#are you calling him heavy nea?

[gladoswantscake]

Condemned to Repeat - Dracula x Reader (DBD)

Summary: You haven't quite escaped from him.

Warnings: Horror, blood, and mild suggestive themes (the blood makes him freaky lol)

A/N: Continuation as the previous one, but you don't really need to read the previous story unless you want to. This can serve as chapter two or a standalone.

Enjoy @nathscalet 😌 The wait is over. I hope you and everyone else like it.

(It's a shame they didn't add his castle to the game 😔)

Available on AO3

"𝘈𝘯𝘥 𝘥𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘩 𝘴𝘩𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘣𝘦 𝘯𝘰 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦, 𝘯𝘦𝘪𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘴𝘩𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘣𝘦 𝘮𝘰𝘶𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘯𝘰𝘳 𝘤𝘳𝘺𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘯𝘰𝘳 𝘱𝘢𝘪𝘯 𝘢𝘯𝘺𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦, 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘮𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘱𝘢𝘴𝘴𝘦𝘥 𝘢𝘸𝘢𝘺." (𝘙𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 21:4)

The warm tears grew heavier when you realized there was no escape from him. The gentle grip on your jaw eases as you lower your head to hide your tears from him.

"Please look at me." The tone of his voice saddens. "It greatly pains me to see you in such distress."

You shook your head in reply. Words couldn't come out of your mouth as you were losing more of your composure. You then felt his arms wrapping around you, pulling you into his embrace.

"It'll be alright." He whispered.

That's when you lost it. You sink your loud, muffled cries into the crook of his neck, and your hands reach for his shoulder, tightly gripping him. You felt his sharp nails run through your wet hair in an attempt to calm you down.

"Please don't weep." He kisses the top of your head. "I promise you after tonight, you will no longer shed tears. For you will be contented with me forever."

The last thing you remembered that night was he guided you to a spare bedroom to help clean you up and rest, and then you blacked out.

After that, you woke up in the middle of the dark forest laying against a tree. A woman named Claudette was the first person to discover your unconscious body. A few other survivors were sitting at a campfire upon being brought.

There were many others, you were told, but they were in different realms serving their 'trials.' That's what the others called it. Realms created by "the Entity" to watch for enjoyment. You remembered seeing the supposed Entity right after your car accident. It must have gotten you before you had the opportunity to escape. You learned of the other's names from the campfire: Nea, Alan, and Gabriel. They somehow came from different alternate worlds that you never knew existed. They briefly filled you in on what you needed to know and what to expect. Most importantly, they reminded you that getting everyone out of the trial was the number one priority.

Unfortunately, it doesn't always happen.

It didn't take you long to be transported to a trial for the first time. But this realm felt too familiar to you.

Then it hit you.

You found yourself back in Dracula's castle. Your heart sank at the familiarity. That meant he was here, too.

The castle this time was eerie, dark, and much colder. The occasional running footsteps of your teammates and generators drowned out the silence of Dracula's home.

Your teammates were getting slaughtered fast, which meant there was a possibility of no one escaping the trial, but you were lucky you hadn't run into him yet.

You remember one of your teammates mentioning a hatch. It only appears when one survivor remains, guaranteeing an escape from the trial. Their only advice was the fastest way to find the hatch was to keep your ears peeled.

All three of your teammates were massacred. There was one last blood-curdling scream before the castle went utterly silent. Only you and Dracula remained in the trial. You had to find the hatch and fast.

You ran and ran until your chest was heaving, lungs were burning, and legs growing heavier the longer you ran. The castle felt like a maze. You swore you had looped around the main entrance twice. Your heavy footsteps and panting alerted your presence, but you were more focused on escaping. The quicker you find the hatch, the less time you'd spend in your captor's manor. You prayed for this to be the last time you had to relive it.

There was a faint sound in the distance. A high-pitched rapid clicking sound was drawing closer to you down the hallway. You turned around to investigate the noise. A swarm of bats were heading your way. You took off again. Running with whatever energy you had left in you. The sound of bats soon became fast footsteps. With your stamina used up, a hand reaches for your mouth and pushes you up against the wall.

The force of your body being thrown against the textured wall causes you to yell out in pain. You look up at the person who did it.

Dracula.

It almost looked like he was a rabid animal within the state he was in. His eyes were now a red crimson color, and his mouth and white beard was covered in blood. His fanged grin was mad. "I was afraid I would never see you again."

His clawed hand finds your jaw and tilts your head to examine your neck. He leans into your ear to listen to your pulse. His bloodied tongue then drags against your skin. The uncomfortable grip on your jaw tightens.

"If I let your friends escape, I wouldn't have any alone time with you." You could smell the sweet metallic scent of your teammates' blood from his breath.

"Are you going to kill me too?"

He looks back at you, chuckling. "I would have done that earlier if you were another worthless mortal."

He takes a moment to listen to the pounding of your heart in your chest. His gaze darkens as he grins. "I hope your heart is pounding because you're delighted to see me."

Tears trickle from your eyes. "Please let me go." You beg.

He ignored your cries. Instead, he takes in the rhythmic beating of your pulses and the feeling of your body close to his. The sensations were driving him mad. He wanted to take his time. He wanted to express how much he was devoted to you. The Entity can wait.

"I cannot let you go, I'm afraid." His hot breath hits your ear. "You have no idea how long I've yearned for you, my love." His kisses are applied with more emotion. His kisses travel from your jawline to your shoulder. His breathing becomes irregular as his arousal grows. The blood of your teammates was making it worse. Their blood was good, but not as pure and rich as when he tasted yours for the first time. He wasn't sure how much longer he could keep himself from losing self-control.

His intimate thoughts abruptly stopped when he heard your voice.

"Vlad…" He listens close when he heard you call him by his real name. Your warm hands reach for his pale, cold face to force him to look at you. He stares deeply at you, feeling inattentive and relaxed by your touch.

"Please…" Your eyes glisten. You were tired and exhausted. You were ready to get it over with. You've come to terms once again with the fact that there was no way out. Maybe dying by his hand was a better option than to be sacrificed to the Entity. It would be quick. You prayed that your death would take you to the afterlife.

He hesitated for a moment with your request. He couldn't let you go nor kill you. It would hurt him deeply. He couldn't live without you. Instead, he pulls you away from the wall, gripping your waist.

"Forgive me…my love." He slightly lowers your back.

He presses his lips against yours. A mixture of blood and saliva enters your mouth as his kiss quickly deepens. The sharp nails of his fingers lightly dig into your scalp as his fangs gently poke your upper lip. Your back lowers more, and your hands grip the neck of his cape to prevent yourself from falling.

Suddenly, your eyes widen, followed by gasping pain coming from you. Your body froze as you now realize his teeth are plunging deep into your neck. The ringing in your eardrums grows louder as you lose sight of your surroundings.

"V-Vlad…" Your voice quietly croaks. "Stop… Please." Your voice slowly trails off.

He felt your body go limp. He accomplished what he wanted to do. "You will join me soon." He kisses your forehead. "I promise to keep you safe."

[rileyslibrary]

Meal, Under-the-Stars

Summary: Simon’s inability to show affection irritates you. Until Valentine’s Day arrives.

Relationship: Simon “Ghost” Riley x F!Reader

Word Count: 1,360

Notes:

angst/fluff

*sighs* it’s almost Valentine’s so *gestures aggressively at the fic*

i made sure it’s the least amount of cringe, pinky promise

Want more?

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You collapse in your bus seat, travelling home after another long day at the office. The chair feels too stiff, and the ride is too bumpy. That’s what you get for missing your bus and taking a different route. Damn it. Your neck is tense from the hours of hunching over the computer, and a pulsing pain has settled behind your eyes, threatening to rip your skull apart. As if your physical agony wasn’t enough, the bus’s noises aren’t helping. Without your headphones, you’re left to suffer in silence and listen to the people around you.

The two women in front of you talk nonstop about their upcoming Valentine’s Day plans. The first, with a smug look, reveals how her boyfriend has planned a romantic getaway to Europe. You can almost hear the silent “aren’t I lucky?” that hovers at the end of her sentence. Her friend humbly brags back about her partner taking her to a jewellery store where she can pick out whatever she wants. You suppress a groan and roll your eyes instead.

You turn to your left. Your attention is drawn to a man whose face is concealed by a towering bouquet of flowers. The sight of him and the enormous gift next to him makes you wonder. Could it be chocolates? The package seems too bulky for that. Lingerie maybe? It looks too heavy for delicate lace. Perhaps it contains the embodiment of his love for his significant other, ripped from his soul and transformed into a tangible form, you ponder sarcastically.

The image of Capitalism, dressed in a three-piece tailored suit and hat, sitting on a throne made of kitschy teddy bears, comes to mind. He sips a glass of wine made from rose petals and sneers at the spectacle before him: people spending their hard-earned money on unnecessary gifts and experiences, all in the name of love. When did a simple and sincere “I love you” become insufficient? When did it become necessary to spend a fortune on extravagant trips, sparkling diamonds, and wrapped boxes filled with empty promises? Did your grandparents go to such lengths to express their affection, or is this just the plague of your generation?

And why does this all bother you so much? Could it be that Simon’s inability to express his affection for you is causing your bitterness? You recall Aesop’s fable about the fox and the grapes. Like the fox, you cannot grasp what you want, so you try to convince yourself that what others have is, like the grapes, sour. Admit it: you’re envious of those who are happily celebrating Valentine’s Day, surrounded by love and affection, while you’re on your way home to a strained relationship, where love is shown through practical acts like fixing the thermostat or reminding you to take an umbrella on a potentially rainy day.

You knew he was reserved and guarded the moment you met him. “A mystery wrapped in a balaclava”, you used to jokingly call him. It took months of building rapport and earning his trust before he finally revealed his face to you. But, despite this, you find yourself wanting more. Wasn’t this enough? Get a grip, sweetheart; Valentine’s Day is for the rest of the world, not you two.

As the bus pulls to a stop, you rise from your seat and step off, feeling heavy and reluctant as you make your way home. The weight of your expectations slows your pace as if you are afraid to face reality—that the love you seek may not be the love he is capable of giving...

You reach the front steps, the cool metal of the key turning in your hand as you unlock the door. You push it open, the emptiness inside greeting you like an old friend. Something on the floor catches your attention; military bags and tactical gear are neatly arranged near the entrance. You look across the kitchen table to see a map with checkmarks on it. Has he been summoned for a mission and forgotten to tell you? No, it cannot be; this is far worse than you expected.

As you make your way down the hall, the noise coming from the bedroom fills the silence. The door is slightly ajar, and you push it open to find him standing before you, freshly showered and wrapped in a crisp white towel from the waist down. Droplets of water cling to his damp hair, with strands hanging over his forehead. His towering stature is imposing, his muscles resembling those of a Greek statue carved by a master artist. Like faded memories of battles fought, scars are dotted across his body, each telling a tale of modern warfare.

He smirks as you enter the room, but you can’t help the flare of anger that rises within you.

“You’re late,” he says, continuing to dry himself.

How dare he.

“Traffic,” you respond, trying to steady your voice. “Where are you going?”

“We are going,” he corrects you nonchalantly.

Huh?!

“W-we?” you stammer. “Simon, where are we going?”

“Out,” he says with a smirk.

You frown at him. You’re exhausted—tired of work, tired of the long trip back home, tired of his mysterious demeanour. You need answers—complete, coherent, straightforward answers—and you need them fast. Now.

“Care to explain further, Simon?” you ask, trying to compose yourself.

“We're going camping,” he says as he starts putting on his gear.

Your heartbeat quickens. Suddenly the grapes are not sour anymore. They seem sweet again.

“So, camping, huh?” you ask with a cheeky grin. “Why?”

“Don’t make me say it,” he says sternly. “I’ve seen enough atrocities to know what today is.”

“You never struck me as the romantic sort, Mr Riley,” you reply.

“Oh, but I am romantic, my love,” he corrects you. “Just not the cliché type.”

But, of course! That’s why you fell for him in the first place. He’s not your typical guy. He may not serenade you, but he’ll fix things with his own hands. And he won’t kneel on one leg to recite poetry, but he’ll ensure you’re warm, safe, and fed.

Fed. Food. Did he think about food?

“I’ll prepare something quick to take with us,” you tell him.

“No need to,” he replies. “I’ve prepared an outstanding variety of MREs for us.”

What a guy.

“What about me?” you ask pointing at his gear. “I don’t have the appropriate clothing for this.”

He looks amused. “That’s weird,” he comments. “I’m sure I saw something at the entrance earlier today.”

You stare at him, confused, dash to the front door, and inspect the gear you saw earlier. To your surprise, it’s all your size.

You slip into the gear, feeling its weight and texture against your skin. The material is rugged yet flexible, allowing you to move easily. You run your hand over the pockets, checking to ensure everything is in place, before returning to the bedroom.

As you enter, Simon looks up from his bag, and his gaze travels down your form. You stand tall and proud; sure, you’re still tired and in pain, but at least you’re happy. You twirl for him to get a better look.

He nods his approval with a smile. “You look like a proper camper,” he says jokingly. “I had no idea you had it in you.”

“Come on, Simon!” You shout, fists clenching at your sides as you stand in the doorway. “It’s Valentine’s Day,” you implore, your voice growing softer. “At least say something nice.”

He regards you, his lips curling upward in amusement. “Alright, alright,” he says, holding up his hands in surrender. “You want something nice?” He asks, and you nod, smiling.

“You got it.” He steps closer, towering over you, and gazes down with warm and tender eyes. “You look beautiful,” he says. “Absolutely stunning.”

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[37sommz]

000.⠀⠀NOW PLAYING: only angel [6.7k, smut]. ✼. view:⠀masterlist⠀⸻⠀join the taglist⠀⸻⠀request. ✼. synopsis:⠀michaela's all alone after her first podium. ✼. notes:⠀part two to the dts episode! did i take loose inspiration from hamilton's "say no to this"? yes. did this end up being way way way too long? yes. ✼. warnings:⠀18+, mdni, general language warnings, explicit sexual content, pwp, cheating, unprotected sex, jenson has a potty mouth, cheating!

✼.⠀SEPTEMBER 13, 2020 — tuscany, italy

Michaela stepped out of the shower, the warm water washing away the leftover champagne that stuck to her as if a second skin. Her skin glowed with the fading adrenaline of the day's exertions, the faint memory of the history made still ringing in her ears. As she toweled off, the sound of the distant Tuscan celebrations seeped into her luxurious hotel suite.

The air carried the glorious scent of victory, mingled with the faint aroma of leather and gasoline that clung to her like a signature perfume. She wrapped the delicate towel around her athletic figure, her muscles still humming from the exhilaration of the podium finish.

Her eyes scanned the room she had called home for the last week, taking in the plush, soft furnishings, the walls adorned with elegant artwork, the balcony beckoning with a breathtaking view of the vineyards the hotel boasted as being the source of their rich wine. Yet, amidst the opulence in celebration, there was a hint of loneliness.

Olivier had called her to explain his reasons for not showing up for the race weekend. She honestly didn't remember what excuse he used this time, leaving her to navigate the after-party alone. Though a nagging feeling gnawing at her loyalty reminded her of the difficulties the long-distance presented for the two of them, she traded the feeling in favor of the awaiting festivities just downstairs. She sighed, her breath misting the mirror as she readied herself for the evening ahead.

The bar was a buzz of activity, a cocktail of laughter and clinking glasses. Each face was a blur of familiarity and she felt a strange sense of detachment, as if she was watching the celebrations as a third party. The weight of the podium trophy held heavy on her heart as she found herself oddly alone. She had dreamt of this moment, but somehow the reality was bittersweet without so much as a family member, or even Olivier himself, beside her to share in the triumph.

She was more than aware Alex and Lando were off and away, likely already inebriated beyond recognition as she was intentionally late to her own after-party. Her eyes searched the room, hoping to find their friendly faces amidst the wave of strangers.

Unable to find their familiar eyes, a piercing blue-eyed gaze cut through the crowd like a knife to find hers. Jenson Button, lounged in the corner, a whiskey in hand, his eyes locked on hers. Michaela had been unaware the Brit had even been in Tuscany at all. Her mind scrambled to find an inkling of recognition of his presence at the Grand Prix but was left unable to as her mind slowly drew her attention back to the blonde former champion.

As if possessed by his gentle light, her feet carried her to the bar. A few bodies separated them as she claimed a place alongside the black and gold accented bar. Murmurs of congratulations from people she did not quite recognize were received on gracious ears and short exclamations of gratitude. Her impatience is tangible as her eyes flit back to Jenson's awaiting invitation. Unable to tear herself away from the continuous pour of well wishes and slurred speculations about that elusive Ferrari contract.

