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emilysholster · 10 months

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Satisfied (David Rossi x BAUAgent!Reader) Pt. 1/2

Summary: the tension building between you and Rossi becomes hard to ignore when he invites the team over for dinner

Tags: mentions of breakup, reader is in denial of feelings (but not for long 😼), flirting, unspecified age gap, so much tension that it’s basically edging at this point, also i made assumptions about the layout of his house ok, (fem!reader)

Translations: buonasera (good evening), bella (beautiful)

A/N: sorry I split this one into two parts just because it was getting so long <3 also please note I try to write the reader as neutral as possible, since it’s something I appreciate in fics as a woc myself. that being said, please point out to me if you ever feel that language I use in a fic is not as neutral as it could be in terms of skin colour, body type, etc.

Read Part Two

Maybe it was because you and your boyfriend of the past few years had just broken up, but it felt as though the energy between you and Rossi had been different as of late.

To be fair, you’d always found yourself drawn to the famed agent; not because of his reputation, but because you genuinely enjoyed being around him. Rossi was great at pushing you to be the best you could be and to think outside the box. He also had a knack for knowing exactly how you were feeling at a given time, often being the source of reassurance when you were down.

And all of these things still stood, but lately it was becoming more difficult than usual to keep your feelings for him strictly professional. At times, it felt as though you and Rossi were communicating things without words.

There would be instances where you could feel his eyes on you from across the room, without even looking at him. Other times, you’d be looking over details of a case together and he would somehow find a way to have a hand on you, whether it be on your shoulder or on the small or your back.

Even Emily had noticed the shift. She said as much when the two of you were out for lunch a few weeks ago.

“Hey what’s up between you and Rossi? Is that finally happening?”

You looked up at the brunette in alarm. “What? What do you mean?”

Emily gave you a look, telling you she was seeing right through you. “Look, I don’t know exactly what it is, but what I do know is that he seemed particularly interested that day when you were telling me about your breakup.”

At your incredulous look, she went on. “He was pretending to read a file in his hands 6ft behind you but it was obvious he was eavesdropping, Y/N.”

Emily smirked. “Deny all you want Y/N, but I see you fighting that smile.”

Despite all this, you still tried to push your feelings aside. He was a senior agent and you were technically the newest of the team, having been on it for about two years now. And who’s to say he wasn’t like this for the other team members? Maybe he just had a habit of taking people under his wing. It didn’t mean anything.

So, this was what you told yourself when Rossi’s eyes stayed on yours for a beat too long as he invited everyone over for dinner. It was what you told yourself when he said ‘see you tonight’ as he passed by your desk on his way out earlier today. And it was what you kept telling yourself when you reached Rossi’s house and rang the doorbell, stomach filled with butterflies.

It seemed like you were the first to arrive, as the other team members’ cars were nowhere to be seen. The door opened, and Rossi smiled when he saw you. “Buonasera, Y/N.” He greeted, ushering you in.

You were welcomed by the scent of the agent’s famous cooking, your mouth already watering. You could hear the soft sound of Italian music coming from what you presumed to be the dining room, making you smile to yourself. The man knew how to create ambiance.

“Is that a gift for me?” Rossi asked, turning to where you stood in the foyer.

You looked down at the cream coloured orchid plant you held in your hands, having momentarily forgotten it. “Oh! Yes. A housewarming present, since it is my first time here.” You handed the pot to the amused agent. “Your house is lovely by the way.”

“How nice, thank you.” He smiled softly, holding the plant up so he could admire the flowers. “If I’m remembering right, Ancient Greeks believed orchids to be symbols of virility, love, and passion.” At this, his eyes met yours, and you could feel your cheeks warming.

“Interesting,” you smiled, hoping it wasn’t obvious that you knew that already. A smirk played about Rossi’s lips as he placed your gift on the table in the foyer, just as a timer in the kitchen rang out. “Excuse me a second, Y/N. Make yourself at home, please.” He said over his shoulder as he walked over to the kitchen.

You began unbuttoning your coat as you walked to the dining room, shrugging it off and leaving you in the simple black dress you wore. You hung the coat behind a chair before noticing some pictures that were hung up on the wall opposite to you.

You walked over to study them closer. There was a black and white one of two people you assumed to be Rossi’s parents. His father had the same rich dark hair and build but his eyes and smile were clearly those of his mother.

Another photo was of a younger version of him standing with a team of people, probably from when he helped found the BAU. The one next to it was of him and Hotch, likely taken after solving a case.

You heard Rossi’s footsteps approaching and turned to see him holding two glasses of wine. He paused a few steps away, and you watched as his eyes roamed over your figure in a way that made your skin burn. “Look at you,” he said, almost to himself.

You smiled, grabbing a glass from his outstretched hand. “I like the photos you have up here.” You said, looking back at the framed pictures as he stood next to you.

“Arguably from my better days,” Rossi chuckled. You turned back to face him at this admission, surprised.

“Really? I would beg to differ,” you quipped, watching him as you took a sip of wine. Rossi’s gaze flickered down to your lips as you licked them.

“Would you now?” If you weren’t mistaken, there seemed to be a hint of suggestion in the older agent’s voice. You registered just then how close you two were standing.

Before you could come up with an intelligible response, the doorbell rang. Rossi gave you a knowing smile before leaving to answer it.

You let out a breath you didn’t realize you had been holding. Taking a large gulp of wine, you entered the kitchen just as Rossi and Emily did.

Emily raised a brow once she saw you, a devilish grin on her face that went unseen by Rossi. “And here I thought I was early.” She seemed delighted by your flushed appearance and the death glare you shot her way.

The rest of the team arrived fairly soon after that: Hotch, Reid, JJ, Morgan, and lastly, Penelope. Rossi served his famous lasagna for dinner, followed by tiramisu for dessert. It was clear he was proud of what he made and he revelled in the team’s praise.

Derek clutched his stomach after the meal. “Rossi, man. I think I’m gonna be in a coma after this.”

“I second that,” JJ laughed.

The team moved over to the living space, settling on the couches as they chatted away. You noticed Rossi carrying some dishes to the kitchen and decided to stay in the dining room and help clear the plates from the table.

A hand came to rest on the small of your back while you stacked the plates, startling you before you realized it was Rossi. He leaned in close to your ear. “What did you think of the food, bella? I’d like your personal review.”

You turned around to face him, now positioned in such a way that his hand rested on your hip while you leaned against the table. “And why is that?” You asked, smirking up at him.

“No reason,” he said, though his tone wasn’t convincing. “Just tell me.”

You giggled, leaning back slightly against your hands as they gripped the table. “It was delicious, Dave, really. You’re an amazing cook.”

Rossi seemed pleased with your answer. “And were you…satisfied?” This time you were sure he was alluding to something else.

You felt your throat go dry. He tilted his head as he studied your face and you felt the hand on your hip tighten its grip almost imperceptibly. “Well?”

Maybe it was the wine and the brimming tension of the evening that made you respond the way you did. “Almost.”

If you hadn’t been watching Rossi’s eyes intently, you would have missed it, but you swore you saw them darken. “Is that so,” he said lowly, his lips hovering near yours. You felt your your skin warm under his gaze, your face inching towards his.

“Hey Rossi, Y/N,” Derek called, startling the both of you into springing apart. “Quit cleaning and get over here. We’re playing poker.”

Your heart raced as you were abruptly reminded of the team sitting a few feet away. Thankfully, the two of you were obscured by a wall between the dining and living areas.

Rossi let out a deep sigh, expressing your mutual disappointment at being interrupted. He gave your hip a meaningful squeeze before heading over to where the rest of the team sat, with you trailing behind him.

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lostbetweenvampiresandmusic · 2 months

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11 and 14 with David 🫶🙂 I love ur writing it’s amazing

11. "Star said you were out of town."

14. "Do you want me to kiss it better?"

I hope you'll like this!💜

---------------------------

I sighed deeply as I locked my door behind me. The past couple of days had been exhausting. Making calls, day in, and day out. Running errands. Making sure everyone was exactly where they were supposed to be - which none of them were even if they were told multiple times where to go. Sure, organising the event had been fun, but damn - I'd be kidding if I said I felt alive at this very moment.

I dropped my bags on the welcoming mat, kicking my shoes off, dropping my coat on the floor. Tomorrow, I'd probably regret doing that and force myself to tidy it all up, but now I couldn't care less.

I walked into my kitchen, searching the cabinets for a wineglass. I knew I had them somewhere, but - this I also knew - I probably hadn't cleaned them up since last time I used them. It had been last Sunday when David had come by to wish me luck on my gig. I'd dropped the wineglasses in the sink the following morning, which is where they were right now. I really didn't want to clean them, so I decided to just pick a normal glass - it would still fulfil its purpose.

I grinned as I saw that the bottle was still half full, and with both glass and wine bottle in hand, I walked up the stairs to my bedroom. I'd decided on my trip back that tonight I'd do some well-deserved selfcare, have a good night's sleep afterwards, and sleep the day away.

The bathtub filled itself with hot water, the air quickly taking on the smell of my rosemary soap. I poured some wine in the glass before looking at it. It'd be easier to just drink straight from the bottle... putting the glass aside, I stepped into the bath, taking a long sip from the bottle.

The water was hot against my skin, soothing the soreness I'd gotten over the past few days. I closed my eyes, washed my body and hair, and only thought about getting out of the tub when the water turned cold. Once out, I decided that I had enough time and energy to also shave my legs - it's not that I thought it was a necessity to look nice, it's just that the softness of the blankets was much better appreciated with freshly saved legs. I put my bathrobe on, gathering everything I needed.

I sat on the edge of the bathtub, one leg on the outside used to keep myself steady, the other stretched so I could reach everything. I began to shave, working quickly - only to pause when I heard a strange noise.

A sound as if glass was slowly being broken, wood being pulled apart - I frowned. I listened. But when it stopped, I continued to shave. The first leg was done, and I moved to get access to the second. I was way less steady this time, still sitting on the edge of the tub, but now really needing to balance myself - the bathtub was still slippery and I didn't feel like actually turning around so I could feel a bit more balanced. I began to shave, and once again stopped when I heard a noise.

"Hello?"

No answer. I waited. Still nothing. I continued to shave, being almost done when suddenly -

"Hello kitten."

I jumped, slipping - my limbs went everywhere, and before I fully realised I was halfway upside down in the bathtub, my leg bleeding from a small cut made.

"Jesus fucking shit! You can't just barge in on people like that!"

David chuckled, taking my hand as he helped me up. "Sorry love. Are you alright?"

"Yeah, I think so."

He looked at me, kissing me softly, before I noticed his eyes taking on a slight hint of orange. "You're bleeding."

"You- have you fed?"

"I wouldn't endanger you." He grinned at me. "But you do smell divine."

"Awesome," I mumbled, looking at the cut. "It hurts, though."

"Do you want me to kiss it better?"

I bit my lip as I looked at him. "You just want to taste me."

"I think I've already done that many a time."

"Pervert."

He chuckled. Before I knew it, his mouth was on my leg, leaving soft wet kisses on the skin around the cut. I could have sworn I heard him moan when he actually licked up my blood.

"I- I eh think I'm okay now," I said softly, not trusting my voice.

"Come," he pulled me towards him, leading me to my bed. "How was your trip?"

I blinked - before telling him. How one of the bands had been running so late they'd missed their performance time, how angry they got when I told them that we could not switch around anymore, that they couldn't play. How two staged had happened to get the same name, and how every single artist got confused. How shitty the food was. But also about how wonderful it had been to see my vision come to live. How most of the artists had the time of their lives. Yeah, it had been great.

When I was done telling, I lay on his chest, smiling as he brushed his fingers through my hair. He'd taken the glass of wine I'd set aside taking a sip every now and then.

"Why did you step by? I mean, I wasn't supposed to be back until tomorrow."

"I saw your lights were on."

"Ah, you were stalking me again," I said with a grin, causing him to chuckle.

"No. I was just checking up. Star said you were out of town. Still that is."

"You worry about me?" I asked with a soft smile.

"You know what I think of you."

"Remind me." I grinned, trying to hide a yawn behind my hands.

"You're a bloody gift from heaven itself."

I chuckled. "You only say that because I'm your mate."

"It must be true then, hm?"

I smiled, sighing softly. "Will you stay with me?"

"I'll stay till dawn." He kissed me gently, wrapping a blanket around me. "Sleep tight, kitten."

#the lost boys #marko #david #paul #tlb #dwayne #the lost boys 1987 #tlb 1987 #star #the lost boys x reader

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silassinclair · 1 year

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Michael's Girl PT. 3 \\ PolyLostBoys + Michael x Reader

Summary: You're put to the test by David to see if you are truly worthy of being a vampire. And you witness a horror you could never imagine. CW: Blood, Gore, Vampires being Vampires

Previous Part <- 🖤 -> Next Part

Tonight was a night of celebration. Music blasted from Paul's boombox, Dwayne was doing skate tricks around the fountain, and Marko had returned with some food.

"Chinese again? Seriously? You better not be do what I think you're gonna do David." Michael said and looked over at the leader with an annoyed look.

David only shrugged. "What Michael? Worried your little girlfriend really isn't up for it?"

Michael glared at the blonde. Meanwhile you looked back and forth at the two in confusion. What exactly did David do to Michael? Your boyfriend didn't go into specifics with his whole vampire transformation process but you assumed it wasn't fun.

"She'll take whatever you throw at her, trust me. She's tougher than she looks. Brave too." Michael smiled pridefully and kissed your head.

David looks you in the eyes as he ushers for Marko to come forward with the food. "I can tell Michael. After all she did walk into a vampires den knowing full well the dangers of it all. She'll fit into our pack perfectly if she can pass my tests."

Marko handed everyone a white box carton of rice and noodles. While Michael ate his noodles with a fork you used chopsticks like David.

"So Y/n, how do those worms taste huh?"

The girl looked down at her open box of noodles, or rather, wiggling earth worms. She felt like she wanted to gag, she just ate one! But it didn't taste like worms, it still tasted like noodles. This had to be some kind of trick, most likely why Michael looked bothered when Marko brought back Chinese food.

You look up at David with a smirk of your own. "They taste divine David."

Vampires were still a mystery to you. But you assumed that some vampires had special abilities. Meaning that this was most likely an illusion created by David to scare you. However it didn't work, you saw right through it.

Taking another bite of the "worms" Paul and Dwayne started laughing.

"Damn! Tough chick dude. She didn't even gag. Unlike our buddy Mikey here, remember the first time David fucked with your head and made you think you were eating maggots? You coughed that shit up so quick!" Paul said while pointing his fork at Michael. Michael only rolled his eyes.

"Shut up. I didn't know alright?"

David smiles as he continues to eat his food. “You got guts girlie. You passed my first test. It’ll only get more difficult from here on…”

This week has been absolute INSANITY for me. First David makes me hang off the bottom of a bridge while a train comes by and I FALL but luckily he catches me, and second… Well second is about to happen soon I think.

I’m holding onto Michael while he follows along with the rest of the boys on their bikes. No one told me where we were going but only that this was one of the final tests. And I was nervous. Eventually we reach a clearing in the woods ways outside of the boardwalk. A giant bonfire is lit and surf nazi punks are dancing around the giant flames as a boombox plays music.

The boys and Michael get off their bikes and climb up a tree to scout out the surf nazis.

Less fluidly and easily as them I also climb up the tree. Dwayne sees me struggle and takes my hand to help pull me up the rest of the way.

“Thanks..” I mutter. He only nods.

I feel Michael's hands grab my hips and he helps move me so I sit next to him on a large branch. The other boys stand menacingly, their eyes glow in as they look at the flames of the bonfire the surf nazis dance around.

"What are we doing here?" I ask. Michael gives me a sympathetic look and I know that something bad is about to happen.

"This is your second to final test." David says with his signature sly smirk. "Let's see if you can handle what you're about to witness."

"After all-" Paul cuts in, "This is gonna be your everyday life. So don't get queasy on us okay dolly?"

