#fancy soap
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Sweet Chibiusa inspired soap!
#soapfam#soap#soapmaking#cat and raven designs#candrsoap#cold process soap#soap business#fancy soap#lgbtq#gay soap#Chibiusa#Sailor Moon#Chibi Sailor Moon#Usagi Tsukino
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Athena to Penelope when Odysseus and her reunite:
#athena#penelope#odysseus#odypen#tagamemnon#greek mythology#odyssey#the odyssey#To me. he look nearly the same but she just threw glitter on him and gave him fancy soaps and made him look less tired.#Mad memes
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Fancy
Ch 2: Just Be Nice to the Gentlemen, Fancy
Previous | Next | Ao3
NSFW | MDNI
Vampire! Poly 141 x Fem! Plus Size! Reader
Word Count: 7k
Summary: A permanent darkness rests over the city. You’ve lived here your whole life - in the slums, just another human to be pushed and pulled at the whims of the vampires that run it. Another human made to bleed and crawl their way through a meager life.
Maybe, just maybe, a meeting by happenstance will change your fate for the better.
A/N: Y’all are getting updates to two fics in a row bc my Wellbutrin has well and truly kicked in. Say thank you to big pharma or whatever
A week passes. You tucked that wad of cash into your special hiding spot behind the vent above your bed. It still feels like it’s burning a hole through you. You made lists of things everything you could possibly spend it on, how much each item costs individually, how much it might help if you save it. In the end, you decided - rather impulsively - to get all new water filters for your entire apartment. The shower head and both sinks. It eats away most of the cash but you’ve never felt so clean - never realized the amount of sludge sticking to your skin until it wasn’t anymore.
The four men haven’t come back, at least to your knowledge. Most likely they’re done with you after that single meeting. They’ve gone back to Cherry and you’re back to working as a server - having meager tips shoved down the bust of your dress and too rough hands grabbing your inner thighs.
After the gentile treatment you received, though, you feel a bit disgusted. Reminded that they choose to be this way. That vampires aren’t just like that, they aren’t made like that, they choose to treat you - to treat humans - terribly. It makes your gut churn with anger in a way it hasn’t since you were an over-achieving teen sneaking out to attend protests in the lower city square.
It is what it is. Life goes on.
The train lurches on your way to work, as usual. News and advertisements scroll along the screens lining the top of the cabin.
TWO DEAD: LOWER THIRD STREET - BOTH EXSANGUINATED
DISAPPEARANCES CONTINUE TO GROW IN NUMBER IN THE FRENCH QUARTER
ONCE AGAIN THE CITY COUNCIL OVERRULES SUIT FOR HUMAN REPRESENTATIVE CHAIR
UNIDENTIFIED SUBSTANCE FOUND IN JANE DOE
With grit teeth you tear your eyes away. People around you whisper, conspire about what might be going on. As if you all don’t already know what’s happening. As if there isn’t a cancer in this city centuries old.
Nothing is new under the constant night.
Life goes on.
You sigh, quietly checking yourself in the mirror before locking up your things in the employee break room and punching in your time card. Before you can even step foot toward the main floor, a girl with pitch black hair begins charging toward you.
“You!” Cherry stomps up to you, voice cracking with anger. Her platform boots raise her up above your level.
You nearly jump out of your skin, instinctively backing away and against the wall. “W-what -“
“You stole my clients!” She shrieks.
“I- what?”
“Cherry.” The owner warns, appearing behind her. A shadow looming over the two of you. A man ready to grab the scruffs of two warring kittens. A few other girls who just arrived for their shifts stare with wide, nervous eyes.
The last time there was a fight here a girl got her eye stabbed out.
“You took them! They’re my best paying clients and you took them! What did you do, huh? You suck their cocks for free?” Her face is barely an inch from yours and a sharp acrylic nail pokes your chest so harshly you’re surprised it doesn’t break skin.
It’s your turn to fume - face hot and hands balling into fists. “How dare you! I swear to god I-“
“Ladies!” The owner booms, grabbing both your shoulders, effectively putting an end to this little spat before it can escalate further. “Quiet. Our guests will hear you. Cherry, go smoke a cig and cool the fuck off. Fancy, follow me.”
You feel a bit like a child on their way to the principles office as you follow the owner toward the bar, wringing your hands and glancing around wildly. Despite your irritation, fear creeps through every part of you. The other girls are staring - whispering to each other behind perfectly manicured hands.
“I - sir - I really didn’t-“ You stop when that same gold tray is shoved into your hands.
“I don’t care what you did or didn’t do.” He sighs loudly. “They’re requesting you.”
“But I don’t-“
“I. Don’t. Care.” He points at you in much the same fashion as Cherry before him. “Your job is what our guests want you to do. So go do your job”
Your jaw clicks as you shut it. Cherry is glaring absolute fucking daggers at you from the back room, her sparking red dress nearly matching the shade of her face. You can’t blame her. You’re taking her clients, her paycheck, her survival. It makes you feel a bit monstrous, if you’re honest with yourself. There isn’t any time to focus on that too much as you’re ushered to the private booths. There’s no reason for you to give this up, either. If they want you they want you, and it’s their fault for kicking her to the curb.
It’s your survival too, at the end of the day.
It feels eerie to walk down this corridor again. To stand before that heavy curtain again. Your hands don’t shake this time, though. Even with the added tension from your previous interaction they remain steady.
They’re seated the same as before. Simon’s mask is different - a regular balaclava as opposed to the skull. You realize that his eyebrows and lashes are blonde - so strangely soft for such a harsh looking man. They’re all dressed far more casually, it seems. All the way down to Johnny’s sneakers that probably cost more than your entire wardrobe based on the brand. John has traded his suit coat for a simple one with sherpa lining. Kyle braided his hair since last time.
“Evenin’, Fancy.” John smiles warmly. The way it makes your heart flutter is utterly shameful.
“Hello.” You smile, tilting your head and setting down the tray. Same as before. Rinse and repeat. They ordered liquor this time - bourbon, you think. Maybe scotch. Same difference. “You’ve gotten me into trouble.”
