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hexgaywire · 11 months

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Request fill for this ask

I simply couldn't just ignore this I eat this stuff up man

Shout out to @mystaposts for Ike's setting idea bc I genuinely got stuck, they are the best!

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Luxiem Boys "S/o getting hit on while being clearly taken"

Ft. Vox, Luca, Shu, Ike, and Mysta

Rating: SFWish, Suggestive

Warnings: mentions of alcohol, mentions of pda, mentions of marking, violence (with a happy ending), mentions of weapons, being in uncomfortable situations, general possessiveness

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Your out at a fairly nice club with Vox for date night. Normally he'd splurge for a vip booth for the two of you but tonight you really just wanted to dance your heart out. Leaving vox at the bar, a few fruity cocktails in you head to your target. The dj was playing all the right stuff and you sway your body to the music. You turn to vox flashing him the biggest smile from across the dancefloor and you can tell he's enjoying himself as well.

You dance by yourself for a bit eventually doing what drunk people do best making friends with the drunk girl group dancing next to you and you all dance together. Then the next trun of events happen that typically happen whena lone group is minding there own business. A group of guy's approach trying to dance up on y'all. You visible tense for a moment. Scooting away from the taller figure, who wasn't your partner, trying to grab your waist.

You flash another look, this time a more desperate one, to Vox at the bar who is seething. You can tell by his posture and the way his eyes darken, locked in on the stranger dancing on you. You lean in as a courtesy to warn the stranger for what's about to come. You shout over the loud music. "Hey man, my boyfriend is over the bar glaring at you right now. I'm gunna be honest I'm just here to dance so if you'd kindl-" the asshole cuts you off. "Honestly a pretty thing like you should be alone on the dance floor. He whisper shouts in your ear in the least sexy way possible.

You sigh and look over your shoulder to Vox again who is already making his way toward you. You can feel the anger radiating off him and into the crowd. He reaches you and possessively wraps his arms around you. "Hey babe." He smiles and looks up at the jerk with a shit eating grin on his face. "I was just talking about you." You smile as he places kisses all over the top of your head, while you back is pressed against his front swaying with you to the music.

The guy from earlier audible scoffs and walks away at the pda happening in front of him. "Easy enough, I was 2 seconds away from punching him square in the jaw I swear." Vox mumbles in your ear, sending shivers down your spin. "I've seen you possessive before, but this is a whole new level Vox." You smile. "I'm sorry... I just couldn't watch some guy grind up on you while I just fucking sat there." He mumbles pulling you to face him.

He places a possessive kiss on your lips trailing down to your neck. You bit back a moan as he sinks his teeth into your neck leaving a nice bruise for you to admire later. He pulls away to inspect his handy work. "There now you're marked as mine." He smiles triumphantly. " Always have been always will be." You smile back.

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You were getting some shopping done downtown. Luca was working but texted you letting you know he'd pick you up. I was getting later and the street lights had just turned on. It was the weekend so the sidewalk was decently filled with people either meeting up with friends, doing some shopping, coming home from work. You name it, it was probably happening. You didn't mind the crowd though, it was kind of fun to people watch.

You get a text from Luca saying he was about 5 minutes out, just trying desperately to find some parking. You make a mental note to thank him later generously for picking you up at such a busy time. "Hey." You head whips up from your phone to be met with a group of well... thuggish looking men. "H.. hello?" You say back confused. "What's a pretty thing like you doing out here all alone?" "I-" "You should come drink with us!" The men surround you. You panic slightly glancing at the brutish looking men all around you." I'm actually waiting for someone! " You yelp." Great, your friends are our friends now. " One of them smirks.

"I'm actually not so friendly." A familiar voice rings out pushing past the ring of men. "Nor ' just a friend', thank you." Luca, your savior, plants a kiss on your forehead. This throws the group of men into a frenzy. One of them gets upset by this and throws a haphazard punch at your mafia boss boyfriend who easily doges it and plants one on just as rough right in the man's face. "I suggest you scram, fucking with me or them isn't a smart idea." Luca spits out.

The men scatter and you're left with Luca who is now dottingly inspecting you to make sure you're unharmed. "I'm so sorry I wasn't here sooner. Are you okay? They didn't touch you did they? If they did so help me god I will-" "Luca! I'm fine you got here just in time." You smile at him and he lets out a sigh of relief. "I have to give you a handgun to carry in your bag." He muses. "LUCA! You're too overprotective, you taught me how to throw a punch or two if needed." You place a kiss on his check. "I'm okay, I promise." He smiles down at you. "Well, when we get home I promise I'll make it to you."

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Shu left to go buy movie tickets. You've been wanting to see this movie for a while and you finally convinced Shu to come with you. You went to go buy snacks but finished before he was done. So you waited. A group of boys, probably no older than high school age exit a theater. They stand around talking about what they just watched and you laugh lightly recalling the days you went to the theater with a group of your friends.

One of the boys takes notice of you and suddenly you have a bunch of eyes on you. You pull out your phone to try to blend back into the background but you can tell they're still staring. Husher whispers and murmurs come from the gaggle of boys one of them is pushed forward and begins approaching you.

"hello, sorry if this is... Awkward? I noticed your really pretty and." He pulls out a slip of paper he was hiding behind his back. "I wanted to give you my number... Maybe we can see a movie sometime?" He smiles. You feel bad for the next words that are about to come out of your mouth. "I'm so so-"

"Got the ticket!" Shu sprints over to you. "Sorry it took me so long" he stops in his tracks. "A friend of yours? " He asks. you to shake your head. Shus eyes fall on the slip of paper "Ah... I see..." Shu takes your hand and walks away. " Shu!" You protest! "Listen I'm saving you the trouble of having to reject the poor guy, he'll live." Shu chuckles. "you huff but are definitely relieved you don't have to reject him yourself. Leave it to your partner to read to you better than you can.

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Ike really wanted to go to a new book cafe that opened up in town. He was excited and frankly you were excited for the cafe part. You walk hand in hand down the street as Ike excitedly rambles on about all the details

. "... And there's reading books you can rent out, which is super exciting because, come on it's a reading nook. " He giggles giddily. " I wonder if the lattes are any good." You ponder." I heard the food and the drinks are amazing too! A famous barista personally trained the entire staff! " He explains. This perks you up immediately.

You listen to Ike a bit more before finally reaching your distanation. "I'm gunna check out reserved area and get settled. Order me a something sweet?" He asks. "You bet!" You smile lovingly at your very excited boyfriend who dashes off to down the very quiet hall. You wonder over to the pastries cases where a young barista is working hard crafting the most delicious looking latte. Your mouth waters.

The barista notices you. "Hello! Is there anything I can get you?" You point at a few pastries Ike will definitely enjoy with you and then you order yourself you favorite flavor of latte. "Coming right up." He says with a wink. You find this odd but nevertheless wait patiently for your items.

