Soft ask: soft, snuggly jeremavin early in the morning, before theyre ready to get up, Michael's face smushed into Gav's back, one of his arms wrapped around his boi's waist, pulling him close when M wakes; Gav has his long limbs curled around Jeremy's body, holding him close, his chin resting on his shorter boyf's head, before he wakes up and untangles himself from J; Jeremy has his nose pressed to Gav's collarbone, his legs tangled with Gav's, and his arm over the taller man to hold M's hand
This is the most delightful mental image ever, so thank you. The roguish part of me thinks that Geoff goes in to wake them up and sees them like this and simultaneously his heart melts and also he feels quite like blackmail, so snaps like 400 photos of this on his phone before Michael wakes up and immediately threatens to throw the phone - and him - onto the freeway.
But as for cuddles, its for sure where they feel the safest. Gavin perfectly tucks into the curve of Michael’s stomach and he can wrap his whole body around him. It’s just so warm to hold him tight, to take in all the heat that radiates from the small man’s body. He nuzzles into his hair, breathing in the warmth and smell that is uniquely Gavin. While Michael is never really soft in his waking hours, at night he is uniquely peaceful. Gavin and Jeremy are huddled together chest to chest, it seems like it’s probably impossible for J to breathe but he doesn’t seem to mind it. They hold hands, Michael still gripping J’s even in the deepest sleep. They hold each other like they’re a bit scared something is going to take them away, even though no one will say that out loud.
The night is dark and full of terror, but it is a bit easier when they are together. When they can stave off the worst of the nightmares by being held, snuggling deeper into their pig pile of limbs and warmth when the images behind their eyes become too much to bare. Nightmares can’t reach them in here. This is their nest, their safety, and they cherish it dearly.
Even if the next morning becomes yelling about drool and numb arms and sore throats from breathing recycled air due to someone’s body being too close to their face...
It’s no secret in the crew that gavin loves cuddling up on others or being spooned, but after one particularly rough night for the muscle of the crew he woke up with Jeremy snuggled up on /him/, head on his chest and snoring quietly. Gavin was just over the moon, he stayed in bed an extra hour just to play with Jeremy’s hair and gently rub his back and enjoy having a warm weight of someone he loved on him.
Yes I love this so much. Everyone gave me sleepy soft aus because those are the ones I love the most out of everything, and I’m so appreciative!
I love the idea of Jeremy somewhat subconciously seeking out Gavin for warmth. He’s not normally someone who cuddles, I wouldn’t think - J would give cuddles, but he’s the big tough guy who I think wouldn’t be too familiar (at least at the beginning) with asking for that sort of affection back. At least not with someone who would normally receive that affection from Jeremy. But when he comes back from a long job, beaten and hurt, and then curls warmly up against Gavin... well. Gavin, like you said, is absolutely thrilled. He also had one of the best sleeps of his life, Jeremy’s weight acting almost like a weighted blanket, keeping him warm and protected and just on this side of squished.
He pets his hair softly, kisses his forehead, and just clings to the smaller man as Jeremy finally sleeps, vowing to never make Jeremy have to come to him like this but always to offer the cuddles as much as he receives them. And if Michael comes and curls up next to them, spooning Jeremy from the other side, well it just makes Gavin turn more pink and try to move so he could gently rub feet against Michael’s as they both cuddle their monster truck boyfriend between them.
Regardless, when Jeremy wakes up he’s a bit flustered and awkward, but he’s also so warm that he can’t move in contentment. And the other boys just smile at him and Gavin kisses his face until Jeremy buries his face in the crook of his neck and just lets himself lay there, enjoying the warm softness that comes to protect him from the cool morning air.
[AHOT6 (Jeremy/Geoff & LadsOT3 focus), Dead By Daylight AU, 2,3k words]
In which they are all survivors stalked by unknown killers through nightmares that don’t seem to end, and in which Jeremy finds some comfort anyway.
The worst part is the Entity always hovering in the sky.
No sun, no moon, no stars.
No days for Jeremy to count, only endless almost-night tht leaves him with no sense of how many time he has been chased through the shadows. How many times he has been surrounded by smoke and wind, running like a madman with five other silhouettes besides him. How many times he has woken up in the grass by the fire.
He is starting to forget what days even feel like. What was before the bonfire, the ash and the adrenaline-fueled struggles? Can he even dare to imagine anything coming after?
All that matters is how the dull ache in his legs ceases when he stumbles towards the orange glow, collapsing close to the embers. He stretches out his hands towards the warmth that should be there, but really, nothing feels like it should. Even the fire burns cold.
