bookshelf-dust

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SUPERMAN (2025) dir. James Gunn

+ Kara

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no thoughts. just Kiefer Sutherland in Flashback…

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The Lost Boys (1987)

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all the david girlies know that loving david is fighting the urge to pin him down and devour him or beat his ass 🫡 i’m so glad you enjoyed this one!!!! at one point i felt like i wasn’t writing him right at all, so i’m thrilled you thought he turned out alright!!!

you’re in luck though…i’m writing more for him as we speak!! 👀

heaven is a vampire

david powers x fem!reader

gif by @filmgifs

word count: 3,888

warnings: swearing, smoking, making out, vampiric themes??

synopsis: you seem to make david malfunction. but when you finally crack him open, it’s more than worth it.

a/n: i had SO much fun writing this, you have no idea. david has me in a chokehold and what better way to embrace that than to share my insanity with you? this man consumes my every waking thought. he’s knocked every other hyper-fixation of mine clear out of the park. he’s made himself comfortable and he’s here to stay. this fic is dedicated to my own chaos twin @clovermunson who has valiantly supported my obsession with this evil little cutie pie. shoutout to my fellow david girlies—i hope you enjoy!! <3

————

It’s a quiet night at the video store. Which is expected, considering it’s a Thursday. You should be grateful though—weekends are the scariest. You never thought you’d be okay working a shift late into the evening, but since summer started, you’ve come to enjoy it. In the spring, when it still got dark fairly early, everything had a sleepy haze to it. 

The check-out counter is smack in the middle of the shop, and since the doors are never closed, you get to watch the sunset without any obstruction. You get to joke with the regulars about the new tan lines they bring in each week or about how they’re grateful to work long hours because at least they’re not out in this heat. The boardwalk comes alive after dark. All the lights come on, the music gets louder—and so does the laughter. It cools down too, but not enough that it’s cold. The breeze turns warm and wraps around your shoulders to carry you home. 

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

Visitors. 

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

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

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

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

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

“Hi, Marko,” you say. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hi, David.” 

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

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

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

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

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

“You, uh, you got plans after this?” 

Oh, he’s so nervous. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“We might!” Marko and Paul shout.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh, thanks then. Means a lot.”

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

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

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

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

“Because I don’t wanna eat you.”

You blink. “...Bummer?”

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

“I wanna keep you around.”

“This is so romantic.”

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

“Oh, does it?”

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

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

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

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

“I’m gonna take you home now.”

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

“And I’ll come get you tomorrow.”

————

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Paul snorts. “No way!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’ll think about it.”

————

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

[bookshelf-dust]

You guys know how when you stay up all night reading fanfics and imagining having a soft romance while you fall asleep, pretending you're falling asleep with your favorite character and then the next morning you wake up and feel super lonely and empty.

Oh...just me? 😐😐

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Kiefer Sutherland in Young Guns I & II [½]

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Are you taking requests for the lost boys?

hey sweetheart!! i am not! however, if you ever wanna pop in my inbox just to yap about the boys, i would be more than thrilled to yap with you over them!!! ♥️

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so I got into grad school today with my shitty 2.8 gpa and the moral of the story is reblog those good luck posts for the love of god

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“Then he’s slapping his hands over his glasses and turning around. ‘I won’t look, promise.’”

Clark x shy! reader was soo freaking cuteeeeee babe i need more. Maybe their first date or first time staying the night with each other, where reader is flustered and clark remedies it

Love your writing queen

thank u so much lovely!! (part 2 of this request, but can be read as standalone!) | 0.9k, fluff, word girl used in reference to reader <3

Clark Kent is in your shower.

A month ago, you never would have believed it. It was the kind of thing that really only happened in your dreams. Now, though, you can hear the sound of the water running. The sound of something falling and a muffled curse, too.

So yes, he is actually in your shower and he is also sort of your boyfriend. Almost.

You’ve only been on a handful of dates, but you’ve known Clark long enough — have had feelings for him long enough — to know that this is the kind of thing that just feels good and easy and right.

Clark had already been planning on asking you out when Lois told him to “please put that poor girl out of her misery” and that was the final push. Not that he needed it.

