Discover Top Posts Tagged with #max until dawn

Until Midnight -> Max (Until Dawn)

a/n: diagnosed with pathetic loserboy lover disease...it's terminal! <3 (also PLEASE check the cws on this one b4 u read lovelies)

(cws: fem!reader, DDDNE & MAJOR UNTIL DAWN MOVIE SPOILERS, horrorporn, body horror, possession/mindbreak, established friendship, canon-typical violence, consensual -> noncon -> consensual, strugglefucking, recording/sex tapes, oral, humiliation, reader death/major character death, choking, gags, cock worship, love confessions, fingering, virginity loss, bruises, blood, dry-humping, dirty talk, suicide/death pact.)

word count: 6.1k

It started with the touch of his fingers when he first grazed them over your wrist. He'd squeezed it hoping you'd notice, and you did, but it only left him cringing with an awkward feeling when you pulled away from him and turned to follow Nina down the hallway.

Max didn't want you wandering away from him. He didn't want you anywhere but by his side, it seemed. He hadn't acted this way towards you before–Megan hinted that there may be something going on in that bleeding heart of his–but you didn't really want to believe it. You'd been friends for a long time and you never noticed any real signs of a crush, particularly not when he started dating your other friend. Max and Clover had only just broken up a few months ago. There weren't any good reasons you could think of for starting anything romantic with him nor why he would want anything intimate with you, just a whole lot of reasons not to. Because he was also selfless to a fault, and tonight you found yourselves in the worst predicament you could've ever imagined.

The most recent loop started only a few minutes ago and your eyelids were already heavy. It was taking its toll on all of you, some more than others, but it didn't slow Max down quite yet. He draped his sweater over your shoulders and you couldn't push it away this time, just let him pull it over your trembling form while you sat and stared into oblivion. While the others argued, cried, and lamented your situation in the sitting room of the Welcome House, you remained quiet and still but not calm. It must've been the sixth or seventh time around. Something was going to kill you, and at this point you felt completely helpless to stop it.

Eventually, Max tugged on your sleeve and broke you from your reverie, to quietly whisper into your ear.

“Can we talk in private?”

The two of you waited until you could slip away, and headed into the bathroom when you got the first chance–you made the excuse that you needed the toilet, and Max offered to go with you so you wouldn't have to venture out alone. The door squealed as Max pushed it shut and tested the handle. Click, click. You could never be too careful, even if most things that killed you so far could take down that door in an instant, lock or no lock. You knew that even better than almost all your friends; this bathroom was where you were first murdered, Nina and Abe's blood soaking the pickaxe that that psycho cleaved through the door and into your skull. Max had told you, reluctantly, about what happened when the monster headed down into the basement…you could've guessed already, but it explained the bruising around his eye and the marks left on Megan's face. It had to have been just as horrible.

As your mind wandered, Max finally cleared his throat before stepping towards you. You turned slowly, arms hung at your sides, and opened your mouth to finally ask him what he wanted to say…but instead of saying anything, Max dragged you in by your waist and pressed a warm kiss to your lips. As soft as it was, as intent as he was on holding you in it when he reached down to squeeze your ass, the sudden panic wrenched you out of his grip in an instant before he could go any further.

“What are you doing?!” The kiss broke as you shoved him away, both palms planted firmly on his chest to keep him at bay. He seemed almost dazed as he staggered backwards and his back hit the bathroom door. “What the hell is wrong with you, Max?”

He stared, wide-eyed, and just…breathed. Heavy, trembling breaths that hitched in his throat when he stared back into your eyes. In some ways he felt like a stranger because he was never that bold, but in others…in others, he felt like the same old Max that would chastise your bullies in grade school, and wouldn't hesitate to take a punch for you even if it left him with a black eye. He'd already done as much several times since you'd been stuck in this loop, and you could see it on his body; the bruises, the blackish veins, and the growing restlessness in his sweet, brown eyes.

