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sickandtwisted01 · 4 months
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Soap X AFAB!Reader
Warnings for creepy, perverted, gross Johnny with this little series I’m planning. For this stater piece specifically it’s like Heavy dubcon themes, kidnapping, threats of murder or bodily harm. Yeah, this one is a lot. What you see if what you get, you are responsible for yourself from here on.
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When was the last time your family went fucking camping?
Your father had brought it up two months ago, in a short conversation with your mother at the mention of a family vacation. Something about the idea of going somewhere nice like the places you usually went sounded unappealing to him. Of course he’d pick the last family vacation you’d be joining before moving out to do something incredibly boring.
“We could always go camping.” He’d told your mother, leaning over the kitchen island with his hands clasped together. She’d immediately sent a disapproving glare towards him, which earned a chuckle from him. “Oh, lovie, it won’t be so bad.” He’d assured her. “A little fresh air could do us all some good, don’t you think? I’ll keep us safe, swear it.”
She’d relented once your father had dressed it up as an ‘electronic free, roughing it, fresh air, all family’ trip. You understood– how could you not? The man had spent every day of his life glued to the surface of his phone due to work, and your mother jumped at the opportunity to spend real time as a family together.
That was how you ended up here, you supposed, sitting around a firepit with your lovely family. Your mother, father and two younger siblings, Jovan and Serea. Your eyes stared blankly at the flames that danced around the firepit, licking against each other in the same way waves crashed against the shore. The air was beginning to thin and cool from the borderline unbreathable mugginess of the scorching summer sun which was setting oh-so slowly above you. Your eyes shifted up towards the sky, watching as it darkened from it’s normal brilliant blue to a darker purple with swirls of reds and pinks. Crickets chirped out song notes with each flick of their legs as the veil of darkness began to surround the forest. The sounds of an owl cooing sweetly in the background, calling out as a warning or… maybe just a sign of its presence. The declaration that it was real and alive into the void of darkness.
Jovan held a stick, watching as the marshmallow he was roasting completely caught fire. His eyes light up at the action, pulling it from the flames to blow at the remnants. “Near perfect.” He announced happily, pride enveloping the edges of his sentence.
“That’s disgusting, Jo-jo.” Sera chimed in, watching with a soured look as Jovan reached out with two fingers to pull the treat from his skewer, pulling the ooze into his mouth with a grin before turning his head to stick his tongue out at the girl. “Mom!”
“Leave your sister alone.” Your mother spoke simply, easily. She was hardly paying attention, sitting across the fire with a crossword puzzle and pen in her hand. Your father sat at her side, quietly chattering about the answers at her side.
You huffed, looking away as you tried to tune out the bickering of your siblings at your side. You thought about the days earlier activities– the lake your family had spent nearly an hour hiking to. It was fine, for the most part. The walk was long, spent swatting away bugs that landed on your arms. You could still feel the itchy welts that littered your upper arms from their bites, your mother would probably snap at you for itching for about the next week. Listening to the never-ending bickering between your siblings about things that didn’t even matter. The comments from your father about ‘how beautiful nature is’ and how ‘we should all try and make an effort to reconnect with the earth’ bullshit. Your mother agrees nonchalantly, as if she doesn’t really care that much.
That wasn’t really anything of note but– the more you thought of it, you couldn’t shake the feeling of having someone’s eyes watching you. Following your every movement- you swore you could feel someone hot on your heels the entire walk to the lake. You kept looking around, searching aimlessly for something that wasn’t even there. Your father had mentioned how paranoia was sometimes common for people who didn’t go out into the woods that often. Something about… how it’s all so new, and you’re not really used to having silent predators around while knowing there could at any moment be something dangerous, stories of boogeymen who roamed the woods, campfire tales that were told to you when you were young. Those fears can still linger as an adult. Your bodies natural reaction, or something. He said it’d go away after a day or two… so you shrugged that feeling off. Chalked it up to, yes, paranoia. You had an entire week of this trip. You couldn’t give in to these weird, stupid feelings that were brewing.
Your head turned, eyes shifting the terrain surrounding your small camp. Trees, miles and miles of trees. Only a few in every direction lit up with the gentle glow of the fire's warmth. The rest disappeared slowly, being engulfed into the rest of what you could see. Nothing.
That hadn’t really creeped you out until now, eyes trained on the darkness of the trees that you could just barely see. That feeling was back, like you were being watched. You huffed, head turning away from the woods quickly. You stood, looking between your siblings and then your parents. “I’m going to go to sleep.” You told them all simply before making your way towards your tent and climbing in.
