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#cry of fear soundtrack
tapeworrmart · 4 months
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"Being lonely does things to you"
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hopeinthebox · 3 months
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tagged by the fabulous @cordiallyfuturedwight and @jimin-gaon <33 here's the december list
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apologies for being late again new year same me: @aprylynn @jiminsproof @pauls-mccharmly @thvinyl @visionsofgideontheninth @btsbs @kimchokejin @jihopesjoint @eoieopda @monismochi 💜 and anyone else who feels so inclined MWAH p.s. please do tag me anyway if you've already done it
#superfluous commentary in the tags as per usual:#i feel you - ADORE THIS TRACK i can't even explain what it does to my psyche except that it initiates a beach episode.#noso is a phenomenal queer artist and you should check them out#smoke and mirrors - ms faith back in action on the rotation i loved this album in 2009 and it still hits. for the love of GOD take me back#loving you - i am a paolo nutini stan if nothing else. exceptional#love is all around - i am in my frazzled english woman era hence the romcom soundtrack#and tell me who could possibly embody that frazzled english spirit better than four weddings hugh grant#boys don't cry - it's the cure by name and the cure by nature for one listen and i am FIXED!!!#she's always a woman - now billy joel is a great name for a cat or hamster but i digress. the stranger album of the year 2023 (again i fear)#little bird - was annie lennox in the last one?? i still have this on repeat.#googling the lyrics and it thinks i want the jonas brothers and it makes me want to sit right down and cry cry cry i'll tell you that much#jenny - paolo again can you blame me? i cannot express how much i adore his entire discography.#these scottish italians... deadly combination for my mental health. peter capaldi sit down#white flag - dido save me.. save me dido... my jihope anthem because i WILL go down with this ship#eternal flame - banger after banger it's almost as if i made this playlist myself!! can you feel my heart beating??? i apologise#as for the artist list#norah jones and jamie cullum christmas albums on repeat lord forgive me for i have listened to jazz#hozier and abba seem to make it without fail every month. for those who aren't familiar hozier is like if abba were irish. and bitchless.#NOW I'VE SAID TOO MUCH#the rest of the artists are fab of course but does olivia dean know i would die for her?#anyway. insert closing statements#tag#receiptify#MWAH
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almalvo · 9 months
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How does it feel having possibly the BEST Miguel angst art
haHAA - I dont even know if that's TRUE???
lmao idk what is going on in the deeper coves of spiderverse fandom, specifically in the Nueva region, but our son's misery-ridden miserable ass aint ignored, at least not by me haha
I know he's tortured by not being like the other girls.
So time to make him eat his pain and grow from it.
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vanifou · 5 months
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this soundtrack is SO good man i can’t
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felizusnavidad · 4 months
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no offence but you spent your life making music i thought the songs would never end now it's so quiet all i wanna do is play again with you my friend you fell asleep humming music the sun came up you stayed at rest now here i am all i have left is one request ONE MORE SONG JUST ONE MORE GIVE US AN ENCORE DON'T GO AWAY WE STILL HAVE MUSIC TO PLAY HEY I SAID ONE MORE SONG JUST ONE MORE ALL THAT I LONG FOR GIVE ME A SIGN IT'S NOT TOO LATE IT'S NOT TOO LATE-
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thedeadthree · 2 years
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2, 32, 50 for Marta and Ricardo 🥺
ALYSSAAA BELOVED TY TY DEARIEE 🤍🤍🥺 u know how these two have been ordering luxury room service in my head ajbsak i am totally normal about these two kjasnjasn
ask game relationships edition 🤍
(x.x)
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2. what was their first date like? if they haven’t been on a date yet, how would it go?
marta would say they haven’t been on a first date quite, even though the diner date AND ricardo making her dinner at his home were and they both knew they were dates, she denies it now more likely bc shes IN denial even still that they’re a couple ajsknd (dating means there’s a chance they won’t in the future u know bc she’s a villain and shes afraid to lose him! so its better to keep him at arms length to save her the pain u know?) yet ricardo can name a handful of of times that could be their “first date!” that being two of them of course! there was a outing pre heartbreak that had a date feeling for SURE where he took her to a production of swan lake for her birthday, she talked about seeing it for a year and he surprised her with two tickets! she loved it and he would have enjoyed it too if he wasn’t making heart eyes at marta the whole time asjknax.
32. your character is in love, do they confess? if not, how long do they wait?
marta? confessing? and confessing FIRST? even after the dinner with ortega and that GUT PUNCH of a confession she still couldn’t bring herself to do it in spite that truth being something she’s known since she met him? a confession from her is something nearly 13 years in the making, and 13 years of something she has always wanted to say yet has dreaded for that time. "i love you" to her is a declaration, it’s permanent, its irrefutable, she can’t take it back once she says it. if she breaks his heart he’ll take her feelings with him. if he finds out who she is? a regene? the villain rasputina? the same rasputina who put him in the hospital? the one thing she’s feared? she needs to break his heart to save him, she can’t dare tell him because it means she could lose him. IM GONNA BREAK MY OWN HEART NOW BC THE ONLY WAY I CAN SEE HER CONFESSING IS WHEN SHE REMOVES HER HELMET IN A CONFRONTATION AS RASPUTINA AND REVEALS HERSELF TO HIM... breaking his heart and her own to save him. her last heroic act goes to the only soul she’s ever cared for.
50. is there anything that scares them about their friendship/relationship?
OH GOLLY THERE ARE SO MANY THINGS THAT TERRIFY THEM ESPECIALLY ON MARTAS END kjsdmjkas so I’ll just list a few hehe! first of course being... the truth. revealing herself to be a regene and the fear she’s come to expect and anticipates even from someone she loves so much. the reveal that she is the villain rasputina, the same villain who put him in that awful.. awful hospital bed.. that sight gives her nightmares still. that working with hollow ground at this moment means becoming allies with his arch nemesis. him finding that out? not something she is anticipating to enjoy having a conversation about. and all that coming to a conclusion that the price of her vengeance the price of her retribution could cost him. cost him his loyalty to the rangers, his morality, the people he protects should his feelings for her cloud his judgment. and the one that haunts her the most, the fact that because of her... either by her hand or by those in connection to her, she could lose him. he pushes himself to his limits, it’s a cost he’s willing to pay to protect what he believes in. and it is a quality to him that scares her the most. these plague her nightmares and even her dreams, and because of that she’s kept him at arms length for so long. break his heart to save him by never telling him her feelings, never letting him become closer than she would wish him to be.
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httpsserene · 4 months
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𝖍𝖙𝖙𝖕𝖘𝖘𝖊𝖗𝖊𝖓𝖊’𝖘 1𝖐 𝖘𝖕𝖊𝖈𝖎𝖆𝖑 - 𝖙𝖗𝖆𝖈𝖐 𝖑𝖎𝖒𝖎𝖙𝖘
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𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐥𝐞: 𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐩𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐬𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐫
summary: tonight, innocent and virgin!reader will be defiled, deflowered, tarnished—whichever word you prefer. from the moment she told them she was ready to lose her virginity, they’ve been carefully planning out a special night, for her. and shockingly, there’s not an ounce of fear, anxiety, or doubt in her mind—max and charles have gained her complete trust. they haven’t given her a single reason to believe that they wouldn’t treat her right. she couldn’t have asked for better men to take her virginity—if this is corruption, she’s delighted to experience it. content warning: 18+ only. explicit. safe sex. penetrative vaginal sex. corruption kink. oral sex. cunnilingus. multiple orgasms. fingering. handjobs. praise kink. dom/sub undertones. sweetheart charles leclerc. sweetheart max verstappen. word count: 3.1k words pairing: charles leclerc / max verstappen x fem!black!reader soundtrack: wet dreamz • j.cole
preface: word to my mother, i've gained 400 followers from this series alone and that terrifies me. because it means a 2k special is coming soon, and this was a crazy experience, and me thinks i'm not ready to do it again so soon. thank you for the love on this series, and i might do little snippet pieces for it in the future, but goddamn do i need to sleep for a few days to make up for the sleep i lost getting this done lol. enjoy loves, send me plenty asks about this series and i'll respond when i have the time!
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prev 1k special join taglist feedback & requests table of contents ↻
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your thighs are mottled with bruises and bites, some sensitive enough that you can feel the skin throb. charles–who’s came twice–looks deliciously delirious in between your legs. his green eyes are wide and glassy, solely locked onto your cunt. his parted lips are swollen and flushed red from his generous treatment of your inner thighs. his hands have a tight grip on the tops of your legs, his veins popping at the force of his grip as they keep you spread open enough–your heart stutters as you realize he’ll leave bruises in the shape of his fingerprints and palms on you too. you see the muscles of his shoulders and biceps straining to reach your tantalizing warmth splayed out right in front of his face but, he’s held back with max’s hand firmly keeping his head pulled backwards. 
“charles, give her at least two. you’re welcome to use your fingers.”
max releases his grip, and charles rushes forward to taste the wetness that’s already leaked from your pussy. the monegasque’s moan is muffled against you, but it still manages to be the same volume as the shocked moan that escapes you. eagerly, the younger man drags his tongue through your folds, relishing in the plush pinkness he never wants to leave, and shifts to suckle on the hood of your clit. you cry out, back arching at the focused pleasure–and max sighs. he sees the drool from charles’ overeager perusal leak out of the corner of his mouth; he’s glad he put down the towel you told him to get. sure, max is well aware that you tend to drip like a broken faucet but, charles can tend to get a little…messy, when he’s using his mouth.
charles pulls your first orgasm from using all of his energy dragging his tongue across your labia frantically, pausing either to draw rapid circles against your clit or tease the entrance of your cunt without pushing his tongue in. you shudder forcefully, hands flying down not to pull the monegasque off of you, no, but to keep his mouth on you. it’s not like he needed the help—he wasn’t going to pull off until max tore him away. regardless, he is mindful of your oversensitivity, and slows the assault of his tongues to slow swipes, humming deeply at the gush of wetness that seeps into his mouth.  and when your thighs stop fighting against his hands keeping you spread open, when he feels the tensed muscles go dormant—he pushes his tongue into you, happy your orgasm caused you to relax and allow him to slip in.
and, this is when you lose your mind.
his tongue is dexterous, firm, and unyielding, his plush lips brush against the outside of your cunt and only causes more bolts of pleasure to rocket up your spine. he’s unrelenting–he moves with the overwhelmed bucking of your hips, you’re not sure if you’re trying to move away or move closer, and it doesn’t matter because charles follows you without the solution of his moth slipping away once. he whines highly into your pussy, and the vibration only has you making sounds to mimic him. your tummy undulates, tensing and relaxing with every thrust of his tongue, and he shifts one of his hands away from your thigh to push down on your navel. he changes the angle of his head and his nose bumps against your clit from the force of his jaw working against your entrance.
the combination of the clit stimulation and the pressure on your navel, causes your eyes to roll back with a heaving chest, the orgasm dancing somewhere on the back of your eyes. 
“such a pretty girl,” max adds from where his eyes are stuck on your cunt, and you cum.
the towel underneath you has a wet spot spreading, and charles allows your thighs to shut around his head as your hips push up dragging your pussy on the lower half of his face to ride out the aftershocks of your orgasm. this feels twice as intense as the first, and based on the way you can hear your blood rushing in your ears, and feel your heart beating in the back of your knee, you know you’ll never settle for riding a thigh again.
you attempt to squirm away from his mouth, hips twisting desperately to try and escape the pain-tinted pleasure of charles’ talented tongue, but the man follows every shift of your motions, with his half-lidded eyes giving the expression of him being entranced. it does end up taking max forcing charles away from you when the tears gathered in your waterline spill down your cheeks. and the sharp flare of pain from max tugging at his hair, clears the haze in charles' eyes and the cotton stuffed in his ears.
if his lips were swollen before, you don’t know what to call the state of them now. you screw your eyes shut to avoid looking at the pleased glimmer in his eyes, it only makes a surge of arousal peek out again. 
“schatje, i said you could use your fingers too,” max prods at charles’ shoulder with a pout on his face.
“i,” the man says airly, “didn’t need to. i made her cum twice, like you wanted me to.”
“ah, well, move out of the way, cha,” max hums throatily, “if you didn’t use your fingers, i guess i’ll have to,” your eyes fly open as you look at max in surprise, “do you think she can handle a few more?”
the monegasque pulls back, allowing max to fill the space without arguing, and looks away from him to pierce you with a lustful glance, “she knows what to say if she wants us to stop. let’s find out her limit tonight, maxy.”
they’ve broken you. max and charles said they got you to five orgasms that night, but you don’t really remember anything after the fourth. you vaguely recall charles eating you out while max rubbed at your clit (it was a hot image, there’s no way you’d forget that), but anything over four orgasms you can’t expect to process.
however, the night was such a pleasure even if you can’t remember the last half of it—they’ve absolutely erased your fear of oral. or, sex in general. you say they’ve “broken you,” because they actually have, it feels like your eyes have been peeled open wide from how they’ve indulged you. you thought it was bad enough when you gave yourself a friction burn when you were humping them like a dog in heat, but this is objectively worse.
charles emerges from his gaming room after his stream to refill his water bottle and you drop to your knees in the middle of the kitchen to give him head. max makes a comment about how addicting you taste over dinner and you shove the plates to the side to climb on the table and let him eat you out like a buffet. charles is losing a game of fifa to max, so you gave him a hand and stuffed a hand down max’s pants to give him an advantage (he still lost, so it was just a convenient excuse to get the dutch off). 
most recently, you and the men were laying in bed, letting your breathing slow down and the sweat cool after you let your legs fall open for them wordlessly. 
“it’s clear i trust you both with my entire being, right?”
charles and max pause their quiet chatter and turn to look at you, “oui, “ “of course.”
“ok, well: i want you to take my virginity,” the two gape at your blunt words, “it’s what this has been leading to, and i said on the very first night that i was ready to have sex with you. i trust you guys, and i’m ready.”
max, for all he likes to run his mouth, is silent. charles picks up his slack.
“thank you for trusting us, mon coeur. having your trust to allow you to perform the most intimate and vulnerable actions with you is something we thank you for. give us time, mon amour, we want to make the night special for you, a perfect night that you deserve, yes?”
you smile wide, and nuzzle your face into max’s bare chest who only chokes on his agreement with charles, and respond, “a night that i deserve. i like the way that sounds.”