Warmth, instead, comes from behind as Gavin lays a gentle hand on Jeremy’s shoulder. He is always so hands-on, Jeremy thinks, patching up, checking for broken bones and placing his palms on bruises he has no way of healing. Like nothing is real if he hasn’t touched it.
There is a sound of footsteps, and Michael emerges too, swearing softly in the dark. Where Gavin goes, he follows, always smelling faintly of rust and ash. Sometimes his wounds don’t heal quite right just because he has so many of them. Jeremy knows by now that he sees them as medals of valour. Without warning, he might show off a shoulder torn by a chainsaw or an ankle almost bit through by a bear trap. Mementos from the times he got hurt trying to rescue his companions or take the fight to their hunters.
Gavin leaves Jeremy and prods at Geoff with his shoe. The older man, lying in the grass, is covering his eyes as if that might blot out this whole horrible reality. Jack tells Gavin to knock it off - softly, as to not disturb anyone.
And a little bit further away, Ryan stands. He peers into the mist between distant trees or straight up towards the sky as if he has some secret way to communicate with the being the causes all his suffering. He has his own smell, unsettling to Jeremy when he found it in a borrowed jacket. It is a scent too much like that of the killers; oil and dried blood and murky water.
And they’re all so much older, Jeremy thinks. They’ve been here for months while he still counts in weeks.
He had wondered how they could keep going, keep joking and keep sane.
He had wondered up until the moment he saw Michael and Gavin run to each other after surviving a night, laughing in each other’s arms and kissing like nobody was watching. Jeremy felt his heart press against his ribcage, yearning to be a part of that just for the sake of the physical touch – but of course, he didn’t do anything. That time, he stood still on the edge of the glow, and this night, he closes his eyes and finds some kind of sleep.
He finds a rythm to settle into. The rest time at the fireplace and the chases replace each other, come and leave like tides.
He finds that there is something almost rythmical about pulling one of his companions down from a meat hook. The shift between the other person’s weightlessness and the sudden feeling of a heavy body in his arms - the strained muscles letting go of tension - the held breath released and the cold of the nightmare dissappearing as hot blood runs down his arms.
Geoff clutches his wound and staggers forward. He spits out, "Ah, finally. Fuckin’ love you, Jeremy” – but he plays it off like a joke with a quick and uneasy smile.
Jeremy pretends to clean his hands even though he knows it won't help one bit to dry them off. "You can go, uh, help me with that generator if you want to repay me.”
Geoff nods and follows Jeremy through the dusk. Grass brushes against them, and the barn lies silently in wait close by.
Between them, they bring one of the rusty machines back to whirring life, sending sparks flying and hope surging.
Somewhere out behind the wreckage scattered in the clearing, Gavin screams. Jeremy bites down on his lip and forces himself quiet and still. He keeps crouching, searching for his next goal. What he has to do is must be divided into tiny increments: First, he must move to that patch of tall grass, then, to the shed. There, he'll find a generator, fix that, move on...
The omnipresent electrical buzzing grows in strength.
"Do you think they got one?" Jeremy asks. "Jack and Ryan, I mean?"
Geoff stops, listening and scouting. Two shapes, blurry in the distance, rush towards the fence. There's a distinct mechanical thunk that echoes through the smallest bones in Jeremy’s body, audible beneath his panicked heartbeat and the hum of the Entity.
"Yeah,” Geoff says. ”You see an exit door? Tell me you see an-"
"There."
And then Geoff’s eyes go wide and he starts looking not at Jeremy, but at something just behind him – only then does Jeremy hear the chainsaw.
”Run!” Geoff says.
But Jeremy knows that it is too late already. He pushes Geoff away before the killer descends upon him,
He feels a searing pain, his flesh burning as the teeth of the chainsaw bite in between his shoulders and down along his side. Seeing nothing, he falls to the ground. He knows he won’t be getting up again. He can just barely shift his weight so that he can look up. A pair of inhuman eyes look down at him.
Panic allows only for images and scattered sounds to filter through Jeremy’s brain the next few minutes.
A hook gleams, and the sight of it reminds him of the silver sickle of the moon. He misses it, even as it impales him.
Geoff repays the favour.
He is a dark shape moving fluidly from cover to cover, but Jeremy can not really make sense of it.
Shouldn’t someone like Geoff know by now that a bleeding heart only leads to more bloodshed? Shouldn’t his experience tell him to save himself? Jeremy finds it hard to fathom how and why when the killer could be lurking anywhere close by, but Geoff stays once he has pulled Jeremy to the ground. His face is set into an expression that says that he won’t leave.
They both know that Jeremy is dying; the hook has left him bleeding and the wound has made him weak.
And this is the first time.
