly shove him.
I see Dodge standing by himself, as we lock eyes I wave at him, he waves back nodding his head encouraging and I do the same.
Before I could even think of walking towards him, Diggins' voice through the bullhorn catches everyone's attention.
"May I have your attention?" He starts "welcome to panic!"
Everybody cheers.
"My name is Diggins, and this summer I will be your host with the most. This year the winner of Panic is gonna take home the grand prize of $50,000!" He enthusiastically announces.
More cheering.
"That's the biggest pot ever, last year was only $30,000" Natalie says, excitedly.
"You all know the rules" Diggins continues" what happens at a challenge, stays at a challenge, so I don't want to see any posting, tweeting or gramming about it, no exceptions. Anyone found in violation risks losing game privileges. First challenge is the Jump." He points then towards the cliff "remember kids,you want to go out and down into the swimming hole. You miss it, and it's gonna be the rocks that break your fall."
He definitely knows how to reassure people.
"Take a leap from the Lookout and grab yourself 100 points, courtesy of this year's friendly judges, whoever they may be." He explains "let the games begin!"
Everyone cheers loudly.
"That's our cue" Natalie says, unzipping her dress.
Bishop looks at her. "You know, I have the same suit"
He's probably trying to lighten Natalie's mood. I laugh at that, but Natalie couldn't seem to hear it.
"Let's go" I tell her, once I got my shorts off too.
Summer is responsible for listing the players.
Natalie takes a deep breath looks at me, I give her a reassuring look.
"Hit me" Natalie tells Summer.
"Hey Natalie, You're number 11" she replies.
Natalie looks at me one last time and I nod to encourage her onve again, before she can head for the cliff.
As I'm letting Summer writing the number on me Dodge arrives too. We share encouraging looks and I start to walk to the cliff too.
I hear everyone cheering.
"Contestant number one, announce yourself" Diggins says through the bullhorn.
"You know my name, Diggins. Your mom screams it every night" hearing Ray's voice makes me roll my eyes, of course he would've been the first one to jump.
After him one by one the other players jump.
It's my turn.. and I decide to go for the High Point.
"Oohh High Point ladies and gentlemen" Diggins announces.
"For all you virgins, out there, a quick reminder: a jump from the high point will get you a 25-point bonus." Diggins explains as I get there.
I look over the edge. Taking a deep breath.
It's gonna be fine. I tell myself.
"Contestant number 12. Announce yourself!"
"Y/n L/n!" I scream, immediately.
I keep looking at the edge.
Not the time to get scared now. Shit.
"You can still go back to the lowest jump. No judgment here." Diggins tell me.
"Fuck off, Diggins! Thank you." I reply.
"Always a princess" he jokes.
"Want me to do a flip?" I joke back.
"Don't play with fire, Y/n" he warns. I can feel he's worried, he's one of the few people I can stand, I can call a friend.
I smirk, take a few step back and then run to jump.
I keep my eyes closed until I hit the water and swim back up again.
"And another one, everybody!" Diggins exclaims. "The Princess is playing!"
I flip him off as I swim back to shore where Natalie and Bishop are waiting for me.
"Great jump" Natalie hands me a towel to dry myself.
"Thanks" I say breathless.
I turn around and see Dodge going for the High Point too.
"Another High Point!" Diggins cheers. "Contestant number 13, announce yourself"
Dodge doesn't answer.
"Announce you-"
"Dodge Mason" Dodge cuts him off.
He then throws the flare in the water and jumps.
Everyone around me cheers, I can't until I see him emerging.
"High Point is popular tonight! Way to rise the stakes, Dodge."
I walk with Natalie away from the big crowd.
"Weren't you scared?" Natalie asks me, "that's pretty high."
"For a minute, I think" I tell her "but then... nah, it's just a jump"
"Yeah"
I spot Dodge and walk towards him
"Hi" I say, still out if breath.
"Hi" he's putting his shirt back on.
"Great jump" I say.
"Yours too" he smiles.
"You got scared up there or?"
"Not to jump no. It's the landing that gets you in trouble" he chuckles.
"Agree" I smile.
"Do you need another towel?" He asks me, ready to hand me one.