You spent the entire night laying on your back in silence, staring up at the ceiling of your tent. You couldn’t shake it, that feeling. It was beginning to suffocate you, shove it’s way down your throat and into your head. You couldn’t ignore it, and thus you couldn’t sleep. Your parents had oh-so lovingly forced you and your siblings to leave your phones at home but allowed you to bring your nintendo switch if you’d only play it at night. How kind of them, was the thought that flashed through your brain when they first mentioned it, having to suppress an eyeroll and a scoff. As if they were being generous by allowing it when they were shutting your phone off for the duration of the trip so even if you did have it, it wouldn’t work… which.. If it would’ve regardless was a gamble in and of itself. You were playing an older version of a mario game when you heard it. The snapping of a branch, your ears instantly perked up, entire body stiffening as you paused your game.
It was the wee hours of the morning, you knew for a near fact that your family were all asleep. Though their tents laid a decent ways away from yours, they were all early to sleep, early to rise. You were different, though. You spent many nights awake while they slept peacefully. Now though, you clung desperately to the possibility that Serea had awoken from a nightmare and thought to wake you instead of your parents or… or maybe it was Jovan, right? Stumbling around in the dark to find a flashlight so he could wonder off into the woods to pee or something. Yeah, that made sense. That made sense. It could all be chalked up to something that made sense, something that wasn’t sinister. It totally had nothing to do with that feeling that had been itching at you all day like some sort of fucking disease, even though your entire body was on fire. Every nerve ending was lit up, your mind begged you to move or do anything other than just sit here. You could hardly breathe as you heard the clomping of steady, heavy footed-steps. Your brows furrowed, breath hitching as you tried desperately to bite back the panic that suddenly urged through you.
It was just Serea. You tried to think, fingers gripping at the edges of your sleeping back until your knuckles turned white. You could hear shuffling, the crunching of leaves under shoes, sniffling. Deep, heavy inhales coming closer. Closer. Closer. Your eyes shifted quickly, towards the front of your tent.
It was just Serea. You gulped thickly, stomach churning harshly as you watched in wide-eyed horror as the zipper of your tent slowly began to unzip. Your throat nearly closed, entire body launching up as a hand came into view, pulling back one flap of your tent. The backs were masculine, strong with thick fingers, veins and tendons on the fronts of the palm. A shadowy figure was illuminated in the dim light of your switch's screen. All those stories came flashing in your mind. The Boogeyman, The Jersey Devil, Bigfoot, or something worse than a made-up tale meant to scare the shit out of children in the woods.
The rather large, looming figure leaned into your tent. His gaze was fixated on you, a grin spread across his features as he watched you. You swore you saw sharp teeth glint, but you couldn’t really be sure. You couldn’t really make out any features, but you could feel his eyes searing into yours. “Ye scream and I’ll gut yer family while ye watch.” He coos, it’s sweet and gentle as he enters further.
You’re terrified, shock thundering across your features as you watch him. You’re quick to shuffle your way away from him– but you don’t scream.
Smart little thing.
He grins, head tilting. He hasn’t heard you breathe since he came into view. Maybe you’ll pass out and it’ll make this entire ordeal easier. “Nod if ye understand, bonnie…”
You nod quickly, back flush against the side of your tent. You gulp thickly again, finally taking a breath. You don’t speak though– what could he expect, though, really? He’s only just first introduced himself. Of course you’d be a little bit nervous.
“Shy wee thing, hm?” He purrs as he attempts to shuffle closer. You flinch away and he raises his hands in defense. “Oh, now…” He breathes, “No need for that, sweet. I’m not going to hurt ye. If ye want a reason to be scared, I can give ye one but until then, let’s save the dramatics for another time, hm?” His tone is still in that slightly condescending tone, talking with the sweetness you’d use when talking to a child.
Your gaze shifts to his quickly, “What do you want?” It’s rough and angry but shaky around the edges. You sound so cute, trying to be intimidating.
The man shakes his head, “Nothing yet, bonnie. Just wanted to see yer pretty little face up close.” He’s sitting back on his knees, hands placed in his lap. He lifts his right palm, slow and easy. His movements are fluid as he reaches out, touch lingering before your face.
You glare at him, brows furrowed and breathing quickened. You all but recoil as his fingers brush against your forehead, smoothing back a few loose strands that had fallen out of place. “Even prettier up close…” He speaks while petting at your hair, but you’re honestly not sure if it’s meant to be directed at you or if he’s just making a statement. You realize now that the feeling you felt earlier was not paranoia… it was a warning.
“Are you going to kill me?” You whispered softly, again… trying so hard to sound strong. Trying not to cower as his fingers brush through your hair, the pads of his digits teasing against the side of your neck. Your body tenses with each touch, shoulders stiffening and breath hitching in your throat.
He shakes his head slowly, “Oh, now… I’ve only j’st found ye, sweet… I couldn’t kill ye, yet. No.” He assured, but sucked in a gentle breath. “Now… I can’t say the same for yer family, bonnie…” There’s a silence, a pause as his eyes shift towards you. “Be a shame if ye didn’t listen and something happened to them, wouldn’t it?”
