#dwayne x reader

[i-heart-slashers]

For Our Girl

𝖕𝖆𝖎𝖗𝖎𝖓𝖌: Poly!Lost Boys x Female!Reader

𝖘𝖚𝖒𝖒𝖆𝖗𝖞: You never meant to get tangled up with the Lost Boys, but a wrong turn in the woods led you to them—four vampires with glowing eyes and dangerous smiles. Now, weeks later, you’re theirs. Surrounded by their cold skin and sharp promises, you’re not just safe—you’re wanted, desired, and maybe too far gone to care what they are.

𝖜𝖔𝖗𝖉 𝖈𝖔𝖚𝖓𝖙: 1.7k

𝖜𝖆𝖗𝖓𝖎𝖓𝖌𝖘: suggestive themes. sexual tension. possessiveness.

The boardwalk hums with life, the carousel’s tinny music clashing with the roar of motorbikes and the screams from the roller coaster. You weave through the crowd, the salty ocean breeze tugging at your hair, your waitress apron still tied loosely around your waist from a double shift at the diner. Your feet ache, your head’s foggy, and all you want is to collapse into bed.

But the weight of their eyes on you, always watching, always there, makes your skin prickle with something that’s not quite fear anymore.

It started that night in the woods. A stupid shortcut after a late shift, your flashlight flickering, and then those glowing eyes. Four of them stepped out of the shadows like they owned the night. Paul, with his wild grin and a joint dangling from his lips. Marko, all sharp edges and sharper laughter. Dwayne, silent, his dark eyes pinning you in place. And David, cold and commanding, like he was sizing you up for dinner.

You should’ve screamed. Run. Done something. Instead, you snapped at David to get out of your way, or you’d make him. The words had tumbled out before you could stop them, fueled by exhaustion and defiance.

Paul had howled with laughter, Marko’s eyes had glinted with something dangerous, and even Dwayne’s stoic mask cracked into a faint smirk. David, though—he’d just stared, his lips curling into a slow, predatory smile.

“Feisty,” he’d said, voice like gravel and smoke. “I like that.”

You thought that was the end of it. A weird encounter with some punks who hung out in the wrong part of town. But then they started showing up everywhere.

Paul slipping a mixtape labeled “For Our Girl” onto your windowsill, filled with Mötley Crüe and The Cure. Marko ambushing you at the pier, dragging you to a secluded stretch of beach to watch the stars his arm brushing yours. Dwayne wordlessly showing up at your rundown apartment to fix the lock after you mentioned it was busted, his hands steady and sure, his gaze lingering too long on your throat.

And David. David, who one night draped his leather coat over your shoulders when the wind off the ocean turned sharp, his gloved fingers grazing your jaw as he tilted your face up to meet his icy blue eyes. “Anyone messes with you,” he said, voice low and deadly, “they answer to us.”

Now, weeks later, you’re unsure what you are to them. Not a victim—they’ve made that clear. Not just a friend, either. There’s a heat in the way they watch you, a hunger that’s equal parts thrilling and terrifying. You’re theirs, they say, and the word carries a weight you’re only starting to understand.

Tonight, you feel it more than ever. You’re halfway across the boardwalk when Paul’s voice cuts through the noise, lazy and teasing. “Yo, babe, where you runnin’ off to?”

You turn, and there they are, lounging against the railing like they own the place. Paul’s sprawled out, one leg kicked up, his blond hair a mess from the wind. Marko’s next to him, twirling a switchblade between his fingers, his patchwork jacket catching the neon glow. Dwayne leans back, arms crossed, his dark hair falling into his eyes as he watches you with that quiet intensity that makes your pulse race. And David—David stands at the center, his cigarette glowing red in the dark, his smirk promising trouble.

“Home,” you say, trying to keep your voice steady. “Some of us have jobs, you know.”

Paul laughs, loud and bright, hopping off the railing to sling an arm around your shoulders. “Jobs are overrated. Come hang with us. We’ve got plans.”

“Plans?” You raise an eyebrow, glancing at the others. Marko’s grin is all teeth, and Dwayne’s expression doesn’t shift, but you catch the faintest tilt of his head like he’s daring you to say yes. David just exhales a plume of smoke, watching you through half-lidded eyes.

“Something… fun,” David says, and the word drips with suggestion, his voice curling around you like a promise.

Your stomach flips. You know what they are. You’ve seen how their eyes glow in the dark, and their teeth glint a little too sharp. You’ve noticed the bloodstains on Marko’s jacket that he laughs off and the way Dwayne’s hands are always cold when they brush your skin. Vampires. The word sits heavy in your mind, but instead of running, you’re still here, caught in their orbit.

“Fun,” you repeat, crossing your arms. “Last time you said that, Marko tried to teach me to surf at three a.m. I nearly drowned.”

Marko snickers, flipping the switchblade closed. “You loved it, admit it. Looked hot in that wetsuit, too.”

“Keep dreaming,” you shoot back, but a smile tugs at your lips, and Marko’s eyes light up with mischief.

Paul tightens his arm around you, pulling you closer. “C’mon, babe. Live a little. Or, y’know… unlive a little.” He winks, and you roll your eyes, but the heat of his body against yours sends a shiver down your spine.

Dwayne finally moves, stepping forward until he’s close enough that you can smell the leather of his jacket and the faint tang of salt and iron that clings to him. “You’re tired,” he says, voice low, almost gentle. “Let us take you home.”

It’s not a question, but there’s no threat in it either. Just a quiet certainty, like he already knows you’ll say yes. You glance at David, who’s still watching you, his cigarette forgotten between his fingers. There’s something in his gaze—possessive but not cruel. Like he’s waiting to see what you’ll do.

“Fine,” you say, exhaling like you’re annoyed, but your heart’s pounding. “But I’m not riding on the back of anyone’s bike. Last time, Paul nearly crashed us into a dumpster.”

“Lies!” Paul gasps, clutching his chest dramatically. “I’m an artist on that bike.”

“An artist at chaos,” you mutter, and Marko laughs, sharp and delighted.

David flicks his cigarette away, stepping closer until he’s right in front of you, his presence overwhelming. “You’ll ride with me,” he says, and it’s not a request. His gloved hand brushes your cheek, lingering just long enough to catch your breath. “Unless you’re scared.”

