#fade writes

You had apparently been the Emersons’ last hope, the last good memory linking Michael to Phoenix despite how much time had passed. Mr. Emerson had taken everything he could from Lucy in the divorce and buzzed off to God-knows-where, not that Michael was ever going to go looking for him anyway. You stayed up all night, just in case, hoping and praying he came knocking on your door.

Nothing.

You called out of work, citing a "family emergency." The Emersons were your other family, after all, and how sleep-deprived you were was in the back of your mind as you drove up the California coast. You tried to appreciate the beauty, the waves crashing against the rocks, the sunsets on the horizon, but each sight made you wonder if Mike had sought comfort in them. Then you'd remember Lucy's hiccups as she held back sobs and Sam's dashed hope that you had seen his brother alive, and you'd have to pull over and cry, the tears too intense to safely see the road.

When you weren't considering worst-case-scenarios, you remembered the good times: Halloweens with coordinated costumes, playing pirates and secret agents in kindergarten, slumber parties where you stayed up all night gorging yourself on Lucy's baking and Michael telling Sam to leave the big kids alone, climbing that giant tree in your yard so you could be on top of the whole world.

That New Year's night freshman year…

It was hard to believe that was almost half a decade ago. If you thought really hard, you could still remember how the blanket felt under your legs, how good his jacket smelled and how warm it was around your shoulders against the chill in the winter air, and how shyly he had asked with hope in those sky-blue eyes if he could kiss you as the clock struck midnight.

It was a chaste kiss, being both of yours first, but it did confirm something you'd always known but had trouble admitting.

Without a doubt. Michael Emerson was the first person you had ever loved. And he hadn't been seen in weeks.

~

The "murder capital of the world" wasn't as impressive as it sounded, despite the title blazoned on the back of the billboard. It was little more than a kitschy beach town. You'd never been to the beach, but you weren't necessarily eager to visit this one. But as the sun began to dip on the horizon your protesting stomach demanded a stop before heading to the Emersons' home.

A hole-in-the-wall Chinese place on the boardwalk was bustling with customers, and happened to be the only food not deep fried multiple times and sweating grease. Unfortunately, the way to the entrance took you right past a fence covered end to end with missing persons' posters. Most of the people walked right by without pausing, not even a glimpse at the sea of faces. You walked by with your head hung in shame, every pair of eyes feeling like Michael's gaze boring into your head, demanding to know why you weren't out looking for him yet. A sudden gust of wind had you pulling your arms around yourself as it ripped an old posting off the fence, settling right at your feet.

It was ancient by the looks of it, the paper having long yellowed and wrinkled in the damp sea air. An impossibly young looking boy stared miserably at you, not even a smile on the memory’s features.

“Laddie” Thompson, it read, the lovingly given nickname apparently much more important than the boy’s true one. Who’s missing you, Laddie? you wondered as a wrench pulled at your heart. Are they still looking, or did they have to give up? Are you still out there, somewhere, waiting for someone to find you?

You had to blink away tears as you stepped inside the restaurant. Everyone seemed to be buzzing, barely able to stay in one place, as if they all had somewhere very important to be.

Despite how crowded and noisy it was, you felt more alone than you did driving down the deserted highways. Anyone of these people could have glimpsed Michael, even just for a second, but might never know the wonderful being behind his baby blues and boyish curls.

But you knew. And it ached like an aggravated old wound that never healed properly.

You were snapped back from the brink of another sobbing breakdown when you heard your order number finally called. The smell of dumplings and spicy sauce were calling your name as you reached out, only to see the bag snatched away before you could grab it.

“Hey!” you tried to shout to the gossiping pair escaping with your food, but the restaurant was so loud they were out the door before you could get your dinner back. If this were a normal night, it would’ve been a funny circumstance, something to laugh off, but your frayed nerves and empty stomach had you trembling all over again. Please, don’t let me have a breakdown in public, please please…

“...and whatever this babe had, add that on.”

A leather-clad hand landed on your shoulder as you heard a silky voice caress your ears. You turned to see a young punk with angelic features and curly mullet. Topaz brown eyes drew you in, sparkling from the smirk that seemed all too natural to the guy’s features.

"You don't have to-" you began to say. Suddenly your voice felt very loud and it was then you realized the whole dining room had gone quiet. Everyone stared at you- or rather, they stared at your generous new friend, who had yet to take his hand off your shoulder.

"Not a problem, angel," he winked at you. You felt yourself turn red, as if he was repeating your thoughts about him. “But that pretty blush is thanks enough.”