I nod nervously. The tension grows tight around me. The five boy's auras have changed, I can feel it. Something is different. I look up worriedly at Michael only to gasp slightly when I see his vampiric face again. I look around at the others, all of their features sharp, eyes yellow, and teeth pointed.

They were gonna eat these people.

Right in front of me.

"Let's go boys!" David hollers and in the blink of an eye all five of them swoop down and pounce on their victims. Blood flies, flesh rips, heads roll. The scene was absolutely vile. The boys ate like animals, they didn't hesitate to rip limbs and let the blood fly. Michael however ate more neatly, for my sake most likely. Frozen I was, perched up on the branch where I sat.

My mind felt blank. Watching people of my own species get torn apart by pure predators. Human kind was the top of the food chain, but tonight proved to me otherwise.

When every nazi was dead all the boys but Michael cheered. Blood covered their clothes and gore and bones scattered about. My heart was racing and I knew they could hear it. It thumped like a battle drum, and I was ready to surrender that battle and run away. My legs had a mind of their own and screamed at me to run. Run away from the danger.

But my mind knew better. If I ran now then I would fail. And if I fail then I fail Michael and our relationship. I can't back down now, not after all I went through.

I hop down from the tree and approach Michael. My legs shake for every step I take closer to where the massacre occurred. I feel the crunch of bone snap under my shoe and I flinch.

"Y/n are you okay?" Michael asks worriedly. His face was morphed back to his human one, but blood was still smeared across his lips and the hands that held me.

My mind felt like it was floating away, but Michael caught it and brought it back to me with a kiss to my cheek. Snapping out of it I shakily reply, "I-I'm fine... After all this is what I'm gonna see for the rest of eternity right? So I better get used to it." I laugh light heartily.

"The sound of your heartbeat says otherwise." David says. He stands behind me with his three brothers beside him. Their hair is disheveled and even more blood coats their clothing and skin.

Michael gently holds me to him, his arms around me protectively hugging me to his waist. "She passed the test David, she didn't scream or run off. And it's only natural for her to be afraid, so give it a damn break."

"Oooo" Marko giggles, "Mikey's defending his girl. We've never seen you so ticked off before."

Paul and Dwayne laugh too but are silenced by David. "He's right. She passed, but let's see if she'll change her mind after seeing what she saw tonight."

You couldn't sleep. Even with Michael holding you protectively under the covers you still couldn't sleep. How could you? Every time you closed your eyes you heard the screams of men and saw their parts ooze and fly. Flashes of the boys and their vampiric faces, their teeth sinking into the flesh of human beings.

"Baby..." Michael said tiredly. His rough hands rubbed up and down your bare arm. "Your heartbeat is loud... What's wrong?" Michael says as he rubs the sleep form his eyes.

"What do you mean 'what is it?'" You say with a firm frown. "I saw people die tonight Michael. I know I shouldn't be fazed by it but I am! I'm scared!"

Your boyfriend leans up and tries to look at your face, but you're turned away.

"Please look at me baby. Don't turn your back to me now. Especially not now."

You turn around to face him and he softens. You've been crying. Red swollen eyes and puffy cheeks.

"Don't tell yourself that you have to not feel fazed. Because it's your human instinct telling you something is wrong, and that's okay. Let yourself be scared, let yourself cry, I'll be here for you the whole way through okay?"

Letting out a shaken breath you let yourself crumble against Michael's bear chest. Broken hiccups and sobs escape your lips and Michael combs his fingers through your hair.

"Shhh shhh shhh, it's okay baby. You're gonna be okay. I know you're scared, I understand because I've been there too. But it won't be so bad, I won't leave your side okay?"

You nod against Michael's chest, not wanting to be even a millimeter apart from him.

"I know I can do this Michael... But I don't have it in me to take someone's life."

Michael thinks for a moment. Until he calms your nerves by gently petting your head. "I think I have a temporary solution." Michael says.

"Like what?"

"Well, what if for the first weeks that you're a vampire, I'll make the kills for you? All you have to do is eat what I kill. You can do that right?"

"Uhm." You think for a moment. Eating people was okay to you if you were a vampire, that part didn’t gross you out like you expected it would. Just the killing factor frightened you.

“That’ll work.” You respond with a hesitant smile. “But will David be okay with that?”

Michael rolls his eyes. “Screw David. If my girl wants to take it slow and easy for her first weeks of being a vampire then she can. David can go crawl in his cave and pout all he wants for all I care.” His hands caress your face, fingertips gliding along all his favorite features.

You place a kiss to his fingers when they glide across your lips. “Thank you Michael. What would I do without you?”

He only smiles and brings your face forward for a warm kiss.

You woke up not to the sun, but instead sunset. Michael also rose and stretched with a yawn.

“Hey baby, sunrise and shine.” He says with a corny grin.

Instead of getting up like your boyfriend you hide under his bedsheets. “I’m never gonna get used to your vampire schedule.”

He laughs lightly and kisses your hair that peeks from the top of your sheets. “That’s what I thought at first, but soon enough you’ll adjust just fine. Now come on baby, we gotta go to the cave and meet the guys to see if you’re ready to drink from the bottle.”

You assumed the bottle he was talking about was the bottle of blood he was tricked into drinking.

"So it really is blood huh?" You say and poke your head out through the bundle of blankets you took sanctuary under.

Giving you a sad smile Michael embraces you through the bundle of blankets you're under, making you get warm fast.

"Mhm. Yeah it's true sweetheart. But it isn't so bad. Maybe you can take a hit off of Paul's blunt to make it not as bad? That's what I did at least." Michael grins cockily as he rocks you back and forth.

"Michaeeelll" You whine, "I'm still nervous."

In one sudden motion he rips the blankets off of you making you scream and curl in on yourself to keep whatever warmth you still have inside. Suddenly your boyfriend huffs and picks you up with his strength.

"Michael stop it! Put me down you big stud!" Though you're smacking him to put you down your laughter counters your physical attacks on him.

"No can do baby, gotta shake the nerves outta you."

Michael then holds you like a bride and rocks you back and forth like a baby, making you blush embarrassingly bright.

"Okay okay stop rocking me! I'm not a baby you buffoon!" You start to flail around more in his arms making him grunt and plop you down onto the bed.

Michael gives you his million dollar smile and quietly asks, "You feeling better now?"

Sitting on your knees you sit up and press a soft kiss to Michael's chin. "Yeah, you're little therapy worked surprisingly. I'm surprised I didn't get motion sick!"

Michael rolls his eyes and grabs your hands to help you off the bed in one swift swoop.

"Well what are we waiting for? Let's get you turned babe."

(sorry this was short yall. Kinda rushed and I wanted to get David's silly shenanigans out of the way. Not proof read btw.)

#the lost boys x reader #poly lost boys x reader #poly!lost boys x reader #michael emerson x reader #michael emerson #david the lost boys #paul the lost boys #dwayne the lost boys #marko the lost boys #the lost boys

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themarginalthinker · 8 months

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Just Breathe

(Michael might be a vampire now, but that doesn't mean his body has quite caught up yet. David takes him to a place to get a feel for it.

Headcanons: vampires can technically breath, but it takes a bit for the body to recognize it doesn't have to, and David helps Michael adjust. tw: deep water, lightless water, drowning technically but they're immortal and fine.)

Vampires are not human. This, Michael knows.

But sometimes the extent of how much 'not human' and what that exactly means, still surprises him.

"It used to be an old quarry," David explains. "So the water should be still enough for you."

The both of them, really, but Michael and his stupid little bane especially. (Fitting, he sometimes thinks. David with his extra aversion to sunlight, and Michael with his extra aversion to running water. What a pair.)

The quarry in question lies before them, the lake that's been made from it a mirror disk of silver and black in the night. It stretches on quite far, having been purposefully flooded years and years ago when the company decided to stop carving stone. As they pick their way down the slight slope to it, they pass massive chunks of rock - marble, Michael was told - laying around beside the water. Time has weathered them, plants an green moss and fungal lichens having reclaimed a lot of it, though the rectangular stonework is still visible.

They come to the waterside, a level, sandy, dirt bank that leads down into the unknown. David starts stripping, Michael following him after a moment. He still cannot help but flick eyes about, to the shoreline, listening deeper into the woods. Just to be sure.

"If there's anyone around, they won't get an eyefull of much before we're below," David says, having heard Michael's concern through the bond.

Michael smirks a little. "More than you," he says.

David throws a boot at him and it nails him pretty good in the head.

"Jerkwad," Michael says, smarting, but still smiling.

"Dipshit. Finish up," David replies, waiting.

He does, folding his clothing neatly and setting it beside David's. Michael pads over to David, closer to the water's edge. Naked as the day he was born.

Believe it or not, this wasn't the first time he'd been skinnydipping with anyone - even outside of the boys. But it certainly wasn't with this specific purpose. The humor of the banter drains a little from Michael as the ground under him goes damp and cool.

David's hands are at his arms. He's quiet when he speaks, pressing against Michael's mind knowing he needs it.

"So, I know we talked about it before, but it's worth saying again. You're not gonna like it, but we gotta do it."

Michael, ironically, takes a breath.

"Yeah. I know. You...said this was better than what Max did?"

David scoffs, humorlessly. "Oh yeah. Hand around the throat, crushed trachea and everything. Surprised the motherfucker didn't use a garrot."

God, damn. Michael had only met the man twice in his life, and he still shivers remembering him.

He and his ghoulish 'teaching' methods weren't why they were here tonight though. No, why the two vampires were standing by the lakeside of a flooded quarry in the middle of the night, was a tad more pleasant. Ish.

David was going to teach Michael how to stop breathing.

Apparently, even after becoming a vampire, the body...didn't just stop. Even after having descending into the void, a place with no time or memory or concept of real being, when you pulled back into your body again, life still wormed its way into the cracks. Vampire's hearts beat, though so, so slowly. And they breathed. Especially new ones.

Which could become a problem if they couldn't purposefully stop it when need came time.

Michael had tried doing it before, but failed.

"No, no, you're not not breathing, you're just holding your breath," Paul had said when they'd attempted it a few times before.

"I don't understand what the difference is?" Michael had asked.

"It's not- like, it's not just not breathing, it's like...you don't want to breath."

Made little sense, and had been even less useful in getting him there, so David was taking the approach he did with the rest of them. Gentler, he'd said, than how Max had taught him.

So, to the bottom of a lakebed they went.

David stepped first, wading in, and then, the water glinting in the moonlight at his pale skin, and then, glancing back, dipped under.

Michael took another breath. Fuck. Against the point, here.

He took to the water, baring his teeth against the cold of it, even in summer. The 'floor' of the lake here was gritty, the same sand, but quickly moving to mud, soft and his feet sinking in. Soon the water passed his knees, his hips, his chest. He kept feeling along the bottom, waiting for the dropoff that he knew was there.

He didn't get there on his own.

Michael's yelp is rather pitiful in the quiet night air when two cold, clammy arms wrap around his waist from below, and yank him under.

Michael flails for a moment, knowing, knowing it's just David, but still not expecting it. He kicks out, elbowing the vampire back, who gives him a little space.

Hands move around him, and Michael reaches out for them with his own. They grab each other, and having gotten his bearings, Michael lets David pull him. Down.

Down, down into the inky blackness. Even during the day, light wouldn't filter too deep here. When above, there's always some kind of light for them to see by. The moon, the stars, firelight or streetlights from the town, always a bit of skyglow their sensitive eyes could pick up on.

Here, there is nothing. A wall of blackness swamping the senses. Water dulling sound into odd vibrations Michael swore he could feel against his skin as they went, constant sensation of currents and movement. Lake plants, rocks.

Unknown Things in the blackness.

Michael could feel it in the back of his head as they reached the bottom. The wet, loamy settled material at the lakebed sunk between his feet as he slipped, and 'fell' backwards at David's pushing. Their bond practically hummed between them, the only form of communication open to them now. Calm. Settle. Everything's fine.

Yes...Michael knew that on an intellectual level. But as the moments ticked by, as David's hands on his arms didn't leave, as Michael kicked to keep himself from floating back upwards, he.

He couldn't help but feel it. The need to open his mouth and take in air.

Michael knows it's not necessary. It's an old reflex, that was still useful to have of course to talk and smell and look human and all those things. But it didn't want. To turn off.

He makes a sharp jerk, and David's suddenly wrapped around him. He's heavy against Michael, even in the water. Shoving back when Michael shoves up, spinning them back around to square one when it seems like Michael will wiggle free.

Air, fuck, Michael could feel the panic he didn't want building in the back of his head, quickly starting to build to the front, he needed air, he would figure something else out, he had to get away-!

A knee connected with Michael's sternum, and the impact rocked through him. A cloud of bubbles erupted from his chest, popping as they went.

Cold, cold water flooded in.

Like ice and lead at the same time. Michael feels it fill him up, a shaking convulsion at a time, grit sliding past his teeth, a weight settling into his chest. Heavy. Full. Cold, and sinking, and. Calmer. Too heavy to push against at the moment.

And just like that, Michael knows stillness.

No breathing.

A heartbeat so slow it was more like the swaying of the water around them.

There are hands at his shoulders. A ringing apology in the bond for the roughness, but he understands now. Before, when he'd been human, summer at the pool or riverside meant that getting water up your nose, breathing it in, meant burning, rough hacking. A pain as the body tried to expel the offending contaminant. A person can drown in a couple tablespoons of water, after all.

Michael was not drowned, now. He moves his arms, slowly, his legs. Pushing off the bottom, but he doesn't rise. No buoyancy to carry him up, save for his own power.

Like without air, he's part of the water, surrounded inside and out.

Suspended.

David's hands shift, to his face. Michael does the same. Across the bond, so strong now here, in the black utter silence it's almost visible, almost audible, their thoughts to each other, a question is asked.

Michael agrees.

Might as well explore some while they were here.

#the lost boys #the lost boys 1987 #drabbles #david and michael #david tlb #michael emerson #vampires are funky and also can you fucking imagine getting attacked by an aquatic vampire while skinnydipping with someone #fucking terrifying lmao #thalassophobia

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livesincerely · 6 months

Text

hungry like the wolf

Also on Ao3. Rated E

00000

“So,” Jack starts, once they’ve both gotten their drinks, drumming his fingers against the bar top.

The absolutely gorgeous man sitting on the stool next to him swirls his vodka cranberry around in its glass, then takes a sip, vividly blue eyes peering at him from over the rim.

“So,” he agrees. “I guess there’s no point in beating around the bush. Are you…” he searches for the right word, something sheepish—chagrined, almost—tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Interested? No hard feelings if you aren’t, I know this wasn’t your idea—“

He shakes his head, then runs a weary hand over his forehead, further ruffling an already tousled head of curls.

“Just tell Sarah it didn’t work out. Feel free to blame me if you need to, she already thinks I’m hopeless so she’ll believe it if you say I ran you off. I’ll pay for your beer, give you some cash for a cab home—“

“Hang on a sec,” Jack interrupts before he can be politely hustled out the door. “What makes you think ‘m not interested?”

That seems to draw him up short. “Are you?”

“I could be,” Jack says, and he’s proud of himself for how nonchalant he manages to sound. “I’m mostly just kinda confused, Sarah didn’t exactly go int’a much detail. Maybe you can fill me in on the rest and we can go from there? You’re a succubus?”

“Sarah’s a succubus,” he corrects, relaxing back into his seat. “I’m an incubus—well, half, anyway—but it’s basically the same thing. And it’s honestly not that big a deal, Sarah just thinks that now that she and Katherine are engaged she needs to meddle in my love life too. My name’s David, by the way,” he tacks on as an afterthought, “in case she forgot to mention.”

“It did come up, funnily enough,” Jack replies with a grin. “It’s good ta meet ya, Dave. I’m Jack Kelly.”

“Jack Kelly,” Davey repeats slowly, as if testing the shape of the name in his mouth. “And what, exactly, did my sister have to bribe you with to convince you to come here tonight, Jack Kelly?”