With a knowing smile, Jenson approached her, his move casual yet flooded with confidence. He leaned against the bar next to her, "Mind if I buy you a drink, Miss Sommers?" The way he spoke her name, with that hint of a smile in his voice, sent a thrill down her spine. She hadn't seen him this close since their brief interactions during her Formula 2 days nearly two years ago, and she had to admit—under the dimmed lobby lights—the years had treated him well. His eyes twinkled with a mischief that seemed to have only grown with age from his iconic days with Brawn.

"Mr. Button," she replied, her voice a soft purr, the slight buzz she carried with her from the shot of tequila Lando had convinced her to take earlier providing a humming tease to her accent. "I could never turn down a free drink."

The bartender, a young man with a wide-eyed smile in awe of the surrounding wealth, nodded at Jenson before crafting an elegant cocktail. The shaker rattled with ice against glass, a mixture of mint and lime swirling before Michaela's eyes. Jenson's own never left hers as he took the drink from the bartender, passing it to her with a nod.

"To your podium," he said, his voice smooth and direct like the whiskey in his own glass.

Michaela took the offered cocktail as a tremble of anticipation ripped through her spine. "Thank you," she whispered.

Her voice went weak as their fingertips brushing against each other's, sending a spark of excitement through her body. She took a sip, the cool cocktail a welcome contrast to the heat rising within her. She watched him over the rim of her glass, his eyes drinking in her presence. The touch of their fingers lingered in the air, unspoken words hanging like a promise between them.

"How have you been?" Jenson asked, his voice a low rumble that seemed to resonate through the marble floor and up her exposed legs. "I feel like I haven't really seen you this close since..." His words trail off as he catches sight of the silver 'O' that gleamed against her brown skin in dip between her clavicle bones.

Michaela took a deep breath, her heart racing as she felt his gaze linger on the necklace that Olivier had given her. It was a simple token of love, a reminder of the life she had waiting for her outside of the racing world. But, at this moment, it felt like a reminder of the invisible string tightening around her neck. She set the cocktail down, the chilled glass leaving a wet ring on the bar. "I've been busy," she replied, a chuckle leaving her lips in a whisper only heard between the two of them.

"Busy making history and such?" Jenson released a chuckle of his own. Michaela nodded softly, her eyes leaving his for the first time since he approached the Australian. Unable to keep her eyes away from his figure for too long, they lifted back up to his baby blues. The smile lines framed his face as if the borders of a portrait.

"It's quite the life to live, isn't it?" she said, her voice filled with a mix of exhaustion and excitement. The chuckles grew into laughter between them, the sound echoing through the bar as they reminisced about their early days in the sport, exchanging stories of the grueling training and the relentless pursuit of just one less millisecond. The whiskey in Jenson's glass swirled in rhythm with their conversation, the golden liquid reflecting the flickering candlelight adorning the sides of the bar like a liquid fire. A fire that mimicked the one filling her to the brim with a tensioned heat.

Michaela felt a strange, overwhelming comfort in Jenson's presence, one that was oddly familiar yet thrillingly new. His stories of his own glory days painted a picture of a man who had been where she was, a man who understood the highs and lows of the world she loved so dearly but could hurt her so deeply. A man who understood things Olivier could never dream of understanding.

His words danced around the topic of her personal life, hinting without asking, and she found herself leaning closer, eager to escape the shadow of Olivier's absence.

"You know," Jensen said, his eyes darkening slightly as they searched hers, "Sometimes you need to enjoy the moment, without the noise of everyone else around you." His words brushed against her ear as he leaned down towards her as if selecting his words for her ears alone.

Michaela's heart skipped a beat. The warmth of his breath against her ear sent another shiver of want and anticipation down her spine. "All alone?" she quizzed, her voice a careful whisper. If they remembered they were in a public setting, it didn't show. The curtain of attention surrounding them seemed to fade away as Jenson's fingers reached out to brush gently against Michaela's silver adorned wrist.

"I've got a room upstairs," he offered, his voice a seductive invitation that seemed to dance on the very edge of propriety and good behavior. "It's quieter. We can...talk."

Michaela can barely bring herself to laugh at the mischievous glimmer in his eyes in extension of the invitation. "Talk?" Is all she can muster before taking in a deep breath that visibly raises and lowers her chest.

Their eyes lock in an answer as the silence stretches out between them, charged with the weight of their unspoken desires. The room seems to hold its breath, the laughter and chatter of the celebrations fading away into a very distant hum.

Michaela's hand lingers on her cocktail, her fingertips leaving their prints on the glass. She considers his proposal, the promise of a private, intimate space calling to her in a way that she hadn't anticipated being so keen to accept. The hotel room upstairs, a sanctuary from the prying eyes of her colleagues, various C-listers, and the sponsors that adorn the sides of their carbon fiber machines. The suffocating weight of her own thoughts leaves her with little breath to gasp. With Olivier so far away, the choice—so close to her—feels almost irresistible.

Jenson's hand moved from its place atop the bar to Michaela's waist. His touch was feather-light as it brushed over the material of her satin mini-dress. The action is casual as if he had no worry about the prying eyes that Michaela tended to draw over to her considering her position in the sport. Tonight of all nights was a night she should have been on her best behavior. She should have been circling the room, schmoozing with the donors, and sharing glasses of champagne with her much drunker rivals. Instead, she was held captive to Jenson's wiles. The heat of his gaze as it swept over her figure drew a heat into her face.

Suddenly she was grateful for the low lighting of the crowded hotel lobby.

Then, with a nod of her head, she set her cocktail down and allowed him to lead her away from the thrumming bar. His hand slipped to the small of her back, a gesture that felt far too intimate for the public atmosphere of the after-party dedicated to her success. The warmth of his palm sizzled through the too-thin fabric of her black dress and the coolness of the air-conditioned lobby did little to dissipate the heat sizzling between the two drivers.

The elevator ride to his suite was an eternity, the air thick with unspoken desire. The gentle rock of their movements as they ascended in the elevator seemed to mirror the tumultuous waves crashing within her. Her mind was a whirlwind of thoughts, a tornado of 'what if' and 'should I' that she couldn't quite contain.

As if he sensed the uneasiness that permeated through the younger woman, Jenson's hands grasped her body, pulling her flush against his solid physicality. Releasing her for a split moment, his steady hands reached for her lowered chin. Pulling her attention back onto him, there was no need for words to be exchanged in the quiet elevator. Within another split second, his lips were on hers in a heated dance.

Michaela's eyes fluttered shut as she felt her knees buckle into his embrace. Her hands found his shirt, gripping tightly as if it were the only thing keeping her from falling into the abyss of temptation that was Jenson Button. The action only brought him closer to her, pushing her infinitely closer to danger. His kiss was everything she hadn't known she craved: firm, confident, and hungry for more, more, more. It was a stark contrast to Olivier's smooth pecks, which had grown routine with time.

Desperate to feel impossibly closer, Michaela's fingers tangled in his dirty blonde locks. Wisps of her white manicured nails interlocked within his curls as her head fell back against the elevator walls with a moan. His lips attached themselves to the edge of her jaw, leaving sloppy kisses down the column of her neck. His right hand raised to cup one of her breasts, drawing another gasp of his name from her lips raw from the hungry kisses they shared. With a growl, Jenson grasped the back of her thighs, squeezing with an urgency unfamiliar to Michaela. Another moan and their lips were back together, Jenson's hands wandering along her backside squeezing occasionally before chuckling at her surprised whines and whispers.

When the elevator chimed, signaling their arrival, they broke apart, unwilling and breathless. The corridor was a blur as Jensen guided her to his suite, his hand never leaving her lower back as if she were a piece of art he was afraid to smudge. As they finally reached his door, Jenson maneuvered the smaller woman to stand in front of him. One hand fumbled for his key card while the other dipped underneath the skirt of her dress, gently playing with the hem of her lace panties. Michaela's hands reached up behind her, embedding themselves in Jenson's golden salted locks, tugging against them whenever his fingers swept against her heated skin.

"Jens," She gasped with a moan as a finger slipped into her underwear to toy at her folds. Her eyes rolled back as the anticipation of his touch crashed over her like a wave.

His response was a sultry, "I know", that makes her lose all sense of direction.

"If you don't get this door open..." She began to threaten. The words die on her lips as he presses his cock against her backside, the force pushing her against the locked door.

"Fuck..." She drawled out with another desperate moan, her hands falling to rest in front of her, steadying herself after the sudden movement.

"If I don't get this door open, I'll fuck you right here against this door for everyone to see." Jenson offered with a threat of his own. Feeling her arousal as it seeped through the delicate lace was enough to help him find the strength to wrestle the door open finally.

The door closed with a gentle click behind them, and suddenly, the world outside was gone. The noises of the hotel were swallowed up by the thick carpet beneath her heels. The weight of their encounter grew heavier in the quiet, luxurious room all the way up on the fifteenth floor.

Michaela looked around the suite, her eyes wide with a mix of awe and anticipation. The grandeur of the space was lost on her as Jensen's hand found hers, leading her through the dark space. The lights of the city center below them flooded into the room with a romantic light. Her heart raced, her thoughts racing faster than the car she'd driven onto podium position earlier that day—or the day before—she wasn't sure she could think clearly with the haze of lust lingering over her. The room was bathed in a soft, golden glow that reflected off the polished surfaces, giving the space a warm, inviting feel. The king-sized bed at the center was untouched, the sheets a crisp white, a stark contrast to the dirty thoughts swirling between them.

Jenson's hand slid around her waist, his thumb tracing the line of her hipbone as they approached the edge of the crisp bed. He pushed her gently, and she fell backward, the mattress enveloping her in a cloud of lust. He stood over her, his body a shadow in the dim light, his eyes burning into her wide-eyed soul. The warmth of his hands as they slid up her legs sent a delicious shiver through her body, drawing an exhale out of her that brought a smirk to his face. The way he looked at her, like she was the only thing in the world that mattered, made her feel powerful, desired—like she could conquer any race he put her in.

He leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to her inner thigh. The tender touch sent waves of heat through her body, pooling at her core. She squirmed beneath him, eager and begging for more, but he took his sweet time.

"Patience, my love." He hummed against her skin. A longing whine left her lips before she could process the sensation he sent wracking through her.

His teeth grazed her sensitive skin, the light pressure making her arch up into his touch. Her hands found his hair again, tugging him closer, urging him on. His tongue followed the path his hand had laid, circling the edge of her panties before slipping them off.

Michaela's breath caught in her throat as she watched him spread her legs, his eyes never leaving hers. She felt vulnerable and exposed in the best way possible, as if she were laying bare not just her body but her soul. His mouth was a warm promise against her flesh, the contrast of his soft tongue against her sensitive skin driving her wild. She could feel her arousal growing, coating his lips as he kissed and licked at her.

"God," He groaned against her. The vibrations of his words sent shocks through her as her head pressed back deeper into the lush pillows beneath her. "You taste so good for me." Lost in a daze of need, Michaela could barely find the words to respond to his praise.

The first touch of his tongue to her clit was electric, sending a jolt through her that made her back arch off the bed. Her hands tightened in his hair, urging him to continue, as she let out a guttural moan. Still without words to respond to him, Jenson took his sweet time, teasing her mercilessly with his mouth, exploring every inch of her until she was panting and begging for more.

The tension grew unbearable, her body tightening like a coil ready to snap. "Stay still for me." He muttered between kisses to her most sensitive parts. "Wanna make you feel good. Gonna make you feel real good." The whispers exchanged between their ears only served to increase the intimacy of the situation.

As Jenson's hips pressed into the bed to relieve the stiffness of his straining cock, Michaela's eyes opened to meet his staring back up at her from between her open legs.

"Fuck—" She sobbed at the sight.

"Hmm, ah!" She cried as his thumb reached out to draw circles into the sensitive bundle of nerves.

"Yeah?" He drew out, pulling her legs impossibly wider as they threatened to close around his head.

Michaela still couldn't find the words to respond, her body lost in the intensity of sensations he brought as he worked her over. The strokes of his tongue grew faster, harder, each one bringing her closer to the edge. Her nails dug into his scalp, her body writhing under his seasoned touch. The room filled with the sounds of her gasps and moans, a sweet soundtrack that grew louder as she neared climax.

As her legs began to shake, Michaela released a high pitched moan, one that instantly drew a groan out of Jenson in shock her voice could sound that whiny, that desperate, for him.

"Shit! I'm gonna—" Her words cut off once more as the trembles ripping through her signaled she was close to her first orgasm. "Please don't stop." She hummed, almost babbling nonsense as Jenson worked through the thread that threatened to snap inside the pit of her belly.

He hummed from between her legs, "That's it, love." His head raised from its position as his fingers replaced his lips. Fucking into her walls at a pace that leaves her unable to form any kind of discernable sentence.

Her eyes rolled back in her head, and her teeth sank into her bottom lip as she stifled a scream. The orgasm ripped through her like a tornado, leaving her body trembling with the aftershocks of pleasure. He watched her, his eyes hooded with desire as he stroked her through it, his hand moving almost lazily.

"Good girl," He whispered out into the night. As his head dipped down at the feeling of a sudden chill he realizes Michaela's wetness has dripped down over his fingers. A gentle, "Fuck, Michaela, baby, you're dripping all over me."

With a laugh, Michaela comes down from her high suddenly shy in the older man's arms.

"It's just my way of complimenting you." She giggled before running a manicured hand through her tousled dyed locks.

Her face flushed in half embarrassment and half lust as she pushed herself up onto her elbows to watch Jenson lift his arousal coated fingers to his lips. He kept a hold over her attention as he sucked her essence from his fingers before rising from his spot on the bed to stand on his feet.

"Think you can do it again on my cock?" He mused with a raised eyebrow. With a playful roll of her eyes, Michaela nodded, unable to respond verbally—that seemed to be a recurring theme.

Catching her completely off guard with a squeal, Jenson pulled her by her bare legs to the edge of the bed. Stood in between her wide legs, he begins to work at the buttons of his pressed dress shirt. At the sight of the former champion undressing, Michaela finds the strength to rise to her feet. The four inches Jenson has over her are just enough for her hands to bat his away to undo the buttons herself.

Her careful fingers make quick work of the shirt, pushing it off his shoulders and revealing the chiseled abs and the dusting of hair that trails from his chest down to the waistline of his trousers. She runs her hand over his stomach, feeling the muscles beneath her touch. His eyes lock onto hers, and she sees that familiar hunger back in his gaze, the same hunger that she feels return deep within her core.

"I'm all yours, superstar." He whispers into her ear as his head dips to attach his lips to the length of her neck. "Take me however you want. Just wanna celebrate you for being so good." 

His words coupled with his actions sent another wave of arousal crashing over the Alfa Romeo driver. 

"So talented." He adds, accenting the compliment with a kiss that sweeps Michaela away from whatever thoughts she had left in her distracted head.

Her hands fumble with the buckle of his belt, a task she hadn't done in what feels like an eternity. The clink of the metal echoes around the room as it hits the carpeted floor. A thrill runs through her as she feels his hard cock pressing against her stomach through the fabric of his boxers. Her eyes never leave his as she takes the fabric in her hands and pulls it down, freeing him to stand tall before her.

Michaela's breath hitches in her throat at the sight of him. Jensen is a beautiful man, sculpted by the years of rigorous physical training and his unmistakable British charm. Her eyes take in the full length of him, a silent appreciation before she takes him in one of her hands.

"You're so pretty," She murmured out to him as he released a hiss in reaction to the soft touch to his stiff length.

"Me or my cock?" He spoke mirthfully as he relished in the feeling of one of her hands on his sensitive muscle and the other finding a familiar place in his tousled graying hair.

"Both." Michaela responded with the most decisiveness in her voice since they had arrived upstairs. They share another laugh before Jenson moans out loud for the first time all night.

With a flutter of kisses to the length of his strong, clenched jaw, Michaela took in the sight of him all pliant in her grasp. The man in front of her was straight out of a fantasy. Never in all her years of pining over the man did she ever envision herself in his position. Blissed out of her mind from his fingers and drawing him to the edge of orgasm.

Jenson's hands found the zipper of her dress, pulling it down her body with a gentle force. As she watched him, her chest rose and fell with every shallow breath as the fabric fell away, exposing her naked body to the coolness of the room. Her hand stilled on his cock as he gathered her straightened hair into a makeshift ponytail. With a forceful yank, he pressed her naked body against his, slipping his tongue into her mouth as it fell open with a moan.

The light kisses grew into a trail of heat down her collarbone and over the swell of her breasts. His tongue flicked over one of her nipples, sending a shiver down her spine as it hardened to a tight peak. A manicured hand reached down to cup at one of his heavy balls, a mixture of their moans mingling into a dance in the heavy air.

