#fic Dwayne Pride | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

chevvsgotanumbrellatattoo · 5 months ago

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Aces

Story Technicals:

-Synopsis: The Boys try to use their powers on you, to no avail. Little do they know, you are Ace.

-Written in second person for inclusivity of all kinds! :D

-Slightly excesssive use of italics because that's apparently how I write emphasis *vampiric shrug*

-Word Count: 3,768

-Also why is writing people flirting so. freaking. hard.

♠️Soapbox below intro, fic below soapbox&references. Please read the soapbox, it explains certain bits of the fic <3 and asexuality ♠️

(banners courtesy of cafekitsune!)

HI BEANS!!! Gods, this fic has been in the works for a hot minute. The idea came about and is fully credited to @checkitoutmikey! I love this idea and I really really r e a l l y wanted to do it justice. There's so much misunderstanding about asexuality and Aces that I wanted to clear the air a little via fic. (I find that sometimes it's easier to grasp a concept if it's written using characters you know!)

Alright. Soapbox time.

As an Ace (a person who identifies as asexual), I have based this on my own experiences, stories I have heard, and I have fact checked things I wasn't 100% on, such as the black ring—♠️Please let it be known that, according to this webpage, the black ace ring did not come about until 2005, but for the purposes of this fic, it felt like an important piece of information to include.♠️ This being said, this part of the fic is not time accurate. Sorry, Santa Carla. *another vampiric shrug*

I really poured my heart and soul into this fic. I want to spread awareness to those who may not know about asexuality. I was in high school when I found out that there was a word for what I was feeling. It was revolutionary to learn that there wasn't anything wrong with me. It was so, so freeing. If my words can be the medium that introduces someone out there to asexuality and lets them know that they're not broken, then this fic will have served its purpose. As a bonus, I’ll put a few resources below that I find exceptionally helpful for learning about asexuality (please feel free to reblog with more resources or, if you'd rather, you can DM me the sources so I can add them to the post!).

Okay, okay, I did play on the cake cliché (because, at least in my case, it's TRUE), but aside from that, I think I explained things pretty accurately and cliché-free. I know there’s a lot more information I could have included (see: dragons), but then I would be writing forever and this would never get posted and let's face it—we all need a dose of our gay 80s vampires in this year of 2024.

If you have someone who expresses their aceness to you, accept them and support them, for the love of cheese, crackers, and rock box tapes. Not experiencing/experiencing very little sexual attraction in a society that basically runs and prides itself on sex can be incredibly isolating and depressing. Disclosing this information to people takes a hel of a lot of energy, bravery, confidence, and trust. Allow us to disclose this information to the people we choose and DO NOT do the job of coming out for us. Not all of us want or can come out. Respect our boundaries and we'll remember the effort forever.

We are not broken. We are not faking it. We are valid and there is nothing wrong with us. You are not alone.

Resources:

♠️‘I Am Ace (Advice on Living Your Best Asexual Life)’ by Cody Daigle-Orians ($15-$20 on Amazon, around $10 on ThriftBooks)

THE BEST BOOK I HAVE EVER BOUGHT WITH MY ADULT MONEY. Essentially a handbook on everything (or almost everything) you've ever needed or wanted to know about asexuality. I think everyone needs to read this book at least once in their lives. It explains asexuality so thoroughly and concisely without being bitchy or conceited. Daigle-Orians shares his experiences throughout the book, and it was incredibly validating to know that I wasn't alone in some of these experiences.

He also touches on aromanticism! Cody Daigle-Orians has Instagram, YouTube, and a webpage: ♠️Instagram ♠️YouTube ♠️Webpage

♠️Asexual Visibility and Education Network (AVEN)

An absolute fount of knowledge about all things Asexuality (and occasionally Aromanticism!). Their Tumblr answers Asks semi-often, too! ♠️Website ♠️Tumblr

Trigger warnings (in order of appearance) ⚠️:

David smoking cigs

General cuss words

Being cat-called / harassed by Surf Nazis (the Boys protect you, don't worry)

Does kinda/sorta include a microaggression (‘don't know til u try it’ one)

Unwanted pet-name ("doll face")

Talk of David eating any future cat-callers

The Boys attempting to use powers of persuasion on you (Da-da-da, does not work)

The topic of consent/non-consensual sex coming up because the MC asks our undead idiots (/pos) if they understand the concept of consent (they do)

The MC being worried about the Boys thinking they're ‘broken’ (THIS ISN'T POSSIBLE BC ACES AREN'T BROKENNNNN)

Marko hitting the MC with the ‘plant’ microaggression bc bro is cute but he can be a little dense (it hurt to write, trust me, but idk. something in me felt like it was important to show the Ace's side of microaggressions, especially the ones that come from people who are genuinely trying to understand)

If I missed any warnings, please let me know! I always try to cover anything that could even be partially/potentially triggering, just in case!

WITH ALL THAT BEING SAID, HAPPY (belated) PRIDE MY DARLINGS AND MOTOR BABIES!!! ENJOY THE RIDE!!!!

🥳🥳🥳🥳

Combat boots. Grippy jeans. Band t-shirt. A flannel that barely hugged your hips since the knot was coming undone. You tightened it, flashing a wicked smile at your boys.

"Finally decided to show up," you sauntered up to the four, taking your time crossing the boardwalk.

"We've been waiting on you for 10 minutes." David exhaled cig smoke with each word.

"I know." You smirked. You rolled your eyes at his unrelenting glare—the glare you knew was fake because you knew this ringleader little vamp was secretly so so excited to see you—and pecked his cheek. "I got caught up in traffic."

"You ride a bike."

"Motorbike. And unlike some," you fussed with his coat, just to have an excuse to touch him. "I have to follow traffic laws. Can't have me dying on my way here, huh?" He brought the cigarette close to his mouth, but you pushed it away, planting a kiss on his warm, nicotine-tinted lips. You felt him tense, surprised, but soon relaxing into it. Pulling back, you took his face in your hands. Taking the kiss from him early was slightly amusing. "I'm sorry. It happens."

"C'mon, David! Don't hog the kisses!" Paul whined. You grinned, bouncing over and tackle-hugging Paul, pressing kisses all over his gleeful face.

"There's plenty, Paulie!" You relished in the sound of his giggles. His pale face grew colorful due to his bright smile. "So! What chaos are we committing tonight?" Your wicked little grin finally broke David's frown.

"Cotton candy, carousel," Marko matched your grin with his own. "Paul wants to check out the live music."

"The sax guy's back!"

"Jewelry store got a new shipment, too. Might swipe you somethin' nice." Dwayne purred into your ear, pulling you from Paul and to his chest. You shuddered at the sound and the feeling of his nose against your neck. You moved, grinning up at him and making a smile break across his face. "Hi, sweetheart."

"Hi," a giggle slipped from your throat. You felt yourself being yanked into another solid frame: multi-colored patches and blond curls. "Marko!" You could hear his grin laced within the Italian he muttered into your ear. He knew damn well you couldn't understand him, but he didn't care, and nor did you. You found it endlessly attractive.

"Let's go fuel up." He said. You nodded, allowing yourself to be pulled away by the hyper blond.

Waiting in line for funnel cakes, David and Dwayne watched in silent amusement as you and the terror twins kept pinballing off of each other's energy, talking about which rides to go on before the live music. Finally retrieving 5 of the fried treats, you parked yourselves on a railing, chowing down and laughing over nothing.

"I can not finish this. One of you want it?" You held out the plate. David—still licking the powdered sugar from his fingers—held out his free hand, demanding the plate. "You just barely finished yours, David." Again, his hand beckoned the plate forward—the stoic vampire equivalent of grabby hands.

"David fuckin' loves funnel cake. Don't try to stop him." Paul snickered. Now satisfyingly snackless, you stood and stretched, popping your neck and scaring the shit out of Marko. A whistle interrupted his retort.

"Hey, baby, come over here!" Surf Nazis. "We got better snacks than those boys do!" Gyration followed by loud cackling. You rolled your eyes, perching next to Marko.

"Pricks." You huffed. You moved your foot, heel pressed into Dwayne's shoulder to stop him from standing. "Leave it alone. They'll get bored."

But they didn't get bored. Instead, the gaggle of Surf Nazis made their way over. Your silent seething held your vampires in place. You ignored the group until they spoke.

"Why don't you come spend some time with real men?" The ringleader tried to slide close. You put a foot up against his chest, stopping him.

"I know how I like my men, and honey, you're not done cooking." Your voice was ice, eyes boring holes into his skull. Snort from Paul. The other Surf Nazis chittered.

"How do you know if you've never tried?" The ringleader wouldn't give in.

"I don't need to drink poison to know the taste will be bitter." That wiped the smirk from his face. You pushed him away, dropping your foot and staring him down. He, once again, tried to come onto you.

"Look." You stood. "See this ring? It means I'm a member of the Black Ring Society. We have a very specific set of qualifications that allow us entry. These qualifications make us immune to mortals' pathetic attempts at enticing us with their corporeal form, such as the pitiful display you're putting on now." David choked on his drink, trying not to laugh. The Surf Nazis all looked dumbfounded.

"W-What?"

"I don't wanna ride your dick. Go away."

At this, Dwayne stood. Your cleverness was clearly wasted on these idiots. The other three stood around you as well, prepared to pounce while simultaneously providing a silent, yet protective, barrier.

"This isn't a fight you want to start tonight." Dwayne growled. You heard Marko popping his knuckles for effect, ready to knock the lights out of whoever approached him first.

"You don't know what we want." A lower Surf Nazi got stopped by a higher up.

"Yes we do, and you're not getti-"

"I'm not a piece of meat. I said no." You raised your voice, cutting Paul off. "If you and your cohorts don't leave, I will call for the boardwalk officer." You knew the officer wouldn't be pleased to see you and the boys either, but the Surf Nazis loved their beach time too much to risk it.

"Watch your back, doll face." Defeated, the ringleader sauntered off, his crew following behind. You huffed, leaning against the railing again.

"You okay?" Marko looked at you. You shrugged.

"Let's go ride some rides."

Several rides into the night, your mood had improved considerably. Paul practically ripped your arm from its socket dragging you to the music stage. Settled in a sandy little corner near a fire bin, you waited impatiently, but your thought process was interrupted by an arm snaking around your waist.

"Feeling better, darling?" David.

"Yeah. I get shit like that all the time." You shrugged, leaning into his embrace. "Don't worry. Nothin's happened."

"If it does, I'll murder them and eat the entrails." He promised, an unlit cig perched at his lips. You took it before he could light it. Confusion rippled over his pretty features. You hated when he frowned.

"Wait this once? The smells out here are a lot right now." At your unintentional puppy face, David couldn't find himself able to say no. He slid the nic-stick back into the carton, contenting himself with holding you close. Despite the bodies and fire nearby, there was a distinct chill in the air. You burrowed into David, wrapping yourself in his coat. He chuckled, moving you in front of him and cocooning you in the extra fabric. Now warm, you grinned, burying your face in it. Hints of cig smoke, mints, and pilfered cologne reached your nose, soothing the overworked sense.

"If you wanna be so close, why don't we go back to the cave? I'll keep you warm, kitten." His voice was low and gravelly. He pressed a tiny kiss to your ear, smirking. "You're so sweet, I could eat you up like a funnel cake." With that, he nipped your ear. You laughed, but frowned. He was puzzled to see confusion on your face.

"We came for the music, though. Why would we go back to the cave?" You looked at his dumbfounded face, lost. You didn't have a lot of time to dwell on this thought because the crowd of people around you erupted. The music was starting.

****

An hour set! It was amazing. You danced with the four respectively, the music fueling your soul in a way that funnel cake couldn't. Paul was so giddy and happy he got to see "sax guy" again.

"C'mere, peaches." He twirled you to him, catching you in his arms. His nose brushed yours, mischief in his eyes. "I prolly got some dance moves left that you've not seen."

"Is that so?" You laughed. "I think I saw them all on the dance floor." You broke free of his grip, moving to cooler air. Dancing had replaced all chills with sweat. To your astonishment, Paul looked dumbfounded as well, glancing at Marko and David. "What do you boys wanna do now?"

"I can think of a couple things." Marko purred, grabbing your hips and pulling you into him. "You look so good in those jeans, baby. I'd love to draw your pretty curves in 'em." His forehead to yours, you got lost in his eyes for a moment. He tightened the flannel at your middle, hand traipsing up your side a bit, but you grabbed it, seamlessly sliding out of his grip, giggling. You were riding a concert high, eyes sparkling. Marko looked surprised, but Dwayne took your hand.

