justnatoka

[justnatoka]

this is my very first non anon request! hehee :>

could u do either a fluff or a smut (or maybe even a fluffly smut) where the reader is taking a bubble bath with vinny and include him making himself a little bubble beard? please i'm sobbing just thinking about this. 🥺🥺

also, idc how many time i've said it i'll still say it again, you are amazing and i love your work and i love you! okayy byye <33 🤸‍♀️

┊ 𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐌𝐀𝐓 ⠀ཾ༵࿇ ˼ — 𝙙𝙧𝙖𝙗𝙗𝙡𝙚.

┊ 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆(𝐒) ⠀ཾ༵࿇ ˼ — 𝙫𝙞𝙣𝙘𝙚𝙣𝙩 𝙨𝙞𝙣𝙘𝙡𝙖𝙞𝙧 𝙭 𝙖𝙛𝙖𝙗!𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧.

┊ 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 ⠀ཾ༵࿇ ˼ — 𝙉𝙎𝙁𝙒-𝙞𝙨𝙝 𝙪𝙣𝙙𝙚𝙧𝙩𝙤𝙣𝙚𝙨, 𝙢𝙞𝙡𝙙 𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙖𝙢𝙞𝙣𝙚𝙨𝙨, 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙞𝙨 𝙥𝙧𝙚𝙩𝙩𝙮 𝙬𝙝𝙤𝙡𝙚𝙨𝙤𝙢𝙚 𝙤𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙬𝙞𝙨𝙚.

┊ 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓 ⠀ཾ༵࿇ ˼ — 2,422.

┊ 𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒 ⠀ཾ༵࿇ ˼ — 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙣𝙠 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙨𝙤 𝙫𝙚𝙧𝙮 𝙢𝙪𝙘𝙝 𝙛𝙤𝙧 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙧𝙚𝙦𝙪𝙚𝙨𝙩 & 𝙛𝙤𝙧 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙠𝙞𝙣𝙙 𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙙𝙨! 𝙄’𝙢 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙡𝙡𝙮 𝙚𝙡𝙖𝙩𝙚𝙙 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙚𝙣𝙟𝙤𝙮 𝙢𝙮 𝙘𝙤𝙣𝙩𝙚𝙣𝙩! 𝙄 𝙩𝙝𝙤𝙪𝙜𝙝𝙩 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙧𝙚𝙦𝙪𝙚𝙨𝙩 𝙬𝙖𝙨 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙡𝙡𝙮 𝙨𝙬𝙚𝙚𝙩, 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙞𝙩 𝙩𝙪𝙧𝙣𝙚𝙙 𝙤𝙪𝙩 𝙩𝙤 𝙗𝙚 𝙬𝙖𝙮 𝙢𝙤𝙧𝙚 𝙛𝙡𝙪𝙛𝙛 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙣 𝙄 𝙩𝙝𝙤𝙪𝙜𝙝𝙩! 𝙄 𝙝𝙤𝙥𝙚 𝙮’𝙖𝙡𝙡 𝙚𝙣𝙟𝙤𝙮! ❤️

┊ 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓⠀ཾ༵࿇ ˼ — @peachygothgirl ; @mrs-heelshire ; @slasherfantasy ; @loraxlola ; @the-wordis-bird ; @suguruswife ; @vincent-sinclair-deserved-better ; @iamcautiouslyoptimistic ; @lttlegore ; @mehidktbh ; @darklylucid ; @liquid-beepers ; @callmemeelah ; @the-anxious-youth ; @dootys ; @bloodwithpeachmilk

Sparkling rays of sunlight glistened through dusty windowpanes, dawn’s first light glaring down upon both you and Vincent, who was contentedly snoozing away between your legs. It was orange, blaring across purple skies as any inkling of dusk began to drain, being replaced with hues of blues and lilacs.

A soft hum escaped you, feeling Vincent’s head nestle against your stomach, arms wrapped tightly around you. He was pretty like this, dark hair all disheveled from sleep, in some tangle around his shoulders. He was wearing a long-sleeved shirt and pajama pants that seemed a little to snug — not that you minded.

His mask was neatly perched atop the small, rickety nightstand to the left of your creaking mattress. The more you and Vincent really dived into your relationship, the more he was comfortable with taking the mask off.

Vincent’s tall, lanky musculature was all sprawled out and wedged in between your legs — that's how you usually slept sometimes, and you loved it. You trailed your fingers throughout his tresses, gently working out any knots you came across, listening to his breathing and the little flutter within his throat.

It was a rarity for the two of you to not be sleeping down in the basement, but Vincent had a change of heart just for last night, and so the two of you slept in your dismal bedroom. It was made all the more comfortable with Vincent around, at least.

The Louisiana sun was exceptionally warm at such an early hour, even when it cascaded through the windows. Those glittering, orange rays fell across your bed, a sliver hitting your face. You promptly wriggled to the side, carefully avoiding the growing light as if you were some sort of vampire.

Those calloused, nimble hands that had squeezed into your waist happened to stir, and there was movement from below as Vincent began to wake up, slowly but surely. Your fingers ceased within his hair, recoiling toward your chest. A throaty hum escaped him, head tilting in your direction, finding your visage.

His smile was faint, barely noticeable, but present nonetheless as your palm cupped his scarred cheek, fingertips caressing around his nose. Vincent made some sort of purring sound, intermingled with a guttural grunt, turning his face just enough to kiss your hand. Such a simplistic gesture made you get all hot.

“Hey,” You crooned, feeling Vincent take ahold of your other hand. Grogginess began to wear off of the both of you, the hour still relatively early. He acknowledged your whisper with a little nod of his head, caressing his thumb across your knuckles. “Did you sleep well?”

Vincent released your hand, only for a moment, answering your question with a series of sluggish signing, ‘I did, thanks to you,’ That made you smile, exuberant and smitten, and it was worthwhile. ‘What about you? Are you alright?’

You nodded, pushing a hand through your disheveled tresses, lounging back against the pillows with a dopey, contented smile. These sort of mornings were always your favorites, the lazy ones where Vincent was completely and utterly at ease. “Peachy.” You snicker, shrugging your shoulders. “Do you want to take a bath?”

Of course, your inquiry is met with plenty of enthusiasm. Vincent lets out a throaty noise of approval, pressing his lips against your midsection, or what little skin is exposed, at least. ‘Five more minutes.’ Vincent signs, gently easing your shirt up as he peppers your body in sweet kisses.

Goosebumps form along the base of your spine, pleasant tingles that make your heart beat just a little faster. His roughened mouth feels heavenly against your soft skin, especially so early. The gentle noises you make are bound to become moans if he keeps it up, creeping up from between your legs. His mouth settles against your breast, eyes fluttering toward your face for only a moment.

You’re counting down the minutes within the back of your mind, just for punctuality’s sake. Your lips fall agape, a softer gasp being elicited from you as Vincent’s mouth wraps around one of your nipples, slowly sucking and kissing. Your eyes nearly close completely, sinking into some half-lidded stare.

The sensations he delivers are perfect each and every time, always practiced with the perfect amount of compassion and neediness. Vincent’s lips are everywhere, slowly tugging away from your breast, kissing the valley between, dancing across your collarbone, until he comes right up to your own mouth instead.

Like fire and ice, the clash is intoxicating, your kiss is enough to make Vincent groan. His hands are splayed out across your waist, his taller, lanky musculature almost fully on top of you, not that you mind. You trail your fingers through his dark tresses, shuddering beneath him as you let the kiss last just another moment longer.

“Bath time, Van Gogh.” You mumble, and you can hear his throat burst with a chortle of raspy, hoarse laughter. That’s not the first time you’ve called him that, and it certainly won’t be the last — his reaction to the little nickname is always endearing.

Vincent moves out from between your legs, his weight leaving you as he stands up fully. He towers over you, opting to leave his mask on your nightstand for now. He follows behind you, practically glued to your back as the both of you make your way inside of the washroom, and he’s the one who shuts and latches the door — no peeping brother allowed.

Moving toward the bathtub, you start the water, making sure it’s set toward the hotter end. Swatting the curtain aside, your gaze flutters toward Vincent, who’s busy taking his shirt off, tossing the garment onto the floor. It makes you flustered, even if you’ve seen him like this many times before.

As you sit against the edge of the tub, idly bouncing your leg, you barely notice Vincent coming to stand in between your legs, crouching down until he’s nearly eye-level with you. Those familiar hands of his settle themselves atop your thighs, kneading into your supple curves, planting a kiss against your cheek.

“You’re sweet, you know that?” You giggle, unbelievably smitten with him, your skin all warm. There’s a flicker of amusement within Vincent’s adoring stare, and he gently squeezes your legs.

‘And so are you.’ Vincent releases your legs long enough to sign, settling his chin against your thigh, peering at you with his one eye, a darker blue that reminds you of an ocean. ‘You’re my masterpiece.’ There’s a sense of familiarity within those words specifically — it makes your heart soar.

With a stuttered exhale, you can feel your chest tightening with a flurry of mushy emotions, and you realize just how much you love Vincent. It’s more than he believes he’s deserving of, deep down, but he accepts any shred that you give him, he covets it. You lean down to give him a kiss, something sweet and lingering before you lean back to feel the water.

It’s warm enough, prompting you to move to take off your clothes. Vincent watches, completely and utterly mesmerized by you, tossing your clothes into a heap to join his. You aren’t wearing very much, climbing into the bathtub as you wait for him to join you.

Vincent is swift to clamor in after you, ditching the rest of his clothes beside the growing heap, moving into the water until he’s sitting in front of you, drawing the curtains closed. It’s still illuminated enough above the bathtub, the old fan rattling every so often.

You’re adding plenty of soap into the water, making it all bubbly and sudsy, but it all smells like some wild concoction of perfumes. Vincent’s nose wrinkles, but you don’t seem to mind it whatsoever. He nudges your thigh, effectively gaining your attention as you’re pulled away from grabbing the shampoo.

‘May I?’ Vincent points toward your head, offering to wash your hair, and that’s an opportunity you aren’t about to turn down. With a cheeky smile, you hand off the shampoo to him, wading forward before turning yourself around, careful not to slosh any water outside of the tub.

His knees stick out from beneath the water, and Vincent looks amusingly large within the bathtub. He’s quick to hover over you, chest nearly pressed against your back as he globs a handful of some floral shampoo into his palms. Vincent treats your head with plenty of gentleness, perusing his fingers against your scalp, letting it all lather.

Admittedly, it feels fantastic. You probably could’ve fallen asleep this way, but you careen back into his touch instead, a soft exhale escaping you. “Feels good,” You mumble, leaning into his chest with a tender smile. “Thanks.” You sigh, letting him wash your head and your hair to his heart’s content.

Vincent peppers your shoulder with kisses, rinsing your tresses out with handfuls of water, letting it all wash away back into the sudsy basin below. He’s meticulous and sluggish, intentionally dragging it all out, touching you as much as possible. A delightful purr escapes him when you bring one of his hands around, kissing his knuckles.

He adores having you all to himself like this — you aren’t exactly privy to the depths of Vincent’s obsession with you, but it runs so very deep. It’s a festering, volatile obsession, one that will rear its ugly head whenever Bo is around you, intertwined with possessiveness. Every little fiber of your being belongs to him, and he won’t let you go.