“I just wanted…I-I don't know!” He finally groaned out in frustration that was foreign to you, but he was quick as ever to collect himself and regain that gentle, calm tone. “Kissing you just makes me feel better. I'm sorry, okay?”

“How would you know what kissing me is like?” You snapped. Maybe all of you really were on the cusp of crazy now, because in your recollection you had never locked lips with your close friend that, up until the last few months, was dating your other close friend. But Max's face fell at your question, which led him to pose his own.

“You don't remember?” At the shake of your head his shoulders sagged a little bit. His lower lip almost jutted out in a pout. But eventually Max just sighed, his fingers threading through his hair as he mumbled a quiet “shit” under his breath.

“Every time I've…we…” He struggled to find the words, but at the same time it felt difficult just to breathe when he stood so close to you. “Do you really not remember any of it? Anything we've done?”

“What are you talking about? I've never…” You rubbed your arms nervously, which were still covered by Max's jacket. At the very least it kept you warm, but an ill feeling also dawned over you at just how familiar it felt. You swore you'd never worn it before now. Suddenly, Max's eyes went wide and he stared back at you like a deer in headlights.

“...Wait, are you a virgin?”

“Wh..What?” You sputtered, completely taken aback by his bewildering question. Besides, he knew the answer…you had told him the truth in confidence. “Y..Yes, but that's not-”

“No you're not.” The scoff and the shake of your head in disbelief somehow only made him more certain.

“What the hell are you talking about? This isn't funny, Max.”

“We've had sex.” He insisted, almost desperately inching closer while keeping his hands to himself. For now. “Eight times. I counted. I-I have proof!”

Eight? What the fuck was he talking about? Sure, you couldn't exactly remember everything that happened in the loop, but you sure as hell would've remembered banging one of your friends. Particularly banging them eight times. It was just too crazy to even be true.

“What proof?” As if he'd been waiting for that question, Max whipped out his phone and hurriedly unlocked it. With shaking hands, he held it out to you and waited anxiously for you to see what he saw.

“Max, wh–what the hell?!” You punched him in the arm and he stumbled back, yelping out an “ow!” and dropping his phone with a clatter. “You took videos?!”

“I wanted to remember it!” He was so weak at defending his actions, and yet there was some truth in his words that you could empathize with. You couldn't recall everything that had happened in every loop, and while part of you was glad not to, you were also desperate to know what had been happening to your body when your mind wasn't conscious enough to remember it.

Maybe that was what led you to crouch down and pluck his phone gingerly off the floor, faced with the blurred frame of half his arm and sweat smeared over your chest. Without much thought to it, your thumb hovered over the button that spelled out ‘Play’ with an ungodly curiosity plaguing your mind.

“Listen, I'm…I'm sorry.” His warm grip sealed over your wrist again, but this time it was gentler. Cautious, maybe, rather than panicked. “I shouldn't have filmed you–us–e-everything.”

“Shut up.” Your words were without bite and soft. You barely cast a glance over at him when you said it, and Max pursed his lips while he fidgeted nervously. With a clear view of the screen over your shoulder, he wrung his hands while you pressed down and the video came back into full focus, the tinny audio magnifying off the tiles of the enclosed bathroom.

“Harder, Max!” The you that bared it all for the camera doubled over on the squeaking sofa, the very same that you two had just been sat on not five minutes ago. As it panned up, Max's face dripped with blood that splattered tiny droplets all over your stomach, but he didn't stop–if anything, the determination in his eyes that clouded with his own blood was…a little unsettling. A little hot. You writhed almost to the point of pain, but it was as obvious as the sky was blue that you were enjoying every second of it.

