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༉‧₊˚. Simon Riley giving reader aftercare cw// just soft fluff ₍⑅ᐢ..ᐢ₎

𐙚 Simon Riley has always been rough during sex especially since he knew that you, his sweet little dovie loved it rough. Loved to be roughly fucked and marked up by him and he always obeyed to your wishes and desires and after the passionate sex he always cared for his luvie.

Just like today, you’re laying panting on the mattress, totally spent from the intense session of pleasure. The usually neat sheets are messed up under you, damp with sweat and your mixed juices. you can still feel him, feel the shape of his thick cock inside you, every inch, every vein and his cum dripping out of your puffy pussy.

The marks on your thighs still feel hot and your voice is fully hoarse from screaming. Simon’s calloused hand brushes gently over your sweaty body, rough fingers gliding over every mark he left, every claim he made.

"are ya feelin' okay ma love?"

“yea, just… sore.”

"'m sorry if I was too rough wit-"

"Don't be, I loved every second of it si"

"I’m glad swee'heart"

A gruff chuckle rumbles from his throat, as he leans down to place a soft kiss on your mouth. He walks away from the bed and heads into the bathroom, you hear the rustle of cloth and the sound of water running. When he returns, it’s with a warm washcloth that's soft and damp, he gently strokes the cloth between the sore spot between you legs

He cleans you up with rare gentleness that's only reserved for his sweet birdie. He wipes away the mess of him that's still leaking from your filled sore cunt as he gives you a glass of water. When he’s done, he tosses the cloth aside and pulls you into his arms, drawing up the blankets around the both of you as he kisses your forehead. His hand cradles the back of your head, the other tracing lazy circles over your back.

"You were perfect tonight luvie, took everything like a good lil girl."

You didn’t reply, just nuzzling closer into his hard chest as your eyes flutter shut. He kisses your temple again, holding you tighter as he thinks about how lucky he is to have you by his side.

"I love you luvie, you belong t'me and I belong t'you. Forever."

@sidollie

༉‧₊˚. masterlist

a/n: i've never written fluff before, hope you guys like it @corvid007

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Simon “Ghost” Riley sat near the far end of the bar, his large frame draped in a black hoodie. His hood was up, hiding his figures and casting a shadow in the dim light to the point where only his eyes were visible.

Sat in front of him was a round glass with a neat pour of whiskey, no garnish, just the whiskey in its purest form. He tipped the glass back, savoring the burn as it slid down his throat, the familiar warmth settling in his chest.

His attention wandered to the rest of the bar. The chatter of patrons blended into a hum, but his mind wasn't really on the noise. He wasn’t here to socialize. He preferred the silence, the solitude.

On another hand he took a glance at his surroundings, to his left, Gaz was leaning in, his voice low and confident as he talked to a girl, throwing a few well-timed smirks her way. To his right, Soap and Price were engaged in a seemingly well conversation the tension from one of this week’s jobs seemed to slowly loosen from their shoulders.

Simons gaze lazily shifted around, scanning the familiar faces he seems to see every time the 141 comes here. And that’s when he spots you. It wasn’t immediate, at first, he only noticed the way you moved- like you didn’t quite belong in a place like this.

You sat towards the opposite end of the bar, a carefully crafted cocktail in front of you, something strong but with a touch of sweetness, maybe a whiskey based old fashion? Simon assumed, though he hadn’t seen you take a sip yet. There was no rush, no sense of urgency in your actions, just an undeniable air of calm around you, like the world had somehow paused just for you.

You shift in your seat and Simon snaps out of the trance you unknowingly put him in, diverting his gaze back to his glass. His finger absently toying with the rim, you were pretty, there was something about your purity, just like the whiskey in front of him, no frills, no pretenses. You weren’t here to impress anyone, nor were you hiding behind a front. You just were. In a way Simon respected, even through the layers of his mask.

Simon lifted his glass, tilting his head back to take another gulp, as he placed his glass back on the bar top he couldn’t help but steal another glance at you, drawn at the way you sipped your drink, the way your lips parted as you spoke to the bartender. His gaze lingered for a few moments longer, just enough for you to glance over his way, your eyes meeting in a breif silent acknowledgment. You looked away first but not before simon’s breath caught in his chest.

Simon tried his best to focus on the conversation being had next to him, but it was no use. His mind kept drifting back to you.