You scoff, meeting his eyes. “Of you? Please.”

His smirk widens, and for a second, you think he’s going to kiss you right there in front of everyone. Instead, he steps back, jerking his head toward the bikes parked nearby. “Let’s go.”

The ride to your apartment is a blur of wind and adrenaline, David’s bike roaring beneath you as you cling to his waist, the leather of his coat cool against your cheek. The others follow their laughter and whoops cutting through the night.

When you reach your place, you expect them to drop you off and peel out, but they don’t. They follow you inside, sprawling across your tiny living room like they own it—Paul kicking off his boots, Marko raiding your fridge, Dwayne leaning against the wall, watching you with that unreadable stare.

David doesn’t sit. He prowls, circling you like a predator as you untie your apron and toss it onto the counter. “You’re tense,” he says, voice low, almost a purr. “Rough night?”

“You could say that,” you reply, leaning against the counter, trying to ignore how your skin tingles under his gaze. “Some creeps at the diner wouldn’t take no for an answer.”

The air shifts. Paul’s head snaps up from where he’s sprawled on the couch, his grin gone. Marko freezes a bottle of soda halfway to his lips. Dwayne’s jaw tightens, his eyes narrowing. David stops moving, his gaze locking onto yours, sharp and dangerous.

“Who?” David asks, and the single word is a blade.

You shrug, trying to play it off. “Just some drunk tourists. I handled it.”

“You handled it,” Marko repeats, setting the bottle down with a thud. “What’d they do?”

“Nothing worth mentioning,” you say, but your voice wavers and you curse yourself for it. “Just… got too close. Said some shit. My boss kicked them out.”

Dwayne pushes off the wall, stepping closer. “They touch you?” His voice is quiet, but there’s a lethal edge to it that makes your heart skip.

“No,” you say quickly. “It’s fine. I’m fine.”

“It’s not fine,” Paul growls, sitting up. “Point ‘em out next time. We’ll handle it.”

You laugh, but it’s shaky. “What, you gonna beat up every jerk who looks at me wrong?”

“Yes,” Marko says, dead serious, and the intensity in his eyes makes your stomach flip.

David’s gloved hand cups your chin, tilting your face to meet his gaze. His touch is firm but not painful, and the heat of his stare makes your breath hitch. “No one touches what’s ours,” he says, voice low and deliberate. “No one bothers you. Ever.”

The possessiveness in his words should scare you, but it doesn’t. Instead, it sends a thrill through you, dangerous and electric. You’re not sure when you stopped being afraid of them—when their sharp edges and glowing eyes started feeling like safety instead of a threat.

“I can take care of myself,” you say, but your voice is softer now, your defiance melting under the weight of their attention.

“We know,” Dwayne says, his voice a low rumble as he steps closer, his hand brushing your arm. “But you don’t have to.”

Paul’s on his feet now, crowding in, his grin back but sharper, hungrier. “You’re ours, babe. Means we’ve got your back. Always.”

Marko’s behind you, closer than you realized, his breath cool against your neck as he murmurs, “And we don’t share.”

Your pulse races, the air thick with tension—sexual, dangerous, intoxicating. You’re surrounded, their bodies close enough that you can feel the unnatural chill of their skin, the promise of something more in every lingering touch. David’s thumb brushes your lower lip, and you swallow hard, caught in the pull of his gaze.

“Get some rest,” he says finally, stepping back and breaking the spell. “We’ll be around.”

They leave as silently as they came, the roar of their bikes fading into the night. But the weight of their promise lingers, heavy and warm, and as you crawl into bed, you know there’s no going back. You’re theirs—and you’re not sure you’d want it any other way.

[thefl3shm4id3n]

Y'all. I think I have a type...

[angxlslair]

Protectors~

🍷pairing : Poly! Lost Boys × Vamp! Female! Reader

🍷 fandom: the lost boys × reader

🍷 summary: Reader is a newly turned vampire and mated toThe Lost Boys. She was turned a few months before Micheal arrived. And the day that Frog Brothers come with the Emerson’s the Reader decided to sleep with her mates. And in their haste to rid Santa Carla of the Vampires they make a grave mistake. (No use of Y/n)

🍷 Word Count:2.7k

🍷: Part 2

The cave was quiet, the only sound being the waves hitting the rocks outside. All of the inhabitants of the cave peacefully sleeping, well almost all of them. Something instinctual, deep in your gut and the back of your mind is telling you somethings not right. Slipping through the dark fog in the faint chime of hushed whispers. Voices exchanging softly, all dim and low like they were sharing secrets.

It has you pushing your face deeper into David’s neck in an attempt to muffle out the sounds, desperate to escape fully back into the comfort of a deep sleep.

You usually slept in a bed that wasn’t far from where the boys slept, while Star and Laddie slept in the more open part of the cave. Something in your mind told you to sleep with the boys, so you listened to it.

When you arrived back at the cave after feeding, you were brought to where they slept. There was a little arguing over who you slept with,but something was telling you to sleep with David. So you stopped them from arguing,and they all climbed up to the bar they hang from. Dwanye stayed on the ground with you, so you had help getting to David. Once David is settled he opens his arms for you, and with a kiss to your head Dwanye helps you wrap yourself around David. Once you’re settled David wrapped his arms around your waist, letting you tuck yourself into his hold.

It’s still daytime. Something deep in your gut and the back of your mind assures that the sun is still high up in the sky, scorching and hot. An intuition that you still don't quite understand, but it has your limbs turning heavy and lax, muscles relaxing in David’s hold Your exhaustion has you numb to the world, the delicate rhythm of the waves crashing outside the cave muting down into nothing, the sound of the quiet voices vanishing.It must be two of the boys. Awake already. It would strike you as odd on any other circumstance, and to a degree it does, but your sluggish brain is quick to let go of that train of thought.

The insistence that something is wrong fading into an ignorable afterthought. The scuffle of shoes along dust and stone ignites a tremble down the notches of your spine, as though your body is begging for you to wake up and investigate while it simultaneously sinks further into David’s tight hold.

Something isn't right, something isn't right.