"How 'bout a milkshake?" He raised an eyebrow.

"Sounds delectable!" You grinned. It had been too long since you had had a milkshake. The other three looked positively shocked. You giggled, sliding up to David. You hooked his chin with your finger, closing his pretty mouth. "You look like a bunny when your mouth hangs open like that, luvvie. Keep it up, and I'll kiss your little teeth." David blinked, looking at you. He smiled now, moving to peck the appendage at his chin.

"You heard 'em, boys. Milkshakes await," he raised an eyebrow, taking your hand. You laughed, moving back over to Dwayne and letting him drape an arm around you as you walked.

The small diner was crowded, but thinning out. Four of you slid into a booth, Paul taking the odd seat at the end of the table. The waiter was clearly overwhelmed when they came up to you, but you assured them that you were in no hurry.

"You're doing great," you smiled. They relaxed a bit, smiling. They looked close to tears.

"What can I get ya?"

You ordered the milkshakes with ease, laying dramatically on Dwayne as you waited. He rolled his eyes, but moved his arm to support your weight. Marko and Paul bounced off your energy, but overall, the four just seemed… confused. In an attempt to combat their frowns, you reached up and squished Dwayne's stoic face in your hand, making him smile. He moved your hand, wrinkling his nose up at you. You tried to grab his pouty little face again, but he pretended to bite at your hand, making you laugh outright.

"Okay!" You sat up.

"Silly little pretty one." He teased, pressing a kiss to your head. Your heart melted, beating twice as fast. "If you want a kiss, just ask."

"Maybe I will," you grinned mischievously. He rolled his eyes dramatically.

"Here ya go!" The waiter passed them out. "Enjoy!"

"Thank you!" You answered for the boys, who were already sipping on the sweet drinks. You caught David's eye, giggling slightly.

"What?"

"Chocoholic." You accused. He kicked your foot lightly under the table, biting back a grin.

"As opposed to… what did you get?" He frowned at the sprinkles on top of your shake.

"Birthday cake," you unsheathed your straw, taking a huge sip. The vampiric grabby hands returned. You couldn't save your drink from him as a brain freeze settled behind your eyes. It thawed out just in time to see David's face wrinkle up.

"No." He slid it back to you, shaking his head. You laughed.

"Chocoholic."

"Cake fanatic."

"Thank you!" You fake gasped. He pretended to ignore you.

"Maybe once we're done here, I can show y-" Marko shoved a napkin in Paul's mouth, cutting him off.

"Do not ruin their cake obsession." He quipped, ignoring the coughing fit he sent his brother into. Once it passed, you looked at the rocker.

"What were you saying?" He squirmed slightly under the glares of the others.

"Just askin' if you wanted to go to the cave, peaches." He stirred his milkshake around sheepishly, not looking up from the sweet confection. You frowned.

"What is it with the cave tonight?" You pressed. "You all have been dying to spend tonight on the boardwalk, but you keep trying to get back there." You frowned at your milkshake now, upset by the confusing conversations scattered throughout the night. Dwayne nudged your arm, getting your attention.

"You know about our.. specific dietary tastes, right?" He started. You nodded. "And that we have… certain… qualities?"

"Well, yeah." You had no idea where this was going. You were in public. They could get caught talking about bloodthirst and powers out in the open. "I saw David make a Surf Nazi eat a slushie covered pretzel from the trash last week." The vamp in question snickered at this, half-hiding his face in his treat.

"That skill set in particular, persuasion.." Dwayne was trailing off a lot and it was kind of irritating. You huffed. He got the message. "It includes relationship things. Partner things." He brushed your hair from your face.

"What do you mean?" You weren't getting it.

"We've been flirting all night." David said flatly. Dwayne scoffed at him, a 'really?' look on his face. "What was it you said? ‘Enticement of the corporeal form?’" Heat flooded your face as you fidgeted with your straw, staring at the treat.

They were hitting on you.

"So the cave… you wanted.. alone time." The idea repulsed you. You were all massive flirts, but the thought of that made your stomach flip. The milkshake in front of you no longer sounded appealing. "If this has all just been a game for you four to inevitably get in my pants and then eat me-"

"Relax." Marko stopped your words. "If that were the case, we'd have done it by now. We love you for you, baby." His bluntness took you aback, but you noted the gentleness in his voice. You still squirmed at the idea.

"So… what? You've been trying to make me… have sex with you?" The word was revolting. You hated the taste.

"I was teasing. At the music, when you were wrapped up in my coat. I had no intention, really, but it didn't work on you." David explained.

"You used your powers on me???" You hissed. He nodded curtly, earning him a violent kick to the shin. He visibly winced, nearly spilling his milkshake.

"They didn't work!" He hissed right back. "All of us tried it."

"All of you?" Rage settled in your veins. David biting your ear. Paul's 'dance moves.' Marko's comment about your jeans. It all made so much more sense.

"We weren't going to go through with it!" Paul insisted. "Really. The only reason we did it was to try to figure out why they aren't working on you." His puppy eyes ripped at you, but you ignored him.

"They didn't work?" You raised an eyebrow.

"Mine did, but it didn't take much to convince you to get a milkshake." Dwayne piped up. He sipped on his drink lightly, clearly enjoying that he wasn't in the kill zone.

"Don't think you're safe." His smirk dropped. "What the hel makes you think I want to have sex?” You pointed this question at the ringleader, staring him down as he rubbed at his shin.

"You're so fuckin flirty, peaches! We all just.. sorta assumed-" you smacked the back of Paul's head.

"Idiots. Just because you're not sick doesn't mean you can't joke about it." You stood, taking your milkshake to the counter and getting a to-go cup. You paid and left, sitting beachside as you finished your treat. It was quite a while until the boys found you. When they approached, you didn't acknowledge them.

“Can we sit?” David asked. You noted the slight embarrassment behind his voice, but nodded. The four perched in the sand, antsy and guilty looking. Simply put, they looked like drenched little bats—upset and shivering under your cold gaze.

“We're sorry, peaches.” Paul actually had tears in his eyes, bless his undead little heart. “We should've been honest with you.”

“We were mostly confused why they weren't working, and you ended up being the guinea pig.” Marko added. “They always work on Surf Nazis and nosy adults and annoying eight-year-olds, but not on you. Not… not for that.” You tensed.

“Which is still the most appalling, downright nasty thing any creature could ever do! Have you even heard of consent?”

“We have! We know, peaches!”

“Trust us, Max drilled that into our heads way before we turned.” David said quietly. “We shouldn't have used our powers on you, kitten.” David apologizing. That was one for the history books. That didn't excuse anything though.

“Don't do it again or I swear-”

“We swear.” Dwayne cut you off before your voice got louder than the waves. “On jaguars and funnel cake and the rock box and pigeons.” He held out a pinky. You looked over all four of them; genuine regret poured from their vibes, heavy and thick and sludgy. You turned away from Dwayne, looking instead at the ocean.

“I want to know why.” Your voice was icier than David's irises.

“We told you, we don't know.” Dwayne sighed. “It worked when you wanted to learn to skate but were too scared to initiate. Which is the only time we've done it outside this!” He added quickly, recoiling under your glare.

“Yeah, I remember. It was ‘cuz I told you to. I knew I was too much of a wuss and didn't wanna back out.” You relented. You listened to the waves for a few minutes, the five of you thinking.

“Babe, what was that thing you said to that Surf Nazi earlier?” Marko asked. You frowned.

“Uhm.. oh, that. It's a long-winded and overly clever way of explaining my ring.” He still looked confused. “I was telling them that they couldn't seduce me with their bodies because that type of thing doesn't interest me.”

“What does that mean?” Dwayne asked slowly. “You don't.. you don't feel attraction?” You were about to be mad, but the genuine curiosity and want to understand on his face calmed the wave of rage down to a small ripple.

“Not sexual attraction, no.” You said. David looked bewildered, to say the least. You laughed lightly, your grin confusing them more. “I'm asexual.”

“Asexual? Like plan-”

“You idiot, of course not!” You kicked Marko. “It means a person who experiences very little or no sexual attraction. In my case, I experience none. The entire concept of sex feels too… vulnerable and invasive. So for me, I'm sex repulsed. The entire notion makes me anxious and nauseous.”

“So what about... romantic attraction?” David piped up. “You aren't just playing us, are you?” He almost looked hurt. The wall you put up softened a little.

“Boys.” You smiled weakly. They were truly trying to understand, they just didn't have the information to do so. “Of course not. Sexual attraction and romantic attraction are very different. You can still want the romance without the sex. The lack of romantic attraction is called being aromantic. You can be aro/ace—which is just lingo for aromantic and asexual respectively—or you can be one or the other. Or neither. That's also an option.” They chuckled.

“So you're still with us?” You smiled at Paul's sheepishness.

“I'm still your partner, yes.” You said. The air got less tense. “Did that answer your questions?”

“Most of ‘em.” Marko said. He was still rubbing his arm. “Still doesn't explain the persuasion not working.” You thought about this for a moment, fidgeting with your flannel.

“You were trying to convince me to.. have sex with you, right?” Your stomach flipped at the idea. Color rushed to their translucent faces, but they nodded. It clicked. You grinned. “I think it didn't work because you can't make someone feel something they aren't hardwired to feel. The idea wouldn't stick because I don't feel that attraction.” Realization flooded the air. The vibe lightened.

“What about the ring?”

“It's a symbol for asexuality, a way for us to show our pride in public in a quiet way. A way for other aces to see and recognize each other. A black ring on your right middle finger. For aromantics, it's the same concept, but a white ring on your left middle finger.” They nodded, small smiles on their faces. A thought tugged at your brain, making your confidence and smile drain right out of you. What if you messed things up by explaining? The boys must think you're weird or pining for attention.

“You don't think of me differently now, do you?”

“How do you mean?” David asked.

“Just.. thinking I'm weird… or confused... or broken.” You looked down, embarrassed and afraid. Their silence was deafening. It would be easier to deal with if they just started yell-

“Of course not, peaches.” Paul's voice left no room for argument. “We don't think you're broken or weird. You just experience the world a little differently, and that's okay.” Your head shot up, looking at him. The other three nodded. A weight left your chest, forcing air into your lungs as your brain forgot how to breathe. They didn't think you were broken. They didn't think you were weird or looking for attention or confused. They saw you for you. Pressure pooled behind your eyes, blurring your vision before a blink sent the warm water down your face.

“You mean it?” Your voice shook and you hated it. The four looked stricken with worry and a deep sense of care.

“Of course we mean it, darling. We love you for you.”

“Thank you for trusting us with this. We know coming out can be hard, but it means a lot that you explained it to us.”

“We won't tell anyone, promise. That's information that is yours to disclose to whomever you choose.”

“We're still here for you, darling, that hasn't changed.”

******

It had been a few weeks since you had explained asexuality to your protective vampires. True to their word, nothing changed, and that small but incomparable fact made your heart soar. For the first time in a long time, you felt validated. You felt seen. You felt accepted.

Your pride grew even more when you noticed Paul start to wear a black ring on his right middle finger. From then on, you were a bit more loud and proud about your aceness.

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moonlight-breeze-44 · 2 years ago

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Bad Things Happen Bingo Prompt Fill - "Disowned by Family"

Shelter From the Storm

When Gregorio comes out to her mother, the fallout leaves her falling back into old habits. Pride, however, is determined to remind her that she isn't alone in her struggles and that there are people that care about and love her just as she is right there in New Orleans. Sometimes, family doesn't have to be blood. Sometimes family can be found.

Pairings: None main; background PerSalle

Rating: Teen

Warnings: Self-harm, self-worth/esteem issues, general mental health issues, homophobia, disownment, blood/injury

Read on AO3

Gregorio knew it was only a matter of time before she had to make the phone call, but it didn’t mean getting the courage to dial her mother’s number and press call was any easier.

Now, alone in her apartment, she wished her heart would stop pounding into the beginnings of a panic attack and let her fucking breathe. Her hands were so clammy with sweat that she half-expected the phone to slip and fall to the ground. She wondered if maybe it would be better if it did. It would mean she didn’t have to face this.

Gregorio loved her mom, but that was half of the problem. Her mother could be old-fashioned, and Gregorio had been raised in the countryside of New York with two dogs, an old cat, and no father to speak of. In some ways, Gregorio was a lot more like LaSalle than she wanted to admit.

As she waited for Emily Gregorio to pick up her phone, Tammy paced; she was her mother’s only child, and if what she said today devastated her like she feared it would, she doubted there would be another chance for them. This stupid fucking phone call was going to define their entire relationship, and the fear was enough to make Tammy grab the chair in front of her for support, nails scrabbling for purchase along the worn fiber.