“Have we, now?” John drapes an arm over the back of the booth.
“Cherry isn’t exactly happy.” You fake pout as you hand out the glasses. “Thinks I did something salacious to steal you away.”
“How do you know you didn’t?” John gives you a once over. Blue eyes dragging down every curve and angle of your body.
“I suppose I don’t.” You sigh. “Nothing in my right mind, though.”
“Sorry about that, love. It’s for your own good.”
“Right.” The only thing more powerful than plausible deniability is actual deniability. “Can I get you anything else?”
“Can get yer pretty little arse over here.” Johnny grabs you by the waist, setting you down in his lap. You gasp at the sudden motion, wrapping an arm around his broad shoulders for balance.
“I think ‘little’ is a bit of a misnomer, there, hun.” You snicker.
“Aye, as it should be.” His hand wanders to pinch your hip.
“You’re a dog, Mr. MacTavish.”
“Och, ye wound me, lass.”
You glance over at Simon briefly, eyes meeting his. He tilts his head forward. Those dark eyes hold no less intensity than before. They take you in like they want to eat you whole. He probably does.
John must signal him - a nod or a curl of finger - because you’re being passed into the center of the booth again and set right up at John’s side. Vampire covens are simple things. Strong hierarchies that are rarely challenged unless a leader falls or fails spectacularly.
Top dog gets the chew toy.
“I like the change of attire.” You smile, tugging at the soft sherpa of his coat.
“Suits not your style?”
“They’re nice… I see so many of them, though.” You lean into his side, letting your head fall back on his shoulder. “Besides, this fits you better, I think. Matches the beard.”
You let your hand venture up to trace along his jaw, reveling in the gentle scratch of his beard. It’s pleasant. Well cared for. You briefly wonder what his budget for beard products is. He leans into the touch. You’ve always wondered how you to feel to them. Is it a gentle warmth or a scorching flame? Either way, they never seem to mind.
“You boys planning on talking business tonight?” You tilt your head.
“Ah, not tonight.” He chuckles, taking your hand and pressing a light kiss to the back of it. “Tonight is purely about rest and relaxation. Need it after the week we’ve had.”
Somehow the other three manage to melt into the background. You might not know much - if anything - about him, but John Price is the type of man to fill a room all on his own. You felt that the first time you saw him.
“I can certainly help with that.” You grin, letting your hand trail up his thigh. You move slowly, waiting to see how he reacts, and go to hook a leg across his lap to straddle him.
To your surprise, he just grabs your waist and sets you back into your seat. “Don’t need to do all that, luv. Just talk with us.”
Part of you wants to laugh. There’s no way guys like this are the lonely, chatty type. But then, as you take in his face, you can see the exhaustion in his eyes. Vampires don’t get bags under their eyes or stress lines, but it still shows. Still swirls in their irises so distinctly.
“Wanted to pick your brain about somethin’, actually.” John sighs, taking a slow sip from his drink.
You scoff. “Me?”
“You’re a smart girl.”
“Am I?” You can’t help but laugh. “What, you need help picking out some lingerie for your mistress?”
John rolls his eyes at you. Kyle chuckles behind him. They’re far more quiet than last time. At least, the little bit you remember form last time.
“Our company has had some recent… expansions.” John mulls his words over carefully, which sets of alarm bells in the back of your mind. “We want to take the opportunity to do something for the lower city.”
“Why?” You spit far too honestly - involuntarily dropping the facade of an escort. What are they doing to pull this out of you? Is it compulsion?
Just as John opens his mouth to answer you, a phone rings. Loud and piercing through the tension in the air. Simon sighs loudly and answers, speaking so low you aren’t sure if he’s speaking at all. All eyes are trained on him. Except yours. You look around at the strain in their faces. The dread.
Simon grunts something before hanging up. “We’ve got a problem.”
“What kind of problem?” John demands.
“The kind we can’t leave til’ tomorrow.”
There’s a collective groan throughout the room. Johnny looks like he wants to smash the closest thing he could find.
“Fuckin’ hell…Sorry, darling. Looks like we’ll have to resume this another time.” John sighs loudly and takes your hand to help pull you from the booth. He pauses with you off to the side - glancing over his shoulder and nodding to the others as they pass through the curtain before turning back to you. “Can I trouble you for a kiss at least? To tide me over?”
“Always.” Once again, the response is far too automatic for your liking. Then again, there are worse things than happily kissing a good looking man. Even if he is what he is.
John chuckles. It’s low and rich and causes you to lean forward despite yourself. Sometimes you forget just how alluring they’re built to be. Made to draw you in. An angler fish. John leans forward to meet you, still holding your hand in his. His lips are cool, a little rough but also gentle. There’s a hint of almost desperation in the way he pushes closer before who you can only assume is Simon clears his throat.
“Pay for a full night plus tip - as an apology for leaving so suddenly. Take the rest of the night, dove.” John smiles down at you and presses another tied roll of cash into your palm. “Don’t want my favorite girl having to scrape by for tips after we leave. Bad look, that.”
“T-thanks…” You murmur, keeping your eyes locked on him. Almost afraid to look down at the amount in your hand. There’s a heft to it that you both appreciate and are terrified of.
John pats your hand and leans forward to place a rather chaste kiss on your cheek before disappearing out the curtain just like that first time.
You’re not sure how much more unbridled tenderness you can handle.
~~~
It’s not even a full week before they’re back. This time, it’s just Kyle and Johnny who greet you on the other side of the curtain. That fact should relax you - not having to focus your attention on so many men should make it easier. Instead, it feels foreboding after the way they left last time. It makes your shoulders tense.
Why are you worried about John? A little voice in the back of your head questions. Why are you worried about a fucking vamp?
“Hello.” You murmur, setting the usual tray on the table seemingly in slow motion. “Just the two of you today?”
“Don’t sound so disappointed.” Kyle grins. “We’re more than enough company.”