Once your items are ready the barista calls out your name and you go to pay but they stop you. "It's on the house." You stare dumbfounded."I can't do that" "please I'm just pleased that someone as pretty as you can enjoy my work." They flash a smile at you and you feel uncomfortable. Ike shows up just in time. "Here's the pay for the items. I appreciate the sentiment but they're taken." He smiles sickly sweet taking your latte from you as well as the pastries. Ike leans on for a kiss. "Exactly what I wanted something sweet. " He smiles at the barista before whisking you off to your private room leaving the barista dumbfounded.

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Grocery shopping with Mysta is fun. He's easily distractible though, constantly putting items into the cart that don't necessarily need to be there. It's like grocery shopping with a small child minus all the screaming... Sometimes...

On this particular day you sent Mysta to the produce section in hopes he could help cut down on shopping time. You gave him the list of produce you needed and sent him on his way. Unsurprisingly you finished your half of the grocery shopping before he did. So you shot him a text letting him know you'd be getting in line.

You settle into a short line and wait for your turn. A young man a little younger than you was handling the register. He greeted you warmly as your turn approached. "Having a good day so far?" He asked with the beeps of your purchases in the background. "Pretty good." You respond politely. "A lot of groceries for a person all alone." He smiles at you. You cringe. Was that supposed to be a line or an insult. Regardless, you laugh politely and slightly awkwardly.

As if he could sense your awkwardness, Mysta comes to the rescue, hand full of produce and planting a kiss on the top of your hand. "Sorry for the wait! I keep going to the organic section and forgetting that all produce is organic." You sigh, you'll definitely talk about this later... The clerk looks taken a back by your boyfriend and backs off a little.

The two of you pay and walk out to get your groceries home. "Hun you know not all produce is organic right?" You question softy. "I know that." He sneers. "I just had to come up with a good excuse to get that guy to stop hitting on you!" He wails. " He was just being friendly. " Mysta shakes his head in defiance. " Nah men are just like that. You have to be careful otherwise I'll get jealous. " He pouts. You laugh, knowing full well he was jealous that whole time.

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Shout out Tumblr for not saving this as a draft this has been a post for over a day bc I didn't wanna lose all my work 🧍🏻‍♂️

Btw my requests are open so if you have one send it my way!

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puckarchives · 5 months

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kilby girl: l. hughes

blurb: in which luke takes meets his kilby girl. / word count: 2.2k / pairing: luke hughes x fem!reader

The first time Luke Hughes saw you, it was— for one, not something either of you expected. In fact, you technically weren’t supposed to be in the bar, and you were way too young to be legally serving drinks behind the counter, and it was a meeting that fate seemed to have overlooked for some reason.

The lights were dim and the music was loud— blaring an old 2000’s rock song that you were humming along too as you served the same rotation of businessmen in fake Rolex watches, frat guys trying to get your number, (or free drinks, but both were no’s,) and now, with the arrival of three of the New Jersey Devils, the occasional hockey player.

Regardless, though, the minute he saw you— flashing him a quick smile as you went back to putting together the three beers the man next to him had ordered, your shiny gold nose ring catching the dim lighting of the bar, and replying to the drunk ramblings of those around you with witty quips and jokes, he was in instant goner. An. Instant. Goner.

He was new to the team, and he had been filled in— mainly from Jack and Nico— that the bar you worked at was lenient in terms of why they served— as long as the ID looked real, it was real, so you went along to try and garner as many tips from as many customers as you could. And, when he walked towards the counter to try and order said drinks, (two beers for Jack and Nico, and one of the fruity cocktails you kept asking if people wanted just so he could see what type of reaction he could get from you when he ordered it,) he was interrupted from the WASP-y Chad next to him, ordering three drinks as well, and stealing away your attention from his approaching figure.

Regardless, however, Luke waited his turn— waited for the Chad to finish his drunk flirting, to which you had witty replies for, and tip you way less than you deserved, he approached the bar once again. Trying not to exude the nerves he felt looking at you up close— all pretty skin and pretty lips and pretty hair, he quickly mumbled off his orders.

“Uh, hi— can I get two beers and one of those Paloma’s, please?” he asked. He said so in his quiet manner— a Luke staple— and seemed to almost fold in on himself. He was large, you would give him that, but you would have thought a man like him, regardless of his height but instead just his general demeanor, would have tried to make himself the subject of everyone’s attention. Instead, he tried to slide past those near him,and get out of the way at whatever moment possible.

And, at first, because of the overbearing bass that seemed to be hitting every single note of Paramore’s “Misery Business” through the speakers, you didn’t register the words coming out of his mouth. The DJ, and old friend of the bar’s owner, had the music taste of an highschooler in the early 2000s, and made that fact very much clear whenever they decided to show up for their shift— playing everything off of their IPod Touch, and maneuvering from Paramore all the way to Fall Out Boy in a manner of minuted.

The mouth attached to a boy with a 6’2 frame, however, now stood in front of you— a frame that towered over you and the bar counter itself, and that you could clearly tell was moving, but seemed not to be able to register what was coming out of it.

“I’m sorry?” you asked, trying to get him to repeat himself.

Luke, in his quest to try and get his order to you, picked up the volume of voice— and that’s exactly the moment the DJ in the corner decided that he was done playing this rendition of the song, and instead lowered the volume of the music— all the way down. Meaning that the bar, which was packed to the brim with twenty-something wannabes and hasbeens, went completely silent, minus the chatter.

“SORRY, CAN I GE-” he yelled, before catching himself and stopping as the various heads turned in his direction to see who was yelling. It seemed, for a moment, as if he was going to burst into a puddle of embarrassment. You, however, kept staring at the boy in front of you with pretty eyes whose cheeks— and the tips of his ears— now resembled the red shaker you held in your hands.

“Woah there, no need to yell,” you joked, trying to diffuse the shame he must have felt, and ensuring you said the words with the lightest tone possible. Luke only shook his head and looked down, still trying to trample down the embarrassment he felt.

“DJ Davis over there is just known for his impeccable timing, and I’m sorry you were caught in his crossfire,” you joked, “but if you can look at me with those pretty eyes of yours and give me your order, it’s on the house, yeah?” you said, trying to make him feel better about the obvious crappy situation he had found himself in.

God, you really felt for him. You had never seen him in the bar before, and especially not on a Thursday night, when your shift was jam-packed full of the regular crowds of business suits and polos, so he was definitely a welcome addition, and now that you had gotten a chance to actually take him in— the curls he kept pushing behind his head, the frame that filled out his gray long sleeve well, and the obvious muscle definition you could see from his hands alone, he was cute— and more than that, he was still looking at you with his puppy dog eyes.

Snapping out of your stupor, though, you asked once more what he’d like, assuring him that “yes, it’s on the house,” and “no, you don’t have to pull out your wallet! I swear!” to fend off the hand that held a credit card in your direction. Once he repeated his order, however— the blood orange Paloma and the two craft beers— you set off to work, grabbing two large glasses from behind you, and then swinging around to grab another smaller glass for the Paloma.