Soft giggles escape you as Vincent nestles his face into your neck, having completely cleansed your head of any soap. He’s kept himself busy with one hand, letting it slither between your legs, stroking at the silky expanse of your inner thighs.

Every touch lacks hesitation or shyness as Vincent presses passionate kisses against your throat, his hand wandering wherever he pleases, caressing into your thigh. His closeness is enough to give you butterflies, and you’re falling slack within his hold, reclining into him with a soft sigh.

“It’s your turn,” You murmur, and you can feel the faint traces of a smile embedded into your neck. Vincent moves back just a little bit, letting you spin around so you can wash his hair in return. He’s got some sort of twinkle in his eye, an emotion that you can’t quite place. “So handsome.”

Vincent’s breath hitches slightly, as soon as those sweet utterances go spilling forth from your lips. He’s patient, sitting forward with his hand perched toward his knees, feeling your hands preen throughout his tresses. His posture is relaxed, more than you’ve ever seen him be before, slouching into your embrace.

You lather the glob of shampoo into his hair, rocking up onto your knees, slathering the frothy soap wherever you can reach. There are plenty of smells clashing with one another in the washroom, from floral to something a little more cologne-esque. Vincent’s breathing is steady and shallow, his eye becoming half-lidded.

It’s quiet, but it’s nothing more than a comfortable silence. The serenity you feel within that moment outweighs everything else, and you can feel Vincent keening into your hands — it must feel good. You do a thorough job at washing his hair, gingerly massaging around his scalp.

The water sloshes around you every so often, accompanied by the ambiance of the bathroom fan and Vincent’s throaty breathing. You’ve taken plenty of baths with him before, some of them always ending up on the heated side of things, and the tension is certainly palpable. You want to enjoy the moment, the sweetness of it all.

“Alright, we can rinse it.” You lower your hands, but Vincent is busy gathering some of the suds and soapy heaps from both his foamy tresses and the water, forming some sort of beard upon his face. The bark of laughter you let out makes him snicker, too. “You really are Vincent Van Gogh, now.”

There’s a trace of a grin present behind his soapy beard, and your nose wrinkles in amusement. You sit back, watching him dunk his head underneath the water, cleansing away the soap from both his face and his hair. Once he’s finished, he emerges from below with a soft gasp of air.

You’re both clean and sated, sitting close together in the water, and that’s when Vincent kisses your mouth with a sudden flair of passion. The lightheartedness felt moments earlier seem to be sucked away, replaced with a growing desire that makes your stomach do excitable flips.

Poised against your hip, Vincent’s hand tugs you closer, the other cupping your cheek. The kiss is intoxicating, borderline bruising as you careen inward, draping your arms around his neck, fingers gingerly massaging at the nape of his neck. He makes some sort of noise, a growl building up within the back of his throat.

The entanglement nearly becomes heated, and you’re enticed, eyes fluttering shut as you lean into Vincent, head canting to one side as you deepen the kiss. His fingers tense across your cheekbone, sweeping just underneath your eye as he delivers another barrage of kisses against your mouth.

As much as you want to stay that way, you pull away to breathe, the water jostling around the both of you. Your mouth curls into a vibrant smile, eyes glittering, all dazed and so very much in love with Vincent. His expression is subdued, but even then, you can read him better than most — the feelings are reciprocated.

“We should probably get out,” You whisper, your voice hushed as if the two of you are conspiring. “Don’t wanna get all soggy.” You muse, but before you can start to move, his hands are back on your waist, easing you forward, flush against his chest.

It steals the breath from your lungs, the way he looks at you — one would think you made the earth spin and the sun rise above in the skies. Vincent’s stare is nothing short of completely and utterly adoring, and he hesitates, lips parting slightly as he pushes his forehead into yours.

‘Five more minutes,’ Vincent signs, securing his arms back around you, and before you can open your mouth to speak, to tell him how much you love him, he kisses you again. It’s a searing kiss, burning and bristling with passion, swallowing you whole. The sensations are so raw and so visceral, and it’s almost as if you don’t need to say anything at all.

He knows.

[justnatoka]

Look at what arrived in the mail today!! 😍 Of course I had to get two. I'm so excited I could scream!! (I actually kinda did a little bit.) Thank you @poubelle-d-elle for your amazing art! ❤️

Now I need to consider very carefully where I will put these hehehe

[justnatoka]

So unfortunately I won't be able to post this as soon as I wanted to. 🥲 Life is very busy right now (work, meeting with friends before the holidays etc.) and my brain is kinda dead. I don't have the capacity to be creative right now. I don't know when this will be posted but it will be!

Hope everyone stays healthy in this busy season! Don't forget to rest when you can! ❤️

I know I literally just posted a one shot yesterday, but I'm working on a horny little Marko drabble👀 I'm trying to make the most of my days off from work and get as much writing done as I can. 😁

Just wanted to let you guys know that there might be a little something posted soon. Hope you all have a wonderful day! ❤️

[justnatoka]

Fic Writer Asks

Thought it would be fun to make one of these myself

🫓 What is your most popular fic?

🥘 What category do most of your fics fall under?

🍲 When did you start writing and why?

🍱 Do you read your own fics?

🍛 Have any comments, tags or reactions to one of your fics every made you laugh or cry or both?

🍜 Do you ever feel pressured to write?

🍠 How long does it take you to write one of your fics or a chapter/part?

🍢 Have you ever gotten hate on a fic?

🍣 What helps you focus or get in the mood to write?

🍥 What's your favorite fic you've written?

🥮 Do you have any writing milestones you're working toward?

🍡 Which of your fics was the most emotionally difficult to write?

🍘 Is there a fic or idea for a fic that you've abandoned?

🍙 Is there a fic you wish had gotten more attention?

🍚 What genre do you have the toughest time writing?

[justnatoka]

truly nothing more magical than finding a good fic and then going to their profile and finding out there’s a whole goldmine in there of fics just begging to be read. what a beautiful world we live in.

[justnatoka]

I shouldn't be at the club, I should be on the Santa Carla boardwalk in 1987

[justnatoka]

they're back 😔☝️

[justnatoka]

“ 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐁𝐈𝐓𝐄𝐒, 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐁𝐋𝐄𝐄𝐃𝐒. ”

⠀ཾ༵ 𑁍┆ paul (the lost boys) x fem!reader.

┆ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒: an encounter with a familiar face at the boardwalk’s video store leads to a night you’ll never forget.

˹ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 9.0K.

˹ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: smut (mdni), porn with plot, loss of virginity (reader), vampire antics, hint of bloodplay, paul thinks about killing the reader (briefly), dirty talk, making out, pet names, breast play, hair-pulling kink, oral sex (fem!rec), cunnilingus, scent kink, groping, p in v sex, unprotected sex, cowgirl position, finger sucking (brief), catching feelings, cumplay, cliffhanger ending.

˹ 𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫’𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: this was a really good way to come back! I am trying to improve my writing and I felt like this was a good warm-up for what’s to come! I hope you guys enjoy! thanks for your support!

SALTWATER KISSES PEPPER AGAINST YOUR CHEEKS WITH THE GENTLE ROLL OF THE TIDE, WHERE THE OCEAN BRUSHES WITH THE SANDY SHORES OF SANTA CARLA. BONFIRES FLICKER THROUGH A STARLIT DUSK, SURROUNDED BY THE SWAYING BODIES OF ROWDY BEACHGOERS.

Smoke stings your nostrils, the pungent haze of marijuana intermingled with scorched driftwood. A seaside breeze drifts across your shoulders, barely covered with a chiffon shawl as you search the growing crowds for your friends.

Santa Carla was unlike anything you’d experienced before, a nocturnal den crawling with so many unfamiliar faces. You had moved here during the peak of summertime, where school wasn’t in-session and each evening was an endless party.

The lukewarm bottle of Redhook swayed within your hand, half-consumed as you tossed it into the nearest bin. Your steps are sluggish as you wander along the beachfront, finding yourself drawn into the fray of a bustling crowd.

It was almost a different place altogether — day versus dusk, where the boardwalk transformed into a haven for the misbegotten. Wedging yourself into the crowd, you catch a glimpse of some local hair-band performing on the stage.

A hand grabs at your hip, causing you to yelp as you swivel, meeting the exuberant eyes of your friend, Chloe. “There you are!” She exclaimed, nose crinkling in amusement. “Jesus, you scare easily!”

With a nettled huff, you turn, noticing the glossy sheen within her gaze — too much to drink. “You grabbed me,” You insisted, barely able to hear her over the rancor of the crowd. “What’s going on?” Your inquiry nearly dissipated into the background.

“Devin wants to check out that stupid video store, do you want to come with? It shouldn’t be long!” Chloe chimed, catching the wandering eye of some sleaze through the crowd. She waved, but you seemed entirely disinterested.

“Yeah, it’s getting too loud over here,” Following her lead, she grasped ahold of your hand, polished nails snagging on your bracelet. There is a noticeable sashay in her steps. “How much have you had to drink?”

“God, you sound like my mother! I’ve had a few, but I’m fine! Devin is taking me home,” She mused, and you happened to roll your eyes. The position of matriarchal friend had involuntarily fallen to you, not that you minded. “Come on!”

Shuffling through the sand, you make your way up a flight of wooden steps, and you are thankful for the distraction. The rancor of rock music dissipates, devolving into the ambiance of fairgoers and stereos, instead.

Before you moved to California, you wouldn’t have dared to set foot in a place like this — but age and assurance bolstered your confidence. You enjoyed going out to these beachside promenades, even if it wasn’t always your scene.

The eclectic nightlife and view of the beach were satisfactory enough for you, with enough entertainment to last a lifetime. Neon lights from overhanging signs buzz with shades of pink and green, blanketing the boardwalk in an array of vibrant colors.

Video Max was a hotspot in Santa Carla — you’d been there more times than you could count since the move. The idle hum of Corey Hart filled the silence, trickling in over the store’s radio as Chloe hauled you inside.

Devin waved from across the shelves, clutching a copy of John Carpenter’s Halloween in his hand. “Thought you guys got lost!” He piped up, offering you a friendly smile. He was a good friend, and you’d been trying to nudge him toward Chloe since you joined the group.

“Almost,” You mused, feeling Chloe release you from her vice-like hold. It allowed you to peruse the shelves, absentmindedly scanning for any movie that happened to snag your attention. “Halloween isn’t for a few months.”

With a snort, Devin waved a hand in dismissal. “Never too early for scary movies,” For a moment, you watched his gaze shift elsewhere, past you and toward the door. “Jesus, have you ever seen anything like that before?”

Perplexed, you couldn’t help yourself, attempting to crane your head to peer over your shoulder. Much to your chagrin, your staring wasn’t entirely subtle, directed toward the group of guys filing into the video store.

Eccentric was certainly a term to describe the four, who moved in an eerie synchronization, like a pack of wolves prowling for prey. At the helm, the platinum-blonde bore a smug smirk, leading his flock into the fray, closely followed by the dark-haired one, whose expression was indiscernible.

