#Paul tlb x reader

[sunkendreams]

kickstart my heart.

REQUEST SUBMITTED BY @darklylucid

“Paul’s always been flirty, and you’ve never really taken it seriously. After a minor incident on the boardwalk, Paul decides that he’ll make you take him seriously, one way or another.”

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆. | paul (the lost boys) x fem!reader.

𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐌𝐀𝐓. | one-shot — requested.

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓. | 6.8K.

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒. | SMUT (mdni), friends to lovers, jealous!paul, paul is really flirty/touchy, oral sex (f!receiving), spit as lube, choking (m!receiving), hair-pulling, paul is definitely a mess, dirty talk, pet names (baby, girl, sweet girl), cowgirl, vaginal sex, scratching, biting, bloodplay (he’s a vampire), breastplay (paul loves your tits), fingering, clothes ripping, groping, nasty sex, manhandling, paul isn’t gentle

𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑’𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄. | i’m back and literally going insane for the lost boys ,,, thank you to @darklylucid for requesting this !!! first time writing Paul and it was so, so much fun! dwayne is up next, so prepare yourselves for that! also working on a poly!lost boys x reader series ,,, so yeah!

A cloudless dusk fell over Santa Carla, sky littered with millions of stars that hung above, providing a rather attractive backdrop to a less-than-savory town. The boardwalk was more alive than ever — it transformed with nightfall, becoming a den of depravity and mystique, coupled with the liveliness of families and the carnival atmosphere.

You were situated atop a blanket, feet partially buried within the cool sand as you sat on the beach. A concert took place many feet away as you watched people clamor from the staircase to the growing crowd. The rancor of music reverberated throughout the air, accompanied by the cheering and applause from onlookers.

Saltwater lapped at the gray shoreline, moon hanging overhead to light the way. You always came to the boardwalk at night — you made plenty of friends, but you happened to have a peculiar bond with a pack of vampires. It wasn’t intentional — you never meant to befriend them like you had, but you didn’t regret a thing.

The familiar roar of motorbikes resonated in the near-distance, splitting past swarms of carnival-goers as they descended the steps. It never took very long for them to find you, bearing down upon you like a pack of hyenas.

Marko’s laughter filled the air as he and Dwayne pulled up along the terrace above you, parking their bikes next to the length of black grating. David and Paul followed suit, hauling Star and Laddie in-tow. You were more focused on the gleam of the moonlight hitting the water and the seashell you’d been turning over within your palm.

A thump resonated from your left side, and you nearly shrieked, jumping from your own flesh as Paul landed atop the blanket. He scooped a finger against your chin, plump lips pulled back to reveal his pearlescent smirk. A faint aroma of stale cologne and hints of marijuana clung to him, but that was commonplace.

“Hey baby,” Paul crooned, kicking one leg up against his chest as the rest of the boys lingered around the balcony, save for Marko. He descended from above like a cat leaping toward perch, landing in the sand with grace. His presence was intentional, solely to agitate Paul. “Where’ve you been?”

Paul’s constant flirtation was something that you were used to — painfully so. You always wrote it off as something casual, a facet deeply ingrained into his wild and spontaneous personality. Paul often flirted with anyone that had a pulse and smelled appeasing, and that included you. It was fun to watch, but sometimes you wished that he meant it.

With a huff, you attempted to swat his hand away, but he was swift, arm resting atop his propped knee as he idly bounced his head to the music. “I’ve been here,” You mused, offering a kind greeting to Marko. “Where else am I supposed to be?” You inquired, tracing the pad of your thumb over the seashell’s ridges.

Paul’s nose wrinkled slightly. “I can think of a few places,” He mused, plucking at the top of your blouse. “You gonna come down tonight?” He asked, referring to you joining them in the cave. You normally went there with the group if they were satiated and fed. You were still human, after all — being in a nest full of vampires probably wasn’t the safest or smartest idea.

“Maybe,” You shrugged, feeling Paul perch his chin atop your shoulder. The physical aspect of his flirting always made your heart race, thrumming just underneath your collarbone. Your gaze flickered toward him, brows furrowing together. “What?”

“Please?” Paul insisted, lips twitching into a Cheshire smirk, teeth and all. “Wanna hang out with you.” Of all the pack, you were closest to Paul, but sometimes, you didn’t want to be. His constant touching and lascivious nature often left you wistful and confused, aching for something that he couldn’t give you.

“Don’t listen to him,” Marko interjected, busy ogling a wandering group of beachgoers — a gaggle of younger women hanging off of the arms of burly men. It smelled like potential dinner for him. “He found a guitar.” That was all you needed to know.

A giggle escaped you as Paul threw a handful of sand toward Marko, which happened to land against his patchwork jacket and golden curls. His visage contorted into a sour expression, glaring daggers at Paul before he stood up, shaking all of it out in the process.

“You found a guitar?” You asked, watching as Paul pushed your legs flat against the blanket, allowing him to rest his head within your lap. Admittedly, your heartbeat betrayed you — you wanted to be annoyed by the gesture, but instead, you let it go.

To Paul, you smelled outrageously wonderful — better than anything he’d had before. It was an amalgamation of softer, floral perfumes coupled with whatever wash you used. He detected peach and vanilla, sweeter aromas that clung to you like a pleasant haze.

His hair was akin to that of a lion’s mane, viciously unruly as it flew around him like a halo. “Yeah,” Paul replied, somewhat distracted by your scent. “Y’know, I didn’t find it. I stole it from these amateurs up by the empty lot.” Yoo assumed that these ‘amateurs’ were no longer alive, either.

“Aren’t you considered an amateur too, Paul?” You mused, reclining back upon your hands, letting yourself sink into the soft, white sand. As you glanced down toward your lap, Paul was staring at you for what felt like an eternity, and you couldn’t discern if it was out of offense or something else.

“You’re gorgeous,” Paul mumbled, tracing one of his ring-adorned digits over the expanse of your clothed stomach. “Lookin’ good enough to eat.” He mused, and while you would’ve initially brushed off that comment, he said it with a peculiar warmth.

Goosebumps erupted along the column of your spine, causing you to shift slightly. His finger didn’t stop moving, flicking around the ruffled cotton. He wished that it was your flesh — warm and soft, waiting to invite him in. You never took any of his flirtation to heart — in truth, it might’ve been his fault, but he wanted to make you see.

You belonged to him.

With a soft exhale, you attempted to mask your shudder of delight, absentmindedly nibbling along your lower lip. “Very original,” You uttered, twisting away from his touch as if it would incinerate you. It was all meaningless — mindless sweet nothings spoken from a very precocious individual. “You’re a genius.” You teased, voice becoming slightly sardonic.

“You are,” He insisted, comfortable within your plush lap. Your scent did little to ease his feelings, overwhelming him like a thick haze. “Baby, you’re the prettiest thing I’ve seen in ages. Where’ve you been all my life?” Paul sighed, and he didn’t attempt to touch you again out of respect.

“Right,” You uttered, masking your growing agitation. Paul could have anyone he wanted — and he always did. Girls at the boardwalk swooned over him, they were always easy prey, and he indulged himself plenty of times. You were nothing more than a friend, you weren’t desirable, nor would he ever want you. “You’ve told me that before.”

Paul visibly deflated, withering away like a shriveling flower — you really weren’t convinced.

Unfortunately for Paul, you were blissfully oblivious to any of his advances, but then again, he could understand why you were skeptical. Flirtation was a natural instinct for him. While he kept his head in your lap, he shamelessly opted to rove through your thoughts. It was cheating, sure, but he was itching to know.

“Paul,” Dwayne’s voice cut through his state of contemplation, rousing the sandy-haired blonde from his stupor. Paul’s head lifted off of your lap, hastily sitting upright as he glanced up at the terrace. “We’re going for a ride.” He briefly nodded towards you as a form of greeting, swinging Laddie up onto his bike.

“You’re coming, right?” Paul asked, voice invigorated with a sense of giddiness and excitement. He got a little wild around you sometimes, but it wasn’t anything that you weren’t accustomed to by now. “Do I have to beg you or something?” He groaned, trapping you between his arms.

“You’re pathetic!” Marko snickered, jumping down to snatch you up. Even though he was the smallest of the pack, his strength was often unrivaled, save for Dwayne. You let out a startled gasp as Marko hoisted you up over his shoulder, heckling Paul in the process.

Paul bristled with anger — typically, he could excuse Marko’s antics, but not this time. A white-hot rage blistered through him, crawling across his flesh as he attempted to shake that gold away from his eyes. A snarl escaped him, and he made sure to grab your stuff as a courtesy, leaping up over the bannister.

By the time Paul had landed on the rickety wood of the boardwalk, Marko had placed you on solid ground, unable to bite back the impish smirk on his features. He was deliberately getting under Paul’s skin, and he knew it — knew all about his feelings for you, too. Perhaps that’s what made it all the more enjoyable.

Like a bat out of hell, Paul swarmed the curly-headed blonde with a vengeance, countenance contorted into a look of sheer irritation and borderline rage. “You’re dead, Marko!” He growled, lip curled in disdain.

“Sorry, Paul. You made it too easy,” Marko mused, narrowly missing a rather unsavory blow from Paul, who yanked at his jacket instead. “Jesus! Easy, I was only messing around!” He snapped, with the two bickering and locked in what was supposedly a heated argument.

“Paul,” You gently tugged on his coat, attempting to steer him away from potential violence. “It’s okay, he was just playing around.” A soft sigh escaped you as you played mediator for two vampires, brows knitting together as Paul stepped back with a huff of irritation.

“Enough.” David barked, glaring daggers as he glanced between Paul and Marko. The last thing that he wanted was for them to expose themselves on the boardwalk — it was bound to happen if they didn’t stop the horseplay. With a visible frown, he revved his motorbike, signaling for the others to fall in line.

Jealousy was an ugly thing — unpleasant, often festering inside of oneself until it rotted away at their very core. It didn’t suit Paul whatsoever. He suffered from a bout of such a potent disease, despising the way Marko had touched you, held you over his shoulder. He was usually open about sharing with his brothers, but not you — you were completely off-limits.

Wordlessly, Paul sulked towards his motorbike, sitting down with a begrudging huff. You felt inclined to follow, standing beside him with an empathetic expression. “Are you going to let me on? We’re still hanging out, remember?” You asked, voice softening an octave.

Paul felt a little better — but not completely. His ego was momentarily maimed by Marko’s antics, but it was a wound that would dissipate with time. Fortunately, you were a worthy cure as he moved forward, letting you on the back of his bike. “Saved your stuff, too.” He mused, feeling you squeeze your arms around his midsection.

“You’re my hero,” You chuckled, trying to make him feel less agitated. “Thanks.” With Paul recovering from the scuffle, David motioned for the rest of the conclave to follow, whipping his bike around onto the stretch of the boardwalk that led out onto the shoreline.

You remembered the first time Paul took you for a ride — and you very nearly had a heart attack. He drove as if it’d be his last day on earth, but you’d gotten so used to it that you stopped being a backseat driver and let him do whatever he wanted.

He was talkative and boisterous by-nature, which is why you became so concerned when he didn’t talk to you very much on the ride to the cave. Paul was normally extremely egregious and outgoing, something that you loved about him, but his bout of silence was making you nervous. You wondered if Marko had wounded his pride that badly.

As you pulled up to the cave, the boys hopped off of their motorbikes, and even Paul didn’t really wait up for you this time — something was wrong. Marko noticed, lingering at the fringes of the cavern as he glanced at you, promptly disappearing down the rocky incline. You were left to make your way inside alone, no Paul at your side or helping you down.

Once inside, you felt awkward, more than usual. Being the lone human in a nest full of vampires would always bring a little tension, but without Paul around, you felt hollow and unnerved. David regarded you with his typical stare — cynical and somewhat indifferent, and Dwayne was always solemn, much warmer than the other.

“Where did Paul go?” You asked, and it was Laddie who pointed you in the right direction, pointing toward one of the rocky tunnels that led off into their ‘rooms’, of sorts. You often referred to them as the metaphorical coffins, but Star found it to be in poor taste.

With a shaky exhale, you nodded. “Thanks.” You’d been in Paul’s ‘room’ plenty of times before, but he rarely disappeared and left you to fend for yourself. With the coordination of a baby deer who’d just learned how to take their first steps, you clamored up the uneven terrain, holding onto the rope to guide yourself up.