It's like a chant. A primal whisper that coils through your bones and sinew. Leftovers from your ancestors, remnants of the instincts that had kept them alive long ago, but it all seems null and void against the fatigue that seems to press you down like a physical weight. Even while hidden away from the sun it seems to sap you of all your strength.

It's impossible to even try to rouse yourself. Its as though you're held under water. The strength of that debilitating exhaustion sweeps back over you, making the sound of the angry, masculine voice that rises up high within the cave, reverberating from the dust covered stone, dim and distant. As though it's miles away.

“I feel a draft. I think there’s something up here.” You hear from far-away, murky and vague.

“Let’s check it out Sam.” Another voice.

“I’ll be right back Mike.” A third voice. Mike. Mike. That sounds familiar from somewhere - someone. A name mentioned in passing. Mike. Michael. A discussion carried on by the boys while they were all encircled around one of the burn barrels one night. So casual while they considered the fate of a complete stranger as though they were discussing dinner and not the destiny of a man's soul. Some sap that had apparently caught the eye of Star. She hadn't wanted it to go far, but then again, it's never supposed to go that far. But David wanted the guy dead. He was meant to be her first, she hadn't been able to do it. 

A wave of muddled scents breaks past the barrier of the rotting wood. Unfamiliar and thick, coated with cologne and shampoo that you don't recognize. All of it twisting with something even more out of place here. Something alive. Heat and life and blood. Iron, warmth, and salt. It's distinctly human. Living. The alarms go off in your head. Raging and flashing red in a way that's violent. And a bright light flashes behind your eyelids.

“JESUS.” One of the voices yells, another one screams before being cut off. Your eyes blink, lashes fluttering as you try to fight the sleep weighing your lids down. Your vision blurs a little, straining through the exhaustion, but then you notice the three figures standing below. They're children. Looking lost, dressed in camo and gear as though they've prepared to fight a war. One has his hand wrapped around the mouth of the blonde child muffling his scream. Wide blue eyes reflecting a visible panic while he stumbles back away from the other two. Another swears, cursing sharply under his breath while he flinches. But it's the one closest to you that moves. His dog tags glinting and chiming from a movement so sharp that it had to be a reflex, but the determination burning in his eyes is purposeful. 

“I thought they were supposed to be in coffins.”

“That’s what this cave is. One giant coffin.” The one with the bandanna says as he moved with the other one dressed in camo. They begin to climb up the wood beside your group.

“They’re at their most vulnerable. Easy pickings.”

“You just have to kill the leader huh.”

“We don’t know which on he is. We’ll kill them all.”

“We’ll start with her. She’s already seen us.” They say as the climb closer to where you’re hanging with David. An animal kind of panic tears through you, lighting up your nerves like lives wires, electricity and adrenaline burning through your veins with the white heat of fire. You try to move and wake up David, but your limbs struggle, sleep thawing in your tired arms and legs.

"Kill her, kill her!" One shouts all while the blonde in the background yells at them to stop, but it falls on deaf ears. The boy wielding the stake lunges forward with a war cry. You manage to wiggle slightly in David’s hold.

“David wake up!” A panicked shout rips from your throat, but David remains sleeping.

"The bitch is trying to wake them, you gotta get her before they wake up," someone shouts in a panicked rush. You continue to squirm in David’s hold trying to get the two of you away from the teenagers. Poised in the air, high above the boy's head in an arch. There's hardly any time to act and fear sinks in your gut, chilled and frozen as he drives it down with all the strength he has in his body; his lips curled in a hateful snarl. He's going to kill you. This is it. This is how you die. Your mind screams it over and over again on a broken loop, but your body acts all on its own. It twists so David’s unconscious body turns away from the stake,and your heart is away from the point.

There's no time to rejoice when the stake is already piercing your skin. It sinks in deep, parting flesh and muscle beneath its lethal point. The boy collapses and tips over the side of the ledge that they were standing on. You don't initially realize that you're screaming. You feel it first. The strength of your agonized wail shreds up your throat as though you've swallowed nails, but that pain is secondary to the fire and anguish pulsing through your shoulder. The stake is still wedged inside of your back, burrowing past skin and meat, prying at your shoulder blade like it means to rip it free from the sinew keeping it intact with the other bones. You're bleeding. You can smell it, sharp and distinct in the panicked air. The pain is crippling. Ripping and engulfing, eating up your spine.

The boy with the blue bandana wrapped around his head is stepping forward, already clasping a stake in a white-knuckled hold. The resolve in his eyes is haunting. The desire to kill you fervent and glaring in his stare. That's all it takes to have your voice spilling from you, rising up in another terrified shout.

“BOYS WAKE UP!”

"Say your prayers bloodsucker." He practically spits it out, lips twisting in a grimace as he moves forward preparing to stake you again. And then combined hissing and snarling fills the pit as the boys awaken. They finally awoke to your shouts and the smell of your blood. Four sets of yellow eyes focus in on the three humans in front of them as snarls fill the air.

"Guys, guys, we gotta go." It's the blonde that's repeating it over and over as he sees the vampires awaks, stumbling over his words while he jerks on the other's arms. They give in without any resistance. Fear alive and bright in their eyes, even while the kid with the bandana points his stake in your direction and tosses a quick "This isn't over" at you as the three of them take off in a brisk jumble in the direction that they came from.

The growls from within the cavern raise up higher as the boys realize what happened and it has the kids in a full-blown panic. Tripping over their feet in an ungraceful run as they try and reach the opening of the cave. Your body trembles and your head rolls forward onto the snarling David’s chest.

“YOU’RE DEAD MEAT.”

You can feel your lung snag and pinch as though it's being burned from the inside out, catching on the point of the stake when you inhale. It has you crying, a tear managing to trickle free as your ribcage shudders violently as you gasp. 

You don't want to take your eyes off of them, desperate to track their panicked flee, but your eyes cloud over. Stars dot your vision, spotting and flickering in shifting colors as a vignette blurs around the corners of your sight. You feel the world spin as David jumps down from the bar and lands on his feet. You still cradled against his chest. Three more thumps follow as the rest of the boys land behind. Iron coats your tongue. Thick and wet. Bursting up from the back of your throat while you try to breathe, spitting up with each labored inhale. You can feel your life waning. The strength diminishing, shrinking under your skin. Dying out like a flame that's being smothered. Whimpers spill from your lips as your carefully laid on your bed. You can hear the sound of claws ripping across the earth as two of the vampires tear their way out of the chasm like creatures pouring out of hell.