"No, thanks I-"I stop as I see Natalie walking to.. Heather? What?
"You okay?" Dodge asks.
"Yeah.. yeah don't worry" I smiles again."I'll see you tomorrow, okay? I gotta go."
"Sure.. sure see you tomorrow, princess" he teases using the nickname Diggins used earlier.
"Don't push it, Mason" I reply with a chuckle, rolling my eyes.
I walk up next to Natalie, watching Heather walking to the cliff.
"What's Heather's doing?" I ask her.
"Playing" she says emotionless.
She seems angry, Heather always said she would never play, she also tried to talk us out of playing ourselves. So why would she play?
I'm not angry, I'm not as competitive as Natalie, I'm more worried. I'm afraid something happened to Heather.
I keep my eyes focused on the cliff untill I see her, not moving by the edge of the first cliff.
"Contestant number 23. State you name"
Silence.
Heather doesn't even move.
"Heather come down" Natalie screams.
Then she moves, as if something snapped in her head. She's walking to the High Point... no... Devil's Drop.
Something definitely happened.
"What's she doing?" Natalie sounds furious.
"She's playing" Bishop says.
I hear people trying to convince her both to jump and to come down.
I look at Diggins, he seems uncertain on what to do, but he ask her to say her name anyway.
"Heather.. Nill. Heather Nill"
"C'mon Heather!" I scream, which grants me a glare from Natalie.
She then jumps.
Holy shit. She actually did it.
--------------
Heather's jump definitely got people talking, she didn't stay for long after that, she disappeared almost immediately. I need to check on her as soon as I can, something doesn't seem right.
"Want a ride home?" Dodge appears beside me, as everyone is leaving.
"Oh, I thought you already went home" I say confused, "it's fine, I can walk don't worry " I assure him.
"Are you sure?" He says nodding to my left.
I look that way and see Ray with his friends, looking at our direction.
"Yeah.. actually, I think I'll accept your offer" I tell him.
"The carriage awaits" he replies holding I'd arm out to point me in the direction of his car.
"Thanks" I laugh.
We walk together to his car, as I sit I'm thankful I'm not walking, I realise now how my feet are hurting.
"How does it usually work? What happens next?" He asks as he drives.
"Well whoever jumped tonight is a player with 100 point, except for us with a 25 bonus and Heather with a 50 bonus and immunity for a challenge. Now we wait for any clue from the judges for the time and place of the next challenge. It could be anything, a crossing, labyrinth, animals.. there's really no scheme" I explain.
"That's..." he starts, hesitating.
"Fucked up? Kinda, but it's the only way to get out of here" I say.
"Is it really?"
"Well.. if you think about it no, but $50,000 helps." I chuckle.
"Yeah you're right" he says.
"Hey.. I know we're kind of competing against each other, but we're still friends right?" I ask.
"Sure. Why would I have offered you a ride?" He smiles.
"Out of pity?" I joke, "or to murder me."
"Oh definitely" he says sarcastically.
"I knew it.. you don't care about me!" I say dramatically.
"I care about you, more than you know" he says seriously. "Princess" he quickly adds teasingly.
"I'm not punching you only because you're driving" I laugh and he does too.
It makes me smile, I'm happy he opened up to me like this, at first I was worried to work with him since he seemed so uninterested in talking to everyone else and I am not much for talking myself, but with time we both opened up to each other. It's nice.
He told me about his sister, his family, his father... And, of course, I told him about my family too.. that talk was intense for us both, but it helped us get close, I'm happy about that, now that I think about it.
"Here we are" he stops the car in front of my house. "Can I tell you something?"
"Sure"
"Don't get me wrong" he's nervous, "I know you're okay with it and all, you're independent.. but I really don't like knowing you alone in that house" he confesses.
That took me a little by surprise
"I'm used to it..it's not that bad, you know. There's always some lights on, since I'm not the one to pay" I joke trying to reassure him.
"The fact that you're used to it doesn't make it right" he says, almost angry, though I know he's not mad at me.
"I know, but there's not much I can do.." I shrug. "You really don't have to worry though, I'm fine, I mean I have your mother's number, I'm basically untouchable."