No turning back now.

“Tammy?” Her mother’s voice, pragmatic as always, filled Gregorio’s ears and she flinched. Maybe she wasn’t as ready for this as she thought. “What’s wrong?”

It was a response that most other people would consider harsh or brusque, but in reality, Emily was just being realistic; Tammy almost never called unless she was backed into a corner and needed something. Her mother never called unless someone had died. It was a routine that Tammy couldn’t bring herself to feel bad for, considering her mother’s part in it and the lack of warmth between them. But their lack of contact made what Tammy had to say even harder to reveal.

“Mom, I have something to tell you,” Tammy breathed, trying to keep her voice as steady and strong as she could while the panic rattled in her ribcage. She could do this. She had to.

“Oh my god, are you pregnant?” Emily exclaimed, and Tammy heard the blatant delight in her voice at the thought. She shook her head, even though she knew her mother couldn’t see her. This was going to make it even harder to burst her bubble. When the silence stretched on a beat too long, she rolled her shoulders, shaking them out, trying to calm her nerves.

“Uh, no, Mom, I’m not pregnant,” Tammy replied, heaving a deep breath. “I, uh…I-I’m…”

“You’re what, Tammy? Spit it out.”

“I’m gay,” Tammy burst out, chest heaving with having the pressure of her secret released. She felt herself begin to tremble and leaned more of her weight onto the old chair in front of her. “I’m, uh, I’m a lesbian, Mom. I like women.”

The silence that followed her revelation felt like claws around Gregorio’s neck, choking and scratching into her windpipe. She waited with bated breath. Everything hinged on her mother’s reaction. Tammy’s hands were shaking with fear. Even if they weren’t close, she still loved her mother. She still wanted her to be a part of her life.

“Tammy, I…I’m not sure what to say.”

“Anything,” Gregorio begged, hating how desperate she sounded, but she couldn’t wait any longer. “Just say something, please.”

“Well, you know this isn’t what I wanted for you,” Emily stated, and Tammy knew it was true. Memories of her bisexual phase in high school rushed to the forefront of her mind, and suddenly she couldn’t breathe past the mental images of her mother’s disdain when she was fifteen and dating Zara Matthews. The coldness in her mother’s voice, then and now, felt like Tammy had swallowed a burning hot coal that was beginning to scorch her insides.

“How will you have children, Tammy?” Emily continued, obviously distraught. Tammy’s fingers tightened on the phone, and she tried to take a deep breath; get herself under control.

“I can adopt,” she replied calmly, “Or find a surrogate. Or…” She paused, hesitating. She was already six feet deep and buried with her mother, it seemed; why not put the nail in her own coffin? “...or maybe I won’t have kids.”

“Tammy,” her mother said reproachfully, “You have to have kids!”

“Says who?” Tammy retorted, her hands trembling where they still held the back of the living room chair for dear life. “I mean, look at me. I’m okay, aren’t I? I’m happy. I, I don’t have to have kids. Besides, I’m an NCIS agent. Who would want a mom who does what I do?”

“A child that understands the meaning of sacrifice,” Emily snapped. “Which you clearly don’t.”

“Mom, I…”

“No, Tammy, just don’t.” Gregorio fell silent, biting her lip hard to avoid letting out the tears that had gathered in her eyes sometime during the phone call. Her mother loved her, she was sure. But Tammy could never be who she wanted, either. And if she had learned one thing from her time in New Orleans with Ethan, before NCIS, it was that sometimes love wasn’t enough.

“Look, dear, I’m not going to say that this is the end of things.” Gregorio’s breath hitched, and she had to fight to keep her emotions in check. She knew that tone well enough to know what her mother was really saying, and it was the end of things. God, she knew her mother wouldn’t approve, but to know it and to have it confirmed were two very different feelings.

“But you should know how I feel about this,” Emily continued, ignorant to her daughter’s pain. “I don’t think it’s right. I don’t think it’s natural. I always thought you grew out of that phase you had in high school, especially after you married Ethan. Which, I know that didn’t work out, but one bad apple doesn’t mean the whole barrel is bad. I-I don’t know what you want from me here, Tammy. You are my daughter, and I love you. But I will not support this lifestyle. When you’re ready, you can come back home. We can work this out. But until then, don’t - don’t call. Don’t visit. Please. Spare us both. I’m sure you won’t feel this way forever, Tammy. When you change your mind, I’ll be here. I’ll be waiting for you.”

“Mom - ”

“Tammy, please. Don’t make this any harder than it already is. Just-Just sort yourself out, okay? I’ll be here when you need me. I love you.” With that, the call dropped, and Gregorio sank to her knees behind the worn out chair, breathing hard and fast, on the verge of a fucking panic attack from the call. Emily was gone. She recognized the situation for what it was; her mother had given her an ultimatum. Become straight, or say goodbye to her and their home back in New York forever.

It wasn’t a choice at all.

With the sound of the dial tone in her ear, her mother’s final words before she hung up way too loud in her head, Tammy allowed herself to cry, the weight of the emotions she had struggled to hold back before escaping in full. She sobbed into her knees, her shoulders shaking. She couldn’t be something she wasn’t. She couldn’t change, even though there had been more than enough times that she wanted to. She couldn’t give her mother what she had asked for.

In all the ways that mattered, it was over.

She and her mother had never been close. The truth was that Tammy expected the call to end like this, but it was still more of a blow than she had ever expected to know that the woman who raised her would never accept her for who she was. Tammy felt lost, and cut open, like someone had twisted a knife in her and then left her to die on a street corner. She didn’t know what her next steps were, if there even were any, and more than anything, she felt vulnerable.

It was a feeling she wasn’t used to, between her secrecy about her private life and the walls she built around her heart, but it made her want to hide and protect her six from whatever was going to hurt her. But there was nothing to shield herself from, no imminent threat or dangerous gunman; just her own damage and that goddamn dial tone still humming in her ear, a reminder that she would never be able to call home again.

The thought of home sent a fresh wave of tears cascading down her cheeks, and Tammy finally ripped the cellphone from her ear, throwing it across hardwood until it crashed into the side of her refrigerator. She would regret that later, she was sure, but for now she didn’t care. She couldn’t. The only piece of herself that seemed to matter was in New York, probably opening a bottle of whiskey and no doubt planning to pray for her in church the next day.

Home was gone forever now, even if she hadn’t called it that in years. It was still the place where she was raised, and where she’d learned how to fight for herself in more ways than one. She loved the sprawling hills on their property, and the well where she had nearly drowned once as a child. She loved the fucking tire swing and the garden beds and the old barn where she used to go with the dogs when she needed to be alone. Their house and grounds were so beautiful that sometimes Gregorio hardly believed that she lived in New York growing up. All of it would become a memory now, and she would never be able to touch the wildflowers that grew along the fence line ever again. It shouldn’t have affected her so much, considering it had been years since she even wanted to go home, but the thought of losing it all forever was more than she could handle.

The tears, which hadn’t stopped or slowed in the slightest, were becoming overwhelming and almost nausea-inducing, so Gregorio took a deep breath, moving her hands roughly down her legs, then her calves, then her ankles, trying to ground herself and move away from the precipice of her breakdown. But instead of finding stability in her old brown Doc Martens, like she had hoped, her hand brushed a cold piece of metal, and it sent her heartbeat racing again.

She knew what it was, the feeling unmistakeable against her fingers. It was a sterling silver razor blade, years old at least, tucked into a fraying patch on her boots since November of 2018. She had played a dangerous game with it, allowing it so close; on one hand, it could become dislodged at work and she ran the risk of someone investigating her for psychological issues if they saw where it had been hiding. On the other hand, she could lose it in the field, and she would never have to worry about it, or remember the temptation, ever again.

Neither of those things had happened, apparently, and she knew from the feel of it against her fingers that, somehow, it hadn’t even been scuffed. It was the perfect deadly instrument, even after all these years. Gregorio’s hand trembled.

She hesitated for a second, but pulled the razor blade from the patch on her boot, turning it over and over in her palms like precious gold. A coil of longing hit her like a punch to the gut, and Gregorio tried to suck in a deep breath, wanted to put it back, wanted to throw it away and pretend it never existed, but she couldn’t bring herself to.

If this razor blade had somehow managed to survive three years working as a field agent for the FBI, and one as an NCIS agent, not to mention the countless parties and clubs she’d been to, it had to be a sign. Gregorio didn’t believe in fate, but maybe the gods that weren’t were trying to tell her something now.

It had been five years. It had been half of a lifetime. Part of Gregorio didn’t want to risk it, after fighting so hard to get clean in the first place, but the other, larger part of her that wanted for the quick pain of metal against her skin argued that because it had been so long, it wouldn’t matter now. A relapse wasn’t really a relapse if it only lasted a day, and if she got her act together right after. She could do this, and hide it, then throw it away the next day and no one would ever have to know.

“It’s not like last time,” Gregorio muttered to herself, trying to believe it. “I won’t let it get out of hand.”

She didn’t know if she could keep the promise to herself or not, but it didn’t matter. Her mother’s words were still burning like acid in her lungs, and she just wanted the pain to be replaced with something new, something better, until she was able to get ahold of herself. It was the best, most efficient option, and then she would stop. One cut, she told herself, and after that she would curl up in bed and watch Desperate Housewives or something. One cut, and she would be okay.

Tammy rolled up her sleeve, took a deep breath, and pressed the razor blade to her wrist.

The relief was immediate, almost as overwhelming and euphoric as a drug, and fresh tears rolled down her cheeks at the feeling. It didn’t take away her mother’s homophobia, or the way her abandonment made Tammy feel, but it replaced the worst of it with white-hot pain and the familiar sting of a fresh cut instead. Blood welled like storm clouds in the wound, and slid down her wrist until it began to drip onto her pants. Lazily, Tammy remembered she needed to do laundry and didn’t have another pair of work pants. Another, bigger part of her, however, couldn’t be bothered to care.

Instantly forgetting the one-cut promise, Tammy sliced her way through six pristine cuts before stopping to take a breath, her chest heaving with the relief of giving into the old addiction again. She didn’t remember much from three years ago, the last time she cut, but she could swear it had never felt this good before.

Looking down at her arm, a pageant of crimson lines sluggishly bleeding, Tammy felt the calm settle into her bones, numbness chasing away the pain. She exhaled hard, letting her head thump against the forgotten chair in front of her. She got what she needed. She should stop.

She didn’t.

It was close to midnight before she threw the razor blade down and stopped to admire her work. She wasn’t sure how much blood she would have to clean up, or how much she had lost, and she hadn’t eaten today either. She knew it wasn’t a good idea to just sit there after what she’d done, but her head was swimming, and she was so exhausted that even attempting to get up would have been too much for her. So, instead, Tammy rested her arms on the bloodstained slacks, and let her head loll against the back of the living chair. She had slept in worse places.

~ ~ ~

In the morning, Tammy’s alarm came blaring to life at 6am, startling her awake from where she was slumped over next to the chair. Her arms felt like they were glued to her pants, dried blood sticking to the fabric, and she could feel a telltale crustiness on the seat of her pants that meant, somehow, she had managed to sit in a puddle of blood. “God, make it stop,” she muttered, and struggled to get to her feet to turn off the fucking alarm. She couldn’t remember the last time she felt this bad.

By the time she made it to the kitchen, where her phone was at, miraculously not dead but down to the last 5% of its battery, it was almost 6:30 and she was going to be late for work if she didn’t hustle.

Tammy made it to her bedroom with less difficulty, though she still felt lightheaded, and got to work peeling the blood-soaked slacks off and painfully removing her shirt, which had a few spots of blood on it from her careless cutting the night before. She searched through her closet as fast as she could for the most lightweight long-sleeved shirt she had, that was a dark enough color to mask the blood if her cuts opened up while she was at work. After that, she selected a pair of dark jeans, even though they were against the agency dress code, and headed to the bathroom to do what she could for her appearance.

To her dismay, her eyes were still a little bloodshot from last night, and her hair was a mess. She would need makeup to cover up the circles underneath her eyes, evidence of multiple nights of restless sleep in preparation for the phone call with her mother.

The thought of her mother made Tammy’s heart seize up, and she pressed on one of the new cuts, hissing at the sharp pain it brought. It was enough to snap her out of her head, at least, and she got to work applying makeup to cover up what she could of her turmoil. Finally, she was able to run a brush through her hair, grab her gun, badge, and car keys, and head out the door.