He’s different outside of work, you’ve learned. Somehow even sweeter and sometimes you have to pinch yourself when he isn’t looking just to make sure that this is real.

Tonight is one of those times, because he’s spending the night for the first time. Because you’re waiting on your bed, straightening pillows and fixing the sheets while he’s showering feet away.

Especially because he walks out of your bathroom with sweatpants hanging low on his waist and his t-shirt stuck halfway over his head.

And you’re not blind. So of course your eyes flick down to his chest and his stomach, still a little damp. Of course you can’t bring yourself to look away or move until he clears his throat “A little help?”

“Oh!”

You walk over to him and find the hem of his shirt. It’s all rolled and twisted against his back, and he has to bend his knees a little to help you reach it properly. Your fingers brush against his skin as you tug it down into place, and it feels like touching a piece of art.

Clark’s hair is a wet mess when he gets his head through the neckline, and you smile as you fix that, too. He straightens when you’re done, takes your wrist into one hand and kisses your palm.

“Thanks. Got stuck on my glasses.”

“Mm, I think you did that on purpose. Ulterior motives and all.”

Clark doesn’t tell you that he did not in fact get stuck in his shirt on purpose — he really is that awkward. He knows you’re not the type to initiate things very often, and he relishes the feeling of your hands on him, of you near him in any way.

He simply smiles, a little guilty, something close to smug but not so conceited. “Uh huh. And thanks for the shower.”

You feel like you should be thanking him. It’s a surreal kind of intimacy to see him this way, to have him in your apartment, smelling like your soap.

“The water pressure’s not the best. And I got you a toothbrush.” You pick a piece of lint from his shoulder, “Do you need anything else?”

Clark has yet to stop grinning. “I’m perfect, stop worrying about me.”

“I always worry,” you shrug, shoulder to your cheek.

It’s then that he notices that you’re still in your work clothes, too focused on your face and your hands on him before. “Aren’t you gonna get comfy? I mean, I love those pants, but surely you don’t wanna hit the hay in them.”

“‘Hit the hay,’” you repeat. Such a dork.

A dork that still makes you nervous. Not as bad as you had been before, but there are still moments when you’re not sure how to act around him.

He levels you with a kind, pleading look. Be honest, he’s asking you.

You sigh, face turned away to mumble “My pajamas aren’t sexy.”

Clark gently nudges you to face him again with a knuckle to your chin. “Honey, clothes don’t make you sexy, it’s the other way around. If you’re worried about what I’ll think, don’t. I think you’re beautiful in anything because you’re you.”

He says it like it’s simple. A fact.

Then he’s slapping his hands over his glasses and turning around. “I won’t look, promise.”

It’s so sweet you could cry. There isn’t a judgemental bone in his body when it comes to you, and each time you’re reminded of that you fall for him a little more.

So, you get up and go to your dresser and change. Clark listens to the sound of your feet against the floors, the drawers being pulled open. When he hears you slipping your clothes off, he thinks he could come undone from the sound alone.

Once you’re changed into a pair of boxer shorts and a baggy shirt with a neckline so stretched it nearly hangs off your shoulder, you’re climbing onto your bed and tapping Clark’s shoulder. “Okay. Done.”

He turns around, smiles that dimpled smile again and gets you both settled under the covers.

He’s facing you, glasses still on, cheek pressed into your floral pillowcase, hand pushing the hair from your face. “Told you you’d look pretty.”

“Don’t be fooled. There’s a hole in the armpit of this shirt.”

He shifts to his back, both hands finding the armpit seam of his own tee, and rips it. “There, now we match.”

“Clark! I’m sewing that up tomorrow,” you say. A pause, then: “Do you need another pillow? Sorry my bed’s kinda small.”

He tugs you close and pulls your face to his chest, effectively silencing your worries with the steady rise and fall of his breathing.

