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#Call of duty
yooo-lets-go · 3 days
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Wish you were here
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aussiepineapple1st · 3 days
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Woken with Kisses
Will see if this stays here or if it gets flagged.
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amikoroyaiart · 2 days
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Nice mask
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gasoline0816 · 2 days
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“You want half?”
(Yes I’ve seen reacher)
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shotmrmiller · 21 hours
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written on phone, excuse mistakes.
ps!ghost is spent. physically exhausted. there's an ache in his lower back that he can feel up to the base of his skull. his hip flexors burn with overuse. his head pounds, an unrelenting hammering behind his eyes.
he's working too hard to keep himself in the zone when at work. his co-stars, while so breathtakingly beautiful, aren't his favorite girl. the one with the soft, quivering thighs that glisten with arousal in every video. the one with the pretty tits and even prettier pussy that somehow takes him (technically him, that toy is based on his cock) so nicely, every devastating inch.
he can feel himself thickening at just the thought of you climbing on top, nails digging into his chest as you sink onto him, watching your face through half-lidded eyes as you finally feel the real thing. would your bitten lips part as you draw a sharp gasp? would your eyes roll to the back of your head once his tip gently presses against the plug of your womb? would you let him take you over the peak with just the pad of his thumb rolling little circles over your swollen clit as you try to sit still?
the muscles in his groin tighten, his now hardened erection straining against the metal teeth of his zipper. he rearranges himself from the outside, a palm wrapping around the thick of him when he looks at his watch.
he supposes he's got enough time to squeeze in one last wank. not like he has any issues getting to his finish line, not with your pretty pussy in his mind's eye.
pulling your page up on his phone, he slowly begins to undo the button on his jeans when he notices that you posted a brand-new video. just minutes ago, back when he was still in his driveway.
he leaves an impatient trail of clothes that leads to his bedroom and lies back, head sinking into the soft pillow, his hand lazily tugging his length when—
he springs up, spine snapping straight, eyes widening but pupils narrowing as he takes in what you're wearing. you managed to get your hands on a mask, a skull balaclava to be exact. he's worn that before in older videos.
even though he can't see your face, he can finally, finally get a look at your eyes. long lashes frame them, like feathered wings, like brushstrokes from an artist's hand. your eyes reflect the bright luminescence of the ring light behind the camera, a circular glow that encircles the center of them in a perfect halo.
if he wasn't enthralled before, (which he definitely is, he'd buy you an airplane ticket to come see him in a heartbeat) he sure as hell is now. and he's even harder than before, almost painfully so. ghost leans against the wall, spreading his muscled thighs shoulder-width apart and presses play.
it starts slow, as always. your hand wraps around the base of the toy, the tips of your fingers barely touching. he takes minor pride in that. you're not a teeny thing, he's simply bigger in more ways than one. you give it a couple of pumps, spreading the lube over it when you lean forward— your pretty, perfect eyes looking straight at the camera— and with a thumb, you lift the mask up just enough to—
you spit on the toy. there's a clear glob of saliva trickling down the plastic thing, trailing a warm path down to where your hand is. the wave of heat that rushes through his body, painting his cheeks a rosy hue with embarrassment (because he's seething with jealousy over a bloody inanimate object, for fucks sake) is swallowed up by the molten rush that courses through his veins.
his usual pink tip is flushed a much deeper color as it pre-cum beads up at the slit.
"fuck, do tha' again." he rumbles quietly. "c'mon, love, do tha' again." you've even got him talking to himself, that's how crazy he is about you.
it's as if lady luck smiled upon him because you do it again. a quick drag of your hand, up down, up down, and you lick the side of it with a flattened pink tongue before spitting on the head.
perfect. you're perfect. what he wouldn't do to be there instead.
he sucks in a sharp breath through his clenched teeth when you move around until your sex is hovering over the spit-slick toy. ghost chokes out a groan, a low noise that comes from deep within his barrel chest when you begin to lower yourself onto it.
your greedy cunt swallows it whole in one smooth movement. puffy lips spread wide as it stretches to take it all, walls wrenched apart by the girth. he bets you're squeezing down on it like a vice. ghost grips himself tight, hissing at the feeling. you'd probably be tighter.
he strokes himself in sync with the pace you've set, a slow but firm rise and fall. the sounds your cunt makes is music to his ears— audible squelching, a sticky viscous note. there's a creamy froth around the widened base, slowly dripping onto the floor like pearly drops of sweetened honey and milk.
saliva pools in his mouth, enough to have to swallow.
he bets you'd taste as sweet as you look. like a ripened fig. like the warmth of amber.
another swallow.
a familiar heat begins to flare in his groin, a quiet hum beneath his flesh, tiny pinpricks on his tender nerves. the tell tale sign of his end.