The heat of your face and the prickling feeling of jealous eyes on your skin made you look down. It wasn’t like you didn’t get flirted with back home, but it had been a while since it really affected you. Maybe it was your already heightened emotions, or the audience your paramour had amassed…

You swiped your takeout as soon as it touched the counter. “Thanks, but it really wasn’t necessary. It’s not like it was your fault.”

“Well…” he drawled out, playfully biting the leather knuckle of his glove with a devil-may-care smirk. “It might be my fault, in a way.”

“Oh?”

“They’re all trying to get out of here and catch the show,” he explained, grabbing a ridiculously large carton of boxes. “Aren’t you?”

“Uh, no, I-I just got into town. I’m…” you hesitated, not wanting to kill his good mood. “I’m visiting some old friends.”

He suddenly pouted, looking quite like a kicked puppy despite his badass exterior. "Aw, and here I was hoping I'd see you in the audience. I could always use a lovely volunteer."

Oh. Definitely wasn't just the setting that phased you. You were definitely enjoying his flirtations.

No, no, bad brain, you chastised yourself. You're just weak from the grief. Red flags all around.

"Well, if you need something to take that sad look in your eyes away…" he produced what looked like a theater ticket from his chaps. "Come see me."

The ticket was red and gold with fanciful black lettering, proclaiming it belonged to a VIP visitor for a one-night showing of...

"'Cirque de Praeteritus?'" You read aloud. Soft gasps sounded around you, clearly envious of what you'd been given. Whispers and hisses passed amongst the crowd, and it didn't take a genius to realize what they were about. "I can't accept this, it's very generous and I don't think I can-"

"Bring your friends, if you want," he said over his shoulder as he made his way out of the restaurant, clearly ignoring your words. But he paused and looked back at you with a wicked gleam in his eyes. "Just don't bring a date."

"But I- I don't-" you fumbled for some excuse, "I don't even know your name."

He laughed, throwing back his head and showing off his dazzling smile. "It's Marko, angel."

And with another wink, he was gone.

~

The boardwalk gleamed in your rearview mirror as you drove up the winding hills, all the while mentally bracing yourself for reuniting with the Emersons. They had been your second family your entire childhood, before…

You couldn't bring yourself back to that day. It was too horrible to remember, and it made guilt eat away at you like a parasite. The way Lucy had called you with such hope… you weren't even sure she knew the entire story of what happened.

It wouldn't surprise you if Michael never told her or Sam. He was always like that, carrying the heavy things on his own, refusing to let anyone else help. Even you… especially you.

Horses grazed the field surrounding the house, and various windchimes decorated the porch. It was peaceful, deceptively so, being so close to the chaos and bright lights of the boardwalk.

You stepped out of your car and shivered at the surprisingly cold sea air. In the slight night breeze the chimes of the house danced, but the sound was… strange. You could have sworn it was like someone laughing on the wind. Looking around, there was nothing around but the trees that surrounded the home… and the giant wooden spikes. Huh.

You took a step up on the porch, but a sudden strong gust put you off-balance. Your hair whipped around your head, blinding you for just a moment.

Angel...

The window shutters rattled as you got back on your feet, gripping the railing for dear life. Had you really just heard…?

Wind pushed at you again, and you swore the laughing was right at your ear.

Hey, angel!

You jerked around to see who was there and… nothing. Just leaves tumbling their way down the drive. Your heart drummed against your chest as the wind died.

Maybe I do need to do something fun… you thought to yourself.

The door crashed open with a bang and you held back a yelp as you faced an old man in a leather apron and a headlamp.

"Waitin' on an invitation?" He asked with a strange, suspicious scowl.

"Um… no- I-"

"Hey, Grandpa, who's-" a familiar voice called your name with a squeak, and a hurricane of brightly colored clothes ambushed you in a hug.

"Sammy?" You laughed, unable to help yourself from being sucked into his cheerful energy. "When'd you get so tall?"

Sam pulled back with a great big grin. "Knew you wouldn't even recognize me."

"How could I not, Sambo?" you joked, punching him lightly on the arm. "You're still the same old Sammy whose diapers I helped change."

"No you didn't!" He snorted as he pulled you inside. "I, um… see you met Grandpa."

The old Emerson's eyes still appraised you as he retreated into a room off the den, completely lit with red lights.

"Texas Chainsaw Massacre, much?" You whispered to Sam.

"That's what I said!"

