#ALSO THE BDA GAVE ME CHILLS

[tabiyukki]

Just finished watching the daily life premiere on YT, and I must say something I’ve been saying for years on end now.

Chapter 1 light spoilers and victim/killer mentions for DRDT Chapter 2 if you haven’t seen it!!

I know who the victim is, obviously, and to avoid major spoilers I won’t say anything much more than I genuinely believe that the Eden’s Garden team will be able to work around this.

I’m already seeing people saying “oh what a waste of good character potential.. yada yada” but the truth is, not every character is going to be fleshed out like you want them to be, hell when the BDA showed who the victim was I was upset too, not because I liked them but I was interested to see what’d happen with their character. (I had a love leaning to hate relationship with them actually, because I’m just like Damon and he’s just like me😭)

But you gotta be realistic, they’re many approaches you can take to expand on characters even beyond their deaths. This happens in popular media all the time, why do y’all act like the authors spat in your faces every time it happens? You’ll be finee guys, besides. We still have the motive secret to figure out, I’m sure it’ll come to light soon enough.

Honestly this reminds of DRDT C2 ALLLL over again. Obviously their character can still be fleshed out even after their death, just like I’m sure Ace’s and AREI’S (very heavy on Arei) will be as well. Honestly all DR fans do is complain and I can’t stand it.. truly.

This is just a pre-3am rant and I’m not really sure if I’m even making the slightest bit of sense right now but I’m excited to see how the investigation & trial part of C1 play out and how it’ll affect the psyche of the remaining contestants so far.. I have a main prediction on who the culprit is but I will be off X & Tumblr until I watch the rest of the chapter. Bye!

[holylangdon]

Little Hell (Michael Langdon x Reader)

Request: “Hey! I wanted to ask if you could write some smut for Michael Langdon. Maybe he is with his lover and she’s riding him. I am so weak for him.” - Anon

Warnings: Fem!Reader, actual sin, so much sexual tension, slight choking, oral sex (reader receiving), unprotected sex, rough-ish sex, dominant Michael but willing to be a little submissive, hair pulling, reader on top, Michael calls the reader babe a few times, maybe OOC Michael 

Word Count: 2.1k

A/N: Shoutout to the BDA groupchat for putting up with me while I wrote this. Also I ran out of steam at the end but let’s pretend its good pls and thanks

(I love my friends so I gotta tag em real quick: @cupkayyyke @jana-banana-fana @binxee @cherryruin @justanotherfandomjunkie)

“I’ll tell you how this process works.” The taller man began, letting his sinister blue eyes roam over you. “You’re tell me the truth. Not the truth you think I want to hear, not the truth you might have deceived yourself into believing, but the complete honesty that we both know you’re capable of telling.”

He gave you a second to process his lengthy explanation. Langdon was relaxed in his seat across the desk, one knee crossed over the other. He had a lurking aura of authority that loomed over the room. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t find the long-haired man attractive as you watched his every move in anticipation.

“Things you may feel will be helpful might be hurtful. Things you may feel will compel rejection may be exactly what I’m looking for, your saving grace. If you omit any detail, no matter how small, I’ll know. If you lie to me, I’ll know. If you try to deceive me, this interview will be over and you will die here painfully. And make no mistake, if you expect to walk out of this room thinking you’ve got me right where you want me, you will be punished.

“I will do my best to deduct whether or not you will leave this Outpost alive or be eaten by the scavengers. Am I clear?” 

“Yes sir.” 

You tried to hide all signs of nervousness, but you were almost certain he could see through the poised exterior. A soft smile crossed Langdon’s lips as you leaned back, crossing your legs underneath the long purple dress you were wearing. It was one of the most simple ones you had in your provided wardrobe, but it still seemed to suffocate you in the warm room.

“What are you most afraid of?” 

Honestly? In this very moment, it was him. Your fate rested in his hands. “The hell that waits beyond the gates.” You said lightly. The lie came with its risks, but you decided to jump the gun and say it. He didn’t seem like he cared as he skipped to the next question.

“How do you feel about your current... Predicament? How did you end up here?” He asked. 