Michaela took the opportunity to guide him backward until he laid on the edge of the bed. She dropped to her knees on either side of his hips, her body hovering over his. Her eyes never left his as she took his length into her grasp. The feel of him pressing into her soaked cunt was intoxicating, the sound of his labored breathing music to her ears.

With a gentle squeeze of his base, she began to slide down his cock. The feeling of him stretching her was nothing short of glorious, the burn of his size between her thighs a delicious punishment for the temptations she had been resisting from the moment his eyes locked on hers downstairs in the bar. With a whiny groan, she took him in inch by inch, her eyes fluttering closed in ecstasy.

"That's it, baby." He encouraged her as she took him in. His strong hands grasped at the skin of her waist, gently providing an aid to guide her down, filling her to the brim. As she bottomed out, they both released a share of breath they had both held in.

Michaela began to rock her hips in a steady swirl that grew more desperate with every second. Jenson's eyes rolled back in his head, his moans growing louder as she worked herself over him. The sound of his pleasure drew sounds of her own as she began to bounce over him gently. One of his hands drift down to palm at her firm ass, squeezing at the skin before catching her completely off guard with a spank to the perky muscle. Her abs contract as a loud moan rips through her throat to goad her on to bounce faster in pursuit of a shared high.

Their rhythm grew to match the beating of their hearts—fast and erratic. The bed squeaked beneath them, the headboard slamming against the wall in a pattern that surely could be heard outside the suite. But neither of them cared. The only thing that mattered was the view of each other, blissed out, horny, and chasing the high that seemed to be within their fingertips.

"I'm so close, baby." Jenson grunts, his head falling back against the pillows as his hands squeeze at Michaela's curves. "Come for me, yeah? Be a good fucking girl and come all over me." His words only serve to push Michaela further to the brink of total insanity, the only thing relevant in her mind is the pursuit of pleasure.

"Wanna be good for you," She whined, "Need to come for you." Jenson hummed in appreciation as a hand reached between their bodies to toy with her overstimulated clit.

Michaela's eyes rolled back, her mouth falling open as she began to feel the beginnings of another earth-shattering orgasm. She threw her head back, her hair falling over her shoulders, and her moans grew louder with every thrust.

Jenson's words of encouragement did little to quiet the loud moans that escaped Michaela's mouth. Her hips stuttered above his as she ground down into him before the current of her orgasm ripped through her totally.

"Jens—Jens—Oh my fucking god, Jens—" She stuttered, her voice growing higher pitched with every passing second. Her nails dug into the skin of his chest, leaving red marks that stood out against his tanned skin.

With one final, powerful thrust, Jenson felt himself let go. His cock twitched inside her, filling her up with ropes of his warm, thick cum. The feeling of her pussy tightening around him as she came was more than he could handle. He groaned her name into the darkness, his eyes rolling back as his hips jerked upward involuntarily. Michaela's thighs held him hostage as she continued to whine out into the dark, completely uninhibited by the warm rush of her orgasm as it coursed through her.

Her walls tightened around him as she milked him for every drop of his cum. The warmth of his release inside her only heightened her own pleasure as it sent aftershocks through her body. She collapsed onto him, her breasts pressed against his chest as she struggled to catch her breath. His arms wrapped around her, holding her tightly as their hearts raced together. He murmured faint words of appreciation into her ear as his palms pressed into her sweaty back, massaging the knots from the strain of her two orgasms.

Their bodies remained intertwined for several moments, basking in the afterglow. The room was silent except for their heavy breaths and the occasional twitch of his cock inside her. The smell of sex filled the air, thick and potent, a stark contrast to the prior freshness of the untouched hotel suite.

Michaela leaned her forehead against Jenson's neck, feeling the pulse of his heart beneath her skin. "I can't believe that just happened." She whispered, her voice still strained from the exertion.

Jenson could only laugh in response, his hand still traced patterns over her brown skin. "I heard you had a major crush on me back in the day. I figured I'd test the waters, see if that crush still held up." When he received a scoff in return as Michaela slowly freed herself from his hold to lay to his side, Jenson laughed again.

"I'm serious!"

"Don't flatter yourself too much, Button," She grinned up at him. "I just wanted to thank you for the drink. You know, properly."

Jenson's eyes sparkled with mischief as he leaned down to kiss her forehead. "You're welcome, Sommers. Anytime you need celebrating, you know where to find me."

Michaela couldn't help but laugh, the sound light and airy. "I'll keep that in mind." She rolled onto her side to observe the outline of his features. The warmth of his body left a ghostly imprint on the cooling sheets. The silence that followed was filled with a new kind of tension, one that was more comfortable, more intimate than the frantic passion that had brought them to this moment.

Jenson's fingers trailed lazily over her bare shoulder, sending shivers down her spine. "So, what's next for you?" He asked, breaking the quiet.

Michaela took a deep breath, trying to steady her racing heart. "The Russian Grand Prix, in two weeks." She said, her voice still a little breathless. "I need to keep this momentum going, prove I'm not just a one-hit wonder."

Jenson nodded, his hand still playing with the sensitive skin of her shoulder. "And what about the boyfriend?" He asked, his voice a gentle caress despite the panic that sets into her body.

Michaela swallowed hard, the mention of Olivier bringing a sharpness to the air. She couldn't hide the shock she felt when she realized that Jenson knew more about her than she had previously thought. "What about him?" She asked, trying to keep the tremble out of her voice.

Jenson leaned in, his mouth grazing her ear as he whispered, "Is he going to be okay with this?" He didn't miss the way her body stiffened at the question, the way her breath hitched. "I know you're an adult, love, but I want to make sure you're not going to get hurt."

Michaela rolled onto her back, looking up at the ceiling, her chest still heaving from their exertion. She bit her lip, thinking for a moment before speaking. "It's complicated." She finally said. "But I can handle it."

Jenson studied her for a moment before nodding his head. "I know you can." He leaned in to kiss her cheek before sitting up and swinging his legs over the side of the bed. "But remember, if you ever need anything—anything at all—I'm here for you."

Michaela felt a pang of something she couldn't quite identify. Gratitude? Lust? The aftermath of their encounter had left her feeling more than a little vulnerable. She watched him as he walked naked across the suite to grab a bottle of water from the minibar. The moonlight played over the muscles of his back, highlighting the scars from years of racing.

"Thanks, Jenson." She murmured, taking the bottle from his outstretched hand. "For everything."

He settled back onto the bed beside her, his cock still half-hard from their encounter just moments before. "Don't worry about me." He took a swig from the bottle before passing it back to her. "You deserve to be celebrated."

Michaela took a sip, the cool water soothing her parched throat. She couldn't help but feel a twinge of guilt at the thought of Olivier so far away doing God knows what instead of being at her side. "What about you?" She asked, changing the subject. "What's next for you?"

Jenson took another gulp from the bottle before setting it aside. "Well, I'm technically retired from racing now," he said with a shrug. "But I've got plenty of things to keep me busy. Commentary, appearances, the occasional Le Mans race. It's a calmer life." His eyes searched hers, a silent question hanging in the air.

Michaela nodded, understanding the unspoken inquiry. "Yeah, I can imagine. Must be a big change after being in the thick of it for so long." As Jenson considered his response, he drew the Alfa Romeo driver into his body. With her head rested upon his broad chest, he pulled one of her thighs to rest over his. Then, hand found hers, threading their fingers together.

"It is, but I don't miss the pressure. It's nice to be able to enjoy the sport without the weight of the world on my shoulders."

Michaela nodded, her mind racing with questions about his life outside of Formula 1. "What's it like? Watching from the sidelines?"

Jenson's thumb traced circles over the back of her hand, the gesture brought an unfamiliar comfort to her conscience. "It's different, sure," he said, his eyes drifting to the floor-to-ceiling windows that showcased the moonlit Tuscan landscape. "But I've had my time in the spotlight. Now, I get to enjoy the sport in a new way."

Michaela turned to face him, propping herself up on her elbow. "Do you ever miss it?" She asked, curiosity lacing her voice.

Jenson looked at her, the corner of his mouth tilting upward in a small smile. "Every now and then," he admitted. "But I've had my time in the sun. Now, I get to see the next generation take over and make their own history." His eyes searched hers, a hint of admiration sparkling in his gaze. "And you, my darling, are going to be a big part of that history."

Michaela felt a blush creep up her face at his words, her heart swelled with a mix of pride and bashfulness. She knew she had more than enough talent, but the fear of not living up to the hype of being the first was always present. "Thanks," she whispered, her voice thick with emotion.

"You're welcome," he replied, his own voice a little hoarse from their earlier passion. He leaned over to kiss her forehead gently. The heat in Michaela's cheeks only continued to warm. "But it's not just my opinion. You're genuinely brilliant behind the wheel. I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone drive with the precision you have."

The truth in his words washed over her, filling her with a warmth that had nothing to do with the post-orgasm glow. "Thank you," she whispered, her eyes shimmering with emotion. "That means a lot coming from you."

Jenson's smile grew, his eyes tender as they searched hers. "You know, I always had a soft spot for you, even when you were tearing it up in F2 against Leclerc." He leaned in closer, his breath warm against her cheek. "You've got a fire in you, Mick. Don't ever let anyone dull it. Not even that idiot you call a boyfriend."

Michaela felt the weight of his words, a strange mix of comfort and accusation that sent a shiver down her spine. "You don't know him," she murmured defensively, even though she knew he was right.

"Maybe not," Jenson conceded lowly, "But he should be here with you. I know what it's like to love this sport. And if he doesn't support you, if he doesn't understand what you're fighting for, then he's not the one for you."

Michaela remained silent, his words echoing through the quiet hotel room. The cool breeze from the open window blew with the curtains, the only sound aside from their measured breathing. The truth in his statement stung, but she couldn't deny the truth in his support, the way his arms felt around her, and the comfort in his voice. She knew that Olivier had his own ambitions, his own disappointments with his racing career to work through, but they were starting to feel like they were in different worlds.

Taking a deep breath, she let out a sigh that seemed to carry the weight of her thoughts. "I know," she murmured, her eyes drifting back to the ceiling. "But it's complicated."

A moment of silence enveloped the two lovers before Michaela's eyes drifted back to see Jenson's eyes already focused on her face. Pushing aside her shyness as she offered a hummed joke, "He's French. Everything's complicated with them."

Jenson's chuckle rumbled in his chest, sending a thrill through her as she felt his hand caress her bare side. "Well, you're a woman in Formula 1. I'd say you know a thing or two about complicated." His hand grew bolder, stroking her hip, pulling her closer.

Michaela couldn't help but smile at his words, feeling a sense of calm with him that she hadn't felt with anyone else. "You're not wrong," she said, her voice a little shaky.

Jenson leaned over, kissing her gently on the lips, the taste of her own slick still lingering on his mouth. "If you need anything, you know where to find me," he whispered as his thumb brushed against her tanned cheek.

Michaela nodded, her eyes fluttering closed as she savored the touch. She knew that she was playing with fire, but the warmth of his embrace felt too good to resist. "What happens next?" she asked, her voice a soft whisper against the stillness of the night.

Jenson leaned back, his eyes never leaving hers. "Whatever you want, my love," he replied, his voice a gentle caress. "Whatever you want."

Michaela felt a thrill run through her at his words. Her hand trailed down his chest, playing with the patch of hair that grew from his navel to his pelvis. "I want you," she murmured, the words coming out with surprising ease.

Jenson's eyes darkened with desire, and he rolled her onto her back, positioning himself between her legs. He took his time, kissing her neck and her collarbone, his teeth lightly grazing her skin. His cock was already on the way to being hard again, a testament to his endurance. "I'm all yours," he breathed against her ear, his hands cupping her face as he stared into her eyes.

✼. taglist:⠀

@cha-hot @certifiedlesbianbaddie @nichmeddar

@d3kstar @thewannabewriter @hwalllllllelujah

@thearchieves @doodlehunz @evie-119

@bxdbxtxh @seaweed-orchid @glitterquadricorn

@99snse @ginghampearlsnsweettea @alliwantisadonut

@hiireadstuff @emilyval1 @anotherblackreader

@sv5beehives @mynameisangeloflife @tellybearyyyy

@melancholyy-hill @vallusvsu @futuristiccroissantlampsludge

@treehouse-mouse @sunfairyy

[celestisnothere]

Did one for ch251 I NEED TO DO ONE FOR CHAPTER 252

Because WHAT THE FUCK

VERY LONG POST AHEAD!!

HEAVY 252 SPOILERS!!!

LIKE WE DID HAVE SOME ANSWERS ABOUT THE WHOLE ALLEN SITUATION

BUT THE FUCK YOU MEAN "LAVI" WAS THERE?????

IS THAT "LAVI" OUR LAVI?

Like knowing the power Apocryphos has and how that's how Past!Allen became our Allen w/o remembering. It could very much be that it was Our!Lavi and just shared that same fate bc he got hit in the aftermath when trying to save Past!Allen as this chapter just showed us

But also since "Lavi" is just a name Bookman gave to their successor for the mission, it could be they aren't the same Lavi.

BUT it's too much of a coincidence both "Lavi"s had the same name when meeting their respective Allen's so....... The Bookman knew what he was doing when he gave Our!Lavi the "Lavi" name for the Black Order mission, that Old Man.

ALSO if it turns out to be Our!Lavi and just got hit (which would explain why the Bookman spent years finding the "new" successor).

LIKE IT WOULD MAKE SO MUCH SENSE!

Bc we saw that other!Lavi (to call him something) didn't wear a eyepatch and had a huge scar over the eye that Our!Lavi covers with an eyepatch.

Bc we know form the previous chapter that the Bookman took Our!Lavi as successor when he saw his eye (the eyepatch covered one) bc it had some sort of marking (almost literal words) that marked him as the Bookman Successor.

So the years the Bookman spent looking for his new successor, he was actually looking for the same successor and when he saw Our!Lavi as a kid, he actually saw the scar and *realized* that the kid was the successor that deflected all those years ago (since the other!Lavi deflected after meeting nea and wanted to offer himself as his new host).

BUT IF ALL THAT IS TRUE IT STILL DOESN'T EXPLAIN WHY THERE'S A 20-SOMETHING YEARS GAP (35years in our current timeline minus Our!Lavi's age) BETWEEN THAT HAPPENING AND THE BOOKMAN FINDING OUR!LAVI AS A 6YO AND TAKING HIM IS AS THE NEW SUCCESSOR

NOR THE ALSO 20-SOMETHING GAP (35years in our current timeline minus Our!Allen's age) BETWEEN IT AND OUR!ALLEN BEING AT THE CIRCUS AS RED (SINCE HE WAS AROUND 5YO IIRC).

Because the whome de-aging only took moments (minutes at most) or so it seemed.

Unless that's what seemed to us and it actually took several years just in stasis for some sort of Innocence wacky explanation.

AND NOW I HAVE TO WAIT 3 MONTHS OR SO FOR MORE ANSWERS?????

EITHER WAY NO MATTER WHAT A WIN FOR ME SPECIFICALLY BECAUSE

LONG HAIRED LAVI IS CANON!!!

ALSO LET ME POST A SIDE-BY-SIDE OF OTHER!LAVI AND OUR!LAVI BC I AM STRAING AT THE SIMILARITIES

And the SIDE-BY-SIDE WITH THE OUR!LAVI LOOK THAT MSKES ME THINKS THE POSSIBILITIES LF THEM BEING THE SAME PERSON ARE VERY HIGH

LIKE AM I BEING CRAZY OR DO THEY LOOK VERY VERY SIMILAR DOWN TO THE FUCKING EARINGS????

[miyaniacs]

Corrupted by Darkness

- Chapter 1 -

Intro ; Wattpad

A/N: Hey :) Yes I’m forcing myself to write again… and if I wouldn’t update it immediately I’ll never update - so yes maybe there’ll be some some adjustments / reuploads. Still I hope you enjoy it. The next chapter will be a bit more story heavy - Thank you for reading it! <3

“YIELDDD” the blond haired guy yells. Getting up with a smirk, you take his dagger and leave the mat.

“Well that was … personal?” Rhi looks at me.

“I don’t even remember his name?” I look at her confused.

“I’m not talking about Leon.” She smirks and looks across the room, towards a shirtless Xaden… and Eve.

How is it possible that she’s always glued to him?

And why aren’t you glued to him?

‘Ohh shut up.’

Maybe he takes her because he can’t have you?

‘I look nothing like her? And before - I’m not jealous. I’m just forced to spend time with him and she’s always there.’

Uhuuu

‘NOCTIS!’

“Hellooooo? Earth at Nea?” Ridoc waves his hand infront of your face.

“Sorry sorrrryyy”

“Class is over - and we’re finally free!”