“Well, don’t say it like that,” Jack laughs, leaning closer. “It ain’t like she had’ta twist my arm. All she told me was that she had a brother that was coming off a break up and hadn’t eaten in a while, and maybe would I be willing ta meet up with him, see if we’d hit it off.”

“It wasn’t a breakup,” Davey huffs, exasperated. “I told Sarah that Tony and I weren’t— I had an arrangement with a good friend of mine, we’ve known each other for years and we had a system in place. But then he went and fell in love with a Selkie,” —Davey rolls his eyes but his mouth curls into a smile, soft and small and fond— “and left me high and dry. And I guess getting back into the dating pool just seemed like a lot more trouble than it’s worth.”

Jack pauses.

“…Are you interested in any of this?” he asks carefully. “‘Cause I get it, going along with something ‘cause your sibling strong-armed you into it, so feel free ta tell me ta fuck off, I won’t be offended—“

“No,” Davey blurts, reaching out to grab Jack’s forearm to stop him from rising. “No, that’s not— I’m not— I’m not, not interested, it’s just —“

His gaze drops for a moment, shoulders slumping as he lets out a sigh.

“Dating’s hard,” he quietly admits. “Especially for me, I tend to have the absolute worst luck with partners. If they’re not weird about the incubus thing then they turn out to be complete assholes. So, I usually don’t even bother.”

“But,” Jack starts, confused for multiple reasons, not the least of which is the fact that someone who looks—and Christ, smells—like David Jacobs does should easily have his pick of partners. “Don’t’cha need’ta eat? I mean, how does that work if you don’t—“

“I can eat regular food,” Davey clarifies. “I’m not, like, starving or anything, I get by just fine.” He tilts his head, considering. “I guess the best way to describe it is that it isn’t as filling, isn’t as satisfying, as actual sex.”

Jack’s glad that Davey’s the one to say it first—sex. Something about putting it to words, admitting plainly, what they’re both here for, feels like a point of no return.

He takes another drink of his beer to ease a suddenly parched throat, a hot prickle of desire racing down his spine. He wonders if Davey can feel it too: the hum of connection that starts to spark in air, the vast chasm of possibility that seems to have opened up beneath them. As if hearing Jack’s thoughts, Davey pauses—there’s the slightest hesitation, those blue eyes flashing, as if he can sense sexual attraction like a bloodhound scenting the air—but he continues without comment.

“It’s not even about having sex, not really,” Davey explains. “It’s about the energy of it, being a conduit of that energy, whatever form that might take. Just being around sex, facilitating it, manipulating it, is enough for some. Lots of incubi work as sort-of professional wingmen, or as consultants on porn sets or sex shops—they can be close enough to eat without having to actually engage in any… activities themselves, if they don’t want to.”

Davey taps his fingers against the side of his glass, rolls his shoulders back, then says, “So, don’t feel obligated, is what I’m trying to say. I only want to do this if we’re both interested, and for the right reasons.”

“I promise ya, the last thing I’m feelin’ is obligated,” Jack drawls. “Jus’ as long as we’re both on the same page.”

But Davey still looks uncertain.

“And you’re okay with the whole…” He makes a vague hand-wavy motion over himself. “I’m told my aura can be a touch… overwhelming, once it starts to take effect.”

“‘M not too worried,” Jack says with a shrug. “Werewolves are immune to almost everything—lycanthropy doesn’t exactly play well with other types of magic. Mother Moon tends to be pretty possessive of her children, I guess.”

“Sounds handy,” Davey says.

“‘S got its uses,” Jack agrees. “So you don’t gotta worry ‘bout enchantin’ me or nothin’.” He offers up his most charming smile. “At least, not any more than you already have.

A laugh bubbles off of Davey’s lips. His entire demeanor seems to brighten several clicks, like drawing back a curtain to let in the sun.

“That was smooth!” he accuses, sounding utterly delighted about it.

“I try,” Jack says, just as captivated, grinning right back. “Hopefully, I’m doin’ somethin’ right. You strike me as the kinda guy that’s pretty damn hard’ta impress.”

“Oh, believe me, you’re already head and shoulders above most of my past failures,” Davey says.

“You’re joking,” Jack says, disbelieving. “Been seein’ some real gems, have ya, cariño?”

“If only,” Davey scoffs. “You should’ve seen the last guy, he couldn’t even—“

Davey stops. Then Davey blushes, a flush of pink warming his face.

“Oh, there’s definitely a story there,” Jack says, drinking him in. He feels a little intoxicated, and not from the alcohol. “Spill, Jacobs.”

“There’s not much to say,” Davey lies—so terribly that it’s obvious even without the tell-tale skip in his heartbeat. “The fact that you’re not groping me under the table or visibly drooling is already an excellent sign. If we actually make it to a bed without incident I’ll be thrilled. And even then, most of them usually can’t manage to… aren’t able to…”

He trails off, awkward, and all at once the heart of the problem becomes obvious.

“Oh,” Jack realizes. “They can’t keep up with you.”

Davey’s blush deepens, which is only spurs Jack on.

“Of course they can’t,” Jack continues, shaking his head. “Eres guapísimo—it’s a miracle their damn brains didn’t melt out their ears.”

“It’s not funny, Davey protests, but it’s a halfhearted effort at best. “The last guy I tried to hookup with came in his pants in the back of an Uber—we didn’t even make it four blocks! I wasn’t even touching him. Then he didn’t understand why I was absolutely uninterested in doing anything except going home, alone. And then,” Davey leans closer, starting to gesture with his hands as talks, “he tracked me down on venmo a few days later and tried to stick me with his dry cleaning bill!”

Jack can’t help it: he barks out a laugh. “He didn’t!”

“Yes he fucking did!” Davey insists. “And, honestly, I’m not sure if that even cracks the top ten of ‘David Jacobs’ Tragic Attempts at Romance’—“

“There’s worse?” Jack asks. “Christ, sweetheart, I’m startin’ ta feel like I should be properly wining and dining ya, help make up for some of the assholes.”

“You won’t be making up for anything if you don’t stop laughing at me,” Davey grumbles, but he’s not truly annoyed—there’s a playful spark behind his eyes, anticipation written into every line of his body. “Besides, who’s to say you won’t be more of the same?”

“Ain’t gonna happen,” Jack says, confident.

“Sounds like someone’s sure of themselves,” Davey muses, arching a brow.

“Sounds ta me like the bar ain’t that high,” Jack counters with a cheeky grin. “Don’t be an inconsiderate dickhead and don’t tap out pathetically early—shouldn’t be too difficult.”

“And you think you can handle it?”

“If there’s one thing a werewolf’s got in spades,” Jack purrs. “It’s stamina.”

Davey’s eyes go deliciously dark.

“You’re not cute,” he informs Jack pertly, and the challenge in his voice probably isn’t meant to be as enticing as it is. Probably.

“Oh, sweetheart,” Jack says, and he lets his fangs drop as he leans forward, running his tongue over the razor sharp canines that peek out from underneath his smirk. “I’m fucking adorable.”

He doesn’t miss the way Davey’s eyes drop to his mouth, the way his throat bobs around a swallow. Jack just barely resists the urge to preen under his attention.

Without lifting his gaze, Davey says, in a voice that’s gone whiskey-smooth, “Shall we head out then?”

“Don’t’cha wanna finish your drink first?” Jack teases. “An’ I still got half a beer left.”

In answer, Davey tips his head back and downs the rest of his drink in one go, then he reaches over and plucks Jack’s beer out of his now slack grip and tosses that back too.

The empty glass lands against the bar top with a solid thunk but it’s barely a blip on Jack’s radar. Because Davey cups a hand around Jack’s jaw and draws him into a long, searing kiss. He tastes of hops and wolfsbane, cranberry and vodka, and something that must be uniquely Davey—warm and smokey and with a hint of bite.

Davey pulls away just enough for Jack to see the deep blue of his eyes, the thick canopy of his lashes. “And now?”

It takes Jack a second to find his voice, the keys in the ignition but the engine refusing to turn over. He rasps, “After you.”

00000

Davey’s apartment ends up being about ten minutes away, but god it feels like an eternity. They walk through the bustling sidewalks, street lamps and stars lighting their way, their hands not-quite brushing, their eyes not-quite meeting.

When they reach their destination, Davey works the deadbolt open, ushering him inside with a knowing smirk. Jack lets him hang up his jacket and keys, watches him nudge the door shut with his hip, then pins him up against it and slots their mouths together for another heated kiss.

Davey pulls him in immediately, his hands grabbing at Jack’s collar, tugging him closer, the press of his mouth sweet and soft. Jack sighs into him, lifting his chin for a better angle, hands fumbling for the hem of Davey’s sweater, running calloused fingertips over the small of his back, the curve of his waist.

“Wait, wait,” Davey pants against his mouth. He twists out of Jack’s embrace, then darts around the corner into what must be the kitchen. Befuddled and horny, Jack lumbers after him.

He finds him rummaging around in his fridge.

“Do you have a preference for Gatorade?” Davey asks. “I’ve got red and purple.”

“What?” Jack says, stupidly. “Uh, red, I guess.”

Davey hums in response. Under his breath he mutters to himself, “I’ll grab two, just to be safe.”

He nudges the refrigerator door closed with his hip, then turns and opens a cabinet. He pulls out a box of granola bars and grabs a handful.

“Dave, what are you doing?” Jack finally asks.

“Getting supplies,” Davey says, as though this should be obvious. “Can’t have you passing out on me.”

“I think I’ll be okay,” Jack says, bemused, stepping closer. “‘M made of pretty stern stuff.”

“Oh, so lycanthropy protects you from low blood sugar, now, does it?” Davey asks, pinning him with a spectacularly bitchy look. God, Jack’s already so fucking stupid for this man, it’s embarrassing. “Keeps your electrolytes properly balanced? Wow, that must be one hell of a party trick—“

“Alright, alright, point taken,” Jack says, curling himself around Davey’s back, letting his hands settle low over his hips. “You’re the expert, I’ll let you handle it.”

“Did you already have dinner?” Davey wonders. “I should’ve asked earlier, while we were still at the bar… Do you want something to eat? I can get you something—“

“What I really want is to get back’ta kissing you,” Jack murmurs, pressing his lips to the hollow behind Davey’s ear; Davey goes gratifyingly still in his arms, his pulse fluttering delicately beneath his skin. “So, if I promise to let you know the moment I get thirsty and have a big breakfast in the mornin’, can we please move you and your Gatorade somewhere more comfortable?”

“…and the granola bars,” Davey bargains.

“And the granola bars,” Jack easily concedes. “I’ll even eat one right now if it’ll make you feel better.”

Davey chews at his lip, hesitating. “Would you?” he implores softly.

Jack’s never choked down a granola bar so fast in his life.

Reluctantly reassured, Davey allows himself to be drawn into another kiss—gentle, at first, but it quickly becomes filthy—all tongues and teeth, gasps and sighs, moans and groans. They’re tangled together: Jack’s hands threaded in Davey’s hair, Davey’s thigh pressed hot and hard between his legs, the smoking embers of desire sparking into flame.

“Bedroom?” Jack manages to tear himself away long enough to ask.

“Bedroom,” Davey agrees, and long, elegant fingers curl around Jack’s wrist, dragging him down the hallway.

Jack barely gets a chance to take in the bed before Davey’s pushing him down onto it, lifting himself up and straddling him in a single fluid move. Jack’s hands land on his waist, then slip down to cup his ass, and there’s something heady in the air, linen and woodsmoke twinning together, like lazy winter nights spent in front of the fireplace, wrapped snugly in a blanket, toasty and warm and wonderous.

“Christ,” Jack growls, almost helplessly, against the hollow of his throat, not really meaning to be heard. “How do you smell so fucking good?”

“Sex demon, remember?” Davey says, laughing, rocking their hips together in a rough, dirty grind. “Guess it just comes with the territory.”

“I’ll show you territory,” he mutters, leaning in with intent. He tracks a path along Davey’s neck with his lips, then follows it back with his teeth, working a bruise into the column of his throat. Davey squirms under his attention, tipping his head back to give him better access, and that tiniest hint of surrender drives some bestial part of Jack’s subconscious absolutely wild, pressing in again and again and again.

He pulls away to admire his handiwork.

“Possessive,” Davey notes, his eyes dark with a special sort of relish.

“Oh, you’d know all about possession, wouldn’t you sweetheart,” Jack banters back, brushing one final kiss to the delicate skin.

Davey goes very still, and for one horrible moment Jack worries he’s overstepped. But then he smiles, his scent spiking—sweet and smoky and downright delectable—like the most mouthwatering caramel and somehow just as thick.

“Oh, darling,” Davey says, and Jack can feel his hand draped over the nape of his neck, fingertips just barely brushing against the skin, sending electric tingles down his spine. “I might just have to keep you.”

“You’re killin’ me, Jacobs,” Jack’s groans, his heart pounding double-time in his chest. “Clothes. Off. Fuck.”

They separate just enough to strip: Jack pulls his shirt over his head, and when Davey doesn’t manage to tear out of his sweater—and the button up he’s wearing underneath, fucking hell—within the point five seconds Jack can stand to keep his hands to himself, he starts helping with those too, eager to uncover every square inch of skin.

“How do you want to do this?” Davey asks as he kicks out his pants. Jack barely hears him, he’s too busy staring: his ass and thighs could’ve been carved from marble, works of the finest art. “Top or bottom?”

“I’m good either way,” Jack answers, fighting with his own belt. “This is your party, Dave. Dealer's choice.”

“I think I want you inside me,” Davey decides, giving him a long once over. “At least for this round.”

“Fine by me,” Jack rasps. “Here, I think I gotta condom in my wallet—“

Davey stops him with a hand on his arm. “I… would you be totally against going without?” he asks. “I’m clean and I can’t catch anything, regardless… I assume you can’t either?”

“Advanced healing,” Jack confirms thickly, the words feeling clumsy in his mouth. “I’m game if you are. But, fair warning, without a condom it’s gonna be… messy.”

“Messy sounds perfect,” Davey says lowly, and there’s a flash of pink as he runs his tongue over teeth.

Jack’s dick throbs, pre-cum beading at the tip.

“Fuckin’—“ Jack bites off the rest, grabbing Davey by the hips and wrestling him down onto the bed. He can barely think through wanting him, settling in the vee of those perfect thighs, the press of bare skin against bare skin utterly exhilarating. “Drivin’ me crazy—“

“God, your hands,” Davey groans, his eyes half-lidded and heavy. “Please, please touch me.”

Jack winds a hand down between them. He’s just barely cupped his fingers under Davey’s balls—gentle, tentative—when Davey gives a full-body jolt, rearing up so suddenly that they almost headbutt each other.

“Whoa,” Jack yelps. “You okay?“

Davey’s mouth works soundlessly for a few moments. He’s flushed so deeply that it bleeds down his throat and chest, painting him in a wash of rosy pink.

“Scratch that,” he finally gasps out. “Get inside me.”

“Now?”

“Now,” Davey insists, expression wild and a touch desperate. “Just come here— oh, oh fuck—“

Jack scrambles to line himself up at Davey entrance. Confused, maybe a little panicked, he says, “But I didn’t prep ya—“

“I’m fine, it’s fine, just, please—“

And there’s no resistance as Jack slides home, Davey’s body accepting him easily, eagerly, hot and tight and gloriously good.

“Jesus, sweetheart,” Jack murmurs, watching Davey’s wide-eyed expression, a little overwhelmed at the sight he makes splayed out against the sheets, writhing in what can only be described as ecstasy as Jack bottoms out. “I knew ya needed it but I didn’t realize how badly.”

“Sorry,” Davey says. His lips are red and kiss-swollen, his hands fisted into the bedding on either side of him, but he still manages to say, his chest heaving, “I didn’t mean to lose it like that. I guess it really has been a while…” He blinks hard. “Did I freak you out too badly or are you okay to keep going?”

