5 Likes And I’ll Write Trans James Pegging Dave

first request I’m asking for anyone so bear with me..

jason gets a new pair of the tightest and most flattering jeans known to mankind and gets james super hard before and during a show (hence Jason getting the best dick of his life afterwards)

thank you for your patience!! here’s your request :) sorry that it moves so fast!

What He Deserves

1989

CW - groping, hotel sex, slight sweat kink but it’s not brought up much and also very slight corruption kink kind of idk

It wasn’t fair.

It wasn’t fair that Jason got to stride around in those ridiculously tight jeans and tease James like that. Everyone could see the perfect outline of Jason’s deliciously plump ass— he was showing it off like some sort of slut when he had no place to. Jason belonged to James and James only, so what the hell was he thinking wearing the sluttiest pants known to man?

James huffs in frustration. He walks behind his boyfriend, eyes trying to look anywhere but Jason’s plush ass, inevitably failing and giving in several times. He tells himself he can’t be blamed and that it’s the Newkid’s fault for being too damn sexy. The brunette walking in front of him is completely oblivious to James’ hungry eyes, thankfully. If he had known the blonde was eyefucking him into next week, he would’ve surely popped a boner. And god knows his black jeans would only accentuate his thick erection instead of restraining it.

Eventually, the boys made it to the steps leading to the stage though James could’ve sworn it took about ten years. The crowd cries out with excitement as the lights dim and the background music comes to a halt. James makes sure he sneaks a quick squeeze to a confused Jason before a quiet yelp of surprise emits from his chapped lips. A glare, and the boys finally haul themselves on the wooden stage and prepare for the opening chords of Creeping Death; a crowd favorite.

If Jason had to describe the show with one word, he’d choose tense. His lover shot him one too many angry looks for Jason to shrug it off as just James being James. Not to mention the curious spark hiding behind those piercing, blue eyes. Not only was James looking at him with fury, but he gazed at the bassist with lust. Pure, unadulterated, lust. Jason’s limp bulge caught his eye more times than he could count on two hands. Don’t get him wrong— James remembered how his lover’s hard cock looked. But god, James would be lying if he said he wasn’t day dreaming about how beautiful it would look, hot and heavy in his hands. Or in his mouth.

James wasn’t religious. But he thanked god his guitar covered his bulge. Thanked him for fate gracing him with the reality of being a rhythm guitarist so he wouldn’t have to rip a blistering solo while all he can think about is ass and cock. Jason’s ass and cock, to be exact. And, seriously, fuck Jason for making the guitarist feel like he was a horny teenager all over again while he was in front of thousands of fans.

It was all because of those stupid pants. Those stupidly hot, sexy, utterly delicious pants. If James went insane, he had Jason and his slutty clothing to blame. So of course he was just as pissed and more importantly, just as horny as he exited the stage. The screams of the audience rung in his ears lowly. Nothing but background noise to him as his mind wandered into dangerous boner territory. For fucks sake, he was still in public. Seems like his dick or brain didn’t care enough.

The travel back to the hotel was similar to the walk to the stage, except this time ten times harder and ten times longer. Double whammy. Not too great for James, but he’s sure whatever god is torturing him is having a good laugh. Every time Jason ends up in front of him, whether that be walking to the car, out of the car and into the hotel, or just standing in front of him, James’ eyes are glued to his ass. If he were a little more sober or a little less head over fucking heels for his boyfriend’s body, he would feel a little more shame for his perversion.

Now he lays in his shitty hotel bed, his entire body exhausted. Except for his cock. Because James was a pervert and helplessly addicted to Jason. The anger and jealously had mellowed over the hours and faded into a need to take care of his Jason, so surely he couldn’t be so bad— right? He was just a man. James sighs, half hard, and looks at Jason.

Jason lays beside him, still clothed in his stage wear. Everyone knew Jason sweat buckets on stage and his clothes were clear evidence. His damp black clothes may have been a turn off to others because of this, but it only made James want to come closer. James’ gaze grabs the other boy’s attention and he turns his head to look at his lover. Jason lazily blinks and pays him a lopsided smile.

“..We sounded good, yeah? Why were you so.. weird earlier.”

James scoffs at that.

“You really wanna know?”

Jason nods.

The blonde stares into those beautiful eyes of Jason’s before his thick fingers slither up to the bassist’s wrist to take control of his sweaty wrist. Slowly, James brings Jason’s hand to the guitarist’s half hard dick and Jason only takes a split second to notice that James’ isn’t soft. Jason looks at James with those angelic, nearly innocent eyes and silently shifts closer to his boyfriend.

“..Have you been like this all night?” Jason whispers, his hand still resting upon James’ growing erection.

“God, you have no fuckin’ idea—“

James is cut off by a desperate kiss, and he thinks he could just float into heaven with how delicious Jason’s lips are. He’s been waiting for this all night, damnit, and now that he has Jason all to himself, he’s not sure how long he will be able to control himself. The bassist kissing him begins to slowly move his roughed up palm and fingers up and down James’ shaft. James fights the urge to growl into the kiss and ruts into Jason’s hand like he’ll die if he doesn’t get more friction right now. The angelic brunette obliges to the silent request for more friction; his hand slides on James’ cock with more pressure and feels himself harden.

Suddenly, James pulls away, heaving. Jason looks at him with a hint of confusion in his eyes, but continues to rub him through his jeans.

“Do you know how much you’ve been teasing me tonight? Huh?”

Jason pauses. Teasing him? He hasn’t even spoke to him except for the couple interactions they’ve had on stage.

“Those fucking slutty pants you have on? They’ve been driving me crazy. I’ve wanted to fuck you since the beginning of the night.”

Oh.

Jason blinks. Then blushes. He hadn’t necessarily planned to tease his boyfriend, but knowing that he probably looked like a chunk of meat to a hungry tiger to his boyfriend all night got him twitching in his pants. Were they really that tight?

“Fuck.. that’s why you’ve been so hungry? You’re makin’ me horny too, yknow.”

James growls and smashes their lips together once again before his hands fly to Jason’s tight pants, squeezing his bulge before ripping them off along with his boxers in a single swift movement. Jason lets out a stifled squeak as the cool air hits his full erection, feeling exposed to the completely clothed James on top of him. The brunette tugs on his frontman’s shirt, silently begging him to remove it. James gets the memo and breaks the kiss before throwing off his shirt and beginning to unzip and undo his own jeans. Jason silently thanks his past self for buying those god forsaken jeans when he sees his boyfriend’s cock be ripped out of those tight boxers, standing proud in all of its glory.

“Jesus.. almost forgot how fuckin’ big you are.. Gonna fuck me with that?”

He already knows the answer to that. And so does James, considering he’s already reaching for the lube and popping the squeaky cap open to squirt a thick glob onto his calloused fingertips. Jason watches him, squirming a bit in anticipation. His hole shudders at just the sight of the cold lube hitting James’ skin. It only takes a few seconds after for James to plunge his coated fingers inside. The bassist yelps from the intrusion and grips the sheets and James is quick to shush him. Jason’s glossy eyes meet his lovers and they share a lustful gaze as he’s worked open.

“‘M gonna fuck ya so hard, so good.. just you wait..”

Shifting in his spot, Jason whines as another finger enters him. And another. And another.. and he’s stuffed full.

“Do it now, fuck— don’t need more prep, just— get it in!” Jason pleads.

How could James say no to that?

