#it’s the WAY carla takes her by the shoulders and holds her at arm’s length and forces her to meet her eye and tells her

[tevos]

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[mysecretlittlelibrary]

In A Year's Time

Pairing: Dilf!Bucky Barnes x Teacher!Reader

Word Count: 2.9k

Warnings: so many actually okay okay let's see oral (f & m receiving) multiple/forced orgasms, praise (they're so in love plz), minor breeding kink, unprotected sex (wrap it UP yall), so many pet names, marking for sure, I hope I got everything lmao

Genre: So much fluff and some nice smut to top it off ^3^

Summary: Happy Anniversary to dilf!Bucky and his teacher girlfriend

***

You clap your hands to your class's attention, waiting for them to clap the rhythm back at you.

"Alright kids, pull out your math workbooks we're gonna do-" you trail off when a knock on the doorframe of your classroom distracts you. When you turn your head, Bucky's smiling at you with a bouquet of flowers.

"James! Hi." You say walking over to him with a confused chuckle.

"Hey doll, sorry to interrupt." Bucky meets you before you get all the way to the door.

"I love you and, of course, I'm happy to see you, but I thought we were meeting later? Did I get that wrong?"

"Nah we're still meeting later, just wanted to get a jump on things. Brought you flowers." He says handing you the flowers and kissing your cheek. This, obviously, sends your class of eight year olds into a flurry of squeals and oos.

"Settle down my dears." You tell them with a chuckle. "This is a wonderful surprise sweetheart, the flowers are beautiful." You say to Bucky softly.

"I thought you'd like them. I don't wanna derail your class too much so I'm gonna go. I'll pick you up at 7?"

"Yeah that's fine, thank you for stopping by." You smile at him. Bucky gives you one last kiss before leaving your classroom.

"Miss y/n!" One of your students, Alya, shoots her hand into the air as you set the flowers on your desk.

"Yes miss Alya?" You look at her.

"Is that your boyfriend?" She asks.

"Yes, it is. Today's our anniversary but, he's like this most of the time." You muse. Several of your students oo and aw at your statement.

"He's so handsome Miss y/n!" Carla, another student, tells you.

"He is, isn't he?" You laugh. "Anyway lovelies, get out your math workbooks if you didn't before, we're going to continue working on fractions." You say refocusing to get through your lesson plan. You finish out the afternoon with your kids and get everyone ready to go home for the day. You sit at your desk, doing some grading while kids get picked up or leave to get on their buses. By the time the last of your students are dismissed, it's after four. You pack up your things and head home to get ready for your anniversary with your bouquet from Bucky in hand. When you get home you immediately put the flowers in a vase with water before getting into the shower. You take your time, enjoying the hot water on your skin after a long day.

By the time you finally step out of the shower, it's almost six. You put on a knee-length black off-shoulder dress with a short slit in it. Your makeup for the night is a gold smokey eye with red lipstick. You finish the outfit with red heels, some gold earrings, and a matching necklace plus a gold clutch bag. Once you've finished getting ready it's almost 7. You use the extra time to clean up the mini tornado you caused while getting ready. When you hear a knock on your apartment door you grab your purse and open it to find Bucky waiting with his hands in his pockets. He lets out a slow whistle as he takes you in.

"God, you look gorgeous." He breathes and you giggle at the compliment.

"You look pretty good yourself, and we match." You tell him stepping into the hall to lock your door. He's wearing a red dress shirt and black slacks. It's almost like he knew what you'd be wearing.

"I know my girl." He shrugs holding out his arm to you. You loop your arm through his and let him lead you to his car. You don't talk on the drive there, not for lack of conversation or anything, Bucky just hasn't told you where you're going and you're hoping to guess before you get there. After about 20 minutes, he pulls up to a nice restaurant you've never been to before. He parks and walks around to your side of the car, opening your door and helping you out. He always insists on it when you're out together. You look at him curiously as he leads you inside.

"I was talking to Sam and he said this was a really good place for Italian food. I know we've never been but since you really like Italian I thought it'd be a nice spot." Bucky explains finally before talking to the maitre D.

"It looks lovely." You say quietly as you're led to your table.

"Well hopefully the food lives up." He hums.

"Besides surprising me at school this afternoon, how was your day?" You ask him while looking over the menu.

"It was great, got tons of errands done since I didn't go into the bookstore today."

"Productive then. That's lovely."

"How was the rest of your day pan out? Did I totally screw up your lesson plan?"

"Not totally. The kiddos had some questions but, we managed to get back to fractions pretty quickly once I answered a few of them." 

"Questions, huh?"

"Just who you were, really. They think you're handsome." You smile.

"That's cute." Bucky chuckles.

"It was! I think I'll keep the flowers in my classroom. They're at home now because- I didn't have a vase at school but I plan to take them back." You tell him. Before he can reply, a server comes up to you and asks if you're ready to order. You each order your choices and Bucky picks a wine to share that will go with both of your meals.

"Did you- look up wine pairings before we came here?" You ask, surprised with how quickly he decided on a wine.

"Well, not technically but I've been learning my way around wine selections. Nat says it's an important skill to have." He shrugs.

"I dunno how important I'd say it is but it is impressive."

"If it's impressive to you then I'd say it's plenty important." Bucky picks your hand up from the table to place a kiss on the back of it and you feel your cheeks heat. The conversation changes then and the two of you shift to sharing memories of the last year over your meal. You laugh over things like Lily's meddling to get you together and your first few awkward dates where you were both still too nervous about things being perfect, milestones like the day Bucky asked you to be his girlfriend, or when you threw him a party for his birthday. Bucky surprises you with his recollection of silly moments you hadn't even realized he noticed and you surprise him with pictures you've taken when he's not looking. The food is wonderful, though you're barely thinking about that because you're so focused on enjoying each other's company, but you do split a desert before you finally leave the restaurant arm in arm. When you're back in the car Bucky doesn't start the car right away.

"Is everything alrigh-" before you can even finish your question, Bucky kisses you fiercely with a hand at the back of your neck holding you in place. You kiss him back with as much passion as he's giving you and you're panting by the time he pulls away.

"I've been wanting to do that all night, but I knew you'd scold me for messing up your lipstick." Bucky says breathily as he leans back into his own seat with his hand still gently against your neck.

"Oh." Is the only response you can muster at first, "well, dinner's over now so- I guess it's okay." You add.

"You know, Steve has Lily for til morning if you'd like to... keep celebrating." Bucky says. His hand is now on your leg, a thumb distractingly rubbing against the skin exposed by your slit.

"It- sounds like you have something in mind." You mutter.

"Oh trust me, I do." Bucky hums. You lean over the center console, close enough that your lips practically graze his ear.

"Well, show me." You say softly, nipping his ear. The action makes him shudder and before you've even settled back into your seat Bucky's pulling out of the parking lot a little too fast. "Bucky slow down." You giggle at his sudden eagerness.

"You say things like that to me and expect me not to react? Come on doll I nearly ripped your dress off right there in the parking lot." Bucky says, hands gripping the steering wheel tightly.

"We have all night for you to do whatever you want to me James just don't crash before we get there." You muse.

"I love you baby but if you keep talking that way we aren't going to get there." Bucky grumbles. You chuckle to yourself but decide not to push his buttons anymore. The rest of your drive is quiet and quick. Bucky hops out of the car and rushes over to open your door for you. You try not to laugh as Bucky leads you to his front door. He unlocks the door and practically pulls you into the house. You take a second to shut the door behind you although as you're trying to lock it, Bucky cages you between the door and his body. You manage to twist the lock before Bucky kisses you intensely. Bucky's lips against yours make you gasp and he uses the opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth. You moan into the kiss, getting lost in the feel of your boyfriend's lips. You shove Bucky's suit jacket from his shoulders and make quick work of the buttons on his shirt, your fingers dancing against his skin, enjoying the way his muscles react to your touch. Before you can move the shirt off of him, Bucky drags your dress from your shoulders and you let it drop to your feet. His hands slide down your sides, settling at the back of your thighs.

"Jump up for me lovely." Bucky mutters sweetly against your lips. You wrap your legs around his waist and Bucky carries you through his house to his bedroom all while you kiss him repeatedly the whole way there. When Bucky tosses you onto his bed you giggle and he looks at you curiously. "What're you giggling about?" He quirks an eyebrow up and smirks.

"Oh nothing really." You bite your lip, barely hiding a smile as Bucky climbs onto the bed.

"What is it doll?" He sing-songs, kissing at your neck to coax an answer out of you.

"I-it's nothing, just... I like the way you throw me around that's all." You moan as Bucky decorates your throat with blooms of red.

"You like being thrown around? I'll keep that in mind." Bucky chuckles, his kisses trailing down your skin. He tugs your bra down enough to expose your breasts and immediately wraps his lips around one of your nipples, fingers tweaking the other one. You whimper as Bucky's ministrations tug at your core so perfectly. Your hands latch onto his shoulders, shuddering when he rolls your nipple between his teeth. Bucky continues to kiss his way down your abdomen until he's nestled between your legs. The sound of ripping fabric makes you gasp as your pussy is exposed.

"Did you just rip my panties?!"

"They were in the way. I'll replace them." He grumbles.

"You're not usually so impatient." You muse. Bucky huffs in a way that you're sure means he's rolled his eyes but he doesn't respond to you, instead he licks a stripe between your folds that snatches the amusement from your voice with a sharp inhale. With his hands on your hips he locks you in place as he dives in. Your fingers bury themselves in his hair when his tongue lavishes your clit with attention. He licks and sucks at your core until you're twitching beneath him, pending orgasm winding you tight.

"Bucky, I- I'm. Oh my God!" you whine loudly as Bucky works you towards release with his tongue.

"Go ahead doll, let go." He tells you, suctioning your clit into his mouth harsh enough to pull your orgasm from you with a loud cry.

"Holy fuck." You pant out as you wait for your heart to stop pounding in your ears. You whimper as Bucky continues to lap at your folds, the sensitivity of your clit making you squirm.

"Hold still sweetheart." Bucky says against you, two fingers joining his mouth between your legs. His tongue focuses on your clit again while his fingers work you open. Bucky curls and stretches his digits inside you in ways only he knows how.

"Feels so good Bucky." You moan, grinding against his hand and mouth as that tightening in your core gets stronger with each passing moment.

"Gonna cum again for me doll?" His tone is slightly amused as he watches you bend at his hand.

"God yes. Please!" You whine, feeling the pressure build.

"Lemme taste you again y/n. You taste so good baby, cum for me." His words come out almost sounding like a plea and your back arches as another orgasm washes over you. When Bucky continues lick you through your orgasm you tug his hair hard enough to force him away.

"I swear if I let you you'd never stop." You shake your head, pulling him up to kiss you.

"Sometimes I don't." He mutters against your lips. You taste yourself on his tongue as you get lost in the feel of his mouth on yours. It's true, some nights he'll eat you out until you practically pass out on him, but tonight is your anniversary, and you want to give as much as you get so you push Bucky backwards until he's standing at the foot of his bed and you make quick work of freeing him from his pants and boxers. You take him in your hand and slowly trace the prominent vein that runs along his shaft with your tongue before taking the head between your lips. Bucky lets out a strangled groan as you suck eagerly on the tip of his dick while gently stroking the length of him. He's hot and heavy in your grip as you slowly take more of him into your mouth each time you bob your head. You look up at him once you set a steady rhythm reveling in the way his mouth drops open and his chest rises harshly. You watch his reactions as you suck his dick enjoying each groan, each curse, and each shuddering breath he releases at your ministrations. His right hand is in your hair but he makes no attempt to take control of your actions, surrendering to the feel of your mouth on him. It takes you practically no time at all to work him almost over the edge, by the time he's grunting for you to slow down he's already passed the point of no return.

"Fucking hell baby, hang on a sec." His strangled grumble makes you want to giggle but you can't lest you stop. His fingers in your hair tighten in a warning that you ignore, moving noisily up and down his length until his release floods your mouth. You swallow as it comes, only letting him go with a pop when his dick stops twitching in your mouth. He leans forward a bit, taking support from the edge of the bed and you giggle at the effect you have on him. "What part of 'hang on a sec' wasn't clear enough to you?" He asks breathlessly.

"Just reminding you that you're not the only one that can pull oragsms from someone in this room babe." You smile cheekily.

"Trust me that's a lesson I'm not likely to forget." Bucky chuckles pulling your legs from under you to get you on your back.

"Let's hope not. I review it often enough." You joke, shuffling up the bed a bit. 

"And trust me I am not complaining." He hums lining himself up with your entrance.

"Would be a shame if you were since I enjoy doing it so m-" your sentence is cut off by a gasp as Bucky thrusts into you suddenly.

"You were saying y/n?" He teases rolling his hips into yours leisurely.

"J-oh. Uhhh just that I like sucking your dick." You manage to get out the words though they're breathy as Bucky starts to set a rhythm.

"God you're so perfect." Bucky grunts, hands gripping your hips roughly. As much as his hold will allow, you rock against him, thrusting up to match his movements.

"Fuck- feels so good Bucky." You moan.

"Yeah? You like that baby, don't you?"

"Yes! God yes, so much." You whimper, back arching into Bucky's body. Bucky's thrusts are sharp and deep dragging you towards another orgasm. Your fingers claw helplessly at Bucky's back, red lines decorating the expanse of skin, making him hiss.

"Shit you're so fucking warm baby. Taking me so perfectly." Bucky sighs out. Bucky's fingers find your clit, making you jolt when starts toying with the sensitive bundle of nerves.

"Holy shit Bucky."

"Cum for me y/n. Want you to cream all on my dick." Bucky grunts. With a few rough circles rubbed into your clit, he sends you over the edge for the third time. At this point, you're a twitching mess of whimpers as you come down, Bucky's continued thrusts prolonging your blissed out state.

"You're so pretty doll." He says kissing you gently, a notable contrast to the way he drives into you. Bucky's head snaps back and you realize his rhythm has changed. His thrusts are erratic now as he chases his orgasm.

"You're close aren't you Bucky? You wanna cum inside me? Fill me up?" Your mind finally clear enough to coax Bucky. Your hand at the back of his neck pulls him towards you, littering his throat with hickeys until his hips still against yours and hot white paints your walls. Bucky lowers his head to your chest, breathing heavy against your skin. You wrap your arms around him to hug him to you. He always complains about crushing you if you ask him to do this on his own but he never has the will to move when you pull him against you yourself.

"Happy anniversary baby." Bucky mutters as you run your fingers through his hair.

"Happy anniversary indeed." You giggle.

***

Tagged Users: @marvel-fandom23 @alana4610 @marvel-wifey-86

Anthology Masterlist

[nsheetee]

One Foot in the Golden Life

Pairing: rich kid!renjun x caddie!reader Genre: rich kid AU, university au, romance, slight angst, mature content Length: 9.7k Summary: this is the story of a boy who is constantly pushed down by his father, a girl who just wants to not live paycheck to paycheck, and how they met on a golf course.  Warnings/Details: includes mentions of other NCT members, female reader, swearing, inaccurate depiction of golf, acts of sexual harassment towards the reader, mature content (unprotected sex, coming inside, oral [female receiving])

a/n: a big thank you to @insomni-writing​ for beta reading this ♡ also, if you are a minor, please beware that there is mature content in this fic!

You thought it would be the perfect opportunity to work at the most well-known country club in the state, but really the only thing your job brought you was perpetual cold to your hands and feet, and entangled your simple life with one of the youngest and richest bachelors at your university.

The only place on top of Mt. Carla is the Augusta Country Club, and it is a sight to see by the regular people who gaze up at it from the city below, like mortals looking up into the Gods’ chamber. The first time you went up the mountain for your job interview at the club, you got lost and were almost late. Thankfully, you didn’t crash your car on the winding roads, and got the job as well.

The Augusta Country Club is equipped with the largest and most expensive golf course in the region, but also has Michilin approved restaurants and the finest saunas and gym equipment any CEO could ask for. Those are usually the type of people that have club memberships: CEO’s, congress men and women, top-notch lawyers, and maybe the odd business owner that made it big enough to afford the price tag.

When you took up the job as a caddie, you had an idea of what you were getting yourself into. You’ve only been working for a month, but there are already a few regular golf players that prefer you as their caddie, which in your book is a success considering the type of high profile people that come to relax here.

However, today is different.

You can sense it when Kara and Mina, your coworkers who have been working here for a year longer than you, walk towards you and your friend, Lia, before your shift today. Mina has a small stack of info cards in her hands and they both hold smug smiles on their faces. The info cards have everything a caddie needs to know about who they’ll be working for that shift, and by the looks of it, today’s game will have a good match up.

“I’m going to be Mr. Huang’s son’s caddie. Don’t even fight me on this, you know I’ll win.” Kara states boldly as the two girls stop in front of you, snatching an info card out of Mina’s hand when she holds them up like she’s playing a card game, flashing the photos and names on the cards at you.

“I call dibs on Mr. Lee’s son.” Mina hums, not even bothering to keep up the act that they just want to be good caddies. “You two can have the old men.” She smiles tightly, shoving the other two info cards into Lia’s grasp and turning on her heel to walk away with Kara.

Considering you don’t even know what they’re talking about, you have no right to be mad at them. There is more confusion clouding your mind than anger at their rudeness. However, Lia does not share the same sentiment.

“I’ll shove these info cards up their-” Lia fumes, her volume rising as the sentence went on, and you quickly pulled her out of ear shot, around a corner by the bathrooms. “-stuck up two faced asses!”

“Lia…” You mutter, her wording making you shake your head at how unstable her temper is, “They’ve been working here for a lot longer than we have, just let them have those clients. Either way, what’s it to you?”

“What’s it to me? ___, they’re talking about Lee Jeno and Huang Renjun. I know I told you about them before.” Lia states like she expects you to have those two names tattooed on the front lobe of your brain already.

“I think I remember them…. They go to our University, right?” You try to regurgitate your friend’s rambles from months ago out of your head.

“Yeah, business department.” She sighs dreamily, as if the business department is the sexiest thing on campus. “This might be our only chance to shoot our shot.” You can’t help but grimace a bit.

“It can be your chance to shoot your shot. Leave me out of this.” You randomly grab an info card out of Lia’s hands, turning it around to see Mr. Huang Lijun’s photo staring back at you. You send Lia one last look, walking around her to go change in the dressing rooms.

“Aw, you’re no fun.” You hear her whine, her footsteps echo through the hallway as she comes up behind you. She almost knocks you into the wall from how forcefully she grabs onto your arm and swings it back and forth like you’re two little kids on your way to the playground.

“Maybe we can shoot our shot at the old men?” You and Lia stop walking, turning to face each other for a moment of silence. You blink at each other as if you’re both considering it, before erupting into laughter at the ridiculous thought and continue walking down the hallway.

You and Lia constantly joke around about finding rich sugar daddies at work to pay for your college tuition, but both of you know you’ll never actually commit to the idea fully. Neither of you will admit it, but you both know you don’t have the guts to do something like that.

By the time you, Lia, and your other coworkers change into uniform and gather your supplies for the Lee vs. Huang game, it’s already 10am. The air is crisp and cool, the signs of fall creep along your skin and taint the deep green trees in light oranges and yellows.

Despite the chill, you and your coworkers still wear skirts, long sleeve v-necks, and puffy vests; the only thing keeping your feet warm is a pair of short white socks and tennis shoes. You don’t mind the chill knowing that once the game starts you’ll be moving around enough to get warm. You stop thinking about your cold toes as soon as the door of the country club opens and the Lees and Huangs walk out.

The first time you lay eyes on Huang Renjun, you think your heart might stop.

You know it’s him because he walks close to his father as they make their way to where you’re standing by the golf carts. He has obviously dyed blonde color, his dark roots proof of that; it’s neatly gelled back in an effortless way with the light wind blowing a few of the locks gently as if an angel is personally moving them for him. His white jacket and black pants are slim and look like they cost more than all of your college textbooks this semester. He walks with his head high, his pretty, pink lips set in a straight line, and his almond eyes gentle.

Okay, so... maybe you understand the hype now.

“Good evening, ladies.” Mr. Lee announces, looking at you and your coworkers. You all politely introduce yourself and state who you’ll be caddying for.

Huang Lijun isn’t as tall as his son, but he looks to be more lively than Renjun, even at his age. He has a permanent smile on his lips and you can feel a friendly demeanor radiating from him when you approach.  

“Good Morning, sir. Let me take those off of your hands.” You politely grab the bag of clubs from him, feeling shy as his gaze doesn’t leave your face the entire time.

“You’re new here, right? I feel like I would remember you if I saw you before.” You’re surprised when he suddenly pinches your cheek, and he laughs at your shocked face. An unsettled feeling plants itself at the bottom of your stomach at the unwarranted touch.

“I’ve only been working here for a month, sir.”

“I think I’ll be coming around here more often, then.” He winks at you and turns to go sit in the front seat of the golf cart. You can’t help but let the feeling at the bottom of your stomach grow at how the older man looks at you. You definitely misjudged his “friendly” demeanor. Your eyes can’t help but glance at Renjun, who’s standing a few feet away from the whole interaction. He gives you a blank stare before turning and following his father.

In the past few weeks, you had gotten many lustful smiles and lewd gazes at your bare legs, but also many dollars in tips just in one morning by letting those smiles and gazes happen. The need to make ends meet justifies it all, and the cash you earn at the end of every shift only fuels this need.

The ride from the club’s main building to the first hole is short, so you quickly recompose yourself. You still have a job to do— a job you’re being paid lots of money for. You believe in your strong will to put up with whatever antics Mr. Huang pulls for the next few hours. Upon arrival at the first hole, you pull the bag of golf clubs out of the cart and follow in Mr. Huang’s quick footsteps, suddenly feeling sweaty from the exercise you’re getting by carrying these heavy clubs. When your group reaches the first hole, you set the bag down on the ground and press your hand over your face, but Mr. Huang’s voice startles you.

“Woah, there.” You jump and face him. “Those clubs cost more than my car, and unlike my car, they don’t deserve to be on the ground, darling.”

“Yes, sir. I apologize.” You smile shyly and pick up the clubs from the ground, your shoulders already straining to keep them up. ‘They weigh as much as a car,’ you huff.

This is going to be a long game.

“You kids can clean the carts today,” Mina suddenly throws a keychain at Lia’s face, she barely catches it before it hits her, “I have plans.”

“Me, too.” Kara quickly says, following after Mina as they both walk away. The game ended right at lunchtime (the Lees won) and now you and your coworkers are back at the club. It’s supposed to be everyone’s job to clean the golf carts after they’ve been used, but it looks like today it’ll just be you and Lia… Maybe.

“___, please. I’m going to be late to the cafe, my boss there is already mad at me.” Lia turns to you and begs with her hands clasped in front of her chest, eyes pleading and feet bouncing. You sigh; you’re hungry and your muscles are sore, and all you want to do is go home as quickly as you can. Still, you roll your eyes and take the golf cart keys from her, making her face crack open into a smile as she hugs you quickly.

“I’ll bring you coffee on Monday!” She screams at you as she practically runs away, leaving you with two golf carts to clean. You sluggishly begin, crawling into the cart the Huangs were sitting in when you find a small notebook laying on one of the seats. Picking it up to examine it, you find out it’s your university’s yearly planner, a book that everyone gets at the beginning of every academic year. Along the binder reads “Huang Renjun” and your eyes widen, immediately looking up to glance at the direction that Renjun walked off to a while ago.

Your legs move quickly through the corridors of the club, moving past changing rooms, saunas, and bathrooms, the planner tightly clutched in your hand. Your head is on a swivel and your lower lip is stuck between your teeth, until you hear a door open and slam shut behind you, making you turn your head to catch Renjun walking out of a changing room.

“Mr. Huang!” You call out.. Renjun freezes at the name, spinning on his heel to see you walking towards him.

“Sorry to disturb you, but you left your planner on the golf cart.” You hold it out for him, but he doesn’t take it.

“How do you know it’s a planner? Did you look through it?” You blink at him, stunned, and then glance down at the notebook. You’re surprised by the sudden questions and at the same time annoyed that Renjun accused you of snooping through his things so quickly. The image you had of him earlier, graceful, classy, and attractive, slips out of your mind as he stares down at you. However, this is the first time he’s directly talking to you, and you can’t help the spark that ignites in your belly from the roughness in his voice. It’s higher-pitched, but unpolished and jagged as he speaks with you.

“No. I go to the same University. I have the same one.” You explain. Renjun’s stare turns into shock.

“Really? Which department?”

“Fine Arts. I study Studio Art.” At first you think that you’re seeing things, but after blinking, you can guarantee that Renjun has jealousy painted on his face. It’s so sour that he looks away, trying to preoccupy his hands by fiddling with his bag. “So, are you going to take this, or…?”

“Yeah,” The bitterness drips from his tone, but you have a feeling it’s not directed at you, “Thank you for returning it.” He finally accepts it and turns to his bag, taking out his wallet. The cards inside look thick and heavy; memberships to places you’ll never step foot in and credit cards with limits you could never even imagine. Your pride tells you that you don’t need anything he could give you, so you silently turn around and walk away.

Renjun shuffles through some crisp 10’s and 20’s, but when he looks up to give you the tip, you’re already down the hallway and halfway out the door. You have golf carts to clean.

The next time you see Renjun is a week after the last game. The chilly weather remains, along with the useless uniform you have to wear, but this time around you’re not Mr. Huang’s caddie, you’re Renjun’s.

Kara walks next to you with Mr. Huang’s heavy golf clubs, her lips straight and head turned away from you to show her annoyance at how the caddie match up situation went this week. You’re sure to get an earful about this for at least the next few days, but you kind of like this revenge that fate dealt Kara. Either way, it’s not like there’s anything you can do about the match up. Renjun requested you to be his caddie this week, and you weren’t going to risk your bosses being angry with you by denying the request.

“Driver.” Renjun’s voice pulls you into the game. You pull out the correct golf club and put it into his awaiting hand, your fingertips brushing with his. “Aren’t you cold?” The words shock you, considering they’re the first words Renjun spoke to you today other than commands for golf clubs.

“I-I’m fine, Mr. Huang.” You respond promptly.

“Don’t call me that.” His tone is icy, and he quickly realizes how unnecessary it is to bite at you like that, “Just call me Renjun.” His father walks back from his shot, looking very smug. Renjun’s face is calm as he trades spots with his father and prepares for his first swing of the day, correcting his posture and loosening his limbs.

You remember the first time you saw him, how elegant and poised he looked. Your cold hands break into a sweat as your chest heats up from the quick beating of your heart. Renjun has only been icy and accusing towards you so far, yet you still feel warm while thinking about him. There has to be something wrong with you.

“Doesn’t my son look like he knows what he’s doing?” Mr. Huang asks from beside you, a small, unnerving smile on his lips.

“Yes, sir.” You reply back with your own, more innocent, smile.

“I taught him everything he knows about golf…. And women.” Mr. Huang leans into you, turning his chest to face you so that his breath is hitting your cheek. You can’t help but swallow to relieve your dry and cold throat, keeping your eyes forward as Renjun swings his club back and forth a bit in preparation.

“Yes, sir.” The only thought on your mind is to stop this man from stepping closer.

“Is that the only thing you can say?”

Renjun swings his arm back, breathing in as he keeps his eyes on the small white ball and his hopes in the green before him. Mr. Huang’s right hand is warm on your waist, but you would give anything to freeze right now.

A sharp crack ripples through the air as Renjun hits the golf ball and sends it flying into the golf course. His eyes are not where the ball lands, but instead on where his father touches you.

Renjun’s mom died when he was not even three days old.

He never got to meet her— to lay on her chest and hold her finger with his whole hand. He’ll never know what advice she would’ve given him when he got his first girlfriend, and he’ll never know how she would’ve reacted to him crashing his first car when he was 17. He only knows that his mom would’ve been there for him through all of that, unlike his father, who was not.

Renjun has had “mothers” through his life; three, to be exact. The first was when he was 5 years old, and she quickly asked for a divorce after Renjun’s dad went on a three month business trip and she didn’t hear from him the whole time. The second “mother” was a bit more mature than the first and with a lot more time on her hands. She wanted to shape 9 year old Renjun into a perfect student, which was something Renjun’s father appreciated, but still divorced her for “being too strong-headed.” Renjun only met his third mother twice when he was 13: once at the wedding and the second time at her funeral. He didn’t ask any questions, he wasn’t very interested in the first place.

These were the type of people Renjun spent his life around, but they really weren’t his mothers. The only similarity he had with those women was his father, and he treated them as poorly as he treated Renjun. That’s why when Renjun looks at you, cowering away from the very man who is his only link to family, he feels sick.

When is his dad going to stop being a fucking predator? How young does he want his next conquest to be? Will Renjun’s next mom be the same age as him? Something swirls in the pit of his stomach when he watches his father and it takes a moment for him to figure out what it is: jealousy. He’s not sure why he’s feeling jealous over someone he just met last week, but the feeling engulfs his whole chest and it burns him to his spot.

Renjun doesn’t even notice that he swung his golf club or that the golf ball went somewhere far into the green, probably an overshot. He only sees you, afraid of the man touching you but not stepping away. Why aren’t you stepping away?

“Nice job, Renjun.” His best friend, Jeno, claps a hand on his back as he steps up, hitting Renjun back into reality and forcing him to walk towards you. As Renjun approaches, his father slyly takes his hand away, and Renjun notices how you let out a relieved sigh. Giving you back his driver, Renjun strategically stands between you and his father, pretending to watch Jeno swing.

“Good job… Renjun.” You whisper, unsure about calling him by his first name so informally.

“Thank you.” Renjun sends a side glance to his father to see the displeased look on his face. “How was that, Dad?” Renjun hopes that maybe he can remind his father of why he’s here (to win against the Lees this week, not to feel up a girl 30 years younger than him) but in this moment, his father is acting like a 5 year old in the middle of a silent tantrum, not a 50 year old who runs the most successful construction company in the country.

“I’ve taught you better than that.” Renjun is sure they’re not talking about golf anymore, the authoritative tone in his father’s voice sends a lightning bolt of surprise and slight fear down Renjun’s back. He hates how he gets scared, he hates how his father can control him. The fury churns in the pit of his stomach as he accepts his father’s words with a bow of his head.

One day, Renjun swears he won’t submit anymore.

After the game ended with the Lees winning once again, you, Lia, and your other coworkers convene at the golf carts after the clients leave to change inside the club.

“You ladies know the drill.” Kara throws both sets of golf cart keys at you before walking off with Mina. You push Lia towards the entrance of the building before she even has a chance to turn around and open her mouth.

“You should get to the cafe before your boss throws another fit.” Lia turns back to face you, her jaw slightly slack and her eyes shining.

“You’re seriously the best. I love you.”

“Yeah, yeah, just give me a few extra shots in my coffee on Monday.” Lia laughs at that, grabbing your face between her two small, manicured hands and kissing you on each cheek before hopping off inside. You can’t help but be amused at her antics, turning to the golf carts in front of you to start cleaning.

“They make you clean the carts by yourself?” The voice startles you, not because you weren’t expecting it but because it’s Renjun’s. You turn your head over your shoulder, he’s standing just a few feet away still in his golfing gear from earlier.

“Uh, not usually, no. But my coworkers haven’t been happy with me lately.” You explain, fully turning to him and crossing your arms over your chest to tuck your cold hands into your sides.

“The ones who have been working here for a while?” You nod as an answer, and Renjun nods back in understanding, shoving his hands in his pants pockets. “They’ve been trying to get with me and my best friend for a while...” Renjun trails off when he sees your eyebrows raise at the comment, “... But that’s not what I came here to talk about.”

“Oh? What are you here for?” The conversation has gotten too informal for a worker and their client to be having, but you kind of like talking to Renjun in this casual setting.

“I realized that the past few times we’ve talked I’ve been such a dick.” He laughs lightly as he remembers, “I wanted to apologize for that. I wasn’t in a good mood last week and this morning, and I ended up pushing it on you.”

Renjun feels lots of emotions when it comes to you, despite only having this one proper conversation with you. He feels envy towards you for being able to study something that he desperately wants to. He feels guilt when he remembers how quickly he made you into a thief when you were only trying to return his belongings, and he feels so many other secondary and tertiary emotions in between. His head is full when he looks at you. He finally feels like he’s thinking about something, not just doing the same day to day motions in a constant cycle of ‘when will this end?’

“You’re apologizing?” You ask, stunned when he nods his head in confirmation. Sincere apologies are important to you. You believe there are not enough of them in this world anymore, and his gentle almond eyes are too wholehearted and warm for you in this cold weather. Your heart feels full looking at him, and you curse at yourself in your head for being swayed like this.

“I also have a question… You mentioned you’re majoring in Studio Art and I was wondering if, maybe, you could let me into one of the studios after a class this week? I’ve been needing a quiet place to work since my house has been busy lately.” One of the hands that was in Renjun’s pocket moves to matte down his sideburns while he glances at his shoes. “Was that too forward? Sorry, I just know that you can’t get into a studio without a passcode and you’re the only person I know who’s in Studio Art.” Renjun explains after you stare for a while, blinking at him.

“You’re an artist?” You finally ask, Renjun giving you a weak ‘yeah’ in response. A part of you wants to say no, that it’ll be weird to do something like this for him when you’ve only known him for less than 2 weeks and up until this point, you’ve only been in a worker-client relationship. However, you’re curious about what he’s like outside of this setting, especially what he’s like when his father has no possibility of appearing, since that seems to be the factor that turns his mood up or down.

“Sure. Come by studio 3 after 6pm on Wednesday and I’ll let you in, but... I heard Mr. Lee already scheduled a game for next weekend?” Renjun nods, “Then in return, you can win that game. It’s embarrassing always being on the losing team.” You smile playfully at the end to let him know you’re only joking.

“Deal.” Renjun sends a smile back of the same caliber, holding out a hand to shake with yours. If you thought you were affected by Renjun’s nice presence, his hand in yours sends you into another realm. His touch is warm from staying indoors and from keeping his hands in his pockets, and they contrast to your cold skin. He sucks in a breath through his teeth when your hands connect, turning your hand in his grip to look at your knuckles. “Are you sure you’re not cold? Your hands are freezing.”

“I’ll be okay. I just don’t have any good gloves to wear while working.” He huffs, small traces of white smoke leaves his mouth as he digs through his pockets.

“Wear these.” He replaces his hand in yours with a pair of his own gloves, “Your hands are precious, they shouldn’t be freezing.” Before Renjun can get embarrassed by his own words, he shoves his hands back into his pockets and turns on his heel, walking away, “I’ll see you on Wednesday!”

A knock on the studio doors shakes you away from staring at your painting, making you turn to look at who it is. Renjun peaks through the small window and waves when you make eye contact. You get up to open the door, almost forgetting that today is the day you agreed to let Renjun into your studio.

… Okay, that’s a lie. You definitely remembered that you’re supposed to meet Renjun, but you keep trying to convince yourself that you’re not excited about seeing him outside of that stuffy country club.

“Hey, sorry if I startled you.” Is the first thing he says when you open the door. He’s dressed in slacks, a dress shirt with a sweater over it, and a long coat over that. His nose and cheeks are slightly red from the rough wind outside and his supplies are clutched to his chest.

“Oh, you’re fine. I was just deep in thought.” Something about the studio makes both of you speak in hushed tones. No one else is here, but you feel the need to maintain the peace and quiet the room naturally holds. You and Renjun make your way to where you’re set up, he puts his things down on an easel to your left and takes off his coat, watching you from his peripheral vision.

Those uniforms they make you wear at work are just for show, Renjun knows that well, but that doesn’t stop him from appreciating you in the tight vest and little skirt. However right now, he likes your laid back look consisting of loose jeans and a layered shirt, he thinks it matches you.

“I was going to leave when you got here, but I think I’ll just finish this and head out.” You comment, aimlessly waving at your project.

