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#the lost boys 1987
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Wanted to draw/practice some of these outfit finds I saw on Pinterest that inspired me for Chrysta's look in my Lost Boys Fic The White Wedding AU, and just wanted to see how she'd look in a couple! So here's some of the outfits she'd wear around the ruins of the Chapel [And a few I think the boys would like to see her in 👀] Along with her original sacrificial gown. Lemme know which one looks best on her~
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Prompts 8 and 14 with Poly lost boys? (If not Poly, I’ll be good with any of them-)
8. Quiet, she has just fallen asleep!
14. Are you alright?
Thank you so much for requesting! I hope you like this!💜
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The house was quiet. Maria had gone off to work at the videostore, and Shelly had gone out to meet with her boyfriend Greg. Normally, I would have put some music on, doing some chores or making some art now that they were gone. But not today. I woke up feeling off. I had hoped that after some breakfast and some coffee, it would be over, but alas, it only got worse. So that's why I found myself lying on the couch, with the remote control of the telly in my hand. I still hadn't put it on, knowing that the sound - no matter how soft it could be - would only worsen the headache I had.
I closed my eyes as I felt another pang of pain flashing through my head. The headache had been there all day, but now it was slowly but surely turning into a splitting headache. I knew I couldn't ignore it any longer and made my way to the kitchen. Somewhere, in one of the cabinets, I was certain I'd have a package with aspirin. I sighed as I entered the kitchen, seeing the dirty dishes piling out of the sink. The remains of our lunch were lying on the kitchen island. It was a mess. Normally, I wouldn't mind cleaning it up, but now, the thought alone made me want to cry. God, I felt sick.
I opened the cupboard, realising that the package I had had been used up by my housemates. The only thing left of it was the empty box. I sighed as I threw it in the bin, deciding that I'd have to go to the drugstore. I got dressed in some comfortable yet more appropriate clothing - I didn't want to go outside in my pyjamas - and put my shoes on. After locating my keys on the dining room table, I headed outside - only to return to put a jacket on. It was surprisingly cold outside.
As I walked down the street, I was a little relieved to realise that the sun was setting already. It meant that my boyfriends would be going to the boardwalk soon. As much as the idea of being in a brightly lit, loud space didn't appeal to me, the idea of being with them and near them did.
The door to the drugstore opened with a soft tinkle as I pushed it open, the bell above the door signalling my presence. It was quiet inside, the only other customer an old lady. I greeted her quietly before searching the aisles for what I needed. I didn't pay attention when I heard the bell ring, nor did I pay attention to the space around me. So, when I found the brand I needed, and made a move to grab it, I bumped into someone.
"Oh my god, I'm so-"
"Shit, you look like shit babe!" I looked up and saw that I had bumped into Marko. I gave him a watery smile.
"I kind of feel like it, I think it hay-fever or something."
Marko nodded, his hand resting on my forehead to check my temperature. "I think it's a bit more than that."
"Fever?"
"Yeah, a bit. Come on," he took the medicine I wanted and walked towards the checkout. "You're staying with us tonight."
"Weren't you going to the boardwalk?"
"You're more important. Santa Carla won't forget who owns the place if we don't show up one night."
I nodded, taking a deep breath. It was suddenly really warm inside. "What were you doing here?"
"Paul's been complaining about a lack of liquorice in the cave."
"He really likes that stuff?"
"Apparently. We can't all be perfect," he paid for the liquorice and the aspirin, also asking for a bottle of water. He grabbed our stuff, opening the door for me. Once we were outside, I stopped walking for a moment, taking some deep breaths.
"Are you alright?"
I shook my head slightly. " 'm feeling a little faint."
"Go and sit down, alright?" He handed me the bottle of water and the aspirin. "Have you eaten today?"
I shrugged as I took a sip. "Wasn't hungry."
"You actually got the liquorice!" I looked up as I saw Paul appearing out of thin air in front of me. "And you got our gir- Jesus, you look like shit."
I nodded, feeling a little less faint than before. I heard the loud rumble of motorcycles, and I knew that Dwayne and David were also here now. I looked up, smiling tiredly as David walked towards me.
"Hey."
"Hey darlin'," he helped me stand up, looking me over as I did. I felt myself tremble a little. Maybe Marko was right, and this was more than allergies. "Let's get you home. Do you think you can hold on?"
I nodded, climbing on the back of his bike, and holding on to him tightly.
"We need some food, see if there's a store open so you can get her some fruit and bread and such."
"Sure thing. Is there anything you'd like?" Paul looked at me, and I shook my head. He nodded, kissing me softly on my forehead before driving off. Marko handed Dwayne the stuff we'd just bought, saying he'd be home shortly. He had to feed. Dwayne drove next to us, both David and him driving slower than usual. I was glad they did, mainly because their usual driving style was close to nauseating. Besides, with them driving slower, the chances of me gliding off were slimmer. I closed my eyes for a bit, a sudden tiredness overwhelming me.