Your lips purse, eyes slowly drifting towards the man before you. “... I’ll listen.” You squeaked out, breathing out shakily. “I’ll listen, just don’t do anything to them.”
He nods, “Perfect… we should get going then, sun’ll be up in a few hours and gods know we wanna make it home before then, hm?” He pulls off a backpack you didn’t even realize he was wearing, watching as he begins pulling out a few things.
You frown, “What are you doing?” you spoke up, watching with furrowed brows as he lays out a rope, a blindfold, and a gag.
“Oh, these are just precaution. M’sorry, sweet. Just need to make sure ye won’t try and run away on me. S’all. Give me your arms.” He hums, holding his hand out expectantly. You stare back blankly, blinking a few times as you watch him. Your eyes shift between his face and his hand, an almost bewildered look on your face. “Bonnie. We don’t have a lot of time– I know this is a lot but–”
“You want to tie me up?” You almost sound offended.
He huffs, grabbing your wrist and roughly yanking you closer. “Yer really testing me patience, huh, Bonnie?” He snarls as he begins wrapping the rope around both wrists. You struggle against his hold immediately, which only brings annoyance simmering in his stomach “Think m’being real nice, hm? Stop fucking movin–” His voice is cut off as your hand makes a sharp, slapped contact to the side of his face. His entire body stiffens, actions pausing altogether as his gaze snaps towards yours.
You reailze it’s a mistake immediately, “I’m sorry.” You choke out quickly, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry–” You’re basically babbling it at this point, finally allowing the man to do as he pleases. You watched as the ropes were secured around your wrists. His actions are quickened, rougher than before.
“Yeah, you will be.” His hisses back as he shoves the blindfold over your eyes, and the makeshift gag into your mouth. “Lucky I don’t fuckin’ make good and kill everyone here, Bon. Don’t do shite like that again.” He grunts midway through the sentence as he wraps an arm around your waist, hoisting you up and over his shoulder. You hardly yelp, voice muffled by the gag.
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sickandtwisted01 · 5 months
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DATE PREP P. 2A
Simon ‘Ghost Riley’ getting ready for his date with the help of Johnny ‘Soap’ Mactavish (I literally had to do this, this is so FUCKING CUTE.)
no warnings or anything, it’s really just more fluff
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Simon stood in the mirror, dark eyes staring intently at the tie around his neck. He’d already showered, put on deodorant and cologne. He picked up flowers from the local shop– the kind you mentioned you’d liked a few weeks ago in a passing conversation about how you’d used to go flower picking with your sister when you were young. Dark eyes started intently at the thin fabric around the man’s neck, thick fingers working impossibly to try and maneuver the material into whatever stupid fucking shape it needed to go– was it always this hard to tie a stupid fucking tie? His brows furrowed as he toyed with the fabric, grunting gently as he became annoyed.
“‘Ang on, I’ll help ‘ya out.” Johnny called from behind the man, making his way over as he examined the man before him. He pursed his lips, taking in the outfit his close friend was wearing. The outfit wasn’t bad– dark gray slacks, sort of dressier shoes, a button up, a blazer, a single black leather cord bracelet. “Do ‘ya really think the tie is necessary?”
Simon’s eyes shifted, a hint of worry falling over his face. There were two instances that made Simon regret mentioning the date to Johnny at all– not that he really expected the other to show up on his doorstep six hours before the date to help him ‘prepare’, the first was the cologne incident. The second was the hair incident, and now this. Simon breathed in sharply, shrugging a shoulder loosely, “‘Dunno, wanted to look nice. I told you, pretty thing, this one. Wanna make sure it’s all… perfect” He huffed, turning away from the other with a heavy sigh as he brushed his hands through his hair.
Johnny’s lips pursed, nodding as he took in the state of Simon– he wasn’t used to the usually sure and confident man being so… anxious, and even more, about a date? Simon was the type to go home with women at the bar after missions on a semi-frequent basis but the more Johnny thought about it, he’d guessed that an actual date was… different. His head turned a bit, smirking towards the man, “Been a while since a proper date, huh, LT?” He questioned, sliding past Simon and towards the man's room. “Lucky ya’ve got me, then.”
Simon’s head turned immediately, “What are you doing?” He snapped, following behind the man quickly. When he entered the doorway of his bedroom, Johnny had already opened the man’s wardrobe doors and was shuffling through. “Johnny, c’mon.” He grunted, walking in further.
“Trust me with yer life but not to pick an outfit for ya?” Johnny quipped with a grin as he held up a black knitted sweater. “Should wear this. S’cold outside, this’ll keep you warm but still give that ‘nice-looking’ thing yer going for with the slacks and the shoes. Do ya’ve a belt? Darker brown will look good with the outfit and maybe…” He turned back to the closet, “Do ya not own a single piece of jewelry other than that bracelet? A watch or something?”
