thesinsoflust - Tumblr blog

[thesinsoflust]

the jailbird

prisoner!simon 'ghost' riley

a full fic based on this post

cw: prison!au, civilian!reader, pen-pals, smut,romance/romantic!simon, domestic, missonary, wife kink, size kink, nudity, tattoo kink, body worship, cuddling

bunny says: like the fic? leave a comment! really like the fic? suggest your own! reblogs are always welcomed!

it started out as a flyer at the bus stop near your house. it was for a service that connected prisoners at a nearby prison with civilians as pen-pals. you had seen the flyer often over the course of work as you went to work.

you honestly felt bad, those people must be isolated. the organization prided itself on giving prisoners a bit of their humanity back by not cutting them off from those on the outside. so on a rainy friday you took a photo of the flyer and filled out the form on the organization's website.

that was how you met simon riley, or as he was called on the inside 'ghost'. what caught your attention wasn't his face scar that ran from under his nose down to the left side of his chin, but rather his brown eyes. how intense they stared into the camera. it was almost intimidating.

but you kept the photo on your desk as you typed out your first letter to send to him. you heard of places who did it through email, but screen time for those could often be limited and to send a physical letter would ensure that it would be sent to them.

the letter started out simple, you asked how he was and if it was okay to ask what he was in prison for. you asked him other questions, like if his health was doing well, what did he do most days while on the inside. you ended the letter with a little information about yourself.

you thought it would be nice to take a few photos and print them out on photo paper to be included with your letter. just so he had a better idea of who he was talking about. once you tweaked the letter with a bit of editing, you printed it out and thanks to the Royal Mail, your letter was sent to him.

you didn't actually expect for him to respond. nor did you expect for the letter to be do detailed. it was almost three pages double sided in neat hand writing. your eyes went wide when you saw the thickness of the envelope with the stamp of approval from the prison for it to be sent to you.

simon sent you a bracelet made of string that had been braided together. he said you were the first person from the outside to reach out since he got locked up. that broke your heart. it only broke further the more you read.

he was a military man who was tossed aside once the ptsd got too intense. he had been between jobs, and it felt like everything was just too much for him. he got wrapped up in large scale theft, while it paid good, you could only rob so many banks before it all caught up. he had been in for three years now, he was thankful it wasn't a life sentence. not much was stolen, and there was minimal violence. he said that his stature alone intimidated enough people that he didn't need to be violent.

you re-read his letters and it wouldn't be until almost six months of speaking that you finally wore the bracelet. when he said, "i want to see you in it, since i can't buy you a ring." you sent a photo of you wearing it and since then you hadn't taken it off.

the letters were nice, you sent them at least twice a week. even though you two had never met face to face, and the only photos you had of him were mugshots, he knew all the gossip in your work place. he knew the names of all your friends, your favourite saturday night treat and how you took your coffee.

he told you he'd be happy to make you coffee every morning before you went to work. that comment made your cheeks burn.

he often called you his 'wife' to the other prisoners. he had your photos on the wall near his bunk. he even kept the pictures where you looked terrible after you tried to cut your bangs one night. he knew the exact location of where your favourite take out was. he said that he was writing down ideas of where to take you once he got out. "i gotta make the missus feel special."

he even made you a birthday card. his cellmate 'soap' even signed it. you knew all about the explosives expert mactavish. when you looked into his case on the news, your eyes went a little wide. this guy was.. something.

simon did admit that 'soap' had a bit of a crush on you. but he said that 'johnny' was harmless and probably just liked the photo of a woman in the cell.

"he hurt ya, there will be no cell that could keep me from killin' him. no god either."

simon remembered everything.

the way he spoke about you and to you in his letters were nothing but soft. while he had to put on a tough guy exterior, his letters were filled with gentle words. like when he wrote out that he loved you in big text on a spare piece of paper so you could tape it on your mirror to look at every morning.

"i want to be what you get ready to."

"i want to be with you when you wake up."

"i want to come home to you every night. please make me an honest man."

you knew he was a trained killer. he was in special forces before his brief stint as a criminal. he was trained to kill, but in the margins of your letters, his love shined through. despite it all, he was capable of love.

and he wanted to pour all that love into you, his (future) wife.

you two would go on to write letters every week, for almost two years. when you got the letter from him asking if he could put you down as a permanent address when he got out, you cried. of course!

it was a cold spring morning, the sky was misty as you stood outside the gates of the prison. your heart raced, you even arrived early in the hopes he'd be released sooner.

and then you saw him.

those eyes. hard and stern, until he caught sight of you. his shoulder visibly dropped and his pace quickened as he made his way towards you. before you could step forward to meet him, he had you in his arms. his strong arms, littered with tattoos, wrapped around you as he held you close to his strong chest.

you held onto him as the air left your chest from the force he held you. you clutched onto his shoulders and choked out a sob. you squeaked, "holy shit."

he pulled away from you, but still kept you in his arms. you swore you saw minimal mistiness in his eyes. he reached to cup your face. he said quietly, "soft... like i imagined."

you beamed up at him, "of course, si."

"your voice is so nice." he groaned as he then pulled you close once more and buried his nose in your hair. he inhaled the scent of your shampoo and relaxed, "i'm home."

you thought transitioning from being the only person in the flat, to having this hulking, strong man in your home as well, was going to be a bit hard. but that didn't matter when simon got you through the door. his hands were on you, he promised on the universe that he'd romance you tomorrow.

but tonight was just going to be the two of you.

you managed to get his hands off you in order to get your shoes off before you led him to your bedroom. he was close behind you, he had a hand on one of your hips. he wanted to be as close to you as he could, you two had spent enough time apart.

you couldn't even close the bedroom door before he was pulling at the waistband on your pants. his calloused, strong hands felt delicate on you. it was like he was going to break you and he had to be as delicate as possible.

"si."