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the night that you deserve, comes two weeks later, in a week and a half-gap between race weekends. you have mixed feelings about flying air-max, but privacy is something that you can’t beat. they’ve promised you five days in a private villa in mallorca (after a few recommendations, courtesy of carlos), just the three of you. and it’s beautiful, the villa, the land, your boyfriends. 
you questioned why the vacation needed to be five days long, when they only needed a night to have sex with you. charles raised an eyebrow at you, unsure if your question was of a serious nature. max answered, “do you think one night will satisfy us?” your brown-skin lit ablaze, and you didn’t feel the need to answer the question.
the three of you fall straight asleep once you arrive in the villa—and you don’t know why there was a slight twinge of disappointment swirling around your mind. it’s not like you expected your tired boyfriends to fuck you after a greuling weekend; you’d rather them be properly rested and well energized for that activity. and in the morning, you’re woken up by max peppering kisses along your neck and charles tracing unknown patterns across your waist, and a brief smidge of nerves floats across your consciousness before disappearing. the nerves weren’t needed anyways, because when you try and deepen each man’s morning kisses, they slip out of bed and scold you for trying to ruin their plan. while your cheeks flame at the warning, your heart warms at their seriousness—they made a special night just for you. 
they feed you breakfast in bed, coax you into a mid-morning nap, join you for a shower, let you lounge in a hammock while max embarrassed charles in football, they join you in another nap in the shaded cabana, and by the time you wake up it’s settling into the evening, and the boys rouse you into preparing dinner with them.
the evening belongs in one of the rom-com movies max claims to hate but secretly loves. charles is playing romantic french songs quietly through the sound system, max steals bites of ingredients right out of your hands, charles is firmly kept away from any knives and his only job is to shred parmesan for the carbonara you’re putting together, and max pops open a bottle of wine with a date so old you fear to learn its price tag. 
dinner simultaneously crawls and flies by. the anticipation for tonight’s dessert has you nearly vibrating through the chair and you can see the amused smiles on the men’s faces. the minute dishes are set to wash, they lead you to the bedroom.
it’s like the first night all over again.
max sits at the foot of the bed, and charles helps you sit on his lap. the desperation tonight isn’t present; the men are thorough, unrushed, and plentiful in taking their time exploring your body again. max undresses you on his lap, his eyes not falling to look at the length of your body and charles is focused on peeling off his own clothes. the dutch guides you gently to lay on your back, and only with your permission do the two let their eyes wander.
and everywhere they trace with their eyes, they follow with their lips. from your forehead, to your brows, to your temple, to your nose, to your cheeks, to your lips, to your jaw, to your pulse, to your throat, to your collarbone, to your shoulders, to your arms, to your chest, to your ribs, to your wait, to your navel, to your hips, to your thighs, to your calves, to your ankles, and back up to your cunt.
charles has the pleasure of relaxing you with his tongue, while max follows after him with his fingers. when max removes his three fingers, deeming you prepared, the nerves are back. when you hear the crinkle of a condom wrapper, the nerves build. when you hear max hiss at the feeling of charles’ hands rolling the condom on, the nerves amplify–and you panic.
“waitwaitwait,” you rush out, sitting up and pulling your thighs clothes. the men freeze, and quickly reach out to soothe you, murmuring words of reassurance and reminding you they won’t move any further without your consent.
you laugh, embarrassed, “i-i’m nervous…”
charles coos, and sits at your side to pull you into a hug, while max rubs a hand on your waist tenderly.
“liefje, being nervous is normal. i know we’ve talked about how it’s going to feel multiple times, but i understand that’s incredibly difficult from experiencing it. if you want to stop, we won't be mad, answer won’t mind waiting longer,” max says, making sure he holds eye contact with you so you are aware that he’s being honest with you.
you pat and charles so he’ll loosen his grasp on you, and lean back flat on the bed, “will you hold my hand, cha?”
charles bites his lip for a second before he chokes out a “oui,” and locks hands with you. max has to let his eyes shut for a few seconds before he allows them to open again. the innocent lilt to your voice has not lost it’s attractiveness, your inexperience clearly showing and it still sends them both reeling.
max pulls your legs around your waist, and guides the head of his cock against your entrance. he leans down to lock his lips with yours, waiting for you to relax again, and it doesn’t take long. your cunt gives way at a little pressure from max, and the pop of the tip of his dick within you stops your breathing. charles shushes your whine, brushing stray curls out of your face and kissing the back of your hand. your breathing resumes when max presses more within you, and your face tightens and the stretch—it’s not painful in the way you thought it would be, it’s uncomfortable, with a slight twinge of pain you expected, but the fullness makes up for it. 
when max bottoms out, the two of you moan brokenly into each other’s mouths. max sees the uncomfortable look on your face and remains as steady as he possibly can, dropping his head to paint new marks across your neck while you adjust to his size. the two men are probably running their mouths, chattering away their praises at you, and even though you are already too gone to register their words, they turn your brain to syrup and one of max’s “pretty girl”’s you grind your hips forward. 
max hums at the movement, and carefully shifts forward to meet you, his eyes reading your expression carefully. your eyes are glazed over, and they dance loosely around his face before settling on his eyes, and he smiles sweetly, chuckling a little at the embarrassed tint that he knows rests underneath your brown skin. his hips slowly start to turn into a rock, and he brightens at the sighed moans of pleasure you begin to fill the room with. 
charles slides his hand in between your bodies to drag a firm thumb against your nipples, and the two men relish in the sharp squeal you let out–max choking at the even tighter grasp of your pussy. max shifts to rest kneeled between your legs and his next thrust within you at the new angle, has your body trembling against the sheets while a near scream escapes your chest, with toes-curling, and tummy tightening. 
the dutch coos, “oh, that’s the spot—right there—isn’t it, liefje? you’ve been so good for us, pretty girl, yeah? you deserve to feel so good, baby. take it.”
your whines, moans, cries, and whimpers only increase in frequency and volume as max keeps his precise assault on your g spot as his thrusts work up to a faster speed. the sound of your absolutely soaked cunt being speared open by his cock will never leave your mind—the slaps and squelches too enticing. your cunt flutters around max’s cock sporadically, and he turns to charles with a pleased smile, “she’s going to cum already, schatje. it’s a good thing we have a few more days here.”
you whine, taking your free hand and pulling max face back to look at you again, “‘wanna cum! please, maxy—i wanna–”
charles hand that was previously playing with your chest, slips lower and rubs tight and quick circles around your clit, and the surrounding shriek and tightens, has max shaking above you. he hides his face in your neck and his thrusts are movingly quickly now, deep and short movements filled with power that you can hear from the slap of his skin against yours.
your grasp on charles’ hand tightens, and your other reaches mas to dig your nails into his shoulder for purchase, and with staccato breaths, whited-out vision, and drool slipping from the corner of your mouth, you cum—and real pleasure coasts over you in waves. 
max slows the forceful rolls of his hips to slight grinds, pressing deep within you and relishing the way your cunt fluctuates around him, and with pure will he staves off his own orgasm while you come down. he pulls his head away from your neck, and searches your face.
your babbling nonsensically, words mushing together in a murmured fashion, with a blissed-out smile dancing across your lips.
“oh–,” max hums, “you’re so gone, sweet girl. haven’t even fucked you for real, and you’ve forgotten how to act.”
charles tuts, flicking max on the hip, “max. be nice to her—your dick tends to make people lose their train of thought.”
“i think she’s lost a little more than her thoughts, tonight,” max snorts, “i’m going to pull out, and you slide in, yeah?”
when the older man pulls out of you, you claw at his shoulders trying to get him to stay on top of you and back inside of you. none of their words soothe you, and max is very glad he’s an athlete and that he’s turned your limbs to jello with your first orgasm to make you malleable. charles is quick to press his wrapped up cock inside you, and moans deeply at the hot and soaking wet channel. your whines and tears at your previous emptiness cease, and you buck your hips up to have charles deeper in you quicker.
“max~,” charles moans highly, the call of his name slurred and clumsy, “putain–ah–she’s too tight, how did you not come?”
“years of fucking you, charlie,” max laughs, pressing a kiss to the monegasque’s temple, “make her cum pretty boy, and then i’ll fuck you too.”
1k special taglist: @saintslewis @cherry2stems @lorarri@inloveallthetime @mindless-rock @biancathecool@barnestatic @my-ylenia @katekipshidze @darleneslane @lovingaphroditesworld @smoothopz @vetteltea@dreamingofautopia @jayswifee @megatrilss1885 @nanamilkbread @sophia12345678 @benstormy @userlandonorris@xxniallxxsworld @starfusionsworld@hangmandruigandmav @spicybagel14 @itsmiamalfoy @ineedafictionalman @everythingabby101@valent1na-ferrari @dark-night-sky-99@svinzlec @angelfreckless @gg-trini@tallrock35 @angelbunny222 @spideybv28 @iloveyou3000morgan
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© httpsserene2023
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simpjaes · 5 months
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u said hard hours so LET ME DELIVER ☝🏼
cant help but imagine jake being so DOWN BAD for his gf like its so cute but also hes so dam horny all the time ??? movie night w the friendgroup? jake has his fingers in u. sitting in a cramped car on his lap w everyone otw to a party? yea ur cockwarming that mf. u happen to wear the cutest skirt to ever exist in his eyes? ur not making it out the door i fear 💔
the man truly does not give a fuck like why is his dam sex drive so high LET HER RESTTT (but u love it ofc) and dont get me started on the friends theyre so scarred having to hear yalls moans everytime they enter ur shared apt FREE THEMMN 🙏🏼
high sex drive, super horny, very publicly fingering you ! jake?
Ok first and foremost, Jake's roomies are very much scarred but also very much used to the fact that he's constantly in you in some way or another.
Like, they do kinda worry more for you than their own eyes and ears? Then again, most of those moans they have to hear, as if it's a soundtrack to their early morning teeth-brushing or late night lonely cry, are yours.
You're not suffering. They know it. Jake knows it.
that's why, movie nights it's like, kind of expected that you're gonna be letting out sighs during parts of the movie that goes suddenly silent. The issue is, now they just don't know whether they should look or not?
Jay, in particular, struggles not to let his eye stray to that moving hand under the blanket. At this point, why even have a blanket? They all know Jake is knuckle deep, hitting all the right spots for you.
After that halloween party at Sunhoon's house? cramped up in the car with you in his lap because one of the other men got lucky and decided to bring a girl home too, the two of you still stole the show.
That girl, the one Jay brought home, ultimately asked to be let out of the car at a random gas station because it was a bit much for her to be witnessing such a thing. Not Jay though, he definitely noticed, watched, remembered, and kept the memory for the next time a girl ditches him.
It was clear your skirt was pulled up, i mean, it was sitting on your hips?! Jake was clearly thrusting up with every bump the car hit. Cock warming right there? arm to arm with his buddies? You fucking bet.
In all fairness, Jake has a high sex drive, it's not like any of his friends could fix that. If anything, they were thankful you kept him tamed. Kept him safe, even if it was between your legs in front of them.
Oh well.
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Last Night In The Neighborhood☆
《You're my world, you are my night and day. You're my world, you're every prayer I pray..》
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《Warnings: the subject matter this ARG has are potentially disturbing. DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT. Welcome Home was created by Clown @/partycoffin 》
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Moving from your old home is a scary thing, whether you don't care for the danger ahead. Change is different, it's an oddity.
So when you find an old soundtrack album of a kids show from the 70s when you were unpacking. You grow curious.
Noticing a dusty old record player in the farther corner, you try to recall how to even use one. Begrudgingly searching up how to work the machine on your phone. You smile in pride as the vinyl disc starts to swirl about.
Picking up the album cover, you look over the design.
A cast of colorful characters smiles on the cover. Their expressions are forever saved in place, at least eight puppet-looking creatures waved or paid attention to the viewer. Even a little odd house with windows for eyes.
As if they stared right back at you.
Ignoring your uneasiness, you place the item down near the record-player and continued unpacking the little items you brought. That moving truck better be here by tomorrow..
Your feet tap to a few songs, occasionally singing or humming along clumsily with your own made-up lyrics.
When it became nighttime, you were uneasy, the loud noises from outside, and your paranoid self couldn't handle the stress. Grabbing a random record, you place the needle on the disc and throw the covers over yourself. Trying to drown out the world for at least a little peace.
-
Waking up to bright lights and rainbow color schemes surprised you. Your legs moved on their own as they take in the sights and sounds of this weird dream.
Houses and streets greet you, along with music that you swore was playing before you fell asleep.
Coming closer to the source of the music, you were shocked by the characters on the album singing and dancing to the rhythm.
One of them notices you and waves you over to join them.
You smile, this was a dream you could get used too.
Joining in with your messy lyrics and footwork. The puppets greet you with open arms and cheers.
When the song finishes, one of them comes up to you. They smile gently, holding out their hand for a handshake, asking for your name.
You tell them, ask for their own.
Before they could say it, they were interrupted by a pink monster girl.
"My name is Julie! That frowny face over there is my best buddy! Frank Frankly! Oh! And over here is..." She continued as she finally finishes with the blue-haired puppet who was shaking your hand.
Not once letting his eyesight stray away from you. "He's Wally! Wally Darling!" Julie said.
She then whispers into your ear loudly. "He's a painter! He likes to paint pretty things.."
The rainbow monster giggles, nudging you coyly and side-eyeing the other puppet.
He appeared uncaring of his friends' teasing, he only smiles. His attention was solely on you, it made you feel... Special.
He made you feel special.
In the following days, you felt yourself changing, you were happier. Content with your daytime life and nighttime shenanigans with Wally and the rest of the puppets.
Hell, even your clothes were starting to change into a whole new style. The colors and lengths become more in tune with the type of clothes your friends wore in your dreams.
Yes. They were your friends, especially Wally, he had become your closest friend in your polychromatic fantasy.
And you couldn't be more thankful. At least, in the beginning...
The more you slept, the longer you stayed, it felt as if the world where Wally resided wouldn't let you leave. As if it was crying out for you to come back whenever you woke up.
You couldn't handle the newfound drowsiness you found yourself in day in and day out. It started to take a toll on you, to the point where you feared to sleep. Afraid that if you fell back into the fantasy, you may never leave.
《If our love ceases to be. Then it's the end of my world for me..!》
-
[For context! This was based off Last Night In Soho, were a girl dreams about a mysterious girl in the late 60s. I was inspired to write my version of it it with a mix of welcome home! Thank you for reading! Fan art and reblogs are appreciated! Helps with creativeness, also, to my [WElcome To Your New HomE] fans, sorry for not a new update!]