James lines himself up with the soaked hole presented in front of him like a beautifully wrapped present and grips the smaller boy’s hips before rutting into him and filling him to the halt with a single thrust. Jason nearly screams, but James is quick to cover his mouth with his hand. With teary eyes, Jason looks to his lover again before James starts a brutal pace fucking into his hole with reckless abandon. Sobs try to escape from the restraint that is James’ hand, but fail. If James could change it, he’d let Jason cry his heart out and moan as loud as he pleased. But not tonight, not here— they had to be quiet. The steady squeak of the bed wasn’t much help to their case.

Hips collied with hips as the scent of sex filled the air. Both let out muffled cries and moans of pleasure, minutes passing by, feeling like they were merely seconds. After the blonde was sure Jason was done trying to scream from the pleasure and pain, he removes his hand. James’ chest heaves up and down as he fucks into his boyfriend before he leans down to bring his mouth to Jason’s ear.

“You’re such a dirty fuckin’ boy. Showing off your ass like that, all night. You deserve this, you deserve to get used by me. You are mine. Mine. Got that?”

A whimper, and Jason spasms around James. His hole clenches and unclenches as his cock throbs heavy. A sticky pearl of precum begins to form, and Jason knows that when he cums he’s gonna have the most earth-shattering orgasm he’s ever had the pleasure of experiencing. Everything with James was always good because he was hot and ungodly experienced but it went to another level when he was pent up. Not only were they both hornier and needier than they had been in months, the whole situation felt like a plot out of a porn movie you’d find at a run-down movie store with a underpaid worker who told you to fuck right off.

Jason was getting that fuck.

He loved it.

James huffed and tilted his head back, his mane of soft blonde hair resting on his shoulders as his cock dug into his sub’s prostate. By now, Jason was in tears from the unforgiving pressure on his prostate and knew he wouldn’t last long. Hell, he never lasted long— but it was particularly embarrassing now when he was about to cum untouched in just a couple minutes because his boyfriend was too damn hot and his dick was too damn thick. And when he opened his mouth to warn James about the fact he was about to spill his load all over his newly washed Metallica shirt, James responded by spitting in his mouth.

That was it.

Jason cried out and splattered cum all over himself as he tightened around James. Salty tears dripped down his soft, pink cheeks as James followed shortly after. Hot seed filled him to the brim as the beast of a man above him growled as his hips shook and balls tightened. He looked absolutely divine— but it was hard to focus on anything, even if it was as beautiful as James, when he was having the best orgasm he’s ever had after barely any foreplay, a couple minutes of sex and not a single touch to his dick.

Pathetic, but, he smiles.

James pulls out and sees the breath taking scene below him.

They’re finally both satisfied, because Jason got what he deserved.

this took nearly two hours help

Ok it is december 1st.

FEMTALLICA

Jason is a bottom no one can tell me otherwise

Hi there!

I have a request based on some of the crazy comments I've read so many times. So, Lars (in 80s or 90s) somehow comes across the comments like 'It should be Lars, not Cliff' and becomes really upset. He is utterly devastated because of the hate he gets, one day James notices it (finds him crying after the rehearsal) and comforts him, so Lars gets all the TLC he deserves 🥰

𝐉𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐒/𝐋𝐀𝐑𝐒 - 𝐓𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭

warnings: angst, self-hating speech, comfort, Lars deserves better, James is actually nice

more under the cut :)

Lars is distraught. 

They’re right. It should have been him. Cliff should be there, up on stage. In the studio. In the photoshoots. He shouldn’t be here in Cliff’s place, hanging out with his bandmates and smiling and doing whatever it is that he does. 

It should have been him.

He tosses the magazine across his room and towards his door, burying his face in his hands. There’s a gentle ‘oof’ in place of the magazine hitting wood, and his head snaps up. James stands in his open doorway, magazine rumpled at his feet.

James is looking at Lars, and he can tell right away something’s going on. He walks over to Lars, and steps over the magazine. He sits next to his friend, wrapping an arm around his shoulders. “Lars? You okay?” He asks, his voice softer than normal.

Lars just leans his head on James’ shoulder, keeping his eyes closed. He doesn’t want James to see him like this. Soft, emotional, crying…Lars was none of those things. He’s just…tired. He’s tired.

James glances at Lars, his grip tightening slightly. “Hey, talk to me. You know you can—”James starts, but cut off by Lars’ voice.

“Stop talking.” It’s soft, but demanding. Still, James stays silent, and just rubs small circles on Lars shoulders.

“It should have been me.”

James’ hand freezes for a moment, before he starts rubbing small circles again. “…What?” He finally asks, trying to seem as calm as possible. He’s never seen Lars like this before, never.

“It should have been me. Cliff should be here. With you guys. Not—”

Lars cuts himself off. His voice is thick, he’s pretty sure he’s going to cry and he really doesn’t want to but he can’t help it. He’s been holding this in for so long, and he doesn’t think he can do it anymore. All that emotional distress and frustration has built up, ready to explode.

Oh.

James is silent for a moment, as he processes everything, and it becomes apparent—Lars is crying. Something in James’ chest clenches, and he tightens his grip, pulling his best friend into his lap like a small child.

He holds Lars against him, and feels the Dane shake as he holds back from really letting go. “It’s okay, it’s okay.” James soothes in a comforting voice, pulling him against his chest, rubbing small circles on his back and running his fingers through the younger’s hair.

“I’m glad you’re still here.”

These words are enough to push Lars over the edge, and he buries his face in James’ chest, letting the first few sobs come out. It takes a moment for him to gain enough control to speak, and when he does, his voice is hoarse, thick. “I miss him so much. He should be here.”

Hearing these words makes James clutch Lars tighter, and his heart aches. “I know, I know. So do I, Lars. I miss him all the time, but he’d want you here. I need you here.” He’s practically cradling the younger man in his arms now, murmuring quietly, trying to soothe him.

Another sob wracks through Lars, and he’s clutching onto James’ shirt, still burying his face in his chest, in an attempt to shield himself from the world. He doesn’t care if he’s acting like a child right now, he needs this comfort and he needs James’ comfort, and god, he just misses Cliff so much.

He just keeps holding Lars, rubbing his back and murmuring words of support—even though it hurts. James misses their bassist as much as Lars does, but for him to see his friend so broken just breaks his heart. “I know, I know. I want him back too. I would switch places with him in a heartbeat, if I could.”

And there it is again. The ‘I would switch places’. It makes something snap in Lars, and he looks up at James, eyes red and face stained with tears. “Why don’t you?!” He pulls away from James’ shirt, his eyes red and puffy. His head is still resting against the younger man’s chest, and he lets out a shaky breath, dragging his hands over his face. 

“I’m sorry.”

James is taken aback by the sudden outburst, and he furrows his eyebrows in confusion. “Why don’t I what..?” He says, tilting his head and studying Lars’s face. “You don’t have to apologise, man. It’s okay. You’re not yourself right now.” James gently wipes a tear on the side of Lars’ face. Just seeing his normally cheerful, happy-go-lucky friend like this feels so wrong.

James’ hand lingers on his cheek, and Lars closes his reddened eyes, leaning into his touch. He hates this. Hates that Cliff is gone. Hates that people think he should’ve been the one to go. And hates that because of this James is stuck having to comfort him. 

He lets out another shaky breath, opening his eyes again and looking up at James—and there’s a vulnerability in his eyes that’s rare coming from Lars. He never lets himself be this vulnerable, always keeping up the tough image, but he’s tired. He’s tired of keeping it all inside. And he wants to lash out, and scream and yell; that none of them should have gone, not Cliff, not any of them. But the expression on James’ face causes his heart to pang, and he looks away as fresh tears fall from his eyes.

James’ heart clenches again, and he gently grabs Lars’ chin, tilting his head so the Dane’s eyes are focused on him again. “Listen to me. Okay? I know you’re upset. I know.” James says, softly but firmly. “Don’t say that bullshit that you should’ve died instead, because that’s bullshit and you know it. Cliff loved you. We all do. We need you here. I need you here.”