“Ain’t like I'm gonna take off, is it?” Jack muses. He pulls out just a bit, then carefully thrusts back in, sinking even further into that exquisite heat. “I’m literally balls deep inside you.”

“Consent is a continuous contract,” Davey lectures, because it tracks that Davey’s the type that can host a whole goddamn seminar while Jack is trying to fuck him stupid. But not even he can hide how his words are a breathless rasp, that his voice threaded with aching, blatant desire. “It can be retracted or reassessed at any time—“

He breaks off with another gasp as Jack rolls his hips forward, nice and slow, then does it again, starting up a steady rhythm.

“Quierdo, unless you say otherwise, they’d have to drag me off of you by my hair,” Jack vows, not entirely sure if he’s exaggerating or not. There’s just something about Davey—the snark and sweetness and sin of him—that draws him in, beckons him closer, makes something deep inside of him pant and tremble and howl. “Is this good for you? Less or more or…?”

“More,” is Davey’s immediate response. “More, oh god, please more—“

Jack leans in and kisses him then, unable to resist, and Davey arches into him like he’s starving for it—Christ, he probably is.

He lingers there for a long moment, their mouths moving together, fierce and frenzied. Then he ducks his head and presses his nose into the space just under Davey’s jaw because he has to, has to lick and nibble and mark all that delicious, delectable skin, and Davey makes a noise that’s pure want. He tilts his head, baring his already bruised throat for another round of marks, and Jack can’t help the rumbling growl that carves its way out of his chest, deep and possessive.

“Oh, fuck,” Davey moans, his heels digging sharper into the small of Jack’s back.

He feels untethered, unmoored, waves of pleasure battering at the hull of the ship, threatening to upend him at any moment. His hips snap forward, almost of their own accord, and he finds a solid, steady pace that’s just this side of brutal. There’s the slap of skin against skin, gasps and groans, the smell of burnt-sugar-sweetness growing heavy in the air, so strong that Jack can almost taste it.

Davey gives as good as he gets: rocking into each of Jack’s thrusts, tugging at Jack’s hair until he moans, his gaze growing darker and darker until his eyes are almost black, and god he’s so fucking gorgeous. The molten vice of him is like nothing else: searing, sizzling heat, hot enough to smolder and scorch, and impossibly, exquisitely tight. Fuck. Fuck.

Davey lets out a lovely little whimper, grabbing for Jack’s shoulders, and Jack realizes a moment too late that his thrusts are starting to catch against Davey’s hole, the base of his cock beginning to swell.

“Ah, shit,” Jack groans, recognizing that familiar tightening deep in his gut. “Dave, I think I’m gonna— My knot, it’s— Should I—?”

“Your… knot?”

“Werewolf thing,” Jack grunts. “Want me to pull out?”

“Don’t you fucking dare,” Davey orders, locking his ankles over the small of Jack’s back. “Give it to me.”

Jack couldn’t resist, even if he wanted to. His hips stutter, pistoning strokes turning to rough, dirty grinds. He presses in one last time, nice and deep, then his vision goes white as his orgasm rushes over him.

“Oh,” Davey mewls as Jack’s knot locks inside of him, his mouth slack with bliss. “Oh, that’s— Oh, oh, oh, oh—!”

He comes with a silent scream, the hot clench of his body squeezing around him as he trembles and pants, and Jack can only hold him—hold onto him—nuzzling at his sweaty temple as he rides it out.

“Okay?” Is the first thing Davey mumbles when he finds his voice again.

“Pretty sure I should be askin’ you that,” Jack murmurs fondly. “But ‘m fine.”

“Good.”

Davey shifts slightly, testing the pull of their bodies; Jack hisses, grabbing for his thigh to keep him close as another burst of pleasure spills out of him.

“Sensitive,” Jack rasps, and the sudden worry in Davey’s expression clears, replaced by understanding.

“Oh,” Davey says, biting his lip. His thigh flexes in Jack’s grip. “Do you think we can flip over or is that asking too much?”

With a bit of maneuvering, Jack manages, cradling him close to his chest as they bask in the afterglow.

“How long until it goes down?” Davey asks after a few long moments of breathing and cuddling and laying together, tracing patterns over Jack’s bicep with his fingertips.

“Uh, fifteen minutes on the short side,” Jack says. “Maybe half an hour on the long.”

“Hmm,” Davey acknowledges. He brushes his hair out of his face and shifts back on his haunches, settling down so that he’s properly straddling Jack’s lap. Jack cracks an eye open, confused, but before he can ask, Davey says, “Tell me if this is too much,” and clenches his ass around Jack’s knot.

Jack’s eyes fly open, a harsh, strangled sound clawing its way out of his throat.

Davey’s watching him intently—smug and expectant and far too pleased with himself—a king perched on his throne.

“Oh, darling,” Davey purrs, working his hips in a tight, devastating circle. “Surely you didn’t think I was anywhere close to finished with you?”

Jack’s hands shoot to Davey’s hips: not to keep him still so much as to give himself something to hold on to, his grip bruisingly tight.

But Davey only seems to delight in this reaction. He hums, low in the back of his throat, his scent smoldering with fresh arousal, his eyes shining with self-satisfaction.

“Too much?” Davey asks again, and Jack can’t find the words to answer with. His entire body is alight, his nerves strung out and sparking, dancing right on edge between terrible pleasure and delicious pain. Then Davey rocks up, squeezing and tugging at Jack’s swollen knot.

“Dave,” he gasps, ragged, the word torn from him.

He can barely keep his eyes open, can barely breathe through how thoroughly Davey’s destroying him, but it’s worth it just to take it all in. Because Davey is an absolute vision above him, all lean, sensual strength, his neck and chest flushed with effort, taking his pleasure and dragging Jack right along with him.

“Jack,” Davey says, more firmly this time, and Jack realizes that his lashes have fluttered shut, his eyes rolling back in his head. “I need an answer.”

“I— It’s—“ That’s as far as Jack gets. Everything seems hazy, unfocused, his vision flickering at the edges, pulse after pulse of heat shuddering through him. He manages a nod.

“Breathe,” Davey soothes, and his hands settle over where Jack’s still holding onto his hips for dear life, thumbs stroking gently over his knuckles. “I’ve got you.”

“Jesus Christ,” Jack groans.

He tangles their fingers together for a moment, squeezing, and the contact is grounding and reassuring all at once. He rubs his hands down Davey’s thighs, then somehow finds the coordination to get a hand around Davey dick. He rubs his thumb over the red, leaking tip and Davey’s rhythm stutters, his head falling back as he arcs into the sensation.

“Ah,” he moans, hips twitching as Jack pumps his hand down the shaft, jerking his cock hard and fast in his fist, because he needs to make him fall off that edge, needs it like he needs the air in his lungs, the blood in his veins.

“Jack,” he chants. “Jack, Jack, Jackie, oh god, just like that, don’t stop, don’t—“

His voice breaks, the clench of his ass becomes fucking blistering, just hot and tight and perfect and—

Static. Jack’s not sure if he’s coming again or if he never stopped in the first place, pain and pleasure twisting together in terrible, glorious harmony. When it finally ends, when he finally floats down from that impossible high, he comes back to himself in pieces, wrung out and winded, utterly exhausted.

“…I see what’cha meant about the Gatorade,” he eventually mutters, feeling like he’s run a marathon.

Davey huffs out a laugh. He looks about as wrecked as Jack feels, but there’s something different about him now—a fresh glow to his skin, stress and tension smoothed away—as if someone’s distilled good health down to the essentials and injected it right into his veins.

“You look good,” Jack says, brushing a stray curl out of Davey’s eyes. “Feelin’ better?”

”Much better,” Davey assures him.

“Sweet,” Jack mumbles, nuzzling into the curve of his neck. “Go team.”

Another laugh from Davey, but gentler somehow. He presses a kiss to the top of Jack’s head and murmurs, “I really am going to have to keep you.”

“Not if I keep you first,” Jack replies, lacing their hands together. It feels like the best kind of promise.

#newsies #jack kelly #davey jacobs #javid #*editor's note #*the writing desk #*final cut #hungry like the wolf #it’s here!!!!!!#am I posting my Halloween fic two days after Thanksgiving?#perhaps #don’t judge me #hope you enjoy it!

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saltylandland · 1 year

Text

Killing A Vamp: Chapter 3

Summary: finally spending time with your brothers, you let them in on what scared you, kinda

✨✨Platonic! Gn! Reader/You x Lost Boys✨✨

Word count: 1.5k

Series masterlist

Instead of walking to the others, David stops near an alley way close but not in between two vendors as he goes to light up a cigarette. You shift uncomfortably, as David has perfected the ‘I’m not mad just disappointed’ energy sometime in his immortal life and his stare is unbearable.

You lightly kick a pebble near you as you lower your head in shame. “I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

Breathing air through your nose aggressively, you try not to snap back at him for that response. You were the one in the wrong here technically, and snapping will only make you seem more guilty.

“YoutoldmetobebackbeforetheotherswokeupsotheywontworryandIdidntdothatsorry.” (You told me to be back before the others woke up so they won’t worry and I didn’t do that sorry) you say as quickly as you can, lifting your head up slightly to gauge David’s response.

David only huffs out a laugh, that was a good-ish sign. David flicks away his cigarette bud and like the true chainsmoker he is, he immediately goes for another one. Speaking through this cigarette, “it’s fine kid, I had expected this…” at that you visibly relaxed until David said “but you still didn’t listen, so you can explain your absence to your brothers won’t you?” David paused for a second, carefully studying your expression as he goes “since you’re out and about in the sunlight, you think you can handle seeing Paul and Dwayne?”

You nod silently and David decides not to push farther. “Marko is the most distressed right now for obvious reasons, but I think he’ll understand and let you and the other boys catch up alone tonight.” David paused for a second, either for effect or he was debating on bringing it up. “We were all worried about you, you know? And a bit confused as to why you latched onto Marko as you did. Understand that when they interrogate you about that. Although you have my permission to punch Paul in the arm if he gets too pushy.”

You couldn’t help your curiosity and asked “did I hurt your feelings?” David smiles a little bit, as he crushes his second cigarette under his boot. “Dwayne? Probably not, Paul? Debatable.” After a while, You ask quietly. “What about you?”

David goes to light up another cigarette but is disappointed at the lack of cigarettes no longer on his person. “Not particularly, I’m not exactly the comforting type and I understand that the others are better at that than me. And that’s why we’re a family, we look out for each other.” Discarding his empty pack in the alleyway, you can tell that this was the beginning of the end to this conversation and this rare moment of vulnerability for David.

“We haven’t been siblings for a while like the boys and I have and… most of us didn’t get to choose what we’d become, but we chose each other as our family. No matter what happens in the future, we will always care for you and forgive you when you fuck up.”

Your eyes start watering up at his speech, unknowingly hitting the centre of all of your guilt. David chooses to ignore your watery eyes and turns around to walk away, “come on, I’ll drop you off with the boys then I’m going on my own for a bit.” You fall into step with him. “You’re not going to hangout with Marko?” David shakes his head, “I need to clear my head for a bit, and I also need to go on a cigarette run. Marko’s hanging out with Star and Laddie tonight.”

It was weird to see David actually grab something for himself, usually passing on the job to Marko, but you guessed it was just another reason to be on his own. David has always been like this, as the oldest he makes it his responsibility to worry about things. You can understand why that would be tiring after only briefly meeting that rental douche.

Just as you saw the others David asked you the question you’ve been expecting this whole time. “So, who were those kids you disobeyed me to hang out with?”

God, David really shows his age when he uses words like ‘disobeyed’. Immediately, a storyline appears: you, a strapping young noble, fall in love with a frog. David, your stubborn and protective brother forbade your courtship! After sneaking out a forbidden passage, because you were in a castle now, and castles always have those how nice. You get caught and he tells ‘you have disobeyed me! Bah! Scorn!’

Shit, your silence isn’t helping right now, David has started staring with more intensity before. Shit. “Oh, my D&D party wanted more members for our new campaign. They asked me to talk them into it because I’m the best with social interaction” David looks a little less suspicious now “so you had to do it in daylight?” You grimace, “they’re… eccentric and hard to get through” “uh huh.”

Luckily you were saved by your brothers, being close enough to spot Marko immediately approaches and does a once over. David leaves with little to no words spoken as he goes, letting Marko fuss over you like a mother hen.

Once Marko was satisfied he backed away a bit, before he got the words out you were flacked by Paul and Dwayne. Each taking an arm and dragging you backwards away from Marko, Star, and Laddie.

“Sorry Marko! You can scold them later!” Paul yelled behind him as he cackled.

Knowing that there were certain things still needed to be said, you three settled near a concert. A small nook where only the lucky few regulars on the boardwalk have found. It’s just far enough away to listen to the music but you can still see the stage relatively well. You notice one or two other regulars here as well, but you all mind each other’s business.

Sitting far enough away so as to not disturb the others, Paul turns to you with a wicked glint in his eye. “Sooo what’s this about frogs?” Wiggling his eyebrows at you, you make a face at him in response. “Awe our baby bat has grown up, have you really gotten a boyfriend? Are you leaving us behind for a human?”

You baulk for a second at Paul’s wording, your eyes watering as you snap back perhaps a little too emotionally as you defend yourself. Dwayne sees the shift in tone a bit quicker than Paul and shoves him a bit to be quiet. Dwayne brings you in to a side hug as Paul regards you slowly.

It’s often unspoken, or masked behind jabs at Paul’s pitfalls, but he is truly the best at comforting out of the boys. Wildly empathetic to those he cares about, he somehow always knows how to change the tone of starting arguments, he’s usually the best at getting David out of his ’moods’ as well.

“Hey, hey, was I being too mean? Does this have to do with what happened earlier?”

What happened earlier, your sudden (to them at least) breakdown that rocked everyone as they struggled with what to do.

Bingo.

Nodding slightly, you let Paul pull you into his arms this time, muttering soft apologies. Taking a shuddering breath you decide to tell them the truth, kinda.

“I had a dream that seemed to last forever, you know?”

The boys looked confused but they only nodded as you went on. You watch their faces contort as you tell them how all of them died, your voice wavering more as you go on.

“The worst part was… I didn’t do anything, after these people killed Marko, they told me to stand down and get my humanity back. And I… I took it.” The boys try to comfort you, reassuring that it won’t happen, unknowingly giving empty promises for the unknown distant future.

“Maybe it was because Marko died first, or that I had no control over his death, but… seeing him again when I had accepted his death broke something in me, and the overwhelming guilt I felt… it was, the dream, the dream was so real.”

You all fall silent as the next band starts to perform, letting you cry as they comfort you, neither of them not knowing how to process what they had just heard. Something they’ve never really considered before when it had just been the four of them, is letting go of a certain part of your humanity in order to exist as a vampire. Something that neither of the boys had ever had much trouble with, no matter if they became a vampire willingly or not.

When you turned they expected the same to happen, the hunger will gradually take hold and they’ll welcome you with open arms. But instead, they’ve only really watched you deteriorate as you only became more desperate. But as far as they know there is no going back, they can only fear for their younger family and what will happen when they do finally turn.

It’s only a matter of time before you crack.

And they’re not sure if you’d survive the fallout, and that scares them. Breaking through your sobs you quietly admit what they’ve been dreading and avoiding this whole time.

“I don’t want to be a vampire.”

Thank you for reading!

#the lost boys #tlb dwayne #the lost boys 1987 #tlb 1987 #tlb fanfic #the lost boys x reader #platonic tlb #platonic #platonic the lost boys #tlb marko #tlb x reader #tlb paul #david tlb

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thelostboys11 · 1 year

Text

Kitten | The Lost Boys x Male Reader

David x Male Reader pt.1

Plot: David plans a good time for him and his kitten.

Word count: 487

Warnings: smut and blowjobs

A/n: This is my first smut story but I tried my best. I hope you still enjoy my story though.

You walk down into the cave to see your boys. Your boys had promised you a special night. You didn't exactly know what they meant by 'special night', but you were still excited.

