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A rare behind the scenes photo via makeup artist Ve Neil from the set of The Lost Boys (1987)

A rare behind the scenes photo via makeup artist Ve Neil from the set of The Lost Boys(1987)


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Oof the thirst is real my lovelies, and it ain’t for blood! I love doing romance and smut writing, and clearly I must have some talent in it cuz you guys are lovin’ it! Thank you to my co-author @imlostinsantacarla! Hope you guys enjoy this one


Lost Boys Catch Their Fem!S/O in the Act [¼]

CONTENT WARNING: Sexual Themes, Smut, Offensive Language

Paul

Paul and yourself were sprawled lazily upon your couch with a horror flick busily playing on your television in the background. The ominous cries of a girl being murdered filtered into the backdrop of the equation whilst the pair of your focuses was fervently purchased on the other. Your lips were molded together in a feverish battle for dominance, one that Paul was surely gaining the upper hand on. His tongue massaged yours, teeth nipping the appendage between his sharp teeth until he provoked a satisfied hum of appreciation from you. However, his hands remained tangled in your hair, cradling your head precisely where he currently wanted it the most.

Nevertheless, there was an edge of frustration building between you both, an intense stubbornness pulsating in the air, each of you far too prideful to give into the sexual tension that had ran astray the very moment that Paul had carried himself through your apartment door and seen you clad in an oversized band tee, leather booty shorts and a pair of knee high socks. The sight alone had been enough for him to almost bust a nut, yet he had to reign himself in; he was all too aware of your weak strategies that you always displayed when you wanted his attention. He had been a victim of them countless times before. Oh, it was deliberate! He was certain of it. You had precisely planned this out and he sure as hell was not going to allow himself to succumb to your sexually deviant ways. Paul was hell bent on getting back at you for the stiffy you had given him: And was not going to back down either. No, he was much too stubborn for that; and unfortunately, so were you.

Deliberately, you parted your mouth from his in a taunting stance, his face instinctively following, only for a chortle to push past your luscious lips and into his ears. Instead of diving back in like you commonly did, you turned your back rather childishly on him, pressing it into his front with the innocent appearance of gaining a comfortable spot. You had left your neck exposed though and his cool breath fanned over the expenditure of it, creating goosebumps to rise across your skin like the dead were in the movie on your TV. A satisfied simper tugged at the corner of your lips as his very own wandered over the soft skin of your pulse point, his tongue swirling around the area out of habit before he bit down and sucked the spot desperately, leaving a deep purple bruise in his wake. A tender moan floated from your mouth, fingers roving backwards into his wild blonde mane. Dammit! You couldn’t let him get the upper hand. So, you resorted for the cheapest tactic in your arsenal and ground your backside prominently into the bulge that had developed in his stained white jeans. This elicited a frustrated and pleased grunt from Paul, his pointy teeth latching onto the skin of your neck harder, almost breaking the skin. You yelped softly, brows furrowed in tender anguish. “Ow, you asshole!” You swatted the side of his head indignantly.

“Ow!” Paul grumbled, teeth nicking the sensitive spot once again, his own hand quick to capture your’s before you repeated the same sore action. “Asshole?” Paul scoffed into your ear threateningly, his arms wrapping instinctively around your middle and bringing you closer to him. “You’re practically dry humping me, Captain Horny! I can smell how wet you are.”

“Am not!” You exclaimed in protest to both of his obvious statements, your face swarming with substantial heat at being found out so soon.

“Oh yeah? Then what the hell were you doing then, hm?” You could hear the smug bastard’s grin in his ‘harmless’ inquiry, feeling it spread toothily across the bruises he had created on your flesh.

“Getting comfortable, dumbass.” You replied nonchalantly, eyes hyper fixated on the television screen before you, although it was only because you couldn’t turn your head to face Paul’s, you’d definitely crumble underneath his intimidating gaze of triumph.

“Yeah, okay, Bugs Bunny.” Paul quipped in conclusion with mock amusement, fingers smoothing against the fabric on your belly whilst his icy eyes followed yours and fixed themselves comfortably on the TV ahead.