As you mixed the mezcal-filled cocktail and poured the house drafts, you set them in front of him, and once again had to wave him off as he offered his card to you. “Please, I insist,” he said, still looking at you with his big eyes, and trying hard not to smile in your direction, holding the card out to you.

For Luke, though, he was still mesmerized by you— the drink making had caused a slight rush of red to your cheeks, and despite piecing together that you worked at the bar, it was still such a welcome sight to see you in your element, zooming around the bar, mixing the drinks like you could practically do it in your sleep, and on top of that, still being so nice.

Catching sight of the name on the card, however, you did a double take at the boy in front of you— a Hughes. You knew only one other person with that last name, (despite living in New Jersey, which was odd,) and as you looked away and searched the rest of the bar to find him, you landed on the hockey player you had come to know— Jack Hughes, and Nico right next to him in the corner booth. He was a bit shorter than the Hughes in front of you, and a lot tanner, but, despite what you told yourself, you much preferred the one in front of you.

“Are you by any chance related to the creep that’s been staring at you this entire time?” you asked him, still not knowing his name, and once again pushing away the hand with the card in it. “And put that away, I already told you it’s on the house, pretty boy,” you said, and wow, he sure could blush, you thought, as you once again saw the tips of his ears turn a pink shade. You weren’t trying to make him nervous or embarrass him, it was simply your personality shining through.

“Uh, yeah, that’s my brother,” he laughed, finally putting the card away in his wallet— which was Devils themed, how cute— and scratching the back of his neck. “Do you know him?” he asked you.

You stared at him, (again,) for a few seconds before meeting his eyes once more. “He’s your brother? As in, your flesh and blood?” you asked. He only laughed and shook his head.

“Well then, please let Jack know that he still owes me a round of darts so I can finish kicking his ass, and tell Nico that I’m no longer allowed to serve him the poutine fries after what happened last time,” you told him. “And while you’re at it, mind giving me your name?” you asked. “I can’t keep calling you pretty boy in my head. People might get the wrong idea, you know?”

Luke scrambled to keep up with your fast-paced speech, and once he heard the anecdotes about Jack and Nico— both of which sounded familiar and were probably true, he only laughed and picked up his drinks. Now that he was smirking down at you— and oh, what a sight that was— he met your eyes once more, saying a quick “Luke. Luke Hughes,” before turning his back to you, looking back one more time, and making his way back to his table, where the other two cheered at the arrival of their beers, and where Luke took a sip of his red-hued drink.

It wasn’t until you were able to peel your eyes away from their little group that you saw the small napkin laid in front of you— two $50 bills tucked into it, and the number of one “Luke” scribbled out on it.

It also wasn’t until much later that night— now almost nine hours into your ten hour shift, where you felt someone approach the bar as the final calls rang out once more. When you got the chance to look up from the glass your were furiously wiping, you were met, once again, with the smiling face of Luke Hughes— and now, you could tell the slight blush on his face wasn’t from the alcohol, but instead his reaction to you.

“Can I help you, man who left his number on a napkin?” you started. “Very suave by the way, but I would recommend you be careful where you leave that. Who knows what kind of psychos could have gotten a hold of it? Then who would be the rookie for the year?” you asked. His only response was a smirk— and god, it was cute— and a shake of his head.

“Well, we really wouldn’t want that. Especially since it was clearly meant for the beautiful girl behind the bar,” he added.

You caught on to his flirting, but just to make sure he wasn’t simply egging you on, you decided to mess with him one last time— ”Well, I’ll make sure to give it to Bertha once I’m done. I’m sure she’d appreciate the company of a stud like you,” you told him, trying to remain as serious as possible.

In the blink of an eye, his smirk seemed to fall, and he stumbled over his words as he tried to piece together that “No, it was meant for you actually.”

Your only response was to giggle, a sound that Luke instantly seemed to attach himself to, as you replied. “I’m just messing with you, I swear.”

“But, Mr. Luke Hughes, if I am going to use that number, I would like to to mean something,” you said. “Can’t just use it to get free drinks here.” You were hoping that his move actually did mean something — maybe it meant that he’d ask you out, or even just to start a friendship.

In the two hour difference after your introductions to Luke, you hadn’t only Googled him, but pieced together the previous information you had learned about him from your conversations with jack and Nico, when the pair would come in on slow nights and sit at the bar, chatting with you until they were forced to leave because of early morning skates.

“Well, I know I’m new to Jersey, but I would love a tour, if you’re free anytime soon?” he asked. Before you could respond though, you heard his name, and the mumblings of what sounded like “Stop flirting with Y/N” from somewhere behind him. You laughed at the voice, and turned back to Luke once more.

“Well, I work most of the week, but I’ll give you a text, hmm? We can set up a time, and who knows? Maybe I’ll show you everything good that Jersey has to offer” you said. His only reply was to smile, and before he left, turned back once more— ”That sounds good. Really good, Y/N.”

Funny, you had never even told him your name.

#luke hughes #luke hughes x reader #luke hughes imagine #quinn hughes #jack hughes #nj devils #new jersey devils #nhl imagine #nhl players #reader insert #nico hischier

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buckysgrace · 19 days

Note

request

what about drunk gator being all lovey dovey to his girl? im in my feels

The way I had to rush to do this because?? so cute. I hope you enjoy <3

Gator's shell slowly dissipated the greater his stack of red cups grew. The cheap beer spilled from the rim of the cup, thick waves crashing onto his nimble fingers as he staggered towards you once again.

"What are you-," You started, only to be cut off as his pink lips fell across the corner of your lips. You laughed, squealing as you quickly balanced the cup as he drifted his hands towards your waist, "Gator!"

He looked at you confused, eyes hazy as a lazy grin formed on his lips. His cheeks were flushed, his hair disheveled from its normal neat placement. You gripped his cup tightly, wincing at the sticky liquid that dripped onto your fingers.

The music from the DJ continued to thump as he grumbled towards you, his shirt half unbuttoned and rolled up towards his elbows. His suit jacket had long been discarded, thrown around somewhere in the dance hall that you'd have to try and hunt down before you left. The alcohol had clearly settled a permanent blush over him as his lips curled up into a cheesy smile.

You had decided on your own earlier in the night that you'd let him let loose as much as he wanted. He could certainly use it from his stressful job. Plus, it was only fair. He had babied you the previous weekend after you'd had one too many margaritas with your friends.

He moved slowly, but still caught you off guard as he gripped your chin and placed a sticky kiss across your cheek. You laughed at the feeling of his lips against your skin.

"You're so pretty," He mumbled as he continued to press sloppy kisses against your cheek, "My pretty baby." He cooed as he began to rock you both back and forth. You stuck his cup out, determined to keep it from spilling all over you.

"How much have you had to drink?" You teased him as he brought his chin down against your shoulder, his brown eyes wide and warm as he stared at you. The lights glimmered off of them, giving the illusion of stars within the deep colors.