“That’s what I’m afraid of.” You hum, passing out their drinks and sliding into the curved booth to get between them.
“Nothing to cure a shit week like blowin’ off a little steam with a pretty woman.” Kyle tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, his other hand coming to rest on your thigh. Dogs without their leashes.
You hum. “Work got you down? You had that ‘problem’ last time.”
“Och, aye. Been a right bitch lately.” Johnny groans, tilting his head back and slinging an arm around your shoulders on the back of the booth. “At least we got that one bit sorted.”
“It was your own damn fault.” Kyle scoffs at him.
“Oi. Maybe if you payed attention to who-“
Kyle grabs Johnny’s lips, pinching them shut. “Price said not in front of the girl.”
You glance between them. The last thing you need is to be sat in the middle of a vampire brawl. Goodbye mortal plane if so.
That seems to be enough to get Johnny to drop it, opting to throw back his drink in one fell swoop and scoot in closer to you, strong arm looping around your waist.
Kyle’s hands trace down over your shoulders. “You’re a fuckin’ luxury, baby girl.”
“Can I have a kiss, hen?” Johnny leans close, fingers tracing your jaw.
Your lip quirks up. “Can you afford a kiss? Seeing as I’m such a luxury, apparently.”
It’s Kyle who moves next - pulling you fully into his lap and pushing you further into Johnny. “We can afford much more than that, love.”
The tip of a fang grazes your neck. It’s slow, gentile, not nearly enough to break the skin. Not quite a threat.
A promise.
It’s barely a hair of movement. A slight tilt, a minute lean and your lips press against Johnny’s. His lips are cold but softer than you expected. Your hands find his shoulders, his tongue darts across your lower lip and you part for him. A well memorized dance. Kyle’s hands drag up your hips to rest on your waist, holding you in place between them.
“D’you have any idea how good you smell?” Kyle murmurs in your ear.
“Or taste.” Johnny sighs into your lips. You pull back, snickering and wiping your lipstick off his lips. He has the prettiest, dopiest smile you’ve ever seen.
“Come home with us?” Kyle asks, lips grazing the shell of your ear. “We’ll take such good care of you.”
“You just got here.” You murmur.
“An’ now we’re askin’ if ye’d like tae come home with us.” Johnny grins.
You tilt your head back, debating on how to ask about pay. It’s a question that needs to be asked, but a sensitive one at the same time. You don’t want to offend, but you don’t want to end up walking away from their home empty handed. Just as you go to open your mouth and subtly talk rates, you’re cut off.
“How’s 5k sound, lovie?” Kyle murmurs. Are they fucking mind readers?
You pray they don’t notice the way you choke briefly, body tensing for a fraction of a second. Holy shit. Holy fucking shit! That’s more than twice what you make in month.
“I’ll take that bewildered stare as a yes.” He laughs, moving a hand from your waist to knead at your hip.
They call a car. You don’t have to explain where you’re going to anyone - being pressed between them is enough. It used to be a little shameful for you to walk out on a man’s arm for the whole club to see. When you were young and not quite so resigned to the state of the world - when you hadn’t quite realized that the only god you should care for is green and made of paper. These days you couldn’t care less. They all know, and they’re all taking part in the same debauchery (or jealous that they can’t afford to.) It’s all goods and services, at the end of the day.
Johnny wastes no time pulling you into his lap as soon as you climb into the car - a massive, black SUV that still smells brand new. At least the seats are soft on your knees as you hover over his lap.
“No, no, full weight on me, bonnie.” He grabs your hips and pushes you to sit on his thighs. “Tha’s it.”
His hand disappears under your skirt, two fingers tracing up your sex through the thin cloth of your underwear. Messily grinding while placing sloppy, open mouth kisses along your neck and shoulder. You gasp and whine as he presses against your clit. Just enough to tease, always moving away before you can properly grind down on him. Fucking tease. Kyle watches with an appreciative grin lazily spread across his face.
Your eyes widen to saucers as you pull up to the building. One of the biggest residential skyscrapers in the city. A glowing paragon. One of only five you can see at all times from any part of the city. You’re pretty sure, if you could get to the top, that you would be able to point out your apartment. If you could see it through the smog, that is.
Kyle pins you to the wall of the elevator, lips intertwined with yours and a hand twisted in your hair. Yours knot into the material of his coat. He tastes like liquor and something you can’t quite place. Something sweeter than candy and far more satisfying.
You glance over his shoulder at Johnny just as the man readjusts his pants. He grins, keeping his hand there to palm himself as soon as he catches your eye.
Cheeky bastard.
The elevator stops so gently you might have missed it if not for the dinging and the doors parting. Kyle pulls you out into a small foyer while Johnny fumbles for a keycard.
You think you might have a heart attack when they slip you through one of the two massive front doors. It has to take up the entire floor - or at least most of it. There’s a whole pool on the right side of the balcony. An area that looks like a greenhouse mirrors it to the left. Floor to ceiling windows allow you to see the faux stars so clearly up here.
“Do you all live here?” You ask quietly, staring around the massive penthouse.
The decor is simple. Dark, heavy woods and expensive, rich toned fabrics. It doesn’t have that sterile air that so many vampire homes have. It looks lived in. Used. Even with the obviously untouched kitchen. To this day you don’t understand why vampire homes have them at all. A formality, you suppose.
Johnny nods. “Och, aye, but John and Si are… workin’.”
You decide it’s probably smartest not to pry into whatever “work” means. “So, the mice will play while the cats are away?”
“Somethin’ like that.” Kyle nods, a little smirk playing across his face.
You glance away, debating on asking a possibly invasive question. You can’t ever be too careful with the hierarchy of covens. “And John doesn’t mind you… having me first?”
They blink at you for a moment before bursting out laughing. Your face heats. It makes you feel childish, as if you asked a stupid question. It’s not a stupid question. It’s perfectly valid! At least thats what you’ve heard from other working girls…
“Oh, no, doll. He doesn’t care.” Kyle grins and hooks an arm around your shoulders.