When you found Paul, he was lazily strumming on a guitar — the one he’d ‘found’. He had one leg kicked up, propped against the rock, the other tucked towards his chest as he played a few chords. The lack of acknowledgement sent off several red flags as you swept aside the makeshift ‘door’ — an old, velvet curtain repurposed from the hotel wreckage.

“Thanks for waiting on me,” You uttered, tone dripping with sarcasm, which captured his attention. He smelled you long before you’d entered, prompting him to turn his head, lion’s mane of hair disheveled and tousled from being pressed against a pillow. “You know, if I knew you were going to sulk around this whole time, I would’ve gone to the comic store instead.”

Paul scoffed, countenance twisting into a look of agitation, which was so unlike him. It shocked you to see him behave with such indifference, something that went against the grain of his character. “Maybe Marko can go with you.” He uttered, playing another melancholy chord on the guitar.

That’s what this was about?

“You’re not serious,” You quipped, folding your arms across your chest. “Is this about what happened at the beach? Paul, I’m not a mind-reader — I didn’t know Marko was going to do that.” He was beginning to really piss you off, which hadn’t happened yet.

For all of the meaningless flirting he’d done, the constant teasing and toying, you were vigilant. You’d tried to keep your chin up through it all. You couldn’t fathom why he was so upset about Marko’s harmless stunt — it was all playful. It was something Paul would’ve done, truth be told. Paul kept quiet, reading your mind as he surveyed your rageful inner monologue.

Instead, you were met with a wall of silence, and that made you frustrated. If Paul was going to behave like a child, you’d treat him like one. With a huff of annoyance, you waved your hand in dismissal. Your night was mostly ruined, but you figured you’d go home and try to get some sleep.

You gave him another chance to talk — it was quiet. “Fine. I’m going home, Paul.” You sighed, turning around as you prepared to make the climb back down. With a shrug of your shoulders, you barely passed through the curtain before something rustled behind you.

Just as you grabbed the rope, Paul was in front of you with inhuman speed, and he immediately snatched at your hips, dragging you away. You were protesting, interrogating him about what exactly was going on, but he persisted, locking you in his arms as he pushed you up against the wall.

“I don’t want Marko touching you,” He murmured, brows knitting together. “I want you all to myself.” You couldn’t tell if this was playful Paul trying to flirt with you again — his tone sounded so different. “You’re mine, baby.” Paul clicked his tongue, brazenly groping at your waist.

“Wh— What?” Disbelief seeped into your voice as you shook your head back and forth. “Are you fucking with me again?” Before you could get in another word, his mouth was devouring yours, vigorous and completely needy. Jesus, he tasted good — without pause, your hands flew to grab his hair in fistfuls.

A desperate whimper erupted from your mouth, buried and lost within his ravenous kiss. You needed to know what had gotten into him — why now? You began to yank on his hair in an attempt to get him to cease, and when he did, you appeared more agitated than happy. Paul normally didn’t get this reaction when he kissed someone.

“You have to tell me what’s going on,” You huffed, gaze practically pleading with him as he held you close, inhaling another gust of your saccharine scent. “First you’re flirting, then you’re mad, and now this. What’s gotten into you?” With a pointed stare, Paul relented, but he didn’t move away from you.

“You don’t take my flirting seriously,” He countered, brows furrowing together. “You don’t want to? Fine, but I’m gonna make you see how bad I want you.” Paul murmured, voice husky and alluring enough to make your knees wobble. He licked his lower lip, one hand beginning to drift underneath your blouse.

This didn’t feel real — whenever you desperately tried to search for even an ounce of playfulness, there wasn’t any. Paul was completely serious about this, and it made you weak, warmth beginning to pool between your thighs as you nodded several times over. “Okay,” You breathed, itching for more. “Then don’t stop.”

“M’gonna fuck you,” Paul smirked, eyes unnaturally bright as they glistened in the dimly-lit alcove. “You mind if I eat you out, too?” He asked, matter-of-factly. His unruly tangle of dusty-blonde tresses were stiff with age-old product, making it somewhat coarse whenever you went to grab and pull on it.

Did you mind? Laughter bubbled within your chest as your lips parted, expression incredulous as you nodded several times over. “Whatever you want,” He was gorgeous — in that crazed and unhinged sort of way. Paul stared at you as if you were both a delicious slab of meat and the most beautiful thing he’d seen. “I want you.” You exhaled.

That was all it took for Paul to claw at your clothing as if it were nothing, fingers excitedly ruffling your blouse as he yanked it up, causing you to squeak. He wasn’t gentle, but you didn’t care whatsoever. Those veined, dexterous hands ripped your blouse off of you, tongue darting out to wet his lower lip.

He was pushing you towards his bed, which was only really used for salacious activities, and nothing more. It was a colossal mess, the scent stale and reminded you of damp rock as he got you on your back, crawling on top of you with a devilish grin.

“Fuck, baby,” Paul sighed, slicing your brassiere off with a simple stroke of his fingers, flinging the tattered remains elsewhere. “You’ve got such a gorgeous body.” He murmured, lips sloppily trailing over your neck and collarbone as he rucked your skirt up towards your hips. Your mewls and whimpers were like music to his ears.

“Paul,” You groaned, hips rocking forward as you ground yourself against him, meeting his groin. His jean-clad erection pressed into your thigh, completely and utterly shameless. He kissed wherever he pleased, stopping to admire your breasts as they rose and fell with your excitable gasps.

Trapping a nipple within his mouth, he greedily sucked and nibbled at your swollen mound, intermingling such ministrations with eager strokes of his tongue. “Pretty tits, too.” He guffawed, playfully biting at your breast as you clutched onto his hair. “S’all mine.” Paul huffed, kneading into your pliant chest with his other hand.

A pang of arousal coursed throughout your body, striking right between your thighs. Warmth coalesced between your legs, manifesting as a stickiness that oozed from your cunt. Paul nearly growled at the smell, which was calling to him like a siren’s song. He was tempted to rip away and go right to the source, but he loved your chest just as much.

Suckling on your breast, Paul promptly provided such attention to the other, greedily biting at the soft, pliant flesh. The way you bucked and squirmed underneath him was all the more enticing, cerulean hues fluttering toward your blissed-out countenance. You tugged on his hair, causing him to let out a satisfied hiss.

“Could stay here forever,” Paul mused, pressing messy kisses atop your perky tits, and he seemed to get a little ahead of himself in the moment. Kisses soon devolved into love-bites and sucking as he found a patch of skin between your breasts. He left a string of hickeys there, beyond content with his handiwork. “Perfect.”

“Jesus,” You groaned, a mess of moans and desperate, pathetic whimpers as you wrangled with his lion-like mane of hair. “You’re bad.” With a soft hiccup, you felt his hands knead into your hips, prepared to go elsewhere if you let him.

“I can be worse, baby.” Paul prompted, eyes swarming with that familiar golden glow, ringed with a red halo around the edge of his irises. He growled, capturing your mouth with his as he kissed you, ravenous and swift as he began to make out with you. He was between your legs, arms locked on either side of you.

With a wanton moan, your hands clamored from his tresses toward his coat, wanting him to shed a few layers, too. It was only fair. Paul complied, whipping his dark coat off with an excitable haste, peeling away the mesh shirt he wore underneath. Your palms splayed out across his broad shoulders, warm flesh melding with his icy temperature.

He was well-muscled, poised — he reminded you of a coiled jungle cat, prepared to pounce. You reveled in the smattering of hair peppered across his chiseled chest, leading toward the sandy-hued happy trail that slipped underneath his tattered white jeans. His teeth brazenly bit at your lower lip, blood oozing onto his tongue.

Between the clash of lips, tongue, and teeth, Paul shuddered, lapping up any pearl of crimson that he could, hands tearing your skirt asunder. The unfortunate remains of fabric were yanked away as he let it fall to the floor, groping and kneading into you, wherever his hands took him.

You’d never been kissed like this — as if he threatened to steal every wisp of air from your lungs, hungering for you in every imaginable way. Your heart hammered against your collarbone, thrumming erratically as you hitched a leg around his hips, drawing him closer as he kept you locked in a barrage of kisses.

“Fuck,” Paul groaned, licking at your lower lip. “You smell so good, baby. I wanna taste,” He insisted, ring-adorned digits curling into the waistband of your panties. He wrestled them down until they were hitched around your knees, but he simply tore at them like the rest of your clothes. “Spread your legs for me.”

It was your turn to go sheepish on him, deliberately parting your legs at a sluggish pace. You weren’t sure as to why you’d become shy, but Paul didn’t seem to care, swiping at a tendril of drool that pooled at the corner of his mouth. Without missing a beat, his hand slipped between your legs, two digits swiping up along your wet cunt.

He gathered your slick, placing his fingers into his mouth with a satisfactory groan. The sight of him sucking your arousal away nearly made you melt. “Almost as good as your blood, sweet girl.” Paul chuckled, absentmindedly licking his lower lip as he settled onto the mattress, pressed flat atop the surface as he gathered your legs into each of his hands.

Paul slathered several kisses against your inner thighs, but he kept it short and sweet — he was here for one thing. You expected him to give you some sort of warning beforehand. “Paul, are you — O-Oh. Jesus Christ!” You squeaked, a strangled gasp escaping you as your back arched off of the mattress.

There was no pause or waiting — Paul’s impulsivity got the best of him. He was on you like a starving animal, desperate for anything he could get. His tongue pushed past your slick folds, silkily lapping over the length of your slit, savoring your taste. It was hot — you felt as if everything were set ablaze as a pleasant heat crawled across you, from head to toe.

His tongue raked hot embers across your aching cunt, body electrified by his touch. Paul’s fingers greedily dug into your pliant thighs, tossing either of your legs over his freckled shoulders as he lapped at your sweet core. His actions were swift and fueled by lust, driven by instinct as he jerked you forward.

Your stomach churned with anticipation, bleeding heat from between your legs as your thighs squeezed at his head. You felt that immense mane of hair tickle your soft flesh, goosebumps erupting along your body. Paul grunted, face buried deep within your cunt as he ate you out, messy and sloppy as could be.

“M’not Jesus,” Paul slurred, grinning like a shark as he nipped at your leg. “You taste so good, baby.” He huffed, the words spoken through the husked voice of a ravenous vampire as he returned to lapping at your poor, needy slit. Each drop of nectar that you provided to him served to momentarily dull the ache within his throat.

You kept writhing and squirming, shamelessly bucking your hips forward. He pinned you down with one hand, head spinning as your scent wafted around him like an inescapable haze. “Paul!” You mewled, practically quivering like a leaf as your cunt pathetically clenched around nothing at all.

Paul was a good sport, able to flow with the constant jolting of your hips into his mouth. Though, it only served to fuel the fire as he continued to hastily drag his tongue along your cunt, slavering for your taste. You moaned, tapering off into a myriad of sweet whimpers as your hands relocated, reaching for his hair.

The cool metal of his rings left imprints behind atop your thighs, various patterns pressed into your flesh. You were aching, body feeling feverishly hot as you bucked into his face again, feeling him clamp down on you as he held you still. His mouth was divine — it was sloppy and full of an unrestrained need.

As your digits twined into his hair, you began to pull and tug, using his unruly tresses as an anchor. Paul didn’t care in the slightest — he found it unbelievably hot as you jerked and tugged, back arched into his ministrations. He only stopped to spit a wad of saliva onto your swollen slit, body shaking with sly laughter when you gasped.

“Makin’ sure you’re ready for me.” Paul teased, but it was under false pretenses — he just wanted to spit on your cunt. He didn’t hesitate, diving back in for more, assaulting your clit with a barrage of kitten-licks and gentle suckling, enough for you to sputter.

With every movement you made, Paul would simply coax you back onto his tongue with inhuman strength, lips pursing around your clit as he began to suck and toy with the sensitive bud. Your hand grappled with his coarse tresses, the other digging into his shoulder. Your nails sank into his flesh, and Paul didn’t care whatsoever.

Arousal pooled between your legs, leaving behind a sticky mess that he was all too eager to clean up. It was only when he began to use that tiny edge of teeth that you were soaring, choking on a whimper as it bubbled within the back of your throat.

Your body was screaming for release, orgasm beginning to mount and build as white-hot tension flew through you, consuming you like a tidal wave. Paul could sense it, burying himself in your pretty cunt as if it would be the last meal he’d ever have.

He switched between the eager, broad lapping of his tongue with sucking on your clit, making you claw at his shoulder blade. One hand repositioned itself, splayed out across your pelvis as his thumb slipped to the hood of your cunt, playing with your clit as the rest of his mouth lapped elsewhere.