You didn’t seem to be aware of the way his attention shifted towards you again and again, but then, as if on cue, Simon watched you turn, your eyes finding his for a brief instant before you quickly looked down again. But Simon didn’t look away. It was subtle, a quiet exchange but meant something more to Him.

Soap nudged Simon, jolting him out of his thoughts and forcing him to loo k away.

“Oi, Ghost, you look like you’re about to burn a hole in the poor lass over there.”

Simon grunted, his gaze snapping quickly back to his drink “just having a quite one” he muttered

“Maybe she noticed you staring, what’s the harm in a little chat, eh?”

Simon didn’t answer. He couldn’t. There was something about you that he couldn’t quite put his finger on, something that kept pulling his attention back. Simon wasn’t a man who usually got caught up in thoughts like these. Hell, he spent years burying that side of him through combat.

Then without warning you stood. Simons eyes followed you as you pushed in the bar stoll, unsure whether to look away or to continue watching. You were headed to the door, moving with the same grace that had first caught his attention. And just before you dissapred into the night, you turned your head, eyes meeting his once more, a smile playing at the edges of your lips before you shut the bar door behind you.

For the first time in a long while, Simon allowed himself to believe in the possibility of something more than the shadows he usually lived in.

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Wallet Polaroid

Summary: Steve Harrington is home alone, not knowing what to do since you’re busy, suddenly he remembers a picture of you tucked away in his wallet, he uses it and jeez does it get the job done.

Pairings: Steve Harrington x Fem Reader

Word count: 500

Warnings: MNDNI 18+, male masterbation, descriptive language, polaroid of readers boobs

Master list:

_____________________<3_____________________

Steve is sprawled across his bed, a tennis ball in hand as he throws it up in the air, catching it and throwing it up again. He tried everything to rid his boredom, went swimming in his pool, smoked a joint, tried to call you, to which you didn’t answer, took a shower and made some food, tried to call you again…to which you didn’t answer.

He knew earlier you told him you’d be busy tonight, but that didn’t stop him from calling you a third time that night, once again not getting an answer :/, with a roll of his eyes and a heavy pout on his face, he places the phone back on the wall, feet bringing him to his bed, his back hitting it as he flops down, letting out a heavy sigh.

It’s not till he gets reminded of the one thing he didn’t try tonight… he rises to his legs and begins to make his way to a pair of jeans discarded on his floor, he picks them up, searching his pockets till he finds his leather wallet, hands flicking it open, finger tips searching the compartments till he finds it, the dim light of the room reflecting off a shiny polaroid. His cock practically jumps beneath his boxers as he pulls out a polaroid of you, aching at the sight.

You hold the camera angled at your chest, dressed in a small light pink tank top, one of Steve’s favorite that you wear, it’s bunched up and sitting perfectly over your tits, your free hand propping them up with a soft squeeze.

He can feel his hard cock throbbing, the tension begging to be released, he feels his cheeks get red as he takes in the picture, his wallet dropping to his floor as he grips the polaroid between his fingers, carefully he sets it on the dresser in front of him, his hands moving to remove his boxers, they drop to his feet and he kicks them off, his cock springing free.

Right next to the picture is a bottle of lotion, he uses a squirt to lubricant his hand before quickly wrapping his fingers over his length, spreading the lotion down his shaft, a moan escaping as he grazes his red tip, his other hand grabbing the polaroid once again.

As he scans the polaroid he can’t help but notice how soft your nipples look, so pink and plush, ready to be licked and sucked by him. He runs his fist up and down his shaft, squeezing softly, pre cum dribbling out of his tip, he moves his hand up to swipe it away, gracefully moving over his slit, releasing a heavy groan from him.

As he stares at the picture, he imagines your hand squeezing your tits to show them off to him, imaging how good it would feel to squeeze your tits together and place his cock perfectly between them, grinding his hips so he can fuck them. He hears the pretty sounds of your moans caused by him, he feels the softness of your skin, the sweet smell of your hair, it’s all enough to send him overboard.

He pumps his hand faster on his cock, whiny moans fall between his lips, the sound of his hand moving up and down him is prominent in his room, his mind can’t help but to wonder beyond the picture, how just below the frame you sit in panties, your wet cunt waiting for his thick member to fill you up, your legs resting against the soft sheets in your bed, the bed he gets to fuck you in, the bed where you take polaroids of yourself for him! And for him to use in this exact way.