“Might be a bit miffed he wasnae here tae join in on the fun but he’s not jealous like tha’.” Johnny mimics him with an arm around your waist as they pull you to the side.
The two exchange a look briefly with grins plastered across their faces before turning you to the right and leading you down a short hallway. A large, wooden door opens into a bedroom that could swallow your apartment whole. The decor is a bit chaotic - clothes lay across the floor leading to the bathroom and two walls are covered from the floor to halfway up with drawings and paintings.
You know what you’re here for but you can’t help wandering over to them and staring. They’re so intricate. Every detail rendered perfectly. Some are from the city, others are from far away places you aren’t sure exist anymore. A few portraits of the boys here and there and some other people you don’t know. A sketch of a man with scars littering his strong face catches your eye.
“Whose are these?” You ask in a hushed whisper, as if speaking too loudly will disrupt them.
“Ah, mine.” Johnny saunters up behind you, hands resting on your broad hips.
“They’re beautiful…” You’ve only seen art like this in the museums you visited in school.
“Could do one of ye. Ye’d make a bonnie portrait.” He murmurs, pressing his cheek to yours.
Your gut reaction is to say yes. Is that how you want to be remembered, though? Just another face only immortalized on some creature’s wall. A nameless face from eras gone by. Would he write your name down? Would they remember you in a hundred years? In fifty years? In ten, even?
You settle on a gentle “Maybe.”
Johnny takes the hint, turning you toward the bed where Kyle is already leaned. “Gonnae tear a hole in my damn pants if we donnae get a move on.”
The bed is huge, to say the least. Circular and outfitted with layers upon layers of soft pillows and probably the highest thread count sheets you’ve ever seen. It’s unmade, the comforter falling halfway off one side of it. Not that you need it for what’s to come.
Johnny kneels behind you as soon as you step between Kyle’s legs where he’s sat on the bed. Deft hands unbuckle the straps of your heels. Little nips and kisses trail up your thighs. Kyle reaches around you and presses his lips to yours - so softly - before carefully pulling down the zipper of your dress.
It’s so easy to let them take charge. To be a doll for them to do as they please. There are worse things in life than being delicately undressed by two handsome (and well paying) men. Their hands are far more gentle than you expected while they strip you, muttering little appreciative hums and compliments so low that you almost miss them. You stand bare before them, letting them take you in. Hands and eyes roaming. Johnny presses a sweet kiss to your cunt before standing, sending a little jolt up your spine.
He grins like he won some game you didn’t even know you were playing.
You turn to carefully peel off Johnny’s shirt. Your lip catches in your teeth as you run your hands over hard muscle and through a layer of thick, downy hair that leads to the waistband of his pants. So distracted by the sight before you that you don’t notice Kyle pressing against your back, locking you between them as they kiss above you. A shiver runs through you as you watch their jaws flex and hands grapple for one another.
Fucking Christ.
Sometimes you forget how good it is to fuck people you’re actually attracted to. Even if they are paying customers the same as the rest.
An unceremonious squeak escapes you when you’re suddenly flung onto the bed. Not hard enough to hurt but enough to bounce until Johnny appears on top of you, fingers pinching at the soft fat on your sides and laving at your neck with a cool tongue. He keeps his teeth out of the way as he moves down your body to take your nipple between his lips. Much appreciated.
“Need a taste, bonnie. Ye smell so good. So sweet.” Johnny whines, kneeling between your legs. You watch him lower himself slowly as Kyle slots in behind you, shirt long forgone and hands tracing up your sides to knead at your breasts.
As much as you want to pout at not getting to see Kyle undress, you can’t focus on much other than Johnny’s mouth diving into you. Your instinct is to close your legs at the sudden onslaught, but Johnny’s hands keep them solidly in place - spread wide and hooked around his arms.
“Fuck.” You gasp, head tilting back onto Kyle’s shoulder. Your hand wanders down, carding through Johnny’s mo-hawk. He places a harsh suck to your clit and your fingers tighten around the hair at the base of his neck involuntarily pushing him further into you.
You expect him to be upset, for a brief moment, that you’ve been too rough with him. Took too much charge. Instead he just keens desperately against you, picking up the pace - devouring you like a man starved.
“C-Christ, Johnny!” You gasp, fingers digging further into his scalp and the sheets.
“He likes it when you’re mean t’him.” Kyle murmurs in your ear. “Got him fuckin’ pussy drunk already.”
You roll your hips down onto his tongue as he flattens it against you, grinding his face into your pussy. He shifts, never breaking contact, and slips two thick fingers inside you. You whine, eyes screwed shut as you ride it out. Kyle grabs your chin, tilting you back into a kiss. All it takes is Johnny curling his fingers to send you toppling over the edge, back arching sharply.
Johnny rears back onto his haunches just as you peel your eyes back open, chin slick and shiny. His hands desperately pull at his belt and fly. “Cannae take it anymore.”
Kyle chuckles, smiling down at you. “You’d think after two centuries he’d learn a little patience.”
You smile back, quip dying in your throat as Johnny grinds his uncut cock between your folds - coating it in your slick. Fuck, he’s thick - punching every bit of air in your lungs as he pushes in.
“So fuckin’ warm.” He moans, brow furrowed and lips parted.
Lord help you, he’s beautiful. Even beyond that statuesque perfection all vampires have, he must have been gorgeous in life. Kyle is too, you realize as you tilt your head back to kiss him. You wonder what they would look like with ruddy cheeks - with faces warm as yours is. If Johnny would blush all the way down to his chest. If they tanned. Burnt. Freckled. Ran warm or cold. All the little differences that come with a beating heart.
All thoughts disappear at once as Johnny rolls his hips into you. You gasp, “Please.”
That’s all he needs, apparently, setting a brutal pace off the bat. Pushing you back into Kyle with every thrust with enough force that your teeth nearly knock together. Kyle’s fingers continue to pluck at your nipples. You can feel his still clothed cock pressing against your back, hips twitching at the brief friction.