“Paul, Paul,” Paul. It was the only word that rolled from your tongue, doing very little to mask the sound of your pleasure. With a wanton moan, you felt that hot coil of tension within your stomach begin to unfurl as you steadily reached your climax. You were suffocating him between your legs — conveniently, he didn’t need to breathe. “Fuck, Paul! M’close!”

“Cum for me,” His encouragement was all that you needed, that little push forward as he backed off, peppering kisses against your clit as you came. It was blinding, and you swore you saw stars. “That’s it,” Paul crooned, moving to clean you up. “Atta girl, baby.” He did very little to mask his eagerness in lapping up the remnants of your orgasm.

He wiped at his lips with the back of his hand, kissing his way up your body until his mouth connected with yours. You could taste yourself and the somewhat bitter twang of copper within his saliva as you let your tongue slip into his mouth. Paul groaned, grabbing at your haunches as he moved to lay beside you.

“Are you tired?” You mused, your own chest heaving with exhilarated sighs as Paul effortlessly wrangled you closer, eyes glittering with desire. You were wrong to ask that question as he raised his eyebrows.

“What kinda question is that, baby? You’re getting on top,” Paul smirked, gesturing toward his lap. His erection was practically itching for release, straining against the front of his white jeans. “You’re going for a ride.” He purred, snatching at your hips as he hoisted you on top of his lap, letting you get comfortable.

Paul lounged against the mountain of pillows beneath him, hands splayed out atop your waist. You savored the sensation of his rings biting into your flesh, and you immediately scrambled to unzip his pants, wrestling with his belt as you freed his cock. His hardened length fell against your stomach, tip oozing with a bead of precum.

You shivered, gazing down at your vampiric paramour, who stared at you with those vibrant, cerulean hues — as clear as a summer’s day. Paul tilted forward, lips reaching for yours as he planted a rather lazy, messy kiss against your mouth. “M’ready.” You murmured, feeling him lift you up as if you weighed nothing at all.

With bated breath, you felt your insides turn to mush, reigniting the spark of lust as Paul let you sink onto his cock. A fire burned bright within your belly, demanding to be extinguished as Paul’s head fell back slightly, letting out a series of groans and softer grunts. “Fuck,” He growled, feeling your palms rest against his abdomen. “You’re so fucking tight, babe.”

Liquid heat festered within the pit of your stomach as you gasped, cunt clenching around his cock as you adjusted yourself. “Paul!” You moaned, attempting to stifle the many noises you made with the back of your palm, but he quickly swatted your hand away. He was bigger than you thought he’d be — a pleasant surprise.

“Wanna hear you scream my name.” Paul huffed, rubbing circles into your hips as he began to move you. Superhuman strength and stamina certainly had roles to play in this as he guided you up and down in short, rhythmic movements. You liked that he manhandled you a little bit, one hand on your waist as the other grabbed at your chest.

A simpering moan left you as he guided you up his cock, stopping halfway before easing you back down again. Lewd noises reverberated throughout the alcove, accompanied by your sweet whimpers and his grunts and groans. You were barely given time to get used to his pattern before he was bucking up into you with the indomitable strength of a god.

There was no opportunity for you to catch your breath, watching as Paul snatched your wrists, redirecting them towards his pretty neck. That surprised you, but you didn’t protest, feeling the taut muscle tense underneath your palms, jugular bobbing as you began to squeeze.

He moaned.

Unable to bite back the smile that stretched across your features, you held onto his neck, digits flexing and tensing as you continued to apply pressure. Paul’s head fell backwards just a little bit, steadying you with one hand as he fucked into you at an erratic pace. Flesh clashed against flesh, causing you to whimper as you rolled up and down along his cock.

“You like that?” You whispered through a string of blissful whines, gaze bright with desire as he nodded several times over. “Your cock feels so good, Paul.” You huffed, teeth snagging across your lower lip as you began to let your thumbs trace along his perfect jawline. His weeks-old stubble scratched at your silken flesh.

“Little harder, girl,” Paul encouraged, wanting you to really wrangle his throat. He didn’t need to breathe anyway — that made it all the more enjoyable. He savored your hesitation — his sweet little human, afraid of harming the big, bad vampire. He smirked, lifting his eyebrows. “C’mon baby, squeeze.”

Fuck — he was going to be the death of you. Your cunt clenched and throbbed around his cock, with Paul continuing to jackhammer into you like a wild animal. Grunts and excitable groans left him in droves, rippling through his chest as you squeezed at his throat. The muscles were thick and tense underneath your small palms, slick with perspiration.

Your flesh felt dewy, especially within the oppressive heat of the cave. Paul was unstoppable, a force of nature as his hips continued to buck up, cock slamming into your poor, tight cunt. He wasn’t gentle, and he showed no signs of stopping. Delivering a sharp smack to your ass, he fillee you to the brim with his length, causing you to really grip his throat.

With a needy whimper, your eyes fluttered shut, lips parted in a state of ecstasy. “Paul,” You moaned, feeling his hand greedily knead into your chest, twisting your nipple between his thumb and forefinger. The stimulation was intensified tenfold, making your brain go fuzzy as he fucked you into a stupor. “Holy shit!”

The alcove smelled of sex — sloppy rutting that was steadily devolving into a complete mess. Paul’s precum was slathered across your inner thighs, coupled with the slick remnants of your first orgasm and current state of arousal. He stopped his erratic thrusting, sitting up a little more with one hand on your hips.

Without warning, his mouth went straight to your chest again, lips attaching themselves around one of your swollen nipples. He was sucking, grabbing a handful of your ass as he led you up and down along his cock. The warmth of your flesh intermingled with his cool, icy skin, only serving to make you sweat.

“Touch me,” You whimpered, palms still clinging to either side of his throat, nails digging in toward the nape of his neck. The sex was incredible — you’d never been fucked like this before, but he had you chasing after every sensation. “Paul, please.” Heat crawled across your flesh, leaving you drunk with desire.

Paul playfully scraped his teeth across your breast, teasing your nipple. “M’touching you already, baby.” He mumbled, propping himself up with his other hand. A simpering groan escaped you as you rocked forward, taking one hand off of his throat to play with your clit.

An impish snarl left his mouth as he snatched at your wrist, and in one erratic movement, had you pinned down on your back. His cock throbbed inside of you, desperate for a release just as much as you were. Paul cackled, lips twitching into a sneer as he began to fuck you, enough for the foundation of the mattress to rattle underneath.

“That was bad,” Paul purred, fucking you down into the plush surface, nearly pulling his cock out of your slick cunt before slamming right back in, repeating the movement over and over again. Fortunately, he was feeling generous, slipping one hand between your bodies as he found the cleft between your thighs. “Fuck, you’re soaked.” He groaned.

You clutched onto him for dear life, body responding vehemently to Paul’s erratic thrusts and uneven, primal tempo. With a loud, wanton cry, your mouth clamored to find his lips, meeting in a rather noisy clash of teeth and tongue. He circled your clit with his thumb, rutting into you with a fervor.

“Paul!” You whined, locking a leg around his hips as your nails sank into his shoulders, leaving behind angry-red impressions, embedded within his flesh. Paul encouraged your scratching, tongue lapping at the inside of your mouth. A white-hot ecstasy consumed you whole, causing you to shudder and spasm.

“Can’t hear you, baby.” Paul teased, biting at your lower lip as he peppered kisses wherever he could — greedy, wet kisses that ended up being vibrantly-colored hickeys. Your flesh was his canvas as he marked you up wherever he pleased, hyperfocused on your chest again. “You close?” He huffed, fingers tearing into the sheets.

It was exhilarating — you swore you saw stars, perhaps more as he fucked you within an inch of your life. You didn’t want him to be careful. You didn’t want him to treat you like glass — you wanted to belong to him. “M’close,” Another string of sweet, noisy moans escaped you as Paul brazenly bit at your left breast, leaving behind a crescent-shaped mark. “Close.”

Rivulets of crimson trickled across your skin, prompting Paul to lick it all away, irises shifting from cerulean to a burnished gold. It made the sex more intense as he pounded away at your poor cunt, which had certainly been pushed to the limit. He was becoming a little squirrelly, panting and growling into your ear.

Paul kissed you to distract himself from the temptation of feeding, lost within the saccharine bliss of your mouth as he felt you cum around his cock. “Yeah, baby. Go ‘head and cum for me, just like that.” He mumbled against your mouth, tongue lazily sweeping across your lower lip as he tensed and thrust forward.

He came right afterwards, reveling in the sight of you trembling and quivering, juices coating his length as he pulled out halfway through. It was messy and rather disgusting, but you didn’t care. Ropes of hot, white seed painted your stomach and breasts, which was some sort of fantasy for him.

You sighed, barely able to string a sentence together as you fell back against the mattress, coated in perspiration and his cum. “Jesus.” You uttered, pressing a palm over your face as Paul rolled over to lay next to you. Your legs twitched and spasmed as you came down from your climax, feeling something soft fall across your abdomen.

It was a rather unappealing-looking towel that seemed much too ancient, and you wondered how many times this had been used to clean up his mess. With a huff of laughter, you cleaned yourself up, feeling his arms tangle around you, urging you to come back to him.

“Makes you wish you’d taken me seriously sooner, huh?” Paul mumbled, nibbling along the shell of your ear. You couldn’t help but feel smitten afterwards, twisting over until you faced your vampiric paramour, who had the expression of the Cheshire Cat.

“You’re ridiculous,” You mused, holding his face between your palms. “You’re gorgeous, too.” A peculiar softness crept into your voice, prompting Paul to shower you in a cascade of needy kisses. He liked to be close, which you didn’t necessarily mind, despite the newfound scent of post-sex that permeated the alcove.

“I’m all yours, baby.” Paul smirked, shamelessly staring at your breasts without an ounce of subtlety. You couldn’t read his thoughts, but you suspected that he had something particular in-mind. “You’re in for a long night.” He purred, and before you could open your mouth to speak, he was crawling on top of you.

You would have to thank Marko later.

[sad-ghost-of-garbage]

Buying the Lost Boys Flowers

Lost boys x G/N reader no gender of reader is mentioned

Headcannons on how each of the boys would react to their mate gifting them flowers. Short sweet stuff I dug out of my drafts.

Paul- Paul would be the most giddy to receive flowers from his mate. He would definitely show them off to the others bragging, “how you are the best partner and that he has the best mate ever”. Gets really sad when they start wilting and will pout if you don’t get him anymore.

Marko- Marko would be shocked and just a lil confused, was this your way of asking for more flowers? But once you explain that you saw them and thought of him he’d blush and set them on a shelf in his room so he could paint them later.

Dwayne- Big man is flattered that you would buy him flowers, he goes and "aquires" a vase since he didn’t want to ruin the vision of your gift by putting them in an empty beer bottle. He preserves a few of the flowers by pressing them in the pages of his books, that way he will always have a small piece of the gift you gave him. He may actually turn them into a bookmark on a rare occasion if he’s feeling crafty.

David- David is the most shocked to receive flowers, he sees himself as the provider (he is also the one who initiates first in a potential relationship) so it definitely sorta blindsides him that affectionate gestures go both ways. I feel that David is such a romantic soul that he gets tunnel vision when it comes to love, he gets so focused on showering his mate with romance that he neglects getting love for himself. So if you give him flowers, prepare to receive an extra amount of gentle kisses and be prepared to have a big scary vampire glued to you all night.

Taglist: @ria-coolgirl, @henhouse-horrors and my boo Brit already saw this lol my bad, I forgot my taglist the first time sorry guys!

[lickuiddd]

The Lost Boys Valentine's Day Headcanons:

Cw: brief mention of sex

A/N- Happy Valentines Day! also, first post on this blog

David:

All of the boys are romantic in their own ways, but David’s definitely the closest to a classic type of lover. Expect red roses, a gift that he got, and a romantic dinner date to end the evening. 

If you decide to get something for him, he’s going to love it. Even if his reaction is simple or small, just know that it means a lot to him, especially if it’s something he can wear or carry with him; he has it on him all the time. 

He may not usually be the most openly affectionate, but on an occasion like this, he’s making sure you feel loved by him; you're one of the most important people in his life as his partner. If he’s going to go all out, he’s going to do it right. 

Given he seems like the type to enjoy more intimate moments away from an overly public atmosphere, the date and your time with him are more secluded and one-on-one. He’s got a special spot picked out for the evening, and it’s only the best, of course. 