The shlup, shlup, shlup of his hips thwacking hard on yours illustrated the depth of his strokes, to the point that you could almost feel the phantom sensations in your body as you watched it play out. It wasn't visible in the video, but suddenly you were very curious as to what he was packing down there, and whether it was his size that did you in, his skill, or both. It really felt like it might be both, which was a bit shocking for the sweet and mild-mannered guy you'd been friends with for so long. In fact, it was hard for either of you to look at each other as you watched yourselves hump each other like animals in heat on the recording. Watching yourselves kiss with the camera shaking was, well…

“Oh fuck–fuck, fuck fuck-!” The Max in the video grabbed your arm and squeezed it hard as he ground his hips in deep. Out of curiosity you peered over to that same arm and lifted your sleeve out of the way, just to see the palm-shaped bruise there that matched the size of his hand. Something warm and melty stirred in the pit of your stomach at the sight of it. Then, he cried out one last curse, and Max's grip on the camera slackened completely to let it drop off to the side of the sofa. You could only catch a glimpse of your legs locked around his hips as it laid facing up, and the look of absolute bliss on Max's face as he buried himself as deep as he possibly could in one last, swift thrust. The shaking of his legs, the trembling moans that tumbled off his lips as his eyes rolled back, they all coalesced into a symphony of pleasure that you couldn't tear your eyes away from.

Not until, at least, the distant thudding of something whaling on the door cut the lovemaking short. Despite clearly still in the throes of orgasm, Max's bloody hands raised up and tightened around what you were sure was your throat, the heinous act blocked out by the angle that faced towards the ceiling and your back to the shutter. It wasn't so much the strangling that put you off, because you knew the mercy of death delivered by someone you cared for was far better than what the horrors of this place could conjure up. But it was the fact that he kept thrusting, kept having sex with you while you struggled, that really put something dark in your mind as he tried to help you get off before the psycho's pickaxe came down on both your heads. Thanks to his efforts, it only came down on one before the video abruptly cut off with a splatter of his blood.

When it did, though, it was hard to pretend like you weren't affected, that the sight of Max being so rough and needy didn't turn you on a little bit. He couldn't meet your eyes when you turned your head, which just further contrasted the animal he was in the sheets to the meek guy that stood before you.

“How many times did you say?” Max balked at your question, fumbling over his words until he managed to croak it out. Eight. You glanced back at the phone and closed out of the current recording, just to see a library of other videos awaiting your perusal. “Were all of them like that?”

“Like–Like what?” He breathed out, nervous about what exactly you meant. Which part you maybe, possibly liked.

“You know what I mean.”

“I don't know what you mean.” Every curl on his head bounced as he shook it. Max wetted his lips as he glanced down at yours. “Tell me.”

“You just want to hear me say it.” He swallowed, and even the slight bob of his adam's apple sent fiery shivers down your spine. An image popped into your head of him between your knees, his lips latched on to you as he sucked, and sucked, and–you shuddered visibly at the memory of his tongue flicking over your clit, and without thinking you pressed yourself up against him like he was a magnet and you were metal. His thigh quivered as it slotted between your legs. Without realizing it, you'd pinned him up against the bathroom door and trapped him between it and your body.

Whatever it was that fueled your boldness was something you decided you needed more of. Ultimately, it wasn't fair that all of you got stuck here because you were looking for Melanie. Some of your friends blamed Clover for it, you knew even if they didn't say it, but at the center of all this you were just trying to do something good. In truth, there was a part of you that greatly envied Max for how staunchly he stuck to that notion–even during his most painful deaths, even when you asked him to bear the burden of killing you to soothe your own cowardice, he did his best and only wanted everyone to stick together. It had slipped your mind until now, but you did recall a faint memory of sealing a death pact together, and promising to kill each other when it would be a mercy. So you couldn't bring yourself to blame him for coming on to you, for kissing you so suddenly, or for taking the chance to fuck you even when it meant cutting the edge close to certain death. He was just trying to find some sort of comfort in this hell you were stuck in, and so were you. So was it really that bad to make Hell a little more comfortable?

“Why are we trying to survive, Max?” Your voice came out light, airily asking your question like you were a little afraid of the answer. It didn't help that you were rubbing up on his leg while his head tilted back, his voice completely gone already. “Why bother, when we could just do this?”