Deep grunts fall out as he gets closer and closer, unable to deny it any longer, his grip on his cock tightening as his orgasm tumbles out of him cum shooting from him. All sorts of noises fall out of him, pathetic groans and whimpers, any curse word you can think of. He imagines you finishing with him, how your face would be flushed with a red tint, your eyes squeezing shut as you moan his name, how he would pull out and cum all over your tits, still pumping and squeezing so that every drop falls out of him and he’s completely drained by you. He finally calms his breathing, eyes still on the picture, taking it in, he lets out a sigh as he painfully pulls his eyes away from the picture to look down at the mess he’s made, the mess you made him make, his cock limp and tired, his tip red and wet. He bends down to pick up his wallet, tucking the picture back where it belongs so he can use it for next time, before moving to clean up the mess.

Master list:

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I NEED A PART TWO TO THE POLAROID FIC WHERE STEVE HAS ANOTHER POLAROID OF READER but this time she’s getting herself off in the picture

Ask and you shall receive

I switched it up a little and made them (temp) exes

Warnings: Strong description of male masturbation, slight description of female reader masturbation and picture of reader.

Word count: 600

Masterlist

Polaroid part 1

Days apart

Steve and you have been broken up for a total of 3 days, Steve was sure you guys would be back together again and all in the world would be well, but it’s been radio silence from you, and Steve found himself left home alone in his empty house again. But this time he couldn’t muster up the courage to call you up again and fix things, so he’s left sitting in his desk chair. He would be lying to himself if he said he didn’t feel the way his cock has been missing you, threatening to jump out of his jeans and crawl to you.

He can’t take it anymore and eventually he digs through his drawer and pulls out an old magazine worn at the edges and begins to flip through the pages till he finds something he likes, or, at least something to help get his mind off of you.

Amidst the flipping he spots between another two pages, a single stray polaroid of you, he pauses and grabs it, discarding the magazine to the floor, brining the polaroid closer so he can evaluate it.

He scans the polaroid, noticing how your back is to your pillows and how you angled the camera just right so it shows between your legs, two of your own fingers inserted deep into your cunt, your pink lips open slightly in a moan.

Steve’s face flushes red and his eyes widen a little as if the item in his hand was a long lost treasure.

Shit- to him it was.

Steve’s grip on the polaroid tightens and he removes his pants and boxers with one hand, and holds the picture with the other, he kicks his pants and boxers off his legs and slowly frees his heavy cock. The tension was so built up, that there is precum already coating his tip, he uses that as lubricant and slowly slides his palm all the way down his shaft. He leaned his head back, a low groan escaping his lips as if it were almost painful for him.

“Fuuuuuuck” he says, the word stretching out as if it would ease the moment’s intensity. A shuddering breath escaping his lips afterwards.

He pumps his cock again, squeezing slightly when he reaches the base of his tip, only to drag his palm back down and up again creating a rhythm.

He takes in the polaroid more, his eyes meet your slightly open mouth and in his euphoria he swears he can almost hear your soft moans and whimpers of his name, he can hear the echo of the sweet wet sounds your pussy makes as it takes your fingers in and out, he imagines how good it would feel for his cock to replace your fingers and fuck into your perfect pussy instead. And he knows with these thoughts, he won’t last much longer.

As he picks up the pace his moans fall out in a rhythmic pattern, each one rising and falling with his breaths. His large bicep flexes with each thrust and his back pushes into the chair.

He takes in the photo even more, thrusting to the thought of you touching yourself to him like he’s doing to you right now. How you went out of your way to place a photo like this in his room without him knowing and how oh so very great full he is for it this very moment. Whether you’re his ex or not.

With each stroke his breathe quickened, tension building up all around him till finally he was able to release it, thick and warm cum shooting out of him as he lets out a moan loud enough to make up for the 3 days you’ve been apart. His thrusts become slow as he tries to calm his breathing, streams of cum dripping onto his fist that grips his cock. He wouldn’t have this problem if he were with you, because if he were with you right now he’d make sure every last drop of him made it inside of you instead. Once he’s calmed down he looks at the phone on his wall, then back to the mess he created, then back to the phone, within seconds he lifts to his feet and makes it over to the phone to dial in your number.

a/n thank you for the request :) i’m sorry it took a couple days to respond!