"i know, darling." he said quietly as he started to undress you. with your help the both of you were soon nude in the afternoon light in your bedroom. you tried to cover your chest with your arms but he pulled your arms away and looked at you.

your eyes met and you got up on your tip-toes to kiss him gently on the lips. soon he picked you up like you weighed less than a bag of potatoes.

he placed you on the bed gently when you half expected him to toss you like a shot-put. he admired your body down on your soft covers and soon got onto the bed too.

you reached for him as he pulled you into a tight kiss. his lips were chapped and you could tease the fresh skin underneath. your nails raked at his strong back, that you knew was covered in tattoos.

you wrapped your legs around him and held him. from a moment he dropped to his side and you two held each other. you tucked his head under your chin as you laid together naked.

it wasn't even meant to be sexually stimulating, you both just wanted to feel one another. to hear your lover's heartbeat meant more to you than anything in that moment.

you kissed the top of his head, you felt his blond hair against your face as you soaked in his warmth. you could almost cry from how nice it felt to be so close to him.

after everything, you had your man.

he said in his low tone, "you feel so soft. after everything, i have you. you made every day in the can worth it." he sighed, "thank you." he kissed at your bare chest.

you replied, "i loved your letters, i have them still." you chuckled, "i didn't want to throw any of them away. it made me feel closer."

"well. i'm not goin' anywhere." he looked up at you and smiled, "you're home and i'm finally here." he pulled away and got him between your legs. he rested on his knees and carefully moved you to his liking. he sat there between your legs and waited for your command.

you looked at him and nodded, "yeah, si. you can go." then tightened your legs around your lover. you held your breath as he slowly pushed his cock into you. you didn't realize how big it was until he was fully inside of you.

"are you alright, love?"

"golden."

the two of you moved together. it took a little bit to get used to the size, but the pressure and speed of his movements made heat spread through your body. like two pieces of the same puzzle, you fit together perfect soon after. it was like you two were always meant to be.

you felt so loved by him, it was so sweet. this was your first time with him and you only had a few sexual experiences with others prior to him. but the entire time you knew each other you didn't sleep with others, you wanted to wait for your man.

"that's my good wife." he groaned as he held onto your hips, "i know, you wanted this for a long time. i bet you thought about me when i was locked up."

you blushed and replied, "i did, si. i thought about you all the time, i even had your picture in my office. i wanted this, i wanted to be with you!" you whined a little as his cock dragged against a sensitive spot.

he chuckled softly, "yeah. i thought about my missus when i was locked up. i used to jerk off to your letters, your photos. messed one of 'em up by gettin' my spunk all over it." he licked his lips, "but now i can see it every day in person."

you smiled when he rested his body against you and continued to thrust up into you. you felt the curl of pleasure of your gut get together which each of his heavy thrusts.

the kisses you shared were intimate and hot. the air of your bedroom was warmed as you made love on the bed you would share together. your soft noises together filled the air.

you clenched onto him, you dug your nails into his shoulders. they were so strong and broad that they were much bigger than your hands.

he kissed you one last time as he quickened his pace. the bed moved against your movements as you both climaxed at the same time. it was like a shock to the system, the heightened euphoria before your head felt full of cotton.

you let out a soft groan as your grip on his loosened and you relaxed into the bed. you felt yourself partially get crushed by your lover but he gave a few more earnest thrusts as he made sure that his cum shot to the back of your womb.

he pulled out and dropped beside you. he tucked some hair behind your ear and wiped the sweat from your forehead with the back of his hand. your breathing was heavy, but you were both so happy. to share your first time together felt so special.

you nestled yourself into his arms and held his hand. you exhaled contently then said, "my husband."

he kissed the top of your head, he felt complete, "my missus."

part two

[thesinsoflust]

Reader who joins the 141. (I.e something silly)

They take one look at you and laugh.

Soap tries on the usual charming disarming flirtation.

Gaz tries to ease you in, being sweet as pie.

Ghost fucking glowers at you.

Price just observes you from afar.

You have to stop yourself from smirking at their behaviour.

It’s like they don’t see anything but for the fact you have breasts.

But you disarm ordinance faster than Soap knows is possible.

You outshoot Gaz on the range and in tactical scenarios.

You sneak up on Ghost in the Sennybridge tunnels.

None of them can figure you out.

Price knows what kind of person you are yet you still one up him with your management skills.

You’ve managed to get the team to fight amongst themselves over who could beat you in X or Y contest.

You chuckle as you place tender little kisses to Kate’s lips.

“So, when are we telling them I’m your wife?” You ask as you dip your fingers below the waist of her sweatpants.

“Never,” Kate responds as she lets out a soft sigh as your fingers ghost along her clothed cunt, “I like to keep them guessing.”

[thesinsoflust]

reworked a fucked up ghost x reader piece i had posted last year and yanked because it desperately needed reworked. and to be honest? i like this version way better.

cw: plane crash, fire, a LOT of death, dead bodies, coercion, entrapment, nonconsensual kink, shooting corpses, implied acts of terrorism for vague reasons, noncon oral sex/cockwarming, murder, petplay, fmc mistaking an austrian for a german, patented 391780 abrupt ending

Keep reading

[thesinsoflust]

Price: Y/N, you'll be working with Soap and Ghost Y/N: Alright! My fantasy threesome! Price: Gaz: Ghost: Soap: Y/N:...Of people on a team

[thesinsoflust]

big fan of the headcanon that simon riley is hard to get.

if we're being realistic, he's probably gotten very good at ignoring any inclination he might have towards a person in the years since his families' murder. it's easier to function as a soldier, as ghost, when he doesn't have to carry the burden of concern for someone so vulnerable. whether it's worrying about their safety while he's on deployment and can't afford to, or otherwise repressing his darker tendencies in an effort not to break them; the extra effort just isn't worth it to him. he won't seek you out, he won't take care of you, he won't reassure and coddle and communicate.