“So-” His throat scratched and croaked as he tried to speak clearly, only to squeeze his eyes shut as he slowly put each word together. “So we can do this all the time. Not just tonight.” His hands perched on your waist and stayed there, as if that was where they were meant to be. You let your lips brush his ear as you whispered into it.

“I guess you fucked me to death last time, huh?” The smile that curved against his skin had his knees trembling, weak and barely able to hold him up underneath you.

“Don't say that,” He whined, as pitiful as a puppy dog. “I didn't want to kill you. I just didn't…want you to suffer-!” He squeaked at the touch of your hand between his legs, feeling for the bulge you knew was there.

“You're so sweet, Max.” An honest murmur rolled off your tongue as you flicked it over that soft spot under his ear. “...I want you inside me. Will you?”

“We've gotta wait,” He insisted, but wouldn't loosen his grip on your thigh as you continued to grind on his. “The others are-”

“Please, Max.” You begged, burying your face in his warm neck. “I forgot what it feels like. I don't wanna die a virgin again–I wanna taste you.”

“T-Taste?” He stammered. It all came to light when you slowly started to sink down to your knees, and Max made no move to stop you. He watched, his gaze front and center, as you slipped his sweater off your shoulders and tucked it deftly under your knees. He let his hands smooth over your hair, and waited with bated breath while you started unbuckling his belt. The sound rattled off the walls and the window, where he glanced every few seconds just in case something decided to peek in. You rustled around in his jeans until it met your palm, and pulled it out with a flourish like you were unwrapping a very anticipated present.

“So it is big,” You murmured under your breath. Max let out a breathy laugh and paused, his cock twitching as if in gratitude for the compliment. You mouthed your way around the blunt tip just to earn yourself a sigh of pleasure.

“You're so good at that,” He panted. “U-Use your tongue, I love–love your tongue-”

“Mmh,” You laved a slow, long lick up his shaft, just to watch his head hit the door with a thunk and his eyes roll back. “I love your tongue, too.” He groaned at the memory of going down on you and pushed his hips closer to your mouth, his back arching off the heavy, wooden oak.

“You taste so sweet, I w-wish I could drink it-” Max's lips parted in a gasp at the seal of warmth tightening around his length, choking him out as you squeezed him into your throat where it'd never breached before. “Fuck me.”

If you could've, you would've reminded him that that was his job, but with more than half of him buried in your lungs you thought better than to speak with your mouth full. Your cheeks hollowed out as you sucked down, having to fight his reckless squirming with both hands braced on his legs. He dislodged himself to give you a short break once you smacked one of them, but even then you traced your tongue up his inner thigh as it jumped and he shivered with needy anticipation. The way his cock glistened with a sheen of your spit just made it all the more tantalizing. But even more so was how it dripped down his balls and drew your attention to the heft of them, which just made him more fidgety and nervous as he tried to turn your head away.

“Th-They're sensitive,” He whimpered, nudging your forehead back when you stuck out your tongue at them.

“They're full.” You answered promptly, unable to take your eyes off them now that they caught your gaze. “It looks uncomfortable.” Although he managed to stop your tongue, he couldn't do anything but gasp when you cupped them in your hand–his breath choked up in his throat while you massaged them, mesmerized by the weight as they sat snugly in your palm. Hot, soft, swollen, and musky in a way that made you salivate at the thought of tasting them. “Can I give them a kiss?”

“Yeah, I…yeah, okay. Just be gentle.” He hiccuped with wide, wet eyes. “I d-don't wanna get cum in your hair.”

“That would be hard to explain.” You offered him a smile, but rather than reassure him it just made his dick jump and startle you–he thanked god you had a sense of humour at least, even in this bizarre situation, and just giggled before leaning down to press a wet kiss on his sack. It clearly felt weird, but thankfully the good kind as he let you squeeze them a little longer before finally letting go.