If you're not already a vampire at this point, then expect at least an attempt from David to try and turn you, because what better opportunity would he have to do that than Valentine’s Day? 

Dwayne:

If any of the boys are giving you a perfect Valentine’s Day, it’s Dwayne.

He’s already a very considerate partner, but on a day like this, he’s going to try his very best to be perfect. 

He’s thoughtful with his gift, and by how observant he is, his gift to you is something you’ve been wanting for a long time. Dwaynes is the type where, even if you’ve only mentioned it once or twice, or if it was something you’ve shown him during a previous time together, he’ll still remember and make sure to get exactly what you showed him.

He would have a perfect date planned and would have something on the more casual side set up, like a movie date and dinner.

Despite making plans, he’d also want to make sure that you get to decide some of the things you do together, and in the end, he's just happy to spend time with you and see you smile. 

Anything you buy or make for him will put a smile on his face, and he’ll deeply appreciate it. 

He’ll be telling you how much he loves you, and it’d be like the first time he did it all over again. 

Paul: 

If you're not already smothered by Paul’s love on a normal day, expect it to be amplified by almost triple on Valentine’s Day. 

From the moment you wake up, Paul is giving you anything and everything he has and could have possibly gotten you for Valentine’s Day. Expect teddy bears, chocolate, roses—you name it, he’s bought it. He’d pick you flowers he found on one of his bike rides or find trinkets he’d think you’d like too, as well as other small gifts. 

Whatever you decide to give to him, he’s going to love, and he’ll definitely show it. He’ll show off whatever you got for him to the other boys too and brag for a long time. 

He’s definitely taking you on a date to the boardwalk to get food, play games, and go on rides together. He’s the type to want to share one milkshake with two straws or ride a Ferris wheel just to make out for most of the ride. 

Despite all the gifts and cute dates, it’s Paul, and what would the literal day of love be without sex? Of course he would love doing all the other things, even if you didn’t want to have it, but if you let him, he’ll have you under him all night. To say the least, by the morning, you're going to have sore muscles and bruised skin from where he’s left his mark on you.

Marko: 

Valentine’s Day is definitely one of Marko's favourite holidays to celebrate, especially with you. He’s a romantic guy, and he couldn’t pass up the opportunity to show you his love. 

The date he’s planned would include going for a ride on his bike along the beach, later grabbing food and just being able to walk under the moonlight while hanging out together, laughing and smiling.

Marko would get you something like chocolates and cute cards, but he would also try to make you a gift. I mean, look at his jacket; he’s a craftsy guy. He would put a lot of effort into the project, even if it ended up not turning out like he wanted it to, but it’s the thought that counts, at least. 

He’d adore any gift you give him, but time with you is just as valuable to him.

Similarly to Paul, sex is something on his mind, and given the chance, he’d go down on you all night if you let him. 

Out of the four, like any holiday, he does it the best.

[skxllz]

category ❚ blurb

warnings ❚ nsfw, descriptive v! smut. fem! reader, fem! pet name usage.

summary ❚ unnecessary.

date posted ❚ 6. 22. 23.

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

“ so wet.. so fucking wet.. ”

paul panted as he continuously thrusted upwards into you. the sound of his heavy balls slapping against the underside of your ass echoed loudly, as well as your practical cries that filled the cave.

“ ‘m gonna’ cum again, paulie! ” you riddled out in a messy mix between a pant and a sob. voice shaky, lips quivering, spit dribbling down the side of your mouth.

you were soaked to the fucking t, your slick coating his dick entirely, leaving it so shiny and wet. you're so dripping that even the cream that left you couldn't keep a firm hold and ended up washing away entirely.

“ that's it, angel, ” paul panted, gripping your hips harder. you were facing away from him, on his lap, so he had a nice view of your ass as it drummed upwards. skin jiggling so god-likely. “ cum fer’me, baby. be my good girl, ” his claws dug down into your hip bones, creating small crescents as blood droplets surfaced. “ - shit! be my good girl and cum for me, honey. ” he was so fucking pussy drunk.

whimpering, hands placing over his own, you felt as the veins over the top of his wrists began to bulge out from how hard he was slamming into you. his fat cock head was basically brushing your curvix and drilling into your fucking womb.

“ shit, shit, shit! ” you chanted, tears leaving your eyes each time he rhythmically entered you again. “ I'm cumming! fuck, I'm cumming! ” you sobbed out loudly, feeling as your walls tightened around him.

just as that happened, paul let out a ferocious grunt and stilled; dick trusted into you deeply, hips positioned in an upwards angle with his ass lifted off the bed. his balls tightly pressed in between the space that cradled your opening and behind, letting you feel the pulsating bursts that jolted through him as he emptied his load into your cunt.

the whole time, you gripped his hands, all while letting out hiccuping gasps of bliss.

[f1nalboys]

BROOK! (💕) I've got a 'Lost Boys' belated Friday The 13th HC request!

I've had this thought rattling around in my brain for a while now, so let's see what you can make of it!

In their lair, I imagine there's plenty of dark, shadowy crevices in the ceiling in which to hide, and, perverted hedonists that they are, I can easily see any one of them unfairly using it to their advantage...

So, how do you think each of 'The Boys' would react if, after they hide up there when you *think* they've gone out hunting, they get to not only watch you finger yourself to orgasm...but hear you moan their name when you cum?

KELLLYYYYY!!! this was such a good ask, ive honestly missed these losers so much JSGDBSJ!!! i hope this is good and thanks for sending in an ask!! :3 below the cut is marko, paul, and david !!

DWAYNE: Dwayne will literally stay there and watch the ENTIRE time. This guy has the best self restraint out of any of the others, ANDDD he's the biggest voyeur, so he’s going to (at most) move so he can see you better!!! Dwayne will stay up there for hours, his eyes fixated on your hand and how it moves, how your fingers pump inside you and what speed. And yes, don't you worry, he is keeping track of it all to use against you at a later date. When you moan his name when you cum his resolve FINALLY breaks and i’m so dead serious when I say he instantly drops to the floor and gets his fingers on you!!

Dwayne swallows heavily, watching you as your fingers pump in and out of you at a steady pace. “Fuck,” you murmur, and though he’s far from you he swears he can feel your breath against his skin. His tongue swipes across his swollen bottom lip as he imagines it’s his fingers inside you, making you squirm and pant and curse. “Dwayne!” His eyes flash yellow as you cum, your back arching off of the bed, and he drops to the floor. He’s silent and you don’t notice him until you feel his calloused fingertips press down on your clit. Your eyes pop open, your gasp muffled by his hungry kiss, his tongue slipping into your mouth. He doesn’t have to say anything for you to understand that he saw it all, that he bided his time, and that now he was going to make you forget everything but his name. 

MARKO: Marko is second to last in the self-restraint department so I really don't think he could stay away while you touch yourself, like the man who get a WHIFF of it and he's in your face like “hi hello did u need help i'm going to help, move your hand-” like relax?? But if by some grace of god he’s able to hold back (whether that be on the ceiling or standing near you but you don't notice type thing), everything is out the window when you say his name. Like he's ripping your fingers out of you (ruining your orgasm because he SUCKS) and he’s shoving his own inside (and he's an asshole so he’s scissoring them inside you and going way harder than you’d expect him too) all while grinning in your face 

You moan Markos name, your eyes squeezing shut as the orgasm you’ve been slowly building up to finally comes to the surface. Just as the pleasure begins to wash over you, you feel someone grab your wrist, nails digging into your flesh as they rip your fingers out of you. Your orgasm is ruined in an instant and your eyes fly open, face hot in both anger and arousal, but when you see the sinister smile on Markos face, a flash of fear crosses your features. He tsks, bringing your fingers up to his mouth and sucking them, his eyes narrowing at the taste of you. “I’m sorry,” he says in mock apology as he pulls them from his lips, his teeth grazing along the flesh as he does so. “Did I interrupt you, baby?” He smiles again but it's far from kind. His fingers dip inside your hole roughly and you whine at the intrusion. He hushes you as he sets a steady and rough pace, fingers scissoring and curling inside you. “Just let me make it up to you then, alright? Take it like we both know you can.”

PAUL: Like Marko, Paul has zero self restraint when it comes to you LMFAO. I don't think he’d even care to wait for you to cum before he’s suddenly at your side, cooing in your ear about what a needy slut you are. He feels like the only one to ask if you were mad at him and if thats why you waited until you thought he was gone to touch yourself and regardless of what you say he’s gonna give you a pretty smile and get on his knees to apologize. You’ll be moaning his name when he cums but he’s going to be the one to do it to you

Paul’s breath on your neck has your eyes popping open, your fingers stalling inside yourself. He laughs and then he’s right there, slipping into the bed beside you and pressing close. “Hi, sweetheart,” he whispers against your neck, placing a few kisses along your pulse. “Missed me?” You don’t have to see him to know he has a shit eating grin on his face. “Poor baby, your hole was just aching, right?” You whine when you feel his hand teasingly ghost along your skin, his fingers running across your thighs. “You mad at me or something sweetheart? That why you waited to fuck yourself until you thought I was gone?” It’s useless, but you shake your head, lips parting to tell him that of course you weren’t mad, but then he’s sliding down the length of the bed and positioning himself in between your legs, a hungry look in his eyes. “Let me make it up to you and your needy little hole, alright?” His mouth opens and he gives you one last grin before he lets his tongue swipe over your hole, his hands holding your thighs apart.

DAVID: Ah, David, David, David. My annoying little guy. He has a little less patience than Dwayne, so he’d reveal himself before you came but he’s not touching you. No, you wanted to cum from your own fingers, that’s what you’re going to do! He’ll perch on the edge of the bed or, his favorite thing to do, sit in a chair in front of you and make you spread your legs wider so he can see every single pump of your fingers. He might occasionally order you to slow down, speed up, do it harder, etc but for the most part he’s going to stare you down and let you pleasure yourself because he knows no matter how good you feel right then, it’s nothing compared to what he makes you feel. In all honesty, David would probably make you keep going; you wanted to cum so badly you can keep going until he’s satisfied!

“Don’t stop now,” he says, his voice level as he takes a drag of his cigarette. You swallow heavily, staring at him from the edge of the bed where he sat in his chair, his legs spread, an almost bored expression on his face. If it weren’t for the obvious bulge in his pants, you might think he was annoyed with you. “You wanted to cum without me, that’s what you’re going to do.” You whine but relent, beginning to pump your fingers inside yourself. His gaze helps ignite the fire inside your gut once more, the occasional order he gives you makes your head spin as you’d listen, and soon enough you’re cumming, crying out his name. He watches with a disinterested expression, his hand slowly palming himself over his pants. “Why are you stopping?” His voice is gruff as he asks and when your head tilts in confusion, he smiles at you, baring his teeth like an animal, a puff of smoke spilling from his mouth. “You think you’re done because you came?” He leans forwards in his seat, shadows dancing across his face. “You’re not done until I tell you you’re done, slut.”

[mayonnaise2004]

Meeting and Dating Alan Frog Headcannons

✰ Sorry I haven’t been posting in awhile!! (Been having massive writers block) made this just in time for Valentine’s Day!<3 ✰ (requests are open!)

Alan met you through Sam.

Sam had dragged you into the comic shop because he wanted you to meet the ‘amazing, yet kinda grungy’ frog brothers! :)

Edgar didn’t really mind you, since you didn’t really talk, But Alan was staring at you like you had a extra eye. Like poor boy wouldn’t look away 😭😭

(Being the insecure teen you are) Your mind turned to the worse, and you thought he didn’t like you.

Little did you know Alan was comparing you to some of the most beautiful women he knew in his mind. (Godiva, Farrah Fawcett, Etc.)

It took about 10 visits before he actually had a conversation with you. (Definitely almost had a heart attack when you said you thought he didn’t like you)

You two got comfortable around each other pretty quickly, and in august, he asked you out. (You obviously said yes.)

DATING HEADCANNONS TIME ‼️‼️

Alan will turn bright red if you give him any form of PDA (kisses, hand holding, compliments, etc.)

Hanging out in the comic store

Boardwalk dates

Watching old movies/musicals

Hanging out with him, Edgar and Sam

Being a anatomy model for his paintings (HE PAINTS. AND IS AMAZING AT IT.)

listening to him ramble about vampires over the phone

Sneaking away from the group to kiss

Having to stop him from killing random civilians

Sitting in the rain

Getting little trinkets he found as gifts (crystals, cool looking rocks, necklaces from the lost and found, pins, etc.)