and he's not blind, nor is he passionless. he can appreciate a pretty face when one happens to pass by, but that's pretty much the extent of it. he's gotten used to the scorch of the lonely flame that flickers inside of him. if anything, he thinks putting it out and tending to the burns left in its wake would be a more traumatic ordeal than just letting it consume him.

so for him to accept love, it'd have to sneak up on him.

it happens with johnny first. he's the natural candidate, of course. his stubborn subordinate, clever with a fixated loyalty and quick wit – who better than him to get under ghost's skin?

granted, he isn't as guarded around him as he would've been with a civilian. not as cold upon introduction because he doesn't need to be. soap's a soldier, and this is work, and he's confident enough in the sergeant's resilience that it doesn't hinder his routine. he doesn't have to make accommodations, bend backwards or wake up in a cold sweat concerned about the man's wellbeing; not at first, anyway. and such are the floodgates that allow him to embrace johnny's company.

jokes crackled over comms. sitting next to each other on the airlifter. claps on the back after a successful operation. trust in every decision he chooses to take, regardless of whether or not he agrees. he thinks about johnny's eyes, johnny's smile, johnny's fierce little pout and the scar on his chin – but everything in moderation. the perfectly healthy amount. passing appreciation of his best mate's features and nothing more. it's the only meaningful connection he's had in years, and so what if he tugs his cock to the thought of it? people have cum to less.

until the bastard gets himself shot in the liver on solo reconnaissance in cyprus, and almost dies on medevac.

because when ghost gets that call from price – soap's hurt. it's looking grim. – he's wracked with a terror so acute he thinks his heart has given up on him. it's about the worst way to find out that he considers johnny as more than a friend. this sheer desperation, longing, regret. he ponders over it in the plane, tries to scrub the dread from his being. tries to pick apart what went wrong, what makes the sergeant so special.

by the time he reaches the hospital, he's already accepted defeat. all it takes is one look at johnny in his hospital bed – features peaceful, bandages wrapped around his bare chest, mohawk and facial hair grown out – to understand that this isn't going away anytime soon. he'll just have to make his peace with it. readjust to accommodate the protective flare already sparking in his chest.

it's a hassle, but manageable. despite his injury, johnny's still a competent man. they already know how to function in bouts of high stress. they're good– great friends. all this is really is an opportunity for simon to finally dig his cock within an ass he's been eyeing for months – or at least, that's the rationale he uses to come to terms.

and then you arrive. and things get a whole lot more complicated.

johnny's bird, apparently – gaz whispers to him outside of the inpatient room, watching through the window as you fret over the comatose man's pillows – didn' know he had one. m'surprised. you'd think a loudmouth like him would let the world know. she's cute too. really, ghost, did you have any idea?

he can't find it in him to respond, opting instead to march back into the room. you're fussing too much, causing a scene, no doubt disturbing the air with the nervous energy radiating off you in waves.

"he isn' supposed to be elevated like tha'," simon scolds, inflating a bit when you straighten up, eyes blowing wide with distress.

"oh... i just thought- he gets all hot when he lays on his back like this. i wanted him to be comfortable."

he knows that he's being cruel. you've done absolutely nothing to deserve the harsh glare he shoots your way, nor should you be expected to handle it. your eyes are red-rimmed, puffy like you've been crying on the way over. no doubt unused to crises like this one. he should be a help, not another source of stress.

besides. johnny's your boyfriend, not his. he has no reason to be so territorial. he'd only just discovered his feelings eight hours ago.

but–

"are you a doctor?"

"n-no."

"then it's best you keep your opinion to yourself."

he just can't help himself.

over the next week, ghost treats you with nothing more than cold disregard. he side-eyes you when you cry, wakes you up with rough pokes to your shoulder once visiting hours close, and takes every chance to one-up you when it comes down to who knows johnny better. you've got a leg up in the domestic department, but simon knows that nothing can surpass the borderline psychic bond they've built, and he makes sure to emphasise it whenever he can. and fuck, does it annoy him that you take it with grace every time, nodding receptively as though his input is meant to be more than just a searing critique of your shortcomings.

his behaviour doesn't go unnoticed, either. gaz is infinitely perplexed to see that the usually controlled lieutenant is so quick to lose his temper around you, despite your earnest efforts to not be a nuisance, and all price offers are long, disapproving looks that have him itch uncomfortably in his seat.

on the other hand, you must believe that he's just like that – foul mouthed, disparaging, mean – because you don't take it to heart. you remain pleasant, gentle, if not a little bit emotional. never once do you raise your voice at him, or fight back when he extends a particularly hurtful comment. on the occasion that his attitude grows to be too much for you, all you do is slip on a pair of noise-cancelling headphones and spread out your textbooks to spend the evening studying on the other side of the room. not keen on making amends, or discovering the source of simon's malcontent, but not affected by it either. you're peaceful. conflict averse. a good girl.

then, you come back one day with a tupperware of cookies.

"i made them myself last night. couldn't sleep, so..." you shrug, holding it out towards him. he assesses them, assesses you, roving over your chapped lips and hollow under-eyes. when did you get to look so defeated?

"no." he looks away, back to the unconscious man in front of him. in his periphery, your shoulders deflate, and he doesn't know what compels him to add the quiet "thanks."

"you've been here every hour of every day. i don't think i've seen you eat. um–" you dodge his gaze when it shoots to you. you've never tried to hold a conversation before now, have always accepted his gruff responses as an indication to leave him alone. he wonders why you can't catch the hint now. "just- let me know if you change your mind. they're shortbread."

and that's the end of it. at least until an hour later:

you're sitting on your armchair, directly across the bed from him, staring blankly at johnny when you speak up. "lieutenant?"

ghost doesn't remember introducing himself to you. he doesn't respond, but clenches his jaw to let you know he's listening.

"he's been comatose for a while." you warble. meaningless chatter. he sees it for what it is: talking so you don't cry. seeking reassurance in someone who knows how these things go.

"hm."

"is this how it usually-"

"sometimes."

"oh."