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my #1 hype woman 🥹 i made the ending so ambiguous that i tricked myself into wanting more…needless to say i’m heading back to the trenches (a blank document) for this man

heaven is a vampire

david powers x fem!reader

gif by @filmgifs

word count: 3,888

warnings: swearing, smoking, making out, vampiric themes??

synopsis: you seem to make david malfunction. but when you finally crack him open, it’s more than worth it.

a/n: i had SO much fun writing this, you have no idea. david has me in a chokehold and what better way to embrace that than to share my insanity with you? this man consumes my every waking thought. he’s knocked every other hyper-fixation of mine clear out of the park. he’s made himself comfortable and he’s here to stay. this fic is dedicated to my own chaos twin @clovermunson who has valiantly supported my obsession with this evil little cutie pie. shoutout to my fellow david girlies—i hope you enjoy!! <3

————

It’s a quiet night at the video store. Which is expected, considering it’s a Thursday. You should be grateful though—weekends are the scariest. You never thought you’d be okay working a shift late into the evening, but since summer started, you’ve come to enjoy it. In the spring, when it still got dark fairly early, everything had a sleepy haze to it. 

The check-out counter is smack in the middle of the shop, and since the doors are never closed, you get to watch the sunset without any obstruction. You get to joke with the regulars about the new tan lines they bring in each week or about how they’re grateful to work long hours because at least they’re not out in this heat. The boardwalk comes alive after dark. All the lights come on, the music gets louder—and so does the laughter. It cools down too, but not enough that it’s cold. The breeze turns warm and wraps around your shoulders to carry you home. 

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

Visitors. 

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

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

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

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

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

“Hi, Marko,” you say. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hi, David.” 

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

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

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

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

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

“You, uh, you got plans after this?” 

Oh, he’s so nervous. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“We might!” Marko and Paul shout.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh, thanks then. Means a lot.”

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

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

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

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

“Because I don’t wanna eat you.”

You blink. “...Bummer?”

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

“I wanna keep you around.”

“This is so romantic.”

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

“Oh, does it?”

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

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

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

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

“I’m gonna take you home now.”

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

“And I’ll come get you tomorrow.”

————

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Paul snorts. “No way!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’ll think about it.”

————

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

[bookshelf-dust]

you using this fic as a pre-game for a rewatch is quite possibly the best compliment i could ever receive 🤧

heaven is a vampire

david powers x fem!reader

gif by @filmgifs

word count: 3,888

warnings: swearing, smoking, making out, vampiric themes??

synopsis: you seem to make david malfunction. but when you finally crack him open, it’s more than worth it.

a/n: i had SO much fun writing this, you have no idea. david has me in a chokehold and what better way to embrace that than to share my insanity with you? this man consumes my every waking thought. he’s knocked every other hyper-fixation of mine clear out of the park. he’s made himself comfortable and he’s here to stay. this fic is dedicated to my own chaos twin @clovermunson who has valiantly supported my obsession with this evil little cutie pie. shoutout to my fellow david girlies—i hope you enjoy!! <3

————

It’s a quiet night at the video store. Which is expected, considering it’s a Thursday. You should be grateful though—weekends are the scariest. You never thought you’d be okay working a shift late into the evening, but since summer started, you’ve come to enjoy it. In the spring, when it still got dark fairly early, everything had a sleepy haze to it. 

The check-out counter is smack in the middle of the shop, and since the doors are never closed, you get to watch the sunset without any obstruction. You get to joke with the regulars about the new tan lines they bring in each week or about how they’re grateful to work long hours because at least they’re not out in this heat. The boardwalk comes alive after dark. All the lights come on, the music gets louder—and so does the laughter. It cools down too, but not enough that it’s cold. The breeze turns warm and wraps around your shoulders to carry you home. 

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

Visitors. 

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

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

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

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

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

“Hi, Marko,” you say. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hi, David.” 

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

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

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

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

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

“You, uh, you got plans after this?” 

Oh, he’s so nervous. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“We might!” Marko and Paul shout.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh, thanks then. Means a lot.”

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

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

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

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

“Because I don’t wanna eat you.”

You blink. “...Bummer?”

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

“I wanna keep you around.”

“This is so romantic.”

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

“Oh, does it?”

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

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

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

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

“I’m gonna take you home now.”

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

“And I’ll come get you tomorrow.”

————

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Paul snorts. “No way!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’ll think about it.”