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d10nyx · 2 months
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lacerated to the bone
ft. danny johnson as ghostface x fem!reader
cw: 18+ content, dark content, masked men, stalking, photography, heavy dub-con, knife play, coercion, choking, blood, threats, predator/prey play, fear play, major character death, p in v, creampie
a/n: requested by anon! hope it lives up to the idea you had, bcs i had so much fun writing this one !! title from 'a life less ordinary(need a little help)' by motion city soundtrack
word count: 2.1k words
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“Come on… come on.” You say under your breath as you work at the generator, your heart rabbiting in your chest. You're looking over your shoulder every few seconds, trying to make sure that the killer isn't on your trail. You did your best to save the others from the entity, but you'd failed. You were all alone now. You had to survive.
You can't shake the feeling that he's watching you. There's an eerie silence around you, the only sounds coming from the generator you're working on. The final one. You let out a deep breath as you look away again, but your fingers falter, and the sounds of the generator failing echo throughout the forest.
“No, no, no…” You say quickly, perking up to examine your surroundings, hoping that you hadn't alerted the killer. You curl up behind the generator, waiting for a few moments as you try to listen out for any movement. The minutes that stretch by feel like hours, but there's no sign of him.
You let out a deep breath, standing up before you lean over to work on the generator again. Before you can get started, you feel a finger tap your shoulder. You turn around quickly, coming face to face with a camera. You hear the click of the shutter, and then a bright light flashes that ends up blinding you for a few seconds.
You blink rapidly to clear the spots from your vision, stumbling back. You knew who it was. It could only be one person. You needed to get out of here, and fast. When your vision finally refocuses, you're left face to face with Ghostface. The mask tilts to the side as he cocks his head, his voice husky and slightly crackly from the vocal modulator as he speaks.
“Boo.”
You're running before your brain can even register the movement. You do your best to escape, weaving through dilapidated structures to try and lose him. At every chance you got, you sent wooden palettes tumbling in narrow spaces, keeping a mental note of where you'd cut off the path, hoping to slow him down.
At this point, the chase had become a matter of stamina rather than technique. It was clear the killer wasn't going to let you go, barely letting you out of his sight for more than a few seconds before he was on your tail again. You knew better than to hide, but you were running out of options. Your breathing was becoming laboured, and your legs burned from the chase. You knew you didn't have much of a chance - he was stronger, faster and smarter than you.
It was all down to luck. Your eyes flick over the treeline rapidly - it's a bit far out from the generators and the exit, but it was your best chance of staying concealed. The feeling of being watched irks you once again, causing you to stop and try to find the source.
It's quiet. Too quiet. All you can hear is the sounds of your own breathing. For a moment, you almost feel like you've lost him. That is until you hear a sound that's becoming far too familiar for your liking.
Click!
You turn to try and run again, but a gloved hand wraps around your ankle, yanking you into the underbrush. You cry out as the branches scratch the skin that's exposed as he drags you towards him.
“An image is worth a thousand words, don't you think?” A voice echoes from behind the mask, his free hand shifting to press down on your chest to keep you flat on the ground as he pins your legs down with his knees. With his other hand, he snaps a few pictures of your fearful expression with a beaten down looking film camera.
“Can't wait to get these developed… add them to the collection.” He adds after a moment, placing it down carefully so he can reach for the knife he had tucked in his belt. “I think I like this look on you…”
“Please…” You croak out weakly, your voice wavering as he trails the tip of the blade down your cheek and along your jawbone. “Please, don't.”
“Oh? Already begging for your life?” He coos, patting the flat of the blade against your cheek a few times. He presses the tip of the knife against your cheek, placing just enough pressure to nick the skin. “You're in luck. See, I don't normally play with my designs, but…”
He slides the tip of the knife down your skin, applying pressure when it reaches the hollow of your throat. The mask tilts down, and you can almost sense the sick satisfaction from him as he watches your blood trickle out with every panicked breath you make.
“Well, you're different. I've been watching you for a while. I wanted this to be special; the kind of headlines that people don't forget.” He leans down slightly, and you can feel his gaze boring through you despite the mask obscuring his features.
“Anyway, look at me getting all sidetracked. You poor thing, you keep shaking. I hope that's not on account of me?” He mocks, holding the knife to your throat to keep you from making any attempts to escape. “My apologies. I've always been one for a good story. And you, my dear? I feel you'll be my best one yet. I have a… proposition for you.”
“Please, just stop. I won't say anything… I swear! Just let me go I… I was so close, please!” You sob, raising your hands to try and push him off of you, as if that'd do any good. You wriggle underneath him, ring to give yourself a chance to break free and escape his grasp.
“You see, I'd love to do that. Really, I would. There's just one small issue.” With that, he loosely nods his head towards one of the hooks not far from you. “See, I could let you go, but that wouldn't be in my best interests… now, if you want to make it worth my while…”
He trails off, dropping his head down so his mask is looming directly over your face. He presses the knife down harder, drawing blood as the sharp edge digs into the skin of your throat. “Either you give me what I want, or I'll gut you and offer you up to the Entity. It's simple, really.”
Your stomach sinks at his words. There's no mistaking his intentions. The mask is tilted towards you expectantly as the knife against your throat is replaced by his tight grip. He trails his blade down, hiking your skirt up with the tip of it.
You nod. What other choice did you have? It was this, or die. You couldn't die here. You won't.
“There we go. Good girl.” He says as he removes his grip on your throat to pat your cheek, slipping the knife in between the top of your thigh and the edge of your panties. You tense as he pulls the fabric taut with the blade until it splits. You shiver as the cold metal brushes right above your folds, sliding the fabric out of the way to expose you to his greedy eyes.
You squirm underneath him as he runs the flat of his blade downwards, trying not to jerk your hips as he brushes past your clit, a small whimper falling from your lips. He smacks the blade down a few times, landing spanks against your pussy until sticky strings of arousal connect you to his knife.
“Filthy little thing.” He hums, pulling his knife away to drag a gloved finger between your folds. “Making such a mess. To think, I was planning to wet my knife in a very different way.”
You watch with a mix of arousal and horror as he shucks off the cloak, exposing the black jeans and t-shirt he wore underneath. He keeps that mask on. Seems to enjoy the way you shiver whenever your eyes land on it. He manages to unbuckle his belt one-handed with little struggle, the clink of the metal echoing in the air for a few moments.
He drops the knife down to free his cock and hold it in his right hand. His left hand slides its way up your body, squeezing one of your tits before his hand trails higher, gripping your throat once more. Just to be safe. He smacks his tip against your clit a few times, clearly enjoying the way it has you jolting. Your cunt gushes as he ruts against your sensitive nub, drawing a moan from your lips.
He slides his cock down until the head catches your hole. With a grunt, he pushes forward, filling you to the brim. He throws his head back, his chest rising and falling visibly with his rapid breaths.
“Christ, doll. Didn't think you'd be this wet.” He hisses through gritted teeth. He drops his head forward again, watching your expression carefully through the mask. The tone of his voice sends heat pooling in your lower abdomen, air leaving you in a breathless sigh.
His thrusts are shallow and desperate. He barely pulls out before slamming back in, not wanting to leave the tight heat surrounding him longer than necessary. Each thrust brings a whimper from his lips. Hastily, he reaches a hand out to grab his camera, the one resting on your throat squeezing down just enough to have you gasping in a breath, your cunt clenching tighter around his cock.
“Oh!” He moans, his hand shaking as he snaps a few pictures of his cock sliding in and out of you, the length coated in a layer of clear slick. “God, that's so tight. You like it when I squeeze your throat, huh?”
His voice is hoarse as he speaks, slightly breathless. He tightens his grip on your throat a little more as he speeds up his thrusts, fucking into you with a more brutal pace, his cock bullying your cervix with every movement. Blood rushes to your head as he pounds the air out of you while leaving you unable to suck more air in due to him choking you. You start to get light headed, your vision growing spotty and blurry with unshed tears. As your eyelids begin to flutter, he lets go and you're quickly sucking in deep breaths, your chest heaving.
“Ah, sorry, darling.” He forces out, sounding absolutely wrecked. He drops the camera to hold your hips in both of his hands, pulling you back on his cock with enough force that you're sure you'd be littered in finger shaped bruises. His balls slap against your ass with every heavy movement.
“Oh, can't wait to get these pictures all done. Gonna build a whole shrine for you, dolly. Such a pretty thing.” He reaches down to pinch and tug at your clit before rubbing circles into it with his thumb. He's too rough, and you're already so sensitive. Your body twitches, whines spilling from your lips as you cum, back arching and dragging along the dirt as you clench around his cock.
“W-wait… gotta… gotta get a picture, fuck.” He croaks, flipping you over onto your stomach. He grabs your hair in one fist, yanking your head back painfully as he sinks his cock back into you, making you cry out. He snaps a couple of pictures of him buried deep inside of you, aiming the camera mostly at your fucked out, tear-stained face.
“Fuck… fuck. Coming…” He manages to choke out, the sensation of your walls squeezing him enough to milk his cock. He drops his head down to the crook of your neck, the material of the mask jarring your heated skin. “Shit.”
He drops the camera again, his hand fumbling with something in the thick brush. In the corner of your eye, you see a glint of metal in the moonlight, causing you to flail in panic, scratching at the ground and trying to fight him off.
“You promised!” You yell, trying to scramble out from underneath him as you realise what he’s about to do. “You said you'd let me go! Please… I did what you asked!”
Your eyes widen with fear - wet and panicked as he lifts the knife up, plunging it deep into the side of your neck. Blood bubbles up in your throat, making you cough and splutter as the excruciating pain shocks your core.
“Sorry, doll. Honest. I know I said I'd let you go, but, well…” He yanks the knife out, and your body convulses as you try desperately to suck breath into your failing lungs.
“A good story always needs a twist.”
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tatumrileyslover · 3 months
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You Do It For Her
Capital Don’t Cry (Part Two)
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Summary: Sejanus is tasked with mentoring the District Two female tribute, but plot twist :0 they're childhood besties, but it’s part two (the games era)
Pairing: Sejanus Plinth x Fem!District Two!Reader Platonic!Lucy Gray Baird x Reader
Requested: very
Word count: 4.5k
Warnings: it’s the games so murder and shit, Jessup rabies era :/, Angst baby, reader and Lucy gray are besties, I’m such a Lucy Gray girly so she’s super prevalent in this fic, murder, not a whole lot of Sejanus in this, mostly in readers pov with two small pov changes
a/n: I’m so glad so many of you loved the first part, I’m so happy you’ve all been enjoying it, honestly it makes me so happy (also thanks so much for almost 1k on part one), I’ve had to break it into three parts so I’m sorry for making you all wait longer. Comment if you want to be added to the taglist (I also somehow wrote the second half of the entire fic listening to the Wonka soundtrack and it helped but was very worrying)
Part 1 / Part 3
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The harsh plastic seat seemed to dig into Sejanus, leaving an uncomfortable impression against his restless form. His blazer, adorned with the emblem of the Capitol, clung to him, its material feeling constricting, almost suffocating. Sleep had eluded him since that haunting moment when he last saw (Y/n), and thoughts of her, intertwined with concerns for Marcus, haunted his every waking hour.
In the buzzing atmosphere of the mentor's area, Lucky Flickerman's enthusiastic attempts to coax smiles out of the mentors for the flashing cameras felt more like an intrusion. The relentless flashes of light assaulted Sejanus's sensitive eyes, forcing him to squint against the intrusive brightness. The whole spectacle seemed detached from the somber reality he was living.
As Coriolanus approached and took the seat beside him, a familiar face in the sea of unfamiliarity, Sejanus couldn't help but find a fragment of solace. The camaraderie, however, did little to dispel the heavy cloud of uncertainty and anxiety that hung over him. Each mentor's forced smile, every attempt to portray an air of confidence, serving to convince everyone that they were certain that their tribute was going to win.
And so, as the photographers continued to capture the glossy facade of Capitol mentorship, Sejanus remained caught between the stark plastic of his seat and the weight of his unresolved fears.
Dean Highbottom, with his sly smirk etched on his sunken face, intercepted Coriolanus, halting him in his tracks. Sejanus strained to catch the words exchanged between them, but the cacophony of the producers' urgent shouts about the imminent commencement of the Games drowned out their conversation. Despite the muffled noise, Sejanus couldn't shake the feeling that his name had been part of that brief exchange. His attention snapped back to the screen in front of him, anxiety intensifying as the countdown to the grim spectacle began.
A feed slowly began to channel through, projected onto the screen was the tributes standing in a circle around the rumble of the arena. Weapons glistened in the centre of the cornucopia, the cameras slowly panned across the tributes as they anxiously awaited the countdown to reach its end. The screen was showing a section of the tributes. Lucy Gray stood looking around with intensity, her eyes drifting around the arena. Sejanus could see her desperately shouting at someone by her side. Her voice was extremely muffled. The camera slowly drifted over to her left, (Y/n) was collapsed on the floor, tears flooding her eyes. Her hands were clasped over her mouth, attempting to stifle her screams, while her glazed eyes were fixed on an unseen point beyond the frame. Lucy Gray desperately tried to shake her out of the trance.
As the countdown reached its final digits, the screen transitioned to its final overview of all the tributes. In the distance, something caught Sejanus's eye, sandwiched between two giant flags of the Capitol. A massive pole protruded near the arena walls, and from it hung a vaguely human form. The sun that beamed into the arena shone what looked like a spotlight through the collapsed roof. Sejanus sprung from his seat, squinting his eyes, focusing on the figure that had distracted him completely from the carnage. The alarm blared as Lucy Gray grabbed (Y/n), rushing towards a tunnel where Jessup awaited them. As the camera angle changed, it showed more of the figure. Sejanus felt his heart drop, rage rushing through his body he threw the chair at the viewing screen. He could contain his anger as he shouted infuriated by the needless display of violence.
"You're monsters! All of you!" Sejanus's voice echoed in the room as he glanced around, faces mostly unfazed. Arachne sat with a sly grin, observing his crumbling exterior. The cameras captured the entire scene, revealing the crucified figure, badly beaten and strung up with no way to defend himself—Marcus.
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The deafening ring in her ears competed with the grotesque scene before her as the final cannon fired. (Y/n) forced herself to avert her gaze from Marcus's battered body, only to be met with a horrifying display of brutality. The faces of those she had been forced to live with for a week were now contorted into expressions of ruthless aggression, chasing down anyone unfortunate enough to cross their path. The once-subdued tributes had become brutal beasts, a disturbing metamorphosis fueled by the Capitol's insatiable appetite for bloodsport.