"c'mon sweetheart, come with me. let me—" he bites down on his tongue, meat between his molars when his core pulses, flaring white hot. let me feel you around me. give me wha' i want, wha' i've earned.
my reward.
he hears your breath hitch, snag in your throat, and—
your eyes flutter closed, eyelashes akin to a butterfly's wings. vulnerable. delicate.
he just knows you'd look so beautiful in your surrender.
white-hot, like a star's core radiates from the inside out, a seething inferno beneath his skin, pushing outward, pushing against the threshold— a dam that holds back torrents of euphoria. a crack appears with each stroke, each tug of his cock until he exhales a quivering breath, like fallen leaves rustling in the wind.
it bursts, cascading over him. it's indescribable— pure ecstasy. sublime. it comes in bursts, pulse after pulse. warmth covers his hand, drips down his balls into his bedsheets.
he grumbles as he gets out of bed to clean himself up, making a mental note to ask his manager to email you instead.
it's high time he got his hands on you.
or yours on him.
(+ fat fucking tip, atp he's about to buy a wedding ring someone help him!!!)
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jammyjen26 · 3 days
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You wake up early and stretch, yawning and rubbing your eyes.
You notice the two muscular arms wrapped around you and see Simon still asleep beside you.
You try to get his arm off, but he moves closer and tightens his grip.
But this is your husband we’re talking about, you know how to get out of his grasp. You lean close and kiss his forehead.
He immediately relaxes and you take it as your chance to roll off the bed.
Once you’ve done your morning routine and showered, you go downstairs and start making breakfast.
Not even a full ten minutes after you’ve left the bedroom, you hear the shower running and twenty minutes after, heavy footsteps coming downstairs.
He walks into the kitchen and hugs you from behind.
“Mornin’ Love.” He says and turns your head with his hand softly. He leans down and kisses you to give you your morning kiss.
“Morning.” You say in between kisses, soon you pull away and turn back to the stove.
“What are you making?” He asks, hands on your hips. His hands squeeze your hip and then slide under your shirt, rubbing your stomach.
“Pancakes, omelette, and hashbrowns.” You say, tilting your head back to look at him.
He kissed your forehead and then pat your stomach.
He nods and offers some help to which you accept, you both then start making the batter together.
Feeling playful, you grab some flour and draw a heart on his cheek. To which he looks at you before he does the same to you.
You two continue making the pancakes together, occasionally fooling around and making out.
It’d be hard not to tell what he wants considering the bulge in his sweatpants.
A healthy and delicious breakfast with a side of cock is your perfect morning.
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temeyes · 2 days
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simon doods + annoying baby brother tommy
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journen · 1 day
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Done for Mer May! My first time participating... don't know if I will have any follow up pieces for this AU but I hope you guys like this! 😄
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schizo-bbgs · 3 days
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meow meow ghost
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swordsandholly · 2 days
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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🫡
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worms-for-brains · 3 days
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———————————————————————
Whisper in my ear
Tell me I’m good
As I tear into you
And eat you alive.
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simonzmama · 2 days
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Babe, do you have any drink that makes you feel hot after the first glass? because I'm like that with wine, first glass, I'm not drunk but the voices inside my head already wanna kiss someone
Could you please write about a reader who has some wine and can't keep her hands off Simon?(⁠◍⁠•⁠ᴗ⁠•⁠◍⁠)⁠✧⁠*⁠。
ahhh i’m obsessed 🤤 mama i’m boutta treat you to that nice home cooked meal n a whole bottle of wine get ova here!!! for me doe gimmie a bottle of whiskey n a joint and ooo bru im grinding all up on sumones face dppp
let’s get to it doe shall we?
your eyes shifted, moving from the tv to the man sprawled out beside you. legs spread comfortably, shoulders shrugged with an arm thrown around the width of you.
your skin hummed hot, fingers desperate to place themselves upon simon. he looked so good just kicked back, all comfortable n sharing a bottle of wine witchu. yet, he was completely unaware of your staring. his eyes were focused on the tv, tongue darting out to wet his lips slowly after a sip from his glass. n you watched the liquid slide down his throat, eyes focused on the bob of his adam’s apple.
unconsciously you pressed your face into his neck, lips pressing whispers of kisses against his skin till you could feel his pulse pick up. his head coiled back slowly, and his skin vibrated under your lips, a huff of a chuckle falling free off his lips.
“what’re you doin’, baby?” he mumbled, fingers caressing your back gently before they began to slide lower.
it made your lips curl into a giddy smile, hand settling against his chest, careful not to wet him up n spill your glass of wine. “nothing, si, i’m just gettin’ comfy.”
that makes another laugh ring from him. but as your kisses work up over his jaw, the rumble of his laugh begins to die down, eyes shifting to follow you.
“careful with the wine, lo-” yet simon is quickly cut off with the press of your soft pillows against his, your head tilting to deepen the kiss.
simon’s swift to place his glass down, never breaking the seal of your tongue invading through the barriers of his teeth. his hands settle under your thighs, n he’s hiking you up onto his lap, groaning softly as your weight settles atop of him. the warmth of your plush thighs cradle his hips in a dizzying way n it has simon’s questioning the percent of that wine as his head falls into a heavy fog, a heavy need for you.
his tongue swirls around yours, chest growling under you as he laughs at your trouble of keeping up with him. although that laugh morphs into a heavy gasp as a cold liquid splashes across his chest, rolling down his shirt n soaking it clean to his body.