"Don't fall asleep, love."
" 'm not." I mumbled, holding on a little tighter.
"We're almost home, then you can sleep all you want."
Dwayne was true to his word. Less than five minutes later, we stopped at the edge of the cliff leading towards the cave. Without a word, Dwayne lifted me up, carrying me in his arms down the stairs and into the lobby of the sunken hotel.
"Couch or bed?"
"Couch," I said softly, trying to stiffle a yawn, "Don't want to be alone."
"Alright, love."
He carefully laid me down on the couch, taking some pillows from Star's bed to make sure I was comfortable. David brought me the blanket I normally used while staying here, a thick and soft fabric covering the whole thing. I mumbled a soft thank you.
"How long have you been feeling sick?" David asked, crouching down next to me, brushing some hair out of my face.
"Since this morning."
"It's probably just a cold or a flu. Is the aspirin helping?"
"A little, I guess?"
He gave me a soft smile, getting up. I closed my eyes, drifting in and out of consciousness before sleep finally came.
I don't know how much time passed before I woke up, but when I did, I could hear an annoyed Dwayne hiss something at Paul and Marko.
"Quiet, she has just fallen asleep!"
"Ah shit, sorry, babe!" Paul whisper yelled at me, causing me to sleepily open my eyes.
" 's okay," I nodded, looking at them.
"I know you said you didn't want anything from the store, but I also brought you some cookies and chocolate."
I smiled tiredly, wincing as I felt my headache return. "Thank you, hon."
"If you're not feeling better tomorrow, we could give you some blood to speed up the healing process?" Marko offered. I bit my lip, not knowing whether I'd like that or not. I did feel sick, but to drink blood? "Just think about it, alright?"
"Yeah."
He smiled before looking outside. The sky was turning a bright red. He went to the back of the cave, climbing through the liftshaft. Dwayne and Paul followed. I pulled my blanket closer against me, curling up, when I felt a pair of arms lifting me up.
"Hm?"
"We're staying with you today, sweetheart."
" 's nice," I mumbled sleepily, already dosing off as he brought me to the bedroom. I was asleep before I even hit the pillow, my boys surrounding me, making sure I'd be okay.
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williamprattz · 3 days
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more lost boy studies
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beestungdog · 2 days
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Ok. No hate (but kinda am), am i the only one who finds shipping the lost boys together gross? I mean, theyre brothers. Even if they werent born from the same parents they all drank max's blood, making max their dad from blood relation, making the lost boys blood related. And even if you argue thats not what the drinking of the blood means, all throughout the movie they are described as Max's children, making them brothers by description.
Idk, seeing ship art of them together or people making posts about shipping them always made me uncomfy because the movie describes them as brothers, it just feels so icky.
Especially since no where throughout the movie are they seen being romantic with each other, which just adds on to the fact that they probably SEE each other as brothers even if they technically arent (which im pretty sure they technically are).
Maybe im just autistic and taking the familial terms in the movie too seriously but im starting to think me and like half of the lost boys fandom watched a different movie 😭😭😭
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darlingnikkisixx · 3 days
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The Lost Boys (1987) Behind The Scenes (Part 2)
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gothamslostboy · 17 hours
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David when he realizes Michael is being fr about trying to kill him and it isn’t just playful flirting
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lost-in-the-shadows · 3 months
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"Vampires are hot. They're the only erotic monsters. Frankenstein is not hot."
Joel Schumacher, talking about why he made The Lost Boys (1987)
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bornfreakdraws · 1 month
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*arrives 37 years late to the party* so uhhh 'The Lost Boys' (1987) huh
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good morning
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jars-artcollection · 8 months
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watched the lost boys 1987
Reblogs are appreciated but do not repost
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Marko is next up. His hair and jacket were definitely challenging but man has he got pretty eyes ♥️
David
Dwayne
Paul
Michael
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I don't think anyone is talking enough about the fact that The Lost Boys aren't exactly hot... They're just straight up gorgeous.
Like- when I see them, I don't think handsome or hot, or attractive, I think drop dead beautiful. Like- Marko is literally compared to a Greek statue of GODS. Don't get me started on Paul cause oh my sweet heavens he's just tooth rotting pretty 🫠 His big blue eyes and that smile he gives Michael at the cave- OH MY GOOODDD
And Dwayne.... Oh Dwayne is gonna be the death of be cause he's gorgeous AND hot. He's that perfect mix of rugged and alluring. I swear when he's got that stare at the in the video store or when they pull up to Michael I'm- [YALL KNOW THE ONE] Oh look I'm pregnant all of the sudden AHA
And David, my one and only David...🤤 He's got big blue eyes and pretty long eyelashes and a jaw sharp enough to cut through diamonds... THAT MAN IS MORE THAN JUST SEXY, HE'S BREATH TAKING TO LOOK AT 😫 even when he dies for crying out loud he's lookin like a fallen Angel I can't EVEN- *throws table*
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Note
Could I get prompt 7 with a female tourist reader passing through Santa Carla with Marko?👀
7. I am freezing, can I borrow your coat?
Absolutely! I hope you like this, and thanks for requesting!💜
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In a city like Santa Carla, it was hard to truly stand out. Everyone was their own kind of crazy, and it took a certain something to truly stand out. That's why the town was such a haven for the undead, the unknown, and the unnatural. To stand out, there had to be something unique or special about them - at least for humans. For a vampire, it took less. A certain smell, a certain blood type - or the lack of all of these things.