Reeling from the shock, (Y/n) felt a pair of arms encircle her waist, lifting her back onto her feet. Lucy Gray's words were muffled by the persistent ringing in her ears. Shaking off the disorientation, she grasped Lucy Gray's hand, allowing her to guide them toward Jessup, who slumped near the entrance of the tunnels. With urgency, (Y/n) pulled Lucy Gray along, leading her to Jessup's hunched figure. In that moment, she was almost glad the bombs had went off, otherwise she had no idea how to escape the vicious few in the centre of the arena.
Jessup remained almost motionless, his weakened state evident as a consuming fever drained his energy. Glancing back, (Y/n) observed Coral and her group closing in on them, displaying signs of weariness. They most likely seemed like easy targets. Lucy Gray urgently attempted to capture Jessup's attention, guiding him gently toward the safety of the tunnel. Just moments ago, (Y/n) had been paralyzed by shock, saved only by Lucy Gray's presence. As the group closed in on them, panic set in. (Y/n) turned to Lucy Gray, who hadn't made any significant progress in moving Jessup to safety. Throwing his arm over her shoulder, (Y/n) yelled,
"Quickly, help me carry him!" Lucy Gray nodded, mirroring (Y/n)'s actions. Aware of Coral's approaching threat, "They're gaining on us."
The entire sprint through the tunnel was extremely tiring, the adrenaline of being hunted began to fade as the footsteps behind them quietly faded, along with carrying the weight of someone almost twice their size. Jessup was passing in and out of consciousness, and lifting the dead weight of him really slowed the three down. Finding a small passageway inside the tunnel they reached a small space with some water running through it.
"We should rest up here for a while, just while Jessup here come back to," (Y/n) nodded at Lucy Grays statement, helping the half conscious Jessup to the floor, resting his head on her shoulder. (Y/n) tried to scoop some of the water into the palm of her hands and took a sip, it definitely wasn't the cleanest but it would do. Repeating her action she moved over the Lucy Gray,
"Here have some," she softly sipped some out of her hands before urging Jessup to have some. He just pushed her hand away, muttering something. (Y/n) held her now wet hand to his burning forehead. She knew that she couldn't leave him here, but she couldn't see him getting any better. Jessup had been off since they arrived at the zoo, whatever he had come down with, she was afraid it would take him. She knew that Lucy Gray wouldn't dare leave his side, they were in it together, they all were.
She wasn't sure how many hour had passed by since they arrived in their safe place in the tunnel. Jessup had fallen asleep a while back. Both girls agreed someone should stay awake in case of an ambush, (Y/n) agreed to stay up for a while, so Lucy Gray could rest. Everything was silent, occasionally broken up by the soft noise of the trickling water. Jessup was just getting worse, he had broken out in sweat and would thrash around in his sleep. She couldn't tear her eyes away from his form, her heart ached just looking at him. She just hoped he would pass painlessly. A soft yawn broke her gaze, Lucy Gray rubbed her eyes, a soft smile coming across her face.
"Was I out long?" A soft yawn broke (Y/n) out of her intense gaze, Lucy Gray rubbed her eyes, a soft smile coming across her face, "you weren't too lonely with me?"
"Not really, the sound of the water is kind of comforting ya' know," both girls giggled together, "I'm just kidding, Lucy Gray, I don't know what I'd do without you,"
Lucy Gray smiled softly, taking (Y/n)'s hand into her own, squeezing it softly. The room fell silent for a moment, the comfort that Lucy Gray's presence provided helped calm her anxiety by a tenfold.
"Listen Lucy Gray, I just want to say thank you for what you did back there, you didn't need to risk your own life to save me but you did and I'm really grateful for that." Turning to see Lucy Gray already looking at her, she squeezed her hand in reassurance.
"We're allies now, you gave me that healing balm to help Jessup and besides I trust 'ya, that's what friends are for, right?"
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The arena was heavily guarded by peacekeepers, probably Dr. Gauls doing. Ominous red lights lit up the facade, casting a shadow onto the high walls. It was different seeing the building at night, it almost made Sejanus rethink his plan entirely.
He sighed, his hand nestled in his pocket, fingers delicately brushing over the breadcrumbs nestled within. His decision was clear; he had to find a way inside. The rear of the Arena was shrouded in quietness, and under the cloak of night, he stealthily slipped through.
The entire arena was cloaked in darkness, setting his nerves on edge. Each occasional creak or shuffle made him freeze in place, fully aware of the danger that surrounded him. Despite the risks, he knew what he had to do. Perhaps he'd even catch a glimpse of her. As he emerged from one of the numerous corridors leading to the center of the ring, the sheer scale of the wreckage unfolded before him. The broadcast to the Capital paled in comparison to the vastness of the scene, making him feel like an ant in the middle of the arena. Lamina perched atop the structure where Marcus had previously hung, fast asleep. Surveying the arena, all other tributes remained hidden from sight, and Sejanus realized that Lamina might be the one to end his life as he lay beside Marcus.
With caution, he advanced toward Marcus's lifeless form, maintaining a vigilant watch on Lamina and the dark surroundings. Marcus lay sprawled unnaturally on the cold concrete, one arm trapped beneath him, and his left leg bearing the evidence of a mangled impact. Sejanus knelt beside the fallen tribute, his eyes filled with tears he hadn't noticed, gently repositioning Marcus into a more peaceful pose with crossed arms over his chest. A solemn touch closed the lifeless eyes. From his pocket, Sejanus retrieved a small velvet bag, its contents a collection of breadcrumbs—a District Two tradition, giving the departed with the luxury of bread for the arduous journey that lay ahead of them.
He knew it was selfish to want to see (Y/n) one last time, if he called out for her and she came, he was just going to endanger her life. He didn't want that, Sejanus just wished he could kiss her one last time. He lost track of time just staring at Marcus's body. The arena was so peaceful at night, just the faint whistles of wind, lulled Sejanus into a false sense of security. The quiet crunch of gravel behind him made him go stiff, a tribute had spotted him. There was a claustrophobic silence, Sejanus teared up , thinking of his life back in Two, his Ma and (Y/n). His sallow breaths picked up once he heard the footsteps drew closer, screwing his eyes shut tightly.
"Sejanus!"
Quickly turning around to the sound of the harsh voice, deep down he wished it was her but he knew better with its deep inflection. It was Coriolanus.
"Coryo, you can't be here, you'll get killed," Coryo let out a loud scoff at his words, rolling his eyes at him. He moved forward to stand next to Sejanus,
"We'll both be killed with whatever stunt you're pulling, Dr. Gaul sent me in here to get you and if you're not back out with me, she'll kill your family and mine"
Sejanus looked up at Coriolanus from his crouched position, the red lights that were outside shone through the small gaps in the wall. It gave Coriolanus a menacing stature, compelling him to go forward. Coriolanus sighed softly, pulling Sejanus to his feet.
"If your tribute finds you out here dead, based on her reaction before, I highly doubt she'll last." Sejanus looked away, he could feel the guilt eating away at him. He was going to leave (Y/n) fending for herself, if she needed food or water he wouldn't be there to give it. It was selfish of him to leave, he would be condemning her to death. Coriolanus caught his attention again.
"At least do it for her,"
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Jessup's condition worsened by the second, fading in and out of consciousness with alarming speed. Lucy Gray's worried eyes scanned his trembling form, and he seemed plagued by nightmares, soaked in the sweat that clung to Lucy Gray's undershirt. Refusing their attempts to offer water, he shook uncontrollably. Lucy Gray, lips pursed with concern, wiped the dripping sweat from his forehead. (Y/n) sighed heavily, her mind drifting to the time her mother fell ill. She vividly remembered sitting by her mother's bedside, unable to leave her, and the painful decision when her aunt couldn't afford to care for both of them. Ma Plinth, the Plinth family matriarch, had taken her in like a second daughter. Every week, with a basket full of goodies, Ma Plinth would walk (Y/n) across town to her aunt's house, nestled amidst the mountains. Lucy Gray's gaze shifted to (Y/n), and in that moment, they shared unspoken understanding.
"When my ma was very sick, Sejanus's family took me in, his ma used to come with me to visit her." (Y/n) moved softly down on the ground, kneeling next to Lucy Gray and Jessup. She really cared for Jessup and in his state, dehydration was the last thing they needed. "She was in a comatose state, we desperately needed to get her some liquid, so Ma Plinth, the doll, showed me this little trick."
The bottom of her dress, a fragment of a life she once knew, lay in tatters—blackened by dust and despair. She stared down at the remnants, clutching the fabric tightly in her hand as if holding onto the last echoes of her mother's presence. The room, cold and unforgiving, bore witness to her silent turmoil. The decision she was about to make would likely lead to her demise, but in the grand scheme of things, it felt inconsequential. Her mother, wherever she was, would have access to a television to witness her rebellious act. As she mustered the courage, a resounding ripping noise filled the concrete room, prompting a gasp from Lucy Gray, who instinctively grasped her hand to intervene.
"Oh darling, you don't need to do that-" (Y/n) cut her off lifting her hand off.
"But I do, Lucy Gray, I hate to say it but I fear Jessup won't last much longer if we don't do anything, and it's not like she can do anything about it now." She grinned as she finished ripping the final piece of the dress. Submerging it in the small stream of water that was beside them, to clean off the dirt. Squeezing out the excess water, and softly placing it over his mouth, trying to hydrate him in anyway possible. His eyes fluttered slightly, his eyes filled with panic, snatching the wet rag off his mouth and throwing it across the room.
Lucy Gray concerned, moved beside (Y/n). What was wrong with him? He desperately wiped at his lips, trying to dry them of the water before pointing an accusatory finger at both of the girls.
"Are both of you trying t' poison me?"
"Of course not Jessup, we- you're just dehydrated, we're trying t' help you!" Lucy Gray spluttered out a response as Jessup neared the two threateningly. His hands met her chest as he pushed her to the ground. Her hands flew back to try to cushion her fall.
"I know the two of you have something planned." He turned his sights to (Y/n), who had reached down to help Lucy Gray to her feet.
"We got to go Lucy Gray," she whispered quietly as she examined Jessup again. In the corner of his lips a foamy substance began to show. Rabies. Those stupid fucking rats. (Y/n) grasped Lucy Grays hand tightly pulling her quickly out to the tunnel.
"Run!"
The tunnel felt never-ending, her lungs burning with each gasp of breath, and her feet aching as they harshly pushed against the concrete. Hand tightly holding onto Lucy Gray, she wasn't going to let her go, not after everything she had done for her. Pushing harder off the rubble as a small glimmer of light began to shine through. Jessup wasn't far behind them; his thundering footsteps echoed in her ear, he was gaining on them. Stepping out into the arena, the light burned her retinas; they hadn't seen the sun in god knows how long. Quickly scanning the arena, she spotted one of the Capitol flags laying on the ground, blood pooled out from underneath it. Panicked, she quickly dragged Lucy Gray across the arena.
Some of the stands had crumbled, leaving piles of rubble stacked upon them. If she could somehow lift Lucy Gray onto them, she could make her way over to the private boxes; she could climb up to safety. If (Y/n) could help her up before Jessup got to them, she could scale her way up. They would be safe in the box. (Y/n) had no doubt that Jessup was strong, but she doubted he could rock climb up to them. District Twelve was known for their coal mining, and she doubted he could climb up a wall. Not that District Two was either, but the countless hours she spent with Sejanus out in the mountains helped a lot.
As she lifted Lucy Gray up to grasp the railing of the stands, she glanced back at Jessup as he stalked behind her, he didn't look like himself. His complexion had turned grey, the sweat on his skin glowed as the sunlight beamed in through the arena, foam dripping down his chin. She forced herself to look away as Lucy Gray pulled herself into the stands, reaching her hands over the railing to pull (Y/n) up.
She dragged Lucy Gray to the back of the stands near the box, it sat high up on the wall but the large mound of rubble that lay beside it seemed scaleable, at least for (Y/n). Lucy Gray backed up against the wall, desperately searching around the stands for a way to escape Jessup, as he made his way up to them.
"There's nowhere to go, (Y/n)!" She clutched desperately at her hands, the skin of her hands were rough, she flinched slightly from the friction against the cuts on her palms.
"Listen, I'm going to give you a boost up this piece of concrete and just climb into that box above us, ok?" (Y/n) cupped her cheeks, her eyes filled with tears as she nodded softly, glancing back at Jessup who now stood menacingly at the bottom of the stands. Her eyes glanced back into (Y/n), as her tears fell down her face.
"What about you?" Lucy Gray's hand moved to cover the hand on her cheek, "it's too high for me to help you up!"
"I'll find a way up to you, darling," (Y/n) softly wiped her tears away, Lucy Gray pulled her into her embrace, just in case.
"Please come back to me."
"I will. Now quickly, he's on his way!" Lucy Gray lifted her foot into (Y/n)'s intertwined hands, placing her hands on her shoulder for balance, she nodded as (Y/n) boosted her up. She grasped the edge, pulling herself up onto its jagged surface. (Y/n) watched as she made her way into the box to her left. Jessup had reached the top of the stands, he stood opposite her. He looked like the capitals perfect victim, forced to play this demented game, transformed by the games into a paranoid, disease-ridden killer.
Turning around quickly to work on climbing up the concrete, fingertips grasping onto small ridges that were created by the collapse. Jessup realised what she was doing, she could hear him running towards her. She made quick work climbing up the block, her fingers were screaming in pain as she gripped the ridges trying to pull up her body weight. One hand reached the up towards the top edge of the concrete, her fingertips grazed the edge. The second (Y/n) got a proper grip on the ledge, she felt a hand grip around her ankle. She tried to shake her ankle from his grasp but he was too strong, he was unwilling to let her go.
One harsh tug sent her tumbling to the ground, hitting her head on a seat as she went down. He picked her up and threw her towards the edge of the stands. She struggled to raise her head, the blow she got to her head made her feel weak, maybe, just maybe this was her time. She’d done good deed by helping Lucy Gray escape him. She just hoped Sejanus wasn’t watching, she didn’t want him to see her go this way. Her eyes fluttered open. Jessup walked menacingly towards her, tears welled up in her eyes, this wasn’t him. Slowly she stood up, her balance was uneven, the ache in her head clouding her vision, but her eyes remained unwavering on Jessup. A soft thud averted her eyes, Lucy Gray had dropped down to try help her.