“Please, stay as long as you need to. This is your studio, I don’t want to kick you out.” He laughs and licks his bottom lip. It’s breathtaking how innocent and nice his smile looks on his face. His eyes scrunch together to form laugh lines and his cheeks rise, he truly looks pretty when he smiles. You think this is the first time you’ve seen him like this.

You mumble back with a mixture of words that probably didn’t make sense and turn back to your work, leaving the room to continue with its peacefulness and quiet. However, Renjun’s presence next to you is too big to ignore. There are so many things you want to know about him and you have no excuse as to why you’re so curious.

“How about a game while we work?” You suggest.

“Sure… How about 20 questions?” It’s like he read your mind, so you smile and nod at his idea.

“You can go first.” You suggest.

“Okay, uh… Why do you work at a golf course if you’re majoring in Studio Art? Shouldn’t you be working at a, I don’t know, museum?” The question catches you off guard and Renjun notices how you stop painting, your brush and your hand floating in the air as you think, “Oh, sorry, is that too personal?”

“No, no… It’s just, normally, the first question people ask in a game of 20 questions is something like ‘what’s your favorite color’ or ‘what’s your sign’.” Renjun lets out a choked and embarrassed laugh, ducking his head down to look away from you. You can tell he’s about to change his question, so you quickly go back to painting and speak before he can.

“I did apply to work at several museums. I didn’t get any jobs, so I had to look elsewhere and Augusta was hiring. I know it’s not very fitting, but it makes good money and rich people know my name, even if it’s for just a few hours.” Renjun nods at your answer as if he could ever understand the idea of being poor, but the insight into your decision brings a fact to light that Renjun wasn’t 100% aware of before: you’re not like him, you need money.

“Don’t you hate the way people look at you there?” The words tumble out of Renjun’s lips faster than he can process the weight they carry. He turns to face you with guilt pooling in his eyes and his mouth opening and closing to find some words to correct the situation.

“No, I don’t like it.” You surprise him with your quick response, “But people like you don’t understand what it’s like to live paycheck to paycheck, to have to worry about how to pay the bills every month for years on end, always on your toes about money. I bet you think I’m cheap and—”

“No.” Renjun cuts you off promptly before you can continue, “Don’t make me into a jerk. I’m not like that. But the fact that that is the first thing you thought of worries me.” Your eyes widen at that, prompting him to elaborate. “Doesn’t that mean that’s how you think of yourself? Maybe not on the outside, but subconsciously. Sure, I won’t ever be able to understand how you live, but I wish you would not look at yourself as cheap and think of yourself as… beautiful.” Renjun lets the last words linger on his tongue, saying it quietly as if to not startle you.

You stare at him, your paintbrush resting in your hand and your back slouched as you watch him watch you. This is not the type of conversation you thought you’d be having with Renjun tonight, but you have to admit he makes a point. Eventually, you turn to your painting and stare at it some more, making Renjun turn and continue his own work.

“Ah, I asked two questions in a row.” He suddenly breaks the tense atmosphere, making you sigh as you remember you’re just playing a game, “You can ask two questions.”

He allows and relaxes when he sees you go back to painting.

“If you like to draw, why are you a business major?” Now it’s Renjun’s turn to freeze. Maybe if he did ask what your favorite color was he wouldn’t have had to endure this question from you, but he feels like he should answer it since it’s of equal weight to the one he asked you.

“It wasn’t my choice. I will most likely take my father’s place in his company and I need to at least know the basics before that happens.” You nod slowly. He looks so calm when he’s focused on drawing, but it’s not the same calm that you see on his face when he’s playing golf. You turn away before you get caught staring.

“Is that why your mood always changes when your dad is around?”

“Is it that obvious…” He trails off and you nod, “I can’t believe I’m about to say this out loud, but… It’s like everytime I’m around him, or at his office, or at home, my mind goes blank. I don’t feel like talking or thinking at all.” As he speaks, he sets down his utensils and turns to you, making continuous eye contact as he explains. You find yourself feeling comfortable at how easily he’s talking to you about such a deep subject.

“It sounds like… you’re angry.” You turned to face him now too, your paintbrush settled onto your canvas and your full attention on him, “My dad is like that. He gets so angry sometimes that he’s calm. No yelling or fighting, just silence. That’s how I know I messed up when he gets like that.” You nod, remembering all the times he’s been calmly mad at you.

“I don’t know… It’s confusing to me.” He straightens his back and stares at your foot as it moves around aimlessly. “What do I do?” He asks into the air, as if his pencil would suddenly start talking to him like a therapist.

“Just do what makes you happy.” Renjun’s glance over at you makes a smile pull at your lips, “I know it’s easier said than done. But you already know what it is that’ll make you happy, and that’s half of the battle. Why bottle it up?”

Renjun doesn’t know how he’ll ever get the courage to tell his father these things, but the way you’re looking at him as if he can do anything, he starts to feel tingles of confidence trickle into him.

“Oh, and why did you pick me to be your caddie this past weekend?”

“Well…” Renjun plays with his pencil. What is he supposed to say? He doesn’t want you to carry around his father’s heavy golf clubs? He doesn’t like the way his father touches you and gets jealous over it for some unknown reason? Yeah, he’s not going to say.

“Just because… I wanted you next to me.” The way he says it makes it sound so simple and true, but your heart drops to your stomach and springs back up going at 100 miles per hour. You can barely stop your hand from shaking as you pick up your brush, and it’s almost like you can’t see in front of you from the thrill of his words.

“Hey,” Renjun suddenly drops his pencil and turns to you, looking a bit confused and slightly upset, “Didn’t you ask three questions?”

“We’re letting the Lees win again today.” Renjun is in the middle of pulling up the zipper of his jacket when his father drops the news. Renjun’s footsteps stutter slightly at his father’s words and he stops walking next to the older man.

“Again?” He asks as he already thinks up an apology to tell you later when he loses.

“Yes, I need Mr. Lee to be happy when I bring up the new contract to him later in the sauna.” Renjun sighs and continues to walk next to his father. It’s the next weekend, and the third Lee vs. Huang game is starting in just a few minutes.

Renjun won’t lie, purposefully losing to his best friend and his dad every week is not the greatest stroke to Renjun’s ego, especially since Jeno won’t let it down around his other friends.

“Oh, I’ve been meaning to ask you,” Lijun swivels on his heel to look at his son, “Have you been requesting for ___ to be your caddie?”

The questions stuns Renjun, making it hard to answer so his father takes it as a yes.

“Well stop it. Dad wants to have some fun.” He claps a hand on Renjun’s back and  smiles. In the past, Renjun would’ve just rolled his eyes and let his father do whatever he wants, but this time his blood boils. He feels true anger when his father struts away with the intentions of doing whatever he wants to someone Renjun cares about. He can barely move his feet after the old man, his mind cloudy as everyone makes it to the golf carts.

“Let’s have a good game today, Mr. Huang, don’t make it too easy to beat you.” Mr. Lee jokes around and the two old men laugh as they settle into their own golf carts. Renjun walks up to his cart and you wave to him, the white gloves he gave you last week snugly on your hands. Renjun thinks his anger is what spurs him into doing what he does next.

He steps close to you, leaning into your ear and wrapping his hand around your covered ones with his thumb rubbing on your exposed wrist, “Keep these on for me, babe. I don’t want you to be cold.”

The amount of jaws that drops after Renjun’s words makes him bite down his smirk and slide into the front seat of the golf cart, pretending to not see the daggers his father is  throwing at him with his eyes.

Your heart beats so quickly and loudly you’re sure Kara can hear it next to you if she wasn’t busy huffing about what Renjun just did. Sitting in the back seat of the golf cart, you watch the back of Renjun’s head on the way to the first hole. What got into Renjun? Why did he all of a sudden call you ‘babe’ and get so close? Not that you’re opposed to it, you’re just shocked.

The game begins once you reach the first hole, and the Huang’s put up a good fight throughout the entire game, keeping the Lees on their toes and the score sheet even. Everytime Renjun comes back from a shot, you smile at him and tell him good job, which earns you a pat on the back from him that warms you up from the inside out.

Renjun can tell his father is getting more and more annoyed with him; how Renjun is keeping you as far from his father as he possibly can, the gentle touches on your waist that you welcome wholeheartedly compared to the ones Mr. Huang would lay on you before. He likes how angry his father gets, especially knowing that he can’t do anything about it right now. Not to mention, you seem to be enjoying Renjun’s attention, which just adds to his confidence.

Now, your group arrives at the last hole of the game. The Lees step up and swing, setting their total score to 357. All Renjun and his father have to do is move the ball around a bit more to get their score to be higher and the Lees will win the game. Mr. Huang is up first, acting clumsy so that the ball doesn’t make it into the hole and brings the game to Renjun.

As he sets up his posture, his hands suddenly go stiff. This shot is so easy to make, he has made this exact hole several times. He breathes in and out deeply, deciding on if he should throw the game like his father said he should, or give his one last ‘fuck you’ to his Dad.

He glances at you and makes eye contact; you nod your head and smile a bit as if to say ‘go ahead, we all know you can do this.’ Renjun then grips his golf club and swings it back to effortlessly hit the golf ball, rolling it along the green and perfectly into the hole.

You and the other caddies clap for the perfectly executed shot and Jeno and his father come up to Renjun to shake hands. They don’t look upset, instead they look pretty happy for Renjun. However, Renjun’s father is deathly silent, not even congratulating Renjun on his win. Renjun wasn’t expecting a whole ceremony for him, but it does feel nice to put his father down a peg or two today, and that’s the thought that fills Renjun’s head as everyone rides back to the country club.

While getting out of the golf cart, Renjun attempts to turn back to you but is promptly pulled away by the back of his jacket by his father. Renjun yelps and pulls away, but that doesn’t stop Lijun from grabbing onto his son’s arm instead and pulling him inside.

“What was that? I specifically told you to lose the game and you did the exact opposite. How am I supposed to talk to Mr. Lee now?” Renjun’s father fumes, his low voice belting out into the corridor and making some of the passing staff turn their heads.

“That’s not my problem.” Renjun shrugs and his father stops shaking, stepping closer to his son.

“Excuse me?” He asks with menace dripping from his tongue.

“I said, that’s not my problem.” Renjun is fired up. He doesn’t see a way out of this now, no way his behavior is being excused, so might as well go all in.

“You did it for that caddie, ___, right?” His father squints his eyes and turns his head slightly. When Renjun doesn’t answer, Lijun laughs in his face, “It looks like I’m right.”

“What?” Renjun asks dumbly.

“It’s okay. You’re just a boy and you can make some mistakes over a girl, we’ve all been there once or twice.” Lijun fixes Renjun’s jacket and pats his shoulder, his angry disposition turning passive. “Besides, you can’t do much for that girl anyway. Is a ball in a hole really all she deserves?”

“I won the game because I could. I won it because that’s what I wanted.” Renjun states, his blood beginning to boil once again when his father says he doesn’t deserve you. What is he thinking? Does he actually think he has a chance with you? He can keep dreaming.

“We can’t always do whatever we want. There are consequences we have to face for doing whatever we want. Are you ready to face the consequences?” At the question, Renjun is reminded about the words you told him Wednesday night.

‘Just do what makes you happy,’ Those simple words are so hard to turn into reality. Renjun wants to be happy so bad. He wants to be away from this man and he wants to be closer to you. The consequences? Sure, he’ll deal with it all if it means he can stop living in the personal hell his father set up for him. Renjun pushes his father away a bit and steps out of the trap his father pushed him into, making Lijun’s eyes widen.

“Yeah, I’m ready.” Renjun says and turns around, walking back towards the exit of the building.

“Hey, where are you going?” His father shouts after him.

“To do the thing that I want to do the most.” He yells back and walks around the corner, out of sight from his father. Renjun practically runs through the hallways to get back outside and run to you, but you surprise him by greeting him by the saunas. He stops in his steps and you smile as you walk up to him.

“Hey, I just wanted to tell you that you did really well today. I know I said I wanted you to win last week, but I didn’t think you’d actually do it.” You laugh.

“Thanks.” Renjun simply says, afraid of what else could come out if he keeps talking.

“Oh, I also want to give you these back.” You dig out Renjun’s gloves from your pocket, holding them out. This is it. This is the moment Renjun will start to do whatever makes him happy, whatever he wants.

And what he wants right now is you.

He quickly takes the gloves and then tightly grips the wrist of your outstretched hand, leading you down the hallway and around some corner. He hears you exclaim a small ‘woah’ but you let him guide you into a sauna, the door closing tightly behind both of you.

There’s no one else in the room, just the stuffy steam that floats in the small space between you two. Renjun has a tight grip on the gloves you gave back to him and his other hand runs through his hair and messes up the perfect form it held.

“Tell me to stop.” He demands, looking straight into your eyes.

“What?”

“Tell me to stop right now.” He takes a step forward, his eyes full to the brim with lust and his hands shaking with how much he’s holding himself together. You’ve barely been in the room for a minute, but your clothes are already sticking to you from the intense heat.

“I don’t understand,” You reply back as he keeps moving toward you. You take small steps back in return, “I don’t know what I’m stopping you from.” Half of you is playing dumb right now; you know what Renjun wants from you just by the look in his eyes. The other half just wants to hear him say it himself

“I’ll fuck you the way you deserve. Right here, right now.” Renjun’s voice is too angelic to say such nasty words, but he growls them out like he’s a tainted angel. You’re pressed against the wooden wall of the sauna now, Renjun just a step away. You lean into him slightly and rip the gloves out of his hand to throw them to the side.

“Do it.”

It’s all the permission Renjun needs to feverishly connect his lips to yours.

The action is so sudden, you don’t remember how Renjun got close to you so quickly. Despite his forcefulness before, his lips melt into you like chocolate melting over a fire, so hot and delicious that you just want more. His hands hold the sides of your face, pushing back your hair and his body pushing you back into the wall.

He sucks on your bottom lip, softly biting afterwards and making you let out a whimper, and then a moan when his thigh pushes between your legs and further presses you against the wall. Amidst the kissing, you find the zipper of his expensive jacket, unzip it, and pull the piece of clothing off. Afterwards, you pull his shirt off and break the kiss while you’re at it.

“I’ve been thinking about you in this skirt since….” Renjun hums at the thought, his hand sliding up your bare thighs and under your skirt, then he grips your ass and brings your core down onto his thigh, the friction enough to have you letting out a strangled moan.

“Since the day I first saw you.” He finally whispers and connects your lips once again. His hand on your ass doesn’t move, his other hand is placed on your waist as he helps you ride the rough material of his pants. Renjun can only watch your reactions; the way your head lolls back into the wall and your eyes screw shut, holding onto Renjun’s shoulders tight enough he’s sure there will be marks afterwards.

“Fuck— Renjun, don’t stop, please.” He’s mesmerized, absolutely addicted to how you look and sound right now, and it’s all because of him. The thought spurs him along, he removes your jacket and you blindly help him in removing your top and bra. You must look like a mess right now, especially since you’re coming close to your climax just by Renjun’s touch and his thigh. Not to mention the sweat dripping down both of you, a glistening sheen coating your skin that makes Renjun let out a low growl before he leans down and takes one of your nipples in his mouth.

He sucks and swirls his tongue, and you can’t help but moan his name again, digging your fingers into his blonde hair and tugging. Renjun moves from your chest downward, not letting an inch of your stomach and hips go past him without a kiss and a nibble, leaving you breathing heavily. He makes his way down to his knees and folds your skirt up, glancing at  you from his position.

“You don’t wear anything under here except your panties?” You nod, your head stuttering as Renjun applies pressure with his thumb over your slick hole, a wet spot already there to greet him.

“You’re so fucking dirty, baby.” He groans and leans in to swipe his tongue over your center making you shake as a response. He slides your underwear down and throws it somewhere to the side, catching the sigh of your arousal dripping down your thigh. His intense stare makes you shake him, embarrassment crawling over you at how he’s not reacting.

“Are you shy?” You whine, not really answering his question. “You don’t need to be. You’re beautiful.” The softness from his voice contradicts his more dominating tone from before, but you don’t have time to think about it before he dives in. You sigh in content when the pressure in between your hips caused by Renjun turns into pure pleasure. His tongue laps at your essence and his lips suck on your clit, you can tell he’s trying to find what exactly will make you tick.

When Renjun slides a finger into your hole unexpectedly, you jump and whimper a bit but the feeling of him sliding in and out along with his tongue circling and sucking on your clit makes a knot form in the pit of your stomach, tightening up your muscles and making your eyes roll back.

“Right there. Oh my god, right there…” You keep repeating, praying that Renjun treats you good and let’s you come. He adds another finger and you gasp, starting to move your hips in rhythm to his hand, holding onto his shoulders for more stability. He glances up at you, watching your eyes screw shut and your tits bounce as you use his hand to get yourself off. Renjun hums against you, and you can almost feel the ecstasy of coming undone, until Renjun pulls away. You groan, feeling like crying when your orgasm fades.

“Hey..” You whine, pouting when Renjun stands back up and licks your juices off of his lips. He has some on his chin and you bring your hand up to wipe it away, Renjun stopping your hand and kissing the wetness away, then kissing up your arm and to your shoulder, up your neck and to your ear. He tugs at your earlobe, licking the skin under it and biting some more, his hands sliding up your waist at playing with your nipples, pinching a little to get whimpers out of you and making your hips buck up, ready to continue where Renjun left you at.

That’s when you feel the hardness in his pants; it must be painful. That’s why you understand his next words, whispered into the shell of your ear between kisses: “You’re not coming until I’m in you, got it?”

You nod quickly, attaching your hands to Renjun’s zipper and button, undoing them and sliding down his pants.

“But, you’re gonna need to do something for me…” He says, helping you pull down his boxers, watching his angry, red length swing out. You gasp, feeling a bit bad that you just left Renjun like this to eat you out, but you’re sure you can make up to him now.

“What is it? I’ll do it.” Your hands run over Renjun’s sweaty shoulders, moving away some longer hair in the back of his head that’s sticking against his neck.

“You’re gonna have to yell my name. I need you to let everyone know who’s doing this to you— who’s making you feel good, okay?” Your breath gets caught in your throat as the words tumble out of his lips. He tilts his voice higher at the end of every phrase to make him sound innocent, but you’re not fooled.

“There’s people outside…” You mumble back, sending a glance at the door. You know there are several staff and customers walking along the hallways outside. What will they think if they hear you screaming Renjun’s name? Not to talk about what will happen to your job.

Those thoughts melt away when Renjun’s dick slides between your folds slowly, making you turn your gaze back to him and hold on tight as he lubricates himself over your wetness, holding onto your hips so that you don’t move and take anymore than what he’s giving you.

“That’s exactly why I want you to scream. Can you do that for me?” He asks and you nod frantically, doing almost anything to get his dick inside you. You’re not sure what’s going to happen once you step out of this room, but at least you know Renjun is going to give you the best fuck you’ve had in a while, and you know it’ll be worth it for what’s to come after all this.

“Finally…” You moan when Renjun’s length disappears into you inch by inch, going slow as to not hurt you. He sucks in a breath through his teeth as he bottoms out, picking up your thigh to hang it over his hip and wrapping his other arm around your waist to keep you close. You hold onto him, adjusting as he kisses your lips sweetly and carefully, and waits to move his throbbing cock through your velvety walls.

“Go, Renjun, move….” You whisper, and he looks at you confused.

“What was that? I didn’t hear you.” He asks, cocking his head.

“Please, move.” You say louder, but he shakes his head and purses his lips as if he still can’t understand.

“I said, fuck me, Renjun. Please, can you fuck me already?” You all but scream out, your voice almost cracking at how whiny you sound. No doubt, if someone passed by outside they would’ve heard you. The thought makes you tense up, but it feels so good to be able to yell out what you want.

“Your wish, baby.” Renjun mutters before he starts rocking into you. You both groan at the sensation, Renjun’s hips speeding up as he gains more momentum. His lips don’t leave yours, kissing you into oblivion while his dick stuffs you. He has you against the wall, his hips powering away and you don’t dare to disturb him, realizing he’s burning all of his anger away as well.

“Yes, Renjun, fuck me just like that…'' You moan loudly to spur him on, now not really caring about who’s outside or who hears you, just wanting Renjun to know you love how rough he’s going. He presses you higher up the wall and pulls your legs apart more, hitting a new angle that literally makes you scream out, tears mixing with the sweat on your face as he relentlessly pumps into you.

There are so many things going on at the same time. Your hard nipples and soft breasts rubbing against Renjun’s chest, making goosebumps rise on his arms. Your hot and sweaty bodies are basically sliding against each other. The clapping of his hips against yours no doubt attracts attention from outside along with your screams and Renjun’s grunts continuously get louder as you both get closer to the climax.

“I’m gonna come… Renjun, come in me…” You’re already fucked out, the words barely leaving your lips coherently, but Renjun understands and moves his finger down to find your clit, circling his thumb fast and steady, just like everything else he’s doing.

“C’mon come on my cock, babe. Let it out, I wanna hear it.” And just like that, you unwind and scream his name as your orgasm washes over and takes control, making you claw onto any part of Renjun that you can reach. Renjun feels your walls deliciously convulse around him and with a few more sloppy thrusts, he comes into you and fills you up, staying wrapped up in you as you both calm down.

Renjun presses small kisses wherever he feels like as your breathing settles down, his softness and the caring way he rubs at your sides and hips where he was holding so hard that you’re sure to have bruises makes you smile hazily.

“___… I don’t regret any of this.” He whispers into your skin, leaning back to look at you properly. “Do you?”

“No.” You answer truthfully, making his eyes shine and you both smile dumbly, your sticking bodies relaxing. The happy moment doesn’t last long before there’s a knock on the door to the sauna. You and Renjun stiffen up as you glance at the door, waiting for whoever it is to announce themselves.

“Renjun? Son?” Your heart drops to your stomach and you cover your mouth at the voice of Renjun’s father on the other side of the door, but when you turn to Renjun, he doesn’t seem bothered. He sends a smile at you and moves some hair from your face before answering.

“Occupied, go somewhere else. We’re busy.”

[luminnara]

Goddamn, Shit-Sucking Vampires | Poly!Lost Boys x OC Chapter 13 (18+ NSFW)

Vera is an unusually vicious bloodsucker who’s never stuck in one place for very long…until a mysterious feeling pulls her right to the murder capital of the world: Santa Carla, California. Now, she needs to figure out why exactly she’s there, where she fits in amongst the boardwalk’s nighttime denizens, and how to cope with her own personal vampire-related problems. Poly Lost Boys/OC, starts just before the movie *MULTI PART SERIES*

Ch 12 | Ch 13 | Ch 14

Also on AO3!

Tags:  @americancowgirl19 @ilikechocolatemilkh @siennanoelle01 @iloveslasher @sylum​

Warnings: NSFW, group sex, smoking, the usual vampire stuff 

(NSFW right off the bat so I just figured I’d put it all right under the cut lmfao)

Sex with her boys was always wild in some regard.

Vera had come to learn that much.

Her time in Santa Carla had taught her that they were all different, and her special, intimate nights with each of them were certainly unique…but they all had a few things in common, a few qualities that the four of them shared. They were all teeth and blood, even Dwayne, and they were all aggressive and possessive when they wanted to be, even when their only competition were other members of their own pack.

“D-David…” Vera moaned, her fingers gripping the sheets.

He hummed, his breath hot against her core as his tongue swept along the length of her lips. When he reached her clit, he sucked on it, earning a whine and then a squeal when he bit down.

“David!”

He pressed a kiss against it before trailing his lips towards her inner thigh, moving slowly, agonizingly slowly as she shivered and tried to tug at his hair to pull him back down.

“Patience, kitten.” He chuckled, nipping at her flesh. “Gotta savor the moment while I’ve got you to myself…”

Vera’s eyes flickered to the doorway, where she was met with the hungry, starving faces of three absolutely desperate men.

Marko was trembling, hugging himself with one arm while he chewed on his thumb. Paul was breathing heavily, bracing himself with a hand on the door frame. Dwayne was watching with his eyes glued to her, dark and full of want. They were all moments away from snapping, she could tell, and when David glanced up and saw that he had lost her attention, he bit her thigh.

“What’d I tell you?” He growled, swiping his tongue over the wound as she yelped in surprise. “Look at me.”

“Quit bein’ selfish, David,” Paul growled from the doorway.

“What’re you gonna do about it?” David asked as he pressed a kiss against Vera’s skin.

Paul just grumbled, leaning his head back in frustration as he tried to reach down and shamelessly adjust his hard on.

“You better not fucking touch yourself, Paul.” David said.

Paul let out a disgusted whine and put his hands behind his back, watching as Vera bucked her hips against David’s mouth. It wasn’t fair. Why did David get to have all the fun while he was stuck standing in the doorway with a hard on? Maybe he should fucking do something about it. Maybe he should barge his way in and shove David out of the way and dive right between Vera’s thighs.

“Don’t even fucking think about it,” David growled, glancing up at him. “Wait your fuckin’ turn.”

“You’re taking too long!” Marko hissed. “C’mon, let us in. We know how to make her happy…”

“And you think I don’t?” David chuckled, sinking a finger between Vera’s folds. He was rewarded with a loud moan, her fingers moving to tangle in his hair and claw at his shoulders as she writhed. “Sounds like she likes it…”

“M-more,” she gasped as he added another.

David leaned his head in and nipped at her clit, earning another moan. The air was heavy with the scent of her arousal, growing thicker as he worked his fingers in and out of her. Marko was shaking with the effort of holding himself back, gnawing at his thumb as he tried not to slip past Paul and pounce on their mate. His fangs were long, piercing his lower lip as it quivered, his eyes turning yellow as whatever control he was clinging to began eroding away. As he watched Vera’s back arch off of the bed, and saw the beads of blood dripping down her thigh from David’s bite, and he felt like he was only seconds away from totally losing it.

“That’s it,” David purred, coaxing an orgasm out of her. “Feels good, doesn’t it?”

“Y-yes!” She gasped, her thighs shaking as wetness pooled between her legs.

David smirked. He loved that he had the ability to completely unravel someone like her. Out on the streets, she was vicious and bloodthirsty, always on a pedestal above everyone else around her. Between the sheets, though, she was his, a body for him to play with, a willing participant in whatever little games he felt like winning that night. Not that she didn’t also get to win, of course; he would always make sure she came first. He was a selfish bastard, but he wasn’t a total asshole.

Besides…she was so delicious afterwards.

He pulled his fingers away, replacing them with his mouth. His tongue swept over her, lapping up every last drop of wetness as she slumped back against the mattress. She felt tired and peaceful, the stars in her vision fading away as she paused to come back down to earth. When he leaned back on his heels, David just looked down at her for a moment, appreciating the sight of her so blissed out.

But they weren’t done yet.

Not by a long shot.

He heard movement in the doorway and cocked his head towards it. Paul was bracing himself with a hand on the doorframe, claws digging into it as he glared at them with fierce yellow eyes. A guttural growl left his throat, and at the sound of it, Vera picked her head up. When she did, she saw that he was well on his way to totally vamping out, and Marko was close behind. She raised her arms, reaching for them, and Paul was on her in a flash, shoving David aside despite his sharp hiss.

And then, everything was a blur.

They were a flurry of teeth and lips, hands running over her flesh, squeezing at her tits and her ass whenever they could. They wanted to worship her. They wanted to taste her skin and lap up her blood as their fangs pierced her throat and her thighs. Dwayne settled in behind her, his lips on her neck as he pulled her back against his chest. Marko had one hand on her breast, kneading it as his mouth moved against hers in a deep, mind-melting kiss. Paul was on her other side, his teeth sinking into her chest as he greedily licked and sucked.

And David was still between her legs, appreciating her in the best way he knew how.

They all moved together somehow, and when one moved, another shifted to take his spot. Vera was hungry, her belly full of fire, and when she wound up on her hands and knees, she demanded that they do their goddamn jobs and please her.

And they did.

Dwayne tangled his hands in her hair, looking down at her with loving, hazy eyes as he fucked her throat. David held her hips as he thrusted his cock into her from behind, his fingers digging into her flesh and leaving bruises that faded just as quickly as they appeared. And when they were spent and done for the moment, Paul and Marko were quick to replace them, keeping Vera busy and keeping her happy.

And when they all had finally had enough, they collapsed in a pile, perfectly content to sleep there until nightfall.

-0-

“Paul, get off of me.”

The blond groaned and buried his face under Marko’s arm. “Five more minutes, David….”

“You have five more seconds before I kick your ass into next Wednesday.”

Paul let out a disgusted sound and slowly pushed himself up to sit on his knees, rubbing at his tired eyes. “Fine, I’m up.”

David let out a grunt and tucked his head into Vera’s neck, completely unwilling to fully rouse himself now that he was comfortable again. Paul rolled his eyes at the sight. Of course David was just being grumpy and not wanting to cuddle with anyone else…but why the hell was that his problem? The others didn’t have to deal with David. Marko and Dwayne were still sleeping soundly, and as Vera shifted and yawned, they seemed perfectly content to stay that way.

Typical.

“Good evening, sleepyhead,” Vera cooed, reaching out to place a hand on Paul’s thigh and give it a squeeze. She was laying on her back, hair splayed out over the pillow as she looked up at him, and even with that asshole David right there next to her, Paul thought she had to be just about the prettiest sight in the world.

He offered her an uncharacteristically gentle smile and took her hand in his, threading their fingers together. “Hey, baby. How’d you sleep?”

“Better than ever,” she smiled.

And that was the truth.

The longer she stayed with her boys, the better her sleep became. At first, she would wake up early, senses on high alert as she listened and waited for something, anything, to happen. She wasn’t used to being surrounded by other vampires while she snoozed, and being on her own had taught her that she needed to survive. Here, in Santa Carla, it was less about surviving, and more about actually living.

Metaphorically, of course.

After a late night of hot, heavy sex, Vera had passed out with the boys in a tangle of semi-clothed limbs. Too exhausted to fly up to their roost deeper in the cave, they had all opted to stay there in the hotel bed, even though it was a bit too small and they were a bit too cramped on it. But honestly, did that matter? They had slept in a puppy pile, not really caring whose head was on whose chest. All that mattered was that they were all there, they were all together and they were all safe and happy.

Paul seemed to like her answer and gave her a lazy nod, lips spread into that gorgeous smile that had a tendency to make her feel weak at the knees.

It was infectious, and she found herself returning it. “How about you?”

He gave a little shrug, and she appreciated how slow he was moving. For once, he wasn’t acting like an absolute tornado, he was just being. He was just Paul.  

“I always sleep good when I’m next to you,” he admitted, his voice a little deeper with sleep. He was still groggy, his movements slower than when he was fully awake and ready to get himself into trouble. “Wanna slip away and go for a walk? Sun should be down.”

For a second she just looked at him in surprise. Really? A walk? She more expected him to be chomping at her neck and trying to get a quickie in before the others woke up, but…a walk on the beach sounded good, too. So she nodded and wiggled away from David as gently as possible, smoothing a thumb over his cheek when he grunted in protest. She grabbed some clothes and slipped into them while Paul found his pants, and then the two of them were off, hand in hand, Paul leading her through the main cavern and out into the night.

Vera was barefoot, and as they walked along right at the water’s edge, she felt her toes sinking into the sand. For a moment, she focused on it, taking advantage of Paul’s rare peacefulness to do some reflecting. She really hadn’t been in Santa Carla for very long, but it felt more like home than anywhere else in the world. This was it–she had finally found something worth sticking around for. She never would have guessed that a pack of wild boys would be the thing to domesticate her, but she wasn’t about to complain. They were just that, a proper pack, and she was one of them. She was one of the Lost Boys.

“Does that make me a Lost Girl?” she wondered out loud.

Paul let out a laugh and looked down at her. “The hell you talkin’ about, baby?”

She glanced up at him. “Me. Am I a Lost Girl? You’re the Lost Boys, so…”

He thought for a moment and then cracked a grin. “Yeah…yeah, I like that! That sounds badass…think we should make you a jacket? Marko’s real good with that kinda shit, y’know? Bet he could come up with something super hot….”

Vera laughed lightly, and the two fell into a comfortable silence for a few minutes before she spoke again. “I’m not used to this from you. This is nice.”

“What is?” he asked, tearing his eyes away from the dark horizon to look down at her.

“This. Just…enjoying a walk with you.”

“Oh.” his eyes wandered back towards the sea again. “Sometimes I do this when I wanna think. Tough to get away from the others, though.”

She kept her gaze focused on him, even when he wasn’t returning it. She was getting curious about this side of him, now. “What do you think about when you come out here alone?”

He shrugged. “Whatever. Life, I guess. What’d you talk with Star about last night?”

Vera hesitated for a moment as she recalled their conversation. How much should she tell him? He hadn’t seemed as angry as David had, but that didn’t mean he needed to know everything… but keeping information from any of the boys felt wrong, and Vera didn’t want to have to play any stupid games or have to watch her own back when it came to them. And besides, David was allowing Star to live, so there couldn’t be any harm in talking about it…right?

“I tried to get her to see that she can’t think like a human anymore,” she finally said.

“...Never really thought about it like that.” Paul half-frowned. “Guess it’s been a while, huh?”

Vera chuckled quietly. “Longer for me. I tried to tell her that humans are just food for us, and she has to stop acting like she’s still one of them…then we got into morality, and heaven and hell. Some deep shit.”

Paul snorted. “Who cares about goin’ to hell? Shit, your daddy practically owns it, so I think we’re in pretty good standing…”

“Shut up,” Vera laughed, nudging him with her shoulder and nearly pushing him into the water. “I told her I don’t worry about it…but I guess I do wonder sometimes. You know?”

“Yeah, I know.” He finally looked down at her again. “Doesn’t mean I let it get to me, though. That shit’s no fun. I mean, even when I was human all I wanted was to have fun, so I’m sure as shit not gonna go around bein’ miserable all night now.”

Vera gave him a curious look, studying his face. “What were you like, as a human?”

“Aw, you wanna hear about lil ol’ me?” He slung his arm over her shoulders as they meandered down the beach, and Vera noticed that he was beginning to act more like his usual self. “I was boppin’ around, you know…just doing my thing. Entertaining the ladies, gaining their favor, making some cash…”

“Paul…don’t tell me you were a gigolo.”

He laughed loudly, spinning her around to face him. “Sure was, baby! I loved those rich old ladies, and they loved me right back. It helps that I was a great dancer.”

“If I recall correctly, high society was a little more demanding back in your day, wasn’t it?” She grinned, leaning into him with a hand on his chest. “I’ve never once seen you have good manners. I just can’t imagine you being so prim and proper that those rich old ladies kept you around.”

“What can I say? I’m a charmer.” He flashed her an award winning, heart melting smile.

“Now that is definitely true,” she sighed, leaning her cheek against his chest as she looked up at him.

“Damn, baby…you really know how to make a guy fall in love with you, huh?” He asked.

And then he kissed her, and it was slow and sweet with a hint of that unbridled Paul energy behind it. His arms were tight around her, holding her close, and by the time they broke away from each other, she was sure he was digging his fingers in hard enough to leave a few brief bruises on her hips.

“Alright, lovebirds.” A voice said from behind her. “Ready to take this show on the road? I’m hungry.”

“You always have the worst timing, David,” Paul sighed.

Vera turned to see David and the others standing there, fully clothed, smirks on their faces. Paul hissed jealously as she left him to greet the rest of the boys, giving them each a good evening kiss before taking her boots from Marko.

“Thought you might want these,” he said. “Boardwalk isn’t exactly great on the toes.”

“Thank you, Angel,” She purred, pecking him on the cheek. “Where’s Star and Laddie?”

“Right here!”

She barely had time to turn around before Laddie was colliding with her midsection, rocketing into her like he was a missile. He wrapped his arms around her in a tight hug, and as she laughed and dropped her boots to return it, Vera caught sight of Star creeping up after him.