The blonde pair reminded you of chortling hyenas, with the shorter one maintaining a curly mullet and a cheshire grin. It was the taller blonde with crazed tresses that ensnared your attention, his hair disheveled, reminding you of a lion’s mane. His overcoat and stressed, white jeans stuck out like a sore thumb.

The Boardwalk Boys — their infamy was something of a legend in Santa Carla, according to Chloe.

Through parted lips, you turned away, knowing you’d ogled for far too long. Instead, you made small talk with Devin and Chloe, tugging your shawl tighter around your shoulders. “Hey, how long are you guys planning on sticking around?”

“Not sure,” Devin rubbed the back of his neck, nearly catching Chloe from swaying into one of the shelves. “Might need to get this one home, as soon as possible.” He sighed, tone indicative of playfulness instead of exasperation.

“No,” Chloe whined, hanging upon Devin’s arm with an exaggerated pout. She glanced at you, eyes alight with bewilderment and intrigue before she leaned over, ushering you closer. “C’mere.” She whispered.

Concerned, you leaned over conspiratorially, palms planted against the top of the shelf. “You are painfully drunk,” You murmured, unable to mask your laughter as she patted your cheek, manicured nails tapping at your skin. “What, what’s wrong?”

“He’s staring at you,” She murmured, and before you could try to turn and look, she held you in-place. “The blonde one with the stupid overcoat, he keeps checking you out.” Chloe snickered, wiggling her eyebrows.

“What?” The bitter sting of disbelief rippled throughout your chest, a crippling denial that often permeated most of your interactions with boys. You found it hard to believe that one of them would have an inkling of interest.

Devin appeared mildly worried, throat bobbing as he dipped closer, brows furrowing together. “Twisted Sister motherfucker,” He uttered, confirming Chloe’s observations with one snarky remark alone. “He hasn’t stopped looking at you.”

Swallowing the growing lump within your throat, a bundle of nerves made residence within your stomach, gooseflesh raking across your spine. Your resolve splintered at the seams, perspiration breaking out upon your palms.

It was almost as if you could feel his gaze boring a hole through you, a heat so foreign and intense that your throat grew tight. In an attempt to relieve a sliver of anxiousness, you picked at your bracelet, gritting your teeth together.

“Should I say something?” There wasn’t anything inherently malicious about the stranger’s oppressive stare, but you could feel it. Chloe shook her head, prepared to encourage you to go and talk to him until the sound of voices grew closer.

Your streak of charisma seemed to wither then and there, shriveling away like dying leaves. Words turned to ash upon your tongue as the blonde happened to approach, lingering a shelf away as to appear inconspicuous.

“He’s cute,” Chloe slurred, a mischievous twinkle within her eye, a subtle hint for you to relax. Devin appeared less than enthused with her astute observation, but let it rest. “Definitely say something.”

“We need to get you home,” Devin murmured, a twinge of suspicion rippling through him. Anyone who frequented Santa Carla knew about the Boardwalk Boys, but one look alone, and something about them was unsettling. “You okay?”

Steeling yourself, you happened to nod, offering Devin a nervous smile. “Peachy.” With a steady exhale, you turned around, greeted by the wolfish grin of the lion’s mane blonde. He looked as if he had been ripped straight from a metal band, with some savage element to him.

Cerulean hues pierced through your own, stale cologne wafting from him. The cropped, mesh top he wore beneath the seemingly-archaic overcoat caught your eye, offering a teasing glimpse of his musculature.

He was unlike anyone you’d seen before, something peculiar — a wild card, whose charisma bled through from his grin alone. “Kept wonderin’ if you were gonna hide from me,” He crooned, head canting to one side. “I’m not mean and scary, promise.”

“Sorry,” Through a mumbled apology, you felt your features warm, as if you’d stepped into an open flame. Something about his very presence seemed to latch its talons into you. “I guess I got a little shy.” You confessed.

“Nah, don’t worry about it,” His attention shifted to Devin and Chloe. “You mind if I steal her from you?” There was an unusual sincerity within his tone, laced with amusement. “S’long as it’s good with you, ‘course.”

Unexpected chivalry was the last thing you envisioned from this stranger, but you weren’t about to protest, glancing at Devin and Chloe. “You should probably take Chloe home,” You prompted, chewing at the inside of your cheek. “Tell her to call me tomorrow?”

“Yeah,” Devin nodded, partially carrying Chloe against his side. “Be careful, okay?” His pointed statement was primarily directed at your new companion, who playfully crossed his hand over his chest.

“Swear on my life, bro.” His lopsided smirk and chortling was borderline infectious, hues glittering with bemusement as Devin nodded, albeit begrudgingly. You watched as your friends departed Video Max, leaving you to your present company.

Flicking a nail across your bracelet, your attention resumed its full concentration on the man before you, whose wicked style intrigued you. “What’s your name?” Introductions were more awkward than not, but he seemed well-adept at navigating these things.

“Paul, but you can call me anything you want.” His flirtatious nature wasn’t lost upon you, precocious like a playful imp. He stepped closer, leaning against one of the shelves in a casanova manner, eyes beginning to crinkle.

He was endlessly charming, even if you found his pick-up lines to be somewhat outdated. A brief huff of laughter escaped you as you extended your hand, treating him to a sweet smile. “It’s nice to meet you, Paul.”

Your name was freshly emblazoned on his mind, with no intention of fading away. There was something inherently tender about you, a warmth rarely found in this pit of depravity. He liked that, your innocence — it was hard to control himself.

Piety brought out the predator in Paul, whose boisterous personality was something of a magnet to you. Admittedly, he hadn’t seen you before — put a face to a name, let it drive him insane. Your smell was tantalizing, a rich concoction that made him salivate.

Paul stepped closer, weaving around the shelf’s corner as he made residence within your space. Your brief inspection of his attire brought about a multitude of peculiarities, from the tarnished medals clipped to his jacket, to the tattered holes across his white jeans.

“Real nice to meet you, babe,” He crowed, hues shamelessly flickering over your frame. There was a softness to you, unspoiled and supple, akin to some gift that he longed to unwrap. “Wanna ditch this place, head outside?”

The innocuous pet name was merely an extension of his flirtation, something you reveled in. Molten heat swirled within the pit of your stomach, like a flock of butterflies, making you preen with excitement. “Yeah, why not?”

Lodging a toothpick between his teeth, Paul threw an arm around you, palm gently pressing against the small of your back as he guided you outside. The friends he’d come in with glowered as he passed, causing you to subconsciously move into Paul’s side.

As dusk furthered into the later hours, the hour of the bat, the crowds had started to thin. A cluster of scrappy motorcycles sat several feet away, along the wooden bannister. “Don’t mind my brothers, they’re just jealous.”

Brothers? The thought is perplexing — there isn’t much of a resemblance between the four of them, but you settle on the logical path of adoption.

“Jealous?” Incredulity ripples through your tone, as saccharine as sugar. Paul snickers, amused by your own obliviousness — it’s sweet, your humility, but he doesn’t seem surprised. “Why?”

“Why d’you think?” Paul steered you toward the bannister, making himself comfortable at your side. A feeble heat wafted from you, accompanied by the thick haze of your scent. It stung his nostrils, producing a dull burn within his throat.

“Oh,” He got the girl, you think, folding your arms to let them perch atop the railing. “I’ve heard about you guys — the Boardwalk Boys. I didn’t know I’d be speaking to a celebrity tonight.” You teased, tone jocular.

Through a guffaw and a wild grin, Paul nearly bumped his hip into you, twisting the toothpick between his teeth. “We got a bad reputation for bein’ troublesome,” He mused. “Hope you’re not thrown off by that.”

“I’m not,” You insisted, despite your initial hesitation. Casting judgment on someone you knew little about wasn’t fair — and Paul was the most intriguing person you’d spoken to thus far. “Where do you and your brothers live?”

“Don’t have a house,” Paul seemed nonchalant about this fact, placing a boot up upon one of the lower rungs. “We jus’ live in a cave on Hudson’s Bluff — party and slum it.” He noticed the look of astonishment on your face. “Totally legal, by the way.”

Through a furrowed brow and warm features, you canted your head to one side. “You live in a cave? Doesn’t that get —”

“Dangerous?” Paul interjected, grinning like the cat who’d caught the canary. He slithered closer, throwing an arm around your shoulders, ring-adorned fingers tracing over your arm. “Nothing about me is tame, baby.”

Biting back a hiccup, you felt yourself becoming unabashedly smitten, chewing at the inside of your cheek. There was nothing civilized and demure about Paul, who was as wild and unpredictable as they came. The juxtaposition to your pious demeanor clashed with his — in a good way.

Paul thoroughly enjoyed living on the edge, an amalgamation of all things untamed and dangerous. Recklessness was fun for him, like the thrill of the hunt. Sometimes, he let the human facade slip enough to rouse suspicion — David didn’t like that.

His touch was akin to a stab of ice, even through your chiffon shawl. A brief gasp rippled through you at the foreign sensation, but it wasn’t unwelcome. Swallowing your nervousness, you happened to stay put, gaze drifting to meet cerulean irises.

“I’m not afraid, if that’s what you’re worried about,” In a valiant attempt to show a sliver of boldness, you found yourself wanting to impress Paul. “I think I can handle it.” Your insistence was cute to Paul, whose nose wrinkled instead.

“I like that fire you got, but you’re shakin’ like a leaf,” Paul teased, reveling in the flustered look plastered onto your visage. Before you could avert your eyes, he reached to tilt your chin toward him, as playful as could be. “You’re real pretty.”

Jesus, he was smooth — a crazed charm that was akin to a siren’s song, dragging you into the depths of his ocean. Compliments accompanied by his suaveness and fleeting touches made your nerves blaze with exhilaration.

Having melted the barrier of strangeness between you both, Paul hovered above you, leaning inward to sniff at your tresses. It was an amalgamation of all things sweet — from something floral to a hint of honey and vanilla.

“You’re …” Ensnared within his incendiary gaze, you found yourself unable to find the words, as if they ceased to exist. A beat of silence gripped you as you considered what to say. “You’re unlike anyone I’ve ever met.”

Most girls he sunk his teeth into weren’t so mesmerized — and if they were, they were often beneath his hypnotic spell. Your awe and bewilderment appeared to be genuine.

Paul laughed, the sound vibrating through him, ripping clean through his throat. He thoroughly enjoyed how smitten you were with him, and the innocuous attention was something he chased after. “You think so?”

Flicking the toothpick aside, Paul noticed the coy smile tugging at either corner of your mouth. It was easy to dip into the recesses of your mind, dig into each crevice for answers, but he chose not to. The unpredictability of it all enticed him.

“Yeah, you just … You’re very fearless, and bold. You don’t care what anybody else thinks of you.” If only you were confident enough to take a page out of his book, you might’ve been the same way. “It’s very attractive.” Your confession emerged as a soft-spoken utterance.

Unable to suppress his growing smirk, Paul’s lips neared the shell of your ear. “You hitting on me?” He purred, able to catch a whiff of your pheromones. It was a wave of something feminine, making his blood boil with anticipation.

The boardwalk became incredibly dismal, mere ambiance serving as a backdrop for your conversation with Paul. You cared little for curfew, little for going home. “I am,” With a steady exhale, you straightened your posture. “Is that okay?”