“For the day.” Liam sighs as he walks over towards your group.

“Aren’t you the most energetic out of all of us?” Rhi raises her eyebrows.

“OMG LIAM!” Ridoc fake gasps, “who’s the lucky one?”

“That you should ask Nea.”

And now all their eyes are fixed on me. I really should have remembered that his room is right next to his.

“Non of your business.” I smirk at them and start to make your way out of gym.

“No no nooo not so fast.” Rhi hurries next to you, quickly followed by Ridoc on your other side.

“There’s nothing to say.”

Sure there isn’t

‘Could you please stay out of this?

Hey you were the one involving me in it last night.

‘I already apologized for it didn’t I?’

I am still traumatized

‘Not my fault that you don’t get laid.’

Excuse me?! Maybe I just know how to keep you out of it?

‘And now I know for sure that you don’t get laid.’

“Sorry guys but it’s a secret.”

“Ok but was it good?” Rhi asks.

“Sounded like it was.” Liam laughs from behind us.

“… could we not discuss this right now.” I beg and rub my temples.

“And what should we discuss then?” Ridoc smirks and looks at me.

Rolling my eyes I glare at him: “ Well how about we discuss our next history test?” I smile innocently, while he groans.

“Why don’t we discuss the whole Eve thematic again?” Liam asks and pushes between me and Ridoc.

“There is nothing more to discuss. Her family is friends with people my family isn’t really … found of.”

“And she’s a bitch that thinks she’s better than us just because she’s a fae - no offense Nea.” Rhi adds.

“Non taken.” I laugh.

“And that’s why she doesn’t like you?” Ridoc asks.

“Yup this and the fact I’m friends with someone she desperately wants to fuck.” I laugh.

“What? Why haven’t any of you told me that she wants to fuck me? I know she’s a bitch but I wouldn’t say no…” Liam fake gasps.

“No Liam we’re talking about someone who’s actually attractive and doesn’t just have a big ass ego.” Rhiannon laughs.

“Ouch. That hurts Rhi.” Liam puts his hand over his heart and pouts.

“Nawww Liam… you know I wouldn’t say no to you - If you weren’t one of my friends.” I laugh.

“Thanks it helps hearing this from the hottest Fae around.” He smiles and puts his arm around my shoulder.

“Well… I loved this conversation, but my bed calls me.” Wiggling out of his ��hug” I stop in front of my room.

“If you need any company - just call me, the walls are thin.” He winks and opens the door to his own room.

“See you at dinner?” Rhi asks while she and Ridoc walk towards their own rooms.

“Yes see you there!”

Closing the door I immediately take off my clothes and put on the big shirt Azriel left me last night.

As soon as my head hits my bed my mind wanders off to the events of last night.

Closing my eyes the image of Azriels face appears. It was always different between us.

While Rhys quickly became a father figure for me, Cassian and Mor immediately adopted me as a little sister. But Azriel… I was 15 when Rhys brought me with him and introduced me to his family.

Azriel was always cold and closed off, he avoided talking to me if not necessary, always had someone else with us when he trained me. Things changed on my 19th birthday. Mor was throwing a party for me, inviting everyone including my boyfriend at that time - to make it short he cheated on me that night … in my room… my bed.

While running away from him and the party I ran into Azriel… when I told him what happened something snapped inside of him and let’s just say I woke up next to him that morning… and the morning after… and after … and -

I get it. Please stop thinking about it.

‘Then stay out of my head.’

‘Hey Noctis?’

Yes little shadow?

‘Do you think it’s more than just sex for him?’

Is it for you?

‘…no.. I mean… he’s a close friend, so obviously I care for him…’

And you’re sure that’s all?

‘Noctis. I’m here and he’s in Velaris. Even if I wanted it to be more, it wouldn’t work out.’

And why not? He’s already visiting you.

‘I - He- yes..’

But?

‘Nothing… I should sleep now.’

Sure little shadow.

Wake up. Nea. Wake up. NEA!

I wake up to a voice in my head that isn’t Noctis and feel a hand placed over my mouth and start to panic, searching for the weapon under my pillow. How did this person get inside of my room? Isn’t my magic working? And why didn’t Noctis wake me up?

“Nea. It’s me.”

That voice… I blink and let my eyes adjust to the darkness in my room.

“Rhys?!” I muffle.

“Oh sorry.” He moves his hand off my face.

“Why are you here?”

“You wanted a care package didn’t you?” He smiles and gestures to my desk, where a big as basket full of food and presents, is placed.

“Thank you. And now why are you really here.”

“… Your letter.”

How could he already got … Azriel tool it with him. I mentally roll my eyes.

“Get dressed.”

“And why should I? It’s 3am?”

“Because I want to see your blood manipulation. So get out of Azriels shirt and come with me to the flight field.”

“How…. How do you?”

“Nea please.” He rolls his eyes and chuckles, “We all know.”

I just stare at him.

All of them?

Yes they all know. Now get dressed. I’ll meet you there.

‘Why are you coming?’

Because I asked him to come.

‘Yes it was planned for me to come before I got your letter’

‘WHY ARE YOU BOTH IN MY HEAD?!’

‘Because you forgot to have your wall up.’ Rhys scowls.

‘But why are you two talking?’

You’re underestimating my powers

‘I thought you’re only allowed to talk to me…’

Do I look like I stick to any rules?

[mykneeshurt]

Lie to me

Inspired by the tv show Lie to me, it’s so good. Two parter - smut in part 2.

Warnings - none really, language.

Ghost x F!Reader

Ghost stood outside the interrogation room, unable to take his eyes off you. His balaclava hid his face when on missions and when back at base, hiding his true expressions. His true intentions. It felt comfortable, hiding his face away from the rest of the world. Closing himself off. That was until you came along.

You were recruited from Dr Lightmans firm, a company that specialised in reading micro expressions. It proved beneficial when dealing with psychopaths, liars and getting information out of someone, fast. Something Ghost came across far too often in his line of work.

———

‘This is Dr Holland, she’ll be working with us on this mission. Get the target here alive. She’ll interrogate him’ Price stated, as he gave you a warm smile. As you darted your eyes across the room they clicked into place with Ghosts. Smiling to your self you sat down and observed the rest of the meeting.

As Ghost went to leave you stopped him. ‘I know you think what I do is bullshit Lieutenant.’ He peered down at you, seemingly unresponsive and emotionless. ‘I didn’t say a word.’ Offering him a smirk you leant up to his ear, your breath fanning across his skin. The smell of your floral, yet musky perfume invaded his senses. The subtle scent of your aura danced in the air between you. ‘You don’t have to Lieutenant. They say the eyes are the window the soul.’

He tensed, watching as you left the room. He didn’t know what he felt. Shock? Surprise? Bemusement? No one had ever been able to read him like that. Not even Price. It was a conversation he replayed over and over again. You captivated him, but also scared him. There was no where he could hide that you wouldn’t find him. For once in his life, he was vulnerable.

———

He watched as you manipulated the conversation, swerving each red herring and lie thrown at your feet. Your own expressions stoic, not giving anything away. ‘Where are you hiding the weapons?’ You asked, eyes trained on the person in front of you. ‘There aren’t any.’

‘I’m unsure why you lie to me.’

‘I’m not.’

‘Fine. Have it your way. Ghost?’ You called out looking over to the glass one way window. The militia member shifted in their seat, a minuscule about, but you clocked it.

Fear.

The door slowly opened, Ghosts’ frame filling the entry way. ‘Seems our friend here would prefer talk to you than me’ you sighed as you stood, brushing out the creases in your jacket. ‘They’re all yours.’ Ghost entered and stood behind them, placing his huge hands on their shoulders. Furrowing their brows they swallowed, shoulders tense, eyes darting round. ‘I don’t know, they don’t tell me where, just that we have them. Please.’ You watched them as they pleaded their case, a tear teased the brim of their eye.

Shirking your head in the direction of the door you signalled for you both to leave. ‘They don’t know anything’ you stated, arms crossed looking at them through the mirror. ‘You’re sure?’ He asked, quizzical. Nodding you sighed. ‘Yeah. Nothing in their expressions tells me they’re lying. Nothing more than a foot solider. Not trusted enough to know specifics.’ Stifling a laugh you sucked your teeth. ‘After all these months you still don’t believe me do you?’

‘Didn’t say anything.’

‘Don’t have to. Like I told you before, you’re more expressive than you think. You hide your face from everyone, but I see you Simon. Really see you. You can’t hide from me.’ A smug smirk tugged at your lips. With that you left him, standing in the lonely interrogation room as you went to inform Price on your findings.

————

Sitting in your office you tried to concentrate on your work, research, case studies etc. A heavy knock at your door pulled you from your work, ‘come in.’ The door swung open and before you even lifted your eyes you knew it was him. His presence was never lost on you, everything shifted when he was near. Dull footsteps approached your desk as two gloved hands placed themselves on the desk. His familiar scent of vanilla and sandalwood with a tinge of gunpowder swallowed you whole. Peering up at him you offered a warm smile, ‘everything ok?’

‘I dunno. Do you think everything’s ok?’ His voice was gravelly, hushed. He was hunched over the desk, the wood creaked beneath his weight. ‘You don’t like how I can read you. You want to know how I do it.’ Leaning back in your chair you motioned for him to sit, but he didn’t. Trying to take a stand against you, not wanting to submit. Accepting this challenge you walked over to your door, shutting it quietly. His broad form gripped onto the desk. Refusing to watch you.

‘Look at me.’ The statement was simple but loaded, he hated how he couldn’t fully read you. He prided himself on his ability to do this, it had saved his life more times than he could count. It gave him the upper hand in the field, but you? Snippets, if anything at all. You approached him from the side, as you would an unpredictable animal. ‘You hide your face insinuating you don’t want to be seen. At least here anyway’ you motioned to the building around you. ‘But emotions are primitive, they’re universal. Contempt. Disgust. Happiness. Love. It’s how we learnt to survive. Reading our environment, discerning friend from foe.’

You shrugged as you sat on the edge of your desk, his thick brown eyes watched you cautiously.

‘Lying for example’ you continued, ‘when we tell the truth our eyes dart around as we try to locate the memory to retell. When we lie we think we should hold eye contact, but it’s an ultimate tell. You’re not looking for the memory, you watch the persons face to see if they’re buying the lie.’ He remained steady, stoic, watching you, regarding you. ‘Like now’ you smirked ‘you’re still trying to decide if you believe or trust me. You know when you do that, you squint your eyes. You don’t even realise you do it, but you do.’

He stood, crossing his arms, pushing his chest out. You tongued your cheek, a cheeky smile on your face. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t love making him feel uncomfortable. Making this 6’4 brute of a man crumble turned you in way more than it should have. Neither of you forgot the first time you were introduced, the months that followed which were torturous. Exchanged glances, touches here and there a deafening longing between the two of you that was finally coming to a head.

You nodded to his arms with a hum ‘annnnd now, you’ve put a barrier between us, trying to shut yourself off. Pushing your chest out because you don’t like being made to feel small, readable.’

Approaching him you placed a soft hand on his forearms ‘relax, I’m not here to intimidate or harm you. I’m just doing a job.’ Slowly he lowered his arms, though he was still tense. He closed the gap between the two of you, backing you up to the desk. For once you gave away how you felt, he clocked it instantly. Placing both hands beside your hips he closed you in, his muscular biceps shutting you off from your office.

Leaning down to your ear his voice was but a whisper, every syllable and letter perfectly annunciated. ‘You may be able to read my face Doc. But I can read your body, I know how wet your cunt gets when I’m around you.’ You choked on air as your breath got lodged in your throat, stuck in the depths of your chest.

For once you were utterly speechless, suffocating in the little space there was between your bodies. The artery on your neck pulsated with defiance and lust.

Placing two fingers under your chin he forced you to look at him, a slight heat rose in your cheeks. ‘So responsive’ he whispered, glaring down at you under hooded lids. Prick was smirking under his mask. ‘I’ve seen how you look at me, how your body reacts when i get close to you.’ His face was tantalisingly close to yours, feeling every word he spoke ricochet off your lips.

You swallowed, hard. Your throat bobbed as a sharp inhale passed your lips, filling your oxygen starved lungs. He let out a satisfied grunt before turning on his heel throwing you a smug look before shutting the door behind him. A smile of disbelief shot across your lips, cocky bastard.

Your body had betrayed you.

꧂

A/N - I love this idea but I don’t think I’ve written it as well as I would have liked tbh.

[sorcharavenlock]

10. Just Another Manic Monday

"I can't stand those stupid internet lists," I grumble. I woke up in a mood. "Top Ten Most Attractive Avengers! Really?!"

"Please tell me Thor is not listed," Loki rolls his eyes.

"Number one, every single time. It's not even fair when half of his competition wears a mask or a helmet!

Besides, he's not even that handsome, to be honest. I mean, I can see why some people would find him attractive, but it's clear who got the best looks in your family."

I have to stop myself from slapping my hand over my mouth. Did I say that out loud?

Loki turns from bright green to bright pink. Did I just make a ghost blush?

After breakfast, I sit down to write. Loki is quiet, and I presume he's studying in the basement.

When I go to make a cup of tea, however, I find him in the kitchen.

"What are you doing?" I ask.

"This contraption is absolutely fascinating!" Loki declares. "It keeps spinning around, tumbling your garments through soapy water!"

"Wait, you've never seen a washing machine before?" I ask. "How did you do laundry in Asgard?"

"I didn't, Loki shrugged. "I had servants for that. I simply dropped my clothing on the floor and I'd find them clean in my wardrobe eventually."

I think for a moment. Getting Loki to help with the chores has been difficult. I suddenly have a cunning plan!

"Well, I'd prefer it if you wouldn't touch the machine. It is complicated and expensive equipment, and I do'nt think it's a good idea for you to operate it."

Loki frowns. "I have you know I was using far more advanced technology long before you were borne! Surely I am more than capable of operating this one!"

"I do'nt know..." I hedge, trying to hide a smile.

"Do not insult my intelligence!" Loki snaps.

"Okay, If you think you can handle it, I'll let you work the washing machine. I trust you."

Loki smiles smugly, happy he got his way.

I show him how to open the machine when it's done and how to add the laundry and detergent.

"You'll have to hang this load out first, after that, you can put the new load in. Call me if you aren't sure what to do!"

"That shall not be needed!" Loki waggles his finger at me.

I leave him guarding the laundry, trying not to smile.

Marianna: 1, god of mischief :0!

Loki spends the rest of his day studying.

In the evening we watch a horror movie together:

After that, I go to bed.

loki however, is suffering from a manic episode and he can not sleep.

First, he practices his magic:

Then he tries to read again, but he can not concentrate. A little while later I wake up to the sound of Heavy Metal.

I find Loki and a friendly spirit rocking out in the sitting room.

"ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR MIND!" I yell.

I turn the music off.

"I can't sleep," Loki complains.

"Then find something quieter!"

Loki returns to the basement. The woodworking table that we moved to make room for his bed catches his eye:

Soon, he's made a little statue.

"This will make a nice surprise for Marianna," He thinks to himself.

Loki places it in the sitting room and steals my phone to send a picture to Nea.

He takes a bunch of selfies as well and hangs them around the sitting room.

Above my desk, so I can look at him all the time!

Loki is pretty pleased with himself.

My PC gets his eye next. Not long after, he sets himself up with a social media profile. He's been looking over my shoulder enough when I was checking mine to know how it works.

He also cleans the cat litter box with magic...

hugs and plays with the cats...

... and takes a selfie with Becca when she gets up:

It is the dawn of another day, and we are still no closer to returning Loki back to life...

[bibeebuneee]

☆》 we could leave the Christmas lights up 'till january 《☆

fluff ☆ just kissing ☆ smoker kei still, but there's no mention of smoking nor cigarettes in this

inspo : lover <> taylor swift (the one and only)

part i , alternate ending coming soon

ㅤThe holidays had finally come. You’re on a phone call with your mother. Your family is planning to move back into your childhood home, now that your parents are retired, they thought city life isn’t the best fit for them anymore. You left for college a long time ago, leaving your home to start a new life. You decided to come visit your family, to help with moving and spend Christmas with them.

ㅤ“Oh and oh my god, I think one of your little friend from school moved next to ours, maybe you could say hi before we leave! We should bake cookies for them” a school friend? Could it be Yachi? You haven’t seen her in such a long time maybe you two can hang out and catch up! Or maybe its Yamaguchi? Oh, how you miss him! You couldn’t wait to go home to your family and see who it is. “Yeah mom, totally! I’ll arrive tomorrow morning, so maybe you could pick me up at the airport, then I’ll get some rest and we start the baking in the afternoon” your mother could practically hear your smile through the phone.