She was standing there with her shawl wrapped around herself, like usual, but she seemed…happier, maybe. A little more content, at least. Did that mean that their conversation had actually had a positive impact on her? Vera hoped so, because she really didn’t feel like having to do it again.

Laddie finally let go and she was free to pull her boots on, and then they were off on the bikes, roaring through the sand towards the boardwalk. Vera rode with Marko, Star sitting behind David where he could “keep an eye on her.” The other boys had laughed darkly when his thoughts betrayed his intentions to start looking for somebody to send Star after, and while Vera knew the girl wasn’t going to be very happy about it, part of her hoped that maybe she would end up enjoying the hunt. It was in her nature, after all. Maybe all she needed was a little push, and then she’d see that it wasn’t so bad after all…

“Come on, Laddie,” Star mumbled as they parked the bikes in their usual spot and hopped off.

Dwayne lifted Laddie off the back of his bike and set him down, ruffling his hair in the split second he had before the boy was bounding away to grab Star’s hand.

“Can we have some money?” She asked David.

He was pulling out a cigarette and paused to look at her. “Fresh outta cash, Star.”

She furrowed her brow angrily. “Are you serious?”

“I’m afraid so.”

“Then what are we supposed to do all night?”

“Go find something to get into.” He shrugged. “Go to one of those swap meets you like so much, I don’t care.”

She gave him a glare before leading Laddie away, grumbling to herself. As they left, Vera approached David, her arms folded over her chest as she gave him a look.

“Are you really out of money?” She asked skeptically.

He finally lit his cigarette and took a drag. “Does it matter?”

“You’re just mad still, aren’t you?”

“Mad about what, Princess?” He asked dryly.

She rolled her eyes. “And here I thought last night might’ve put you in a better mood…”

“I know it put me in a good mood!” Marko piped up.

David sighed. “I wasn’t exactly planning on having Star around much longer. Sorta went behind my back with that one, sweetheart.”

“I wasn’t behind anyone’s back,” Vera argued. “It’s like I told you last night. I just want one big, happy family now. Is that so much to ask?”

David snorted a laugh, exhaling smoke through his nose. “You’re starting to sound like Max.”

“Am I?”

“Totally.” Marko said, leaning back against the boardwalk railing. “He’s always going on about family.”

“He wanted perfect sons, but he got us instead,” Paul grimaced.

“I think he likes you guys,” Vera said. “If he didn’t, why keep you around?”

“Good point.” David said, sounding like he wanted to cut the conversation off before it could develop any further. “Hungry, sweetheart?”

“Not really more than usual,” Vera sighed. “I’d rather go do something.”

“Like what?” Marko asked, already turning to climb up the railing.

“Something I haven’t done yet,” She craned her neck to look out towards the rides and games. She really hadn’t gotten to do very many of them, what with most of her time being spent getting hot and heavy with the boys, and she wanted to finally explore their stomping ground some more.

What to do, though? She could make them win her things at the games, but they were practically guaranteed a win, and that took some of the fun out of it unless she really wanted one of the prizes. Maybe there was a concert they could go listen to..? But then she would be all packed in with a bunch of blood bags, and that would defeat the whole point of not eating yet. As her eyes roamed over the roller coaster and the rest of the boardwalk, she began to grow frustrated with her own indecisiveness.

And then, she saw it. The most beautiful beacon in the night that she could possibly ask for.

“Hey, is that a carousel?”

David followed her gaze, smirking when his eyes fell on the brightly-lit attraction. “Sure is.”

“Wanna go check it out?” Paul asked eagerly, ready to go do something finally. “There’s tons of shit to get into over there…”

“Yeah, I wanna go have some fun,” Marko groaned impatiently.

“Yes. Yes, I totally do.” Vera grinned as David took her hand, and soon, the five of them were off, cutting through the crowd towards the carousel.

As they got closer, she could see that it was busy, playing a cheerful carnival tune as the lights blinked and glowed and the horses rose up and down in a never ending loop. It was covered in humans, guys standing there while their girlfriends rode the horses, kids who were only out so late because it was summer and they didn’t have to go to school in the morning, the occasional tourist looking absolutely fascinated with the whole thing. Vera recognized the faces of a few Surf Nazis she had seen around, but she didn’t pay much attention to them—she had more important things to worry about, like hopping the barricade and lunging for a vacant horse the second she spotted it.

She sprang away from David, practically attacking the carousel in her mad dash for a steed. He and the boys were left staring after her in surprise, following her lead after a moment and hopping on behind her. They were too slow, though, sauntering their way over, and by the time they stepped on, Vera was already a good ways ahead of them, and they had a sea of people to wade through.

David strode forward with a smirk on his face. The carousel always put him in a good mood, and as the others followed, he could hear them yelling and laughing as they hung onto the poles and bounced around. It had been a while since any of them had been on the carousel, and Paul and Marko were especially glad to finally be back.

Especially now that they were surrounded with their favorite snacks.

There were rival gang members everywhere, a whole cluster of Surf Nazis just up ahead. Vera had managed to find a spot right next to them, but as she sat atop her horse and enjoyed the simplicity of the wind in her hair and the gentle rise and fall of the ride, she barely even noticed. She was pretty sure a couple of them were yelling at her, but if they thought she was paying any attention, they were even dumber than they looked.

David, meanwhile, was paying them plenty of attention.

The Surf Nazis irritated him to no end. They lurked around, putting up their graffiti everywhere and tagging shit as if it was theirs instead of his. The way he saw it, they needed a reminder that Santa Carla belonged to The Lost Boys, and even if they had no idea what they really were, they were going to listen to them.

Sitting on one of those little lovers’ benches, he spotted Greg and Shelly, two of the very few whose names he actually knew. Greg was a big guy with a nasty streak that David had personally witnessed plenty of times, and Shelly was a pretty blonde who hung out with her meathead boyfriend constantly. Paul had been whining about wanting to eat her for the longest time, but before he could, Vera had shown up and turned their worlds upside down. Now, they could get back to their usual business of running their boardwalk, and at that moment, that meant picking a fight.

As he came up behind the bench, David glanced towards Vera. The sight of her there, so happy and carefree, was something he could drink in for hours—but, more importantly, she was distracted, and he was free to lean down, grab Shelly’s chin in his hand, and wait for Greg to go ballistic.

And, right on cue, he totally did.

“The fuck do you think you’re doin’?” He snarled, jumping up from his seat and yanking Shelly back. “One bitch not enough for the four of ya? Tryin’ to take my girl, too?”

David stepped back with a smirk, Dwayne immediately stepping in front of him like a shield.

Greg grabbed him by the front of the jacket, trying to shove him to the side. “Get outta the way, you big fuckin’ Ind—“

He was cut off as David slipped past Dwayne to push him back, Paul and Marko finding themselves both grappling with a couple of Greg’s cronies. It was chaos, the carousel erupting in shouts as fists flew and punches landed. By the time Vera turned around to finally see what the hell was going on, though, the quick scuffle was over—

Because their old pal Vernon the security guard had David by the throat.

“Alright, alright!” Vernon shouted, pressing his baton against David’s windpipe as he stood behind him. “That’s enough!”

Vera was livid.

The rest of the brawlers fell still, and she could see the way the boys were watching David. They were waiting for a sign that he was actually in trouble and not just uncomfortable, and while none came, because, honestly, he was fine, Vera was pissed. Her grip tightened on the gilded pole her horse resided on, knuckles going white as she held herself still. She could make Vernon let go of David. It would be easy. She could tear his arms off right there if she really wanted to, and so could David.

But he wouldn’t, so she wouldn’t.

“I thought I told you to stay off the boardwalk.” Vernon said, glaring at the Surf Nazis.

David sneered at Greg, almost managing a nasty laugh with the limited air that Vernon was allowing him to have. He hadn’t really expected Vern to come in and save the day like that, but as he was finally released, David was almost appreciative. The Surf Nazis, officially kicked off their boardwalk? That was like a dream come true.

“That goes for you too.” Vernon growled. “Off the boardwalk.”

David glanced up at him angrily, that quick, hot rage he was so good at suddenly bubbling up inside of him. The others could all feel it, and Marko had to bite his thumb to keep himself from grinning like a madman when David’s anger turned murderous.

“Alright, boys,” he said, gaze lingering on the security guard. “You heard Vernon. Let’s go.”

We’ll visit him later.

Dwayne let out a low chuckle and Marko smirked as they heard David in their heads. Vernon had been a thorn in their side for a long time, and the thought of finally getting rid of him so that they could do whatever they wanted was sublime.

Vera, on the other hand, was doing her best to pretend she wasn’t involved. Seriously…she had just gotten there! Why the hell should she be lumped in with the rest of them when all she wanted to do was enjoy a nice, relaxing carousel ride? Even as the bell rang and it came to a stop, she kept still, eyes trained forward. Maybe she would be able to stay without causing a scene. Maybe nobody would notice if she just didn’t move. Maybe—

“You. Girl. You too.” Came Vernon’s disgruntled voice.

She bristled.

He can’t talk to you like that, Dwayne growled in her head.

Easy. David warned as he tossed his head for Vera to hop down and follow them off of the carousel. We’ll get our chance for some fun.

Vera huffed impatiently as she joined the boys, Dwayne putting a possessive arm around her waist as he gave Greg and Vernon one last angry glare.

I want those Surf Nazis, too. Paul thought, lip raised in a snarl cleverly disguised as a grin.

One thing at a time. David smirked as they hopped the barricade, the crowd parting for them. One thing at a time.

[milenadaniels]

Actually, Truly, 14k - Buck/Eddie, Helena POV, post-s4 (AO3)

Isabel calls to tell them Eddie's been shot on a Thursday afternoon and by lunch on Friday Helena and Ramon are landing at LAX. When they land, they learn Eddie's already home recovering and has been for two weeks.

----

Or, Helena (and Ramon) tries to find a way back into Eddie's life and doesn't know what to make of finding Buck around every corner she turns.

Isabel calls on a Thursday afternoon and by lunch on Friday Helena and Ramon are landing at LAX. Their son’s been shot, again, in the line of duty. But this time, instead of being thousands of miles away and out of reach, he’s just a short plane ride away.

Isabel insists they come to her house before going to the hospital but she doesn’t blame COVID protocols for keeping them away from the hospital, so they spend the car ride over imagining the worst.

A complication with surgery.

Permanent damage.

A coma.

The news they receive is that Eddie’s fine, and he’s been home and recuperating for two weeks already.

Helena retreats to the living room while Ramon and his mother fight in the kitchen. They’re yelling in Spanish and for once she wishes she’d never learned.

“Escúchame, Ramon,” Isabel tries to interrupt. Listen to me.

The yelling continues because Ramon doesn’t listen. It’s not his strong suit. Nor is it Helena’s.

Helena paces the length of the living room and holds her phone in her hands, thumb over Eddie’s name in FaceTime, not pressing down.

Eddie’s been home for two weeks.

Isabel hadn’t told them for two weeks.

But Eddie hadn’t either.

They hadn’t seen him in person in nearly two years, and he hadn’t called them since their last fight over a month ago.

Still, Eddie was shot in the streets by a sniper and he didn’t call them.

Mom, listen...

The last time they spoke, it was a phone call, not a video chat, maybe because at that point just the sight of each others’ faces was enough to set them all off. In that phone call, Eddie spoke of a friend whose family was somehow worse off than their own, but who, miraculously, were finally making the effort to fix the broken ties between them in therapy.

“Mom, listen… I spent a long time being angry with Shannon instead of trying to reach out to her and now Christopher is never going to have her in his life again. I don’t want that with you,” Eddie said, his voice brusque but calm, measured. “I don’t want to grin and bear it when you call or when we visit. I want to be glad to pick up the phone, I want to be excited to see you all at Christmas, I want you to be part of our lives. But I can’t do that without you meeting me halfway.” He was resolute, but he was pleading too. “I don’t want to spend the next ten years of our lives like this.”

But the idea of therapy was anathema to the Diaz family and it took only Ramon’s dismissive scoff to reinforce her own distaste of the idea. They called Eddie back to say they had no intention of paying a stranger to tell them everything was their fault and he was blameless.

They didn’t get another call after that.

“— my son!” Ramon yells at Isabel in the kitchen.

“Because, mijo, when you come here, you don’t see your son! You don’t see him living here, growing, Christopher thriving! You don’t see how when you come up here you bring sadness and misery when you should bring joy and comfort.” The words are too close to what Eddie said for them not to have spoken about it together. “By the time I knew he was hurt, he was already out of surgery and doing well. If he wasn’t, I would have called immediately.”

“Oh bueno, so you’ll tell me my son is dying but not that he’s okay?”

“Ramon! Escúchame.” It’s not often that Helena gets to bear witness to the steel in Isabel’s voice, the one she passed down to both her kids. It’s in fine form today. “He was doing well, and had all the help he needed. As soon as things stabilized, I called you. Keep acting like a fool and see if I call you at all next time.”

“If you call? Are you —”

Mom, listen…

“Ramon!” Helena snaps, surprising them all.

“Ramon,” she repeats, more calmly this time. “Listen to her.”

The shock on Isabel’s face almost makes her smile, but her heart is too heavy to commit to it.

“Helena, two weeks she —”

“Our son was shot, and he didn’t tell us.” Helena says, her voice trembling. “Our son was shot, he could have died, and the last thing we would have told him is we weren’t willing to fight for him and Christopher. Weren’t willing to — what? — put our egos aside? Our pride? For one fucking minute to listen to him. To listen to what he needed.”

Ramon’s eyes widen and he hangs his head with a sigh.

Helena faces Isabel, her phone tucked in her palm against her stomach.

“What can we do? We’re listening.”

——————-

Ramon walks it off and Helena helps Isabel in the kitchen in exchange for a promise they’ll go over to Eddie’s for supper. She’s been making care packages for Eddie and Christopher since the shooting, and she’s working on a pasta sauce while Helena starts on her famous banana brown sugar bread — Eddie’s favourite.

“How is he, really?” she asks once her dish is tucked into the oven.

“As well as can be expected,” Isabel replies, throwing spices into the pot with an ease Helena never grew into. “He was tired for the first few days, but now it’s like a broken arm. Uncomfortable but not so painful.”

“How long is it supposed to take to heal?”

Isabel casts a suspicious eye her way as if she can anticipate the date of Helena’s return flight adjusting already, but answers, “they say 6 to 8 weeks. It’s for the bone to heal, mostly, in his back. The rest should be sooner.”

Helena broke her wrist years ago, when the kids were nearly teenagers, and it was three months of hell trying to manage a household one handed while Ramon spent most of that time travelling across Texas.

Who’s helping him? Is Carla back in the picture? Is she working overtime? How can he afford that on sick leave? Is Pepa or one of the cousins going over? Is his girlfriend there? Who’s helping with Christopher? How is he managing?

The questions — all genuine and well-meaning, all a shade too accusatory — are on her tongue, pressed to the back of her teeth to keep from escaping. She’s entitled to answers, even if she doesn’t like them. She knows she has the right to at least know how her son is caring for himself and her grandson while he’s injured. If he’d told them when it happened Helena could have been here in a heartbeat to help, but no, Eddie’s just as stubborn as they are, just as prideful. He’d rather suffer alone than accept their help. Fine. But she’s still his mother, and Christopher’s grandmother. She raised them both. She has a right to—

Mom, listen…

Helena takes a deep breath in, anchors herself in the mixed scents of the rich sauce and the sweet bread cooking, and breathes out. Isabel sends her another look but says nothing.

————-

Helena cries when she sees Eddie, and cries a bit harder when she sees the apprehension in his eyes. Her baby boy looks a bit pale, but he’s standing on his own two feet and answering the door himself.

“Oh, sweetheart,” she murmurs, wrapping him gently into her arms, mindful not to press into the sling or his back.

“Hi, mom,” he says quietly, like he’s trying to gentle the stiffness in his voice.

She releases him, but not before pressing three kisses into his temple, always three. One for each of her kids.

Ramon steps into the space she leaves when she continues into the house and from the corner of her eye, she sees him cup the back of Eddie’s head and take a good look at him. For Ramon, it’s the equivalent of collapsing to the floor in tears.

Helena quickly toes off her boots and makes room at the entrance for the others behind her, which also puts her first in line to catch a sight that nearly knocks her down.

“Who is this young man I see?” she cries, throwing her hands wide to gesture at her grandson. “Last I saw you, you were just a little tyke. Now look at you, you must have grown three feet!”

Christopher giggles and Helena smiles in return as she folds him into her arms, but it’s forced. She’s not lying — he’s grown so much more than she expected. She hasn’t seen him in person since Eddie’s graduation and while video chats are priceless, they didn’t capture this growth spurt.

She can’t believe she let this happen. That she went from spending most of everyday with this little boy and now she’s missed out on two years of his life. Can’t believe Eddie kept him fro—

Mom, listen...

Supper goes well enough. Eddie never truly shakes loose the tension in his shoulders; he trades many looks with Isabel, seemingly spooked by his parents’ behaviour. He talks a lot more than he usually does, probably out of nervousness. But overall, they let Christopher take the reigns; they’re all more comfortable with that. It’s been too long since they’ve last spoken and Christopher is full of stories about his school and his friends.

“Buck says we can go to the Griffin soon. It was closed because of COVID. But before, I went with my class and they made a comet right in front of us!”

Buck. It’s the third time his name has been dropped at the table since they sat down.

She first met him, briefly, at Eddie’s graduation, but didn’t really register him as someone in her son’s life until Eddie and his crew stopped off in El Paso for dinner on their way home from fighting Texas wildfires. Buck had been cropping up in Christopher’s and Eddie’s stories for months by then and she was curious to properly meet him in person. He had seemed...young, she remembers.

“The Griffith Observatory,” Eddie corrects fondly. With Christopher, at least, it’s impossible for him not to soften.

Eddie’s only eaten half the pasta on his plate but Isabel seems satisfied. Helena bites down on the impulse to encourage him to eat more. To remind him he needs his strength to heal quickly for his little boy. She does lift the basket of garlic bread in his direction, because she can’t help herself. He eyes the basket warily as though he expects her to do more, but when she doesn’t, he shakes his head with a small smile of thanks.

“Yeah,” Christopher agrees, “it was cool but we didn’t get to stay long enough to see everything. And if we go later, Buck says we can see real meteors in the sky.”

Fourth mention.

“Christopher is on an astronomy kick,” Eddie adds redundantly.

“Wait, I gotta show you —” Christopher is sliding out of his seat before anyone can stop him and racing down the hall to his bedroom.

“Oh, honey —” Helena grips the arms of her chair out of reflex to jump up and help him — he doesn’t have his crutches, he’s only using the wall for support and he’s wearing socks — but Eddie looks over when her chair creaks.

He can’t really expect her to just sit here while Christopher—

Mom, listen…

They can hear Christopher make it to his bedroom without injury, so Helena slowly settles back in her chair and Ramon clears his throat. “He seems...okay. More okay than I would have expected.”

Eddie keeps his eyes on his father for a beat too long, assessing the comment for any hidden messages.

“He’s a resilient kid. Buck stayed here with him while I was in the hospital, so his routine wouldn’t get messed up. I think that helped a lot.”

Fifth ment— wait.

“Buck stayed with him?” The words — the tone — are out of her mouth before Helena can stop them.

On the shortlist of people she expected to hear stayed with her grandson to watch him and care for him, alone, while his father was in the hospital — Isabel, Pepa, Carla, or even Ana — Buck’s isn’t a name she expected to hear. A coworker — an unrelated man with no children of his own, over Christopher’s family? Over Christopher’s own aide? Over a schoolteacher?

Eddie’s jaw squares up and he sits up in his chair. Like light gray rain clouds suddenly turning dark, weighty with an incoming storm, a heavy tension builds in the air between them.

“Look!” Christopher exclaims as he rounds the corner, nearly throwing a thin, blue hardcover book on the table. Eddie catches it before it can slam into Christopher’s leftover pasta and sets it down on the table for him. “It shows all the things we can see in the sky over the whole year!”

Christopher climbs back into his chair and opens the book up to a random page, describing everything he seems to have nearly memorized already. By the time he reaches the upcoming meteor shower, the tension at the table has dissipated enough for Helena to excuse herself to the bathroom and not have it come off like a passive aggressive storm-off.

She washes her hands with soap pumped out of a fish-shaped dispenser that wasn’t here the last time she visited and trains her eyes on the basket of gauze, scissors and tape tucked away on the shelf above the toilet. That wasn’t there last time either.

Her baby boy was shot by a sniper. In LA.

A bullet tore through the body she created and almost took her son from her forever.

Mom, listen...

But only after she’d almost pushed him so far away he might never come back.

The tears well up again and she sniffs through them, blinking up at the ceiling until she’s back under control.

As she pivots to turn the light off, she spies a purple toothbrush resting on the ledge just above the sink. The other two toothbrushes are electric — one adult-, one child-sized — and stand on the counter.

—————-

Helena and Ramon meet the infamous Ana by accident.

When they leave Eddie’s house on Friday, Helena sends a text message to say what she couldn’t manage to say to his face — that they’re here for him, in whatever capacity he needs, that they’ll take their cues from him, even if that means giving him some space.

To that, she receives a, Thank you.

When she asks for the contact information of the therapist he had scoped out for them, she gets a phone call.

“Not to look a gift horse in the mouth,” her son says, “but are you just doing this because I got shot?”

“Honestly? Yeah,” she laughs mirthlessly. “I’m sorry to say it took our baby boy nearly dying to get our heads out of our ass.”

Eddie huffs a laugh on his end. “Well, I’ll take that silver lining.”

After that, Eddie invites them to a restaurant for brunch on Sunday, but when they reach his doorstep, they find it already occupied by a woman who’s just rung the doorbell, holding a casserole dish in her hands.

When the door opens, Eddie takes in the three of them, his eyes wide and apprehensive.

“Ana, I wasn’t expecting you,” he says, his eyes darting over her shoulder to his parents. He’s smiling, though there’s a clear strain in the corners of his eyes and mouth. They’ve been critical about Shannon for so long — and with good reason, nothing will change Helena’s mind on that — no doubt he’s expecting them to hate this new woman on sight.

“You’re Ana!” Helena exclaims with a wide smile, imbuing her voice with as much welcome as she’s capable. “Hi! It’s so good to finally meet you!”

When Eddie releases the breath he was holding, she knows she was on the mark. Ramon follows her lead and invites Ana to brunch with them on the spot and won’t hear her protests about intruding.

Eddie, of course, doesn’t protest at all but invites them in so Ana can store the casserole in the fridge — it takes both Ana and Helena’s organizational skills to find a spot for it among Isabel’s and Eddie’s tupperwares already invading all available space — and he can finish getting ready. He was already dressed in a nice polo and jeans but when he comes back from his bedroom it’s in a smart button-down he must have struggled with out of sheer stubbornness. Both his parents and his girlfriend are in the house and still he didn’t ask for help.

Eddie and Christopher decide to hop into Ana’s car and Helena asks loudly for directions to keep Ramon from insisting they should all ride together.

“So how long have you kids been seeing each other now?” Ramon asks when they’ve been seated at the restaurant.

“Nearly 7 months now, I think, isn’t it?” Ana replies, looking at Eddie with a dazzling smile — she truly is gorgeous. Eddie was still talking to them when he started dating her so they know she’s a schoolteacher turned vice principal but to meet her in person blows all their other expectations out of the water. She’s lively and sweet, patient and understanding, Latina — a big plus in Ramon’s books ironically. Eddie picked well this time.

Eddie hesitates a moment and nods. “Yeah, that sounds right.”

Every now and again, he squirms in his chair, like he can’t quite settle in and Helena wonders when his last painkiller was taken. But when he catches her face, she smoothes her worry out into a cheeky smile that says I like this one. He smiles back and there’s nothing she can pinpoint exactly but something about it makes her uneasy.

Eddie’s too quiet as they wait for their food, his face pinched, and just when Helena’s about to break, Ana does her the favour of asking gently, “Are you feeling okay? Do you need to take anything for your arm?”

But Eddie shrugs off her concern. “No, thank you. Next one isn’t until noon.” He taps his phone twice and she smiles.

“Sorry, I forgot. He’s got them all on timers with a special ringtone. He’s so organized,” she tells Helena and Ramon with a sunny smile, rubbing her hand down his good arm. “I have one multivitamin and I forget to take it half the time.”

“Buck set it up,” Eddie defers, and Helena schools her face not to react; even at brunch Buck is with them in spirit.

Ramon either takes no issue with the mention or doesn’t register it. He takes the opportunity to share how his new pharmacy pre-packages his heart and arthritis medications into AM and PM slots and Ana listens attentively. Eddie’s fingertip taps absently against the phone case until their food arrives.

Christopher ordered a waffle, and with Eddie indisposed, Helena is already moving to help him when Ana beats her to the punch again. Helena tucks a smile away as Ana leans over and starts cutting the waffle up into smaller pieces.

“He can do that,” Eddie says when he notices Christopher sitting back in his chair, realizing only when Ana startles that his tone is sharp. His voice is softer when he follows up with, “Right, buddy?”

“Yeah,” Chris agrees, picking up his own cutlery with enthusiasm despite his hands being nearly too small for them.

Eddie throws an apologetic grin Ana’s way and brunch continues peacefully, though the stiff line of Eddie’s shoulder never does quite soften.

Mom, listen…

————-

Their first therapy session takes place in Isabel’s kitchen at Eddie’s request. Isabel thinks it’s so he has the option of leaving when he needs to (in other words, when he gets fed up and runs) but Helena hasn’t missed how Eddie has been careful to keep them away from his home since the first day they saw him.

They’ve seen Eddie and Chris numerous times in the week and change they’ve been in LA — more than they’ve seen them since they left El Paso — but always outside of the house. Sometimes they pick Chris up from school, sometimes Eddie and Chris come to Isabel’s for supper, sometimes they go out to restaurants or other outings, but they haven’t been invited back to his home again. She wanted to believe it was because he was hiding the news that Ana had moved in but that’s been shot out of the water both by her ringing the doorbell and an errant comment at the end of brunch about how she hadn’t seen him since the welcome home party.

So it’s out of pettiness, then. Stubbornness. Out of pig-headed inability to accept that he needs help and willingness to believe that they’re making an effort to meet him on his own terms.

She tries not to let it rankle her, tries to find some of that resolute commitment to letting things be and not push. But the next thing she knows, she’s yelling about it to a stranger at Isabel’s island counter.

To be fair, the session with Dr. Jamieson wasn’t going great to begin with. It’s awkward as hell, the three of them balancing on stools, squished in next to each other to try to fit into the screen, but also trying to keep the laptop close enough to still hear her and not have to shout. It’s happening while Chris is at school so they don’t have to worry about keeping him distracted but they can’t exactly ask Isabel to go wait in the LA sun for an hour so she doesn’t overhear, so it’s basically a given that she’s the fourth person on this virtual couch from the next room over.

And beyond that, Helena has kept her mouth shut for over a week which is frankly more time than anyone would have bet on, including herself, and given the opportunity to express herself freely...well…

“You want space? We’ve given you nothing but space since we got here. How much more can we give you, Eddie? You’re hundreds of miles away from us already. Forgive us for feeling the need to check in on our only son who almost died last week,” she yells, her hand nearly colliding with her coffee mug as she gestures.

“Last week?” Ramon echoes with a bark of dark laughter.

“Oh, no, that’s right,” Helena picks up. “I’m sorry! Not a week ago! Nearly a month ago! Because apparently we don’t warrant even a text when our only son almost dies, but that’s not enough space?”

Eddie rakes his fingers aggressively through his hair, his lips pursed.

“We have to move to Mexico,” Ramon continues blithely. “Is that enough space? No, better yet! Sweden! Your family still lives out there, no? We can live on their farm. Completely different timezone, we won’t even be reachable.”

“Yeah,” Eddie bites back, a sour grin blooming on his face, “that’s what I want. I ask you to give me some breathing room — to respect me, my life — and you translate that into living in a fucking commune in Sweden. And you wonder why we’re in therapy. I can’t talk to you, you don’t listen!”

Mom, lis—

“Listen to what, Eddie?” Helena yells, getting out of her seat to pace. “Listen to the months of silence you’ve sent our way? Because we either get on board and blindly cheer on every mess you get yourself into or we don’t get to know you anymore? Don’t get to know our grandson?”

“I never kept him from you — you have our number, the phone didn’t ring. That’s not on me.”

“Because you would have picked up?” Ramon exclaims, pushing away from the island to better look back at their son. “Easy to claim when it’s after the fact in front of the doctor.”

“So now I’m a liar! You raised a liar?”

“I think we’ve gotten off-track,” Dr. Jamieson’s tinny voice interjects from the laptop.

In the bottom right hand corner of the screen, only Eddie remains in the frame.

————

Firehouse 118 was a lively crowd at Eddie’s graduation but it’s nothing compared to the party thrown at the Grant-Nash house in honour of a new probationary firefighter.

Dr. Jamieson pointed out the self-fulfilling prophecy that Eddie protecting himself from criticism and pressure by withholding details about his life in LA was leading to his parents’ growing insecurity over not knowing anything about their son and feeling the need to intervene more and more.

The solution? Let them in on his life and trust that they could hold themselves in check.

For that, even Ramon was in agreement that maybe therapy wasn’t a load of shit after all.

So here they find themselves welcomed into this beautiful and loud home nearly three weeks into their stay in LA. They were allowed to pick Eddie and Chris up so they arrive together but Christopher peels off immediately to find kids his own age.

It’s impossible not to feel the warmth of family radiating from every inch of the home so when Eddie’s shoulders seem to loosen a little as they walk in, Helena can’t find it in herself to begrudge him.

“Well aren’t you a sight for sore eyes,” a woman around Helena’s age drawls, crowding into Eddie’s space for a delicate hug he doesn’t hesitate to return. “Though I could have done without seeing another one of these for a few hundred more years,” she says, gesturing to the sling. “How much longer?”

“Another month if everything checks out,” Eddie says, releasing a sigh.

“It better,” she warns with a twinkle in her eye that says if she learns he’s been aggravating his injury there will be hell to pay.

The woman, they find out, is Athena Grant-Nash, wife of the 118’s captain and consummate host. While Eddie splits off “for a minute”, she leads them to the main area for drinks and introductions before leaving them to mingle. Captain Nash — Bobby — meets them with appetizers and introduces them to the Lees, the de-facto parental figures of the young man who just joined the team.

From the spot she claims at the edge of the dining room, Helena keeps an eye trained on Eddie outside. She feels an itch under her skin knowing it’s been nearly twenty minutes and Eddie hasn’t checked on Christopher, but she knows she shouldn’t go herself. Eddie can do everything on his own, right? He can look after his own kid at a party.

She can, however, go to the washroom and take a peek at what Christopher’s up to while she’s wandering, and that’s exactly what she intends to do.

But for now, she watches as Eddie criss-crosses through the crowds of the patio, prompting a localized burst of cheers at each stop as he reunites himself with teammates he hasn’t seen since the shooting. She recognizes the woman who was on the trip to Texas but the rest conjure only the vaguest memories of Eddie’s graduation and the occasional picture on Instagram — before he stopped posting that is. Just one more way they’ve been iced out.

But he seems happy, almost carefree in a way she realizes she hasn’t seen with her own eyes in...longer than this trip, actually.

Probably years, if she’s honest.

And it occurs to her, slowly, creepingly, that her son is outside, smiling freely and easily, surrounded by people he’s made his new family, while Helena stands inside watching his life through a glass window in a stranger’s house.

Mom, listen…

She swallows past the lump in her throat and sighs. Ramon’s arm comes around her waist and without looking at him, she knows he’s had a similar revelation.

Their next therapy session is in a few days, and they’re not going to fuck it up again.

There’s a late arrival to the party, one of the only people in Eddie’s life she can recognize — Buck. He’s as tall as she remembered but he looks a shade less young now maybe. He greets everyone with a hug or kiss on the cheek as he moves through the party, and bestows a cheer and an enthusiastic hug on Albert, the guest of honour.

When he moves on to the patio and approaches Eddie’s circle, however, the cheerful, long-awaited reunion of best friends she expects doesn’t happen. They catch each other’s eyes for a few beats and share a welcoming smile, then the conversation resumes as if nothing of consequence has happened. Buck doesn’t even linger long, heading back into the house after a few minutes.

When the cake starts being doled out, Eddie returns to meet them at the table and accepts the plate Helena offers him. Helena is scouting the yard for a chair he can sit on to eat when Buck reappears.

“He couldn’t be pulled away?” Eddie asks in surprise.

“Nope,” Buck replies with a grin before turning to them. “Hi, Mr. and Mrs. Diaz. Good to see you again!” Before they can return more than a smile, Buck continues, “he’s cheating at Unicorn Temple with Harry. Not even cake can pull him away.”

Eddie rolls his eyes and smiles. “My son is not a cheater.” To them, he says, “Buck thinks that whenever he’s losing at a video game, it’s because his opponent is cheating.”

“Not always! Just when they are,” he replies with exaggerated emphasis before scooping a piece of cake onto a plate. “I’m gonna go hide this in the fridge for him for later before it’s all gone.”

Eddie ducks his head and smiles down at his plate, and the questions are building up behind Helena’s teeth again.

Christopher’s been playing video games all this time? Is it an age-appropriate game? Why is Buck checking on your son? Why is Buck saving him cake when nobody asked him to? Why—

But Eddie looks up with an uncertain expression and says, “there’s a table out there if you guys want to join me.”

So Helena stows her questions and says, “that’d be great.”

They eat the overly-sweet cake in peaceful silence until Ramon casts an eye around and says, “you must be glad about the new firefighter. You won’t be the baby on the team anymore.”

Eddie snorts. “I’m 33 and my kid is nearly a teenager — and that’s totally not freaking me out at all,” he adds wryly. “Besides, I was never the baby of the team. Buck is younger than me and forever a kid at heart so I was never in any danger of it.”

“Oh god, don’t remind me that Christopher’s growing up,” Helena only half-jokes. “I can still barely believe he’s old enough to hold his own head up.”

Eddie huffs a laugh and Helena banks it as a win.

“Do any of your coworkers have teenagers?” Ramon asks. “Might have some words of wisdom to share.” Since you won’t ask us, is unspoken and politely ignored by all.

“Athena’s daughter May is just leaving the teen years now, but after her, Christopher’s the oldest. Harry, Athena’s son is 9 and Denny, Hen and Karen’s son just turned 8. It’s great for play dates but not for getting advice on what’s coming up unfortunately.”

“Karen,” Ramon echoes.

Eddie’s fork pauses on its way to scoop some excess icing off his cake and his back straightens.

“Hen’s wife,” he says curtly, daring.

Helena wants to roll her eyes at the posturing. It’s 2021, who cares who anybody loves. She knows Ramon doesn’t, not really, not anymore. It’s a 50-year-long reflex to make a comment, one they’ve been working, if only to have some semblance of a civil conversation with Sophia while she works through a degree in women and gender studies.

But she knows that excuse isn’t going to fly with Eddie.

It hasn’t flown since Eddie was 20 years old and realizing he’d lost a good friend to his father’s caustic words. And Helena can’t ever go back and examine the hurt in Eddie’s expression with fresh eyes. Shemanages to forget about it most of the time until something happens to dig it out of the cold, hard ground and shove it in her arms.

Mom, listen...

But she’s come to LA because she wants to be in her son’s life, in her grandson’s life and she can’t be a coward now.

“They’re a gorgeous couple,” she says, almost too loudly in her enthusiasm. “Are they thinking of having more kids?”

Eddie turns his assessing eyes to her and is mollified by her effort. “Yeah, they’re foster parents now. They’ve fostered three kids so far.”

“That’s great,” she says sincerely. Then, accidentally on purpose and only in part to bring Ramon back to a safe topic, she asks, “Does Ana want a large family?”

Eddie sees through her attempt, but nods. “Yeah, she loves kids.”

Helena doesn’t miss Ramon’s approving nod, or the dark look that passes over Eddie’s eyes when he catches it.