That made him laugh, at last.
"You're unbelievable" he says, rolling jis eyes."you promise to call? Even for the smallest thing?"
It's the first time I see him worried about me like this.
"I promise" I smile at him, patting his hand to reassure him, but he grabs my hands to squeeze it slightly, then lets go.
"Okay then, sleep well, you need energies to pretend to work" he jokes.
"Oh yes, that sucks all my energies. I need at least 12 hours of sleep" I joke back getting out of the car."Goodnight to you too"
"See you tomorrow Y/n"
I walk to my front door unlocking it when I open it I hear Dodge's car moving. He always waits for me to enter the house before driving away.
He's a sweet guy..very sweet. I shake my head, I can't catch feelings now.. can I?
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thismission · 4 months ago
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if you haven’t felt sad about lucanis today may i offer you this
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girlsworldillusion · 1 month ago
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Scream for me little lamb
Ghostface!Aemond x Fem!Reader
Summary: You don't know him, you haven't even seen him before. Yet this cruel killer is in your mind, entangled like a parasite. For just one night you want to get rid of this feeling - to get rid of him. What's the worst that could happen?
Rated: Explicit (+18)
Dividers: @cafekitsune
Word count: 5k
Author's Note: This story contains themes that may be disturbing or triggering for some, such as: DETAILED DESCRIPTIONS OF PANIC ATTACKS, BLOOD, MURDER, OBSESSIVE BEHAVIOR, THREATS, AND SEX. Your health (mental and physical) should always be your priority, if any of these themes are too heavy for you to handle I beg that you ignore this post. To those who choose stay, I wish you a good read!
The reader suffers from some emotional issues. But who doesn't, right?
English is not my first language, I apologize for any mistakes you may find.
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Come on, it’ll be fun, she said.
You urgently need to relax, she said.
It’s just a quiet night, what’s the worst that could happen? She said.
Quiet night my ass, you think.
“Come on, pumpkin, you’re not even trying!” Your roommate scolds you, shouting too close to your ear, causing you to flinch with a uncomfortable grimace. “There’s life outside the dorms, you know? Is it really that much of a challenge to just enjoy the party?” Her pout is exaggerated enough for anyone in the room to see, even with the shitty stereoscopic lighting in the place.
“Hey, just try, okay? Smile, drink more, find someone cool to flirt with a little. I don’t know, do something other than just studying nonstop! Please try to have fun!” The liquid in the red cup clutched between your fingers nearly spills onto your clothes with the not-so-subtle push she gives you, her shrill, excited voice echoing louder and louder in your ear, managing to accomplish the impressive feat of overcoming the already criminally loud volume of the music playing on the speakers.
"Your idea of ​​fun is very different from my idea of ​​fun." You say, a good few decibels below her tone, grudgingly sipping another sip of your sickly sweet drink. "Ugh, this is horrible!" You wince at the syrupy, artificial taste of alcohol on your tongue, the bridge of your nose wrinkling in disgust - the exact same reaction as the last four times you've had a drink. Mako notices it too, if the wry laugh that leaves her lips is anything to go by. But what in the world is this anyway? And why in the hell do you keep drinking?
"Here I am, just trying to be a good friend by getting you out of that depressing cave you call a dorm to bring some action and joy into your life to, you know, expand your horizons, and you pay me back with complaints and boredom? That hurts, pumpkin, really hurts!" She's a total drama queen and your completely unimpressed expression makes it clear.
"Seriously, gaslighting now?" You roll your eyes so hard you think you can feel them in the back of your head.
"Don't blame a girl for trying!" She holds up her hand in a peace sign, another unrepentant smile on her lips.
You shake your head in denial.
"Anyway, I still find it really weird that they're throwing a party so soon after those students were killed." Your voice drops lower, looking out at the noisy crowd with a frown of disgust.
She snorts, knowing full well that something like this was coming.
"Look, I'm sad about what happened too. But it's okay to relax once in a while, okay? Shit, you're young, single, and hot as hell. You should be enjoying your life. We can't let some weirdo with a death god complex stop us from having the best time of our lives!" Your friend gestures wildly with the hand that isn't holding her glass, the alcohol in her system making her even more giggly and reckless than usual.