"Mhm, just a bit." He replied cheekily, looking pleased with himself as he brushed his fingers across your curves. His lips fell against the crook of your neck, beginning to kiss you there.

"I think it was more than that," You smiled as you faced him, determined to stop his motions before he got too ahead of himself, "But thank you. You're very handsome." You added as you patted his cheek softly, enjoying the way he leaned against you.

"Wanna dance?" He asked as he fluttered his eyelashes towards you, "Gotta show off that I have-, That I've got the prettiest girl." His words stumbled out as he leaned against you, like he wasn't able to stand straight on his own.

"I think everyone saw that earlier," You reminded him gently, but were still flattered by his words, "You look tired." You observed as you pushed the brown strands from his warm forehead. He shut his eyes this time as he smiled.

"S'fine," He replied, his eyes still shut as he leaned against your touch, "Just wanna be with you." He mumbled a second later, his cheek falling against yours as he wrapped his arms around you.

You moved one hand to hold onto him, keeping the other one outstretched so he didn't spill anymore of his beer on either of you. He smelt nice, a little fruity from his vape that you were sure he was sneaking little puffs on here and there.

"I wanna be with you too," You added, pulling away a bit to meet his eyes again, "Are you ready to go? We can hang out in the hotel." You suggested, watching the spark that filled his eyes.

"And do what?" He asked, lips curling into a smirk as his eyes lazily drifted over you. You laughed, knowing it would be a miracle if he didn't pass out in the elevator.

"Whatever you want," You added before you set his drink down, pressing your lips together as he protested, "Don't worry, I'll get you something better." You told him as you linked your fingers together.

"You're going to gimme water." He whined as you slowly began to drag him around, eyes drifting towards where he may have lost his jacket.

"No," You said quickly, although that was exactly what you were going to do. You had developed quite a sly trick to it, just having to pretend that they were little shots. He was so far gone at this point that he couldn't ever tell the difference, "I would never." You turned your head, hiding your laugh as he began to ramble off about something.

"I love you," He mumbled against your skin once you were both in the elevator, his breath warm against you as he leaned his body weight against you, "So so so so much." He told you, face furrowed up seriously as he watched you.

"I love you too," You smiled as you met his lips in a gentle kiss, giggling as he peppered his lips against yours repeatedly, "You're very sweet." You told him, fully embracing this time as he held onto you tightly. Like he was afraid to let you go, even though you knew that would never happen.

"You're the sweet one," He said quickly, "The sweetest and prettiest gal I ever saw." He mumbled, looking as if he was staring at his whole world in front of him. Your heart hammered this time, completely taken away by his compliements.

"Come on, lover boy," You replied as you tugged him forward, helping him down towards the room, "Let's get you to bed." You told him, grinning at the way he started to whine about how he absolutely was not tired. It only took five minutes for him to be inside, to kick off his shoes before he was snoring into the pillows.

#Gator Tillman #Gator Tillman fluff #gator tillman fanfiction #Gator Tillman x reader #Gator Tillman x you #Gator Tillman x yn #Gator Tillman x fem!reader #Gator Tillman x female reader #Gator Tillman x reader fluff #He's the sweetest your honor

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izgnanik-a · 20 days

Text

Kicking off Pride month with some Ghoap?? 🫣

cw: mutual pining, light smut, heavy grinding, a bit of aftercare, ftm!Simon

// MDNII // Don’t like? Don’t read. //

The bar had been something of a hole in the wall for the lgbt+ youth for some time until it actually became something. Once a week, the event turned into something fruity, something to cater to the “gay youth”, but it was all just some sad excuse to get in more income.

Despite knowing that, they still showed up because it was a single day they could connect with their people.

So, having been a frequent to the club on the usual days, Simon decided to pay the door fee to get in on said youth days. The music had been playing unusually loud, spotlights and a disco ball on the dj booth swirling, the smell of vodka was pungent as he passed a group of drag kings laughing it up against the pinball machine.

A single slot machine sat against a wall of ceiling-to-floor mirrors, and the local winner of the mega-bux was scribbled on a piece of paper above it.

If you’d had sneezed, anyone would’ve passed by the building if it weren’t for the music and piercing lights through the blackout windows.

Simon didn’t know where to stand at the usual dead bar top, having to wait by the ATM by the bathrooms to get a drink. He wasn’t a heavy drinker, but being overwhelmed by something that wasn’t his usual Friday night — he was considering leaving.

He should’ve brought a friend, he thought to himself. But what good would that do him?

The whole point of him coming out was to make nice with someone he could take home. The last time he’d been able to have a clear enough mind to woo someone was months previous, his toys and hands had been enough but he missed physical contact, even from a stranger.

He couldn’t take home a stranger if there was a friend there he’d recognized.

So, he found himself sitting by the wall of mirrors where drag royalty were fixing their lashes, looking at their teeth to make sure there were no smudges of lipstick, and the crowd progressively grew past fire code violations.

The crowds gave wails when their favorite iconic songs had come on, moving to the dance floor to form crowd around themselves.

Simon didn’t think he was that kind of person. He enjoyed being spotlights in small groups; lunch dates with friends, movie nights, and even going to the fair. He sunk further in his seat as the liquor in his drink got thinner, ice cubes melting it down.

He returned his glass to the bar to grab another. Eyes flitting to the drink menu above the bar, he missed the body hovering to his right, a hair’s distance from his shoulder.

The stumble of the crowd brought them together, and Simon’s ribs meshed with the high bar top.

“Sorry. I’m sorry.” Said the stranger, patting Simon’s back softly before stepping off.

Simon looked up at the brute, and good god — he was beautiful. Blue eyes, pierced brow, lean, tanned, and tall. Everything Simon could want to be, and to be with.

He must’ve caught Simon’s blatant stare, because he was looking back. Giving a polite smile, and swayed in his step. “I hope you didn’t think I shoved into you on purpose.” Said the Scotsman. “I’d think up a better pick-up line than trying to spill a drink on you.”

Hitting on me? Simon blinked. All he could think of was TV static. The guy probably thought he was stupid for just staring at him, not saying a thing.

The bartender approached, and if Simon had been staring at the board instead of this man’s face, he’d know what he wanted.

“I’ll have the Regina, and whatever else this one wants,” he gestured towards Simon, “I owe it for bumping into you.”

Simon collected enough brain cells to look up at the menu, and utter the words of some gay icon gospel drink they’d had, the Leslie, or something. It was put before him with a pineapple and tropical umbrella.

The man smiled as he paid for the tab, and collected his drink with a sip. “Mm. Have a good night bud.” Patting Simon once more on the back, he turned for the crowd and walked towards the patio doors.

Simon grabbed his drink, having no interest in actually drinking it, and slinking in the direction of the patio doors. He hadn’t talked to a single person all night, and this beautiful man had shown him an ounce of attention. He heeled like a dog, watching through the blackout windows as the man came to the side of a group of smokers, giving them a smile and sipping his drink.

Of course he’d come with people, Simon thought. Someone like that would.