“But everyone thinks, they all say that they wished I—“

James immediately cuts off Lars, his grip on his chin tightening ever so slightly. “I don’t want to hear that. That’s all lies and bullshit. Okay? You’re here, alive and kicking. And you’ll stay that way.”

Lars lets out a soft whimper, and James’ eyes soften as his friend tries to hold back another sob. The guitarist pulls the younger man closer to him, one of his hands coming up to gently card through the younger man’s hair. “I would never wish you’d died, okay? I wish none of this ever happened, but I wouldn’t change the fact that you’re alive. That you’re here with me right now, in my arms. Okay?”

Lars lets out a shaky breath, trying to focus on the soothing hand running through his hair. He hates this. He never cries, he’s not an emotional person, and yet here he is, breaking down in the arms of his best friend. 

A long moment of silence passes, all that can be heard in the room Lars’ shaky breathing and occasional sniffle. Then..

“Can you just stay with me?”

James immediately nods, tightening his grip on Lars. “Of course. I’m staying right here with you. I’m not going anywhere until you tell me to.” He moves to lay down on the bed, pulling Lars down with him, and gently guides the other man’s head to lay on his chest.

Lars lets out a soft sigh, burying his face in James’ chest once more, and lets his eyes flutter close. The sound of James’ heartbeat is oddly comforting, and slowly the tension seems to melt out of his shoulders. “Don’t go.” He mumbles, his voice thick with tears.

“I’m not going anywhere.” James soothes gently, his hand moving to rest on the small of Lars’ back as he lets the other man bury his face in his chest. He rests his chin on the top of Lars’ head, and lets his mind wander to Cliff. He doesn’t doubt for a second that the bassist is probably laughing at them from the afterlife.

A soft, almost inaudible scoff of a chuckle comes from Lars at that thought, the first sign of emotion other than despair and misery. He can hear the smile in James’ voice, and he focuses on the sound of the other man’s steady heartbeat, using it to keep himself somewhat grounded. For a few moments, the only sounds are the faint voices of Jason and Kirk, as well as the ever soft thudding of James’ heart.

“Hey…what do you think Kirk and…the new kid are doing?”

A small chuckle comes from James, as he continues combing his fingers through Lars’ hair. “Probably plotting another prank. He’s been causing nothing but trouble since we picked the new kid up. I swear, they share a brain cell.”

Lars lets out another small scoff, shifting his head on James’ chest, closing his eyes. It’s moments like this where he wishes he could stay forever, wrapped up in the embrace of the older man’s arm, listening to the thrumming, comforting sound of his heartbeat. 

For the first time in a long while, Lars feels…safe. Protected. Which is ironic, considering it’s James he’s curled up against.

James doesn’t say anything, just continues combing his fingers through the younger man’s hair, the other resting on the small of his back. He can feel as Lars relaxes against him, becoming fully pliant as he just…lays there in his arms. James’ mind drifts to the days when it would’ve been Cliff in his arms instead, and he closes his own eyes, swallowing around the lump that’s formed in his throat.

Lars slowly lets his eyes close, and he focuses in on the soft thudding of James’ heartbeat. In the comfortable silence, the soft thumping is nearly a lullaby to Lars as he feels his eyes grow heavy—and he can’t remember the last time he’s felt this relaxed. He feels as the guitarist’s fingers move through his hair, the light touch like a gentle caress.

He hasn’t felt this peaceful in months. It’s almost enough for him to forget about the grief, about Cliff.

As sleep claims him, tugging his eyelids lower and lower with each slow blink, everything becomes white noise around him.

For a while he can only stare down at the younger man in his arms, his chest tightening. As it normally does when he sees Lars. 

Lars drifts off into sleep, the rise and fall of the younger man’s chest against his own is oddly soothing to James. The tension in his shoulders slowly starts to melt out, replaced by a warm, calming comfort. He lets out a sigh, looking down at Lars. The guy is a handful to deal with, but god knows he loves the little bastard.

James waits another minute, just to make sure the younger man is fully passed out, before speaking in a soft voice. “I miss you, Cliff.”

And it’s as if he’s expecting a response, even a half-assed one. But of course the silence hangs thick in the air, an uncomfortable, suffocating blanket over him. Despite this, James continues. 

“I know you’re probably over there, laughing at us. Making fun of us.”

Cliff would have found all of this downright hysterical.

He can easily imagine the older man’s response if he was there. Are you two cuddling without me? I’m hurt.

The thought brings a soft, sad smile to his lips. He misses the bassist. He misses his best friend. 

The silence that follows, save from Lars’ soft breathing and the faint voices of Kirk and Jason downstairs, seems to confirm that he’s alone.

But James drifts off to dreamland, he swears he can hear a whisper right by his ear, just faintly, almost as if it’s a memory long forgotten. Cliff’s voice, gentle as the breeze, a caress against his cheek lighter than a feather.

I know.

And maybe, just maybe, everything might be alright.

i WILL get him pregnant mark my words

I’ve been so busy brah I’ve neglected this account💔 I’m sorry chat I promise I’ll post real soon

Jason☹️ JASSSONNNN☹️☹️😭😭☹️ jason.. jassson.. ja… jaasson….jason… Jasoooonnn.. JASON☹️☹️☹️☹️☹️☹️☹️☹️ JAAAAAASOOOONNH☹️☹️☹️☹️😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭☹️

𝐋𝐔𝐒𝐓 𝐀𝐓 𝐅𝐈𝐑𝐒𝐓 𝐁𝐈𝐓𝐄

𝐊𝐈𝐑𝐊/𝐉𝐀𝐒𝐎𝐍

warnings: psychological torment, non-consensual biting (at first), slight blood kink, begging, anal fingering, rimming, anal sex, unprotected sex, creampie, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, graveyard sex, sex on top of a literal grave but it’s okay cus it’s Kirk’s

Happy Halloween! I tried my hand at writing about (Jason) being scared, and there are first times for everything :)) anyways enjoy! (What I mean by crypt btw)

word count: 7.4K words (you were warned)

nsfw under the cut :)

Halloween. Kirk’s favourite holiday, where he could go out and mingle at parties without having to obscure his vampirism. He was starving, aching for fresh meat to sink his fangs into. The party he attended this year was wonderful—so many lovely choices of men and women, all dressed to the nines.

He scans the room, red eyes settling on the forms of Lars and James, dressed as a mummy and a shitty werewolf respectively. His friends spot him too and beckon him over. 

“Settling on the vampire look again?” Teases Lars.

Kirk rolls his eyes, adjusting his hair to stay out of his face. 

“And you’re a goddamn Mummy,” he retorts, shaking his head. “You two look like shitty actors from one cheap horror movie.”

Lars laughs and pats Kirk’s shoulder.

“At least we try something new,” he says cheerfully. “You wear the same thing every year and you’re only in disguise because you don’t want people to know you’re a blood-sucking monster.”

“And your costume is what exactly?” Kirk shoots back, not amused. “You look like a dollar-store bandage come to life. Not very scary.”

James snickered and leaned against the wall.

“You both look ridiculous, alright? But it’s a good night for hunting,” he says with a grin, a sly look on his face. “A lot of people here look very…tasty.”

Kirk smirks and looks around the gathering, taking note of some of the more delectable candidates. His gaze lands on a beautiful young man, standing by himself and looking rather lost. 

“Yeah…I guess there are a few options,” he muses, licking his lips absently. “I might go over and introduce myself to the pretty one over there.” James whines. “I was gonna go for him.”

Kirk snorts and shakes his head.