You hear muffled screams and shouts. The dull thud of hysterical footsteps as they rush to escape before death can seize them. You hear David's bellow roll throughout the cave, crashing over the screams from the horrified children. The loud chaos of it all grows dim - distant as they're no doubt running up the mouth of the cave while Paul's laugh rings out from somewhere far away. 

It makes you jump when a pair of hands smooth over your shoulders, light like a caress, but you can still feel a heavy tremble run through the fingers. A voice hums out, cooing softly to hush you when a strangled sob wrangles out from your body. The way they handle you is delicate, softly turning you over onto your hip and lifting you up to cradle you against their chest as though you might shatter into a million pieces otherwise. Breathing past the wet iron to try and notice the traces of spice and earth and musk. 

It was Dwanye. You try to say his name, but your throat tightens, choking on blood. You can feel his fingers grip your bicep, holding you still and you know that he's looking at the stake punctured deep in your flesh. His hold is nowhere close to the to the wound and yet it flares pain across your nerves, making you twist in his arms while a gutted sob wracks from your body. 

"I know, I know, love. I know,but I have to take it out" he says into your hair. It's difficult to hear his voice past the roaring in your ears, but once the words make it past the hum. It's like you can feel the agony already, simmering and slicing across your fried nerves like the edge of razor blades.

“Marko! I’m gonna need your help. ” He calls and you can hear another person coming. And then a gloved hand is cradling your face. The glove was cold against your skin as the hand tilts your head back from where it was tucked against Dwayne’s shoulder. It makes your lashes flutter, and you have to force yourself to keep your eyes open with how heavy they've grown, weighing heavy and threatening to slip closed.

“If we don’t remove it. You’ll die baby.” Marko says. There's a protest lodged somewhere in your mouth, slick from the blood and caught on a broken gasp, but you don't have time try and voice it.

“I’m gonna hold her still you pull it out.” Dwanye says as his grip around you tightens. Marko nods, gripping the stake in his hand and pulls. You want to scream, but there's no air left in your lungs for you to do so, and all that makes it out is a ragged, splintered gasp. 

Scorching hot pain pours in your veins as he rips the wood from your shoulder. It slices ribbons up your spine, feeling bone deep and white-hot, acid lashing up your muscles.You thrash in Dwayne’s lap, the grip around you tightening and pinning you against his chest. Marko continues to pull the stake from your shoulder, and there’s hardly any relief once its out. The damage it's done is still agonizing, coiling through your muscles. It's as though the flesh on your back has been flayed.

You can faintly hear the clatter of the stake hitting the stone walls. As the two fuss over you, David and Paul rush back into the area where your bed is.

“How is she?” There's a rawness to his voice, a breathless edge despite the non-necessity of breathing.

“She needs to feed.” Dwanye says. “She won’t make it to sundown.”

David stalks forward while dragging his nail across his wrist. He kneels beside your bed and presses his wrist against your lips. You clasp your fingers around his arm, digging into the aged leather of his jacket. Your teeth bury themselves into his arm as his blood pours down your throat. You feel a hand stroking your head as you feed on his blood. Life floods back into you with each gulp, syrupy and warm. The hole made in the split meat and torn flesh of your back begins to mend in a sluggish process, stunted. You’re cradled protectively between Dwayne and David as Paul and Marko hover around the two.

Paul leans over and presses a soft kiss to your forehead.

"Did you get them?"  Dwayne asks.

The thick silence that follows gives Marko and Dwayne their answer. And twin snarls rip out of their throats.

“They’re dead.”

“And they will be. They will be.” David says with a snarl.

“Paul when nightfall hits I want you and Dwayne to go hunt. She’ll need an actual feeding and we’ll need our full strength.” David says as he continues to stroke your hair, letting you have your fill of his blood. He wanted to make sure your wound was healed.

“Marko you’ll be staying here with her while we go take care of the little pests.” Paul nods as he sits on the edge of your bed by your head.

“They’ll regret touching our mate.” They all say as your wound completely healed and you pulled away from David’s wrist sagging against Dwayne as exhaustion took over. The boys continued to plan their attack as you fell into a deep sleep.

[santacarlaswitch]

Imagine…

Imagine Dwayne plowing into you after getting hard from seeing you be all motherly towards laddie…

He thought of you waddling around the cave, heavily pregnant with his child.

The thought making him harder as he brought you to your nth orgasm if the night.

Folding your legs so your knees touched your chest, hands on your thighs, looking at how your pretty pussy sucked him in deliciously.

Dwayne pounding into you so deep and fast it feels as if he’s trying to become one with you.

When he finally cums, it’s deep inside your womb, staying there for a moment before pulling out just to make sure it sticks.

[thelostgirl1987]

Dumbification with Dwayne and Paul (The Lost Boys)

Pairings: Dwayne x human female reader x Paul

(Pretty sure the gif is by @blood-sucking-freaks)

"We really need to turn her soon," said Dwayne as his hands roamed all over the front of your body as you sat on the bed in the cave. "She's too fragile as a human."

Paul, keeping you with your back pressed against his chest, made a sound of disapproval. "Aww but I love the way she tastes while she's still human."

He caressed your neck from behind.

You took a deep breath, knowing what was about to happen.

Paul sank his fangs into your tender flesh quicker than you thought, your breath getting stuck in your throat.

Dwayne took advantage of your parted lips to slide his tongue in, and his hand palmed at your breast.

You moaned into his mouth as pain and pleasure mixed in your body.

When Paul pulled back, Dwayne licked the blood on your neck. He hummed in bliss.

"See? Told ya!" Paul said. "She's too tasty like this. We can wait, before turning her."

"Stop-Stop talking about me as if I'm not here!" you just about managed to complain, even though they had been playing with you long enough to turn you into a confused and babbling mess. "It should be my decision anyway."