Left to cradle his drink alone again, Simon slumped to the cushioned seats across from the dance floor, sitting with his elbows on the table under the low light.

Simon wondered if he should’ve just gone home. At the bottom of his second cup, he twiddled the tropical umbrella in his fingers as the music picked up again.

When wandering eyes had glazed over his, he looked down in avoidance. He didn’t want just anyone coming up to him. Though there were few, none compared to the beauty who’d bumped into him and bought him a drink. He was left high and dry, and still wanted to know his name at least.

Simon contemplated it, and he was going home. It was final. He collected his empty glass, umbrella between his lips, and left his glass on the bar top. When he turned for the door, he watched the patio doors come open and the crowd shuffle in. That blue eyed devil following.

Simon watched in awe as the crinkles by his eyes only made him more attractive, he couldn’t have been much older than Simon; late 20’s? Simon thought. With his hand on the door handle to head out, his eyes caught those blue ones, and Simon felt all giddy again.

The man paused as he passed, arm’s reach from Simon. “Leaving so soon?” He asked.

Say something cool. Simon thought to himself. He leaned his elbow up against the push doors, “Not my cup of tea.” He shrugged.

The man nodded. “It was good to see you.” He held up his hand to fist bump.

Who was this man to treat Simon like an old pal? Simon bumped his fist and gained a smile out of it.

“Get home safe.” The man said to him, pointing, and turning for the bar with his friends.

Simon, gobsmacked, was taken by the door opening and excused himself as he walked past the people in the doorway.

He came with a task at hand and left with nothing. Completely outwitted by a pretty man with blue eyes.

The following week, when Simon didn’t have luck with the usual cis crowd, he headed back to the gay youth event at the bar. His eyes searching the dance floor and patio for that same blue eyes man who’d been sent for him, and didn’t find him. He sat at the bar this time, looking at each customer who approached, and none of them were him.

Simon had rum and coke in hand when a gentle pat against his back jostled him. He looked up to the recipient, that blue eyed man had walked up on him while he was lost in thought.

“Hey. Didn’t think I’d see you again.” He said, giving Simon’s nape a squeeze before releasing him. “How are you?”

Chills ran down Simon’s spine where his warm palm had grazed him.

“Get anything good?” He pulled himself into the stool beside Simon, leaned up against the sticky bar top with no hesitation.

Simon needed to play it cool, despite the red in his ears growing hotter. “Rum and coke.”

The man grimaced. “That’s it?” He withheld a chuckle.

Simon puffed his chest up. “Is that a problem?“

He put his sizable hands up, thick fingers and manicured nails drawing themselves into Simon’s memory. “No problem. I’m just a whiskey man myself.”

The heaviest drink Simon could get without any consequences was a 13% alcoholic wine that was near half a take-away meal’s cost. But even one drink was testing it. The coke and watered down rum was nothing.

“Well, whiskey-man, surely you can enjoy it quietly.” Simon quipped.

“Where’s the fun in that?” Pushed back the man.

Simon watched him lean up in his chair to speak to the bartender, reading their lips to confirm, and sat back in his seat. He had a cool aura about him as he spread himself out while Simon kept tightly in his seat.

The man held his hand out, palm up, towards Simon finally. “John MacTavish. My friends call me Johnny.”

Simon didn’t think he looked like a Johnny, didn’t think he even looked like a John. But he wanted to paint a pretty picture of this man, so Johnny would have to do. “And where are your friends, John?”

Johnny smiled, hand still extended out. “I could introduce them to you, if you’d like. Do you smoke?”

Simon had a few puffs of a smoke once or twice when he was in uni, and some endless day when he couldn’t sleep during bootcamp, but he wasn’t a social smoker. So he had no idea why he said “yeah.”

He was following Johnny out to the patio like a pup on a leash, holding the door for passing people, and coming to stand at the patio table by a collection of people.

Johnny introduced them singularly, and in pairs. He’s hers, they’re his, and they’re together — all those things. When it came time to introduce Simon, however, Johnny was at a loss.

“What’s your friend’s name again?” Asked one of Johnny’s mates, holding a cigarette between his fingers.

Johnny turned to Simon, and raised his brow. “He’s very secretive, actually.” He teased.

Simon looked to his friends who ooh’ed and ahh’ed.

“We love a good mystery.” Said one of Johnny’s non-binary friends, leaned up against their partner.

Johnny straddled the bench as he sat, gazing up at Simon from the promising height. “Sit, join us.”

Simon felt his nerves fire again when Johnny smiled. He sat in the bench, like a normal person, while Johnny remained facing him, practically bracketing Simon between his massive thighs.

Johnny was all types of fit, just enough for Simon to bite onto his skin and pull at it with his teeth, like a dog with a toy.

While Johnny’s friends were immersed in conversation, Johnny wasn’t one to butt in and speak. He just sat, admiring his friends, sipping his drink, and occasionally glancing towards Simon.

Simon’s knee began to hop just thinking about this man beside him. How he’d greet him kindly every time, give him flirty little gazed and smirks. Comments that were deliberately provocative, pushing back when Simon would be bratty. He was all kinds of hot.

“Do you want to go for a walk?” Johnny’s whisper in his ear made him turn his head, realizing he’d leaned in until his chest was up against Simon’s shoulder. His head turned behind Simon’s so he’d have to turn cheek to cheek to hear him proper.

Meeting Johnny gaze was a mistake, because the Brit was nodding blindly, following to stand.

“Going for a walk.” Johnny gestured for a smoke, and one of his buddies gave him their cigarette box and lighter.

Johnny and Simon abandoned their drinks in favor of walking through the lot. Simon didn’t know what he was doing, what was originally supposed to be him finding someone to bring home and fuck turned out to be yearning for this man. This stranger.

Johnny took a cigarette from the box before holding one out to Simon. Compelled, Simon watched Johnny light his first, watching the coveted glow of flames light his face under the night sky. He took the offered lighter from Johnny, finger tips grazing his, and lit his own smoke.

They leaned up against unknown cars, taking puffs between silenced stares.

Johnny took a puff before speaking. “You alright?”

Simon furrowed his brow around the filter, fingers touching his lips.

“You anxious?” Johnny asked, and when the bewilderment grew, he spiked again. “Leg bouncing, and lip chewing. I’ve seen enough people to know when your heads too full on thoughts.”

Simon sighed smoke through his nose. “It’s nothing.”

Johnny hummed. His eyes panned to the starlit sky, and back towards Simon. “You know, I didn’t think you’d be back. I thought maybe it’s the drinks, but they’re shit. No one really likes them unless they’re plastered.”

“Are you saying I have other motives of being here?” Simon’s nerves kicked in again. He felt himself shaking with adrenaline. He wanted this man on him.

“You said it’s not your cup of tea. So what are you doing here?”

Simon regretted even trying to be cool. Surely this man didn’t think he was a cis guy just trying to get a few free drinks, he wasn’t that pretty.

