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madnessr · 1 year

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Last Night

Poly Lost Boys + Michael x Reader

Synopsis: You remembered the day you died vividly, and what had started as one of the best nights of your life quickly turned sour.

Summary: Micheals Ex-Girlfriend received a concerning phone call from Lucy begging her to come and check up on a now distant and unrecognizable Micheal. But what was meant to be a simple reunion and check-in, instead leads to four very rambunctious bikers and an old lover, to be extremely opposed to letting you leave again.

Warning: Suggestive moments, cursing, nonconsensual turning.

Word Count: 6.9k

Part two

The bustling chatter filled the packed room like music, unrelenting as some patrons laughed louder while others cheered softer. Every customer that walked in was rambunctious and different in their own unique way. Although becoming a bartender differed from how you had always pictured your future, ditching your home life was worth every tip and penny you earned throughout the night.

You were a good actor; that's one noteworthy little fact you learned about yourself after a few weeks. Wiping dry a martini glass, your chuckles, greetings, and mischievous remarks almost felt unfamiliar to you as you entertained the customers.

But when the lights dimmed, casting a gentle orange hue against every surface of the bar. The acting, the gestures, and the remarks all began feeling natural.

It left you with a sweet sense of satisfaction, like pushing in the last puzzle piece. But, although the usuals felt more comfortable, you still weren’t to open to the idea of becoming closer to anyone. For all you knew, these people were just here for a drink.

One visit turned into two, then three, until you could recite everyone's orders and names. Your life gradually followed the same schedule as clockwork, checking in either during the morning shifts like Monday, Tuesday, and Saturday instead of staying for the wild nightlife like Wednesday, Thursday, and Sunday. A small bell was hanging above the door, giving you and your occasional coworker a heads-up whenever a new patron entered the bar. It was easy to get overwhelmed, the loud bumbling chatter nearly drowning out the music playing. Drunks laughed and cheered with rosy-cheeked grins; others decided to rough-house until Pablo kicked them out.

Filling a pint of beer for your usual customer, you nearly missed the soft chin of bells as someone new entered. The door swung open, and in came a blonde biker who took your breath away. Pulling at your strings as if he was some violinist, plucking at the cords until your chatter turned utterly harmonious. It was like a strange pull, a tugging, nudging aching within your racing heart that simply needed him there. It both excited you and disturbed you. Your banter with the biker didn't last long; he ordered four bottled beers, his gaze never wavering as you shuffled past your coworker making some margaritas for a group of girls as you grabbed the beers out of the freezer and handing them over before grabbing his cash. "You new here?" You finally asked, and you weren't exactly sure what to expect, but his voice matched his looks perfectly.

You snickered, leaning over the bar. Phoenix had some exciting faces to offer, all styles and types. But it was rare you found one that was this attractive.

The biker shrugged; a type of smugness hung across his features. A simple look in his eyes gave you another clue, the man was higher than a kite. "Just haven't seen such a pretty face around in a while." He tapped his hand on the counter with a slight chuckle, stepping back as he waved before walking out the door. You chuckled, shaking your head in amusement as you focused on the other customers. Though, you couldn't quite keep the blonde out of your head.

Not even when your shift ended, wiping a gray-soaked washcloth across the counters and tables. Your coworker cleaned and mopped the floors before you both clocked out. You entered the employee's room, grabbing your belongings before exiting through the back door. You hopped in your car, the streets still thriving, but you only lived several blocks away from the teenage hotspot when things began to gradually cool down. Luckily that's where your shabby little hut came into view.

It wasn't perfect, but decent, and the rent was cheap, so you weren't gonna complain. Parking your bike, you walked up your porch. The old wood creaking underneath your steps, shuffling to grab your keys, you couldn't shake the feeling that someone was watching you. Turning to glance around, you rushed to open the door before entering your safe and humble abode. You locked the door, kicking off your shoes with a sigh as you walked towards your bedroom. You felt a little sluggish now that you were free to be, removing your clothes and hopping in the shower. The piping hot water felt heavenly across your skin, and if you weren't so damn hungry, you would've stayed longer. Loose pajamas, some fluffy socks, and you walked back into the kitchen, heating up some leftovers from the previous night and popping open a can of beer.

You were a rather heavy drinker, one bottle often turned to three, and three would often multiply sooner rather than later. Some people might have called you an alcoholic, but you didn't really mind. Alcohol was your ambrosia, and god fucking dammit, were you willing to die for that nectar. You were on your way to grab the third beer of the night when you heard a small thump against the window.

You found it odd that a bird would hit your window, especially since they weren't nocturnal. But as you wandered over and slid open the window, you watched as a bat squeaked at you. Blonde fluffy fur as it flew away in a rush. You didn't necessarily like bats, but you didn't hate the critters, either. This was your first time seeing one in real life, your eyes flicking to the tree a few feet away from your window. There on the bottom branch, hung the monster, making you laugh. "Sorry, Dracula, the bar closed two hours ago." You were about to close the window wanting to grab your last beer and finish up your movie before heading to bed.

But you halted as you watched the bat struggle on its branch, sloppily falling off and hitting the floor with a small thud. You frowned; you might not know much about bats, but they sure as hell avoided being on the ground. You hesitated before grabbing a towel and an empty shoe box; perhaps, if you were lucky enough, the bat would have flown away by the time you got to it. But unfortunately, the small little bundle of blonde fur still lay frozen on the ground. Sighing, you carefully scoop it up with the towel and lay it in the box before heading back inside.

You sat the box on the kitchen table, sitting down and taking a proper look at the thing. "You must've hit your little head when banging into the window.." You muttered, watching it stare back at you lazily. Whenever it tried to waddle its way out of the box, its little body swayed before eventually tumbling back into the fluffy fabric.

"Looks like you're stuck with me for the night, little guy." You cooed, a small smile tugging at your lips. It let out a small squeak. If you didn't know any better, you would say the bat understood you, turning around and grabbing an apple and a simple cutting knife. You sliced off a small piece, laying it in the box. You didn't know what the hell bats ate, and you weren't going to go out of your way to try and find some insect in your yard, so an apple slice will have to do for now.

Grabbing the box once more, you moved to your bedroom, entering the bathroom through a joined door. You set the box down, waving at the small bat before turning off the lights and closing the door. You got yourself settled and lay down, turning off your bedside lamp and letting out a content sigh. But then you heard it, the muffle whining and whimpers of the small creature in your bathroom. Letting out a groan, you tried covering your face with a pillow to try and drown out the noise, but it was a fruitless endeavor. Getting up with a huff, you turned on the light once more before moving over. You opened the door, flicking on the light as you watched it try and waddle towards you. "Can't you be quiet?" You groan, rubbing your temples.

However, you couldn't help but notice the silence once you had actually acknowledged the bat again, rolling your eyes at its strange antics. "Look, I can't give you attention all night. I need to sleep." You argue, watching the little creature climb up your foot and use its little claws and wings to crawl up your body.

Perhaps it was the previous drink, or your clear disregard for your own sense of self preservation, but you walked back to your bedroom with a shrug. If the little guy just had to sleep with you, then so be it. Sure, the thing could have rabies for all you new but the moment your aching feet lifted themselves onto your soft mattress; you no longer cared.

"Night night, Dracula." You snickered, closing your eyes and falling into a hollow state of peace.

Walking up, once again alone, fills you with a familiar sense of loneliness. You look around for your little companion, but you simply couldn't find him. You opened all of your windows in case you missed the little guy hiding somewhere before walking down into your kitchen for breakfast. You'd never admit it out loud, but having broken up with your long-term boyfriend, Michael, was rough on you. Half the time, you wallow in alcohol and self-loathing, spending any free time working and trying your damn hardest to move on. The relationship's end wasn't anyone's fault, really; when his father's divorce was finally settled, Michael needed to be with his mom, she needed him during this time, and you couldn't blame him for leaving with you. Looking back on it, you both could've made it work somehow, the long distance, but neither of you two found yourself to really fight for that option.

Sipping on your morning coffee was your ritual, reminiscing about your short past, a daily activity. But today, you were interrupted by the obnoxious sound of your phone ringing. Getting up and plucking the phone from the wall, your body tensed at the sweet sound of Lucy, Michaels's mother. She was the kindest person you knew, a relaxed parent that focused on a kid's trust rather than forcing the truth out from your experience.

"Hey honey, how have you been?" Her familiar, parental tone hummed over the phone. The sound tugged a smile across your lips. "Dandy, what about you, Lucy?" You knew better than to know Lucy wasn't just calling to check in with you, and although every fiber of your being wanted to cut to the chase, you managed to stay polite. Lucy let out a hum, happy with your answer. "I'm good—we're all good. But, listen, I'm sorry to call you for this, but it's about Michael." You nodded, although you knew she couldn't see you; you stayed silent, asking her to continue. "He's changed, distant. He hasn't been the same, and Sam says he's been involved with some worrisome people. I know it's a lot, but I can't help but worry. He won't talk to me, but he'll talk to you. I'll provide you with a room and everything; just please check in for me."

You could tell she was pleading; her tone was very clear with that. But could you really do this? You and Michael broke up, but you've been together since freshman year. You knew his family, and he knew yours; even if you weren't together anymore, you were still friends. With a long sigh, you rubbed your temples.

"Alright, I'll be there."

You don't plan on staying long, glancing at the backseat of your car where a small suitcase sits. You brought the essentials, but since it was summer regardless, you wanted to consider this a short beach-side vacation for yourself as well. It made coming to Santa Carla more reasonable.

Following the address Lucy promptly gave you afterward, you drove up the narrow driveway to an old-looking house. It must've been a generational home bought in the 40s if you had to guess. The sun was already setting by the time you arrived; stepping out of the car, you were greeted by an excited Lucy. However, you knew her better than that. The small stress wrinkles give away how worried she must've actually been.

She embraced you in a big bear-like hug, making you chuckle as she brought you in for some coffee. You sat inside, shielded by the hot California sun, as you stirred some creamer into your coffee. You two sat in the kitchen, a small desk separate from the main dining table.

"So, care to tell me a little more about what's been happening?" You ask, knowing that if you avoided the subject, so would Lucy. She let out a sigh, rubbing her temples as she nearly deflated before you.

"You know it's been hard for them—the divorce. Sam wasn't that close with his father; I'm afraid he experienced a more absent father figure than Micheal did. No, Micheal grew up with everything being perfect; I had a good marriage, and he had a good father and a stable home life." Lucy hummed, taking a long sip of her coffee.

"I know it wasn't easy for them. For any of us, really, but as a parent, I can't help but wonder. Did I do the right thing? Was Santa Carla really what the boys needed?"

You weren't exactly sure what to say; both you and Michael were adults at this point and were mature enough to have a conversation like this. But before Lucy was your friend, she had been more of a mother figure for you. Seeing her struggle so much makes you frown, a heaviness tugging at your lips. People really could be awful sometimes. You grabbed her hand, giving it a gentle squeeze as you smiled at her.

"Listen, I know being a parent is hard. But you're a good mom, okay? You have been since the start. But you need to listen; this move wasn't just for them. It was for you as well. You suffered a shitty divorce and dealt with an even worse ex-husband. You deserve this new start; let me handle Michael; I'm sure he'll come around." You watched as small tears seemed to prickle at her eyes, "Oh you!" She sang before pulling you into a hug. "I've missed you." She added, rubbing small circles on your back. You couldn't help but smile, not saying it but letting the small squeeze you returned to the hug speak for you.

The sun had already set as you managed to unpack your things in the guest room, tackling Sam in a big-old sibling-like hug before heading to the boardwalk with him. Lucy had left a few hours earlier for work, which is where you were headed now. Sam led the way as he filled you in on Micheals's behavior. To say you were concerned now was an understatement; nothing Micheal did now made sense. This wasn't like him.

You walked over to the Videotape store and found Lucy glancing at the videotapes decorating the walls. You walked around, glancing at the movies that might interest you. You eventually ended up in the same aisle as a brown biker, someone who vaguely reminded you of the blonde one you met days ago. You were about to pick up The Shining when the man interrupted.

"You new here?" He eventually asked, his gaze lingering for an unusually long time. You struggled, letting out a dry chuckle. "That obvious, huh?" You hummed, feeling more at ease. The man was more stoic than you were used to, but the moment you heard his own amused chuckling, your tense shoulders gradually dropped. The man was mesmerizing, a special charm in every little trinket and clothes covering him. You felt an annoying sense of deja vu, feeling your heart push and pull your subconscious self towards this man. To gush about his leather jacket or talk about anything else for hours. He seemed to smile, catching your lingering gaze before clearing his throat and pointing towards one of the videotapes. "The Shining's good, but if you're into that, I'd recommend The Thing and Nightmare on Elms Street too." All you could do was nod, spinning around when you saw Lucy. She smiled at the brunette, handing you something as you rushed out of the shop. Any tapes and movies are utterly forgotten, and you search for space. You made brief eye contact with the man Lucy had been talking, feeling unsettled by him.

You walked along the patios of the shops lining the boardwalk; they were lightly covered in sand. A grainy texture underneath your shoes. You sat there for a moment before your eyes caught the sight of a familiar head of messy brown hair.

Jumping to your feet, you were off. Not sparing anyone a second glance, not until you were about to reach Micheal. You could feel it, that nostalgic giddiness you usually felt whenever you and Micheal met, but during that time, you were still together. You could jump into his arms and kiss his dimpled cheek; the sudden realization that you hadn't actually seen the brunette since you broke up made your heart squeeze. Seeing him felt more real, and the growing realization that nothing would ever be the same again made the air feel heavy.

You paused as you saw a girl with bouncy curls rush over to him, a small boy close behind as she linked their arms. You hadn't realized until then that a part of you was still clinging onto a foolish, utterly bitter sense of hope that things could return to the way they were. You couldn't have been more foolish, the excitement within you replaced with a heavy knot in the pit of your stomach. You wanted to turn around, run away, and drink until you cough your lungs out on some empty street bench. But you couldn't; you weren't here for Michael or yourself; you were here for Lucy's sake.

Taking in a deep breath, you walked over and cleared your throat. Michael had walked up to a group of guys, two of whom you recognized. They turned to you, four eyes curiously staring at one, another pair looking upset, and lastly, Michaels were surprised.

“Y/N?”

"The one and only." You rolled your eyes, trying to retain a sense of normality despite your emotional turmoil. The hippy-look-alike glanced between you two, taking an almost protective step in front of Micheal. "Who are you?"

Before Micheal could answer, you beat him to it. "A friend." You mused, shaking her hand. "I'm Y/N, an old childhood friend from Phoenix." She seemed to relax at the information, nodding with a gentle smile. "I'm Star, Micheal's girlfriend."

Hiding your soft grimace, you nodded with a strained smile.

"What are you doing here, Y/N?"

"Not going to introduce us first, Mikey?" The smooth voice hummed out, but the tone was laced with something else. You couldn't place it, but it almost sounded dissatisfied. You couldn't really answer before Micheal grabbed your arm, a bit too tight for your liking. "Stay out of it, David."

Micheal dragged you away, taking advantage of your stunned state. You suddenly understood what Sam and Lucy had been worrying about. Micheal didn't act like that, at least not for the past few years you've known him. He shoved and pushed his way through the crowd, though that wasn't very hard considering how the people practically split just to avoid you two. He didn't look back at you, nor did his grip loosen until you two were somewhere at the end of the boardwalk; the crowd lessened with every meter.

When you finally came to a stop, you were suddenly pulled into a tight hug. One of his arms snaked around your waist, a grip firm but gentle. His other hand had tangled itself in your hair, practically cradling your head as he nuzzled his face in the crook of your neck.

If you didn't have whiplash from the sudden rushing, you definitely had some now from the abrupt affection. He seemed to be, inhaling you? "Micheal." You nudged his chest, finally able to separate yourself from a very unwilling brunette.

"What are you doing here, Y/N?" His voice was gentle, careful even. As if you'd run away again, which was odd since you weren't the one who left.

"I came to visit you; I see you've made some new friends.." You wandered over to the railing, hopping on carefully.

"Yeah, a lot's happened." He murmured, rubbing his neck to relieve his phantom discomfort. You nodded, silently asking him to go on. "Your family's worried about you; what's been going on, Mikey?" You nudged further, wanting to get to the core of the problem. You couldn't try and help if you didn't know what the hell was going on, but your prodding seemingly did the opposite as Michael became visibly more uncomfortable. Shifting his weight from one leg to the other, rubbed his neck and brushed his fingers through his hair.

"I know, I know—a lot has been going on. I just can't tell you about it." He settled on that answer, getting closer before resting beside you. He leaned his forearms against the railing, glancing at the ocean.

"Will you be staying here for long?" You could tell he was trying to change the subject but ultimately decided that patience was the key in this situation. But apart, small and subtle, I enjoyed the way his question almost sounded pleading.

"Mhm, took a few weeks off for vacation. Lucy's giving me her spare room; I hope you don't mind." He shook his head, his signature crooked smile tugging at his lips. "Nah, I'm glad. Haven't spent any time with my girl in a while."