The two of you dissolved into laughter as he dragged you towards the kitchen, where an amazing smell was emanating. "Wow, what's cooking-"

A soft voice said your name, like a blanket wrapping around you. You turned, melancholy sweeping the room. "Hi, Lucy."

She glided to you, embracing you tightly. She hadn't changed a bit, even the scent of her favorite perfume clinging to her was wonderfully familiar. You could feel her trembling just a bit, a slight sob caught in her throat.

"It's gonna be okay, Lucy," you whispered to her despite how hopelessness also nipped at your heels. "I promise, we'll be okay."

~

Dinner was delicious, making you completely forget about the Chinese food still sitting forgotten in your car. Catching up with Sammy, it was like no time had passed at all. It even brought a smile to Lucy's face, seeing the two of you catch up. You did notice that Grandpa Emerson, however, never came out from his strange red room again.

Though Sammy did explain the room was for taxidermy. The horror movie comparisons continued thusly.

Eventually you did address the elephant in the room as Lucy brought out ice cream for you all to dig into. She swore up and down that nothing strange had happened, nothing odd that Michael spoke of.

"He knows about… about my runaway days. Both of the boys know, even you know. He knew- knows he could always come to me with troubles like that…"

"He was… having troubles?"

Lucy paused, settling a shaky hand over her mouth. "I mean he was… a little off. I just assumed with the move, and the divorce, he needed time to adjust and I…" she stopped, as if realizing something important. "He told me I wouldn't understand. Oh, God… I should've pressed harder, I should have…"

You restlessly paced in the living room, wondering what Michael kept from Lucy. Your own guilt kept you from saying anything, unable to help from wondering if this was all your fault, and you wished you could tell Lucy that without being terrified she'd throw you out of the house. You would, after all.

I can't do this. You were going insane walking and worrying in circles, the walls were closing in. Maybe a distraction would be good.

You trekked up the stairs, knowing Sam would have some comics you could get lost in until you could sleep. Luckily the door was already slightly ajar.

"Hey, Sammy, could I-" you began as you stepped in, only to see a perfectly made bed in a spotless room. In the corner stood a set of weights, and a motorcycle care magazine sat on the nightstand.

Oh… this was Michael's room.

You didn't want to disturb what was clearly set up in expectation for him to return, but despite all the time that had passed between you everything about this space screamed the Michael you knew and… loved.

A leather jacket hung from the door. Since when did Mike wear leather jackets, you wondered. You couldn't help but run your fingers over it. It was still brand-new, barely worn at all. Without thinking about it too much, you slipped it from the hook and held it close. Tears sprung to your ears when you realized it carried his scent: motor oil and cologne.

Knees gave out and you sank to the floor, wrapping the jacket around yourself as you cried, cried until there was nothing else inside of you.

As your sobs finally subsided, you trembled from the emotional exhaustion. You slipped your hands in the pockets to pull the jacket, the closest thing you had to Mike's embrace, even closer.

And your hand brushed against something… paper. A note, maybe?

You quickly yanked it out, only to find a strangely familiar ticket.

One VIP guest, for Cirque de Praeteritus.

Fucking tease, you bit back, knowing Marko would only prolong the torture if you got mouthy. As if he could read your mind, his fangs nipped at the spot behind your ear, making you jump. His cock twitched inside you and his nails dug into your thighs.

"Fuck!" You gasped, and your body tried in vain to grind down onto him, earning you a swift smack to the most sensitive part of your inner thigh.

Marko tutted at you. "You promised you would be good while I had my dinner. Do I need to punish you instead?"

You couldn't help the needy whine that escaped you. This was his favorite way to feed from you: having you cockwarm him while he teased at your neck until you were begging him for something, anything, and more than anything he loved to draw it out.

You hated it. You loved it. It drove you crazy every single time.

So you did your best to relax back into Marko's chest, the embellishments on his jacket cutting into your skin. But you were pouting the entire time.

"That's it, good little slut," he mumbled into you. His grin against your flesh was all teeth, ready to devour. "I know you like a little bit of pain, but right now I just wanna taste you." As if to emphasize his words, he sucked at a particularly sensitive area until it was certain to bruise, making you squeak.

"Marko- come on, please-"

"Please, Marko, please?" he mocked right back at you. "You're so cute when you beg for me. Do it some more." And he snuck his hand down to tease at where you were joined. You arched your back with a cry, trying to chase the pleasure he kept just out of reach. "Beg me cute enough and I'll take a bite. I know you love how it feels when I'm inside you and you start to get all hazy, like a dumb little sex doll. Go ahead, baby, tell me how much you need it."