"Shhh, shhh, shhh," Dwayne whispered, pressing his index agains your lips. "We know what's best for you, baby. You don't have to worry about a thing," and then looking at Paul: "We'll take care of her, won't we?"

"Yeah." You felt him smirk against your neck. "And use her."

"That too," Dwayne chuckled, trailing kisses down the other side of your neck. "That too."

[im-n-your-walls]

-𝕭𝖆𝖎𝖙 𝕬𝖓𝖉 𝕾𝖜𝖎𝖙𝖈𝖍.⋆♱⋆˙⟡

𝕾𝖞𝖓𝖔𝖕𝖘𝖎𝖘. biting and kissing their neck instead of them doing it to you

𝕻𝖆𝖎𝖗𝖎𝖓𝖌𝖘. the lost boys + star and micheal x g.n. reader {separate}

𝕸𝖎𝖈𝖍𝖊𝖆𝖑 doesn’t know what to do. He's entirely new to being a vampire and to have someone flip it on him? He's floored and just laying in bed as you work your magic. Though once he is comfortable his hands walk on your sides, maybe one on your thigh to pull you closer.

𝕯𝖆𝖛𝖎𝖉 tries to bite back. David is the leader, he's never been in a position to where he is under someone's control. (other than max ofc) he doesn't like it at all. Yeah at the start he’ll joke but when you get into the knitty gritty of it all he starts to become squeamish. His hands grasp your arms and he tries to pull you under him. But, I believe if you do it long enough or bite down hard on his neck he'll just melt like puddy in your arms.

𝕯𝖜𝖆𝖞𝖓𝖊 mumbles into your ear and caresses your back. As I've stated before, Dwayne is the romantic type. He likes things slow when it comes to his partners. Instead of being pinned down like micheal or david he'd be sat down with you in his lap. He adores it and can't get enough of you biting his neck.

𝕻𝖆𝖚𝖑 moaning, groaning horny mess. He's a horn dog ok!! (everyone on the planet knew this) He immediately melted into you once your canines hit his neck. His hands would either rome in short bursts or stay laced with yours. He was in heaven. When he finally regains some sort of sanity he's immediately talking smack, playfully of course. He wants to rile you up as much as possible to get you to bite harder. freak

𝕸𝖆𝖗𝖐𝖔 teases and plays around. His hands are all around your body. Like Paul he moans and smirks. He pulls your hair, wraps his legs around your waist as you hover over him, really anything to get you riled up to get you more excited.

𝕾𝖙𝖆𝖗 melts into your touch. Like Dwayne, she sits with you. With her on your lap. She whispers into your ear as you work, soft moans and whimpers. Her hands also are clamped around your back. She loves you an unimaginable amount and doesn't want you to leave. Star also returns the gesture by peppering your shoulder with kisses as you bite her neck.

bait and switch?? more like bite and switch!! :DDDDDDD

pls laugh...

omg uuh edit ubt I just noticed in the pairings I put David instead of Micheal... I am laughing and crying I am so stupid lmaooo

[iloveslasher]

Love like no one is watching

(Dwayne x Reader)

The cave was unusually quiet.

Well — quiet for the vampire den tucked beneath the cliffs of Santa Carla.

The distant crash of waves echoed through the tunnels while candlelight flickered softly against the stone walls, casting everything gold and warm. Dwayne sat stretched out on the old couch near the back of the cave, one arm draped lazily around your waist while you rested against his chest.

A half-finished bottle of wine sat abandoned on the table nearby.

You traced absentminded patterns over the rings on his fingers while he played with strands of your hair.

Neither of you had spoken in several minutes.

Not because anything was wrong.

Just because being around Dwayne had always been strangely easy.

“You’re staring again,” you murmured.

“I know.”

You smiled without looking up. “Creepy.”

His chest rumbled softly with a laugh.

Dwayne tilted his head down slightly, eyes half-lidded as he looked at you. Even after all this time, his attention still made your stomach flutter embarrassingly fast.

“You’re comfortable,” he said simply.

“As opposed to?”

“Everyone else.”

You snorted. “That sounds vaguely insulting.”

“It wasn’t.”

You looked up then, meeting those dark, impossibly soft eyes of his.

God.

Dwayne never talked much about how he felt, which made moments like this hit twice as hard.

“You’re comfortable too,” you admitted quietly.

A smug little smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth. “I know.”

“Oh, shut up.”

He grinned properly this time — rare enough on its own — before leaning down to kiss you.

Slow.

Lazy.

The kind of kiss that didn’t need urgency behind it.

One of his hands slid along your jaw while yours curled loosely into the front of his shirt. The world melted away into warmth and candlelight and the familiar scent of leather and smoke clinging to him.

Then—

“OH COME ON.”

You jumped apart instantly.

Paul stood near the cave entrance looking personally offended, arms spread dramatically while Marko cackled beside him carrying several greasy bags of boardwalk food.

“Are you serious?” Paul groaned loudly. “I’m traumatized.”

“You literally flirt with anything that breathes,” you shot back.

“Yeah, but I don’t wanna see him happy.”

Marko nearly doubled over laughing.

Behind them, David wandered into the cave carrying his bottle of Chinese takeout completely unbothered.

He took one glance at you half-curled in Dwayne’s lap.

Then at Dwayne.

Then sighed.

“Finally,” David muttered. “Thought you two were gonna keep doing that weird longing stare thing forever.”

You blinked. “You noticed that?”

“All of us noticed that,” Marko said immediately.

Paul pointed accusingly. “It was disgusting. Every night it was all—” he clasped his hands dramatically to his chest and stared at Marko with fake intensity, “‘Y/N… pass me the bottle.’”

Marko burst into hysterics while Paul continued, “‘Dwayne… are you cold?’”

“I do not sound like that,” you argued.

“You totally do,” Paul said.

Dwayne, meanwhile, looked entirely unbothered by the chaos unfolding around him. One hand still rested casually on your hip like he refused to acknowledge the interruption at all.

Marko tossed a bag of fries toward the couch. “Anyway, lovebirds, we brought food.”

“You stole food,” David corrected flatly.

Paul gasped dramatically. “David, that is such an ugly accusation.”

“You paid for none of this.”

“Okay but in my defense,” Paul said seriously, “capitalism is oppressive.”