Overall, I think dating Alan frog would be a amazing experience.

[blueberrypancakesworld]

TLB - Blood red lips - Door.14

warning : kissing, flirting (tiny tiny tiny smutish if you look closely)

The calendar

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

David :

On the occasion of Christmas, the four boys bought a matching lipstick not only to match the red shining apples but also the red candles and the red Christmas baubles. But most fascinated by it was David who equated the red with the red of fire and flames. He loved it when she came to them at night with the lipstick and he watched the red almost obsessively. Until he moved towards her, stepped out of the shadows and whispered to her, ,,Lips as red as fire", he knew her heart was beating faster and he wanted more of her. His cold leather gloved fingers ran over her neck until she took the cigarette in his other hand between his fingers. ,,I love you," she heard his voice as he came closer and pulled her into a greedy kiss. She tasted the smoke and the blood running through him. He pulled her closer and when they broke away she could see that his lips were the same blood red as hers. 

Dwayne :

Christmas the time of love for some and the time for presents for others. But for Dwayne, it was nice to see his brothers and his heart getting along. They felt at ease and the winter only brought them closer together as it got darker faster in Santa Carla. But during this time, it was above all his passion for his love that kept him captivated. Whenever their shared love came to them he watched her from his silence and saw her lips. The dark red colour, even though it resembled blood, symbolised love for the tall black-haired man. ,,Your everything is my love," he had told her one dark Christmas night and pulled away from the wall. He walked over to her and saw the warmth on her cheeks. ,,You are everything," he whispered to her, lingering over her before pulling her into an intimate kiss, his hand going to her hair and pulling her closer to him. Knowing that her blood-red lips would rub off on his.

Paul :

Paul loves Christmas, the bright colours and the sweet smell that seemed to taint the blood of the victims. But above all, he loves playing in the snow with his brothers, having fun throwing the snow on his heart and summoning an artificial snowflake fall for her. But when she came into the cave with the red lipstick one day, the blonde seemed to fall in love again. The colour not only matched her eyes and hair, the colour matched everything, it seemed to make her stand out in a new way and the blonde had to pull himself together to attack her. ,,My angel, I'm yours," he said and playfully knelt down in front of her before pulling her rapturously against him and kissing her. Her lips left red marks on his lips, neck and cheek. ,,You're beautiful," he said dreamily as she let go of him and he floated through the air, almost cartoon-like, as he winked at her. 

Marko :

Marko's favourite colour was the blood red of his victims and seeing the red on the snow was his perfect Christmas. Seeing the blood colour the snow red and the warmth of his dismembered victims seemed to transfer to him. But after a long, dark, blood-red night, he returned to the cave covered in blood. He saw her heart beating in the dark and, above all, saw her red lips, which he first thought were blood, which is why he appeared next to her. ,,You flatter my heart," he murmured and his bloody fingers ran over her lip, seeing that it wasn't blood and he seemed almost disappointed. Before he pulled her into a kiss, her hiss amused him as he bit her lightly, tasting her blood. ,,Now it's perfect," he said, pulling away from her and seeing the small trickle of blood on her lips that had stained his.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

[radicallxser]

mom has a date with a vampire but its a reader x one of the lost boys but they end up being together and reader's kids actually end up really liking him

[macabre-mangled]

Poly! Marko and Paul X Reader Head-cannons

@xxx-wounded-angel-xxx requested:

Hi! If you're okay with it could i get some fluff for dating Paul and Marko please? With a gender neutral reader, like the three of them are dating each other. Thanks! 🦇

A/n: I’m always up for poly! Hope you like this!

Warnings: canon typical violence and innuendos

Good luck with keeping these two out of trouble

They both rope you into their pranks

It’s worse if they’re pranking each other

Both tend to be v clingy

Paul even more so than Marko

They’re both like cats tbh

Rubbing themselves against you almost like how a cat scents you

With their enhanced senses they can smell if you hugged someone else

And as expected they get very jealous and practically tackle you

Needless to say they made SURE you REEKED of them ;)

David almost gagged afterwards

They share clothes with you and each other

There are times you’ll find them lovingly cuddling and kissing each other before they notice you and invite you into their makeshift nest

Pillow/Blanket forts in the cave

You can’t tell me otherwise

They’d put in yours and theirs favorite movies and have a movie night with tons of snacks. And making out of course ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

Going back to them ; they were together before they met you and when they did they became absolutely smitten

They obviously had to have you so they begged David; to which he relented after awhile

Paul’s puppy dog eyes are lethal

Speaking of which you and Marko can’t escape them

He WILL get what he wants

Marko does too tho

He’s very charismatic as we all know

If you’re ever upset these two are the ones that understand the most (good choices bestie)

They’ll leave you alone if needed or they’ll wrap you in a blanket burrito and rock you as you vent

Their kisses are always nothing short of enchanting

Paul is more slow and romantic or feels like you’re the only person in the world

Marko’s have the same effect but in a different way; his aren’t sloppy per say but more eager and sensual, like you’re on the cover of a romance novel

Both of them are cuddle masters as mentioned previously

They will tackle you if they think you’re overworked

You have no choice in their eyes

It’s cuddle time

They both nuzzle into your chest or neck

Or each other’s depends on the cuddle position but they usually prefer you in the middle

You’re their human so you need to be protected at both sides :)

[yandere-kokeshi]

Definitely Paul. Just... Paul.

[canadianhottmess]

Psssst. I made a lil fic

[sunkendreams]

I'm not really that familiar with 'The lost boys'

But, at the moment i just can help but think about any of them just absolutely going feral for reader in their period;

Just- top tier pussy eating and indulging while helping reader ease the pain.

This can either go really dark or really *really* soft :))

once bitten, twice shy.

( paul x fem!reader x marko. )

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆. | paul x fem!reader x marko (paul-centric fic with a healthy side of marko)

𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐌𝐀𝐓. | one-shot — requested.

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓. | 5.2K.

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒. | SMUT! (mdni), vampire antics, blood drinking, bloodplay (they’re vampires), period sex, cunnilingus, oral sex (f!receiving), biting, hair-pulling, dirty talk, scratching, paul loves your tits, marko is kinda selfish, making out, kissing while they’re bloody (hot), threesome, ambiguous ending, panty-stealing

𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑’𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄. | so ,,, I would absolutely love to write a part 2 to this with them blowing the reader’s back out, so if that’s something y’all wanna see, please comment and/or send a request! I love writing for the lost boys so much ,,, most inspired I’ve been in a long time! I’m gonna start answering requests, too! I’m so excited to be back in the thick of things. Love you guys so much, thanks for your support!

TAGLIST: @dootys ; @reveluving ; @sat10 ; @milland ; @iamcautiouslyoptimistic ; @darklylucid ; @sirstompely ; @chaotichellscape ; @callsigncrash ; @manicpixiimurderdoll ; @sandeepics ; @rainbowcreepie ; @kiki-dohedo

They were descending upon you like a pack of slavering wolves — like sharks in the water, drawn to the scent of your blood. Whenever your menstrual cycle came around, it was as if you were wearing a dinner bell around your neck. Dwayne knew better than to interfere when you were in pain, and David simply told you that it would be over soon, without any real compassion.

Paul, however, had no real concept of boundaries, nor did he really have a desire to adhere to them. As soon as he caught wind of your blood, he was always a little closer — never too far away. If Paul happened to be nearby, it was a possibility that Marko was right behind him.

As you lay in your makeshift nest, nestled atop the rickety mattress, you were partially tangled within well-worn sheets, wishing for your torment to end. An excruciating ache spread throughout your lower belly, sending dull shockwaves of pain towards your limbs. Your head vibrated with an unpleasant humming.

Your alcove was shrouded in thick curtains which served as a door — even then, there wasn’t a purpose for it. Privacy was threadbare around the cavern, especially when it came to you. With a low groan, you rolled over, attempting to find a comfortable position, but everything felt horrible.

It was as if your body was imploding, ripping itself to pieces while still barely functioning. Sometimes, you wished that you could turn — if you were a vampire, menstruation would cease, becoming a thing of the past. You were half-tempted to beg David for a sip of the crimson bottle, but you knew he would decline.

With a shaky exhale, you sluggishly rolled out of your bed, gritting your teeth together as another wave of pain radiated through your lower back. A hot bath and plenty of sleep would do you good, but living with the boys had completely altered your circadian rhythm. There was no use in trying to return to normalcy.

Draped in one of your blankets, you wandered toward the drawn curtains, gasping when your foot nudged into something sitting atop the rocky, uneven floor. It was a small pile of chocolate, accompanied by a partially-destroyed box of tampons. You weren’t sure who left it there, but you had a hunch.

You stooped down, gathering the many offerings as you retreated into your chambers, mood improving by a sliver as you went about eating some of the chocolate. They were Milky Way and Secret bars, something you might’ve grabbed at the convenience store once upon a time. You assumed that one of the boys stole it.

As you sat along the edge of your bed, your mouth flooded with a rush of gooey nougat, sweet as can be and somewhat of a relief. It wasn’t enough to quell your constant aches and cramping, but the gesture was thoughtful. You placed the rest in a box underneath your bed, discarding the wrapper into a bin.

Your mattress was the most inviting thing you’d seen all day, coaxing you back into its plush warmth. Swaddling yourself within one of your blankets, you intended on sleeping — attempting to sleep the day away, if you could. Best to do it now before you were rudely interrupted come nighttime.

It was best to rest whenever the boys did, knowing that they’d become rowdy once the sun descended. They had a rather common practice of waking you up whenever they got up, and this time wouldn’t be any different.

“You’re on the rag,” Paul’s voice sliced through your slumber like a hot knife cutting into butter. “I can smell you from miles away — bet anybody could.” Your eyes fluttered, groggy from sleep as you adjusted to the low, flickering candlelight of your nest. It didn’t surprise you to see your boyfriend perched at the foot of your bed, smirking like a maniac, the bastard.

As much as you adored Paul, he was the last person you wanted to see. The unfortunate part about cohabiting with vampires was their nosiness, their desire to feed, their backward circadian rhythm — your boyfriend was the worst of all. With a soft groan, you twisted away, drawing the blanket over you.

Another sharp jolt of pain cut through your stomach, the sensation equating to that of a gut punch or shallow stab wound. You didn’t want Paul to see you like this, all disheveled and haggard, a mess of gore and exhaustion. “What time is it?” You mumbled, briefly rubbing at the bridge of your nose.

“I don’t know,” He shrugged, slithering forward until he was right next to you, close as could be. “Poor baby,” Paul crooned, peppering kisses against your face. “You’re just dying over here, aren’t you?” Admittedly, he wanted to eat you out — he hadn’t asked before, but being in such close proximity without having fed in awhile, he was ravenous.

His lips felt so cool against your feverish flesh, like ice against fire. You shamelessly careened into those brief pecks and fleeting sensations, lips parting as you let the blanket slip a little bit. “Feels like it.” You sighed, hand reaching toward his chest. His skin was always icy, perfect to quell the searing feeling that coursed all over your aching form.

Paul’s motives were mostly self-satisfying, an attempt to extinguish the ragged burning that blistered through his throat. Of course, he wanted to help you — take some of your pain away, but above all, he wanted to feed. He’d drink from your cunt like a fountain if he needed to, but it was all about execution. He wanted you to agree to it.

Marko would want in on this, Paul contemplated.

Sharing with his brother was an act of generosity, but Marko had some claim over you, too. Paul loved you, you loved him — Marko loved you, too. He felt obligated to alert his fellow blonde to your suffering — he was just as hungry. Though, Paul was delighted to find that he could have his fill first, no waiting in line.

“You feel so nice,” It wasn’t intended to be flirtatious — but for Paul, he’d take any scrap that he could get. In an attempt to feel his cold skin against your cheek, he playfully groped at your chest, causing your brows to furrow in mild annoyance. “Paul, not right now.” You sighed.

“Not right now?” He parroted, tone jocular and mischievous as he pressed another kiss against your cheek. You really were warm. Paul watched with a twinge of empathy as you winced, contorting and writhing around atop the mattress. You were in pain — he hated seeing you like this, wrought with an agony that he couldn’t rip away from you.

A bout of silence passed between the both of you, and you looked to Paul, whose mind was racing with lascivious thoughts. Saliva pooled within his mouth, a desperate hunger intermingling with his desire to no longer see you suffering. You curled up against him, hands pressed flat atop the mesh shirt he wore.