Just before walking into the Navy Yard, Tammy hesitated, and considered calling in sick. But as tempting as it was to go back to her apartment and stay in bed all day, that wasn’t a good idea; the NCIS team was like a big fucking family, and they were sure to stop by if they got word she wasn’t feeling well. Not only was her apartment a mess, but the pool of blood by the chair in the living room, as well as the razor blade that had caused all of this damage, was still out in the open for any prying eyes to see.

Still, Tammy knew it would be hard to keep what she had done from her teammates. She would have to be on her guard. They were perceptive, even if they weren’t trained profilers like her, and much worse, they knew her. It would take all of her skills at hiding and lying and pretending to fool them into believing she was fine.

The cuts pulled tight as the fabric of her shirt shifted, making each step and movement she made towards the office painful. She had learned how to hide the pain a long time ago, but a part of her wished she had bandaged the wounds before coming in today, instead of hiding the first-aid supplies in her bag in case of an emergency and hoping for the best. But Pride was already going to kill her for being late, and it would take another fifteen minutes at least to deal with the fallout of her habit. She didn’t want to come off any more suspicious than she already was.

Taking a deep breath, Gregorio etched a smile onto her face, and walked into the NCIS office like everything was fine, as always. Nothing is different today, she warned herself, trying to drill it into her brain. Nothing has changed.

“There ya are, Gregorio! Was startin’ to wonder if we was gonna have to send out a search party,” Chris greeted her with a smile, and Gregorio gave him one of her patented bitchfaces in return.

“I got caught in traffic,” she lied, and watched his face for any signs of disbelief as she made her way to her desk. She clocked the slight raise of his eyebrows, his posture lengthening, and reminded herself to adjust her tone when she was lying.

“Didn’t think there was hardly any traffic on Bourbon Street,” Chris commented, and Tammy turned to place her bag next to her desk and start up her computer. It was easier to lie to someone when she didn’t have to face them.

“There isn’t usually,” she replied, keeping her tone light and casual. “Guess today was my lucky day.”

“Guess so,” Chris responded, and Tammy turned around just in time to see him giving her one of his famous, milliwatt smiles. She grinned back, bumping his shoulder playfully on her way into the kitchen. One down, two to go.

By the time she caught up with Pride and Sonja, it was almost midday, and the hot, humid weather prompted a picnic invite from Pride to eat lunch at the bridge in town. Chris, Sonja, and the others all agreed, leaving Gregorio as the odd one out. She knew she couldn’t decline without offering an explanation, lest they become suspicious of her motives, but she couldn’t accept the invitation when she knew either Chris or Sonja would try to roll up her sleeves the second they arrived, either to tease her or out of care for her wellbeing. Refusing their help against potential heatstroke when it was summer in the middle of New Orleans was a one-way ticket to having her secret revealed.

“Tammy, you’re not going to lunch with us?” Percy pouted, her eyebrows drawn up in that Percy way, that said she was more concerned than disappointed, but was too proud to put voice to her feelings. “Come on, don’t you want to hang with the gang?”

“As much as I would love to ‘hang with the gang’,” Gregorio used air quotes and gave Sonja a playful smirk, “I have a prior obligation.”

“Oooh, someone’s got a hot date,” Chris said, walking into the kitchen with an ice chest for their drinks. “So who is it, Gregorio? Black-haired beauty? Feisty redhead? That’s my type.”

“Excuse you,” Percy retorted, raising her eyebrow in his direction.

“Pardon me,” Chris corrected, giving Sonja a fond smile, “That’s usually my type.”

“Better,” Sonja affirmed, before turning her attention to Gregorio once more. “But seriously, T, where you goin’ that you can’t come hang with us?”

“Well, Chris wasn’t exactly wrong,” Gregorio replied, lifting her coffee mug to her lips to take a sip so she could avoid having to look either of them in the eyes. “A certain mayor’s secretary asked me out the other day, and I can’t leave her hanging a second time.” Though it was a lie that they had a lunch date, it wasn’t a lie that she’d been asked out, so Gregorio didn’t feel as bad as she maybe should for using Amber as her scapegoat.

“With that one, you better not,” Chris replied, chuckling. “I’ve heard she’s got some high standards.”

“Of course she does,” Gregorio retorted without missing a beat. “She’s going on a date with me, isn’t she?”

Sonja and Chris both laughed at that, the latter ribbing her good-naturedly for a minute or two before they calmed down. She allowed her smirk to play on her lips, knowing she could pass it off as satisfaction at her joke instead of her lie. They weren’t suspicious of her anymore, not after she’d thrown them a bone. For now, she was safe.

~ ~ ~

Later that night, when the team was getting ready to wrap up and head home, Pride caught her eye, gesturing her into the kitchen. Tammy dropped her bag and took a deep breath, heading in to meet him. She could feel her heart skip a beat.

Of all of them, Pride was the most likely to figure out that something was wrong, even if he was the least likely to react with anything other than kind, calm patience. Still, the idea of her boss finding out her most guarded secret was more terrifying than she could fathom.

Without speaking or otherwise acknowledging Pride, Gregorio took a seat on the barstool across from him, crossed her arms, and waited. She could feel her heart pounding in her throat, but forced herself to be motionless and keep her expression blank, lest she give away the anxiety she was feeling.

“So, Gregorio,” Pride said, taking in her position and folding his arms across the top of the bar, “Want to tell me what’s going on with you?”

“Nothing,” Gregorio replied defensively, before she could stop herself and try to temper her tone. “What makes you think something’s going on?”

Pride raised an eyebrow at her, unimpressed. “Well, for starters, you came in late today, said it was traffic when traffic is nonexistent on your street, you’re actin’ awful odd, and then you lied to Christopher and Sonja about who you were with for lunch today.”

Gregorio opened her mouth to protest, but before she could, Pride held up his hand and continued, “I have it on good authority that the mayor’s secretary didn’t leave her office all day.” He softened, giving her a worried look, and said, “Just want to know you’re okay, and if anything’s goin’ on that we can help with.”

“It’s nothing,” Gregorio sighed, letting her shoulders slump in defeat. There was no use pretending she was fine if Pride already knew something was up. She didn’t have to tell him everything, but maybe if she told him about her mom, at least, he’d leave her alone.

“Just a little upset from a phone call with my mother yesterday,” Gregorio admitted, picking at her nails to avoid meeting Pride’s eyes. “I came out to her.”

Pride nodded, his eyes filling with support and kindness for her, and moved to wipe down the kitchen counter, in an effort to give her space to talk as much as she wanted to. Gregorio knew the tactic, was familiar with it from teasing the truth out of LaSalle when he was being particularly stubborn. Though she was loathe to admit it, she appreciated it. “How did she take it?”

“Not well,” Tammy sighed, pressing her nail into the pad of her thumb to resist the urge to burst into tears again. She had already done enough crying in the past 24 hours. “She basically gave me an ultimatum; stop being gay, or stop coming home. Permanently.”

“Oh, Tammy,” Pride breathed, sympathy pouring out of him and into her. “I’m so sorry.” He reached across the bar to lay a hand on her shoulder, and against her will, Tammy leaned into the touch.

“It’s okay,” she murmured, closing her eyes to avoid letting Pride see how glossy they had become. “W-We were never really close.”

“Still, that’s gotta hurt,” Pride said, withdrawing just enough to allow her time to fight back the tears and open her eyes once more. “Parents’ rejection is…one of the worst things that can happen to a child. No matter how old they are.”

“Yeah,” Tammy breathed, the weight of her own exhaustion hitting her as she slumped on the barstool. She couldn’t remember the last time she had let something damage her like this. Who knew her mother’s decision would have such an impact on her? She sighed and tugged lightly on one of her sleeves, until it was down far enough on her arm to cover her fingers. Pride caught the movement, but said nothing. “To make matters worse, she tried to frame it like she loved me, and she was going to be there for me.” Tammy laughed bitterly, emotion swelling up in her throat. “She’s so convinced I’m going to change, Pride.”

“Not the way it works,” Pride said fondly, giving her a warm smile. His hand, still on her shoulder, was like a grounding wire, keeping her settled, and she felt like she was being comforted by the father she never had.

“Yeah,” Tammy said, again, and her voice wobbled on the last syllable. Under Pride’s kind, supportive words and gentle ministrations, she could feel the dam in her chest threatening to explode, and she slid sideways off of the barstool, grabbing for her coat and heading towards the door. She had to get out of here, before she lost it completely. “Anyway, I should go - ”

“Wait,” Pride called, and moved to follow her, grabbing her wrist to stop her from leaving. Without thinking, still trying to calm the tidal wave of emotion in her chest, Gregorio hissed in pain.

“Tammy,” Pride said slowly, releasing her wrist with some reluctance, “There something wrong with your arm?”

“Ah, it’s nothing,” Tammy replied, giving him a quick, panicked smile. “Just bruised it on the countertop when I was getting ready for work this morning.”

“That so?” Pride asked, and he sounded suspicious enough to make Tammy’s heart skip a beat in fear. She curled her fingers around her sleeves protectively. “Mind if I take a look at it?”

“Don’t bother,” Gregorio replied, trying to keep the panic out of her voice. “I told you, Pride, it’s nothing.”

“Didn’t sound like nothing,” Pride replied, and he reached for her wrist again. Determined not to give anything away, Tammy kept her face purposefully blank, allowing him to hold her arm in his hand even as his fingers pressing against the cuts felt like a sharp knife against her skin. “Thing is, Tammy…” Pride moved to grasp her sleeve, and Gregorio’s entire body tensed, waiting for his next move. This was not happening.

“You haven’t worn long sleeves this dark, especially during summer, all year,” he continued, “and that first time we talked, up on the balcony in your hotel when you first came here – you wore a tank top, and I don’t think you thought about it then, but I noticed something the others didn’t get the chance to see.” He lifted his gaze to meet Gregorio’s eyes, and she knew, without having to ask what he meant, that she was done for.

Pride knows.

“I’ve seen the scars on your wrists, Tammy,” Pride said softly, “And I’ve never mentioned it, because it’s not my business and I don’t want you to think I’m judging you for it. But if your arm is hurt…after all you’ve been through in the past few days, you understand why I need to check, right?”

Tammy nodded tightly, trying not to cry, as Pride moved to roll up her sleeve. At the last second, just before he could grab the cuff of her shirt, she blurted out: “And what do you think you’ll find, if you check?”

“I think you and I both know the answer to that,” Pride responded, his voice as kind and understanding as ever. Tammy choked on a sob, losing the battle against her emotions, and pulled away from him, running her hands through her hair so hard that she was sure she’d left red, inflamed scratches on her scalp. She heaved a deep breath and choked on it, trying to hold in the breakdown that wanted to happen, fighting to remain in control. Pride couldn’t see her like this. No one could.

“Just - Just please don’t demote me,” Tammy begged, straightening up and gasping for breath, wiping her sweaty palms on her jeans. “D-Don’t put me on desk duty. I can still handle myself in the field, I promise I’m not a liability, Pride.”

“We’ll talk about that later,” Pride said, and her heart sank. “For now, we need to get you taken care of.” He glanced at his watch, and muttered, “Loretta might still be here, I’d have to check the morgue.”

“No – please,” Gregorio pleaded, embarrassment creeping up to settle like fire on her cheeks. “No one else needs to know about this.”

“They do, Tammy,” Pride argued, raising his eyebrows at her. “They’re your teammates. Your family. They care about you. Of course they should know about this.”

“Please,” Tammy said, raising her arms to hug herself, trying to get some semblance of comfort in the least embarrassing or incriminating way possible.

“Look,” Pride said, gesturing for her to sit down across from him in the kitchen once more, taking a seat opposite her on the island, “I know you’re scared. You’re worried about what the others might think. But they love you, Tammy, and they want to help you. I do too.”

“What if they hate me?” Tammy breathed, fresh tears welling up in her eyes. She knew she looked like a wreck, pathetic even, but this was her worst nightmare come true and she couldn’t pretend anymore. “Pride, I’m weak.” She gestured haphazardly at her arms, at herself, and shook her head, avoiding his gaze by staring down the marble kitchen tile. “They’ll see me differently.”

“Maybe so,” Pride conceded, “but not in the way you think. They won’t consider you weak, Tammy. I don’t.” He reached out to lay his hand on her arm, comforting and grounding her with the touch. “You’re one of the strongest people I know, Gregorio.”

“Even now that you know I - ” Tammy gestured to her arms once more, at a loss for words. “ - Again?”

“Even now,” Pride confirmed, giving her a firm nod and a steady look that swore honesty. “Tammy, no one on this team will think any less of you for struggling with this.”