“Was Ana not able to come tonight?” Ramon asks.

“I didn’t ask her,” he answers, his voice a shade too casual. “This is more of a team thing.” As if they hadn’t just been discussing the other families all around them.

“That Ana—” Ramon begins but is interrupted by the arrival of Christopher with a hint of blue icing on his nose and Buck following behind him with two paper plates filled with cake.

Christopher sits backwards on the picnic table bench and uses his arms to lift his legs over while Eddie watches but doesn’t offer to help, and when Christopher is set, Buck places one of the plates in front of him with a plastic fork stuck in the top like a flag.

“Buck was finally able to pull you away, mijo?” Eddie asks as Christopher digs in.

“No, May took her room back so we can’t play on her tv anymore. Harry’s gonna ask his mom if we can play in her room.”

“Yeah...” Buck draws out, sharing a dubious expression with Eddie over Christopher’s head, “I wouldn’t hold out for that, bud.”

“Maybe you can teach the others how to play Scrabble!” Eddie suggests.

Christopher’s nose wrinkles, “Scrabble is boring.”

“Hey!” Buck protests and takes a forkful of Christopher’s cake in retaliation, which prompts Christopher to yell and attack Buck’s cake back, taking much more than a forkful.

The commotion draws attention to their table and Helena’s gearing up to tell Christopher to settle down when she catches Eddie’s eyes on her, waiting.

Helena looks back out to the backyard to say, People are staring.

Eddie looks back impassively as if to say, Let them.

Mom, listen...

Helena swallows her impatience, her anxiety, her embarrassment.

“Hey,” Buck calls, his mouth half full of icing, “did you take your 6?”

Eddie hesitates and that’s enough for Buck to swallow and look put out, already turning and lifting a leg out of the confines of the picnic table.

“Did you turn off your alarm again?”

“I didn’t turn it off the first time, I don’t know what happened.”

“What happened is it woke you up at 6am and you turned it off because sleepy Eddie makes bad life choices.”

Eddie rolls his eyes. “You don’t have —”

“Right pocket?” Buck interjects, already walking away.

“Yeah,” Eddie sighs.

Christopher looks at him and shakes his head with exaggerated disappointment.

“Don’t you start,” Eddie warns, scooping a fingertip of icing and dabbing it on his son’s nose too quickly for him to duck.

Christopher shrieks and reaches for his cake fingers-first.

“Oh no, no,” Eddie laughs, catching Christopher’s fingers with one hand. “Truce, truce.”

Christopher doesn’t look interested in a truce and Eddie’s other arm is in a sling, so Ramon quickly pulls the cake out of Christopher’s reach, and then Buck’s abandoned piece and Helena does the same with Eddie’s.

“Not fair!” Christopher cries, still reaching.

“Your dad’s hurt, mijo, you can’t attack him with icing while he’s healing,” Ramon says reasonably. “Wait till he’s all better.”

“He’s fine!” Christopher declares with the confidence of a trauma surgeon as he tries to climb up on the bench.

Eddie’s not in a position to pull him back down and Helena doesn’t know how far they can take their non-interference but she’s not about to let her grandson hop over a table to fall into three plates of cake. She’s half-decided she’s going to pick up the cake and walk it back inside when Buck returns, depositing a glass of water on the table and a small white pill into Eddie’s palm before swooping in and tickling Christopher’s sides.

He shrieks loudly, gaining looks from all around the backyard, but it gets his butt back down on the bench and Buck sits back down next to him, boxing him in between himself and Eddie.

“What happened to our cake? How’d it get all the way over there?” The plates are very easily within Buck’s reach; it’s a question for Christopher’s benefit.

“Dad got me like you did!” Christopher cries indignantly, pointing to his nose. “I’m getting him back!”

“Oh man,” Buck nods seriously before his finger darts forward, swipes the icing from his nose and brings it to his mouth. “Mmm, this is better than the one I got you with. You sure you don’t just wanna eat it?”

Christopher looks unconvinced.

“How about this?” Buck ducks down to whisper loudly. “You call a truce with your dad, and then I’ll steal all his icing and we’ll eat it.”

The icing on Eddie’s cake is mostly piled in a corner of his paper plate. He’s never been able to stomach the pure sugary sweetness of store bought icing.

“Okay,” Christopher nods back, reaching out again for his plate but without making grabby hands.

Ramon assesses him for a moment before taking the chance to push the plates back within reach.

“Hey, Eddie,” Buck calls deliberately. “You should take your medication now.”

“Thanks, Buck,” Eddie replies with a smile that conveys an eyeroll. “I’ll do that now.”

While Eddie pops the pill and takes a very long drink of water, Buck “sneakily” pulls his plate towards them and scoops all the piled icing onto his own plate before pushing the cake back to Eddie’s side of the table.

Christopher laughs and pushes Eddie’s plate an extra few inches away out of spite.

Eddie plays the disappointed victim passably well with a half-hearted gasp and a shake of his head. “You little thieves.”

As promised, Buck doles out some of Eddie’s icing to Christopher who immediately protests at the amount left on Buck’s plate.

“Hey, when you’re a big guy like me, you get more icing. Keep eating your proteins and you’ll get there in no time.”

Christopher accepts that easily enough. “I’m gonna be tall like dad.”

Buck scoffs, “Aim higher, kid. Literally.”

“I am barely two inches shorter than you,” Eddie laments, not for the first time, it sounds like.

“It’s practically three. Are you really going to lie in front of your parents?”

Wouldn’t be the first time, is on Helena’s tongue because it’s been hours since she could speak her mind, but she holds it in.

“How was the trip from Texas?” Buck asks them suddenly, bringing them back into the fold of a scene they'd never left but somehow stopped being a part of. “Flights have new restrictions on them now, don’t they?”

Mom, listen...

When the party is winding down and they walk outside to the driveway, Eddie surprises them by offering them both a hug.

“Thank you for coming,” he says sincerely, though Helena hears the underlying “and behaving” and can’t help but bristle.

“Thank you for inviting us, mijo,” Ramon says; his turn to save Helena from herself.

And when Eddie lets them know he and Chris will be getting their ride back from Buck, Ramon takes Helena’s hand and they smile almost sincerely as they say their goodnights.

—————-

The next week happens to be Isabel’s 80th birthday and Helena and Ramon keep themselves busy by helping to throw a party that will reunite every vaccinated member of the family in the area (they’re not about to take a chance on Isabel’s health).

Things have been getting better with Eddie. They had a second therapy session, again at Isabel’s island counter, where they lasted a good 25 minutes before devolving into yelling. The next day, Eddie asked Ramon for a ride to physical therapy, and easily accepted his father’s offer of lunch after the appointment.

Then, when Helena asked if she could pick up some groceries for him and Christopher, she was refused — in no small part, she thinks, because he still won’t let them in his house — but instead of going off on him, she channeled that anger and resentment into nearly buying out Costco for Isabel’s party. It felt like progress Dr. Jamieson would be proud of.

That’s why, despite the party officially kicking off around 11am, they’re just past supper time and all tables and counters are still nearly buckling under the weight of the food. They’ll have to send everyone home with leftovers if the flow of people stops. Isabel’s front door has been a turnstile since this morning and Helena knows from experience it’ll likely stay that way until the late hours of the night. Most recently, Helena’s daughters made their appearance, and it’s not at all the reason Helena is back in the kitchen.

Despite coming from opposite ends with different travel distances, Adriana and Sophia arrived within a half hour of each other, a move Helena saw through instantly. The idea that her children coordinated to arrive together instead of risking the possibility of facing their parents alone sets a fire raging in her heart, and she realizes suddenly that she isn’t prepared to be hypervigilant of her every word with all three of her kids here now to push her buttons.

So, she retreats to the kitchen.

She doesn’t expect one of them to follow her in.

“I heard you guys were doing therapy,” Adriana volleys as she approaches.

Helena cracks open the tray of chocolate chip cookies and starts plating them, her face angled down so any kneejerk expression of distaste isn’t as visible. “Apparently, that’s what the cool kids do nowadays.”

“It is,” Adriana agrees, the bangles on her wrists clinking on the countertop as she reaches for the box of oatmeal cookies to plate. She’s a year into her Master’s in communication. What she intends to do with that is a mystery to them. So much of their kids’ lives are a mystery now. Helena closes the lid of the cookie tray hard and relishes in the snap of the plastic groove into the tongue.

“Paying a stranger to tell us when and how to talk to each other is cool,” she bites. It’s not posed as a question, just a bitter acknowledgement.

Adriana is quiet and Helena starts plating mini quiches onto the cookie platter just to stay occupied while her daughter walks away. Sophia is a yeller, she stands her ground and gives as good as she gets. Adriana, however, is a runner, just like Eddie.

But Adriana doesn’t leave in a huff. She turns to the counter and grabs a second platter, moving the mini quiches onto that one.

“It’s cool that you’re open to trying,” she says. “I think that, in any family where there’s love, there’s going to be hurt. And the longer we stay stuck in that hurt, the harder it becomes to talk about it without causing more. We get stuck in patterns that we can’t break out of, and people on the outside can be the best ones to point out those patterns and help you break out of them to get to what you actually, truly want to say.”

Helena knows what she actually, truly wants to say. That’s not the problem. The problem is that none of her kids want to hear it.

“I see a therapist,” Adriana continues. Helena stills and looks at her daughter, calmly arranging the mini quiches into concentric circles. “Since my last year of undergrad. When things got really hard and I couldn’t understand why. They helped me. A lot. Helped me figure out what was wrong and how to get myself through it.”

“You didn’t tell us,” Helena says, her voice thick.

“I know,” her daughter replies simply. “I didn’t know how. I’m telling you now because what I actually, truly want to say is that I’m proud of you and dad for doing this. And maybe if you don’t hate it...maybe we could try a session later too.”

There’s an offer in her daughter’s words, an open hand reaching out. But in that hand, Helena sees her failures as a parent, the judgement of the world for failing her kids, and she doesn’t want to reach her own hand out.

Mom, listen…

Helena looks at her eldest daughter, almost a stranger to her, with an entire life Helena is only starting to realize she has no part in. It hurts — it always hurts when the kids pull away but to realize she didn’t even know the extent of it...she wants to hurt back.

Mom, listen…

But she’s trying so hard to break those patterns Adriana speaks of. So instead, Helena thinks of the therapist’s advice leading them into a piece of Eddie’s life they wouldn’t have otherwise gotten to see and swallows past the indignation in her throat to reach down and find the words she actually, truly wants to say.

“You say when, and I’ll be there.”

———-

The sun is setting when Helena finally agrees to get off her feet and just enjoy the party outside while the cousins take over the serving and cleaning. There are four generations of Diazes gathered around but for the first time ever, most of the cousins are young adults, not teenagers, and it’s nice to be able to pass on the hosting responsibilities to them for a bit.

The sky is clear, the sunset resplendent from Isabel’s backyard, and the conversation is flowing easily. It’s a beautiful evening, warm with a gentle breeze cool enough to let her lean back against Ramon in his lounge chair, one of his arms wrapped loosely around her hip.

For the first time since getting Isabel’s text, Helena feels something like peace wash over her and she almost feels bad for the thrum of vindication in her stomach when she spots Eddie slumped comfortably in an armchair, his legs propped up on another chair.

He’s at home here.

Yes, he was at ease at his captain’s house but this is family, this is where he can really sink into the love and comfort and rest. With his aunts and uncles, cousins and sisters around to take care of him. And Christopher, who spent the afternoon running around and chomping down on all the sugar he could get his hands on, slumped against him, nearly asleep. This is family.

She knows he could find that peace back in El Paso, they both could. Eddie had friends there, and his parents, who knew his son better than he did for most of his life. And there are fires in El Paso same as there are in LA, but less smog, less general insanity.

But Eddie’s a lot like his parents, too much like them maybe, and once he’s decided on a course of action he can’t be swayed. So Helena has made peace with it. Rather, she’s made peace with pretending to be okay with it while she waits for him to come to the realization that he should move back.

And in the meantime, if they can mend this thorniness between them, then maybe she and Ramon can make more of these impromptu trips. Maybe even convince Eddie to come home for Christmas this year. At the very least, go back to regular video chats.

But all that ruminating feels far away right now. She’s moving gently with the rise and fall of Ramon’s chest, and she’s so close to slipping away to the feeling of contentment when a new arrival makes her open eyes she didn’t realize she’d closed.

“Feliz cumpleanos,” she hears someone say in half-decent Spanish from the front door on the other side of the side yard fence.

She doesn’t recognize the voice as yet another cousin or uncle, but Eddie shakes Christopher’s shoulder gently, and says, “hey, guess who’s here.”

It takes a moment, but the words penetrate Christopher’s sleepiness. His eyes pop open and he shimmies out of Eddie’s lap and into his crutches to power walk over to the gate just in time for it to open, admitting Isabel, holding a beautiful bouquet of flowers, and a sheepish looking Buck behind her.

“Buck!” Christopher yells.

Buck’s smile widens and he immediately opens his arms. “Hey, superman!”

Buck crouches down and Christopher throws his arms around his neck, crutches and all. When it’s time to break apart, Christopher’s still hanging on and Helena feels a stab of dark vindication at what’s about to happen, and the look Ramon sends her way tells her she’s not alone. Because Christopher is now officially in the double digits, and while he’s always been an independent kid, becoming 10 years old was a big deal for him and his perceived level of maturity, and apparently the year he decided no one was allowed to carry him anymore.

And now Christopher’s tired and in the grip of a powerful sugar crash. He’s not going to suffer any indignities, and Helena knows she should feel bad about not trying to stop Buck. About just watching this play out to see him be rejected. But she wasn’t expecting to see him here, in this safe haven of Isabel’s backyard, in this space for family and loved ones, and it rankles her. It feels like everywhere she turns in LA, she finds him there. And his being here is just another nail in the coffin of Eddie stubbornly refusing to let his parents back into his home. That he would call his friend to this party just to avoid letting them give him a ride…

So she’s a little bitter, a little resentful of the persistent, low-key rejection. Sue her. Eddie has made it clear he doesn’t want them interfering anyway so this is on him.

“Christopher,” Eddie calls, a warning to not make a scene.

Buck looks over Christopher’s shoulder and smiles. “He’s fine,” he says.

Then he’s heaving Christopher’s body up into his arms and onto his hip and Christopher…

...Christopher slumps down over Buck’s shoulder like a baby koala. No sound of protest leaves his lips. His face, if it shows any displeasure, is hidden behind Buck’s neck.

And when Eddie gets up, it’s not to intercede, it’s only to grab the errant crutches before they hit something, and to pull his own armless chair out for Buck to sit on because apparently Buck is staying, and apparently Christopher is staying with him.

“He’s a bit old to be carried around, no?” Ramon says with a bite, because he can’t help himself.

Eddie, who’s been watching his son fondly, barely bats an eye. “He gets cuddly when he’s tired, and Buck’s nearly the only one left who’s big enough to carry him.”

“Ah, that’s why you spend so much time developing these,” Pepa says with a sly smile as she pinches at Buck’s bicep. The same familiar pinch she gave her own grandkids’ cheeks.

“Gracias a Dios,” Isabel adds meaningfully.

“That was adrenaline,” Eddie dismisses with a teasing grin.

“That was 100 squats and 50 pushups a day,” Buck returns blithely. “...and maybe a little adrenaline.”

“What’s this?” Ramon asks before she can.

Instead of prompting more teasing, the mood falls slightly and everyone looks to each other.

Finally, Eddie sighs. “When I got shot, Buck army crawled under a ladder truck to get me out and lifted me into the truck to get to the hospital.”

It strikes Helena suddenly, shamefully, that in the shock of finding out they’d missed the event itself, the hospital stay, and two entire weeks of healing, that they’d never circled back around for details on what actually went down the day it happened.

She never thought to wonder how he got off that street. How he got to the hospital. Who might have saved his life.

And she wishes she were a better person then. Wishes that learning Buck saved her son’s life overpowered her irritation at having him sitting here in Isabel’s backyard like he belonged here when Helena herself barely felt like she did herself. It does help, though.

“They released the street footage of the shooting,” Pepa continues quietly. “It’s on YouTube. Before I even knew it happened, Marguerita from church just sent me a link saying ‘they said it’s a Diaz, do you know him?’ and I saw.”

The idea of her son’s shooting being passed around like a cat video makes Helena sick, but Pepa lamenting how she hadn’t known when she learned about it in a matter of hours and sat on it for weeks…

“I wouldn’t recommend it,” Pepa says decisively. “But they have an angle where you can see our Buck here go and get Eddie, pick him up like he doesn’t weigh a thing and get him into the truck to get to the hospital. Probably why he’s alive today. So gracias a Dios for those squats.”

Eddie and Buck are both looking away, both looking safely at Christopher while the table digests the news.

“If you were looking for a story of something really dumb, I can point you in the direction of another video of Buck,” Eddie says, his tone jovial but his eyes strained.

“You need to let that go,” Buck says in a definite whine.

“Do I?” Eddie asks. “Abuela did you see the video of the firefighter who went up the crane all alone?”

“Dios mío, Buck,” Pepa laments.

“Did you send it to me?” Abuela asks her, pulling out her phone and her glasses to check.

“No, mamá, it was an idiot firefighter but I didn’t realize it was the one we knew.”

“In the middle of an all-out declaration of war on firefighters,” Eddie begins, quietly for Christopher’s sake, but impassioned, sitting up in his chair, “this idiota and his squat count climbed up a crane ladder, completely exposed and defenseless—”

Buck looks pained. “I was wearing a bulletproof vest and a helmet. And that’s the job sometimes—”

“The paramedics’ job, actually, which you aren’t. So, no, that wasn’t the job.” Eddie’s tone edges into something darker without his meaning to. He takes a drink of his lemonade looking for all the world like he wished it was a beer. “And you know that or I wouldn’t have found out about it from Chim a month after the fact.”

Helena clenches her jaw tight and squeezes Ramon’s hand even tighter so neither of them can say, So you have a problem being left in the dark too?

“Buck,” Isabel sighs with disappointment.

Buck winces. “It was before— ” He cuts himself off, his wide eyes darting towards Helena and Ramon of all people.

“Hmm,” Isabel answers noncommittally, as if to end the conversation.

Just then, Sophia brings out a platter of bite-sized desserts, making the rounds of the whole circle for people to pick at before leaving it on the table. The opportunity to move on is there. That doesn’t mean they’re interested in taking it.

“Before what?” Ramon asks, his tone is forcibly casual.

The silence that greets Ramon’s question is heavy. Guilty. When Helena casts her eyes around, she’s greeted by stiff shoulders and a mix of apprehension shared between her son, her mother- and sister-in-law, and Buck.

Mom, listen...

“Before what?” Helena repeats, her voice uncompromising.

———-

The fight they have in Isabel’s guest bedroom is a Hall of Famer. It’s a screaming match, no doubt about it. The doors from the bedroom to the yard are all closed but there’s no question every member of the family — and Buck — can hear every word.

“Do you really hate us that much?” Helena demands. She’s crying but she doesn’t know if it’s heartbreak or fury, she just wishes it’d stop so she could lean into her anger. “Genuinely, honestly, Eddie.”

“I don’t hate you,” he protests, keeping his own voice down, making it seem like they’re irrational for their anger.

“Bullshit,” she spits.

“You must!” Ramon adds. “You hate us so much that you have to hate your sisters too? Your cousins? You would rather leave your only son to a stranger, some gringo coworker, than with family? That’s how much you hate us? Hate our name?”

“Our name?” Eddie shoots back incredulously. “What are you talking about, our name? We’re not royalty, papi, and Chris’ name would never change.”

“You would leave him to your coworker,” Helena stresses, disgust dripping from her tongue.

“To my best friend,” Eddie retorts, “who Christopher adores, if you haven’t noticed. And who adores Christopher right back.”

“That’s not normal, mijo,” Ramon warns.

“Jesus christ,” Eddie seethes. “Please do not star—”

“What kind of single adult man bonds with another man’s child like that?”

“You’re describing a tío, you understand that right? What, you think it’s weird that Pepa loves me like her own? You think Sophia should stay away from Chris too?”

“That’s family,” Helena argues.

“And they’re women!”

“Ramon, shut up,” Helena snaps.

“Buck is our family, and he’s a man, and he’s got the biggest heart of anyone I’ve ever met. If anything happened to me, Christopher would be taken care of like if I was still here.”

“Buck, the one who nearly got him killed in the tsunami? That’s the same guy right?” Ramon throws out, his eyes a little wild as he paces.

“The one who saved his life in that tsunami, despite being injured and then some. And the one who’s saved my life more times than I can count, including from being gunned down on the street. We’d both probably be dead if not f— ”

“Isn’t he the one who’s family is worse off than ours?” Helena recalls. “So he has no family, no support, no girlfriend even! So a worse position than you’re in now. That’s what you want to leave him with.”

“He doesn’t need a girlfriend to raise Christopher right, I don’t! And he has a great sister, he has the 118, he has Carla, and he has our family. You think Abuela and Pepa would shut the door on him? He’d be here every Sunday, with Christopher, just like I am.”

“And what does your girlfriend think of this?” Ramon presses. “The vice principal, she thinks this is normal?”

“Ana doesn’t have anything to do with this,” Eddie says, frowning.

Helena balks. “You think the woman you’ve been seeing seriously for nearly a year has nothing to do with long-term decisions about your son? You think maybe she wouldn’t want the option of taking Christopher in if something happened to you?”

“That’s not happening, he’s going to Buck and that’s final.”

“What’s going on with you and this gringo?” Ramon asks suspiciously. “Are you even going out with Ana or was that another lie?”

“Ramon, don’t go there,” Helena sighs, her heart clenching. That’s all they need in this clusterfuck, that layer of pain.

“No, let’s go there because you know what?” Eddie asks darkly. “There is no one on this planet I trust with my son more than Buck and yeah, if we need to lay it all out there, that includes the two of you. I know you love Christopher, just like I know Shannon loved him, but that’s not always going to be enough. Buck isn’t going to fill my son’s head with ideas about the wrong kind of way to love someone. He’s not going to tell him he’s not good enough for his family to love him or support him. Buck’s going to make sure Christopher grows up to follow his heart and find whatever makes him happiest in the world, no matter what that looks like.”

“How could you think—”

“What if he grows up to be gay?” Eddie asks pointedly, staring his father down. “You’re telling me you’re going to be the one to help him pick out a suit to go to prom with his boyfriend?”

Ramon purses his lips but tries, “it’s a different world now,” as if he hadn’t just tried to make crass insinuations just to hurt his son.

“Okay,” Eddie says, not believing him for a moment, “what if he’s trans? Tells you at 15 that he’s a girl and he wants to transition. You’re going to get him on hormone therapy?”

“Eddie that’s not—”

“What if he’s 20 and he tells you he got a girl pregnant by accident and he doesn’t know her enough to love her, and he’s not ready to be a father let alone a husband?”

Helena tries to speak but her throat is suddenly too tight for words to get out.

“You gonna tell him he’s not a man if he doesn’t marry her anyway?”

Ramon says nothing.

“Christopher is going to Buck, and that’s final.”

——————-

Helena and Ramon don’t show up for the third therapy session.

Their plane tickets were only for three weeks, originally, and as the days run out, they don’t talk about extensions.

———-

Helena is sitting out in Isabel’s backyard, trying to conjure up that feeling of serenity she got to bask in for all of two minutes the night of the birthday party.

It’s not working.

They’re going back to El Paso tomorrow, leaving their relationship with Eddie in worse straits than when they arrived.

There’s always been a tension between them and Eddie, but there’s also always been love and respect, and that love and respect formed a polite barrier around the things they couldn’t talk about. It kept their relationship safe. Kept them from getting too close to real honesty where things hurt in ways that couldn’t be walked back.

It feels now like that barrier has fallen. That Eddie’s finally reached the limit of what he could hold back and now there’s nothing to help them pretend everything is okay. Nothing to help Helena believe this is all something that could blow over.

That’s to say nothing of Christopher, who’s never felt as far away as he does now, even while they linger in the same city, only a couple dozen blocks away.

Helena scrolls listlessly through her phone’s camera roll for the last few weeks. There are pictures of Christopher mostly, but Eddie and the rest of the family are there too. It hurts to notice how Eddie is markedly happier in the shots where he’s looking away from the camera. Away from her.

Mom, listen…

Helena opens up Instagram and lets herself forget for a moment that anything is wrong. On Instagram, there is only joy and fun. And Buck.

Eddie hasn’t posted anything to his account in months but starting from the end and working backwards, Buck features heavily. He’s in at least a third of the pictures, usually with Christopher. One of the posts includes a short video that she watches. It’s of the day they unveiled the adapted skateboard, and it nourishes her soul. There’s no sadness here, or tension, only pure radiating happiness and excitement. It’s magical.

And it’s meaningful.

Mom, listen…

Helena is out of her chair and pocketing Isabel’s car keys before she can talk herself out of it. The drive to Eddie’s house is made with a carefully blank mind. She knows if she lets herself think about what she’s going to say, she’s going to spiral and get to a place where all this fear and sadness turn dark and ugly, and she can’t afford to risk it.

Finally, she’s knocking gently on a front door she’s only seen three times in the weeks she’s been here.

Buck answers the door.

————-

The house is quiet when Helena steps in.

She doesn’t bother taking her shoes off this time, she’s not sure how long she’ll be allowed to stay. But she notices that the space where her shoes would have gone is taken up by a pair of large boots she imagines fit perfectly on Buck’s feet.

Buck disappears into the living room and she follows quietly after him. The lights are off but the muted tv glows brightly enough for her to see Eddie reclined on his back on the couch, sleeping, and Buck sitting down on the edge of the coffee table to shake his arm.

Eddie’s always been a light sleeper, especially after the army and Christopher. He doesn’t wake easily now.

He’s wearing the sling, but it’s the only indication that anything is amiss with him. There’s no sign of pain or worry on his face, no tension in his shoulders. He’s practically melted into the recesses of the couch. He’s a picture of comfort. And why shouldn’t he be? He’s in his home, away from family, from expectations, and judgements. Just him and Christopher. And Buck.

Eddie finally takes a deep breath that shows his body is coming around but his eyes stay closed. Buck is murmuring something but she only catches, “ — mom — here.”

Then, at last, Eddie’s eyelids part, and the deep laxness of his body disappears almost in the blink of an eye.

“What?” he croaks, already trying to sit up.

Buck’s hands are already moving to support his back.

“ — says she wants to apologize.”

Eddie scoffs and sits upright, feet firmly planted on the floor as he blinks himself awake.

“Mom?”

“I’m here,” she says, stepping closer into the light of the tv.

Buck catches Eddie’s eye and they have an entire conversation in five silent seconds that ends with Buck nodding and getting up from the table, watching Helena warily as she approaches further.

“Watch your eyes,” Buck says quietly to Eddie before flipping the wall switch and illuminating the room. He lingers for a moment, clearly undecided about leaving, before saying, “I’ll be in the kitchen.”

Finally, Helena is alone with her son in his home. The quiet is almost peaceful, she doesn’t want to break it. Eddie does instead.

“Buck said you wanted to apologize, so I’m assuming he misheard,” Eddie says wryly.

There are pillow creases on the side of his face and Helena can’t remember the last time she saw him look so disheveled, so at home. It makes her heart ache for the days when she’d have to force him out of bed at noon on weekends, drive him to wrestling practice early in the morning, watch over him as he slept sometimes, just to make sure he was okay.

“Shockingly, no,” she smiles sadly.

Eddie blinks up at her for a moment before shifting down on the couch, leaving her some room to sit. She takes the invitation, but once she’s sitting down with Eddie’s full attention on her, she realizes not preparing what she wanted to say might have been a mistake. She has no idea where to begin. What scab to pick at that won’t cause more bleeding.

Then she remembers Adriana’s words.

What is it, under all the posturing, all the hurt feelings, all the history and baggage...what is it she actually, truly wants to say?

“I’m sorry I missed therapy.”

Eddie huffs a surprised laugh. “Of all the things…”

“I know, I know,” she rolls her eyes. “But I am. I…” She forces herself to slow down and consider her words. “I realize that therapy was an olive branch for you. One we took way too late and I’m...I’m just so fucking grateful we were able to take it at all, in the end.”

The tears are coming and there’s nothing she can do to stop them. They gather in the corner of her eyes and she tries to blink them away but has to settle for wiping away the ones that fall anyway.

“You were right,” she says. “You said — and your sister said, and the therapist said — that there’s a lot of hurt, and it’s become too hard to...to connect with each other because of it. And therapy is probably the only bridge through that. So even though I was pissed at you, I should have showed up.”

She hazards a look up at Eddie to find his brown eyes wide and cautiously wondering.

“Therapy is what’s going to help us and the only way to fail at it is to not show up.” It’s what the therapist had said in their first session. It had sounded like an easy thing to do then. “And that’s not okay. I’m not going to do that again.”

Eddie nods and looks away. His fingernails are flicking nervously against each other — a habit he picked up from her. “Is dad on the same page as you?”

Helena takes a deep breath, and blows out, “No, your dad is looking for a match to light the page on fire.”

Eddie rolls his eyes but there’s heavy hurt behind the indifference.

“I hid all of them,” Helena offers, “and left Abuela with the fire extinguisher.”

That gets a small smile.

“I really expected you to be more pissed about it than him,” Eddie says, he reclines against the arm of the sofa but no part of him looks comfortable with this conversation.

“Oh, I am—” The rage swells up in her. The outrage and indignation. But again, Adriana’s voice comes to her. “I...am...really, truly hurt, Eddie. I feel...I feel like you told me I’m not good enough to love Christopher how he needs.”

Eddie’s face collapses with disbelief. “You mean the way you’ve been making me feel since he was born? Are you kidding me?”

“What?”

“Since the moment Shannon got pregnant, you’ve both been hammering it in on us that we’d never be enough, we’d never be good enough for him. Why do you think I joined the army? Why do you think Shannon ran?”

The accusation makes her breathless, it makes that familiar rage bubble up closer to the surface. “Shannon made her own choices, you’re not going to pin that on us. And so did you.”

“No, I can’t pin that on you. She did choose to leave,” he concedes, his voice hardening. “But you spent five years telling her over and over that nothing she ever did was good enough, and when I got back you did the same to me! ‘Don’t drag him down with you.’ Does that ring any bells?”

“I spent five years helping her, being a second parent to Christopher when she was in over her head. She needed help. She wasn’t cut out—”

“No, she wasn’t,” Eddie agrees. “Neither of us were. We were stupid fucking kids who barely knew each other. She was supposed to get back on a plane to California when the semester was done and instead we got married in the backyard because you told us that’s what we had to do.”

“Jesus Christ, Eddie. You want to blame me for Christopher being born? For raising him in a family with two parents?”

“You’re not listening,” Eddie spits.

“I’m listening to you say over and over how I ruined your life because I didn’t let Shannon get an abortion. And that’s somehow the reason to keep us out of Christopher’s life now?”

“No, you’re not—” Eddie closes his eyes and clenches his jaw. “I love Christopher with everything I am. If I had the chance to go back and do everything differently, I wouldn’t. I would never. Being his father is the most important thing I’ve ever done.”

“Then what are you saying?”

“I’m saying, I was a kid in over my head and my parents didn’t know what was best for me. Didn’t know how to help me. And I figured that out on my own, I grew up and became the man I am now on my own.” She wants to argue but he’s on a roll. “And that’s fine, no parent is perfect. I know I’m going to make mistakes and I hope to god Christopher can forgive me, so I need to forgive you yours. But I need you to see me, now. I need you to look at me and realize I’m not that kid you put in a suit in the backyard. I’m not the kid that signed up to get shot at instead of facing his life. I’m not that kid anymore, mom. I’m not.”

“I see that, Eddie.”

“No, you don’t. Because if you did, you wouldn’t constantly be telling me I need to move back to El Paso to take proper care of Christopher. You’d see that our lives are here now. I have a job I love and pays what we need. Christopher loves his school, his friends. He’s a popular, genius kid. He’s happy. I’m happy. And we’re doing good. But you don’t see that. You see that dumbass, scared kid making his next mistakes. And I’m sorry but I’m not going to let you drag me back into that spiral. If you need to be the parent to that kid, I can’t be the kid you’re parenting. I’ve grown up, mom.”

“So,” Helena clears her throat, hoping the waver in it will clear too. “That’s what the guardianship is? We...lost sight of you growing up. We didn’t give you what you needed. So you’re punishing us?”

Eddie sighs as if she didn’t understand.

“No, you know what? No, I’m sorry,” she switches tracks, her voice hard, “how are we supposed to see this new person you’ve become, Eddie? You left El Paso, left us behind, you won’t come home for holidays, you even stopped posting on Instagram, and when we come here to see you’re alive you won’t even let us into your home. So how? How are we supposed to see this magical transformation when you won’t let us in?”

Eddie watches her for a moment, weighing his words. “You show up for therapy.”

And that takes the wind out of her sails.

That’s what she came here for.

To apologize.

Not keep yelling.

Mom, listen…

Helena takes two deep breaths and crooks a smile. “Yeah.”

“You yell a lot.”

Christopher’s voice startles them both, pulling a short grunt of pain from Eddie as his shoulder jerks back. Christopher is leaning against the wall into the living room, wearing the disgruntled pout of someone who was woken up for no good reason.

“Christopher…” Eddie begins, trying to leverage himself off the couch.

Helena pushes him back down, and turns to Christopher, opening her arms.

“I do,” Helena admits softly, as Christopher comes over and leans into her side. “I do yell a lot. I’m...trying to yell less.”

“Dad never yells.”

Eddie smiles tiredly.

“Hmm,” Helena agrees, “I think there’s a lot of things I need to learn from your daddy.”

Christopher nods, his eyes drooping. “He’s the best,” he says, snuggling into her shoulder. She’s getting on a plane tomorrow so she takes the opportunity to relish in this hug, and press a long kiss on his curls.

“Ah, I thought I heard an escape artist on the prowl,” Buck says as he turns the corner.

“We woke him up,” Eddie says redundantly. “We’ll keep it quiet now, buddy.”

“K,” Christopher mumbles.

“Okay, buddy, let’s get you back to bed” Buck says quietly as he leans over to carefully scoop him into his arms. Christopher’s arms loop around his neck like he’s done it a million times, and his head falls to Buck’s shoulder.

“Buck’s the best too,” Christopher mumbles.

Buck’s ducks his face away.

“That’s what I hear,” Helena allows in a tone she hopes is gracious.

As they leave, they can hear Christopher say, “they stole your bed.”

Buck responds but it’s too quiet for them to follow the rest of the conversation.

Eddie ducks his head and sighs.

“That’s why you were keeping us away?” Helena asks, her voice more gentle than she thought she could muster at this point. “Because Buck’s crashing on your couch?”

Now that she’s looking, she spots the folded duvet stacked on the chair in the corner, the pillows tucked neatly below. It only makes her more aware that she found Eddie sleeping soundly on the very same couch.

“I didn’t — I didn’t want questions. I didn’t want dad’s look, the same look he has every time Buck comes up. The same look—” Eddie sighs harshly. “I didn’t feel like fielding questions. He was here for Christopher when I was in the hospital and when I came home… He helps. A lot.”

Helena nods pensively, and surprises herself by finding a kernel of gratitude towards Buck burgeoning in her chest.

“So, speaking of fucking up as parents,” she begins with a crooked smile that fades by the end of the phrase. She doesn’t know how to finish that sentence so she starts a new one. “The...hurt that piles up, that makes it hard to talk through...does some of it come from Matty?”

She can see an instinct flare up in her son to shake his head and dismiss the topic, but he doesn’t let it take hold. It’s time to face this.

“It didn’t help,” he admits.

Eddie and Matty met in sixth grade and became best friends almost instantly. They spent weekends in sleepovers, fought off other classmates to be each others’ group project partners, and spent every summer going to the same camps. Matty was an honorary Diaz before they even hit their teens.