Johnny eyed him, almost at the end of his cigarette.

Simon wished it would go in forever, that they could stray from the club and stay in this spot alone. Even in silence, despite Simon burning inside. He couldn’t spend another week waiting to see this man again.

“You know,” he pinched his cigarette between his fingers. “You’re one to talk. I mean, really. You greet me like we’re old pals, and buy me drinks. I’d say you have anterior motives, MacTavish.” Simon pointed at him briefly, a coy smirk playing at the corners of his lips as he stepped closer. “Even thought to share a smoke with me, all alone in this lot, where no one but the drivers can see.” He tut his tongue at the taller man. “Do you think you’re so well kept?”

Johnny only stared at him with lowered lids, taking a puff before putting it out under his boot. “I was actually quite transparent with you from the start. You were too focused on the drink menu to even notice me crossing the bar for you.”

Simon sputtered, all functions lost, traction making him lose his focus on the race. He stared at Johnny’s smug face.

“I didn’t think you even wanted anything to do with me, considering you didn’t interact with anyone that first night.” Johnny put his hands on his buckle, leaning back against the car. “Just sat down with your drink most of the night.”

When Simon had thought he was being perceptive, he was just plain blind. He blinked at Johnny, near eye level with him leaned down now, and his cigarette had burned down to near filter.

Johnny cleared his throat, pinching the cigarette from between his fingers, bringing it to his own lips. He took a drag as he stared into Simon’s eyes, and huffed it aside. “If that’s not your cup of tea, then I apologize for even saying so.”

Simon kickstarted from his shock to take the cigarette from Johnny’s lips, bringing it to his own to finish, and stomped it under his heel. With his exhale, he blew it over Johnny’s face softly.

Johnny shut his eyes and relished in the whisper of breath over his face. He reopened his eyes and Simon leaned his palms against the car, bracketing Johnny in. “Yeah?” Johnny gave a teasing smirk. “You wanna be a big man now?”

Simon’s face hovered over Johnny’s, forehead grazing Johnny’s Mohawk as he stared into his eyes. He felt Johnny’s hands circle his hips, massive hands stroking up his waist to his ribs. He was rippling with chills, sighing a breath over Johnny’s lips.

“Come on, big man,” Johnny teased. “Show me what you’ve got.”

When Simon’s mouth met Johnny’s, he tasted like smoke and bourbon with a hint of vanilla. He was rough with his hands as he lapped at Simon’s tongue with care, pulling his bottom lip between his teeth before dragging Simon into his body.

Simon felt the heat overtake him as Johnny groped his ass, mouthing along his chin to his jaw and throat. Simon didn’t realize he was relinquishing his position of power until he was gasping against Johnny’s tongue on his throat. Sucking soft bruises along his pulse and ear, Simon collected himself by pulling Johnny’s hair back.

He gained a hiss of pain from Johnny, lips reflecting with spit under the starlit sky. Simon wanted on him again. “Are you going to just keep kissing me or are you going to actually fuck me?” Simon huffed.

Johnny only smiled. “I thought the kissing was pretty hot. I didn’t know we were going to fuck. I would’ve brought protection.”

Simon nearly died to those words.

“I could eat you out.” Johnny offered. “But I’m not doing it in a car.”

The front door to Simon’s apartment was sticky and had to be shouldered open sometimes, but Johnny didn’t seem to care as he was tonguing Simon down against the door. They’d finally gotten in and nearly slammed the door off its hinges.

Johnny kissed Simon’s neck again, grinding against him as he brought his leg up to his hip. “God. Where do you want-“

“The couch.” Simon uttered between tears of Johnny’s teeth against his lips.

They dragged each other to the worn couch, and Johnny was tugging Simon over him. With his hands tight in his clothes, Simon didn’t realize he was grinding into the man’s stomach until he was practically giggling against his mouth.

Simon looked down at him in confusion, and Johnny waved his hand at him. “What’s so funny?”

“Nothing. It’s nothing.” He insisted as he rubbed his hands up and down Simon’s thighs. “This is nice.”

Nice? Nice?? Simon was spiraling. This man was shoving his tongue down Simon’s throat, holding his thigh the entire drive over to his house, and this was nice??

Johnny smiled up at Simon, hot hands resting on his thighs. “Did I ruin it?”

Simon pressed his palms into the couch at his sides. “Yeah.”

Johnny blew a breath from his lips. “Smooth.” He told himself. “I was just thinking how we shared a cigarette and then had our first kiss.”

“Is that what you were thinking?”

Johnny hummed.

“Getting hung up on the first kiss?”

He smirked as he hummed again.

“That’s a new low.”

“Lowest bar you’ve ever seen?”

“Hard yes.”

Johnny hummed as he walked his hands up Simon’s thighs to his hips. “I liked that grind we had going before.”

“Yeah?” Simon leaned over Johnny’s face, holding the couch above his head.

“Yeah.” Johnny sighed against his mouth as he kissed him, softly this time as Johnny maneuvered his hips how he liked.

The grind of Simon’s hips against Johnny wasn’t scratching the itch that he needed. Needing just an edge to get that right spot. Simon shifted his hips towards Johnny’s hip, catching against his hip bone, and practically breaking the moment his jeans pressed against him in the most delightful ways.

Simon hummed and whined into Johnny’s mouth, rubbing until he felt faint, like he could cum in his pants right there. But that wasn’t the point of bringing Johnny back — no. Johnny said he wanted to eat him out since he didn’t bring a condom to fuck him.

But there was an obstacle to be hurdled.

Johnny’s wandering hands clasped themselves to Simon’s ass, grinding him a little firmer against his side, and all thoughts left Simon.

Simon trembled in his grip, gasping in his ear as Johnny pressed their cheeks together. He groaned and moaned, desperately writhing under Johnny’s direction. Shushing him sweetly when his hips stuttered against him.

“That’s it. Good boy. Cum for me, won’t you?” Johnny gazed down at Simon drooling against his shoulder, combing a hand over his cheek. “Nice and slow for me. Of course you needed something to grind up against. To make you feel better. Poor thing.” He cooed softly. “Cum for me. Be sweet for me and cum, using me as a toy to get off.”

His words amplified Simon’s bubbling orgasm, and he wanted his hands in his pants already. But his orgasm was climbing, and he needed an out. He shoved his face deeper into Johnny’s neck as a ghastly grunt escaped him, chills running down his body as he came in his briefs, followed by heavy panting.

Johnny’s soft assuring strokes through his hair made him float off in consciousness. “Good boy. You did so well. Good boy.” He soothed kisses along Simon’s shoulder that had him making soft pleased noises with every breath.

Simon could fall asleep like this. In another person’s arms, cradled by warmth and softness. He should be embarrassed for cumming so easily in his pants to just grinding against someone’s hip. God. He could feel the shame rising slowly in him.

Did Johnny want to leave? Was he only comforting Simon because he was crushing him to the couch? Did he think Simon owed him because of it? Was this awkward now?