“Hey,” He tapped your shoulder, and when you looked up he bent down lower to reach your lips. Having your face cupped and held so gently made it feel more normal than it really was, but still exciting. You'd barely had your first kiss before this trip. Now you'd gotten to experience a whole lot more, despite it being at the expense of your lives…a whole lot of them. The cool, sweet taste of his lips held you there longer than anticipated, because it didn't seem like Max was too keen on breaking the kiss either. Not until he had to, when he came up for air and pressed another to your forehead instead. “Okay…you're good, I just–just needed to get that out.”

“Do you like me, Max?”

“If I say yes, will you be mad?” The shake of your head brought a smile to his lips; a small one, hopeful and honest just like he was. “...Y-Yeah.”

“I like you too.” You whispered back, before slipping his phone back into his open hand. He looked down at you with a curious tilt of his head, but his wonder didn't last for long.

“Can you film this? I wanna watch it later.”

“Wh..Why?”

“So…I can show my future self.” You answered in kind, bashful but determined to speak your mind. “So we both know where we stand.”

“Where we…stand?” Despite his confusion, he held up the phone in both hands and tentatively tapped the ‘record’ button. And although he might've had reservations at first, those all disappeared the moment you brushed your lips against his sensitive, leaking tip.

“Oh, fuck.” Max grunted through his teeth at the very first bob of your head as you took him in. He was slender and long, easy to get in your mouth, and even harder to let go of once it started twitching at the back of your throat. But he kept his grip firm on the phone because he desperately wanted to do as you asked–and because he couldn't get enough of reliving all the other times you agreed to let him touch you. He still couldn't believe you would ever allow him that privilege, even now.

You could only imagine what you looked like from his angle. Sweaty, exhausted, black veins creeping across your skin, bruised and broken from dying time after time after time. Maybe your warm mouth made up for the brutalized visage he bore witness to, or maybe Max was telling the truth when he said that kissing you “made him feel better”. What was “better” after all?

“Easy, easy…” A sigh escaped him, leaving him to relax into your heat and finally let himself enjoy your company without the fear of death ever-present at the front of his mind. He lowered one of his hands from the phone to hold your hair, not to guide you but rather to help himself get a grip as he lost himself in your warm embrace. “..Is this making you wet?”

How the hell did he know? Max clearly had been paying attention over the last several loops, because he was right on the money. You squirmed at being made aware just how wet you were getting, particularly with the soft shlucking of Max's tip suctioning the back of your throat each time he drew back. It made it impossible to even think of stopping before he came. So you just nodded, which sparked something hot and intense in his eyes at the sight of you unwilling to release your grip on his cock, even for a second.

“You're so cute.” He sighed for the camera to pick up, his hand sliding under your chin to lift your face higher into frame. “I think I'm in love with you. Do you love me?” Even though he felt your head nodding on its own, he guided it just so he could smile down at you with the camera's light aimed right down your sights. He was on the cusp of delirium, constantly swaying between fighting for his life and losing all sense of time when he was with you. “I love you too.”

Max slipped his hand around the back of your head and started to push, pressing you down, down, down on his shaft until your lips narrowly brushed the base. All those curly, wiry hairs scraped your nose and tickled it, and you tried hard to hold back your sneeze, which just made him groan excitedly at how cutely you scrunched up your nose. His pace quickened, and now each thrust felt like it was breaking into your lungs at such awesome depth.

“Just open up,” He grunted, a particularly hard thrust jolting your whole body from the neck down. Your nails dug into his thighs, but he wasn't deterred in the slightest by the pain. It'd become trivial by this point, you were sure. “Just open up and let me in. Show me how good you can choke on it.” His fingers tightened in your hair as he yanked you forward, ignorant to the squirming that betrayed how hard it was getting to bear the pain. He wouldn't let you up for air anymore–you couldn't even see him past the light blaring from the phone's camera, and something ate at you in the back of your mind. Something was wrong.

“I love it when you look scared.”

You didn't need to see his face anymore. The low, guttural growl of his voice as he spoke those terrifying words sent panic rushing through you. The thing that used to be Max gloated at the clench of your throat around him, but with your freed hand, you silently apologized to the real Max in your mind before tightening it into a fist and bringing it up hard between his legs.