Five years later, Matty came out to his family, and then to theirs. His parents took it well, Eddie’s parents didn’t.

The sleepovers stopped, the summer camps stopped, and if Ramon could have sent Eddie to another class he would have.

The day he came out to them was the last day he stepped foot in the Diaz home, a natural consequence of Ramon having run him out with caustic, angry words.

“We…” Helena licks her lips and looks away to gather her thoughts. “There’s a lot of reasons we reacted the way we did. Ignorance, more than anything. It really was a different world back then. But...the world has kept turning, things have kept changing and we can’t pretend to be ignorant anymore.” She looks Eddie in the eye to say, “we were wrong. We were wrong to chase him away. And if the day comes that Christopher is gay or trans or any of the other words we haven’t learned yet, we’re going to love him just as much as we do now.”

Eddie keeps her gaze for a moment before nodding. “I’m glad to hear it.” The way his shoulders gather near his ears says he doesn’t believe her though he’s trying.

Because when Eddie and Matty stood shoulder to shoulder to tell Ramon and Helena the news, Matty wasn’t the only one crushed. And they know, somewhere deep down, that their reaction was as extreme as it was because they were never fully sure if the hurt in Eddie’s eyes was on behalf of his best friend, or if they exploded before more news could be told.

And it still scares Helena to this day, to this very moment sitting on her son’s couch. It’s why they welcomed Shannon at first, the first girl Eddie really brought home, even though they didn’t approve of her overall.

But she knows now that there’s nothing anymore, not her pride, not her ignorance, that will stop her from trying to bridge the gap between them. So she continues deliberately, “and if this new, grown up version of you comes with any of those words, we’re not going to love you any less either.”

His eyes widen and for a moment she’s looking at her 17 year old son in the living room, eyes wide as Matty runs out of the house. She wishes this moment could replace that one, stamp out that mistake forever. But it can’t, so she has to make this one count even more.

“I’ll still be here, and I’m listening. I...I see you,” she says. “You and Christopher. I see you settled in so well here, even now with your injury.”

Eddie remains quiet, but apprehension creeps across his face and his eyes dart behind her where Buck and Christopher disappeared.

“I see the boots at the entrance,” she continues, her voice pitched low, “the extra toothbrush you forgot to hide away. The tupperwares full of food Isabel and Ana didn’t make. But more than anything, I see Buck. Everywhere.” A smile creeps up her lips. “The only place I didn’t see him was at brunch with Ana and call me crazy but I feel like you would have preferred he was there too.”

Eddie’s lip is being chewed to within an inch of its life, and his eyes are trained on the couch cushion.

“Hey,” she taps his knee. “You...grew up to be a good man, and a good father.” The words are so many years too late but she’s grateful to see them land as Eddie’s eyes begin to shimmer. “And you deserve everything you want for Christopher. Happiness, whatever that looks like.”

Eddie swallows thickly and clears his throat. “And dad?”

“Dad...has his head too far up his own ass to see or hear anything,” Helena admits. “But he’s due for a colonoscopy soon so I’ll work on it.”

Eddie chokes on a laugh that catches him off-guard and suddenly they’re both laughing, quietly so they don’t wake Christopher up again.

When they recover, Eddie invites her to the kitchen for a drink, where Buck is packing Christopher’s lunch for school tomorrow.

When she leaves, her stomach is in knots she imagines won’t smooth out for a few weeks yet, but a weight’s been lifted off her chest and her heart is full in a way it hasn’t been in years.

When she lands in El Paso, her phone pings with a message from Eddie: Hope you had a good flight. Free Friday for a call?

———-

When Friday comes, after catching up with Christopher, Eddie tells them he broke it off with Ana.

Helena digs her nails into Ramon’s knee instinctively, but she prepared him well and despite his continued reservations, all he says is, “That’s too bad, mijo.”

———-

Two months of virtual therapy and video chats later, Eddie tells them he’s bisexual. They react the way they should have all those years ago, and Helena tries to be grateful they got to have this moment at all instead of mourn for the years Eddie lost because of them.

There’s no mention of Buck, but Eddie’s eyes flit fondly over the laptop screen every once in a while at Christopher and someone else off-screen.

The call takes place at 8am LA time, and the sling has been gone for nearly three weeks.

———

At Christmas, Eddie and Christopher are waiting for them with smiles on their faces at LAX’s baggage claim. When they get home, Buck is there opening the door and helping them with their luggage.

Isabel isn’t there to mediate but supper that evening goes smoothly. The tension that lurks is anticipatory on all sides, a feeling of this being too good to last. But by dessert, everyone is sitting back in their chairs and smiling. And when Buck rounds the table to start the clean up, he places a hand on Eddie’s shoulder, his thumb brushing the back of Eddie’s neck, and Helena watches as the last bit of strain melts out of his body.

The basket of gauze is nowhere to be found in the bathroom, nor is the purple toothbrush. Instead, there’s a third electric toothbrush standing in line with the rest.

Helena’s been keeping an eye out for opportunities to follow Adriana’s advice. To find the words she actually, truly means, and say them before she runs out of time. So before turning in, she takes Eddie aside and tells him, “I’m really happy you found your home here in LA. I’m really proud of the family you’ve made.”

And when she closes her arms around him, she can feel him fold into her like he used to as a kid, no polite distance or anxiety. Just comfort.

[spaceskam]

woke me up from the longest dream

Summary: Alex and Michael follow up on a lead and find something powerful.

Tags: canon compliant (for the most part), visions, road trips, my deep sky still sucks agenda

ao3

"Why is it so fucking cold?" 

"Welcome to Montana," Alex said dryly.

Michael made a face and shoved his hands in his pockets. He was doing his best to be mature about Alex inviting him on this trip. It was another loose lead he found and he was irritated that he didn't find it until after he came back home. Michael had offered to help after a grueling time in self-induced misery and Alex had agreed and he had planned to use this time to show Alex how much he'd grown.

However, there was something about being alone with Alex that made him feel a little like he hadn’t. 

"Are you not cold?"

"Didn't we deduce that your species is from a really cold planet due to your body temperature and the clothing Tripp described they were wearing?" Alex asked back.

Michael was used to a vaguely snarky Alex, it was in his genetic makeup. This was a different level though. Alex was in one of the worst moods Michael had ever seen him in that didn't result in a fight, instead it was all icy silence and irritated answers. Michael wasn't sure if it was because of his breakup with Forrest or if it was something else entirely. Maybe it was the fact that Michael was here at all.

He decided to keep quiet.

"You got me," Michael said, taking slightly bigger strides to keep up with Alex.

They were in a small town that served as a hub for a few even smaller towns that surrounded it. It had one small stretch of road with all the local businesses in it, a shabby hotel, a diner, and a farmer's market being the three biggest options. There were a couple others buildings, but Michael couldn't say what they were by just looking at them from the outside.

Alex seemed to know where he was headed though and he waltzed up to a building that was only identifiable by a sign that was meant to say CORRIE'S but was missing a few letters and said CORE instead. He pushed the door open and Michael followed. The inside had the heater blasting in a way that immediately smothered him, but he managed to keep his face even. It looked like a convenience store with only three rows of shelves in the middle. A sign at the back door read GAS PUMP IN BACK. Michael thought that was bad advertising.

"Hello," an older woman at the counter greeted. She seemed to be the only one here.

"Hey," Alex said, approaching her and turning on an easy smile. Logically Michael just knew he was being charming to get what he came here for. Illogically, it felt like Alex could be nice to everyone but him.

How many times could he tell himself to grow up? 

"What can I help you two with?" she asked. 

"Correct me if I'm wrong, but this place is owned by someone who used to live in Fort Belknap?" Alex said, not even beating around the bush to charm her more. That was the only thing to convince him it wasn't just him. 

The woman stared at him, face unchanging. 

"Who's asking?" 

"Holt," Alex said, smiling and tilting his head a little bit, "Carla Holt, to be more specific."

She breathed in and closed her eyes for a moment before opening them a few moments later. 

"Their timing has always been impeccable," she said, gesturing towards a door behind her, "Come."

"Who's Carla Holt?" Michael whispered to him as they followed. Alex grabbed his arm and squeezed, nearly causing Michael to fully trip over air. 

"Just follow my lead. Stay quiet," Alex explained quietly, "I'll tell you later."

And Michael did as he said. 

"You must be the littlest Manes boy," the woman said as she led them into a little office. It was cluttered and didn't really seem like the top secret place Michael was imagining. 

"Yes, ma'am." 

"Corrie," she corrected, "I never did like the sound of ma'am."

"Alright," Alex said, laughing lightly even though didn't reach his eyes, "My mother told me the same thing." 

"I bet so," Corrie said, digging through messy drawers of a desk. She sat down heavily into the beat up chair and started digging through a file cabinet. "I kept telling myself it'll eventually come and bite me in the ass, carrying secrets for someone I only hear from once every few years, but you never know what you're getting yourself into until after you're stuck."

"Yeah, I know how that feels," Alex sighed. Michael's eyes drifted to him. He avoided eye contact completely.

"I'll be honest, I wasn't expecting you. Your brother, maybe. Part of me expected your father to bust down my door more than anyone," she went on. Corrie pulled out a small box and opened it, looking in and making a face before closing it and tossing it over her shoulder. 

"Guess I'm the sucker who agreed to clean up duty."

Corrie laughed.

Truly, Michael expected more danger and more difficulty. He expected a fight or at least tension. Instead, Alex and Corrie made small talk about their shitty affiliations while Corrie dug through decades worth of clutter. Eventually, she pulled out a box and opened it and took a deep breath. She closed it again before giving it to Alex and Alex didn't reopen it so Michael had no idea what was in it. All he knew was that it went into Alex's bag.

"Thank you "

"Keep it safe," Corrie said, "Keep yourself safe." Then for the first time her eyes drifted to Michael. "You too. There aren't many of you left."

It was hot in the building, but somehow Michael felt like he'd jumped in ice water.

"Thank you."

"Mhm. Now get the hell out of my store before somebody follows you."

"Of course. Thank you again," Alex said politely and then he did as she said, turning on his heel and walking away. Michael wanted to stay and ask more–if she knew what he was, maybe she knew things he didn't and they could get rid of Mr. Jones–but Michael simply followed Alex's lead.

"Alex," Michael said, nearly having to jog to keep up. Alex opened the door of the store and a blast of cold hit Michael in the face, colder than before due to the extreme warmth inside. It took him a moment to reboot his mind enough to finish what he was saying. "Alex, what's in the box?"

Alex managed to close his eyes and shake his head in disapproval without slowing his pace. 

"Can you wait until we get to the hotel?" Alex asked, cold again. Michael nodded despite the fact Alex couldn't see him, deciding that a verbal answer probably would be annoying in itself. 

The problem with silence was that it was a sure way to get Michael to spiral. He had discovered very recently that being alone when he wanted to be alone the most was the worst idea. Now, he didn't want to be alone as much as he wanted answers. Walking in silence down a street while wondering what was in Alex's bag, who Carla Holt was, why Alex was angry, etc, etc, etc, was only making his mind race.

By the time they stepped into the lobby of the hotel, Michael was sure that Alex had just borrowed a bomb from an old lady and he was going to explode himself and whoever Carla Holt was was going to hunt Michael down in revenge. He of course didn't say that. Instead, he tapped his foot as Alex requested a room with two queens and didn't realized that the worker snorted because he was assuming they were two queens until after they were already heading to the room. 

"Should I go spit in his drink?" Michael asked when he realized. 

"No," Alex said, "You'd probably make it taste too sweet."

Michael again found himself stumbling over nothing and he looked at Alex, wondering what the hell was he talking about. But it was the nicest thing he'd said to him the whole trip and Michael decided to take it very personally. 

"You sayin' I'm sweet?" Michael asked, grinning. A smile pulled at Alex's mouth that he very quickly schooled, slowing as he came to their room. 

"I'm saying your saliva, and probably your other bodily fluids, have a higher concentration of a glucose-like chemical," Alex said, "As proved by Kyle and Liz when we got drunk."

"You guys drunkenly tested our saliva's glucose levels?" Michael asked, laughing a little. Alex finally speaking to him made his brain stop wandering as much. Not completely–he was still wondering about that box–but enough.

"We were talking," Alex said, unlocking the door with the keycard, "And noticed we all thought you three tasted sweeter than other people we'd kissed and, well, you know. So we did some tests."

"That's... Interesting," Michael said, letting the door close behind them.

Alex walked over to the bed closest to the door and carefully sat his bag down. Michael watched him, staying near the door. He was still unsure about where they stood. He knew Alex cared about him and he knew Alex didn't hate him, but he was also still holding him at arm's length. And then there was that box. He didn't want to push.

But Michael wasn't known for his patience. 

"Alex," Michael said, "What's in that box?"

Alex swallowed and looked up at him for a moment before patting the bed beside him. An invitation. One that made Michael's stomach drop and twist in 11 knots. But he walked closer, sitting beside Alex. Alex stared at him, his features slowly loosening up to betray his feelings. His eyebrows pulled together in that kind of worry that meant he felt like he was drowning, scrambling to pull himself to the surface and never able to get a good grip. Which would explain the coldness, he supposed.

"You know you can trust me, right? I'm... I'm working on not being so self-destructive, and, like, knowing I'm helping you out kinda helps when I feel shitty," Michael said. Alex huffed a small laugh and shook his head, dropping his chin to his chest for a moment. When he looked Michael in the eye again, he was back to being serious. 

"I did something stupid," Alex said, softly like it was a secret, "I agreed to something without knowing what I was getting myself into. And I'm kind of stuck right now."

"Stuck? What do you mean stuck?" Michael said, following his lead and whispering.

"I'm figuring it out, alright? Don't worry. I'll tell you later," Alex said, reaching out to squeeze his arm before dropping it back to the bed, "And I checked before we even left that I wasn't bugged and I've kept my eye out to know that we aren't being followed. And my computer definitely isn't. We're good. They're tracking me, but only to the extent I'm letting them. It's okay." 

"That doesn't sound okay," Michael said.

"Trust me like I trust you, alright?" He said. Michael reluctantly nodded. "I need you to hold something for me."

Michael blinked. "The box."

"Yeah."

"Who's Carla Holt?" Michael asked. Alex smiled softly

"It's not a who, it's a what. It's a code from my mom's side of things. She knows more about the alien shit than she let on," Alex sighed, "I didn't stand a fucking chance not being involved with this shit. My dad, my mom, you. So, you know, if you ever feel bad about that, it's my fucking destiny." 

Michael swallowed and nodded, feeling more eager by the second to know what was in that box. Needed to keep hearing Alex say how fated they were to know each other. Needed Alex to touch his arm again and smile.

"Okay," Michael said, trying to stay in his own space, "So we're fated. Cosmic connection. Called it."

Alex broke into a wide smile, genuine and welcoming as he shoved Michael's shoulder gently. "Shut up."

"Show me," Michael said instead. Alex's smile faded just a little.

"Do me a favor and double check our surroundings," Alex said. Michael nodded and tilted his head, sending a chair to lodge itself under the doorknob and pressed the curtains tightly to the wall. His eyes slid closed as he did a mental sweep of the building, not noticing anything out of order. When he opened his eyes again, Alex seemed to be closer. "Thanks." 

"Show me." 

Alex sighed and nodded, hesitantly reaching into his bag and pulling out the box. It was clear now that it was made of really nice wood, intricate carvings covering it. Alex handled it with an extreme care that Corrie didn't have with it. His eyes flickered between the box and Michael a few dozen times before he hesitantly opened it and Michael leaned closer to see.

"It's just a ring," Michael said, almost disappointed. It looked like a normal, silver band that was old and unpolished after years of being tucked away. 

"Not just a ring," Alex said, he kept his fingers very precise as he picked it up. Michael didn't miss the way it seemed to ripple at his touch.

"Something alien," Michael acknowledged.

"Something alien," Alex confirmed, "Most of the glass and even the rocks that you've had so far all seem to be crafted and at least heavily altered by your people to be as useful as they are. This... This was passed down as a pure substance that was mined and cut into a wedding band to mimic human customs." Alex looked at him. "It pre-dates your mother landing here, Michael."

Michael let out a shaky breath, eager and hungry for knowledge for the first time in a long time. He'd poured over Tripp's journal over and over, poured over Caulfield and Project Shepard records, all of it painful and sickening with an unhappy ending. And now there was something new– old –that might actually give him something more. Proof that aliens were here before his mother, proof that there was a reason they came to Earth of all places. More secrets he craved to uncover. He missed the feeling. 

"It's powerful and, as far as I can tell, the last of it left. The rest was probably destroyed with your planet. But it's old and... and sentimental. One of the older women on the reservation told me the sentimentality powered it more. Because it's not just a ring that symbolizes love or a bond between two people, but it's a new start. Blending the past they chose to leave behind together with something new and different. Safer and secure. Together," Alex said. Michael swallowed, eyes unable to break away from Alex's. Alex cleared his throat and looked back down at it. "That's what she said anyway. There was probably two at one point, but I'm sure the other is lost to time."

"Yeah, okay. Okay," Michael said, agreeing without hesitation, "I'll take care of it and keep it safe."

He went to grab it, but Alex pulled it out of his reach.

"Michael," he said, "When I say it's powerful, I mean the moment you put it on, something's going to… happen."

Michael hadn't really intended to put it on, but it seemed Alex knew him well enough to know that eventually he would. 

"What kind of something?" 

"I don't know, Michael. I just know legend says it has unspeakable levels of power. So, please, be careful with it. I'd prefer you do it with someone around in case it overloads you or something," Alex said. Michael didn't point out what Isobel had before–he was the only one who didn't have a limit.

"Why not just put it on right now?" Michael said, "We're in the clear and you're here. Why not?" 

Alex breathed in and out, staring at him with that same worried, downing look. Michael selfishly enjoyed it for a few moments–enjoying that he cared that much. So he smirked and held out his left hand, feeling confident.

"Go ahead, Alex. Put a ring on it," he said. A smile pulled at Alex's lips that he fought, but he relaxed his shoulders and grabbed Michael's hand with his empty one.

Alex's hand was warm. Michael was sort of obsessed with the feeling of it. Why hadn't they been holding hands this entire time? 

"I'm right here, okay? So if you need me to take it off or if you feel like you're going to lose control, let me know. Try not to throw me," Alex said. Michael rolled his eyes.

"I don't give a shit how much power I have injected into me, I'm not going to hurt you," Michael said. Alex raised an eyebrow. "Physically. Come on now, cut me some slack."

"Maybe," Alex said, putting the ring closer. Michael could feel it now that it was millimeters away from his skin, the power of it overwhelming. And Michael was intrigued. "Ready?"

"Always."

Alex slid the ring onto his ring finger.

The wave of power hit him instantly and, before he could adjust, sent him into a mindscape. Or–he thought it was. The room was damp and dark, unwelcoming. Michael looked around for something, someone, but he was alone. It was crowded with things, though, inventions and technological structures. It looked like his own lair but significantly less familiar, less comforting. 

“Michael?”

Michael turned towards the voice and saw Alex at the top of a ladder, staring down at him with a face that said he was doing everything to stay calm. He had red stains on his clothes. Michael stared at him, unsure what to do. Alex was down the ladder and centimeters away from him so quickly that it could only be achieved by him seeing something that wasn’t happening just yet.

“Are you okay?” Alex asked, “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize,” Michael said, instinctually, “Where are we? What is this place?”

Alex looked around the room, his face betraying his pain before he met Michael’s eyes again. Then his hand was on Michael’s cheek with a warm and grounding presence. Michael’s heart was about to burst out of his chest.

“My research,” he sighed, “Half of it’s destroyed anyway. Let’s go.” Michael didn’t really think that sounded right. This didn’t feel like Alex’s space. He’d been in enough of Alex’s spaces before to know what they felt like. This wasn’t it.

“Your research?” he said. Alex gave him a look and stroked his thumb over his cheekbone.

“I’ll tell you later.”

“Stop that,” Michael said, his voice sounding more irritated than he meant. He could feel the anger in his body, but he didn’t know the source. “Stop not telling me things. You keep doing that. You need to tell me.”

“You’re right,” Alex agreed, swallowing, “But we need to get out of here. I swear I’ll tell you once we get in the car. But we need to get out of here.”

“You promise you’ll tell me in the car?” Michael said. Alex nodded.

“I promise.”

They were upstairs just as fast as Alex had been downstairs. Michael saw blood. He turned his head to find the source, but Alex’s hand was back on his neck to stop him.

“Don’t look. Let’s just go to the car.”

“What, you tryna baby me?” Michael asked, “You know I’ve seen some shit.”

“Yeah, I know,” Alex said, still leading him towards the door as his thumb dug slightly into the muscle on his neck, “Doesn’t mean I have to show you more.”

Michael sucked in a breath and he was thrown back into his body, the power from the ring still thrumming through him and teasing a possible second surge. It was old and unused and desperate to stretch out some of it's pent up energy.

Alex was there, staring at him and holding onto him. He was so close, so real, and so was that memory that was just in the opposite direction. Michael stared at him, taking him in.

"What happened?" Alex asked, hands squeezing his biceps. His hand started to slide up, but stopped at his shoulder. "Hey, you with me?" 

"Yeah," Michael said, "I'm okay."

"What happened?"

"I think, uh," Michael breathed, swallowing. His throat felt dry again. The heat of the hotel seemed to work with the heat inside him; he was on fire in the best way. "I got, like, That's So Raven'd."

Alex blinked a couple times, his thumb moving in slow circles against his collarbone not too far from where it’d been moments ago in his vision. Michael wanted to let his eyes roll back into his head and just sink into the bed with Alex beside him and let this undeniable strength course through him.

"You saw the future?" he said, "Like one of Maria's visions?" 

"I think so," Michael confirmed, "Only… mine wasn't of something bad. I mean, not really, anyway."

"What was it?" Alex asked. 

Michael licked his lips, studying Alex for a moment. The ring on his finger fit perfectly as if it was made for him. The power it gave settled nicely in him, pulsing and eager to be used just a little bit more, but in a childish, playful way. It wanted to stretch after too many years being cooped up.

"Hey, I'm going to try to see something else," Michael said. Alex's eyes went wide as saucers.

"What? Tell me what you saw the first time," Alex pressed, his hand shifting just enough to cup the side of his neck. Michael layered his hand over his, feeling bold and unperturbed. At some point, they were going to get there. He was sure of that more now than ever. 

And he wanted to see more.

" Michael ," Alex said, but Michael closed his eyes and breathed in, letting the power in the ring take him somewhere else.

And he was somewhere else. 

He was standing at the end of a driveway. He looked around and tried to grab some sort of identifier, but all he saw was a house behind him and then a school bus headed towards him. It stopped in front of him, a kid stepping off and running towards him with a backpack almost as big as she was. 

"Daddy!" the kid yelled and Michael tried his damnedest to act like he was meant to be here as the little body slammed against his legs for a welcoming hug. "Is Dad home yet? Can you tell him to get ice cream? I think we need ice cream."

"Oh, you think we need it?" Michael asked, walking with the kid towards the house. It felt natural, oddly enough. 

"Yes," the kid said simply, running towards the door. She threw it open and Michael laughed and jogged the rest of the way. He could hear her already telling a story about school and he was trying to stay close enough to follow.

He walked into a foyer, pictures lining the wall. Family portraits.

Him and Alex. The three of them.

When Michael came back to his senses, Alex was right there again and staring at him without faltering. The ring was still alive, but it was at a sated hum now that it had been used a few times. He wondered how it would feel doing something he understood. He couldn’t wait to try.

“Hey,” Alex said, soft and comforting as he welcomed his weight. The vision he had was definitely not what he was looking for, he wanted to know more about Alex’s research and why it all felt so wrong and where the hell they were, but the second one… 

“Hi,” Michael said, breathing and his eyes drifting down to his lips. Michael had experienced a lot of urges to kiss Alex before. Somehow this felt more dire.

“Please don’t do that again,” Alex said, “Maybe we should take it off.”

Michael shook his head carefully, eyes scanning him, “No, it feels fine now. It just needed to be used after being in a little box for decades. It’s good. Feels good.”

“Okay,” Alex said, still clearly hesitant. His fingers played with the hair at the back of Michael’s neck. There were two beds, but Michael was trying to figure out how to convince him to share one. They could fit. They’d shared smaller. “What’d you see?”

Michael breathed deep, wanting to get closer. He kept his hands to himself no matter how much he wanted to touch. He was being good. To get to where those visions said he was headed, he had to be good. Good for himself and Alex.

“Tell me what’s going on,” Michael said softly, “What are you researching? Who are you working with?”

Alex blinked once, twice before dropping his hand off of Michael. Which definitely hurt, but the fact that Alex didn’t move away definitely helped. 

“What did you see?” Alex asked again, more pressing, “I know you saw that I’m researching something.”

Michael shrugged. He technically did, but he didn’t see anything identifiable. He didn’t know what it was. He would like to. Then again, he’d always wanted to know everything about Alex Manes.

“I didn’t see what,” Michael said, “I just saw that someone’s going to fuck with it. I think. I don’t know, we were in this basement looking thing and it felt really off and, and not like you, but you said your stuff was in it. And you had blood on you and when we went upstairs, there was more blood. But you said not to look. I don’t know what you did or what happened, but, like, if you told me, maybe we can prevent it getting that extreme.”

Alex stared at him for a long moment. 

“You saw that both times?” Alex asked softly. Michael hesitated before shaking his head. “What else did you see, then?”

“Um,” Michael breathed, trying to think of the right words to say, “Uh. I don’t think, um…”

“ Michael.”

“Family portraits,” he said carefully, figuring that was easier to start with than a whole person who called them dad, “Like, ours. Um. I know we don’t belong in suburbia, but I guess we fucking get it anyway.”

He laughed. It wasn’t funny, but it was easier to say it like it was a joke. Alex looked at him, face confused.

“Suburbia? Like. White picket fence kinda thing?” Alex asked. Michael took a slow breath.

“I, uh, I didn’t see a fence, I was too focused on the‒” he stopped, licking his lips. Michael rubbed his thumb over the ring. It seemed to purr at the attention. Michael couldn’t wait to get back home and see what he could really do.

“On the what?” Alex prodded, reaching out to rest his hand on his leg and reigniting the contact. It felt so good. Michael really liked when he was touchy, it was his favorite thing about Alex.

“Um,” Michael breathed, feeling drunk off the attention and the ring all at once. He thought about lying, maybe that they were babysitting because that was close enough, but he was so tired of lies and half-truths and I’ll-tell-you-laters. “On the kid.”

Alex froze for a moment, “The kid?”

“Yeah,” Michael said, shrugging softly, “I, uh, I guess she was ours. She was calling us dad. Do we have any water? My throat is super dry.”

“I… I don’t think you’re seeing the future then, I’m never having kids. Do you realize how awful of a parent I would be? Awful. Neglectful. That’s not… And after I clearly fucking hurt people?”

“Maybe not,” Michael said, not about to argue right now. He was too busy feeling good. Alex kept his hand on his knee. “But whatever it was, it was good.”

Alex stared at him, quiet and clearly thinking things through. Michael let him. It was easier to give him space and time now. He’d gotten better at it before his visions, but they solidified to him that they were on a good path. It felt like they were making good choices and taking good steps. This was just a part of it.

Alex eventually took a deep breath, looked him in the eye.

“I’m gonna tell you what I’m doing, but you have to promise you’re going to stay out of it and trust me,” Alex said, “You promise?”

“I promise.”

“And you’re gonna promise to be honest with me?” Alex said, “And stay safe. Like, seriously. Don’t be reckless just because. I know you.”

I know you.

“Yeah. I’m doing better now,” Michael said, stretching his hand out, “I am. But I’m… I’m tired of not doing shit together. Doing stuff separately always gets us in shitty situations, Alex, I wanna be a team. Can I be on your team?”

Alex swallowed and moved his hand up, tucking Michael’s hair behind his ear.

“Yeah. Be on my team. Let’s be a team,” Alex said. He shifted and Michael waited patiently, watching him. “Okay, so. Deep Sky. It’s… it’s got some good people, I think, but it’s overall fucked. I don’t trust anyone in there, but it’s where I’m doing my research. Sort of. So I’ll tell you.”

It almost felt too good to be true to hear, but he didn’t need the ring to know that Alex was being honest. It showed him anyway. Truthfulness radiated off of him in vibrant blues and whites. He didn’t even need to get in his mindscape to be sure of it. It was strange to feel like that was unnecessary, like his body didn’t need confirmation because it already knew.  It didn’t feel like he was stepping off a ledge. He hoped Alex had the same confidence, wondered what would happen if he put the ring on him.

If Alex still felt like he was stepping off the ledge, he was going to be sure to catch every inch of him this time. No piece would hit the ground like all the times before.

He was going to make this work.

“Everything?” 

“Everything.”

[submissivekillers]

Yo yo yoooi! Can I please have a lost boys x vamp reader who’s like the very first vampire to be born and she comes and meets the boys cause she’s traveling across the world to visit all her “children” - so basically ancient ass vamp reader who looks 20 something meets the lost boys cause she’s meeting the rest of her kind

like what i do? support me on kofi

ngl i basically pictured reader as a pre-milfication lady d while writing this jhgfdsa. brainrot!! also mild max slander

length: 2.2k

If there is one rule you’ve managed to learn over the long years of your existence, it is this: humans will take any opportunity to make fools of themselves. 

Santa Carla is no exception.

Even in the early morning before the hordes of hormone-addled humans descended on the beach, the air had been heavy with smoke and blood and sex, so strong it almost overpowered the scent of the sea even when you'd peeled off your sandals to wade in. In its own way, it's exhilarating; the anticipation had your old blood stirring, your excitement mounting as the sun dipped low and the crowds swelled. From the window of your little motel room, you'd had a wonderful view of the flood of humans that spilled onto the boardwalk, the vast majority of them young and already inebriated to some degree. Ripe for the picking.  

It's not humans that you're hunting for tonight, though. At least, not yet.  

At a leisurely pace, you wander the boardwalk, taking your time to enjoy the local color. You indulge in a vivid blue cloud of cotton candy, try a couple rides, win yourself a stuffed whale after breaking a few bottles and promptly gift it to the first kid you see. A belligerent twenty-something who stinks of beer tugs at the hem of your white dress as it swishes around your thighs and you break his wrist without a second thought, disappearing into the crowd long before his scream of pain is lost in the echo of blaring music and shrieks of sugar-fueled glee. 

You're in line behind a gaggle of chattering teens at an ice cream stand when your nerves prickle, feeling the weight of eyes on the back of your neck. Without turning, you inhale, nose wrinkling as the acrid smell of old blood fills your nose. They absolutely reek of the stuff - it's so strong that you're a little surprised even the humans aren't picking up on it. But then again, maybe they just can't pick it out under the layers of weed and exhaust smoke.

The teens disperse, laden with several precarious cones of ice cream, and the bored woman behind the counter waves you up. You open your mouth, but there's an arm around your waist before you can say a word, a cool body pressed against your side. A ringed hand slaps a crumpled five-dollar bill on the counter, mismatched bracelets jingling with the motion. 

"We got the lady's order tonight, Peggy," comes a voice from your other side. You glance over the top of your glasses (cheap, heart-shaped things rimmed in vivid pink, scavenged from last night's meal) and meet the gaze of a cherubic blond, his pale blue eyes calculating as he worries his thumbnail between his teeth.  

The arm around your waist squeezes tighter. You turn your head, tilting your chin slightly so you can lock eyes with another pair of baby blues. They sparkle at you mischievously as your fellow vampire, bends to whisper in your ear, teased blond mane tickling your nose. "What can I get for you, baby girl?" 

You make a show of considering your options, pouting faintly as you prop a hand under your chin. You slip your other hand around his waist, idly toying with the mesh of his ridiculous fishnet top and grinning when he shivers at the scrape of your painted nails. "Chocolate shake, I think," you murmur, looking up at him through your lashes. "Are you getting anything?"

Rocker boy shakes his head, tips you an exaggerated wink as he shoves the fiver towards the increasingly petrified-looking cashier. "Nah, all yours tonight."

"Sweet of you," you chirp, popping up on tiptoe to kiss his cheek. He beams at you sunnily, shooting an excited glance at the cherub over the top of your head.

Peggy pushes your shake over the counter, lid only half-on in her haste to get the three of you away from her little stand. You manage to flash her a smile (aiming for sympathetic, but perhaps landing closer to smug) before you're pulled away, happily taking a sip of your drink as the cherub comes to walk at your side, trapping you between their bodies. You address the rocker first, catching the way his eyes dart down to catch you licking the ice cream from your lips. "You got a name?" 

"You can call me Paul, baby," he purrs, then wiggles his brows at you suggestively. "Or daddy, if ya want." 

You snort around the straw of your shake, unable to resist the grin that tugs at the corners of your mouth. It's definitely one of the more low-effort pickup lines you've ever heard, but something about him - the goofy little eyebrow waggle, the answering grin when you laugh at him like he knows exactly how ridiculous he is, his overall puppyish manner - manages to push it over the line from sleazy to charming. "You should be so lucky."

"I'd be the luckiest man in the world, I think," he flashing you a smile that's slower, more seductive than his cheesy grin - the kind of smile that would make any pretty young human a little more willing to spread their thighs. 

It's perhaps more effective on you than you care to admit, but you ignore the lazy heat that curls down your spine, turning to bat your eyes at the cherub. "How 'bout you, handsome?" 

"Marko," he says shortly. His face is young, but he's definitely the older one here - you can always tell by the eyes. "And you're on our turf."

"What, a girl can't take a little vacation in peace? I thought this was a free country," you huff in mock indignance.

Marko narrows his eyes at you. "Free country, maybe. Not free hunting grounds." He gnaws his thumbnail again, scanning you like he's trying to judge a threat - though it seems he can't help lingering for a long moment on the bare skin of your thighs. "Mind coming with us? David wants to meet you." 

David. The name is familiar - Max's first, if you recall. From what you'd heard, he could be quite a territorial creature. 

Paul, perhaps mistaking your thoughtfulness for unease, squeezes your shoulder reassuringly. "Hey, you're not in trouble. We just wanna make sure you're cool, you know?" His thumb draws steady circles over the arch of your shoulder blade. "This is our turf, but if you're not gonna cause any trouble, you'll be okay." 

The expression on Marko's face makes you doubt Paul's optimism, but you play along, curling a hand around his bicep and leaning in. "But what if I like causing trouble?" 

Paul grants you another sunny grin. "Then you can cause trouble with us," he murmurs against the shell of your ear. "I bet we could show you a good time." 

Marko clears his throat, distracting you from your flirting, and you're suddenly aware of the scent of blood grown stronger - along with the pungent smell of motor oil. Looking ahead, you see a group of bikes before you, two more vampires leaning against their respective rides. 

Both handsome, and you can tell they're both strong - but it's clear from a glance which one is the leader. 

"Thanks for fetching our guest," the blond - David, you know instinctively - rumbles, his voice a warm, sardonic purr. He looks you up and down, the weight of his eyes like a physical thing. "Welcome to Santa Carla."

"Do you give all visitors a personal welcome?"

"Only the interesting ones." He smiles at you, the edge of a fang glinting in the light. "Come with us. There's someone you should meet." 

You lift a brow. "Oh? And here I figured you were the one in charge around here?" 

"I am, don't get it twisted," he shoots back lazily, pulling a battered pack of cigarettes from inside his duster. "But our sire wants to meet you." 

"Ah, so you're the lead enforcer," you muse, nodding. David gives you a look caught between exasperation and amusement and takes point as you're herded after him. "And you?" You chirp, turning to the dark-haired boy who walks behind you. 

He blinks languidly at you. "...Dwayne." 

Strong and silent. You can appreciate that in a man. 

You're lead to a video shop in the center of the boardwalk, fielding Paul's flirting, Marko's questions, and Dwayne's cautious stare as you go. David walks slightly ahead of the rest of you, puffing on a cigarette and occasionally glancing at you out of the corner of his eye.