You continued to watch the man across from you as he spoke. He seemed odd, almost, but you weren't sure why. Everything about him demanded respect, but he cloaked himself in a vaguely sexual, familiar aura. His outfit was dark black, his eyelids painted bright red. You wondered if that was the Cooperative’s work or his own, the eyeshadow. Ultimately you decided it was his own doing.

That was, by far, the most difficult part of being here at the Outpost. It was so different from any part of the outside that you’d ever known. A closely monitored closet of pre-Victorian dresses and undergarments, candles being the only source of light, a single jelly-like cube for breakfast and lunch. A class system of greys and blacks and purples. A leader who’s darkness you could feel from a mile away, and her perfect little followers who obeyed every single one of her orders, no matter how disruptive to the society. 

But you still missed the old world. The 2018 America you had finally gotten on decent terms with until you were rudely yanked from your and your boyfriend’s apartment at three in the morning. The two armored people offered no explanation other than you having “perfect DNA.” They told you that you and a select few were chosen via various tests that you were the most genetically fit to survive the oncoming apocalypse. But truth be told, you weren't sure if living through it was even truly worth what it would take to get there. The thought was depressing, but it was the truth, and that’s what you told Langdon. Albeit in a far more condensed form.

"You don’t sound grateful.” He observed. His long brown hair fell to the side as he tilted his head, bringing his hands together to rest it on. “You, Y/N, are here, safe and sound from what killed more than seven billion people. You didn’t die by the blast, you’re not poisoned by the radiation, you aren’t being eaten by cannibals. You’re being fed and dressed with a roof over your head. This would’ve cost one hundred million dollars for anyone else.”

“Oh, I’m thankful.” You said, licking your lips. You knew your tone sounded a bit sassy, maybe sarcastic, but you didn’t care. “I got a free ticket to survival of the fittest. I’m just not sure I deserve it.”

“Why do you say that? I mean, you’re surrounded by people who paid their way in. Look at the Saint Pierre girl and her friends. Does that bother you?” He stood from his seat slowly, walking to the other side of the room. He admired the small fireplace beside him for a moment before coming back to you, taking a seat on top of the wooden desk. “Surely you’ve thought about it.”

“I haven’t.” 

He went quiet as he thought for a moment before leaning forward, mere centimeters away from your face. You felt his icy hand on your cheek, his rings resting against the soft skin. You expected to feel his lips pressed against yours, but instead, you felt his cold breath as he whispered into your ear.

“I don’t think I believe you.”

It felt like some primal urge to break the connection he had to you. To stand up and be released from his grasp. But when his hand slipped down your cheek and to your neck, ghosting over your pulse, you melted underneath him. He locked his hand around your throat as he hummed quietly, simply watching your face. Your eyes were closed and your eyebrows lightly furrowed together as you tried not to show pleasure at the sexual touch. But God, it felt good. 

When he pulled away, you finally opened your eyes again only to see his. They stared over you once more, but this time, his gaze was different. Something fiery burned behind the bright blue. “I like you. You’re different.” The light in the room went dark, only a few lit candles still remaining. For some reason, that didn’t even faze you as he stood before you, your heart beating a mile minute.

"It’s getting late. We can pick this up in the morning.” 

And with that, he released you from the room.

Later that night, you were laying in bed as you replayed the scene in your head. Was he intentionally toying with you like that? Surely so. He was so certain of himself and his actions as he watched you squirm. He loved it. He found his pleasure in being able to manipulate you so easily.

It was only an unexpected, quiet knock at the door that interrupted your thoughts. Was it Venable? Were you being taken somewhere else again? Had the Cooperative selected you? Had you done something wrong? Your mind raced with the possibilities as you crept over to the door. What stood behind it shocked you.

Langdon. 

He was dressed casually, sweatpants and a t-shirt. It was vastly different than what you had previously seen him in, and suited him a bit more than his usual formal wear, if you were honest. His reddish hair was tucked behind his ears, and he wore a blank expression on his face.

He wasted no time before snaking his hand around your waist, pulling you in for a deep kiss. He walked the two of you backwards as he kicked the door shut, letting it fall closed with a small ‘thud.’ Quickly, he leaned backwards to lock it.

