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this is a request from a03 so might as well post it here too ig 🥱
request: Can I request killer!reader x leon? Cute fluff, smut, anything? I love the dynamic sm. Maybe even a male reader :(
The fire crackles in the near distance, the orange casting a soft glow to the surrounding campground as you watch, your form pressed against a tree, the bark scraping against your fingertips. This setting is uncomfortable, different; the silence is almost too much, your ears already well adjusted to the screams and cries of your prey. But now, with the never ending night surrounding your immediate area, you’re uncertain what to do with yourself, where to go from here.
And so, you watch, your eyes tracing the sparks that dance upwards, a slight impatience twitching underneath your skin. Where is he?
Your patience is rewarded, as your favorite emerges from the fog, his bangs hanging in his eyes as he drags himself over to one of the logs, kneeling behind before pressing a hand against the stump. His form is slumped, tired, and yet, he remains upright, one knee to the ground and the other bent as to be ready, as to be vigilant.
It’s a trait that caught your eye, that piqued your interest. Most survivors are merely shells, merely bodies that have no other choice but to stay alive. Not your favorite though. No, this man is strong, protective – he keeps himself awake, keeps himself alive for others.
He’s alone this time, and as such, you peek out from the tree a ways, your gaze heavy upon his frame. You’re accustomed to this practice, accustomed to observing. It’s something you’re familiar with, something you almost find comfort in.
And even so, you’ve never known what to do upon being discovered.
“Hello? Is someone there?” Your boy calls out, his posture straightened and turned towards your direction, his jaw set. You freeze, your fingers clawing into the bark, as to ground you. Your mind races to think of an escape, to think of a way to to get away from here, back to the safety of a fellow killer’s realm.
Your silence answers for you, as the man rises to his feet, fully facing towards your general area. “Are you new here?”
Immediately, the lie comes to your lips. “...yes.”
Your voice comes out slow, harsh; you can’t remember the last time you’ve talked since coming here.
The man smiles, his features softening ever so slightly. “I know you must be confused, but it’s going to be alright.” He takes a step towards you, and in a panic, you backtrack, a loud crunch of leaves resonating from beneath your heel. He stops immediately, an understanding look present on his face.
“That’s ok, I won’t come closer. You can stay where you are. You must be scared to death right now.”
A lump forms in your throat, but you don’t know why. “...yeah.”
“My name is Leon.” He places his hand to his chest, the palm flat against his vest. “Can you tell me your name?”
Your heartbeat quickens. Leon. Your favorite’s name is Leon. Despite the giddiness of learning his name, you manage to relay your own, your true name. It feels foreign, wrong on your tongue; this name is a memory, a ghost of who you had been before.
Leon repeats it, your ears heightening in on the pronunciation. A strange feeling bubbles within your chest.
“It’s nice to meet you, and I’m sorry you’re here.”
Everything comes to a halt, comes to a full stop at Leon’s apology. You can’t remember the last time anyone has ever apologized to you; none of the other killers certainly haven’t. It’s strange, discomforting; why is he sorry? He is not at fault, not to blame for your being here. And yet, the sincerity in which he says it is too much, too much for you to deal with.
You can’t say anything, can’t even choke out a response as tears flood your vision, a hiccup breaking through as you begin to cry, your hands wiping furiously at your face. You hear Leon take a few steps closer when a fog begins to form, rising upwards towards you.
“I’m scared.” You sob, your shoulders heaving as the fog draws in closer, “I don’t want to go.”
“I know.” Leon’s voice is strained, edged with pain, “You’re going to be alright. I’ll be there with you.”
His words are earnest and so, so genuine it makes you cry harder, ,makes the fog sting against your bloodshot eyes. You know he’ll be there but not as a team mate, nor a savior. Leon will be there as a victim, as prey, and there’s nothing you can do to change that.
The fog swallows you and you’re plunged into darkness.
That yandere Bubba wasn't my ask but whoever did is a genius and your writing is sexy.