“Fuck. Alright.” Kyle grunts, moving from behind you - leaving you flopping back on the bed with your hands fisting the sheets. You can hear his belt coming undone but can’t bring yourself to focus on it with Johnny relentlessly pumping into you. That is until Kyle taps the head of his cock against your lips, kneeling beside you.
He’s pretty. Not as thick as Johnny but perfectly proportioned. He doesn’t even have to ask or press forward, you want it between your lips. Seek it out. It’s cool on your tongue, calming under the relentlessness that is Johnny.
“Been tae long since we had somethin’ so nice an’ soft in our bed.” Johnny whines. As if that fact genuinely pains him.
Kyle hums in agreement, taking his time fucking into your mouth. “That it has.”
He reaches over to grab Johnny by the back of the neck, pulling him until their lips crash together. Johnny’s hands tighten where they hold you and Kyle’s pace picks up.
“Fuck, she likes tha’.” Johnny pulls back just enough to speak. “Clenchin’ down on me.”
All you can manage is a whine in response - body on fire. Every nerve feels like it’s pulsing, the whole of you utterly consumed by them. Johnny lifts your hips off the bed, arching your back so that he can fuck up into you. The new angle leaves you desperately moaning. Practically singing around Kyle’s cock as your climax hits you like a train. Rocking through you and tensing every muscle.
“Thassit, love, doin’ so good f’us.” Kyle cards his fingers through your hair. It’s strangely gentle, considering the way his cock now bullies the back of your throat while Johnny’s ruts against your g-spot. “How’s she feel, Johnny?”
The man in question just babbles incoherently, fingers digging into your wide hips enough that they’ll surely bruise. At least he’s aware enough not to crush you entirely. Kyle chuckles at him, the sound cutting off in a moan as you angle to take him deeper and wrap your hand around the length you can’t take.
“G-gonnae cum.” Johnny stutters, rhythm faltering and becoming more shallow as he approaches the edge. He pulls out with a choked groan, fucking his fist as he spills onto your thigh.
Kyle mercifully pulls away, letting you gasp for air. Your voice will be raw tomorrow, but fuck if it isn’t worth it when you’re getting fucked like that.
Johnny sighs, collapsing on his back. “Gi’ me a minute…”
“Gettin’ old, Johnny?” Kyle quips.
“Feck off.” He grunts, turning to look at you as you catch your breath. You can’t quite interpret the look in his eyes - whatever it may be - before Kyle is lifting you up at the waist.
“C’mere, love.” Kyle pulls you, sitting back on his haunches and turning your back to him. Your legs tremble uselessly, but he doesn’t seem to mind as he moves you into place. He doesn’t waste time sitting you on his cock. Kyle isn’t as rough as Johnny, taking his time with lifting off and dropping you onto his cock. A slow motion of your hips while his hands squeeze the soft layer over your waist.
“Fuck, Kyle…” You sigh, head lolling against his shoulder.
“Y’like that, baby?” He murmurs, kissing up your shoulder and neck. One hand moves from your waist to travel up the valley of your breasts. It doesn’t quite wrap around your throat, just rests at the base of it - index finger hooking into your necklace.
It’s a leisurely roll of your hips against each other. A break from the brutal pace before. He’s not desperate like Johnny - instead taking his time whispering sweet nothings and dirty words into your ear. Movements slow and easy.
You think, for a moment, that this is the closest you’ve ever been to “making love.”
Then again, maybe you’re just cock drunk.
You don’t notice Johnny getting up until he’s in front of you, hands on your thighs and lips crashing against yours. Already hard and leaking again after only a handful of minutes. Even for a vampire, that’s pretty damn impressive.
“Bonnie, please.” He moans into your mouth. Cool hands take yours and wrap them around his cock, setting a rhythm to match Kyle’s thrusts into you. “Yer fuckin’ perfect.”
It’s overwhelming. Kyle’s hands roam over your body as you bounce on his cock, draping himself over your back and nipping at your ear. Johnny’s tongue continues to explore every part of your mouth as he thrusts desperately into your hands. His fingers slip down to your clit, moving in leisurely circles that have you bucking forward into him.
“Gonna cum f’me, pretty girl?” Kyle groans into your ear. “Chokin’ my fuckin’, cock.”
You whine against Johnny’s lips, eyes screwed shut. He’s close again, pace quickening. His fingers roughly grind against your over sensitive clit. Someone is chanting, begging, and it takes longer than it should to realize it’s you. “Please, please, just - fuck - I can’t - fucking Christ-“
“Thassit, thassit, fuckin’ hell look at y’two.” Kyle pants, bottoming out with every thrust.
You cum with a choked cry, falling forward against Johnny as he coats your hands and moans. Kyle isn’t far behind, painting your back with a pretty, low groan and a jumble of praises for you and Johnny alike.
Your body feels like jelly, limbs trembling and weight leaned entirely against Johnny. He coos at you and soothes down your hair. A strong arm wraps around your shoulders to steady you. Kyle comes back with a warm rag - when he left, you’re not sure - gently wiping you down with a an unfamiliar level of care.
“I can do it.” You reach for the cloth.
“No, no, love.” He says gently, taking your hands and carefully cleaning them off with precision. He stops to rub the back of your hand with his thumb, something unreadable and warm behind his eyes.
“Drink this.” Johnny holds out a glass to you. When did he even get that?
“Tap water?” You frown slightly, looking him up and down.
“What’s wrong with tap?” He snorts. Oh. Right. Upper city.
“Thanks.” You murmur, chugging it greedily. The physical exhaustion begins to creep up your bones, your legs already practically useless. Keeping up with vampires is a young man’s game and you’re just starting to see the signs of aging out. “I better g-“
“Better lay down.” Kyle cuts you off, taking the glass and pushing your shoulders to lay flat on the bed.
You chew your lip. You don’t usually stay at client’s homes overnight. Then again… the sheets seem to envelope you in a cool cocoon. Calming on your too-hot skin and tired muscles. Muscles that do not want to walk all the way to the train depot. Besides, Johnny and Kyle have been so nice. If they want you to spend then night then what’s the harm, right? You’ll just sneak out in the morning.