"Hey, Y/n! You look so good tonight," David said, as you walked into the cave, holding his arms out.

"Hey, David! Thank you!" you thanked, going up to him and hugging him. He then pulled you in close, your face pressed against his chest.

"Where are the others?" You asked, a bit confused.

"They went out on an errand run. Don't worry though, they'll be back in no time," He responded, grabbing your hand.

"A-alright," You responded.

David brought you over to the couch and sat you down next to him. He put his arm around you, pulling you close to him, allowing you to put your head on his shoulder.

"How are you feeling, kitten?" David purred quietly in your ear.

"K-kitten?" you questioned, starting to blush.

"Why are you so surprised? You're my kitten," He purred in respose.

"Y-you just haven't c-called me that b-before," You answered, shyly as you blushed.

"You're so cute when you blush, kitten," He said, caressing your face, causing you to blush more.

"You're making me blush, David," You told him, covering your face with your jacket.

"C'mere, kitten," David replied, guiding you to his lap. "You are so cute from this angle. I wonder what you would look like from another angle."

"W-what does that m-mean?" You asked, blushing.

"You'll see, kitten," David answered, making you get down on your knees.

He then unzipped his pants and took out his cock. David put his hand on the back of your head and brought your head to his cock.

"You want m-me to-," You started before you were interupted.

"Go on. Suck it, kitten," He ordered with a smirk on his face.

You then nervously grabbed his cock and put it in your mouth. You started sucking. You started off slow because of how nervous you were. You hadn't done this before.

"You've got this, kitten. You're doing so good so far," He complimented, causing you to blush more.

You continued going the pace you were at. David seemed to be content with that for the moment.

"Faster, kitten," David commanded.

"Hm?" You .

"I said faster," David repeated, then putting his hand on my head and started making you go faster before you got the chance to do it yourself.

You put your hands on David's thighs while David continued to guide you. You noticed David seemed to be enjoying himself.

"Fuck, I'm gonna cum, kitten." David grunted. "Look at me, kitten."

I looked up at him and made eye contact with him. "Kitten, you're doing so good."

David finally came into your mouth and you swallowed. David lifted your head up off his cock.

"You did so, kitten. I'm so proud of you," David complimented.

#the lost boys 1987 #the lost boys david #the lost boys x male reader #the lost boys smut

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softguarnere · 1 year

Note

hi i’d like to request a oneshot! webster x reader and it’s when he gets back and reader has kinda moved on (maybe with skinny? no one writes for him but i love him) and web is all sad and it’s angsty? no rush and it’s okay if you aren’t interested. have a nice day/night

-anon💞

Return to Sender

(Past) David Webster x reader, Skinny Sisk x reader

A/N: Anon, this request has been living rent free in my mind for months 🤌🏼😌 Now that my semester is over and I have free time again, you know it had to be one of the first things I wrote. And you're so right about Skinny needing more content!

(This is written for the fictional depictions from the show - no disrespect to the real life veterans!) Thank you for the request, and I hope you like this 💕🕊️

Warnings: no happy ending, death, mentions of war and injury

In hindsight, Webster wasn’t really sure what he expected to happen when he returned to Easy Company. But based on the pile of letters in his pack that have RETURN TO SENDER in bold letters on the front of them, he probably shouldn’t have dared to get his hopes up.

Where is she? he wants to demand the second that he starts spotting familiar faces in the people around him. Instead, he tries to be polite and cheerful, just like his parents always taught him to be in social settings.

“George Luz!” He greets his nearest Easy Company man as he approaches the truck.

“Yeah?”

“Oh, come on. It’s me! I haven’t been gone that long.”

George says exactly the words that have been nagging in the back of Webster’s mind. “Jesus. Yes you have.”

His own private worries being voiced by someone that he’s happy to see – yet who seems like he couldn’t care less if he ever saw Webster again or not – can’t damper his mood. The joy that overtakes him at spotting familiar faces buoys his mood.

“What’s he in such a good mood for?” Someone asks as Webster passes. He only just catches the reply as he moves out of earshot.

“Won’t be for long.”

They must think that getting out of the hospital and coming back to duty will break him. Because it obviously has affected them. Of course he read the newspaper in the hospital. He knows all about the “Battered Bastards of Bastogne.” That would explain the dour moods that he’s encountered in the handful of minutes since he rejoined Easy. And why so many of the men are so quick to point out that he wasn’t at Bastogne, and to make accusations and assumptions about his stent in the hospital.

It doesn’t explain the letters in his pocket, though.

“So,” Webster finally gets the courage to say. Maybe having delivered the news about the patrol tonight will have wiped away his sins and slights in the eyes of the other Easy men. He may have missed Bastogne, but he’s also just given them helpful information. He should ask now, while Jones and Malarkey deliberate in the corner. “Anyone seen (Y/L/N) around?”

The group of men around the bunk beds freezes. Webster’s own heart stumbles, unable to hold rhythm, like a klutz tripping over its own two feet.

“No one told ya?” Liebgott asks.

RETURN TO SENDER. He tried to tell himself that there was a mistake. He tried to believe that. Not hearing from you and having every letter he sent you returned to him . . . He’s been waiting from letters from someone who isn’t there. And he’s been writing to thin air.

“Oh God,” he breathes. “She’s – she’s gone?”

Heffron snorts. “To you, maybe.”

A few of the others chuckle.

Laughter? When Webster has just realized that the love he’s been waiting for is gone? Disgusting! And you had been their friend, too.

“Jesus, Web. You look like you’ve seen a ghost or somethin’,” Liebgott remarks.

Webster can feel his own face pale at his words.

“Ah, Jesus,” Liebgott scoffs, disgusted. “Is that what you think? That (Y/N) is dead and we’re all sittin’ around laughin’ about it? She’s not just your friend, you know. And she’s the best medic we got.”

Friend. Well, Webster has been thinking of you as more than that. The two of you were on your way there when he got hit in the leg. He heard from you once, right after he was first taken off the line. Then, the paper trail ended – cold, a dead end.

“What’s that look?” Heffron points to Webster’s rosy cheeks. The others lean in to inspect him.

“Oh God,” McClung says. “Were you two - ?”

“No,” Webster admits. “No, we – uh, no. We weren’t.”

“And then you chose the hospital over her, so now you won’t be,” Liebgott says.

Embarrassment sends waves of heat to Webster’s face, no doubt making his cheeks even more pink. “I wouldn’t say that. I haven’t even seen (Y/N) yet. Who can really say, until I talk to her?”

The men around him share glances. The meanings conveyed in their looks are lost on Webster. None of them will look him in the eye. Suddenly he is a young boy again, dragged to some party that his parents are attending, standing amongst his displeasured peers as they cringe at something he’s said or done – some perceived misstep that he didn’t mean to take and that he knows trying to repair will only make worse.

“What?” He asks.

“Webster.” Liebgott huffs a sigh. Of course it’s him, the most blunt and straightforward of them all, who’s willing to tell him. “You were gone so long that (Y/N) moved on.”

. . .

It’s odd, bracing himself to enter a room where he hears laughter. Your laughter; bright and easy, and now real after so many months of him imagining it, trying to remember its melody on long, sleepless nights in his hospital bed.

Luz is firing off quips and that make you giggle before you fire back with some quick remark that makes him throw his head back as he laughs. And as Webster steps around the corner, he can see Skinny by your side, smiling as he watches you.

Adoringly. That might be the word to describe the look on his face. Fondly. Earnestly. Passionately. The antithesis of the expressions that they make when they see him, then register his presence, and what it means: aghast, astonished, and dismayed.

You drop the Hershey Bar you had been passing to Luz as you organize boxes of supplies. “Webster?”

“Hey now!” George chides as he stoops to pick up the chocolate. “Don’t go breaking the precious cargo, or else you can’t help with supplies anymore.” Then he offers Webster a curt nod – the only one who doesn’t look dumbfounded by the very sight of him. “Hiya, Webster. Looks like you got yourself sorted out.”

Webster nods. He’s talking to Luz, but he can’t take his eyes off you. “Yes. I did.”

“You’re back?” You step away from the supply boxes and towards him, eyebrow quirked in question.

“After all this time. I’m back.” Then, without knowing why, he adds, “Just like old times.”

You step back. Away from him, closer to Skinny. “Yeah. Like old times.”

. . .

It is not like old times at all. That becomes apparent the longer that Webster is reunited with Easy Company – it’s only exacerbated by the patrol.

The mood is low. They’ve lost a man.

You, especially, are dismayed. Across the body from Doc Roe, both medics share a knowing and frustrated look the second that the life drains from Jackson’s body. Even in the dim lighting of the room, Webster can see your familiar features morph into an expression of sadness.

You stand before they remove the body, and storm from the room. He steps forward, but Skinny is faster, and follows you out the door. He will be the one to comfort you, just like he has been these past few months.

. . .

Webster has to be honest with himself: he didn’t lose you because you were never his. As much as he had hoped you might be someday, you had never been more than someone who he had joked around with and who he hoped to make smile. The more he thinks about it, the more he realizes that his chance to be the one who could do that has passed. He missed his window.

Morale is so low and the war’s end so close that the fraternization policy is only weakly enforced. Jones gives you and Skinny a side eye when he sees you leaning your head on his shoulder the next morning at breakfast, but he says nothing. Winters doesn’t seem to notice that you’re holding hands when he passes.

And Webster? He can learn not to notice it.

Part of him had hoped to run into you while alone, hoped that maybe you would want to talk about what had happened . . . or what had not happened. But the more that he sees you with Skinny, the more he knows that he can’t do it. You’ve found happiness in this volatile and hazardous environment. Who is he to take that from you?

He can look the other way, even with all the ribbing from the other men as they point out what a handsome couple you make – and the smiles from you and Skinny as you try not to act embarrassed from the attention.

The letters with RETURN TO SENDER on them are left behind the next time that Easy moves out. Best not to dwell on the past, he figures.

But as you load the trucks to leave Haguenau, you offer him a nod when you catch each other’s gaze. He returns it and then looks away, careful not to get caught up on nothing the way that gemstones on wedding rings get caught on knit sweaters. You have found your happiness, and he will find his.

In the meantime, though, if every character that he writes resembles you in all of their best qualities, then it is because your charm touched his soul in ways that he – even with his impressive vocabulary – cannot even begin to describe.

#I saw 'Webster' and 'angst' and listen #I love to suffer I guess #david webster x reader #david webster #david kenyon webster #band of brothers x reader #band of brothers fanfic #band of brothers #skinny sisk x reader #skinny sisk #band of brothers imagine #my writing

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filet-o-feelings · 1 year

Text

WIP Wednesday

Thanks for the tags @hippolotamus @tyfinn @demora00 @stereopticons and @jesuisici33

I wanted to write so much tonight but I just couldn't make it happen, so here's a scene that I have no idea if I've shared before from Library Boy, which I swear I'm going to actually finish one of these days...

“So, who’s this David? A friend from college?”

“Um, kind of,” he says, not sure how to explain without giving away their whole secret note thing.

“Kind of? Care to elaborate?” She asks, curious but not forcing him to continue if he doesn’t want to. Patrick appreciates her so much that he almost wants to tell her everything. Almost.

“It’s kind of like a pen pal situation I guess,” he admits, sticking with the half-truth he’d told Twyla the other day. It wasn’t exactly a lie. David was basically like a pen pal, it was just a bit of an unconventional pen pal situation is all.

“I see. Well, I’m glad you have someone to talk to, anyhow. And don’t look at me like that, I know you have your sports friends, but I think you have always leaned too much on Rachel so I’m glad you have someone else you can really talk to.”

“How do you know I don’t have great communication with the baseball guys?” He narrows his eyes. “And how do you know I’m talking to David about anything meaningful?”

Marcy rolls her eyes. “I don’t care which of your friends you have meaningful conversations with, as long as you have friends you can talk to. Do you have at least one friend you can talk to now that Rachel is out of the picture?”

He considers it for a moment and realizes she’s right. David really is the only person he feels he can open up to. He used to count on Rachel to always be there for him when he needed to talk through anything important. Even Twyla, who he was closer with than any of his sports friends, was still a fairly casual friend. They didn’t really talk about anything too important. He didn’t even know the name of the girl she’d apparently had a very successful date with last night.

“Yeah, I do.”

“Good, that’s what matters. And you know you can always come to me and your dad with anything too, of course.”

Since I waited until Wednesday is nearly over almost everywhere, I'm not going to tag anyone, but if you have something to share and haven't been tagged please share!

#wip wednesday #library boy

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orcaofmyheart99 · 4 months

Text

Gay Awakening

for @newsies-are-the-new-best-thing

Davey had always been focused on school and his family. He had always felt a sense of responsibility and duty. The free time he had was spent on studying history. Davey had never thought much about dating. He had gone out on a few dates with a few different girls from school but nothing ever went anywhere. It just didn’t really feel right to Davey although he couldn’t explain exactly why that was.

Davey’s father got into an accident while at work. This forced him and Les to go out and become Newsies until his father would be able to go back to work.

Davey was a bit nervous on his first day. He got even more nervous when he met him. He was just a little shorter than Davey was with twinkling eyes and a dazzling smile. His younger brother seemed to know this boy “That’s Jack Kelly” Les explained.

“This is my brother David” Les introduced him to the boy

“Nice to meet you Davey” Jack greeted with a genuine smile.

Davey felt butterflies in his stomach. Something which he had never experienced before.

Jack offered to sell with him and Les that day. Davey went home that night with a distant smile on his face and a lightness to his steps. He felt happy in a way he had never felt before.

The next day Davey made sure to sell again with Jack. There was something intoxicating about him.

A young woman came walking along. Jack put on his charm to sell to her. Davey felt a small twitch of what was most likely jealousy towards the young woman. To his surprise she wittingly turned Jack down which made him seem even more interested in her. That night Jack felt a little heavier. He told himself that it shouldn’t matter. Jack was straight and so was Davey. He probably only felt butterflies because it was just a whole new experience. Everyone seemed pretty in awe of Jack.

A few weeks passed and Davey got to know Jack more. And the more he got to know him, the more Davey liked Jack. Maybe Jack had caused Davey to have some sort of gay awakening?

Jack asked Davey one afternoon for some advice “I am going on a date tonight. Got any ideas on where I should take her?” Davey was caught off guard. “That girl you were trying to sell to the other day?” “Yeah. We are going out tonight. You seem like the romantic type. So any ideas?” Davey felt a pain in his stomach. His mouth suddenly felt dry. “Uhh umm not really. Sorry.” Davey stuttered and walked away. He grabbed Les’s hand muttering that they had to get going, citing that they would be late for dinner. Jack was left feeling confused. He ended up taking the girl out to the theater at which they had a good time and enjoyed each other's company.

Jack tried to rectify the situation with Davey. Davey had been avoiding him since he asked for advice. Choosing to sell by himself instead of Jack which was strange.

“Davey you seem to be avoiding me” Jack commented as the Newsies lined up. “I’ve been busy” Davey said, not meeting his eyes. “I’m not sure if I overstepped something the other day by asking for advice for a date. But I am sorry if that made you feel weird at all” Jack tried to apologize.

“Why the hell would that make me feel weird?” Davey snapped looking directly into Jack’s shimmering blue eyes.

Jack looked taken aback by this tone of voice from Davey who was usually very soft spoken.

“Why would I care who you date or where you go on dates Jack? It’s not like I’m into you or anything! Just leave me out of it ok?!” Davey stormed off in a huff stuffing his papes into his bag.

Jack was left speechless. Why was Davey acting like this? And what did he mean that he wasn’t into him? Jack thought that was a very strange thing to say.

That night Jack couldn’t sleep. Davey’s words kept spinning over and over in his head. He finally propped himself up and looked around to see if Crutchy was awake.

“Hey Crutchy you there? Jack mumbled.

“Yeah I’m ere Jack. Can’t sleep?” Crutchy muttered back.