“Promise?” Tammy whispered, letting some of the vulnerability she was feeling slip into her voice as she asked the question.

“Promise,” Pride affirmed, and gave her arm a soft, gentle pat.

Gregorio nodded, her shoulders slumping in relief as some of the tension was alleviated. “Do you have to tell them tonight?”

“No, not tonight,” Pride responded. “But soon.”

“I understand.” Gregorio looked away, the fear thundering back to life in her chest. For an instant, under Pride’s reassuring words, it had disappeared.

“It’s gonna be okay, Gregorio,” Pride promised her, moving from the opposite side of the bar to wrap her in a tight hug. “The team’ll take care of you.”

“Shouldn’t have to,” Gregorio protested weakly, but Pride shushed her with a hand in her hair, stroking gently.

“We want to,” he said, and Gregorio was struck with how much she wished he could have been her real dad. Maybe her future would’ve turned out better if he was. “This is somethin’ that everyone is more ‘n willin’ to help you with. We’re gonna get it taken care of. Got your back, Tammy, not just for work.”

“Thanks, Pride,” Gregorio whispered, too emotional to express her gratitude any further. She was sure Pride understood. In his arms, trembling, Gregorio could admit that maybe what she had really needed was the support and acceptance of her loved ones. Maybe her mother would never love her the way she was, but she had an entire family here in New Orleans that did.

Maybe that was what mattered.

And if, the next day, when Loretta called her down to the morgue and told Gregorio about her mother’s issues with self-harm while she bandaged the fresh cuts on Tammy’s arms, she felt a small piece of her heart begin to heal, she didn’t mention it. And if, when Sebastian gave her a hug and a kiss on the cheek and offered to call her and ramble about whatever came to mind when she was having urges, she started to tear up, well, no one could prove it (she had threatened Sebastian with removing his Power Rangers collection from the lab if he told anyone). And if, when Chris said nothing but drew her into the tightest hug she could ever remember receiving, and Percy showed up at her house without warning to sit on the couch with her and watch basketball, she began to realise this was all the family she needed, she knew she could blame Pride for most of it.

Getting clean again, and resisting the urge to take a blade to her arms whenever she felt like her world was falling apart, was a fight that took months, and she did end up on desk duty for some of it, but despite the silence that stretched between her and her mother, she found that the most important thing was the family that she had right here.

Maybe she didn’t need what used to be her home when she had a better one here in New Orleans.

#bad things happen bingo #prompt fill #my writing #my work #my fanfiction #my fanfic #my fics #ncis new orleans #ncis nola #tammy gregorio #dwayne pride #sonja percy #chris lasalle #fanfiction #fics #warning: self harm #warning: blood #warning: homophobia #warning: being disowned

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bullet-prooflove · 2 months ago

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Kinktober 24 Bingo Card Complete!

All Kinktober fics are now done and scheduled!

As usual these will be posted for early release on Patreon!

See below for Tumblr release dates and blurbs:

1st Oct - Everything You Need - Mike McLusky - Things get rough between you and Mike when the both of you struggle to commit. (Bingo Square: Rough Sex)

2nd - Into The Woods - Jack Dayton - Jack plays into one of your fantasies out in the woods. (Bingo Square: Predator/Prey)

3rd - Marks - Ryan Yellowstone - The marks you leave on Ryan's skin result in a relationship change. (Bingo Square: Marks) - Fluff piece

4th: Punishment - Terry Silver - Terry decides to punish you when you get a little mischevious. (Bingo Square: Impact Play)

5th - Full - Nick Torres - You tell Nick a fantasy of yours that results in you being filled. (Bingo Square: Sex Toys)

6th: Worship At Your Alter - Chibs - Chibs offers to get down on his knees when he realises you've never experianced oral. (Bingo Square: Show Me How You Like It)

7th - Sheet Music - Dwayne Pride - Dwayne and you have your own sweet song. (Bingo Square: Nipple Play)

8th - Pretty As A Picture - Will LaMontagne - You look pretty as a picture laid out across Will's bed. (Bingo Square: Temperature Play)

9th - Mood - Duke Crocker - Duke gets into a dark mood when he sees you with another man. (Bingo Square: Choking)

10th - Always - Dean Winchester - A naughty act leads Dean to get a little needy. (Bingo Square: Anal)

11th - Rhinestones - Mitch Keller - Mitch recounts his first time with Miss Oklahoma 2014. (Bingo Square: Wild Card)

12th - Paradise - Chef Luca - Making love to you has always been a spiritual experiance. (Bingo Square: Public Sex)

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rosemary-writes · 1 year ago

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Light my fire

David x gender neutral! Reader

A/N: hey babes, eat up. I got another David fic cooking

David had never felt this way before. Of course there were numerous times where he saw a person on the boardwalk and wanted them, but no one ever made him flustered the way you did.

It all started one night when the summer was starting to end. The boardwalk was extremely packed with people trying to live it up or bring their families on vacation before August rolled around. David and the boys were at their usual spot. Scoping the sea of faces around them had become second nature at this point with how often they did it when they didn’t have much to talk about.

Paul and Marko were idly chatting about the many different people who they wanted to “have fun” with. Dwayne had left with Laddie earlier to go play some games much to Davids chagrin.

He just didn’t feel content in the moment to sit and stare at the many gawkers that passed him by. So, he parked his bike and pulled out a cigarette.

“I’m going for a walk, keep an eye out will ya?” He said, motioning towards his bike. Marko and Paul replied quickly before going back to their conversation. In the blink of an eye, David had dived into the sea of people, completely submerging himself in it.

He wandered around for a bit, not really going in a specific direction. He looked at the crowd around him and noticed a few new pop up shops that hadn’t been there in the past few days. He waltzed over to what looked like a small jewlery store and just looked. The jewlery was silver macabre creations. Skeletons, knives, ruby for blood, and a necklace that mimicked a vampire bite. He smirked and let out a chuckle at the jewlery. It looked tacky to him.

Deciding he had seen enough, he turned and walked away from the odd trinkets. He paused for a moment, grabbing the cigarette that was behind his ear. He put it in his mouth and searched for his lighter. He checked his pants but it wasnt there. Odd, he never really misplaced it. After checking his coat pockets, he realized he didn’t have his lighter at all. Damn, he really wanted a smoke right now.

“Need a light cowboy?” a voice asked with the click of a lighter.

David turned and looked at the owner of the voice and was met with you. He was taken aback by your frame and kind face.

“Cowboy?” He asked quietly.

“Well, you’ve got spurs on your boots. I figured you must be a cowboy.” you responded, holding out your lighter to light his cigarette.

No one had ever lit Davids cigarettes before. Not even one of the boys.

David pause and when you took your lighter away, once you deemed the cigarette lit, he took a drag of it and stared at you.

You had a kind smile on your face and David could tell it was genuine. If he could blush, he would be doing so right now.

“Well, I’m not a cowboy anymore.” David said with a smirk, eyeing you up and down.

You must’ve taken notice that he was eyeing you because you blushed and David felt pride in making you blush.

“Whats your name? I don’t think I’ve seen you around the town before.” David asked, taking another drag of his cigarette, the smoke swirling around the two of you.

You gave him your name and he played with it in his head.

“Nice name.” He responded.

“Whats yours?” You asked, a glimmer of curiosity in your eyes.

“David.” He answered a little coldly.

You didn’t seem taken aback by his cold demeanor. In fact, it seemed to make you more drawn to him. Abruptly, a group of people walked out of the store that you two were standing next to.

“Hey! There you are, we were getting worried” a short woman said, coming up to you with a few bags draped on her arms.

He continued to smoke as you smiled and turned your attention towards the group of people. It irked him a little bit to no longer be what drew your attention.

David realized these people must’ve been your friend group and you didn’t go with them into the other shops. He observed you as you spoke with your friends and discussed what to do with them. He tossed his cigarette on the ground and stomped it out as you turned back to him.

“Sorry about that David.” You said, offering an apologetic smile. David smiled in return.

“Don’t worry about it.” He replied, putting his hands in his coat pockets.

“We’re uh, we’re about to leave the boardwalk. Will I see you again?” You asked, hope lacing your voice.

David grinned down at your frame, “If you come back to the boardwalk then yeah, you will see me again.”

“Alright then. I'll see you later cowboy.” You said, turning away from him and walking away with your group of friends.

David stood there and watched you as you walked away, never taking his eyes off of you as you disappeared into the night.

He wanted to follow you and take your hand and show you the night time world. David had never felt so flustered over a human before. He just had to have you

#the lost boys imagines #the lost boys x reader #rosemary writes #the lost boys 1987 #david the lost boys x reader #david x reader #david tlb

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britany1997 · 2 years ago

Note

Hey bestieeeee! You know I had to jump on requests again (if you're open to this one, of course)! I would personally love a part 3 to creature comfort. Maybe Dwayne going into Daddy Dom mode for David and the reader for a threesome. No pressure, I just really loved that fic and part 2 of it 🥰

Supersymmetry

Omg of course friend!! Happy to write this for you! I’m glad you love this series🥰 in keeping with my trend of naming fics in this series after Arcade Fire songs, this is my absolute favorite AF song:) This and Everything Now are hardcore smut PLEASE READ ALL THE WARNINGS

Creature comfort, Everything Now

Dwayne x GN Reader x David (Poly lost boys)

Warnings: SMUT minors DNI, Dom Dwayne, Switch David, Sub Reader, Daddy Kink (Dwayne is daddy always), a little bit of brattaming, BDSMish dynamics, bondage, penetration (reader’s sex not mentioned), riding, spit roasting, blow job, spitting, aftercare cuddles🥺 I think that’s everything

🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇

Dwayne laid David on his bed softly, “one more thing before we start,” Dwayne said with a sly look on his face “Who’s your daddy.”

David propped himself up on his elbow, before grabbing the back of Dwayne’s neck and pulling him in for a kiss. “You are.”

Dwayne smirked, “and don’t you ever forget it.”

You had been approaching the doorway of Dwayne’s alcove in the cave when you overheard the boys talking.

You gasped as you creeped around to stand next to the entrance, careful not to set off either David or Dwayne’s vampire senses.

You peeked carefully into Dwayne’s room, only to be met with his eyes staring into yours. “Hi,” he said casually.

You jumped back, clutching your chest in shock.

“You’re not as quiet as you think you are,” he chuckled softly.

“Apparently,” you rolled your eyes before smiling sheepishly, “can I join?” You asked.

Dwayne crossed his arms and looked you up and down, “you got thrown from a bike tonight,” he reminded you, “sure you’re up for this?”

Your smile morphed into a pout as you stepped closer to him, “but daddy, I want you,” you purred.

He growled, “baby I always want you, I just want to make sure your ok. Are you sure you want to play rough tonight?”

You offered him a reassuring grin, “I’m ok Dwayne, really, I would tell you if I couldn’t take it,” you leaned forward to kiss his cheek, “I want you to go full daddy on me, c’mon don’t you wanna teach me a lesson or something?” you teased.

Dwayne raised an eyebrow, “what do you say when you need to stop?” He asked seriously.

“Bats,” you responded.

“That’s right baby,” he caressed your cheek gently, “don’t be afraid to use it if it gets too much yeah?”

“Yes daddy,” you winked.

Dwayne smiled as he threw you over his shoulder before laying you in his bed next to David, whose eyes were still glazed over.

“You wanna watch first or you wanna play first baby?” Dwayne asked.

You pretended to contemplate his question, “isn’t Davey still in trouble? Shouldn’t he watch first,” you reminded Dwayne innocently.

David growled at you. You stuck your tongue out at him.

Dwayne took your jaw in his hand and turned your face towards him, his eyebrow raised. “Bratting around already? Keep it up and it’ll be a long night for you,” he warned.

“God I hope so daddy,” you replied.

His persona slipped as his lips turned up in a prideful smile. He pressed a kiss to your lips before moving to David.

Dwayne grabbed the belt he’d used to leash David and folded it into a pair of makeshift handcuffs. “Wrists,” he commanded David.

David, having fully regained his wits, raised an eyebrow at Dwayne’s creation as he crossed his arms, “yeah, fat chance,” David scoffed.

Dwayne kneeled on the bed between David’s legs and grabbed his jaw, holding his mouth open. Dwayne spit directly into David’s mouth.

David pulled back gasping but swallowed. Your jaw dropped.

Dwayne tsked, “thought you were gonna be a good boy Davey,” he sighed, “if not that’s fine, I have no problem disciplining you again, but if you want a chance to cum tonight you’re gonna be good for daddy ok?”

David’s defiant expression shifted, “yes daddy,” he replied as he held his wrists out to Dwayne.