"he'll be alright." simon adds. more for himself than for you, but your lip wobbles like it's exactly what you needed to hear.

a few moments later, you speak up again.

"he holds you in such high regard, y'know."

he didn't. his heart aches as he follows the rise and fall of johnny's chest, finds solace in it, calming himself before he rips the hair from his skull. he can't speak, can't muster a rude dismissal, or any hatred for you. not anymore. this hospital has sucked the soul from him, as it seems to have done with you.

"he'll be happy to know you've stuck to his side." you smile, stirring from your seat and slinging your bag over your shoulder. "i have to go, got an exam tomorrow. i'll leave the cookies here in case you crave one."

you're halfway out when simon replies. "good luck."

and he's on his third cookie when johnny finally wakes. by then, he's already made up his mind. it's revelation he comes to much faster than the first.

if he can't have just johnny, he'll take you both.

[thesinsoflust]

after a few dates with price you begin to grow a little worried that he’s a feeder fetishist because of how enthusiastic he seems to be watching you eat. he tuts if you order something small, telling you he’s paying for everything (no matter your protests) so you should order as much food as you want. hell, he praises you for it. you start to suggest dates where no food is involved, like movies or walks in the park, and he accepts just as happily as he did all your other suggestions, and it starts to throw you off.

finally, you get up the courage to ask him about it. he seems a little hurt at the suggestion, but also… a little embarrassed. you think you’ve caught him, that the first good thing you’ve had in a while will turn out to be just like all the rest—until he admits that yes, he does like watching you eat, but it’s not a fetish. he’s not getting turned on, he’s not looking at you like an object, he’s just proud, very proud actually, that he can provide for you. he doesn’t want you to think he’s some kind of benevolent misogynist, he just loves taking care of his partners.

you bake a sheet of brownies to share with him that same evening.

[thesinsoflust]

cw: unedited, mild misogyny? if you squint?

price x fem reader thoughts

John Price definitely loves being a little bit of an asshole. He just adores being the traditional dominant provider type for you and spoiling you, but sometimes you get a bit to spoiled. If he doesn't like your attitude he'll fuck you from behind with your face buried in his bicep, whispering the filthiest shit in your ear. " is this all ya needed love? hmm? big strong man to fuck you silly? little miss independent needs to be reminded who this pussy belongs too, yeah?" he has your face covered in drool and his arm covered in bite marks. He especially loves to grab you by the hair and pull your head back. "want to hear those pretty sounds love. Make sure the neighbors know I take good care of you" all you can do is whine and steady yourself in his arms as the sounds of his fast pace thrusts fill the room.

[thesinsoflust]

what if viking!simon x reader haven’t kissed at all since their wedding? like they’re having all the sex and stuff but they still haven’t kissed yet (maybe simon doesn’t think to bc he thinks he’s still just fulfilling a need and not seeing it as something intimate w reader, and reader is too shy to ask)

but then they finally do (maybe during sex maybe not) and it’s a lightbulb moment for both of them and he just turns to mush 🫠 like you said - it’s like a scratch behind his ear, like he realises she’s actually likes/loves him

(sorry i love fluffy slightly angsty smut to my core)

thank you! x

god I just want a little kiss okay? just a little one as a treat

c/w: sex, doggy style, simon’s wife just wants a lil kiss

he just doesn’t get it. why would you ask him for such a thing? it’s too intimate, he thinks to himself as his cock pumps in and out of your cunt from behind. too much, he continues in his head after planting one foot on the edge of the mattress for leverage as he picks up the pace. very complicated.

it doesn’t seem odd to him that the two of you fuck regularly with no romantic strings attached. yes, you’re husband and wife but you aren’t in love. the sex is just the two of you fulfilling a need. scratching each other’s itch, is the way he likes to put it

he’s tempted to tell you no. to shut down your childlike fantasies of love and romance with no remorse. but you look so pretty like this, he thinks. on your hands and knees in his bed, head turned to the side to look up with pleading eyes, mouth moving to spill out more pleas and begs for just a kiss husband, please

so he leans down, one hand tangled in your hair to keep you pinned to the mattress, to slot his lips against yours. it’s far from a loving, gentle kiss. it’s raw. desperate. his tongue is tangled with yours. no care of wether you give him permission or not

it’s only when he feels the way your cunt clamps around him in a way he’s never felt before, the way your body slumps against the mattress and melts against his brute frame, and the pretty way you moan out his name. moan out for more…

only then does he understand

[thesinsoflust]

Price: Why is Johnny insisting on filling the emptiness in his life with raccoon friends?

Price: He should become an alcoholic like the rest of us.

[thesinsoflust]

Teasing Soap for the grey in his scruff that you're completely responsible for and calling him an 'old man' (he's not, you just love giving him a hard time which he'll return in a different way) so to prove that he's still more than capable of fucking you like he has the heart of a bull, he goes to town on you all night, manhandling you this way and that. He doesn't even bother taking off his gear for half the night, but he strips you of all your clothing and leaves bruises all over your body, specifically your hips and ass.

But that's okay, you got what you wanted, and the only downside (upside) is that you can't really walk without him carrying you around.

You'll have to tease him about his grey hairs more often (you think it's hot).