You laughed so suddenly you snorted.

The entire cave went silent.

Paul immediately pointed at you. “I heard that.”

“Oh my god.”

Marko collapsed against the wall wheezing while even David looked mildly entertained now.

Dwayne looked down at you with the softest expression imaginable, thumb brushing gently across your side.

“There it is again,” Paul complained.

“What?”

“That look.” He gagged theatrically. “He’s doing the look.”

“You’re jealous,” you teased.

“Damn right I am. Nobody looks at me like that.”

Marko patted his shoulder. “Tragic.”

Dwayne ignored all of them completely.

His forehead rested lightly against yours while the others bickered in the background over stolen fries and who ate the last chili dog.

“You okay?” he asked quietly.

Your heart melted a little.

“I’m perfect.”

He smiled softly before kissing you again anyway — slower this time, sweeter.

Immediately:

“BOOOOOO!”

Paul threw a fry at both of you.

[chaiscentedcandle]

Sh*t, He’s so Pretty

𝙳𝚠𝚊𝚢𝚗𝚎~𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝙻𝚘𝚜𝚝 𝙱𝚘𝚢𝚜

Summary: You never noticed him till he noticed you, never taking his eyes off you

Working at the small diner inside the boardwalk, you never had much time to remember faces, but his, that was different

Warnings: none? Slightly angsty? Slight stalking(sort of) implied fem!reader, readers work fit is described as a blouse and knee length skirt that’s all🙏🏽

Authors note: IVE BEEN WAAAANNTING to write a Dwayne fic for a HOT minute, this is my first write for someone outside of the HP fandom and I’m kinda excited ngl, this gif is literally my pfp too like UUGHHH🙏🏽

The boardwalk was loud, chaotic, smelling of sweets, fried food, and sweat. Sometimes the saltiness of the ocean breezed through, no matter what day or time it was always filled with screams of laughter and arrogant teenagers.

You never came to the boardwalk on your days off, what’s the need? You’re already there four days out of the week, why spend it at your job? Tonight though, your friends pleaded with you to join them for the free concert, strong willed until finally you gave in, you never stayed or really watched the free bands anyways, most of the time it being a day you didn’t work.

The atmosphere of tonight felt exciting, maybe something in the wind, or the fact you’re actually doing something on your day off, that being the main argument your friends gave.

They had rushed you at your tiny house, crowded into your bedroom, taking a record and playing whilst talking, getting ready for the night.

Before even entering the boardwalk you could already hear the squeals of children and adults wafting out, tonight being particularly busy, just like any other nights when the music played, the beat of music vibrating from the floor, in a way giving adrenaline to your friends, walking faster as they weave through people to the stage.

Tonight was like every night for Dwayne. Him and the rest of the crew lurking at the boardwalk, covering a railing close to their bikes but in view of the stage, you hadn’t noticed it but making your way to the stage, you had walked right past the boys, Dwayne’s eyes finding you in an instant, soon as he did, he didn’t want to take them off you, it was like you walked by in slow motion, you captivated him, your beauty shining with the fluorescent neon lights.

The way you moved, how your hair bounced with you, the slyness of your smile, you left a scent behind that Dwayne would never forget, almost immediately becoming his favorite.

Once you made your way past, he moved from the railing, keeping a good distance but just enough to see you. David hadn’t questioned him, turning to the rest of the boys, a smirk resting on the corners of his mouth, motioning to follow Dwayne. Paul and Marko bounding with excitement, Dwayne never showed much interest, in anything.

A decently sized crowd had already formed, most likely hours before you even left. Impatiently your friends weaved their way close enough to the makeshift stage, Dwayne and the boys stopping just a short distance in from where the crowd ended, he had a good view of you, tentatively watching, making sure no one was disturbing you.

You had made it in the middle of the bands set, blissfully watching and unaware. A new band making their way, quickly playing their first song, it wasn’t until the fourth or fifth song, you finally felt it.

The feeling of someone’s gaze peering into the back of you, first you looked at the people nearest to you, but their eyes fixated at the people above, then you looked a little farther, nothing. As if a kind of instinct in you, turning your body slightly to see almost at the top, a man. Long dark, and well kept hair, heavy leather jacket with leopard print on one sleeve, wearing a chunky necklace.

That piercing stare, felt like he was looking in you, reading you in a way. He had you captivated, the stoic-hardness of his face, the way he watched you almost flattering with a sense of eeriness behind it. You watched each other for a moment, before you slowly turned back around to your friends, unnoticed.

The night carried and the music played. Staying for two more bands before collectively deciding to go back to the boardwalk, indulging in the amusement before you.

Yet the feeling of eyes watching you never left. Not while walking through the fun house, your friends giggling as you navigate through the mirror maze, for a few seconds you swear he was there with you, the brooding, mysterious man. Catching him in a mirror, you see him, but dare you say he’s…lucid. Not quite see-through but not opaque. He wasn’t near but nor was he far. Not giving in, you tell yourself is the fun house, it’s meant to play tricks.

The feeling still didn’t leave, not even in the haunted house. Your friends gripping to each other, as if the decor was real, making it halfway you can’t deny the feeling of someone behind you, trying to convince yourself it’s the house, but curiosity taking over you, slowly turning to see, him. Just down the hallway, if you hadn’t seen him before you would’ve thought he was apart of the attraction, eyes locked to each other, even in the dimly lit hallway, you could make out his eyes, the scream from two of your friends bringing you back, not before taking a quick glance.

He’s gone you thought, deciding to leave it be.

As your group makes their way out, there you see him again, just across from the crowd, he was watching, the group he’s with barely paying any mind, watching the other people go by.

“Who is he?” Rang out one of your friends, another giving a half shrug, their gazes turning to you “do you know him?” they ask, giving a fake smile, not wanting to disrupt the mood “no idea, probably a regular” you say.

“His stare is creepy” said another friend, yet you couldn’t agree, you somehow couldn’t find it creepy, uneasy? Most likely, but beneath it, is something more.

Moving to the carousel, the conversation drifting back to normal adult occurrences. Grocery shopping, laundry, what nail polish to use next, but by now you couldn’t get him out of your mind, the anatomy of his face, the way his eyes made your entire body warm, how you didn’t even know his name but he was already doing things to you.