ㅤThe next day, was all a blur, you were jet lagged and tired. You were limp and pale, and cold too. So, you slept for 10 hours straight. Only to wake up and ate so much, food coma threw you down for another 12 hour nap.

ㅤThe next morning you woke up and decided to look around the bedroom you never really live in. You moved to your college town not long after you stayed in the new home, so you didn’t have time to settle in. You then found an old box full of electronics. A familiar phone case stood out to you. “EEP!” you squealed from happiness. It’s the phone you used in high school. Aaand… it still turns on!

ㅤYou threw yourself onto your bed as you start to look through it. Your old games, pictures with your friends, and; contacts. And there you saw it. Tsukki. A flash of thought came over you. Call it. What? Absolutely not. You don’t have any feelings for him anymore, you don’t think, at least. Well, you do miss him. And miss his smile. And miss his laugh. And miss how he looked at you that one night. And how warm he felt. And how much of a nice kisser he was. And his lips around yours. And his grasp, and how small he felt against-

ㅤ Y’know what? You’re hungry. You left the phone in your bed then stumbled out to your kitchen. “Hi, mom” you greeted. “Come, eat. Then shower, and give this to the family next-door, okay?” she shoved a jar of chocolate chip cookies into your hands. Looks delicious, maybe you should try one. You slipped your hand into the opening of the jar. “Not on my watch!” your mother slapped the sneaking hand away from her jar, she pulls back the glass from your hold.

ㅤSo, you went on with your day. Breakfast, shower, pick an outfit, now you’re ready. “So, what am I supposed to say?” you nervously asked. “Just say hi, here’s some cookies, I hope you like living here, merry Christmas.. blah blah blah, just say stuff” she instructed. The cookie jar perfectly wrapped and tied with a red bow. “Well, can’t you do it, instead of me?” you’re all geared up now, in your coat and everything else. “Of course, I can-“ your mother smiled, quickly snapping a pick of you, ready for war and fight the blizzard. “-but I won’t” the smile warned off her face so quickly. “Now go!”

ㅤKnocking on the door, ringing the doorbell, calling out “hello”, came unanswered. You gave up, turning around to go back to your room and look through your old phone again. Suddenly the door opened, just before you turned around. “Uhh, hello?” a heavy voice rang in your head. Whoever it is sounds a little familiar, but not Yachi, or Yamaguchi, like you expected. “Oh hi! I’m [F/N] [L/N], my parents live next door, I’m going home for the holidays and I just wanted to give you this” you handed out the neatly wrapped jar, your head still on the ground. You introduced yourself over, just in case your mother was wrong. “I hope you enjoy living here, and I wish you a merry Christmas” you looked up, smiling wide, as a polite gesture.

ㅤ“[Y/N]?” his eyes widen in disbelief. You squint your eyes to see: Him. Short curly blond hair, familiar rectangular glasses. He looked more mature than how he did back when you were 18. Tsukishima Kei. “Kei? What the fuck are you doing here?” you snickered. Still taken aback from the handsome sight in front of you. His frame even taller, and his broad shoulders looms over you. He laughed a genuine laugh, like the last one you heard 3 years ago, still as beautiful. You blush at the pretty sight, maybe you still do love him. “I could say the same with you” he joked. You never heard him joke not out of somebody else’s expense before. You guess there’s a first time for everything.

ㅤ“I literally just said why I’m here, idiot” you joked back. You were so happy to see him again, its been so long. In the midst of your laughing fit he closed the gap between your bodies and held so close and tight. Surprised, you naturally hugged him back. He smelled the same, like smoke, but a tint of strawberry and the musk of a cologne mixed so jarringly. It really is him. “I missed you” his whispering almost goes unheard. But you caught it. You heard him. You missed him too.

ㅤYou made plans with him to meet up again later to night, you decided you’d meet at the town square, near the huge Christmas tree. And you two could go shopping and hang out! But that raised a question in your head: What are you to each other? Maybe you could finally be together, be something to eachother. But do you still feel that way? Does he still feel that way? It doesn’t matter now, you’ll think about that later. For now, you just need to get ready for the.. date? Fuck, you’re thinking about it again. Guess it is kind of like a date. Just the two of you. maybe you’ll get under a mistletoe and-

ding dong

ㅤThe sound of the doorbell snapped you back to reality. Is he here already? You ran to the door, excitement filled your heart. Swinging open the door, he looked at you, half of his face covered by a warm maroon shawl, but you can still his unusual smile in his eyes through his fogged up glasses. You didn’t realize you were staring. “Wow, do I really look that good?” he poked fun at you for staring. “Yeah, you look handsome” you blurted out. You thought you looked good, but in his eyes “You look heavenly”

ㅤ“O- oh…” he shut you up completely. “c’mon, we gotta get going before the good stores close” you hurried putting your boots on, trying to keep yourself warm. “You seem to know a lot about this place” he said, as you hopped out of the front door. “Well, duh, I might have to hold your hand so you won’t get lost” it was a code, a little poke at him, so he’ll hold your hand, but then probably he’d say something like “you wish!” and starts laughing at your lame attempt of a sappy romantic moment.

ㅤYou slipped your gloved hands in your coat pocket as a way to pretend you didn’t say what you already said. You nuzzled your face onto your shawl, you felt so embarrassed. What if he doesn’t feel the same way anymore? He called you heavenly, maybe it was a joke. Maybe he didn’t mean it. You’re not good-looking. You’re not as cool as you’d like to think you are. You don’t have many friends. Of course, nobody wants to hangout with a try-hard loser like you.

ㅤLittle did you know, he could sense your doubts and insecurity. You were walking so far in front of him, leaving him behind, practically. He ran up to your side. His right hand pulled your left out of your pocket. Interwining his fingers with yours, he looks forwards to the path ahead, a satisfied grin plastered across his face. “What are you-?” “Holding someone I love. Is that so wrong?” he cuts you off. Wait, Love? “Love? Wh-What do you mean by that?” you stuttered. Fuck, you just met again for the first time after 3 years. He can’t possibly still love you.

ㅤ“I’ve been waiting for you. waiting for the day you come back to me. And I knew when my family moved here, I’d have a chance of meeting you” his grip on your hands got tighter. “Why?” you asked, so unsure of what you heard. You stopped in your tracks, you turned your head to him, cold air hitting your nose and lips in an instant. He leaned down, his face now level with yours. His left hand pulled down on the shawl covering his face, travelling up to your cheek, caressing the cold chub.

ㅤ “Because I still love you, after all these times. I still have faith in you. You’re sweet, you’re cute. You’re, not that smart, but at least you’re trying. You’re not me, mean and evil and a bully and whatever you tell me I am, I’ll accept it, I was an ungrateful ass kid. But not to sound cliché, and cringy or whatever, but… you’re… you, I guess” his confession sent shivers down your spine, you can feel his hot breath against your lips. You looked intently at his eyes. A glimmering gold. Like the stars that are now waking up to decorate the cold night sky. Twinkling, hazed, and under your spell, and you don’t even realize it. Your pupils wander down to his lips, pink, and warm, you could feel them against yours already. Licking your own from reflexes, he snickered at your reaction to him.

ㅤ“You should kiss me, I know you want it” he whispered. Thank whatever omnipotent being up there, the one that is giving you the opportunity to even look at him, breathe the same oxygen as him. He looked so perfect. And you. You are so adorable in his eyes, the way your [E/C] wandered around his feature, scanning every inch of his face, landing on his lips. He’s thinking it, you’re thinking it.

ㅤ “That sounds like a good idea” you smiled softly lunging forward into his lips. Warm, soft, and gentle. Your hand squeezed his hand lightly, while the other rubbed up Tsukishima’s hair. you pulled away just a bit to giggle. Closing the gap again, you whispered into his lips, finally content with whatever it is between you two: “Can we always be this close?”

a/n : you dont understand how much I love taylor omfg I'm so excited for speak now tv because I am forever a speak now girlie, ALSO can you tell I've never experienced winter before (tropical country thingz)

[fan-of-many-stories]

Vierapril Day 15, Sacrifice

"Don't worry about us. You must take the next step, and all the rest after that," Alisaie said with what might have been a smile.

Even knowing it was their choice, even accepting that this had to happen, Auvo took a staggering step towards the twins before they vanished in a torrent of shadows. Like the others, they left no part of themselves behind. In the distance, a stairway of faceted light climbed towards the dead star.

Auvo was alone at the edge of existence.

He wanted to scream. He wanted to collapse. He wanted to sob, to fight, to call them back... He didn't do any of that. The orange crystal was heavy in his pocket for all it represented still out of his reach. He could call them back, he had the means, and yet the very act would kill them all. They were gone, all of them. Phi, Aely, Nea, all of them. G'raha and Y'shtola. His twins. All of them. Sacrificed by their own decisions in a graveyard of failed realms.

Something shifted. In this city devoid of life, he could still feel him, faintly, but growing stronger.

The sorrows of a thousand thousand worlds, and his own, weighed heavy. And yet...he could walk on. He had to. For all of them.

Auvo took a few steps, following the initial connection until he could just make out Ardbert's voice.

"If you need a push, I'll be right there behind you."

[alucarddear]

Hey there! I'd like to request a drabble were Adrian is in a modern setting, he mets a girl in a club, there's attraction at first sight, they dance together (👁️👄👁️🔥🔥) and end up hooking up (is up to you if you want to make it more spicy!! I'd be glad to read whatever you want to write) (also, would love if he calls her "baby" 😫👌🏻), they keep in touch afterwards and end up together after some dates.

Thank you!!! 🖤

Forest Fire*

She reduces him to this every time; mindless, instinctive, forest fire consuming him all over again.

Alright, let’s do spicy. *CW: smut, smut, and more smut. This is descriptive as hell. Minors DNI. [Modern!Alucard] [She/her]

Special tags @kiatheinsomniac @dahlias-love 🤍

Adrian had found her at the club, of all places. She had on a skimpy little number—a black mini-dress that clung tightly to her body in all the right places. He remembers enjoying the feel of it, the smooth satiny material of it in his fingers.

Even then she was magnetic. Like gravity, they were pulled to each other by waves of sweaty, dancing bodies. Heavy music blasted through gigantic speakers, and through the haze, he was sure an invisible string of sorts pulled him to her or her to him or maybe both all at once, but one thing was for certain—they’d found each other through drunken blur and the mutual attraction was almost instantaneous. He’d never felt that way before.

It was electric when she’d stumbled and her back hit his chest, pure fire when their skin touched. It wasn’t long before they were in each other’s spaces, bodies swaying, writhing, and grinding to the beat of the deafening bass as if nobody else but the two of them existed—the tipsy woman, tiptoed with her arms snaked around his neck; Adrian with his hands lost in her hair, lips slanted against hers.

Eventually, in a move his friends would’ve sworn was uncharacteristic of him, Adrian had invited her over to his home. The entire evening was a once in a blue moon thing for him. The club wasn’t his usual scene, but his good friend Sypha had practically dragged him there only to then end up apologetically leaving him for some guy she met there. Some Trefor, Treffy or something. It was alright with him, they seemed to like each other.

When he had invited the woman in black, he had also wholly expected her to decline. She really looked like she would too, what with the way she bit her bottom lip and appeared to have thought about it despite her inebriation, but somehow—perhaps in a move that was also uncharacteristic of her—she hadn’t. She had said “Sure, why not?” as nonchalantly as she could muster, and soon they’d found themselves tangled once again, in his bed.

Just as they are now.

It’s been three weeks since they started officially dating, four since they met. The fire hasn’t cooled; if anything, it only spread further, passionately consuming anything and everything in its wake. Their every meeting often ends with them wrapped up in each other, melted together in a forest fire, singed yet so alive. And each time, he’s left wanting to play with fire, wanting more.

Adrian draws faint little figures on her bare back with his fingertip, making her shudder. She twists to face him, dragging the covers up her nude body to fight the chill. “Again?” she asks with a sly smirk, flippant.

Hell, he takes it absolutely seriously.

He chuckles at her. “My, how insatiable.” I can’t get enough of you, you sly woman.

“Mmm,” she murmurs against his skin, lips already dragging down his chest, her perilous trajectory sending a wave of heat down his nether region.

But then she stops and shudders again. “Jesus, Adrian, you might as well be undead. How cold is your bedroom?”

It is a little cold, he’ll give her that.

“I might be,” he quips with a smirk, and then he grasps the back of her head, forcing her to look up at him, and his voice goes lower, deeper. “But I can warm you up.”

And just like that the fire is lit again, and then he’s telling her, commanding her, “Keep going.”

She nearly moans at the way he’s rasping his words. How she loves it when he’s domineering.

She’s on him in a second, continuing her slow and sensual trail of kisses down his chest, hands caressing the hard muscles of his abdomen along the way, enjoying the way his breath catches in his throat when her lips reach just above his hardening length. She grasps him then, glancing up at him, and he twitches in both her hands, fully hard now.

She starts with slow, tentative licks up his smooth shaft, maintaining eye contact. She doesn’t miss the way his eyes roll back into his skull at every long flick of her tongue against the head of his cock, at her every slow pump or the way he is gritting his teeth as she begins tentatively taking him in her mouth.

Adrian groans as soon as she starts bobbing up and down halfway through his length; finally, finally increasing her torturous pace. He watches her with heavy-lidded eyes, crimson fire lit behind them, desire deepening in his core. And then she does something, a suck and then a swirl of her tongue? a swipe up? he couldn’t even tell, but it has him grasping her hair hard, moaning her name softly, ordering her to go deeper.

She does as she’s told, swirling her tongue around his head again before taking him fully in her mouth until her lips hit the base of his cock. It’s with some kind of masculine pride that Adrian chuckles darkly at the way she gags a little at her futile attempt to take his entire length all the way.

But it’s starting to feel too good, way too good—“Baby,” he hisses, tugging her hair back, freeing his cock from her mouth with a wet plop, a string of saliva connecting her plump lips to his tip. “Stop; that’s enough,” he pants, sweat starting to collect around his temple.

Adrian takes a minute to recover from his near bliss, and then he’s clenching his jaw and patting the space next to him. “Come here.”

If she only knew how much it’s taking all his willpower not to fuck her then and there.

Not waiting for her to move, Adrian hauls her off his lap and flips her onto her stomach. She would be lying if she said goosebumps didn’t litter her skin at being so blatantly manhandled.

“On your knees,” he almost growls. “Now.”

Tsk. “No, keep your chest down,” he instructs, and she instantly follows. “That’s it; good girl.”

She nearly moans. If she actually had on underwear, her excitement would have had her soaking through it.

He’s behind her next, hauling her ass higher up in the air while keeping her chest down with a heavy hand on her lower back. Then the little minx dares to wiggle her ass at him eagerly, prompting him to smack it red.

“Ah!”

“Impatient girl,” he reprimands her half-heartedly, sending her giggling into his bedsheet, and then he gathers her wetness with two of his fingers, spreading it all over her moistened slit. He’s barely started yet he already has her quivering, moisture nearly dripping out of her, her impatience apparent.

He has the urge to enter her then and there, but he reins himself in. He looks at his handiwork and smirks to himself. “My, look how wet you are for me.”

That’s about the only warning she gets before his tongue is pressing flat against her slit, lapping at her, driving her mad.

He presses his face harder against her pussy, tongue skilfully flicking, lapping and sucking on her throbbing clitoris until he has her squirming, begging for release—“Adrian! Oh! Adrian, please! I’m…!”

Adrian hastily pulls back and replaces his mouth with his thumb, drawing sloppy semi-circles around her swollen nub. He barely lets her breathe before he’s simultaneously plunging his index and middle fingers inside her next, pumping his curled fingers with wild abandon until she’s screaming, until she’s slipping over the edge, creaming all over his fingers, the squelching of her pussy over her desperate moaning sounds like music to his ears. “Oh my god! oh my god!” she cries again and again until she’s trembling all over him.

“That’s it. Good girl, good girl,” he praises her, leaving sweet little kisses on her skin.

Beautiful. She’s beautiful. He could watch her come undone forever.

She’s flat on her stomach by the time she comes down from her high, spent and terribly satisfied. His cock twitches at the sight of her, hair splayed all over his bed, cheek pressed against it, still shuddering from pleasure. It gives him so much satisfaction to know he fucks her so thoroughly each and every time.

He gives her some time to recover before he’s pulling her up against his hard chest with one arm around her full breasts and the other gripping her neck. His hand wound lightly around her throat feels her gasp more than he hears it, and he leans in closer, closer to taste the skin of her nape, nipping and suckling as he rocks his hips against her ass, her dripping cunt coating his cock wet as he slides his hard shaft up and down against her drenched slit. What he would give to just sink into her right now.