“I just keep thinking about what Dave said. I thought it was fine when I asked for his advice about my date with Katherine. I thought he would be happy to help out his friend. Guess I was wrong. I am just mostly surprised about how he spoke to me today. I really didn’t mean to offend him or anything.” Jack said, sounding a bit sad.

Crutchy let out a small laugh

“What’s so funny?” Jack demanded.

“It’s just that Jack. As much as you are charming you can often be a bit oblivious. Davey obviously likes you. Hell, I would say he is in love with you. Have you noticed the way he looks at you? How he hangs on your every word? How he has to sell with you everyday? How he has to stand close to you?” Jack was quiet.

“No, I guess I didn’t. If he really is into me I would understand how me asking about where to go on a date would make him upset. What can I do to make it up to him?” Jack asked.

“Honestly, I would give him some space right now. He probably has a lot to process and figure out.” Crutchy advised.

Jack gave a sigh of defeat.

“Alright. I will” Jack gave in

For the next few days Jack let Davey have his space. He didn’t want to lose Davey as a friend so he let him be. Giving a polite nod and smile when they interacted. About a week later Jack was selling his last paper Davey approached him in a cautious and nervous manner.

“Gotta a sec Jack?” Davey asked.

Jack looked surprised that Davey was talking to him.

“Sure. What’s up?”

“I, uhh, I wanted to umm apologize for how I spoke to you the other day. I was upset and took it out on you wrongly. You are my friend and I am truly sorry about how I treated you. Friends help each other out and I should have helped you on your date place.”

“Davey, don’t worry about it. I understand I’ve been in your position before.”

Davey’s eyebrows knit together.

“What do you mean by my position?”

shit , shit shit. Jack thought. Why did I say that?

“Ummm I just mean like. Helping friends out with dating stuff when you know umm you, you know.

Davey’s brow furrowed further.

“What?”

Jack fiddled with his hat in his hands. He took a deep breath, trying to imagine Crutchie's advice. Crutchie would probably tell him to be truthful.

Jack quickly said “When you like a friend in more than a friend way, then the friend you like is going on a date and you want to be going on a date with that person.��

Davey stood there, mouth slightly open.

“Unless I’m wrong?” Jack asked nervously.

“No, you aren’t wrong. I do like you. Like more than a friend” Davey said looking down at his feet.

“I thought I was straight until I met you.” Davey said now looking into Jack’s eyes and moving closer.

“Hell, Jack, every time I am near you I lose my breath. I forget how to walk. My mind goes blank. Jack, no one has ever made me feel the way you do.”

For a change Jack felt nervous. Davey stepped even closer to him.

“I know this is a long shot and I know that you are dating that girl, but I really like you. If you ever want to go out with me I am here. Just know that.”

Jack felt his face flush

“Actually Dave. I am not seeing that girl anymore. After Crutchy provided some insight I realized that she wasn’t the one I wanted to go out with.”

“Really?” Davey whispered. Hope beginning to fill his heart.

“Really” Jack responded.

Before he knew what he was doing, Davey was kissing Jack. Jack pulled Davey in closer, wrapping his arms around him.

“So, you wanna go out on a date with me?” Davey asked, smiling.

“For sure” Jack responded, grabbing his hand.

The news traveled quickly to the other newsies. Everyone was very happy for them.

#mac speaks #my fic writing #newsies #musicals #jack kelly x david jacobs #jack kelly #david jacobs

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misslavenderlady · 1 year

Text

A Little Bit Country, A Little Bit Rock ‘N Roll - Chapter 5

Summary: Michael is excited to have his new friends over for dinner. What could POSSIBLY go wrong?

Hope you detected the sarcasm in the summary. I ended up writing so much that this will be split into two chapters. I'll try to have the second part up another day!

TW: Mentions of hunting and taxidermy

Previous Chapter Next Chapter

Getting from place to place quickly was never an issue for David and the boys. Whether it was by motorcycle or by flying, they could get wherever they wanted in mere minutes. It wasn’t something they really thought about, just a part of their second nature.

Tonight was a little bit different.

Time seemed to slow down as David drove down the roads of Santa Carla. The roar of the engine faded out into nothingness. Cars and other motorcycles he passed were completely blurred. It felt as if hours and hours were going by, and it brought him absolute peace. While the wind ran through his hair David couldn’t help but hum a few notes of the song Michael had sung earlier.

By the time he had gotten home and parked his bike outside of the cave, David was softly singing the tune under his breath. He hadn’t even realized what he was doing until he made his way into the lobby where the others were.

“Whatcha singing, David?” Paul asked. He and Marko were cozied up on the couch with Dwayne, the three of them enjoying a joint together. Their leader gave them a soft smile, stopping the song.

“Oh nothing, just a random thing stuck in my head,” he brushed it off. The others didn’t seem convinced.

“Whatever it is, you sure seem happy from it,” Marko pointed out. “Considering your meetings with Max always leave you totally miserable, that’s pretty weird”

It was only then that David realized he hadn’t told the others where he went after his unpleasant time with Max. He couldn’t even think of a time when he wasn’t moody, angry, or depressed after a talk with their Sire. No wonder they all seemed so surprised.

Best to play it casual, he thought to himself.

“Oh yeah. I didn’t come straight from there. I decided to swing by the Emerson house and scope the place out before tomorrow”

David kept his back to the others, making his way over to the makeshift bar they had on the other side of the room. He poured himself a drink from an old bottle of merlot. One of his favorites. Maybe he could bring a bottle along for dinner.

“What’s it like?” Dwayne asked. Even with his back turned David could hear the three of them move around a bit.

“Total horror movie look. I can’t imagine Max will let it stay that way for long once they’re all a part of the family”

Thinking about it a bit more, David realized that the property also included a lot of farm animals and equipment. Michael mentioned having chores to do and creatures to attend to, meaning the place had even more stuff he hadn’t noticed his first time around. He couldn’t exactly picture Max sweating over a flower pot, let alone a whole farm.

“Didya say hi to Michael, or was he already conked out?” Paul asked

David drank down a hearty gulp of his wine. Something about Michael being in their conversation so much made him feel like his nerves were on edge. Like he had to be more careful with his words.

“Well…he was awake, but I….didn’t bother him…” he started, adding a fresh pour to the glass. “He was playing guitar again….so I just watched him. It was…nice”

He paused. His lips were lifted into a sweet smile again.

“Michael played another love song…”

The vampire turned around, leaning his back to the bar and swirling the deep, red liquid in his glass. He was still reminiscing up until he glanced at his pack mates. Each one wore a smug, devious look on their face.

“What?”

“Yoooooou liiiiiiike him~” Marko sing-songed. Paul and Dwayne joined in on the fun with fits of laughter.

It was only then that David truly realized what they thought he was implying. Frantically, he set down his wine glass and stood up from the bar.

“What the hell, no I don’t!!” he insisted. Though David’s body wasn’t the same as a human’s, he still felt the rush of blood flow through his skin, a sensation he almost forgot about after being a creature of the night for so long. He was certain that he no longer had the ability to blush, but the way his friends were taunting him said otherwise.

“Yes, you do~!” Dwayne insisted. He made his way over to David, taking his hand and dragging him over to where the terror twins were on the couch. David was completely outnumbered and at the mercy of their teasing.

“Michael and David, sittin’ in a tree! K-I-S-S-I-N-G,” Paul teased. That only added a new wave of laughter from the others, much to David’s embarrassment. Sighing in frustration, he buried his face in his hands, not wanting to be seen anymore.

God, I hope the rest of the hotel caves in right now.

The others were lounging over him, absolutely loving how flustered their usually confident leader was getting over their southern gentleman friend.

“Oh my God, that's so cute! So that's why you've been acting different," Marko said. "The smiling, the fidgeting, the singing. You've got it bad for the cowboy~"

"Marko, I am begging you with every fiber of my being, shut the fuck up," David snapped. He had never felt so out of control over his friends before. They were ruthless with their teasing and he wasn't sure how much he could take.

"Hey, ya think it's true what they say about everything being bigger in Texas? I'm sure if you ask him nicely Michael would be happy to show you~" Paul added. He burst into a fit of giggles, unable to contain the amusement in his own suggestive comment.

David slapped his hands on his knees before pulling himself off of the couch.

"Okay, that's it. You guys are insufferable. I'm turning in for the night"

As he turned on his heel to make his way to their sleeping nook in the cave, the others lightened up on their playful behavior.

"Awww c'mon, David, don't be like that!"

"Yeah! Besides, it's hours before sunrise!"

He simply ignored them, adding a middle finger as a final farewell before disappearing into the shadows. The lingering sounds of laughter faded the further he went in. It wasn't until he was up in the rafters hanging upside down that he was finally alone with his thoughts.

Michael was just his friend. He only felt this way because he was looking forward to having a new member of their pack. Nothing more.

Still, he couldn't deny that Michael was so different from the others. He swore he could still hear the human's bold laugh in his head. Even as the hours went by and dawn approached the thought of the sweet-talking cowboy remained.

The boys joined him when the first sliver of daylight came. He accepted their lighthearted apologies and let them all cuddle close as they hung down together. They wouldn't tease him anymore.

For now, at least.

The true test would be dinner with the Emersons. He couldn't let himself be distracted anymore. Max was expecting him to turn the family as soon as possible, and he couldn't afford to disappoint their Sire anymore.

As David drifted off to sleep, he silently hoped for the best.

A new night, a new visit to the Emerson house.

Though he had been able to see the house the previous night, David got quite a better look with all of the lights both inside and out turned on. While the outside was still full of clutter and objects, he could clearly see a lot of impressive craftsmanship in the sculptures and taxidermy around the area.

As he and his pack pulled their motorcycles into the driveway, he felt the curiosity he had the night before about what the inside was like.

Their engines cut off and while the others took in the look of the place too, David’s eyes wandered over to a nearby field. A horse pasture, to be exact. A couple of white horses were casually trotting around the perimeter, a fluffy dog barking and chasing after them, no doubt trying out a bit of herding.

Right at the other end was Michael himself, kneeling in front of a post in the long fence wrapped around the area. The entire look was sturdy-looking and freshly painted, a sign that he had indeed worked hard all day. If that wasn’t proof enough, then the paint marks and sweat stains on Michael’s shirt certainly did.

Best not to stare too long, lest David wanted another round of taunting from his buddies

“Hey, ya’ll! Glad you made it!” Michael cheerfully greeted them all. In one fell swoop, he hoisted himself over the fence and jogged over to their parked bikes. He waved a gloved hand at them while his tool belt clanged loudly with each step.

“Bet he can do other types of hard work with those hands~” Paul lewdly commented through their mental connection. David maintained composure while also throwing back a “shut up” in his head.

“Wouldn’t miss it, Michael,” the blond leader simply stated.

While their friend ushered them toward the front of the house, David did his best to focus on what had been asked of him by their Sire. Or rather, what had been threatened. This was no time to be soft. Max would not tolerate procrastination for much longer.

There are consequences if you do not listen.

“Before I invite ya in I gotta let y’all know a thing or two about our home,” Michael explained.

“Where we’re from, everybody uses good manners. So for my mama, it’s always ‘yes, ma’am’ or ‘no, ma’am’ when you talkin’ to her. Always say ‘please’ and ‘thank you’ and offer to help clean up after we eat. Me and Sammy always do since it’s polite to help out”

Having good manners was certainly not a familiar thing for the Lost Boys. Decades of living wild and free had made them forget any polite behavior they may have once possessed. Star and Laddie would have no issue with being on their best behavior, but the boys might.

The four of them traded looks, a bit amused yet also cautious. They certainly didn’t act right for Max’s sake, but now Michael was requesting a little decency.

And who was David to deny the request of a friend?

“We’ll be perfect gentlemen, Michael. You have my word,” David assured him. He bit back a devious smile, knowing his boys would still be a little rowdy if they got excited. It was the thought that counted.

“Great! Now come on in! My home is your home, fellas!” the human said, gesturing for them to enter while grinning eagerly.

Well, at least we got invited. That’ll help if we ever need to blend in more.

One by one the group entered, the steps of their shoes echoing through the space as they went. David’s assumptions about the place were correct. It was quite massive on the inside as it was on the outside. High ceilings, open rooms, and plenty of space on the walls for decorations. It was impossible not to find a corner not filled with more taxidermy, figurines, or pictures.

Of course, there were also plenty of Texas-themed decors. Iron lone stars, longhorn skulls, cowhide pillows, and the state flag hanging high and proud over the fireplace mantle.

"Grandpa went and bought some purdy little pieces to make us feel more at home when we came on over," Michael explained. He pointed up to a deer head mounted next to the flag. It had quite an impressive display of antlers. "'cept that one. I brought that myself"

“You're into taxidermy too, Michael?" Star asked.

"You gotta be when you go on a huntin' trip! Shot that baby myself last year. Had a good helpin' o' deer sausage for breakfast damn near every day after that!"

The others traded looks with one another, impressed by the multiple skills Michael had. Only Marko seemed off put by it.

"Ewwww! That's so nasty. I think I'm gonna hurl," he spoke to the others, his face looking a little pale.

"Marko, we're vampires. We LITERALLY go hunting every night," Dwayne shot back.

"Yeah, but those are human assholes who deserve it. Poor little deer probably wasn't doing anything wrong!"

Leave it to the animal lover to be a bit more sensitive about all the stuffed critters. God help him if there were any dead pigeons in the house. Paul patted his back in sympathy while helping him into the kitchen. The sooner they got him away from the taxidermy, the better.

"Mama! My pals are here!" Michael greeted the woman standing in the kitchen. She turned around to greet them all, a wooden spoon in hand as she worked over the hot stove.

"Well hi there!" she smiled, voice soft and sweet as she spoke. "My name is Lucy. Welcome to our home"

They were surprised to hear an accent that wasn't nearly as thick as Michael's. Sure it was a noticeable southern drawl, but it was one she had only picked up after moving to a new state, not growing up there. David recalled Michael telling them how she was originally from Santa Carla. Being in an entirely different place must have changed her quite a bit.

Michael introduced each member of the pack by name, eager to show off his friends. Getting to know his mom made David realize where Michael got his bubbly, warm personality from. Lucy was definitely a sweet woman.

It made the concept of Max's mission for them that much more of a struggle. But David didn't say anything. He just smiled and handed her an unopened bottle of wine from their stock back home.

"Awww look at you! Y'all are just skin and bone!" the redhead woman tutted. "Ain't your parents feed ya a proper set of meals every day?"

Boy, if she knew just what their living situation and eating habits were truly like, she'd probably have a heart attack. Thankfully, she moved on, gesturing for them all to follow her as she unwrapped the foil around the top of the wine bottle.

"Well, never you mind about that. I went ahead and doubled my recipes for supper. Tonight y'all are gonna eat til you're full as a tick!"

David didn't even get the chance to ask what she meant by that before stepping into the dining room and seeing what could possibly be the largest spread of food he'd ever seen.

The long stretch of the wooden table was fully covered with dishes of corn, mashed potatoes, green beans, cornbread, and baked mac and cheese. Everything looked so colorful and freshly made. Like Lucy poured her very soul into making this spread.

"Now Michael, you go get cleaned up and changed before letting Sam know supper is ready," Lucy instructed her son. "Why don't you kids help me out with setting the table and getting the drinks?"

After Michael took off it was as if a switch flipped. The boys were always in sync with one another, but something about helping out with an actual, honest-to-God homemade dinner was pure joy. They never thought they'd actually like things like setting silverware or pouring glasses of sweet tea, but the Emersons just had that pull on them.

It certainly helped that Lucy was so kind with her praises of their work. Paul, Marko, and Dwayne in particular seemed extra bouncy and giddy from the excitement. Star was just happy to show Laddie an actual home instead of the cave hang-out.

"David, honey, would you be a lamb and move this chair to the dining room? I'm short one at the table"

Who would have thought that such simple words could turn the hardcore gang leader into a total softie? It was like David was a new man. He slaughtered people left and right every night without a second thought, yet now he was obediently taking orders from a short, soft-spoken lady.