The sheer pitch of his curses and shouts as he doubled over pierced your eardrums, but it was enough time to wrench him out of your mouth and cough out what was left behind; black, eerie spunk that smeared globs down your chin and your fingers. On your hands and knees you already felt weak, but it grew twofold when you started for the door and fumbled for the lock just for Max to lunge at you, and throw you back down to the floor. Without breaking your gaze, he reached behind him and softly clicked the lock shut again. Where once his brown eyes had made your heart flutter, there were dark, black voids that sucked any life he had out of him when he smirked.

“Let's see what your insides look like.” He breathed out, and before you could shuffle back even a few inches, he stood over you and wrenched you back towards him by your ankle, wickedly soaking up your screams as he flipped out the phone in his hand that he'd dropped in the struggle. With another tap of his thumb to record a new video, Max yanked your legs apart and practically ripped your bottoms away as he pulled them down your legs. He barely paid any mind to them once they were past your knees, and let them pool around your ankles–he was more invested in holding you still as he pried you open with his fingers and aimed the camera between your spread lips.

“Max-!” Sick of your weak, fragile voice, he tugged off one of your socks and balled it up before shoving it unceremoniously in your mouth. But your hands he left free, because they were more focused on trying desperately to push him off…and if the stiffening of his cock was any sign, he liked it when you tried to fight him. With one good, swift hook at his face, you managed to drag your nails across his cheek and send him reeling. Just not for long enough to make any difference–it awarded you a precious few seconds to get away, and when you tried to stand, Max brought you right back to the floor with his entire weight thrown on top of you from behind. His cock twitched excitedly against your entrance, and when he started forcing his way in, you knew then and there that it was over.

“I love you,” The thing with Max's face chanted gleefully as he pinned you, each inch stretching you open with familiarity and a foreign taste all at the same time. The monster taunted his words with a deep thrust to steal the breath from your lungs, before sliding an arm around your neck to put you into a humiliating, submissive chokehold. The phone came around to aim its camera at your face, and the demon turned it around so you could see exactly what it captured; your blown-out pupils and puffy lips, your throat bruising as he cinched his bicep around it, and the loud shlups of his hips meeting your backside as he fucked you into submission.

“Unh, unh, unh, unh!” He mocked your girlish squeals with fervor, his kiss to your cheek an absolutely twisted gesture of false affection that too closely mimicked Max's own gentleness. His tongue flicked out to lick it and it felt awful, slimy and cold–when you dared to glance back at the camera to look, a chill raced through you at the sight of a long, elongated muscle that looked too big for his mouth, wriggling over your skin like it wanted to burrow inside you. But when you blinked, it looked like any normal tongue as if it was all in your head.

“Let me in.” His voice echoed in your mind, resonating like the thrum of a heartbeat rattling the inside of your skull. His hips chased yours in an erratic rhythm, pumping like they needed not just to fuck, but to strain to get as deep inside you as humanly possible. Yet you had a feeling that it meant more than that, that this thing wanted more than a terrifying imitation of love.

It started to repeat. Let me in, let me in, let me in. What was stiff and rigid inside you started to loosen, started to wriggle, and your heart jumped into your throat at the feeling of Max's cock lengthening, reaching up inside you into places that it never should be able to find. You begged for mercy but no voice came out, your lungs seizing painfully for air that he choked harder and harder out of you.

“Mhh-!” You squeaked, clawing at his arm as the fabric of your sock seemed to thicken and clog up your throat even more. It felt dried out, it burned, but the pain just seared hotter and hotter until it felt like you were about to combust, like you were going to lose your mind completely as your body stretched impossibly taut-

“Oops.”

Max's snicker echoed in your mind, along with the sickening crack of something vitally important snapping painfully in two.