“You? You wouldn’t know what to do with him. He looks like the kind of man who’s sweet, polite, innocent. You’d scare him away with one dumb sentence, you big brute.”

James laughs at that. “And you’re going to be the charming prince swooping in to save the poor, innocent damsel?” Kirk rolls his eyes and grins arrogantly. “Of course. I’m far too charismatic to drive him away. I’ll charm the pants right off him.”

James snickers and pats his shoulder. “Well, alright. He’s all yours then. Try not to drain him fully when you finally sink your fangs into his pretty neck.” 

Kirk rolls his eyes and straightens his getup, adjusting the velvet cape around his shoulders so it drapes well down his back. “Yeah, yeah. I’ll be back in a bit. Or not.”

Kirk eyes the man—dressed as an angel, a reflection of the characteristic innocence of the holy beings in those baby blue eyes. He can’t hold himself back—he has to have him. 

As he approaches, it’s like the angel senses his presence immediately, those stunning blues locking with his dark ruby eyes. A faint blush rises on the angel’s cheeks, lips curving faintly into a shy smile. 

Kirk can’t help but notice how he’s almost trembling faintly in his pristine white outfit. He’s like a porcelain doll, so delicate, so sweet, so innocent.

Perfect prey.

His figure is sleek and lean, akin to a dancer, and he moves with a certain grace that has the vampire captivated. He’s only slightly taller than Kirk, and he’s got tufts of auburn curls messily resting on his shoulders, flowing down his back. Kinky bangs frame his captivating eyes, and the fake halo that sits amongst his curls is a shiny white. 

He’s like walking, talking temptation, and Kirk can’t stop staring. He’s so damn beautiful, his scent so very appetizing. He feels the hunger in his chest burning, but he controls it and smiles charmingly instead. 

“Hi there,” he greets the boy, his eyes wandering over the tight, silk material of his white robe, two small slits on either side of his legs for more leeway. His top is more snug, a sleeveless silk top with a banded collar and some little gold accessories to match.

The whole costume looks expensive, or took a lot of time to make at the very least. “Hi.” The man responds, friendliness clear through his toothy grin, a beer in hand.

Kirk can’t help but stare for a beat longer, taking in the pretty smile, the beautiful gleam of those eyes…and the delicate, elegant long lines of his neck. 

So slender, so inviting. 

Almost as if sensing the thought, the angel tucks his chin down, hiding his neck ever so slightly, as though shy. It’s an utterly charming gesture that only serves to fan the flames of Kirk’s desire. He swallows, snapping himself out of his thoughts and grins. 

“So, enjoying the party?”

“It’s nice…though I’m looking for my friend. He’s supposed to be here.”Kirk tilts his head to one side. “Is that so?” He asks, feigning mild interest. 

“What’s his costume?”

“He’s a ghost.”

“A ghost, huh?” 

Kirk’s eyes twinkle a bit with a hint of mischief. “And where exactly is this friend of yours? Off haunting the punch table or something?”

“Beats me.” 

The man’s phone dings, and Kirk can’t help but watch how his bangs frame his face when he cants his head. 

“Oh. My friend couldn’t make it. Great, now I’m stuck here alone.” He sounds less than thrilled, probably after having to go to such lengths to make his costume. 

“What a waste of a night.”

When the beautiful creature pouts, Kirk’s mouth dries up instantly. Christ, he’s adorable. “Hey, there’s no need to look so disappointed…” He says with a coy tone of voice, taking a few steps closer to the angel. 

“I could take you out somewhere else…” He offers tentatively. Jason’s interest piques, and he tilts his head to the side. “Like where?”

Kirk grins and takes one more step, their chests almost flush together. “The night is still young,” he purrs. “There’s so many more exciting places to go to before closing time…unless you’d rather stay at this boring party, of course.”

Jason thinks for a moment, considering his options. And his cerulean eyes lock with crimson ones, his resolve determined. 

“Where to?”

Kirk can’t help the shiver of excitement that runs down his spine. He grins, fangs gleaming in the faint light. This beautiful, sweet, gullible man was willingly walking into the jaws of a beast—a predator. 

“Follow me,” he says, almost huskily. “I know a spot.”

Jason’s holding onto Kirk’s arm as they creep through the graveyard. Kirk’s all too familiar with the place, but Jason’s like a scared little mouse.

“Are you scared?” 

Kirk purrs, a smug note audible in his tone. He can hear the rapid beating of Jason’s heart, the way his breath comes quick and shallow with nerves as they walk through the dark, silent graveyard.

“A little…” He gulps, glancing around in case anything were to jump out at them. Angels were supposed to be beacons of fearlessness, and here Jason was, shaking like a leaf, clinging to Kirk like his life depended on it.

Kirk bites his lip, holding back a chuckle. The angel was absolutely adorable when he was nervous like this. It made him seem so small and fragile, almost like a little puppy. 

“There’s nothing to be scared of,” he assures, resting a hand on Jason’s lower back and rubbing it in a comforting gesture. “You’re safe with me.”

Jason glances down in surprise when he steps on a twig, his halo falling to the ground. He lets go of the ravenette’s arm to pick it up, and when he stands back up after readjusting its position on his head, he finds himself alone. 

He glanced around once, twice, thrice, and Kirk has vanished. Fear spikes through his heart like thorns, and his big doe eyes are wide in fear. 

“Kirk?” He asks, voice so shaky, fear rolling off him in waves.

Jason’s all alone in this creepy graveyard in the middle of god knows where, it’s coming close to midnight, and he swears he’s not alone. 

Fear gripes his heart like a vice, panic settling in as he swerves left and right to try and catch a glimpse of the man. He takes a few steps forward, oh-so paranoid, watching the tombstones and the shrubbery and the forest nearby. He might just believe in the supernatural now.

“Kirk!?” 

Jason calls again, panic rising. He can feel himself trembling from fear, the silence around him suddenly deafening. “Where are you?” 

He scans the area around him, looking for clues of Kirk’s whereabouts. His heart is beating out of his chest, his muscles taut with tension as he takes a few halting steps forward, almost afraid of what he might stumble upon.

Nothing. 

Not a sound, not a glimpse of that dark hair or sharp smile, or even the flicker of that velvet cape. He’s well and truly alone now, a sitting duck in the middle of this dark and seemingly haunted place.

“Kirk..?” 

He says weakly, no conviction left in his voice. His breaths come in short puffs, vision going slightly hazy from fright.

He glances to his right at the sound of a twig snapping, whipping his head around and finding….nothing. Not a single soul. 

“Who’s there…?” 

Jason asks shakily, looking around in a frenzy for the source of the sound. His heart is beating madly out of his chest, panic clawing his throat with icy fingers.

The fright is swallowing him whole, and he can hear another twig snap closer to him, only a few feet behind him. He spins around—nothing. So he does the only thing he knows how to do. 

Run.

He takes off running with sheer panic, heart in his throat. He can’t bring himself to look back, can’t hear anything over the loud beating of his own heart and the rush of adrenaline. His mind is empty, focused only on the single goal of getting away from whoever or whatever is behind him.

He doesn’t know where he’s going, can’t see clearly in front of him, and stumbles over the uneven ground numerous times, twigs and leaves grasping at his ankles in his hurry. Adrenaline is roaring in his ears, fear driving his legs and fuelling his panic.

There’s a faint voice in the back of his mind, screaming at him to slow down before he falls and breaks his ankle—but it’s soon drowned out by the fear of being hunted or chased down. 

His breaths are harsh and ragged, lungs screaming and muscles aching with the effort to run, panic driving him on. 

He can hear footsteps behind him, heavy and loud and gaining on him fast. He can’t even see what’s after him now—his vision swimming and chest clenching from fright.