"Your girl?"

He stuttered at that, "I mean—you know, guess that kinda just slipped." He seemed embarrassed, but you weren't gonna have it. What about Star?

"Don't you have a girlfriend?"

"Star? No, she isn't my girlfriend. It's complicated, but we haven't ever really gotten official." He explained, rubbing his temples at the thought.

You nodded, "Then don't call me your girl Micheal. We broke up; I'm your friend. Please remember that." You reminded him as gently as you could, noticing the subtle flash of pain across his features before he nodded.

Feeling the sudden heaviness in the air, you frowned, looking around as you thought of a way to change the subject. "So, who exactly are your friends?"

"Allow me to take charge of this one, Micheal." A deep, familiar voice mused. The blonde mullet-wearing dude always seemed like a cat, sneaky and quiet but always in the mood to toy with something, in this case, someone.

"Since our Mikey seemed to hide you from us, which is awfully rude of you. I'll take charge from here." He stepped closer, glancing you over. He had an odd look in his eyes and almost seemed angry with Michael for taking you away. However, before the blonde could talk, a rocker look-like, the man you had sworn you saw in your bar prior bounced up beside you and slung his arm around your shoulder.

You ignored the tingles you felt when your bare skin met his but instead chucked it up to your lack of action recently. "I'm Paul, sweetheart!" He stared at you for a bit too long for comfort before moving on. "That's Marko, David, and the brooding guy over there is little ol' Dwayne."

"Why did Dwayne get an extra introduction, and I'm just Marko?" You couldn't help but chuckle at the banter, feeling like the group was awfully playful. So what was the problem? You could see Micheal having a good time with them, so why the sudden change.

"Well, I'm Y/N. Michael's, old friend." You formally introduced, not expecting much, but Dwayne nodded. All of them seemed to be in their own world, Dwayne appearing the most interested. Had you known how focused they actually were on you, analyzing your heart beat, body language, anything they could grasp onto you would've run.

"What brings you to Santa Carla Y/N." David leaned against the railing, his cold gaze curious. "Seems like a pretty far distance to go for just a friend." He added, and at that moment, you got the sense that you just couldn't lie to David. That cold, icy gaze practically looked through you. As if he's had years of experience understanding human behavior, it unnerved you.

"Well, I'm also here for a vacation." You laughed nervously, rubbing the back of your neck.

He gave you a look that simply screamed that he didn't believe you before moving on. "Are you gonna be staying here for long, sugar?" Marko took you out of that uncomfortable situation, making you nod with a hum. "Depends on what you consider long, but I'll be here for a few weeks."

"Well, we ought' to show you around here then. Show you all Santa Carla's got to offer!" Marko hollered, which received agreeing gazes from everyone except Micheal, who appeared rather upset. But you were here, and what better way to understand Micheal than by meeting his friends. "The hell with it." You mused, a grin tugging at your lips at the cheers and eager looks around you.

So, you explored Santa Carla just like Marko had said. Practically losing your soul during the fast carnival rides, winning petty prizes, eating greasy food, fucking with surfer nazis, and stealing some things here and there. So now you were here, surrounded by the starry sky and the roaring ocean. A campfire crackling on the sand as you were sitting in between Michael and Dwayne. With a beer bottle in hand, everyone seemed relaxed despite the playful fighting happening between Paul and Marko.

"So, tell me a little about yourself. How'd you come to know our boy Mikey here?" David had been on your ass since you met; he didn't let your lie slide earlier, even if he hadn't acknowledged it. He was so eager to know about the true nature between you and Micheal, and at the question, you couldn't help but notice Star perk up beside Micheal.

"Nothin' much to tell, I'm afraid. I met Michael when he was interning at his father's mechanics shop when I finally got a car from my old man, only to have it break down on me several weeks later. That is where we met." You glanced at Michael, seeing a faint smile tug on his lips as he seemingly played with the sand.

"I was new, and he offered me a tour around town. One thing led to another, and we became friends. Didn't get together until what, junior year? Yeah, around that time." You add, watching as Paul and Marko suddenly stop rough-housing. "Wait, you two were together?" Paul asked, staring between your two. "You said you were just friends," Marko added, an odd glint in his eyes. You shrugged, taking a quick swig of your beer.

"We are just friends, Mikey and I broke up when he left for Santa Carla." You glanced at the brunette, seeing the way his smile had dissolved. There was a glaze to his eyes as if he was somewhere else completely. You understood; perhaps that's why you guys got together in the first place. You simply understood Michael, the way he was currently dancing with you again in his memories. It was apparent to you.

"Ah." The sound of David's stern hum of acknowledgment made you turn your attention back to the group of boys. They all seemed to be in thought, but none looked too pleased with your previous relationship. "Been happily single ever since—well, I haven't really been looking, to be honest." You added, trying to lighten the mood.

"Oh, you hear that, boys?" Paul grinned, getting up and moving behind you. He rested his hands on your shoulder, leaning down to rest his chin on the top of your head. "She's open for the taking!"

"That is not what I meant—"Before you could finish your sentence, Paul and Marko picked you up. They cheered as they ran towards the inky black ocean water, grinning to themselves as Paul held your hands and Marko your feet. They swung you threateningly over the water's edge. Your screams were filled with laughter as they grinned.

"What do you say, Paul? Should our little sunflower get a drop in the ocean for lying to us?" Paul grinned a mischievous cat-like grin. Glancing at Marko, the expression was practically mirrored. "I don't know, Paulie; maybe she should. Wash off all of that Michael stench off of her."

"Don't drop me! Fuck you, seriously. Don't you dare!" You warned, trying to wiggle yourself out of their death grip.

"Nah, threats won't work on us, honey. Maybe a reward will work, hmm. What do you think, Paul?"

"I think a kiss ought' to do it," Paul answered, glancing between you and his devil-like companion. "Couldn't agree more."

"Fine, fine, have your stupid kiss but let me down!"

As if on cue, they synced up. "If you say so!" Marko cheered as, with a powerful swing, they threw you over and into the water. You let out a shrill screech, landing in the water ungraciously. Once you popped back up, you glared at the two.

Wincing as you tried to get up, you promptly plopped back into the water with a splash. They heard you loud and clear, and Michael was already by Marko and Paul's side. David and Dwayne followed, but not as quickly.

"You okay, sugar?" Paul asked, frowning as you shook your head. You held out a hand to him, silently asking for help to get up. When he walked over to you, not minding his now wet boots. He grabbed your hand, not expecting you to harshly tug him down and into the water with you.

You cackled, wanting to commit the blonde's dumbfounded expression to memory. "Damn girl, you made me worried!" He explained, and Marko nearly doubled over laughing. He splashed you, wrapping his arm around your waist under the water. You froze, not expecting the contact. "That was rather evil of you, sunflower," he mused, in a tone far too low and husky than you had expected coming from the rocker-wannabe.

"And throwing me into the water, wasn't?" You mimicked, turning to glance at him. He laughed, pulling you closer. You could feel his breath taunting your skin; his gaze was all too narrow and lustful for your liking. He looked hungry, practically starved, as he grinned at you. "But I am evil, sunflower, and the one thing you can trust in a bad guy is that he'll always do something awful. It's the good ones you gotta be careful about," He hummed, his gaze shifting to your lips. He lifted his hand, cupping your jaw as he traced his thumb against your lip. "The good ones are a wild card, baby; you never know when they're finally gonna give in." He whispered, and at that moment, you knew he wasn't just talking about petty, mean deeds.

He was referring to you if the position you weren't in wasn't clear enough. However, before you could respond, Michael broke you two up. Unable to form a proper response, you followed your old friend, watching as he returned you to the rest of the group.

"What were they thinking? You'll catch your death being wet this late at night!" Micheal murmured as he complained, making you roll your eyes. "I'm fine; we were just having some fun." You defended, watching as Marko slung his arm around your shoulder. "Yeah, chill out, Mikey."

Dwanye seemed to agree with Micheal instead as he grabbed your hand and gently led you back to the campfire to warm up again. He didn't mind the sudden chill now; your body was still fired up from your earlier encounter with Paul. You felt a heavy cloth drape over your shoulders, glancing to see David's coat loosely set over you. He sat down beside you, handing you your previously abandoned beer bottle.

"Thanks," you smiled.

"It's already so late, yet you don't seem even the slightest bit tired. Do you usually stay up this late?" He asked though he didn't look at you at first. One of his hands loosely held a cigarette, letting a puff of smoke escape through his lips. His eyes focused on the blazing fire in front of you before gradually looking into your eyes. Once again, you could feel your ability to lie fade, not with such a dominating gaze practically reading you.

"I work at a bar most days of the week; you get used to late nights." You explained, being honest for once. He nodded, seemingly appreciating your bluntness.

"Doesn't sound like that's the safest job." Dwayne chimed in, an odd look of concern across his features. You weren't sure what to make of that look; you weren't close enough to garner that concern. But couldn't deny the fluttering in your stomach, fuck, how starved were you for affection?

"Neither is staying in Santa Carla, but here we are." You murmured, a little embarrassed at yourself for being so desperate. You couldn't really describe it, but being around them felt right. Having their attention felt right, and a part of you wanted to keep it. David chuckled at your answer, subtly resting his hand on your thigh.

"Yet here we are." He repeated, his deep voice sending shivers down your back.

"Fuck." You heard someone hiss loudly, everyone's gaze turning to Micheal, who was staring at his watch. "David, it's nearly sunrise." He cursed sternly, sending panicked looks across everyone except the leader. You were surprised yourself, having completely lost track of time. But you were a little confused as all the guys got up and guided you back to the pier.

"You guys got a curfew or something?" You asked, biting the inside of your cheek. Dwanye chuckled as he and the others walked over to their bikes. "Miss us already, sugar?" Paul hummed, getting on his bike. Micheal shook his head, taking your hand gently in his. He caressed the chilled hand with his thumb, and you couldn't help but notice that Micheals's hand was just as cold as yours. "We just have something we need to do; see you tomorrow?"

"You're not going home?" You asked, slightly surprised at the sudden change in atmosphere. "No, like I said, we have something planned." He seemed more nervous, rubbing his neck. A nervous tick he developed when Michael was lying. But you didn't feel like pushing, so you let go of his hand with a sigh.

He walked to his bike, the five starting their engines with a powerful roar. Paul and Marko wave as they drive off, Dwayne following. Michael stared longingly at you, starting his back before driving off too. David moved but promptly stopped before you. One of his feet resting on the floor. He caressed your cheek with his gloved hand, watching you carefully. You felt pulled as if the boy's leaving was pulling your heart along with them. "You think to much." David hummed teasingly, staring into your eyes. "Come back to the boardwalk tomorrow; I'll come and find you," he instructed, not leaving any room for debate.

"How'll you manage that?" You taunted, your breath hitching as he promptly leaned closer.

But instead of a snarky remark, his hand that rested on your cheek slid back. Tangling his fingers in your hair, keeping a firm grip on the back of your neck as he pulled you in for a searing kiss. Sparks flew, and you were sure you could have burnt yourself at the searing heat of the kiss. David wasn't gentle, and there was a dominating eagerness to his lips that commanded your utter acceptance. His teeth playfully nipped your bottom lip, pulling it slowly as he parted. You pulled away with lidded eyes, observing the same intoxicated look flash across David's features.

"See you tomorrow, baby." He chuckled, roaring his engine before leaving you. It took you several minutes to recuperate, walking back into the main center of the boardwalk.

Walking past a closing video store, you weren't really paying attention to your surroundings. The sound of a man's voice pulling you out of your daze, looking around your eyes connected with those of a middle-aged man. You recognized him as the video store owner, who must've said something to you.

"I'm sorry, what was that?" You asked, now focused on the man.

"I said you should stay away from those bikers; they're nothing but trouble." His words seemed stern, yet they had the unnerving power to upset you.

"Yeah, you know them or something?" You asked in an accusatory tone, hearing the man shake his head with a small sigh.

"You've got the same attitude as them; if it were up to me, I wouldn't let you in. But Lucy always wanted a daughter." The man's tone turned sadistic as he got closer, pushing you into a nearby alleyway. Panic shot through you, every fiber of your being screaming at you to run. Something was wrong, terribly wrong. But before your fight or flight response could kick in, you were knocked against the wall with such force the wind was knocked out of you. Leaving you disoriented and wheezing for air.

You felt his fangs graze your skin, a small sob escaping you. A fear of dying, hate for pain, and lingering betrayal being too much for your eyes to hold. What did Lucy have to do with this? You didn't deserve to die, not like this!

You were scared. One of your hands placed itself on his chest, clenching the fabric of his jacket between your fingers as you desperately tried pushing him away. Thrashing as much as you could. When the pain finally arrived, you winced harshly and gasped. The hold on the man's jacket grew tighter as his jaw clenched. It fucking hurt. Hurt like hell. But he refused to move, not wanting to make the feeling worse. The longer you stood there, the more accustomed you felt to the dull aching. It was an awful feeling, leaving you feeling dirty all over, but whatever was happening, it sparked hopes that you might get out of this alive.

You could feel particular sharp sparks of pain whenever you moved, shifting the puncture wounds. Your mind grew cloudy the longer he drank.

"Stop.." You whispered, the words sounding frail and weak. The man needed to stop. Your body was slowly growing light, the feeling of dizziness and sleepiness festering inside you. The hand holding onto him loosened its grip before slowly falling against your side. Your tears had stopped a few minutes ago, your cheeks glistening from the wetness. Your eyes grew dull in color, silently fighting yourself to stay awake. You could practically hear your heart hammering against your chest, each beat loud and overwhelming as it rang through your ears.

It felt like you were dying, and a part of you was convinced you actually were.

Your body was in a state of searing, burning pain. Your heartbeat rang like cathedral drums, harsh and loud before the sound turned quiet. One beat, a pause, then silence. Your body limp and cold, your lifeless body let the blood of its murderer wash down your tongue. Suddenly everything began to burn inside you; your mouth ached horribly, and your fingertips too. Your body felt freezing cold until some drop of relief washed over you, and through your mouth came a small stream of euphoria. Practically lighting your every fiber on fire. Your eyes opened, no longer their usual color but a vivid yellow. Your hand instinctively grabbed the man's wrist, your mind going blank as you sink your teeth into the crimson liquid.

A sigh of relief escaped you as you closed your eyes, swallowing greedily as you calmed the burning inside yourself. You didn't let the man budge, your new, sharpened nails practically digging into his forearm. You felt insatiable; no matter how hurriedly you lapped and sucked on the wound, you wanted more, more blood.

You didn't relent; you practically couldn't. But the urge to look up at your murderer was undeniable. You pulled away, a small trail of the man's blood trailing down the corner of your lips as you looked up at him. Large, doe-eyed hungry eyes stared up at him, the look of a pure predator.

You had died in that alleyway, after all; a part of you just knew that. With speed unrecognizable, you ran away, not sure where, but far, far, away from the boardwalk.

The next night, David and the others did not find you at the boardwalk. But none of them were just going to let you go like that, no, not when mates were so hard to find. It was hard enough for them to have let you go last night, and if it wasn't for the threat of the approaching sun, they wouldn't have. Their boardwalk princess was missing, and there would be hell to pay if they didn't find you soon.

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stale-whole-wheat-bread · 8 months

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Gotta love a good Marko post to start off the new blog >:]

Im just so normal about vampires, and I think Alex Winter is neat, so I was very thrilled about this movie

(Im reposting art from my Instagram @/ Ooraloot for a little bit. Id like to move at least part of my art account over here, because insta is just so... creative about actually showing people your art)

#the lost boys #tlb marko #marko the lost boys #marko tlb #lost boys #vampire #art #artists on tumblr #my art #he's just a little guy #digital art #alex winter #the lost boys 1987 #tlb 1987

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saltylandland · 1 year

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Random NSFW Lost Boys Headcanons bc y not

Some of these are pretty well known and accepted and I’m just regurgitating what I’ve seen a lot, and some of these are my own ideas.

David’s a pleasure dom.

David loves using toys on his partner, will only enjoy it on himself if it’s self inflicted.

I can see David doing ‘daily affirmations’ if you have low self esteem, giving you an orgasm for each affirmation you repeat. (This was definitely from someone else I’ll reblog their post if I can find it)

Dwayne goes feral over thicker girls or any kind of chub really, even if it’s just a little.

Dwayne goes feral over sundresses, he’s smart enough not to assume you wear sundresses just for him, but if he helps you pick out an outfit and he grabs a sundress, you know what’s on his mind.

Marko gets the most kick out of chasing you down before you two fuck.

Sex with Paul while you’re both 🍃

This is a little out there, but I think Paul has a voyeurism/humiliation/degradation streak?

So on one hand, You know how it’s a common trope in the 80s and 90s where teenage boys steal girls underwear? He likes that, the thrill of it, potentially getting caught or purposefully so.

On a more darker side, he likes being degraded for being a creep and pushed around. Like tell him he’s disgusting and to get off while he rearranges your guts. (Consent-fully of course)

If the boys share a s/o or are poly, free use is very quickly brought up. As well as voyeurism in general.