————

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

[bookshelf-dust]

heaven is a vampire

david powers x fem!reader

gif by @filmgifs

word count: 3,888

warnings: swearing, smoking, making out, vampiric themes??

synopsis: you seem to make david malfunction. but when you finally crack him open, it’s more than worth it.

a/n: i had SO much fun writing this, you have no idea. david has me in a chokehold and what better way to embrace that than to share my insanity with you? this man consumes my every waking thought. he’s knocked every other hyper-fixation of mine clear out of the park. he’s made himself comfortable and he’s here to stay. this fic is dedicated to my own chaos twin @clovermunson who has valiantly supported my obsession with this evil little cutie pie. shoutout to my fellow david girlies—i hope you enjoy!! <3

————

It’s a quiet night at the video store. Which is expected, considering it’s a Thursday. You should be grateful though—weekends are the scariest. You never thought you’d be okay working a shift late into the evening, but since summer started, you’ve come to enjoy it. In the spring, when it still got dark fairly early, everything had a sleepy haze to it. 

The check-out counter is smack in the middle of the shop, and since the doors are never closed, you get to watch the sunset without any obstruction. You get to joke with the regulars about the new tan lines they bring in each week or about how they’re grateful to work long hours because at least they’re not out in this heat. The boardwalk comes alive after dark. All the lights come on, the music gets louder—and so does the laughter. It cools down too, but not enough that it’s cold. The breeze turns warm and wraps around your shoulders to carry you home. 

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

Visitors. 

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

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

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

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

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

“Hi, Marko,” you say. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hi, David.” 

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

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

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

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

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

“You, uh, you got plans after this?” 

Oh, he’s so nervous. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“We might!” Marko and Paul shout.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh, thanks then. Means a lot.”

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

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

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

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

“Because I don’t wanna eat you.”

You blink. “...Bummer?”

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

“I wanna keep you around.”

“This is so romantic.”

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

“Oh, does it?”

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

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

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

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

“I’m gonna take you home now.”

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

“And I’ll come get you tomorrow.”

————

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Paul snorts. “No way!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’ll think about it.”

————

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

[bookshelf-dust]

I feel like one night alone with this man would ✨️ cure me ✨️

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i went through so many emotions reading this but i’m left wanting more and that feels like the most important thing to say here 🥴 reader having literally altered david’s brain without actually doing anything?? simp behavior i love his dumb fucking ass

☆Fatal Charm - David X Reader☆

⯎ Warnings: vampire typical hypnotism, I try writing romance and this is what happens, blood-drinking, is the reader into it? who's to say

♡Authors note♡ I have never written x reader before so you're not allowed to be mean to me, this is also completely unstructured and fairly short (because I'm lazy), I don't write often and I just wanted to give it a go :3. The target audience for this is me and me alone <3. If this is out of character please do not tell me, I enjoy making shit up 😌

"It's getting late, I should really go."

"No, I think you're gonna stay for a few more minutes."

Gloved hands take a hold of your own as he moves closer to you; something about his voice pulls you in, almost hypnotic. Everything seems to slow down as you feel yourself falling into a daze. He continues talking but his words fall on deaf ears. You try your best to concentrate but he sounds muffled, distant. It's becoming a slog to think anything remotely coherent; you go to speak but you can't find the words.

You can't stop staring at his eyes.

One leather clad hand slowly reaches up to hold your face, stroking your cheek with his thumb; his touch is gentle in an attempt to be reassuring but you can't shake the lingering feeling of unease.

There you both sit on a beat up old couch, nothing but soft firelight to illuminate the spacious cave you currently find yourself in. You don't remember him bringing you here.

He speaks once more and this time you understand him.

"What's the matter, doll? Your heart's beating awful fast."

As soon as those words leave his mouth you feel that something's definitely wrong. Muddy thoughts try to recount the events that led to this but the physical contact keeps you in the present, like he doesn't want you to question anything. There was something off about him you couldn't pinpoint. A gleam in his eyes that felt dangerous. You're conflicted; you know you should go but some morbid curiosity gnaws at your mind telling you to stay. It doesn't feel like your own thoughts- instead, an invasive force willing you to stay right where you are under his gaze.

Whispers echo in your head as you continue to stare at this stranger, the voices too fast and quiet to make out. Your mind's all in a jumble before they even out.

Stay with me.