For the remainder of the movie, Paul’s calloused nimble fingertips skimmed mockingly at the hem of your large top, the appendages seldomly touched your supple skin. The action created a crackling hot fire to ache inside the nether regions of your abdomen, your thighs instinctively brushing together to create much needed friction, which caused your backside to once again grind tenderly into Paul’s groin. A smug smile spread across your boyfriend’s countenance prior to him peppering breathy kisses into the side of your neck, tender nibbles cascading down the expenditure of it. “What do you think you’re doing, doll face?” He grunted into your ear desperately, the wet heat between your legs emitting a sweet scent that made his head spin. He was well aware of how seduced you were, yet his egotism only proved to spur on your motions in a whirlwind of stubbornness.

A flare of indignance erupted at the seams inside of your chest, blasting hot ash through your veins. In one swift motion, you had collected yourself into a seating position, back still directed towards Paul and his wild shit eating grin. “I’m gonna go take a shower.” You stated plainly, already on your feet as you stomped towards your bathroom in childish defeat. You could hear Paul snicker boisterously from the couch, you could practically envision his head tipped back all the way, that complacent expression plastered upon his dumb face.

“Awe, babe, Don’t be such a sore loser!” Paul called after you halfheartedly, victory dancing sensually in his eyes. Yet you continued onwards, entering your bathroom in a vigoring flurry of intense irritation. You slammed the door sharply behind you, the noise echoing throughout your apartment all while you pressed your back to the sturdy piece of wood before you let out a frustrated sigh of disappointment. Things really weren’t working out the way you had hoped them to.

With a tentative and unrushed pace, you peeled off your clothes, article by article. Your fingers wandered with purpose over the handle of the showers door and you slid it open effortlessly in one gliding motion. You fondled with the water fob, tinkering with it until a warm stream of water and steam cascaded from the spout. Your figure stepped carefully into the steaming shower, the placid jet of water greeting you in it’s scolding fingers as it wound through your hair and down your beautiful body. A content rush of air flowed from your mouth as the heat from the water distracted your mind temporarily from the pooling ache that throbbed inside of your core. You tipped your head back, eyes shutting peacefully as you blindly made a grab for the shampoo bottle, and as if by magic, your fingers wrapped around the thin bottle, squeezing a dollop mechanically into your free palm. You aggressively worked the product into your hair so that it lathered voluptuously, giving you a proper distraction. Though to no avail, as you washed the suds from your locks, your mind’s eye only held images of Paul. You nipped your lower lip in between your teeth harshly whilst you slapped on and worked the conditioner through the end strands of your hair. The actions were something you did so naturally, they proved to provide little aberration to your pitiful predicament. Yet you persevered, taking your sweet time whilst you washed the glossy elixir from your hair. If Paul wouldn’t give you what he wanted, you would punish him for being such a hard ass. You’d make him crumble somehow…

That cocky bastard still sat eagerly on your couch, understanding as he saw it, that he’d won the world. Yet he was nowhere near as sneaky as he perceived himself to be. The agitation of failure was muddled when your skin recalled the tender, taunting caresses of his calloused fingers, the sharp and pleasurable sensations caused by his pointed teeth. Even beneath the hot water, you felt chills teasing your flesh, creating unwanted goosebumps. Your nipples stiffened whilst your mind wandered to images of his mouth clasping over them, provoking a soft sigh of pleasure to hum past your lips whilst your thighs rubbed together more aggressively, attempting to create some friction to relieve the dull yet painful ache that palpated inside of you. The feeling haunted you whilst your fingers slid down your front, legs spreading slightly to accommodate your hand as you swirled your appendages harshly on your clit, a slick wetness having pooled down your thighs by now. A frustrated whimper pushed quietly from your mouth as you quickened your desperate pace. Yet nothing appeared to satisfy or curb the intense ache swelling in your lower abdomen. There was a lingering thought that if you waltzed out there right then, bare and wet as you were, Paul would be incapable of resisting you, sheathing himself deeply inside of you…

No! You weren’t going to just hand over the victory for him so hastily. Where had your unwavering stubbornness retreated to? That was right, if you couldn’t beat the smug bastard, then you had to join him in his damned little game. A devilish grin slithered itself onto your countenance as you pulled yourself from the stream of warm water. You turned to face the clear liquid bounding down you, the trickling streams of water gliding to your core, creating a delicious sensation you could not resist. Without much thought, your hand had placed itself around the handle of the detachable shower head and loudly pulled the head from it’s hook. Paul was determined to make you an utter mess. Fine, but you would give him a little show behind glass shower doors. Like a doll behind a case where he couldn’t touch. With ease you flicked the little gold painted lock to your sliding glass doors, looking at the misted doors with your own brand of smugness.