She exchanges 'Rated: M' glances with a buff guy across the room - a popular member of the football team and one of the hosts of the party, you recognize - winking provocatively as she shrugs her shoulders to show off her breasts, being completely and embarrassingly open about her naughty intentions toward him tonight.
"Come on, you can't honestly tell me you don't think any of these frat guys are good enough to eat in one bite."
There’s a hint of reprimand dancing on the tip of your tongue, an almost natural instinct to tell Mako exactly how selfish she’s being right now, insensitive even, with everything that’s happened recently. You weren’t close or even knew those students directly, it’s true. But they were still students at your college, faces you saw every day among the masses. They were people who had been around for a short time, walking and breathing. And then they weren’t anymore. Their young lives were taken away before they could know exactly what they wanted to do with their futures, who they were going to be in the grand, merciless scheme of things.
You don’t feel comfortable celebrating when there are parents at home crying over their children whose bodies have barely cooled underground.
But Mako was right about one thing.
The idea of ​​living in daily fear of a man you had never seen in your life was draining every bit of spare energy from you. This mysterious killer had managed to disturb you, making you constantly paranoid, scared, and fearful. You spent your days looking around, suspicious of everything and everyone, with the electrifying feeling that at any moment he could jump in front of you and make you his newest victim. He even controlled your schedule. Because of him, you barely left the dorms anymore, always declining your friends' invitations with lame excuses. Not that you were a social butterfly before this, but this was a completely different level of seclusion - high even by your standards.
The thought that this man, who probably didn't even know you existed, was dictating the way you lived your own life was disturbing, to say the least.
You looked around, uncomfortable at how everyone was shouting, dancing, smoking, laughing, singing loudly - acting as if nothing had happened. As if three college friends hadn’t been brutally murdered a few days ago. It’s wrong, and your whole body screams it. It’s not respectful, it’s not safe. And yet, for some reason beyond explanation, you seem to be the only one terrified; the only one who’s actually having your life changed to avoid becoming a statistic.
And in that moment, with that realization in mind, Mako’s words make some sense. You don’t want to give this psychopath that kind of power.
“God, is sex all you think about?” That’s what you choose to say after a long pause, sighing in boredom at the nothing less than shameless winks your friend is giving the guy through her eyelashes. The guy, surrounded by his usual horde of friends who are just as scoundrels as he is, is returning Mako’s advances with double the intensity and lack of decorum; splaying a large hand over his jeans, right where the bulge of an admittedly sizable erection is, grinning at her like a mediocre porn star. Any more obvious than that and they’d be fucking right here on the floor, in front of all these people.
That, coupled with the creeping onset of a growing headache with each deafening beat of the speaker and the unstoppable chatter of the students around you, is making you more anxious than usual. The mass of bodies squeezing against each other to the rhythm of the music is so thick that you can barely tell one person from another; the smell of alcohol, shared sweat, sex, and cheap weed makes you wrinkle your nose every few minutes.
For socially stunted people like you, there were few things as overwhelming as a frat party roaring at the top of its lungs.
“Hey! Don’t blame me for this, blame those thirsty youthful hormones.” She shrugs as she speaks, tilting her head to slyly wrap the straw between her lips and suck on some more of her drink, her catlike gaze dancing indecisively between you and the guy from the football team.
You roll your eyes, but can’t help but feel a bit tinge of envy at her easy, playful attitude, the way she could just tune out her problems and enjoy the ride. She’s at home here, you notice; a natural in her habitat. This is normal for her — just another night amidst the noise and blatant flirting, playing with lewd looks that by itself carry more sexual activity than you’ve experienced in months.
Mako has always been your antithesis; bold and vibrant, seeing a bright and fun side to every situation — no matter how fucked up it was. Always trying to color the monochromatic palette of the world with the eccentric catastrophe that is her personality.
You, on the other hand…
Suffice it to say, your way of seeing the world is far less optimistic.
You pinch the bridge of your nose in exasperation for a second, already knowing that you’re going to regret your next decision.
But you were already here, right? And she said it would be fun. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad to try and enjoy it.
