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kisakis-boyfriend · 11 months ago

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hiii, I wanted to request male reader receiving Lyney, Lynette, and Freminet (separately) as a Christmas present? they’re naked, wrapped up in red ribbon, and presenting themselves on reader’s bed to be absolutely ravished. Please and thank you for your time!

Pairings: Lyney, Lynette, Freminet x male reader (separately)

Warnings: Male!reader, dom/top!reader, sub/bottom characters, adult characters, light bondage, vibrator (Lyney), Lynette is called 'babygirl', slutty Freminet

The dull buzzing reached your ears as soon as the door flung open. Your eyes focused on the part of the room that the buzzing was coming from; the side where your bed is located

A small gasp escapes you when you finally land on the little present left for you this year. None other than Lyney himself; tied up tightly with red ribbon, and a bullet vibe stuffed into his hole, hence the buzzing you heard earlier–

“Well, well. What's this now? A shiny, new toy for the holidays?” You began, making your way over to the bed and brushing your fingers against Lyney's knee. “Goodness, what did I do to deserve such a beautiful present?”

“L-like what you s-see? Ghn–! ” Lyney grit his teeth as a particular pulse from the toy occupying his hole hit him. Hours of being tied down with this thing endlessly massaging his guts had turned him into some oversensitive mess; reduced to a sweaty, flushed, orgasm-hungry man

The smirk on your lips made Lyney's hole twitch, aching for your touch already. “Oh, I like it alright. And just how did you get yourself into this configuration, darling?”

“A-a magician n-never reveals his s-s-secrets...Aaahh—!! ” Wanton moans fell from Lyney's lips easily. Bucking against nothing as his hard cock leaked onto his stomach, creating a pool of precum soaking into his happy trail

Curiously, you ghosted your fingers over his length, smirking at the gasps that it caused. Your fingers dipped inside of Lyney's cute hole and pressed the little vibe right up against his prostate, an action that had his small body writhing around in pleasure (and overstimulation)

Soon after that, he came. Intense enough to knock the wind right out of his lungs, Lyney moaned loudly as you ripped orgasm after orgasm from him — fingering his little hole, slapping his cock, stroking him in time with your thrusts. All without ever removing the vibe buried in his ass

“Mmm...mmph—!! Haa-aah—!! ” Muffled moans drew your attention to the closed door of your bedroom. Something — or rather, someone, was making a whole lot of noise inside...

Upon opening the door, your eyes were greeted with the intriguing and beautiful sight of Lynette; tied with a silky red ribbon that accentuated her curves nicely, ass up on the sheets and face buried in them

“Damn, Christmas isn't for another week, babe. What's all of this for?” You teased, strolling closer as the feline woman shivered. Placing a hand on the plump flesh of her ass has her arching into your touch, turning her head to face you with drool-stained lips and messy bangs

“M-merry Christmas, y-y/n~” Lynette breathed. “Do you– do you like y-your gift?”

How could you not? Your darling was kind enough to wrap herself in pretty ribbons and wait archons know how long for you to come home; presenting herself all for you. You could tell that she was excited too, in between Lynette's legs awaited a drooling, quivering pussy. Wet and ready for whatever you wanted to push inside

“Oh baby, it's the best present anyone's ever given to me. You're so thoughtful~” You said, swiftly plunging two fingers inside of her cunt, your dick twitched in your pants when you felt her insides. “Fuck...”

You wasted no time pulling out your cock and lubing it up with Lynette's juices, teasing the poor thing in the process. She involuntarily clenched around nothing; choking on a moan as you slapped her clit with your dick. When you finally pushed inside, she came immediately

Wet juices dripped down Lynette's thighs, falling onto the bedsheets in an obscene display. “Fuck– That was hot, babygirl. You must've been so desperate for so long, huh?”

The catgirl could only muster a whine as you began to thrust in and out, holding onto her hips and fucking her trembling body on your length. If she continues to squeeze your cock like this it will definitely be a white Christmas...