As you approach the door you hear Dwayne sniff, his rumble of "Maria's not here yet," barely audible even to your heightened senses. 

"Good," David murmurs, pulling open the door with a merry chime of the little bell. He bows his head, making a sweeping gesture to usher you by. "After you."

Drifting inside, you're assaulted by flickering screens and lurid posters, a storm of color and noise. You run a fingertip down the spine of a videotape, but a whimper draws your attention. Bending at the waist, you catch sight of Max's hound hiding under a desk, watching you with ears pinned flat to his skull. 

Shame, really. You found him rather cute, but the beast had always been terrified of you. 

A familiar scent reaches your nose, and a familiar face follows soon after - though he's changed significantly since the last time you saw him. The trappings of the modern world suit him well, you have to admit; the thick glasses lend a sort of non-threatening charm to his face, which you suppose is the point.

"Thorn, what's gotten into"—he stops so quickly his shoes squeal against the floor, the friendly shopkeeper guise dropping in the space of a blink—You." 

"Maxie." You greet, inclining your head. "You look... alive. In a manner of speaking, of course." 

He steps between you and the hound, hands curled into tense fists at his sides. "What are you doing here?" 

"Just sightseeing, really," you say soothingly, holding up your hands in surrender. "Figured the time was ripe to catch up with the world, see how all my little birds are doing. Carmilla sends her love, by the way." 

"This is my territory," Max hisses through his teeth, eyes bleeding yellow. "You know you can't be here without prior notice, it's law—" 

You sigh through your nose and snap your fingers. "Maximillian, kneel."

He falls to his knees hard enough that the tile cracks under his weight. You step closer, lifting his chin to meet his furious glare; he visibly strains against your order, a vein pulsing in his temple. You have no doubt that he would tear your throat out if given the chance.

But you've been alive entirely too long to let a little upstart like Max get the better of you.  

"I'm not here to cause trouble," you say, calmly, but firm. "But I made the laws, Max. You would do well not to forget that." 

He bares his teeth at you, face fully transformed to reveal the beast within. You look at him impassively for a moment, then sigh, turning on your heel and edging past a stunned Dwayne. "I'll meet you outside, boys."  

You push through the door with more force than strictly necessary, the tinkle of the bell almost mocking your dampened mood. Disappointing. Max had always clashed with you, even if he lacked the nerve to do anything about it. You'd hoped that a few hundred years apart might have cooled his animosity towards you, but clearly that was too much to hope for. 

You suck on your straw, making a face at the airy rattle you get instead of ice cream. All out of milkshake, and still so thirsty.  

The bell jingles again, heralding the approach of Max's coven. "I apologize for not warning you," you say before any of them can speak, twirling your empty cup. "I did have a feeling Max would react badly to seeing me. He's always been a bit of a cunt when things don't go his way." 

"How old are you?" Marko blurts. 

"Don't you know it's rude to ask a lady's age?" You tut, waving a finger in mock-indignation. "Really. No manners at all."

David steps forward, eyes glittering in the neon lights. "You turned Max." 

"No," you say, smiling to show off the long, curving points of your canines. "But I turned his sire. And I turned the sire before her, too." 

Glances are exchanged. Dwayne and David hold each other's gaze for a long moment, then Dwayne breaks away to glance at Marko, murmuring something just quietly enough that you don't catch it. Paul smiles, curious and admiring, and when David looks back at you there's a cautious interest written in the lines of his face. 

"Tell you what," you purr, looping your arms around David's neck. His gloved hands come to rest on your hips, leather creaking as he idly kneads the flesh hidden beneath soft cotton. "My throat's feeling a little dry. Why don't you boys take me for a drink, and then I’ll answer a few questions."

[a-supernatural-writer]

Lost in the Shadows Pt.3

Previous Part      Next Part

Word Count: 2136

FemOC x Poly Lost Boys

Giggles erupted from Sarah and Danielle as they wobbled their way off one of the rides they decided to experience. They leaned on each other, Sarah’s arm wrapped around Danielle’s waist as Danielle had her arm around her girlfriend's shoulders. 

“If we go on one more ride, I swear I might puke.” Sarah giggled, trying to find her footing. 

Danielle waved a dismissive hand at her, “Oh, come on. I think the carousel is calling our name.” The brunette was trying to find her footing as well. It didn’t help that both girls were wearing chunky shoes that added at least an inch and a half to their height. 

Sarah looked at Danielle in disbelief, “Okay, I seriously think you’re doing this to torture me.” 

Danielle chuckled, “Hey, you wanted to ride the carousel in the first place.” She reminded the blonde. 

Sarah pouted. Her girlfriend was right. She wanted to ride the carousel when they first split from the group but then the two decided to go on the more intense rides to get the out of the way and then wind down to some of the more taimer ones. 

But, going on a few spinning rides kind of set Sarah back a bit and wanted to take a break. She loved going on rides but, she even knew she had to pace herself. 

Danielle smiled at Sarah, moving her face into the crook of Sarah’s neck, placing a light kiss on her skin, “Let’s take a break and sit down. I know that you need a breather.” 

Instead of diving back into the thrill of the rides, Sarah and Danielle took it upon themselves to find a seat and gather their bearings. The two leaned against each other as they watched different characters of people pass them by. 

Bright and beautiful colors danced across their eyes, the music from different rides and game booths mixed together to create a new melody.  “Never thought we would end up in California.” Sarah comments, fiddling with her gold thumb ring. 

Danielle hummed, leaning back against the wooden bench they were sitting at, “We would end up here eventually. If not now, maybe twenty or even forty years we would have moved here.” The entire group wasn’t up for staying in one place for too long. They would usually stay in one state for around ten to twenty years and then find a new home. 

Sarah nodded, “True… Though it may be good for all of us, you know? Opening our own music shop here, our band could finally gain some traction… Vanessa could find out what the source of the pull she’s feeling is.” 

The brunette nodded as well, “You’re not wrong.” Danielle then smirked, wrapping an arm around her girlfriend's waist, “I can also see you kill it on the waves whenever you take your board out.” 

Sarah giggled, “Now that’s something I’m looking forward to. It’s been so long since we’ve lived in a beach town.” Sarah lived for surfing. Louisiana had a few beaches that she could surf, but it never seemed to feed her thirst for the activity. 

She was grateful that their new home was Santa Carla. She could go out on days when she wasn’t working and enjoy the sun while she surfed. 

Sarah opens her mouth to say something, but her words die on her tongue when she smells it. A scent that she hasn’t smelt in years. Danielle’s smile disappears as the same scent fills her nose. 

The scent of half turned vampires on the Boardwalk. 

It was strong, so whoever the half vampire was, they were close. 

Sarah and Danielle stand from their seat, heads turning in every direction to find the source. Even with the multiple crowds of people passing them by, their own scents becoming but a footnote to the two females. 

Danielle’s eyes froze when they landed on a girl with long curly brunette hair, wearing a white tank top blouse, a decorated skirt, and way too many bracelets to count. She was holding the hand of a young boy that looked around the age of ten, shoulder length light brown hair and dried dirt smudged his face. 

Danielle nudged the blonde beside her, directing her attention to the pair. 

Sarah stared as the duo walked through the crowds. The scent was radiating off of both of them. They were both half turned vampires. 

The two females shared a look and decided that rides would just have to wait. If Santa Carla was their new home, might as well get to know any other creatures that were walking around. 

Hand and hand, Danielle and Sarah, set out on their path, following the girl and small boy within a reasonable distance. 

They couldn’t help but smile when they heard the small boy express his desire to go on the rides that they walked by. His big eyes looked up at the girl with hope and excitement. 

The girl just smiled, not really telling him yes or no to whatever ride he pointed at. She just seemed content with walking around the Boardwalk, not particularly interested in anything.

It was only when they approached the carousel did the boy start begging to go on the ride, “Please, Star!” 

Danielle and Sarah blinked at the girl's name. Star was definitely an interesting one, but it fit the beautiful female perfectly. 

Star sighed, crouching down to the boys height, giving him an apologetic smile, “I’m sorry, Laddie. Maybe tomorrow we can get some tickets?” 

The boy, Laddie, pouted at the fact that he couldn’t go on his desired ride. Of course, Star and Laddie were only given enough money to get something to eat and play a few games, much to his disappointment. 

And this is when Danielle and Sarah took the situation to their own advantage. The two walked up and Sarah took the first step, “Excuse me?” 

Star looked up at the two females, blinking at their appearance. They were both very beautiful in their own ways. She was pretty sure that they were new to town since she’s never seen them around. She stood from her crouched position, “Yes?” 

Sarah smiled softly, “Sorry to bother you, but we heard that a certain somebody wanted to go on the carousel?” She tilted her head to look at Laddie who had himself somewhat hidden behind Star. 

Danielle pulled out the last four tickets that she had in her skirt pocket, “We were actually gonna go on the carousel ourselves to finish our list of rides we wanted to go on. And we have two extra tickets.” 

Danielle tears the two extra tickets from the other ones, “Would you like them?” 

Star smiled at them, very surprised by their kind offer, “Oh, thank you. Are you sure?” Star asked, not knowing if this was a trick or not. 

Sarah nodded, “Please. They’ll just be going in the trash if we don’t use them.” 

Danielle held out the two tickets to Star who took them gently away. Star looked down at Laddie who was smiling at Danielle and Sarah, “Laddie, what do you say to the nice girls?” 

Laddie surprised all of the girls when he ran out from behind Star and hugged Danielle, “Thank you!” He exclaimed. 

Danielle chuckled, patting the top of Laddie’s head that was pressed against her stomach, “No problem bud. You’re not the only one who loves that ride.” 

Sarah raised her hand, accepting this fact, “Guilty as charged. Oh!” She gasped as Laddie hugged her just as he did to Danielle. 

Star stared in awe as Laddie easily smiled at the two of them. He was never like this with new people. Star briefly looked down at the tickets and then back up as Laddie pulled away from his and Sarah’s hug. 

“Would you-” Star stopped her sentence when they all looked at her. Star smiled when they waited for her to continue, “Would you like to go on together?” Star hoped that this was a chance at making new friends that could be separate from the boys. 

Danielle and Sarah glanced at each other, already knowing the answer. They nodded at Star’s offer and the four fell into the line for the carousel. 

The four officially introduced themselves as the line moved along. When it was their turn to climb onto the carousel, Laddie chose a white painted horse with gold and blue accents while Star stood off to the side. 

Sarah got on the horse opposite of Laddie, sitting sideways to face the two while Danielle leaned against the horses head. 

They continued talking about anything that came to mind. Star asked where they moved from, being surprised that they were from New Orleans. She was even more surprised when Danielle and Sarah exposed the fact that they and their band members, who were more like family, were opening a music shop on the Boardwalk. 

Star didn’t say much about herself but Laddie was happy to talk about what he liked and what his favorite things to do were. Danielle and Sarah smiled and listened intently to the boy, finding him absolutely adorable. 

Their smiles almost faltered once they reminded themselves what they were. Laddie was forever trapped in a ten year old boy's body. Even though he was only half, he still wouldn’t age and that wouldn’t change once he fully fed. The same went for Star. Physically she seemed around their age, but she would never grow old. 

But they pushed those facts away to enjoy their time with them in that moment. From what they could gather, both Star and Laddie were innocent as half vampires could come. 

By the time they exited the ride, Star really liked Danielle and Sarah. Laddie was in the same boat, wanting to hang around the girls for a little bit longer. 

“Thank you again for the tickets and for joining us.” Star thanked them again.

Danielle waved a dismissive hand at Star and then wrapping said hand around Sarah’s own hand, “No biggie. We really had a good time with you guys.” 

“I wish we could spend a little more time with you guys, but we have to meet back up with our friends.” Sarah apologized, smiling sadly when she saw Laddie’s smile falter a little. 

Star ‘ohs’ at the news, a little upset that they had to leave so quickly. Sarah felt bad that they suddenly had to leave them, “Don’t forget. We have our shop opening on New Years day, two days from now. You guys are always more than welcome to come and hang out if you want.” 

Danielle nodded in agreement, “Then you’ll get to meet our friends. I’m positive that they’ll love you guys.” 

Star and Laddie’s moods instantly lifted at their offers and at the idea of making new friends. “We’ll happily stop by.” 

Happy that Star took their offer, Danielle and Sarah say their goodbyes, waving at them as the females walk away. 

Once they were a good distance, the two broke into a run, following the scent of their two coven members that were lingering nearby. 

The girls slowed down when they saw Luis and Timothy walking by a couple of game booths, “Luis! Timothy!” Danielle called out to the boys. The boys stopped, letting the girls jog to a stop in front of them. 

“What’s up? Don’t we have ten more minutes?” Timothy asked, looking down at his watch in confusion. 

Danielle took a breath, “Half vamps on the Boardwalk.” She whispered out just loud enough for them to hear. 

Timothy and Luis tensed a little at the information but then quickly relaxed. “You’re kidding?” Luis asked, wrapping his shawl a little tighter around him. 

Danielle shook her head, “I wish we were. Sarah and I got to know them. A girl around our age named Star and a ten year old boy named Laddie.” 

Timothy ran a hand through his hair, “You said half vampires right?” 

The girls nodded. 

“That means a sire is somewhere in Santa Carla and there might be fully fledged vamps walking around.” Luis concluded. 

Vampires were never alone. Vampires grouped together in covens and their sires were usually not far away. And for all of them, that meant danger if they didn’t take the right precautions. 

In a way they were somewhat preparing for this. If Vanessa felt a pull towards Santa Carla, no doubt that pull was towards another vampire. And if there was one, there was always bound to be more. 

“Let’s find Vanessa and call it a night.” Sarah ordered more than she suggested to the others. 

The rest of the group agreed and headed out to find Vanessa who at the moment was dealing with her own situation that would change everything forever. 

[demxninyourdrexms]

The Lost Boys (1987) FF: Here Until Forever

{poly!lost boys x OC x Michael x Star}

Rating:  18+ (explicit) for all the reasons below

WARNINGS:  cursing/strong language, canon/OC physical altercations/violence, blood/gore/drugs/alcohol, adult activities (smoking, smut, kinks, polyamory, group sex, etc),  vampirism,  angst, death,  non consensual blood drinking.

A/N: First work I’ve done in YEARS after putting down the pen and notebook. I apologize if it goes all over the place or seems like a cluster f*ck. Honestly proud of the fact that I picked it back up again after....8 or so years? But yeah here ya go ha heathens.

The night settled in over Santa Carla as the boardwalk lights slowly lit up in sections. The boys were already out and about causing little bits of trouble. Star and Laddie had already gone off on their own, walking along down at the end of the boardwalk. Naturally, they stay closer to the stage to hear the music. They had just added the boy to the band of lost souls, and Star had been the one to watch over him when Dwayne wasn’t there. It had seemed like a normal night for the group in the sleepy little beach town. David led the troupe of boys around the rest of the attractions, causing a little ruff and tumble trouble here and there and getting kicked off the merry go round again.

 They listened to David, always have. More than how they were supposed to towards their ‘creator’, Max. They saw him as a joke, and even questioned how they even came to be in such a situation with him as their so-called father. David never trusted him nor liked him and had more presence within the group to direct them than he ever did. Max didn’t even treat them like his own, nor even like they were pretending to be: human.

They dealt with it, like they were supposed to do. Like they were told to, not by David, or Max, or even by their own volition. Max came to believe he was more capable of handling them and took too much pride in it. He wasn’t their ‘father’, far from it if anything, a filler. A pretty stage front for the humans so they could continue to lurk within the shadows. Max had gotten too much of an ego, and it was beginning to get to a point where even David was refraining from killing him himself. It was bad enough, that he had to be put in his place.

Star led Laddie towards one of the carnival games as the sea of people parted for what appeared to be a car meet up at the end of the pier. Cars filed in one by one, some full of inebriated party goers, others old time car junkies. Even a group of local bikers showed up to relax and talk about the metal death machines. Star smiled and watched as Laddie had managed to win a prize from the game and came darting over to Star to present her with the stuffed bear.

“Star! Star! Look, I won!” the brown-haired boy jumped up and down as he held it up for her to take.

Star’s face lit up and she hugged the bear tight to her. She leaned down and kissed his cheek as he hugged her around the waist. “It’s perfect, Laddie. We’ll set it on the bed with the other ones.”

He beamed up at her and took her hand as they headed down the boardwalk towards the carnival entrance. They got about a third of the way down the strip when Star stopped in her stride, frozen and holding onto Laddie’s hand tight. He looked up at her and frowned, seeing the look of shock across her face. He was still too young to understand, too pure. He could feel the change but couldn’t link it up to what it was or why he could feel it. Laddie was an innocent just as much as Star, and even then, was too new to this life.

“Star? What’s wrong?”

She could feel the shift in atmosphere around them, she knew he could too but didn’t understand quite yet. She also knew that if they could feel it from this far away, that David and the boys could too. It was strong and heavy, but also protecting, almost drawing them in towards the source. She tugged Laddie to her side and wrapped an arm around him tightly as she finally saw what seemed to be the source. An all-black ’76 mustang came around the corner and cruised down the walkway. The closer it got, the stronger the feeling got. The windows were so tinted that Star couldn’t see inside as it slowly crept by the two. The engine revved as it passed them and proceeded down towards the end of the pier where the car meet was happening.

David sat at a table with the boys closer to the end of the pier near the car meet. Marko and Paul sat behind him on the top of the table joking around with Dwayne leaning on a light pole near them. David went to light a cigarette when the feeling hit. He stopped with his lighter almost at the tip of the cigarette and glanced over at Dwayne, who looked almost as startled as he was. The joking stopped and they all looked between David and the direction the car was coming down the strip. He nodded towards Dwayne to find Laddie and Star, and quickly. Dwayne headed off after the two as Marko and Paul jumped up ready to go. David led them walking down the boardwalk as the car got closer to them. He wanted to go to it, to smile at it, but kept walking. He couldn’t draw attention or concern amongst the group. He knew who it was, and he knew that they knew. It was best to not do a reunion here in the middle of a sea of meat sacks.

Once it got right next to them, a small smirk did creep across his lips and he whispered,

 “Hey gorgeous.”

In his head he heard the faint voice back, a woman’s voice. Soft, yet radiating dominance and fondness.

“Hey handsome.”

The car revved its engine again and kept going on towards the end of the pier. David continued down the strip with Marko and Paul in tow, they reached the entrance gates and went straight for their bikes. Dwayne was already waiting with Star, Laddie on the back of his own bike. Star was talking quietly to him about how they would get him another bear when they came back tomorrow, as he had dropped it somewhere in the scramble to get back to meet up with the others. She looked over at David with a deep frown across her lips and a look of concern in her eyes. He held his hand up as a gesture for her to ease up, it wasn’t a danger to them. He went over and got on his bike, helping her onto the back of it as Dwayne leaned over to him.

“Didn’t think we’d get that sort of a hello when she came back.”

             David couldn’t help but smile now, Star wrapping her arms around him as he kicked up the stand of the bike and took on the weight. Marko looked over at them as he sat down on it with a raised eyebrow, toothpick in the corner of his mouth.

“We didn’t think she was comin’ back at all for a hot minute.”

Paul hit him on the shoulder and shook his head, but it was true. They had started to lose a bit of hope they had that they would be seeing that face again. David had even started to waiver in his faith he would hear her voice again. He looked down the length of the strip and smiled again before starting the bike. The rumble of the group echoed as they headed off into the distance to the cave. As the night went on and the activity died down, the same car rolled down the boardwalk slowly. It wasn’t in any hurry, as if looking at things, or for something. It came to a stop, and the driver got out as the headlights shone on a bear left in the middle of the walkway. She had dark, black wavy hair to match the car. The sound of the leather and metal buckles of her jacket was the only other thing that could be heard besides the click of heels on the wood panels of the strip. Stopping at the bear, she bent down to pick it up, lips donned with dark red lipstick forming into a soft smile as she looped the tag into the chain of her belt. She casually walked back to the car and got in, driving off into the soft lights of the sunrise as it threatened to break the horizon.

Star sat on the bed beside Laddie, who was curled up asleep as David walked out to check on them. Dwayne told him how Star reacted towards the events at the boardwalk, hoping he would go and ease some of her worry. Star and Laddie were new, and even though Star knew how things worked a little more, it didn’t change the fact that Laddie was turned while this old face was gone and wasn’t aware they had gained more family to her knowledge. Star had been turned before this person left, and didn’t know exactly how she would behave towards her, and especially Laddie. He was a kid, a child that was brought into a world of constant upheaval and life stagnancy. He couldn’t age, have friends outside the group, anything. He still questions why people say he’s missing on milk cartons or when they realize who he is and they have to be dealt with. 

He didn’t even understand why they had to leave all of a sudden, and why he felt funny when that car came around. He was just a kid, trapped in a world of endless rotation. Star traced David’s movements as he approached the side of the bed. He looked over towards Laddie slightly as he stood in the open darkness they called home for so long. He could feel Star tense up slightly as she looked down at her lap.

“She’s not going to hurt the kid, ya know.”

Star’s frown hardened and she looked up at him with cold eyes. “He’s just a boy, she doesn’t believe children should be given the life we have.”

“Yeah, well there’s more to the reasoning I did it than you know, Star.” David frowned and glanced over at the sleeping kid on the other side of her. “And for your information, I was given permission.”

“How? She wasn’t even here.” Star spat out the words as if he was lying. The smirk on his face only boiled her anger even more. 

“You forget too quickly, Star. The bond can only go so far, and is strongest with a first turned. “ He lit a cigarette and looked her in the eyes. “She left, but she didn’t go far. She’s been watching at a distance, and knew why I wanted Laddie so bad. Same goes for you, especially you.”

Star looked at him still with ice in her eyes. They didn’t choose this life, but forced into an option they literally couldn’t refuse. None of them had a choice as to how they became what they are, and now it was the only thing they knew, the only thing they could do. 

“All we are is trophies to you, to her. We had lives-”

“Your life was hanging by a thread and that kid was left for dead in the streets by his junkie parents.” David snapped back, his words becoming colder now. “He didn’t go missing, he was dropped in the middle of the boardwalk and left to eat out of the garbage.” He forced himself to relax a little and sat down in the old hospital wheelchair they managed to salvage years ago. Taking a drag from the cigarette, he fixed his gaze on the ornate bottle on the table across the cave floor.

“We all had lives, Star. Some of them were going to be cut short, others were taken from us out of our own accord. We only get to live once in this world, and we all got a second chance to be able to experience it. No, it’s not how most of us would want it to be. No, it’s not ‘normal’, but it’s a life. One we get to mold as our own and paint it how we would want our old ones to be.” He paused, leaning forward in the chair. His eyes soft, even with his demeanor, he meant every word that fell from his lips to her.

“It doesn’t matter where we came from or our pasts, she took us in and gave us a way to see the world and enjoy the company of each other. A band of solo misfits that became family, friends, we have that in each other.”

Star paused for a moment before looking back down at her lap. She hated to admit it, but he had a point. They all had stories, past lives that were ripped from them or so messed up for a person that it wasn’t fair, but this wasn’t fair either to her. She kept her mouth shut, rather keeping quiet than starting a fight while Laddie slept. She looked out the opening of the cave to see the impending sunrise, as did David. He sighed deeply as he stood up, stepping on the cigarette he threw on the ground.

“The bear will be back by the time we wake up.” He mumbled and turned his back towards her and started walking towards the narrow opening to the rest of the cave where the boys slept. “Be a good girl for Zoya….”

Star flopped back onto the bed, frustrated and exhausted. They hadn’t felt the draw of an aura for a while, and all of them were fighting it as much as possible while in the public eye. She looked over at Laddie to make sure he was still asleep before curling up in the bed. She closed her eyes and sighed, the conversation didn’t help ease her worry or anger at all. She opened her eyes and looked over at the cave entrance again before turning her back to it and falling asleep.

[aliypop]

On The Prowl

David x OC x Dwayne 

Word count : 1,265 

Warning : Smut mild language  ( In French) 

A/N : Thank you to @a-supernatural-writer​ with helping me the develop this idea! So heres more Tiffany and the boys! gosh I haven’t written smut in awhile so I hope you guys like it! and if you do let me know if you guys what a part 2?

"I'm just about as seductive as a cabbage..." Tiffany sighed, looking at both her lovers and then onto her meal. Although New Orleans was crawling with vampires, Tiffany had still been getting used to being able to hunt on her own. "Lust mon amour comes from charm... bewitch them how you bewitched me." Tiffany only nodded as she gave a gentle smile, her fangs glistening in the Louisiana night. But as she looked around, things were changing vastly, and hunting was one of them, sure she enjoyed the taste of blood coming down from her lips as much as the next vampire. 

But what she wanted more was a feeling that she hadn't had for years something: that the french called La petite Mort, and it became a hunger the more that customers entered into the record shop.  Sitting behind the counter counting daylight into the moonlight, she watched from the window and onto the boardwalk where all she could see was an endless sea of lovers, almost making her sick and reminding her of the years she had her fun, but that was going to change. It was now 8' o'clock in Santa Carla, which meant two things, The vampires came out at night, and as did the Surf Nazis.  

Tapping her fingers, waiting patiently, she could hear the commotion of her beloved boys walking towards the shop to free her of her misery. 

"You can't just turn into a bat and fly away when you don't wanna deal with things, Dwayne!" Paul pushed him into the store.

"Watch me..." he grumbled as he shoved Paul back. 

"Tiffany, those damned punks are back again..." her boss glared at her,

 "So ..." she glared up at him.

"Get them out or..." 

"Bite me..." she flashed her usual charming smile as she jumped over the desk and made her way towards her boys.  "Did you get those cheese sticks I like..." Tiffany asked as she heard Marko chowing down on something; when she turned to look towards him, there stood Marko eating the cheese stick that David bought her.

 " Je vais te tuer Marko!" Her eyes flashed to a dark red as David pulled her back, playing a mind trick on her "Kitten, you don't mean that..." he smirked, giving her a quick nip on the neck. Tiffany bit her lip, ready to crumble right in front of him. 

Feeding time on the boardwalk had been easier than usual: every mortal that Tiffany had seemed to consume was hornier than any dog in heat she'd ever met.  All she had to do was lean in close, make them want her, and then attack just like she used to in her endless nights in New Orleans. All it took was one touch to the thigh sweet nothings whispered in their ear, and the sweet taste of blood was all hers.  

"Did you even eat anything..." Paul asked, his clothes drenched in blood just like Marko's. Tiffany only let out a laugh as she pushed Paul out the way, "We're not all messy eaters, ma douce chérie. '' she said, placing her hand under Pauls's chin, licking the blood off his skin. Paul shivered as his hands went straight to her hips, 

"Ah ah ah..." she taunted as she stepped away, "Not tonight, ma petite chauve-souris," Tiffany whispered in his ear, watching as David sat down on the couch like most vampires she could read his mind. It was full of his jealous thoughts about all the guys who flirted with Tiffany during their hunt and how she even gave Paul attention or how Marko held her waist when they rode back to the cave. 

"Something wrong, Mon Cher..." her hands rest on his thigh, as he only ignored her, making her try harder. " Je veux te faire jouir David..." she whispered in his ear, kissing at his temple, "Je veux te baiser et personne d'autre..." she sat in his lap, feeling him grow underneath her, "Monsieur do be gentle... it's my first time..." she kissed his jaw as David took her by the legs and pinned her down.

"Bullshit, Kitten..." he licked his lips, watching as her age-old trick didn't work on the other vampire. His teeth grazed her neck as he left bruises and bite marks. He could smell her need for him almost as if he were a hunter preying for a meal on the boardwalk: Tiffany laid her hands on his cold chest, taking in the beauty that was David, from his blonde hair to his piercingly beautiful eyes, there wasn't anyone else at the moment that she wanted then him. "Tell me what you want, kitten."

 He growled in her ear, his hand trailing to her heat. "I want you, mon petite mort." she moaned, trying to grind against his fingers. "I didn't permit you to do that..." David said, his eyes cloudy with lust and nothing else.

 " Move another inch, and you won't be coming tonight, understand..."  David watched as Tiffany gave him a nod, "Use your words, darling." he said, sliding her leather pants off her,  

"Yes."

"Yes, what.." 

"Yes, sir!" she nearly screamed, feeling his nails dig into his skin as his tongue was buried and biting her womanhood. What she felt was pure penetrating bliss, hands roaming and scratching his skin. She couldn't help but admire the way he made her feel. " Juste là, baise!" she grabbed his hair as she began to tighten around his mouth. Pulling away, David left her to feel cold, not giving her what she had been craving all day, at least not yet. He had heard her sweet melody when she was with Dwayne, but he knew that he could pull out a symphony of moans from her sweet, succulent lips. 

"I need you..." she whispered, tugging at his pants as she pressed against his palm to the bulge growing in his now tight leather pants. Tiffany could taste his savory skin. Kissing up his stomach, she couldn't help herself but give him a few bites on his stomach. " Que dois-je faire pour toi maintenant..." she asked him cocking her head to the side as she took David's length into her mouth, grabbing her by her hair David pounded himself into her mouth, lost by the way her eyelashes fluttered along the swirling of her tongue and teeth grazing the many veins alongside,  Tiffany could feel him twitching as she kept bobbing her head quickening her rhythm,

 A trick she had learned from a past lover, Tiffany could taste the ever-flowing juice that was Davids's cum, and my was she drunk off of it. Looking up at him as his eyes were closed and his lip between his fangs. She pulled away as she swallowed every ounce of what David had to give. 

The night slowly became Dawn as Tiffany unraveled herself from David, trying to find her scattered clothes from off the couch. She caught a glimpse of Dwayne, who was holding up her robe.  " Merci mon amo-" she felt his hands on her hips as he kissed her soft brown shoulders, her body pressed against his. "Dwayne... '' she gasped as she gestured towards David. 

"Babe, I know you got it in you, " his deep voice whispered in her ear as nipped at her ear lobe, "Cara mia..." her knees weak as the hair on her arms raised. 

"Alright alright... but I gotta be out before 7 am..." she laughed as Dwayne picked her up taking her to his nest , "Not a problem.."

[one-boring-person]

You Tell Us.

David(The Lost Boys) x Reader

Context: (Y/n) is a vampire hunter who lives in Santa Carla, alongside the vampires already residing there, with her sister. One night, she comes home to find the boys, minus one, worked up about something, convinced that she is the cause of what has happened.

Warnings: Blood, fatal injuries.

The hot air around me is suffocating as I trek up the dusty trail to my house, wishing now that I'd ridden my motorbike into Santa Carla, rather than walking in like I'd thought I was up to, my leather jacket not doing anything to help my case. Sighing reluctantly, I go to take it off, before thinking better of it when I realise I can’t be bothered to carry it, pushing the sleeves up my arms instead, flicking my sweaty hair from my face as I walk, kicking a stone along the darkened path. Above me, the sky has long since faded into darkness, the moon barely visible through the clouds littering the black expanse, the sight of it a stark reminder of the twisting feeling in my gut.

Something is wrong.

The sensation has plagued me for hours now, especially when I noticed the biker gang hadn’t turned up at the Boardwalk, the lack of their usual mischievous antics barely missed by anyone other than me, the vampires’ absence worrying me to no end. As soon as I'd realised they weren't around, I left to go home, worried for the safety of my sister still residing in my house (I say "my house" but really it's just an empty house we moved into when we first arrived here), blissfully unaware of the horrors concealed in the town. Of course, it took me a while to get out of Santa Carla, what with the Frog brothers and their new friend, Sam Emerson, pestering me for more information and help regarding the “nightstalker situation” as they call it, only letting me go when I gave them some more misleading advice for them to follow up on, trying my best not to draw attention to the vampires I know to inhabit the small town.

Normally, I would’ve taken them out by now, but the deal I made with them keeps me from doing so, so I suck it up and give them the same amount of respect and friendliness they pay me, which isn’t too much, in all honesty, but that suits me fine. The arrangement stated that I wouldn’t kill any of them, only taking out any other vampires and hunters that come into their territory, if they promised only to target the more criminal side of the public, leaving innocents alone as much as possible, but that doesn’t mean I trust them, any of them, even if I have developed an unfortunate soft spot for their leader.

Shaking myself back into the present, I feel the dread in my stomach welling up as I come into view of the house, only to find the building completely dark. Frowning in worry, I pick up the pace, pushing past the gate in my haste to reach the front door, which stops me in my tracks as I catch sight of it.

It is ajar, the locks snapped off completely.

Setting my jaw in grim realisation, I reach into my inner jacket pocket, pulling out the stake laced with holy water, the smooth wood reassuring under my fingers as I slowly push open the door, bracing myself for whatever lies past the boundary. Waiting for me is the dark interior of my hall, everything as it should be, barring the lack of light, my pulse picking up a little as I survey the area in trepidation. Entering, I step carefully, trying to keep as quiet as I can so as not to alert the intruders to my presence, though if it is who I think it is, there’s no point. All around me, the house is eerily quiet, no sounds accompanying my entrance.

Looking to my left, I notice that the door to the lounge has been torn clean off its hinges, the area behind it as black as the rest of the house. I grit my teeth, trying to see into the room as much as possible, though I know it's impossible thanks to my human vision, so I grab the torch off the table beside the door, knowing it is there due to my normal organised behaviour. Switching it on, I aim the bright beam into the lounge, a gasp escaping me as I catch sight of the ghostly pale features of my sister sitting in a chair, mouth gagged, arms clearly tied behind her, her eyes wide and terrified.

Putting a finger to my lips as a gesture for her to remain quiet, I cautiously make my way into the room, looking around me as I do so, checking the surroundings as thoroughly as possible, though, in my haste, I forget the most important place. Deeming it clear, I go to my sister, dropping the stake as I place a hand on her cheek, tilting her face up towards me; checking her neck for the tell tale signs. Finding none, I let out a grateful sigh, before finally registering her fearful murmurs, my hand reaching for the stake at my feet, my pulse picking up a lot more as the gravity of my previous mistake sinks in. As I go to pick the short length of wood up, a heavy boot lands on my hand, holding the appendage in place, tension freezing my body in place as the lights suddenly switch on, revealing the intruders to me.

“Hello, (Y/n). We have a bone to pick with you.” A sinister voice sounds behind me, the source of it well known to me, though I’ve never heard it laced with so much anger before.

“David. What are you doing here?” I look over my shoulder at the blonde vampire, taking in his venomous look with confusion, my hand still pinned to the floor under his shoe. Behind him, Dwayne and Paul shoot me equally angered expressions, the vampires trying to hold back their more primal facial features with some success though their eyes flash yellow from time to time.

“I think you know full well the reason for our visit.” David hisses at me, pressing harder onto my hand, a cruel smirk making its way onto his handsome face at the wince that escapes me, despite my better judgement.

“I don't? Mind filling me in?” I retort, lifting an eyebrow as I keep eye contact with him, his own eyes narrowing in fury. He nods once to Paul and Dwayne, who instantly move over to me, grabbing hold of me and lifting me to my feet, pinning my hands behind my back and forcing me to keep my eyes trained in front of me as they back me away from my captive sister, who watches this in pure terror.

“What are you doing? What’s going on?” I protest, only just noticing something key, “Where’s Marko?”

At the mention of their friend's name, all three vampires tense up, a low growl leaving Dwayne's lips at my question.

“You tell me, (Y/n), you killed him.” David manages to keep his voice level, though I can tell he's barely keeping his rage in check, his words hitching a little.

Shock floods me, rendering me silent as I search for the appropriate words, well aware that I had nothing to do with Marko’s death.

“Wh....he's dead? How?” I eventually manage, looking to them for answers.

“You staked him, don’t you remember?” Paul growls in my ear, his fangs emerging to brush along the carotid artery in my neck, a warning shiver going through me at the sensation.