Masterlist

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steve dating a hopeless romantic <3 someone who just falls for him and falls for him hard, he's so used to being the 'more in love' one, it completely floors him that his girl is obsessed with him, that she calls him pretty and plays with his hair, that she gets excited when he plans dates and surprises, she's not hesitant or unsure about him, he knows she loves him and he doesn't have to worry that he's 'too much' for her, he gets to be his romantic self, stealing kisses and staying on the phone too late, making plans and buying flowers, they're quiet nauseating if he's honest, but he doesn't really care, he wants her to be all over him, he wants to be always touching or holding hands, he wants her to call and say she misses him after only an hour of being apart, steve just falls hard, he's so meant to be a boyfriend it's stupid, and he's good at it too, according to his girlfriend, 'the best' <3

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Best friend Eddie Munson thoughts cause i could use a bsf eddie rn:

Ways your best friend Eddie would cheer you up on a bad day

Would sit and listen to music with you in complete silence cause just his presence makes you feel better.

Would show up to ur house w a vinyl or cd you’ve been wanting, or a special made mixtape for you.

Will find something risky and dangerous for you two to do, the adrenaline makes you to take your mind off things.

Will distract you by just rambling nonsense stories on and on, (definitely paces around the room while doing so had has dramatic hand gestures)

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Slapping x Steve thoughts under the cut

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Steve who teasingly slaps ur ass when you walk by him, earning a gasp and the drag of his name “Steveeee”

Steve who slaps your ass anytime you happen to bend down in front of him plus adding in a squeeze

Steve who blows small slaps to your ass in doggy style

or Steve who’s pounding into you and lays a small slap to your clit

orrrr steve who slowly drags his cock out of you only to slap it against your pussy 🫠 his hung heavy cock weighing down on your clit

orrrrrrr Steve who softly slaps your face as he’s pounding into your cunt, telling you how bratty you were all day and how his cum is gonna make you feel all better

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I love the head cannon that Ghost likes to stare a lot. Not at anything in particular, just staring.

Then he realizes that he really likes staring at you. He's fucking you in missionary, basically rocking both of your bodies and the bed with each deep and heavy thrust, putting his body weight into it. He's got his large hands planted beside your head, maybe your legs clenching on and off his hips as he thrusts.

Between your moaning and his fat dick making your pussy drool, you don't notice him staring into your face, huffing and groaning every now and then but otherwise quiet.

Between your moaning and crying about how good he feels, grasping onto his thick wrists for support as he pounds, you finally acknowledge him staring into your eyes.

"S... Simon?" You say breathlessly, being a little confused.

He stares a little longer before realizing what he's doing and shakes out of it, leaning down so your faces are right against each other, but not quite touching, slowing his thrusts down into a deeper, more loving pace, "You're fuckin' beautiful..." He whispers.

He captures your lips before you respond, not that you could with the way he's fucking and loving you.

His thrusts get sloppier, still deep and hard, his tongue intertwining with yours messily. You couldn't believe how much you turned him on by just being looked at.

Nor could he, yet here he was, groaning as one thick hand wrapped around the back of your neck, kissing you harder as he cums ropes inside of you.

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Steve who gets you lily flowers that haven’t blossomed yet, so that you get to watch them bloom one at a time 🌸

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Joe crumbs <3 Steve crumbs <3 gimme MOAR

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in my head steve harrington is real and he is my boyfriend

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i love you steve harrington’s mustache stubble

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WHAT THE FUCK IS NONCHALANT 😭😭😭 i was built to take a sword through my chest for you

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I'm imagining reader and Dad!Steve having to wrangle a toddler who likes taking off after bath time before they can dress her lol, she's a free spirit!

dad!steve harrington x fem!reader

You and Steve were both depleted of energy and motivation as you watched your daughter run - somewhat unsteadily - and completely naked, down the hall.

Both of you were slumped in various states of dishevelment on the bathroom floor. Steve was leaning against the slowly draining tub, the smell of lavender bubbles still in the air, the empty shampoo bottle mocking you from the floor as the front label claimed to make your baby ‘sleepy for bedtime!’

Margot was anything but as she stumbled down the hallway, bare feet stomping on the carpet, leftover bubbles still clinging to her water warm skin, droplets dripping down her chubby tummy. Her hair was soaked, curls stuck to her forehead at all angles and even though you couldn’t see her face, her wild cackles were enough to let you know she was having the time of her life.

You were against the sink unit with a soaked pyjama shirt as you eyed your partner tiredly. Margot was ambling into her nursery now, naked as the day she was born, ready to pull apart the toy box you’d not long put back together.

You nudged Steve’s leg with your toes. “Tag. You’re it.”