Broad hands trace his side, coming to rest where he was sliced open. There is a long, jagged crevice, a fault opened by inhuman forces. Geoff’s hand comes away so very red. Jeremy knows it must be ugly from the way Geoff tries to avoid looking at it, seeking his eyes instead.
Every time Jeremy takes a breath, pain ripples through him.
”You don’t know the rules,” Geoff says, like he just realizes this.”You don’t even know that there are rules.”
”I know this isn’t the end.” Jeremy can’t find the air he needs for the next words, and panicking, he reaches out for Geoff who takes his hand. It is a slow, deliberate motion. ”Am I – How will it – ?”
Geoff leans in, making it so that Jeremy can’t see the horrible sky above them. "You're going to die," he says, softly, some part of him always aware of the killer lurking somewhere close by.
Jeremy tries to swallow and finds that he can’t.
"Youre going to die," Geoff repeats. "Can’t lie to you, kid - It's going to be fucking terrifying, but it gets easier. The Entity lets go eventually. It doesn't take long."
"It hurts, Geoff - You're-"
"Then, you're going to wake up. Get your ass to - I mean - go to the bonfire." The hand around Jeremy’s tightens its grip. "Wait there. We'll come. I'll come."
Jeremy breathes. It takes all his concentration to do just that one thing. He barely manages to speak one last time –
”Does… it get any… easier?”
”The dying part does,” Geoff answers, and Jeremy understands.
He feels light. There are chemicals flooding him, old instincts guiding him and he’s going somewhere else, even if just for a few seconds.
”But watching? Never.”
Jeremy cranes his neck. He can see the fence and all the open doors.
There’s a light.
The white mist on the other side of the fence has become heaven for lack of better.
The simple fact that Geoff is holding his hand and waiting beside him lets Jeremy feel just a sliver of the light inside him as he dies staring at that blinding whiteness and he thinks thank God.
His fingers are like claws as he drags himself forward through the wet grass. It takes him a while to get to his kenes and then longer still to walk; only then does his body start to feel like his own again. His brain believes there should be hot blood, torn tendons and flayed muscle when he is in fact reborn whole and ready for the night after this and after this again.
He is reborn with eyes that seek the fire, ears that hear the blood running through him and a heart that beats faster as Michael comes towards him. As soon as he is seen, he is held, supported and half-way lifted; surrounded by friends he sighs and tries not to let the sinking feeling in his stomach win.
“This is what it feels like?” he asks. His voice does not sound like his own.
Jeremy does not think. He looks into Michael’s eyes, red and teary as they are – though Jeremy doubts that the other man has cried; are they not more likely to be tears of anger, physical remnants of frustrated yelling? – and again his breath get stuck. Membranes in his lungs refuse to expand. He is between Michael and Gavin and yet not really enveloped by their air and aura; something seperates them and he feels most of all like a barrier. Like he shouldn’t be there so they could be there for each other.
He tries to slink away even though it feels so good to be held and assured that he’s living.
If this is living.
“You’re one of us now,” Michael says with a dry smile on a split lip, but it does not mean to him what it means to Jeremy. “Welcome to the living dead.”
There exists a type of spider that carries its young within holes on its skin. Legs and heads poke out. The smaller spiders skitter in and out of their mother’s body. Jeremy can’t remember how he saw this, only that it was on some kind of screen. The image is burned into his brain.
It is how his brain feels when he stares upwards for too long. The inside itches, crawling with insects.
One touch from Michael and the spiderlings burn away wherever they hide behind his eyes and under his skin. Red fire blooms when Jeremy closes his eyes with Michael’s hand on his shoulder.
But it is so hard to ask him to come closer.
There is, after all, always another day/night/moment, another chance.
Michael’s leg in a bear trap, Gavin’s voice beyond the low hill on the scrapyard; Jeremy with the bandages spilling out through gaps in his fingers, across the lines of his arms. His silhouette dissolves into something monstrous that trails long shadows after it on the ground.
He is helping Michael out, patching him up as best he can, when they hear the killer approaching. Jeremy has gotten quite good with first aid kits. He knows what to do about the particular wounds they all get. Michael can stand, and run, and live if he wants to, so Jeremy refuses to see him bloodied and beaten again, turning his back.
“Run,” Jeremy says – “I’ll buy you time. Go find Gavin and get out.”
He doesn’t want this – could never find the peculiar brand of masochism that makes you desire to run straight into the business-end of a chainsaw just to make the dream end the way Geoff has described a few darker moments. He’ll do it for Michael, for the sweet thank you and the touch later on in camp –
Then there’s a hand around his wrist and he’s being pulled away.