Simon huffed gently, shaking his head as he shrugged off his jacket and placed it on his bed. “There’s a belt hanging on the front of the door. No watches or anything.” He spoke as he began unbuttoning his shirt, reaching out to grab the sweater, “If they think I look fucking stupid in this sweater, I’m gonna kill you, Johnny…”
Johnny’s lips pursed lightly as he tossed the belt over, nodding to the man “Wouldn’t expect anything less, LT.” He responded simply, unclipping his watch to hand it over to Simon, “It’ll be fine, ya’know. The whole date thing. Not as hard as ya think– not if they like ya, I mean.” The man smiled, patting against Simon’s shoulder as he watched the other put on the piece of jewelry, “It’ll go well.”
Simon nodded, “Mhm. It’ll go fine.” He responded simply, flicking his wrist once as it fell to his side to adjust the weight of the new piece on his wrist. His eyes shifted back to Johnny, “Lock the door when you leave, yeah?”
Johnny’s brows furrowed, “What?” He scoffed, an almost offended look on his features. “Nah, I’m sleeping on the couch. I wanna know how it goes!”
Simon shook his head, eyes rolling as he gathered his items. Keys. Phone. Wallet. Flowers. “I’ll call you in the morning. Do not be here when I get back home.” He pointed to the man, “Do not be here.” He spoke firmly, making direct eye contact with him as he closed his front door.
Johnny raised his hands in mock defense as Simon closed the door. “Fine! I won’t be here!” He spoke, humming as the door creaked fully closed and he heard Simon’s heavy footsteps departing, “…For much longer after you get home…” He spoke to himself, grinning as he made his way to Simon’s couch and plopped down.
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sickandtwisted01 · 5 months
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SIMON “ GHOST “ RILEY x GN CIVI READER
only pronouns used are you!! nicknames ‘lovie’, “pretty little thing”, ‘darling’
Neighbor Simon PT. 1
PURE FLUFFFFF
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You sit across the man in silence, eyes staring intently at the cards fanned out in your hands. Your gaze scans the cards, then lazily lingers towards Simon. He’s holding a dwindling number of cards in his large hands, staring expectantly at you. There’s a grin pulling at his lips, a rather mocking look swirling around in his eyes as he raises a brow. “Something the matter, lovie?” He almost coos out.
You breathe lightly, grunting gently as you shift in your spot. Your brow crinkles, a soured look crawling onto your features as you rolled your eyes, “Smug prick…” You mutter back under your breath, motioning towards his card deck. “You’ve got to be cheating somehow, Si.” You added with a huff.
“Yeah, or maybe you’re just shit at the game, lovie?” He quips but quickly motions to the deck placed in the middle of you that’s still pretty hefty. “Plus, you’ve got time to bounce back.” He assured, a smile quirking at the edges of his lips as he peers back towards his cards.
You’re sat in the floor, legs curled comfortably underneath your body. You look natural sitting at the coffee table in the middle of Simon’s living room– he, however, does not. His hulking figure hunched over, his lower back flush against the couch, one arm propped over the cushions. He’s always looked large in any context, but he looks like an absolute giant sitting here now. It almost made you laugh when he sat with you, but you were able to hold it in.
There’s a bowl of chips to the left on the coffee table where the cards are, it’s the brand he knows you enjoy– something you weren’t sure you’d fully mentioned. He must’ve figured it out from when you’d first met, in the empty halls of your shared apartment complex at 2:30 in the morning. It was a rather normal night, lazily trudging in from your shift at the bar you worked at. You’d stopped at the corner store that’s about a five minute walk from the complex to get your weekends dinner (four bags of chips, some sodas, ice cream and a whopping three frozen pizzas, one for each day off) in preparation for the first shiftless few days in gods knew how long. You were tired, barely even able to keep your eyes open as you stomped your way down the hallway– even now you’re surprised by the fact that you’d somehow managed to miss and consequently bump into someone as ridiculously massive and loomingly intimidating as Simon.
You’d quite literally crashed into him, a dazed ‘oof’ escaping your lips as the bags in your arms fell. The sounds of crinkling plastic, rustling paper, breaking chips, thudding ice cream against the floor and then his hands reaching out, wrapping around your forearms to stabilize you. You can’t be sure but you’re almost positive you’d blushed as embarrassment blossomed across your features, a stuttering mess as you choked out an apology, a laughed off excuse of, “Oh, shit– I am– I’m so sorry. I just–.. I’m exhausted. I swear I didn’t– honestly, I didn’t even see you, I just– I wasn’t watching where I was going.” You’d laughed out, not even realizing your hands still being on his arms, and his on yours.