[thesinsoflust]

you start dating ghost and soap gets... chummy. too chummy. ye weren't even friends before, and now every second you spend at simon's side is one more opportunity for soap to blow up your phone. sound intentions, you figure. watching out for his battle buddy. so you bear his keen involvement in your relationship with amusement and—endearment.

what can ya say? johnny makes an arse of himself, but what an arse. and simon speaks highly of him, encourages hangouts and gossip seshs, so you embrace it. a boyfriend and a bestie? say less.

soap was never the picture of restraint. three months in, though, you learn just how intrusive a man can get, and how much he was holding back. his advice shifts from preferred gifts to ghost's favourite sex positions. he asks after your dates: where'd you go? d'ye like the movie? how'd he kiss ya? care to demonstrate? and he joins in, sometimes, a dinner here and there, and at the end he shares a look with simon and goes to the guest room. ghost makes you scream louder on those nights, fucks you longer, harder.

your phone buzzes. a text from soap.

scream my name now, see how ghostie treats us ;)

[thesinsoflust]

Overseas 🇺🇸

[thesinsoflust]

brain rotting away thinking of rugby player ghost, somewhat (a lot 😔) influenced by @ceilidho’s delicious post ily

18+ fem!reader unedited. probably shit lmao)

but, maybe simon is pretty damn good at the sport. beyond the classic grassroots-type games, into tougher leagues, maybe even a contender for county or national teams

and you’re the sports reporter who trails after the team almost every day. hardworking, diligent, good at your job and—

oh, you catch his eye. how could you not? you’re stunning. effortlessly beautiful. incredibly intelligent.

your aura is made of gold, glowing bright and simon can see it. can see the light radiating off of you. god, he knows you’d be so good. such a good girl. you’d listen so well, listen and obey. well trained.

as he picks himself out of a ruck, he locks eyes with you, and you’re sitting in the stands alone. the mock game bustles around him, but he ignores it and looks at you. you smile at him— warm and aureate. the opposite of him.

and just like that, you’re his, aren’t you?

there’s a game in the weekend, that’s what ghost is training for. but maybe he’s training for you, too. ensuring those pretty eyes are on him as he charges into a tackle, or throws himself over the tryline, or wrestles the ball from the depths of a ruck.

maybe he flexes his arms a bit more, the tight fit of his shirt encapsulating the curves of his biceps and pectorals. maybe he hikes up his already-short shorts a bit more, exposing extra skin of his muscular thighs.

maybe.

definitely.

and it works. he knew it would. he’s the first person you want to talk too and— oh, you sweet, darling girl, just look at you.

bundled up all cosy-like, shivering near the edge of the pitch, the evening chill biting and unforgiving. you clutch your phone and your little notepad in shaking hands, never straying over the lines painted onto the grass.

staying where you belong. like you’re told. what a good girl you are.

you shout his name— a warm, pleasant “simon!” that has his heart pumping faster (his cock twitches in his briefs). he makes his way over to you and the excitement in your eyes makes him almost feel bad for the way he’s thinking of you.

almost.

he still wants nothing more than to spread you out on his bed, body splattered with a mosaic of his cum and spit, your cunt puffy and drooling, eyes watery and lips well sucked and bitten. begging for him. wouldn’t that be a sight.

“how are you feeling about the game on saturday?” you ask him, and he stands close to you, bordering on uncomfortable. but you don’t move. of course you don’t. the steam rolls off his large body, sweat and musk a permeating smell, but you don’t move. you inhale normally and smile up at him. what a good girl.

he answers honestly and you don’t shift your eyes from him, even for a second. not to write onto your little notepad or anything. you watch him, with pretty sparkling eyes, as he talks. gives you a basic answer. broiled down mainly to “feelin’ confident.”

and a little while later you wish him good luck. thank you for speaking with me. have a nice rest of your evening. see you in a few days time. you played really well out there. you’re incredibly talented, simon.

oh sweetheart, how badly do you want him to fuck you over the edge of your kitchen counter? the way you look at him, speak to him— how many times have you touched yourself to the thought of simon riley?

he doesn’t walk off after your last sentence. he closes the gap, chest pushed up to yours, looking down at you with a fluttering pulse and the stirring of his cock in his briefs.

“why don’t you come home with me?” he asks in a whisper. “come home with me and i’ll show you how talented i am, hm?”

come home with me so i can fuck you. claim you. come home with me because you’re mine.

and you’ll listen, won’t you? because you’re such a good girl and simon knows it.

[thesinsoflust]

istg, this just spawned out of nowhere...

idk why but my mind just said f!reader disguised as a frail man, weak enough that when viking!141 pillages the village, they take pity on "him" and spare him a bit of mercy and take him in instead.

you'd shaved your head, binded your breasts, wore your brother's clothes, which were baggy enough to hide your figure and have been silent the entire time, never uttering a word because you know your voice will give you away, so they just assumed that you can't talk.

cut to maybe a week later and they're trying to teach you how to use a blade but you're so bad at it. you land hard on your back with a groan with viking!Soap standing over you and says "come rain or shine, lad, i'll make a man out of ye." and you've never been more afraid of the glint in his eye.

and he keeps you close. tells the other vikings to fuck off when they pick on you for barely being able to pick up Ghost's hammer. puts a cup of ale in your hands, even though you didn't ask for it, but you drink it anyway.

Gaz often let's you sit by the fire when the nights get too cold. he spares you his blanket and tells you stories sometimes. his voice is soothing, makes your stomach twist when you hear him laugh. he doesn't mind your silence. only asking yes or no questions to communicate and you answer with a nod or the shake of your head and sighing in relief when you tell a few white lies.

you tend to stay away from Ghost and the leader of the vikings, chief Price, mostly because you're sure that if they look too closely, they might suss out your rouse but occasionally, you do run into them sometimes.

Ghost saw you fishing one day and silently often traded stuff for fish with you. you don't know why he does it, seeing as you know that he's capable of hunting a whole deer by himself. but you don't question it. you needed things; new clothes, a knife, a book he got from the local traders.

you never look Price in the eye. or try not to. he's not sure what to make of you. the weak little man whom his two Sergeants took pity on to keep around like a little pet. he merely hums as he watches you around his men. watches the way you flinch when Soap smacks your back when he laughs all too loudly. watches the way your brows furrow when you listen to Gaz telling you something silly or something important. watches the way you keep a healthy distance away from Ghost, even when the giant of a man seems just as drawn to you as everyone else.

he watches with an eye that sometimes makes you think he knows.

they don't let you cook, thankfully, something about not trusting you enough not to poison them because they did essentially kill your entire village. smart. and here you were planning to put poisonous mushrooms in their soup. you just stick to fishing and foraging for plants your mother taught you about for food because you can't constantly rely on the vikings to feed you.