“It’s both or neither,” Michael exclaims, and he’s jumping across wreckage that was never anything whole, dashing across wood and metal, hiding their fragile bodies behind low walls that seem no sturdier. They crouch together on the floor. It smells of dust, iron and earth where no rain has ever fallen. Through the window, Jeremy can see Gavin’s shape – a nervous shadow moving from bush to bush.
“I know you love him,” Jeremy whispers.
“What?”
“Gavin.”
“Why does that matter now?”
“I don’t know if it does – I just – don’t you want to go and save him?”
“He can save himself,” Michael says, no malice in his voice. “And I can save you, okay?”
Jeremy tries to find the right words, but the moment he opens his mouth, all that happens is that tears appear in his eyes. Any word would be a broken sound, weak and dying before it could ever really roll off his tongue. He stays quiet, and suddenly Michael is closer, blocking out the strip of sky Jeremy can see through the window.
“Shh,” he whispers.
Jeremy can hear the footsteps, too.
The breathing.
The sound that a large weapon makes when it drags against the floor.
He hears himself not-talking, panic making his brain produce words and pleading syllables; “I can’t, Michael, I can’t, there’s so much, it’s coming – “
Michael shuts him up, leaning forward once more. Jeremy lets himself melt as their lips meet.
That’s how you keep going.
Faith.
“Stop saying that shit, ‘kay?” I’m staying with you,” Michael says.
They run.
Jeremy finds that all the running blends together. Every night and every day is a part of the same endless marathon, and he is always chasing something. A white light or a dark silhouette.
Michale’s shape, distorted by the shadows and his erratic movements. Adrenaline makes his voice hard to hear. He knows every path through every nightmare they visit, and Jeremy can just fight to catch up.
They don’t ask many questions at camp. Well, any questions that really matter. Hypotheticals and jokes abound, but nobody asks about actions taken during the chases.
Nobody asks why Jeremy and Michael sit so close together.
They can figure it out on their own. And Jeremy can see, now, how unspoken trust moves like waves between them. He’s wearing Ryan’s jacket again. Jack and Geoff are half-asleep by the fire, but Geoff looks with half-lidded eyes at Jeremy. In return, Jeremy gives a small smile as Gavin perches on his left.
He lets them figure out for themselves why, when he lets his shoulders and shields fall, a link in a chain around a fire, he smiles even though there’s no sky above him.
Warning(s); Mature Themes, Non-Consensual Kissing, Blood, Gore, Alternate Universe; Vampire
Pairing(s); Kinda Lads!OT3 (RayxGavinxMichael) (in no order)
-
Honestly, Michael wasn’t expecting this. Lindsay was flawless, she taught him everything she knew! She had been doing this for millenniums! He, the inexperienced freshie, managed to survive past a centuries old vampiress. I mean, he was way to chill about it at the beginning, he now had nobody! It was him, Gavin and Ray against the world! A world of hunters and sunlight, but still a world all the more. The Gents, a group of vampire hunters, claimed another lifeless soul. Not only had they taken Meg, but now Lindsay! Meg was the whole reason they were in this mess. No, that’s unfair, she died because of him. See, he was one of a special breed of vampires, that go into “omega”-like heats, claiming the blood of any human within running range. And Meg so happened to be in his. She was walking with her, presumed, boyfriend. Chris, was his name? She screamed it many times while he drained the life liquid out of her. He just positively couldn’t remember for the afterlife of him. {jokez 4 dayz}
So now here he was. Sitting with Ray and Gavin. They were his family now. He had nobody but them. He didn’t need humanity. He could switch it on and off. Lindsay said he needed it, but look where she is now. Gavin tried to convince him otherwise, but the Jersey Boy refused to listen.
Michael felt it as soon as his humanity turned off. The feeling of power, bloodlust. He surged when he smelt a human not far, the scent of vanilla and cinnamon crushing his nose. He ran to it, unable to control himself, when he got there he devoured the human, leaving not much left.
This went on for a few weeks, him caring about others less and less. Until the unthinkable happened.
Gavin was just taking a calm stroll with Michael, since Ray was busy. It wasn’t like he didn’t want to walk with Michael, he was just afraid of the new Michael. It was a good day to walk, and Michael wasn’t as happy as he would’ve been. Since he turned his humanity off, Gavin was afraid. Gavin didn’t know what to do, he knew Michael would snap even faster than usual. If he was being really annoying, the only snapping would be of Gavin’s neck.
Gavin let out a small whimper, they were here. Now, Gavin had run into the Gents many times, and escaped with minimum scars. Lindsay was always there to save his behind, but what about now? Michael had his humanity off, would he save him? Gavin had these moments, doubting if his boi even was partly human instead of vampire born. Gavin knew that Michael could be angry and rude most of the time, but had moments where he did care. Gavin tried to drag Michael away, not wanting a fight or bloodshed.