God, was this what he was missing out on for the past several decades? A mother figure who treated him like an actual person and not a monster? Or in Max's case, treat him like an equal and not a servant.

While the others got seated side by side at the table, David silently watched them all act differently too. His boys were all wild, trouble-making vampires. They were the most dangerous people in all of Santa Carla, yet they were acting like kids again.

Human kids, in fact. It was as sweet as it was terrifying to think about.

"Boy howdy, that sure smells amazin'! Hope y'all haven't eaten in a week!"

David turned his head to see Michael in the doorway. He had traded his work clothes for sweatpants and a t-shirt with a high school logo on it. His hair shined with beads of water from his shower. A warm, soothing scent of vanilla and spice clung to his skin.

After all the shit his friends gave him the other day David knew he shouldn't stare too long. Yet he just couldn't help himself. It came back to bite him in the ass when Paul spoke up.

"Hey, Mikey! Why don't you sit next to David? He'd really like that!"

The blond leader snapped his attention at the goofball of their group.

"Paul I'm gonna rip your damn throat out"

The devious grin on his face told David that he regretted absolutely nothing. He kept a good poker face himself, nothing less than casual as Michael pulled up a chair next to him. The scent was even stronger now.

"Mom! Don't start without us!" a voice called from the other room.

The loud stomping of different sets of footsteps could be heard going down the stairs. Everyone watched as three boys came running into the dining room. They were all clearly at the beginning of their teen years, faces still quite boyish. The one leading them was dressed quite colorfully, while the other two looked a bit more scruffy and ragged.

"Sammy, you know damn good and well mama would never start dinner without everyone sittin' down! Will you act like ya got some sense?" Michael playfully scolded his brother. "Y'all, this is my baby brother, Sam"

"I'm not a baby, Mike! I could kick your ass if I wanted to!" the freckled boy insisted.

"You can't even fight your accent, let alone me," Michael pointed out. Sure enough, David didn't hear the same southern tone from Sam as he did with Michael. "Seriously, Sammy, I know you tryin' to be cool with your Cali friends, but ya sound like you're in pain holdin' it back"

David and the others watched in amusement as Michael tried to reach out and tickle his brother. Sam quickly pulled away, darting to the other side of the table with his friends. As they sat down in their chairs, Sam kept a casual expression on his face while his buddies stayed completely serious.

They were practically glaring daggers at the others. It made David wonder just what their problem was. It was only when Michael nudged him that he stopped looking at the kids.

"Sam's been preachin' up and down about 'fittin' in' 'round here. I say all that MTV turned his brains to mush"

"I ain't - er…I'm not gonna be seen as a hick!" Sam insisted. The others snickered at how beet red his face was getting from the slight slip of his accent.

"Sammy, we're so country sticks fall outta our mouths when we talk. Ain't no 'mount of flashy clothes and hair product gonna change that"

While David snickered with his friends over the brotherly quarrel between Michael and Sam, he felt a sense of joy being there at their table. Between the fresh cooking and the homely vibe that the Emersons had, it was strangely comforting.

He wondered if this was the life he once had back when his heart could still beat. If he once had at least one person who he could call family. Someone who made him feel truly welcomed and cared for. He always strived for that when he met each of his friends over the years, and now Michael and his family were doing the same for him.

"Alright, y'all! Settle in your seats!" Lucy said, stepping into the room with a large platter in hand. It was piled high with fresh, cooked meat that smelled nothing short of heavenly.

"Yo!! That looks really good! What is it?" Paul asked, practically salivating.

"Brisket! We may not be in Texas anymore, but we sure can eat like we are!" she smiled, placing it down in the center of the table.

Michael nudged David's arm before leaning over to whisper softly in his ear.

"Listen, we usually say grace over the food, but y'all don't have to if ya ain't comfortable. I'm not really into the religious stuff but it's such a big deal where I'm from that I just go along with it to be polite"

David nodded, silently passing along the message to the others in his head so they wouldn't be caught off guard. Even with the invitation into the house keeping them safe, David still worried about potentially bursting into flames just because of a prayer.

Thankfully, that didn't happen. Once the Emersons had finished, everyone else was given the go-ahead to start filling up their plates. Star helped Laddie out with his, whispering praises about him trying new things. The boys were a little rowdy, nudging each other out of the way to get more servings to try.

But Lucy didn't mind. She was incredibly maternal, even to the friends of her kids. As far as she was concerned, she was helping put a little meat on their bones.

"Oh my God," Marko spoke to the others. "I can't remember the last time I genuinely enjoyed human food this much"

"Me too," Dwayne added. "I actually feel full. Like I do after a hunt"

"Man, fuck hunting! I may never need blood again if Ms. Emerson cooks like this!" Paul said, already deep into a second plate of food.

David chuckled to himself, shaking his head as he took another bite of potatoes. Nothing made him happier than seeing his friends taken care of. This was going so well for all of them.

Though he could do without Sam's friends staring at them.

The Frog brothers, Edgar and Alan, acted so seriously. Like they were soldiers preparing for a battle of some kind. Even with the warmth of Lucy's hospitality and good, they still remained completely stone-faced. David just assumed they had a bit of an attitude problem. That was quickly disproved when Edgar opened his mouth.

"So…what do you all think about vampires?"

The boys barely held themselves together. Marko had nearly choked on the sip of sweet tea he was drinking. Dwayne and Paul each threw a hand over their mouths, biting back laughter. David felt a shit-eating grin spread across his face.

"Uh…pardon?" he asked the two brothers, trying to tone down his amusement with little success.

"Vampires, my friend," Edgar repeated. "We are dedicated to taking down every creep, freak, and monster that roams the streets of Santa Carla"

"We've been showing Sam the ropes on how to prepare for them," Alan added. "But you guys have to be cautious too"

The Lost Boys all traded amused looks. One of two things was happening here. Either they knew exactly what they were and wanted to show how "tough" they could be, or they had no idea and were unknowingly sitting right across from the very thing they wanted to kill.

"You guys are tough looking. It'll come in handy if you ever gotta take down a bloodsucker"

"Oh, I'm definitely gonna mess with them," David thought to the other vamps.

"Well, I for one couldn't agree more," he said, faking enthusiasm. "Why, my boys and I are completely prepared for a vampire attack!"

The Frog brothers seemed surprised. As if they hadn't expected David to believe their warnings so easily.

"Is that right?"

"Absolutely! You see our earrings?" David asked, showing off the jewelry in his ear. "Pure silver in the metal. Dangly so it touches our necks. Keeps them from going at the jugular! Vampires can't stand the stuff"

While the two boys looked at the blond leader in awe, the others were holding back the biggest giggle fits of their lives. That "pure silver" was actually barbed wire. And if anything, they found the earrings to be more attractive to one another.

"Yeah! And you gotta have a healthy amount of garlic in your diet! Messes with your taste so they won't wanna bite," Paul chimed in. Star had a frown on her face as she nudged him as a way to silently scold him.

"Now you boys stop all this vampire nonsense!" Lucy scolded. She wasn't the most intimidating person in the world, but she could still be quite strict when she had to be. "I will not have this satanic talk at my dinner table"

Michael and Sam both looked a bit exasperated as if they had experienced this reaction from their mother plenty of times before. Religious fears were definitely something to expect from the heart of Texas.

"You've got it all wrong, Ms. E! We're against the demonic creatures we speak of. We don't like them any more than you do," Edgar assured her.

"We would destroy every last vampire to keep the people of Santa Carla safe," Alan added, his hands forming into fists like he was eager to fight one right then and there. "Stake them, burn them, shoot them, drown them, beat them, whatever it takes"

Oh yeah, we're sooooo scared, David thought to himself. The last thing he and the others were scared of we're a bunch of twerps acting tough and macho. It felt like they were getting dinner and a show with those two.

"You guys really should stop though," Star finally spoke up. "You're upsetting Ms. Emerson and you're gonna scare Laddie with all this talk"

The excitement from the Lost Boys finally began to settle down. She was definitely right about the latter. They didn't want to get their little half-vampire buddy worried over nothing. Nothing a few encouraging words couldn't fix.

But Laddie wasn't there. When David and the others looked in the direction of his chair, they found nothing but an empty space.

"Where'd he go?" Dwayne asked. He set his fork and napkin down, frantically searching the area. He was certainly the most worried about Laddie, and it was very clear when he didn't see the little guy.

The others did their looking as well. Under the table, behind some shelves, around the corner, but there was no sign of him. A small wave of fear was collectively building up for the gang. They never lost sight of Laddie.

"Oh maybe the little angel wandered off to find the bathroom," Lucy suggested. While her attempts to calm the others were admirable, they were also in vain.

"Uh, I think I know where he went…" Michael said. His eyes were wide and his posture stiffened as he pointed to the doorway connected to the kitchen.

Across the way, everyone could clearly see the back door swinging open. The door that led straight to a part of the horse pasture.

If the look on Michael's face told David anything, it was telling him that was not a good thing.

#the lost boys #tlb #my fic #ao3 fic #michael emerson #david the lost boys #au fic #southern micheal

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kirk-says-wah · 3 months

Text

𝐒𝐭 𝐀𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫 - 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟏𝟒

Pairings: Kirk/Lars, Kirk/James

TW: drugs

You can also read it here

The week flies by, sitting his SATs, doing as best as he can, especially when all he can think of is Lars and whatever Dave’s got in store for him.

The more he seems to be in over his head, the harder it is to tell Lars. And he knows he should, he’s not stupid, but he doesn’t know how to throw into a conversation hey, by the way I’m selling drugs without Lars freaking out.

He’s sitting his last exam, though he finished ages ago so he’s just sitting there watching the clock.

He wants to glance over, knows Lars is a few rows away sitting his own exam, but he doesn’t want to be caught looking in case they think he’s cheating.

Instead, he lies his head on the table, closing his eyes.

He tries to think of whatever Dave could be planning. Maybe he wants Kirk to ask David who his boss is? Maybe he wants him to buy some Whiplash to see what all the fuss is about? Kirk at least hopes the latter one isn’t true, he’s not exactly the most reliable person when it comes to drugs, and he really doesn’t want to go down that road again.

The end of year party is tonight, thrown by some of the popular kids, and they even got the school involved so as soon as this exam is done, the hall is going to be decorated, similar to prom night.

Kirk would usually be excited, especially because he’s going with Lars, but he just hopes Dave doesn’t ruin it.

Over the past week, he saw Marty again and found out that apparently people have bought the drug in bulk ready for tonight, which is why Dave’s basically had no buisness. He hopes people will just take it in their own time, but Kirk knows full well the hall is going to be full of people high on the stuff.

The bell rings and Kirk is brought out of his mind, drumming his fingers against the table as he waits for his paper to be collected.

Then, as soon as they’re told they can go, Kirk makes a beeline to the back of the queue, Lars sticking out of the crowd with a big smile, holding his hand out for Kirk.

Kirk takes it, squeezing it tightly.

“How did you think you did?” Lars asks as they walk through to get their bags.

“I think it went okay. What about you?”

Lars shrugs, picking his bag up.

“Yeah I think I did pretty well.”

Kirk nods, feels Lars’s arm slide around his waist as they make their way out the building.

“Y’know I think you’ve got an admirer.”

“Huh?” Kirk asks, confused, and Lars hums.

“Mustaine was practically trying to eye fuck you that whole exam.”

Kirk laughs, bringing Lars in against him. He feels anxiety twist his chest, and this could be a really good time for him to tell Lars, but instead he says, “I knew there was always something off about him.”

Lars chuckles, pressing a kiss to Kirk’s jaw.

“Are you excited for tonight?”

Kirk nods, stopping to bring his arms around Lars’s waist.

“Yeah. I think it will be fun.”

Lars grins, reaching up to kiss him softly.

— —

He seeks Dave out between classes, just before his last lesson because he knows if he doesn’t find him himself then he’ll have no choice what time Dave finds him.

He approaches the lockers cautiously, remembering what happened last time he came this end of the school, but is glad when the room is mostly empty.

Dave is drying off in the corner, dressed in just his jeans, and he beckons Kirk over as soon as he sees him.

Kirk goes over without protest, noticing how Dave looks around cautiously before talking.

“We’re gonna use tonight to our advantage.”

Kirk frowns, crossing his arms, trying not to look intimidated. Dave seems to be slightly different, almost as if he’s not trying to be all mean and nasty like he usually is. It confuses Kirk, and he wonders what’s different, what happened for Dave not to want to beat the shit out of him just for being in his presence.

“What do you mean?” he says, trying not to let the change throw him off.

Dave smirks, pulling a tshirt over his head.

“They’re gonna be dealing at the party. We’re gonna follow David and see who our competition is.”

“David?”

“Ellefson,” Dave corrects, and Kirk remembers back to his conversation with Marty.

“Yeah, I heard about him,” Dave says, obviously noticing that Kirk hadn’t divulged that information to him.

“Then what?” Kirk asks, because he’s kind of nervous what Dave will do when they find the dealer. He knows first hand how violent Dave can get, and he really doesn’t want the knife to reappear.

Dave’s smile twists, grabbing his bag before shoving past Kirk, his shoulder barging into him.

“I’ll find you tonight,” Dave says, and with that, he’s out the door.

Kirk lets that sink in for a moment before panic starts to encompass him because what is he going to tell Lars? He can’t just up and disappear half way through the night, and what if things get ugly? Lars isn’t going to know anything that’s going on.

He swallows, pulling his jacket closer around him.

He doesn’t know what to do, doesn’t know how to get out of this. His chest stutters and he slumps onto the bench behind him, sucking in a deep breath, even though it feels like his lungs aren’t cooperating. He brings his hands up, bunching his hair up in his fingers as he wills his heart to stop racing.

God, he can’t do this. He can’t fucking do this.

He grapples for his phone, unlocking it as tears drip into his lap. He heaves, rubbing at his eyes as the panic overtakes him, and before he knows it, he’s in his contact list, choosing the one name he knows, or rather hopes, can help.

He brings his phone up to his ear with shaky hands, heart thrumming in his ears as his breathing picks up speed.

“Hello?”

Kirk squeezes his eyes shut, pivoting forward slightly, trying to stop the darkness from swarming him.

He swallows, though it sticks in his throat, before he finally speaks.

“James?”

— —

The next thing Kirk is aware of is that he’s on the floor.

He gasps awake, though a hand to his chest stops him from moving, and he opens his eyes to find James sat next to him on the dirty locker floor.

Kirk sucks in a breath like a dying man, scrambling to sit up, even as James protests.

“What happened?” Kirk asks, out of breath, his head pulsing.

“You tell me,” James says, his shoulder knocking against Kirk’s own. “You tell me you’re in the lockers and when I get here you’re passed out face down on the floor. That shit’s scary, dude.”

“Sorry,” Kirk mumbles, rubbing at his temple.

“What going on?” James implores, desperately trying to search Kirk’s face.

Kirk just sighs.

“I need you to do me a favour.”

He knows it’s probably not the nicest way to use James, but he can’t think of any other way to get out of this situation.

“Anything,” James says, putting a hand on Kirk’s knee softly.

Kirk lets out a breath through his nose, blinking away the tears that are forming.

“I need you to look out for Lars. Tonight, at the party.”

James blinks, head cocking.

“What? Why?”

“I think Dave’s going to get me into trouble, and I don’t want to get Lars involved.”

James goes quiet, and Kirk thinks he’s probably asking too much of him. Especially after their last conversation. James’s face twists into a foreign expression, and he stops meeting Kirk’s eyes.

“I’ll try my best,” James says hesitantly, and Kirk sighs, finally feeling like he can breathe again.

“Thank you,” Kirk says, squeezing James’s hand gently. Only, it lasts for a second before James pulls away, abruptly standing up.

“Are you okay now?”

Kirk’s surprised at the change in attitude, because now James seems closed off, cold, his face expressionless as he looks down at Kirk.

Kirk nods, if not a little jerkily, and James nods in turn.