So, you let them crawl into the bed bracketing you on either side. Johnny’s arm slings over your waist, cool breath puffing against the back of your neck. Kyle lays in front of you, placing small kisses across your face before pulling the comforter over the three of you.
There are worse fates than sleeping with two handsome men on high thread count sheets for a night…
You wake shivering violently. Between the cold air and Johnny and Kyle’s cool skin you feel like an icicle. Your throat burns and you croak out a groan as you try to sit up. Kyle was rougher than you’d realized in the moment. Johnny has your back pinned against his chest with a strong arm thrown around your waist, not even breathing. It’s so easy to forget that they don’t have to. Kyle truly looks like a statue like this. Entirely still, solid as marble and just as perfect.
You sigh, quietly and carefully wiggling your way off the bed. You don’t pay attention to whose clothes you grab - some tshirt that’s more fitted than you’d like but covers enough to get the job done. You hiss at the slight creak of the door. Neither Johnny nor Kyle stir. If they woke up, they don’t react to you padding out to the main house.
That first door across the hall is slightly ajar, a low stream of cool toned light pooling in the floor just below it. Against your better judgement, you stop, looking around before peeking inside. Not that you can make out much other than a large bed with a dark canopy pulled closed around it. The rest of the room looks barren - the only source of light coming from what you assume to be an attached bathroom.
“Lookin’ f’somethin’?” A baritone voice grunts behind you. You squeak quietly, whirling on your heel and coming face to face with Simon. Well, face to chest considering his sheer height.
“Sorry!” You croak, voice still hoarse. “I didn’t mean- I-“
“S’fine.” The corners of his eyes crinkle in amusement. You hope it’s amusement, at least. “Need somethin’?”
“J-just getting some water.. sorry to bother you-“ You begin backing away, giving him a wide birth as you step toward the kitchen. Even without inhuman strength you fully believe this man could snap you in two.
“Come on, then.” He nods toward the kitchen, stepping in front of you. You nearly protest, but opt to just follow. He already caught you snooping at best - at worst he thinks you were planning to steal. If letting him accompany you keeps you alive and out of trouble with them then you’ll gladly trail behind this behemoth of a man.
You pause by the kitchen island as Simon goes to grab… a mug? You watch him fill an electric kettle and flick it on, digging through the cabinet to produce a small packet. A tea bag labeled Honey Vanilla Chamomile.
“Y-you don’t have to-“
“How’d our boys treat you?” Simon asks as he opens the little packet with deft fingers - oddly precise for the size of them.
“Good.” You blurt, hands wringing as you shift your weight side to side.
“Johnny behave himself?”
“The picture of civility.” You snort. If leaving bruises on your hips from fucking you six ways to Sunday counts as civil.
Simon chuckles but doesn’t say anything else. Just puts together a little mug of tea for you, stirring and steeping perfectly before pushing the thing across the counter. You take it slowly, eyeing him. Waiting for some sort of tell that you shouldn’t drink this. Then another shiver runs down your spine and you grab the warm cup happily.
“Should get a heating system put in…” Simon grumbles under his breath, looking around the apartment. You wonder just how much more he can see than you in the near pitch black environment.
“Why?” You snort. “You don’t need it.”
“You do.”
You blink at him rather stupidly - brain too tired and muddled to make sense of whatever that might mean. Probably just means humans in general. They probably have plenty of women and men over on a regular basis. Even if it is just for the night. Oddly considerate, either way.
“What’s the deal with the mask?” You blurt again, the slight lapse of silence putting you on edge.
Simon just shakes his head. “To ‘ide my face.”
“Booooring!” You boo, throwing out a dramatic thumbs down. To your surprise, you’re not met with annoyance. Just a deep chuckle and another shake of his head. “Thanks for the tea.”
Simon nods and snags the now empty mug from you. You chugged it far faster than you realized. It worked, too. Your voice isn’t as hoarse and your throat doesn’t sting when you swallow.
“I should probably…” You murmur, looking back toward the room where Johnny and Kyle are assumably still sleeping away.
Simon grunts in agreement, following you back to his own door. You don’t know what possesses you to stop beside him. To turn and meet his gaze with far less confidence than you’re used to wielding. You owe him for the tea, though.
“Do you want…uh…” You murmur, glancing into the room behind him.
Simon looks from you to the bed behind him - only to turn back with those smile lines forming in the corners of his eyes once again. “Not tonight, pretty girl. You’ve ‘ad enough.”
You jump involuntarily when his large hand cups your cheek - thumb caressing ever to gently over your cheekbone. Maybe it’s the exhaustion, maybe it’s the fact that non-sexual touches are so rare in your life, but either way you find yourself tilting into it. Just a little.
“Sleep well, sweet’eart.” With that he steps into his room, shutting the door with near deathly silence behind him.
Oh.
Okay.
You stare at his closed door for a few seconds too long, a slight furrow in your brow before turning back to Johnny’s room. The two of them haven’t moved much since you left, though Johnny has somehow ended up spread eagle across most of the bed. With some gentle maneuvering you manage to curl up in the crook of his outstretched arm with your head on his chest and back pressed against Kyle’s.
These men are going to be the death of you.
A/N: I wanted to put more into this chapter but I had to draw the line somewhere so it’s going to just have to get pushed to the next one.