you're on your own. trying to find a solid way out of this alive and unharmed. you know your disguise won't hold up forever, sooner or later, you're going to get caught. there's hardly any time to mourn all you've lost because you have to keep up the facade. it takes every ounce of your strength to not bathe every day and to avoid smelling like a woman. it takes everything in you not to let your hair grow back and you hate nicking your skin every time you shave it off. the only time you feel like you can lower your guard is when you're alone in the forest when you're picking wild berries.

you saw Gaz carrying a few maps and you thought of stealing one for when you escape so you at least know where you were going when you do. but for now, you keep your head down and lay low. you've made it this far. a good few months with them being non the wiser.

you've been luckier than most, having the gods give you the strength to keep going and to have been spared the fate of what vikings do to the women they steal from villages. you've seen it. one had been thrown on the mud while Soap tore her clothes off and laughed maniacally when she squealed and tried to shove him off.

the others watched and they revelled in taking turns. that night had reminded you that Gaz might have a pretty face but his teeth are still sharp, even when he smiles and they're stained with blood. it took every ounce of you not to do something, not to step in and keep it stepping for your own survival.

the months were getting colder. winter was coming and you can barely survive on your own. you made it another month before they started hanging around you. Ghost shadowed your morning walks. Gaz kept you company as you went fishing. Soap brought you to see more friendly duels. Price made you sit next to him during feasts. the closer they were, the more you felt like time was running out.

things took a turn when Soap decided to accompany you through the forest for foraging. he didn't have a clue about which plants to pick and which ones not to touch, so you just point to the ones you needed since he insistent upon helping you.

except, you turned around for five minutes to grab a few mushrooms. and when you turned around, Soap was nearing a bush, picking a few dark berries. knowing him, he was going to eat a few.

but you know that bush. you avoid it for a good reason. eat just one berry and you'll be dead in minutes.

so the terror gripped you when Soap slowly brings a handful to his mouth and you. just. panic.

"stop!"

your scream tore through the forest, frightening the birds as they took off from the trees. you stare at him in horror. he stares at you, equally as wide eyed while the berries were mere inches from his mouth.

his death wouldn't bode well for you. the others would blame you for it. they'd hunt you down and make your end slow and painful. you can't have that.

but you've just exposed yourself to the enemy.

"i fucking knew it." he smirks, dropping them to the ground. he takes a step towards you, you take one back. "i knew it— i knew ye were a bonnie lass—"

you turn and run as fast as you can. you forget about all of your stuff and you run as far as your legs can carry you.

you somehow run past Gaz, who'd been carrying a bundle of wood and he wonders for a second why you were in a hurry before he hears, "don't let her get away!"

and him being closer, he drops the wood, breaks into a sprint and manages you tackle you to the ground. he grunts as you struggle under him, pinning you down when you try to escape his grasp. but he hadn't been sure if he heard Soap correctly, his gaze veering to him. "her?"

your hands are tied behind your back and you're made to sit on your knees. Gaz looks at you with confusion, trying to make sense of Soap's words.

"got nothin' tae say now, bonnie lass?" the man grins, leaning closer to your face. you clench your jaw shut. "no?"

"have you lost your mind?" Gaz shoves at him. "that's not a woman."

"wanna check just tae be sure?"

Soap's grin is directed at Gaz, and the latter catches the horror seeping into your eyes. Gaz drops on his knees beside you and you try to worm out of his grasp as he tries to reach under the layers of your fur coat and shirt.

your face burning hotly as you move away from him, but he brings you back. you couldn't take it anymore when he reaches your binded chest. "no, no, alright! stop!"

his cold hand had been splayed on your belly as he stopped. he's shocked. you can see it on his face before you look down. he peels his hand out from under your clothes.

it's a brief moment before he yelled, "hang on, you can talk?!"

you can't tell if his teeth are chattering if he's seething as you all make your way back to the chief's tent. Soap had thrown you over his shoulder whilst Gaz walked behind, glaring at you the whole way there.

Price raised his eyebrow when Soap bounded in with a boisterous voice and explained everything that had happened.

"can't believe she went on for months and we didn't even realize it." Gaz muttered, sat in a corner and crossed his arms.

"hiding in plain sight." Ghost replies beside him, his eyes have been fixed on you ever since you were carried all the way back to Price's tent. "smart girl."

Price tells Soap to untie you. it's not like you'd get away from them. so you stay put when the rope is cut loose and the room falls into a quiet hush as they watch you rub your sore wrists. you flinch when the chief reaches for your hands to get a closer look at them.

he studies your palms in a long silence. there's not a hint of his thoughts, not bad or good. you're unsure of what to say when his eyes find yours. it's the first time you've held his gaze for this long. the first time you've truly taken the time to see the hardened wall in his blue eyes.

"what's your name?" he asks, letting your hands fall back on your knees.

you don't want to accept defeat yet. but hopelessness seeps in your veins as you look down and offer a quiet utter of your name.

he hummed, leaning back. "pretty name."

Soap leaned closer to you, his hand jerking at the collar of your shirt. "mind if i take a peek—"

you reacted violently, swinging your elbow as hard as you could. you heard a sickening crunch and a yelp when you took off but you were yanked by the back of your coat and held down. Ghost looks down at you in slight amusement as he pinned your wrist down.

"fuck." Soap groaned, holding his bleeding nose. still, he laughed, blood dripping into his mouth, surprised by your sheer act of defiance. "good one, lass. we taught ye well."

"smart girl." Ghost added, his head tilting. "very smart girl, having us all fooled."

you say nothing. keeping your mouth shut was your best option for survival. no, mercy, at the very least. the slightest bit they can spare now is all you can hope for.

"quiet as a mouse, eh?"

Price, Gaz and Soap stand over you. you feel the tears welling like a dam of boiling hot water in your eyes.

"that's alright." he smiles darkly. "we have all night to make you scream."