You feel a jolt to your shoulder, coming back from your daydream to see how far you’ve moved in line.

“Y/N? Are you okay? You’ve been quiet” stated your friend, again you give a small, fake smile “yes, sorry just..thinking about work in a couple days” your quickness covering it up.

“We’re here to have fun, not think about work” your friend says, moving through the ride, finding which animal to sit on, coincidentally you chose the motorcycle.

Your laughter along with your friends fill the air, though the ride just went in circles, you enjoyed the moment and for a minute your mind slipped.

That is until you hear heavy footsteps behind you, who would be walking on a carousel? You think to yourself, turning around, you make eye contact with a tall, platinum haired man, his stare cold. Following behind is him, the dark haired mystery man, his eyes upon you before you could reciprocate, his crew approaching faster than you thought, but time seemed to have slowed.

He was looking you all over, reading you, studying you. An ever so sly smile appearing as he catches the motorcycle beneath you. You could feel your heart thump fast and loud the closer he came. He smelled of smoked hide and dew, a scent you’ll never forget.

You could only think of one thing as he approached.

Shit, he’s so pretty

Your sight never breaking with each other. Soon he was in front of you, impossibly close but still not close enough, he had you in his gaze. His friends ogling at yours, them being rather uninterested.

As soon as he was in front of you, he was already passing you, still steadily holding eye contact for a few steps then turning forward again “what was that all about-“ your friend starts but before anyone could answer, there’s a loud commotion and the ride came to a halt.

Looking back in front of you, you see the security guard had the tall platinum man by his neck, another janky looking man had Dwayne by his collar, shoving him off quickly.

Before you could even realized, you had slipped off your seat, standing still, making no moves, your hand holding onto the pole, you wanted to intervene, watching as the security guard kicked them off the boardwalk, followed by the couple.

“Maybe we should go home” wearily your friend stated. Their altercation being the end to your night.

🦇 🦇 🦇 🦇 🦇 🦇 🦇 🦇

Since that fateful night, you hadn’t been able to rid that dark, yet enticing man. He had a hold on you, no words were exchanged, you hadn’t even known his name and he was already doing things to you.

You hoped getting ready for work would distract you, tucking your work blouse into your skirt. You worked the night shifts at the diner, one of the few places that stayed open late on the boardwalk.

Your mind would wander back to his eyes, how beautifully dark brown they are. Wondering if you’d see him, making you anxious and hopeful at the same time.

Your shift was just like any other. You walked to work, living not far away. You’d get there just before the sun would set, punching your card in then immediately seating and serving customers.

Within two hours the sun had been gone and night settled in. Entering into rush hour as more people filled the diner, wiping down a table and clearing the cups, you seat a family of four in a corner booth. Slipping your note pad out, pen at the ready “can I get you started with drinks?” Your sweet, customer service voice, naturally coming to you after working for so long.

Finally, the darker it got the closer it came to the end of your shift. Not knowing how many milkshakes and burgers you served or people you seated.

Steadily holding your server tray as you bring a group their drinks, carefully grabbing one by one, setting them down, scribbling on your notebook their food orders, you feel something again, someone watching.

Looking over your shoulder, out the window on the railing, it’s him. The diner being covered in windows left it easy to see inside but even then, from miles away, he could still spot you.

The light reflecting off him and casting perfect shadows, he looked so good you couldn’t deny, it made your face hot but your body tremble slightly, he had that demeanor to him.

You tried to ignore it, but a few minutes later, there they are. Him and his pose. Standing, waiting to be helped. And it was you who had to seat them. You tried to collect yourself, wiping your hands against your apron, taking a deep breath and you approach the front, grabbing four menus “anybody joining you?” You ask, the platinum-leather clad man from the other night answering “just us” motioning for them to follow you “right this way then”

He never took his eyes off you, not since spotting you outside and not even when they entered, watching you walk around the diner and over to them, your sweet voice filling his head. You could feel his stare in your back.

Sitting them by the exit that splits the diner, they fill into the booth. David and Marko taking the inside while Paul was next to Marko, and Dwayne next to David, still piercing you with his gaze. Setting the menus down you ask “any drinks?” Followed by your customer smile “just soda” David responded, nodding you make your way behind the bar, filling the cups with ice, but your heart was pounding so loud you could barely hear yourself scoop the ice, filling the soda was a blur and your already back in front of them.

You tried to hide your nervousness, but as you set the drinks down, the ice sloshing around, giving you away, they tentatively watched as you set them down, feeling your anxiousness pulse from your body. Starting with Marko then ending with Dwayne, holding the eye contact for a few seconds before switching to the whole group, tray under your arm, notepad out “would you like any food?” Asking softly, again David being the first to answer “I’ll be alright” followed by Marko piping “I want a burger” giving a sultry smile, quickly jotting down you ask “would you like fries with that?” To a quick response “absolutely, darling” nothing near the gawk you get from young to old men most days, but to Dwayne, he gave Marko a chilling side eye, Marko trying to refrain his giggle.

Paul giving his order before you could even ask “I’ll have a burger too, actually” his smile almost replicating Marko’s “fries with that as well?” You ask again, with Paul giving a quick “of course”

Now shifting your gaze to Dwayne, his stare felt more intense, the brownness of his eyes almost black. He just stared, taking all of you in again, not uttering a single word, feeling like minutes though it’s only been seconds “he’ll be alright too” David answers, nodding you mumbling a quick “perfect” you rip the ticket off and make your way behind the bar once again, handing the ticket to the kitchen through the window.

Before you could even turn around, you could hear the ding ding of the bell at the front, impatiently and repeatedly. A short sigh and hustle over you see the dreaded group, surf nazis, as a few liked to call them by, unfortunately tonight they’re paying customers, maybe. Luckily for you they never came in often, but when they did, it was never an easy night.

Hurriedly walking over and bringing them to a booth. The diner had been packed, leaving the only booth open three tables down from the boys, separated by the exit door, they could be separated by a whole continent and it would still be too close.

You could feel the tension in the diner grow thick, suddenly feeling how hot the air had been. The two groups made eye contact as they were seated, almost like a warning to each other, don’t get out of line and we won’t do anything.

