#tlb dwayne

i mean, just LOOK at our beautiful gay vampire family. im so ecstatic for them.

Lost boy x GN! Reader

A/n: This one started out as a Paul fic. I wrote it with him in mind. But then I realized that it's generalized enough that you could imagine any of the other boys in there too, hence the Lost boy x Reader pairing. Based on this idea that I posted a while back.

Word count: 1k

Summary: You like to keep your windows open on balmy summer nights. Soon you discover that someone keeps visiting you while you sleep.

There were few things that you loved more than the serenity of summer nights. They always held a strange kind of magical feeling. Even as a child, you couldn’t help but be enchanted by them. The freedom from school, the long daylight that painted the sky stunning shades of pink and orange as it slowly turned into night, the balmy breeze that snuck in through your open window, gently swaying your curtains and bringing with it the distant cheer of the Boardwalk, the salty smell of the ocean and the scent of something that was undeniably and incomprehensibly summer.

When you were younger, you used to daydream about getting a visit from some otherworldly being during these twilight hours when reality seemed just a tad less tangible. As a child, you imagined a fairy appearing in your open window, winking at you and inviting you to some great adventure into another world. When you reached your teenage years, your daydreams took on a more romantic hue, dreaming about some dashing creature stepping into your room, taking your hand and taking you away from all your problems.

It was a fantasy that kept you company for years, and even now as a young adult, when most of your thoughts consisted of more down to earth issues, you couldn’t help but wonder sometimes. About what might be out there, at the edges of human reality.

Perhaps that’s why you still kept your window open on warm summer nights.

Perhaps that’s why you weren’t alarmed when you found one of your tapes on your bedside table when you were certain you left it on your desk next to your radio.

Of course, you chalked it up to forgetfulness. Because that’s what people do when they encounter something out of the ordinary. But in the back of your mind you heard that tiny voice of ‘what if’.

And it kept happening. It was small stuff at first; a photo frame slightly out of place, some little gadgets and decorations ending up on the other side of the room, a tape or CD going missing and turning up a few days later at a place you could have sworn you’ve checked. It seemed like whoever – or whatever – this was, they had a real interest in your music taste.

You started referring to ‘it’ as a person when it became clear that this wasn’t just a sudden bout of absent-mindedness. And that was after you found a boot print on your rug. 

Oddly enough, the discovery didn’t alarm you. You knew that if it was them since that first little sign, if it was the same someone visiting you almost every night, they had plenty of opportunity to hurt you. Yet, they didn’t.

So you kept your window open. And they kept coming back.

You were starting to anticipate them, always looking through your room the next morning with curiosity, searching for a sign that they’ve been there. You tried staying up late more than once in the hopes of catching whoever your midnight visitor was, but they always seemed to know.

Sometimes you would wake in the early hours of the morning to the curious sensation that you were not alone in your room. You would feel the tingle of eyes watching you from the dark. But even though you were a bit unnerved, the chills running down your spine were never because of fear.

Sometimes, when your mind drifted between sleep and consciousness, you felt phantom fingers playing with your hair or caressing your cheek. And you wouldn’t know it, but you leaned into their touch every time.

Then one night, you were jolted awake by a loud crash. You heard snarling and growling coming from somewhere in your room, and when you sat up, heart beating out of your chest, you could just about make out two dark shapes struggling and rolling on the floor by the pale moonlight. You clutched your blanket in fear, your body instinctively getting ready to run if you needed to. After a few terrifying seconds, you watched as one of them broke away from the other and fled through your open window. Your second floor open window.

Sudden movement snapped your attention back to the one still in your room and your breath caught in your throat when you saw yellow eyes glowing in the dark. They were fixed right at you, assessing you. For a long moment you stared at one another, the silence filling with a strange sense of familiarity that your conscious mind couldn’t place. Then you blinked, and you were alone once again, the soft rustle of clothes gone with the wind.

For a few nights after your terrifying encounter, your room remained untouched. There was no sign of your nocturnal visitor, and you couldn’t help the feeling of sadness and disappointment when you woke up in the morning and everything was where it should be. When you awoke in the middle of the night, there were no watchful eyes on you, no fleeting touch of phantom fingers on your skin. You thought they might never come back. You thought they had abandoned you. In moments of deep loneliness, you deluded yourself into thinking you’ve imagined it all. Even though you’ve never properly met them, their presence has become a comforting constant in your life. Now you just felt alone.

Then come one morning, you found a small present on your bedside table, a beaded bracelet you were positive you didn’t own. It came with a note.

He wasn’t one of us. He wanted to hurt you. But he won’t bother you again.

At the end, there was a name. And you just knew it was from him, the one with the yellow eyes.

The next night, you stayed awake, waiting for him. An hour after sundown, there was a sound coming from outside, a voice calling for you. When you leaned out your window, there he was looking up at you, eyes glowing in the dark. Then the shadows shifted, and he was joined by three others.

“Can we come in?” he asked.

Your heart fluttered. As your lips formed around a ‘yes’, you knew you weren’t abandoned. You knew you would never be alone again.

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"I walked all alone, for a long century

Summary: You get injured in a fight and the boys take care of you (although David isn’t exactly best pleased)

Pairing: female reader x The Lost Boys

Warnings: Fluff, slight angst, mentions of blood

‘Careful, I’m bleeding!’ you warned them, keeping your distance as you walked away from the commotion on the beach.

‘Yeah, no shit,’ said Paul with one of his usual laughs.

Dwayne wrapped an arm around your waist from behind you and pressed a kiss on the top of your head. ‘It’s okay, baby. We’ve just fed.’

You still felt him inhale your scent.

David, who had just lit himself a cigarette, walked up to you and caressed your cheek. There was no trace of gentleness in that touch. It was controlled but rough and possessive at the same time. You winced when he let the smoke out onto your face, followed by a long sigh.

‘How do you always manage to get into trouble, dove? What started it, this time?’ 

But before you even had a chance to reply and explain yourself, his tone became harsher.