Dwayne slipped the make shift cuffs around David’s wrists and fastened them tightly. He pulled on the tail of the belt, leading David to a chair in the corner.

As you watched him sit you could tell David was not happy about having to watch Dwayne wreck you first.

Dwayne strode back over to where you were kneeling on the bed, “I can still be gentle if you want baby just say the word,” he offered as he stroked your cheek lovingly, “it’s been a long night, you don’t have to do this for me.”

You rolled your eyes, Dwayne was sweet but he was starting to get on your nerves, “I don’t want gentle Dwayne, I want my daddy please” you clarified impatiently, “if I need to stop I’ll tell you, promise,” you kissed his nose.

He smiled, and leaned in to press his lips to yours, “ok baby,” he said as he began to undress you and himself, “you wanna ride daddy then?”

“Yes please,” you sighed wistfully as he manhandled you till you were hovering over him.

You reached down to place your thumb on the tip of his cock and give it a few gentle strokes.

Dwayne squeezed your thigh while looking at you sternly, “did I give you permission to use your hands?”

Your face flushed red and you sputtered, “I- I’m sorry daddy, I just wanted you to feel good” you pouted.

Dwayne reached over to his bedside table to rummage through the drawer, you still hovering above him. “I know baby, that’s why I’m not going to punish you,” he pulled out a pair of cuffs, “but we are gonna have to do something about your greedy little hands.” He clipped the cuffs in place, restraining your hands behind your back.

You pouted.

Dwayne raised an eyebrow, “what do you say?”

“Thank you daddy,” you told him as he took your hips in his hands and lowered you onto his cock.

You gasped as he pushed into you with slow and gentle strokes, allowing you to get used to him.

No matter how rough he got, he always started slow, his massive size splitting you open every time.

You placed your hands on his shoulders and leaned forward as he began to speed up, pulling moan after moan from your lips.

“So good for me baby, not an ounce of brat in you when I take you like this huh?” Dwayne whispered into your ear as he wrecked you.

David struggled against his restraints, forgotten in the corner and dying to get a taste of you as well.

Dwayne smirked as he heard movement coming from the chair he’d left his other lover tied up in. His lips ghosted against the shell of your ear as he thrust into you mercilessly, “let Davey watch you come undone on daddy’s cock,” he whispered as he stroked you, “can you cum for daddy?”

His words sent you over the edge as you let out one final moan, releasing all over him.

Dwayne kissed your forehead as you struggled to catch your breath, his length still inside you.

He brushed sweat covered hair back from your face as he maneuvered you gently till you were laying on the bed. He stroked your cheek as he looked over at David, who was straining in his boxers and biting his lip, makeshift cuffs still fastened around his wrists. Dwayne turned back to you, “you think David’s earned some time with you baby?”

You looked over at David whose eyes pleaded with you. You smiled, “yes daddy, I can keep going.” Dwayne returned your smile before moving in front of David, who looked like his fangs were going to sink directly into his lip and split it open.

Dwayne pulled off the belt cuffs and bent down to whisper in David’s ear, “don’t think this means you don’t have to listen, I won’t hesitate to spank you in front of them.” David gulped and nodded.

“Good,” Dwayne jerked his head in your direction, “don’t keep them waiting.”

David rushed over you and you sat up to greet him. He placed his hand on the back of your head and pulled you into a passionate kiss. As you returned his kiss, he reached around to take off your cuffs. “Want you to use these hands baby,” he purred as he rubbed his fingers in circles around your hips.

Dwayne leaned against the wall and watched with arms crossed.

David nosed at the pulse point on your neck, making you shudder. He chuckled softly to himself, “not gonna drink, just like the way you smell,” you sighed happily at his words.

He pulled back to stroke your face softly, “do you want just me or both of us?” David asked, still rubbing your hips.

“Both please,” you begged.

David smiled before looking to Dwayne as he pushed off the wall and walked over. “Please what?” David asked.

You bit your lip, “please sir.”

He kissed your forehead, “good baby.”

David turned to Dwayne, “can I take their mouth?” he asked.

Dwayne nodded, “go ahead.”

David took himself in his hands as you got on your hands and knees in front of him, “I got it,” you told him as you wrapped your hand around him and stroked gently.

You licked the tip of his cock causing a groan to fall from his lips. His fingers threaded through your hair as he pulled you forward impatiently.

You laughed as you took him into your mouth and began to suck, hollowing out your cheeks as moans fell from his lips.

You felt Dwayne pull your thighs back towards him from the other side of the bed, “ready baby?” He asked as he grazed his hands over your ass.

“Mhmm,” you hummed, your mouth full of David.

Dwayne pushed into you slowly, inching you further onto David as a result. The three of you let out a collective moan.

You rubbed your tongue along the underside of David’s cock as Dwayne fell into a rhythm behind you.

Every thrust sent David deeper down your throat.

David’s hands flew to the back of his head as his face twisted in pleasure while you moaned around him.

They were both so big and you felt so full. If you didn’t know any better you’d swear their tips were touching inside you.

As you felt your orgasm building you began to whimper. David looked to Dwayne, “shit me too,” he groaned, “can we cum daddy?” David asked.

Dwayne moaned, “yes baby, go ahead.”

Your orgasm washed over you as David came down your throat.

Dwayne thrust into you once more triggering his own orgasm and filling you completely.

David pulled himself from your mouth gently and collapsed on the bed.

Dwayne pulled out as well and placed you in his lap. He kissed your neck and held you tightly against his chest.

He stroked David’s hair with the hand not wrapped around your waist.

Dwayne nibbled your earlobe, “did you have fun?” he asked.

You smiled, “of course, as always.”

David propped himself up on his elbows, “I’m sorry I yelled in front of you baby, I was too harsh with Paul and I didn’t mean to scare you.”

You leaned over to kiss his cheek before Dwayne pulled you back into his arms, “it’s ok,” you assured him, “I know you just did it because you were worried about me and I know you won’t do it again.”

David smiled, “thank you baby.”

“I love you, all of you,” you promised them.

Dwayne tightened his embrace, “we love you too.” he replied as he peppered soft kisses all along your neck and shoulder.

🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇

Taglist❤️:

@misslavenderlady @pixielostboy @ghoulgeousimmaculate @6lostgirl6 @solobagginses @anna1306 @its-freaking-bats @riz-coolgirl @feardot-com @warrior-616 @sidefanficaccounttohidemyshame @flower-crowned-lady @bloodywickedvamp @dwaynesluscioushair @dwayxluvs @consuming-karma @vampirefilmlover @lostboys1987girl @cherryfrostbites

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floofefolf · 9 months ago

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Lucifer X Dwayne the rock Johnson - a short fic

It was a warm day in hell. Like any ol’ day, huh. It was bright in the pride ring. Maybe dark in other rings. It's like countries, they have different climates. Gluttony is usually warm and filled with party. Lust is usually cold, full of sex, horny demons, and potentially weird ass shit. Envy and greed well, they were exactly what you'd expect from places called envy and greed. That's all that can be said.

Back to the “premise” of this whole thing. If there even was one. Lucifer. He was in his mansion. The Morningstar mansion, Perhaps? It has a nice ring to it. I'd personally want to stay in a place called the Morningstar mansion, idk ABT you though. I'd say magne mansion but, lucifer is no longer magne. It's Morningstar now, heh. Magne is like a dead name ngl. Except he was now never called magne. It's always been Morningstar.

Lucifer sat there. In his “throne room”, filled with rubber ducks. Filled with atmosphere. Ecstasy, maybe. Because rubber ducks fill him with such a lovely thing. Not the horny version though. Only his wife commence that. But there was a particular reason as to *why* he was sat down. At this moment. He was in his usual day to day outfit, of course. But something was out of the ordinary. Something very unusual.

You see, under his outfit, he had on another. One out of the ordinary indeed. One embarrassing. and this outfit, was the premise here. He is rethinking his life choices indeed. Wondering, what possessed him to wear such an outfit? Why did he wear this? Because he thought it was a good thing to order off of Amazon. Now he's kindof obsessed with this catboy look. How good.

Not good.

He is worried. Anxious if you will. Why? Because he fears one thing. One thing only. And that is, the fact that the manliest man in the history of men, will not see Lucifer Morningstar as a man. That is, fear. True fear. Who is the manliest man in the history of men, you may be potentially questioning?... Well- the answer is obvious. It's oh so obvious

** **

Dwayne.

Dwayne the rock Johnson. The most manly man in the history of men. Hes so manly that the pancake he devours grows six packs. How charming.. he's Lucifers idol. But he's also holding Lucifer back from his full potential. Lucifer worries too much about his opinion. His opinion on how he dresses n allat.

He's been holding him back ever since lucifers most recent true love - big bird. The only thing holding him back from going full femboy mode on him, is Dwayne the rock Johnson. He thinks about his opinions on this all too much. It eats away at his brain, tbh. And why? Because he wonders, if he let out his full femboy bottom persona, would Dwayne the rock Johnson come down and smash him, in the non sexual way? Smash him into the floor until he dies, then take the crown for himself? Who knows.

Lucifer wishes he did.

**”I'm truly sorry Dwayne the rock Johnson.”**

** **

He sadly said as he looked to the ground. He wasn't trying to be quiet. No, he was just trying to let out his sadness. He was sorry for failing his idol by becoming an absolute femboy. He was sorry for everything like Marcy Wu was sorry for sending her friends to a frog land and kinda being a bitch. Yeah, Lucifer is an amphibia fan, whatchu gon do ABT it??

**”Even when I fell from heaven, I knew I'd find a heaven down here… and being a femboy, that's my heaven.”**

It was like he was saying a ritual. As he was now outside his mansion, down on his knees, his hands clasped together, in a Christian praise pose. He didn't know any other. He used to be a Christian when he was in heaven. Tbh, was he heaven born? Prolly. And he was a damn good angel. But he's also a damn good angel in bed. So yeah what's your point…. He is an ultimate bottom, and hell even a rizz lord.

** **

**”And so, dressing as a catboy isn't a sin. It's manly. It can be manly. Aand if you praise Satan, know he's a peace of shit. Sorry it was obligatory to add…”**

He snickered at the thought of Satan hearing. That would be funny. But lucifer is indeed praying in hell. Kindof??? He was trying to communicate to Dwayne the rock Johnson. Something no one has ever tried. Why? Who knows. Maybe they a pussy idk bro. Dwayne down here is probably reffered to as Dwayne the cock Johnson.

Lucifer then got up and cleaned the dust from his pants. Then ripped off his clothes. Revealing the ultimate catboy outfit … thigh high socks; a skirt, a crop top hoodie, arm warmers, a choker, an catboy ears. Tis who he is… and if Dwayne the rock Johnson doesn't accept him, no one will. He also wants Markipliers approval, but that's a story for another day.

He walked into his mansion, sat back down, took a photo, and posted it to sinstagram. He is accepting his identity tbh….. good for him. He then Lowkey fell asleep. Great. He sure does hope Dwayne the rock Johnson receives his message. Otherwise it was all pointless. Stripping in public, praying as the king in public….. let's hope it went to good use. If it didn't, that's no good.

#fun #art #hazbin hotel #hazbin art #hazbin lucifer #lucifer morningstar #fanfic

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cinnikiroll · 4 months ago

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the unspeakable secret (dwayne pride x reader)

Summary: When Dwayne and the reader get married for an undercover case, the reader questions whether Dwayne loves them or not. When something terrible happens, Dwayne realizes his mistake.

Word Count: 1,814 words

Trigger Warnings: Blood and injury

If you like this fic, please do check out my other fanfics on AO3 under the username cinnikiroll. Here is a link to my profile, where I have fics from other shows for your viewing pleasure!

This fic was a request! If you want to make requests for fics, you can either do it in my asks here or in comments of any of my fics here or on AO3. Thank you to the lovely human that requested this, I hope it is to your liking! ❤️

It was hard to be a wife.

You had already known that, but you underestimated just how hard being one would be, especially when your husband didn't love you back.

Although it was hard to blame him for his lack of love. The two of you were just meant to be married for an undercover mission. It wasn't supposed to be official at all, and you were meant to break up and never speak of it again the moment the mission was over.

But, unfortunately, there was a mistake with the registrar's office, and now you were officially filed as a married couple.

At first, you had been in denial over it. Surely this had to be a joke, right? There was no way that such a great mistake could have occurred. Dwayne was just trying to play around with you, trying to make the typical fear you felt during an undercover operation disappear.

But when the realization set in, you were rather pleased.