You sigh deeply before changing your expression, looking up at an expectant and anxious Mako, practically bouncing on her feet as she awaits your decision.
"So...you think I'm hot, um? Tell me more about it." Your lips stretch into a forced smile as you awkwardly shake your hips in that stupid Sailor Moon costume she forced you to wear, trying to have even a fraction of the blissful ignorance that naturally flows from your friend. You want to enjoy the ride. Even if the base boost of the music is threatening to tear down not only the walls of the frat house, but also the ones in your skull.
Mako's loud laugh assures you that you've managed to make her happy.
It's like she said...
What's the worst that could happen?
▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎
"No, no, no, not now..." You get your answer about two hours later, with your hands resting on the bathroom counter of a random suite upstairs, staring at your helpless reflection in the mirror.
There is some kind of purple LED in place of the conventional bulbs, flooding the entire bathroom with low lighting typical of a gaming room or something, a fact that only serves to make you even more distressed. The nuances in light and dark shades of violet almost mockingly highlight your blatant desperation in the mirror's reflection.
It is true that the intense blush on your cheeks and the bridge of your nose and the skin damp with sweat could easily be justified by those drinks and every attempt at electrifying dance and involuntary contact with countless heat bodies in the cramped party room, as well as your unstable breathing and disheveled hair.
But the way your hands are shaking violently where they’re flat on the granite, or the way your heart trapped in your ribcage seems to swell until it threatens to burst, and how your throat is tightening to the point where you’re choking on tiny, fragile wheezes…
These symptoms speak of something else…
You’re about to have a panic attack on irrefutable evidence.
God, how long has it been since you’ve had one of these? A year? Maybe longer?
It doesn’t matter. Fuck, it doesn’t matter now!
You sigh a thin, impatient sound between your teeth, the strands of hair on the side of your face trembling along with your entire body, your hand letting go of the edge of the sink to palm in anguish the space between your breasts beneath the garish purple lace of your costume — where your heart feels like it’s being crushed in a tight fist.
Could it have been the deafening beat of the music? Has your seclusion for so long left you so unprepared to deal with something like this? Or could it have been the incessant chatter of the students? Maybe the sheer number of people crammed into this godforsaken frat house that was clearly not designed to hold so many at once? Could it just be a consequence of your obsessive neurosis about him?
"97..."
You're falling. Or maybe flying?
"89..."
Floating in time and space. Deaf to anything but the terrors of your own mind. Reciting decreasing prime numbers like your therapist had taught you, a conscious effort to control and distract your collapsing nerves and the painful pounding of your heart.
"Fuck...fuck...83 -, ugh!"
Your eyes squeeze tightly together, unwilling to face your ravaged reflection in the mirror any longer, your head spinning in denial. The walls are too close, the floor too far beneath your feet, your own skin too tight around your flesh.
"79," you force the number from your lips, force your breath out in shallow puffs, cold sweat trickling down the back of your neck.
The thumping music downstairs is a bit muffled now, though the party is as lively as ever - but up here you feel your world shudder and crumble beneath your feet. 
But you'll survive. You always survive.
Keep breathing...just keep breathing -
▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎
"7..."
You've been counting prime numbers for longer than you can keep track of right now, but somewhere along the grueling hell that is imploding in your own mind, your voice has regained a bit of strength. Your fingers are also shaking less, you notice distantly.
With a pained sniff, you look up at the mirror as you feel you've regained a fraction of control of yourself, taking in the humiliating image before you.
Your gaze is dull and tired. Your nose and cheeks are redder than before, your skin sticky with sweat that's now almost dried. Your whole body still trembles slightly in the aftermath of the panic attack, and the hair around your face is messier than before from all the times you pulled it in the middle of the crisis. You're a mess, undeniably. But you feel less like shit now than you did a few minutes ago, and that should count as some kind of bittersweet victory in your book of failures.
With a tug, you pull the long white gloves off your hands to turn on the faucet, letting the water run down your cupped palms to spray a little on your face. The cold water on your overheated skin makes you sigh.
This is the kind of person you had become, isn't it? Someone incapable of going to a simple frat party without having a damn panic attack. How pathetic.