He snorted, eyes as heavy and tired as your own. His own socked feet came to push under your thighs, nudging at you with a thick affection you could feel even through such a causal touch. “What happens if we just— let her tire herself out?”

You smiled, head tipping back against the cupboard doors. The bathroom was still warm with leftover steam, the crackle of popping foam at the bottom of the now empty tub and the soft light above the vanity all made for a pleasant place to rest, hard tiles and all.

“It’s been—“ you checked the pretend watch on your wrist and Steve was already grinning before you spoke again. “—twenty eight months and I don’t think that’s happened yet.”

He hummed, head lolling forward until the scruff on his chin knocked into his chest. If you weren’t so aware of your babbling daughter from the other room, you would’ve clambered into his lap happily. “Knew we shouldn’t have thrown away the instructions,” Steve mumbled. “We never did find her off switch.”

You snorted, easily amused when sleep was hard to find and you were letting Steve pull you to your feet before you knew he’d even stood. The bathroom floor was a mess of puddles and half soaked towels and it was a chore finding one dry enough to entrap Margot in. But together, you and Steve stumbled down the hall in a way that wasn’t far off your toddlers drunken amble, shoulders knocking into each other and the walls before you both reached her room.

Buried in the large basket you used for her toys, Margot was grinning, curls damp and mussed, her pyjama shirt rumpled around her shoulders and backwards, but she looked pleased to have attempted it herself.

Leaning against Steve, who was leaning against the doorframe, he wrapped his arms around your waist as you both watched your daughter poke at her teddy bears nose. Eyes soft with sleepiness and adoration, you tucked your nose into the man’s chest.

It rumbled under you as he spoke, his voice wonderfully rough as he tried to keep himself awake, his hands soothing up and down your spine. “How long ‘til she pees on Mr Quackers?”

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Steve Harrington who slowly crawls up your body when you’re in his bed, only to plop his whole entire body down on you squashing you into the mattress. Your only option is to play with his hair while he buries his face in your neck, becoming your own personal weighted blanket.

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Happy Monday! Here’s a little short i’m freeing that sat in my drafts forever!

cockwarming with gamer steve (michevious laughter)

Word count: 500

Masterlist:

With a sigh you walked up to Steve whom is sat in front of his PC with his headphones on, you wrap your arms around his back, your hands resting on his chest, “Steveeeeee” you pleaded, drawing out his name in a whine.

He moves one side of his headphones off his ear so he can hear you, his head turning slightly, his eyes still fixated on the screen, “what is it honey?” he asks sweetly. With a drag you pull your arms from off him and move to his side, your hands fiddling with his arm “Can we go to bed, I miss having you close to me” you plea softly.

His head turns again, a small pout forming on his lips. “Baby, just a few more rounds, okay? I promise.” he says, his gaze briefly meeting yours before returning to the screen.

Frustration welled up inside you and you couldn’t suppress the hint of sassiness in your tone, “No, Steve now” you whined once more.

Steve’s eyebrows lifted and he paused, his eyes shifting from the screen to yours then back to the screen, a mischievous grin spread across his face, his gaze meeting yours once again. “Well why don’t you keep me warm while I finish up?” he says, one hand moving from his keyboard, gripping your waist “You wanna be close? Then let’s be close. Come here.” he says, his hand pulling at the waist band of your panties a hint to remove them, you allow him to slide them off for you, holding your hand as you step out of them, then he pulls you to him before helping position you on his lap, your legs wrapping around him.

It’s a joined effort to get his pants down his legs, his hands were back on his keyboard as you took it upon yourself to sink onto his length, the feeling sends electricity down your body before being filled with warmth as you let him bury inside of you, molding perfectly to your walls, your head nuzzling into the crook of his neck. “That better baby?” “mhm” you hum nodding your head softly.

It’s quiet as Steve moves onto his next round, your eyes falling shut as you lay on him, keeping his cock nice and warm inside of you where it belongs, his relaxed breathing bringing you to sleep. You stir a bit in his lap but it causes his cock to move slightly inside of you, forcing his breath to jump and his attention to snap from his game, “Fuck baby can’t do that when i’m trying to focus” he coos into your ear, you mumble out a tired apology, burying your face into his neck even more, “s’okay baby, let’s get you to sleep” he says rubbing circles on your back, you hear his PC turn off and feel him stand up with you, bringing you guys to his bed before he softly lays you down, his body pressed close to yours as you fall asleep.

Masterlist: