iskinpeople

[iskinpeople]

🤭🤭

Virgin!College!Simon x Nerdy reader :3 [SORRY FOR NOT POSTING FOR AWHILE]

College!Simon still being a virgin but has eyes for your small stature, doesn't even realize that he's overfilling his cup with water until his mate points it out and his face flushes in embarrassment. He keeps watching you for days until he finds out you take the same class as him. He walks up to you, his 6'2 stature towering over you as he stutters out his name, holding his hand out for a shaky handshake. Over the next few weeks you guys grow close, studying and eating lunch together until you both find out you've been moved into Simon's dorm. He shrugs it off and tells you it'll be fine but he's internally panicking, his heart pounding against his ribcage as he excuses himself and goes to clean up his dorm, hiding his crusty socks (which he nutted in while thinking about you..) and washing the bathroom. The next day he helps you move your stuff in before studying with you for a few hours.

After you guys go out Simon buys some alcohol and sneaks it back into the dorms, prompting you guys to get so drunk you end up making out and stripping eachother bare. You guys make out, lips and teeth crashing against eachother as you get ontop of Simon, rubbing your slit along his his throbbing shaft. Simon whimpers, pulling away and slurring out that he's still a virgin before kissing your neck. You tilt your head back to let him kiss your neck as you slowly sink down on his cock. The stretch aches so good you clench, making him whimper and buck his hips up into you. He flips you on your back, drooling onto your tits as he thrusts fast bt sloppy, hitting your spongy spot over and over again. For a virgin he has amazing stamina, thrusting into your tight, slick cunny for hours and hours. Leaving you a whimpering, fucked dumb mess as he blows his last 8th load into you, pulling out and collapsing beside you.

[iskinpeople]

Real

You stir awake, sighing as you roll over to face your sleeping husband. You sit up, fixing your stretchy shirt over your very swollen belly. You pat Simon’s side. “Si? Si! Si!”

He groans as he wakes up, rolling over and shoving his head into his pillow. “Go back t’ sleep.”

“I want a big mac.”

He groans louder. 

“Please, Si? I’m super hungry. And bubby keeps kicking.”

He sighs, “Look ‘t the time, lovie.”

You almost tear up. 

When he notices the frown on your face, he sighs again, getting up. “Which one is the closest?”

You smile, almost jumping with joy as you lean up to press a million kisses to his cheek. “The one on 42nd.”

He leans down, kissing your belly and your lips before heading off to get dressed. 

He returns 20 minutes later, a bag and 2 drinks in hand. You practically moan at the smell as he hands you the bag. 

“I love you,” you moan as you take a bite of your burger. He chuckles, eating his own. “Bubby loves you too. He’s kicking every time I take a bite.”

“Bet ‘e does.” Simon kisses your belly as you stuff a few fries in your mouth. “Lovie?”

“Yeah?” you ask with a mouth full. 

“Do ya think he’ll like me?”

“For the millionth time, my love, you are nothing like your father. You’re far too kind and too amazing and too sweet. He’s going to love you. Just like I do.”

He chuckles, “Love you too.”

He leans down, kissing your belly. 

“Both of ya annoying little buggers. Always fuckin’ hungry.”

[iskinpeople]

AAAAAAAA

Simon hated the tapping out ceremony. Ever since he first had to partake in one, he despised it. With no family and very few friends, he was usually the last on the field, waiting until one of his superiors would tap him out. But he couldn’t skip them either.

So there he was. The sun was beating down on the hundreds of soldiers lined up in neat little rows, standing at attention while they waited for their loved ones. And they came quickly. One soldier after the other was tapped out by their parents, siblings, spouse, and sometimes even children. But he stayed still, watching the happy reunions out of the corner of his eyes. Watching the tears and hugs and kisses. He envied the others; he was jealous of what they had, and he didn’t. But Simon had always been good at following orders, so he didn’t move, barely even blinked as he was surrounded by happiness, while he drowned in his own sorrow.

After an hour, there was only one other soldier left. Simon had barely interacted with him, but he knew his face. And just when Simon thought he wouldn’t be the only one without someone to tap him out this time, a crowd of eight people moved toward the soldier. At the front was an older-looking woman, her brown hair streaked with grey and lines on her face, indicating her age. Around her were people of all ages and genders.

“My son!” The woman let out a sob as she finally threw her arms around the soldier’s neck, causing the man to chuckle, as he hugged her back. “I missed you too, mama.”

One by one, he talked to the people surrounding him, hugged them, and kissed them. Simon couldn’t help but watch, bile rising in his throat as jealousy threatened to overtake him. And as he watched, he couldn’t help but imagine himself in the soldier’s stead. Surrounded by a happy, loud, and loving family. People who were happy to see him. Nowadays, the only people he could call family were the guys from the 141, and they were away on a mission. Still, in his mind, the scene played out. His mother, smiling, rushing toward him. Followed by his brother and his wife, carrying his nephew.

The daydream was interrupted by someone walking toward him. He expected it to be his superior, there to finally release him from the nightmare. But it wasn’t.

A young woman took timid steps in his direction. Her eyes, bright but filled with sadness. Not her own sadness, though, it was sadness she felt for him. He didn’t react, didn’t move, didn’t blink. She came to a stop in front of him, gazing up with a frown.

“Is someone coming?” Simon hesitated before giving an almost invisible shake of his head. She gasped, it was quiet and he barely heard it, but he felt it. In every bone, he felt her sadness and the sorrow she carried for him. Slowly, as if not to startle him, she lifted her hand, until it was inches away from his chest. “Is…is this okay?” When he gave a slight nod, she gently pressed her hand against his chest, finally tapping him out.

A breath he didn’t realize he had been holding escaped him as he finally turned to properly look at the woman. She was still gazing up at him, a soft smile now replacing the frown on her face.

“Thank you.” She nodded in response before glancing back at her family. When she looked back at Simon, she looked determined. “We’re going out to eat dinner if you’d like to join us?” Simon was about to decline when someone called out to him.

“Oi! Ghost!” He looked up and saw the soldier, now facing him, an arm wrapped around his mother’s shoulder. “Let’s go; my mom says dinner’s on us!” Without waiting for a response, he turned around and started walking toward the car park, his entire family in tow. Simon kept looking after him until a soft, small hand slipped into his own. He glanced down and found the woman smiling up at him.

“Come, my mom doesn’t take ‘no’ for an answer.” And with those words, the woman gently led him to follow her family.

A/N: This will be a two-parter. I hope you liked it!

[iskinpeople]

Yet

Simon Riley likes to be crushed. Fuckin' smushed beneath your weight. He loves having you sleep on top of him, sprawled over his chest or all curled up; doesn't damn well matter.

He pouts and grumbles if you hover over his face, especially after he demands you sit on him. He grips your thighs in his big, meaty paws; pulls you down onto his face if he has to.

If you say you're too heavy, he scoffs. It's unacceptable, to have you thinking like that. You can't possibly think he's that weak, can you? No. That's a foolish though.

"Shu' up," Simon mutters into your flesh, lightly slapping the meat of your thigh. "Can 'ear ya thinkin'."

His crooked nose is buried next to your clit, eyes nearly rolled back in sheer bliss. Every word is mumbled against your folds, unshaven jaw nuzzling your sensitive skin. He's in utter ecstasy like this.

"I ain't a weak man, pretty thing."

[iskinpeople]

What a dream🥰🥰 (I keep getting gay stuff)

imagine having ghost and soap as boyfriends, it's either you get to large but sweet guys who will kill whoever disrespects their lovie or you get to large guys that are trying to rip each others hair out after one eats the others ice cream

soap is always trying to fuck you no matter where you are and you have to get simon to pull him off you just for simon to take his place, cooing how no one will even notice and him and soap can just slip in really quick, you denied for a little but the moment he rubbed his bulge against your ass you were all for it

the was until price caught you three and scolded you but nonetheless you all ended up doing it again, some days after months of being away from you on a mission they come back one of two way; wanting to cuddle you all day and night until death or fuck you until you have their offspring

on this day it was the latter, they wasted no time in taking you to your guys' shared room and plowing you all night long, spurting out all there pent up cum into you until your belly was bulging with cum and putting a butt plug in you

but they couldn't possibly leave you like that so they always either go out and get you some food or try their best to make something at home (which usually ends up in the food being burnt and they go out and get you food) so you spend your night sweaty and barely feeling your legs but at least you have some ice cream and two hot boyfriends by your side

[iskinpeople]

EEE

TATTED UP! Simon Riley who lets you turn him into a colouring book. He doesn’t care how you colour his tattoos, he just wants to see the scrunched up look of concentration on your cute face.

“What colour do you want?” You murmur as you glance at your numerous eyeshadow palettes. Simon wants to say black or grey but he sees the way you eye the pink palette for a moment too long.

“… Pink.” He finally answers, his gaze focused solely on your bright smile.

You find joy in colouring his arm with various shades of pink and purple as he watches. “Look, so cute.” You murmur, eliciting a low laugh from Simon.

“Yeah.” His voice rumbles, “You wanna colour the rest in?”

BONUS

“Aye, LT, you got your tattoo redone or what?” Jonny can barely hold back his laughter as he looks at Simon’s arm. The previously edgy tattoos were now adorned with feminine colours and glitter.

“No. Just making the misses happy.” Simon doesn’t really care for his teammates’ reactions because the memory of your smile is enough to block out Jonny’s cackles.

[iskinpeople]

Fucking love Loser!Simon <3 (I'm a female–)

imagine loser!simon riley who cant stop fucking you no matter how many times he cums, he's been fucking you for hours now, ruining you down to nothing and he's so so sorry, he didn't mean for it to be like this it's just his stupid body wont listen to his mind

he apologizing so much while fucking his cum deeper and deeper in you, little whimpers leaving his mouth, to anyone else who didn't know what was going on it could've sounded like simon was getting fucked

each time he tried to pull out your hole just sucked him back in and he didn't care that at this point he was just shooting blanks, his mind was slowly turning to nothing and it didn't help that your moans just encouraged him more and more to keep going

when he finally grew the strength to pull out of you there was not a thought behind those eyes, dropping onto the bed with labored breaths while his load spills from your ass, he's quick to get back up once he sees the seething look on your face as you cant feel your lower half

rushing you to the bathroom to bathe all the sweat and his cum from you before getting on his hands and knees next to the tub and profusely apologizing for what he did

[iskinpeople]

LMAOOO

I like to think that when Simon eventually settles down, he marries a slightly strange, mildly autistic super genius who's known for just sort of knowing everything. They're the one person forced to sit out in pub quizzes and asked how to word or spell things correctly when the guys are writing work emails. Their whole thing is knowing something about everything.

Or, most things, at least.

Simon soon learns, that whilst his spouse is killer at trivia and knowing stuff, that's about as good as it gets.

"How do I write a cheque?" Leaves him literally baffled, perhaps even more than the one time they'd revealed to him that they didn't know how online banking worked.

"It tells you - on the paper."

"Yeah but - I don't know my bank details." They respond to his incredulity like an adult not knowing their own bank details is the most natural thing in the world.

"What do - how do you get paid without knowing that?"

"My dad set it up for me - I just figured the money goes in every month."

The sudden realisation that his partner is deadly serious hits Simon like a truck. If they don't even know how to access their bank, how have they done taxes and paid off their credit cards?

"And when the money goes out - like, say, when you pay your taxes?" He questions with anxious patience, sitting opposite them at the kitchen table.

"I thought you paid our taxes."

"But I thought you paid them. That's been like your one job since we got married."

He signs them up for one of those old people online banking courses like a week later.

[iskinpeople]

He's so...Cat like

Simon that likes it when you scratch his beard. Especially when its just grown enough to be poking through his mask but short enough that your nails can wander freely.

Like a cat under the sun he's content. Sitting between your legs and pressed against your chest. Simon was watching the tv before he decided it was much better to lean his head back on your shoulder. Neck exposed to the cold air when it's used to tucked under his chin or protected by cloth and gear.

"Don't you dare stop", he'll grumble out when your hand pauses to help shift yourself to a spot that doesn't push down on your back. You'll just chuckle when he released a sigh, hands continuing to scratch near his neck and jaw while you feel him grow heavier.

Leaning fully against you and pushing you into the bed when he falls asleep. At least you have time to watch your show now. If he doesn't wake up when you stop that is.

[iskinpeople]

I NEED MOREEEE

zombie simon ghost riley, it's not the rotten flesh, the unintelligible words he gurgles, the milky gaze of his lost eyes, it's more the way he clings to you, the way his dislocated jaw hangs down with raspy, loud sounds he doesn't holds down, how your fingers look, spanned around the width of his girthy, engorged cock, decorated with angry, black veins that seem to pulse in response to your touch.

how protective he is, lurking behind your back, growling, snapping, reacting to any sound around in case he'll need to protect you, your guard, pressing his hanging jaw over your shoulder, telling you something with his rasping sounds under your ear, looking at you almost puppy like, at lough you no longer can see the umber color of his eyes.

still, he's attractive to you, your precious simon, pressing closer to you needily when your lips brush over his masked forehead, he can't take it off, not with bits of his rotting skin already sticking to the fabric, far away from hurting him by now, but it's wouldn't be a pretty sight to look at, even with your gentle, hushed words about how he's still your pretty boy, and you never would push him away, his chest rumbling with broken, animalistic purr.

main masterlist. quidelines.

[iskinpeople]

He's so freaky

simon and his plushy babe

his fingers slip, up and up till his nails are snagging your hips. you’re on top of him, eyes alight in some sweet fire, one that has his skin crawling in goosebumps.

“up, mama,” he whispers, lip tugging its way between his pearly teeth. and the way your slick cunt sits atop his abs has his body reeling, balls achinggg.

“simon… y’know i can’t..” you trail off, fingertips pressing into the rough skin of his chest. you’re heavy, heavier than the average women, wider set… everywhere and you know he’ll suffocate under your pretty cunnie if you even dare.

his palms grab into your thick skin, forcing you to stagger up until you’re hovering up above his lips. and you’re gasping, grabbing up onto the headboard to steady yourself out, it fuels the both of you all at once, makes you undeniably desirable to your hub.

“you’re gon’ listen to me, baby, you hear me?” he speaks, reeling his chin up till his lips brush across your beating lil nub. and you can only whimper, digging your hands into his hair and letting him do his thang.

might’ve had a few shots… 😊

[iskinpeople]

UGHHH

Simon Riley, the stoic and imposing type of man to try and hold back his moans in the bedroom. He's usually quiet, save for a few groans as his orgasm crests, but when it comes to you? oh he's a moaning mess.

It surprises even him, when he pushes into you for the first time and lets out a breathy moan he didn't know capable of leaving his lungs. You're just that intoxicating, though, just that right level of dangerous to break down the walls of a man like him without putting him on the defence.

He learns to let it be. Rather than bite his tongue and hide his face in your neck, occupy his mouth with your skin between his teeth, he moans into your mouth instead. He lets you swallow the noises he makes, take them into your body just as you're taking him deeper than you had thought possible.

And it only gets worse the needier he is. If he's been gone a while and deprived of your touch, Simon will come home and whine as you run your nails across his scarred shoulders. Straddling him, putting him in the spotlight of pleasures as you sit on his cock and take him inch-by-inch until he's balls deep inside of you and already on the verge of spilling inside of you.

He's a mess of moans and rambling dirty talk that you can't make much sense of, not when his cock is so deep and so thick that you're actively fighting back tears at the sheer stretch of him. How overpowering he is, how his strong corded arms lift you up and drop you back down onto his cock. How with each thrust you swear he breaks deeper into you, and hes the one moaning like he's already overstimulated.

His sounds become your favourite thing when he finally cums, filling you with himself even further, and between the choked moans of his orgasm, he tells you that he fucking loves you.

husband material amirite

[iskinpeople]

BUYING MORE

parading your cute sundress in front of simon riley was a bad idea, even though it was supposed to be a short stroll to the nearest grocery store for a couple of things, you didn't expect that an ordinary, midi long black fabric with a floral print would make him so restless, bursting up from the sofa on which he was sprawled out, just to pull you closer.

with open mouthed, soft kisses pressed against the curve of your neck, where he inhales the alluring notes of your perfume, brushing his nose over the column of your throat, nuzzling in the tender skin below while his big palms cup at the plushness of your hips, crumpling the cottony fabric of your dress just slightly, enough to hear your giggled complaints.

simon steals them with his tongue, licking into the soft sweetness of your mouth, swallowing the bright, giddy sounds that spill from your lips, plump and swelling as he draws your every exhale and cutted moan deep in his lungs, sturdy chest rising beneath your palms, as you turn your hips with clattering steps, letting him swirl and maneuver you towards the wall.

he looks in your adoring, fluttering eyes and the way your lips part round in a gasped moan, his long, thick fingers splayed over your dripping pussy, spreading your puffy folds while his chubby cock, barely fisted out from just his jeans, spreads you open by each wet inch, rudy tip sinking in your tight, gooey warmth, and you just fix your stance, letting simon scoop you up.

making your pussy sink down on his veiny girth down to the root, feeling each throb and slow thrust that butts against your sweet, spongy spot, your gummy walls constricting, squeezing tight, simon's pale eyelashes dipping in a quivering, droopy sweep that brushes against his sharp, flushing cheekbones, hips jerking up, as his nails bite into your asscheeks.

main masterlist. quidelines.

[iskinpeople]

Way past

It's nearly one am when Simon stumbles out of the bar. The team was in Berlin for an operation but they had wrapped that up yesterday. Their flight home wasn't scheduled till the next day so they had decided to enjoy the sights and activities. And you can't visit the beer capital of the world without getting a pint, Soap had pointed out. So they stopped by the pub. One pint turned into two, two turned into three. Now he was, staggering down the streets of Berlin with only one goal in mind.

He needed to get home to the missus.

Simon didn't get very far away from the bar before Soap noticed his absence. Soap gently steers him back to the bar. Simon loosely swats at him.

"She'll be u'set if 'm naw home," Simon slurs at him. Soap chuckles and nods.

"I know. But you canny just waltz out on us," he says, pushing Simon into a seat. Simon huffs and begins to stand again, wobbling just a bit.

"Sit yer ass down. We'll call the missus, right?", Soap offers. After fumbling his phone for a minute and trying to get the password typed in, Soap helps Simon call you.

"Hi, honey. How is it going?", your voice rings through the phone. Simon gives you a drunken grin.

" 'llo love," he slurs. You giggle at his love drunk expression.

"Hi baby. Had a bit to drink?," you chuckle.

"He near tried to walk himself home," Soap shouts to you. You laugh harder. Simon wrinkles his nose at Soap, still displeased with being kept there.

" 'm sorry, love. I won't be home in time for dinner," he rumbles. He looks so sad. Big brown eyes staring down at the phone, lip poked out in a small pout. You wipe a tear of laughter from your eye.

"Oh honey, I think it's past dinner time."