Could I request a bit more of yandere bubba? PlEase
Hehe thank youuu :3c ! Also watch out for gore below, I was feeling a certain way apparently 🤔
Your vision comes back to you slowly, bright lights creeping in as you blink, a tired groan slipping out as your head lolls forward. You shift your arms, rope rubbing against the skin as your senses return. As your eyes finally open, finally adjust, the table comes into view. Each chair has a plate set in front of it, neat and tidy, with forks and spoons nearby; a feast in mind, no doubt. Something is on the table, something big, and as you focus on it, focus on the heap, a scream leaps into your throat, your nails digging into the wood of the armrests.
Dwight lays dead on the table, his eyes glassy and mouth agape. His arms are bent in a sickening, disgusting angle, blood seeping out from the long, serrated wound in his chest. It’s fresh, recent, and you shut your eyes, bile bubbling upwards. Drool seeps out from your mouth, and yet, you force the puke down, willing yourself to remain calm.
This determination fizzles the moment he walks in, and even with your eyes closed, there is no mistaking who is in here with you now. Heavy breathing and clumsy, loud footsteps move closer, and the figure clambers down, a thump indicating he was now kneeling next to you. You keep your eyes shut, teeth digging into your lip. A plump hand presses against your face, and your face contorts, crimson dribbling from your lips. A whine, and the other hand rises, your face being held almost tenderly. Even so, you refuse to look, refuse to face what, who’s, in front of you.
Stubbornness was not the way to go this time, as something is shoved against your mouth, the texture wet and muscly. Alarmed, your eyes shoot open, and as you glance down, you regret the action immediately.
Bubba is holding a tongue, and the organ is being pressed against your lips, concerned grunts filling your ears as he continues to push the thing towards you. You want to scream, want to cry but you force your teeth against themselves, your jaw clenching and already aching.
A dangerous growl leaves Bubba, and he grabs your jaw, slipping his fingers against your lips and shoving. You try, you try desperately, panicked breaths leaving your nose but it’s no use. With very little effort, Bubba forces your mouth open and in one motion, the tongue is inside, your mouth closing again as Bubba forces you to chew.
Tears prick along your eyes and you finally break, sobbing as you chew, the taste surrounding you. Once it’s down your throat, your head droops forward again, your form trembling, your wrists raw from the rope rubbing.
Bubba purrs, a happy sound leaving him in an exhale as he nuzzles into the top of your head, his hands patting your side in what is supposed to be a comforting manner. You don’t react, don’t pull away; you just want to go home, if there’s even a home to go back to.
CANNSBDH can you write a drabble and headcannons with the huntress x a fem reader who is a brat ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) doesnt have to be smut..... Unless you want it to be 😈😈😈
😈😈 i am a simple man; i see Anna, i go berserk. NSFW below the cut!
Anna “The Huntress” with a Brat! S/O
It’s no secret that Anna has a thing for those in need of ‘caring’; after all, it’s what her mother taught her, and she is more than willing to put in the necessary work to provide for you.
However, Anna didn’t expect it’d be this much work, as for the most part, you appear ungrateful, unsatisfied despite all that she has done for you. Initially, Anna thought it to be on her end; that her pampering was not enough, or sufficient, Yet, after some time, she realizes you’re just like this. That most of the time, you do it to get a reaction, to get something out of her. Naturally, it works for the most part, as Anna wants, needs, to spoil you rotten. Anything your little heart wants, it gets – Anna would move heaven and hell to get you whatever it is you desire.
Despite this devotion to you, Anna has her moments where she dangles your desires over your head; there are times where you have to give her what she wants first, and then she’ll give in. These are few and far between, yet it almost seems like you enjoy it when she does this, as these are the times where Anna is gruff and merciless, unmoving until she gets what she wants.
BONUS – NSFW DRABBLE
Your moans are muffled, quiet as Anna’s thighs press harder against the side of your head, a soft cooing sound leaving her in an exhale as she watches you fondly, her hands pressing hard against your legs as she leans back, easing up on your face. A groan slips out, and you lift your face up slightly, pressing your lips flush against her core.