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offer a note in the picklejar

[thesinsoflust]

oh glossy.. this thought must be shared. and i'm sharing it with you.

so, i was on twitter and seen this porn thing, where a man uses a body fleshlight and hides it under blankets, and then the girl walks in, seeing the fleshlight and basically replaces the fleshlight with herself. yeah, here me out with pornstar johnny doing that. (i’m gripping my sheets as i think about this. girl. 🫣)

like, yes it’s cringy but because it’s trending - your director NEEDS to post something about this new trend. so, of course johnny; someone who you’ve seen on multiple sets before; volunteers as he hears your director complain about the lack of men that want to do it.

the scene is set where johnny and you are roommates. living in an apartment and johnny has pent up frustration and uses it on his new body fleshlight he bought with his well-earned money. but, the poor man’s been almost going at that thing all hours. so he needs a drink and some food. so he dresses back up with a fat raging hard-on and goes to the kitchen.

you; pool ol’ you. you walked in because you needed johnnys charger, wearing some booty starts and a very large t-shirt. you noticed the fleshlight and gasped, dropping your phone before scattering to pick it up. you call out because you and johnny both have bathrooms in your rooms. and he isn’t there.

in the scene, you and johnny have sexual tension and finally you have this time to replace the thing with yourself. you rip off your clothing and get settled, covering your legs with extra sheets and covering yourself, hips and above underneath the sheets. now you just wait.

few minutes pass and you hear a grunt, a click of the door, with a noise that sounds familiar to a lock clicking. johnny steps closer to your body, grabbing at your hips. “hm. plushy.” johnny thinks, maybe it’s from that break he took and returned with a fresh mind. but he plunges his fingers into your sticky cunt. grabbing at your waist and pushing your hips down. you bite the blanket to hold back a moan as johnny voices his thoughts out on the so called “doll”

“fuckin’ like tha’ ya’ dirty slag. no’ gonnae take pity on ye’.” he says as he spits at your cunt and your eyes roll back. you think to yourself, fuck! he’s good at this. you’ve mostly had to take your orgasm’s because well.. men weren’t the best at giving you pleasure. you tried hard to stay on script but fuck his fingers plotting into you from behind is fucking fantastic.

your head begins to shake before you squirted in his fingers. not meaning to but his rough fat fingers felt too good for your poor pussy :( “wha’ the fuck!?” he exclaims and undos the sheets and you turn your whole body around, gulping the spit that gathered in your mouth. “j-john! hey, yeah - sorry.. may - may have gotten distracted.” you smile at him with pleading eyes and he shakes his head with furrowed brows.

“y’kno’.” he grabs your hips and pulls you closer to his throbbing dick that’s still in his sticky and sweaty boxers. “maybe ye’ shoul’ be my lil’ toy from now on.” he grabs your thighs and pushed them close to your chest and goes down on you, quick and ruthless. you whine and whimper, your still trying to come down from the feeling of squirting on his fingers and he wants another one from you.

“fuckin’ addictin’ this pussy is.” he grumbles, and you lock your thighs around his head, orgasm coming quick. before you could even say anything, your whimpers and moans gained a higher pitch and you came, once again, all over his face. he lapped up your juices and your clit. sucking hard on your clit when he comes up.

the both of you breath in and out heavily. “gonnae take my cock now like a good slag, aye?” and you nod your head, wanting his thick cock in your cunt.

he grabs his boxers and pull them enough down to reveal his cock and balls and you shamelessly stare. his full balls from not being able to come in that doll, saving it all up for you, throbbing tip that has globs of pre rolling down his shaft. fucking thick he is. your not sure if you can take all that but he just rubs your sides that isn’t visible to the camera, most likely trying to comfort you with his actions as he isn’t able to with his words.

you spread you thighs a bit wider. looking at him with a little worried expression but he just kisses your forehead. grabbing his cock and pushing his tip into your entrance and you groan. a ‘pop’ like sound being heard before your moan. “shh - shh. can take it bonnie lass. ye’ can, just gotta stretch that pretty thang out.”

and fuck it feels good. too good for a cock. stretches you right and hits that good spot when he finally halts. the base of his cock inside you completely. and when the camera is zoomed in you nod at him, indicating to move and he does. fat dick just moving in and out as he groans loudly while you whine his name and whimper out noises of pleasure.

all you know is that you blanked for who knows how long to be greeted with johnny rubbing your back and humming to you. fuck that was some good dick.

(i didn’t know how to end this. anyways, here glossy. you don’t need to add-on. just needs to be said.)

FANGS WHAT THE FUCKKKKK 😭😭😭 don’t worry at all about the concept being cringe (to be cringe is to be free)! IT. IS. SO. HOT. idk what it is about this ask but the insp just FLEW right onto the paper (screen?) so thank you! i promise im working on your rudy ask 😭

18+ no minors or ageless bios!

(these thoughts can apply to you two being porn stars or just the scenario in general! either way 😁 also i accidentally wrote this with reader being already on her back instead of her stomach, im sorry 😭)

may i suggest that he buys a sex doll/body fleshlight that matches your description? ie, if you’re curvy he would buy one with thicker thighs that resemble yours.

that works even more in your favor when you’re pretending to be the doll, but the similarities aren’t lost on you - sure, it could be a coincidence but if the little moans of your name at night (ones you convinced yourself you were imagining) were anything to go by, he did it on purpose.

imagine yourself covering your mouth in excitement and anticipation when you hear him walk into the room, hearing him unbuckle his belt and kick off his pants. it was obvious he was pent up and desperate, ready to fuck his “doll” into the mattress like he’s done many times before.

you could hear your heart pound as you felt the mattress dip behind you. meanwhile, he’s got that wolfish grin painted on his lips as he pulls out his already throbbing cock from his boxers. he gives it a few slow, dry strokes before finally groping the “dolls” thighs and groaning in approval at their softness and plushness.