He’s in hysterics, tears muddling his vision and his breathing is erratic—his lungs burn and so do his calves, but he keeps on running. The graveyard is a maze, and he can’t seem to find the exit.

And then he falls. 

His foot tangles up with a root sticking out of the ground, and he’s sent careening to the grass. Pain blooms in his ankle at the impact, sharp and sudden, and he can’t supress a cry of pain. He tries to scrabble and crawl away as he hears those footsteps coming close—almost upon him. 

He drags himself behind a large oak tree and muffled his breathing. The footsteps stop, and they sound confused…where did he go? 

The footsteps finally fade into the night after moving around a little more, and Jason breathed the tiniest sigh of relief. He peeks out from behind the tree to catch a glimpse of whatever had been chasing him. 

Still, nothing.

Just when he thinks he’s safe, there’s an overwhelming aura emanating from behind him. His breath catches in his throat, and he’s far too scared to even turn around. He’s cornered like a dog, and he musters the courage to look behind him.

But before he can do so, a strong hand wraps around his shoulders, pulling him back against someone’s chest. Jason’s wracked with sobs. He thinks it’s all over for him, this is how he’ll die. 

“Found you.”

Kirk does feel a pang of guilt at the sight of Jason like this—scared and crying and looking at him like he’s the devil himself. But he’s starved and he’s owed a meal, but not before playing with his food a little.

Of course, this is all part of his game. He needs to get the boy scared, get his blood pumping, and draw out that sweet fear pheromone. God, he's even more beautiful when he's so utterly petrified. Still, he has to admit to himself there’s something about the angelic boy’s frazzled and hysteric state that twists something in his chest slightly. God, he's even more beautiful when he's so utterly petrified.

Jason goes completely still when he feels the arm around him, tears streaming down his face as terror seeps through his very core. He’s trembling like a leaf even as he tries to keep quiet, scared of what will happen next. 

He swallows back a sob, trying to get his breathing under control. “Please…please don’t hurt me…” He whispers out brokenly, looking up at Kirk desperately, begging for his life. 

And he looks so, so beautiful in the dim light of the night, tears marring his soft features and eyes wide like a doe’s.

Kirk almost feels bad for having to scare him so badly, but he's also starving, and the fear makes his blood pump faster and his sweet scent even more potent. It makes his fangs ache in his jaws, and it's taking all his willpower not to sink them deep into that slender, smooth neck. 

His eyes gleam sadistically, leaning down so close that his lips brush over the shell of Jason’s ear. Jason’s chest heaves, his eyes sparkling under the moonlight. His gasps stutters and his breath shudders.

Jason’s body is rigid, frozen in fear as he feels the vampire breathing in his scent, that hand on his neck doing little to quell the panic that’s coursing through him. His lips are trembling, and a wave of dread courses through him. This is it. This is the end. 

“Please, please don’t hurt me…” He whispers pleadingly, a new wave of tears leaking from his eyes.

Kirk feels a pang of guilt again, but it’s quickly overridden by hunger and need. He grins and runs the tip of his nose over the pale, slender column of Jason’s neck, breathing him in greedily. He can feel the rapid beat of his pulse as he nuzzles over the skin on his neck, just shy of touching the sensitive skin with his mouth. 

He can feel the fear coming off Jason in waves, the scent of it strong enough to leave him heady and almost drunk.

Jason’s breaths are coming in short, sharp gasps, every exhale a small whimper of fear. He can feel the press of that mouth on his skin, feel the hot wet puff of breath tickling his collarbones, and he can’t stop the tears from streaming down his face. 

“I-I’ll do anything…please—whatever you want. Just don’t hurt me. Please.” He whimpers out, tears running freely down his face. It’s so pathetically arousing to Kirk.

Kirk feels it as a shiver runs through Jason’s entire body with that utterance, and it causes a jolt of excitement and arousal through him, too. The sheer begging and pleading would’ve been enough to get him all hot and bothered alone, but the fear pheromone emanating from those words, mixed with the tears on that smooth, porcelain face, was like an electric shock to his body. 

He groans softly, unable to hold back the sound.

Jason can hear the groaned out sound from the vampire as well as feel his breath on his neck, his entire body trembling in fear, pulse racing. He closes his eyes, almost praying to whatever god is out there that he’ll get out of this alive somehow. 

He can’t stop the tremors, can’t stop the tears, and he can’t help the pitiful whimpers that escape him as he continues to cry. He knows he looks a mess right now—terrified, pathetic, hysterical…

It’s taking all of Kirk’s restraint to hold himself back. The tears, the smell, the whimpers—he’s holding back the animalistic instincts within himself in a battle of restraint. He’s not going to pounce on the beautiful boy here and now—he’s going to drag this out a bit more. 

He can’t help the way he nuzzles his face into the crook of Jason’s neck, letting out a shaky breath at how close he is to tasting this angelic creature. As much as he’d like to take him right there and then, it would be more enjoyable if Jason could derive pleasure from this too.

Jason can feel everything—the press of that mouth on his neck, the cool breath of the vampire on his heated skin, the heat from that body pressed flush against his back. And then, suddenly, he feels a sensation that makes his brain come to a screeching halt. 

He can feel the vampire’s tongue licking a slow stripe over his neck. He freezes instantly, heart in his throat, body trembling.

Jason’s reaction to that one gesture is the final nail in the coffin. 

Kirk’s restraint snaps, the desire and hunger becoming too strong to hold back. His breathing huffs out in ragged gasps, and he pushes the boy’s head to the side with his nose, baring that lovely neck even more. 

He lets his lips finally press down over the soft, sensitive skin of his neck, mouthing over it eagerly.

Jason groans, and Kirk’s free hand slides down his body, sensing his now growing arousal, and holding onto his hip with a firm grip.

Meanwhile, the angel is having a terrible time with his unwarranted arousal, how could he be getting hard when there’s someone, something, that could kill him any time?

That faint sound of pleasure from Jason sends a jolt of heat through Kirk’s body. So, the boy does want this. Interesting. He grins against the crook of his neck at the Kirk is absolutely addicted to the sounds the boy makes. 

He can’t stop himself from touching as much of that lovely skin as possible, his touches gentle as his fingers slide up the inside of Jason’s thigh. 

Kirk nips at the angel’s ear, licking softly at the skin. He can also feel his own arousal growng, pressed against the red-head’s thigh as he continues to lick and mouth at Jason’s neck. He can’t stop the soft guttural growl that comes from the back of his throat.

Jason can feel it too, digging into his leg so shamelessly. And as much as he wishes he wasn’t, his briefs started feeling tighter. This was the worst—getting hard by someone you don’t even know, in a situation that meant life or death.

He can both feel and hear the whimper that leaves Jason’s lips as he realises the boy’s growing arousal as well, and it makes his grin grow even wider. The whimper also causes him to give a hard press of his hips against the thigh, the friction making him shiver a little. 

His tongue continues to lap and lick along the sensitive skin of his neck, before he nips the skin gently, fangs just barely scraping over the surface of it.

By now, Jason’s well aware the person behind him has some sort of fangs, so it’s some sort of unnatural humanoid creature that’s marking up his neck like a lover.

Jason’s neck is absolutely bruised from the vampire’s lips and teeth, marked so pretty that there’s no doubt of what caused it. Kirk continues to mouths along his neck, moving up and biting at the skin just below the ear. The hand on the angel’s hip slides down further, the other still gripping firmly at his throat.

“You taste so good, pretty boy…” 

Kirk speaks against the skin of his neck, lips moving back and forth over the flesh. His tongue occasionally laps over the surface to gather more of that sweet taste. He loves those whimpers and soft gasps the boy’s letting out and the way he’s pushing back against him ever so slightly. 

His tongue and lips slowly move up towards the boy’s ear and he grins. 

“Just wait till I taste you elsewhere….”

A jolt of arousal runs up Jason’s spine, his cheeks flushing. Kirk thinks it’s divine intervention that Jason doesn’t recognise his voice, but then again, they’d only met that night. 

Despite the unfamiliarity, the reactions he’s getting from the angel is making it more fun by the second. The flushes across his face that he can’t tell apart from the fear, those delicious whimpers and gasps, and the hardening of his arousal against his own body. 

He decides he wants more of these reactions, so that’s where he’s going next. 

His hand on the boy’s neck slides down, fingers skimming along the buttons of his shirt and popping them open slowly, down until his sternum.

Jason shivers—this predicament he’s in is surprising, but he only wished that it wasn’t some creature that wished to fuck him.

More and more of the angel’s skin is revealed as Kirk pushes the fabric of the shirt to the side, exposing those lovely collarbones, those soft and smooth shoulders, the skin that he could just devour. 

His lips and tongue are all over that skin now, leaving behind a trail of bruising kisses and faint marks of his teeth, moving and sucking up to the boy’s ear. 

“You’re gorgeous…” He murmurs hotly, breath tickling the skin of the boy’s ear. He spots his own single crypt nearby—black delight violas pooling around the base. His plan is simple: to have Jason on top of his own coffin, on the sleek greyed marble, untarnished through the years.

He slowly maneuvers Jason back towards his own crypt, mouth continuing to bruise up the skin beneath his lips, leaving behind a pretty trail of marks that’s almost hypnotising to himself. 

His nose nudges the boy’s head to the side, exposing the crook of his neck, and Kirk can’t help it. He needs to taste this sweet skin once again, needs to taste the blood pumping right underneath the surface. 

That neck is exposed so willingly now, and Kirk runs his lips and tongue right over it again.

Jason is flipped around to face him—and the angel expects to see some horrible, ugly creature of the night, but is met by a familiar face buried in his neck…

“Kirk?”

Kirk lifts his head from Jason’s neck at that sound. He’s surprised that the boy hadn’t recognised him already.

“You…I thought you…” He’s speechless. He doesn’t know what to say. Was he supposed to be mad? That Kirk had left him and chased him around and held him hostage like it was some funny little game? Or was he supposed to be even more aroused, that the pretty Californian man had hunted him down like he was some sort of rabbit and marked him up like he owned him?

Kirk can see and hear the conflicting thoughts running through that pretty head. He can smell the confusion in the pheromones that are still being released from his body—arousal, confusion, a little bit of hurt. 

He grins at the sight, a mix of amusement and hunger, feeling a dark thrill at the way Jason looks right now beneath him. He can’t decide if it’s adorable or arousing that the boy is so confused, so conflicted. 

He’s holding Jason prisoner, pinning his slender body against the thick marbled gravestone of his very own resting place…

Kirk presses forward some more. He’s leaning forward, keeping that body pinned against the marble, watching the way Jason looks back up at him with wide eyes, full lips parted. 

“You look so beautiful like this….” He murmurs lowly, eyes running all over the slender figure, taking in every little bit of skin that’s exposed and every little mark he’s left. 

Now, Jason’s sat on the crypt, Kirk standing as he mouths desperately at his neck, tracing his lifeline with his tongue. Jason’s robes are hiked up for his legs to have more room to move, pooling around the marble like a veil. 

Despite all his questions and all, Jason can’t help but let Kirk do what he wants, clutching his costume as he groans softly, eyes screwed shut. Kirk’s free hand moves lower, under Jason’s robes to trace his thigh.

Jason’s skin is so smooth under his fingers that it has him shivering, and when that lovely moan comes out, he almost buckles at the knees. He’s never heard anything so sweet. He continues to run his tongue and lips along the boy’s neck, sucking harshly at the skin occasionally to leave behind marks of his own. His other hand is on his pale thigh, running up and down that bare skin.

Jason’s skin is addictive to the touch. It’s so soft and smooth, like supple porcelain, and Kirk absolutely craves more of it, just to explore, to devour, to claim. 

He nips at that delicious neck again, sucking at the skin roughly, and he can feel the moan of pleasure that vibrates through Jason’s body. His teeth graze over the bruised skin, just a hint of fangs in the gesture.

Then, as quick as lightning, he sinks his teeth into Jason’s jugular, and those ice blue eyes fly open. A pained cry escapes his lips, and his neck throbs. He claws at Kirk’s clothes, the sharp pain almost numbing.

When the blood hits his tongue, it’s absolutely heavenly. It’s a rush of pleasure and ecstasy and sweetness that floods through his veins, leaving him euphoric. He could get very used to how this boy tastes, how he feels and sounds and smells. He grips Jason’s thighs, keeping them open and spread to fit him between, taking more and more of the blood from his neck.

“Stop—what the hell-!” Jason tries to pull Kirk off, eyes wide in fear and betrayal. 

There is no stopping now. Jason can only watch as Kirk continues to drink and feed from his neck. But he can sense the panic and the fear and betrayal rising in Jason, and a small part of him does feel guilty for not telling the boy the truth, for leaving him in the dark like this. 

So he pulls back reluctantly, licking over the wound he’s made.

Jason’s staring at him like he’s a serial killer drenched in gore, and he feels the puncture wounds in his neck with horror. 

“You—”

The look in Jason’s eyes makes something in Kirk twinge. Those beautiful pools of blue staring at him like he’s some kind of monster. 

He is a monster, isn’t he? 

He stares back, watching those eyes widen even more at the dark stains of red on his lips and the fangs that are visible.

His breath shudders, and Jason curses himself for being so naive—who goes to a graveyard with a person they’d only met that night? 

“You’re a vampire!”

He can see the horror, the fear, and the realization in Jason’s eyes. It makes some part of him cringe, knowing this is not how he would have wanted the night to end. But there’s no denying the truth anymore, so he nods, a soft exhale escaping him. 

“…I am.” He replies quietly. Of course he is. 

He’s still standing between Jason’s legs, hands resting on the tops of his thighs, pinning him to the smooth, grey, polished surface of his resting place.

“You bit me!”

It’s a simple statement. He did bite him. 

His lips are still tinged a deep red from the boy’s blood, and there’s small drops of the liquid in the corners of his mouth. He stares back at Jason, guilt settling like ash in his lungs. 

“I did.”

“I’m going to die!” He shrieks, and Kirk thinks he’s louder than the banshees that used to be his neighbours.

There it is. The panic and the panic-induced hysterics. Jason’s going to think he’ll die and then go on a rampage. 

“No—No! You’re not going to die—I only drank a little…and besides, I’d never kill you.” Kirk reassured, and Jason can tell Kirk’s panicking a little too.

“Relax…I only drank some. You won’t die, I won’t let you. I’d never kill you…I only drink from people every once in a while, usually when I’m hungry, but you, you just taste so damn good…I couldn’t resist. But you’re fine, you’re not dead, you’re going to be okay, I’m telling you..” 

He’s rambling by now, desperately trying to keep Jason’s attention and calm him down, hands gripping at his thighs soothingly.

“You’re a vampire—you’ll drink me dry and-and leave my body here!” Jason’s making up scenarios in his mind, which in turn make him even more panicked and scared. And now the boy’s even making up scenarios in his mind. Kirk frowns, knowing it’s only making this situation even more difficult. 

So he does the only thing he really wants to do at that moment. 

Their mouths clash together, Jason’s own blood filling his mouth, coppery and tangy. Kirk is desperate, their lips moving together in a heated, passionate manner.