Anna digs her nails into your flesh, settling more of her weight against you. The difference in size is stark, impossible to ignore, yet she has the utmost confidence in you; besides, this isn’t the first time you’ve done this, and she’s certain if she tried to relent, you’d whine and beg. As tempting as that sounds, she has more pressing matters, one of her hands moving up to grip into the threads of her hair, smiling at the sight of your eyes rolling up at the gesture.
You nose at her, your tongue slipping out and licking a stripe up her center, the grip on your hair tightening as Anna raises you closer, your cheek pressed flush against her inner thigh as you continue to lick, your moans faint against the swell of her flesh.
Anna will let up soon, but for now, she grinds into your face, lips parted as you devour her, eager to please.
i saw you write for Sally king. Um could i ask for sally with an so who loves to dance (like take her hand and spin around ballroom style) ???? thank you king and keep up the awesome work
I love Sally sm y’all have no idea. Also this sounded like a cute idea for a lil drabbly, so I hope that’s alright!
“Dance with me.”
Sally looks up from her hands, startled. A beat of silence passes, and she is uncertain if she even heard them correctly.
“...what?”
Their hand is still outstretched, the smile still there. “Dance with me. Please.”
Sally blinks owlishly up at them, and despite them not being able to see her reaction, their hand folds around her own, pulling her up to them. A quiet noise of surprise escapes her, and yet, a hand falls to their shoulder and the other wraps around their own. Her hands had done this many times before coming here. Many times before Andrew had –
“None of that.” they whisper, squeezing her hand, the other circling onto her waist, pulling her closer. They know her too well, too intimately, and Sally shakes her head, ridding the grief that had threatened to bubble up. She presses her head into the crook of their neck, the soft fabric of her veil brushing against their skin. What had happened, happened and she has them now; she’s not alone, not anymore.
The two of them sway slowly, quietly, and when the all too familiar darkness creeps into her peripheral, Sally holds on for as long as she can, memorizing the feel of their hand in hers as the Entity whisks her away.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
I laugh at the “Joey accidentally saw naked S/O in Deathslinger Caleb’s room” short and I would like to see a part 2 where Joey is avoiding S/O during a trial and when she’s last bc others were sacrificed and only one escaped, Joey and S/O have an awkward encounter that leads to Joey questions about their relationship with Caleb (“How long”, “why did you like him?” “does anyone know?”) and they left them free bc the atmosphere is too cold and awkward to handle in this situation. Bonus: Joey returns back to his realm and saw Caleb with Legion and Joey had to quietly tell his group about the incident.
A part 2 for one of my favorite lil things I’ve written? Say no more. (we’re gonna ignore that this is a whole year later…) (also ignore that this was supposed to be short initially but it's now over 1300 words...)
Part 1
Joey taps the knife against his arm, his legs stretched out onto the couch as he makes himself comfortable, his head hanging over the arm of the furniture. This particular trial went by fairly quickly, and given that the last survivor was probably on their way to hatch now, he could honestly care less if they escaped. He shimmies a bit, stretching out as he settles in.
Five minutes pass. Then ten. At fifteen, Joey sits up, a frown tugging at his lips. Maybe the hatch was somewhere well hidden this time? Regardless, he remains put, leaning back once more.
Once thirty minutes pass, Joey groans, irritation seeping through as he rises from the couch, shoving his way through the front door. He scans the main street, eyes darting back and forth rapidly, his knuckles taut against the knife. He then sets off, forcing himself into a steady lope as he searches.
A knock against metal, and as Joey rounds the front of the police car, he pauses.
“Of course,” he groans to himself, “It has to be them.”
Their head leans against the vehicle as their chest rises and falls in a rhythmic pattern, soft puffs of air escaping their nostrils. The knock from earlier must have been them shifting in their sleep, and while the scene may have appeared to be a lack of survival instinct to others, Joey’s unsure how to act. He can imagine how exhausting these trials must be on the survivor's side, but to fall asleep when victory was well within their reach…it seems almost suicidal to rest so carelessly here.
Joey stalls a moment longer, his hand stretching out before halting in mid air, a slight twitch to his fingers. What is he even supposed to do in this situation? He agonizes for a second more, and before he knows it, his hand is on their shoulder, gently shaking them.