A situation that I thought about would happen pretty often, while you are sitting on someone’s lap, another comes up and starts feeling you up/giving you head. Suddenly it’s like you’re under siege as the person who you are on their lap, hold you down when you squirm as the other goes at it.

#the lost boys #tlb dwayne #the lost boys 1987 #tlb 1987 #tlb fanfic #tlb paul #david tlb #tlb marko #yandere the lost boys #dwayne the lost boys #marko tlb #the lost boys x reader #the lost boys smut #the lost boys headcanons

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master-of-metal66 · 2 months

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Some sketchbook stuff ✏

Sorry for the lack of sketches with Dwayne, I'll do better next time😇

#the lost boys 1987 #tlb 1987 #the lost boys #lost boys fanart #the lost boys marko #the lost boys david #the lost boys paul #sketchbook #lost boys #tlb paul #tlb david #tlb marko #tlb fanart #david and his noodles #the lost boys fanart #traditional art #🥡

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strawberryscribblesandwrites · 10 months

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Vampires vs Bath time

Marko x reader x Paul

Summary: your two blond vampire boyfriends visit you and things get a little steamy ;)

Author's note: I might do full smut part two we shall see

A cool breeze ruffled my hair, the smell of the sea being carried by it. That was one of the few perks of living right near the boardwalk, the fresh smell of the salty ocean.

Another perk was that I was close to my boys.

Ah, my boys. How could I begin to describe my undead delinquents? Well you have David, the ring leader, charming sinister energy to him at first but once you get to know him he had a soft spot for his lost boys. Dwayne is the silent brooding type, he loves reading and riding his bike with the others. Marko and Paul, the messy mischief makers filled with a childish hyperactiveness to them.

When I first met my boys they were well they were kind of a mess, only washing in the ocean, living then with frizzy matted hair- they would occasionally use the public showers near the boardwalks, but after meeting them I was adamant that they should keep good hygiene, especially if we were to all be in a relationship. David and Dwayne followed my rule and would pop in to have a proper hot shower or bath.

Now, Paul and Marko.... would try their best to remember but they would often get caught up in their shenanigans.

My radio was playing a loud rock song that reminded me of a thrilling night in the cave. I danced around my room without a care until the sound of a shrill wolf whistle and catcalling made me jump out of my skin. Spinning around to face my open window, I saw none other than the pair of blonde vamps. Their faces and clothes smeared with thick blood.

"What the hell" I whisper shouted at them.

"Aww baby don't be like that, it was a good show" Paul said with a smirk while Marko was giggling like a mad man. "Hurry in before anyone sees you" I said, shaking my head trying to suppress a smile at their antics.

"Do not touch anything" I said sternly as they came through my window. I walked to my set of draws and got the pair some comfy clothes to chuck on while I put their blood-drenched clothes in the wash. "Let me guess you were playing with your food and got too messy?" I asked them over my shoulder. "You could say that” David said “We were starting to stink up the place" Marko mumbled, like a child being told off. "I think we could have gone a few more days before we needed a good wash" Paul said in a joking manner.

"Gross" I stated.

Putting the boy's respective comfy clothes on my bed, I turned to the pair to inspect which of them needed a more thorough approach. Looking at Paul, he didn't seem too bad. His hair was stiff, as were his clothes- covered in deep, sticky blood. But other than that he didn't seem too bad. Marko, on the other hand, had his shirt half ripped and his soaked jacket looked particularly crusty. His chaps had seen better days, not to even mention how his hair was stuck together, all matted with blood clots.

"Paul you're up first, Marko baby you need extra care. I swear if you boys continue this I'll start treating you like actual dogs and just put you in the paddling pool and hose you down" I threatened

"Woof" Marko said smirking causing Paul to explode with laughter

"Sugar, we aren't that bad" he said breathlessly between laughs. I just hummed in response, grabbing his hand and pulling him towards the bathroom. "Baby, you just stay there. You can read some comics on my desk, I don't mind you getting a mess on my desk chair" I told him over my shoulder.

Turning on the taps of my bath, I added some soap and set some shampoo, conditioner and body wash on the side of the tub.

"Strip" I said pointing to the bath.

"Oooh, no need to be so snappy. If you wanted me naked you should just ask nicely" he said in a seductive tone.

"Not tonight casanova" I told him, causing him to pout.

I walked out of the bathroom giving him his privacy to get in the tub. Waiting, till I heard him shout through the door he was ready. I opened the door to collect his clothes.

"Hey baby, do you think you can wash my hair?" he asked softly. "Of course I can sweetie" I smiled.

Popping my head back into my room after I had put Paul's clothes into the washing machine, I was met with the sight of Marko, with his feet kicked up on my desk engrossed in one of my many comics. I made my way back to the bathroom, knocking on the door and waiting for a response before making my way in.

Paul lay in the bath, his wet hair pooling around his broad shoulders, his face and chest absent of the blood that was there earlier that night. "Hey Paulie" I said softly as I kneeled by the bath. He gave me a sweet smile as he sat up giving me better access to his head.

I truly loved nights like these with my boys. Sure they were killers, but they were also the boys that always treated me with love and care.

Kissing Paul's shoulder, I leaned for the shampoo, squirting some on my hand and massaging it into his scalp, causing Paul to let out a soft groan, my nails raking across his head."Have I told you how much I love you?" Paul breathlessly groaned as I started pouring water gently over his hair. “I'm always happy to hear it baby” I said, kissing his shoulder again.

I continued rinsing his hair until it was free of soap, repeating the process with the conditioner. “I could get used to this” Paul sighed, as the water sloshed round the tub as he started to stand up. “Well, I'm glad to hear that because I would prefer it if my boyfriend didn't smell like a corpse when I see him” I chuckled, wrapping a towel around his waist before he stepped out of the bath. “Aww, don't you find the smell of rotting sexy babe” he teased, wrapping his arms around my shoulders, pulling me into his bare chest. “Hmmm. Nope. I don’t think it is” I joked into his chest.

“Come on pretty boy, Marko needs a bath and a good scrub” I said, kissing his chest, causing a deep rumble to spread through him.

“Your clothes are on the bed and the hair dryer is in my desk drawer” I said, opening the door of the bathroom for him.

I leaned down putting my hand in the now lukewarm water to pull out the plug and let it drain .

Leaning my shoulder against the doorframe of my room, I watched as Paul moved over to my desk where Marko was sat. Paul leaned over him to get to the draw, allowing Marko to quickly lean up and kiss his jaw. “You smell nice” he told him. “Thanks bud” he said with a soft smile, retrieving the hair dryer.

Moving back to the bathroom as the last of the bath water emptied out, I replugged it, filling it with hot water and more soap, waiting until the bath was full until I called on Marko.

After a few minutes, he hadn't come. I decided to see why he was taking so long, walking over to my desk and leaning down over his shoulder. “Marko baby, why aren't you coming to the bathroom?” I asked softly.

“Babe, this comic is bitchin’. Look!” he said, excitedly showing me the panels of two characters fighting. Chuckling, I kissed his temple. “That's pretty cool, but ya gotta get a wash baby”. He groaned as he put the comic down.

We both moved to the bathroom where the bath was almost full of hot water and soap. “Pass me your jacket” I told the blond vampire. He shrugged off his jacket with a sigh. Giving a quick thank you, I moved his jacket to the kitchen where I could hand wash it.

I knocked on the door of the bathroom and waited for the okay from Marko to come in.

“Hey” he said, as I entered the steamy bathroom. “Hi” I smiled.

Marko was sat up straight in the water. Unlike Paul, he hadn’t bothered to rid his face and chest of congealed and dried blood .

Kneeling by the bathtub, I soaked the washcloth in the water, bringing it up to Marko’s face and gently scrubbed his chin. “You're both such messy eaters, you know that?” I asked with a chuckle. “We can’t help it babe, we just get a lil excited is all” he stated with a smile. I chuckled slightly at his response.

Gently, I grabbed his chin and tilted his head back so that I could wipe the blood from his neck. Occasionally, I would re-wet the cloth until his neck was clear of blood. I placed a set of soft kisses on his neck, up to his jawline. Pulling away from Marko, I dipped the cloth back in the water.

“Why are you so gentle with us?” he questioned.

“What do you mean?” I asked, while tilting my head and smiling softly.

“Well, I mean, you’re so soft with us. You make sure we are clean, and I mean- well look at you. You’re cleaning a bloodthirsty creature of the night” he stated. “I mean, you wash Pauls hair, you give David massages when he gets worked up, you sit and read with Dwayne, and don’t even get me started on how soft you are with Laddie. You buy him allsorts. You treat us so well and I don’t understand why” he said bewildered

“Hmm. Well, the answer is simple” I said as I brought my soapy hand up to his cheek. “It’s because I love you all, so very dearly” I smiled sweetly.

Marko broke out into a wide smile. “Awww, babe. You love us? Ewww” He joked as he pulled me into a kiss.

Pulling away, I gave him a soft look.“Alright lover boy, I should really wash your hair now. It’s all matted” I said. Sternly grabbing the bottle of shampoo, I started to lather his hair. “It smells like you” he mumbled to himself as I continued the process of lathering and rinsing until there were no more suds in his hair.

Grabbing the conditioner, I gently raked it through his hair before grabbing a comb to get the knots out of his curly hair, being careful not to pull and hurt him. Once I was done running the conditioner through his hair, I rinsed it all out.

“Alright, I'm gonna give your jacket a wash. I’m sure you can handle the rest from here” I said. Standing from the bathroom floor, I moved to the door.

Before I stepped down the stairs I went to check on Paul, he was on my bed, towel still low on his hips as he read one of the comics Marko had earlier. He’d turned the rock music on my radio higher, seeming comfortable

I carefully made my way down the stairs with the rest of Markos clothes in my arms. I walked into the kitchen, putting his jeans and shirt in the washing machine and setting it away along with Paul's clothes. The sloshing sound of the washer filling with water engulfed the silent kitchen. Grabbing Marko’s jacket, I filled the sink with cold water and detergent then began gently scrubbing at the blood stains, carefully, so as to not ruin it. I hummed a random song I had heard from the radio earlier as I worked away to rid the jacket of all the blood soaking it.

I stiffened as a pair of cold hands made their way round my waist.

“What you doing down here all by yourself?” Paul hummed huskily in my ear as his hand made its way under my shirt.

“Ah! Paul baby, your hands are freezing” I squealed, trying to squirm away from him.

“Well, you can help me warm them up” He mumbled against my skin. Paul started to drag his lips slowly down my neck until he reached the junction where my neck met my shoulders. I hummed at the feeling of his soft lips on the crook of my neck, the sensation sending shockwaves through my body.

“I heard you and Marko in the bathroom” He whispered as he began kissing and nibbling back up my neck to my ear, causing me to let out a low huffy breath. “We love you too” he said as he pulled away, causing my hairs to stand on end.

Groaning at the loss of one of my vampire boyfriends body on mine, I turned to see his face lit up with a devilish smirk.

“Come on, Marks waiting” He informed, deciding I could finish washing markos jacket later. I dried my hands on a dish towel before following Paul up the stairs to my room.

As I entered the room I was met with the sight of Marko drying his hair with the spare towel I had given him earlier.

“Hey baby” He said joyfully with a smile. I chuckled at his joy. Paul had once again wrapped himself around me as he swayed to the rock music on the radio. He would occasionally place kisses along my neck.

Marko soon made his way over to us both. He placed one of his hands on my hips as he brought the other to my cheek to pull me into a passionate kiss.

The feeling of Marko’s lips on mine mixed with the feeling of Paul’s nibbling kisses and occasionally licking my neck made my head spin.

“Boys” I groaned at there attack as I pulled away from Marko for air, leaning my head back.

This only allowed the pair to continue their attack. Marko dove in, attaching his lips to the underside of my jaw.

Paul pulled away giggling. “Aww, look Marko, we have them melting” Paul teased, causing the other boy to pull away with a smile.

“You boys are the worst”. I groaned at the loss of their touch.

“You sure about that sugar?” Paul said as he tilted my chin to pull me into a passionate kiss. Marko trailed his cold hands from my hips up my stomach, the feeling of his cold fingertips trailing up my chest sent shivers down my spine, causing me to let out a moan into the kiss with paul.

Marko continued his path, his cold hand grabbed my chest with a dark chuckle. “Your heart is beating so fast baby. Do we really get you going that bad?” He said as he lifted my shirt and kissed my hip before he made his way up my stomach. The feeling of his soft breathing on my skin made my stomach muscles tense. It felt like the most heavenly torture.

He pulled away, making me internally groan. “You made them all whiney” Paul cooed in mock sympathy, causing Marko to giggle as he pulled my shirt off.

His nails gently dragged my hips closer to his face the cold tip of his nose hitting just above my hip made my body shiver in anticipation, Markos eye flitted up to mine then to pauls.

Paul's hand trailed up my chest his hand trailed up my chest to my his hands were soft as he moved my head slightly to the side and slowly licked up my neck before I felt the nipping feeling of his teeth dragging along the tender skin below my ear. Marko had pulled away from my hip his fingers digging under the hem of my jeans with a smirk “mmm hey paul do you think they are desperate enough” he rasped to the other vampire “nope” paul replied Marko breathily My room once filled with loud rock music was replaced by my own breathy wines and moans mixed with the raspy teasing giggles of Marko and paul they really did love teasing.

#the lost boys #the lost boys marko #the lost boys x reader #tlb 1987 #tlb x reader #tlb x you #tlb marko #marko the lost boys #marko x reader #marko x reader x paul #paul x marko #paul x reader #poly lost boys x reader #the lost boys fanfiction #slashers x reader

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sunkendreams · 2 months

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💳💳💳💳can I have some Marko please and thank you. Just pure playful, smutty goodness.

➾ pairing ; marko (tlb) x fem!reader.

FORMAT: drabble — requested.

WORD COUNT: 3.7K.

WARNINGS: SMUT (mdni), unprotected sex, p in v sex, bloodplay (he’s a vampire), rough sex, multiple positions (missionary & doggy), fingering (f!receiving), dirty talk, making out, biting, hair-pulling, scratching, marking, scent kink, marko is pretty rough & greedy, clothes ripping, cumplay, groping, marko is italian, implied marko/reader/paul relationship, risk of getting caught, possessive & obsessive behavior from marko, his slutty crop top is hot to me

AUTHOR’S NOTES: literally having some insane lost boys brainrot rn ,,, working on some more threesomes and just paul content (love him to death ngl), also !! adding more new characters to the muse list aaaaaand gonna try to focus on horny drabbles. just filth, no thoughts ❤️ love you all and thanks so much for your support!

The sharp, stinging scent of copper fills your nostrils, heavy in your lungs, burning away your senses with every breath. You still aren’t fully accustomed to the smell — it’s vitriolic, visceral with every breath that you take, causing you to briefly press your palm against your face.

Golden irises rake over you over the twitching corpse in the sand, appraising your state of wellbeing. Someone had gotten too handsy, too invasive in your space — and that was always enough to spell doom in the eyes of a very territorial vampire.

Despite Marko’s stature, his appetite dwarfed that of his brothers — twice as insatiable, twice as violent.

His tongue lashed across his lips, pearlescent fangs entrenched in crimson, soon to be lapped clean as he wiped off his mouth with the back of his hand. It’s just you and him on some stretch of beach, just out of-sight of the boardwalk.

Marko’s idea of an enjoyable night is hunting and fucking — in no particular order. Paul finally relinquished some of his possessiveness and allowed him to ‘take you out’, which wasn’t entirely subtle. You agreed, of course — Marko was exhilarating in the best of ways.

“Didn’t like the way he looked at you,” Marko confessed, dragging the pad of his thumb across the corner of his mouth. His mane of golden curls billowed with the oceanside breeze, body glittering in specks of red. “He was a little stale.”

To you, blood is blood — but to vampires, it has a certain taste depending on the individual, a particular viscosity and aftertaste. Marko had amusingly compared it to wine — the age, ingredients, and bouquet, an amalgamation that made blood stale or sweet.

Your gaze flickered toward the now-lifeless corpse strewn about in the sand, a Surf-Nazi whose flesh is stone-cold and pale, devoid of lifeblood. “He did reek of something awful.” You replied, stepping away from the body and toward his motorcycle, instead.

“It didn’t ruin the mood, did it?” Marko inquired, calmly stepping over his dinner as he sauntered toward you, hand grasping at your hip. Sometimes, he had a horrible habit of getting carried away with feeding, and it veered off into an adrenaline rush or lust.

“Not in the slightest.” You mused, shaking your head as you swiped away a smear of blood from his chin. Before you could pull your hand away, he snagged your thumb between his teeth, lips curling into a smirk as he sucked the digit clean of any cruor.

An excitable sigh hitched within the bottom of your throat, eyes glued to the sight of his pretty lips wrapped around your finger. His fangs scraped across your flesh, teasing you with a feather-light touch.