He nodded to you, “S’alright. Really.” He’d assured. His touch finally fell from you, eyes shifting your face, “Trust me, faced much worse than a pretty little thing like you runnin’ into me… you’re alright, though?” He’d asked, there was a look of concern on his features, but not a trace of anger.
He’d helped you pick up your items, carry them back home even, told you to watch out and not run into anyone else in the complex and then he mentioned that he lived a floor above you, and that he might see you around. That was… six months ago, roughly. This was the first you’d been in his home– you couldn’t help the way your eyes wondered when you’d first entered the space. How could they not? Simon’s been this sort of… mysterious entity that entered your life and weaved his way in and out of it. You’d see him maybe once a week, twice if you were lucky– always quick, short conversation before he had to make an exit. It’s very… neat, tidy. Not that you’d expected anything less. Your eyes lingered, taking in my surroundings in silence. He has a nice couch, black sectional. His TV sits on a small table that has shelves underneath it, inside are some DVDs, and you think those are…. Maybe photo albums or something like that? He has a bookshelf as well, there’s rows and rows of books. Some of the shelves have a few knicknacks on them, but nothing really stands out. It’s plain, but still cohesive and somehow inviting– it must be the smallest details he added in. The ones that feel like afterthoughts but still aid to the overall comfort of the space, the lamp in the corner of the room that drowns the both of you in this yellowy-orange glow, the throw over the back of the couch and the small pillows on it. The rug underneath us, the essential oil diffuser that lets out the smell of sandalwood and vanilla.
The reality was; despite the six months of knowing him, you really didn’t know much about him but that didn’t change the fact that you felt oddly comfortable with him. The only thing you could guess was that he was military– many people in the building were, the building conveniently close enough to base to become something like home, a cheap place to lay their heads down that wasn’t on base. Simon didn’t offer that information, though and you’d never pressed to ask him. At the start of your friendship with the man, conversations were usually short, not very deep or meaningful but there were quick bits of information you’d told each other that could be considered more than a quick chat. Then, you asked if he wanted to watch a movie with you and time together became more frequent. He started suggesting cards— despite the limited knowledge you had, you said yes.
Your lack of understanding of usual card games was quickly caught on to, and you two had decided that the only logical conclusion was to play Go Fish, instead. Each time one of you ‘got a fish’, so to speak, you were granted a question. Simon had made it a game as a way to satisfy your curiosity about him and you’d just decided to play along, answering his questions, too.
Your eyes scanned your cards, humming gently– your impending failure was sticking in the back of your mind as you thought. “Got any… 4’s?” You questioned, brows raising as your eyes shifted towards Simon’s face.
Simon grunted, shifting in his spot before tossing the card down between you. He was always that way, annoyed that you’d gotten one over on him despite being so far ahead. He watched you, waiting expectantly for your question.
You eyed him for a moment. There was a slightly annoyed look on his features but it dissipated as your gaze swept over him, “Do… you miss home when you’re gone?” You asked hesitantly. The topic of his absences were usually met with, ‘ask something else’, or something along those lines. You knew it was a risky question, but still, you pushed a bit.
Simon thought for a moment, head tilting to one side and then the other as he took a moment of silence. There was something a little bit tenser about this silence than most we shared, “No, I guess not.” He replied simply.
“Really?” You questioned, brows furrowing as you sat up a bit straighter. “You don’t miss home when you’re gone, not even a little bit? You’re gone… all of the time. You never miss home?”
He huffed, shrugging a shoulder loosely as he looked back at his cards, “Guess this doesn’t really feel like home.” His voice holds no emotion, there’s not a twitch in his expression or a look flashing across his face as his eyes shift back to his cards. “Any 7’s?”
I watched intently, studying him as he answered. He gave no indication of anything with the answer— usually, he didn’t. It was hard to read Simon, easy to misinterpret his words or even feel like he wasn’t interested in them. You purse your lips, looking through the cards in your hands. Slender fingers push their way through the cards, manicured nails pinching the edges of the card before pulling it out to place it on the table and slide it across, towards the man sitting opposite of you.
Simon nodded happily at your surrender of the card with a smile as he pulled it closer, stacking it aside. He then looked to you again, thinking for a moment. It was his turn to question now. “Do you miss home?” He questioned, a playful edge to the words– a ‘so there’ subtleness to it..
You grinned, humming gently as you looked down to your hands, brows raising. The fact that you weren’t from the UK was clear– your accent was heavily American but it wasn’t something you’d talked to Simon about. “Ah, got me there, huh?” Your gaze shifted back towards his eyes with a huffed laugh. My lips pursed, brows furrowing lightly, “I… guess so, yeah. Sometimes.” I sighed gently, shoulders lifting a bit. “Didn’t know it’d be so lonely. I mean–... I moved far but… that’s not something you prepare for, I don’t think. How easy it is to slip away from human interaction when you have to make a conscious effort into maintaining it but at the same time.” Your head lifts again, eyes meeting Simon’s as a smile spreads across your lips, “But I also think it’s important to be alone with yourself sometimes… other people can become noise very easily, take you away from what’s important.”