“Fuck, ‘course it’s okay,” Paul mumbled, lips brushing across the shell of your ear, causing gooseflesh to ice your spine. A clammy chill spread along the back of your neck, breath hitching within your throat. “Prettiest girl here.”

Whispered praise raked hot embers along your spine, causing your stomach to roll with waves of excitement. You were terrified to touch him, lips agape as he tilted your chin, forcing you to hold his stare.

“You’re sweet,” You murmured, tone wrought with disbelief as you mustered a smile, dazzled by Paul’s beguiling visage. His closeness was marked by the unusual chill of his flesh, the brush of his mesh-clad chest against yours. “Paul.”

“Should ditch this place, baby,” Paul’s breath fanned across your mouth, his scent a strange conglomerate of marijuana, sun-dried carrion, and stale cologne to mask it all. “Come and check out the cave.”

A sliver of your being sensed danger, as if your hackles bristled at the thought of going somewhere completely secluded with him. It was easy to dismiss your twinge of paranoia as nervousness, and you did just that.

“I’ll go with you.” With a brief exhale, you nodded in agreement, earning the delight of Paul, who seemed incredibly pleased. His bark of a laugh reverberated throughout his chest as he planted a sloppy kiss against your cheek.

“C’mon, I’ll give you a lift,” His outstretched hand invited you toward his scrappy motorcycle, which seemed similar to a dirt-bike instead of a true Harley or Indian. “I’m a safe driver.”

Despite his faux assurances and oozing charm, some sliver of you felt uneasy. It would just be the both of you, which seemed infinitely more comfortable than having his brothers around.

Paul’s grin never diminished, glinting through the encroaching dark as he settled onto the bike, ensuring that you were situated behind him. “I don’t know if I believe you.” You mused, relieving some of the tension.

His laugh made you smile, like the cackle of a coyote — nothing tame about him. Despite his carefree nature, you enjoyed his company, savored the sense of liberation you felt with him. There wasn’t a need to perform, only exist as you were.

“Believe it, baby, we’re goin’ for a ride,” He mused, revving his bike with a noisy howl. Before he could spin off of the boardwalk, you immediately lurched forward, arms hooking around his midsection. “Might wanna hold on tight.”

Seaborne wind whipped against your cheeks, the night chill seeping into your bones. The silver glow of the moon sparkled across the ocean, framing Paul’s tresses in an eerie light. He was frenzied, screaming into the twilight as he drove across the beach.

A shudder of ecstasy raked across your spine, exhilaration fueled by a stab of fear. You clung to him like a drowning woman, digits tangled into the mesh, feeling the icy plane of his abdomen beneath.

A sharp inhale fluttered within your lungs when Paul’s bike hopped over a log, causing you to tense with anticipation. There was something maddening about his driving — recklessness, excitement, the thrill of the night.

The boardwalk faded into the background, mere sparkling lights in the distance, now dissipated. Hudson’s Bluff was a sprawling forest before one made it to the cliffside, barren with dirt and a sparse tree. The rocky incline that led to the mouth of the cave was steep and jagged.

“Home sweet home,” Paul crowed, guiding his bike toward the mess of boards, caution tape, and flotsam. Driftwood had washed up onto shore, with tattered tarps partially strewn across the cave’s entrance. “Didn’t scare you, did I?”

As he dismounted, he noticed the startled look upon your face, akin to a baby deer lost in the thicket. It seemed to fade once your feet landed upon slick rocks, waves kissing the sediment-laden shores. “Only a little.” You confessed.

Paul snickered, offering you a ring-adorned hand as he wound closer to you, planting a sly kiss along the back of your ear. “Sorry, baby. Didn’t mean to,” He murmured, able to detect the spike of warmth in your blood, the hitch of your breath. “You’ll love it down here.”

The cavernous abyss of the cave’s mouth made you shiver, your grip on Paul’s hand becoming uncomfortably snug as he led you down. It was all uneven and perilous, the cave marked by overhanging foliage, moss, and rocky outcroppings.

Within the underbelly of their home, it became somewhat cozy, strewn in countless trappings of the present time, intermingled with that of the past. There were many huge posters of various bands, a portion of the cave carved off for their bikes and workshopping scrap.

“Did something fall underground here?” You asked, noticing the dilapidated fountain in the center of the cave, where slivers of moonlight crept through. Sweeping a digit over the old stone, you collected a century’s worth of dust.

“Used to be an old hotel back in the day, before it collapsed. Some sinkhole or somethin’, David knows the whole story,” Paul replied, tossing a torch into one of the barrels. “I didn’t listen to much of it.” He chortled, gaze fixated upon you.

Worn tapestries hung from the scaling ceilings, crimson velvet tarnished by the passage of time. Much of the decor was an amalgamation from the past and the present, worlds colliding in the depths of the cave.

“It doesn’t bother you, living here?” Perhaps your question might’ve passed as judgmental, but you were simply curious. Paul hopped up onto the ledge of the fountain, able to look down upon you.

“Nah. You get used to it,” Sauntering along the edge, he jerked his head toward another alcove of the cave. “Wanna see my place? Best part of the cave.” He mused, jumping down to land right in front of you.

You began to relax, allowing yourself to lower your guard with Paul. Vulnerability began to waft from you, a semblance of comfort that you couldn’t quite place. “Yeah, I’d love to.” Warmth crept along your spine when he took your hand again.

The cave was much bigger than you thought, with sprawling passageways, alcoves, and concealed grottos that didn’t make themselves known. Paul’s ‘room’ was nothing more than a dip in the rock, shrouded by gaudy velvet curtains.

It smelled of marijuana and a hint of cologne, accompanied by mildew and moisture. Disheveled sheets were strewn across a mattress, metal posters covering most of the rock. Mötley Crüe, Cinderella, Warrant, Scorpions, Judas Priest — Paul had an excellent taste in music.

“You’re really into music, aren’t you?” A brief bubble of laughter emerged from your lips as you gestured toward the posters. His stereo and cassette tapes sat atop a rickety vanity, mirror smashed and missing half of the glass.

“Yeah. I play guitar,” Paul was merely a novice, but he wasn’t the worst player in the world. “Metal not your speed?” He mused, gauging your response. Marko labeled him as a music snob, not that he could help it.

“No, I enjoy it. My parents are pretty strict on it, though,” You mumbled, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. Most of his belongings were scattered — strewn about the room or stacked into disorganized piles. “I like it here.”

Upon first glance, Paul saw you as a meal, a plaything, a means to an end. He intended on feeding from you, given how saccharine your scent happened to be. Blood was blood, but it did have a certain bouquet and viscosity, varying from person to person.

Now, he was beginning to have a change of heart.

Humans were disposable, nothing — piles of warm meat with a bloodstream, something to consume and discard once he had his fill. It was a callous way to think of it, but he wasn’t concerned with the livelihood of a stranger.

Despite the supernatural appeal he had, especially towards you, whatever unconscious effect you possessed was beginning to impact him. Paul lacked the desire to feast, to kill. Instead, it was simply that — the desire to be with you.

For a moment, he considered turning you himself — being like him, an eternal statue bound to his side. Then again, Paul obtained some sick thrill from toying with your humanity, seeing how far he could push his limits.

The fiery burning within his throat became nothing more than background noise, replaced with baser, carnal instincts. Paul’s jaw tensed, and he watched in rapturous silence as you picked up a Def Leppard cassette.

“Wanna listen?” Paul asked, noticing the flicker of excitement within your eyes. Coming from a religious background, rock music was demonized in your household — this was a much-needed break for you.

“If you don’t mind.” Beaming, you couldn’t help but warm as Paul plucked the tape from your hands, hovering beside you as he placed it into the stereo. Love Bites wasn’t exactly a clean song, and Paul snickered at the coincidental lyrics.

With a theatrical groan, he rocked back onto his mattress, listening to the squeak of the springs protest his weight. Paul let himself bask in the moment, tossing his overcoat somewhere toward the alcove’s entrance.

A pang of attraction rippled through you at the sight of him, spread wide with his arms planted behind him, mane of hair making him look like a rockstar. You stood with the shrewdness of a mouse, picking at the frayed stitching of your shawl.

Paul loved your innocence — it made you wildly gorgeous in ways that made his skin crawl. Cerulean hues shamelessly flickered across your form, lips quirked into a lopsided smirk.

“When are you gonna stop bein’ shy and come sit on my lap?” The sharp question was enough to make your knees wobble, heat beginning to pool within the pit of your stomach. Your doe-eyed stare flew to Paul, who seemed entirely unbothered.

Gawking as if he’d asked something offensive, you let your bewilderment show. “What?” It felt like some raunchy dream you’ve had before, but this was reality.

“You heard me,” Paul crooned, extending one hand in your direction. “C’mere.” Fuck, he could smell you — the familiar scent of feminine arousal struck his senses like a gut-punch, causing him to salivate. It was going to be a fight to control himself.

Nervousness dissipated into excitement as you abandoned your lingering insecurities, shuffling forward until you were in between his legs. Your hand found his own, calloused digits smoothing themselves across your palm, reveling in your softness.

Paul brought your palm to his lips, pressing a kiss against the silky skin there. The sharp cadence of your breath made him grin, a chuckle reverberating throughout his body.

“You are so pretty,” You sighed, unable to smother your compliment. There was no one quite as captivating as Paul, whose untamed appearance only appealed to your attraction. “So attractive.”

Amused, Paul appeared flattered by your sweet praise, and it turned him on to the point of no return. Jesus, he wanted you — wanted you for himself. Possessiveness wasn’t something he was familiar with, yet it began to fester inside of him nonetheless.

Coaxing you into his lap, you swallowed the growing lump within your throat, thighs squeezing at either side of his hips. You straddled him, feeling those ring-adorned hands clamor for your waist, caressing into your curves.

“Lookin’ good enough to eat, sweet thing,” Paul crowed, pinching the chiffon shawl between his fingers. “You want to fool around?” Blunt, straightforward — his intentions seemed crystalline.

Another hitch formed within the depths of your throat, gooseflesh prickling along your spine. “Yes,” With an excitable sigh, you attempted to seem subdued, but this was the first time you’d done something like this. “Please.”

Paul’s palms cupped your hips, groping at the pliant flesh through your dress as he moved to kiss you. Carnality bled through his lips, tasting of smoke and the twang of copper. A low groan stirred within his chest as you grasped at his hair.

Dusty-blonde tresses seemed stiff between your fingertips, layered in age-old product that hadn’t been washed out. You found yourself not questioning the strangeness of it, lost within the fervor of his mouth.

Def Leppard saturated the space around you, ambiance beginning to soothe whatever anxiousness you’d felt before. Paul was a fantastic kisser, tongue swiping across your lower lip on occasion, head canted to deepen the entanglement.

Prying your shawl aside, you let the chiffon garment taper off to the floor, a shiver rolling down your spine. Exposed to the cave’s mild air, your mouth eagerly clamored against his own, feeling one of his hands slither toward your backside.

You felt as if you’d been set ablaze, flesh burning with a carnal intensity, something you hadn’t experienced before. An amalgamation of new sensations began to overwhelm you, the thrill of desire settling into your bones.