Part of me was worried they’re fucking too early but then I remembered I can do what I want🫡
#simon ghost riley#john soap mactavish#call of duty#cod#ghost cod#cod x reader#ghoap#ghost x reader#poly 141 x reader#poly 141#polyamory#polyamourous#captain price x reader#captain john price#kyle gaz x reader#kyle gaz garrick#gaz x reader#gazprice#vampire au#fancy au#fanfic#fanfiction#cod smut#plus size reader#john mactavish x reader#fat reader#reader insert smut#smut#fem reader
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HOWEVER. this 100% has been done before but
cod restaurant au. they're loving their restaurant with a passion, they love their guests with a passion, and when something as gorgeous as you rocks in, how could they not celebrate?
soap is the waiter that's just a little too friendly and flirty, always a bit too touchy with pretty things like you, hands wherever they can reach without making it too obvious. definitely got in trouble with husbands (and wives) before.
gaz is the Barkeeper, always witty with a charming grin on his face, always showing off his latest tricks while making sure you get a drink "as perfect as yourself". does a straw taste and winks at you when he pushes the glass ober to you, he knows what he's doing.
ghost is a little harder to tell, but I think he'd be security. making sure no one gets into trouble, and if they do that they're escorted nice and quietly. definitely escorts you back to your car, whether you need it or not. how could he ever forgive himself if something happened, hm?
Price is the chef, making sure everything goes his way back there, making his rounds through the restaurant every now and then, especially when he sees you sitting out there. he's gotta make sure you enjoy his food before you can enjoy him, no?
#i was at a fancy Italian restaurant#these fuckers know whats good#please dont let this flop#cod!restaurant au#just starting with the 141; we certainly have more#John mactavish x reader#john soap mactavish x reader#soap x reader#soap#john mactavish#john soap mactavish#gothghostiie#john price#John price x reader#price x reader#price#captain john price#captain price#captain john price x reader#captain price x reader#ghost#simon riley#simon ghost riley#ghost x reader#simon riley x reader#simon ghost riley x reader#kyle garrick#gaz#kyle gaz garrick#gaz x reader
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Velcrows
#saw this joke on a sign on my commute to work and had to draw it cause it's so them#can be read as platonic or romantic#whatever suits your fancy#i just love their dynamic so much#call of duty#cod mwii#cod mw2#simon ghost riley#john soap mactavish#ghostsoap#soapghost#cod ghost#cod soap#kazdraws#told myself I wouldnt fall down the cod rabbithole but the hyperfixation is real they are now my blorbos#cod modern warfare
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🌅💀💕
#Johnny johnny johnny.....#There's only Johnny in my head#I have johnny syndrome#john soap mactavish#simon ghost riley#soapghost#ghostsoap#cod mw2#I stole the artstyle once again#Slideshow Fancy Man In Suit Posing GIF
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#bikers meeting at the gas station#i think ghost would be a bike tiktoker#soap would ride a cruiser#and ghost a sport like honda cbr or haybusa if hes fancy#soapghost#ghostsoap#john soap mactavish#call of duty#simon ghost riley#cod mwii#cod mw2
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comforting touch
#ghost found a new fidget toy /j#u bet he will be putting his face and sniffing the shit outta soap's longer mohawk at every chance now#also soap use really expensive fancy hair conditioner and shampoo so it smells very good#ghost just beelines it#scheduled post#gummmyart#doodle#simon ghost riley#john soap mactavish#ghostsoap#soapghost
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Ive been utterly and hopelessly taken over by that one clip of leigh whannell in a bathtub so i made it into chainshipping content. Youre welcome
Can't bathe alone due to horrible flashbacks of past traumatic experiences with bathrooms? Just take your divorced doctor dilf with you
#adam uses the soap bar to wash his hair and lawrence just sits there horrified neglected fancy shampoo bottle in hand#hes def forcing him to use shit like “tropical delight” assorted fruit vitamins face wash and 50 dollar coconut oil lmfao#saw#saw movies#saw franchise#saw fanart#saw adam#adam faulkner stanheight#adam faulkner#adam stanheight#saw lawrence#dr. lawrence gordon#lawrence gordon#lawrence x adam#adam x lawrence#latenightsundayblues art tag
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gaz got soap one of those meditative mandala coloring books as a joke for soap to deal with his anger issues but soap refused to color it unless gaz joined him so ever so often the two of them could be spotted around base coloring in the pages together
#i also think soap doesn’t understand pressure so the pages get dented in by his coloring#and gaz does some fancy shit where he outlines the block he’s coloring then fills the rest in lighter than the outline#soapgaz#gazsoap#gaz x soap#soap x gaz#cod soap#soap cod#soap call of duty#call of duty soap#john soap mactavish#cod gaz#gaz cod#gaz call of duty#call of duty gaz#kyle gaz garrick#cod headcanons#modern warfare headcanons#cod mw#call of duty modern warfare#ear headcanons
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Death of Kore, frosted soap bar.
Scent: Persephone's Kiss. Described as Mandarin orange, melon, blackberry, and violet leaf! Feel the freshness of its middle notes of lavender, jasmine, lily-of-the-valley, and nectarine, before reaching the dreamy base of honey, oak, and musk.
Ingredients: olive oil, coconut oil, palm oil (RSPO), sodium hydroxide, almond oil, castor oil, canola oil, sodium lactate, fragrance, micas, kaolin clay, and biodegradable glitter.
Size: Aprox. 6-7 oz (170-198g). Because our soaps are handmade and hand cut, they may vary slightly in weight from bar to bar.
#soapfam#soap#soapmaking#cat and raven designs#candrsoap#cold process soap#lgbtq#soap business#fancy soap#gay soap#kore#persephone#pastel goth
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I hope my loved ones don’t think I buy them fancy soap for every holiday because I think they stink. Just realized I may be sending the wrong message.