He moves; his hand wandering from your face to brush your hair away before slowly ghosting over your neck, eyes darting back and forth between your face and the exposed area. His other hand stays gently placed around yours; his thumb rubbing circles on your wrist, feeling your pulse. He smells of smoke, this would usually deter you but for some reason everything about his presence seems to lure you in. The sensation of leather on your skin continues to keep you in a lull. It would almost feel nice if it weren't for the way he was looking at you.

He leans in, peppering kisses along your jaw and down your neck before he stops. His mouth hovers over your skin and you feel a small shaky breath escape him. He lets out a gentle hum of contentment before it turns into a purr. A warning noise before he strikes. Your breath hitches in anticipation, your heart pounding in your chest so loud you can hear it. The sound of your heartbeat entices him; he tries to hold back a little longer, savouring the moment before giving in.

And there it is. Pain. A quick sharp pain before abruptly fizzling out. Replaced by something else. Not a bad feeling, no. An odd one. Something was being taken, drawn out from you at an agonising pace; a yelp of protest turns into a moan as you don't try to fight. Minutes tick by as his face stays pressed against your neck, the hunger takes him over completely as if he'd been starved; he tries to contain himself, slowing down to take in every part of you. To him you were utterly intoxicating.

You feel something wet run down your collarbone but your mind's too fuzzy to comprehend it. It isn't until the feeling stops and he looks back up at you do you realise what's happened.

Piercing gold eyes stare into your very soul; he's panting like an animal, mouth dripping with blood. Fangs contort into an amused grin as you helplessly gawp at him like a deer in headlights. Clearly taking pleasure in watching everything click in your mind. Hand still in yours he brings it up to his face, you feel sharp teeth graze your fingers before turning your hand to softly kiss the outside of your palm.

The contact sends a shiver down your spine and it's as if a floodgate in your head opens up.

Racing thoughts hit you like a bus as you're suddenly released from whatever spell he had you under. The suddenness of it all makes you feel nauseous as the room spins. Your thoughts are once again your own as bits and pieces of the evening return to you. The roar of motorcycle engines, the dizzying lights of the boardwalk and then him. David.

There's still holes in your memory but just enough comes back for you to remember you had followed him willingly.

Was this what you'd wanted?

The air of mystery around him, the thrill of his lifestyle had left you craving answers. You'd needed to know more about him. Night after night of seeing him on the boardwalk and you'd finally mustered up the courage to approach him. One vague introduction later and you were hooked. He practically screamed danger but at the time it didn't matter, if anything it drew you in more. The need to step out of your comfort zone, the need to feel alive, motivated you to seek him out. The leader of this Santa Carla gang had you enthralled. Completely and utterly fascinated.

"C'mon sweetheart, I don't bite."

Like some sort of adrenaline junkie you'd accepted his offer of a ride and now here you were. Curiosity killed the cat you suppose.

Now you're stuck in a cave with a vampire who's taken a shine to you. You were his victim.

You should be scared. You should. You should be screaming for help. Pushing him away, fighting him, doing anything at all to get out. But you don't. You've accepted it. Him.

The blood loss finally gets to you; you feel weak, dizziness overtakes you and you slump forward, slipping into unconsciousness. Your body goes limp in his arms and he does his best to steady you; moving to place your head against his shoulder, almost cradling you, as he breathes in your scent.

He sits in silence for a moment contemplating something before letting out a shaky sigh;

"...Fuck."

This was a bad night for him. He tried his best, he really did; he'd tried to calm you down, make it easier to feed. He went too far, you'd just become borderline unresponsive instead. He usually liked more of a reaction; some fear, a scream- anything. He usually revelled in the pain and confusion of his victims but he just couldn't bring himself to do it with you. You threw him off his game, he couldn't admit to himself that he liked you. A pretty face drawn to danger. Drawn to him. It had been a while since he viewed a human as more than food; he wasn't used to that feeling, and he wasn't sure he liked it either. What would that make you? A pet? That doesn't feel right.

He didn't take enough to kill you. He made sure of that. It took all his strength to stop himself. You'll never know how desperately he wanted to take it all, to savour you. The moment he saw you all that occupied his thoughts was how incredible you'd taste, how fun you'd be to toy with. But after feeling you lean into his touch, feeling the warmth of your body, something changed. He'd changed.