Beneath the cherubic features and angelic facade that was Marko, he was a demon — in the best ways, of course. His halo was steeped in blood, crooked atop his mountain of soft, golden curls. His stare was incendiary, twisted together with lust and adoration.

“Should we go back home?” You inquired, voice soft and barely above a whisper. The rest of the pack were out hunting for the foreseeable future — which meant that the cavern would be left for you two.

Marko smirked, dropping your thumb from his maw before he coaxed you in for a kiss, open-mouthed and fueled by a blistering desire. A simpering moan escaped you, feeling his tongue greedily invade your mouth, hands grasping at your hips.

The kiss was more than enough to stoke a fire within your belly, one that demanded to be extinguished. A pang of honey-sweet arousal struck between your thighs, a scent that Marko could detect from miles away.

When he withdrew, those pretty eyes of his flickered toward your stomach, sluggishly tracing your form again until he met your doe-like stare. “If that’s what you want,” Marko clicked his tongue, fingers slinking toward the pliant flesh of your thigh. “You’re beautiful.”

It was exactly what you wanted — time alone with him. You flourished underneath his compliment, spoken through his forked tongue and sweet tone of voice. “I just want you,” You uttered, gasping when he nipped at your jaw. “Wherever that is.”

Admittedly, Marko found some sentiment in that.

Love was a complex ideal to vampires, especially the boys, who’d known nothing but carnage and survival, many decades of self-preservation. People were simply playthings, food — for him to hold some affection for you, a human, was a daunting notion.

He released you from his grasp, gesturing toward the bike with a nod of his head. “I’ll be patient.” Marko murmured, swinging his leg over as he settled onto his bike, feeling you clamor in behind him.

You wrapped your arms around his abdomen, digits idly toying with the hem of his crop-top, able to feel the taut musculature underneath. It drove him crazy every time you rode with him. Judging from the way he sat, rigid and poised, it must’ve had some effect on him.

As the motorcycle roared to life, Marko unceremoniously spun the vehicle around, causing a spray of sand to fly in the other direction. He sped off onto the stretch of beach, making for the cave at dangerous speeds. The cool, oceanic breeze swept over you, tinged with the sting of alkaline.

Snug against him, your digits continued to drift underneath his clothing, icy muscle flush against the warmth of your fingertips. He shot you a look from over his shoulder, incendiary and shadowed — a warning, more than likely.

Feigning innocence, you simply forced a cheeky smile, noticing the way his body shook with a huff of laughter. He invaded your mind, perusing through your thoughts like the pages of an open book.

“Careful, dolcezza.” Marko crooned, issuing yet another warning — it wasn’t as subtle as the last. As you crept into newfound territory, toying with your vampiric paramour, you had a feeling that you were in for it once you reached the cave.

Something warm blossomed within your chest, a familiar heat that simmered with desire. Arousal pooled between your legs as he narrowly guided the bike away from a cluster of trees, grinning like a shark when he noted the little flicker of nervousness on your face.

It was adrenaline intermingled with a twinge of fear, enough to produce a unique pheromone that Marko caught a whiff of. He revved the motorcycle, pushing down on the gas pedal for a boost of speed, wind whipping throughout your hair.

A pale, silvery moon hung overhead, turning those golden curls to a shade of platinum. Marko whooped and howled, leaving behind a trail of disturbed sand in his wake, guiding the bike over a hill and fallen log.

Your fingers clutched onto him, cheek pressed against the back of his shoulder. The exhilaration of it all made your pulse quicken, excitement climbing to new levels. Marko’s cajoling laughter filled the air, the motorcycle gliding down a dirt path toward the beach.

The cave sat soundly beside the ocean, shrouded by a shadowy chasm and plenty of debris. The rest of the bikes were missing, much to Marko’s delight. As he hit the kickstand on his bike, you stepped off, letting out a strangled gasp when he grabbed your waist.

Without warning, he hoisted you into the air, snickering and teasing you with bouts of laughter as he flew into the cave, taking you right into his nest.

“Marko!” You squealed, feeling your back hit the mattress with a rather unceremonious thud, the wind being ripped from your lungs. His grin remained, pearlescent and glittering as he perched at the foot of the bed, teeth catching on the leather of his glove.

“We’re all alone,” Marko mused, and began to slink closer, abandoning his roost. He nipped at your jaw and lower lip, teeth delightfully close to your jugular. Your flesh felt velvety beneath his palms, belonging to him for the evening, much to his satisfaction. “What am I going to do with you?”

The scent of your arousal flooded his senses, throat beginning to ache with a dull throbbing. He absentmindedly licked his lower lip, hazel hues narrowing slightly as he looked you over as one would a delicious meal, but it morphed into something else.

Something more than that.

Part of him would always view you as a meal, as his thrall, his fragile little human — but the other found affection, a twinge of love that steadily grew into something possessive and obsessive. Marko understood why Paul was so crazy about you, why he worshiped the ground that you walked on.

It was the way you looked at him — smitten and enamored, as if you hadn’t seen something so beautiful before. While he enjoyed the fear, savored your nervousness, this was something else entirely.

“You’re perfect,” You exhaled, visibly charmed by his very presence, by the way he carried himself. Marko reminded you of a Greek sculpture, cold and crafted of an impenetrable marble — beautiful and stoic. Yet, he was devious, the devil disguised as an angel. “Pretty.”

Marko hummed, hands unabashedly roaming underneath your dress, groping at your breasts. “Aren’t you sweet?” He purred, listening to the erratic beating of your heart, nose skirting along your jawline as he inhaled a gust of your saccharine scent.

Your fingers reached for the nape of his neck, perusing through his golden curls as he pushed himself in between your legs. His hand hastily snuck towards the cleft between your thighs, seeking out that familiar heat as he swept his digits over your clothed cunt.

“Marko!” You whimpered, practically writhing underneath him as he dipped his fingers beneath your panties, gliding through your slick slit. He wound his fist into the thin material, shredding it apart with a brusque tug. His sneer made you flustered, shrinking underneath his stare.

“Want me to make you feel good?” He uttered, digits prodding at your cunt with a feather-light touch, enough to drive you insane. “Use your words.” Marko insisted, feeling your hands claw at his patchwork jacket. Your mind was a pool of crass thoughts, interwoven with your own embarrassment.

“Yes,” You blubbered, tugging on his curls with a sense of urgency. “Please, Marko, I — I want you!” His snickering and playful smile caused butterflies to erupt within the pit of your stomach, breath hitching as he shrugged his jacket aside. He peeled away those leather gloves, touching you with smooth, icy palms.

As soon as his mouth met yours, you reciprocated with a flurry of passion, scatterbrained and drunk with desire. His lips felt plush against yours, kiss turning sloppy as his teeth scraped across your lower lip. A gasp escaped you as you listened to the sound of fabric tearing.

Marko ripped your dress, uncouth and showing disinterest in the garment altogether. Your brassiere was next, but you were able to save it from an unfortunate fate, letting it join his jacket instead. His lips roamed over your chest, biting at your breasts, your sternum, littering you in lovebites.

He murmured something in Italian — something indiscernible, but it sounded pretty nonetheless. You felt something sharp just above your breast, the intrusion of fangs as Marko took a bite, enough to satiate. He licked his lower lip, lapping at the crescent-shaped indent before he kissed you again.

Much to your delight, his hand returned to the molten heat between your thighs, digits roaming along your slit before he pushed them forward. You shuddered, legs forced apart by his body as he deliberately stroked at your cunt, thumb teasing your clit.

The coppery twang of blood stained his tongue, which happened to collide with yours. Every kiss ripped away a wisp of air from your lungs, body prickling with an electric pleasure. Marko’s fingers found your entrance, easing themselves inside of you.

“You’re so beautiful like this,” Marko uttered, his gaze wrought with a lust-warped intimacy. You shrank underneath his oppressive stare, heart thudding beneath your collarbone. “My thrall.” He watched the way your countenance blossomed into a vision of pure ecstasy.

Your hips twitched, jolting and rolling into the sensation of his fingers. He found a pleasurable rhythm, easing his digits in and out of your tight cunt. Your hand moved underneath his crop-top, reveling in the feeling of sinewy muscle underneath.

“Take this off,” You moaned, tugging at the tattered fabric with a sense of insistence. “Please, Marko.” Your voice tapered off into a whine when he curled his fingers ever so slightly, thumb grazing your clit yet again.

With a bemused huff, he obeyed, treating you to the charming sight of his lean musculature. His flesh was cold to the touch, impenetrable and sturdy like marble, somewhat sunkissed. Paul was pretty in a different way — wild, untamed, and unapologetically himself.

Marko reminded you of a sculpture, a cherub with a carefully-concocted veil — tear it aside, and you would find a rather beautiful demon. He stared at you with a strange intensity, savoring the way your nails dug into his bicep.

Candlelight danced across his skin, producing an attractive shade of orange that only made him look painfully perfect. He smirked when you bucked forward, chasing after his fingers — he cruelly let them drift away, only for you to let out a disgruntled whine.

He showered you in a barrage of rough bites and hickeys, letting them trail from your neck to collarbone, something noticeable. They were right alongside Paul’s — though, most of his were all around your breasts.

With another careful pistoning of his digits, Marko withdrew his fingers from your slick core, crudely sucking them free of your nectar. You tasted divine, a taste that he’d begun to crave. His hand moved toward the fly of his jeans and chaps.

Marko occasionally entertained you with foreplay — that was more Paul’s forte than anything else. The curly-headed leech was much more absorbed in fucking you until you were a sobbing mess, and that was what he intended on doing.

“Don’t be quiet,” Marko crooned, grinning like the cat who’d just caught the canary. The doe-eyed, mesmerized look you gave him was enough to make him pause for a moment, letting the intimacy crackle between the both of you. He kissed you, feeling your arms loop underneath his. “Sweet little human.”

There was something unusually attractive about Marko referring to you as that — he had all the power. Knowing that he possessed the ability to rip you open and chose not to added some amorous layer to your relationship.

His cock pushed against your cunt, and he let himself linger there until you were moaning, desperately pushing your hips forward. His soft, cajoling giggle made you involuntarily smile, but it dissipated as soon as he fucked his way inside of you.

Marko huffed, savoring the stinging sensation of your nails digging into his shoulder blades, knees squeezing at his narrow nips. “Marko,” You whimpered, knowing that he didn’t have the intention of being gentle. “I need you.” You sighed with passion.

His initial thrusts were erratic and desperate, not soft or coddling. Marko wanted to find a rhythm that worked for him, and not you. Roughness and brutality were the only ways he knew how, evident in the way he began to move into you. His cock slammed away at your sensitive cunt, feeling you clench and shake around him.

A blistering heat consumed you, coursing throughout your body like a tidal wave. It was beyond pleasant, white-hot and visceral as Marko wasted no time in picking up his pace. A low growl resonated from the back of his throat, cock battering away at your cunt.

You felt his hand spread your legs apart, hips brushing against yours as he rutted into you. Your fingers left scratches behind on his back, angry-red with little pearls of crimson. The way Marko obliterated you was borderline godly — a stark juxtaposition to the vampire himself.

Despite the roughness of it all, there was an intimacy to be found within it, a deep obsession that Marko felt for you. His face moved toward your neck, lips peppering messy kisses wherever he could.

A cacophony of lewd noises filled the cavern, accompanied by your string of pleasured moans and needy whimpers. “Marko!” You cried, unabashed as you yelped into the abyss of the cave.

When he pounded into you with the force of a battering ram, you swore you saw the heavens themselves, lips agape as you clawed at his musculature. Marko didn’t care whatsoever — in fact, it only added fuel to the fire as he nipped at any inch of available flesh.

“I’m close.” You panted, listening to the sounds of his heavy huffs and soft grunts. You were ensnared, trapped between his insatiable jaws. Clamoring forward, you attempted to kiss him, only to be met with a flurry of dizzying desire and teeth.

Marko’s lips curled into a grin, scent of your arousal stinging his senses again. It turned him into some feral animal, fueled by the primal need to rut. You savored this, drunk on his passion and ferocity. You felt his mouth press along your jaw; wherever he could reach.

You threatened to tear Marko asunder, digging into his flesh with such force that a human would find it painful. Thankfully, your paramour was supernatural — he was indomitable. Your throat burned from the constant barrage of sound that escaped you, lips swollen from the flurry of kisses.

He brusquely pulled himself out of you, cock oozing with beads of precum as he grabbed at your hips. “Just a little more, dolcezza.” Marko murmured, biting at your shoulder as he put you down onto all fours, bringing you right back against him.

You gasped, choking on air as he pounded back into you, cock hitting new depths as he hunched in close. You could feel his hand tangling into your hair, breath fanning out across your back.

A series of desperate whines left you, face buried near the pillows as Marko fucked you through your orgasm. That familiar rush of white-hot pleasure made you feel as if you were floating, hot and heavy between your thighs. Your stomach churned with molten heat, flesh crawling with fire.

You felt like you were going to collapse, carried away within the sea of ecstasy. Marko didn’t stop for anything, his pace voracious as he consumed you completely, cock buried deep inside of you — as far as it would go. His core felt tight, body snug against yours.

Marko’s grasp on your hips was ironclad, hard enough to leave behind imprint-shaped bruises. His chest erupted with a grunt, his noises subtle compared to your symphony of delight. You shuddered, body spasmodic in the wake of your release.

“Good girl.” Marko purred, finding amusement in the way you attempted to push your thighs together. He began to rut into you again, the intensity climbing to new heights before he pulled out, painting your back in ropes of sticky seed. That was his favorite.

He used the torn remnants of your dress to clean you up, pressing a string of kisses along your spine as you settled back down, body quivering. Marko was more than happy to gather you into his arms, smirking all the while as he pressed a kiss against your brow.

“I’m sorry for scratching you,” You mumbled, visibly sheepish when you noticed the marks you’d left behind. It wasn’t pretty — his cruor was drying underneath your fingernails. “I got carried away.”

Marko giggled, head canting to one side. “Apologizing for scratching the vampire,” He clicked his tongue, absentmindedly biting at the corner of his thumb before he cupped your chin. “You know how much I like it.” He reminded you, tracing your lower lip with the pad of his finger.

A sigh of relief escaped you, body damp with a layer of dewy perspiration. “So does Paul.” Paul enjoyed it when you choked him, too. Sometimes you worried you’d hurt them — even if it was an outlandish thought.

“He does love it,” Paul’s voice reverberated from the makeshift doorway, coat splattered in fresh bloodstains. Even his chin carried faint remnants of crimson, but his grin was more present than ever. “Are you gonna make it happen?” He asked.

You gawked at your mate, but Marko had some sly expression on his face. “Maybe when she’s done resting from us.” Marko interjected, careening into the sensation of your fingers perusing through his curls.

Paul huffed, letting out a soft ‘pfft’. “As long as you don’t break what’s mine, bud.” He mused, and sauntered away from the nest, leaving you and Marko alone once more. Much to Marko’s delight, you leaned into him, feeling his teeth snag along your jaw once more.

“I might break you,” Marko uttered, lips ghosting above the shell of your ear as his hand snuck in between your legs. You shivered, unable to bite back the throaty whimper that left you. “Just a little bit.”

#slasher x reader #slasher x you #the lost boys x reader #the lost boys x you #marko tlb x reader #marko tlb x you #tlb marko #tlb marko x reader #the lost boys #the lost boys fanfiction #slasher fanfiction #slasher fanfic #slasher fandom #slasher x y/n

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thelostboysthings · 9 months

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David and Marko 😍

#80s films #80s movies #i love the 80s #the lost boys 1987 #the lost boys #the lost boys david #the lost boys marko #tlb david #tlb marko #kiefer sutherland #alex winter

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luv4fandoms · 4 months

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Pop rocks (Marko x Reader)

This drabble was based off of this post by @walmart-cereal . But I saw it while traveling and couldn't help but write this, I'm writing this while in the car so that's why it's so short though lol

Pairing: Marko x Reader

Word count: 395

Warnings: None

⚠️ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐈 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐠𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐲𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐨 𝐜𝐨𝐩𝐲 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐩𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐬, 𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐢𝐭𝐬 𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐬, 𝐭𝐨 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐦 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐮𝐥𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐞.⚠️

Ko-Fi

“It's about time you made it!” Paul's voice cut through the buzz of the boardwalk.

“Sorry, I had to get ready and actually get here” you laughed while making your way to the group.

“We could have picked you up,” Marko stated, leaning back on his bike.

“And don't say you didn't want to burden anyone” he cut in when you opened your mouth, causing you to close it.

“Well I'm here now, so what is the plan?” You asked as they all dismounted their bikes.

“Look for dinner,” David spoke.

“Have fun along the way” Paul smiled, slinging his arm around your shoulder, looking behind him before his arm fell and he rummaged in his jacket for a cigarette, but your shoulder didn't stay empty for long as Marko stepped up on the other side of you and wrapped his arm around your shoulder, pulling you closer. You didn't see the looks that the others shot him, or the one he shot in return as he guided you down the boardwalk.