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WHY DOES SHE DO THIS EVERY TIME I TURN AWAY
Mmmm soapy water yummy
#pet rats#pets#ratblr#rats#ťumbľr#ratties#čumblr#fancy rats#rat#ratposting#become ungovernable#ungovernable#yummy soap water#hikipää
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it takes far too long for soap to realise ghost won’t touch him anymore
he doesn’t avoid him, which he considers no small a miracle given how he usually treats his emotions, and he’s too busy being thankful to notice. thankful he didn’t run from him, thankful his simon has returned to him, no matter how changed he is from the man he knew. ghost doesn’t shy away from his touch so long as he knows it’s coming and he spends long nights just tracing the scars on his newly bared face; following half-remembered tracks and memorising new ones
but ghost never reaches back. he’ll press into his hands like a starved man, melt beneath the smallest of touches but he never initiates. and now, his regular touches have disappeared; no longer does he clap him on the back after a job well done, doesn’t cheekily nudge him after making a recruit shit themself just by giving them a look and soap hadn’t realised how much he’s come to rely on them until they stopped. how much he’s grown to care for ghost the way he used to care for simon
he can’t confront him about it; ghost’s fight or flight always firmly tuned to flight when it came to matters about himself. soap would’ve if it meant fight; if ghost would just put his hands on him again, he’d take his violence with the passion of a lover, wear the marks he left behind with grateful pride. but he remembers the look on ghost’s face when he’d ripped his balaclava off, when he’d stripped his barrier and his protection and spat, “i ruined you the moment i touched you!”
so soap waits. he waits for ghost to crawl into his bunk, to take off his mask and surrender himself to his touch; a touch that seems to burn as much as it freed. and instead of taking his face in his hands and worshiping it the way he has every other night ghost’s come to him, soap takes his gloved hand in his own
ghost flinches, the preemptive bliss fading from his eyes as reluctant fear takes its place. soap brings it up so it hovers between them and already feels him edge backwards. he doesn’t let it stop him and gently tugs his fingers free of the glove one at a time until his hand is bare to him; visibly shaking in the dark. soap brings it towards his face, holding firm when ghost tries to yank it back and presses into it; his breath hitching as he finally gets the touch he’s missed for years
“stop, john,” ghost whispers and it hurts to hear the pain in his voice; closer to begging for the soft touch to end than he’s ever been under torture
“no,” he refuses, pressing a kiss to the centre of his palm
his eyes shine in the dark, arm twitching as he fights himself; pulling back against his grip and leaning into him in turn. (how can he stand to put his mouth on him; can’t he taste it? the dirt and decay that lives under his skin? the maggots that swim in the slow beat of his blood; the rot he’s been trying so hard not to spread to him but he’s weak.) “you don’t know how broken i am. i’ll ruin you, john.”
soap kisses him again; thick, phantom blood coating his lips. “i’m not letting you slip through my fingers again,” he promises, swallowing it down. “i’ve missed you too much to be afraid of getting cut, simon.”
#surprise! its a continuation!#im a little less sure about this one but hey what can you do#also peep my ugly ass hyperlink bc idk how to do the nice fancy links and cant be assed googling it#honestly bless curiouscat bc ive been dropping these into random peoples inboxes on codtwt and its been going swimmingly#obviously the people that follow me follow me for mha so i dont expect them to care about cod#but this way it still gets to people who will enjoy it and that makes me happy#maybe ill make proper threads out of them one day#whos to say#coming out of my cage and ive been doing just fine.txt#talk to me ghost#soapghost#ghostsoap#09 soapghost#john soap mactavish#simon ghost riley#soap cod#ghost cod#cod mw2#we’re a team. ghost team#save post
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GhostSoap AU Concept - I know those hands
Soap's favourite way to destress is watching Ghost's videos. He never talks, it's just gorgeous big strong hands that bakes, cooks, and dismantles weapons.
Watching those hands go from kneading dough to cleaning a sniper rifle is so hot in ways he can't explain.
He has notifs on for his videos, has rewatched them countless times, and has had many shameful fantasies of those strong hands on him.
His favorite moment is a faint but deep chuckle when he was chopping carrots and one part shot off into a window by the 'thunk!' sound of it. He has it saved as an audio file on his phone.
Soap comments on every video, often the first to! Giving detailed praise of what he liked and how he loves his videos, and how they make his day. Ghost never responds to comments though, Soap suspects he doesn't even check the comments.
Soap, or 'MacSoap69' even changed his profile pic to a cute one of him covered in paint laughing at Gaz taking the photo. A delusional fantasy that maybe it'll catch Ghost's attention.
Gaz knows of his crazy simp crush, says it's sad. Soap doesn't care, he has no interest in anyone but Ghost.
However, Soap can only shoot down and think up excuses to avoid so many blind dates till he gives in to Gaz trying to set him up with an 'actual person'.
He arrives at the fancy restaurant his (pretentious) rich 'date' chose at 8:25 for their 8:30 reservation. It's been a really long while since Soap actually dressed up nicely to go out and felt good about how he looked in the mirror.
Then the asshole stands him up. He gets a text an hour late that he's in a meeting he'll reschedule, without actually rescheduling or apologizing.
By now Soap has gotten many pitying looks as he kept telling the waiter he's waiting for someone, looking around expectantly. At the text his face falls and so does his mood.
Of course. Man probably came, took one look at Soap with his rough hands, mowhak, and stupid face and decided it's not worth it.
He wants to cry. He feels so stupid.
He asks for the bill for his two glasses of Scotch. By now the place is starting to empty. He took a table on a busy night just to waste everyone's time. He plans to give a big tip.
The waitress returns but says the chef asks if he could stay just a few minutes longer. Soap is baffled. He'd seen glimpses of the man in the open style modern kitchen, kinda hard to miss the gorgeous giant who looked both out of place and perfectly in his element. In fact he'd been keeping himself distracted by watching him work and move around the kitchen.
But what does the chef want him for? Fuck...is he going to get chewed out for hogging the table all night without ordering?? It scares him but he guesses he deserves it.
He says he'll wait.
15min later the chef comes over to his table, his apron and hat off, two plates are beautifully presented but proper big dishes unlike the 'fine dining' fancy plates he saw other guests get. Did he...make this just for him?
"Mind if I join you?"
But that's not what has Soap stunned silent. A little breathless.
The hands carefully placing the plates down like an offering...
...he knows those hands. Knows them better than his own.
"...Ghost?"
"Hello, MacSoap69."
#soapghost#ghostsoap#johnny soap mactavish#cod mwii#simon ghost riley#cod mw2#john soap mactavish#the fancy ass date was graves in my mind#maaaaaaaaybe Ghost got the bouncer to get rid of Soap's date#for tactical reasons
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