“Micoo, please, let’s leave while we can.” Michael snarled as a response. His mind was clouded over, thoughts of peace and tranquility overruled by the need for blood, and the fact they attacked Gavin and killed Lindsay.
Geoff was the leader of the bunch. Him and his two idiots, Ryan and Jack. Ryan wasn’t as bad as Jack, who was a total lightweight when it came to pain or anything creepy at all. Ryan couldn’t hold his tongue when it came to being stealthy and could hold back at the opportunity of a fight, and often tried to show up Jack and Geoff. Geoff walks up to them.
“My-My, what do we have here?” He laughs. Michael’s eyes flash. “Well, looks like we have an alpha here, and two sorry-excuses of betas.” Michael laughs, he was right. “Take ‘em if you want, they’re cowards, shouldn’t be too hard.” Geoff looked in shock, was he offering his betas? This had to be a trick. “Take them before I change my mind.” Geoff smiles calling Ryan and Jack. “Ryan, Jack, collect these two fine little prizes.” Ryan and Jack bound the boy’s hands behind their backs. Gavin and Ray’s eyes widen. Was he really going to do this! Hand them over to the Gents like that? Michael still had to care, even with humanity off, shouldn’t he?
“Well aren’t you a cutie?” Geoff says, tracing Ray’s jawline with his pointer finger. “You’d make a fine toy, don’t you think boys?” Ryan and Jack nod eagerly, not wanting to be punished. Tears threaten to spill out of the boy’s eyes. Geoff whipes the tears out of Ray’s eyes with his thumb. “Don’t cry beautiful, we’ll put you to use.” He laughs. He smashes his lips onto Ray’s quickly. Ray tries to break away but Geoff’s grip is too strong. Geoff pulls away. “Yes, he’ll do sufficiently”. “Don’t touch him!” Gavin yells. Trying to break free of the cuffs and Jack’s grip. “This one is feisty, don’t you think Ryan?” Ryan speaks up for the first time, his voice rough and gravelly. “Yeah boss, but we already have a cute plaything.” Geoff taps his chin, feigning confusion. “Yeah, guess this one is no use.” Geoff calls to Ryan, “Get the stake.” Gavin’s eyes widen even wider if that was possible. Was this how it ended? Being forced to watch Ray be violated moments before his death. Ryan comes back, raising the stake to the point straight above his heart.
What was this feeling Michael felt? He handed his insufficient betas over. They couldn’t kill, what use were they? They couldn’t even fend for themselves. He felt his heart pulse. A voice in his mind calling for him. “Michael, Michael please!” Ray’s voice echoes in his mind. “Boi, please, we can’t do this alone!” Gavin’s voice snaps him clear of all thought he had. His betas. His betas. He dashes back, stopping the dagger right infront of Gavin’s heart. “Nevermind.” He snarls. A shocked Ryan stumbles back, not even realizing he let go of the dagger until it’s pierced his heart. Michael stabs a couple times, then retreating to Jack. Jack drops Gavin, trying to run away, to get away, anywhere away from this demon. “Nice try.” Michael sneers before the stake drenched in Ryan’s blood meets Jack’s chest, right above his heart. The place they were going to strike Gavin. It made him sick.
He walks to Geoff, who had long since dropped Ray and realized he had no weapon except for a moderately sharp rock. Michael had blood staining his face and clothing, his pale skin dyed a shade of red that only haunted people’s dreams, that remained in the fantasies the only the people like himself indulged in. “You think you could get away with doing this to my betas?” Michael laughed, licking the blood of Geoff’s fallen comrades from around the corners of his mouth. Geoff visually shuddered. Was this the end for him? How ironic, he, the one who inflicted death was now going to receive. Michael laughed a sickly one, one that would surely haunt Geoff into the afterlife. “This isn’t just for me, or Ray, or even Gavin. It’s also for Lindsay.” Michael raised the stake in his hand, which smelt delicious, but sadly it wasn’t the time nor place, and smashed it into Geoff’s stomach. After a decent amount of stabs, Geoff being gone for awhile, he tried to tell himself to stop but his arm moved at its own pace.
When his arm finally slowed down, he leaned down to whisper into the deceased man’s ear, “That was me, collecting my prize.”
He looked to see Ray on the ground collapsed into Gavin’s arms. As he walked towards his betas, no, his friends, he wondered, what really went on while he was still switched off? That question would have to wait as he sunk down to wrap his arms around the other two.
All he needed right now, was his friends.