🦇🦇🦇🦇

“See that wasn't so bad”

“No it wasn't, but I'm not going on it again Paul” you told him as you and him stared at the rollercoaster from where you sat in front of the little shop. The others were still inside “buying” things like cigarettes and drinks, you were about to say something else when suddenly you heard a crackling and popping right next to your ear. Jerking back, you turned to see Marko standing there with a grin.

“What the freak?” You laughed

“Pop rocks”

“And you felt the need to activate them right next to my ear?”

“Where else?” He laughed, before tilting the small pouch towards you.

“Want some?”

“Sure” you smiled, holding out your hand and letting him pour some into your palm before dumping them into your mouth, letting the candy activate. You and Marko sat down at the small bench, watching for his nightly meal while enjoying the candy. You didn't see the shocked expression of Paul, or the knowing looks that Dwayne and David were sending the two of you.

“He never shares with me” Paul whined.

“He never shares with anyone” Dwayne stated

“We aren't Y/N” David nodded, watching as Marko put his arm on the back of the bench behind you, giving you some more candy while the two of you smiled.

#the lost boys #tlb #the lost boys 1987 #tlb 1987 #marko tlb #marko the lost boys #marko x reader #tlb marko x reader #tlb marko #marko tlb fanfiction #tlb marko fanfiction #tlb marko one shot #tlb marko drabble

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spidercookie18 · 5 months

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#sorry not sorry #the lost boys #the lost boys 1987 #tlb #tlb 1987 #tlb david #tlb marko #tlb dwayne #tlb paul #david the lost boys #marko the lost boys #dwayne the lost boys #paul the lost boys #memes

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ponomar23 · 8 months

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Pieces of all sorts of things with boys ;D

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hypocriticaltypwriter · 8 days

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𝕷𝖎𝖙𝖙𝖑𝖊 𝕾𝖎𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗, 𝖂𝖍𝖆𝖙 𝕳𝖆𝖛𝖊 𝖄𝖔𝖚 𝕯𝖔𝖓𝖊? 𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝑳𝒐𝒔𝒕 𝑩𝒐𝒚𝒔 𝑾𝒉𝒊𝒕𝒆 𝑾𝒆𝒅𝒅𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝑨𝑼

𝑪𝒉𝒂𝒓𝒂𝒄𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒔: 𝑴𝒊𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒆𝒍 𝑬𝒎𝒆𝒓𝒔𝒐𝒏.

𝑺𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚: 𝑴𝒊𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒆𝒍 𝒉𝒂𝒔 𝒕𝒐 𝒐𝒇𝒇𝒆𝒓 𝒂𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓 𝒔𝒂𝒄𝒓𝒊𝒇𝒊𝒄𝒆 𝒕𝒐 𝑺𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒂 𝑪𝒂𝒓𝒍𝒂'𝒔 𝒃𝒆𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒔 𝒕𝒐 𝒔𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒂𝒕𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒎 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒂𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓 𝒎𝒐𝒏𝒕𝒉... 𝑩𝒖𝒕 𝒏𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕 𝒂𝒇𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝒎𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒚 𝒈𝒓𝒐𝒘 𝒓𝒆𝒔𝒕𝒍𝒆𝒔𝒔 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒓𝒆𝒇𝒖𝒔𝒆 𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒐𝒇𝒇𝒆𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔. 𝑷𝒆𝒐𝒑𝒍𝒆 𝒊𝒏 𝑺𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒂 𝑪𝒂𝒓𝒍𝒂 𝒂𝒓𝒆 𝒈𝒐𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒎𝒊𝒔𝒔𝒊𝒏𝒈, 𝒃𝒐𝒅𝒊𝒆𝒔 𝒂𝒓𝒆 𝒃𝒆𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒇𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒅, 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒕𝒐𝒘𝒏 𝒊𝒔 𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒓𝒊𝒇𝒊𝒆𝒅, 𝒍𝒆𝒂𝒗𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒉𝒊𝒎 𝒄𝒐𝒏𝒇𝒖𝒔𝒆𝒅 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒇𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒇𝒖𝒍 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒘𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒘𝒊𝒍𝒍 𝒉𝒂𝒑𝒑𝒆𝒏 𝒕𝒐 𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒇𝒂𝒎𝒊𝒍𝒚 𝒊𝒏 𝒉𝒐𝒎𝒆 𝒊𝒇 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒄𝒐𝒏𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒖𝒆𝒔...

𝑵𝒐𝒕𝒆𝒔: 𝑯𝑬𝑹𝑬𝑺 𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑭𝑰𝑹𝑺𝑻 𝑪𝑯𝑨𝑷𝑻𝑬𝑹 𝑳𝑶𝑽𝑬𝑳𝑰𝑬𝑺!! 𝑰'𝒎 𝒔𝒐 𝒆𝒙𝒄𝒊𝒕𝒆𝒅 𝒕𝒐 𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒓 𝒘𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒂𝒍𝒍 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒌, 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝑰'𝒎 𝒑𝒖𝒎𝒑𝒆𝒅 𝒕𝒐 𝒔𝒕𝒂𝒓𝒕 𝒈𝒆𝒕𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒎𝒐𝒓𝒆 𝒐𝒇 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒇𝒊𝒄 𝒐𝒖𝒕!

𝑻𝒂𝒈𝒔: [𝑵𝒐𝒏𝒆 𝒚𝒆𝒕! 𝑪𝒐𝒎𝒎𝒆𝒏𝒕 𝒊𝒇 𝒚𝒐𝒖'𝒅 𝒍𝒊𝒌𝒆 𝒕𝒐 𝒃𝒆 𝒂𝒅𝒅𝒆𝒅 𝒕𝒐 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒕𝒂𝒈 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒚 𝒏𝒆𝒘 𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒑𝒕𝒆𝒓!]

𝑾𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔: 𝒗𝒊𝒐𝒍𝒆𝒏𝒄𝒆, 𝒃𝒍𝒐𝒐𝒅, 𝒈𝒐𝒓𝒆, 𝒑𝒂𝒏𝒊𝒄 𝒂𝒕𝒕𝒂𝒄𝒌, 𝒓𝒆𝒍𝒊𝒈𝒊𝒐𝒖𝒔 𝒃𝒆𝒍𝒊𝒆𝒇𝒔 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒈𝒖𝒊𝒍𝒕, 𝒈𝒓𝒂𝒗𝒆 𝒓𝒐𝒃𝒃𝒊𝒏𝒈, 𝒅𝒆𝒂𝒅 ��𝒐𝒅𝒊𝒆𝒔, 𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒗𝒚 𝒆𝒍𝒆𝒎𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒔.

“Forgive me.”

He uttered the word with each weak breath that left his lips and into the chill air of the night. He whispered it with every foot forward into the large hole he dug, whenever his grandfathers rusted shovel gathered the moist dirt and damp grass which would be swiftly casted over his shoulder following the rest of the gathering earth.

“Forgive me.”

His sweaty hands gripped firmly onto the wood handle of the shovel, his hold so tight his knuckles grew white as the moon staring that stared down on him, judging him for his actions, weeping stars as if to ask what he has done, what has he done to do this, to violate such a peaceful ground, to step foot into this yard and prey on the vulnerable, who spent their lives fighting, only now to rest?

“Forgive me.”

Michael repeated, his body cold, and yet perspiration seeped from his skin, running down his sharp jaw as he relentlessly worked at digging up the freshly buried grave before him, his arms sore and aching, but he refused to stop, for he knew it was the least he could handle as a punishment for his actions. The end of the shovel halted, the sound of wood splintering at its jagged edge making his rapid movements stop, pulling it away to see the engraved edges of a coffin creeping through the dirt, the beautifully hand-crafted work now ruined by the edge of his shovel.

He fell to his knees, trembling, splintered hands clawing and digging at the thin layer of soil hiding the elegant casket holding it’s treasure inside. His hands matched his heart and soul, dirty. Filthy. Ridden in waste and muck. Digging into the creases and crevices of his purity like the soil that stains his fingertips and buries beneath his fingernails. His hands wiped away the mud from the engraved cross, stray gems planted into it, the moon striking it at a point they seemed to glow. It felt almost like it was stinging his eyes.

He quickly got to his feet again, looking around him to find a crowbar he had brought alongside his equipment. Grasping it with slippery hands as firm as he could, he readied to stab it into the golden hinges and lock keeping him from getting what he needed inside.

“Forgive me.”

He closed his eyes as he carried his strength into the swing of plunging the crowbar into the side of the casket, the sound of wood cracking and hinges weakening, trying desperately to keep it shut, crying out for him to stop. Michael was a very strong boy, and yet even now he found his strength failing to help him carry out his deeds. He gave a grunt as he ripped it out of it’s first location, carefully gliding its curved edge lover, aiming at another lock, and taking one final, and hopeful swing.

On nights like these, he would’ve requested his younger brother to follow and aid him, like the many other nights of carrying out their monthly duty. But tonight was different, just like the many nights he had told his brother that when he asked to help him. It was different. It was dangerous. They were dangerous.

They were growing restless. Impatient. Impatient for what? Michael did not know. He merely knew that the risks of taking his brother with him anymore was something he couldn’t bear to imagine. So, much like his heart and soul, he was alone tonight.

He pushed and pulled with his might, teeth gritted hard enough his jaw grew tense and formed and ached. The casket broke open, revealing the inside. He’d never grow use to the sickening feeling that pooled in his guts, seeing the peaceful, resting face of a human being, now fallen into eternal slumber.

Her name was Patience Willows. A poor, young creature, who had fallen into illness she fought so hard against, but ultimately failed. She was a sweet girl, with a loving family and good friends, and betrothed to a man who was just as hopeless for her as she was for him. Her fair skin, and pale hair stood out under the moon, her black gowns she was buried in contrasted to how lively she seemed to be, the bouquet of orchids and roses, wilting away in her clasped hands, tangled in the beads of rosaries and the small cross hanging from the end nestled atop her stomach.

Michael’s hands came up to her face. Cold to the touch. Like ice on his flesh her face unmoving like stone, as if sculptors carved her body, and she was merely made of the finest marble. But she was a girl. A human, and innocent young woman, taken too soon. Even graceful in death as she was living.

And he had to take that away from her. He had to take it away from her family.

“Sweet Patience. Sweet, sister Patience.” He spoke as if he’d expect a reply, as if her big dark eyes would open again to the sound of his voice. “Forgive me for what I must now do with your mortal body…” Michael’s voice was barely above a whisper, his trembling hands left her face, one moved beneath her back, and the other the back of her legs, ripping her body away from its casket and into the night air where he stood tall, holding her like a sleeping maiden. Her head fell back, her arm falling from its gently clasped pose, and limped at her side. Her gowns and hair blew in the chill breeze, the sight was almost haunting.

Michael’s heart ached, he could feel it pound in his chest and wished for him to end this. But he couldn’t. There was no other way. He was beginning to grow desperate, finding every fresh body he possibly could, anything that seemed tempting or tantalizing enough to catch their eye and keep their attention long enough before they grew restless again. But he was beginning to grasp the straws the longer time began to go on. This was his last hope to keep his family and the town of Santa Carla safe.

He trudged through the forests of his family grounds, the settled grass and astray rotting logs pushed away from the path he had spend years creating took him deeper and deeper into the woods. The creeping vines and branches tugging and pried at his holy robes, like teasing fingers and wandering hands, the leaves and grass brushing around him sounding like hisses and whispers. The deep thickets pulled and tore at the gentle fabric of Patience gown, her beautiful resting garments now ruined and made imperfect. It only made Michael’s heart hurt further with sympathy.

The longer he walked, the more the space began to clear, the moon now crept through casting shadows across the trees, and the grass began to shorten. Thorned vines caught on his boots, always overgrowing the path he had created. No matter how many times he’d pull them out, it seemed they merely grew back every night.

Roses sprouted around them light weeds, deep blood reds, and the purest white buds all around, replacing the bushes and trees once hiding him from the moon and the stars shameful stare. The thorned vines and roses wrapped around everything like snakes, choking away like and growing over the ancient stone and ruins Michael was walking to. The closer he got, the more dreadful he felt. It was like the place carried the same evil of the ones who resided in it- yet it could have been the most holiest grounds decades ago, and now it was left to time and darkness to swallow it whole.

The ruins of this Chapel were very large, even if it hadn’t seemed that way from the outside or whatever angle you might have stumbled across it with fate in mind. So much so it was almost like once you walked in, you could never find you way out. Michael was walking toward the back of it, the caved in roofs and broken foundation greeting him routinely night after night. His chest heaved with exhaustion, his arms were throbbing, his legs were burning, the body in his arms felt too heavy to keep going, but he continued. The only thing keeping him going was the thought of his family, waiting for him at home. His mother sleeping soundly by now, and his Grandfather, if not doing the same, was awake busying himself with the strange taxidermy residing in their home and even the Church they ran. And Sam, his dearest brother Sam, he only hoped he wasn’t awake, waiting for him, worried about him. He hoped his brother was sleeping well, not wasting good hours on a brother who had trapped him in such a life he was to live now.

“Lord Jesus,” Michael’s voice trembled, taking each step up the ruined, cracked stares, the moon’s hateful light shining down atop the alter like a spotlight, reveled in display. “Son of God… Have mercy on me, a sinner.” He walked with slow, cautious steps, his footwork calculated, like a waltz, his boots echoing through the rubble stone.

“Wash me from my guilt with Your precious blood and cleanse me of my wrongdoings…” Patience heavy body left his arms, setting her atop the alter, his dirtied hands touching her fair face one final time, the cold feeling of her skin one he had felt many times before, and would forever feel as long as he breathed. “Create in me, a clean heart… Oh God,” He stepped away from her, backing away from the alter and down it’s steps, all the way till he couldn’t see her body put out on display under the moonlight, and even then, he couldn’t handle it, his eyes closing and turning his head away from a sight even imagining made him sick. “Forgive me from all my sins and take not Your Holy Spirit from me by Your mercies…”

The air grew cold, and he could feel the wind on the back of his neck. Wind blowing through the cracks of foundation sounded like whispers, he could hear voices in the trees, and laughs ring out in the halls. Shadows dance on the walls, tempting for him to open his eyes, but they remained shut, not daring to open and witness a sight that would claw through his eyes and carve it’s name on his mind to never forget.

“Forgive… And renew a right spirit within me. Amen.”

And just like that, it went silent. Too silent. The wind halted, and the forest and life within paused. The whispers ceased and it felt as if even Michael’s heart came to a stop for just a moment. His eyes fluttered open, slowly turning his head back up to the steps, only taking a few more just to peek up at the alter.

Patience’s body was gone.

Michael let out a breath he forgot he was even holding, a hand coming up to his head, wiping away the thick layer of sweat forming a residue on his forehead, his fingers tangling in his dark curls. His stomach turned, making him swallow thickly and audibly, shallow breathes leaving past his parted lips. It was done. It was over for those few, spare days. Those few spare, haunting days.

And then he heard it. Quiet at first, so much so he could have merely considered it his mind playing a trick on him and went his way, but Michael knew better. And it grew louder. It was laughter.

Not joyous, not happy or a warm laugh, it was cruel. It was mocking, taunting, and it slowly began to grow louder, and voices joined it, resonating along the walls and ringing through the ruins of the Chapel. Cackles and barking laughter that made Michael’s blood run cold as the sound fed through his ears and froze him from the inside. His hand left his side, reflexively coming to the cross that hung around his neck, nestled against his chest right where his heart was. He clutched the powerful silver in his hand, his fingers running slow circles into the vibrant colored stones embedded into it’s surface as if silently praying, but a prayer wasn’t on Michael’s mind the the moment.

The laughter ensued, louder and louder as though circling him, in the sky, beneath the cobblestone floors, behind him right in his ear or standing before him, yet there was no one to be seen- but he knew very well he wasn’t alone. Not here. And as if his thought were read, the laughter quickly began to silence, very, very slowly. Going silent for only a split second with a few chaste whispers exchanged, and the world slowly began to grow alive yet again in the dead of night.

Michael’s hand stayed firmly grasping his crucifix, feeling his fast heartbeat against his fingers as he took only a few more steps up the stares toward the alter, when he saw a body. The very same body that was lying there just minutes before. He just felt his fear rise the longer he stared at Patience body back on the surface where she was once an offering, now turned away.

Her dress ripped up, legs and arms full of cuts and claw marks. Her blouse was ripped open and her peeled away flesh on display. Her ribs cracked open, like it was a cage, revealing her now hollowed chest where a heart would be, now gone from her bosom with only the bloody remnants of her lungs as the crimson liquid wept from her body and down the pure white marble and stone of the alter, staining the steps, and the petals of roses and orchids stuck to her skin where blood had crept into every curve and crevice along her baren flesh creeped out.

A beautiful woman, a sweet creature, who’s looks reflected the beauty and pureness of her soul… Now mangled and violated in a gruesome slaughter, just for Michael’s eyes to see. He all but stumbled toward her, falling to his knees as he threw his arms over her body, his mind riddled with confusion and utter distraught, blue eyes wandering her face and finding himself unable to understand. Why?