Simon hums gently at your answer, eyes drinking you in. There’s an intenseness to the way he listens– like he’s hanging on every word. He’s silent as you go on your rant, curiosity flashing at your last sentiment “.. And what’s that?”
“To be happy.” You reply simply, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world.
Simon smiles, looking back to his cards to keep himself from staring at you the way he wants to– what a simple philosophy, was the only thing he could think to himself, there was something that screamed innocence about it. The way he actually wanted that for you, the way he wanted something so easy and simple for someone who was already so kind and sweet. “That’s a good way to look at it.” He tells you quietly, unable to keep himself from thinking about the words uttered from those pretty lips of yours. “Do you have any 2’s?” He asks softly.
Your face twists, nose scrunching up as you utter out a defeated, “Go fish” under your breath. You fling your arm out dramatically, yanking a card up to huddled into the bunch in your hand. There’s a look of annoyance at the loss you haven’t even faced yet. Simon studies you for a moment, looking away as he thought of his question to ask.
You watch him, brows raising as he fell silent. His eyes lingered on the table, features even but mind clearly working. He looked like maybe he was contemplating, like he wanted to ask something but wasn’t sure. Slowly, his shoulders relaxed, he shifted a bit as his gaze met yours, “Would you like to go to dinner with me?” He questioned, words even and nonchalant.
You paused, brows furrowing. “What, like–” Your head tilted, blinking heavily as your brows shot up, “You mean like– like a date?”
He nods, chuckling at the confusion blossoming onto your features. The sound booms in his chest, head shaking as he replies, “Mhm, like a date. There’s a nice restaurant we could go to... opened up a few weeks ago, Iv’eard good things about it.” There’s a sort of fizzling at the end of his words, like he’s nervous you might say no.
You smiled, nodding slowly as you took in and settled on the idea of it, “I mean– yeah…. Okay, Simon. That sounds… yes. I’ll go with you to dinner.” You agreed happily, the bubbling of excitement brewing in your stomach as you shifted in your spot a bit.
He smiled back, nodding. “Great… tomorrow, then. I’ll stop by your flat at… 6:45?”
“Sounds good to me.” You told him softly, “I’ll have to wear something extra cute, huh?”
“Wear whatever ‘ya want, darling. You’ll look good in anything… now, let’s get back to the game. I believe I was kicking your ass?”
You glared, scoffing as you rolled your eyes. “Right… whatever… any 9’s?”
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sickandtwisted01 · 5 months
Text
Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x AFAB!READER
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warnings/tags: pre-discussed and consensual somnophilia, no pronouns other than you, slightly unsure Simon, uhhh idk how to spell it but Simon’s being a munch rn
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Simon was a man of great self restraint– it was something he’d always seemed to pride himself on, even from a young age, he’d always had that sense of being able to stop himself in even the most tempting situations. Self-discipline was one of the top things on his list that kept him from doing anything reckless, stupid or idiotic. However, coming home to find you like this… that was unexpected.
You were sprawled out on the bed, blankets wrapped in your limbs like a ribbon with spots of exposed skin in just the right places, your stomach, your upper body, one long leg. You had on a tank top, a pair of rather skimpy black underwear and nothing else– it was almost like you’d planned on tempting him and of course, this was a conversation you’d had with Simon. He usually came home early in the mornings, around 4:30 or 5:00am, when you were still wrapped up in the loving embrace of sleep. There were other circumstances that’d brought the topic up, though. How Simon’s low sex drive fluctuated and the urge to be buried deep inside of you hit at the most random times, usually just as early as his returns home.
That was how the conversation was brought up and you were the one to mention it. “You know… you could just…” Your voice trailed off, eyes shifting Simon’s face for a moment before darting away.
“Just what?” Simon questioned back, gaze lifting to meet yours. “Oh, don’t be nervous, lovey.” He cooed gently, sensing the anxiety radiating off of your body. He pulled you closer, into his lap. He placed three gentle kisses against your face lovingly, humming as his arms wrapped around your torso, “What could I just do?” He hummed against your ear.
While his loving reassurance was kind, and seemed to ease some of the anxiety in you, it didn’t all leave. “You could just… fuck me while I’m asleep, if you wanted.” You told him softly, not daring to meet his gaze.
At first, the idea was one that Simon just seemed to laugh off. It felt… too close for comfort on the lines of what he thought was right, or wrong. Taking advantage of you– even if you’d given previous consent, in a state where you felt safe, vulnerable and comfortable just wasn’t something he really was interested in doing.