“Hey. Wake up.” there’s a slight tone of annoyance in his voice (to be fair, this should have been over ages ago) as he shakes a little rougher. He leans back on his heels as they grunt, their eyes blinking rapidly against the sudden influx of moonlight. They sit up a little straighter, running a hand down their face as they take in their surroundings, their eyebrows furrowing as confusion settles in. Once they turn and meet Joey’s gaze with their own, something clicks, and they wince.
“Ah, fuck.”
They push themselves off the ground, and Joey stumbles a bit in rising at the same time. They dust off their legs as they rest their hands on their hips, squinting at the street, tracking along the sidewalk. Joey taps the edge of his boot onto the ground, all of his confidence from earlier dissipating as he remembers his last encounter with them. He can’t help but feel awkward around them, his palms clammy against the leather of his gloves. He doesn’t notice that they’ve ceased their scanning of the street, and their full attention now lies solely on him.
“Why didn’t you just kill me?” they ask, drumming their fingers along their hip, “That was the perfect opportunity and you didn’t jump at it.”
Joey swallows, and despite his face being hidden behind the mask, he avoids their eyes.
“I dunno… why did you decide to take a nap? This is literally the worst time to do that.”
They fix him with a look. “...do you really want the answer to that? I was at Glenvale just before–”
“aHH OK I GET IT!” Joey’s hands fly up, gesturing wildly, “You don’t gotta share! Jesus..”
A smile cracks, and Joey doesn’t miss the slight chuckle that escapes them as they turn their eyes elsewhere.
“Do you know where the hatch is? Then again, if we’re both still here, that must mean you haven’t found it either.” Joey nods and they hum, sighing as they stretch their arms out, their eyes closing briefly. A quiet swear escapes from their breath, and after a beat of silence passes, they face Joey once more.
“Well, do you mind helping me look for it? Something tells me we both just want to get out of here.” It’s more of a statement than a question, and Joey’s not sure if he should be insulted at the way they speak to him; they speak to him as if he’s a child, as if he’s not a deadly killer who has killed many (including them) countless times. Yet, it almost feels…nice, being treated as if he’s just as normal as them.
“...alright. I’d rather get outta here quickly, I can’t stand this place.” Joey admits, straightening his shoulders as he heads towards one of the houses. They fall into step quickly, their strides matching his own as they shoot him a surprised look.
“Really? It’s certainly better than that fucking swamp surely.” They counter, “Or even Midwich. That place is a goddamn nightmare.”
Joey laughs, “God, that place sucks. I make it up one flight of stairs and I’m done for the match. The least the Entity could’ve done is include an elevator.”
They smile, their eyes crinkling at the corners, “You must love RCPD then.”
Ten minutes or so pass, and both killer and survivor stand at the hatch, the groaning sound of the mechanism bleeding into their ears as a dark, ominous fog oozes upwards from the opening. Despite wanting to hurry to the damn thing, a certain air lingers, and either is uncertain where to proceed from here.
They fidget, “Well, here we are.” It’s a defining statement, one that implies urgency, yet neither moves, the once quiet atmosphere becoming awkward. Joey swallows, a question burning at the forefront of his mind. He has to know.
“Why?” Despite him not clarifying as to the subject of the question, they immediately know what he refers to. They focus their gaze onto the hatch itself, studying the inky abyss of its opening. They shrug.
“I mean, does anyone have an answer as to why they like who they like? I don’t know.”
Joey frowns, “But he’s a killer. You understand that right? Isn’t it forbidden?”
They roll their shoulders, a pop! sounding out. “Of course I know. Doesn’t change anything. We all do what we gotta do to survive here.”
“But-”
“Joey.” They say his name, and Joey snaps his eyes to them, taken aback at the casualness of it. This situation still feels wrong, and even perverse, as this meeting is everything against the rules. Hell, the bond they share with the Deathslinger is thousands upon thousands of times worse. Yet, the simple nonchalance of their demeanor in regards to such taboo is sobering, and almost admirable.
