#tlb fandom

And maybe there’s a part of you that thrives on the setting sun because of what it means. 

Visitors. 

You’re pretty sure they don’t come to the store unless it’s one of the nights you’re working. A while back, you worked a shift with Max, a rare occasion in and of itself, and the boys came in, immediately getting into it with him. You’d tried to mind your own business, but it was clear Max didn’t want them in his establishment. It sounded to you like they came looking for trouble with him, like they had some vendetta against him. They seem to have given that up as of late. 

The idea that they come in now just to see you makes you warm all over, though it probably shouldn’t. It probably shouldn’t excite you that much—the prospect of them visiting you. Of him visiting you. If even one of them appears, it means he’s nearby. You’ve got a soft spot for all four of them, but it’s David that invades your thoughts at night. David that makes your stomach flip with a single look.

The sound of static interrupts your thoughts. The tape playing over the shop tvs has run out. You set it to rewind while you look for something else to pop in. When you got hired, Max emphasized the importance of always having a movie on. He even has a curated list of what to play and when. Something about outreach, or whatever. You’ve chosen not to question him. Frankly, you don’t feel the most comfortable around him, but his shifts tend to start when yours end, keeping your interactions to a minimum. 

The boys are silent when they come in. Somehow their boots don’t make any noise and their smiles never morph into full blown laughs. But the air shifts, like they’ve been carried in on an unnatural breeze. You wonder if anyone else feels the change, or if it’s just for you. 

A flurry of curly hair works its way into your line of sight. 

“Hi, Marko,” you say. 

He sets his elbows on the counter and grins, flashing his teeth at you. “Hey, gorgeous.” 

You mirror his stance and smile back. He doesn’t say anything more, leaving the both of you to stare at each other. This seems to please him. You notice how pink his cheeks get when he’s happy. He’s like a kid in a candy shop–no matter where he is. 

You scoot the jar of lollipops towards him. “I used to think you came in here to see me, but maybe it’s just for the free sugar.”

“Oh, I’ll give you some free sugar.” Paul presses his lips to the crown of your head, making you laugh. Marko puts a green sucker in his mouth. Paul practically throws himself across the counter, bare stomach to the glass, and rips a piece of paper from where it was taped up by your hip. You guffaw. His eyes crinkle as he scans the sheet. 

“You get off at 9:30? Good, you can come out with us then.”

You roll your eyes. Paul tries to steal you away every time he visits (so, multiple times a week). You’d let him if you didn’t still have all your morals intact–he’s too cute for his own good. Truth be told, you’re kind of afraid of the trouble he’d undoubtedly get you into.

Dwayne materializes. “You know she won’t,” he says to Paul. He blows a bubble with his gum and pops it. He jerks the paper out of Paul’s hand and gives it back to you, a dark chunk of hair falling over his face so that it’s cupping his cheek. “Been dealing with assholes like you all day.” He shoots you a wink.

A boy, probably no older than eleven, walks up to the checkout desk, peering up at you hesitantly. Dwayne grabs the shoulders of his friends and pulls them away. You notice though that he keeps his dark eyes on you, surveilling. You give the kid a friendly smile as you scan his tape and enter his information into the computer. He yaps about how many phone numbers he has memorized and then rattles off about how he’s gonna have a killer sleepover with his friends and watch this movie and none of them will get scared at all. He’s sweet. You pass him a few stickers before he heads out. 

The boys are wandering throughout the store now, two of them looking for an adult section no doubt. You save the kid’s profile in the system and close the cash register with your hip. You gaze back up. Dwayne juts his chin out to the side, signaling, and you catch platinum blonde in your peripheral vision. 

“Hi, David.” 

He doesn’t say anything, only walks until he’s standing directly in front of you, gaze intent. You take a moment to look him over. His gloved hands rest on the counter in the space between the two of you. He’s the kind of pretty that feels wrong to admire for too long. But that makes you want to even more. There’s a cigarette tucked behind his ear, and you can see a sliver of metal where a necklace rests under the layers of his clothing. His lips are flushed a dark pink. 

He smirks at you now. “Didn’t your mother ever teach you that it’s not nice to stare?” 

You’re one to talk, you think. He arches a brow. He heard that.

You keep looking at him, waiting to see where the rest of this conversation goes. He’s much less talkative than the rest of his posse, but you’re unsure as to whether that’s always the case. Behind him, Marko and Paul are giggling like this interaction is the highlight of their night. David’s mouth keeps opening just slightly, like he’s about to say something but is psyching himself out.