This time, however, you knew it wasn't the start of another loop. Because when you opened your eyes, you weren't standing on the porch of the Welcome House as you had been every other time. Instead, the feeling of being choked persisted, and a hot flood of something thick and sticky splattered the back of your throat as you urgently pulled yourself off of Max's lap.

“Kh-glhk-!” Perched on your hands and knees you hacked up the fluid into a puddle on the floor, coughing and spitting without any warning, just tears pooling in your tired eyes. Max's hand rushed to warm your back as he knelt down to rub it, and the only reason you didn't flinch away was because the croon of his voice was sincere this time, and not some phantom jeering like you could still hear ringing in the back of your head.

“Hey, are you okay? I-It's okay-” Max tenderly gathered up your hair and pulled it away from your face. The worry in his eyes slowly brought you back down from the fear that had plagued you, but your hands still trembled even once you'd un-gracefully spat his cum out of your mouth and all over the stained bathroom tile. You held up your palms to look, seeing it stick in the gaps between your fingers, and let out a shaky breath when you realized it was white. Once you were certain you weren't choking on it anymore, you scrambled for his phone and yanked it out of his pocket, frantically tapping through the folders in his gallery before you landed on the one filled with videos of the two of you together. You searched, looking for the most recent one, before breathing a sigh of relief when you saw that it was the footage Max recorded just minutes before everything went awry. You turned to face him, and threw your arms around his neck in relief.

“Are you okay?” He begged to know, just for you to nod against his cheek with your breathing still laboured and heavy. “Did you see something?”

“I-It's fine-”

“You can tell me.” He insisted. His palms pressed firmly into the small of your back to steady you. “You don't have to, but you can.”

How could you tell him was a better question. Looking back into his kind eyes, you couldn't imagine reconciling the monster you just saw to the boy you could never admit you had a crush on. It was over, it was just a dream–with a shake of your head, you reassured him it was okay and that you just got overwhelmed. But just to make sure, an idea came to mind that you realized would probably seem a little odd.

Slowly, you took his hands in yours and pulled them up to meet your neck. The flicker of dread in his eyes calmed your nerves at once, as did the hesitant squeeze of his fingers digging into your skin, afraid to bruise it to the point that his grip shook. This was Max. There wasn't any doubt in your mind anymore.

“I love you, Max.” His eyes widened, but he wasn't surprised, rather curious about the timing. But he still smiled, and so easily returned it with an “I love you too” that it was obvious where he ended and the nightmare began. “Can we go back to the others?”

“Oh—yeah, yes, of course.” He nodded and held out his hand to help you up, one of them perched on your waist to steady you against him. “You sure you don't wanna-”

“I'm sure.” You nodded, but backpedaled in a second. “I-I mean, I want to, but…later. I'm just a little unsettled right now.”

“That's okay.” He brushed your hair from your eyes, careful to tuck it behind your ear and out of your face. It really felt like he was more, now. More than a friend or a trauma-bonded survivor. It was getting harder and harder to believe that you hadn't remembered any of this before this moment. Max bent down to pick his jacket up off the floor and draped it back around your shoulders, and as he helped you put your arms through it and buttoned it up over your chest, he chuckled. “Hey, when we make it out of here, we can draw it out as long as we want. No more rushing around and hiding in closets.”

The playful lilt of his voice couldn't help but bring a smile to your own lips. That was quite the notion; when all your energy was focused on survival, you hadn't even really thought about what your life would be like when it all came to an end. Much less what it would be like with Max at your side.

“I hope so.” Was all you could conjure up, but you meant it. There was so much more you wanted to ask, but it was never the right time. Maybe you could just ask all the hard questions the next time around. With one last kiss pressed to your lips, Max bent down to pick up his phone–but he nearly dropped it again when it buzzed suddenly, a message coming through after hours of getting no signal at all.

“What the hell?” He muttered, swiping the notification to open the chat. But when he did, and you spotted the preview of the video that was sent, your blood ran cold at the contents of the text alongside it.

> “Oops.”

#max until dawn

Trending Tags

Recently Viewed Tags

#max until dawn