You’d grown accustomed to his smell — a pungent aroma, like carrion in the sun attempting to disguise itself as a bottle of stale cologne. At first, it was extremely off-putting, especially when you were having sex, but now, it was simply apart of his very being. You had been surrounded by vampires long enough to understand their distinct and disgusting scent.

“Baby, you gotta let me help you,” Paul murmured, cerulean hues taking on a predatory sheen. He was partially just a boy wanting to fuck his girlfriend, and the other half was a greedy creature who simply wanted your blood. “Got an idea to make you feel better, yeah? Make your pain stop for a little while.”

His icy hand traced over your cheek, thumb sweeping across your lower lip as he continued to shower you in feather-light kisses. It was akin to cold raindrops peppering your flesh. Paul’s hand then drifted underneath your shirt, an item that coincidentally once belonged to him, now repurposed.

That chilled temperature was a nice feeling — as much as you desired heat, the cavern could become oppressively stuffy and overbearing. When the California summers died down, the interior became a little cooler, more mellow. For now, you endured the heat. “Paul, I don’t think sex is going to help me.”

Paul guffawed, grinning wolfishly as he planted a kiss against your lips. It was open-mouthed and needy, which happened to make your cunt throb with a distant ache. You hated Paul sometimes — he made you so aroused and pent-up that you wanted to scream.

His facade of ‘dumb blonde’ charm initially worked on you — a carefully-crafted disguise that gave way to his underlying intelligence. Paul was wicked smart, but he enjoyed keeping up a charade for the fun of it. Easier to hunt that way, he’d told you, once upon a time. He was so charismatic, like a magnet — drew you right in.

“Don’t knock it ‘till you try it, sweet thing.” Paul snickered, crawling a little lower as he pressed kisses against your stomach, which made you so unbelievably flustered. “Let me help you out, baby. M’hungry,” He murmured into your skin, idly rucking your shirt up towards your chest. “Wanna taste you so bad.”

Realization washed over you then and there.

He was hungry.

The fresh menses that coalesced between your thighs must’ve been calling his name, and you stiffened as another tendril of blood wept from your core. It was always an uncomfortable sensation, but Paul could smell it — he had the nose of a keen hunter. You swallowed the lump within your throat, feeling more embarrassed than anything else.

“Paul, I — Are you sure?” If it weren’t for his state of vampirism, you would’ve been mildly disgusted, but this was Paul, after all. He was messy, nasty, and rowdy. He didn’t care whatsoever, and it was one of the reasons why you adored him. He was unapologetically unhinged — his constant state of being.

His cajoling laughter caused you to shiver, knowing what his answer would be before he said anything. It was stupid to believe that a vampire wouldn’t want to have free access to blood, no matter how unorthodox it might’ve been. “I’m very sure, baby. You just lay back, let me handle the rest. M’gonna make you feel better.”

If it weren’t for the context of the situation, he sounded like a doting, devoted boyfriend. You couldn’t help but let out a brief huff of laughter, but then again, if Paul intended to relieve some of your period pains in the process, you weren’t about to stop him.

With a nod, you rolled over, lying flat against the mattress as Paul swiftly shrugged off his tuxedo overcoat, letting it drape against the foot of the bed. His eyes glittered with excitement, and once he was perched at your feet, you got embarrassed. He’d eaten you out before on so many occasions, but this made you unbelievably flustered.

Insecurities got the better of you as you pressed your knees together, hand covering your face. “I can’t, Paul. You’re going to think I’m repulsive.” You groaned, feeling his strong, muscled hand gently clasp around your wrist, dragging it away so that you could see him.

“Baby,” Paul hummed with an urgency, his mane of coarse, dusty-blonde hair looking exceptionally wild when he hovered above you. “You really think that I’m gonna find you gross ‘cause of that?” He inquired, watching your pretty little face scrunch up. “I think it’s hot.”

You scoffed, finding some amusement in that. “You think me being on my period is hot?” It shouldn’t have surprised you — this was Paul, after all. “You’re insatiable. I’m just a free meal for you right now.” You sighed, and even if that was true, you would always be more than that to Paul.

Ever the patient predator, Paul perched his chin against the top of your knee, pressing a sweet kiss against your softer flesh. “Nah, baby! You’re more than that,” He protested, hands rubbing along your thighs. “You’re my sweet little mate.” He watched you shiver, and his lips twitched into a smirk.

Unfortunately, Paul knew how to get you hooked — whenever he referred to you as his mate, you became very smitten very quickly. “I know,” You mumbled, listening to his impish laughter as he showered your legs in greedy kisses. “I know I am.” You shuffled your legs apart just a little bit, and Paul was barging right into that newfound space without warning.

Paul grinned — a glittering, vibrant expression that made your stomach do excitable flips. “Yeah you are,” He purred, pushing your shirt up until it pooled around your stomach. That familiar scent of blood invaded his senses, activating that burning hunger. His throat blistered with a dry, festering agony. “Fuck, you’re all mine.” His voice became a touch darker.

You shuddered, skin crawling with an excitable heat as you squirmed atop the mattress. Paul’s ring-adorned digits curled into the waistband of your shorts, yanking them down and off of your legs. With only one thin veil to protect you from Paul and his appetite, you felt his arms hook around you, prying your panties away.

His attention turned to the menstrual pad, gaze sparkling with intrigue as he smelled the freeh blood on it and on you. “Might save that for later, as a dessert.” He let out a bark of laughter, gingerly discarding your panties off to the side, treating them with care. “You smell divine — bet you taste just as good.” Paul groaned.

With a brief inhale, he caught a full gust of your saccharine scent, interwoven that the twang of copper and your menses. He licked his lips, flattening himself against the mattress until he was on his belly. Paul rocked forward, and without hesitation, began to greedily lap at your cunt.

It was as if being touched by an open flame, nerves set ablaze by Paul’s eager, greedy licks. The broad flat of his tongue swept across the length of your slit, drinking in each tendril of blood. A lion drawn to that of a lamb, the predator finally catching its prey. You whimpered, aching something awful as he worked to soothe it.

Your hands lazily clamored toward the crown of his head, digits sinking into his product-stiff mane of hair. It felt coarse underneath your fingertips, but you didn’t care, clutching onto him with a fervor. “Paul, ri—Right there,” You sighed, hips jolting forward. “S’good.”

His oral fixation was rather renowned, and his prowess at giving you mindblowing head was really beginning to show. Paul’s tongue languidly split toward your weeping core, imbibing your menses as your blood began to extinguish that festering pain within his throat.

A molten-hot wave of heat rolled over you, dropping right into the pit of your stomach as he flicked his tongue across your clit. That singular gesture made your cunt clench pathetically around nothing at all, thighs beginning to squeeze at his face. Paul snickered, forcefully parting your legs with a mere shove of his rough palm.

He wished that you were always like this — he wouldn’t have a reason to hunt anymore. That was the lazy way out, and Paul loved the chase, but being able to simply feast on you without harming you was quite the payoff. He cleaned you up, tongue prodding at your entrance with a fervor.

Fortunately, Paul caught you on a heavy flow, and his greed was beginning to shine through. His restraint was thinly-veiled and shattering at the very foundation, hands tugging you forward as he lapped at the trickling rivulets of crimson. A groan escaped him as he devoured your cunt like a man starved, and in all actuality, he was.

“I hope you plan on sharing.” Marko’s voice was extremely unexpected, snapping you out of your lust-induced haze, eyes going as wide as saucers. Your relationship with Marko was a complicated one — Paul was your boyfriend, but you liked Marko, too.

Suddenly, you felt embarrassed — ashamed, even. You almost wanted to kick Paul away and wallow in your own frustration. You wanted to squeeze your legs together, but he wasn’t having it, keeping you spread open with one hand. “Paul, wa— Wait,” You protested, voice meek and soft as he lapped at your cunt. “Paul.”

Paul was laughing, tearing himself away from his meal with his chin and mouth turned scarlet, stained with your menses and ichor. He licked his lips, peering toward you with a mischievous expression. “Marko wants in on this,” He mused, caressing your thigh in an attempt to quell your sudden bout of nervousness. “You mind, baby? You can say no.” He assured you.

It all felt like some fever dream, and you were staring at Paul with an incredulous look. They were always prone to sharing, but this seemed like a step further than you intended. “You … You don’t care?” Admittedly, you wanted Marko — burned for him. He was certainly greedier than Paul, twice as insatiable.

“Nah,” Paul chuckled, seemingly nonchalant about this entire ordeal. He was busy licking your taste off of his mouth with all of the excitable gusto of a dog. “You’re still my mate, but I can share a little bit. ‘Sides, Marko’s been looking at you for weeks. He’s jealous that he doesn’t have a hot girlfriend like you, baby.” He sneered, grinning like a wolf as he kissed your leg.

Marko’s countenance became somewhat dour, but he elected to ignore Paul, who was entirely amused. The curly-headed blonde sauntered forward, inching closer toward your bed until he was at your side. He reminded you of a cherub — a cherub cleverly disguised as a devil with a forked tail.

Paul smirked, slithering back to his perch between your thighs, busying himself with eating you out as Marko decided to finally have his moment with you. Besides, you were his thrall — the girl of his eternal dreams, flesh and blood, all belonging to him. He happily lapped at your cunt again, lips occasionally teasing your clit.

You shuddered, shrinking underneath the oppressive force of Marko’s stare, which glistened with an unrestrained desire. He slipped forward, settling beside you on the bed — it was the closest you’d ever been to him. Your heart pounded within your chest, hammering away just underneath your collarbone.

He uttered something in Italian, something that you couldn’t decipher as he hovered above you, fingertips gently trailing across your cheek. You didn’t expect this sort of behavior from him, considering that he had quite the temper and violent streak, but you weren’t about to complain.

Without missing a beat, you slid your hands toward his waist, wanting to touch him. He noted your hesitation, grasping ahold of your wrists as he guided your hands underneath his cropped shirt. “Marko.” You cooed, voice tapering off into a moan. Goosebumps coalesced along the length of your spine — it was hard to focus when Paul was tongue-deep inside of your cunt.

“You’re beautiful,” Marko hummed, dark, green-flecked hues roving over your writhing physique. Your scent was overpowering, awash with that coppery twang of blood, perspiration, and natural musk. He dipped forward, mouth brushing against yours. “Delicate.” His lips split into a gregarious smirk as he nipped at your jaw.

You shivered, beginning to squirm around as Paul lapped at your oozing slit, mouth rapacious as he lapped at stray tendrils of your cruor. He planted a kiss against your thigh, leaving behind the imprint of bloodied lips, fingers clamping down on your hips as he urged you back onto his tongue.

A myriad of whimpers and moans escaped you, swallowed whole by Marko, whose kiss was completely consuming. He was the smallest of the pack, but easily the most voracious alongside Paul. Your palms slid everywhere they could, flat atop Marko’s abdomen as you kissed him.

He felt like smooth marble underneath your fingertips, cold to the touch. Your breath caught within your throat as he gripped at your neck, holding either side as he continued to kiss you. A soft moan escaped you, barely audible between the barrage of kisses exchanged, soon devolving into tongue and teeth.

Paul licked his lips, tasting your body upon his tongue. “Wanna have a taste, Marko?” He snickered, tossing his sandy tresses back with a shake of his head. It was like some unruly, disheveled halo that surrounded him, stiff and layered in product he hadn’t washed out in years.

Marko’s eyes glittered with lust, intermingled with a rapturous hunger. He kissed you hard before recoiling, swiftly switching places with Paul, who was more than happy to come curling up next to you. Marko wanted nothing more than to feed — whether you came or not. It was entirely self-gratifying.

“She smells good enough to eat,” Marko sneered, playfully biting at your inner thigh. He was rougher, somewhat reckless compared to Paul, oddly enough. Paul knew you inside and out — and he wanted to try and be careful with you, if that were possible. “Don’t you, ragazza?” It must’ve been something in Italian.

Your boyfriend let out a bark of laughter. “What are you tryin’ to say? It doesn’t sound as good as you think.” He teased, and Marko gave him a spiteful look. Paul grinned, bloodied mouth on display, like something from a splatter film as he let you recline against his chest. “You gonna pull your shirt up?” He asked you, matter-of-factly.