“No,” (Y/n) whispered softly, she shook her head to try to get her to stop whatever she had planned. Her eyes returned to Jessup who seemed to be looking at something in the distance. There was a faint whirring sound behind her, she turned her head slowly as to not alarm Jessup, her eyes didn’t leave him until he left her peripheral. By that time the whirring grew closer, (Y/n) got a quick glance of what looked to be a drone carrying something. It flew straight past her shoulder and crashed into the wall behind them. Water exploded across the stands. All three of them stood frozen, staring at the dark stain the water created on the concrete.
Lucy Grays head turned back to face the two, but her eyes were looking passed them, her eyes grew wide. More whirring noise came from behind them, it was louder than the first. Maybe it was Sejanus trying to help her out? She began to turn her head towards the sound, when she heard Lucy Gray cry out.
“DUCK!”
(Y/n) fell to the ground, they were a lot closer than she thought. Jessup was still facing the wall in shock. The drone crashed into the stand beside him, sending the water all over him. He started shaking uncontrollably, his eyes wide with terror as the water drenched him. The realization hit him that the very thing he feared the most was now inescapable, and he screamed, his voice a mix of fear and desperation echoing through the arena. (Y/n), paralysed by the unfolding scene, could only watch helplessly as Jessup's irrational fear became a harsh reality.
Most of the drones veered toward the wall, near where Lucy Gray had crouched behind some seats. A few strays hit Jessup as he attempted to flee, reaching the edge of the stands to clamber down. But the drones were quicker.
As (Y/n) lay on the floor with her eyes tightly scrunched, she heard a loud crash and a thud. Opening her eyes quickly, she saw Lucy Gray standing from behind the seats, a hand covering her mouth with tears falling. (Y/n) shakily got to her feet before slowly turning and glancing over the edge. She gasped – he had fallen from quite a height, but that wasn't what killed him. A blade from the drone had impaled his stomach, and blood pooled around him. She had to look away from him.
(Y/n) felt a soft pair of arms wrap around her waist; it was Lucy Gray. She buried her head into the crook of (Y/n)'s neck, and (Y/n) could feel the tears wetting her skin. Turning around, she embraced Lucy Gray tightly, offering any semblance of comfort she could provide. Lucy Gray sobbed harder into her chest, and (Y/n) couldn't help but let a few tears fall as well. She might not have known Jessup as well as Lucy Gray, but he had protected them with his life, even if it was unintentional.
“Thank you,” Lucy Gray whispered softly, they had made their way back to the box, it was safe for now. (Y/n) held her tightly to her, she was so still she had assumed she had fallen asleep. (Y/n) turned to her softly stroking her hair, confusion filed her face. “For what?”
“For keeping your promise.” Lucy Gray intertwined their fingers giving her a small smile.
“I’d do anything for you Lucy Gray, I mean it.” She squeeze her hand tighter at her words. “Now, you go get some rest, you deserve it.”
Lucy Gray rested her head on her shoulder, slowly falling into slumber in the safety of (Y/n)’s arms.
(Y/n) cared deeply for Lucy Gray, as if she were her sister. She proved that tenfold when she sacrificed herself to help Lucy Gray up to the box. She didn’t deserve to be here, but then again, none of them did. She knew if it was Sejanus in her place, he would had done the same.
Her mind began to wonder back to the drones, some part of her wished that Sejanus was the one to send them, that he was watching and wanted to protect her. But she knew better than that. The drones didn’t start coming until Lucy Gray stepped away from safety, until she jumped down the concrete block, until she was standing behind Jessup. Coriolanus was a passionate mentor, she could tell the moment she laid eyes on him. He stunk of desperation. He wanted to win, so he saved both their lives to save hers. Selfishly she wished Sejanus was watching, that he was sending her gifts. But she knew that seeing Marcus in that state most likely made him quit so he wouldn’t have to see her die the same way. Her eyes welled up, all she wanted to do was embrace him, seek comfort in his arms that she hadn’t gotten since she was in District Two.
She wanted him to do it for her
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hearts-hunger · 6 months
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Read on AO3 | Masterlist
Summary: You don't like haunted houses. When you get scared by a big huge werewolf, you find you like the man behind the mask.
Pairings: Danny x Reader | Genre: halloween fluff, hurt/comfort | Word Count: 7k (yikes) | Warnings: smoking, anxiety, general Halloween spookyness
A/N: This is my fic for the GVF Fic Writer's Halloween Event! I used the prompt “carnival haunted house”. I hope you like it! ♡
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“Come on, it’s not gonna be that bad! You’re being such a baby.”
You crossed your arms over your chest, half defensive and half warding off the chill of the autumn night. You couldn’t exactly argue with your friend; you were kind of being a baby about the haunted house she’d dragged you to with her boyfriend and a bunch of his Greek life pals. Still, she knew you weren’t particularly adventurous, and you figured she should have known you would be wary of doing something like this.
“I’ve never been to a haunted house,” you protested. “And the reviews said it's supposed to be the scariest one in the state.”
“Well, yeah,” she said with a roll of her eyes. “Why would we go to some lame ass haunted house? We’re here to get scared.”
You have a doubtful hum as you looked over the front of the house. They’d certainly done the place up — the actors that milled around in the sharp lighting set the scene, and the house was realistically run-down and looked on the verge of structural collapse. The screams punctuating the soundtrack of ghoulish music that came from inside didn’t do it any favors, either.
“It’ll be fun,” she insisted. “You always do this. Frat parties, horror movie marathons, literally any hookup I try to get you... You always chicken out at the last second.”
You winced at a particularly shrill shriek that came through the boarded-up window. “Yeah.” You found yourself wishing you’d decided to stay home with a good book and a hot toddy.
“Just stick with Ben,” she said, gesturing to the one single guy in your group. “Who knows? You might even get some action later — if you're not too scared, that is.”
You gave her a dry smile. “That idea is even scarier than the haunted house.”
She scoffed. “Your standards are too high. Ben’s nice. And he's hot.”
You had to admit she was right about him being hot. But as for him being nice, well, you’d heard the rumors, and you didn't want to find out if they were true.
“Can’t I just stick with you?” you asked. You took her hand. “Come on, Ash. Girl’s trip through the haunted house.”
She untangled herself from you. “No way. I’m with Jackson.”
Before you could try and convince her not to leave you alone in a haunted house, the undead ticket taker ushered you to the door with a chilling moan. You felt a flare of anxiety as you came into the dark foyer and took a seat with your group in front of a hooded fortune teller.
“Welcome, my dearies,” she said in a cackling voice. “I’ve seen your fortune in my crystal ball, and I see many winding paths and dark shadows in your future. Some of you may not even make it out alive.”
The ouija board on the wall moved by itself, spelling out “doom”. You tried to relax; maybe this wouldn’t be so bad. Maybe it would even be fun.
Suddenly, a box beside the fortune teller popped open with a shriek and revealed a leering skeleton. You jumped and couldn't help a little cry of fear.
“Here we go,” Ashley said derisively. 
You frowned at her. “I thought the whole point was to get scared.”
“Yeah, from shit that's actually scary.”
You didn't have time to reply, moved along from your seat to a dark, winding hallway by a frantic actor in grisly makeup. You got shouldered to the back of the pack, behind Ashley and Jackson, and tried to keep your cool. 
“Oh, this is gonna be good,” Ashley said, a tone of delight in her slightly hushed voice. Screams and creepy laughter echoed from farther off, and you all cautiously made your way down the dark hallway.
The hallway was narrow, and your group was moving slowly in suspense; a ghoul jumped from the hole in the wall you hadn’t noticed and howled at you. 
You bit out a curse and grabbed the back of Ashley's sweater, deciding right then that you didn’t like this at all.
“Get off,” she said, pushing your hand away. “Find somebody else to hold onto if you have to, geez.”
Stung, you withdrew your hand and hugged your middle. The frenzied atmosphere had your anxiety on high alert, and you jumped at every little thing, adding your frightened voice to the cacophony of shrieks and screams and rattling cages that lined the walls.
You made it through the house by sheer willpower alone, growing more and more agitated as actors jumped out at you, skeletons fell from the ceiling to dangle in front of you, and strobe lights disoriented every scene. When you finally made it through, you tried to catch your breath, and then remembered with horror that there was a haunted walk in the woods to get through next.
“Ashely,” you pleaded. “I really don’t like this. Is there any way — ?”
“Don’t ruin it,” she said waspishly, obviously annoyed and being pulled forward by her boyfriend. 
You felt close to tears. You weren’t trying to ruin it, and you were embarrassed that you couldn’t keep it together and hurt by her callousness. 
Unable to do anything else, you kept moving forward through the cemetery scene and shied away in fear from every ghost and mangled undead creature that leapt from behind the headstones. Your breathing was rapid, and you started to feel lightheaded as you tried to keep up with your group.
A few moments of quiet followed when you made it out of the cemetery, and you foolishly let your guard down. Then, without warning, an actor jumped from the woods into the path, screaming to beat the devil, right between you and the rest of your group. 
You froze, unable to see past the gruesome makeup and the awful screaming. When you finally found use of your legs again, you hurried past him and rounded a corner only to be scared by another actor in a horrible mask.
You were at your wit's end. You fled, stumbling down the dark wooded path, and found the trail completely empty. You looked frantically for your group; they must have left you behind, hurrying on to the next array of terrifying scenes. Your hands shook as you found yourself completely alone in the pitch-black woods, waiting in terrible suspense for the next thing to jump out at you.
You quickly came up on a dense patch of forest, skeletal branches tearing at your hair and your sweater. There was a figure ahead, a shadowed and huge werewolf, and you thought it was a statue; you had just passed it when it moved. 
You screamed as it ran into the path from behind you and came right up beside you.
“Wait! Stop!” you pleaded, unable to stop the tears from finally overflowing. You cowered and begged the actor to leave you alone. He reached a clawed hand out towards you and said something in a distorted voice, and you shrank back as he moved closer.
“Please,” you sobbed, beside yourself. You couldn't take any more; your heart was fairly beating out of your chest, and you couldn’t stop crying.
The actor swept off his werewolf mask, revealing a concerned expression and a bounty of curly black hair. He kept his distance from you but still had one hand outstretched. 
“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” he said in a surprisingly gentle voice. “I didn’t mean to scare you more after you said to stop — I should have taken my mask off sooner. I’m sorry.”
You inhaled in a choppy breath, still reeling from the overwhelming fear and now faced with the biggest, gentlest looking guy you’d ever seen.
“I’m not gonna hurt you,” he said, calm and kind. “And I won’t scare you any more.”
Your breath caught on a pitiful sob. “Do you promise?”
His expression was gentle. “Yes, I promise. My name’s Danny. I’m just an actor.”
You tried to collect yourself, working to steady your breathing and stop crying, watching as he looked around the woods. 
“Where’s your group?” he asked. “They’re not supposed to let people go alone.”
“They l-left me,” you managed. 
He frowned. “They left you?” He gave a disapproving hum. “Some friends they are.”
You didn’t say anything to that, figuring your emotional state was enough of an agreement.
“I’m just trying to get through this so I can go home,” you said miserably. “I’m sorry.”
“You don’t have to apologize,” he said kindly. “Is it your first time?”
You nodded, running your sleeve over your face to try and repair yourself. “My friends made me come.”
He sighed.
“Well, I can’t make your friends not be dicks to you,” he said apologetically. “But I can get you out without having to go through the rest of it.”
You looked up at him, so relieved you were almost dizzy with it. “Really?”
“Of course.” He extended his hand to the woods he’d come from. “Right this way.”
Despite his kindness to you, you still felt wary. He noticed and softened his posture towards you.
“I promise there’s nothing scary,” he said, and you knew he was being sincere. “It’s the way I get out, kind of like a backstage shortcut. I’ll take you right back to the front where you can wait on your group.”
You gave a shaky sigh of relief. “Thank you.”
You followed him off the main path onto another that cut through the woods, finally settling after a few minutes, the cold air stinging your warm face. Though you still heard the shrieks of people passing by, you felt more at ease walking beside Danny. He held his mask under one arm and trudged a little awkwardly through the brush in his big suit, making sure to stick by your side.
“I’m not going to get you in trouble, am I?” you asked, looking up at him. He was still a little imposing even without the mask, tall and broad, but you weren't afraid of him.
“No, you’re alright,” he assured you. “We can take people out if they use the safeword.”
You hadn’t even known there was a safeword, and figured that would have been a nice piece of information for Ashley to share with you.
“What is the safeword?” you asked. “In case I ever decide to come back in a fit of insanity.”
He chuckled, and the sound was warm.
“It’s ‘kitkat’,” he said. “Like the candy. Any time we hear it, we stop whatever scene we’re in and make sure that person gets out safely.”
“That’s nice of you,” you said. You had to step twice for each one of his long strides, and you were glad you had him with you as the sounds of the maze still rang out in the darkness.
He shrugged. “The owners are good people, and they want to make sure it's a safe and fun experience for everyone.”
You tried to listen to what he said, but you saw something coming towards your path; though you knew it was probably just another actor coming off set, you remembered one of them walking alongside you in the trees and jumping out at you.
“It’s okay,” Danny said gently. “They’re not going to scare you. I promise.”
The actor came into the path a few paces ahead of you and gave Danny a friendly wave in his undead getup. Danny tried to lift his hand to wave back, and both of you realized that you were holding on to his arm through the suit.
“Oh, sorry,” you said, blushing hot and quickly withdrawing your hand.
His smile was patient and unconcerned. “No worries.”
Sooner than you expected, you came up to the fence and saw a cheery bonfire and a few outbuildings just beyond.
He held the gate open for you. “Well, here we are,” he said amiably. “This is the staff entrance, but if you go around that building, you'll come around to the main ticketing booth. You shouldn't have any trouble, but if someone asks, tell them you safeworded out and Danny sent you back.”
You stopped halfway through the gate. “Thank you for your help, Danny. I'm sorry to have been a bother.”
He shook his head and gave you a friendly smile. 
“You weren’t a bother,” he said. “I’m glad I could help, and I’m sorry you didn’t have such a great time.”
Your returning smile was a little wobbly. “Well... have a good night. I hope you scare lots of people.”
He laughed. “Thanks. You have a good night too.”
He turned to go back to his shadowy wooded post, and you wended your way through the staff section, passing a few actors in various states of costuming. A security guard directed you towards the main entrance, and you found a spot to sit and wait for your group. 
Long minutes passed. You texted Ashley and told her where you were, but you didn't get a response; you wondered if they'd chosen to do the extra zombie maze and haunted hayride without you. You were cold, and you wished you had your own car so you wouldn’t have to wait for a ride.
“Hey, kitkat.”