He'd changed his mind- he wanted you alive. For now, at least.

[bookshelf-dust]

Tad is the kind of guy who would be at a place like this at this time of the morning. He is either your best self or your worst self, you’re not sure which.

Michael J. Fox as JAMIE CONWAY & Kiefer Sutherland as TAD ALLAGASH in BRIGHT LIGHTS, BIG CITY (1988)

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i need to be sandwiched between them in bed right damn now do you hear me!! and if i can’t put some makeup on paul’s cute ass face soon?? i’m gonna fucking explode 👿

☆…━━━━━·:*☆…━━━━━·:*☆…━━━━━·:*☆

𝕿𝖍𝖊 𝕷𝖔𝖘𝖙 𝕭𝖔𝖞𝖘

⋆˙⟡♡ PAIRING ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ Paul and Dwayne x fem reader ۶𖹭ৎ

⋆ ˚｡⋆ SYNOPSIS ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆ Exploring the dynamics of the Poly! Lost boys between Dwayne and Paul with reader

⋆˙⟡♡ AUTHORS NOTE ˚୨୧⋆ I'll probably come back to keep editing this, but it's been sitting for so long I just want it out 😭

✧ ⁺  𝔀𝓪𝓻𝓷𝓲𝓷𝓰𝓼 ⋆｡˚ ⋆ reader has long hair, drug usage from Paul, just mushy vampire fluff stuff

☆…━━━━━·:*☆…━━━━━·:*☆…━━━━━·:*☆

They both meet each other quite well in regards to being the 'peacekeepers' of the group. Paul is floaty and Passionate, Dwayne is broody and deep. Their personalities balance each other out, their combined company keeping everything calm whilst maintaining the playfulness.

Dwayne smoothes over Paul's erratic chaos, and Paul lures out Dwayne's subtle playfulness.

ℌ𝔢𝔞𝔡𝔠𝔞𝔫𝔬𝔫𝔰

·:*☆ Calm, but fun boardwalk outings

Late night walks beneath the stars whilst tucked under their leather clad arms, calm and serene as Paul occasionally drags the three of you into record stores or ice-cream stalls. Being fed cotton candy whilst they try to win as many stuffed toy prizes for you as possible to add to your nest in their cave.

·:*☆ Onslaught of teasing

Paul is teasing and flirty, and Dwayne is an unassuming accomplice.

Paul's words are often alluring and made to fluster you, and paired with Dwayne's heated stares and dark eyes, they're trouble.

They balance each other perfectly- one sedates, the other encourages.

It's gentle. Heated and deep, but always gentle and drawn out.

·:*☆ Paul gets amused by how flustered Dwayne makes you

Cupping Paul’s face, you carefully apply to dark metallic blue eyeliner against his waterline. Your actions gentle and precise. It's difficult to see in the flickering warm candlelight.

He's sat by your vanity, upon the pretty plush velvet chair the boys had found in the unexplored derelict of the cave. An accumulation of pretty shells and jewellery already collecting upon the vanity thanks to Marko.

He’s not blinking, his gaze focused on you. Soft and awe filled.

“Hey Dwayne, doesn’t our girl look so pretty ?”.

He coos, the pad of his thumb brushing lightly against your hip bone, his hands rested on your hips. Holding you.

Dwayne’s eyes meet yours, and you feel the skin of your neck flush with heat. He speaks, the tension still hot. His voice a soft low purr. Sincere.

“She’s beautiful”.

At some point Paul coaxes you to settle on his thigh, legs parted to fit you between them. His arms are locked loosely around you now, his palm fitting against the soft curve of your waist.

Paul chuckles a soft breathy laugh, humming a kiss against your temple whilst gathering your hair away from your shoulders and neck, letting it tumble down your back. Dwayne’s palm meets the soft velvet of the side of your neck, cupping it appreciatively. Not squeezing- but the possessive weight of it settled there is enough to make your heart flutter.

"Awe, y'making her shy". Paul teases with a lilting fondness, his cheek resting against your head. You can hear his grin in his words.

"Am I?". Dwayne murmurs, soft and growly. Both a teasing remark, but also an inquisitive concern.