You slowly pressed your back against the cool tiles of your shower, ensuring that your front was on full display towards the door of the bathroom. You eagerly spread your legs, crouching slightly before you allowed the shower head to wander down your body sensually. Soon the powerful jet met your clit, pounding a large amount of water onto it. A desperate hitch of breath burst from your mouth, followed by a long wanton moan. The muscles in your legs shuddered, your head tipping back at the sensation of the water pulsating against your core. A string of hot curses flooded from your mouth, along with sweet delectable noises that only seemed to gain in volume whilst your back eagerly curled from the wall. Your knees began to shake, buckling nearly from the satisfying pleasure that built up within you. “F-fuck!” The whine that left your agape mouth echoed, a shrill pleading that was delicately carried through the shut door into the hallway, and brushed over Paul’s sensitive hearing still wedged tightly in your couch. The sound perked his entire body up, turning his head to which he glanced towards your room with a perplexed expression.

“Kitten?” He called almost inquisitively, leaning over the back of the sofa, his head cocked to the side. Once more he was met with precious moans that sent chills down his cold back, a low heat rumbling in his chest. “You little devil, doll.” Paul snickered, prompting himself to his feet and towards your bedroom. As he entered the room, your prevalent whimpers, begging for release were practically ringing in his ears at this point. Braggadocio lifted up his head and shoulders confidently as his hand slid over the doorknob to your bathroom and he turned the thing slowly before pushing the door open in one smooth swing, revealing a sight that almost made him come inside of his pants then and there. A heavy mist billowed out, steam weighing heavily with significant change in the air when he stepped in. The mirror was completely coated in thick, slippery perspiration, but those water splattered glass doors displayed his gorgeous prize. There you were tightly pressed against the tiled walls with that silver shower head shoved deep between your legs firing a brutal stream against your clit, sweet legs erratically quivering to match your trembling whimper. Water flowed perfectly down smooth curves, a shrill cry prying itself from your mouth whilst your half lidded orbs bore into his dauntingly, boasting a seductive glow to them. Paul stood there for a moment, hanging back whilst he kicked his feet forward nonchalantly. A low whistle curled from his perfect lips. “Look at you, kitten. You couldn’t wait for me could you?” His tone was dangerously low, pupils dilated fully as he stared at your mouth watering body like he wanted to take a bite out of it. The only response he was met with was another lewd sob, your eyes fluttering momentarily to the rear of your skull.

It was damn near impossible to subdue the wicked smirk that you boasted on full display in response to his conceited attitude, which anticipated his anxious approach with a devilish delight. He had been so thoroughly convinced that he had won, whilst his hands wrapped tightly around the handles of your shower door- and met with a solid clunk. The bewildered blonde blinked for a moment, his smirk wavering whilst he pulled again. Stuck in its place was the glass door. Your satisfied laugh chimed merrily over the loud water, pointing to shower head at the door, giving the glass in front where his face was a hasty spray before you situated the shower head once more at your core. “Who’s won now, you smarmy fucker,” you taunted, sticking your tongue out at him. 

“Di-Did you seriously lock me out, babe?” he questioned irately, depressing his forehead to the glass to look at the handles. Locked?!?! How could they be locked? You really were a fucking bitch! “Unfair! That’s totally cheating!”

“Street rules baby, that means there are no rules. So, you get to watch,” you gleefully began, grazing your fingers over your plump breast, “while I… play… without you.” You cooed at him, batting your eyelashes innocently, though every pause granted a treasure-like moan. One hand held the showerhead in place now, pelting violently into your clit, which pushed another crowing moan while you squeezed your breast with the other hand, making good use of your thumb and pointed finger to twist your tender pink nipple teasingly at him.