The laughter quickly came back, but it wasn’t all around him now. Instead, it echoed from the seemingly large opening into the ground behind the alter, a cave. Going deep, deep, and down, down into darkness, you couldn’t even see your footing as you would descend into its cavern. The laughter, the voices called out to him, calling his name, and mocking him with snickers and cackles.

“I don’t understand…” He spoke genuinely, eyes dancing between Patience and the cavern below. “I don’t understand.” He asked once more, his voice raising. “What do you want from me?” His guilt, his fear, his confusion all of it was fogging his mind, making him frustrated. It made him angry. It made him enraged.

“WHAT DO YOU WANT FROM ME?!” He shouted, finding himself unable to handle any more of this cruel madness he was going out through, his voice ringing through the Chapel, echoing back to him and the fluttering sound of bats and disturbed birds followed. The laughter died down as well, but it wasn’t to put his mind at peace. It was to leave him yet again, another night with no answers to his plea.

“I’ve done everything you wanted… I’ve committed atrocities for you. I’ve hurt people, I’ve betrayed my family, my covenants… What more could you want of me?” He cried out, awaiting an answer. And with little hope left, it died out following the silence. He looked to his hands in defeat, now riddled in dirt and innocent blood. “What have I done..”

Silence. Only the quiet comforted him, succumbing him to accepting that he would spend the next month restless, with no answers, with more people getting hurt, with more families coming to his church pleading for prayers and blessings of safety from the beasts of Santa Carla. More missing posters around any wall surface in the town, more questions from his mother. He could barely handle it anymore. How, he was willing to do anything to get this madness to stop.

His heart felt heavy, and as body numb as he got to his feet, wiping the dirt and blood off his Holy robes as best he could, looking toward the disgusting sight of the body splayed out atop the alter, just like the many other past offerings these last few weeks. And like the many weeks before,

He began his walk back home. Dawn approaching, the sun creeping over the view of the boardwalk far, far into the distance...

#🦇🤍White Wedding AU🤍🦇#fruitbats🦇🍒#🍒daily dose of cherry🍒#the lost boys #the lost boys 1987 #tlb #tlb 1987 #the lost boys fanfiction #tlb david #tlb paul #tlb dwayne #tlb marko #tlb michael #michael emerson

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madnessr · 11 months

Text

Last Night Part Two

Poly Lost Boys + Michael x Reader

Synopsis: You still ponder what really killed you, the day you died or the day you lost your humanity. When the dawn becomes something you'll never see again, will you ever be able to accept your new nature?

Warning: Animal mutilation, blood, blood drinking, minor injuries, hurt/comfort, some angst, grinding, murder, corrupted representation of Christianity

Part One

Word Count: 10k

There will be no explicit or detailed smut because I wanted to keep this fic gender neutral! I'm sorry to anyone who expected some spicer scenes with our boys!

Your comments and reblogs mean the world to me and motivate me to keep writing! Please keep leaving them since I love to read them! This will be the final chapter in the"Last Night" series since I'm dying to write about something new. Let me know what you thought of this!

If you needed to explain how you were feeling, the best way to describe it would be in a state of constant panic. Your mind was throbbing, eyes catching onto everything, yet nothing simultaneously. You had become all too aware of the rising sun, the bright light blinding you. Planting a powerful migraine against your head. You couldn't breathe, you couldn't feel but felt everything at the same time. Heard nothing but could make sense of the squirrels hopping from branch to branch. You cried, utterly unaware of where you were. In that moment of panic, when that monster finally let you go. You didn't look back; you didn't stop until you felt like you had put enough distance between you and Santa Carla.

You sat somewhere in the forest, crawled against a tree as if the wide bark would somehow hide you as you wheezed for air. The moist soil underneath you tainted your pants, leaving you looking exactly how you felt. Some of your blood had soaked up into the top of your shirt, while the rest grew dry and uncomfortable against your skin.

Your body ached. Your teeth burned, and so did your hands. Glancing down, you nearly threw yourself back into despair at the sight of your sharp, nail-like claws. What happened to you? And most importantly, what were you now?

You couldn't help but wail, your knees pressed tightly against your chest as you wrapped your arms around yourself. As if you could protect yourself from whatever was happening, even though you knew how nonsensical that hope was. It still provided some comfort for you.

You had stayed in the position for hours, and although your sobbing was long replaced with tiredness, you tried staying awake. But something about the sun forced your eyes closed, and when you opened them once more, the sun was setting, and your throat burned. You groaned, sitting up from your lying position. You didn't know what to do; you couldn't return to Lucy's, especially if she had something to do with this. The thought made your stomach tie itself in knots, a sinking feeling nearly pressing you against the ground. How have you gotten yourself into this position?

How could anyone do this to you? Your fists balled at the thought, your sharp nails slicing into your palm. You slowly got up, stumbling around for a little. You could hear so much, could see more precisely than ever before. It gave you a massive headache; some part of you just wanted to curl up against the tree stump and wake up from this nightmare. But you couldn't, no matter how much that thought broke you. This was real; whatever was happening was real.

You stumbled aimlessly through the woods, trying to figure things out away from the rest of society. A part of you felt safe, knowing that he couldn't find you in the middle of nowhere. The sharp sound of a twig snapping pulled you out of your thoughts, predatory eyes instantly zeroing in on the location the sound originated from. The sound came from a bush, the leaves rustling as something clearly nudged and navigated through the shrubbery. You stood still, not trusting yourself. A peculiar itch, almost like a nervous tick, urged you towards the noise. Your hands craved for something, your teeth ached, and your throat felt dry. Your body screamed for something you didn't understand or refused to recognize.

Your breath caught in your throat as a small, brown bunny peeked out from the bushes. Its small button nose twitched as it sniffed and analyzed its surroundings. It's cheeks made the whiskers flick, small paws tapping the ground several times before dedicating the mossy floor save enough to hop on. You froze, that nagging urge growing into a raging protest. Before you could even hesitate to question the simple thought, you pounced. The small, high-pitched screech of the bunny brought tears to your eyes as you gripped it. Getting the small fluffy body to your mouth and biting into it. The tiny creature uttered another small cry before going silent, its previously kicking paws and legs halting before slowly sinking and stilling completely. But you didn't care; you couldn't, not when that god-awful nectar was pouring down your throat. Calming the fire, quenching your pain, all through the price of another.

You were messy, and the grip of your jaw was so fierce that you could hear several crunching of bones under your grip. You gulped up whatever you could, blood dripping out the corners of your mouth, trailing down your neck, and staining your shirt collar. You sucked until nothing came out of the poor bunny anymore, letting go and looking down at the life you just stole. Realization dawns on you like boulders, dropping the poor lifeless body and beginning to weep. You killed something; you killed that bunny. You felt hysterical, hands twisting themselves in your hair as you hyperventilated. The word monster takes the form of a mantra, marching to the beat of your racing heartbeat.

The burning in your throat died down but was quickly replaced by the aching of your heart. Mourning what you had done it took you nearly an hour to calm down. You had tried wiping and scrubbing off the blood on your body, most likely smudging and making your appearance much worse, but at the moment, all you wanted was that crimson color off of you. It stained, and you weren't sure if you could ever indeed wash it off. It didn't stain your skin, but your soul would bear this mark for eternity.

You gently shifted the bunny, starting to dig a small hole beside the bushes it hopped out from. Your appearance couldn't get any worse now, blood and dirt-stained clothes. Grimy hands, the dark soil stuck underneath your fingernails. When considering the hole deep enough to prevent any predator from digging up the carcass, gently lower the bunny, covering it with dirt and patting the ground flat afterward. You sat before the makeshift grave, not knowing what to think or feel. There was too much, and as you sat rooted to the ground, you tried figuring out what to do next. A small thought came to you: if anyone could help you now, at least give you refuge, it would be the church. Wasn't that their whole shtick? Providing aid and guidance in moments of doubt, because if that was the case, you'd be a perfect candidate for practicing their moral codes.

But you had spent nearly the entire day wallowing and mourning your old life, who you were, and fearing what the setting sun made you. No, showing up the way you were now, covered in blood, was a sure way to send a raging mob after you holding pitchforks and blazing torches. You needed to find shelter, hide out the night, and adequately recuperate. But you had no money, and you'd rather die than return to Lucy's home.

Was that why she had actually brought you here? The thought made your skin colder than it was, but an even worse thought crossed your mind. Twisting your heart in a brutal, vice-like grip. Did Michael know?

Time seemed to tick past you at that moment, the singing breeze creating a symphony of rustling bushes and leaves. It all moved through you, past you, like you weren't really there. You didn't want to breathe, think, or even consider that thought a possibility. Micheal had always been a lousy liar. Currently, that was the only knowledge you had to ground yourself. You tried to control your breathing, but with your rampaging thoughts and the subtle taste of copper in your mouth, you just couldn't. It wasn't that easy, and looking ahead simply felt too overwhelming for you. So, you took things step-by-step, figuring the first thing you could do was get out of this damned forest.

So, you began walking straight ahead following the setting sun. The orange hue occasionally broke through the thick foliage of branches and leaves. Cascading delicate beams of light onto the mossy floor, the beauty of the sight calmed you. It felt separate from the rest of the world, like a slight pause for you to soak up before returning to the never-resting society you belonged—or instead, used to belong to.

You couldn't tell how long you walked or where you were, but you knew you had finally made it when you saw the flash of car lights. The sun had finally died for the day, lessening your headache considerably. You finally made it to a gravel-like road, not having any official pavement but clearly hardened from car tires throughout the years. You watched as the car drove on, hoping to follow it to a more populated area. You let the path guide you. You had to be careful; the course contained so many depressions and holes in the ground you didn't want to accidentally twist your ankle. With your current streak of bad luck, you wouldn't put something so ridiculous above you. The longer you walked, the more you couldn't help but wonder how anyone could travel down this path in a car without getting incredibly motion sick.

However, when you finally saw a house in the upcoming clearing, you weren't greeted by the gradual introduction of neighborhood streets but instead a large farm. Fields and crops litter the area to your left, while pens are to your right. No doubt about yielding livestock. The area practically reeked of cows in the most unpleasant way imaginable. But you found yourself relieved; a farm like this wouldn't have the toughest surveillance to beat, if any, and you felt safer knowing that. You snuck around, keeping yourself hidden as you watched the farmer exit his truck and enter his home.

You could see so much clearer if the sun had never really set. You glanced around before you found a wooden barn on the south side of the field, rushing your way over and trying to pry the rusted doors open. It didn't work, at least it wouldn't if you didn't want to rip the door off its hinges. You walked around, seeing a broken window. Small, sharp jagged pieces of glass still stuck out here and there, but you managed to lift yourself through it. Not without a complimentary scratch, a low hiss escaped you as you glanced at your cut arm. Your eyes watched as your blood cried from the cut, and a sick part of you was tempted to lick it clean.

The barn was clearly too old to still be in use; the only company you had was heaps of hay, creaking wood, and a roof that threatened to collapse onto you any minute. The barn had two stories, although the second story only covered one-half of the first floor, a long unstable ladder leading towards it. You had come so far, and the thought of being above viewpoint was somewhat comforting. So, you carefully climbed up the ladder. Letting out a sigh of relief when you made it, throwing yourself onto a lump of hay in the far corner. You felt hidden, away from anything or anyone.

"They ought' to be here!" Paul exclaimed, clearly exasperated and exhausted from this situation. They had been looking for you all night, neither of them being able to get an ounce of rest knowing you, their mate, had gone missing in Santa Carla of all places. They had traced your steps the next evening when you failed to show up, following your faint scent into a shady alleyway. To say Marko nearly hyperventilated at the smell and sight of your dried blood was an understatement. They were all beyond worried, sick to the bone. Their only consolation is that you were alive; they would've felt it had your bond died. No, you were still alive, and they couldn't rest until they found you.

"I smell it too; it's faint. They must've been here; their blood must've dried a while ago." Dwayne hadn't spoken a word since you went missing, only ever speaking up when he needed to. He had to remain calm; in a situation like this, David and the others needed a rock to ground themselves on, and despite the emotional anguish he felt, clawing at his heart to cry out for you senselessly, he remained stoic.

"Search the area. I don't care if you have to stick your nose in the filthy soil; find where the scent leads." David growled; he felt the worst out of everyone; he felt a horrible, cumbersome chain tying itself around his throat. Guilt. He was the coven leader; his job was to ensure his mates were safe. He was immortal, a god-damned creature of hell, but what was the point of being invincible if he couldn't even protect the people who mattered? He shouldn't have let you go that night; he shouldn't have listened to the others. It was in his instinct to take you with him, to keep you in his sight, safe.

None of them really conversed much since you disappeared, sure they were all mates, but your absence left them incomplete. If the conversation wasn't about finding you, they didn't have it.

Micheal was fairing the worst, an undeniable feeling of guilt similar to David's settling on his body. Sure, David was supposed to protect everyone. But ultimately, he was the reason you came to Santa Carla in the first place. Maybe if he had hidden it better, his adjustment to his new life, his mother would've never sent you here to hell city of all places.

Marko couldn't stay still; he had even tried some of Paul's more vigorous weeds to keep him calm. But he couldn't, rushing from place to place like a frightened cat. Some might mistake this as hyperness, but the boys knew the real reason. Pure, unfiltered anxiety. Like a bunny hopping from place to place, a weasel who can't stay still, Marko found you first. Sleeping in a curled, protective form, body covered in several pieces of hay. But the sight of dried blood over you, not hearing your heartbeat, his world crashed down onto him.

“Y/N?” His voice was croaked, raw from emotion. The simple word, breathless as it was, caught the attention of everyone.

Marko kneeled, letting his hand ghost your shoulder and arm before shaking you. Seeing your eyes open, as tired and irritated as they were, brought such relief to him that he could cry. However, Paul was a step ahead of him, being the first to join Marko in fussing over you.

David, Dwayne, and Micheal followed soon after. Dwayne wasted no time helping you sit up, carefully inspecting your body until letting his eyes land on the cut on your arms, studying it carefully before grabbing the cloth tied around his waist and making a makeshift bandage to prevent dirt from coming into your wounds.

"What happened to you?" Micheal finally piped up, grabbing your hands and inspecting the dried blood. He only let out his own breath when he realized it wasn't your blood. He pulled you into a tight hug, his hold tight and unrelinquishing as he nuzzled his head into the top of your hair.

"Stop hogging her!" Paul complained, shoving Micheal off. It wasn't anything too forceful, more like a nudge. When Micheal pulled away to fight with Paul, Marko swooped in and pulled you into his arms. Taking on a similar position to Micheals. "You made us worried." He murmured into your neck, giving you another squeeze to reassure yourself you were there. Safe in his arms again.

All the boys had been so ecstatic to see you; even David's shoulders dropped as he sighed of pure relief. But he was more analytical than the others; he recognized the lack of your heartbeat. The way blood seemed to cling onto you, he could sense it. Somehow, you had become a vampire. The thought made him cold, even more, frigid than he already was. No, his anger was blazing, but it did not radiate a scalding heat but the opposite. His fury was glacial.

"Wait outside for us." His authoritative voice commanded, sending silence across the shabby barn. They all send pleading looks toward you before slowly leaving. Dwayne grabbed David's shoulder, reminding him to be gentle with whatever the bleach blonde had planned. When the boys had finally left, you felt your ability to breathe return. You had been so overwhelmed, thousands of thoughts and questions running through you. Why weren't they afraid? You were a bloody mess! You could understand Micheal looking for you, but the others as well?

Your small moment of relief was quickly replaced with dread as you realized you were alone in a room with a man you couldn't bring yourself to lie to. It was silent, the sound of singing crickets seemingly decorating the night air. It would be relaxing if you didn't hate the oppression its silence came with. Slowly getting up, you winced at the reopening of your cut.

David slowly walked over, carefully reaching out and cupping your cheeks. He stayed like that momentarily, simply soaking in the sight of you before him. Eventually, his hand traveled lower before pushing down the collar of your shirt, revealing the two puncture wounds that changed your life forever. His eyes flashed yellow, a low, animalistic sound escaping him.

"Who?"

"What?" You snapped yourself out of your lost haze, finally meeting David's cold stare. It wasn't directed at you, but you, unfortunately, didn't know that.

"Who did this to you?"

The question seemingly transported you. Back into the body of a helpless individual, losing their lives in a dingy alleyway. The fear, the panic, it made you crumble. Your knees went weak as you wobbled back onto the floor. "I—" you struggled, trying to put on a brave face in front of such stern eyes. "I—I didn't know them."

That answer provided a scowl to erupt across David's features, a feeling of uselessness washing over him. How was he supposed to avenge you if you couldn't give him anything to work off of? He sighed, his mind wanting to push further, but a simple glance at your quivering form prevented him from doing so. "Come on, rosebud, let's get you somewhere safe." He eventually settled on that, watching you stumble before picking you up. If he hadn't pushed you enough tonight, he lifted off the ground to reach the bottom, and promptly, the outside of the barn sent your mind reeling.