Paul brazenly groped at your rump, feeling you up through your skirt with greedy caresses. Each kiss was voracious, stealing every wisp of air from your lungs until there was nothing left but a burning, a longing unlike anything you’d endured before.

“Wait,” Through a breathy sigh, Paul’s lips came to a crawl, piercing hues gauging you through blonde lashes. “I’ve never gone much further than this. Is that okay?” Your inquiry was a softspoken one, laced with innocence.

Fantasy ran rampant as Paul considered your confession, tongue darting to lap across his lower lip. Armed with this knowledge, he knew that he really needed to behave, or else he’d break you.

“Fuck yeah,” He huffed, tracing his palm along the pliant flesh of your thigh. “If you don’t wanna do something, you tell me, yeah? I got some ideas,” Paul crooned, pressing a string of kisses along your jaw. “Think you’ll like it.”

A tremor of ardor rippled through your stomach, evoking a sense of exhilaration. Curious digits found their way to his bare shoulders, exploring the broad muscle there as he kissed his way across your throat.

“Like what?” A sharp exhale tore past your parted lips as teeth nicked your jugular, testing the waters for what was to come. Paul’s smirk was palpable, like an icy brand etched into your flesh.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” He purred, toying with your intrigue, enough to make you squirm within his lap. You very nearly froze at the incessant prodding of his erection against your thigh. “Fuck, you smell so good, baby.”

Whatever perfume you happened to spritz on today, you made a mental note to wear it again. Gooseflesh crawled across your spine, thighs involuntarily attempting to clench together as his palm drifted underneath your top.

With a silent insistence, Paul helped you squirm out of your blouse, catching an eyeful of your lace-laden chest. His lips twitched into a wolfish smirk, eyes gleaming with a fervent hunger.

You nearly shrank beneath his piercing gaze, finding that your blouse had made its way to the floor, lost to the moment. The lace of your brassiere was girlish and frilly, though you suspected it wouldn’t stay on for very long.

Paul pressed a string of needy kisses along your shoulder, ring-adorned hand skirting to knead at your breast. A soft moan tore past your mouth, a sound that he had been itching to elicit from you. He teased your nipple over the fabric, watching you squirm within his lap.

“Paul!” A low whine escaped you, one that reeked of neediness, a burning desire that had coalesced into a flame. His mouth found the dip between your neck and shoulder, sucking a hickey into the sensitive skin there.

“Like it when you say my name,” He purred, nose nuzzling along your throat. The sanguine pulse of your blood was tantalizing, like a savory treat being dangled before him, but he resisted. “Gonna take this off of you.” One digit plucked at the strap of your brassiere.

“Mm.” With a noise of approval, you felt Paul move to unhook the garment with swift expertise. The humid breeze that drifted through the cave caused you to bristle, letting him leave you bare. His pupils seemed to expand with excitement.

Fuck, you were gorgeous — Paul was having a difficult time focusing on what part of you he enjoyed the most. “You are so fuckin’ hot,” He growled, causing your breath to hitch within your throat. “What am I gonna do with you, babe?”

A shiver of exhilaration iced your spine, arousal pooling between your thighs, heavier than you expected. Molten heat swirled within your stomach, warmth permeating your features. “Whatever you want.” You uttered, and he happened to grin.

“Don’t threaten me with a good time.” Paul crooned, dexterous hands wandering toward your ass, pushing you forward until his face brushed against your sternum. His tongue traced a pattern around your breasts, savoring the sweet slick of your flesh.

Swallowing the lump within your throat, your fingers raked themselves through his wild tresses, finding their purchase as he kissed at your chest. A satisfied whine left you, followed by a gasp as he began to suck at your nipple.

Tits were his thing — it elicited some frenzied reaction from him, the softness of your chest; supple and unspoiled. Paul’s digits found your unattended breast, kneading into the flesh there, causing you to moan.

The rough pad of his thumb rolled across your nipple, evoking a squeak from you. His cheshire smirk was tangible against your skin, like a hot brand, etched for eternity.

His greedy suckling dwindled to kisses, planting a string of wet pecks to your chest. “You are somethin’ else,” Paul hummed, a glimmer of lust shimmering within his eyes. “Lay down for me, yeah?” He murmured, planting a kiss against your jugular.

The erratic beating of your heart was born of excitement, a thrill unlike any other. His allure had captivated you, and before Paul’s change of heart, it was the predator ensnaring prey. It was the supernatural attraction of being a vampire.

Without question, you adhered to his request, the obedient human, awkwardly shuffling to recline across the mattress. It groaned in protest, yet you paid it little mind as Paul crawled toward you.

It was animalistic, something that sent a shudder of fear through your stomach, a good fear. Cerulean hues glistened with unrestrained desire, lips splitting into a smirk as he made residence between your legs.

Hands grasped mesh as he tugged his top away, musculature exposed to you, godly in some inhuman way. Arousal sat heavy between your thighs, beginning to drive Paul to madness. He found your skirt, head canting to one side.

“You mind if I get rid of this? Just gettin’ in the way of what I want,” The amorous cadence of his voice made you press your legs together in an attempt to relieve the tension. “Gettin’ shy on me, babe?” Paul teased, prompting you to smile.

“You can take it off.” With a shrewd utterance, you watched as Paul sluggishly tugged at your skirt. The frilly garment disappeared, tossed somewhere behind him. Thin, cotton panties were all that kept you from exposure.

Slinking forward, Paul’s body blanketed yours, arms keeping himself propped up as he gazed down at you, lips quirked into a grin. “You’re gorgeous, you know that?” His mouth found your collarbone, leaving behind a string of hot, wet kisses.

A shaky sigh escaped your lips, laced with the tremor of anticipation as you reached for his tresses. Soft fingers raked through his stiff mane, eliciting a low, satisfied hum from him.

He kissed you wherever he pleased, finding plenty of enjoyment in your body. Your flesh was like silk, akin to velvet, an unblemished surface, all for his own pleasure. Paul kissed his way between your breasts, briefly nipping at your sternum.

The heady, dizzying scent of your arousal continued to scorch his nostrils, a burn of sheer ecstasy. Bloodlust had dwindled into lust — the want he felt for you far outweighed the desire to feed. A soft moan left you when he reached your stomach, hands finding your thighs.

“P—Paul, where …” Embarrassment flooded through you, warming your already-feverish flesh with bashfulness. A guffaw left your greedy paramour, who did not stop his trail of reverent kisses. “You don’t have to.” You squeaked.

Cute — Paul’s mouth twisted into a wolfish grin, cerulean hues reflecting the yearning of a man starved. “I want to,” His enthusiasm bewildered you, and the throbbing between your legs seemed incessant, now. “Fuck, I want it so bad, babe.”

A shiver rolled along your spine, digits idly tensing within his hair as he kissed a trail along your pelvic bone, teeth snagging into the waistband of your panties. An audible gasp ripped through your throat, eyes widening into a doe-eyed stare.

Paul’s hues met yours, lips still quirked into a smirk even as he guided your panties down your legs. He had them clenched between his teeth like a vice, sluggishly dragging them down until they were hitched around your knees.

Your stomach did flips, a whine bubbling from your throat as he pressed kisses along your calf. No man had ever bothered to do something as sultry as this — and you became lost to his lascivious charm.

Involuntarily, you pressed your thighs together, visibly smitten as Paul clicked his tongue. “Wanna taste you so bad,” He groaned, chin perched against your knee. “You gonna make me beg or somethin’?” A bark of laughter reverberated through his chest.

“No, I just — It’s embarrassing,” It was silly, so silly to be flustered over your own anatomy. Paul appeared amused, but he seemed more than happy to placate you, trailing his fingers along your thigh. “What if you don’t like it?”

“I’ve eaten worse, sweet thing,” Paul chortled, like the snickering of a hyena as he kissed your knee, head cocked to one side. “Your pussy is ‘bout to be the best thing I’ve had in months, and that’s bein’ serious.” He assured.

A smile tugged at the corner of your mouth, and his crass humor seemed to melt away your apprehension entirely. “I don’t want to starve you.” Your own jest made him grin — a full, ear-splitting leer that brought back his wild gleam.

Slowly, you parted your legs, and Paul whistled triumphantly, gluing himself to you with an inhuman haste. His mouth pressed open, wet kisses to your inner thighs, greed consuming him as he chased after that smell.

Your scent had been tormenting him since the moment he strolled into Video Max, and now, he was inhaling it all with glee. “Fuck, you’re soakin’ wet,” Paul groaned, causing your breath to hitch as you reclined into the mattress. “Pretty.”

Without pause, his tongue dragged across your cunt, akin to the burn of hot embers over your slit, an ecstasy that made you writhe. A growl ripped through his chest, one that made you shudder as he lapped at your core.

His tresses became your anchor, something to tether you to him as you tugged, pulled, and fisted at his mane. Paul seemed to enjoy it, nose nuzzling along your mound as he vigorously explored your cunt.

Taut, sinewy hands circled beneath your thighs, coming to perch atop your hips, caging you in against his mouth. He was primal — sloppy and enthusiastic, with little tact to his ministrations. His tongue traveled anywhere and everywhere.

The taste of your cunt drives Paul into a frenzy, like that of a fine stout, ambrosial — he’s intoxicated, hit with a buzz that clouds his mind. Your thighs coil around his head, involuntarily flexing against his temples.

There is a euphoria that swells within you, a fire that demands to be extinguished. Paul’s tongue possesses a mind of its own, eagerly lapping from your entrance to clit. At the first lap along the pearl of your cunt, you cry out.

Unbeknownst to you, Paul could’ve stayed between your thighs for an eternity, with little desire to catch his breath. Control became difficult to grasp, with the feral urge to ruin you taking root, the fantasy spreading like a creeping mold.

Between dizzying, wanton moans and excitable gasps, clawing for each wisp of air, you tug at his tresses with an iron grasp. His lips plant hot, open-mouthed kisses along your cunt, tongue gathering your slick.

Greed was his cardinal sin, a gluttony for you, for every fiber of your being. Cerulean hues flickered toward you, head thrown back, caught within the throes of ecstasy. It only furthered his lust, furthered the festering obsession.

The incessant throbbing of his cock was becoming mildly distracting, enough for Paul to absentmindedly grind his hips into the mattress. The friction made his flesh burn with excitement, lips moving to purse around your clit.

“Taste so fuckin’ good.” Paul’s sultry husk momentarily broke your concentration, heart fluttering beneath your breast as you glanced down. It was as if he ensnared you through eyes alone, ensuring that you watched as he sucked at that bundle of nerves.

With a noisy, pleading moan, your back began to arch from the mattress, springs hissing in protest as you tugged at the base of his skull. You brought him into your cunt, not that he minded, and you were treated to a barrage of messy licks.

A sheen of arousal coats his chin, senses swarmed with your scent; a thick, feminine aroma. Pupils dilate with thinly-veiled excitement as one hand relocates, slithering from your hip to the warmth between your legs.

Time isn’t wasted with Paul as two digits begin to stroke along your entrance, mouth preoccupied with suckling on your clit. With a muted thrust of your hips, you can feel the huff of laughter from your crazed paramour, who pins your hips down with his other palm.