He licks his lips and the grabs for the cigarette behind his ear, twirling it between his fingers. Is he nervous? 

“You, uh, you got plans after this?” 

Oh, he’s so nervous. 

You look at your watch and smile. “Well, I’ll probably go home and get in bed, maybe find something to eat…why, did you have something else in mind, David?”

A hand comes over David’s shoulder and he might as well have flinched. Marko is bouncing with excitement. “What’re we talking about over here, kids?” He looks back and forth between you both and bites his lip, clearly containing a cackle. Marko sees David’s hand form a fist, but it’s fine–he knows David won’t beat his ass in front of a pretty girl. At least not right now. 

You grin at Marko and David’s nostrils flare. “I think David wants me to come out with you guys.” 

“Oh, so you’ll come out if he asks but not me?” Paul chimes in, accusatory. “That’s cold. Ice fuckin’ cold, babe.” He crosses his arms and pouts. You scrunch your nose at him and the pout disappears.

“Technically,” you start, “he hasn’t asked me anything yet. I think it’s because you guys won’t stop fucking with him.”

That makes Dwayne chuckle and suddenly your ego has grown two sizes. You’ve never had the privilege of making Mr. Broody laugh. When you look back at David, you can tell that’s pissed him off. Something he emanates must tell the other boys to back away, because they do. You watch Dwayne walk slowly out to his bike, smirking at you when he straddles the seat. 

“You don’t work until late tomorrow,” David states. His eyes flick to your watch and back to you. “Your shift ended four minutes ago. Come out with us. It’s not like I’m gonna kidnap you.”

“We might!” Marko and Paul shout.

You smile at David and it does strange things to his insides. Ah, you think. Nothing like an asshole friend group to sober a man up. 

You step out from behind the counter and offer David your hand. He takes it in his gloved one and tugs you outside. “It was about time you guys left anyway,” you say. “Max has your pictures in the breakroom with ‘BANNED’ written in red ink. Probably would’ve busted your asses if he’d seen you.”

Marko’s head whips toward you from where he’s perched on his bike. “Wait, seriously?” You just grin at him. 

“No, you fuckin’ moron,” Paul whines, “she’s yankin’ your chain. Ever hear of a joke?” Their bickering is drowned out when David’s eyes lock on yours and he sets a hand on your waist, encouraging you to hop on the motorcycle behind him. 

“Watch your step,” he mutters. Something in his tone warms your face and the smug look on his face says he knows. You brace yourself on his shoulders and straddle the bike, snaking your hands around the front of him until they’re settled on his stomach. You’ve had your hands on him for literal seconds and you know then that’ll you’ll probably never get enough of him, no matter where this goes. 

You tilt your head just so, aligning yourself with his line of sight. Your noses are inches from each other. Looking at him so closely makes you falter. His eyelashes are so long and he’s got a cupids bow that you’re dying to kiss. A spark of anger flashes in your chest, like he’s so perfect that it makes you upset. “You always let them get to you so easily?” you ask after a moment. 

He huffs a laugh. “Not usually.” He straightens and starts the bike. “You’re just too damn pretty. It’s fuckin’ with me.”

Those are the words he leaves you with as the noise accompanying the boardwalk drifts away from your ears. You have no idea where you’re going, but your veins bubble with joy. This is another experience that should probably be unsettling you. You turn your head to either side of where you and David are sandwiched between the rest of the boys. Marko smiles so wide. Paul gives you a familiar look, like this is something he knew you’d be a part of at some point. Dwayne has this grin on his face that communicates how you’re feeling, like this is fucking wild, but it’s wild and wonderful. As for David, each time you grip his coat a little harder, you can feel his shoulders shake with laughter. 

The group reaches a particularly sandy part of the journey and you press your nose to David’s back, shielding yourself. He leans back slightly, straightening his spine protectively. Your chest squeezes when you notice that, at some point, you closed the space between the two of you. Not that there was much to begin with–you are on a motorcycle–but now your inner thighs are pressed to the backs of his, and there’s not a centimeter of torso that isn’t connected. You like touching him.

You’ve reached a stretch of land that’s totally dark, which makes it feel miles away from civilization. That doesn’t last long, splotches of orange and red appearing–bonfires scattered all along the beach. Music comes from somewhere, screeching from somewhere else. 