“How am I supposed to remember something I didn’t do?” I protest, regretting my words as Dwayne’s grip on my arm tightens, nails digging into the soft flesh, painfully, “I didn’t stake him.”

Giving me an acidic glare, David goes over to my sister, lifting a hand to cup her chin, tilting her head to the side, giving him easy access to her neck. At this, I become panicked, writhing in the other two vampires’ grip, pulling and fighting to get free, a grunt leaving me as they yank me back into place, holding me as still as possible.

“What are you doing? She’s done nothing, I’ve done nothing! Whatever happened to Marko, she has had no part in it, leave her alone! Please!” I plead their leader, embarrassment accompanying the panic coursing through my veins as I realise I’m begging him, my usually hard exterior cracking slightly.

“Why should you not feel the pain we do? Especially after breaking the rules of our agreement, which we've kept to as we are supposed to.” David snarls at me, his vampiric appearance threatening to distort his features as he leans closer to my sister, her confused terror palpable in the air, whimpers and cries of fear forcing themselves past the gag in her mouth

“I’ve never broken those rules before, so why should I do it now? You know, of all people, that I respect the agreement as much as you guys do. I’ve never let another vampire hunter stay on your turf, I've hunted any vampires that tried to stay around, I’ve never let anyone find out the truth, and I sure as hell would never kill any of you! What would I get out of doing something like that?” I point out to them, hoping they recall the time when I spent an entire night chasing some leather clad priest out of Santa Carla, the paranoid man having been particularly violent when he thought I was a vampire, trying to stake me and succeeding, thankfully missing any vital organs, though my resilience managed to scare him off in the end.

The room goes quiet as the vampires consider this, the only sound being my sister's soft noises of terror as she watches the exchange, her head still at an angle in David's grasp. Clenching his jaw, the blonde vampire releases her, stepping over to me so that he can look me directly in the eye, his rage still dangerously high, though it’s dampened now, his face more human than before.

“We need to discuss this. Alone.” He eventually bites out, nodding at Paul and Dwayne, who remove their hands from my body with a few indignant murmurs, allowing me to be passed into their leader's clutches, “You two stay here with her. If she tries anything, well, you know what to do.”

At his words, a pit of worry opens up in my stomach, my mind fighting my body as I am dragged from the room, barely registering Paul and Dwayne's smirks, both obviously happy about the outcome of this conversation so far. I go to protest, only to feel the grip on my arm tighten briefly, the vampire leading me obviously warning me to keep quiet as he takes me upstairs, easily able to navigate the dark with his enhanced vision, quickly pushing me into the nearest room, which just happens to be the spare bedroom. As we enter, he flicks on the light, standing opposite me with his hands in his pockets, waiting for me to say something.

“Why are we not talking about this downstairs?” I question after a moment, confused as to the vampire’s reasons.

“Because if it wasn’t you who staked Marko, then I have no idea who else it could be. Star and Laddie are also missing, so I’m out of leads.” He admits carefully, allowing himself to look me in the eye, showing me the raw grief behind them. As quickly as I see it, however, it is gone, the vampire swiftly setting his jaw again.

At the mention of Star, a pang of jealousy makes itself known in my chest but I quickly push it down, knowing he'll be able to hear my heart rate picking up if I don’t suppress my feelings. I let myself relax a little, confident that he won’t do anything to hurt me, and that he is genuinely curious and confused as to who tore their family apart.

“I can’t say I know. There have been no new vampire hunters in town for months, and I’ve made sure to keep an eye out for them, so it’s not another hunter, I don’t think.” I muse, frowning in concentration as I wrack my mind for a possible solution, “Unless...”

My voice trails off as I say the last part, one thought making its way into the forefront of my mind, but I don’t allow myself to think that, unwilling to believe it could be true. Unfortunately, David picks up on my hesitation, instantly moving closer to me, causing me to back up, my pulse raising as he corners me against the wall behind me, his body trapping me. Against my cheek, I can feel the icy air radiating off the vampire's body, his proximity also allowing me to catch the scent of his natural musk, the mixture of dust, blood, leather and motor oil clouding my sense as he leans in close.

“Unless?” He breathes against my skin, voice dropping an octave as he looks into my eyes, a smirk making its way onto his face briefly at the inadvertent hitch in my breath, my body reacting on its own.

“Unless you let someone else in on your secret.” I state, struggling to concentrate under his piercing gaze.

A line appears between his eyes as he considers this, a flash of understanding suddenly breaking out across his face, a snarl ripping from his lips at the thought.

“Michael.” He spits out, eyes flashing dangerously.

“Michael?” I inquire, trying to think back to the Michael he means.

“The new kid, Michael Emerson. We initiated him last night, but he refused to feed, so he still hasn’t turned. I know he and Star slept together, so it’s not unlikely for her to have run off with him.” David's voice is low once more, anger lacing his tone.

“Michael Emerson?” The name sets off alarm bells in my head, the surname familiar to me, “He have a brother?”

“Probably, I don’t exactly make a point of learning a person's family members.” The vampire responds impatiently.

“You did when we first met.” I point out quietly, looking down as he shoots me an odd look, a blush creeping onto my face at his next words.

“You’re different.”

Glancing up, I gasp as I find his face a lot closer to mine, my usually sharp instinctual knowledge of a person's movements completely off, his eyes staring straight into mine. Smirking he pulls away, putting a little space between us before the scowl is back, his anger and hurt returning swiftly.

“Anyway, I’m pretty sure Michael's younger brother has been hanging out with the Frog brothers in the comic shop, a lot more in the last day or so.” I manage to explain once I’ve regained my composure, adjusting my jacket around me once more.

“And this is important, why?” David growls, eager to avenge Marko’s demise, the blonde vampire twitching a bit.

“Well, the Frog brothers fancy themselves as vampire hunters. I taught them a lot of what they know, but I’ve made sure I never told them exactly what they need to know, and I’ve never drawn any attention to you guys. They were very persistent today, and they seemed stressed.” I inform him a little sheepishly, flinching as he stiffens, worry flooding my mind again, “They’re mostly completely harmless.”

“Not harmless enough.” David hisses, swiftly going to the door and opening it, striding down the stairs as fast as possible, shouting instructions at Paul and Dwayne.

“Where are you going?” I call put after him, tailing the vampire as he leaves the house, a grunt leaving my lips as Paul and Dwayne push past me harshly, knocking my shoulders.

“To settle a score.” Their leader responds, a smirk on his face, though I barely have time to acknowledge it before they’re taking to the skies, hellbent on revenge.

Speechless, I stand there for a second, my brain kicking me into action as I realise they are in big trouble, both the Emersons and the vampires – they’re both too stubborn in nature to give up. Instantly, I race into the house, where I grab the keys to my motorbike as well as a few vials of holy water, just in case, briefly going into the lounge to free my sister and reassure her. Minutes later, I’m on the back of my roaring motorbike, a grim expression on my face at the thought of the events of tonight, swiftly manoeuvring my way towards the Emerson's home.

A wind has picked up since I’ve been the house, the icy air rushing past me as I hurtle along the darkened road at nearly 100mph, my leather jacket barely protecting me against it, though I don’t notice it in any case. My mind is dead set on reaching my destination, though I know I am most likely too late to do anything to help, the vampire’s being inhumanely faster than me after all. Urgency gives me a reckless speed, an oncoming truck nearly sending me flying off the road as it almost hits me, a few birds and dogs in the surrounding landscape breaking into sound as I pass them, the interruptive engine exciting them. The odd pedestrian calls out at me as I thunder past, insults and words of irritation lost in the wind, their meaning falling on deaf ears as I ignore every person I come across, until I reach the road leading to the familiar house a little way away from the rest. Determined, I turn down it and ramp up the speed, blinking away tears that have formed in my eyes from the barrage of air, the salty liquid momentarily blurring my vision.

Soon enough, the Emerson home comes into view, prompting me to cut the speed abruptly, skidding as the motorbike struggles to grip the dusty surface below it. As soon as it comes to a halt, I jump off of it, racing up the driveway to the house, barely noticing the gate as I vault over it, thankful now that I took time to train myself in this kind of agility, my pace not faltering for a second until I reach the front door, where I slow down enough to take in my surroundings.

The room is bathed in a crimson light, the source unimportant for the minute, revealing the dark shadows of several pieces of dislodged furniture, a table laden with stakes near the middle, a mangled body lying a little way away from it. Gulping, I go over to it with caution, half expecting someone to attack me, though it is eerily quiet in this area of the house, the only sound being a few static sparks from the smoking stereo above the corpse.

My eyes widen as I recognise the mutilated vampire, concern and shock flooding me at the realisation; Dwayne. Going nearer, I look over the debris around him, deducting his fate very quickly, though it surprises me greatly that a bunch of kids would do something like this. But then again, it is the Frog brothers.

All of a sudden, I feel something connect with my shoulder; the force of the impact throwing me a good few feet to the left, a dull ache starting in the inflicted area as I collide, violently, with the floor. Groaning, I look up, only now hearing the snarls and rasping voices of two vampires, the ominous shape of the two of them hanging from a doorframe a couple of metres away catching my attention. One of them I recognise to be David, the blonde growling into the face of another, who I assume to be Michael, both of them so locked up in each other that they haven't noticed my presence behind them, both pairs of yellow eyes focused solely on each other.

Scrambling to my feet, I force my legs to carry me over to them, grabbing hold of David's back in an attempt to pull them apart, though I know full well that I am far too weak to be successful by force alone. A few words leave my lips, useless pleas falling on deaf ears as they continue to fight, verbally, with each other.

“Join us, Michael!” The familiar yet slightly distorted tone of David interrupts me, the vampire's tense muscles bunching underneath me as if ready to move again.

“Never!” The brunette rejects the offer, most likely not for the first time, drawing a frustrated growl from the blonde.

“My blood runs in your veins!” David points out, his smirk almost audible in his words.

“So does mine!” Michael growls one last time, before I suddenly feel our bodies being turned and forced towards something invisible to me, the shock and confusion briefly flaring in my mind until two searing points of agony burst into existence in my abdomen. A strangled scream escapes my lips at the sensation, blood pushing its way past my lips with every faltering breath, my eyes swiftly finding the two horns of sorts protruding from my body, the two vampires staring at me from behind them. In my rapidly deteriorating state, I recognise David's features becoming human again as he rushes to my side, panic and horror lacing his voice, shock clouding his gaze.

“(Y/n)?! What the hell?! This can’t be happening...I can’t lose everyone!” He rambles, the usually composed vampire scrambling for sanity now that he's faced with a situation he can't control. Gasping, I try to lift a hand, intending to wipe away the tear rolling down his cheek, only to let out a whimper of pain when the movement jars the wounds in my stomach. Eyes widening, David seems to make a split second decision, swiftly apologising as he reaches underneath me to grasp my body in his hands, pulling me off the horns abruptly, pulling me into his chest as I scream in pure agony. In seconds, I feel the cool night air on my face again, my hands clutching at David's jacket desperately when he leaps off the ground, taking to the sky in order to escape the residents of the Emerson household, holding me tightly to him, whispering despairing reassurances into my ear.

My vision starts to cloud slightly, the pain in my abdomen almost too much for me to bear, my mind becoming hazy, though I try my best to stay awake for his sake, knowing it will ruin him if I pass in his arms. Small whimpers leave me every now and then, each time drawing the attention of the panicking blonde vampire, his grip steadily tightening around me as he quickens his pace, the wind turning icy as it rushes around us.

Eventually, after what feels like hours, we enter what looks to be the cave they reside in, though I’ve only been in it once and so don't remember too well what the interior looks like. A soft surface appears below me as his arms leave me, though they don’t quite retreat fully, his large hands tilting my head to him as he tries to hold eye contact with me, failing when the hurt in them becomes too much for him to handle.

“God, I’m so sorry, (Y/n), I never realised you were there! This should never have happened, I got lazy and arrogant...and now they’re all dead!” At his own words, David breaks down, sobs leaving the normally intimidating vampire as tears flow freely down his cheeks, “God, they're all dead! And now I’m gonna lose you too!”

Upon hearing how broken he is, I say the only thing that comes to mind, my decision made up, even if it goes against my every rule, hoping to hell I can console him.

“T...turn...me...” My voice is hoarse and strangled from the blood still oozing out from between my lips, but I know he’ll hear me.

Sure enough, the blonde stiffens, his eyes fixing on me in surprise.

“What did you say?” He questions, tone laced with disbelief.

“Turn...me...” I repeat, lifting a hand to place it on his, weakly rubbing his frigid skin under the digit, reassuring him.

“Are you...are you sure?” For once, David looks genuinely caught off guard and unsure of himself, the moment of weakness a new idea for me to wrap my head around, though I know I will never bring it up again around him, should I survive this. Another wave of pain forces the deciding words from me, my voice strained.

“Yes, I can’t leave you alone. Not now, not ever.”

Seeing the seriousness in what I’m saying, as well as the truth, David carefully moves himself into the bed with me, cradling me against him as he uses a fingernail to slice into his wrist, lifting the bleeding appendage to my face. Pressing my lips against his pale akin, I don’t allow myself time to rethink my choices, sucking and licking at the wound feebly at first, until my strength picks up, the healing properties in his blood starting to re-energise me. A sigh escapes his lips above me, his other hand holding me tighter to his body, his grief momentarily forgotten by the joy at having me finally submit to him after all these years, the sensation of my lips on his arm reawakening a feeling he hasn’t felt in years.

Finally, I pull away, my head falling back onto his chest, my eyes rolling upwards to look into his, relief filling me as the pain subsides a bit, not quite leaving completely. Smiling down at me, David lifts one hand, which is covered in my blood, to his mouth, where he makes a show of licking each digit clean, moaning slightly at the taste. Blushing, I can only watch as he enjoys himself, allowing himself a little respite after everything that’s happened.

“Thank you, (Y/n).” He hums to me, genuinely grateful that I’ve decided to join him, glad that he won’t have to deal with his pain alone.

“Of course. No one should be alone. Especially not someone as lost as you.” I say to him, rolling over with some difficulty to rest my chin on his chest, staring up at him in sympathy.

A shocked look crosses over his face at my words, clearly unused to being shown genuine affection, his expression giving me the impression that he’s having some sort of internal conflict. It takes him a few minutes, but eventually he seems to make up his mind, using one hand to gently cup my chin and pull me closer to him, our faces centimetres apart. In my chest, my heartbeat picks up, butterflies forming under my skin as our lips brush, before he suddenly presses them together in a soft kiss. Surprised, I freeze for a second, only to kiss back as gladly as he does, joy blanking out the dull pain in my abdomen as our lips move together, his hand moving from my chin into my hair, pulling me closer until I run out of air, at which point we have to part.

“You have no idea how long I’ve waited to do that.” David whispers to me, caressing my back with his other hand, a smile gracing his lips once more.

“I could say the same thing.” I respond, giggling a little, until a yawn interrupts me, my exhaustion finally catching up with me. My eyelids start to droop, my body comfortable against David's chest, despite the icy temperature, him clearly as happy to have me there as I am to be there.

“I'll help you complete the transition tonorrow, but for now, sleep well, (Y/n).” He says to me as I drift off, voice soft and gentle in my ears, lulling me to sleep.

[qhostqizmo]

Little Slice of Heaven

“I would like to be left alone, Theophilus.”

“Come now Lord Amon, no one likes to be left alone.”

A quiet growl rumbled in the nobleman’s throat. His head whipped around, turning a piercing gaze towards the statesman. The corner of his lip peeled back in a snarl nearly feral in nature, prompting the gentleman to hastily take a step back.

“Well I do,” he opposed in a thick tone.

The mousy broad-bellied man shifted sheepishly before him, trying to shrink their figure inward. “P-Please m’lord- you will be rejoining after recess, won’t you?”

“I will need a moment to consider if I shall; or if your wingbagged alias has the ability to be silent and allow someone else to speak at these proceedings, before I pass judgment on that matter.”

“You’re being fatuous, m’lord-”

Amon exhaled sharply. His nostrils flared, the shape of his shoulders growing broader as his spine stiffened. The nobleman peered down at the politician as he spoke in an ominous whisper: “I am being sensible, Master Theophilus. If I waste my time any longer in a room full of arrogant rambling administrators, then I am wasting the time of my territory and those who seek my authority and guidance to protect and serve it. I do not have the hour to sit and be spoken over by the likes of Roulf Boude or Claudia Fulvianus, or any of the like with their hubris and tactless greed. I have other obligations that demand my attention, and when everyone has finally settled into peaceful discussion and respectably appropriate delegations, I would be happy to seek audience again.”

“But for now,” he rumbled, taking a step forward, “I suggest that you go, Theo. I need space to think, and I have responsibilities to attend to and contracts to review and sign. So if you do not mind getting off of my property, and allowing me to go undisturbed into my home-”

Nodding vigorously, the short and stout Theo began to retreat in a backwards scuttle off the Briarton Estate’s pathway. “Yes sir, of course sir, I hope we’ll see you s-soon sir-”

Amon grunted to himself, turning away with a dramatic flick of his cloak. Unlikely.

Bricks laid out the foundation of the walkway to the manor. Within the cracks along some of the blocks; squeezing with determination between slots, a few common wild violets had taken root. He took care not to step on any of them as the tenacious little flowers guided him to the threshold. A strong scent from the house-hugging flora greeted him as he breathed in deeply, opening the heavy oak door. The geranium’s and hydrangea were in bloom, competing each other for dominance in the landscape. They also had a delightful calming effect before stepping in; taking in the range of colors and relaxing scents they provided in the mellow summer breeze.

“Lord Amon?”

“Yes, it’s me,” he called out, shutting the door softly behind.

A young maid stepped around the corner, offering a bow. “Would you like an afternoon snack, my lord?”

“Not at the moment, thank you.”

She curtsied. “Very well milord. Call if you need anything.”

He nodded shortly, sliding the dense mantle from his shoulders to drape over his arm. The nobleman watched the young woman retreat as he stepped further into the foyer, the sound of claws scrambling hastily coming from the east side of the house.

Sighing, he anchored his boots to the floor just as Caesar came barreling from the gallery room. The great mastiff skidded into his knees, letting out one of his tremendous bellowing barks that filled the entire space with his eagerness. He gave a butt wiggle that shook in tandem with his tail, leaving Amon to chuckle as he reached down to scratch the hunting dog’s ears.

“A very dignified entry Caesar,” he reported as the pooch groaned with pleasure. “How’s my good boy?”

“Arf.”

“Excellent. Have you been out recently?”

The hairy beast of a creature gave a mighty shake, sitting upon his hunches. He tilted his head, panting heavily up at his master.

“Outside?” Amon asked, patting his head.

A simple whine answered him as Caesar stood up, circling his legs eagerly.

He pat his thigh, signaling for the mastiff to follow. The duo made their way into the gallery room; no longer a dull space of gray stone with only the taxidermy stuffed game to bare their teeth in greeting. Paintings lined the wall; and the new throw rug added a splash of color and pattern to the otherwise uninspiring space. A few seating arrangements had been added, along with a card table and sculptures. There were still a few bare spaces, particularly near the south-side of the room, but that was Part D of a rather extensive project to liven various areas of the house.

Crossing through the identified ‘man cave’ of the lower level, Amon entered the kitchen with Caesar fast at his heels. He propped open the door to the backyard with his foot, allowing the dog to bolt through with a delighted series of yelps as he chased off the closest songbirds rooting the grass for insects.

“Afternoon, milord.”

“Afternoon-” he barely managed to utter, catching just a glimpse of the houseaid before she disappeared into the extended pantry. He cleared his throat: “Would you mind listening to let Caesar in? I’m going to head upstairs.”

“Certainly milord; not a problem.”

“Thank you Carla.”

He took the way back in which he came, passing through the dark-lit interior of the ‘men’s sanctuary’ and into the gallery. His gaze passed the portrait of Fontane to his right; no longer lonely with canvas work added of loved one’s now passed. It was a small memorial space; with pressed lily flowers in frames and a few plaques quoting heartfelt quotes. A large branch had been recently anchored to the wall, with hollow holes allowing small metal dishes to sit sustaining candles. There were even some recent additions he hadn’t seen until this moment: peace lilies added to the vase at the corner nook table, and a new ivy plant along the bottom of the branch.

A twinge of pain radiated through his chest. Pressing his fingers to his lips, Amon blew a kiss to the beaming expression of Marie looking back at him before he moved on.

The Illiad heir hopped up the stairs with a spring in his step, meeting the second landing. Sunlight cascaded past the curtains, the smell of the central courtyard garden entering the open windows. He picked up on the rustling coming from the sitting room just ahead before he saw a figure moving quickly into the doorway.

“M’lord- Oh… Do you want to talk about what happened? You look stressed my love.”

Amon absorbed her appearance; soaking her in like flora to sunshine. The smile that graced her face upon first glance faded quickly with a knit of her worried brow. Shadows fell over her golden eyes like clouds blocking rays of the sun. She fiddled her fingers in front of the pale blush off-the-shoulder shirt she wore; cinched at the waist, with ruffled short-length sleeves. It was a pleasant rosy hue, making the shade of her skintone appear deeper, more a rich brown.

She was a breath of fresh air, deep in the depths of his lungs. He slid his feet forward slowly, finding her arms instantly open to welcome him into her embrace.

He inhaled the faded aroma of soap in her loose black curls, pulling her in close to rock from side to side. The shape of her was a familiarity to him; warm and soft, curving into his frame with the same shade of longing he felt beneath his ribcage.

His wife pressed her lips to the ticklish skin below his ear, and he chuckled.

“Rough day, beloved?”

“Vexing,” he agreed heavily, “but it’s already feeling a bit better.”

“Well I’m happy to hear that,” she hummed. “Can I get you anything? Was the summit dreadful?”

“A mockery Essie; truly. I’ve rarely dealt with such immature individuals. Would you care to join me when we reconvene? I could use your sharp tongue.”

Essätha pulled her head back to arch her brow, a playful smile on her face. “That depends; am I kissing you with it or spearing someone else?”

Amon’s eyes widened with surprise. “Quite the spirited tease today, darling.”

“I do enjoy a good game,” she admitted, reaching back around to pat his chest. “While you were out I went ahead and assessed the contracts Edger sent us; triple-checked them a few times. Our ledges and estimates all seemed in order and correct, but I didn’t sign anything until you oversaw it just in case.”

“You could have, you know I trust you.”

“I know, but I love hearing you read contracts aloud in that sexy deep droning voice of yours.” She winked at him as he chuckled, venturing onward, “besides, it’s a team effort. I would rather you catch my mistakes now than later down the road.”

The nobleman grinned, staring down into her smiling face. He leaned forward, basking in the glory of the way her breath hitched expectedly, and how her lashes fluttered low. She slid her arms around his neck to dig her fingers through his air as his lips brushed hers. A shaky exhale escaped her, waiting patiently, until he pressed closer for a more earnest kiss.

They separated slowly, with her eyes peering up at him beneath dark lashes. The sorcereress dropped her hands from around him, and grabbed gently at his bicep.

“Come, sit with me.”

Amon let go of his noblewoman, allowing her to take his hands instead. She guided him back into the sitting area where she had come from, walking at an angle so her eyes could remain holding his. It was a holy experience, following someone cut from the heart of divinity. He would follow her blindly anywhere, anywhere at all. She was in his blood, in his heart, the sun in his eyes glistening so brilliantly; she was everywhere he wanted to be, the only longing he could not live without.

“You’ve had a long enough day already,” Essie urged sweetly, taking a seat upon the sofa. She pat the spot beside her with her free hand. “Rest.”

He obeyed her willingly, obliging by sinking gently into the cushion beside hers.

She carefully detangled her hand from his. Her fingers brushed against the side of his face and up, pushing stray hairs away from his forehead. His eyes darted over her, watching as she indicated a sweeping gesture over her lap. An invitation.

Once more, loyal and willing, he began to drift towards her. Bunching his knees in, Amon kept his boots mostly off the clean couch by dangling his ankles off to the side as he rolled inward. Scooting and wriggling, he steadied himself to flat on his back, head in her lap, looking up into the vibrant joyful expression peaking down at him. Her smile was stunning; making an already beautiful woman ethereal in ways that slackened his jaw. It was a small gesture, but it softened around her eyes as the edges of her cheeks rounded.

“Wow,” he cooed, “you look incredible from every view.”

Essätha scoofed at him, the bridge of her nose wrinkling in disagreement. “Hussssshh…”

Leaning forward, she grazed her fingertips through his locks. She combed hair back from his forehead, stroked along his eyes, and rubbed the pads of her fingers near his temples.

A groan rose up in his throat, his eyelids falling to half-mast in bliss.

Softly, Essie began to hum. It almost felt as though it was filling his chest; radiating into his ribcage and bouncing around like an orchestra in a cathedral. Amon sighed heavily, allowing the heaviness in his body to drift away as he succumbed to her touch more and more.

She began to whisper slowly a hymn. He understood none of it, but he didn’t have to. Whatever the lyrics were, they were words of an angel, and of love. The words fell into a melody as her voice higher; louder, sweeter. It was not just the celestial tongue that had him so smitten, or the nature of the words. It was her body language that captivated him; the tenderness that poured out of her, the enormity of her compassion and unbridled will of strength.

Gods themselves would weep, hearing something so precious.

He melted; enamored and adoringly staring up into the halo of the sun that was wreathing her head. It was all so dreamy; so beyond what mortals could be capable of. Her touch was a saint’s blessing, carding through mane of fading-black. Her nails scrapped against his hairline; her palms rubbed metric gestures that seemed to coordinate with the rise and fall of her chorus against the side of his head. He imagined he could close his eyes and drift away to sleep; the most comfortable slumber he’d ever have, if he wasn’t so stubbornly enticed to being aware and there in the waking world with her. No fantasy’s ever did justice on the fascination and depth that resided in her soul. Nothing compared to the reality that was being beside her.

Clearing his throat, he reached up to cup the side of her face, sweeping his thumb against her jawline. “I’m in awe of you a little more every day,” he mouthed, breathing deeply.

Essie laughed shyly. “People are going to think I’m charming you with talk like that,” she teased.

“You are quite charming.”

“M’lord Amon.”

“Even when you say my name with disapproval, it’s still the most enchanting thing I’ve ever heard.”

“You’re love-drunk,” the sorceress murmured, ghosting her lips intimately along his palm, and down to his wrist.

“I have been,” he agreed in a lulled hush. “I have been for a long time, and I couldn’t be happier.”

“Do you not want a cure?” she mused, massaging her fingertips from behind his ears down to his neck.

A shiver rushed over him. “You are my cure. I love being intoxicated by you. You relax me, and you challenge me. You make me stronger, and you bring me to my knees. Your wit and charm make me feel invincible and intelligent, while also humbling me that I still can always learn more from you. I am in a constant state of balance and bliss, when you are by my side.”

Her eyelids dropped a little lower as he spoke, while her smile grew broader. Essie skimmed her touch from his forehead through his hair and back, making his groan again.

“I love you.”

“I love you too Essie, so much.”

“I love you just as much,” she whispered, huddling over to give him a peck on the cheek.

Amon tilted his head a few degrees, allowing her hands to comb through a different section of his hair. His eyelids drifted a bit lower as she began to pick up the tune to the song she had been singing, the angelic lines floating through the air, giving harmony to his heartbeat.

Sighing, the nobleman nuzzled his face into her thighs, reaching around to wrap an arm around her waist. She half-giggled, continuing to sing as he peaked up at her from her abdomen, admiring the most gorgeous woman in all of the world. His home, his heart, the entire pillar of his contentment hindered on that soft, private smile made just for him. This moment alone with her reminded him of the true meaning of life: at the end of the day, love was all that mattered, and it would conquer all else… Even if all it had to overcome was the brief stormcloud of his sour mood. It never stood a chance against Essätha Illiad; vanquisher of darkness, and keeper of his heart.

[star-spangled-eyes]

Winner Take All: Part 8: The Locker Room

This alternate universe fan fiction uses characters created and owned by Pixelberry Studios. Character names, descriptions and likenesses are owned by Pixelberry Studios. The MC, Bragnae Bennett, and story is created and owned by this author.

Book: The Royal Romance (Alternate Universe)

Alternate Universe Theme: Senior Year of College for Drake, Leo, Bragnae and Madeleine in the United States  

Pairing: Drake Walker x MC / Leo Reese x MC (Bragnae Bennett – *pronounced Brawn-yah)

Warnings for this series: NSFW, Adult content, suggestive and strong language, sexual content

Series Description: Bragnae Bennett sought adventure when she first went off to college. Now, navigating through her senior year, she finds herself befriending two gorgeous guys, Drake Walker and Leo Reese, who engage in a seemingly innocent bet with her during a game of pool that leads to a surprising threesome.

Their intimate evening prompts deeper feelings than they all expected to arise, and Bragnae is suddenly swept up in both of their charms, unique to each man himself. Through the pressures of college, work and maintaining a social life, which man will prevail and win Bragnae's heart?

Master List

A/N:  Another chapter that just flowed… wow. But things are starting to heat up now. I guess that’s why I can’t stop writing this! It’s too exciting for me! I hope you enjoy this one! Thanks for reading!

Warnings for this chapter: NSFW, Adult content, suggestive and strong language, sexual content

Word Count for this chapter: 4582

Setting for this chapter: Bragnae arrives at Drake’s hockey camp and gets to spend a little time heating up the ice with him.

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Part 8: The Locker Room

Bragnae arrived at the practice arena fifteen minutes before Drake’s practice was supposed to be over. The drive up went fast with her mind being as occupied as it was. She went over everything Leo told her again and again. It was such a shame he had to endure such heartache before, but he could have turned it around for himself. He could have made a vow not to hurt women the way he was, but for some reason, he felt using them for his needs would be the easiest way around his pain.

Even though he knew he hurt her for what he did, Leo still didn’t know the magnitude in which she suffered from his actions. She was glad she didn’t have time to tell him that earlier, and maybe he never needed to know. But, the fact remained that he hurt her very deeply and ruined his own chance at being happy again.

She turned off the engine of Drake’s truck, grabbed her purse, and headed up the sidewalk to the building. When she walked in, the cool air immediately hit her. It was a small arena, but the ice rink was designed in full regulation. There was only six rows of spectator seats that stretched the length of the rink. It was only on one side of the ice. The other side had two benched areas for the team to fill in, a Gatorade stand and a hallway leading to what Bragnae presumed was the locker room.

There was a flurry of guys fighting for the puck at the far end of the rink. Half were dressed in black jerseys, the others in neon green. The Pit Vipers’ colors were royal purple with a black and green logo of the intimating snake, so their practice jerseys reflected that theme as well.

Bragnae found a seat in the second row at center ice, scanning the bench of players. From what she could tell, none of them were Drake, which meant he had to be on the ice. She didn’t know which color he sported yet, but she did know he was a Defenseman. Somehow, protecting the goalie and helping to block shots from the opposing team fit Drake’s personality.

Finally, the puck broke away as a player sent it sailing down the ice toward the opposite goal. The players hustled down the rink as two guys from each of the teams scrambled to take control of it. The one wearing the black jersey slammed the green jersey player into the boards. They dug in and fought vigorously for the puck until the black jersey player took it, and passed the puck to a fellow teammate.

She caught a glimpse of the back of the black jersey attached to the tall player, and saw the number 22. That was Drake’s number. Their practice jerseys didn’t have their names on it, just their assigned player numbers. Now, she knew where he was.

As the forwards on his team passed the puck between them towards the other net, Drake skated in that direction, but held back in case the other team got ahold of the puck again. Bragnae watched one of Drake’s teammates shoot the puck into the net with ease, and then a whistle sounded.

The players vacated the ice and sat on their respective benches, hydrating themselves as they listened to the coach talk about their performance. Bragnae couldn’t make out his exact words, but that was okay. She kept her eyes on Drake anyway. He leaned his stick against his shoulder as he removed his helmet. His dark hair was completely saturated with sweat. He rubbed a hand over his head before bringing the green Gatorade bottle up to take in more fluids.

Bragnae grew up a hockey fan. Her dad had played when he was younger, so it was engrained in their family. She had fond memories of watching their state’s professional team sitting next to him on those cold winter nights. Her father taught her a lot about the game, which made it easier to watch Drake play and listen to him tell her about his practices and games.

After another minute, the teams rose and starting filing out towards the locker room. She stood and walked over to the boards in front of the first row. Drake noticed her immediately. Even though he was 85 feet away from her – the width of the regulation rink – she could see him smile in her direction. Instead of following his team, he skated back onto the ice and headed towards her.

“Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes,” he observed, smiling brightly at her. There wasn’t any acrylic shielding walls where they stood, unlike a true hockey rink that was surrounded in it, so it was easier to see and hear him.

“Hey, stud. You looked good out there.” She leaned her legs against the polyethylene dasher boards, gripping the top of it as she admired Drake in his gear. His shoulder pads and chest protector made him look even more bulky than he was, and his skates gave him an inch or two of extra height. With sweat beads rolling down his somewhat flushed face, he looked like he’d just been in an intense battle. Technically, that wasn’t far off.

“Thanks. Glad to be done for the day, though.” Drake skated to the edge of the board bringing his stick around Bragnae’s back to guide her to him.

She giggled as she fell forward a bit, bracing herself on his protected shoulders. He smiled as her mouth dropped to his. She could taste the saltiness of the sweat on his lips, and even though his athletic scent filled her nose, she was happy to kiss him in that moment. Drake, showered or un-showered, was irresistible.

A teasing whistle sounded from the opposite side of the rink. Drake laughed as he pulled away to look behind him. “Hey, fuck off!” He shouted playfully before returning his attention to Bragnae. “That’s just my buddy, Chuck. He’s on the same defensive line as me, and I think he’s a little jealous that I get to kiss such a beautiful woman right now.”

“Poor Chuck.”

“Yeah, bad for him, but good for me.” With his hands on the hockey stick that still held her in place, he pulled her towards him for another sweet kiss. “Wanna skate for a little bit? Maybe play a little one-on-one?”

“I didn’t bring any skates.”

“Not a problem.” He dropped his stick from around her, and pointed to the upper far corner of the room. “Go through that door, and there will be a place you can grab some skates. A nice lady named Carla will give you a pair to borrow.”

She patted Drake on the shoulder. “Okay, I’ll be right back.” She grabbed her purse and walked in the direction Drake told her. She wore a long-sleeved lavender sweater and a jean mini skirt. As she walked to the skate rental counter, she wondered how easily she’d be able to move on the ice in her outfit.

Carla had given her the size skates she needed with no charge, but she needed to grab the pair of socks in her tote bag to put them on. She was grateful she thought ahead to bring extra items. A few minutes later, while she laced up her skates, Drake was gliding around the ice casually flipping a puck into the net every so often.

When the skates were secured, she stood and walked over to the boards. Drake joined her in a flash, skidding his skates at an angle on the ice to stop himself.

“I don’t know how well I’ll be able to skate in this outfit, or hop the boards for that matter,” she told him, looking skeptical.

“I’d be happy to help a lady out.” He pulled her closer to the boards and reached over to scoop her into his arms, placing her down on the iced part of the rink.

“Well, that settles that,” she giggled, straightening her clothes.

“We’ve got about thirty minutes before the Zamboni needs to clear the ice. So, let’s skate a little bit and maybe get you a stick to hold.”

Naughty thoughts filled her mind. “Would I get to hold your stick? Because if so, we may want to find somewhere more private for that.”

He glanced at her from the side, shaking his head with that sexy smirk of his. “You have a dirty mind today, Miss Bennett.”

“You know you like it,” she flirted with a wink. “Plus, you kind of set me up with that one.”

He laughed. “So I did. Come on.” He took her hand, and the two of them began skating casually around the rink.

Bragnae couldn’t move too swiftly because the denim skirt restricted her a bit, but she was still able to catch up.

“You’re pretty good on the ice. Did I know that about you?” Drake asked.