You looked up at the familiar voice and saw Danny waving to you from the fence that bordered the staff area. You walked over and felt a sort of shy warmth at his smile.
“Hi,” you said. “Were you worried I might have died of fright?”
He chuckled. “A little. I just wanted to check and see if your friends had come back yet. They’re still not here?”
“I texted them, but I guess they must have gone ahead and done the extra stuff.” You huddled further into your sweater. “It’s really kind of you to interrupt your work to check on me.”
He looked a little bashful. “Well, I just wanted to make sure you were okay. I’m actually done for the night; somebody else is being the werewolf for the last shift.”
“Ah, I see,” you said. “Passing on the torch of terror.”
He smiled. “Something like that.”
A breeze rustled through the trees, and you shivered. 
“Are you cold?” he asked.
“A little,” you admitted.
He gestured over his shoulder. “You’re welcome to come sit by the bonfire while you wait. A few of us are hanging out for a while.”
“Are you sure?” you asked, thinking it was a very sweet offer. 
“Yeah,” he said. “As long as you’re okay with seeing people with their makeup and costumes still on.”
“But they’re not, uh... working, right?”
He smiled. “Nope. We don’t scare off the clock, I promise.”
“Okay, then. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” He opened the gate for you and led you to the bonfire, and the two guys already sitting there in matching skull makeup and tattered costumes looked up at you in uncanny synchronicity.
“I thought you said you don’t scare off the clock,” you whispered to Danny.
He laughed, but it wasn’t unkind. “They’re just like that. It’s a twin thing, I guess.” He offered you a seat on a log bench by the fire. “Guys, this is...” 
Danny looked at you. “Shoot. I don't even know your name.”
You smiled and introduced yourself to the twins. They lost some of their spookiness as they introduced themselves as Josh and Jake.
“So you're Danny’s kitkat,” Josh said with a winsome smile. “Nice to meet you.”
You smiled back, a little sheepish. “Thank you. You both look... terrifying.”
Jake mimed a gallant bow. “Why thank you. We certainly try.”
Danny touched an unobtrusive hand to your shoulder.
“I’m just gonna get out of this suit,” he said. “I’ll be right back.”
You nodded. “Okay. I’ll be here.”
He turned to go, but before he’d made it two steps, he turned back towards you.
“Do you like apple cider?” he asked.
You were a little bemused at the question. “Yeah. I love it.”
He smiled. “Okay. Sit tight.”
You watched him go, endeared to his thoughtfulness and the warm ease of his smile. You had the somewhat silly thought that it suited him to play what was essentially, in the light of day, a big shaggy dog.
“So, kitkat,” Jake said, and you guessed the playfully teasing nickname had stuck. “How did you like our little haunted patch of heaven?”
You gave a wry smile. “How many people that burst into tears and get escorted out seem to like it?”
He laughed, and it was an amusing contrast to his makeup. 
“Well, I guess you’re right,” he said. “But some people who leave early just didn’t know what to expect, and they come back again when they're more prepared. Some people flat don’t like this kind of thing.”
“I think I'm probably the second kind,” you admitted. “My friends brought me, and I knew I wasn't going to like it.”
Josh lit a cigarette and held it between his long fingers painted to look like bones. 
“You’re not with your friends now, though,” he observed. “Do they know you’re here?”
You shrugged. “I texted them, but they’d already left me behind by the time I got to Danny. I don't know when they’re going to be done.”
“They left you behind?” Jake asked, indignant. “I mean, no offense to your friends, but that’s kind of a dick move.”
“No, you’re right,” you agreed. “Danny was very kind to help me even though I was hysterical when he jumped out at me.”
Both twins lifted their gaze to something behind you, and Josh grinned. 
“Aw, Dan, you hear that?” he said. “You’re a very kind werewolf.”
You looked over to see Danny wearing a somewhat bashful smile and holding a mug wreathed with steam, a jacket draped over his arm.
“Just doing my job,” he said modestly. He sat beside you and handed you the mug, then put his huge jacket over your shoulders. “Here. This’ll get you warmed up.”
You took the mug gratefully and warmed your hands on the sides of it, breathing in the tart fragrance of apple cider as steam rose from the drink. His jacket, though you were practically swimming in it, was warm and smelled like sweet, spicy cologne. “Thank you, Danny.”
He smiled. “You’re very welcome.”
He stretched his long legs out towards the fire, and you admired how he looked in snug jeans and a rust-colored sweater. He wasn’t scary at all out of the suit, and you were curious as to how much his friends would change once they were out of their makeup.
“What part do you two work?” you asked the twins. “I don’t remember seeing you in the house, but then again, I was kind of trying not to see anything.”
They smiled, curving the black-and-white skeleton grins into something gentler.
“We’re past Danny a little ways,” Jake said. “There’s a section of the woods between Jason’s chainsaw attack and Elm Street, and we do a whole routine of following people and then screaming at the top of our lungs when we get close to them.”
“Josh is very good at it,” Danny said. “He’s got the pipes for it.”
You smiled despite the lingering unease of imagining being caught in their scene. “I’m glad I didn't make it to your section, then.”
They laughed.
“You should have seen Jake when he was the undead pirate in the swamp scene,” Josh said. “He’d sit completely still in the chair in the corner and then jump up and chase people out through the alligator swamp.” He looked to his brother. “What was that, two seasons ago? That was a big hit that year.”
“Have you played a lot of different parts?” you asked.
All three of them agreed.
“They move you around all the time,” Danny said. “It’s fun getting to play different characters and wear different costumes. Josh played this little dude with a pumpkin head that didn’t look scary at first, but it freaked people out when he stood as they passed by and just turned his head to watch them.”
“Oh, yeah, I remember that one,” Josh said, fondly reminiscing on scaring the bejeezus out of people. “Weren't you Michael Meyers when I was doing that?”
Danny laughed. “Yeah, because I was the only one tall enough that year.”
“What was Sam doing then?” Jake asked.
Josh shook his head. “He was a zombie, I think. Maybe.” He looked to you. “Sam is our younger brother. He works here too.”
“He should be getting off any minute,” Danny said, glancing at his watch. He looked towards the woods. “There he is now, actually.”
You looked over too, and you gasped as you saw a huge four-legged stilt creature with mossy horns atop a deer skull head. 
“That’s just Sam,” Danny said quickly, wanting to reassure you.
You smiled in delight. “It's okay. I’m not afraid of that. I think it’s wonderful.”
A few coworkers near the fence helped Sam get out of his costume and off the stilts, and he shook his hair out of his face as he came over to your bonfire.
“Howdy, boys,” he said. He caught sight of you and gave you a curious smile.
“I didn’t know we were inviting lady friends to hang out,” he said. 
The twins laughed, and Danny’s smile was a little embarrassed.
“Danny just helped me get out of the woods,” you told him with a smile. “And your brothers have been nice enough to share your bonfire while I wait for my group.”
“Ah, a kitkat, huh?” Sam asked. “Sorry if I scared you coming out in all my regalia.”
“She said you were wonderful,” Jake teased. “Not scary at all.”
He smiled. “Well, I’m glad you liked it. It’s a bitch to get in and out of, but I think it looks cool.”
He sat catty-corner to the twins and sighed deeply as he stretched. “Cigarette.”
Josh pulled one out of his pack for him and tossed him a lighter. “So polite, Sammy.”
Sam smiled as he lit his smoke. “You know what some girl said to me? She said she wanted to take me home as a pet.”
Danny grinned. “As, like, a sexy pet? Or just a huge, weird dog?”
“Huge weird dog,” he agreed. “Though you’ve probably got me beat on that one.”
“Nah, Danny gets all the lonely Halloween housewives,” Jake said. “They like him all... wolfy.”
You looked over at Danny. “Do they really?” you asked, amused. 
You didn’t know for sure in the warm light of the fire, but you thought he might have blushed.
“Sometimes,” he admitted. “They probably wouldn't feel the same if they saw me out of the suit, though.”
You thought that couldn't be true. If he hadn’t scared you, you might have been... intrigued by the werewolf costume. Certainly you were intrigued now that he was out of it.
You talked for a long time around the fire, learning some of their different parts they’d played, getting funny stories of their best scares, finding out some of the behind the scenes secrets that made it less frightening and more interesting to you.
“How long have you worked here?” you asked.
“This is our fourth year,” Sam said. “It’s just a seasonal thing — our real job is playing music, but, you know, gotta pay the bills before we land Madison Square Garden.”
You drew Danny's jacket closer around you, thankful for its warmth. He had moved closer, or maybe you had moved, so the two of you were shoulder to shoulder. 
“What kind of music do you play?” you asked.
“Rock n roll,” Josh said proudly. “Jake’s on guitar, Sam's on bass, and Danny's on drums.”
“Does that make you the mercurial lead singer?” you teased. 
He grinned. “I do what I can.”
You thought of Danny playing drums and felt something close to butterflies at the thought. 
“We’re doing local gigs, mostly,” Jake said. “We’re hoping to get a recording contract soon, but for now, we’re starving artists splitting rent and scaring people in the side.”
You smiled. “You should do a Halloween-themed concert here,” you said. “All decked out in makeup and costumes. I would come.”
“That’s actually a fantastic idea,” Josh said. “Hey, Dan, you picked a good one.”
You were a little embarrassed but mostly pleased at his lighthearted teasing, and you thought Danny felt the same. As the brothers started discussing what their spooky concert could entail, Danny checked a message on his phone.
“Brian lost his fake arm,” Danny said to the group. “Some moron thought it would be funny if he grabbed it and ran off with it.”
“Super,” Jake said dryly. “I assume the security guys are escorting the arm thief off property?”
Danny stood and pocketed his phone. “I reckon. But he asked me if I’d bring him a spare arm.”
 He looked down at you with a hopeful expression. “You want to come along?”
“On a zombie arm delivery through the quarantine zone?”
He smiled. “Yeah. Through the backstage, so no scary stuff.”
He held his hand out to you, and you took it.
“I might cry again,” you warned. “You never know.”
He squeezed your hand. “I won't let anything get you, kitkat. You stick with me and you’ll be just fine.”
You were happy to comply, enjoying the feeling of your hand in his as he led you to the prop storage building. He had to let go of your hand to sift through the array of knives, chainsaws, and tombstones, and you followed him through the winding aisles of shelves stacked high with all manner of fake blood and gruesome pumpkin heads.
You skirted a group of seven foot tall skeletons looming in the light of the bare lightbulbs overhead. “You guys have a lot of stuff.”
“This isn't even half of it,” he said, looking for a particular shelf. He rounded a corner and you followed, coming face to face with a leering clown mask that made you draw a sharp breath.
“You okay?” he asked, looking over his shoulder.
“Yeah,” you said, a little embarrassed that you’d been frightened of a completely motionless mask. You moved close again and concentrated on him instead of the ghoulish props. “This stuff doesn’t freak you out? Even just a little?”
He shrugged, but he wore a tell-tale smile. “Not really. I’m used to it by now.” He found the shelf he was looking for. “Aha! Here we go.”
He pulled a grisly arm in a ripped sleeve from the collection and held it up. “High five.”
You slapped your palm against it. “Is that all we need?”
“Yep,” he agreed. “We’re all set.”
He took your hand again and led you back outside, walking along the fence until you reached a different entrance to the woods. You pressed closer when you started down the path, and he smiled down at you in the dim light of the half-moon.
“You’re okay, kitkat,” he said sweetly. “Remember what I said?”
“You’re not going to let anything get me?”
“Right. I gotcha, don’t worry.”
The woods were almost pleasant without the frantic haunts and jumpscares, and you noticed the lush sounds that filtered through the sound effects and various shrieks and screams that drifted through the darkness. 
A trilling, haunting bird call caught your attention. “Is that part of the ambience?”
“A natural one,” he said. “That’s an eastern screech owl. They sing all the time out here.”
He pulled you to a stop. “We might be able to see this one. Hold on.”
His hand was warm in yours, big and callused, and you watched his face as he studied the trees. He was handsome, there was no denying it; his curls were brushed by the breeze, and you couldn't help but do the same when you saw the excited curve of his smile.
“There it is,” he said quietly, pointing to a tree a few paces ahead. “See it?”
You looked where he directed, and after a moment of searching, you saw a small brown owl perched on a branch. It called again, a waterfall of notes, and you watched the feathers on its head stand up like little horns.
“Spooky,” you said.
He smiled. “Isn't it pretty?”
“It’s beautiful,” you agreed. He squeezed your hand, pleased you’d liked it.
“Let’s go deliver this arm,” he said. “Shall we?”
“Lead on, good sir.”
You reached the quarantine zone section of the maze, and you started to feel uneasy again as the screams of happily frightened patrons and dedicated actors got louder. Danny shouldered a side door open and took you inside, winding through the narrow walls with an ease born of practice.
You came up to a little room open to the backstage side with a barred window of the opposite wall. A guy in all his zombie finery cracked a smile that was slightly marred by his macabre makeup.
“Brought me a snack, huh?” he joked.
“Just an arm,” Danny said, handing it over. “Sorry yours got snatched.”
He rolled his eyes. “It was a bunch of frat guys. Idiots.”
You wondered grimly if it was one of Ashley and Jackson’s troupe that had taken the arm. You wouldn’t be surprised. 
“See you around,” Danny said, squeezing his broad frame back through the entrance. He took you back down the maze to the place you’d come in from, and you were about to ask him if he’d ever worked as a zombie when an actor slammed against the bars his jail cell beside you.
You yelped and moved behind Danny, feeling your heartbeat pick up again.
“Hey, Cindy, hold up,” Danny said to the actor, holding you hand tightly and putting himself between you and the actor. “I got a kitkat with me.”
She immediately let up on her routine and peeked through the bars of the cell.
“Oh, I’m sorry,” she said sincerely. “I didn’t see that it was you. Are you okay, hon?”
You tried to find your voice, tucking yourself safely behind Danny. “I’m fine, thanks. You’re very effective.”
She laughed. “Thank you. Sorry again for scaring you.”
You followed Danny out, trying to get your heartbeat to settle into a normal rhythm. When you were through the back door again, Danny turned to face you.
“I’m really sorry,” he said, and you heard how much he meant it. “I forgot there was a spot there. I should have warned you.”
“It’s okay,” you said weakly. You looked up at him. “You didn’t let her get me, so I guess we’re good.”
He gave you an apologetic smile. “Still, I feel terrible. Are you okay?”
You nodded. “Yes. Sorry you got stuck with the wimpiest girl in the whole world.”