She twists around and he meets her halfway to catch her lips with his own, breath hitching in their throats, tongues clashing and dancing against each other. They lock lips and mindlessly grind against each other until Adrian couldn’t take it anymore.

“I’m going to fuck you now,” he declares, voice dangerously low, his moistened lips whispering against her ear. “Would you like that, baby?”

“Yes!” she nearly screams. “Yes! Please, please, Ad—”

That’s all he needed to hear.

He plunges deep inside her in one fell swoop, sheathing himself to the hilt before she could even finish her begging. And then he stills and stays there, locked together in her warmth, buried deep, sheathed down to his balls, and he savours her wet, velvety heat with a soft hiss. She just about shudders in his arms, gasping at the way he stretches her pussy completely, enjoying the calm before the storm, anticipating the pounding she knows she’s about to receive again.

And then Adrian begins bucking into her heat mercilessly, the one arm around her chest dropping down to her waist to keep her anchored, her back arching against his chest. He tightens his other hand around her neck as he pounds into her pussy, her breasts bouncing freely with his every hard thrust.

The loud slamming of his cock inside her seemingly reverberates around his otherwise quiet room, and he’s all consumed by her again—the sound of her moans, the taste of her skin, the feel and pull of her tight, spasming cunt around his cock as he runts in her like his life depended on it.

And then the heat is unbearable, threatening to erupt again, and he chases it. He pushes her down on her forearms, grabs her by her hips and fucks her roughly until she’s screaming, until she’s writhing, until it’s—too much, it’s too much, Adrian, oh God, don’t you stop—until she is forced to cum for the second time, all but convulsing around him, her pussy contracting and milking him for all he’s got. And then he follows her, panting, sweat dripping, cock stiffening inside her before he squirts deep within her heat, her name falling off his lips.

When he pulls out slowly, he watches his cum pool around her entrance and slowly drip out. He could fuck her all over again just for that.

Fuck.

She reduces him to this every time; mindless, instinctive, forest fire consuming him all over again.

He could get used to this, he realises.

[florestmoon]

Into the Fog Pt 8. (Frank Morrison x reader)

Sorry for the wait babes (: enjoy <33

Pt. 7.

You feel like a hurricane of emotions as you find yourself transported back into the campfire.

Feet moving on its own record, steering you away from the crackling fire and glances of the other survivors and towards the entrance of the woods. Nea’s angry voice barely registering in your ears when she stands up at the sight of you.

“Hey y/n!”

You don't give her a glance. You walk with no hesitation and push through the fog that covers the woods like a cloud, paying no mind to fact that you can barely see in front of you. One destination was in your mind.

“What did you say?”

Susie blinked up at you like a deer in headlights. Confusion muddled with panic swam around in her eyes as she stared back at you. You could hear shuffling from below you but you ignored it, too distracted by the sound of your own heartbeat in your ears.

"I..I thought..” she stammered as she stood up slowly. Her hands begin fiddling with her sleeves, tugging on the oversized material as she looked at you wearily. As though put off by your reaction.

“Susie. What are you talking about?”

You saw the moment that it hit her. Confusion transforming into complete fear as her eyes widened and she began shaking her head, her chest rising as she panicked.

"I..I thought..” she stammered as she stood up slowly. Her hands begin fiddling with her sleeves, tugging on the oversized material as she looked at you wearily. As though put off by your reaction.

“What does that mean Susie.”

“We didn’t know!” Her voice cracked as she began to sob. Her hands gripping onto the roots of her hair. The sight was heartbreaking. “We didn’t know someone was in the shop when we broke in!”

You felt your body grow cold as you could only watch the younger girl cry in front of you. Her sobs barely allowing her to speak properly. Her confession breaking between dry heaves while she let go of her hair and rubbed her face aggressively.

She completely breaks down.

"We didn’t know the janitor was there s-so when he grabbed Julie and threatened to call the police,” she wept, “we had no other option!”

“No option?” You breathed out in disbelief. Slowly her words were piecing together, the missing pieces that put together all the doubts and questions you had for awhile now.

"Frank stabbed him from behind” she grimaces, shutting her eyes as she recounts the painful memory in her mind. “And then..and then he, he made us stab him..he made us kill him.I didn’t want to kill him, I swear I didn’t!”

“Oh my god.” You gasped, finally feeling as though the air was knocked out of you. The room tilted as you leaned against the wall, slowly backing away from the girl.

“I knew we were going to jail y/n.” She takes a deep breath. “But Frank kept saying it was okay. And then we were burying the body and I heard something and followed it into the woods. That’s when it brought us here.” She sniffs.

“I don’t understand..” You were staring at the floor in shock, furrowing your eyebrows as you thought. “Frank said you all were looking for me..and that’s when it took you.He said that’s all that happened that night.”

Susie shook her head. Your heart felt heavy.

Her heavy breathing calmed down as she opened her eyes and looked up at you. She looked broken. Afraid. She looked so much like her age at the moment. A 17 year old girl who seemed lost and needed comfort.

It went against everything she just confessed. The murder that was acted out by her and the others. By Frank. It contradicted the true reality of the situation.

You couldn’t reach out and comfort her like you were just a few minutes before. No, all you could do was step away from her. Her confession battling against everything you believed in before. Battling with the lies that Frank fed you.

“Y/N?” Susie whispers, waiting for you to say anything. Something in her voice begging for you to not judge her, to understand her.

But you simply looked at her with no emotion, the turmoil too much, before stumbling out the room and running down the stairs as the last generator and the gates were powered on.

A branch snapped beneath you as your foot got caught in it. You feel yourself lose balance from the tiny misstep, hands gripping onto a tree as you took a deep breath. The silence surrounding you somehow was too much for you. It allowed all your thoughts and fears to be loud. Laurie’s words echoing in your mind.

“In the end, they’re not good people”

You push on. You ignore the growing anxiety as you get closer to your destination. Ormond Resort appearing just a few feet away from where the trees ended. Snow welcoming you as you walk across the large field towards the stairs.

You made your way towards the same room you spent all your time away between trials. Your safe haven. But that safety blanket that covered you anytime you walked into the room, was ripped from under you. Only dread kissing your skin as you walk into the empty room.

Taking a deep breath, you walk out the room and into the hallway of the second floor. A distant sound of a can rattling prompting you to make your way down the steps to the first floor.

Joey looked up from his position of kneeling in front of a bare wall, spray can in hand as he takes in your presence.

“Oh, uh hey y/n-“

”Where’s Frank?” You interrupt him, making your way towards the middle of the room. You never actually been anywhere but Frank’s room, actively avoiding bumping into a certain someone. You hoped that maybe you were lucky enough to avoid it, but like every other time in this realm, that luck has run out once you hear a scoff and turn your head towards the couch to see Julie sitting on the arm rest.

“Where the fuck do you think?” She sneers, tilting her head as she looked at you like you were stupid. “He’s in a trial. Killing all your friends.”

You ignore the hostility that was directed to you as you turn towards Joey again.

“Is it true? What you guys did before being brought here?”

Joey peered up at you in confusion. “I thought you knew…”

”Holy shit.” Julie laughs as she stands up from her sitting position. The hurt that crossed your expression at his confirmation spurred her to walk to you. She felt herself light up in amusement.

“You’re telling me that you didn’t know? All this time,” She looked at Joey as though it was a joke shared between them. Joey stayed quiet. “-I thought you were desperate enough to be cuddly with Frank despite him being a killer.”

You ball your hands into fist. Don’t let her get to you.

“But really, you’re not desperate. You’re just fucking stupid.” Her giddily laugh echoes in the quiet room as you stare at her. Shame scratching at your throat. “Don’t you remember what I told you the first time I gutted you?”

You were sure your hands were shaking, all the anger and shame building as you took in the venom in her voice. But she was right. She had told since the beginning and yet you allowed yourself to believe this fake fantasy.

You were stupid enough to believe it.

She tilts her head at you, waiting for a response. A flick of annoyance crossed her at the lack of it. You were still trying to fight through the shock. Your throat felt clogged up by all the emotions you were struggling to handle. Julie opened her mouth to continue berating you but Frank walking through the door prevented her.

”Y/N? What are you..” Frank glanced between you and Julie. He froze for a second, although trying to process before he tensed up. The sight of the both of you, Julie’s sinister grin and your fear stricken face had him rushing towards you both. “What the fuck are you doing to her Julie?”

He pushed her roughly away from you, placing himself as a barrier in front of you. You could see the panic in his posture. He was glaring at Julie as though warning her from saying anything to you. He looked a bit afraid, knowing that they knew something you didn’t.

But you knew.

Your jaw clenches as all the rage bubbles up. Everything that you been holding in, since Susie confessed to you and the whole way through the woods, came rushing out as you stood in front of Frank. You swore you could see red.

“You.” You said sharply, poking his chest with enough force that Frank took a step back in surprise. “You lied to me.”

Frank’s face goes pale. He tears his eyes away from Julie and looks at you, the intensity in your eyes revealing to him what he was most afraid of. It was although someone poured a cold bucket of water onto him as he realizes.

”What?” He stammered. “I don’t know what you-“

“When were you going to tell me?” You narrow your eyes. “Were you ever going to tell me?”

He pauses and you watch as he swallows nervously.

”I was. I swear I was, I just,” Frank finds himself stuttering as he takes a step towards you but you step away from him. His chest tightens.

”“I asked you multiple times about what happened with you guys, how you got here, and this whole time..” You take a shaky breath. “This whole time you been lying to me.”

“Y/N, please..” He pinched his nose, his eyes squeezing shut for a second before he opens them again. His hands are shaking, you take note of his growing frustration, his panic ,but you brush it aside. “I can explain. We can go upstairs and talk about this.”

“No. We can talk about this here.”

Julie’s and Joey’s eyes were burning into the back of your head but you didn’t care. All you could focus on was the boy in front of you and the anger that was keeping you from crying in front of him.

“This whole time I was blaming myself for you being here because of the bullshit story you told me.” You continue. “I really beat myself up over it ever since you told me and let the guilt consume me.”

“Baby. I didn’t mean for this to go that far, I was going to find the right time to tell you.” He urges, “I was. But we are already dealing with this nightmare and I didn’t want to make things any worse.”

“Bullshit.” You sneer.

”What?”

“I’m dealing with a nightmare.” You gesture around you by flicking your hand then to him. “We? Really? You made me think you understood me. Like we were all on the same boat, but no this is easy for you.”

“You think this is easy for me?” Frank snaps taken aback by your statement.

“What else would I think.” You bite back. “You were willing to kill an innocent man and then lied to me about it.”

“What the fuck did you expect me to do!” He yells. He grimaced once he saw how you flinch away further from his outburst. His fist clenching at his sides as he tries to hold back his anger. “I knew you were going to react this way!”

“How else could I react ?” You retort in disbelief.

“Look okay. I fucked up.” He feels his patience running thin. “It’s not like what happened even matters now , okay? That’s in the past. Let’s forget about it. “

“The past?” You shake your head in disbelief. “I can’t fucking believe you. That’s..this is fucked up Frank. What you did was stupid and fucked ! This isn’t something I can just forget ”

Frank’s chest heaves as you continue to back away from him. The way you were looking at him. You were looking at him he was wrong. Like there was something wrong with him. The way everyone else in his life has. It pushed him over the edge.

“I can’t believe you.” He snarls. The anger was getting the best of him. He wasn’t thinking clearly. The guilt was eating him alive and what did Frank do best whenever someone was disappointed in him? Lash out.

He storms towards you ignoring the sudden fear that takes over you. “You seen me kill all your friends, barely batting an eye when I would give you hatch after.” He glared down at you. “I saw the way you would look at me with blood and the mask. Yet you didn’t say shit. So now you want to suddenly have morals?”

”That’s different!” You yell back, shocked. “ I thought you had no other choice, I didn’t want to believe that..that,” you glance at the mask in his pocket as your voices lowers, ”was you.”

The grinning mask peers up at you as you stare down at it. Your stomach lurching.

Forcing yourself to look up at him again, the softness that he regarded you with before was gone, pure fury in his eyes as he looks at you.

You were reminded of the trial in the midwich elementary school, when he disregarded the death of your teammates in the same coldly matter. All the times you seen him in trials killing your teammates and yet you tried to act like everything was fine.

It all hit you. Not only did you feel disgusted with him, but with yourself. You knew this entire time yet turned your head. Now, with the truth unfolding and his true colors showing, you were forced to face the reality.

Frank watches you as you look up at him. The cold acceptance swallowing you. The words begin slipping through your lips before you can stop them.

“You’re just like the rest of them.”

He holds his breath. Your stare hardening.

“You’re a monster Frank.”

All the anger drains out of him in a second. All the tension loosening, his fingers unclenching as he looks at you in shock. Everything inside him was collapsing. He watches in horror as you turn away, tears swarming your vision while you make way past him and hurry towards the front door.

He wanted to chase after you. Force you to listen to him, apologize for his outburst. He was just so afraid. He wants to beg you to understand, beg you to not leave him again.

But before he could force his body to move, the familiar tug of the fog pulls at him.

He opens his eyes to the sight of the Midwich Elementary school surrounding him. The memory of him kissing you in one of the classrooms playing in his mind is what makes him break. A sob ripping from his throat when he tears off the mask that was always covering his face when trials started.

He throws it to the side, not caring for the way it cracked and broke from the force. He stared down at his poorly wrapped hands. The dagger in his left feeling heavier than before.

Monster.

You called him a monster. You thought he was a monster.

He didn’t realize he was breathing hard until a siren blared and broke him out of his panic attack, vibrating throughout the school. He looked up to see a survivor carefully making their way through the halls, exposed by the broken wall on the second floor.

Frank hand wrapped around his dagger. The edge digging into his skin as he stood up straight.

You’re a monster Frank.

The familiar rush pumped through his veins. His breathing kicking up before he began sprinting towards the stairs. The mask left behind.

[shirtlessfelix]

Can I please request a scenario with trapper, where reader is new to the trials and during one of their firsts, they end up being left behind and he takes an interest in them for some reason and takes them to the hatch?

Sure thing! Hope you like it, anon :) Random shoutout to the cute Demo I had earlier too, made me very happy after some shit games lol <3

Your First Trial (vs. Trapper)

695 words

Your first trial is more terrifying than you were lead to believe by the survivors you spoke to first. David and Yui may be used to it, but if Dwight still isn't, maybe it's not so strange that you won't be any time soon either. They've told you about the various killers, but it's just too much to remember all at once. You just hope the first one you face isn't the Spirit.

Before you're ready, the trial begins, and you're standing in the middle of a sparse wood. Where you are, you don't know until you ask Nea who you've found right away. "We're in the Shelter Woods," she tells you. "I'll look around for traps." So, she runs off and leaves you alone to repair a generator by yourself. It's a slow process, but nothing has gone wrong yet...

Until you hear the shrill scream of someone far off in the distance. Is it Nea? Someone else? You don't know, but it sounds through the trees again only seconds later. Maybe someone did get caught in a trap after all. You start to sweat, and your hands become shaky; the wires spark brightly in your eyes. The Trapper must know where you are by now.

And sure enough, just as the fourth piston slowly powers, you hear heavy footsteps coming from your left, and a barbed arm swings down into yours, the Trapper's heavy cleaver slashing your back. Suddenly, your heart beats loudly in your head, and you feel it in your throat like something choking you. Terror has never overtaken you so horribly before, and you wonder how the others can stand to live like this.

You look behind you as you run as fast as your legs can take you, but you've already forgotten the one precaution you need to take. A trap snaps closed on your ankle, and you're in too much pain to scream. It takes a few tries to free yourself, but when you do, you rush over to the first survivor you see in hopes that they'll help you recover a little bit.

Nancy helps you right away, bandaging your leg and your back after getting caught, and that's when you notice that she's injured too. She hands you her med-kit, which you use to the best of you ability to speed up the process, but it still takes a while for you to get it right. She thanks you and gets back on the generator with you, and you pray that you don't screw it up again.

By the time all of the generators have been completed, two of your fellow survivors have been sacrificed, and you've lost sight of the other survivor who's made it this far. You don't know how to leave, and you don't know where to find them, but you're too afraid of the Trapper hearing you call out for them.

And then, those heavy footsteps again, and you turn around to be met with the killer's hollow eyes, his mask that stares back at you and smiles like you're his favorite victim. Which, in a way, you just might be. "He left," he says gruffly, and you're even more terrified to hear him speak. "Come on, I'm feeling generous."

Some part of you doesn't quite believe him, but he gestures for you to follow him, so you do, and he brings you to the other side of the trial grounds. The wind howls as you walk with him, and it's not long before you see where it's coming from: a trapdoor that you hadn't seen in that spot earlier, black smoke whirling out of it. "What is that?"