She thought for a moment trying to recall if she’d ever skated with him when she visited Drake at his work. “No, I guess you didn’t. I’ve been leisurely skating my whole life. My dad took me skating a lot growing up. He played hockey too.”

“No kidding. What position did he play?”

“He was a defenseman like you. From the stories I’ve heard, he was pretty good. Taught me all I know about hockey.” Bragnae concentrated on crossing her skates over one another to turn with the rink. Drake glided gracefully along with her. It was second nature to him at this point. That was evident by the way he spent most of the time looking at her rather than what was in front of him.

“That’s awesome. If I ever get to meet him, I’m sure we’ll have lots to talk about.” Drake slowed them down and pulled her over to the bench where the team once sat.

Bragnae smiled at the thought of Drake meeting her father. She knew they’d get along great, and that they’d have a lot in common. They were both a little rough around the edges, but kind when it was needed.

Drake procured a shorter hockey stick from the other side of the boards, and handed it to Bragnae. Then, he tossed a few more pucks on the ice for them to play with. She gripped the black hockey stick like her dad taught her to do years ago, and skated out to center ice, dragging a puck with her.

Sliding the rest of the pucks with his stick to the center, Drake dashed off to the net to stand in front of it. “Go ahead, Bragnae. Show me what you can do.”

She scoffed. “You’ll just block all of them. I am way out of my league here.”

He chuckled. “Just give it a try. And keep the shots low. Coach will kill me if I get hit in the head when I should have been wearing a helmet.”

Bragnae pulled a puck in front of her with the stick, and pushed it forward, handling it back and forth until she was closer to the goal. She shot it towards Drake who just stood in place letting it hit the net.

“That was good. Try it again.”

Bragnae skated back to center ice, and retrieved another puck. Taking her time so she wouldn’t stumble, she eventually made her way back to Drake. This time, he took a more defensive stance, bending his knees and bobbing back and forth, as she prepared to shoot the puck. She held firm in front of the net trying to gauge which ‘hole’ she should shoot it towards. There were five distinct gaps a player could shoot the puck through that the goalie’s body couldn’t always protect.

Putting weight on her stick, Bragnae bent forward locking her eyes with Drake. “Where am I going to shoot it, Walker?” She taunted.

He smirked at her. “Why don’t you go for the five-hole – right between my legs?”

“You’d like that wouldn’t you?” She propelled the puck forward, trying to send it flying through the upper right corner of the net, but Drake blocked it. She didn’t have the power behind the shot to challenge his reflexes. “You’re just too quick for me.”

Drake skated forward to pull her into him. “I think you’re doing just fine. And you look very sexy skating around in a skirt, handling the stick and puck like you are. I could watch you do this all day.”

“Funny, I was thinking the same thing about you.” She gripped the fabric of his jersey and pulled him into a slightly unsteady kiss thanks to the ice below.

His hands slid down to her thighs just below her skirt. “Are you getting cold?”

“A little.” She didn’t anticipate spending a long time in the arena, which made her decide the mini skirt was okay, but now being directly over the ice, she was starting to get chilly.

“How about this? I’ll clean up the pucks and then head to the locker room to take a shower. After you return your skates, you can meet me in there and wait by my locker.”

“Okay, but won’t there be other guys in there getting dressed?” Not that she’d ever turn away from seeing hockey players in any capacity, but she wanted to be respectful of their space.

“Don’t worry about that. You’re a hot female, and they won’t mind. Besides, most of them are probably gone by now anyway.”

“Okay, I’ll see you in there in a few minutes.” Bragnae skated off to the side of the rink she came from, and threw her legs over the boards. After taking off her skates, she gathered her things and went to return them.

She didn’t know an alternative path to the locker rooms, so she walked carefully across the ice in her sandals to get to get to it. After sauntering down the long hallway, she saw a sign for the locker room to the left.

Bragnae hoped the rest of the team had gone so she wouldn’t embarrass them or herself. She wondered why Drake wanted her in the locker room anyway. It just felt wrong for her to be there. If she were on an all-female team, she wouldn’t want some random guy hanging out while the rest of the team got dressed.

Carefully stepping through the spacious locker room, she heard the shower to her right, but couldn’t see anything as she glanced quickly in that direction. Walking into another room, she saw open cubbies that lined the wall. Each of them had a thin dry erase board above with their names written on them. As she made her way over to his locker, she noticed a tall, muscular guy with short auburn hair throw a t-shirt over his chiseled torso. He looked over at her and politely smiled.

She waved nervously at him. “Sorry. Don’t mean to intrude. I’m just waiting for Drake.”

“You’re good,” he told her as he walked in her direction with an arm extended. “I’m Chuck Mulligan. Nice to meet you.”

“Likewise,” she said, accepting his greeting. “Bragnae Bennett.”

“Drake talks about you all the time.” His eyes quickly scanned down her body trying to be discreet, but she noticed anyway. “I can see why.”

“I guess I’ll take that as a compliment. Thanks,” she smiled.

“It definitely is.” He walked back over to his gear, and slung a duffle bag over his shoulder. “Drake should be done soon. Take care, Bragnae.” She waved at him again as he left the locker room.

After a quick glance around, she took a seat on the bench in front of Drake’s locker. The room definitely had the smell of men in it. It wasn’t unpleasant, rather it was sort of comforting. It was a mixture of hard work, sweat, and cologne – the way any man that was worth a damn should smell.

Just as she was about to pull out her phone to pass the time, Drake started walking towards her… wearing just a white towel wrapped around his waist. His hair was still soaked, but this time it was clean. A tendril of his wet hair curled over his forehead, but the rest was combed back. Residual water from the shower made parts of his upper body glisten. He made her heart skip a beat.

Drake walked right up to her, bent down with his fingers tilting her chin up, and captured her lips in a solid kiss. “You look cute sitting here by my locker,” he said before walking around the bench to get to his clothes.

Bragnae spun around on the wooden bench to face him. Just as she did that, Drake removed the towel from his waist and began drying off the few wet spots left on his chest. Her eyes nearly bugged out of her head. Her jaw dropped as she was faced with the side profile of Drake’s very nice looking dick and the curves of his butt. She had only been privy to his nakedness once before during the threesome with Leo, but everything happened so fast that night that she didn’t have time to really indulge in his magnificent features.

“Oh my,” she blushed, but didn’t look away. In fact, her eyes feasted on his physique with absolute hunger. There wasn’t anything about this man she didn’t crave.

Drake gave her a side smirk before handing her the towel. “Here, I think you’re drooling a little.”

Giggling, she snatched the towel from him, and snapped it against his perfectly formed ass. He chuckled reaching for his cologne.

“You really know how to grab a girl’s attention, don’t you mister?” Even now she couldn’t peel her eyes off of him. Her heart thumped in her chest while heat pooled between her legs.

“Am I making you wet?” He asked without hesitation still standing stark naked in front of her.

Excited by his sudden candor, her lips automatically transformed into a salacious smile. “Uh-huh.” She loved how honest they could be with each other. “To be fair, you already kind of got me started watching you play hockey.”

He cheerfully nodded at her response. She bit her lip desperately wanting to touch him all over. From where she sat, she’d be able to take him in her mouth easily as he towered over her with his scrumptious bod. “Why don’t you come a little closer, and let me drag my tongue around that big guy.” His dick twitched at her comment, and she loved it.

Drake exhaled a slow breath, and stepped into a dark green pair of boxer briefs. Bragnae playfully pouted her lips making him laugh when he turned to her again. “Don’t be too disappointed, Bennett.” Then, he threw on a t-shirt and pulled on a pair of light-washed jeans.

Grabbing his hockey stick, he straddled the bench and held it over Bragnae’s head. “Face me on the bench, and then grab this with both hands.”

She was a little confused but did as he said. As soon as she had a comfortable grip on the stick, Drake pushed on it making Bragnae lean back with it. He followed through until her back was flush with the bench. “What are you doing?”

“Stay like that, and just relax.” He kissed her briefly on the lips. The stick rested perpendicular on the bench, and Bragnae let her arms relax while she continued to grip the hockey stick.

Drake brought her legs together again just so he could push up her tight jean skirt. A tingle shot down her spine, not only from his touch, but from the anticipation of what was to come. With the denim pushed up to her waist, Drake hooked his fingers around the straps of her red satin panties and pulled them off. He sat down on the bench, and threw her legs over his denim clad thighs while positioning her just right.

“Now, it’s my turn to use my tongue.” He winked at her before diving his face down to her pussy.

A moan immediately left her body while she slowly twisted her torso, feeling his tongue work wonders against her sensitive skin. Her breathing quickened, and she tightened her calves against his legs. The tension in her body elevated the pleasure she was receiving. Her grip on the hockey stick constricted as he continued.

Drake used his hands to tilt her pelvis up to give himself a better angle. His skillful tongue rounded her clit in slow concentric circles before moving to rapidly flick her swollen bud.

Bragnae arched her back in approval. “Ohmigod, Drake. Don’t stop.” She felt the pressure build quickly leading to what she knew was to be a fantastic explosion of pleasure. Like the trooper he was, Drake kept up that same pace for a few more moments until heaven rippled throughout her body. She sent a flood of cries into the room as he continued to coax more of the orgasm from her depths.

Drake dragged his tongue around her skin, even dipping down to lap at her entrance. She was at complete peace in that moment reveling in the pleasure high he put her in. When Drake sat up, he wiped his mouth and took a deep breath followed by a triumphant smile.

“How was that?” He asked knowing the answer.

She nodded her head still trying to regain her breath. “Amazing. So amazing.”

He patted the side of her leg smiling down at her. “You are so beautiful, and you taste so nice.”

“You always make me feel so good about myself, Drake.” She let go of the hockey stick, and stretched her tensed arms above her head. “Thank you for this.”

“You’re welcome.”

“Now, will you let me return the favor?” She asked still lying flat against the bench. He had slayed her with his tongue, and she was utterly spent.

“I appreciate the offer, but this was all about you today. Plus, it’s better for my training if you don’t.”

“Why? Wouldn’t it be better to release the built up tension?”

“That’s exactly why I shouldn’t. Not having that release helps me to focus on my training more, making me more aggressive on the ice. Being hot and bothered makes for a better hockey player than a happy guy that just got off.”

Her eyes widened as she thought about what he said. “You’re not saying we can’t do this and have sex for the entire hockey season are you?”

Drake laughed. “No, thank God. The coach is deciding the first line for the upcoming season based on our performance here. The guys that get it will see the most time on the ice during the games. To make it fair for everyone, the coach put these rules in place to motivate us while we’re at this camp.” He gently massaged her thighs as he continued. “So, by not giving into my desires, I can train harder and play better during the practice games. I’m not even touching myself.”

Bragnae’s mouth gaped open in surprise. “Wow. It makes a lot of sense when you put it that way, but didn’t this torture you a little bit?”

He looked down at her still widened legs longingly. “Yes. Yes it did.” He sighed before meeting her eyes again. “But seeing you like this now and remembering the taste of you in my mouth will fuel me even more when I’m on the ice this week. Hell, I shouldn’t have even allowed you to visit me, but I wanted to see you.”

Bragnae used what core strength she could find to sit up amidst the incapacitating pleasure that still radiated in her body. She framed his face with her hands as he looped his arms around her back for support. “Did you miss me as much as I missed you?”

“Mmhmm,” he grinned, looking down at her affectionately. “I sure did.”

She smiled up at him. “Will the coach tell everyone who gets the first line by the end of the camp?”

“Yep.”

“Good. Then, when you come back to the university, we’ll have to celebrate because I know you’re going to get it.” She let a hand slide down the muscles of his chest. “And celebrate we will.” She looked up at him through her eyelashes being extra flirtatious.

“I can’t wait.” Drake leaned forward to kiss her. “Wanna grab some dinner?”

“Yeah, I bet you’re famished.” Drake scooted back, so she could more easily untangle herself from him. “Just let me put my panties back on, and we can go.”

Drake chuckled, retrieving them from the floor and tossing her the discarded thong.

Later, after they finished a couple of delicious burgers, they drove back to Drake’s hotel. They got out of the truck, so they could say their proper goodbyes.

“Thanks for letting me come up to see you. It will make this next week a little easier to get through.” Bragnae leaned back against the driver side of Drake’s truck, and he leaned into her.

“I’m glad you did. I needed this little reboot, too.”

“Do you want me to drop off your keys with Leo before you get back?” She needed to mentally prepare for it again if he wanted that.

“Nah, you can hold onto them. The team gets back next Sunday morning, and I’m sure we’ll see each other that day at some point. At least I’m hoping we will.” He stroked her cheek with the back of his finger.

“I’m pretty sure I work the lunch shift that day, but as soon as I’m finished I’ll be coming to see you.”

“Sounds good.” He leaned in for a deep lingering kiss. The cool breeze of the night perfectly complemented the heat between them. “Let me know when you get back tonight.”

“I will.” She pulled him in again, needing to feel his soft lips one more time before she left. “Good luck with the rest of the camp. I know you’ll kick ass and get the first line.”

“I hope so. Thanks, Bennett.” He opened the truck’s door for her, and watched her climb in. She started the engine, and rolled the window down. He looked her over with a smile on his face. “You look pretty good behind the wheel of my truck.”

She gave him a flirty shrug. “Bye, handsome.”

“See ya. And drive safe.” He tapped the door, and stepped back so she could pull out of the parking space.

Bragnae waved once more before driving away. A day that started off more stressful than anything else ended with lovely time spent with Drake. She really liked him, and felt their bond growing with each passing day. When he returned from his camp, it was highly likely they’d have sex. And she was more than ready for that because she wanted to be closer to him now more than ever before. She loved the idea of being his and only his. And she knew it was just a matter of time before they made their relationship status official.

But that also meant she needed to tell Drake about Leo. He needed to know before things turned more serious. Being roommates, would that complicate things for them? Would it somehow make Drake not want to be with her? Only time would tell.  

[probably-writing-x]

The choice is yours.

Guzmán x Nadia/Lu

Request by @adeena221843 : Hey.i hope u are well, ur writing is very creative so I was wondering if u could write a sad fan fiction of lu and Guzman where she tells him that if he truly loves nadia to go for her because if he truly loved lu there wouldn’t be a choice.💚💙💚💙💚

Gif is not my own

Requests are open🤍

Guzmán wasn’t sure when things had changed. He couldnt pin point the exact moment where his feelings fell and landed in the palms of another girl. Him and Lu had always been together. They’d practically been destined for each other since the first date they’d had. Their families knew each other, they were of the same social standing, and everyone knew them as the central couple of the school. Guzmán had never realised that it would change. And he’d always assumed that he loved Lu. In fact, he did love Lu. But he only realised that he’d never been in love with her when he started to fall in love with Nadia. And that felt like his whole world flipping on its head. No matter how much he tried to convince himself otherwise, he’d fallen deep in love with her - and it was something that he could never say he’d felt with Lu.

“Guzmán, are you listening to me?” Lu sighs, “Or is there any point in asking?”

“Sorry, no, I was listening,” He nods, “Something about tonight, right?”

Lu rolls her eyes, “Dont worry about it, I’ll just meet you there.”

“Hey, I’m sorry,” He reaches over and squeezes her hand, “Just got a bit distracted.”

“Have you decided what you’re wearing tonight?” She asks him, brushing her thumb over the back of his hand.

“No, not yet,” He says, “Do you want to pick something out?”

Her lips curl up into a smile and he laughs, pulling her up with him as they go to look through his clothes. That was the way it was with them. Easy. Right?

It always had been. He had no reason to not love Lu. Surely? Things weren’t perfect. She had her flaws but so did he. They both thought about themselves a little bit too much sometimes and could be a little bit judgemental before intending to be. But they’d always just worked together. How could they not be together? She’d been with him through so much, that wouldn’t change just because of Nadia. Surely not?

- - - - - -

Lu wasn’t sure at what point she’d lost Guzmán. She wasn’t sure at what point she’d stopped being his everything and instead become just another something. Had she ever really been his everything? It wasn’t like she hadn’t tried. She’d stuck with him through all of his mess ups, all of his troubles and his darkest times. Because, at the end of the day, he’d always kiss her, wrap his arms around her and silently confess that he loved her. That was the way it went. She was supposed to be patient, you always have to be in a relationship. But she wasn’t sure at what point she’d started carrying the weight for two on only her shoulders. When did he slip away from her?

When Nadia had first joined Las Encinas, Lu knew that she was competition. She knew she’d have to keep check on her spot at top of the class, make sure she was still in the running to get the top grades at all times. She had to be wary of that. Maybe even of Nadia rapidly becoming a favourite in the class. But never had she expected that she’d lose Guzmán to her. Without having anything to blame Nadia for. Nadia had been nothing but a good person and that’s what made it all worse. If it had been Carla, and she’d slept with Guzmán or something ridiculous, Lu could yell at her and tell her they’d never be friends again. It would end in a screaming match with Guzmán and it would be over. But Nadia? It wasn’t like that. She wasn’t just a girl that had caught his eye and turned his head. She was a girl that had unknowingly taken his heart in her hands and made him into a better person in so many ways. Because he wanted to be a better person to prove he was good enough for her. With Lu, he always knew he was good enough. He always knew that the person he was had always been enough for her. For Nadia, he wanted to be more. And that’s when she knew that he loved her.

“Here,” Guzmán speaks up as he walks over to her in the club and hands her the drink she’d asked for.

“Thank you,” She smiles, taking the glass as she takes a small sip, “Guzmán, can I ask you a question?”

As she asks, his eyes trail to the door to where Nadia and Omar had just walked in together. She looked so much more bold than she did at school, so much more relaxed and confident. It still baffled him that she managed both so well - the introvert and the developing extrovert.

“Yeah, sure,” Guzmán turns his attention back to Lu, “What did you want to ask?”

She has a knowing smile on her face, “When did you first fall for her?”

It makes him practically freeze on his feet. His heart skip a little beat as even it was shocked by the abrupt asking.

“Wh-what did you-“

“It’s okay, Guzmán,” She shakes her head, “I just want to know when you first realised.”

“It’s not like that Lu,” Guzmán confirms, “It’s not just like I suddenly loved her, I’m confused.”

She takes his hand and leads him over to the side of the room, where they were accompanied by the floor length windows exposing a view of the empty club. Of course it was empty, it was hardly even the evening yet.

“I’m not expecting you to find any excuses for it, or any reasons why I’m wrong, anything,” Lu shakes her head, “Just tell me what you’ve been feeling.”

Guzmán swallows and begins spilling whatever came to mind first, “I didn’t plan it. I don’t think I’m even certain that it’s happened the way it has. You’ve been nothing but good to me Lu, and you constantly prove that. But there’s just something telling me that... something I can’t explain...”

“That means you feel some way about her too,” Lu finishes for him, “What feeling?”

“I don’t know Lu,” His voice breaks a little, “I’ve tried so hard to push it aside and convince myself that I’m just being stupid for even thinking that I see her like that. I mean, god, I’ve got you! And that should easily be enough. But it’s like I see her and...”

“She makes you want to be a better person, Guzmán,” Lu states so simply that it feels like a dagger, “I just make you feel content.”

“I didn’t plan for any of this. I promise you. I just don’t know what I want and I don’t want anyone to get hurt in the process of that,” Guzmán is shaking a little as he speaks, meaning every single word he spoke to her - but perhaps not even believing it himself when he says he didn’t know what he wanted.

“Okay, I’m going to make this simple for you a Guzmán and I want you to trust me. Me and you have been together for however many years. If you felt the way that I feel about you, if you loved me with every inch of your being...” She lets out a shaky breath as she’s trying to keep composure, “There would be anyone or anything in the world that could turn your head, and there certainly wouldn’t be a choice.”

“Lu...” Guzmán whispers, feeling as though all energy had just been drawn from his veins and transferred to how confident and composed she remained.

“So, I want you to go over to Nadia and tell her exactly how you feel,” Lu confirms, “Because if she’s the one that you feel that way about, that owns your heart, that makes you feel all of the ways that I tried to make you feel, that you want to be better for... fuck, she’s the luckiest girl in the world.”

Guzmán can’t think of anything better than to wrap his arms around Lu, holding her so tight in the understanding that it would likely be the last time. There’d be no return from this. He wouldn’t just have to apologise like he did when they normally argued. She’d realised that she’d been holding onto a hand that hadn’t been there. Waiting for the beat of a heart that was beating for someone else.

“Now go,” Lu encourages as she pulls away from him, “Youve left it long enough without telling her how you feel and you know I spent far too long on my makeup to mess it up crying over you. Go after her!”

She hits his arm encouragingly as Nadia walks outside. And Guzmán feels a racing tug at his heart to go after her footsteps and catch up with her like some scene out of a movie.

“Go, Guzmán!” Lu laughs a little, waiting for his feet to hurry off after her.

Lu takes in a deep breath, flicks her hair over her shoulder, takes a sip of her drink, and pats away any lasting tears. She holds her shoulders back and walks down to join the rest of the group. She couldn’t let her heart break for a boy that never held it strong enough in the first place.

- - - - - -

When Guzmán catches up to Nadia, everything that Lu said echoes in his mind. She’s stood by the road and he walks around until he’s stood in front of her with all of his attention in those eyes.

“Things are over with Lu,” He confirms, news they’d both been waiting to hear for a long time.

“Aren’t you still confused over what you want, Guzmán?” Nadia questions, closing herself off from him with folded arms.

“Even questioning things in the first place was proof enough that I’ve always known what I wanted,” Guzmán states, “It’s you, Nadia. It’s always been you.”

[blehbleehhhh]

Bubble Gum ft. EreMika❣️

A lovely reader requested a super sweet fluffy modern childhood fic that I'm really excited to share! Hope you'll enjoy. ❤️

ps: my mom calls me ladybug, just humor me.

The sun was a blazing fiery ball, twinkling its peak midday golden rays over a small sleepy town and the playground where local children congregate when their parents send them out to play. Titan's Fury Park happens to be one little girl's favorite place of solitude where she can steal away if only for a moment to add drawings to her sketchbook since there are many beautiful places to sit that never fail to inspire a doodle or two. Somewhere in a small group of boys are her two best friends playing a very competitive game of football. Mikasa has witnessed it herself many times, where Eren will rub it in Jean's face that his team had won the game by aggressively throwing the ball into the grass, while Armin sits on the sidelines feeling uninterested in the sport, but he'll keep score as he reads one of the many books off his shelf that's most likely already been read.

The precocious, green eyed boy was instructed by his mother to keep watch over Mikasa, who later stubbornly insisted that Armin and Eren do their own thing since she fully intends to work on filling her sketchbook instead of playing. But one of the local girls who only recently started to pick on her had other plans. "Where's your cute friend?" Annie inquires, blowing a small bubble with pink gum as she stands confidently before the girl sitting cross legged on a bench. Mikasa sighs with irritation, deepening the shading on her closeup tree bark sketch. "Hey, I asked you a question. Look up from your stupid scribble book." But the girl remained strong and ignored how demanding and harsh these words were being spoken to her by such a blunt person, carefully smudging a spot on her sketch with the pad of her pinky. "Excuse you," Annie hisses under her breath obviously feeling impatient as she suddenly grabs Mikasa's long hair with a truly evil grin. "You know, you really have such beautiful hair. It would be a shame if you had to cut it." Her victim frowned and reached for her hair only to have it painfully tugged in retaliation, making her whine in discomfort as she holds her scalp protectively.

"Well, you don't have to worry about that, because I'm not cutting it."

"Uh-huh, where's Eren?"

"I don't know!" Mikasa rushes to say as her hair is tugged once more. "Why?!"

"Because I think he's cute and I want you to talk to him. Aren't you his sister or something?"

"Not by blood..."

"Tell him that Annie thinks he's cute."

"Can't you do that yourself?!"

"It would be so much more fun to see you do it. And if you don't, I'll destroy your sketchbook."

"Fine..." Mikasa reluctantly agrees, shyly darting her eyes from Annie's stoic expression. "I'll talk to him later."

"Thanks." Annie smiles as she spits her gum out on her hand and smushed it with raven hair, rolling the wad around between her hands to mix everything together. She snickers to herself as she walks away, leaving Mikasa with stinging eyes and a quivering bottom lip already feeling humiliated to the point where her cheeks and the tips of her ears felt hot. It was with a heavy heart that she gathers her belongings and holds them to her chest as she takes off running in search of Eren, the one who she always has and always will turn to in stressful situations.

Eren was found playing football with his friends like she anticipated, but he's currently on the ground after being tackled aggressively by Reiner and Jean for the ball. Armin cheers for his friend from the sidelines while Bertolt, Marco, and Connie watch intently to learn the final score of their fourth game. "HA! I GOT THE BALL! CONNIE! CATCH!" Jean roars with laughter, cackling triumphantly as he rushes to throw the ball at Marco not far away to finish the game in their favor.

Until they heard truly hysterical crying.

"ERENN!" Mikasa cries, her voice wailing his name at the top of her lungs as tears streamed down her face. He immediately sits up from where he was laying in the grass recovering after being tackled so aggressively and his heart sunk to see her so distraught.

"What?! What?!" Eren hurried to his feet and stumbled a step as he runs to embrace her. "What happened?! Why are you crying?!" She looks up to meet his concerned and inquiring gaze with watery eyes, her tears making him cloudy until she blinks them away.

"Someone was mean to me and and -" She coughs suddenly from crying, making her cheeks even hotter with embarrassment. I don't want all this attention! Her foot stomps angrily. "She put gum in my hair!" Dreading the consequences of Annie's actions, Mikasa bursts into tears because she knows that she needs to have this obnoxiously large wad of gum cut from her hair, when she happens to love how long it's grown to barely above the waistline of her long skirt. Eren's blood boils with anger and the look in his eyes is one that only someone close to him would recognize. It somehow made her cry even more to feel validated that what happened was indeed a horrible thing. He sighs deeply to keep his cool and studies at the wad of gum in her hair, holding it carefully in his hand.

"Who did this do you?"

"It-" She sniffles and takes in a few involuntary breaths as her body tries to settle itself, his fingers releasing her gummy hair. "It was Annie. She was telling me to tell you that she thinks you're cute, when she just squished her gum in my hair!" The embarrassed little girl sighed with sorrow as her best friend wrapped his arm around her shoulders and gently brought her in for a hug, letting her cry into his shirt. He glanced up at Jean, who just gave an understanding nod to let him know that it was more than okay for him to skip out.

"Figures," Eren sighed as he rests a hand on the top of her head the way his mother comforts them at home. "Annie asked me the other day if I liked her and I think she meant the like like way, so now she won't leave me alone," He maintains an arm around her shoulder and gives a small wave at his friends while they go over the score together and rehydrate. "Come on, Mika, I'll take you home."

"But I want you to stay here. I can walk home by myself..."

"I know you can, but I want to be there for you when you're, like, sad and bummed out. Those guys understand."

"But why?" Mikasa's voice was soft and her breathing has already begun to settle much to his relief.

"Because you're my best friend and I really really hate seeing you anything but smiling. It's beautiful," Eren smiles at first until he realized what he said, and it make him chuckle awkwardly. "I mean you're beautiful. I-I mean.." But it was too late. His slip of the tongue has already made her giggle amidst her soft sniffling as she wipes the tears staining  her cheeks with her fingers. He swallows hard and his face grows hot, but her laugh always makes him smile. No matter what. "Never mind." She tucks her hair behind her ear and plays with her fingers anxiously.

"You're so funny, Eren.."

"I wasn't really trying to be funny, but thank you." He chuckled as they came up behind his mother outside while she was gardening, who did a double take and immediately dropped her tools in the flowerbed, running over to Mikasa terribly concerned. "Hi, Momma, someone was mean to Miki and put gum in her hair."

"This will never come out!" Mikasa whines, stomping her feet in the grass as she looks down at the wad of gum and hair, trying desperately to untangle the gooey mess with her little fingers to no avail. Carla frowns as she carefully takes the girl's hands in hers and holds them while Eren wipes tears from beneath her eyes. "Aunt Carla, I don't wanna cut it!"

"Mikasa, I'm so sorry.." Carla opens her arms to offer a hug that was happily taken. "This does need to be cut out, ladybug, but it'll be alright. Your hair will grow out before you know it, I promise." She gently pats the little girl's back before pulling away to stand up, offering her hands for both children to take as they followed her inside the house. "Why don't you two wait for me by the sink so I can find a pair of scissors?" She says as they enter the kitchen, their little hands departing from hers while they run to the sink together and little sneakers squeak on the hardwoods. Carla soon comes over with scissors in her hand and a sad look on her face because she has to cut these beautiful raven locks. Mikasa sighs softly as the scissors were positioned to cut above the gummy mush. "Hold still, okay?" Raven hair drops silently on the kitchen floor as the scissors slowly work their way around her head, leaving her with just as luscious shoulder length hair. "You cutie pie, look at you!" Carla smiles as she sets the scissors on the counter and carefully runs her fingers through Mikasa's hair to make certain all of the gum has been removed. The little girl offers a small smile in return as she wipes her tears from beneath her eyes.

"It actually feels good to have my hair cut.."

"I'm so glad that you like it."

"Thank you for fixing my hair. Eren was right, you do have super powers."

"Mikasa!"

"Oh, my sweet baby boy," Carla laughs and brings the embarrassed child in to plant a kiss on his forehead and ruffle his hair. "You’re in desperate need of a haircut as well, but I can take care of that later. Why don't you take Mikasa back to the playground?"

"Will you take me?" The little girl turns to her friend with a hopeful look and he simply grins.

"Will you smile for me?"

"Okay.." Mikasa smiles and found her cheeks to be hot when his face immediately lights up in response. Before she knew it, his hand was in hers and they were well on their way back to the park. It was still hot outside from the midday sun, its blinding rays invading their vision frequently, but Eren still manages to spot blue wildflowers growing along the sidewalk. He stops and his heart races as he picks the flower for her while she's far enough ahead not to notice. "Eren? Where are you?" She hollers, turning in a slow circle to see him running up to her.

"Sorry! I'm right here!"

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah," Eren smiles as his ears grew hot, twisting the tiny flower stem with his fingers behind his back. "I'm great. Are you okay?" He asks as they start walking once more, the park in clear distance.

"I'm..I'm good. Your momma is so nice."

"She's pretty cool, but so is your momma. And your dad is so funny."

"Yeah, he is. Your dad is silly, too." Mikasa giggles, her sneaker kicking a rock out from her path. "I know you're angry at yourself for not being there and I just wanted to say that you don't need to be so hard on yourself. It makes me sad."

"Yeah, well, it's true. I'm sorry Annie is so mean to you now."

"I think she's jealous that you and I are so close."

"Probably, but who needs her? You're way cooler than Annie anyway." Eren smiles, her giggle gracing his ears once more as they make their way to the swing set. She sits gracefully on a swing and he takes the one beside her, still twirling the blue flower he picked for her between his fingers. "Mikasa?" He turns to look at her and swallows hard to gather his nerve.

"Hm?"

"I...I like your hair short," He smiles shyly and they both blush as he scoots his swing closer to hers. "I mean, I like it long, too, but you look really pretty with it short." She grins, his hand raising hesitantly to push hair behind her ear and gently tucked the flower in that gap. But then, Mikasa did something he hadn't ever anticipated her doing and leaned in, clearly feeling slightly unsure as she kisses his blushing cheek.

"Thank you, Eren.."

"You're welcome," He smiles as their swings separate and stands up so he can be behind her. "Can I give you a push?"

"Yeah!" She says excitedly as her legs kick the air.

"Okay," Eren laughs in amusement as he pulls her swing back and pushes her forward. "Here we go!" She giggles as she's pushed, and he can't help but think about how cute she is no matter how hard he tries to fight it.

"Push me higher, Eren! Push me higher!"

"Anything to hear your laugh again." And with that he gives a harder push to her lower back, making the swing soar even higher. She cheers in excitement and giggles as her short raven hair blows in the breeze, holding the blue wildflower safely in her hand against the swing chain so it doesn't get lost. They remained this way for a while, just enjoying each other's company and sharing many laughs knowing that there will be more in the future.

[comfy-whumpee]

immortal

TW: impalement, gore. file this one under ‘very whumpy things I wrote before I knew I was into whump’.

The first thing that hit her was the smell of blood.

Not new blood. Old blood. Overpowering the moment Lessick opened the door, the stench told of blood older than Carla had ever known. The thin strip light at the top of the corridor illuminated droplets on the floor, even footprints, that were faded to pale brown. Weeks old.

Lessick, stony-faced, pushed her onwards. The place was thin and dank, the air heavy and the stones old. Carla couldn't see ahead of her, as the harsh light faded and they reached the end. It was a door, she realised, not a wall. Thick, heavy, dark wood, bolted twice. Lessick reached out and opened it, placing one hand on her shoulder as he did so.

"Remember this," he murmured, his hand on the doorknob. "This is why you obey me."

The smell intensified, putrid and suffocating, as the door opened and the wet air within gushed out. A single light bulb lit the room in pale, stark light, casting harsh shadows even on the grains of the stone floor. It was red here, on top of the brown, and there was a quiet trickling sound. Carla saw immediately the drain at her feet, a thin stream of blood flowing into it. Inexorably, though she feared what she would find, her eyes followed it up to the figure on the opposite wall.

Arms splayed with thick poles punched through the elbows; legs, impaled at the knees. Through the chest was a spike the length of her arm. Blood ran in rivulets down every limb, never ceasing, down to drip off the limp toes to the floor, where it gradually flowed away over bloodstained flags of stone. Four broken limbs, like a puppet, with strings coming out the wrong way.

Worst of all was the face. The eyes were intact, dim but open, and looking straight at her. But the mouth was nailed wide, one great spike holding the jaws apart, the teeth crimson, lips overflowing. And the longer she stood there the more she could make out the noise, like a squeaking wheel: laboured, wheezing, shallow breaths, irregular and scraping. A death rattle, over and over and over.

Lessick held her up as her knees gave out, one arm under each of hers, leaning her back against him. "Look," he ordered fiercely, "look at her."

As she stared helplessly, the broken jaw moved in struggling twitches, and a faint guttural sound emerged. "Aa-aaa..." Tears filled the eyes, spilling out to mingle with the blood, and the eyebrows rose pitifully. The noise came again, high with distress, louder: "Aa-aaaaa!"

She knew what that sound was. She sagged, tears flooding her own face, but never taking her gaze from the wall.

"Aa-aaa," the girl called again.

Carla.

Carla's reply came on the struggling breath of a sob, gasped out almost against her will.

"Kei."

She tried to pull free of Lessick's arms, to run to her friend, but Lessick wouldn't allow her. He hauled her back, almost lifting her off the ground, and grabbed her face to turn it towards him. “Don’t fucking move, Carla. Every time you displease me another spike gets put through your friend. Do you want that?"

She shook her head frantically against his grip. "I'm sorry, please don't hurt her."

"Right arm, when you tried to escape," he said, voice rising angrily. "Left arm, when you lashed out at me. Right leg, when you refused to tell me your real name. Left leg, when you spoke out of turn. Chest, when you told them to not to come for you." He leaned into her face, voice dropping suddenly. "Her tongue, because you lied to me."

She sobbed, covering her mouth with her splayed hands, trying to repress the starting gasps of hyperventilation. It's my fault. This is all my fault. I should have listened to him.

His nails dug into her cheeks. "Will you obey me now?" he demanded.

"Yes," Carla sobbed, nodding and crying and pleading with abandon, "yes, anything, I'm sorry, please leave her alone."

"Good." He put her down outside the door, strode across the room, feet faintly splashing in the blood. He placed a hand around the pole in one of Kei's legs, and after bracing himself, pulled it clear in one strong motion. Kei gasped in pain as it came away, and the leg began to heal. Carla watched in shock as the wound moved more slowly than she'd ever seen, and by the time Lessick shut the door it had only just stopped bleeding.

He left crimson footprints on their walk out. Carla was chalk-white and trembling, her gaze distant as she followed his footsteps back, back to the interrogation room.