Paul pathetically fumed beyond the glass, desperately pressing against the glass. He wouldn’t dare break the expensive panels, yet the temptation to do just so grew increasingly whilst he watched you writhe delectably before him. Witnessing the gushes of water running down your legs in torrential plumes, your legs made his gut ache painfully. “Enjoy that bratty little mouth of yours being open kitten,” he hissed with a vicious grin, leaning confidently against the door, “cuz when I get in there I’m gonna fuck your mouth until you choke on it.” He finished with definite finality, his eyes twinkling with utter determination.

Somehow his threats fell on deaf ears and excited you further, laughter pouring from you between luscious moans as he had issued a challenge you weren’t afraid to take head on.  “An-And… if I cum before you get in here?"  There was that mock innocence lacing your inquiry. You knew precisely what would happen to you, and Paul was on the verge of handing it over to you on a silver platter. You now boasted your own shit eating grin on your countenance.

"You better fuckin not!” He growled viciously through tightly gritted teeth.

Oh, that familiar snarl in his voice made you giggle, loving to challenge him. Just how far could he be pushed before he snapped? Let’s see. Beneath the unyielding barrage of water, you glided your other hand to the sopping lips of your already swollen pussy, watching his nails drag on the glass. "I bet you wish you could just reach out and touch me, huh?” You breathed in a hush tone, fingers working mercilessly on your clit, working you closer and closer to your much needed release. In one swift motion, you slipped them inward, plunged deep inside were two, then three fingers, squirming against the bud inside of you. The sensation almost caused your eyes to roll back to your skull as you worked furiously on yourself, bringing yourself closer and closer to the edge. “Oh God!” You gasped, knees barely able to keep you up.

Now came the icing on the cake. You had begun to cry out his name, watching Paul almost double over, hunching his body forward. There was an inferno that had been lit inside of him, seeping rapidly into every corner of his being until he was melting at the sight of your delicious display. His own panting breaths were dragging out low, desperate grunts, seducing him to moan huskily. He felt the zipper of his pants burst, his throbbing erection aching tightly in a constrictive cage.

Your orgasm tore through your body, head tipped back whilst you screwed your eyelids shut tightly. Your limbs shook ferociously, your body almost collapsing onto the wet floor of your shower. “P-Paul!”

Paul’s name gonged mercilessly in his ears, echoing, before he grasped the handle harshly, tugging with deliberate strength and tearing the lock clean off with a single pull. On shaky limbs you snaked the showerhead back onto it’s hook, a well of pride bubbling in you triumphantly. Look who won after all? Water pelted onto your quivering body as you backed up into it. That predatory glare in his eyes caused you to snicker with glee, you were firmly pressed against the far wall, whilst he slid the door open slowly, licking his lips habitually. Even as he stepped foot into the shower, he disregarded the water that clung to his hair and clothes, in which clutched to his body. His entire figure caged you in between his arms and legs.

"You just had to fuckin’ push it, kitten,” he snarled, grasping your throat just beneath your chin in a firm, swift hold. 

“How can I resist?” you teased, dragging your hands against Paul’s shirt that had stuck to his soaked skin. “I love seeing you so pent up.” You breathed your last statement abruptly, for him to hoist your legs around his waist with his free hand. 

“Well, guess you got to see that,” he taunted with a boastful jeer of his own, trailing his fangs up the edge of your neck. “Now I get to play with you all I want,” he whispered deeply into your ear, teeth bared as an animalistic growl rumbled from his chest. In a haze, his mouth found yours, a brutal battle of teeth and tongues danced desperately, the previous choreography for dominance erased. Paul was in charge and you were more than happy to oblige. Yet somewhere along the way he’d fished his throbbing cock from his soaked white jeans and he sheathed it into you with a particular hard slam of his hips. Your cunt ached from your post orgasm, a heat pooling there once more. You tore his jacket from his body, hooking your arms over his shoulders and around his neck. His tongue fought to dominate your mouth, tearing off his mesh shirt and pressing his bare chest against your tits. The intrusion left you winded as he swallowed your cries happily, his hips already pounding into you at an unruly pace. His grunts were muffled between kisses, grasping your butt with his hips pressing you into the wall. Wild trails of bites and kisses covered your neck, the concoction of pain and pleasure making you scream wildly, your limbs already quaking.