"Your way out," the Trapper tells you. "Down you go, kid." You still don't believe him, but you don't think you have any other option. You look down into the dark abyss of nothing below you, bracing yourself before jumping down into it. When you find yourself back at the campfire, you're brought over with relief even while your heart is still racing.

Some time later, you're talking with the others about what happened. Dwight almost looks offended. "He never gives me hatch..."

[queendeeshorrorimagines]

Dead by daylight survivors reactions to recieving a love letter from their future s/os:

Happy valentine's day everyone! I hope y'all enjoy! I decided to only write for the non licensed characters but feel free to let me know if you want the licensed characters. I'm so sorry if any of the characters are ooc.

Gender Neutral reader

Warnings: none, fluff??

Word count: 2168

Dwight Fairfield

Dwight has never thought that anyone would be romantically interested in him before he met you. 

Yes, he’s made close friends during his time in the fog but they’re more of a family relationship unlike your relationship with him even though the both of you aren’t technically dating. (even though both survivors and killers could see the way the two of you look at each other while being oblivious to it.)

So when Dwight discovers a folded piece of paper in the shape of a heart inside one of his pockets, his heart skipped a beat. 

The nervous guy wouldn’t know how to respond once he finally gathered the courage to read the letter. Poor Dwight is in shock over your confession of love, not thinking that he was your type.

Dwight would go to you once the both of you are taking a break from the trials, confessing his feelings the best he could(stuttering while blathering about how he read your letter) before you give him a kiss to quiet his anxiousness.

Meg Thomas 

In her mind, Meg never thought that she would find love in general, let alone in the Entity's realm. Between her past when she was too busy between her sports and taking care of her sick mother, she didn't have much time to think about a relationship. 

Meg, unlike Dwight, is more in touch with her feelings towards you. Her love language leans more towards actions. (I.e. teaching you how to sprint burst, or taking a protection hit or two while in a trial together) 

Although she's self aware of her feelings for you, she tends to be more defensive when it comes to people calling her out on her feelings towards you. 

Meg accidentally saw the love letter you were writing to her while you were in trial. She didn't mean to read the letter but when she saw her name on it and how you poured your heart for her, she couldn't help but to blush at the fact that you have feelings for her. 

It was kinda mortifying when you heard Meg say that she's read your letter. You didn't have the chance to say anything before Meg pulled you into a kiss.

Jeff Johansen

Jeff isn’t the best when it comes to expressing his feelings verbally. With his anxiety that he’s spent years on trying to put on an intimidating front, he’s not used to feeling what he feels for you. 

When it comes to most of the other survivors, Jeff tends to be civil to them, but he’s simply not the talkative type like Jake and David to a certain extent. But when it comes to you, you make the hell that the both of you are in like heaven. 

Jeff would bond with you over various heavy metal and rock music, often showing you some of his drawings that he’s done during his free time in the Entity’s realm- which very few people has seen (Nea, Jake, David, and the Legin [before the Entity’s realm])  

It was obvious that the two of you are too anxious to confess to each other about how yall feel. So Nea helped you find a way to confess your love for Jeff without being forced into the socially anxious situation- a love song. 

Jeff discovered your love song within the sheets of paper he used to draw. The song itself was beautifully written, causing his heart to turn into mush as he realizes that he doesn’t have to worry about you rejecting his feelings for you. So he does what he knows to express himself- made a drawing of the both of you together. By the time you got back to the campfire a while later, Jeff gives you the picture with a note of his own on the back of it.

Claudette morel 

Claudette is a reserved person when it comes to friendships and relationships in general because of her social anxiety, especially during her time in the entity's realm.

She tries to hide the fact that she has the biggest crush on you but it’s too obvious because of her stammering and lingering glances at you while you're chatting with fellow survivors.

What Claudette didn't realize was that you also had the biggest crush on her. Just like with Dwight, the both of you are too oblivious to the fact that the both of you have feelings for each other. 

When Claudette found your love letter to you inside one of her notebooks with a pressed flower at the bottom of the letter, she thought she was in heaven. 

You were walking back towards the campfire when Claudette next sees you. A sense of giddiness flooded her body as she ran towards you, pulling you into a deep hug as she confesses her feelings. 

Jake Park

The thing about Jake is that he always had the ability to take note of the world around him, especially reading the people around him. 

Jake isn't a people person, feeling rather drained when he's around a lot of the more social survivors. But when it comes to you, Jake feels at peace when you're around. You give him the same peace that being in the woods gave him. 

Jake is good at hiding his emotions from most people, except from a select few people (his mother, you, and Claudette). It comes to a surprise to everyone else when they see Jake starting to teach you how to sabotage hooks and how to keep yourself in a meditative state when you get injured. You’re one of the few people that he’s willing to distract the killer from hooking you. (i.e. Saboteur) 

Your feelings for him didn't go unnoticed by Jake. He doesn't confront you with it - wanting you to be ready to tell him instead of flustering you. You were afraid that Jake didn't see you as a potential significant other, only a dear friend of his.

The letter that you left him in his sleeping bag was rather heartwarming to Jake. He knew that you’re fond of him but wasn’t aware of how much you actually liked him. When he next sees you, Jake will confront you on his reciprocated feelings. 

Elodie Rakoto

Elodie is a stubborn woman, Pre- and post fog. She’s aware of her situation in the Entity’s realm and her main focus is surviving before she got to know you.

 Felix was the first to know that his friend from his Pariahs era had feelings for you. He has talked to Elodie about it but she would change the subject to what information she’s gathered about the realm. 

You’re one of the few people who gets to know the real Elodie; the woman who’s been raised in Madagascar, sharing her knowledge about the places and people she grew up around. 

It was Felix who gave you the idea to write to Elodie about your feelings after he got enough of your loving compliments about his close friend. Elodie just got out of a match when she saw a letter to her on top of her sleeping bag. 

Elodie immediately recognized your handwriting, reading the words of how highly you thought of her. When she next sees you, she immediately pulls you into an embrace, causing you to be a bashful mess as she says that she loves you too.

David king

Coming from the kind of background David has, he's simply not the best at feelings- most especially if it involves love and romance. 

When it comes to the people he cares about, David is fiercely protective over them,most especially over you. If the both of you are in a trial together, David is always there to take protection hits for you and unhook you.

You knew that David always had a soft spot for you but you always thought it was because you're his friend and that David is interested in some of the other survivors, which wasn't the case. 

Deciding to bite the bullet, you decided to write down how you truly feel about David to give to him, sliding it inside his jacket pocket for him to find. 

Reading your letter made David's heart beat faster, his stomach having butterflies that were similar to when he first started fighting. As soon as he next sees you, David would pull you in a deep kiss before telling you that he feels the same towards you. 

Mikaela Reid

Mikaela was always fond of you, especially when you first appeared through the fog. She felt the warmth of your aura and she wanted to get closer to you.

If you practice magic, Mikaela most definitely will teach you what she knows about magic and would teach you how to make boons. 

It was obvious to a lot of killers and survivors that the two of you are close, some of them even making bets to see who confesses to who first. Yet, the both of you aren’t aware of how much the both of you truly like each other. 

You took the advice of Claudette and decided to write your feelings for Mikaela into a letter, virtually pouring your heart out about how much you care for the red-headed witch.

Giving the letter to Mikaela, it caused her to blush in response to the amount of effort it took for you to gather the courage to tell her how you felt; Immediately pulling you into a tight hug, kissing the top of your head. 

Ace Visconti 

Ace is a confident guy- almost too confident for his own good at times. But when it comes to confessing his feelings for you, his overly confident persona disappears. 

This man doesn’t usually have issues with flirting with people with his luck and charm. You’re different. You are more than a bartender or security guard at the casinos he used to frequent at. 

You are someone who actually wanted to get to know the real Ace, not the persona he puts out for people to see. 

To pass time together, Ace taught you how to play various card games like poker and five card stud while the both of you talked about your lives before yall were taken to play a hellish game of cat and mouse. 

When he found a letter addressed to him from you while you were in a match, he couldn't help but to be cocky because of the fact that you have feelings for him, not any of the other survivors. You bet your ass he's going to pull you into a deep kiss once you get back to the campsite.

Nea Karlson 

Nea is rather a rebel at heart, not caring what others think about her. She's used to people judging her for her "illegal" hobbies and her looks in general. 

Her personality from before the realm still is apparent while in the Entity's game. With you,  Nea tries to be more careful around you during trials (not trying to make the killers angrier by trolling them). 

The both of you are perfect for each other. Nea brings out your wild and free spirit side, you give her a sense of comfort as you take care of her wounds after an intense chase.

You knew more about Neas personal life than any of the other survivors. She would even teach you Swedish so that the both of you would be able to talk to each other without the others knowing.

When she found a love poem for her inside one of her beanies, her heart fluttered as she read your sweet words about how she makes you feel. Like Ace, Nea will most definitely pull you into a passionate kiss when she next sees you.

Feng Min

When it comes to Min, she never thought that she would fall for you while in this hell of a cat and mouse game that the Entity's in charge of. But here she is, enamoured with your presence and how you make this game even more worth winning.

The two of you would bond over your shared love for video games and internet culture. 

While you're not as professional as Min is, you still enjoy hearing Min get excited when you talk about a video game she played in the past.

You were in love with Mins determination and how she's up to facing any challenges that go her way in order to win. Min was in love with how supportive you are over her, eagerly helping her work through gens with such ease, even taking a few hits for her.

One day while you were in a match, Min found the letter that you were going to give to her. It honestly gave her so much happiness to see that her feelings weren't one sided, that you actually love her back. When you finally come back to the campsite, you were met with Min jumping in you arms conferring her feelings towards you.

[germvity]

RISES THE MOON

leon s kennedy x reader // 8 // two-way mirrors

"ah..!" he sighs, letting you off as you swallow. "good boy. you feel okay?" you ask softly, fingers tracing lines on his outer thighs. leon nods, drowsy from his intense peak. "good, this trial will probably last for a little while longer and i wanna see how many times i can make you cum." you grin as leon whimpers.

tags: protective!reader in this one, david being a bully 3.0, fighting (physical and verbal), leon being a sub part 2, smooches, he's a simp for you pls

warnings: fighting (physical and verbal), mild smut, hurt/comfort

sorry this chapters late i was writing a lot theres like-- 7 drafts in here 😭 enjoy!

---

you wake up with leon curled around you. memories of yesterday came back to you, and you can't help but smile. leon was truly smitten with you after it, clinging to you like butter on bread. "leon~.." your voice is soft as you comb your fingers through his hair. the blonde mumbles slightly, nuzzling your collarbone as he exhales slowly. "come on, wake up for me. trials will start soon." you purr, gently tapping his cheek. "mmn. y/n?" leon yawns, tightening his hold on you. "be a good boy and wake up for me." you tease, watching leon's ears turn red as he whines. "stop..."

you giggle, kissing his head softly as he stretches. "sleep well?" you grin, letting him kiss you before nodding. "i haven't slept like that in years." he jokes, his nose kissing your neck as he cuddles into you. "i'm not surprised that you slept so well, you went for about 4 rounds." you tease as he makes a small embarrassed noise. "what? you don't like being my good boy?" you tease, and he shoves your shoulder slightly. "shut up.." leon pouts, and you chuckle, kissing him sweetly.

melting into your lips, leon hums into your mouth as he tilts his head for you. "good boy." you smile when you pull away, admiring his soft blush and slightly parted lips. "knock it off-.." he huffs, sitting up and shuddering when your fingernails traced soft lines over the hickeys on his back. "you did so well for me." you breathe, and leon hums softly, back arching into your touch. leaning forward, you kiss one of the hickey's softly, making him jump. "sorry, you're too tempting." you smile, kissing his shoulder.

leon's back is to you, but you can just tell how flustered he is at your attention. "aww, is my baby embarrassed?" you tease, and leon groans slightly as you press down on one of the hickeys. "please-.." he mumbles, but you tut. "not now, we have to get ready for trials." you smile, kissing his neck softly. "you're so mean." he fauns hurt as he leans back onto you, placing his forearm over his eyes dramatically. "oh hush, you might get a treat tonight." you grin, kissing his jaw.

leon seems satisfied with your answer, getting up to get dressed. a bell tomes, signalling that trials will be beginning shortly, so you join leon in getting ready. "need anything?" you ask, rummaging through your items. "no, i'll be alright." leon smiles, grabbing your hand to get your attention. "for good luck?" he asks, and you catch on immediately. smiling, you give leon a soft kiss as black fog rolls in to collect you both.

unluckily, the two of you start separated. in fact, all of the survivors were separated. cursing, you step over to a generator, starting it up carefully. a yell catches your attention, and you stand slightly, turning to look over your shoulder for the source of the noise. silence. sighing, you turn back to your generator, connecting the wires carefully. nea finds you, giving you a small smile as she crouches next to you. "y/n, long time no see." she teases, and you glance at her with a polite smile. "yeah... how is everything?" you ask, not really that interested in knowing about the survivor camp. "eh, same old. david's still a tyrant." she sighs, falling silent before murmuring a small. "and i miss you."

you sigh at her confession, not knowing how to respond as your dull eyes stare at the belly of the generator. "will you ever come back if we manage to knock david off his pedestal?" she asks, trying not to seem hopeful. "i can't... i'm sorry." you sigh, falling silent once more. "oh.." she mumbles, and it was clear she still had feelings for you. "i just... really miss you." nea breathes out, and you nod. "i know... i just... me and.." you take a breath and turn to nea. "i'm seeing leon.." you whisper to her, and she seems so hurt. "what?" her hands are trembling and you're nervous she'll fuck up the generator.

"i'm sorry... he just.. cares for me, a lot." you sigh, looking back to your hands. "and i don't?!" the rebel yells, standing from the generator. "shh..! i'm sorry! it's just... we weren't official, nea." you huff, standing to soothe her. sniffling, nea storms away, and you sigh. "nea wait..!" you want to go after her when another yell comes from around the corner. furrowing your brows, you decide to leave your gen, not caring that ruin was currently eating away at it's progress. upon following the source, you see david standing over leon, a foot on his throat and a bloodied stick in his hand. "leon!" you yelp, charging david off of him. "you fucking whores! i hate you both!" david snaps as you struggle to get the heavy stick from his grasp. "you ruined everything!" the fighter growls, pushing you away to try and hit you.

quickly, you evade his swing and snap a sharp piece of metal off of a nearby hook. "david, please." you try to reason, arming yourself and not caring if it cut your hand. "y/n..!" leon rasps, trying to get to you. "stay there, leon." you demand, keeping david's focus on you. "you fucker, i swear. all you had to do was not say no-!" he swings, and on instinct, your sharp metal finds his throat. spluttering, david drops his weapon and grabs the metal, falling to his knees. you gasp, ignoring the way his blood had splattered onto your face as david collapses. the fighter gurgles, and you glance at leon, seeing his broken form. grabbing the stick, anger fuels you as you bludgeon david brutally.

gasping at the small whimpers, your attention shifts to leon, his hazy eyes are fluttering closed as he looks away from you. "leon!" you scramble to his side, cradling him in your arms. an ugly bruise blooms on his throat as he coughs sharply, blood seeping down his face. "y/n..?" he mumbles, clutching you tightly. "hey, it's okay, you're okay! tell me what happened, baby." you smile, ignoring your shaky hands as you hold his hand tightly.

"i was working on opening a chest, and he just-..." leon pauses to cough again, and you hush him softly, rocking him carefully. "he hit me, and tried to choke me and-." leon can't finish as his eyelids flutter. "hey, hey..! open your eyes for me, it's okay..!" you breathe out, your tears dripping onto his face and mixing with his blood. "it hurts.." he admits, managing to keep his eyes open for you. "i know baby, i know." you sigh, looking around for nea. the rebel stood nearby, clearly terrified of the situation, but she clutched a med kit tightly.

"nea, please help him!" you beg, and she sighs softly. moving over to you, nea crouches and unzips the med kit. "i can't stay mad at you... i'm no monster." she smiles, pressing some antiseptic onto his gash. leon whimpers, and you hush him, easing your rocking so nea could heal him. the antiseptic gives him a bit of oomph to sit up slightly, letting nea bandage the gash on his forearm where he had defended himself. "you poor thing.." you gush through tears, gently stroking his face with your hand. nea's hands freeze at your words, but she keeps going despite her own feelings. "thank you so much nea.. i owe you big time." you sigh as she presses a small needle full of red liquid into his arm. "yeah, you do." she smiles despite her watery eyes.