“I don't mind,” he said kindly. He squeezed your hand. “Let's get you back to civilization, yeah?”
As you walked, you felt your phone buzz. You read the text from Ashley, and from the number of odd typos, it seemed like she’d gone back to the car and gotten into the frat boys’ stash of weed or alcohol or both. She didn't seem remotely concerned or apologetic that they’d completely abandoned you, and the demand to come back to the car for a ride home didn’t exactly make up for it.
“Is that your friends?” Danny asked.
You gave a doubtful hum. “I’ve decided ‘friends’ is a bit of a strong word, but yes. They're finally headed back to the car.”
Danny didn’t say anything for a moment. Then, he seemed to work up his courage with a deep breath.
“Okay, so, before I say anything,” he said, “I want you to know you can absolutely turn me down and it won’t hurt my feelings. I’m happy to walk you back to your friends’ car and leave it at that.”
You felt a spark of something eager, something curious. “Okay,” you agreed. “What’s behind door number two?”
His smile was shy. “Well, I was thinking, if you don’t live nine hundred miles from here... I could drive you home. Maybe we could grab some dinner.”
You wanted to say yes immediately, but you made yourself think it through. It was a little crazy to be accepting a ride home from a guy you’d just met at a haunted house — a lot crazy for you, considering you were the opposite of adventurous or risk-seeking — but there was something about Danny that you knew was trustworthy. He’d been nothing but kind to you and hadn’t done anything that made you even vaguely uncomfortable, and you wanted to get to know him better.
“I’d like that,” you said, and you felt yourself blush when he smiled.
“Really?” he asked. “Like I said, I don’t mind taking you over to your friends. But if I do, I... I would like to get your number, and ask you out for something in the daytime if you want.”
You’d never had such genuine, conscientious attention turned your way before, and you found you very much enjoyed it. 
“I would love to go out sometime when it’s not pitch black,” you said, teasing a little, and he laughed.
“And tonight?” he asked, cautious of seeming insistent.
You smiled. “I would be grateful if you could drive me home, if it’s not too far out of your way. I live at the university.”
“That’s not out of the way at all,” he said. “Our house is right around the corner.”
You liked the thought that meeting up with him again would be easy, almost like it was meant to be. As you made it back to the bonfire where Sam, Josh, and Jake were waiting, you texted Ashley to tell her your plans; just as a precaution, though you didn’t think you’d need it, you shared your location with her.
“I gave her instructions to let them do a documentary on me if I get murdered,” you said.
Danny laughed. “Okay. I can promise you that it won’t be me, at any rate. I do think we should get some killer pumpkin waffles, though. I know a good place.”
“Are you going to the diner?” Sam asked. The three of them had been shamelessly listening in on your conversation, and they gave you three matched smiles as you came up to the fire.
“Can we come too?” Josh asked.
Jake elbowed him. “They’re going on a date, dummy.”
Josh scoffed. “It’s not really fair of him to bring up the diner and not invite us.”
“We’ll sit at a different booth,” Sam promised.
You laughed. “I don’t mind if you come,” you said. “And we can sit at the same booth.”
You looked up at Danny. “Unless you mind.”
His smile was equal parts fond and exasperated with his friends. “No, I don't mind. The more the merrier.”
The boys were thrilled to hear that, and they left to get out of their costumes so you could leave. You and Danny sat by the fire in a bashful, quiet companionship. 
“I would like to go out sometime, just us,” you said. “If... if you want to. You four seem kind of like a package deal, though.”
He chuckled. “We are, kind of. We’ve been friends since we were kids — they’re really more like my brothers. But yes, I want to go out sometime too, just us.”
“Even though I'm a kitkat?” you asked. “It’s been quite a first impression.”
He smiled and brushed your hair behind your ear in an affectionate, innocent touch. “It wasn't so bad,” he said. “I’m glad you were my kitkat.”
You blushed and tried to hide your smile. The boys came back and rescued you from doing anything foolish, like kissing a guy you’d just met, and the five of you made your way through the grass to the staff parking lot.
“You two look downright friendly without all your makeup,” you said to Jake and Josh. You saw their differences more clearly now, noticing how Jake’s face was softer and Josh's features were in sharper relief. They were still a matched pair, and Sam clearly took after them in their good looks, but Danny was the one who really held your attention with his tall, broad, and dark aspect.
You all piled into Danny's car, and as they let you have the front seat, you learned that they usually rode together since they were all coming from and going to the same place.
“It’s my turn with the aux,” Jake said, reaching for it.
“No sea shanties, please,” Sam said dramatically. 
“Let kitkat have the aux if she wants,” Josh chided. “She’s the guest.”
“Oh, um...” You took the cord when Jake handed it to you. “Are you sure? What if I pick something you hate?”
“Try us,” Danny said. “Between the four of us, we have a wide variety of musical interests.”
You pulled up your Halloween playlist, thinking it was appropriate, and played “Werewolves of London”.
“Oh hell yeah,” Danny said. “Turn this up.”
“Hey, Dan,” Jake said. “This could be your theme song.”
He smiled. “I'll just put a Union Jack on my costume somewhere.” He glanced over at you. “You like Warren Zevon?”
“I love him,” you said. “Excitable Boy is my favorite album of his.”
“That’s because you have excellent taste,” he said seriously.
You were pleased that he liked what you’d picked, and all of you sang along as he drove past rolling farmland back into the city proper. He pulled up to a diner you’d always wanted to try but had never had a chance to, and the five of you found a booth in the corner and placed your orders for a variety of classic diner food and a round of coffee.
You talked and laughed as you had your late-night dinner, and the more you got to know Danny and his brothers, the more you liked them. When you were finished, you lingered over your coffee and waited for the milkshakes you ordered; you hadn’t wanted a whole dessert to yourself, and Danny offered to split his with you.
Your pumpkin pie shake came with two striped straws, and you giggled when Danny’s nose brushed against yours as you both took a sip. You saw Sam, Jake, and Josh watching you with amusement and affection and couldn’t help but blush.
“Sorry if this is too early to say,” Josh said, “but you two are cute together.”
Danny blushed too, but his smile was pleased. When you were done, he stood and said he was going for a cigarette.
“You want to come?” he asked.
You took the hand he offered and smiled up at him. “Sure.”
He led you outside, and you thought you heard the boys talking about the two of you as you left them. The night air was chilly, and you moved close to him for warmth and maybe something more.
“I have a pack in my jacket,” he said, and you realized you were still wearing it from when he’d given it to you earlier. 
“Oh, I totally forgot,” you said, making to take it off and give it back. “I’m sorry.”
“No, that’s okay,” he assured you. He pulled it back on your shoulders and made sure it was snug. He smiled. “You look better in it anyway.”
He pulled a pack of cigarettes out of the pocket, along with a lighter, and his face was all sharp angles and warm colors in the light of the small flame. 
“You want one?” he asked.
“Sure,” you said, taking the one he offered you. “Thanks.”
He lit it for you and closed the lighter with a little click. He brushed his thumb over the surface of it in an absent, thoughtful touch, and you wondered what he was thinking.
“Thank you for taking such good care of me,” you said.
He smiled. “You’re welcome. It’s my pleasure.”
“Do you ever go through the haunted house?” you asked after a moment. “Not as an actor, I mean.”
He shrugged. “I’ve never had the chance to. I guess I would like to, just to see if from the other side.” He grinned down at you. “Why, are you thinking of coming back in a fit of insanity?”
You gave a soft laugh. “Maybe,” you said. “If I had a big werewolf bodyguard with me to keep me safe.”
He didn't say anything for a moment, but he looked at you with such tenderness and attention you could hardly believe it was directed at you. You didn't consider yourself pretty, certainly not someone to attract such a look from a boy as pretty or as kind as he was, and you felt beautiful under his gaze.
“Can I have a fit of insanity too?” he said. “Just for a second?”
You unconsciously tipped your face up towards him. “Just for a second.”
His smile was impossibly affectionate. “Can I kiss you, kitkat?”
“Please,” you said softly.
He moved slowly, giving you time to pull away, and when he kissed you it was gentle and warm and undemanding. Your whole body felt warm and tingly with something you didn't think you’d ever experienced before.
You sighed when he let you come up for air, and you were glad that he stayed close, his nose brushing against yours.
“I really like you, kitkat,” he said, quiet and sure.
You twined your fingers with his, thanking your lucky stars for haunted houses and big, scary werewolves and everything that was going to come with them.
You smiled and kissed him again. “I really like you too, Danny.”
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danny taglist:@tearsofbri@busybeingtrash@myway-late@gotavansleep@gretavanbri@stardustchxrds@pxppylove @bajabule69 @radmads-gvf@sunnykiszka@audgeppp@ageoffleeet@stardustjake @for-ur-love @aspenkiszka @aspenchosetheroad
gvf taglist:@malany-gvf@spark-my-nature@eearevee@madneedshelp@demonrat444@josh-iamyour-mama @honeyandsweettae @mydarlingdanny@gretavandann@sacredjake@myleftsock@joshskittytickler21@hellowgoodbye@watchingovergvf2@fearfulspirit@mywaysoon@carbondancingthroughtime@caprisunsister @eraofstardustchords @sacredthefran@shesawomaninadream @serendipiti @demonrat444@wildflowerxx-x@tearsofdanny @iluvjoshkiszka @jordie-gvf-admin@demolitionndann @hi-hi-hello11@wildbluesorbit@nessie-glorpa@laneygvf
@gvfrry@ohhey1293@the-chaotic-cow@mountain-in-springtime@xserenax-13@stardustjtk @brooke-gvf@weightofdreams-gvf@jakeydoesit@gretasmokerising@hayley1623@doodle417@finestoflines@brokenbellz@bowievanfleet@s0livagant@strugglingtodoshit@s-u-t@kay-jordan@gretavanfleas@jakeyboiiiiiii@gretavansteph@gretavanbitches@myownparadise96@luverleaver@weightofdreamz@greatervanfleet@maedesculpaeusoubi@jakekiszkasbestie@pineapple-photographer@baguettejuliette@alexxavicry@levi-wants-ur-bones@carlybubs@cowboysamkiszka@dannyandthekiszkas@jordierama@slutforsteve@starshine-wagner@quartzzzzzzz@edgeofdreams@writingcold @lostoverseer @catharu77 @mackalah@jaketlove @haileygvf @blacksoul-27 @ur-m0ms-blog @hi-hi-hello11 @wildbluesorbit @nessie-glorpa @laneygvf @madneedshelp @dreamsingxld
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cannonsoupforthesoul · 5 months
Text
Sing For Me Lovely
By Cannonsoupforthesoul
This is my first time ever posting my own work, it’s 100% brainrot smut. These characters are mine and have no relation whatsoever to any other character or person living or dead 🩷🖤 I do not own the graphic art you see below, if you are the owner and would like it taken down please send me a dm🩷🖤
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Content Warnings: TW-NonCon, TW- Kidnapping,TW- Dubcon, TW- Bondage, Oral (f receiving), Fingering, D/S vibes, Yandere vibes, Obsession, Cuss Words Are Used, Masochist Vibes, Blood/Minor Gore(?)
Word Count - 1678
Copyright @Cannonsoupforthesoul aka me, Aava 2023. Any illegal reproduction of this content will result in immediate legal action.
🌙
Her toes twitched and flexed, legs flung over his shoulders with his broad hands shackled around her thighs. She couldn’t bear to look down and see his dark eyes peering up at her, never once stopping his pointed assault on her pussy.
He’d taken her somewhere, but there were no clues in the dimly lit room. The dark oppressive curtains were drawn shut and the bay window was too far away from the bed. Of course, that was ignoring the fact that she was handcuffed to the headboard. But thinking about that was too stressful, too frightening.
Books lined the exposed brick wall in towering bookshelves amidst gothic art and mirrors on the wall opposite her, a velvet jade loveseat sat in front of the window. There was even a dark wood coffee table, a tv, and a giant black and white photo was hung above the bed.
A studio apartment, or a large bedroom?
Did it even matter?
Iris felt her eyes roll back when her captor laid a particularly rough swipe of his tongue on her pearl, the beads of his tongue piercing pressed against the sensitive bundle of nerves before he sucked the throbbing organ into his mouth. It felt like his was trying to devour her, the sounds of his appreciative groans sang in her ears to the soundtrack of her handcuff chains clanging with her struggling. Tears dripped a path to her hairline as she bit her lip, breaths heavy but desperate to hold in her own sounds of pleasure.
He paused his ministrations, finally relaxing his bruising grip on her meaty thighs and rose from his crouch with a delirious smirk and heart eyes.
“Don’t cry, pretty baby. I’m just gonna make you feel good. The best you’ve ever felt. Think of it as a welcome home, yeah?” He leaned over her, balancing his weight on one hand, shirtless and incredibly broad. His size was simply terrifying; in all her life she’d never seen a man whose presence alone was so daunting. He didn’t need to be so fucking huge as well, there was simply no chance of escaping such a monster. Not in her current predicament.
He swiped his thumb through the tracks of her tears and paused before rubbing the salty taste against her full lips as his eyes lost focus again.
“You’re so goddamn pretty,” he murmured dazedly. “Like a fairy.” His thumb paused its stroke across her bottom lip and he groaned deeply before thrusting it into her mouth, pressing it against her tongue as he panted.
She’d been on the verge of pissing herself in fear since the moment he’d appeared like a shadow in that alley, and there was no telling what he would do with her once he got tired of playing with her body, but that was the moment she snapped. Iris bit down savagely, and didn’t stop even when blood began to gush from the wound she’d created. Mouth bloody, she glared at him fiercely while waiting for him to retaliate.
He did not.
His eyes fluttered shut and he moaned, pressing his hips flush against hers with a roll; that creepy adoring smirk ever present. “Maybe more like a wild cat than a fairy, but what do I know?” He gripped her jaw firmly, just enough to extricate his thumb before she bit it off entirely. “Maybe you’re a goddess in human flesh? Let me worship you.”
Iris trembled while he slithered down her body, leaving hot wet kisses against the tops of her breasts, then more and more on her soft belly as he went until he’d settled between her thighs again.
“I understand why you’re fighting me; you’re afraid. It makes sense, but I would never hurt you. I’d rather slit my own throat. You’re safe with me, I swear on my mother’s grave.”
“Then let me go,” she finally broke her stubborn silence. “Please, please just let me go!”