This was quite the surprise— Before you, laid bare except for the shiny red ribbon clinging to his body, was Freminet. Bound and gagged by that same ribbon, whimpering when your eyes met

“Shit. I don't even– Don't even know what to say.” Taking in the full picture in front of you had your dick growing harder and harder. Freminet's hole was wet and pulsating; his small cock hung over his stomach, stiff and dribbling onto the skin. Looks like he's just as desperate to be ravaged as you were to ravage him

You approached Freminet and stroked down his chest, admiring his beautiful skin. He was so flushed by this point, with red cheeks and shoulders, his little cock was red too. A sight that you so adored whenever you had the chance to see it

“Can I take this out? I wanna hear your pretty voice while I mess you up~” The blond nodded, allowing you to remove the gag

“Fuck me, y-y/n—!! Ple-ease...?” Oh, this was too cute. Freminet begging was such a weak point of yours. Without thinking, you freed your cock from its constraints and lined it up with your darling's pretty hole, pushing past that tight entrance and immediately feeling the warmth of his walls surround your dick

“Oooohh fuck yeah—!! Fuck...hhng–! ” You gasped, bottoming out right away as Freminet's walls sucked you in. Already about to cum just from this. The trembling boy beneath you was cockdrunk; his eyes had crossed and his lips parted in a pornographic display

“H-har-der...h-harder, please!! Oh fuck...” Freminet managed, consumed by the need to be your precious cumdump

“Yeah? You're spoiling me, baby boy. Fuck—!! ” Your thrusts sped up, now pounding into Freminet's tight ass with growing lust. You need to cum so badly, need to fill him up— and as long as Freminet moans the way he is now, you'll fill him up nice and full

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screwitbaby · 18 days ago

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date night

hamzahthefantastic x reader

summary: hamzah had made a reservation for you two to go on a date night, only to miss it and have to make it up to you ;)

contains: smut, fluff, general NSFW content

a/n: hiii this is my first post pls go easy on me and the song is just there bc i feel like it applies to how i feel abt hamzah (also that pic of him is ridiculous but i love it muahaha)

You couldn’t believe it. You were sitting in this boujee Italian restaurant, all dolled up and quite frankly famished, waiting for your boyfriend to magically appear an hour after you had agreed to meet.

The waiter came to check on you for the upteenth time when you decided you’d had enough humiliation for the night. You finished the last of the white wine in your glass and ordered an Uber.

When you got home, you stripped of your dress and heels, eyeing the desecration of your room that took form during the process of you getting ready for the night. You could’ve been at his place by now, but instead you were stuck cleaning up the reminder of your failed date.

You were strewn across the couch in just a T-shirt, absentmindedly watching a movie when you heard knocking on your apartment door. You got up to look into the peephole and sighed. You unlocked it without even opening it. You refused to look at him, simply walking to the couch and focusing on the TV.

“Baby, I’m so so sorry,” Hamzah said once he was inside.

Your vision was obstructed by a bouquet of flowers; an array of purple hyacinth, phlox, and snowdrop amidst green tuberose stalks that had yet to bloom. You took them from his hands and placed them in a vase on the kitchen counter, all while he was following you like a kicked puppy and apologizing.

“I cried all my makeup off,” you said.

“I’m so sorry,” he repeated. “I was trying to finish up the video with Martin, but our footage got corrupted and—I’m sorry. I know I fucked up.”

“At least you know,” you mumbled, fiddling with the flowers. You tried not to cry but some tears escaped despite your best efforts.

“I promise I’ll make it up to you.” He walked up behind you and put his hands on your waist. “You can slap me if you want.”

“Hamzah,” you sighed. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

“I’m serious,” he said, grazing his fingertips across your sides. “I thought I could get it done and make it to our date, but I only made you upset. I’m a fool.”

He began kissing your shoulder and you melted into his embrace. His lips trailed all the way up your neck to your cheek. You tilted your head to the side and exhaled.

“I’m so stupid,” he said in between placing chaste kisses on your skin. “Why would I do that to my babygirl?”