“I’ve been here long enough to not really care anymore. Hell, you’re probably in the same boat as well. Certainly there’s survivors you actually like and relatively get along with?” They continue before he can answer, “This Realm is a nightmare, Joey. It’s hard to not go insane with the constant monotony of the trials. Survive, die, sacrifice, kill, they’re all the same. We’re all trapped here, Joey. Might as well make the most of it.”
Joey is silent, his eyes glued to them as they crouch, their hand outstretched as they press it into the hatch, their arm being swallowed up by darkness. They turn their head to meet his eyes, a small smile forming. And yet, something sad lingers, as they nod once at him, offering a victory sign with their other hand as they slip into the gap, the top folding closed once they disappear.
Joey is alone, the red and blue lights bathing his form as darkness creeps along his legs, Haddonfield already beginning to sink into black. As he closes his eyes, their last words rings loud in his thoughts; a hopeful, yet ultimately despairing sentiment that he shares without a shred of doubt.
I can order part two of Yandere! Eddie Gluskin in Dead by Daylight? What would happen in a scenario where he managed to catch "your darling" in one of the matches or outside of them, you decide! Will the survivors come together to save the reader?
[part one]
Yeah, of course! Eddie Gluskin is a mans I'm always happy to write for <3 Gotta say, you’re a legend for linking the first part, I really need to make a masterlist and actually keep up with it. 😩
This wasn’t supposed to happen. The killers aren’t allowed, no, able to get this close to the survivors following the trials. Sure, they are permitted to linger, to watch the survivors gather, but that was all they could do. This is something so integrated into the rules, into the very working of the Entity’s Realms themselves, yet, the impossible seems to have happened regardless.
Eddie has finally got you now, finally has you within his arms, within reach at all times. This moment that he has been chasing down forever is now here; this moment that he could only dream of prior. This chase that had been going on since even before coming to the Realms has finally reached to a close. As he grips you close, oblivious (or perhaps, uncaring) to the blood that dribbles along his forearm from your insistent clawing, his smile widens, eyes crinkling from the elation. The chase, despite all its fun, is finally over. His bride is his to keep, forever.
“They weren’t in that trial either?” Meg asks, her brow furrowing as the latest team emerges from the fog, looking a little worse for wear.
Cheryl shakes her head, pressing a rag to a cut on her forehead, wincing at the contact. “No, they weren’t with us, or at Autoheaven.” She drags her feet over to an unclaimed spot on a log, setting the rag down as Claudette shuffles closer, inspecting the gash on the younger girl’s head.
“Where the fuck could they be, then?” David scoffs, folding his arms as he kicks a rock off into the treeline, “They were last seen here, and they haven’t been in any trials since. It makes no fucking sense.”
“Could they have gotten lost?” Kate asks.
“Unlikely,” Jake responds, not looking up from the toolbox in his hands, “They’ve been here long enough to know their way around. Not to mention, the Entity would have just sent them back here or into another trial. It wouldn’t give up on a survivor like that so easily.”
Laurie drums her fingers along her lips, “Could they have been kidnapped? Held hostage by one of the killers? Can that even happen?” There’s a noise of disagreement at first before a single voice squeaks out amongst the noise.
“It could have been the Groom. I’ve seen him lurking around here alot, especially when they were still around.” Dwight suggests, his voice hushed as if even he isn’t sure if that could be the answer.
Yet, silence washes over the campfire, an immediate sense of dread washing over the group as the possibility of Dwight being right seems far more plausible than any other.
hi there so i was wondering if you’re willing to write fics regarding/including dbd survivors? and if you’re accepting commissions? thanks! <3
Hey! If you mean fic commissions, I do take requests!
And for the survivors it really depends, any of the base 4 + a few others I'd gladly do.
Currently in my class so I can't exactly do a big post explaining it all, but honestly I'd say just throw a survivor at me and I can make a post stating if I could do them or not sometime in the future.
----
I will say Now I'm better at writing ones like Claudette, feng min, Dwight, and Quentin, they seem to be my specialty for some reason