“mmm, so soft and sweet.” just like you, he thought.

meanwhile, your breath was hitching as you felt him grope and squeeze at your thighs without abandon - inching his way up to your already dripping cunt. you were just throbbing. so fucking desperate for your roommate to touch you.

he didn’t waste any time violating his “dolls” cunt, only spending a few seconds tracing your wet slit before easing two thick fingers in. you could hear him hum in approval at how easy his fingers slid in, all while you were busy biting the fabric of the blanket. you could also hear how wet you were from the obscene sounds his fingers were making with your juices.

he didn’t go gentle or quick with his fingers. why would he? he was just using a “doll” after all, right? no need to worry about overstimulating or anything.

“y’ feel so fuckin’ warm. so soft.”

he took his sweet time feeling along your warm walls, and he even curled his fingers in search of that special spot — even though his doll wouldn’t have any g-spot. (that’s what he thought, at least.)

“what a fuckin’ tease. walk-in’ around with some dumb lads while i’m in here, ready to fuck ye’ like ye’ need.” he spits on your mound, watching his saliva trickle down to your soaking wet folds. you gasp against the fabric at both his words, all dark and husky, and the feeling of his spit trickling down to your cunt. you’ve never gotten this close to cumming in such a short amount of time.

he slipped a third finger in, scissoring his fingers inside your cunt while he plunges them in and out - stretching you open for his cock. he uses the rough pad of his thumb to rub at your swollen clit while he finger fucks you.

he just kept doing it, curling and curling while plunging in and out. little did he know, he had found that spot just like he wanted. and he was abusing it. as if somewhere deep in his subconscious, he knew it was really you under the covers and he knew that was your g-spot.

under the blankets, you were gasping and biting the blanket until your jaw hurt. you were so fucking close. all you needed was a few more pulses against your g-spot and his thumb rubbing on your clit to push you over.

which is exactly what he did, growling out a, “c’mon. c’mon.”

at that moment, you absolutely gushed all over his fingers and palm. your legs and hips twitched as your orgasm rocked through you. you couldn’t help it as you let out a broken mewl from under his sheets.

your mouth was still open mid-moan as he exclaimed, “wha’ the fuck?!” and yanked back the blankets that were covering you. his eyes widened as he saw you naked under the covers, where his doll usually lay. his eyes can’t help it, he looks at your gorgeous tits and plush stomach and your beautiful face. all things he had fantasized about countless times.

“johnny! this- this isn’t what it—,” you pathetically attempt, growing increasingly embarrassed as you see his eyes darken (with anger or disgust, you assume). his big broad form was keeping your thighs pried apart so you couldn’t hide your wet cunt, making it so you tried to cover yourself with the blanket.

he wouldn’t have any of it, though.

“no, no, no. none o’ that. up ye’ get.” he all but growls out as he yanks all of the covers off of you, revealing your naked form once more. he ignores your yelp as he grabs you under your shoulders to pull you from the bed. he’s manhandling you at this point, his arms moving to wrap around your mid section and pulling you to straddle his lap. you gasp as you feel his cock against your thigh.

“i think,” he grounds out, feeling you grasping at his broad shoulders to steady yourself. “i think i should get my fill from the original from now on.”

he barely waits for any response from you before he’s reaching under you and guiding his cock inside your dripping cunt. he watches your face as he eases his length inside, his girth so thick that you felt that slight burn of stretch. he watched as your mouth hung open in a moan, your brows knitting together.

“mmm, look at tha’. big stretch for such a tight little cunt.” his words only made you moan even more, his husky voice sending shivers down your spine.

“so fuck-,” you whine, voice cracking, “so fucking full.”

“yeah? s’ tha good? hmm?” he crooned mockingly, giving a cruel thrust up into you just to hear you cry out and make you clutch onto him.

“that’s it, hold onto me. i’ll take care of ye’.” he murmurs into your ear, hands coming down to your ass to make you grind onto his cock.

“s’ tha’ what ye’ needed? someone to fill ye’ up? empty yer brain?” you could only nod over and over, eyes glossing over.

“well, ye’ know who you’ll be coming to for tha’ don’t ye’?” he whispers, feeling you tighten around his cock.

skin slapped against skin as he set a steady rhythm of fucking up into you, hips thrusting into your warm wet cunt. you were already sensitive from cumming only a few minutes prior, so it didn’t take much for him to push you to the edge again. especially with his girth stretching you out so fucking perfectly, and the head of his cock hitting that perfect spot with every thrust.

all it took for you to cream all over his cock was his thumb rubbing roughly at your clit again, abusing that sensitive little bud, and him mouthing at the crook of your neck before biting down hard.

©️ glossysoap 2024. please do not steal, copy, plagiarize, translate, or repost any of my works without my permission. do not steal any elements of my theme without permission.

[thesinsoflust]

“ghost distribution system” “soap follows you home” guy GAZ is the king of this!!! don’t you see it!!!!!! he’s so pretty that when he sits down with you at a bar without asking you just go along with it! when you’ve been talking for 5 minutes and he’s already got his hand on your thigh or playing with your hair you just let it slide!! you think he’s a little presumptuous when he’s leaning in but those sparkling puppy eyes just trap you!!

when he just takes your hand and leads you to his car without asking if you wanna come home with him, you’re a little confused and maybe even resistant but he looks so sad when you say you’re going home. oh, babe, what’s wrong? it’s so late and cold and he needs you to keep him warm tonight… and before you know it you’re in his bed on your tummy with your ass in the air and gaz is a little too enthusiastic when he licks up your cunt from behind and prods his tongue just a little too close to your other hole but then he’s sucking your clit so sweetly!! and he plasters himself over your back when he fucks you and kisses your shoulders and tells you that you’re the prettiest thing he’s ever had!!!

so what if he’s a little clingy in the morning? calling you babe and bringing you breakfast isn’t that weird, right? he’s just being so sweet!

… what’s this about lunch with his captain?

[thesinsoflust]