“oh, simon, i’m so sorry i didn’t mean to,” you pull away, breath hard and eyes running down his pretty body. the way his shirt molds to every indent of his chiseled body, the way his stomach lifts n falls in heady breaths. “lemme just take it off for you, that should help.”
be fr wit me, is this shit?? i’ve never really written no requests cept one for my baby
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notspiders · 3 days
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he's drunk :/
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On the Reverse Trope being "Too hot to cuddle".
General Warnings: Mostly fluff. Crackfic(if that's the term?)/Shits and giggles. I dunno what I'm doing. I should be studying for finals but I can't be arsed. Lemme vomit this out real quick. Characters may act out of character, poor grammar is likely. Cussing in the warnings.
~~~~
Simon Riley is drunk.
Johnny is half-supporting him, half-guiding him as he drags the giant, hulking mass into the apartment at the dead of the cold, winter night, and helps him sit down on the bed. "Aye bonnie, aw the best!" "Thanks Johnny!"
Thanks Johnny indeed. You're now trying to think of what to do with your husband.
Water has already been given. It- along with the whiskey he's drank over the night- is sloshed all over his sorry mask. You'd tug it off but you know that even drunk, Simon is very stubborn of taking it off and you're not wishing to lose your fingers any time soon.
So you move on to step two: Making him lie down.
"Simon..." You coo. "It's your bedtime, let's get you down-" You reach forward.
"Keep yer hands off me."
"Eh?"
"Only m' missus can touch me."
"I am your wife, you dumbarse."
"You're too pretty."
"..."
"..."
"Baby, please you need to rest..."
He suddenly slumps on the pillow.
Okay. Great. This is wonderful. You're not complaining or questioning why he's suddenly compliant. What matters is that he's listening.
In return for his compliance, he's gonna get cuddles. This is a win- win! He's a living heater. You're cold. Sleepy. Cranky that you're even awake in the first place, and you're going to dive right into bed with him and-
Why is he getting up?
"Simon? What are you-"
"'m not gonna sleep with you."
"Why?"
"Not m' missus."
"But I am!"
"Nuhuh."
He slept on the couch that night.
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shadow4-1 · 1 day
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I'm imagining making a fake dating account using photos of your best friend (with her permission of course) so that you can just talk to regular guys off base without the 141 getting in your way.
You manage to match with a couple guys. None of them are really up to par. There's a few funny ones at least. But just as you decide to quit for the day you receive a message from a random account specifically addressing you by name.
"Since you're in need of extracuricular activities, meet me in my office in 15 minutes."
You're confused. Who is this guy? None of the pictures on his account show his face. How does he know your name? And what office? You're on base. The only offices you know of are the-
You can hear a door slam from down the hall. Soap walks by you. He doesn't stop. His body language is off.
"Price wants to see you now."
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shotmrmiller · 2 days
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Simon hangs around grocery stores whenever he's on leave. The ambient noise is a gentle hum— not too intrusive but enough to stifle the screams of his thoughts. There's something calming about the quiet conversations of the shoppers, the rhythmic beeping of the registers that just—
ordinary is extraordinary. There is no chaos. Only peace. He tucks his work boots away, wearing sneakers instead. His hands don't hold the cold, unforgiving metal of a gun. Instead, it's a carton of milk, a soft loaf of bread. The metallic smell (and taste) of duty is replaced by the smell of sweet fruit and fresh baked goods.
(A library is too quiet; allows for the screams to echo, refusing to be ignored.)
He gets to disappear here, wander like a ghost (haha), his presence as unobtrusive as the canned food in the aisles. And he does it for hours at a time. Days on end.
You, a simple aisle stocker, don't understand why. His eyes scan the shelves but his gaze is looking at something beyond. Distant. Hand hovering over a can of beans but not touching.
He's also huge. His size commands space yet he treads lightly. Like a shadow. How the others don't mind him, don't put in a complaint about his suffocating presence is a mystery. You look around and— nothing. No one cares. But you do.
Or maybe you're just nosy.
You approach him quietly— hands in your pockets to hide the fact that they're trembling— stopping a few paces away, giving him the space his body language demands. He doesn't turn but you know he's become aware of you. There's a subtle tensing of his shoulders, muscles beneath his shirt coiling.
"Hello. Need help finding anything?" You'll take your voice not shaking as much as it could've as a win.
There's a tightness around his eyes as he finally grabs said can with knuckles stained white. He briskly walks away, heading to self-checkout.
You, in your small act of kindness, or inability to mind your own, have offered him a scrap of attention, and now he will devour it with a hunger akin to madness.
(simon being that stray dog you find waiting outside, fur matted with rain because you're the first person in a long time to feed him, even if they were mere crumbs. now he's not going anywhere, refusing to be shooed away. he'll follow you anywhere, even into the earth's darkest corners until you take him home. feral, feral, feral.)
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