"That's it, no more parties for you, young lady." You mumble as you dry your hands and cheeks on the fluffy towel hanging next to the sink, silently praying that your shaky legs will cooperate on the walk to your dorm on the other side of campus.
Mako wouldn't much like knowing that you were already leaving, but you'd like it even less for her or any of your friends to know about your little meltdown in the upstairs bathroom. It was bad enough that you had no control over it, you didn't need to see the pity reflected in her eyes when she found out, only adding to your humiliation.
Poor little broken thing, she would think.
Maybe you could just slip away without being seen and text her when you got dorms to say you were okay, leaving her questions to deal with later. You had already handled more than you could handle tonight, she would understand eventually. Not that she would notice your absence for a while, busy as she was swapping saliva and other bodily fluids with that guy.
Your phone vibrates abruptly on the counter and you jump at the unexpected noise, blinking rapidly at the letters on the screen.
Unknown Number.
With a eye roll and a still-racing heartbeat, you decide to just ignore the call, as you usually do every time an 'unknown number' pops up. Honestly, who still makes calls these days when you have a messaging app that works just fine, thank you very much? But whoever is behind that call doesn't feel the same way, and soon your iPhone's screen flashes again, bright as a beacon in the purple bathroom lighting, the device moving a few inches across the counter with the vibrations. You sigh and ignore it once more until you're done, but it vibrates again on a third try. And a fourth, when the last one doesn't work.
On the fifth try, you pick up your phone and answer with an exasperated huff, summing up your mood perfectly.
"Hello?"
The person on the other end of the line has the audacity to let out a sigh of relief - dramatic even, you might say, upon hearing your voice.
"There she is. For a moment there I thought you weren't going to answer, princess." The voice that greets you is soft, laughing, a satisfied and calm masculine purr.
"I tried. What do you want?" You answer sullenly, not in the mood to deal with this probable pervert who has nothing better to do with his life than to disturb random people late at night. You were never the brightest star when it came to social chess, and you certainly wouldn't start being so soon after your first panic attack after so long without any episodes. You were out of practice. Your head throbs, your nerves are frayed, your voice is fragile, the muscles in your body ache from the time you spent tense and trembling during the crisis. You just want to go bed.
"Easy now, little girl. I just want to know if you're okay." He hums, oblivious to your irritation.
You know he clearly hears the disdainful snort that leaves your lips. Before you can respond, however, he continues with the sentence that would change your life forever.
"That was really bad...are you sure you're better now?"
You blink at the mirror, your brows furrowed in irritation and headache. You know you should just end the call, not entertain any malicious intentions from this stranger. Yet, you find yourself answering before you even realize it.
"What are you talking about?"
"Your panic attack, love. That was a big one, hm? I thought it would never end." He hums nonchalantly, as if discussing his favorite ice cream flavor, and you part your lips at your reflection, a warning shiver settling at the base of your neck and slowly making its way down your spine.
"Um," you swallow uncomfortably, subtly glancing up at the walls and tight corners of the bathroom, looking for possible openings or hidden cameras. You had the bad luck to walk into some weird, perverted frat nerd's room, is that it? "So you're at the party too. Having fun time?" You shrug in the mirror, trying to sound blasé about what he said, but your voice is noticeably shakier than you’d like.
There’s no reason to be nervous, you try to reason with yourself when your visual scan doesn’t point to any apparent cameras. This guy probably just saw you hurrying up the stairs and is curious about your delay in returning to the party, that’s all. Although it’s still weird, since you made sure to hide in the privacy of the bathroom before your meltdown was actually noticeable to any prying eyes.
And how the hell did he have your number anyway?
"Oh yeah. Having a great time." The man answers, the lightheartedness in his voice fading to a deeper, darker tone at the end, though the smile in his voice is clear - mocking, even through the call line.
"By the way, I loved your costume. Which Sailor are you?" He prompts, returning to his airy tone, and you entertain once again the urge to just hang up on him, your already severely damaged nerves not quite able to handle the load of honest, and pointless, curiosity in the stranger's husky voice. The abrupt change in intonation makes your headache throb more by the second.
"Uh, Sailor...Mars...I guess?" You shrug, unsure why exactly you bother answering, the tip of your index and middle finger on your other hand coming up to massage your temple in slow circles, eyelashes resting on the top of your cheeks as you squint tiredly. Honestly, you're not sure if your answer is right. Having barely time (or interest, to be honest) to assess the costume before tonight - when it was shoved rudely in your face by a Mako determined to bring you to this party. You don't trust your knowledge of Sailor Moon, or any anime for that matter, to confidently answer the man's question. But...yeah...you think you might be right.
"It looks so cute on you, sweetie." He purrs on the other side; sickeningly sweet, sweet as molasses. And that's what makes you straighten up in front of the mirror - his voice suddenly sweet. Your eyes become fixed, a small hitch in your breath; suspended, alert, waiting for his next words. "I've thought so since you arrived at the party. So cute and so fucking pretty. Tiny and pretty in that silly costume."
"W-what? Who's...?" You swallow uncomfortably, but he interrupts you.
"So pretty, and so lonely too. Always lonely, aren't you sweet girl?" The way he says it, confident and calm, as if he’s absolutely certain of what he’s saying, as if he knows you. You squirm, agitated and raw, but you clench your fist at your side.
“And how would you know that?” You want to sound sharp, but you know your voice betrays how much he’s upsetting you.
“Oh, I can see that, princess.” He breathes, followed by a low hum, stretching out an enigmatic pause until your fingers are trembling around the phone. “I see how you’re always alone; misfit and scared, like a little deer hiding from the glare of headlights to avoid being caught. Isn’t that what you do, love? Trying everything to get away from that airheaded friend of yours and others equally idiotic, burying your nose in some book in the quietest part of the library so you don’t have to talk to anyone. Your hiding place, isn’t it?” He laughs with clear disdain and you feel your vision blurring, the discomfort in your stomach worsening with each word he utters.
But he doesn't stop there.
"I see how those beautiful eyes are always brimming with emotions, emotions that you deliberately refuse to share with anyone, no matter how much they insist that you open up. It's interesting how you have social options, but you choose solitude every single time. Not that that's a complaint, of course. Solitude suits you well, sweet thing."
Your breathing is faster now, loud enough for the stranger on the other side to hear, but you don't care about that. All you can think about is the information the man spewed into your ear.
He knows where you retreat to escape the incessant noise of the world around you, he knows the walls you've built around yourself, the emotional blockage in opening up to anyone - your complete unwillingness to do so. He’s not just talking about the color of clothes that you usually wear around campus — a quirk that anyone could notice and use to scare you at a time like this. No, it’s not that simple. He’s talking about intimate things, about feelings; things that only someone who lives with you could say.
The thing is, you’re not an idiot. A self-imposed hermit with anxiety issues? Of course yes. But not an idiot. You understand enough about human psychology to know that every word that comes out of this stranger’s mouth is a threat cloaked in a teasing, sugar-coated tone. And the fact that he’s telling you personal things isn’t coming from some bizarre attempt to initiate a social interaction with you, but a demonstration that he knows exactly who you are. The game is blatantly in his favor, because he knows you, but you have no idea who he is. He holds the power here, and he’s making that clear to you.
"Are you okay there, princess? You've gone so quiet on me sudden." His voice snaps you out of your trance once more, eyes flickering rapidly to your horrified reflection in the mirror.
"W-who are you, a fucking stalker? How the hell do you know this things about me?" He laughs at the false bravado in your voice, your discomfort obvious and clear to him, no matter how much you don't want it to be.
"Nah, more like a secret admirer, I'd say." He answers you matter of factly, the acidic smile on his lips bleeding through the line. "Secret not for long, of course." There's a hint of suspense in it, something ominous that lingers in the silence that follows, as if he's purposefully fermenting you in his dark insinuation.
That's it, you need to hang up.
"Don't call me again or I swear I'll report you to the police, idiot." You threaten with a venomous sigh. A bluff, of course. There was no way you could make a minimally consistent complaint when you not only had no information about who this crazy man could be, but there wasn't even a real number registered for that call that could serve as evidence in a future police report. Unknown Number, that was all you had to work with. He knew that too, judging by the amused laughter buzzing on the other side of the line. You still hear it clearly when you pull the phone away from your ear to click the red icon on the screen, ending the call.