Jason stares at him, taken aback, but Kirk’s so tender and gentle that he almost wants to believe him. If Kirk wanted to drain him, he would’ve done so by now, right?

Kirk pulls back, leaving Jason breathless and wide-eyed and confused once again, and he leans his head forward until their foreheads are pressed together, his hands still holding softly onto the boy’s shoulders.

He can’t help the desperate plea that leaves his lips. “Please…trust me. I won’t kill you, or drain you, or anything of the sort. I swear. All I did was drink a few drops….”

Jason hesitates. He seems so genuine, and those wine red eyes look up at him pleadingly, like he was an innocent creature that just wanted a meal. Kirk can see the hesitance in Jason’s eyes, but at least there’s something other than fear in them. He gently touches the underside of the boy’s jaw, tilting his head to the side so more of that lovely neck is exposed to him once again. 

“I swear, I won’t kill you.” He repeats in that same pleading voice, hands gripping slightly tighter at his shoulders. He doesn’t want to accidentally bruise those beautiful shoulders. “I’d rather do something else to you, anyway..”

Heat floods Jason’s cheeks at the admission, and without prompt, Kirk leans in close, a hand sneaking up Jason’s thigh, creeping past his briefs. Cold hands cup Jason’s growing erection, a shudder running up the angel’s spine, a soft gasp escaping his lips. 

Having a literal vampire fondle him shouldn’t make him this aroused, but somehow it does. He’s not quite sure if it’s the fact that Kirk could kill him any second if he wanted to, or that he chooses not to, that has him so turned on.

Kirk is absolutely addicted to the sounds Jason makes. He nips at the boy’s ear, licking softly at the skin before speaking in a soft and pleading voice. 

“I want you so bad, baby…” His voice is low, breathing in Jason’s scent and licking up the blood trickling out from his wound. 

Kirk’s hand slides under Jason’s underwear to stroke softly at his hardened cock, marveling at how big it is. Jason stifles a moan, holding onto the lapels of Kirk’s cloak. He gazed at the human adoringly, like he was a prized painting in an art gallery.

He frees Jason’s shaft from its confines, shoving his robes up to gather around his hips. The vampire spat into his hand and pumped the angel’s cock with fervour, drawing a sigh from Jason. Precome pearls at his tip, leaking down the underside of his engorged dick, further helping Kirk’s hand slide up and down even faster. 

“Fuck—like that…please..” He murmurs, resting his forehead on Kirk’s shoulder, fingers digging into his cloak. Kirk’s hand moves quick, Jason’s mind spins in pleasure from the pace, praises spilling from his lips like holy words.

Leaning onto Kirk as his toes curl, Jason whimpers incessantly, quivering in the ravenette’s hand. He can feel himself drawing close, balls growing tight as his climax builds. 

He’s so, so close, and just as he’s about to hit his release, Kirk pulls away with a sly grin, leaving him high and dry.

“Wait—please..don’t stop..!” Jason whines into Kirk’s clothes, lifting his head up to meet him. His eyes are glassed over and hazy with pleasure, need welling in his powder-blue orbs. Kirk almost wants to give in, to give Jason exactly what he needs, but he restrains himself.

Instead, he pushes Jason onto his back on the crypt, his legs hanging over the edge. He kneels between his legs and tosses Jason’s briefs to the side mindlessly, focusing on the haven presented to him. 

Teasingly biting and sucking and marking up Jason’s inner thighs, Kirk lets his fangs scrape his thighs, goosebumps trailing up his skin. To his surprise, Jason mutters something so soft, he can barely hear it. 

“Speak up, darlin’, I can’t hear you.” 

“Bite me again. Please.”

He whispered it in such a needy tone, Kirk’s length jumped in his pants, straining against their confines, begging to be free and to have at Jason. He nearly gives in to Jason’s request, yearning to sink his jaws into his lovely pale flesh. 

But he had self-restraint, even in a time like this, and instead nibbles on his skin, leaving little indents of his teeth. That satisfies Jason enough, whining softly, begging for more stimulation. 

Eager to get to work to pleasuring Jason, he grips pale hips and lifts Jason’s pretty little pink pucker to mouth level, resting the crook of his knees on his shoulders. He’s buried between two muscular thighs which are trembling with anticipation, dipping his tongue into that tight wet heat, licking and sucking.

Jason grunts, Kirk’s tongue teasing around the rim, tracing the it with long, flat licks that has his cock leaking down his front. He stares up at the black sky and the stars, and he’s sure if God’s real he’d be looking back down at him disappointedly. Dressed as an angel, getting his ass eaten by a bloodsucking supernatural creature. How shameless he was, in a graveyard, a resting place for the deceased, no less.

And yet, the thrill of it all is intoxicating, getting chased around, bitten and fucking a super hot vampire. Kirk’s tongue dips deep into his hole, and it’s unnaturally long, prodding against a rubbery bump that has him crying out  unintentionally. 

“Shit—oh god..” He breathes, his leg muscles pulling taut as he stiffens in pleasure, thighs clamping around Kirk’s head. He merely hums between Jason’s legs, eating him out like a man starved. 

If this was how he’d die, Jason wouldn’t really mind it. 

The pressure in his belly builds up again, his cock pulsing. Kirk takes notice and somehow manages to speed up his movements, bringing Jason over the edge far sooner than he’d expected. 

Come spurts out of Jason’s throbbing cockhead, dribbling down his chest and dirtying his lovely silks. A skilled hand wraps around his sensitive shaft, milking him while working his fluttering hole. Jason squirms in oversensitivity, spasming around Kirk’s tongue. Cold hands knead the flesh of his ass soothingly, as if trying to ground him.

When every last drop is squeezed from the human, Kirk releases him and rests him back on the smooth marble. Jason’s chest heaves, body still coming down from the aftershocks of his orgasm. 

Kirk climbs onto the sleek crypt, admiring the sight before him. He’s a little distracted for a moment. Jason’s shirt is in disarray, sliding off his shoulders, the first three buttons of the shirt ripped open to expose miles of creamy skin. The pale flesh is littered with a trail of marks from his own lips, bruised and tender looking. His hair is in disarray, and those big doe eyes are staring up at him wide with satisfaction.

He’s absolutely mouthwatering like this.

And soon he’ll have his fill of the man, settling between those pliantly spread legs again. He drags a finger through the puddle of cum on Jason’s abdomen, tracing around his hole. Their eyes meet again, and Kirk’s carry a silent question, to which Jason responds with a bite of his lower lip.

Jason jolts as a long finger slides into his warm walls. It’s been a while since he’d fucked anyone, and it’s obvious to Kirk from how he felt like a vacuum around his finger. Kirk moved to quickly push into Jason’s tight hole, hearing him whine loudly and rock back onto his fingers.

Another finger is slipped in, pumping in and out of Jason, fingers curling and uncurling. His fingers search for Jason’s prostate again, feeling around and spreading his fingers. 

“Another.” Jason croaks out, and Kirk complies, slipping another finger past that tight ring of muscle. He sighs, letting Kirk do the work as his dick worked to half-hardness again, jolting to a near-full erection when Kirk presses down on his g-spot. 

“There?” Kirk asks simply, working his fingers over that spot in a repetitive poking motion. “Right there…” Jason breathes, eyes fluttering shut as pleasure overtakes him.

Once deemed prepared enough, Kirk pulls out his aching shaft and spits in his hand, gobs of salvia mixed with the remnants of Jason’s blood. He jerks himself off a few times, slicking himself up all while making eye contact with Jason.

Jason catches sight of Kirk’s beautifully hung length; the auburnette’s form tremors in anticipation, eager to be stuffed full like it was thanksgiving all over again. “C’mon…don’t make me wait..” He whines, arousal bleeding out into his voice. 