“I’ve gotta go,” James says before suddenly stalking out, leaving Kirk on the floor.

Kirk swallows, using the bench to help himself stand. His legs still feel a little wobbly, and he’d be lying if he said he was okay. The panic has started to fade, but the anxiety is still rampant in his system, especially when he thinks back to James’s face. He feels like he’s the one betraying James this time, but he didn’t know who else to ask. He could’ve asked Jason, but Kirk knows Jason might try and step in instead of doing what he’s told.

Kirk has trust in James, and he doesn’t know Jason well enough to have the same kind of confidence in him.

He wills himself to get together, taking a deep breath until his chest hurts, using the wall to steady himself.

He just hopes tonight won’t be as disastrous as he thinks it will.

#metallica #metallica fanfiction #st anger #my fics

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sta7z · 2 years

Text

“Me Too” Will Byers and Adopted Sibling! Reader

:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ Warnings :･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ ✩࿐80’s era homophobia ✩࿐Coming Out ✩࿐Slight Angst? ✩࿐Angela existing ✩࿐ Cursing ✩࿐ Slight Y/N x Max ✩࿐Byler Byler BYLER

You weren’t exactly one of the Byers, but after the many supernatural incidents in Hawkins left you without a father Joyce took care of you. You missed Hawkins, California was nice and all but you missed Mike, Nancy, Dustin, Lucas. And most of all you missed Max. Ever since that day you, Max, and El, all went to the mall and dumped your boyfriends you felt something. Something… wrong.

·:¨༺ ★ ༻¨:·. At School ·:¨༺ ★ ༻¨:·.

“HEY QUEER!” One of Angela’s cronies shouted at you whilst you slammed your locker shut. Will was standing beside you, he was thought it was aimed at him, and honestly I thought so too. Back in Hawkins that’s all everyone would call will, that and that horrid word. One, you realized, Joyce and Jonathan never said. ”Fuck Off, Yknow you probably wished you were Queer. David Bowie, Queen, both way hotter than you. Honestly, I hope you slip on your fucking face.” You retorted. You always dressed rather boyishly. You didn’t really think it was a problem. But apparently that blonde bimbo did. You huffed and walked into your next class. You noticed a girl brushing up against Will. he seemed pretty uncomfortable so you stood in the middle of the two and started a fake conversation with Will to save him.

·:¨༺ ★ ༻¨:·. At Night ·:¨༺ ★ ༻¨:·.

You decided to go and check on Will, he usually leaves his door locked but not this time. You creep in and notice he’s drawing something… “Mike” you whispered under your breath, making Will jump up. “Oh-Oh! Y/N! Hey! I didn’t- I didn’t notice you there.” He was practically hyperventilating at this point, absolutely panicking to put up his art supplies in time. “Hey, I’m sorry for not knocking, I-I’ll just pretend I didn’t see anything.” You said heading for the door. “Wait.” You stopped in your tracks and turned around. He gestured for you to sit next to him on his bed and he gently held the drawing in both hands. “Mike is the heart,” he explains pointing at the drawing. “He’s always been the one to hold the team together. The most important part.” You stayed silent, you couldn’t help but see this pain in Will’s eyes. One you were far too familiar with. “Mike… he… He always said his life began the day he met El. But… my life started the day I met him.” He teared up “He never judged me for anything. He always let me be me. I-“ He paused turning and crying. You gently patted his back. “No no I get it. It’s like… that person in your life that makes you feel truly alive no matter what. The person that’s always there for you.” He wiped his tears and looked at you. “Really? What’s his name?” You held your breath and let out a sigh. “It’s… Max, Max Mayfield. I get it Will.” You hugged him for what felt like forever. Will was your brother. Your best friend. He always had been. “I’m. Yknow.” Will said flailing his arms. “Me too Will. Me too.” You said, understanding. “You know, this one time Mike told me he has every single one of your drawings. It was recently too, in one of his letters.” Will perked up, excitement and love in his eyes “Really?? Where’s the letter? Let me see!” You chuckled and pulled it out. “Has max been writing you letters or calling at all?” You shrugged, Max was usually busy. And anyways why would she. She has Lucas. “Well,” Will said standing up “Tomorrow is my birthday and Mike and Max are coming over. Maybe we can all play a round of D&D to make up for lost time!” You perked up absolutely obsessed with the idea. “Who’s gonna be in our party??? We haven’t exactly made that many friends here…” ·:¨༺ ★ ༻¨:·. He Knows ·:¨༺ ★ ༻¨:·. “I’ve always wanted to learn how to play.” Jonathan came into the room, your Big Brother. It’s surprising he’s not stoned out of his mind tonight. The two of you though, we’re dumbstruck. You hadn’t realized you left the door open. “Don’t worry I was the only one who heard,” Jonathan came over and hugged the both of you, you felt tears stream down your face. He didn’t let go. “Listen, I’ve told Will this a thousand times and I’ll tell you both until you get it through your thick skulls. But I’m your brother, there’s nothing either of you could do or say or be that would make me stop loving you. I’m here for you.”

I got lazy, should I finish?

#will byers #byler #byler angst #will stranger things #stranger things x reader #isaiah’s idiocy #max mayfield #max mayfeild x reader #Will x sibling! Reader #jonathon byers

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samsexualdeancurious · 1 year

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Moonlight

Pairing: Sam x Reader, mentioned Reader x OC

Words: 1,111

Summary: Moonlit nights are perfect for deep thoughts.

Warnings: This is set post 15x20, so spoilers! Also included - gender-neutral reader, dad!Sam. No Wincest but the boys are canonically soulmates, so.

Written for an Angel request.

A/N: I really struggled with this prompt but I'm really pleased with the results and I hope you guys like them, too!

---

Sam’s breathing is quiet in the dark room, the only sound besides your own. He’s sleeping peacefully tonight for the first time in almost a week and now it’s your turn to lie awake until the wee hours of the morning when you can finally justify getting up and making coffee. You’d get up now but both your boys are hyper-tuned to your movements. If you stir, you’ll have both a grumpy grown man and a crying baby on your hands, and Dean has only just started sleeping for longer stretches during the night.

Moonlight creeps through the cracks in the blinds, falling in gentle stripes of silver across Sam’s face. He’s lying on his stomach, face turned towards you on the pillow. Your eyes trace the curves of him. His long torso, his broad shoulders. The soft curls of his hair haloed around his head and falling across his high cheekbone. The fan of his eyelashes on his cheek. The delicate point of his nose and beneath it, pink lips set in a thoughtful line.

What is he dreaming about?

It’s nothing bad, or at least nothing nightmare-worthy. No, Sam Winchester is sleeping as quietly as his son tonight.

You’ve gotten used to the nightmares, though that doesn’t mean you don’t worry about Sam any less even after a couple of years together. He’s told you some details and others you’ve gleaned from outside sources - stories passed through the hunting community, mostly, and a few from Sam’s friends. You know the broad strokes of Sam’s story as a result but still. Every little bit he shares with you feels like a gift. The lone remaining Winchester letting someone in.

Not alone anymore, you think as you hear the waking coos of your son over the baby monitor. Sam stirs in response but you’re already sitting up. You reach one hand out to smooth your palm over your partner’s shoulder, the other grabbing the monitor from your bedside table. On the video display, you can see Dean kicking his legs as he gears up to what you already know is going to be a hungry cry.

“He okay?” Sam mumbles, lifting his head and rubbing sleep from his eyes.

“He’s fine,” you assure him. “Just hungry. I’ve got it.”

Sam sinks back into his pillow with a sigh and you slip from the bed. As soon as your feet hit the cold hardwood floor, Dean’s soft coos morph into definite “I’m hungry” sounds. He needs some food and then he should sleep the rest of the night just fine.

You pause in the doorway to look back at Sam and smile softly at the sight of him, already slipping into sleep again.

Your mind wanders as you go about the motions of prepping Dean’s bottle, bouncing him in the curve of your other arm as you do. You can’t help thinking about when you first met Sam. Both of you were still raw and hurting at the time, processing grief that no one else seemed to understand. The last thing you were looking for was a partner of any kind and yet, Sam was exactly what you needed. You don’t know for sure but you hope you’ve been the same for him.

Sam’s the first person you partnered on a hunt with after your husband passed. After almost two decades with David as your sole partner, it took a case you never could have handled alone for you to admit that you needed help. Jody sent Sam your way and the rest, as they say, is history. Sam understands the pain you still deal with daily in a way no one else has - he says it’s because he and Dean were soulmates and says you and David are the same. It means you’ll get to see David again, a thought you’re not sure you believe but you find comfort in all the same.

You can’t help but wonder what David would think of all this. Would he be happy for you? You hope so. You can’t imagine David wanting anything but happiness for you and you’re sure Dean would feel the same way about Sam settling down.

Dean snuffles softly when you offer him the bottle, more than happy to accept the food. Just like his namesake, according to Sam. You never met Sam’s brother Dean but you’ve heard the stories and you think you would’ve liked him.

You may have never met the Winchesters before Dean’s death but you’d heard the stories, about the brothers who would end the world to save each other. They were - and still are - a bit legendary in the hunting community and you know that if Dean hadn’t passed before you met with Sam, none of the last couple years would happen. You’re pretty sure of that.

“Dean would’ve made a great uncle, though,” you murmur to your son as you put the bottle in the sink to clean later. Baby Dean coos in response, eyelids already closing as you tip him upright to burp. “He would’ve liked you.”

“Yeah, he would have.”

You jump, whirling to see Sam standing in the kitchen doorway. He’s running his hands through his hair, smoothing out the mess from sleep the way he always does. Perfect hair, seriously. It’s not fair. He’s still a little bleary-eyed as he crosses the kitchen just in time for Dean to burp and spit up a little onto your pajama shirt. Sam chuckles, grabs a towel from the drawer, and reaches for his son. You hand him over, grimacing at the mess.

“Go changed,” he says softly, bouncing Dean. The baby looks impossibly small against his broad chest, especially when Dean snuggles deeper into his father’s embrace. “I’ll put him back to bed.”

“You were supposed to stay asleep,” you scold without any real heat to it.

Sam shrugs. “You were thinking too loudly.”

You give his shoulder a playful smack and are rewarded with a soft laugh as you head back down the hall to your bedroom. Like before, you pause in the doorway to look back at Sam. He has his head ducked down to press his nose into Dean’s soft hair, his eyes closed as he sways a little in the center of the dark room. You’re not sure where things will go from here - how long you and Sam will last as a couple - but you know you’ll be supporting each other through it all and it’s better to live in this moment, where moonlight curls silver around Sam’s silhouette and you smile at the sight of the man who saved the world rocking his son to sleep.

—

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—

Team Forever: @mrswhozeewhatsis @manawhaat @books-and-icecream @laughing-at-the-darkness @tumbler-tidbits @emoryhemsworth @imsuperawkward @onethirstyunicorn

#my writing #sam x reader #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural fic #supernatural #spn fanfiction #spn fic #spn fanfic #spn 15x02

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openheart12 · 1 year

Text

Paradise

A/N: these red bulls are fueling my ass, also fuck canon, my girl michelle is alive and happy and healthy (for the most part)

Summary: The car bomb almost took her life, but it wouldn’t take the future.

WC: 1,020

Warning: mention of miscarriage

“Mr. Almeida,” the nurse called softly, waking him from his sleep.

He shot up out of the chair when he saw her. “Is she okay? Did she wake up?”

“No, her vitals are still stable. This is against protocol, but if you want, you can go back there tonight with her. I’ll be here all night so if you need anything, let me know.”

“Thank you,” he replied before making his way to her room.

It had been exactly a week since the car bomb. A week since their life changed. A week that went by without hearing her voice or seeing her eyes. She hadn’t woken up yet and the doctors weren’t optimistic about her chances. She had third degree burns over ninety percent of her body and contusions to her chest and face.

En route to the hospital, she had coded and they couldn’t get her back until Tony had all but begged for them to try again and out of pity, they had. That was when they got a heartbeat again.

She was down for over twenty minutes and the doctors were fearful of brain damage. Yet, she passed the tests to determine brain death. Still, the question if she would fully recover remained.

He took a seat in the chair beside her bed, grabbing her hand which was always warm.

The nurse walked in a few minutes later, doing a quick physical exam and redressing her burns. “She’s a fighter.” “You have no idea,” he said with a small smile. “She’s the strongest person I know.”

“How long have you two been together?” “About five years.”

“Really? I would’ve guessed a lot longer than that.”

“Yeah, well it took a long time for us to realize our feelings for each other,” he smiled fondly, recalling the bittersweet memories of the CTU bombing.

“Sounds like your love was made for movie screens.” “It’d make for a good drama show, that’s for sure,” he laughed. She went to walk out when he spoke again. “Andi, thank you for doing this.” “Of course. And Tony, for what it’s worth, I really do hope she pulls through. From what you’ve told me about her, she sounds amazing.”

“She is. She really is,” he said, his gaze falling back to Michelle.

Hours had passed when he felt a small stir in the bed. His eyes adjusted to the lights to find her slowly starting to open her own eyes. Jumping up, he pressed the call button. “Hey, hey, it’s me. You’re okay.”

“Tony? W-what happened,” she asked.

“What’s the last thing you remember?”

“We were in the kitchen and that’s all I remember.”

Andi walked in a minute later, surprise evident on her face to see her awake. “Hey, Michelle,” she said softly. “Do you know what year it is, honey?”

“2006,” she replied.

“Do you know where you are?” “A hospital. Can someone tell me what’s going on?” Her eyes landed on Tony’s, silenting pleading with him.

He shared a quick look with the nurse, not wanting to risk her health. She nodded, letting him know it was okay to tell her before giving them some privacy.

“David Palmer was assassinated and you wanted to go to CTU to help, but we had a business meeting with Rick. I didn’t want to go so you walked out to your car and I changed my mind. I called Rick and told him we couldn’t make it. That’s when the explosion went off.”

“Explosion? Why would someone put a bomb in my car?” “We were targeted because we helped Jack fake his death, they wanted to frame Jack for Palmer’s murder and to lure him out of hiding. We were just collateral.”

Taking all of this information in at once was hard, she still had so many questions. “Wait, Tony, what about the baby?” His face dropped and she knew. “Oh my god.” Tears welled up in her eyes and his heart broke seeing her like that.

“Hey, shh, it’s okay, Michelle.” He tried to comfort her, cupping her face. She went to lay her hand on her stomach, wincing at the pain it caused. “I know this is a lot to take in and I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere,” he promised.

“Can you lay with me?” She asked quietly.

“I don’t wanna hurt you, sweetheart. Your body is covered in burns.”

“Please, Tony,” she begged. She needed his touch to ground her.

He relented, carefully getting into the bed next to her, trying to be as careful as possible. Wrapping his arm around her, she nuzzled into his side, her head lying on his chest. His other hand rested on her shoulder, squeezing it from time to time. He placed a kiss to the side of her head as she drifted off to sleep.

Half an hour later, Andi walked in to do a quick check up on her. “How’s she doing?” She asked, taking note of her vitals.

“Okay, considering the circumstances. She asked about the baby, she took it really hard.”

“I’m so sorry, Tony. I can’t imagine how difficult this is on you and her.”

“I’m just glad she’s okay, that’s all I need.”

She smiled in return. “If you need anything, anything at all, please let me know. But on a better note, the doctor said she should be able to go home in a few days.”

Home. Their home was a mess with glass all over the place, burn marks in the grass, a nursery they wouldn’t be able to use. That house was supposed to be their fresh start, they finally got away from CTU. And they almost lost their lives… again. He couldn’t imagine if he had actually lost her, he’d come so close.

“You two can get through this, Tony. I know it might not seem like it right now, but from what I know, you’re both fighters.”

“Thank you.”

“Of course, get some rest,” she said, turning off the light.

They’ve overcome so much already, they could get over this too. With each other by their side, nothing was impossible.

#tony x michelle #michelle dessler #tony almeida #24 #24 fanfic #24 fox

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