A demanding fire burns bright within the pit of your stomach, arousal coalescing between your thighs, a nectar that Paul consumes every drop of. Your flesh feels unbearably hot, like a fever you can’t sweat out as you approach your peak.

Throaty groans tear through Paul’s throat as he hungrily eats you out, drunk off of your taste. Two fingers ease themselves inside of you, initially sluggish until it turns into something erratic, feeling you clench around his digits.

“Paul,” It almost stole the wind from your lungs; the graze of teeth around your clit, causing you to shudder. With an incoherent string of moans, you continue to babble his name as if it were a prayer. “P—Paul, m’close!” You croon.

White-hot bliss floods your insides, and it only continues to spur Paul on as he pistons his fingers into your cunt. The sensation makes you writhe, an ecstasy unlike any other. He doesn’t slow down, alternating between broad laps of his tongue and sucking at your pearl.

Enraptured, Paul observed you like that of a patient predator, grinding himself into the mattress again. His fingers work against you, thrusting in once more before curling — and that seems to set you over the edge.

With a wave of overwhelming pleasure, you feel your climax hit you hard, like a rush of blood to the head. Uncoiling your thighs from around Paul’s head, you feel sticky, leaving behind the mess of your ardor for him to clean up.

A thin layer of perspiration clung to your skin, glistening through the low light of the cave. A burning sensation stung your lungs as you let yourself breathe, regaining your composure.

Paul lapped at his lips, emerging from between your legs with a cheshire grin. “You’re hot,” He sighed, peppering a string of kisses all along your thigh. “Need a break?” With a cajoling tone, he slithered closer, resting his head against your stomach.

Blonde tresses stuck out in all directions, wild and disheveled from your constant pulling. You pushed your fingertips across his scalp, and he happened to curl up closer to you. “That was perfect.”

“I’m good at pleasin’.” Paul snickered, pecking another myriad of kisses along your abdomen. He moved off of you, settling beside you on the mattress, stuffing a pillow beneath his head. The front of his jeans did little to conceal his erection.

In a simmering silence, you wordlessly moved to clamor into Paul’s lap, palms embracing the plane of his chest. You traced your fingers through the blonde hair there, noticing the way in which his visage illuminated with excitement.

Silky digits traced the line of his stubbled jaw, past his collarbone and toward the coarse line of his happy trail. “You’re so pretty.” A soft mumble escaped your lips as you touched him wherever you could, feeling his hands knead into your hips.

“Fuck,” Paul grumbled, becoming impatient as he writhed beneath you, erection grinding into your core with fervent intent. “Don’t make me wait, baby.” He sighed, giddy as could be when your fingers found his belt.

A pang of elation rippled through you, ardor seeping into your bones as you sluggishly rocked your hips against him. An agonized grunt rumbled throughout his chest, hands squeezing you tight as you unbuttoned his jeans.

Freeing his cock from the confines of strained, white fabric, Paul bristled, nearly steering you onto him out of sheer desperation. Your fingers coyly wrapped around his member, stroking from base to tip, flush within your palm.

Another hiss of impatience slipped through his teeth, festering with want as you pleasured him. He was flattered that you bothered to return the favor, but Paul was hyperfocused on fucking you until you sobbed.

“Minx,” He mused, catching your mesmerized stare as he flashed a wolfish grin in your direction. You ceased with your toying, sheepishly guiding him toward your aching cunt. “C’mon, just like that.” Paul coaxed, teeth scraping across his lower lip.

It was increasingly difficult to maintain any pious facade with him talking to you like that — resonance little more than a sultry purr, spurring you on. Sluggishly, you lowered yourself onto his cock, the intrusion causing you to moan.

Intermingled sighs of ecstasy drifted throughout the alcove, with Paul gripping your hips like a vice, hard enough to leave bruises. Your nails dug into his abdomen, eliciting a chortle from him as he bucked up into you.

His control was splintering at the seams, feeling your cunt clench around him as he bottomed out inside of you. Your visage contorted into a look of sheer bliss, lips agape and eyes half-lidded as you began to grind against him.

From beneath you, the view was divine — Paul’s hues carefully traced the pliant curves of your breasts, the way your body moved atop him with ease. Your jugular appeared inviting, and for a moment, he was reminded of the burn ripping at his throat.

As you began to move, allowing your pace to become spirited, his thoughts were torn from fractures of feeding to that of pleasure. He was strong enough to move you all on his own, taut digits skirting to your haunches.

“Paul,” You moaned, nails leaving crimson crescents against his chest. His hips happened to clash with yours, cock pounding into your cunt with the lewd clash of flesh. “S—Shit!” A stammered whine escaped you.

Def Leppard filled the void, resonant between the intermingled grunts of Paul and your wanton moans. Deft, needy hands caressed you wherever he could, one palm gripping at your haunch as the other wandered to squeeze your breast.

Pools of dull candlelight bathed you in its glow, ethereal in appearance — he was mesmerized. It wasn’t something that occurred often, being charmed by a human, and yet it happened anyway.

Paul continued to thrust into you, cock nearly kissing your cervix with vigor. Even through his erratic pace, you guided yourself in rhythmic motions along his cock, reduced to a mess of pathetic whimpers and eager cries.

A cacophony of crass noises emanated throughout the walls of his chambers — breathy sighs intermingled with wanton moans, the exchange of flesh for fantasy.

“Fuck, baby,” Paul groaned, the husk of his cadence causing you to shiver in delight. Molten heat churned within the pit of your stomach, arousal pooling between your thighs. “Feels so good.” He huffed.

As if acting upon selfish impulse, you reached for the choker around his neck, hooking two digits into the black fabric as you tugged him up. Pupils dilated with sudden exhilaration, cerulean hues boring into you, as incendiary as an open flame.

Lips clashed together, greedy and hungry — an unfamiliar hunger, one that seemed to sink its talons into you, refusing to let go. You kissed him as if each entanglement would be your last, feeling his teeth scrape across your lower lip.

Paul didn’t seem to mind doing most of the work, feeling your thighs twitch and tremble from exertion. His chest brushed against yours, evoking an animalistic growl from the depths of his throat.

The pace seemed to increase, turning to a wild fervor that filled you with excitement. Your cunt clenched around his cock, bodies sticky with perspiration and fluids, the clash of flesh becoming prominent.

That familiar coil of tenuous heat festered within the pit of your stomach, signaling the encroachment of your release. Without warning, Paul happened to bite down too hard on your lip, and if it weren’t for his restraint, he might’ve taken it further.

“Paul,” Between wanton sighs and needy moans, you grasped at his tresses again, hips grinding against his own. A delicious friction boiled between the both of you, flesh to flesh, driven by desire. “Don’t stop, please.”

One hand skirted to cup his stubbled jaw, able to glimpse a sliver of the untamed side to Paul, the side that captivated you so. He was relentless, stamina borderline inhuman as he continued to guide you atop his lap.

A coppery scent filled his nostrils as a bead of crimson formed upon your lip. Paul bent forward, still fucking you as if it would be his last rut, tongue darting out to lap across your lips.

Saccharine warmth filled his maw for the briefest of moments — your blood, like a fruity bouquet, rich and virile. He hadn’t tasted something so sweet before, and it only made him want more. He kissed you again, with enough passion to make your head spin.

With another lewd clash of his cock slapping away at your cunt, you nearly reeled, moan swallowed by his voracious tongue. It was a messy kiss, fueled by his desire to lap at any drop of blood that oozed from your mouth.

Through a tangle of teeth, tongue, and want, Paul came, bucking up into you as his cock spilled inside of you. An exhale of ecstasy escaped you, mouths parting just enough for you to caress his lower lip with your thumb.

A wicked gleam glistened within his heated stare as he took your thumb into his mouth, pearlescent teeth teasing the fragile skin. A shudder wracked your body, enough to reignite the smoldering desire that now gripped your body.

“Stop that,” You mumbled, albeit playfully as you sluggishly untethered yourself from his lap, thighs scorched by his jeans and the constant friction. It must’ve been late, you realized. “That was …”

“Best you’ve ever had?” Paul teased, a howl of laughter rippling through him. He seemed more than satisfied, something that made you feel better about the whole ordeal. “You’re not gonna run off on me, are you?” He asked.

Curfew was dead and gone — you would face the repercussions come morning. Instead, you happened to try and find your panties, only to notice Paul twirling them around on his hand.

“I’m not going anywhere,” With a huff, you immediately slithered back onto his lap, grabbing them with a flustered smile. Paul had you trapped, caging you in against his chest with a vice-like hold. “Paul.”

“Can’t hear you, sweet thing,” His eyes momentarily fluttered shut, lips curled into a wolfish grin as he squeezed at your rump. You were trying to put your panties back on even still, nose wrinkling with amusement. “Need somethin’ to wear?”

Despite your shrug, Paul moved to find you something adequate. He had a rather extensive collection of ripped band shirts that he accumulated from tourists — none of them possessed a pleasant smell.

He tossed a Judas Priest shirt at you, and while you were in the middle of pulling it on, he was glued to your side again. If you stayed until morning, he would have some explaining to do — or he could drop you at home while you were asleep.

“You’re real pretty,” Paul’s shameless admiration made your flesh warm, a pleasant sensation stirring within your stomach. “You tired? You’re welcome to crash here.” He offered.

“You don’t mind?” Your mother was going to kill you, but it didn’t matter anymore. “I’ll leave first thing in the morning, I don’t want to overstay my welcome.” Despite your reassurance, Paul tossed his head in a show of dismissal.

Admittedly, he could envision you here quite often, vampire or not. There was something about your smell, your blood, your presence — it sucked him right in, even if you were oblivious to it. Paul lounged beside you, watching as you reclined into the pillows.

A beat of silence drifted between the both of you, with Paul ogling you, countenance indiscernible. He seemed a touch surprised when you leaned over to kiss him — a sweet kiss, lacking the carnal intensity of previous entanglements.

“Sleep tight, babe.” Paul mused, watching intently as you fell asleep. Once dawn came, you would find yourself in your own bed, your house — with no knowledge or remembrance of how you got there.

[justnatoka]

I know I literally just posted a one shot yesterday, but I'm working on a horny little Marko drabble👀 I'm trying to make the most of my days off from work and get as much writing done as I can. 😁

Just wanted to let you guys know that there might be a little something posted soon. Hope you all have a wonderful day! ❤️

[justnatoka]

Wild creatures

Paul x Fem! Reader

A/n: This was so therapeutic to write, you have no idea. I adore this man so much! Fun fact: the idea for this fic came to me as I was dancing around in my kitchen, drinking wine, listening to Red Wine Supernova by Chapell Roan for the first time.

Word count: 4.6k

Warning: canon typical violence, blood, one douchebag who can't take no for an answer, mention of weed use, nsfw themes (minors dni!), light smut (nothing too explicit), skinny dipping, lots of fluff, LOTS of sexual tension lol

Prompt: "All that blood looks good on you. It really brings out your eyes."

You and your boyfriend have a wild night out on the boardwalk.

The first thing your brain registered was soft breathing against the back of your neck, then the arm wrapped tight around your waist, holding you close, your back pressed against a solid chest. As your eyes fluttered open, you took in the darkness of the cave, your gaze sweeping over the colorful mess of pillows, blankets and different fabrics draped all over the little nook your boyfriend affectionately called your nest. He took to sleeping here with you after you joined the pack, saying he didn’t want to be apart from you for even one night. Not that you were complaining.