You make a sort of squeaky, embarrassed noise, and they both chuckle softly. Amused and endeared.

Paul hums contently, his arms wrapped around you firmly and possessively. His nose nestled against your hair, inhaling deeply.

“Geez- can y’hear her heartbeat? Going crazy, go easy on her man”.

Dwayne hums darkly before soothing a kiss against your exposed throat. Almost apologetic. Almost. The kiss is slow and hungry, like he's savouring you.

"Think' he wants to eat you up babe". The wild blonde murmurs against your ear, his tone teasing.

"You're both so mean". You hiss, heat tingling at the skin of your neck and face.

They laugh, soft chuckles filling the serene cave.

"We know". Dwayne whispers.

·:*☆ They provide passionate yet calming company

If you want a moment to chill and be in the moment, these are your guys.

They'll happily flank your sides and sit quietly with you. Paul laid back with a spliff, drifting away whilst holding your hand to keep you close. Dwayne thigh to thigh with you, rubbing your back with his head appreciatively tucked against yours, your cheek nestled on his leather clad shoulder.

The boombox is playing something low and soft, the echo of waves crashing outside the mouth of the cave.

Dwayne feels your head dip lower on his shoulder, as if you were about to fall asleep sitting up.

"You tired?". Dwayne mutters, soft and low against your ear.

You yawn and shake your head, eyes fighting to stay open.

"no... I'm ok".

Paul blows smoke away from you and slumps backwards against the bed of plush blankets and pillows they had accumulated for you.

"C'mere baby, have a nap, yeah?".

He pats his chest invitingly. Sleepily, you comply without hesitation.

Your cheek rests against his chest, his skin chilled and clammy, void of a heartbeat.

Dwayne lays down behind you, his arm going slack over your waist and his face nestled against your neck. Pressing slow, languid kisses over your shoulder.

"oh". Paul rumbles a laugh, sighing a soft coo as he wipes a little drool off your chin. "You are tired babe".

"it's ok. You can fall asleep, we've got you".

Dwayne reassures in a soft low purr against your skin.

Sleep finds you easily like this with them wrapped around you.

ℜ𝔢𝔩𝔞𝔱𝔦𝔬𝔫𝔰𝔥𝔦𝔭 𝔗𝔯𝔬𝔭𝔢𝔰

♡ calm water x wild breeze

Dwayne is the water- illusive and calm and deep, whilst Paul is the chippy breeze. Wild and untamed, and together they're the surface of rippling water. Serene and peaceful, but also similar to choppy seaspray. Wild and untamed, something you can't predict.

♡ the warmth of the sun x the chill of the moon

Paul is bright and energetic like sunbeams, and Dwayne is calm and mysterious like the moon. Both bathing you in attentive light that keeps you warm and accompanied so you never feel lonely.

𝔏𝔬𝔳𝔢 𝔏𝔞𝔫𝔤𝔲𝔞𝔤𝔢

. Quality time

They both appreciate spending time with you in their own ways. Dwayne enjoys the peaceful moments with you, like walks on the beach or spending time together under the moonlight. Paul enjoys simply lounging with you on a bed or couch, with you tucked nice and securely in his arms. They can meet in the middle- intimate and sleepy late night picnics on the secluded areas of the beach, or cuddle piles in the cave.

. Words of affirmation

Between Paul’s recreational drug usage induced rambles and love sonnets, and Dwayne’s abrupt yet deeply meaningful reassurances and compliments, they both share this language in common. Paul’s are vulnerable breathless confessions against your lips, his mouth filled with smoke and pretty words. Dwayne’s are carefully thought out remarks and promises, all spoken softly and lowly like secrets meant only for you to hear.

. Physical touch

Out of the two, Paul easily exceeds in physical touch.

Dwayne is more subtle and meaningful with his touches, and is often content watching you get swept up sweetly in Paul’s arms.

Still, they both enjoy it in their own way. It's easy to get sandwiched by those two.

ℜ𝔢𝔩𝔞𝔱𝔦𝔬𝔫𝔰𝔥𝔦𝔭 𝔰𝔬𝔫𝔤

. I was made for loving you

[bookshelf-dust]