"Please, please, please Marko!" You were ready to start sobbing at this point, your body dancing right on the edge. "Bite me, drink from me, fuck me, anything you fucking tease- ah!"

Fangs tore into your neck and you groaned in ecstacy. Marko finally began to thrust up into you as he drank, and it wasn't long until you were tumbling over your peak and seeing white. The combination of your blood running down his throat and your orgasm squeezing his cock had him following right along with you.

When you blinked back to reality, you realized you were laughing breathily from the high as Marko lapped up his leftovers. You pulled yourself off him to get ready for some serious snuggle time, but he yanked you right back down to his lap with force. Once more, you felt smiling fangs against your skin.

You notice it the next several times he fucks you. He's always liked finishing inside you, but now it seems to be his top priority

And Ace isn't shy about talking dirty right into your ear, growling about how good you feel and what all he's gonna do with you. So when he starts with "Yeah, doll, I'm gonna cum inside of ya, fucking milk me baby-" it's totally new

But damn if it isn't super hot to you

The first couple of times, if any of his cum drips out of you, he pushes it right back into you. You think it's a possessive thing at first, but then he starts leaving his cock inside of you to keep you plugged

You're totally joking when you say, "Ace, you trying to get me pregnant or something?"

It's the only time you've ever seen Ace speechless. If you're not mistaken, you think you catch a bit of a blush

His kink quickly becomes yours. How can it not? Every time he fucks you, he promises to knock you up, to make you his pretty little housewife, barefoot and pregnant in the kitchen. He's gonna mark you with his seed in your womb and you'll be his girl forever

Ace is a tits man already, but once he actively starts trying to get you pregnant it's amped up to ten. He paws at your breasts constantly

"I can't wait to see these perfect tits get all big and swollen, doll face. I bet they're gonna be so fuckin' sensitive, you gonna let me play with them?"

And when you actually get pregnant? God you might have to beg him to leave your tits alone.

He will for sure try your milk. Taste aside, it gets him hard instantly. Normally he prides himself on his stamina, but that's the closest he gets to cumming in his pants

Dwayne was probably the romantic partner you'd ever had. He was all gentlemanly courting, soft kisses and slow, intense lovemaking. You adored it, but he also had a tendency to be an unnecessary mother hen when it came to you. So when he said that they'd all been 'feeding from you too much' lately and that it was 'probably time for you to take a break' you weren't at all happy. And apparently you didn't get a vote in the group.

So while they hunted for dinner you waited in your own little alcove of the cave, listening to old vinyls in a crop top you stole from Marko and cute undies you were planning to show off tonight, face squished into a pillow.

You would never admit it to Dwayne, but you were incredibly tired tonight. You rationalized that it hopefully probably had nothing to do with the blood loss, but you were drifting off to sleep already as Elvis crooned in the background.

Wise men say, "only fools rush in"

But I can't help

Falling in love with you

The bed shifted underneath you and the blanket slipped off, making you reach for it in a dazed state until a large, soft hand met yours.

"Hi, sleeping beauty."

"Dwayne?" You mumbled, still half asleep, and you moved to sit up until he guided you back down.

"No, no, just relax," he cooed at you, rubbing soothing circles on your lower back. "I know you weren't happy when I had you stay behind. But I wanna make it up to you, since you were such a good girl. Okay?"

"O...kay…" You were far too tired to respond fully, but you smiled a dopey smile when you felt plush lips press to the back of your neck.

Long hair tickled down your spine as Dwayne kissed every inch of exposed skin that your crop top didn't cover. Normally you would be squirming like crazy, but right now you were so tired that your body just reveled in the attention. You purred at the kisses he lavished your waist with, then your hips, then the backs of your thighs…

"Ah-h…" you gasped as Dwayne's tongue swiped against your undies. "Ah…"

"Mm, these are cute," he mumbled, nosing at your inner thigh and teasing the sensitive skin with his teeth.

"Wanted t' show off…"

"I love them. But I'm gonna take 'em off, okay?" Calloused hands tugged your panties down your legs and you felt cool air against your dripping pussy. "There's my pretty baby. Lift up your hips a little for me."

Dwayne laid down on his back, guiding your thighs to either side of his head and your hips hovering above his face.

"Dwayne…" you whined.

"Shh, let me make you feel good."

Shall I stay

Would it be a sin

If I can't help

Falling in love with you

He lowered your hips and covered your sex with his mouth, and his clever tongue lapped at your clit.