You're shaking when you look up at your reflection in the mirror, the woman in front of you staring at you with wide eyes and a scared face, the rush of raw adrenaline in your veins making your body vibrate like a power cable.
She said it would be fun.
Mako said it would be fun.
You shouldn't be here tonight if it weren't for that damned promise.
The prospect of change wasn't appealing to you; safety was appealing. Habits and routine were appealing. Habits and routine kept you healthy, safe. Nothing outlandish ever happened in your life, and you almost preferred it that way — if there were no surprises, there would be no disappointments, no risks, no panic attacks.
You weren’t supposed to be here tonight, and there was no other explanation than the folish notion that some cosmic misalignment had occurred and you were stuck right in the middle of an anomaly.
You try to take a deep breath, the discomfort in your chest indicating a possible second wave of panic approaching. No, no, not again. You just want to leave, you want to get out of this damn house and back to the safe confines of your dorm room before any more horribly improbable things happen to you tonight.
Rationally, you know that leaving the bathroom doesn’t seem like the most sensible option, especially when the stranger on the phone has offered you clues that he’s lurking outside. But all your scared, adrenaline-fueled mind can process at the moment is the urgent desire to get away from this place as quickly as possible. And that’s why you take one last deep breath, offering one more look at the forlorn woman in the mirror before quickly grabbing your gloves from the counter and turning to open the bathroom door, walking out without looking up as you unlock your phone with trembling fingers to text Mako.
"Ouch!" You gasp as you hit your forehead on something solid as soon as you step out, your phone dancing between your hands with the impact until it falls to the floor with a loud thud, along with your white gloves. Your instinctive reaction is to bend down to pick it up, already fearing possible damage to the screen, a damage that you certainly couldn't pay at the moment, but the tip of a black boot immediately appears in your line of vision, kicking your phone into the bathroom with a rough blow.
"Hey, what's your problem?!" You growl, looking up, your neck craning to glare at the rude idiot in front of you.
However, the indignation dies on your tongue and your heart sinks in your chest when the empty eyes of a masked figure stare back at you.
It's a costume party, of course, and the guy is in costume. There's nothing really suspicious about it. Nothing you should think twice about.
But when your eyes slide to what he holds between his fingers; the blade of an intimidatingly large kitchen knife, dripping thick liquid in fat crimson drops onto the floor, the smell is ferrous and acrid and so unmistakable; so strong that not even the smell of cheap weed and wet sex that seems to be embedded in every square inch of this frat house is enough to cover up that odor. Blood. Human blood. Dripping and heated.
And you just know.
You know it's him.
God knows how many days (fucking weeks) your hyperfocus has been on this man. The search bar of your browser and social media was full of questions about him, hunting like a detective in the safe solitude of your dorm room, eagerly searching for any clues to his identity. Nothing but "tall masked man" was what you came up with, no matter how hard you tried. His victims didn't live to tell the tale and the few, rare glimpses of him were too vague to confirm anything.
It’s insane the idea that you could tell it was him when there was barely any information about who he might be or what he looked like, but you know — you just know.
He stands there, relaxed and unfazed as you study him with growing horror, as if it were the natural thing to do — as if he’d been waiting all along for you to open the door so he could enter. And then the masked figure takes a casual step into the bathroom, the easy confidence in this simple act foreshadowing his ease in overpowering his victims.
You swallow hard, backing away slowly as you lock eyes with the killer’s empty mask holes. The notion that there’s no way out of the room becoming painfully obvious to you. The man takes up the entire space of the exit; the width of his shoulders spanning almost from one side of the doorframe to the other, his long legs slightly apart to fill any gaps.
The only way out of here would be if you stepped over him; and that wasn’t going to happen.
So much for a fun night.
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(Part II in progress, if you are interested.)
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energeticwarrior · 4 months ago
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Close enough
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lesbianjarjarbinks · 4 months ago
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spotted outside of when we were young festival 10/19/24
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