You blinked, wincing when Marko’s sharp teeth suddenly nicked your supple flesh, drawing out a thin rivulet of blood across your thigh. “You can take it off.” You mumbled, gasping as Paul’s roughened digits pawed and clawed at your shirt, wrangling it up enough until he pushed it over your head.

Paul’s crimson-coated mouth was on your tits before you could fully form a sentence, letting out a soft moan. You immediately gripped at his hair, thighs trembling as Marko dove right in. His tongue split you open, greedily lapping at your fresh wave of menses, hungry as could be. He was far more intense and animated than Paul, which both excited and terrified you.

With a sigh of delight, your hips twitched and jolted forward, held down tight by Marko, who was greedily drinking his fill from you. His tongue swiped against your sensitive cunt in a rather vigorous pattern, hands clasped around your hips. Paul not-so-gently sucked on your nipple, teeth nibbling around the tender bud as he groped at your chest.

Pleasure rippled throughout your body, like tidal waves of ecstasy. That sharp ache that once blistered within the pit of your stomach had been quelled for now, and you couldn’t have been any happier. Your hands roamed through Paul’s tresses, giving them tugs whenever Marko hit a certain spot.

“Fuck, baby — you got the prettiest tits,” Paul groaned, busying himself with kissing and groping your breasts, dexterous hands caressing wherever he could. “Marko being good to you?” He asked, lips twitching into a rather bemused grin. His brother had a tendency to tease — Paul wanted to make sure that you got your release.

Marko smirked; he was devious, mind working to concoct some plan to torment you. He was gleefully tonguing at your cunt as he fed from your menses, chin steeped in gore. He was the picture of mischief, gaze gleaming with an animalistic fervor.

The curly-headed leech hadn’t bothered to touch your clit very much either, but you nodded nonetheless. You wouldn’t be able to find anyone else who gave as good of head as Paul did. There was nothing like him.

“Nothing like him?” Marko’s sardonic lull pulled you from the heat of the moment, goosebumps rising along the length of your spine. Another unfortunate downside of living with vampires — their mind-reading. You gulped, listening to Paul’s heckling howls of laughter as you peered toward Marko.

“D’aw, don’t get jealous, Marko! She knows who she belongs to.” Paul grinned, pressing a sloppy kiss against your jaw, leaving behind trace amounts of blood, which he happily licked away. “That’s why she’s my mate.” His teeth glinted in the low light, eyes blazing with a lustful fire as he squeezed your chin.

Unconvinced, Marko’s lips curled slightly, mouth hotly returning to your still-weeping cunt. You were so close, teetering on the edge of your climax as you moaned, hips jolting forward. It had become a competition, but unfortunately, Paul was still miles ahead.

At last, those angelic lips of his pursed around your clit, stimulating that sensitive clutch of nerves. Marko was undeniably greedy, adding a slight graze of his teeth as he lapped at your menses. The burn in his throat had diminished, but only by a sliver — he’d go feed on some unsuspecting tourist later.

Your body spasmed, trembling with an explosive bliss as your thighs threatened to smother Marko. Thankfully, the vampire was quick, pinning you apart as he lapped at your clit, swiftly interchanging his ministrations. It was enough to send you careening over the edge.

Paul seemed appeased by this, having to adjust his jeans to relieve some of the friction. Your breath came in excitable huffs, moans tapering off into the cave, reverberating throughout the alcove. Marko didn’t stop, still lapping at your cunt with an eagerness in an attempt to feed just a little more.

Marko growled, drinking in your menses, intermingled with that of your cum as cleaned you up. Paul seemed mildly disappointed that it wasn’t him down there, but there would be plenty of chances.

“Gonna make her explode,” Paul chided, reaching over to shove Marko’s head away from between your legs. Marko’s expression was one of displeasure, but he’d gotten what he wanted, licking at his lips; as satisfied as a cat who’d just caught the canary. “Think she feels better.” He affirmed, pressing kisses all over your face.

You did.

The relief would be temporary, but you were beyond grateful, panting and quivering as you came down from your climax. Perspiration danced along the length of your spine, manifesting as a cold dew. Paul was attentive, hand rubbing into the small of your back as he hopped off of the bed, retrieving a new shirt for you.

It happened to be his, a shredded, dirty Metallica shirt that he’d worn on a handful of occasions. You were still recovering from it all, watching as Marko stood up from between your legs, licking his lips as if he’d eaten something delectable.

“Thank you, Marko.” You mumbled, noticing the blonde’s devilish smirk as he tossed you the box of tampons. “This was you?” That was a surprise — you assumed that it was Paul’s doing. He was much more into giving you gifts like that.

Marko shrugged, but Paul was cackling, grinning at his brother with a sense of understanding. “He’s got a crush on you.” He guffawed, watching as you got dressed — if a shirt and panties counted as such. “I don’t blame him.” Paul purred, giving you another affectionate kiss against your cheek as he slapped your backside.

You noticed that your previous pair of panties were mysteriously missing — but you didn’t say anything, utilizing the tampons gifted to you before clearing your throat. “Can we go to yours, Paul?” You asked softly, wanting to go to his nest, instead. It was much more lived-in and vibrant than yours.

“Sure thing,” He hummed, head cocking to one side. “Don’t you wanna say goodnight to Marko?” Paul mused, planting his hands against your shoulders. You seemed a little flustered but nodded nonetheless, feeling his lips meld against yours in a reassuring kiss. “I’ll be waiting for you.” His teeth nipped at your jaw before he disappeared through the thick curtains.

Tension hung heavy in the air, thick like an inescapable haze as you stared at Marko. You didn’t know what to say, but he beat you to it.

“Will you let me take you out sometime?” He asked, head cocked to one side. Paul must’ve known about this already — otherwise, there would’ve been some sort of rift or protest. Marko’s chin was still stained in your blood, which made your stomach do excitable flips.

“Yeah,” You nodded, stepping forward to wipe off his chin with your discarded shirt. “Thanks for … That.” Heat crawled across your flesh as Marko grabbed your wrists, dragging you in for an invasive kiss. His tongue greedily meshed with yours, enough to make your head spin, feeling dizzy with desire.

The kiss made your heart race — it was different from Paul’s kisses. Marko was always dancing along that fine line of danger, but Paul was, oddly enough, a little more docile. Both were just as satisfying as the other. Either way, you were whimpering, hapless as you moved your mouth against his.

Marko withdrew, angelic countenance reminding you of a fiendish imp instead of a cherub. He swept his hand across your jaw. “Don’t mention it,” He seemed more subdued than he’d been before. “You know who to ask if you need help.” His chuckle was mesmerizing.

You pushed your fingers through his mop of golden curls, chewing at your lower lip. You gave Marko another sweet kiss before the both of you left, Marko going one way, and you wandering toward Paul’s nest.

When you slipped past the mangled web of tapestries and curtains, Paul was laying on his bed, legs kicked up against the rocky wall as he smirked at you. “He asked you?” He inquired, propping himself up on one arm. You were surprised, but admittedly, you shouldn’t have been.

“Yeah,” You murmured, shuffling forward until you sat down next to Paul. The blonde immediately grabbed you, hauling you on top of him as he snuggled his face into your clothed breasts, which made you giggle. “Paul, you know that I’m yours, right? I don’t want us to stop.” You gushed, worried that he’d leave you because of this.

“I know,” Paul mused, grinning up at you with that wonderfully stupid expression of his. “You can be his side meal,” He snorted at his own ridiculous joke, palms caressing and massaging into your hips. It was a nice feeling. “S’long as you’re still my mate.”

“Of course.” You nodded, grabbing his face with your hands, leaning in to give him a sweet kiss. Paul exhaled, sitting up fully to hold you, letting you straddle his lap as he began to kiss you back. It was a rather foul concoction of your blood and his own saliva. “ … Did you steal my panties, by the way?” You mumbled.

Paul snickered, playfully quirking an eyebrow as he jerked his chin toward the entrance of his nest.

“You’ll have to ask Marko.”

[sad-ghost-of-garbage]

Biting Paul Drabble

Author: SadGhostofGarbage

Paul x G/N reader

Warnings: So very lightly suggestive I guess

The next boy to be hit with the surprise teeth attack. Inspiration from the beautiful and wonderful @britany1997​ thank you baby! This was her idea I just wrote it 😂 I also might do a part two. Here’s part 2

Paul’s love language was physical touch there was no denying that. As his lover your body was a canvas for marks of his love, and you were never blank. Paul was also spacey and fidgety; he often spaces off and while his mind wanders so do his hands. He would absentmindedly grab at you when he was off in his own mind, grabbing at your hips and his hands would always find their way under your shirt to caress your skin. You have never minded this habit of his, until recently. Normally it would be Paul’s hands wandering exploring your body, but as of late his teeth have been mindlessly finding their way into your flesh. It’s gotten to the point of having to wear long sleeves, so people don’t ask questions. Having Paul’s fangs piercing your skin is euphoric and intimate, not something you want the entire boardwalk seeing when your lover inevitably spaces off. It’s become quite the problem recently, after having pissed David off for breaking the no “PDV public display of vampirism” rule. You had to figure out something and fast, because you suspected that half of the time, Paul’s been doing it on purpose and getting away with it. Then you had an idea, maybe you could get the point across.

Paul was mid rant with Marko arguing over what the different colors of paint taste like. Paul thought burnt sienna tasted like maple while Marko swears it tasted like mahogany.

“Mahogany isn’t even a flavor Marko you’re bull-shitting!”

“It is too a flavor! You’re just not sophisticated enough to understand the complexity of the flavor.”

“Complexity of flavor!? It’s wood, it would taste like TREE!” Paul was getting so riled up over paint, you would laugh but you were on a mission. Walking up to the pair of bone-headed blondes Marko asks your opinion,

“What do you think y/n?” 

“I think Paul tastes like sour cherry candy.” 

“What-“ before either boy could ask you grabbed Paul by the arm and bit hard into his bicep. Releasing his flesh from your teeth you pull back and give him a sharp look,

“Not fun huh, keep your fangs in your mouth pretty boy.” Turning and walking away filled with confidence and a bit of smugness, you were sure he got the message.

Paul had definitely got a message; it was not the message you wanted to send. Paul was left dumbfounded, mouth agape, and dick rock hard. Marko was just as confused until he saw the way his brother was watching you walk away. Then the gremlin started cackling and fell to the floor. Paul didn’t care about his brother's teasing, the only thing on his mind was, getting you to do that again. 

[dreamties]

Slashers W/ an S/O Who Writes Love Poems

A/n- Requested by @slashert4t , I hope you like how this came out! Reader is gender neutral <33

T/W: the Billy & Stu one is kinda angsty so like. watch out lol and...Norman's. Loves I'm so sorry haha

Characters: Daniel Robitaille (Candyman), Norman Bates, The Lost Boys, JD, Billy Loomis & Stu Macher, Helen Lyle

Taglist: @strawberry-moonpies —> send in an ask if you’d like to be added! :)

Candyman (Daniel Robitaille)

Daniel??? Who’s lips speak nothing but sweet nectar? Who’s so soft spoken and wise and somehow holds you in his mind above all else? That Daniel??

part of what attracted him to you in the first place, was how you could see him and your first instinct not be scared and disturbed. Worried and careful, but not afraid that you’d come to harm. You saw him as a person first (or- ghost?), as himself, as Daniel Robitaille— and then as the legend.

it’s like falling in love with you all over again!

he feels. . .seen. So important in your eyes.

ohmygod wait, using some the lines to write them in blood against the walls of his victims? Like ughhhh that would be so fucked and morbid out of context (but it would be weirdly sweet if you find out through the news and find. Oh. That’s your writing. Daniel’s been thinking about you, huh?)

Norman Bates

I think I talked about this for the long distance HCs I did but uhh.

Norman abso-freaking-lutely writes you letters!

so maybe it started as a tradition, of giving letters to each other. Long distance or not. Norman finds it so soothing. It’s much easier to write all his feelings down than speak it aloud— you must feel a little like that too, right? He can’t be alone in that feeling :(

you surprise him one day, with the prettiest words dedicated to only him. He’s so happy holy cow :’( he’s gonna tear up a bit, but he’s so bashful about it. You might not even notice that he’s crying, if it weren’t for how long you were together; you know his tells now.

Mother may attempt to “protect” him and not let him read the letters. Kind of like, the part of him that doesn’t think he deserves this nice thing or thinks it too good to be true.

he’ll need some reassurances but hey, if you’re able to print your heart on the page for him, I think you can muster some courage to comfort him when he needs it <3

(im so sorry for the angst babes)

The Lost Boys

all the boys have pretty similar feelings??? but MUCH different reactions.