You'd never admit it, but you had a crush on Dwayne ever since your first day at the New Orleans field office. His deep baritone voice, easy smile, and fatherly demeanor brought comfort to your heart, even on your hardest days.

Denying those feelings were useless. They were evident in every atom of your body, every breath you drew into your lungs, filling the air around you with the sweetness of love.

But being Dwayne's wife?!

Now, there was a dream you never thought could be fulfilled until now.

When the two of you returned home from the undercover operation, the team constantly teased you over your newly created bond. Percy bought you matching tumblers, LaSalle saved you in his contacts with Pride as your surname, and Sebastian exclusively called you, 'Dwayne's spouse'. It was irritating at first, but it became endearing in a sense after a while.

You had never really lived in a great apartment all your many years in New Orleans. The one you lived in currently was moldy, with peeling wallpaper and neighbors that would constantly have fights with one another seemingly uncaring of the early hour during which they were having their rather loud altercations.

Dwayne, out of the kindness of his heart, offered you a room in his apartment above the Trutone free of charge. At first you were hesitant to take it, not wanting to infringe on his already limited space, but after he made a joke that, "It's the least a husband could do," you begrudgingly accepted.

Living with him was good, at first. The two of you didn't disturb each other's lives at all, even though you woke up at similar times and had to share things like a closet, one chest of drawers, and the bathroom- which was a hard commodity to learn to share.

But then, time passed, and your relationship remained stagnant. The inaction Dwayne took to show any kind of affection towards you, despite the two of you being married, irritated you greatly. You tried to express your emotions to him, to tell him that you craved more affection than he most likely could ever show you, but every time the two of you got somewhere in your conversation, one of you was summoned back to the office for a case.

One night, the two of you were sitting at the dinner table, eating a very pleasantly spiced jambalaya, when you decided to bring up the topic of your relationship again.

"Dwayne?"

You murmured in a soft voice, noticing that he looked deep in thought.

Your hand unconsciously moved closer to his, trying to link together, but he jerked away from your touch as if burned. When he spoke, his voice was rough and husky with unspoken emotions, a sign that something was definitely on his mind.

"Yes, darlin'?"

Darlin'. You call me that, yet you never show me any evidence that you truly love me. You're just a liar...

You thought bitterly, trying not to let your anger show.

"We need to talk about us. About this relationship."

Your firm tone caused Dwayne's brow to furrow in concern. His hand, which had previously moved away from yours, now grasped yours tightly, stroking your knuckles slowly with the pad of his thumb.

"What's wrong with us?"

He asked, genuinely sounding concerned.

"You never-"

Your explanation was cut off by your ringing phone. Sighing deeply, you pulled it out of your pocket and answered, knowing already who had called you and where you needed to go.

While still on the phone with LaSalle, you grabbed your sweater and car keys, looking back at Dwayne sadly.

Guess tonight's not the right time either.

You thought somewhat angrily as you left for the NCIS office.

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

Dwayne awoke from a rather restless nap with a burning headache and the distinct sense that something was terribly wrong.

Upon completely examining the whole apartment three times to find no problems, he still couldn't banish the feeling of dread that was swimming around in his gut like an extremely tenacious fish.

Distracted by worries of what this feeling could mean, he didn't expect his phone to suddenly ring. The loud sound made him jump out of his skin, but he quickly recovered, rushing over to his bedside table to grab his phone and answer it.

"Dwayne..."

Your voice was speaking on the other end, but something was clearly wrong with you. You never sounded that quiet before... and was that a moan of pain he could hear?!

"Darlin'?! It's four thirty in the morning! Where are you?"

Dwayne tried to keep the overwhelming feeling of panic that was suddenly flowing through him out of his voice, but it was hard. Hearing you so weak, clearly injured... it triggered feelings in him he didn't know he had.

Well, he admitted begrudgingly, I knew I loved them since the first day we met. I was just too shy to admit it...

As he dwelled more and more on his unspoken love for you, a realization came to him that stopped his heart for a moment. He froze, overcome with sorrow, and the waves of panic threatened to drown him.

What if he could never express his love?

What if you were dying, out somewhere in the cold city, alone, without him by your side?

What if you breathed your last breath not knowing how much he loved you?!

No! He couldn't let that happen! He couldn't!

With tears threatening to spill from his eyes, Dwayne grabbed his car keys and raced down the stairs two at a time, trying to comfort you as he frantically rushed to be by your side.

"Baby, where are you?! I'm coming right now, just tell me where you are!"

Your weak voice managed to say your location, and then the line went dead.

"No! No, darlin'! You can't do this to me! You can't! You have to stay alive, you hear me?! Please..."

Dwayne stepped on the gas as hard as he could, willing to risk anything to reach you as fast as possible, even if that consequence turned out to be personal injury.

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

Breathing was becoming more and more difficult as the minutes passed. The pool of blood you were lying in widened, flowing over the rocky ground you had forced yourself to lie prone on after the shootout.

The suspect you had been pursuing turned out to be more adept with weaponry than you or the rest of the team had expected. Unfortunately for you, you had to learn that lesson the hard way, and now you were paying the price.

Moaning softly, you pressed your hand to the wound on your side. It had most likely ruptured or at least scratched a kidney, judging by your extreme pain there and the great deal of blood you were losing. If you didn't get medical attention soon, your chances of survival were dismally low.

Where's Dwayne, anyway?

You wondered, slowly turning your aching head to examine your surroundings. Try as you might, you couldn't see your husband anywhere, at least not anywhere nearby.

That asshole! He said he'd be here, that I had to hold on for him! Hold on for what? He's not even coming!

Closing your eyes, you let out a soft sob that turned into loud, body racking wails. It was quite possibly your last minutes on this earth, and Dwayne still couldn't bring himself to be by your side. What a good for nothing excuse of a husband he was!

As you cried, losing yourself in the excruciating pain you were suffering mentally and physically, a gentle touch on your injured side was unnoticed.

But when you heard a familiar baritone voice whispering in your ear, comfort flooded over you, and you looked up with teary eyes to see Dwayne's concerned face looking back at you.

"Oh, darlin'... you're hurt bad..."

His voice was choked by tears, a rare sight to see.

Your body was getting colder every second, and your vision was slowly giving out. In one monumental effort, you brought your hand up to caress your husband's cheeks. They were damp with tears, so you used the pad of your thumb to brush them away.

"You're... here..."

Speaking was a painful affair, your straining lungs unwilling to let you get more than a few syllables out before seizing up with flashes of lightning-shock-like pain. But you needed to. You had to express what you never could all those nights you tried to, had to get your true emotions out even if they were your last words.

"You... never... loved... me..."

Each word was a Herculean effort, and you could feel the darkness closing in on you quicker with every letter you uttered. Your breathing was becoming shallower and occurring less often, your heart was slowing. You knew this was the end.

In your last moments alive, you looked at Dwayne's face, at the pain etched so clearly into every tiny wrinkle. And you had a realization, one that warmed your halted heart.

"You... do..."

With a slight shudder and one last wail, you breathed your last breath.

Your features were peaceful in death, a stark contrast to the cringing bundle of pain you had been moments before. A small smile graced your lips, as if you were only sleeping and having a pleasant dream. The only proof that you were actually dead was the pool of blood surrounding you and the hole in your side where the bullet had struck you.

Lifting your body gently into his arms, Dwayne kissed your forehead, hoping whatever remnants of your spirit remained within you could feel comforted by the simple show of affection he had waited far too long to show you.

"I love you," he said, repeating it until his voice was hoarse from the effort.

But there was no reply.

You were already gone.

#ncis new orleans #ncis nola #ncis nola fanfic #reblogging is appreciated #please comment #dwayne pride x reader #marriage #unrequited love #angst #hurt no comfort #this will kill you it's so sad #if you cry don't blame me

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bella-goths-wife · 1 year ago

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How the lost boys deal with their daughter escaping

Dwayne

He’s a complete mess

Not only is he having to deal with his baby being gone, but he’s also got to deal with his stab wound

You stabbed him in the shoulder pretty deep, which usually wouldn’t be a problem

If you didn’t use the vampire hunters knife

Dwayne had to resort to human ways of healing, which he finds extremely annoying after centuries of not having to bother with it

He’s also extremely worried

As stated in previous fics, Dwayne is the most protective over you

He’s terrified of you being on your own

Not even on your own, your with someone his body’s age

He doesn’t know this man, he could be a pervert for all Dwayne knows

He can’t sleep, feed or function properly

His times dedicated to finding you

He’s using your clothing to smell you and he tries to track you but he just can’t

So he just holds your clothes close to him so he can still smell you

He’s terrified and he just wants you to come home

Marko

Marko is furious

He can’t believe you’d leave

He and the boys only ever loved you and you decided to run away?

He sees it as a bratty ungrateful move

But don’t you worry, papa is gonna make sure you come home

He takes his anger out by haunting your dreams

He knows that he scares you, but maybe it’ll knock some sense into you

He’d never tell anyone, but he gets a thrill out of chasing you

It’s your fault he’s not able to hunt properly, so you have to make it up to him somehow

He’d never kill you, but he loves the power of you fearing him

He does miss you though

He finds himself staring at photographs of the two of you together from when you were younger, before the incident that broke your trust in him completely

He will get you home, that’s a given

But when he does, your in for a world of hurt

Paul

Paul is surprisingly guilty

He keeps looking at the photo of your mother, and every time he feels a frustrated feeling creep into his unbeating heart

He remembers your mother, he didn’t like her when he met her

But he remembers that he always thought she had the most beautiful eyes he’s ever seen

The same eyes that stared back at him in betrayal during your last conversation

The same eyes that glared at him in hatred

It’s not fair, he’d just gotten close to you again and you left him

He wants to hold you close and whisper that he loves you

The only reason he haunts your dreams is so he can see you

He doesn’t enjoy it one bit, he has to get high just to do it

Speaking of getting high, he’s sees you sometimes

He’s moved from weed to hallucinogenic stuff and when he does, you appear to him

Sometimes your young, sometimes your old

Sometimes your happy, sometimes your sad

He doesn’t care, as long as he sees you

David

The last words you said to David live in his head every minute of the day

“I’m no longer your daughter”

It’s all hears all day, he’s memorised the way you said

You had such a relieved tone, you sounded grateful

Grateful you weren’t his anymore

That’s what you think, you’ll be back with him where you belong soon

He sits in your room most days and surrounds himself with you

He looks around and wonders what goes on inside your mind

As much as you angered him, worried him, crushed him when you left you also sparked something else

Intrigue

You were able to befriend someone, have them help you, save up enough money and create a plan in the space of a few weeks all without him knowing

You’ve fascinated him

How did you manage to sneak out right underneath him?

He also deep down feels the littlest bit of pride

He raised you to be smart, clearly he raised you too smart

But your actions all felt so very…. David like

He’s still intent on hunting you down, thats for sure

You’ve slowed him down by stabbing him in the hand with the blessed knife, which if it was any other situation david would have been proud of you

David feels the need to be in your mind, to think like you and he’ll find you

He’s squeezed enough information out of your pathetic lovers, so he has a general idea

Better watch out baby, daddy’s coming to bring you home

And his punishment won’t be light

#slashers x reader #lost boys x reader #lost boys x child reader #platonic lost boys x reader #yandere lost boys x reader #poly lost boys x reader #yandere lost boys #dad lost boys #the lost boys #lost boy x reader

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le-amewzing · 2 years ago

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Don’t Flinch

I haven't been able to stop thinking about this smol cross-over idea for months, so I finally sat down and wrote it! :'D

Fic: "Don't Flinch" [FFN] [AO3]

Pairings/Characters: Lucy Tara (brief mentions of Lucy/Kate Whistler) & Meredith Brody, Jane Tennant, & a cameo from Dwayne Pride

Rating: K

Words: ~2,330

Additional info: gen fic, friendship, 3rd person POV

Summary: When Lucy's hesitancy to take the agent afloat position risks her dragging her feet and losing the opportunity, Tennant pulls some strings so Lucy can chat with someone who's been there before.

"They're going to want a decision, Lucy. Soon."

Lucy blinked and finally raised her eyes from the folder in Tennant's hands. Her mouth popped open, in a small "o," but no sound came out. That made sense; she'd already blurted to her boss exactly why she'd applied for this agent afloat position what felt like a lifetime ago.

Tennant's expression softened. She gave Lucy a fleeting smile, and her shoulders sank a smidge as she set the assignment aside on her desk behind her. "There are a lot of things you'll have to do, before you go, if that's what you choose. I know you don't have a lot of time to decide."

Lucy bit her bottom lip.

"You do still want this, though, right?"