David helps you off the bike, holding a hand out in case you need to be steadied. He gets off, but he stays resting against it. You watch as he pulls out a cigarette, the flame dancing between you both for just a moment before the lighter shuts with a clink. 

You look around. “Where’d the boys go?” you ask, a hint of confusion in your voice. “You didn’t bring me out here to eat me, did you?”

David smirks. “Do I seem like the type?”

“It’s hard to tell. Probably depends on what kind of mood you’re in.”

Smoke trails out of his nostrils and your low belly warms. His gaze leaves your face and stops somewhere over your shoulder. You see the two blondes off in the sand, well out of earshot. “Marko’s been trying to catch a crab. Thinks he needs a pet.”

That statement, paired with the way David deadpans it, makes you laugh. The sound gets a genuine smile out of him. Somehow it changes everything. 

“And Dwayne…” he continues, “he’s been hungry all night. Probably split.”

You choose not to respond to that. David is shrouded in orange light. It makes his teeth shine, his eyes glint. It makes you think he’s not made to be seen by the sun–not when the night hugs him like it does. Your eyes are glued to where the cigarette sits between his lips. You know he sees it. You don’t care. If it were possible, you’d drink him.

“It’s easier to flirt with you when they’re not around.” 

He exhales and the smoke blows around you. His hand reaches out, pulling at your hip to get you closer. 

“They just point out how fun you are to tease.” 

His fingers slide through your belt loops. “I’m glad you enjoy handing me my ass.” You let out a sound that he takes as a laugh. 

“Do you ever take those gloves off, David?”

If your question phases him, his face doesn’t show it. “Sometimes.” His cig is almost finished.

“I mean, I get it as part of the look and everything, or if it’s a motorcycle thing…but they kinda suck.”

He smiles at you around his cigarette. Your gaze remains on his hand when he drags it away, resting his forearm across the handlebars and flicking the last bit of ash from the tip. “They suck, huh?”

“Can’t blame a girl for wanting to hold hands, can you?”

David removes his hand from your hip and sticks it out in front of you, palm up. He flicks the cigarette butt off to the side and gives you his full attention. His legs part, beckoning you closer. Your heart rate kicks up just a little before you pull at the leather covering the tips of his fingers. The gloves are nice–snug where they should be, worn where he’s gripped countless things. You work one off and discover they’ve got a real soft lining too. Not exactly suede, but something like it. He sets the pair in his lap after you’ve removed both of them. His hands are pretty. Well cared for. Something cracks through you, like him having given you his hands so easily is significant. You drag your thumbs lightly over his knuckles. Your insides melt. 

“What’s that look for?” David asks. You hadn’t realized you were smiling. 

“Just glad I came out with you guys tonight.”

He scoffs, but it’s not mean. “Only took me a century to ask you.”

“Do I make you nervous?” you ask, already knowing the answer. 

“Fuck’s sake. Started to think you might like Paul more.”

That makes you chuckle. “He’s sweet. Real cute, too.”

“Oh, thanks then. Means a lot.”

“I’m just kidding! He is sweet. You’re…different. Like cocky in a way that it makes me want to beat your ass and then kiss you right after.” David’s face is blank. He might be recalculating. You give him a minute.

“See, it’s unfair because I’m not usually so bad at this.”

“At flirting?” He makes an expression that is equivalent to drawing a face that has straight lines for its eyes and mouth. “And why do you think that is? That you’re suddenly such a shit flirt?”

David inhales and stands up. His chest brushes yours and he towers over you. It should be scary. Instead it makes something stir from deep inside you. 

“Because I don’t wanna eat you.”

You blink. “...Bummer?”

David brings his hand to cup your cheek and rather than flinching, you lean into his touch. His eyes are alight, more intense than you’ve seen. His thumb rests at the corner of your mouth.

“I wanna keep you around.”

“This is so romantic.”

David tosses his head back, spine bowing away from you. He misses the way you look at him, with this glint in your eye–part a reflection from the various campfires, part pure wonder. When he returns to you, there’s a light blush blooming on his cheeks. You take the hand that’s resting on your face and sandwich it between your palms. You flip it over and drag your thumb over one of the lines there.  “Interesting. It says here that you should kiss me.”

“Oh, does it?”

You look back up at him. At the little smirk pulling the corner of his mouth up. 