The kiss was hungry. Passionate. Lustful. Slowly, he began to play with the hem of your nightgown, carefully moving closer and closer to the heat that pooled between your legs. You couldn’t help but moan against his lips as his thumb gliding over your panties, letting him break the kiss only to lift your nightgown above your head, letting it fall on the floor.  

“That’s one way to make an entrance.” You mumbled, helping him strip his own shirt off. He smiled, letting you look him in the eye. The beautiful blues sent a chill down your spine while he just admired you. “I don’t even know your name.”

“Michael.” He muttered. It wasn’t angry, or hesitant as you’d expected. He seemed glad, almost, to let you know his name. For you to call him something other than ‘sir’ or by his last name. “Michael Langdon.”

It was a blur how you ended up on your bed, Michael hovering over you. He planted a soft kiss to your collarbone, your breast, your stomach... Meanwhile his hand played with the waistband of your panties, pulling them down, down down, and tossing them away. You moaned softly as he rubbed your clit with his finger, a small swear falling from your mouth. 

Suddenly, he removed his hand, and moments later he comfortably rested between your thighs. He reached for your hand, sliding his rings onto your smaller fingers with ease. You didn't know why, but that simple action was so, so sexy to you. Maybe it was because he trusted you to keep them for him, a simple show of affection to you.

Recently, you had learned that Michael didn’t like to waste his valuable time. That was during the interview, and it was happening now. He liked things to be fast-paced, very straight to the point. He was confident about it, almost as if he had been used to doing it his whole life. 

He licked and sucked for a moment before stopping, presumably to gauge your reaction. That annoyed you. Gently, you grabbed a fistful of his hair, keeping him in place. You felt him groan lightly in pleasure. Had you just discovered his kink?

Michael continued to lick between your folds, slicking his fingers over you. You moaned loudly when he pushed two digits into you, letting you shiver with anticipation. The two of you were perfect together, with you tugging and pulling on his long, silken hair, guiding him easily. He followed your gestures like a lost puppy, focusing his attention wherever you directed him to. It seemed like the harder you pulled, the more submissive he became, melting under your fingertips. He held back small moans each time your grip tightened, his pace not slowing.

It wasn't much longer before pleasure washed over you as you came on his tongue, which he didn’t mind at all. In fact, the eager-to-please expression on his face told you that he enjoyed it.

When he finally pulled away, your eyes locked on his swollen lips and wet chin, which were dripping with your juices. Pulling him up your body, you hesitantly pressed your lips to his to taste yourself. You felt his excitement growing against you. That drove him wild in ways you could never understand. 

You pulled away from him a few moments later. “You’re so impatient. Didn’t anyone ever teach you that patience is a virtue?” 

“Do you think I would’ve helped you if it wasn’t?” He cooed, meeting your lips with another kiss. “What are you going to do about it, babe? Hm?”

You gave him a look as he rolled onto the bed, letting you climb on top of him. A newfound surge of confidence pulsed through your body as you untied his sweatpants, sliding them down his leg. You were in charge now, and Michael knew it. The way you kissed him as you guided his long cock into you only confirmed his suspicions. 

He gave your ass a small squeeze when you took him in, a small groan exiting his lips as he felt your warmth clasp around him. With a small thrust, you adjusted to his size quickly, leading to harder, deeper ones. The two of you fell into a nice rhythm soon, your hands resting on his bare chest. Every time you slid down, he'd buck his hips to meet you, eliciting a small moan from you every time. God, how he wished he could let you scream his name. If you wouldn’t be punished, even the corpses outside would know who was fucking you.

Neither of you lasted too much longer before you both reached your orgasms. His name and a string of curses fell from your lips as you came for the second time, and not but seconds later, light moans escaped the man in front of you as he finally, finally got his release. The two of you were both pleased as you sat on the now-messy bed together in silence, each of you trying to comprehend what had just now happened. 

Did you really just have late-night sex with a member of the Cooperative? Yes, yes you did.

You could tell that Michael wasn’t the type to stick around after he got what he wanted. He preferred to sleep on his own in his bed, his previous lover nowhere in sight. But somehow, some way, he couldn’t say no when you asked him to stay just long enough for you to fall asleep. That turned into “just a little while longer” and “I don’t want to wake her up,” which, in turn, resulted in the two of you being curled up together in the dark until morning came.

And that was good enough for you.