You wanted to run, but the feeling of being in someone's arms. Someone you knew, someone who felt oddly safe to you had you staying. The boys glanced at you two, Dwayne coming over and taking you from David's arms. He saw your weak and drowsy state, his heart clenching at the sight. "She hasn't had enough blood." He started calmly, watching you soullessly rest your head against his chest. "We'll give her some in the cave, then she'll be able to recover someplace safe." Dwayne nodded at David's statement, readjusting you in his arms. The movement prompted you to open your eyes, the smell of his leather jacket oddly settling to you. "Get some rest Y/N; we'll take care of you now. You'll feel better soon," you nodded slowly. Closing your eyes and resigning yourself to whatever the future holds for you now. It couldn't get any worse anyways.

"Are they still sleeping?"

An exasperated sigh echoed throughout the cave, Dwayne rolling his eyes before rubbing his temples. "You asked five minutes ago; yes, they're still sleeping!"

A loud hush followed from David and Micheal, both scolding the two for talking so loudly. Everyone was on edge; you had slept for nearly two days now. And although odd sleeping patterns weren't rare for fledglings, you were a neglected fledgling, which provided them all with many concerns and worries. The birth of a new vampire was often labeled as a fledgling, as in the eyes of vampires, you, and your very unique nature, was akin to that of a baby. Similarly to neglecting babies upon birth, they weren't sure what consequences you'd suffer from upon waking.

"David, we need to wake them. They need to feed." Micheal chimed in, his need to coddle you almost overbearing. Although the boys had given him a fair share of tough love, they made sure his fledgling stage was a healthy one. He was more moody than ever, but changes like those were common for at least a year after turning. Although David acted the coldest, he had been the most persistent that Micheal was feeding enough and adequately. A complete mother-hen in denial.

David sighed, getting up from his wheelchair-like throne and making his way over to the bed you and Dwayne were snuggled in. The sight would've warmed his heart if the circumstances would've been different. He walked around before settling down on the edge of the bed closest to you. He gave Dwayne an approving nod, "Wake them; they've rested enough." He whispered, gently stroking your cold cheek before pulling away. His poor rosebud.

Dwayne gently shook your shoulder, shifting you off of him in order not to scare you when you woke up, watching you slowly stir awake, blinking the fatigue off of your cute expression.

For you, it has, somehow, gotten worse.

Waking up, you felt feverish; your body ached similarly to how it had done hours ago. When you had—had killed that bunny.

Your hand instinctively clutched at your throat, trying to somehow dull the ache. Your hearing was blurred, but you heard distant hushes and orders before fully coming too. Your eyes focused on the concerned figures of David and Dwayne, practically looking over you as Dwayne took your hand away from your throat, hushing your pain-fueled whines. "Shh, it's okay. You're okay." Dwayne's soft but stern voice seemed to stabilize you, but the familiar need left your body twisting and shifting. Every little muscle felt utterly uncomfortable, aching torturously.

David gently combed his fingers through your hair, trying his best to calm you down. Seeing his mate, his little vampire, in such distress ruined him. "It's okay, rosebud, we're here to help." He hummed, glancing at Dwayne as they silently communicated. They slowly helped you sit up, watching the way your hand unknowingly sharpened its nails. Your body prepares itself for a meal.

"What's happened?" You stammered, hating the way you were losing control. A deep sense of fear washed over you, draining into your being. "I—David, Dwayne—"You couldn't form a proper sentence, but the words you did manage to say put the two eldest vampires into a protective frenzy.

Dwayne hushed you, gently rubbing a soothing pattern against your back. David already shrugged off his jacket, shifting his shirt to properly expose his neck to you. He watched with narrowed eyes how your gaze halted against his suddenly exposed skin, watching the small bob of your throat as you swallowed at sight.

Dwayne gently cupped the back of your head, nudging you towards David. "You're hungry, baby; look at David. He's offering you a meal, sweetheart. You'll feel better once you feed; trust us; we'll take care of you."

Your unsure gaze flashed between them, that odd feeling once again tugging at you. Your body, more than ever, felt pulled to them; they gave you comfort. A need to be with them, and in a moment of weakness, you thought yourself giving in to them. Letting your body get pulled; once close enough, David snaked his arms around your waist, pulling you closer to practically be sitting in his lap. You inhaled the sweet scent that seemingly surrounded David, making your tense shoulders loosen, your body easing into the comfort that David provided. The bleach blood rubbed your back, trying to soothe you further. "Come on, rosebud, let those instincts take over."

The two could tell you weren't going to take a bite on your own, your mind and body too perplexed to accept the reality of your situation. Dwayne reached over, letting one of his fingernails extend into a claw-like shape and making a small slash at David's neck, letting his crimson blood trickle from the wound.

As if the smell and sight triggered your buried instincts, you latched onto David's neck. Your fangs pierce the skin with a painful clumsiness typical for a fledgling. But the sound of your eager gulps had both of the vampires relaxing, Dwayne gently moving your hair to one side as David held you close. "That's it, good job." The blonde praised, keeping a firm but caring grip on the back of your head, not letting you go until you had a full feeding. The praise, the touch, and the comfort from both of them allow you to fully relax. Letting out small sighs of relief as you drank greedily, gulping down the sweet crimson from David. Letting his blood calm every screaming nerve inside you, replacing the dull ache with a welcomed high. "Good job, sweetheart; see how good it feels to feed?" Dwayne's voice cooed gently into your ear, sending shivers down your spine.

It took a while before you unlatched from David, his blood messily spread and smeared across your mouth. The sight nearly made Dwayne coo at your adorable form, your eyes a little glassy from feeling so overwhelmed. David, on the other hand, felt overly satisfied, watching your relaxed state of a post-feed high, gently nudging you to lay back down.

"What a messy little fledgling you are." He teased softly, chuckling as he watched your eyes droop. Now that your needs have been met, you feel an unexplainable tiredness, the suddenness of your exhaustion setting your nerves off once more. Before you could push yourself up again, Dwayne guided you back down. Covering you in a blanket, "Sleep baby, it's normal to feel tired after such a big meal."

You nodded, at that moment, not overthinking. "We'll be here when you wake up; rest now, rosebud." You heard David's voice whisper, the two vampires watching you drift off into a peaceful slumber.

Once they were sure you were fully asleep, they slowly crawled out of the bed. Greeting the upset-looking vampires in the main hall, all angry about being benched by the oldest. "Why did you get to feed her?" Marko cursed, casting an irritated glare toward David, who sat back down with smugness. Flashing your sloppy bite mark off to the others with pride. "Because I'm the oldest and our coven leader Marko." He explained calmly, reveling in the jealousy of others.

Paul groaned, having laid himself back up on the couch. His head was hidden in one of the cushions. "They probably looked so cute.." Dwayne smiled, your hesitance and gradual acceptance being awfully adorable in his eyes. "They sure was." He mused, making both Marko and Paul groan.

Micheal sighed, a part of him just glad you ate. But he feared for what you'd be like after waking up from your nap, with a clear head this time. Would you hate him? Indeed you couldn't accept this life so quickly; among all of them, he was the only one who didn't see this feeding as acceptance. He knew you still had a lot of things to say, and none of the boys were ready to hear it.

When you woke up again, your body felt better, stronger, and more rejuvenated. You couldn't really remember what happened when you woke up the first time, only having a hazy memory of David and Dwayne being by your side. You sat up, looking around you and the bed you were In. The sheer curtains around the bed didn't let you see anything besides silhouettes around the cave, prompting you to get up and shift out of bed.

You glanced around, analyzing your surroundings. When did you get inside a cave? You could hear distant chatter, following the sound until you entered the central part of the cave. A decrepit fountain in the center of it all, your steps echoing across the stone floors.

"You're awake!" Paul perked up as he turned around at the sound of footsteps, grinning as he saw you. He waved you over, watching your confused stare before finally making your way around and sitting down on the couch beside him. The couch cushions were soft and overused, letting you practically sink into the pillow-like cushion.

"How do you feel?" He asked, his eyes carrying the familiar blown-out expression you were used to. "Right now? I'm surprisingly fine." Paul grinned at the answer, taking a quick drag of his joint before moving closer. "Now that's all I ever want to hear, baby."

"Piss off, you crack-head!" Micheal hissed, shoving Paul's face away from yours. You jumped at the sudden intrusion, standing up from the couch. "Micheal, we need to talk." You said sternly, ignoring the way Paul cackled behind you two.

The brunette nodded, walking back over to the bed the boys had set up for you. If David returned from his hunt early with Dwayne, the two overprotective vampires would roast him alive if they found out he had taken you out of their nest. He slid the curtains closed, trying to regain a semblance of privacy for you. "Okay," he murmured, crossing his legs as you two settled on the bed. "Hit me with it."

You sighed, initially wanting to leave wherever the hell you were. But you didn't seem to have the strength to settle back on the bed, sitting criss-cross and fiddling with the hem of your shirt. "What the hell has been going on? I mean—what am I? What are you?" Questions kept escaping you like a bunch of word vomit, making Micheal hold up his hands to try and silence you.

"Slow down," he sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. He didn't want to hurt you with this information, but he knew it was a hard pill to swallow.

"Firstly, you're a vampire. We're not sure from who, but someone had turned you. The act is done by being bitten and then promptly consuming the other's blood."

As if the world didn't feel like it was falling down onto your shoulders, the cumbersome weight of your malicious reality certainly did wonders in keeping you in a constant state of disparity. You didn't want to believe Micheal, but you knew better than to sit in a puddle of denial. It wouldn't change a thing; you'd just drag out the pain longer. Before you could properly grieve your past life, the two devil twins came barging into your space. Jumping onto the mattress, making all of you bounce into the air before landing not so gracefully against the mattress.

"Jesus Christ, you two! Will you chill out? This ain't exactly easy for her to take in." Micheal argued, sitting back up with an irritated stare. But there was nothing much his words could do as the two blondes surrounded you.

"Cheer up, sugar! Being a vampire ain't all that bad; we can do some pretty cool things too!" Marko cheered, his energy quickly matched by Paul as they tried to cheer you up. They couldn't stand the sight of you sulking, no one in the cave could, but everyone was so preoccupied with your situation that even the century-old immortals didn't know what to do.

But you still couldn't get over the fact that you now had to kill people; what had happened to you filled you with such rage that you didn't know what to do with yourself. You had been wronged, and every fiber of your miserable being wanted to rip whoever did this to you apart by the seams. "Mhm, sounds great, Marko." You murmured into the crook of your arm, not really paying attention as you sat curled up on the bed.

Both Marko and Paul glanced at each other at your dull response, Paul's expression contorting to one of worry. He wasn't the best at comforting you, especially since he had wanted his turning, and although the thought of someone else harming you made his blood boil; in secret, a deeply-hidden part of him was glad. Now you were like them and could live together for the rest of your immortal lives. The two glanced at each other before nodding, bouncing off the cave and hiding behind the sheer curtains.

You hadn't even noticed them leaving, or at least you didn't acknowledge it. But the sound of subtle little squeaks had you lifting your head, letting out a small gasp of your own as you were bombarded by two blonde bats. One had fluffy blonde hair, while the other's fur appeared more curly, no doubt being reminiscent of the two blonde bikers. "Paul—Marko?" You called out, getting little chirps back in return. Paul flew around you a couple of times before landing on your head, making a mess of your hair. Marko didn't sit still, flying around you, giving you a slight nip here and there to keep you on edge as you laughed.

"I didn't know you could turn into bats!" You laughed, for a moment finding paece in the distraction the two provided. The sound of your small laughter provided the cave with an unseeable light, but all of them could feel it. Paul and Marko flopped back into their human form, grabbing your arm and hoisting you off of the bed. "Come on, darlin', you can do it too!" Paul cheered, Marko, nodding eagerly as the two distracted you.

Dwayne put the bag of clothes he had gotten for you in his hand down, letting his feet drop to the floor with David's. He let out a sigh, getting up and walking over to the two terror twins. "So she can fall onto the cave floor?" He asked, his disapproval clear in his authoritative tone.

"Lighten up, Dwayne! So you fall a little; what's so wrong with that? It's all part of the fun." Marko argued, mentally challenging Dwayne. Everyone knew their intention was to distract you, and although Dwayne couldn't stand the sight of you sulking, he wouldn't put you in danger, either. He prefers you brooding then having to you see your body black and blue from screaming bruises.

"You call falling on your ass fun?" Micheal chummed in, letting his body rest against the headboard of the bed, dramatically rubbing his butt to lighten the mood.

"Not everyone is as bad as you are when it comes to flying, Mikey," Paul argued, rolling his eyes.

"She shouldn't transform until she's had a proper meal." The authoritative voice of David chimes in, effectively ruining your mood. You wanted to stand up and argue with the blonde, to stomp your foot into the ground and demand he stops commanding you. But you were out of your element here; even if you wanted to be stubborn, you're just hurting yourself. "I am not killing anyone, David."

You watched his cold eyes narrow at you, wanting to watch you waiver, but seeing the resilient look on your face made him sigh. He pulled out a cigarette in a desperate attempt to calm his nerves. His little mate was denying themselves proper health, and although he might act uncaring, it was worrying him sick. The boys had agreed to give you some time to adjust, but as the coven leader, it was his job to assure the health and safety of all his members. Especially you.

"Don't worry about it; you can still drink from us whenever you feel hungry." Micheal hummed, his tone gentle and reassuring as he rested his hand on your shoulder. Gently rubbing the tense muscle as you settled back into your seat. You nodded, cringing subtly at the idea before deciding to drop it.

"Feels good, doesn't it?" Paul's sultry voice echoed in your ear, making your hands twitch with an unfamiliar itch. Excitement spreads through you, filling you with a sense of adrenaline. You slowly realized what position you were actually in, Paul lying underneath you, your hips straddling his as he rested his hand on your thigh. In your roughness, his jacket seemed to half slide down his shoulders, now resting against the crevice of his elbows. His mesh-like top left little to the imagination, his pale chest on display for your hungry eyes. He looked delicious.

As if Paul could tell he was losing your attention, he rutted his hips against your aching nerves. Letting out a shaky sigh, his signature crooked grin spreading across his features as he watched you suck in a breath. "Eyes on me baby, just feel with me, yeah?" Despite neither of you needing air, he sounded practically breathless; but you also felt breathless. Your post-drinking haze left your body so sensitive, every little spark of friction igniting a new addiction deep within you. You two felt like pure sin.

You have been in the cave for about two weeks now. Letting yourself feed regularly off of the vampires you were staying with, none of you liked to address the elephant in the room that was your turning. The mate bond between you all had strengthened, leading you all to be closer than before throughout this time. Even David acted softer around you. But something you weren't prepared for was the many feelings associated with feeding, more specifically the lust.

In all your rampant thoughts, you failed to see Marko pull the sheer curtain back, his eyes lighting mischievously at the display. He tugged off his boots, slowly sneaking over to you; your back still turned to him. He watched silently before slowly pushing himself against you. His chest against your back, the smell of the forest and fresh blood sticking to his skin. You moaned at the smell, letting the back of your head rest against his shoulder. As if sensing your uncertainty about actually indulging yourself, Marko slowly let his delicate hands trail towards your hips. Slowly, he guided yours to grind against Paul's aching bulge.

You let out a shaky breath, one that came out shaky and chopped as you let your body tingle at the feeling. Although it felt good at that very moment, it only fueled your need. Your hand gripped Markos, a weak attempt at stopping him from tempting you.

"Ah ah, let me darlin'." He mused, his tone so coy you could practically hear his smugness. He continued rocking your hips, one of the hands holding your hips gradually moving upwards sensually before ending at your chin. Cupping the skin in a firm grip, he slowly removed your head hiding in the crook of his neck and titled it towards the debauched sight of a panting Paul. His bottom lip was caught in between his lips, and one of his eyes squeezed shut as his chest heaved up and down in a complete state of breathlessness.

"Look at him, all messy for you." He pointed out, moving your hips to push particularly roughly against Paul, making both of you moan at the friction. Unlike Dwayne and Michael, Marko and Paul didn't want to comfort you in the sense that this situation was terrible, but instead accept what you now were. How good it could feel, what it was like to have the freedom to explore every ounce of your most concealed secrets.

"Lesson one of being a vampire," Marko mused, removing his hold on you. The two changed positions with you. Paul now leaning his back against the headboard, legs spread with you in between them, your back pressed against his chest. His hand trailed around your waist, teasing your shirt before slipping underneath. His fingers now torment your searing skin, which in reality was just as freezing as the two blondes was. Marko nudged your legs open, laying on his front so his head rested conveniently between your thighs. He guided them open, caressing your skin soothingly.

"Feeding is often accompanied by an insatiable–" Marko purred, kissing up the length of your thigh. "And nearly irresistible," He continued but was cut off by Paul, who had begun massaging your sides; "hunger," Paul finished.