Speaking of Paul, his arm squeezed you in his sleep, a soft snore escaping him. You smiled to yourself as you slowly wiggled your way around to face him. You discovered a slight frown on his handsome features, his hand gripping your waist tighter, and you wondered what he was dreaming about. Inching closer, you laid a gentle kiss right between his eyebrows, and his features smoothed out instantly, his grip loosening but not letting go, never letting go. He brought you closer, snuggling his face into the crook of your neck and breathing in your sweet scent. He draped his leg over yours, tangling them together and clinging to you like a koala. Damn, you loved this man.

You loved his loud and silly personality, the constant flirting, his need to always be near you, always touching you, even if it meant just linking your pinkies together. You loved all the little ways he showed you affection, like bringing you small gifts: a shiny rock or a pretty shell he found on the beach, a plushie he won at a game stall on the boardwalk, a pin for your growing collection covering your jacket. The same jacket the boys got you as a welcome present when you joined the gang, and one you adored with all your heart. You loved how expressive he was, his face lighting up every time he saw you, smiling bright when you were happy, but also crying with you when you weren’t. You enjoyed every moment you spent with him, be it annoying Marko, making out in public while ignoring the loud teasing of his brothers or getting high at the cave and blasting songs of his favorite bands on the boombox, playing on imaginary guitars, headbanging together and giggling when you got dizzy. But it was quiet moments like this one when you really had the time to think about and appreciate the life you had with him. Feeling warm and content, you sank deeper into his embrace.

Your peace was interrupted however, as you heard the others starting to wake up further in the cave. You were reluctant to disrupt Paul’s sleep, but you knew if you didn’t move, one of the boys would soon come looking for you. Marko in particular really enjoyed barging in and throwing pillows at you to wake you up. This earned him a few shots back every time, and he was even chased out by Paul before, not like it had any effect. You really weren’t in the mood for that whole chaos now, so you took matters into your own hands.

You started peppering kisses on the top of his head and softly calling his name. When it didn’t have any effect, you decided to go for his weak spot and started lightly scratching your nails along his neck. He let out a muffled groan and you had to bite your lower lip not to do the same. Your hands worked their way along his back, dipping under his shirt at his waist and gently stroking his skin, making him press his hips against your thigh with a needy whine. Warmth started pooling in your lower region, and if the hardness against your thigh was anything to go by, he must have felt good too. You knew he was awake at this point, felt him smiling against your skin, but pretended in the hopes that you continue with your touching. So you moved your hands lower and squeezed his ass.

“God, babe, don’t stop.”

You chuckled at his sleepy voice and pressed another kiss against his temple.

“I’m not sure the others would appreciate if we made them wait. Marko might appear in the door.”

“I want to see him try.”

“Oh, I’m sure he will.”

With another groan he finally lifted his head, resting his chin against your chest, his hair a tousled mess which you affectionately patted down. You looked into his brilliant blue eyes, and your heart swelled.

“Morning, handsome,” you whispered.

“Morning, beautiful,” he whispered back with a dopey grin on his face. He loved it when you used pet names for him. He leaned in to lay soft kisses against your lips, each one getting longer and hungrier. Just to make you remember his predicament, he grinded his hips into yours again, causing you to moan into his mouth. He used the opportunity to deepen the kiss, his hands exploring your curves.

“Hey, lovebirds! We can hear you making out all the way over here! Get up already, don’t make me go in there!” Marko’s voice broke the moment, and you let out a frustrated groan, now just as fired up as Paul.

“Marko, if you don’t shut the hell up, I’ll beat your ass!” you yelled back, and you heard David and Dwayne laugh, all of them knowing full well that you would try.

“My hero,” Paul chuckled and pressed one long kiss against your lips before finally getting up from the bed. While you put on your clothes, the heated glances he sent you held the promise that you’ll continue what you started later.

You made your way out to the others who were already waiting by the bikes, ready to go. Marko sent you two a cheeky grin, which earned him a not so serious glare from you. David and Dwayne just shared a knowing look. Getting up behind Paul, you wrapped your arms around him, squeezing tight as you took off.

Riding with them was always exhilarating, and you didn’t hold back your screams of excitement, squeezing your arms around him tighter when you heard your boyfriend’s high pitched laughter. You sometimes wondered if you sounded like a pack of wolves with all the howling as you crossed the woods.

Bursting out from between the trees to the beach, your field of vision was filled with the familiar picture of the busy boardwalk with its bright lights and bustling noise. Your skin was practically buzzing with energy. It was a place full of potential for people looking for a fun time, and that’s exactly what you were, even if your definition of ‘fun’ was a bit different in some aspects.

You parked near the entrance, your arrival bringing a lot of attention. You were used to strangers ogling at you, you couldn’t really blame them. Your group was certainly a sight to behold, their loud bikes and good looks were a magnet to the eyes. After getting off from behind Paul, you slowly stretched out your muscles, the movement accentuating your figure, making your shirt ride up to show a bit of skin, then casually threw your hair over your shoulder. The effect was instantaneous, as you felt multiple eyes on you all at once, and when you lazily surveyed the surrounding crowd, you noticed a good few heads suddenly turning the other way.

You felt Paul’s arm sneaking around your shoulder, yours encircling his waist on instinct.

“I thought showing you off was my job,” he smirked at you.

“I can’t help it that I’m this good-looking,” you joked. “Besides, I want to show you off too,” you pecked his cheek, giggling when he leaned in for more.

Someone cleared their throat, and you turned to the boys who were all waiting for you, again. David raised one eyebrow with an amused smile playing on his lips.

“Sorry boys, but this is where we separate from you for tonight,” you stated, their expression turning from light confusion to teasing smiles in a second.

“Why? Tired of us already?”

“You, Marko? Always.”

He played the wounded soul quite convincingly until the corner of his lips started curling upwards.

“Don’t do anything stupid,” the leader spoke up next.

“What, you don’t trust us, David?” you asked cheekily.

“Why would I?” he smirked.

“Okay, fair point.”

He snorted before turning to saunter away into the crowd.

“Have fun,” Dwayne added with a smile and a wink.

“Thanks, Dwayne.” Then he too joined the others.

Now that it was just the two of you, you looked up at Paul.

“What do you wanna do first?”

He reached into the pocket of his jacket and pulled out a joint.

“Let’s start with the appetizer.”

You threw yourselves headfirst into fun; getting onto several rides and screaming your lungs out, then having a heavy makeout session on the Ferris wheel, which resulted in the attendant kicking you out because you were too distracted with each other to notice the ride was over. After eating yourselves full of sweets, and urged on by the sugar high, you proceeded to visit all of the game stalls, trying to beat each other at shooting games and both failing miserably cause you made each other laugh too much, both of you giggling like stupid teenagers. Paul made it his mission to win you a purple teddy bear he saw at one of the stalls, and was heartbroken when he didn’t get it. He pouted all the way to the food vendors, grumbling about how it was rigged for sure.

It was after you both got yourselves some soft drinks when someone tapped you on the shoulder, interrupting the nice time you had going. Turning around, you came face to chest with a guy wearing an obnoxiously open shirt. Now, you didn’t mind it with Dwayne, but this guy’s whole vibe screamed douchebag. Starting with the sunglasses he pushed to the top of his head so he can check you out more openly. Who the heck wears sunglasses at night?

“Hi,” he flashed you a smile that made your skin crawl.

“Uh, hi,” you replied, you tone already less than enthused.

“Can I get you a real drink?” he motioned to your soda.

“No thanks, I’m not interested.”

You moved to turn away, but he grabbed your shoulder this time. Oh hell no. You shot him your nastiest glare, then tore his hand off you, stepping back to put some distance between you two.

“Come on now, don’t be like that,” Sunglasses smirked down at you, trying to keep his composure, but you were having none of it.

“Like I said, I’m not interested,” you answered, emphasizing each word and making a big show of grabbing Paul’s hand.

Sunglasses didn’t take kindly to that, and he turned his growing irritation toward your boyfriend, who he seemingly barely noticed until now.

“You’re seriously into that? You sure have some questionable tastes in men,” he scoffed.

“Dude, chill out, she said no. So why don’t you just fuck off?” Paul decided to finally speak up after just observing the situation. He knew you could take care of yourself, but it seemed like this was slowly getting out of hand, and he just wanted this douche gone.

“Don’t you tell me what to do, freak. I can do whatever the hell I want. And if I want a piece of that,” he jerked his head towards you like you were a piece of meat, “than that’s what I’m gonna get.”

That’s it. Paul could take insults directed at him, but he would sure as hell not take him talking about his girl like that. If this absolute dick wanted to get up all in his face, he wasn’t one to back down. They were ready to throw hands, when both of them froze. Eyes going comically wide, they stared in unison at the big, sticky wet patches forming on the guy’s shirt, the liquid trickling down the side of his head and neck slowly soaking his clothes. Sunglasses turned around, and that’s when Paul spotted you behind his back, your empty glass still in your hand.

You looked up at Sunglasses with big sheepish eyes.

“Oops, I guess my hand slipped.”

Paul burst out laughing. The guy was so dumbfounded he was rendered speechless for a long second, like his brain couldn’t fathom that someone would humiliate him like this. Because people around you were already looking and pointing. But when it did register to him, his face turned to a shade of red you haven’t seen before. He looked like a big angry tomato pumped full of steroids. You finally cracked up, and you cackled as you dodged the arm he swung at you, easily dancing out of his way. You grabbed Paul’s hand and the two of you took off running, the sound of the guy’s loud cursing quickly drowned out by the noise of the crowd.

When you were sure you got far enough, you slowed your pace to an easy stroll. With the laughter barely dying off your lips, you pressed a sloppy kiss on Paul’s cheek.

“My hero,” you giggled.

“Always, babe,” he stated with a happy little smile.

Pushing the incident to the back of your mind, you were determined to have fun, and not let it hinder your mood. So the two of you threw yourselves back into the night.

Somehow you ended up at the stage, surrounded by warm bodies, all bopping and swaying and jumping together to the rhythm. You let yourself completely loose, let the wave of the music and the movement of the crowd around you take you to wherever it wanted, washing away every problem, every little annoyance. It was phenomenal, and you felt your spirit soar high above you with the ocean wind.

A familiar hand wrapped around your own, bringing you back to the ground, and your eyes locked with the most brilliant pair of blue you’ve ever seen, the color and all of its variations already seared into your mind. Right now, they were shining bright, the lights of the stage bringing a playful glint to them that you adored. Your gaze fell to his lips, causing a wide grin to spread across them. The next time you looked up, his eyes were a darker shade, and he was standing a lot closer to you than you realized, the two of you practically pushed together by the people around you, still moving, still dancing.

You don’t know who moved first, but in the next second you were tangled together, hands roaming planes and curves of bodies, fingers coursing through hair, lips hungry against each other. It felt like the beat of the music was running through your veins, reigniting your long dead hearts and willing it to beat again. It was electrifying and intense. That’s just how your love worked. Sometimes it was silly, sometimes it was passionate, but it was always all consuming. You completely gave yourselves to each other, body, soul and all, for as long as you were on this earth. And you wouldn’t have it any other way.