But… now, taking in the frame of your body, the way your face was completely relaxed and as beautiful as ever with the moonlight shining over your body from the window to the right of the bed… he was seemingly rethinking this. The man leaned over, placing his duffle bag down beside the entrance of your room as he came over to the bed.
Gingerly Simon reached out and gripped the edges of the plush blankets that kept him from taking in every inch of you. He hesitated for just a moment before pulling it back, taking a moment to bask in the glory that was you, your body, your presence. It all filled him as soon as he peeled the material back– this was new for him, slightly exciting, a bit nerve-wracking. You’d asked him to do this. That was what he had to keep reminding himself in an attempt to calm the nerves that had now taken place in his stomach and he hadn’t even really done anything yet.
He sat down on the edge of the bed, springs groaning and creaking under his weight. He reached out slowly, brushing hair from your sleeping face. He hummed gently, hand cupping the side of your face for a moment as his thumb ran along the height of your cheekbone. He stayed like this for a second or two, simply watching you and allowing himself to feel comfortable enough to do what he really wanted to.
Dark eyes raked over your body, his hand following the movement until his hand and gaze rested on your abdomen. You didn’t stir– always such a hard sleeper, which, he supposed was working to his favor at this moment. He crept lower, into the waistband of your underwear. The man let out a gentle exhale as his fingers found the heat of your folds, index finger prodding at your entrance while his thumb brushed teasingly at your clit. Testing the waters, seeing how you’d react. Your body twitched, a pleasured sigh escaping your parted lips. This was enough encouragement for a bit of confidence to well in Simon’s chest. He removed himself from the invasion of your underwear, moving to sit between your legs. His fingers hooked into each side of the thin layer of fabric restricting his access to you, slowly pulling them down your legs. Warmed palms followed, tossing the material aimlessly behind him.
He hummed, large palms parting your thighs gently. He took a moment to drink in the beauty of your unclothed frame before his tall frame leaned down, licking a broad stripe along your core. The sound that escaped your still sleeping body was like music to his ears, only more encouragement for him to continue. The second your taste hit his tongue, he was to work. His tongue is latched onto your clit, eye fluttering closed as he allows his instincts to take over.
Simon’s hands stayed rested on either of your thighs, placing a minimal amount of pressure as he held them open to keep his access to your body, despite your beginning stages of movement– which was not something new, you were just as squirmy for him while awake and conscious. He swirled his tongue around your clit, humming gently against the bundle of nerves. A wicked grin spread across his lips as he felt your hips start to roll against his face a bit, small whines and whimpers escaped you.
You were stirring, and by the way you were moving, Simon could only assume you’d be awake sometime soon. The wet muscle that was providing your unaware body with so much pleasure dipped down, finding it’s way into your entrance. The moment it did so, a quickened breath caught in your throat. Your hands reached out, lacing into Simon’s short locks. Your eyes opened to slits, brows furrowing lightly. “Fuck… yes…” You hissed out, back arching lightly as you basically forced poor Simon’s head to stay buried in your sex.
Your head lifted a bit, breathing out heavily as his tongue plunged in and out of your body, hips bucking against his face. “Please, Simon, please– fuck, don’t… don’t stop.” You managed out, voice breathy and still filled with the grips of slumber. Simon was more than happy to oblige, your broken words and hiccuped noises only seemed to encourage his actions.
The familiar heat of orgasm coiled in your abdomen as his tongue pressed into that perfect, sweet spot nestled deep within your body. Your brows furrowed, eyes squeezing closed as you let out a gentle groan, “That’s it, right there…” You spoke, moaning as Simon’s tongue thrust inside of you as deep as he could. Your back arched further, fingers pulling lightly at the strands of hair zipped between your grip. Your orgasm ripped through your body, a harsh breath escaping first and then the reverb of your moans. Simon’s assault on your core stopped, but he stayed between your legs, still suckling at your clit to help ride out the lingering waves of the orgasm crashing over your body.
It was two minutes or so before he stopped, and you’d let your tightened grip on his head go. He hummed gently, fingers stroking along your abdomen as he looked up to you. There was a small smile on his face as he reached out, placing his hand back against your face. He moved so he was atop of you, hovering over your body. His mouth was glistening with your juices but that didn’t seem to phase him, he brought his free hand up to wipe against his mouth, “Sweet as ever.” He spoke softly, leaning up to place gentle kisses against your neck and jaw.
You hummed back, arms wrapping around his shoulders loosely. You basked silently in the kisses, humming as you tilted your head towards him. Your eyes closed slowly, “Missed you so much…” You tell him softly, fingers toying with the back of his hairline.
He leans down, forehead resting against yours. “I missed you, too, lovie.” He whispered back, kissing against your cheek twice before moving to lay next to you. He pulled you against his body, covering you both up. “Get back to sleep, yeah?” He spoke gently, running a hand along your back. “We can continue this in the morning…. let you rest up a bit.”