David has a secret soft spot and has written both men and women, in his past, love letters. Not quite poems...but not too far off from what you're doing....right??? And he's also received many a poem and letter from previous (human) lovers.

he keeps his favorites tucked away on the inside of his jacket

I feel like Dwayne has dabbled a bit in it.

Paul is a fucking goof but I promise...somewhere around his brain...hidden beneath some layers maybe?? he can be serious about things. He'll kiss you and tell you that he loves you. And if the poem was just for him, he'll be a little obnoxious and show it off to the rest of the lost boys. It only really gets under David's skin.

Marko!! my dear!! my chaotic, small energy creature <33

Recreating portions of the poem in embroidery or paint on patches of his own, to add to his jacket.

some of the boys stick them into the section of the cave they sleep, or the common area, as a sort of decoration.

JD

just about dies when you first show him one of the pieces

his abandonment issues are strong; but his obsession with you is stronger lmao

He's one of the few folks who will really truly appreciate what you've done. He likes reading, it's one of his tamer pastimes.

he'd like to put these up with some of the greats; the masters. No words but yours know how to tap into him, worm through his head, work it's way as it breaks him apart with gentle, cautious hands.

He's in pieces, dear.

Nothing shows such devotion like this. He'd do anything for you (yes, somehow even more than he already would and wanted to)

He's put back together, healing, as he writes in the margins of a book he'd borrowed from you. He sneaks into your room one night, and slips it into place on your bedside. For you. For you to read when you're alone. To read and find a way to let him know you loved it (you loved HIM more importantly), without fully acknowledging the light BnE.

Billy Loomis & Stu Macher

oh- these boys do Not know how to act!

You're writing them??? notes? in??? in your writing???? for THEM???

utterly flabbergasted.

Stu can and WILL brag about this to his friends lol

Billy is far less openly endearing and appreciative about it than Stu is. he thinks it's so sweet, really. but he has no idea how to properly tell you how much it REALLY means without totally baring his soul to you.

. . .it almost feels like you've already seen him inside out though, with the way you've poured your love onto the page.

it's almost scary how well you know him. . .

expect him to be a little defensive and weird about it when you first show him any of the writings.

it's that whole "I'm so scared of being known" (+ so intimately at that). this coping mechanism from his trauma acts up and makes him pull away.

whether or not you're hesitant to show him again. if you keep trying to connect with him or whatever .

I think his rock, Stu, is ultimately what gets him to really open up. to let himself love you and know you, and vice versa. he's done it once with his boyfriend, he can do it again.

ALSO all of this might change depending on what point in their lives you begin writing and sharing these with them (and I suppose also how long you've been together...but I feel like poems aren't something most do early on in relationships..?)

Billy is more reclusive if it's in high school, in college it's not too different...but he's able to face his feelings just a teeny bit easier <3

Helen Lyle

Helen actually writes you little notes and stuff, but it's usually meant to tease you. Sometimes they're cute and heartfelt, but it's not quite her thing, y'know?

When she starts receiving these poems from you though? Oh my, she is in love. She is really in love.

She half expects the paper to read like something she would've wrote for you. Something silly and dirty and to be read only once or twice, when accidentally found in between the text book pages.

She's so surprised to see it's something so sweet.

The poems really help the two of you bond and show affection towards each other! Especially if you're in a queer relationship, and may need to have things on the down low.

If people see Helen smiling down at her notes, let them think what they want- but they'll never know who it's from or how much it means. It's your special secret between each other <3

[skxllz]

“ damn, you're fuckin’ that up, angel. ”

you paused your chewing to slowly side eye paul.

said blonde was grinning with a mouth full of taco bell's famous crunch wrap. you lot went to the fast-food place because you were craving one of their quesadilla's, so the boys decided to get something for themselves as well.

they never had tried it before believe it or not, and now you have paul and marko hooked. david still seems to prefer human... but he says it's okay. and dwayne just hasn't said anything.

he seems to like his burrito, though.

“ an’ whaboutet - ” you spoke, resuming your chews. sour cream seemed to make a living on the side of your lip, but you paid no mind to it.

paul, however, grinned and jumped a few scoots over to you. leaning forward, thumb outstretched, he swiped over the ‘cream before popping said digit into his mouth.

“ nothin’, ” he casually spoke, sucking away the sour cream. you scrunched your face up at his actions. “ I like to watch my baby eat. means your healthy. ” he shrugged, while turning back towards his own food, taking a bite.

your face softened at his words. he really cares that much?

you always enjoyed the little things, so him saying that warmed your heart.

“ yeah... ” you mumbled, flickering your eyes onto his hunched figure. “ thanks, paulie. ”

he paused, wide blue eyes moving to look at you. swiping his tongue over his bottom lip to catch the sauce, that had dripped. “ for what? ”

you grinned widely at him. “ for being a big dope. ”

[welcometothemurdercapital]

Date Night

Fem!Reader x Paul

This will be part of a larger Poly universe I’m building, I just wanted to post this first. 

A/N: My first attempt at writing for the boy, so hopefully you guys like it. Requests are open so feel free to send anything in. 

TW: Briefing cursing

Date night with Paul! 

Paul was known for being the most carefree of the boys. He was out to enjoy his undead life to the fullest all the time. He rarely cared what anyone else thought of him and did things on his own terms. He took drugs, he flirted with anyone who gave him a second glance, he always walked with a self-confident strut, he listened to music that was way too loud for everyone else and rode his bike the craziest. He was always in a good mood and she found it difficult to be in a bad mood around him.

Due to his mannerisms, people often underestimated him and assumed he had nothing but air between his ears; however, she that was far from true. Like everyone, he had his strengths, and his biggest strength was music. Paul was incredibly knowledgeable about music, and she often found herself in awe of him. His mental library was massive and his ability to recall artist, album, and song title from the first few seconds of a song was incredible.

Sandy’s Jukebox came into her view as he rounded the corner. The building had clearly seen better days, but that was part of the appeal of the popular music store in Santa Carla. The town wore its eccentricity like a badge of honor and a business having a long-standing history of embracing that quirkiness was going to be popular with the locals.

Paul pulled into the parking lot and she sensed his nerves as he turned the bike off, the glare in her eyes from the headlight dying against the storefront window. She grinned against his shoulder before pressing a quick kiss to his cheek and stepping off the bike.

“I did good?” She looked him over, smiling sweetly as he raised a wary eyebrow. She knew Paul often thought of himself the least romantic of the boys and worried he didn’t show his thoughtful side enough. She always tried to assuage his fears because she loved him just they way he was for exactly who he was; she wouldn’t change anything about him.

“You did great, baby.” He grinned and pulled her into a bruising kiss.

“Come on.” He lead her inside, throwing a nonchalant “sup” to Carl the cashier as they passed.

They immediately began perusing the aisles looking at each record. Music was a passion they shared and they were constantly trading artists and playing random music they found in the rockbox. She liked to think she expanded his musical horizons, but deep down she knew that wasn’t true. He was a stubborn ass vampire and if he didn’t want to listen to something then he would just take the tape out and put in whatever he wanted.

“Paulie!” His head popped up and it reminded her of a gopher sticking its head out of a hole. She tried to hold in her giggle as he tilted his head in confusion.

“What?” She shook her head and focused back on the album in her hand.

“This song is very appropriate.” She said holding up the Police album Synchronicity.

“Which one?” He looked over the aisle to try and see what she was holding. 

“Every Breathe You Take.” She said pushing the album closer. It took him less than a second to recall the aforementioned song before he shot an award winning smile at her.

“Aww babe, you know we’re always watching you.” She gave him a deadpan look as his teasing grin only grew.

“Comforting.” Paul just shot her one last look before disappearing down another aisle.

“Oh, I like this one.” She called out to him holding up the Let’s Dance album. Whenever Bowie was played it always amped up the boys and made for a good night. Her and Paul could never stop themselves from dancing around the cave trying to get the boys to join in.

“Bowie, can’t go wrong with him.” He agreed. Her eyes trailed over the various album covers and fell on the red cover of Rebel Yell album by Billy Idol.

“Hey, this looks like David.” She grinned and held up the album. Paul let out a barking laugh and pointed in with a boisterous grin. Neither of them paid any mind to the other people in the store looking at them disapprovingly.

“You are so fuckin’ right! You should get that for him.” He agreed. She found his happiness infectious and stared at the album with a happy sigh.

“He is quite attractive.” She nodded before putting it with the others she had set aside. She knew the only reason she found him attractive was because he reminded her of David.

“You be sure to tell David how hot you find Billy Idol, I’m sure he’ll love that.” Paul giggled, surely imagining how the conversation would go. She merely rolled her eyes with a smile before continuing her record search.

“What about Fleetwood Mac?” She asked holding up the Rumors album. Paul looked over and scrunched his nose and shook his head, his jacket jingling at the movement. She could only think of how cute he looked, and she wanted to see him do it more. God, she loved him so much. She was tempted to continue suggesting albums she knew he would hate only so she could see that look on his face again.

“I think that’s an only you album babe. Maybe Star would listen with you. She seems into that hippie shit.”

“You guys kill me sometimes. No culture.” She shook her head at their lack of culture before putting album back.

“Psh, only had to happen to me once.” He grinned causing her to roll her eyes with an exasperated shake of her head.

They wandered separately for a while, continuously calling out to the other with an album held up to recommend it. She enjoyed these types of dates with any of the boys, where they were just chilling and spending time together, not necessarily doing anything particularly important.

“You can be my pretty young thing.” Paul teased sliding up behind her and motioning to the Thriller album in front of her. She wasn’t even surprised Michael Jackson was in his musical rotation despite looking like he just stepped off the Twisted Sister tour bus.

“You think I’m young?” She teased as he chuckled in her ear. He began absentmindedly mouthing at her neck, paying close attention to her pulse point.

“Compared to me everyone is young.” He reminded her.

“Somehow any sweet sentiment you meant has now been lost.” She said with a roll of her eyes and drop of her shoulders. Paul just giggled and playfully bit her neck before releasing her so he could continue browsing.

“I think everyone will like this one.” She grinned as she held up the cassette for Oingo Boingo’s Dead Man’s Party. “I fully admit that I am basing this entirely on the song titles.” She giggled. Paul read some of the titles: Dead Man’s Party, No One Lives Forever, Same Man I was Before, and grinned at her.

“Good choice babe. If not, they need to grow a sense of humor.” He agreed before pocketing it.

She flipped through each album trying to imagine if Paul would enjoy it and actually play it in the cave. She wanted to find the album that succinctly screamed Paul at her and she was prepared to be patient to find it.

“Whatcha lookin’ at?” He asked coming up behind her and burying his face in her neck. He was very big on physical touch, second only to Marko, and usually found some way to be always touching her whenever they were out.

“Oi, no peeking pretty boy. I’m trying to find the perfect album for you.” She gave the minimalist attempt at pushing him off causing him to let out a low chuckle right into her ear. 

“Appetite for Destruction is a great choice.” He mumbled, nipping at her skin. She sighed at the pleasure that flooded her body at his ministrations. He was always so in tune with her body and knew all the right spots to make her putty in his hands.

“Psh, too easy.” She shook her head.

“Besides, have you seen that one guys’ hair. He’s clearly copying me.” She had no idea who he was talking about, but she’d take his word for it.

“Sure, whatever helps you sleep during the day bud.” She laughed. Paul let a low growl and grinded his hips against her ass.

“I’ll tell you what’ll help me sleep like a baby.”

“Fuck.” She whispered dropping her head back against his shoulder. He knew how to turn her on in an instant and she wasn’t ashamed of it.

She was quickly spun around before his lips urgently pressed against hers. She fisted the lapels of his jacket, the coins jingling at the movement, and pulled him closer pressing every bit of him against her. She happily met his tongue with her own as he harshly gripped her hips. He pressed his growing erection against her and swallowed her wanton moan before pulling back and trailing kisses down her neck. He dragged his tongue across her skin and grinned at the goosebumps that followed.

“You drive me absolutely crazy, baby.” He groaned giving a shallow thrust as he continued sucking and biting into her skin. She could feel his fangs had begun to emerge.

“Paul…” Her voice carried a warning but it was also sultry and dripping with lust.

“What do you say we get out of her before we give these people too much of a show.” He mumbled as his fangs lightly dragged across her skin. She grinned and nodded, laughing as he all but yanked her out the door.