Johnny’s hand cupped the back of his neck, gently scratching his nape, and his tension eased. “I’ll leave if you want me to, but for now, we can just lay here like this. Don’t even have to say a word.”

The reassurance was nice, and Simon didn’t know if he wanted the man to leave him. He was comfortable and warm, but Simon feared looking him in the eyes again and having to relieve such a horrible sexual situation.

Simon’s whole plan was to use someone to get off, to have a fraction of time with someone again. So why did this feel off?

Simon opened his eyes abruptly, not realizing he’d fallen asleep from the languished touched to the back of his neck to the warmth Johnny’s body gave off. His panic ebbed when he realized he was alone in his apartment, and the lights had been shut off.

Sitting up in the dark, he sighed as he searched for his phone to find that it was well past midnight. He didn’t remember when he’d left the club, but it must’ve been early night considering the moon hadn’t even crossed the middle of the sky yet.

A sticky note bumped his fingers as he glanced at his phone, and he stared in confusion. Reaching for the light switch behind the couch, he blinked at the pack of sticky notes on the coffee table with a pen from his knitted basket.

xxx xxxx -Johnny, thank you for tonight, call me ;)

Simon was livid.

This man had a heavy make-out session with him, let him grind against his body like some horny teenager, and soothed him to sleep by scratching and kissing his body. Only to shuffle away in the night, leaving a note like a lovesick Cinderella who had to return to his life.

Simon sat up, feeling the moisture from his briefs clinging to him. Sticky note left to haunt him, he wiped himself clean and fell back into bed.

Next chapter??

Fic masterlist

#cod mwii #cod mw2 #cod mwiii #cod mw3 #simon ghost riley #simon riley #simon riley cod #john soap mactavish #johnny mactavish #johnny soap mactavish #cod smut #ghostsoap #ghost x soap #ghoap #simon x johnny #t4t cod #izgnanik-a

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gas-station-trackphone · 1 month

Text

Cleaning out my old college google drive and found this list of reddie hcs I made like 3 years ago.

Richie sings to himself all the time, a habit he picked up after years of living alone and doesn’t even realize he does it

Richie sometimes covers his mouth when he laughs/smiles because he’s self conscious about his teeth

Eddie kills all the bugs in the house; Richie traps them under cups and forgets about them if Eddie’s not home to recruit as executioner

Eddie loves fruity/frozen cocktails but always gets a gin and tonic for “health reasons” until Richie encourages him to just get what he wants (Richie drinks bourbon/whiskey for most of his life but tries not to drink at all lately; he gets shirley temples so Eddie feels better about his order sometimes)

They pick up each other’s mannerisms; Richie does the little hand chop thing, Eddie develops a Richie Response in which he makes dumb innuendos without meaning to, etc

Eddie drives, Richie DJs unless he’s DD

Eddie’s never been taken care of when he’s sick, he was smothered by his mom and his wife wouldn’t come near him if he might be contagious, so he’s not prepared for how it feels for someone to actually make him feel better and loved when he’s sick

They both have a lot of anxiety about the other losing interest when the shine wears off

#reddie #this was a simpler time i miss these boys #it stephen king #richie tozier #eddie kaspbrak

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ominoose · 9 months

Text

𝐈𝐧 𝐌𝐲 𝐕𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐬

Pairing: Vampire!Jake Lockley x Afab!Reader

Prompt: CNC & Sharp Teeth

Summary: You're at a shitty Halloween party, drinking some punch next to a stranger in a vampire costume. Then you're trapped in a cab, realising far too late the punch was spiked with more than alcohol.

Warnings: Extremely dubious consent, aphrodisiac, alcohol, blood, smut.

WC: 2.2K

Kinktober Masterlist

The party had gotten off to a good start. There was alcohol aplenty, bowls of sweets and spiked juice, someone was in a corner handing out skeletal spliffs and the DJ was playing banger after banger. It had the makings to be a great party, except everyone attending seemed to be as dead as a corpse.

"I'll be back in a minute, just going to talk to a friend real quick!" And there went the one person you actually knew at the party, leaving you alone in the living room while everyone else milled around, not really dancing, just ghosting from person to person. Safe to say, the Halloween party wasn't very lively.

With a heavy sigh you force yourself up from the musty couch, heading to the kitchen for whatever concoction someone brewed in the punch bowl.

Someone was already there, leaning over the bowl to dip their cup in. They wore a long black cape, which hinted at a wide variety of costumes, from Zoro to Batman. As you rounded next to them, it was neither of your earlier guesses. Next to you was a man in a white shirt and tie, crisp black trousers, black leather gloves and sharp, pointed teeth.

The moment you're next to him, red eyes snap over to you. A single dark curl ghosts over his forehead, the rest of his hair hidden under a black flat cap. Altogether it was a pretty lazy closet vampire costume, but you weren't going to begrudge anyone for not dressing to the nines to attend a party. At least he went to the effort of adding a few specks of blood to the corners of his smirk.

Leaning forward to scoop your own cup in, he makes no attempt to move back and give you space, almost pressing against you. When you straighten yourself, his eyes are still on you, and oddly bright despite using only contact lenses.

"You look as lively as the guy I killed on the way here." The voice had a Spanish rumble to it, laced with amusement and casualness.

You sip the punch, hiding a chuckle at the line. It tasted different from the last time you'd been drinking it, the fruity flavour now underlined with something bitter. Before you're able to properly put your finger on the change your eyelids rapidly become heavy, and no amount of blinking seems to orientate you better as the room spins and becomes a blur. Alarm bells barely have time to go off in your mind before everything turns black, a faint array of screams being the last thing your conscious of.

A dull yet pulsating pain rolls over your shoulders and arms. You sit up, head and heart both throbbing in pain and terror as a sleek, black taxi interior unblurrs around you. Your mind was empty of any memories after the punch table, the only thing that stuck was the deep red eyes of the strange man in the vampire costume and the knowing smirk that curled at the very edge of his blood-stained lips.

Immediately you try to open the car doors to no avail, both are locked from the inside and no amount of thumping against the cold glass will attract help. The cab was parked in an empty, dingy ally, with only one light flickering at the far end, leaving you to strain your eyes through shadows. Its out of those shadows the stoic man emerges, a glowing red ember puffing between his curled lips, almost matching the red eyes pointed right at you.

The man slowly approached, seemingly enjoying the look of confusion and fear marring your face as you backed away from the glass, only to end up bumping against the other door. He stopped beside the car, staring a moment longer as he dropped his cigarette to the ground and stomped it out, eyes never once leaving you. The taxi door opened quietly as he stepped in, the flat cap on his head skimming the car roof as he lounges onto the back seat, thighs spread.

“Don’t look so scared, quierdo. If I wanted you dead, I’d have ripped out your throat with the rest of those lowlives.” The casual wave of his hand does nothing to quell your racing heart, thudding against your chest so heavily you can feel it in your throat.

He leans forward, arms resting on his knees, close enough to smell the faint whiskey and tobacco on his breath.