You were reluctant to come back to reality, too high off the intensity of the moment to stop, but knowing if you didn’t stop soon, you would commit public indecency. Paul groaned when you finally drew back from him, his lips puffy and his eyes pleading.

“Not here and not now, pretty boy,” you purred against his mouth. He almost started pouting, so you winked at him and threw in a middle ground. “How about you take me out to dinner first? Then you can devour me all you want.”

He seemed pleased with that solution, almost too eager to go.

You barely left the proximity of the stage, Paul’s arm casually thrown around your shoulder, yours around his waist, leisurely strolling away, when you heard a shout from behind you.

“There they are!”

You turned your heads at the same time, and spotted the guy from before. He also brought two friends. They were still further away, but rapidly closing the distance, pushing people out of their way, trying to get to you quicker. You exchanged looks.

“Uh-oh,” you blurted out.

A mischievous grin stretched across Paul’s face.

“You said something about dinner?”

Catching on to what he was implying, you burst out in giggles and grabbed his hand before you both took off running. The yelling and fast stomping from behind you was enough indication that they were indeed in hot pursuit. You weaved in between vendors, dodging people left and right, almost colliding a few times, but never letting go of each other. Indignant yelps sounded behind you as you bumped into people, and curses were thrown at you when you pushed stuff into your chasers way. All around chaos was left in your wake, and you already heard Max’s lecture in your head that you would surely receive when he caught wind of this. Laughter bubbled up your throats from the adrenaline rush and you cackled as you turned towards the beach, all the way down the stair, you laughed and howled like hyenas as your feet hit the sand. A quick glance over your shoulder confirmed that they were not far behind. A small squeeze on your hand made you look over at Paul. He had the widest grin on his face, hair messy and wind-blown, his whole body practically radiating, and when he turned to you, eyes shining bright, his hand tightly wrapped around your own, your heart swelled with joy. Surely, this is what real freedom felt like.

You didn’t stop until you reached the underside of the pier and disappeared between the wooden beams. It wasn’t long until your pursuers caught up. Not seeing you at first, they ventured deeper into the darkness.

“There’s no point in hiding, you little bitch! We’re going to find you and your bitch of a boyfriend and then you’ll be sorry for humiliating me like that!” Sunglasses yelled, puffing out his chest, trying to sound all intimidating.

“Who said I’m trying to hide?” you appeared before them, simply walking out of the shadows.

Your confidence and casual tone seemed to unnerve them. The two goons were shifting anxiously, glancing around for Paul. They were ready to get this fight over with and get out of here. Sunglasses, however, took a step towards you, oblivious to the shift in the air around him.

“You got some nerve, girl, I’ll give you that,” he scoffed, running his tongue along his lower lip. “But you’re a bit too bossy for my taste. Maybe if I took you for a few rounds you would learn your place.”

Your face hardened, eyes becoming impossibly darker, before a predatory smirk slowly stretched across your face.

“You know why we brought you here?” you asked lowly, gesturing around you in a slow motion.

Sunglasses was visibly confused, but the bobbing of his Adam’s apple let you know he finally seemed to realize that something was wrong. You raised up one finger, pointing at the pier above you, the hustle and bustle of the people above audible even down here.

“Because right here no one will hear your screams.” Your voice sounded like ice, and the terror on their faces as you started to change right in front of them only fueled your hunger.  “And for the record, I’m the only one who can call Paulie my bitch. Isn’t that right, babe?”

Their eyes followed your gaze behind their backs, where Paul seemed to materialize out of thin air, his irises glowing yellow from his monstrous face.

“Damn right, dollface.”

They didn’t even have time to react before you descended upon them. And just as you said, their shrieking was drowned out by the screams coming from the roller coaster above. There was no escape, you were too fast, dragging them back into the shadows, fangs tearing into skin, gulping down their warm blood and relishing its taste. You made quick work on the three men, and watching the life drain from their trashing bodies gave you a sick satisfaction. You licked your lips the same way he did when you were finished with them.

You looked up at Paul, chest heaving, with rivulets of blood still running down your face and neck, smearing around your lips, painting them red. He looked no different, with crimson specks stuck in his hair, already back in his human form, but eyes still containing remnants of yellow.

When his gaze met yours, a flirty little smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth.

“Look at you, pretty girl! All that blood looks good on you. It really brings out your eyes.”

You flashed him your most charming smile in response. You both burst out in chuckles, giggling to yourselves like schoolgirls as if you didn’t just tear three men apart. The next time you locked eyes, something shifted between you, and you felt a tug in your stomach. You needed to close the distance between you, and if the hasty steps he took towards you was anything to go by, he felt it too. Stepping over bodies, you met in the middle, lips attaching together in an instant, and Paul moaned into your mouth as he tasted the blood on your tongue.

“You said something about devouring you after taking you out to dinner,” he purred, voice silky soft.

“I did. But not here. I don’t want an audience,” you eyed the remnants of your dinner lying at your feet.

“Fair enough, I don’t want to share that sight either,” he wiggled his eyebrows at you, and you snorted.

“Come on, pretty boy, I have an idea.”

He followed you like an eager puppy as you departed from the darkness of the space under the pier and made your way to a secluded section of the beach, a nice little spot you’ve found on one of your midnight wanderings. You knew it would come in handy eventually.

You got a hold of the lapel of his jacket and pulled him back in, already missing his closeness and his lips on yours. He was all too happy to satiate your craving, his hands sneaking into the back pockets of your pants. You could never grow tired of this, your bodies pressed together, taking the time with exploring and getting a good taste of each other, mouths moving together lazily, sloppily, familiarly, knowing exactly what makes the other tingle in pleasure. But this was only the warmup.

Pulling away from him, you looked back up at him through your lashes, your lips curling into a cheeky smile.

“As much as I love seeing you drenched in blood, we still need to go meet up with the boys. And I don’t think David would be happy with us showing up like this on the boardwalk, not after the mess we’ve already created.”

Paul glanced from you to the ocean behind you, the wheels turning in his head, trying to figure out what you were planning.

“Oh yeah? And what do you suggest, babe?”

Your grin grew wider.

“Something you’ll like.”

Then in one fluid motion you pulled off your top and tossed aside. When you met his eyes again, the look he gave you was so full of love and adoration, it genuinely made your heart ache. Because how the hell did you get so lucky to find a guy who looks at you like that, even after seeing you naked a thousand times, who makes you feel this desired and confident in your skin?

A huge grin grew on his lips and he whooped in excitement.

“Hell yeah, now we’re talking!” he cheered as he was already in the process of dropping all his clothes, with yours following right after.

He practically carried you into the ocean, your shrieking laughter cut off as he tossed you into the water. You were on your feet the next second, splashing him and dragging him down with you when you caught a hold of him. It wasn’t long before your playfighting turned into something steamier, and you finally gave into the desire you’ve both been holding back ever since you woke up at the cave in each other’s arms.

With the stars of the summer night sky shining above you, watching over you, the two of you got lost in each other while the balmy breeze caressed your bare skins, your sounds getting lost under the crushing of the waves and the rumble of the boardwalk in the distance. You made love in the water, on the sand, you devoured each other, lips exploring every inch of skin, fingers sinking into soft flesh. He was gentle, then not so much, taking in every sound you made, worshipping your body. Then you took charge, getting on top of him and leaving him a beautiful moaning mess under you. Your passion lasted hours, time blurring together in the overwhelming pleasure.

By the time you made your way back to the bikes, the boys were already there, and morning was fast approaching. Dwayne and David were deep in conversation, the latter periodically taking drags of his cigarette. Marko was the first to notice you, his lips stretching into a cheeky grin when he took in your faces. Ignoring his suggestive stares, you greeted them with a smile.

“You made quite the spectacle tonight,” David remarked. Damn, cutting right to the case.

“You knew you couldn’t trust us with behaving,” you quipped back.

“I did,” he smiled at you, clearly amused. “Max won’t be happy though.”

You shrugged. “Oh well.”

There was a long moment of silence before he spoke up again.

“Did he deserve it?” There was no question about what he meant by that, all of you knowing full well it wasn’t about the drink-throwing or even the chase through the boardwalk. He didn’t have to ask what you did to the guy.

“Hell yes!” you and Paul answered unanimously, and the others chuckled, a comfortable mood settling over your group.

As you all got on your bikes, ready to go home, Marko spotted something that made him guffaw.

“Damn, girl, did you take a bite out of him too?” he motioned towards Paul’s neck. There were undeniable teeth marks and hickeys already forming there.

“I couldn’t help it, he’s too sweet,” you teased, and Paul blew a kiss over his shoulder to you.

Marko made a gagging sound which earned him a swat over the back of the head by Dwayne.

David revved his bike, a clear indication that he was ready to go, reminding you that there was not much time left before daylight took over. The others followed suit, and you took off back to the cave, back to home.

Rewinding the events of the night after you were already snuggled up to Paul in your nest, your mind wandered back to the thoughts you were having just hours ago, when you were lying there in a very similar position. You really were content with your life with the boys. Yes, it was chaotic at times, but that was in your nature. You were wild creatures after all. Living with them granted you a taste of true freedom in a way you haven’t experienced before. You wouldn’t have it any other way.

You pressed a light kiss against Paul’s chest, and he unconsciously tightened his hold on you, his nose buried in your hair, mind already in dreamland. Surrounded by the warmth of your nest and the scent of your lover, you drifted off to sleep just as the sun broke the horizon outside.

Tags: @stinkydove @pandemoniavenus @000-colby @lunarwhitewolf7 @notalwaysa @binightowl

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[justnatoka]

GalaxyCon announced that Kiefer Sutherland would be at the con a few days ago so I absolutely HAD to draw this Lost Boys print to get him to sign. will also have a few copies for sale!

[justnatoka]

Hi guys! So you remember the Paul one shot I've been raving about? Yeah, me neither, it feels so long since I've managed to write, much less post something. Life has been busy lately, and I didn't really have the time/energy to write. BUT. I've finally managed to sit down and mostly finish it! And it's over 4k! I'm really excited for you guys to finally be able to read it! I'm hoping to finish it sometime this week. 🤞🏻

Stay tuned! 😊

[justnatoka]

He's so precious!

I would just like everyone to see this absolutely incredible drawing of Micheal I forgot I had in my sketchbook

[justnatoka]

Jhdjyhdnshwkjdbekjs my brain is fried thank you! Absolutely love them!

the disgusting, sloppy, horny bastards this Fandom absolutely did not need

[justnatoka]

Look at these two cuties! They look really cool together though! Still obsessed with your artstyle!

the definition of they can make each other worse

drawing my oc kissing Paul and nobody can stop me

[justnatoka]

RIP lost boys y’all would’ve loved and stole this whole ass promo coffin to put it in your dirty man cave ❤️ + the popcorn bucket

[justnatoka]

I actually have so many Lost Boys headcanons to share—some more unhinged than others.

One of them is that when the boys arrive at a party, Paul is on a table in less than three songs, dancing, and removing articles of clothing. Marko steals cash from other party-goers to tuck into Paul’s belt.