Praying to yourself all you had to do was take their order and hopefully leave. “What can I get started?” You begin, instantly who you could assume as the “leader” chimes in “get us all milkshakes would you, babe? And uh..put something little extra in mine could you” almost demanding, you didn’t want to know what he meant by that, with his sickly grin.

Giving a half smile and nodding quick, writing down their flavors “any whip cream on top?” You didn’t want to be there but avoiding any conflict “absolutely” the guy began before leaning closer “maybe you could put whip cream on my top” again, you didn’t want to know what he meant with his gross advances, only going tight lipped then walking away.

The one night you wish they hadn’t also put you to milkshakes, having to walk past Dwayne and them to the station, yet this time his eyes weren’t on you, it was on the other group, his gaze looked like it could kill, the diner was loud but he heard everything, and his grip could break the table.

You made a pit stop at the kitchen window, Marko and Paul’s food sitting on top, gently sliding them off then away “here we are, sorry about the wait” you said, David plucking a fry from Marko’s plate, the two not wasting a second with their food.

Having not even stepped a foot away, Dwayne’s voice, tough yet soft, directed to you “if they’re messing with you, tell me” his eyes demanding but voice protective.

Heat rushed to your cheeks, this was your first time hearing his voice, you almost wished he said more. Stunned for a second, you reply “oh, thank you, it’ll be alright, I’ll be getting off soon” giving him a quick smile then going to the milkshake station.

How he wished you smiled at him again

Never in a shift do you think you’ve made milkshakes that fast before, even holding the tray with two hands because godforbid you dropped any.

They eyed you almost hungrily as you slid the tray onto the table “anything else?” Asking quickly, thinking you’re off the hook, but the leader having other plans, replying “yeah actually” audacity dripping in his tone, swiftly he grabbed your wrist. Not going unnoticed by Dwayne.

“Maybe, you could respond when someone gives you a compliment” he said, referring to earlier “I’m sorry sir, it’s a very busy night-“ he interrupts you “how about not taking so long for damn milkshakes” his voice raised laced with unnecessary anger, trying to slip your wrist away, people began to turn and stare.

“I’m sorry sir” you say again “their food was ready I had too-” he interrupts again, this time letting go of you in favor for grabbing his shake, slipping out the booth to face you, feeling his hot, putrid breath on your face, slightly turning away from him “this isn’t even the milkshake I ordered” now you know he’s trying to cause problems, you know that is specifically the one he did order “my apologies, I can remake-“ but of course, he doesn’t let you finish, as he’s poured half of the cold, sticky treat on your blouse.

Embarrassment ran throughout your entire body, you’ve had your fair share of rude customers, but not like this.

Your blouse wasn’t see through, that is unless liquid touches it. Most of the treat slipping and falling off, leaving a wet trail down your blouse. The surf nazi chuckling, his gaze steady on your chest “you can make it up by showing me what’s under that skirt” too much confidence in his voice, his comment almost taking your breath away, in a bad kind of way.

Dwayne could have murdered him in front of everyone for what he did to you, alas he settled for less. As soon as it happened, he leapt from his seat, grabbing a napkin, gently handing it to you before harshly grabbing the man by his shirt, face mere inches from his “you don’t touch her” he began in a low, threatening grow “leave her alone” he wasn’t asking, he demanded.

The surf nazi taking it as a challenge because nothing can be de-escalated with them “oh yeah?” He raised his eye brow to Dwayne, like it was scary. Holding out the barely empty glass, letting go of it, expecting to meet with a crash but Dwayne’s reflex was faster than the man would ever think.

Gripping his shirt harder, pulling him closer. By now the rest of the boys had followed suit, standing behind Dwayne while almost shielding you.

“Get out” he growled once more. The man glanced over to the rest of the boys, finally backing down, barely shoving Dwayne off before muttering a “let’s go” giving them an ugly look as they each passed by to leave.

Of course by now, almost the whole diner was looking at you. Never feeling so small before, holding the napkins to your chest, wanting to just run out and go home. Setting down the glass, Dwayne turned to you, gaze steady and fixated on you, your mind fried and upset.

Without saying anything, he took his jacket off while leading you outside. Careful to place his heavy jacket on you, the weight of it on your shoulders, you stared off a few feet in front of you, processing. Dwayne by your side, his presence almost comforting.

“Let me take you home” he says, breaking the silence, your eyes cut to his, how sincere they look at you. Your quiet for a few seconds “it’s okay, I-“ he doesn’t let you finish “I’m taking you home” again not asking, stating. You hold his jacket tighter to you, his smell surrounding you, lightly nodding you give a quiet “okay”

He leads you to his bike, it’s quiet but loud, nothing said except the screams of people and the sounds of the arcade. He gets on first, gesturing to you behind him, doing exactly that.

You don’t even get to tell him where to go before the roar of his bike echoes, grabbing your arms to put around him, flustered once again but in a good way. Still you don’t know his name and now you’re touching his body. His deliciously sculpted body.

The bike jolts then off you are. Riding fast, its mere seconds before the front of the boardwalk disappears, you grip him tighter. Too soon enough, you’re at the front of your house.

“Here we are” Dwayne states, slowly you make your way off his bike. Standing in front of him, you both share a moment, the moonlight hitting him just perfectly “I don’t even know your name” you say, to which you receive a low chuckle.

“It’s Dwayne” he tells you. Dwayne, you try to memorize “and yours?” He asks, that’s right, you almost forgot you had a name “Y/N” you say softly, slipping off his jacket, giving it back to him, watching how his muscles and shoulders contort. Again you stare at each other, content, you could almost see a certain gentleness in his eyes.

You can’t help but think again

Shit, he’s so pretty, another chuckle, almost as if he heard you.

“I never told you where I live” you suddenly bring up. A sly smile upon his lips. But he says nothing, watching as you turn, walking the short path to your door. Your hand rests on the handle as you turn back to look at him once more, the silence being filled by his motor, he doesn’t move, waiting for you make it inside.

The soft click of your door then sigh of relief, resting your back against the hardwood. Slowly you hear his engine get quieter and quieter.

Only one thought on your mind.

I need to see him again