Paul drank you in, savoring those perfect moans whilst he appreciated the feeling of your nails clawing deeply down his back. “Fuckin’ scream,” he commanded, licking under your ear. “Scream my name, I wanna fuckin’ hear you baby.”

And as if by magic, you cried out wantonly, his name praising your pretty little lips as he fucked you into starstruck oblivion. Your fingers wound harshly into his blonde wet mane, tugging on the strands right at the scalp as you whimpered desperately, incapable of doing much else. Stars lined the corners of your vision as he railed into you at an unforgiving pace. He could see your eyes slipping upwards into your head, your mouth agape in a cry that had rang silent and he could feel your tight cunt pulsate and squeeze around his cock. Taking advantage of your gasping mouth he dove his tongue eagerly, almost chuckling when your vulgar tongue clung to his own wildly. A powerful spurt of liquids seeping down both of your thighs as he continued to fuck you through your orgasm. “That’s it, take my fucking cock, you little slut!” He grinned triumphantly at you before burying his face in the crook of your neck, hips faltering as he moaned profusely, his fingers digging profoundly into your hips until they were sure to leave bruises. With a euphoric groan, Paul’s hips faltered substantially before they stilled momentarily and he spilled over the edge and into you, his cool seed filling you up the brim. By now the hot water had begun to falter into lukewarm, trickling into cold territories leaving you trembling tightly against Paul’s equally chilled skin. Your breath came out in erratic pants against his shoulder whilst you rested your face against his neck. You grinned tiredly to yourself, victory had instilled itself into your lap at last! You had officially won.

“Fuck-” Paul panted, one hand blindly fumbling to the right to switch off the freezing water. He still had you plastered to the wall as he slowly pulled his soft cock out of you. A dopey grin laced his mouth as he watched his seed pool out from you, almost creating another bout of lust to radiate through him. Yet as he looked up at your half-lidded eyes, he saw just how fucked out you really were. He sniggered to himself, not bothering with a towel as he carried your limp form out of the bathroom and towards your bed. “Well, aren’t you spent.” He wise-cracked, staring down at your quaking form, his fingers smoothing down your thighs before he flopped into the free space beside you. His wet arms wound themselves around your waist and brought you close to his chest.

“Pff, says the guy who broke my shower door just to get in my pussy,” you taunted with a hint of tiredness in your response, flopping your arm over to slap him on the chest. Your voice crackled huskily into a snigger. Paul chuckled responsively, rolling onto his side and stretching out like a lazy, kingly lion sprawled out beside you comfortably.

“Tease all you want kitten,” he grinned fondly against your neck, nibbling at the deep purple blooms on the expenditure of it, whilst his fingers stroked your raw waist. “I still got what I wanted!”

“Just you wait,” you purred, kissing his grinning lips. “Next time I’m totally gonna beat you again.”

Paul snorted. “Pff yeah right,” he scoffed out a laugh, pulling you on top of him, your naked bodies intertwined perfectly. “Admit it, I totally won that babes.”

“Well then, I guess we’re gonna have to agree to disagree because I won!” You challenged, smiling up at him. 

“Oh yeah,” he asked, flipping you on your back. “Well let’s say we have a rematch, huh? Final round, winner takes all!”

You pondered his offer, your pulsing lips still dripping out juices, back still raw from being rammed against the wall. You were exhausted, yet that taunting grin of his had lit up a fire inside you once again. A quick smirk spread across your mouth, pulling him down for a sloppy kiss until he had lowered his body on top of you. Oh yeah, this time you’d totally win.

“Challenge accepted.” you hummed against his mouth invitingly. That was more than enough motivation for Paul to pounce on you. One more round wouldn’t bug the shit out of your neighbors, now would it?

!!!DO NOT REPOST!!!

Mulled over the idea in my head and decided to post the mood board I made for one of my TLB OCs Bonnie: wild teen runaway living off the streets of Santa Carla, rocking out in the night scene and currently working at the boardwalk record store. I may post the other three I’ve made if y'all like this one

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