“See, now that’s some good flirting, David. I knew you had it in you–,” you use your pointer finger and poke lightly at his chest, “–somewhere deep in there. You know for a man with such a bad boy rep–”

David’s mouth is on yours. He kisses how you expected: rough, like he can’t get enough of you and his only choice is to swallow you whole. He cups your head with his hand, fingers splayed across your scalp so that he can manipulate you however he wants. He shifts you this way and that, nips your bottom lip, uses his tongue to pry your mouth open but nothing more. Your eyes are still shut when he pops his open, wanting to see the pout on your face when he denies you that. His other hand rests at the small of your back and he digs his blunt nails into your skin just enough to get you to squeak. One of your palms slides up and over his throat, where it stays. He grabs hold of your wrist and presses his thumb to your pulse point. When he finally lets you breathe, he moves his mouth there, dragging his teeth over the veins in your arm. The air catches in your chest.

David walks you back against his motorcycle, coaxing you onto it. His chest is heaving.

“I’m gonna take you home now.”

You open your mouth to say something, but he beats you to it.

“And I’ll come get you tomorrow.”

————

There’s a shout of your name and Paul lunges for you, arms wrapping around your thighs. He spins you around and around, his blonde hair whipping you in the face. When he sets you down on the ledge around the collapsed fountain, you’re dizzy. 

“Jesus.” Dwayne’s voice comes from somewhere to your right. He looks at you with a gentle little smile on his face and helps you down. He turns to speak to Paul, though his hand remains on your hip in case you stumble. “Take it easy, man.” Dwayne lifts his fingers and flicks you gently on the nose. 

“Yeah, man, take it easy. It’s like she’s human or something,” Marko says, thumbnail tucked between his teeth. You grin at him and he blushes. You walk the few steps to him and he wraps his arms around your shoulders, swaying you both side to side. 

“It’s okay,” you respond. “I appreciate the enthusiasm.”

“You smell so good,” Paul says. “Like candy or somethin’.” Dwayne’s brows knit together as he gives Paul a look. 

“The rest of it’s in my bag,” you tell him, pointing to where David had set it down when you’d come in.

You swivel, eyes locking on David where he’s now sitting in a busted wheelchair, one leg thrown over the arm rest. You’d gone outside to meet him and his incessant revving. David had taken your jaw in his hand and kissed you fiercely. Somehow he knew what you were going to say. Too good for hello? One shake of his head had stopped you, a laugh on your lips. You hadn’t questioned where the boys were or where he was taking you. You’d gotten on his bike and trusted he’d take care of you. Now, the look on his face has you stumped. You find a place to sit near him. 

“Boys.” David’s voice garners their attention and three heads turn your way. They all have the same kind of look on their faces as David does. You don’t know what it means, but it’s clear they have a mutual understanding. You get that feeling again, like you should be scared. 

David’s hand stretches out toward an ornate looking bottle. Red glass peeking through interlocking rows and columns of metalwork and jewels. He rests his fingers on it but doesn’t pick it up. 

“I get the suspicion the four of you are up to no good.”

Paul snorts. “No way!”

Your gaze stays locked on David. You raise your brows, a silent warning. Let me have it. 

He says your name, once. Softly. “I meant it when I said I want to keep you around. I want you to be one of us. We want you to be one of us.”

You blink at him. Swallow a few times. “You wanna turn me into a vampire?”

“It’ll be fun,” Marko says. He drags out the words and adds a sing-song lilt to them. “We’ll keep you entertained. Won’t we Paul?”

“Sure will.” You glance at Dwayne and he nods, once. His eyes are dark and stern, giving you no room to doubt them.

David stands up then. He sets his hand on your cheek and the bottle next to you. You hadn’t noticed him pick it up. “You know I’ll take good care of you,” he whispers. “Help you learn the ropes. You’d never have to worry about anything ever again.” 

When David talks to you like this, you’re still aware of the other boys’ presence, but it’s like they occupy themselves with other things, like they shift away and it becomes this intimate moment between the two of you. It’s like if something changed and they needed to be gone, they would be. But they linger, patient.

David’s thumb swipes over your bottom lip. He doesn’t have to say it. You know that you’re his.

“You and me?” you ask anyway, voice quiet. 

He crouches in front of you, coaxing you forward until your foreheads touch. “Me and you.”

A spark of energy shotos down your spine at the prospect of being with him all the time, forever and ever. A grin stretches across your face. There’s no way to describe it other than mischievous. You set a hand on the side of David’s throat.

“I’ll think about it.”

————

note: none of the gifs or images i use are mine! i get most of my images from pinterest or here, and gifs from about the same. please let me know if i ever don’t credit someone properly!