Maybe that was why Marko had kept an eye on her all night, wondering why his eyes kept being drawn to her. She didn't smell any different than any other women around, she didn't have a rare bloodtype... no, based on scent alone she was just like any other women in the crowd. And yet - he couldn't quite put a finger on it.
I had noticed the stares he gave me, when I joined the crowds. When I went to a small concert at the beach, following the show up with a drink at a bar. Wherever I went, I felt his eyes upon me. And if I was being honest, it unnerved me quite a bit.
When I got out of the bar I saw him staring at me again, little over ten feet away. I took a small breath, deciding that this was it. I walked towards him, head held high, ready to tell him I was done with him being a creep when-
"Oh my gosh, I am so sorry!" An old woman had bumped right into me, holding what could only be described as a bucket that was once filled with ice cold water. I was totally drenched, shivering as the wind picked up. "You must forgive me, dear, I didn't see you-"
"Yeah," I waved her off, "sure. Don't worry about it." I stepped past her, frowning when I realised that the boy that had been staring wasn't there.
As I walked over the boardwalk, searching for the boy - or man, whatever his age was - I couldn't help but shiver. I was still wet, and the wind was only getting stronger. I couldn't stay like this much longer, and I decided to head in to the next restaurant to see if I could order some tea and some soup to warm up.
The only store that was still open is the Chinese restaurant at the corner of the walk, and with a small sigh I pushed the door open. The smell of rice and noodles hit my nose instantly. I went up to the counter, placing my order for a tea and some noodle soup when I saw him.
"You!" I looked at him. "You've been staring at me all night!"
"I have."
I blinked. He didn't even deny it. That was weird, right?
"Why?"
"You're different."
"Why?" I asked it again, sliding in the seat across from him.
"I don't know."
"I don't like being stared at. If I catch you again, I will -"
"You'll what?" He asked, sounding more curious than threatening. I shrugged slightly.
"I don't know, burn your eyes out, or cut them out or something."
He chuckled. "Then I'll make sure you won't catch me."
I glared at him, causing him to grin. He kept looking at me, taking me in.
"You're shivering."
I bit my tongue as I looked at him. He wanted to play all flirty all night? Fine, I could play that game too.
"I am freezing, can I borrow your coat?"
Now it was his turn to be taken aback.
"Bit forward."
"So is staring."
"It's different."
"It's not, though. I was serious about my question, I feel like I'm turning into an icecube here."
He sighed as he took his jacket of, handing it to me.
"I'm Marko."
I smiled as I took the jacket, putting it on. It was large and incredibly warm - I instantly felt better. When he told me his name, I decided I would tell him mine. Maybe we got off on the wrong foot here.
"Am I really that different?" I asked as the waitress brought me my tea and soup.
"It's mainly your attitude. I can't really describe it."
"But it's obvious enough to stare?"
"You looked back, though."
I nodded as I sipped my tea. "I did. Maybe I wanted to know who I was dealing with."
"What would you have done, if you hadn't been doused with water?"
"I'd probably would have yelled at you, called you a creep and depending on your response I might have hit you in the face."
"You had a plan."
I grinned at him, quite enjoying his presence. "Absolutely. Never go anywhere without it."
"So, what's your plan with my coat?"
"Hm," I thought for a moment, eating some bites of my soup, "I'm keeping it hostage."
"You're keeping my coat hostage?"
"Yes."
"Why?"
"That way you have a definite reason to pick me up tomorrow evening."
I smiled at him causing him to laugh. Yeah, as unnerving as his staring had been, he was fun. The banter had been proof of that.
"Alright. How about I also drop you off tonight?"
"I wouldn't mind that. But I'm still keeping your jacket."
"I'll take it back tomorrow."
"We'll see," I grinned, placing some bills on the table and standing up. His order was called out, and he led me outside to his bike.
Marko grinned as he felt her arms wrapped tightly around him. He still wasn't sure what she was to him or why, but he knew that he wouldn't kill her. Something about her made it impossible to do so. Besides, he liked her company. As he drove through the streets towards her motel, he couldn't help but feel as if this was all somehow exactly how it was supposed to be.
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sunkendreams · 4 months
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kickstart my heart.
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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.”
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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!
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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.
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happy summerween
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The Lost Boys (1987) Behind The Scenes (Part 3)
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