"So why don't you lean back and let us care for ya'?" Paul mused, practically whispering the phrase into your ear. In a similar fashion, you would've imagined the snake talking Eve into biting into the apple, Paul and Marko were the current embodiment of Lucifer for you, and this time you weren't in the mood to repent. No, you'd welcome the flames of hell eagerly, the masochist inside you hoping to feel the sting of its flames. With a nod of your head, a messy high clouding you with need, you officially sold your soul to the two devils holding you.

Marko grinned, his lips trailing kisses up your thigh, inching closer to where you needed him to be. They were teasing you, your needy eyes watching Marko kiss over your most needy spot, his teeth nipping the top of your pants, one of his fangs sticking out from the fabric. He looked up, his darkened gaze connected with yours as he patiently pulled your undergarments down.

As if in a desperate attempt not to lose your attention, Paul nipped at your neck. The sudden action sends a small jolt of electricity through you, pulling a soft mewl from you. Marko cooed at the noise while Paul chuckled, both clearly amused by your current state. They knew how hormonal fledglings could be, like animals in heat; Micheal was no different.

They had helped him out too, and they were most eager to provide their services now as well.

No matter how hard they tried, how often they showed you the normality in their ways. You couldn't wrap your head around it, that nagging resistance keeping you awake. You couldn't enter this life without committing yourself to a final attempt at regaining your old one. So, when the others went out to eat after feeding you. You left, setting out for your last, and final attempt at regaining your old humanity.

The leaves rustled with a strange ferocity as you pushed your way through the untraveled path. You didn't want to accept what you were; there needed to be an alternative. You didn't want to admit it, so when the daunting forest around your figure cleared, you saw the back of the church. You wanted to believe in that hope, that perhaps all these values preached and thrown down your throat had a purpose.

The forest was at the back of the church, revealing a small garden enclosed by a white picket fence. You hopped it, letting your bloody hands stain the purity of its color permanently. You rushed towards the back door, balling your first and desperately pounding in the creaky wooden door. You quickly shifted your focus, trying to open the door and jiggling the handle. "Please! Someone—anyone, please!"

Not hearing an answer, you stumbled back. Your tears make you choke on your own sorrow, rushing around toward the front of the building. "Please, Father! Anyone, please!" You begged, continuing to slam your hand against the door. It wasn't until it opened that you stood stunned, chest heaving, hands stained, and body soaked. You wailed in front of this man's sanctuary. Begging entry.

The man appeared elderly, with white and gray hair dominating the little hair he still had left on his head. His black cassock made his position as a priest clear, but you didn't dare move. You felt the need to be invited in.

"Goodness! Child, come, come inside." He ushered you into the old building; there were candles lighting the area, casting everything in a warm glow. You stepped inside, unable to stop your shaking, until the man covered you in a blanket. He was probably trying to provide your frigid body with warmth. "What happened to you?"

"Father, please, you need to help me. I need help—please, I need aid." You stammered, letting him guide you into a back room away from the main hall. He listened to you, his brows and face contorted in worry. "Calm down; you are safe now."

The room seemed less decorated but more elaborate than you would've thought it would be in the church, but you didn't say much as you sat down in the empty chair across the old desk. This must've been some sort of office. The priest stared for a moment, his gaze lingering on your stained hands before shuffling around the desk. His shoes thumped across the red carpet covering half of the dark oak floors. He sat down, letting his hands intertwine, and he rested them folded on the edge of the desk. "So, my child, what brings you here? What has brought you to my doors in such distress?"

You needed a moment to collect yourself for that question. What hadn't happened to you in the last week? Every horror imaginable seemed to be flowing through your life at the moment. A part of you wanted to lie, but you knew that hiding the true nature of your case would prevent you from getting any practical help. This was necessary. Clearing your throat, you slowly gather your perseverance to continue.

"Father, you must believe what I have to say. I am new to Santa Carla, but in my stay, I've encountered death and despair more than in any other place." You started, your voice shook and a clear representation of what you were feeling, utterly distraught. The man nodded, seemingly focused on you as he urged you to continue. "But what I originally thought were simple gangsters, feuds, and typical street violence became much darker. Vampires, Father, Vampires reside in this town, and I've found myself to be one of them."

You were desperate; frantic eyes watched the man inhale and lean back in his chair. He thought deeply, or at least the look of concentration was deeply etched into the creases of his face. He sighed, uncrossing his hand and gently reaching out to rest a comforting hand on top of yours.

"My child, I've read the bible well. The true structure of this world and how it came to be, the only time vampires were ever named—or mentioned. Alukah only ever being mentioned in Sefer Chasidim, where the creature is understood to be a living human being but can shape-change into a wolf. Alukah can also roughly be translated to "blood-lusting monster" or, in your case, a vampire."

He had a calm tone, deep and raspy, but it seemed to have an oddly chiding tone. He moved away, leaning fully back now against his chair as he chuckled. "But my dear, I assure you that these are old tales; such demons do not exist among us anymore."

His words were like a splash of cold water to the face, a deep, unsettling reality overcoming you. You sounded crazy; of course, no one would believe you. "But Father!" He held his hand up to silence you, shaking his head in a disapproving manner. "You can lie to me, but you cannot fool the Lord."

Anger seemed to replace your sorrow, standing up abruptly, the stool you were previously resting in falling to the floor with a loud clunk. "I am not lying!" You screeched, your face unknowingly morphing into one similar to the boys. Angled features, sharp bones, and burning yellow eyes. The man stumbled back, stammering as he took in the demonic sight that was you. His hand unknowingly grabbed onto his cross, moving out of his chair.

"I need your help Father; I have not consumed human blood yet! There needs to be a way to fix this!" Once again, you were pleading. A part of you was growing sick of it; how could a man detest your current nature but refuse to help you revert back to your "purer" self at the same time? It was hypocritical.

The hand holding the pectoral cross shook with a small tremor, breath equally as rough when it escaped his shaken form. His free hand covered his mouth, either trying to hide his labored breathing or trying to regain composure. You weren't quite sure. The silence in the room now was unsettling, threatening even—leaving you on edge. Finally, the old man's hoarse voice cut through the air as he removed the pale hand from his mouth. He waved it toward him as he walked over before passing you and opening the door. Standing beside the frame as he beckoned you to follow.

"Come come, my child. We must act quickly; you have the devil inside you. With every moment we waste, it'll grow stronger." You nodded, cringing at his choice of words before slowly following him. You would've argued at the choice of words but didn't seem to have the energy to do so. You followed as he led you through the church, leading you towards the back door you had previously banged on. He opened it, leading you towards the backyard. To the left, there was a small gravely path that shortly led to a wooden shed. Wood rot was apparent when you looked at the dying boards that made up the shed's walls.

He unlocked the shed with his key; the loud cling of chains dropping was quickly followed by the squeak of old hinges being forced to move again as he opened the door. It was an average shed if it didn't have a hidden doorway behind a shabby bookshelf. The old man pushed the shelf to the left, revealing a mossy, dirty stairway further down in what you assume to be a basement.

As if the priest could see your confusion, he began to say, "This church used to perform a multitude of exorcisms. We used to do it in the old church, but people began associating it too much with demons, so we renovated the old shack basement to do the job. That was a while ago," He mumbled, walking down the steps and revealing an equally run-down setup. There was a bed, shabby with a mattress stained with yellow and brown. The bed frame seemed to be made of rusted metal, not undoubtedly a cheap purchase at the time. Restrains we're hanging from each end of the bed.

Every fiber of your being was begging you not to lay on that mattress, but your own desperation convinced you. It convinced you to lie down and let that man tie you up; it made you trust him to cure you.

"So what will you do?"

"What I need too."

His gruff voice echoed through the room; he had tied something loosely around your eyes. Explaining that it was all part of the process. You heard him open on an old shelf, the sound of clinking wood making you uneasy. Your instincts screamed at you, but you weren't sure for what. You didn't understand yourself anymore, and the frustration coursing through you nearly brought you to tears. You just wanted all of this to be over, to understand yourself once again.

"And what would that be?" You edged further, feeling like something was wrong.

"What I was born to do."

His voice grew darker, lowering an octave or two, making you shift. The blindfold slid at your defiance, sliding off of one of your eyes. Snapping them open, you took in a sight you'd surely never forget. There, a man swore to do no harm and held a wooden spike in his shaky hand. The other clutching his cross to his heart while whispering mantras. He didn't even hesitate as he saw your yellow eyes open before he slashed forward, putting his full force into the throw of the stake.

Perhaps it was instinct, or perhaps it was simply foolish for the man to believe leather binds would chain you. But in a moment of adrenaline, you pushed your body away from the mattress, your wrists and ankles suffering a burn from the sudden action as you snapped yourself away from your murder. Watching the way his sheer force stabbed the stake through the mattress, your eyes lingering on sight.

That blow was meant to kill you.

"You fucking bastard!" You growled, a distorted tone to your voice as you took a step towards him. But with your lack of control, your hand was around the man's throat with his old back smashed against one of the walls.

"I trusted you! What kind of priest are you? You are meant to aid, protect, and serve. I am still one of God's creations! You taint your very purpose in this life with your actions!" The hand around his neck tightened, your claws unwilling to draw blood. Your eyes zeroed in on the sinful liquid, the smell so much more intense than of any of the boys.

The boys.

David was right; they were right. There was no turning back for you.

"You will never—be one of God's—creations."

Those were his last words before you ripped his throat out with your teeth. Dismembering the man's jugular, drinking away the last of your crumbling humanity. There was an irony in it that the remains of your dying humanity weren't taken from the vampires you now lived with but by a human themselves.

The man fell to the floor, eyes a haunting color. They were cloudy; you couldn't describe the sight of his pale skin mimicking the shade of yours.

You wailed, grieving everything you were as you sat hunched on the floor. Covered in the blood of the man who tried, and in some way—killed you.

You weren't sure how long you sat there, frozen, until the boys came. A hand gently shaking your shoulder, making you jump, meeting the eyes of a saddened Paul. "Oh, darlin'.." He whispered, watching you stammer, desperate to explain. But he simply picked you up, bridal-style, and led you out where the rest of the boys stood.

Marko walked over, letting Paul set you on the ground before the curly-haired vampire pulled you into a tight hug. A hug which all of the boys joined, their hearts breaking at the sound of your sobs. "It's okay, it'll be okay," Marko whispered, holding you close.

"Come on, let's take you home." David sighed after a moment. His voice drowned out in the hauntingly silent night.

That evening was the second and final marking of your death. The first takes place in an alleyway by a vampire, and the job is finished by a human. You struggled after that night; you barely ate or talked. You felt awful, your thoughts not abandoning you or your guilt. You were a murderer.

That all had taken place a few days ago, your body now sat on the roof along the boardwalk. It was a motel, two stories high, so you found a semblance of privacy on top of the concrete roof. You sat on the thick stone wall of a fence, letting your legs dangle over the edge.

"I'll never forget the day I made my first victim." Micheals voice cut through the distant booming of chatter and joy taking place below you by the adolescent and naive party-goers on the boardwalk.

"It was April 6th, at about 12:06. I lost my life forever." He went on, walking closer towards you. Stopping beside you and leaning on the fence with his forearms. His gaze lingered on the glowing boardwalk, casting everything surrounding it in a golden orange.

"So we're all murderers.." You murmured, eyes not meeting him, but you knew he was now looking at you. Your tone was cold and distant.

"He was a child molester." Micheal spat, standing up and gently moving you so you looked at him. "We don't have to be monsters, Y/N; we don't have to kill the good. I chose to take the evil from this world, and you can too."

You nodded weakly, not in the mood to argue. You let a frail smile tug on your lips, nodding to his words as you let him wrap an arm around your shoulder and squeeze you close before slowly leaving. Giving you space. Once again, you were surrounded by silence. Nothing but the blurred screams from ride-goers, drunks laughing and prancing around on the ground beneath you.

"He's wrong." That crystal clear voice, his tone stern and unwavering even if David tried to sound gentle. But his words felt icy like a cold bucket of water was poured over you. Sinking into the skin, leaving goosebumps to ravage your already frigid body. When Micheals words provided comfort, as if holding your wounded heart in his hands, David seemed to drop it instead.

"What?"

He walked over, the sound of his boots tapping against the concrete. You didn't necessarily look at him, but you noticed he settled beside you. His body bent forward, forearms resting against the wall-like railing on the rooftop. You both stood there in silence, watching the stars glitter across the ocean's surface. The silent, cruel breeze drifts through your hair and body. Seagulls cried, and boardwalk goers partied, but you felt so far away from it all. It made you question the finality of your death and where it had really occurred. Did you die in that alleyway or when you let go of your remaining humanity? You were sure a part of you must die in order to take a life; death is inevitable for either party. There is no such thing as only one dying; the other might live but never completely. Your humanity had died along with that priest.

"You are a monster." David's voice was stern, clear, and factual. Your gaze turned to him finally, seeing the way he stared so longingly out at the sea before turning to you.

"What the fuck David?" You snapped, feeling like this was not the time for him to throw his own values onto you. You had killed someone, taken a life, and instead of trying to bring you any consultation, he insulted you?

"Don't you think I feel shitty enough? Fuck this, I know, okay? I know you don't need to stand here and rub it in my face!" Why had you expected anything else from the blonde, you couldn't lie to David, and he had neither lied to you. He was, on many occasions, the truth.

"You are a monster, Y/N. You will never die; you will never age." He hummed, ignoring your outburst as he took out a cigarette and lit it. He held it up to his lips, taking a long drag, dropping his hand against the railing before blowing out the smoke. "But you must feed." There was a finality in his town that made you suffer as if you were the only one who noticed the morbid aberration of your circumstances. But how were you supposed to explain your regret about eating a sheep to a hungry pack of wolves?

"What if I don't want to?" You asked, voice hoarse from the raw emotions you felt. You wanted to smack him, berate him to find another time to torment you.

"You'll kill someone you actually like." He whispered an answer that took you off guard. Eyes trailing back to him, you noticed that haze. A similar one to what Michael used to wear whenever he encountered an old memory. Yes, David seemed to be dancing in his past.

"But make no mistake, Y/N. You are a monster. A filthy abomination that feeds off the weak, the defenseless." He focused his cold gaze on you, "You will fall apart the day you realize just how much you enjoy it. The screams, the suffering, the pain. It will be the only consistent factor in your life. And when you look around and see the constant deterioration of mankind. You will turn and see us." He took another drag of his cigarette before dropping it, suffocating its flame with his boot. "We are monsters too, Y/N."

"I will never let you forget it. I will tell you every day before you rest and when you awake." There was an odd gentleness to his tone, one that made you look up at him once more. Although you could hardly bear to keep eye contact with the man.

"Why?" You had a thousand questions running wild throughout your head, an intimidating rampage and riot pushing through, begging millions of questions to be answered. They stuck in your throat like a lump, a noose around your vocals, keeping you silent. Finally, you managed to settle on that one word. Why?

"Do you think a lion thinks of itself as a monster when it eats a gazelle?"

"We aren't animals, David–"

"But aren't we? We're all just mammals trying to get by. A lion doesn't feel guilty for killing because that's what a lion simply does. They need to in order to survive." His eyes seemed to burn into you, a desperate sense of vulnerability taking hold of his features. It seemed David wanted to spare you from your own feelings, to clear the path you were going on, no doubt one he had walked before.

"But what if we asked the gazelle what they thought of the lion. When a meal would mean losing a brother or sister, mother or father, the gazelle would see the lion as a monster too."

A heavy wind blew through your hair, reminding you of the night air. Whispering about the daytime and how you would never be able to see it again. Feel its warmth kiss your skin, see its joyful birth across the horizon. The wind mocked you, and the night sky never felt so empty before.

"So?" You asked, wanting a conclusion to this lesson. A small chuckle parted from David, the blonde finding your impatience amusing.

"The term monster is subjectable. It depends on who you ask, rosebud. To them," He gestured to the late-night party-goers. "You will always and forever be a monster." But before you could frown, even dare settle on that phrase for too long. He turned to you, taking your hand and squeezing it. As if you'd let go, leaving him alone. "But to us, you are everything."

"I'll call you a monster until the word doesn't sting anymore."

He whispered, cupping your cheek. You noted the lack of his gloves, for the first time touching his bare skin. He leaned closer, kissing the top of your forehead lovingly. It was an embrace in some way, a sweet and gentle promise. That no matter what you become, he'd love you.

"We'll be down at the boardwalk if you want to join us; you can't stay sulking forever, rosebud.." He whispered, leaving you alone to think once more.

When you did make your way down the sandy docks, feeling grain against your shoe as you walked with a sunken head. You wondered how your life had changed so drastically since you came to Santa Carla, whether everything was for better or worse.

"Hey, Darlin!"

The booming voice of a happy Paul called to you, making you look up. Before you stood your gang of boys leaning against the wooden railing of the boardwalk pier. Their bikes were parked beside them, all smiling as they looked at you. There was fondness in their eyes you could describe, but as you walked over and were encircled by your boys. All equally ecstatic to see you—you felt less alone. Welcomed even. You still had a long way to go, but for once in a long while, did you feel alright. Perhaps, becoming a vampire wasn't the worst thing that's ever happened to you.

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