You were gasping already at his ministrations. Dwayne was amazing with his tongue, dexterous and always able to find your sweet spots with ease. His oral style was drawn-out and intense; it would build up to a mind melting orgasm that left you shaky and incoherent.

What made it even better was Dwayne's deep rumbling moans against you, and the way he'd pull back to tease and whisper filthy adorations to you.

"Fuck, you taste so good, baby. The boys and I had such a good dinner tonight, but I made sure I'd be the one to come back and have your sweet pussy for dessert. You're all mine until the sun comes up."

Your nails dug into the pillow and you tried to gasp out his name between moans.

"I know, baby, I know. Cum for me, let me fucking taste you."

It didn't take much after that. Your sleepy brain lapped at his words and your body followed suit. He kept his mouth on you the entire time to ride you through it, groaning at your nectar flowing onto his tongue. You flopped boneless onto the pillow and Dwayne crawled up to cuddle.

"Give me a minute and I'll…" you cut off with a yawn. "Do… something for ya…"

"Uh, uh. Get some sleep."

"But you said-"

You wanted to laugh, but your tired body only wheezed lamely. "You're not scary… teddy bear…"

"You're mine til sunrise. And I want you to get some sleep." His words were firm, but his kisses against your shoulder were soft. "Your big scary vampire boyfriend demands it."

You felt more than heard his rumbling chuckle where his chest pressed against you. As you drifted further into sleep, you could feel him humming along to the record.

Take my hand

Take my whole life too

For I can't help

Lose your mind, lose it now

Lose your clothes in the crowd

But they would come, eventually. Right then, you were gonna let the music take you. The heat of the bonfire next to you made your skin glow. Your hips swayed with the beat, your hands glided into the air. You felt powerful. You felt sexy.

Apparently someone agreed. You felt eyes on you and drawn to see who they belonged to, your eyes found deep sea blue.

Your admirer was a glam rock punk type in tight leather pants that left nothing to the imagination and a mesh tee. A lion's mane of curls tumbled down his back and a careless smirk seemed to permanently decorate his features.

You found yourself smirking right back, almost daring him to come over. The invitation was sent, and your eyes went back to the stage to get lost in ecstasy again.

We're delirious, tear it down

Til the sun comes back around

But hands suddenly landed on your tips, gentle but playful and pulling you back into a tall, lean form clad in leather.

"Hey."

"That was fast," you teased, peeking up at him through your lashes. He was even sexier up close, ocean blue eyes blown with want and an apparent high, given the smell of cannabis that lingered on him. You found that you didn't mind it as your perfect stranger played with the sensitive skin above your hips. "Did you run over or something?"

"Long legs, pretty baby," he quipped right back. "Besides, I go after what I want."

You hummed, letting a hand drift up to play with his curls. "So do I."

And now we're getting so smashed

Knocking over trash cans

Everybody breaking bottles

It's a filthy hot mess

"I love this song," you purred as the beat picked back up. Your hips began to twist on their own but like water, your new companion flowed with you.

"Me too. Makes me feel like fucking something." You could hear the smirk in his voice and his own hips pressed into yours.

Jackpot.

The tight leather covering his legs perfectly hugged his bulge which was now grinding against your ass. Shit, he was big. Perhaps not the thickest, but damn if he isn't long.

It made your blood overheat. You draped yourself back against him and closed your eyes to lose yourself in him and the music. Plush lips teased at your neck and wandering musician's hands roamed your waist, sometimes brushing down to your hips or up to your ribs.

There's a place downtown

Where the freaks will come around

It's a hole in the wall

It's a dirty free for all

The heat of your stranger's body against yours and of the bonfire was making you light-headed, as if you were going mad in the most pleasurable way possible. His hand slipped into the back pocket of your jeans to feel the curve of your ass and you couldn't help but moan for him.

"You like that, baby?" Soft lips turned into a playful bite against your neck, making you squeal and giggle. "I like you, baby. Prettiest thing on the boardwalk."

Fuck, you couldn't keep yourself from kissing him, depsite knowing nothing about him. You were craving him like you craved air. A slight tug on his hair made him groan and in a beat his mouth was on yours. Your tongues danced, and damn, he even tasted sexy. You could taste booze, the slight lingering of cannabis, and a strange metallic twinge you couldn't name. But you wanted more.

And they turn me on

When they take it off

When they take it off

Everybody take it off

Your heart pounded with the closing beats of the song and you found yourself emerging from your trance. Like a newborn horse trying to walk, you slumped, right against your stranger with a satisfied sigh. "Thanks for the dance, um..."