There’s a small huffed laugh that escapes your throat, but you don’t have much fight. You nodded against Simon’s chest. “Yeah…” You muttered, “That sounds… like a really good idea.” You whispered out softly, eyes closing as you nuzzled your body against his side.
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sickandtwisted01 · 7 months
Text
Sub Training w/ Gaz
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pairing: DomGaz!xAFAB!Reader
CW: hints of BDSM, restraints, begging, slapping, I think that’s it?? idk.
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Gaz’ tall frame stands behind you. Your head rests against his thigh, hands tied together behind your back. The man is leaned forward, looming over you with one hand tangled into your long locks while the other sits between your thighs. His fingers pump in and out of you at a ruthless pace that makes you want to squirm. He hooks his fingers, humming gently as a high pitched noise escapes your throat. “That’s it, sweet thing.” He coos, a cheshire grin spread across his features.
His grip on your hair tightens, pulling your head back lightly. “Gonna cum?” He questions, voice quiet and soft. Dripping with an almost mocking kindness.
You whimpered, words not finding their way to your mouth in time— you nodded slowly. “Uh… Uh-huh.”
“Yeah?” Gaz’ hand removed itself from your hair, now traveling to your throat. His grip is firm but not enough to cut off your breathing or to cut off your voice. He yanks you closer, eyes catching yours. You know better than to break the contact, eyes shifting his as you took out a few panted breaths. “What do you do when you wanna cum?”
“I-…” His movements quicken, pace fast and even. You’re not sure how many fingers he’s got shoved inside you— you’re not even sure how to think right now, the only thing that’s on your mind is the building pleasure in your abdomen.
“Come on, doll. What do you say?” Gaz watched through heavy-lidded eyes as you squirmed for him, hips bucking against his hand as you basically fucked yourself on his fingers.
“I… I should beg when I wanna cum.” You breathed out, words broken and barely audible. You struggled to stand still, to focus on whatever was being told to you or asked of you, to speak.
“Yeah, sweetheart. When you want to cum, you should beg. Go ahead, beg me to let you cum on my fingers.” He encouraged gently, placing his hand on your lower abdomen gently.
You whimpered as he pressed down, hands gripping each other until your knuckles turned white. “Please, sir— fuck, please. Please make—“
you’re cut off quickly with a harsh slap to the face. You whimpered gently at the contact, eyes snapping towards Gaz’ stern gaze. His actions had paused as his eyes bore into yours.
“May I cum. Better yet, may I please cum on your fingers, sir.” He corrected, head shaking as he let out a semi-annoyed sighed, “We can do this all night, baby. Try it again.”
You licked over your lower lip, “Sir, may I please cum on your fingers? Please sir, please let me make a huge fucking mess for you, please I need to cum.” You pleaded, words broken and shaky.
Gaz nodded, seemingly happy with your fix. “That’s good, baby. Much better, sweet thing.” He praised with a small smile on his lips. He breathed gently, the pace of his fingers began to quicken inside you. “Go on, then.” He encouraged as his free hand reached down to rub circles against your aching clit.
You let out a deep sigh, eyes squeezing closed tightly. “Fuck, fuck.” You sound pathetic, you know it. The way your voice bends and breaks with each incoherent word that falls from your lips. The small whimpers that escape as you feel Gaz’ fingers curl inside you, hitting perfectly against your g-spot. He doesn’t stop as your body slumps itself forward into him, he’s the only thing keeping you upright, all of your weight pressed against him with your head rested securely against his thigh.
He can feel the way your walls tighten around his digits, can see it in the way you cannot stop moving, hear it in the lewd moans that leave your mouth and the almost obnoxiously wet clicking noises that fill the room with each movement of his hand. You’re close, just about to cum.
Gaz maneuvers his hand back just a bit, post himself to get an angle that allows him deeper access.
You groaned the moment you felt it, the pleasure was overwhelming. It knocked into you like a ton of bricks, bursting through your body almost violently. Waves of pleasure rushed over your body, panted breaths escaping your throat as You finally felt the sensation subside and Gaz’ fingers slowing. He was milking the orgasm from you, helping you ride it out until he was positive it was over. You whimpered, head shaking as you felt Gaz’ fingers continuing to toy with your clit— even through your haze, you managed to squeak out a little, “Please sir, no more clit…”
A chuckle rumbles in his chest as he pulls his hands away. He nodded, “Fair enough, darlin.”
Gaz’ head drops as he pulls his fingers from your body. He growls out lowly, bringing his fingers to your mouth. “Open.” He commanded.
Your lips part, and the moment they do, his fingers are exploring the inside of your mouth. “You’re always so eager to please.” He speaks, watching you suck on his fingers. You can’t tell if it’s a compliment or not. “Look at you…” He coos, head tilting. “You’ll be perfect for me in no time.”
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