"i'm sorry that we didn't work, but despite us being separate.. can we still be friends?" you ask softly, and nea nods. "of course." she smiles, wiping her tears away as she hugs you tightly. "thank you.." you smile, hugging her back despite leon being squished between the two of you. heartbeats pick up as the killer approaches, and nea pulls away. "shit.." you mumble, grabbing leon's hands. "can you stand..?" you ask softly, and the officer nods slightly. "i think so.." he says, still holding you tightly as you help him stand. "come on, we gotta go." you usher leon away from the scene, but ghostface cuts you off.

"jesus christ, what happened here?" he laughs, voice modulator crackling. "leon, stay behind me." you mumble, stepping in front of the blonde protectively. "damn, relax cutie. i'm in a good mood today so i'll give you time to run." the killer is masked, but you could tell he was smiling. quickly, you push leon the other way, staying behind him as he runs. footsteps gain on you, and you grunt as the ghostface's knife slashes against your back. you split up from leon, vaulting the killer shack's window adeptly. "fuck, i hate this place." the killer grumbles, climbing through the window clumsily. "good! get used to it!" you snap, darting out the door.

you keep him there for two gens, and he huffs, leaving agitated as the third one pops. you sigh, resetting the shack pallet carefully before heading off in the other direction. "y/n!" leon calls, and you turn to see him ushering you over. "leon, are you alright?" you ask, jogging over as you cup his face with your hands to inspect him. "i'm feeling better yeah, those syringes are good shit." he chuckles, and you smile, giving him a soft kiss. "i'm glad you're feeling better." you say, grabbing his hand to lead him to another generator. "come on, let's try and get out of here." you say, crouching before the generator.

"i saw you looping ghostface.." leon trails off, and you glance at him. "it was hot." your blonde grins, and you laugh slightly. "thanks, maybe i can teach you a thing or two." you chuckle, grinding on the generator as nea pops danny's ruin. "let's go!" you smile, letting go of the gen to kiss leon lovingly. he gasps, letting go of the generator too. "y/n..!" he whines, grabbing the wires once more. "sorry, but letting go of a gen every now and then feels good." you smile, brushing his hair out of his face.

finishing the generators was easy as nea now keeps the aggravated killer on her tail, and you lead leon to the gates. luckily, your spine chill managed to carry you in small bursts to 99 the gate, and the two of you wait for nea to find you both. "so.. while we wait-..." you tease, pulling leon's jacket to kiss him. "open the fucking gate!" nea calls, and you look over to see her hauling ass towards the two of you. "got it!" leon calls, opening it quickly and pushing the two of you to safety.

the three of you cheer as danny storms off, angry at his loss. "take that you tosser!" you yell through the thorns as leon pulls you into him for a kiss. "gross..!" nea fake gags, and you roll your eyes. "hey, before we split... are we good?" you ask, and nea nods. "as long as we can kick ass in trials, we're good." she smiles, hugging you once more before waving and heading off to the survivor camp. leon seems confused, going to ask you what was going on but you cut him off. "come on, let's go relax before any more trials." you smile, pulling him along to your shack.

[miyaniacs]

Corrupted by Darkness

- Chapter 2 -

Chapter 1 ; Wattpad

A/N: hey again, today was a really good writing day :) I know this chapter is shorter, but the next one is already finished :) if any of you are willing to give me some feedback or comments, I’d really appreciate it <3

My knees hit the ground as I try to hold my body up with my arms. Small drops of sweat color the underneath me, my breath is heavy and it feels like I can’t breath fast enough to give my body the oxygen it needs.

“I need a break.” I whisper as I look up through my lashes. Rhys is standing right in front of me, the blood running out of his nose already stopped.

“Do you know how to control it now?” He asks and kneels down.

“I think so …” I grumble and sit down, resting my arms on my knees.

Thinking isn’t good enough. Noctis hisses.

‘I’m sorry! It’s exhausting to concentrate the energy running through me to another person.’

Well but if you don’t know how to control it and lose your temper again you’ll die.

Looking up, I glare at the giant dragon. I know he’s right, but this power is so much more than the magic I’m used to.

“Rhys this is so much harder than you trying to teach me to not get my mind crushed by someone like you.”

“But I can’t crush yours, can I?” A small smirk plays at his lips.

“No…”

“So you’ll manage to control this power too. - hey Nea. Look at me.” His hand grab your face and force you to look at him.

“Nea. You’ll find a way and until you’ll do so, I’ll be here every single night ready for you to make me bleed.” He smiles and whips away a tear running down your cheek.

“What if I accidentally hurt you?” I start to sob.

“You won’t. You’d never hurt me. Or any of us.” His hand leaves my face and reaches for my hand, pulling me up with him.

“The sun is rising, I should go now … and you should eat something.”

“Hey Rhys?”

“Yes?”

“Thank you.” I smile and he returns it, before clouding himself in his darkness and disappears.

Go now. Your hunger is rubbing off on me.

‘Why were you here in the first place?’

Moral support.

‘All you’ve been doing, is telling me to do it faster and concentrate more.’

Because I worry about you. You’re excellent at challenging your other powers, but this?

‘ I don’t want to talk about this now.’ Annoyed I turn around and stomp off the field. On my back I still feel the hot air from Noctis huff and stumble forward when he flys off, a bit too energetic.

I tried my best to avoid my friends today, I really couldn’t bear them asking me what is wrong with me and lying to them about me just being tired. Exhausted I fell down in my bed and passed out immediately, until I wake up by Rhys calling me. So I get up and spend the night working on my … blood manipulation… and have my breakfast again, and class, and training with Xaden…and sleep and Training with Rhys again…and so my days go by for the next month. At some point my body gets used to it and everything is more bearable now. So here I am again, standing on the flying field an making Rhys bleed form his almost healed wound again. He told me he got it because Feyre distracted him while training with Cassian.

“Do it again.” Rhys says after his wound closes again… or more like the blood stopped pouring out of it again.

“Isn’t it enough?” I sigh.

“No. Again, one more time Nea.” He smiles.

Focusing my powers, you concentrate on feeling of his blood running through his body, feel how it concentrates on his organs… on his brain.

Do it. A soft voice whispers in my head.

Do it. It speaks again.

It is as if my powers channel themselves, my fingers tickle yet I don’t move a finger. I’m fully consumed by my powers and feeling of Rhys blood in his head.

“N- Nea?” Rhys voice breaks, and his fingers move up to his mouth. Blood starts running… out of his mouth, nose.. ears… and eyes.

“Nea…” he whispers and collapses on the ground.

NEA! Noctis calls inside my head.

STOP NOW.

No… keep going. The soft voice hisses.

DON’T LISTEN TO HER. YOU NEED TO STOP NOW! Noctis screams and throws his tail around, knocking me off my feet. The very second I hit the ground I feel my powers leave. My head is spinning, my ears ring and my breathing is heavy. I don’t understand what happened. Why am I on the ground? Why is blood dripping out of my nose?

NEA HELP HIM NOW! Noctis screams and growls.

Him?… Him… RHYS.

I shoot up and stumble towards him.

He lays flat on his back in a puddle of his own blood. At least the blood stopped running.

Panic starts to rise as I shake him, again and again, calling out his name.

“RHYS!” You cry out, “Rhys please… wake up.”

[hex-obsession]

Silver Lining- One

word count- 2,066

content warning- language, mild violence

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You knew your day would be the same; week after week, month after month. But, sometimes, very rarely, something exciting (and unfortunate) would happen. New survivors would be drawn into the entity's realm, and you would have one more friend to share this dismal future with. Unbeknownst to you, today was one of those days.

Waking up was exhausting, busy night and all. The entity called upon (or, forcefully dragged) you much more than normal last night. There was a pleasant breeze drifting through the windows of your shack. The kind that consumed you as a child, gluing you to the earth as your soul itself smiled and you, briefly, felt true peace. A feeling you missed terribly and held close to your heart. A feeling that captivated your subconscious presently.

Getting anything done was a struggle. The amount of down time you had was always inconsistent. Luckily for you, your extended time here allowed for you to organize your belongings and you required very little time to be prepared. Rolling out of bed, you already had today’s plan in mind. You let out a content yet louder than intended groan as you stretched your legs toward a chest in the corner. You flicked the unlocked clasp open with a fluid motion, allowing you to lift the heavy lid, exposing your rather large collection of items. Given your justified attitude from being sleep deprived, you grabbed a mediocre toolbox, meticulously stuffing wire and a hacksaw inside.

“Today is not the day,” you mumbled to yourself, annoyed yet smirking.

The sun hadn’t risen completely yet, so you threw on a light sweater and headed out the door. In an attempt to feel a tad less disheveled, you bowed your head forward so far you almost thought you might tip over, shook your head vigorously, and with what probably looked like a majestic swoosh of y/c hair, flung it all back behind you. It was then that you caught sight of them. Two people who you’d never seen before sitting at the fire. A man, young, blonde, mid-twenties if you had to guess from a distance, and a woman, also young, brunette, and, would it be too hasty to say attractive? Maybe it was the outfit. Instinctually, you jogged over to them to welcome them and offer as much emotional support you could offer someone in their situation. As you got closer, you determined your suspicion was correct. The young woman was indeed very attractive, catching you off guard for just a fraction of a second, sending a twang through that jealous bone in your body. She was busy talking to Kate, who was sitting close beside her. Her body language signaled that she, although inevitably being unsettled, was taking things well. You wondered what could have possibly conditioned her for something like this. The thought left your head as quickly as it entered and you shifted your gaze left to the man sitting next to her. Your eyes met; he was already looking at you. From afar you didn’t realize how incredibly good looking he was. Couldn’t see much past the hair anyway. His eyes… multiple shades of blue, piercing yet comforting, relaxing yet stimulating. Your mind stumbled, or was that physical? Hoping you showed no signs of being taken back, you walk into the group to introduce yourself.

“Hi, I’m y/n,” you say warmly, holding your hand out to him.

His hand met yours. “Leon,” he responded. “Kennedy.” His hands were so soft, aside from his calloused fingertips. It sent shivers down your spine. Or was that the morning air?

A few veteran survivors were already around them, so you didn’t want to prod. Who knows how long they had been talking, or how many times they’d repeated themselves.

“If you ever need anything…” you trailed off. Why were you suddenly so inarticulate?

“Thanks. Same to you.”

You nodded your head appreciatively and turned back to the new girl.

“Y/n, this is Jill,” Kate announced through the chatter.

“Hello,” her voice was soft, yet strong. It was clear she was sure of herself regardless of the abrupt change in her life.

“Like I told him; I speak for everyone when I say if either of you ever need anything we’re all here for you.”

She shut her eyes for a moment before giving you a forced smile.

“Thank you, y/n. I greatly appreciate that.”

Zarina nudged your arm, directing your attention behind you. The fog was rolling in.

“I hope the debriefing was finished,” you said, slightly worried your new comrades might be unprepared for what came next.

“We got the gist of it,” Leon shot Jill a comforting glance.

“Then good luck everyone.”

Autohaven. Disliked by many, but you didn’t mind it. Maybe it was the frequency of which you were here, but maybe you even liked it a little. Quickly assessing your surroundings, you see a familiar face. Nea sprints past you, flashlight in hand, ready to start a ruckus.

“We’d be so lost without her,” you admit to yourself.

The trial seems to be going normally. Two gens have been completed and miraculously no one had been hooked yet. You, Nea, and Adam had seen each other in passing, but knew you worked best alone. Spread out to get more done. You were repairing a generator in one of the corners of the map, near an exit gate. Stealth was your forte. Like a rabbit in an open field, you checked your surroundings constantly. In the distance, near the gas station, you caught glimpse of Adam looping the Plague. Despite your empathy, you were thankful she hadn’t seen you yet. Rushed footsteps off to your right made you jump, almost missing a skill check. It was him.

“Hey!” you called to him in a hushed yell. He looked up from his totem and replied with a quick half smile. He remained crouched down and quickly shuffled over to you. Silently the two of you worked together. You barely heard Adam yell out in disgust over the sound of the machinery clunking and whirring, almost fully to life at this point. Without forethought, you involuntarily looked over to Leon. His face, illuminated by the sparks of the gen. Damn. Did your heart just flutter? Why were you suddenly thinking about how beautiful this man’s eyelashes were when death was on the line?

An abrupt, booming ding brought you back to the present as your gen was completed. You nearly yelled to be sure he could hear you over the generator. “You stay here to power the exit gate when the last gen pops. I’ll go back to help Adam.” He nodded his head reluctantly as you ran toward the center of the map. Following your heartbeat, you came up on them near a pile of cars. Adam was visibly amused, but also visibly exhausted. Drenched in sweat and panting, puking on anything close to him. Like clockwork, Nea completed the last gen opposite of you. Whistling to Adam, you gained his attention just long enough to motion toward the door, which was now buzzing loudly. Adam’s face went serious as he spun around the killer and darted toward the exit. She swung at him but missed, thankfully. Following close behind, you were near the gate now, thirty feet at most. Leon was out of sight. That wasn’t good. Adam slid over a pallet in one of the constructions near the gate, home free. The Plague had to double back and go around to follow him. Hand on the switch, he looked back at you with a grin, pleased at how well the match had gone. Before you could smile back, the Plague was behind him, arm reared back ready to swing. The exit gate opened and her censer cracked down onto his back, sending him to the ground with a sharp wail.

“Oh God,” you whisper. “No one escapes death.”

You scurry behind the closest rock to assess your situation. Nea had surely opened the other gate across the map by now, and who knew where Leon was. If you could find the totem you could make this considerably more promising.

As the killer carried Adam to a hook, you ran off in the opposite direction in search of someone else or a totem, or both. Nea was sprinting toward you, emitting pure confidence as usual despite Adam’s screams behind you.

“I think I know where the totem is. There was one out in the open near the gate you opened,” she said, proud of herself for not feeling the slightest bit challenged.

“Leon cleansed that before the gens were finished,” you sighed. “I got two others earlier, what about you?”

“I got one, and I think Adam was too busy to get any. There should only be one left. We’ve got to find it.”

You turned toward the back corner of map but before your foot touched the ground, a monstrous crack of thunder rang through the sky. You look to Nea overwhelmed with relief.

“Leon!”

The two of you bolted toward Adam, just in time to see Leon sneaking around the corner beside him. Out of the corner of your eye you spotted a window. Without warning you veer away from Nea and vault the window. Exactly as planned, the Plague came toward you. You peaked around a wall to make sure she caught sight of you, but instead she was walking back toward the hook.

“Fuck.”

Racing toward the hook, Nea was far ahead of you and had borrowed time to give. She cries out in agony but once around the corner, you see her and Adam running toward the gate. The Plague lashes out at him again. This time not knocking him down, but giving him a second injury, splattering blood on the ground around him.

Not far behind them, “Go!” you demand.

Cutting her losses, the killer turns toward you, inhaling deeply. You dip behind the hook Adam was on to sabotage it while also avoiding her repulsive expulsion. Rounding the corner, her censer slashes against your shoulders, cutting you deeply. You scramble, kicking up dirt behind you. Just as fear begins to envelop you, Leon reaches around the corner, grabbing your hand, violently jerking you backward. You’re too fixated on escaping to say anything to each other. A warm, putrid liquid splashes against the two of you causing you to wretch uncontrollably. She’s right behind you, gate directly in front of you. Leon tugs your arm hard enough to get you in front of him and with more force than needed, pushes you forward into the gate. Now you’re the one pulling him. The Plague lands one final swing on Leon, a protection hit, and you both run like hell through the exit.

“Nice job, rookie,” you declare, hoping the appreciation in your voice was still detectable through your nonchalant attitude.

“Yeah yeah,” he lets out a relieved chuckle.  

You suddenly realized you were still holding hands and a wave of heat washed over your face. You gave it a gentle squeeze and shake to signify gratitude and let it go, slowly. You desperately needed to lie down and address your thoughts after that one. Which brought you to your next point; Leon and Jill had been placed next to your shack. During the commotion this morning you failed to notice. Not that you minded, but knowing he would be nearby made you feel lightheaded.  

“Oh yeah, this is just what I needed,” you think. “Let’s add more drama to the already chaotic hellish world we’ve been cursed to. Just as a joke, it would be funny. Sure. Why not.”

You let yourself fall backward onto your bed, eyes pinned to the ceiling, not moving a muscle. You could tell yourself whatever you wanted, but deep down, you knew damn well this was the most exciting thing that’s happened to you since you were brought here and you reveled in it. Your entire body was alive with infatuation for this near stranger. Releasing a drawn-out sigh of acceptance, you shift your focus to the dilemma at hand. Either you tell him, probably make a fool of yourself and make things permanently awkward, or you keep it to yourself. There’s no way in hell someone like him would go for someone like you so, although there was hope buried deep inside you, you didn’t delve deep into any day dreams where you got what you wanted.  

Leon.  

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