"I…" Good grief, Jesse was always teasing her for being a chatterbox—but where had her words gone today? Lucy took a breath and squinted at the older woman. "I need time to think," she admitted in all honesty. "I mean, what would you do, in my shoes?"

But Tennant shook her head, not falling for the bait. "You know I can't answer that. Around your age, I was CIA and married and a mother already. That's comparing apples to oranges and wouldn't help you at all."

Lucy ran an anxious hand through her hair but nodded. "Yeah…"

Yet, after an odd beat, Tennant had that creative twinkle in her eye, the one Lucy and the others usually saw either just before they closed a case or before they blew one right open. "Actually, you have a good point. You do need time to think, as well as some help with the pros and cons." But, at the same time, Tennant turned her junior field agent around and ushered her out of the SAC's office.

"Wait, huh? I'm confused," Lucy said. She glanced up at Tennant when the other woman directed Lucy back to her chair behind her own desk out in the bullpen. "You agree with me?"

Tennant grinned—though, coupled with that twinkle in her eye, it wasn't as reassuring as Tennant might've intended—and twirled Lucy's chair so Lucy faced her computer. "Look, just. Distract yourself with the case at hand. Or even some old paperwork. I've a call to make."

"To wh—"

But Tennant wasn't sticking around to answer. The second Lucy twisted around to ask, Tennant had disappeared already.

Lucy frowned. At a time like this, she partly yearned to be out in the field, canvassing with Kai or with Jesse…then again, Whistler had come into her own a lot and was meshing with the team really well as their FBI liaison lately, and Lucy didn't want to interfere with her girlfriend's place on the team. It was better that Whistler, not Lucy, was out with the guys right now.

At the thought of the blonde, Lucy's eyes flicked back to Tennant's office, through the glass walls and to the folder waiting on Tennant's desk. If only this position hadn't come up now… If only Lucy hadn't applied in a desperate attempt to get off the island months ago…

She shook her head and got to sorting through information on their current case as Tennant suggested. Nope, there was no point in crying over spilt milk. Tennant was right: Lucy had a lot to sort out before she made her decision.

…Lucy had a lot of people to tell, before she made her decision.

Her list wasn't a long one, but Whistler's smile kept popping up in front of her other thoughts whenever Lucy attempted to focus on the current evidence list. Ugh, casework wasn't going to happen while she dreaded bringing up an agent afloat position to Whistler just when they were not only happy but actually getting started. Practical though the FBI probie might be, Whistler's smile easily faded in Lucy's mind's eye as she imagined telling her about the hypothetical time away from Hawaii.

Lucy glanced at her watch. Tennant had been gone for barely twenty minutes. Maybe she'd be back soon with whatever miracle she'd implied?

When another fifteen minutes passed of Lucy mindlessly sifting through files and rereading witness statements without absorbing words, she yawned and knew she needed a change of pace. The guys hadn't returned yet, and her text history with Whistler left off with this morning's hearts and funny faces (cute, nothing new, but it did hit Lucy with a fresh wave of guilt). "Time to see what snacks Ernie's packing today," Lucy mumbled to herself as she pushed up from her chair.

"Lucy!" Tennant called from the stairs.

The petite agent jolted and glanced to where Tennant waited for her. "Yeah, Boss?"

Tennant merely beckoned with a nod and a curl of her fingers.

Lucy glanced around her, but the other agents in the office paid her no mind, so she scurried across the way and up the stairs after their SAC. But, upstairs with the big screen, Tennant wasn't alone.

"Happy to do a favor for our sister office on the other ocean," said a much older man onscreen. His hair was mostly silver and a bit blond and white in places, and he had large, dark, drooping eyebrows over dark, drooping eyes that, coupled with his smile, reminded Lucy of a friendly neighborhood dog. He tore his eyes from Tennant for a moment when Lucy entered the room, and he tipped his head to her. "Well, now, you must be Special Agent Tara. Dwayne Pride."

"My counterpart out of New Orleans," Tennant supplied, "the Southeast SAC."

At that, Pride shook his head, though his smile never dimmed. "I tried tellin' the director that we did this dance before and didn't like it, but…after everything…Director Vance is willin' to give this another shot. So long as I get to supervise from the field, that is."

He smiled while Tennant smirked. "I prefer to call it a 'hands-on approach,'" she supplied.

Lucy glanced between them both before finally sliding in her own greeting. "It's—It's very nice to meet you. And to hear a somewhat familiar accent," she tacked on, chuckling and letting a little of her Texan drawl leak in for his reference.

"Much obliged. If you don't mind me not beatin' around the bush—Tennant tells me you've got a mighty fine opportunity in front of ya, but you've gotta make a decision by tomorra?"

"I, uh, yeah." Lucy swallowed a lump that formed in her throat in spite of the pleasant atmosphere.

Pride nodded. "Yep, not easy, makin' choices this big at the last minute. But I have an old associate on the line, waitin' to speak with ya. Thought she might—help clarify things." His smile lessened for a brief moment, his lips a tight line and his eyes narrow. Lucy would've asked if something were the matter if he hadn't nodded to Tennant instead.

Tennant, in turn, touched Lucy's shoulder. "You can have the room, as long as you need."

Lucy furrowed her brow and watched Tennant go. Still bewildered, she faced the screen in time for Pride's feed to cut over, and a new face replaced his.

This time, a woman maybe Tennant's age or a little younger greeted Lucy. Whereas Pride's backdrop had been the New Orleans office—his backdrop reminded Lucy a little of the main office's MTAC in D.C.—it was hard to make out this woman's whereabouts, since everything behind her was too dark and not well defined, all gray and black. With her dark hair, too, she would've blended in to her surroundings, if not for the way her computer screen lit up her pale skin in that ethereal, electronic manner; she might even be paler than Whistler, Lucy guessed. But her eyes—her eyes were bright, sharp, and piercing when they landed on Lucy.

Lucy licked her lips. "Special Agent Lucy Tara," she introduced herself.

The woman onscreen smiled briefly, but it felt…less friendly, perhaps pitying? Lucy mused. "Meredith Brody," she said.

Lucy's eyes widened. Brody… Brody. Brody. The name tickled the back of her brain, especially today of all todays, with this job offer a hot topic— "OH!" Lucy couldn't help but gape and gesture at Brody. "You—! You're Brody! That Brody! You were the youngest agent afloat assigned to duty!" She grinned and nearly laughed in amazement. "Holy crap. I just—I can't believe Tennant managed to set this up and." She paused for breath and stared. "Oh. Oh, God. I hope I'm not imposing? I know there's, like, five hours between here and New Orleans—"

Brody actually chuckled, which brightened Lucy's impression of her, and the other woman held up a hand to calm the junior field agent down. "Tara, Tara, don't worry about it. I'm not in New Orleans, but the hour isn't a problem. Plus, Dwayne Pride did a lot for me, back in my NCIS days. It's the least I could do."

That splashed cold water on her excitement, and Lucy's cheeks reddened. "Oh, you're—you're not NCIS anymore?"

Brody shook her head. She hesitated before saying, "No, I… I needed a fresh setting, so I took a personal contact's offer to work for DARPA, helping to manage security and assess threats. I see fewer people than I did in my old job, but I still get to flex my investigative skills." She shrugged.

Brody played it off as though it were nothing, but Lucy's eyebrows hovered high. Mentioning DARPA so smoothly? She had been impressed to meet the youngest agent afloat before; now Brody was somehow topping that.

"So, you have a chance to be agent afloat yourself."

"Yes, I do. I'd applied months ago, actually." Lucy dropped her eyes to her hands, which she kept clasped in front of her, to prevent her from twiddling her thumbs. "…to be quite honest, I applied when my head was in a different space and I thought I had a million-to-one chance of landing this, especially being a junior field agent."

Brody nodded. "No, it's not something they usually give to probies."

Lucy tensed.

"But everyone has to earn their experience somehow, and someone saw something in you. That's a good thing."

She tentatively raised her head, trying to muster a smile at the encouragement. "Yeah… Yeah, I guess."

Brody had to be sitting at a desk or table on her end, because she leaned forward and rested her chin on her hand while she studied Lucy closer, as though leaning in to the camera would give her better access. Brody narrowed her eyes, somewhat squinting, while she smiled. "Might be the right job but not the right time?" she surmised.

Lucy frowned.

Brody nodded again, but it was a small notion, mostly for herself. "I get it, having your reasons. Probably ones you might share and others you might not, for not jumping on the offer."

"Was it the same for you?" Lucy asked. "Did you ever feel butterflies or—or dread before accepting your agent afloat position?"

Brody paused before answering. "Not at first. Although the usual warnings you get, about 'finding your sea legs,' don't do being on an actual ship justice, so I can vouch for investing in decent seasickness meds if you opt to go."

Ah, right. There was being on the water twenty-four–seven that Lucy would also have to overcome… She twisted her lips around, waiting for Brody's next piece of advice.

But the older woman's humor mellowed. Her posture on the other end of the video call went somehow both tense and slack—Lucy read her body language as…apprehensive, yes, that was it—and Brody's eyes lost their focus or turned to something in the distance before she continued. "It's one thing once you get the hang of being an entire NCIS investigative team on your own, aboard a ship…" She paused for so long that Lucy thought the feed had frozen, when Brody resumed, "It's another if you're ever faced with a situation you simply can't prepare for." There, even with her eyes not quite on Lucy, Brody's expression darkened.

Lucy waited a beat before asking, "Then…we just prep as best we can, right?" She timidly smiled, too, craning her neck a bit in an effort to catch Brody's attention, half wondering if this call really had been a good idea if it'd sent Brody down some dark trip on Memory Lane.

Brody attempted to return the polite smile, at least. But she didn't expound on her previous thought.

"…hey. Brody, did—did that happen? To you?"

She paused, waiting for Brody to respond, but the dark look on Brody's face was clue enough: Brody expected Lucy either would've read up on more than just Brody's history-making assignment or she would do so after they disconnected today. So Lucy switched tactics.

"What I mean is: What's your advice, in the event that…I encounter something unexpected?"

Those same bright, sharp, piercing eyes that had first landed on her minutes ago bored holes into her now. "It's simple: Don't flinch."

That plain response, said so steadily and without blinking, chilled Lucy. But it also oddly settled her nerves. About telling Whistler, telling her friends, even imagining being aboard that ship—these things didn't seem so scary anymore. Not that Lucy wanted her own unexpected moment, but Brody was proof that you could go in, face anything, and still emerge on the other side.

Lucy couldn't see why she wouldn't take this job now.

This time, when her mouth popped open, she wasn't speechless. "Thank you," Lucy said, her voice steady for the first time in hours.

The darkness mostly vanished from her expression, leaving a haunted impression of Brody to Lucy, but Brody nodded and tried to smile, tired though the gesture was. "I wish you luck, Agent Tara." A second later, the screen faded to black.

The second after, Lucy turned heel, exiting the room and making for the stairs, calling out, "Hey, Boss…!"

Done for the 5, 10, 20, 50, 70, 100 Fandoms Challenge as well as the If You Dare Challenge (for prompt #150: tick tock goes the clock) in the HPFC forum on FFN. As some of my pals know, I've actually had a smol 4-way xover planned for a while, but I need the time to sit down and write that (idc that the shows managed to do the 3-way xover…I miss NOLA…!), and then this idea cropped up, so this got written first. XD Funnily enough, Lucy and Brody aren't even my fav charries in their respective series (that'd be Kai & Pike, and LaSalle & Gregorio & Jimmy Boyd, respectively ;3), but when Lucy's temporary transfer cropped up during s2, I did get to thinking about both Brody's infamous time aboard the USS Moultrie and Tony's time as agent afloat when Vance briefly split up the MCRT. I went with some embellishes here for Brody, but it felt fitting that Lucy might focus on the positive instead of the negative… I also like the Pride cameo, as well as some hcs for where both he and Brody are at this point in the NCIS canon. :3c (I actually have sooo many NOLA ideas, which—yet again—some of my pals know, but I deeply crave the time to write them all. XD) This rly is just some Hawai'i and NOLA fluff, but I think it fits nicely with Lucy's predicament. And woohoo! My first Hawai'i fic! :D (And here's my plug for NOLA: If you still haven't watched it yet, I highly rec it! -w-)

Thanks for reading, and feel free to leave an anon/unsigned review via the FFN link or comment via the AO3 link at the top of the post, especially if you enjoyed this!

~mew

#ncis: hawaii #ncis: nola #ncis: new orleans #lucy tara #meredith brody #fanfic #mew writes too much #jane tennant #dwayne pride

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