He grinned wide, revealing longer than average incisors and a scar at the left corner of his mouth that stretched a bit with the movement . His black hair was tied back in a bun at the nape of his of his neck, errant strands clung to his face where her slick had been plastered to his dimpled cheeks during his meal. He was of Asian descent, a veritable giant and built like an athlete. She wouldn’t admit it either, but he was one of the most attractive men she’d ever seen. Covered in tattoos and piercings and somehow, by some cruel twist of fate, exactly her type.
He held her gaze captive as he lifted her legs and placed her thighs on his shoulders, forcing her to rest her shoulders on the bed while he supported the rest of her weight with his hands holding her hips up to his watering mouth while he sat up with his legs folded.
“W-wait!” She stammered desperately through a flood of more tears. “You didn’t even tell-tell me your name you bastard.”
He just chuckled distractedly, cheeks flushed red with excitement. “It’s Shota honey. Remember to sing it real loud for me, yeah?”
With that he went back to work, savoring every inch of her sex. The sounds he made were animalistic, licking at her hole until he could fuck it with his tongue, until her wetness poured freely. She squirmed but there was nowhere to go. Her breath came in quick pants, already over sensitive from from the hour he’d already spent eating her pussy. Breathless whimpers broke free despite her efforts to stay silence once more.
Shota had doubled his efforts, as if his meal might be snatched away from him any minute and made Iris shriek when he began supporting her hips with one arm while his other hand slid toward her beckoning heat. He released his suction on her clit with a pop to the enrapturing chorus of her first clear resounding moans and French kissed her cunt lips with a gleeful smile.
“That’s it lovely, just let me see you feeling good. Can you do that for me? You look so beautiful like this, fucking hell. What about this, how’s that?” He murmured against the flesh of her thigh, and sucked the flesh into his mouth hard while he slid his forefinger into the furnace between her thighs with a groan of his own.
Iris shook against the bed, her feet kicking at the sudden sensation and fluttered again when his thumb rolled over her clit. It was too good, so much better than all the times she’d ever touched herself. Her fingers were never long enough, and silicone was really just plastic, she’d never quite figured out how to use them to their full potential and didn’t bother trying when her hands did the job just fine. He was the real thing, and there was no ignoring that.
“You can take another,” the pussy drunk giant grunted as he replaced his thumb with his tongue and thrust two fingers in oh so slowly. He shuddered as his fingers traversed her silky heat, scissoring his fingers while still ministering to her clit and labia with his desperate seeking mouth.
Iris twitched and whimpered at the onslaught of intense pleasure. She couldn’t think anymore, there was no escaping this moment and she had no choice but to resign her self to be pleasured until she was a mindless quivering puddle.
Time seemed to stop for a moment when Shota’s knuckles hit a small spongey bean in his path within her creamy walls. A wicked cackle immediately bellowed out of him, and with a sinister grin he returned with three fingers. Thrusting fast and deep, angling towards her g-spot.
“Sh-shot-ta! Shota, Shota!” She chanted his name, not even noticing when he lowered her body back onto the bed since he never stopped fucking his fingers into her. The squelch of her slick as it dripped down his hand to his forearm was like the melody in the background of her beautiful voice as she moaned.
“Sing for me honey, you sound so fucking good. Let me hear you.”
Her eyes had closed in their own at some point, but they flew open when a hot mouth latched onto her left nipple. He’d pushed her right thigh up to meet her chest, one big hand holding it up while he rested his weight on his other elbow to give him access to her bare chest.
Kidnapping her had taken months of planning and waiting, but the moment he had her in this room he hadn’t been able to wait before cutting through her clothes and feasting on her gorgeous breasts. She’d woken up after he’d spent the better part of two hours suckling and biting at her chest by that time he’d moved on to her lower half, but her nipples were still sore and hyper sensitive.
Shota ground his hips against the bed, sucking harder, groaning at the taste of her skin and the feeling of her hole fluttering erratically around his thrusting fingers.
The burning coil in Iris’s belly had wound tight as he worked her closer and closer to her orgasm, it felt like anything at all would set her off. Every thrust of his fingers fanned the flames of her approaching climax, and just when she began to grow impatient Shota pressed down hard on her clit and bit down on her nipple, hard.
Iris squirted with a scream, eyes rolling blindly while she babbled incoherently, “Shhh- sshhho- shhhhh…” Her feet kicked wildly when he dropped back between her thighs once more to taste the fountain of her juices, it didn’t stop as he lapped at her tender sex, or when he suddenly nipped her clit. She kept cumming as he continued the onslaught of pleasure, fingering her while he drank her nectar even when she stopped cumming and until she did twice more.
Iris didn’t move again for a long time after that. She would wake up clean and dressed and disoriented in a button down that dwarfed her smaller frame, Shota’s giant body curled around her like ivy while he watched her with heart eyes and his familiar dazed smile.
Fin.
Likes, comments and reblogs appreciated. I’d love to know what you guys think 🖤 Should I keep posting my work?
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vanifou · 5 months
Text
i’m gonna die
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folkloresthings · 7 months
Note
PRIDE AND PREJUDICE — send a muse + a song and i’ll write a little drabble for it.
Hi, can I ask for a little drabble for Carlos Sainz and illicit affairs by Taylor Swift? ❤️
also congratulations on your achievement ❤️
ILLICIT AFFAIRS. ❨ carlos sainz x reader ❩
“jump in.”
the ferrari had pulled up beside you before you’d even registered it, the window rolled down to reveal carlos’ soft smile behind the steering wheel. it had started raining on your walk back to the hotel, and your jacket draped over your head wasn’t doing much to keep you dry. you glance behind you, but the street is empty. there’s no one to spot you getting a ride from a certain driver.
hurriedly slipping into the front seat, your jacket chucked into the back, you sigh happily at the warmth of the car. glancing over, you find carlos’ gaze already resting on you, big and brown and soft. your throat dries up, despite having sat in this very car twenty times before.
“thanks.”
he nods, starting the car again and driving off down the road. he had been headed back to the hotel too, but misses the turn in and carries on along the monaco streets.
“where are we going?” you chirp, hoping it doesn’t go too high pitched when his hand reaches across to rest comfortably on your thigh. his lips tug upward, but he keeps his eyes ahead of him.
“you’ll see.”
there’s no one else about on the lookout point, parking lot empty of life besides the two of you. the whole of monaco is on display to you, sun setting just behind the horizon, lights beginning to glisten on the buildings. the radio hums softly from the speakers, soundtracking the silence between you.
both of you had been doing this little dance for months now. stolen glances and slipping hotel cards into your purse in passing. meeting under dark, hands barely brushing when other eyes were on you. carlos had a relationship to keep up for the cameras — a model that his pr team had chosen. you were just for behind closed doors.
“carlos?”
he looks over to you, his eyes so full of love, and you wonder how he can keep it hidden from the world. you wanted all of him, to bring him to your friend’s parties and christmas at your parents house. you wanted to walk down the street and not fear that a camera might catch you holding his hand.
“yes, mi amor?” he asks, watching the many thoughts racing through your glazed eyes. “what’s going on in that head of yours, hm?”
you sigh, sinking further into your seat. “how long can we go on like this?”
carlos quiets then, the smile that had been resting on such plump lips fading to a pensive line. he knew the truth — you both did, even if you didn’t want to admit it to yourself. nights like these would be perfect, your own little paradise, before the memory of them died the next morning.
“baby…”
you shake your head, tears threatening to spill the second his pet names ring out. you knew what was coming, promises that blurred into lies. “don’t call me that. not unless you mean it.”
he looks at you then, confusion painted on his features. you could have slapped him then, pretending like he didn’t know just what you were talking about. “unless we can make this real. i’m tired of hiding and pretending i’m not desperately in love with you, carlos. i’m tired of you not being able to take me out to dinner, or to support you at your races, or to hold you hand in public. i’m tired.”
“you know i can’t—” carlos stutters out, lost for what he can say. he won’t ever call you his, because you never could be. and no matter how much you wanted to cry and scream and hit him until he saw sense, he wasn’t yours to lose.
the worst part was, no matter how exhausting this love was, it was all you had. he had taken your life and painted it colours you’d never even known existed. everything had been better since carlos had stolen your heart away, but it was only better in secret.
“take me back to the hotel,” you whisper, head ducking to hide your tears from him. he reaches over, his chest aching. god, he hated making you feel like this — but he wouldn’t make promises he couldn’t keep. “please?”
your big, wet eyes find his in the dark of the car and he caves. nodding slowly, starting up the engine and pulling out of the parking lot. the drive back is slow and silent, even the radio can’t bare to be on. every so often you sniffle, wiping away a stray tear from your cheek, and carlos resists every urge to pull the car over and bundle you into his arms.
when the glow of the lobby is in sight, you finally look at him again. his own eyes are a little glossy and you know he’s holding every emotion in, deep deep down. he always did with you, never wanting to break. you reach over the centre console, soft lips pressing to his cheek. his eyes flutter shut, holding onto the feeling of your kiss lingering on his skin.
“we can work something out,” the spaniard gives it one last try, begging eyes turning to you. you’re so close to giving in, caving at any sign of his affection, but your heart knows it can’t take another beating.
“goodbye, carlos,” you whisper, hand squeezing his with a sad sort of smile. you slip out, fingers lingering on the closed door. you want him to get out, to follow you upstairs and beg for your mercy as he pleasures every inch of you. disappointment reigns when his car pulls away, disappearing into the monaco night. perhaps the last time you’ll ever see him — perhaps the last time your heart will ever love again.
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denaliwrites · 4 months
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My Heart's a Stereo
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Crowley x GN!Reader
Summary: Crowley fears a lot of things, but losing you is at the top of hios list.
Soundtrack: Stereo Hearts by Gym Class Heroes
Requests: Open!
Warnings: Canon-Typical Heart Proble--wait...
Life had, rather ironically, been a tad bit hectic since the doctors discovered something wrong with your heart. You understood, of course. You were young and otherwise healthy. There was really no reason for there to be a problem, so they were in a rush to find the proper diagnosis and fix you -- well, assuming it could be fixed, anyway.
And your poor boyfriend -- you could tell the situation pained him more than it did you, scared him more than it did you. Not that you weren't pained or scared, because of course you were. He just seemed... more open about it, like he couldn't be bothered to repress it.
Or maybe he wanted to show you that it was okay to be those things.
Even with that thought in mind, you didn't really let it show just how rattled you were over the whole thing. Crowley worried enough for the both of you, he didn't need yours compounding his.
Two months of extensive testing and few conclusive results didn't break you down. A third month of even more tests and several bad results delivered with devastating simplicity in a too-bright office painted in Caribbean sea green and decorated with gold and teal corporate art blotches didn't break you down.
No, what finally broke you down was the first night Crowley shook you awake.
It was a random night sometime in the fourth month -- the doctors were still running batteries of tests, but they'd generally accepted a diagnosis and had moved on to treatment.
Crowley insisted on staying by your side, at all times. In the doctors' offices, at home, at the grocery store, in Aziraphale's bookshop and, most adamantly, in bed.
He'd forbidden doing anything fun in that bed, so you weren't sure why he wanted so badly to be there.
At least, until you were woken one night to him desperately shaking you awake.
You blinked blearily up at him, eyes struggling to focus through the sleep still clawing at your consciousness and the aggressive shaking that was slowly working to chase away the sleep.
"C--Crowley," you whimpered, trying to shrug him off. "What the hell--stop!"
He stopped instantly, eyes widening as if he'd only just realized you were awake.
"I'm sorry," he muttered, stroking your face and chest lovingly -- no... wonderingly. "I'm so sorry. I just --" He made a sound at the back of his throat, but it wasn't like the one he usually made. This one sounded like a choked sob. "I just needed to make sure."
"Make sure? What?"
"That you were... I-I just... the thing is..."
"Crowley, please just tell me."
He hesitated, and you could see the gears behind his eyes turning, contemplating the best course of action. Whether telling you was a good idea or not. At first, you thought maybe he wasn't going to say anything. But then, quietly...
"Your heart stopped."
Oh.
"I had my ear over your heart, so I could listen -- hearing it, it comforts me. Knowing it's still going. I just... that's all I do, all night. Listen to your heart... but it -- it stopped. It stopped and --"
You weren't sure when the first tear fell, but you felt the dam break and you felt the sobs that shook your whole body.
Instantly, Crowley had you in his arms, wrapped up tight in a warm embrace that relaxed you all the way through.
"If you tell me it's okay to be scared," you managed through your sobs, "I swear to God."
He laughed, and it sounded wet, and you realized that he was crying too. "Sick of hearing me say that?"
"I'm sick of everyone saying it."
"Yeah, fair enough." He laughed again, and through the tears, you managed to join him.
The two of you stayed locked in that embrace for what felt like hours and, hell, maybe it was. Eventually, though, you mutually disengaged. While you wiped the tears from your face, Crowley moved to a stand.
"Where are you going?" you asked.
He leaned down and planted a gentle kiss in the center of your forehead. "I am going to go get you a hot chocolate."
You couldn't help the little moan that broke out from the back of your throat. "Okay, that does sound good... I guess you can go."
"Thank you, darling," he said teasingly.
You weren't left alone very long -- after that scare, you were sure Crowley would want to start following you even into the places he'd dared not go before, like the toilet and shower.
And though the moment of being alone was nice, you couldn't help but feel relief when you saw him walk in the door, mug of hot cocoa in hand.
He passed it off to you, then sat next to you on the bed and leaned over to kiss your temple. "I know you're tired of hearing it, but it really is okay to be scared. It's okay to feel anything -- but it... it's not okay to bury it all and pretend you don't feel anything. Those emotions are gonna be there, whether you want them to be or not."
You sighed into your hot cocoa. "I know," you whimpered. "I guess I just... I thought maybe if I pretended nothing was different, it'd go away, and people would stop treating me so delicately like they do now. I just want people to stop acting like I'm made of porcelain suddenly."
He looked so sad -- and you could see in his eyes that he was only just realizing he'd been part of the problem. "I'm sorry," he murmured into your shoulder as he leaned in to kiss it. "I'm so sorry. I should've known. I shouldn't have let my feelings affect how I treated you."
"It's okay," you said with a light shrug. "It's okay for you to feel things too. You're my partner -- this affects you too."
He kissed your shoulder again, then pulled you into an awkward side embrace. You didn't mind, though -- you wanted nothing more than to be close to him.
He bent weirdly so that he could rest his cheek over your chest, ear pressed to the spot just over your heart. You let your head fall -- gently -- over his throat, keeping him locked in that contorted position. He didn't seem to mind, more than content to listen to the beating of your heart until long after you'd finished your hot cocoa, and fallen asleep nestled into his neck.
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