[iskinpeople]

NGHHHHH

cw: dubcon, kidnapping, probably stockholm syndrome, mentions of blood.

mafia könig, a man you met by a typically unfortunate coincidence, in the wrong place, at the wrong time, in a dark alley, you didn't want to see a murder so clearly, with blood spilling on the asphalt under your feet, with men in suits that instill chilling fear, hands in gloves, shoes now covered in crimson spots, and icy eyes staring at you from the clogging darkness.

and he didn't want to get his hands dirty again, to persuade someone to close his mouth, and so luckily, könig didn't have to do any of that, not with the way you stood with your lips pressed together and shook, and not with the way your wide, wet eyes looked when you met his gaze, making his cock stir in his trousers so pervertedly, his hand swinging rudely to indicate the men around him to keep behind, as he doesn't want to scare off his new trophy.

könig won't let you run away, hide, and won't even pay for your silence, he easily closes the distance between you in order to pick you up in his arms, and, with a predatory squint, covering your mouth gently with his leathery glove so as not to let out your pathetic, sweet sobs, he carries you away with him, towards the tinted car parked just nearby, to introduce you to your new life as soon as possible.

the life of an obedient doll of flesh and blood, you don't know if you're so scared, or if he managed to bribe you somehow, since you don't try to escape, even when könig leaves you alone to go take care of some business, as if sure that you will stay where he left you, and so you are, stay where he placed you, greet him with a rounded gaze and a nervous shake, squeaking pathetically when he tries to get a welcome kiss out of you, rugged face nosing against yours.

könig will wait for you to warm up to him, will make an excellent ground for this, with expensive gifts, gentle treatments, promises that he will never forcibly touch you, even if you harbor only hatred for him, but you do not push away his careful kisses on the crown of your head, on the soft, warm cheeks, only whine when he moves down to the neck, clinging to his back with sharp, clawing nails.

and in the end, you let him find a respite between your supple thighs, each time he comes back after another bloodied meeting, you let könig's dirty hands taint your body, knead and bruise at your silken, delicate skin while his rough, curling tongue laps over your soppy cunt, coating his stubbled chin with strings of your endlessly oozing slick, so sweet and wet, spread out for him.

main masterlist. quidelines.

[iskinpeople]

I'd kill for him to do this irl

könig's rugged face between your thighs, squished by the supple skin, the rough hairs of his outgrown stubble scratching, tickling at your legs, soothed by the chapped sensation of his lips trailing over, planting loving, warm kisses and moving them up, his eyes curtained by the lashes, pupils changing their size, as he glances at you.

watching how your lips quirk, corners furling upwards in a little smile, your fingers searching his hair, strands messy, haphazard beneath your touch, as you twirl his locks around your digits, eyes crinkling, forming amused creases around, as his mouth opens, pillow of his lip soft against the sensitive flesh of your thigh, as he scrapes his teeth over, biting down slowly.

a playful nip, a sudden urge to see your reaction, surprised jump of your eyebrows, leg twitching beneath his head, bristled cheek laying right close to the place he bitten, glistening with drool, his sharp teeth showing in a lopsided grin, as you gasp, lips pouting out, cunt throbbing at the sudden, forbidden feeling, making your skin warm.

könig sees the shudder that wriggles beneath your skin, the tensing of your muscles not escaping his sight, how your legs try to clench together, unable because of his face between them, as he noses forward, burying against your clothed mound like a dog, still holding the shaky eye contact with you, your fingers dipping to grip the hair on his nape, tugging, and he hums.

main masterlist. quidelines.

[iskinpeople]

HOW EVIL

tiktok inspiration link

cw: kinda making out in public.

simon riley is one of those men who are not shy and do not mind resorting to the use of sex toys, after all, if he get's to see you writhing in pleasure, with toes spasming and eyes wet, then it's all he could wish for, that's why you have a quite pair of vibrators in your bedside table, organized neatly for future, immediate use during a heated sessions.

but when you both stumble upon this thing, a grind pad, and simon remembers just how beautiful you look when your thighs are shuddering and shaking around his own, as you rub your clothed pussy all over his muscled, tense leg, it's an instant purchase, and a thing he almost doesn't takes off his leg after it's gets delivered, always strapped around simon's thigh.

either at home, where he can easily reveal it to you, or outside, somewhere public, hidden beneath his cargo pants, so simon could seat you purposefully right on the silicone thing beneath, making you straddle his lap, the pad pressing against your clothed mound as his leg bounces under the table, your teeth's biting down a needy whimper slipping from the tongue, and he's nothing but smug.

main masterlist. quidelines.