“You know, you were the only one at that party, if I can even call it that, that seemed… real.”

The words caught you off guard by how odd they were, the general bizarre nature of the situation only adding to your anxiety. Despite the fear clouding your mind, your eyes didn’t miss the sharp fangs that peaked out from his lip ever so slightly when he spoke, the dark red stains that speckled his previously crisp white collar, the red line that rolled from his jaw to his adams apple, glistening slightly under the yellow interior cab light.

“You weren’t entertained by the mindless chattering, not impressed by the countless pendejos trying to get their dicks wet, no. You sat on that ugly little couch like it was your throne, like it was all beneath you.” He had leaned closer as he spoke, towering over you as he spoke.

Closer still, he moved until he was by your ear, warm breath huffing over your neck and sending goosebumps blooming across your skin.

“You were beautiful.”

The deep, gravelly cadence made your beating heart stutter. Your quick breaths caught in your throat. The closer he got, the more a strange heat slithered just under your skin. You’d attributed it to the alcohol or the now obviously spiked punch, but it was unnatural the extent it was reaching when he was near. The smirk grew as he licked his lips, nose nuzzling faintly just behind your ear.

Out of instinct you gasp, inching away only for a strong, gloved hand to grab your jaw and pull you towards the mans lips. His kiss was seering. Slow yet forceful, his tongue moulded into your mouth, exploring it all whilst sharp teeth caught against your bottom lip and left pearls of blood rolling down your chin.

The man pulls back, red eyes glowing as he sensually sucks the blood from your lip, lapping the dribbles of it from your chin. The groan from the back of his throat was almost a growl as he locked eyes with you, his gloved thumb smearing crimson stains over your chin.

“Draining you would be such a waste, hermosa. Such beauty shouldn’t be fleeting. It’s been far too long since a human has piqued my interest. Why don’t we see exactly how special you are, hm?”

As if to answer his own question the vampire tugs you securely into his lap as if you were a frail doll, grinding you into his crotch with a satisfied sigh. The movement caused your underwear to slide and pinch against you, somehow you’d become soaking wet with slick without realising. The strange heat from before was growing and now pooling in your abdomen.

The man returned back to your neck, now nibbling your damp skin in between kisses, sucking at the droplets of blood that tried to escape him. Bruises and pinpricks quickly littered over your tender throat, but it was barely noticeable when he continued grinding up into you with increasing fervor, rutting like he was already fucking you. Two hands roamed and groped your sides, but you weren’t caged in by any means.

The taxi door was still slightly ajar, the cool midnight air stoking more goosebumps over you, and in the back of your mind you knew if you acted quick enough you could jerk out of his grip and out of the door. How far would you get though, how long would you manage to run before he caught up to you? What else was this man, this vampire capable of? Any answers never surfaced, because your mind clouded any further thoughts. The arousal pulsing between your legs kept you rooted firmly in his lap, arching into his chest and hardness. Any alarms, warning thoughts or remnants of your fight or flight reaction became muddled with the growing need keeping you glued to him, although whether it was your own or the result of whatever concoction he brewed in the punch you couldn’t know.

In the midst of your muddled thoughts and heat, he’d carelessly ripped off your underwear in one clean tug before sliding his gloved fingers between your folds, curling the tips into your keen hole. A breathy moan escaped your throat that was still being marred by his fangs, accompanied by a low moan of his own.

“So wet for me, bebita.” His accented drawl was hypnotic, and his words were true. Never before had your body reacted in such a way for anyone, never ached with such primal need for another. His fingers spread the warm slick over your clit, rubbing in circles, causing you to whine and moan shamelessly into the night. You were putty in his hands, unable to think clearly beyond his touch.

With his right hand busy teasing your clit you didn’t notice when his left hand ceased its bruising grip on your ass and reached to his own crotch, unbuckling his belt and pressing his cock into you without warning.

The air left your lungs, curling into him as much as you could, pressing against his chest, using his tie to secure him to you. Your cunt needed no time to adjust, already wet and loose and pulsating with pure need, allowing him in with frighteningly little fight. The ease seemed to please him, the deep moan he let out morphed into a chuckle that vibrated in his chest.

Both hands came under your thighs, squeezing the soft cellulite as he leaned forward, smiling devilishly at your ear.

“Hold on tight mi amor.”

Those five whispered words were all the warning you were given as he lifted you up by the bottom, his cock sliding out of you with a wet pop, the tip just prodding at your hole before he slammed you down hard, his hips angling up to meet your descent half way.

The first harsh thrust set the pace as he maintained his powerful assault, fucking the air out of your lungs with a barely restrained ferocity. Any moans or gasps you managed to get out were marred with garbled words, the sounds constantly being cut off from the force of his cock. It was unnatural how even without your clit being stimulated, the pleasure of his thrusts had every nerve tingling, every ring of muscle inside of you squeezing against him, trying to keep him there eternally.

As your mind became more and more a slave to the blissful and supernatural fuck, your body was overwhelmed, like a toy being wound and wound to the breaking point, you were becoming undone. Stars were flashing over your vision, air was becoming harder to coax back into your lungs and your thighs were becoming a searing red from being slapped against his lap over and over. He was at your ear murmuring softly, yet his words were vulgar, spoken like vicious curses. Most of it you couldn’t make out in your disorientated, dick-drunk state, but one repeated phrase stuck out.

“Cum for me.”

Your body reacted on command, as if given an activation phrase. The effect was immediate, your legs filling with cotton, tongue tingling and toes curling. Your vision and mind went blank while the orgasm rocked you to your core and nearly gave you an out of body experience. His cock continued to pound into you and your pussy clamped around him for dear life whilst your thighs trembled, anchoring around the man for stability.

You weren’t aware that he’d came, only vaguely aware of his fangs piercing you one final time, his entire jaw clamping shut over your shoulder as he spilled into you. When the orgasm slowly faded and the air graced your lungs, only then did those repressed alarms pierce the fog clouding your mind. The reality of being confined in the cab with a supernatural being whom admitted to slaughtering everyone at the party dawned on you. The faces of your friend and acquaintances appeared with clarity, and your heart began racing.

He stirred from your neck, fangs retracting at the feeling of your chest thudding alarmingly against his. As your breathing picked up his tongue traced over a vein as it curled under your jaw.

“I knew you were special. You’re nothing like the rest of those vermin.” The vampire mused into your bruised and blood stained skin, seemingly indifferent to your rising fear.

“You’re mine.”

His jaw clamped over your neck, teeth piercing your flesh once again. However, in place of his usual nips and kisses, his fangs encased themselves in your throat causing blood to gush down your chest in warm, wet waves. You barely had a chance to ball your hands into fist against his chest and push him off as the fog of heat clouded your brain and sapped your strength, the same heat that flooded your veins when he first approached you. This time something else laced too, something foreign and acidic.

“You’re mine, now and forever, mi vida.”

#jake lockley x reader #jake lockley #moon knight #omiwrites

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