Kirk merely chuckles and aligns himself with Jason, giving one last glance of confirmation. 

“Please.” 

And that was all Kirk needed before he’s pushing the tip of his flush cock into Jason, ramming his whole dick into him without warning. Jason cries out at the sudden intrusion, his legs clamping around Kirk’s hips as if to still himself. 

Kirk is kind enough to let him adjust to his size, and Jason flutters around him to try and accommodate. His cold, clawed hands settle on the warm and soft flesh of Jason’s hips, which are narrow with his ilium jutting out slightly. Kirk admires how sleek the mortal’s figure is, build akin to a dancer’s, and how his crimson blood has dried around those pretty puncture wounds.

Meanwhile, Jason breathes deep. Kirk is a lot to take, and while he prides himself on being more of a size queen, Kirk’s more girthy than his previous hookups. Soon enough, he’s shifting his hips back into Kirk as he seeks more friction. 

This doesn’t go unnoticed by Kirk, who gladly starts to fuck in and out of him at a not-so-slow pace. Nonetheless, Jason’s blinded by ecstasy, his loud cries of satisfaction ringing through the graveyard. Kirk pats himself on the shoulder for finding such a secluded spot—there’s no way he’d be able to keep Jason silent if it were closer to town…

Kirk’s cockhead draws back before snapping back into Jason and ramming against his prostate, drawing choked moans from the latter. “Don’t stop—!” He cries, fingertips digging into Kirk’s shoulders. The bite of his grip only serves to get Kirk further more aroused, rutting into his partner with even more vigour.

Jason doesn’t think he’ll last long at this rate, Kirk’s cold hands roaming the exposed expanse of his body, a cheeky hand tweaking one of his nipples, pulling on it just to hear him whimper. The other moves to circle Jason’s engorged tip, spreading his precome around while dipping his thumb into his slit slightly.

Face burning, he holds onto the edges of the crypt for stability as Kirk ruthlessly pounds into him like he’s got something to prove. It’s so good that it sends shivers up his spine.

If something like this happened every year, Halloween would be his favourite holiday. Not even his birthday would beat getting fucked by a super hot vampire on a tomb in the middle of nowhere.

Kirk’s analysing Jason’s every twitch and facial expression, trying to take note of what he liked and didn’t. Sweat beads on his brow and yet his boundless stamina contributes to his lack of tiredness. 

On one hand, his stamina was perfect for pleasuring people who took a while to come. On the other, it wasn’t as good for individuals like Jason, who’s now come once already, but is still getting fucked at the same pace. 

Overstimulation starts to overtake Jason, his chest heaving as his shaft pathetically spurts any remnants of come left from his orgasm. His hole is still being used like a fucktoy for Kirk’s pleasure, and he just pathetically clenched around him. All he could do is hang on for dear life as Kirk splits him open. 

To Jase, Kirk’s not really close to reaching his climax, focused intently on the sensations of Jason around him as he tips his head forward, raven curls hanging forward, wet with sweat. 

The pleasure now borders on pain as Kirk continues to tease Jason’s energy-drained body, jerking off his dick with a talented hand. Tears spring to his eyes, and he feels sensitive to any little touches, even as he feels his third climax of the night start to build. He bites his lips, hard, eyes screwing shut. 

Jason’s third orgasm hits him hard like a ton of bricks. He whimpers pathetically, squirming in Kirk’s grip as release splatters over his chest like some sort of abstract painting. His chest heaves as he’s now shifting about in Kirk’s grip, trying to find a little relief from the constant assault on his prostate.

Kirk can just about feel his own high coming soon, looking at how messed up Jason was from him certainly brought it much closer. His hands shift to Jason’s hips, bruisingly tight, thrusting into him with reckless abandon, chasing his pleasure down like a hound. 

Weakly, Jason’s fourth orgasm comes around the same time Kirk’s does, splattering over his already ruined silks, even reaching his own chin. Kirk throws his head back, shooting his load deep into the warm confines of Jason. The latter is surprised by how much Kirk came in one go, his own dick twitching and going limp against his come-coated chest.

Jason can feel Kirk’s hot spunk leak out of his throughly loosened hole even while he’s still balls deep in him. Christ, he really was ruined, wasn’t he?

“That was amazing.” Kirk pants, lying next to Jason on his crypt. Jason’s dazed and he barely registers Kirk’s words. “Huh? Oh, yeah. It was…the best sex I’d ever had. What a way to spend Halloween.” He murmurs, glancing at Kirk, his body feeling like lead. Kirk scans his form with a soft smile.

“Let’s get you cleaned up…”

“Y’know we still have some time until the sun comes up.” Kirk grins, fangs gleaming as Jason huffs, blowing a piece of hair from his face. “What, will you burn in the sun or something?” 

Kirk merely laughs, and Jason wouldn’t mind seeing that everyday. “No, not at all. But I’d rather show you my home.” “Better not be a stupid castle or coffin.” 

Kirk rolls his eyes, but what could Jason really expect from a vampire of all things?

“Trust me, it’s a lot nicer than that. Who do you take me for?” “Nosferatu?” Jason offers. Kirk gasps in faux outrage. “Am I that ugly?” He pouts. “Certainly not.” Jason grins up at him, leaning into his cold grasp like it was the warmest place on earth. 

“Just take me to your home and bandage me up. And how do you suppose I hide the bite marks?” He hadn’t really thought of that. Neither of them had.

“Say that killer vampire stole your heart.”

“And my blood?” 

“Sure.”

“…I can work with that.”

𝐉𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐒/𝐉𝐀𝐒𝐎𝐍 - 𝐧𝐞𝐰 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭𝐝𝐨𝐨𝐫 𝐧𝐞𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐫 (𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐟𝐢𝐜)

hi guys I know I haven’t been online much recently (exams💔) but to make it up to you guys this is a series I’m working on rn!! it’s a 3 part series that I plan to finish really soon (within the next week hopefully) and uhh yeah!!

https://archiveofourown.org/works/63466180/chapters/162621559

snippet:

By this time the sun has completely set, leaving the street cast in the soft glow of street lamps. Jason peers through the window, expecting the guy to be gone by now, or at least distracted by something. However, the guy is still standing where he left him, arms folded across his chest with a cigarette between his index and middle finger. He takes a long drag, his eyes on Jason’s window, as if to say ‘I knew you’d be back’. Damn it.

It’s not his fault his studio directly overlooks the man’s house. And it’s also not his fault the guy is too eye-catching to ignore.

Jason swallows. Hard. He can’t look away, and he’s pretty sure if he tried to, he’d just look like a weird, shifty-eyed creep. So he awkwardly locks eyes with the guy across the way, who still has his gaze fixed on his face. The guy’s gaze is strong and unwavering, his ocean-blue eyes locked unwaveringly on Jason. Jason’s heart quickens under this intense gaze. The man, almost as if sensing his rising unease, offers a smile. Charming, almost teasing in the manner.

Fuck, Jason might’ve creamed his pants a little.

Jason swallows again, and to say he was feeling a little self-conscious right now was a huge understatement. This guy was attractive as hell, and the fact that he was standing across from him, arms folded, looking completely at ease, in the dark with only street lamps providing light, wasn’t helping. He looked like some kind of model, or something. Jason was getting a little flustered. His heart is beating a little too fast, now.

Besides that—what was he doing outside? Just smoking?

Jason is pulled out of his thoughts when the guy, without breaking eye contact, brings the cigarette to his lips and takes a long drag. The guy’s eyes flutter shut as he does this, looking completely blissed out for a moment before opening his eyes and exhaling a long puff of smoke. That is unfairly attractive. And it’s unfair to Jason.