You turned around in his arms and crossed yours, finally making eye contact. “Is this your idea of ‘making it up to me’?”

“I don’t know,” he said, running a hand through his already disheveled hair. “Is it working?”

He was still in his dress clothes and you found it so annoying how even through your dejection, you still found him so charming.

“If you have to ask…”

He tilted his head and smiled with his tongue in his cheek. “It’s not funny.”

“It isn’t, babe,” he said, hands finding your hips again. “I just can’t stand you being angry at me.”

“Then don’t make me angry.”

“And your lips are swollen and your eyes are red from crying,” he continued on, swiping your tears away with his thumb. “But I still can’t fathom how beautiful you are. I don’t know what I was thinking.”

He held you against him and placed kisses on your neck, right on your pulse. You felt him begin to suck and held back a moan, not wanting to give in just yet.

“I don’t deserve you,” he whispered, kissing the splotchy red mark he left.

“Show me that you do,” you said.

He pulled away to look you in your eyes. “Show you?”

You raised your eyebrows, waiting for him to make a move. He got the hint and took your hand to lead you to your bedroom, all too familiar with the floor plan of your apartment. When you arrived at the bed, he lied down and pulled you on top of him. Then, his lips pressed against yours.

You immediately licked at his lips, not wanting to take it slow. Your movements were fueled by anger, his passion. You hated how quickly you’d respond to his advances, so you made sure he’d know you weren’t there to make love.

Your mouths clashed and your palms laid flat on his chest, holding you up as you tried to get as close to each other as possible, to becoming one. You ground your hips against his, already feeling his dick rising to attention against you. He held your hair back with one hand as the two of you got more insatiable.

Your clothes came off and he pulled your panties to the side, his fingers touching you where you needed him most. You moaned against his lips, rocking yourself against his digits that were covered in your slick. It was when you reached down into his boxers that he stopped you, a string of spit still connecting you.

“It’s all about you tonight, baby,” he said, breathless.

He hastily pulled you up his torso and you would’ve lost your balance if he wasn’t holding you in place. He pressed a kiss against your clothed clit and you shivered, biting your lip.

“Take it off,” he growled, so you did.

With you grabbing the headboard, he pulled you down in one swift motion onto his face. His tongue swiped up your wetness and a moan ripped through your throat at the sudden contact. He showed no mercy, palms grasping at your ass to rock you harder against him as he fucked his tongue in and out of you. As his nose rubbed against your clit deliciously, you called his name out like a prayer.

One of his hands reached up to pinch at your nipples and you gasped, slipping your hand into his curls and pulling. He groaned and the vibrations sent shockwaves through you that only pushed you closer to the finish line. He ate you without breaking apart for a single breath. Blinding white heat filled your veins when he began desperately suctioning his lips on your clit and it was all getting to be too much.

“Cum for me,” he mumbled against your heat.

Something awakened within you when you felt the stinging sensation of a smack against your ass. The obscene sound of his moans against you echoing through the room. His saliva mixed with your arousal and creating a wet friction that had your eyes rolling back into your head. You couldn’t take it anymore.

You rode his face with shaky legs, crying out as your orgasm racked through your body and turned your brain to mush. He held you down and torturously nipped at your skin, kissing and licking at your thighs and pubic bone. He didn’t stop until he had lapped up all of you. When you’d finally had enough, you held his hands and climbed off, sitting up against the headboard to try and collect yourself.

Oxygen filled your lungs for the first time in what felt like hours. You looked to your left, watching him clean the traces of you on his face and lick it off his fingers. You groaned and turned on your side to nuzzle yourself into his rapidly rising and falling chest.

“I love you,” he said. You leaned up to kiss him lazily, tasting yourself on his lips. “And I’m sorry for tonight.”

“I know. I love you,” you replied, resting your cheek on his pec and gently tracing his happy trail with your finger. “I don’t like that restaurant much, anyway.”

He huffed out a laugh at your words. “For real?”

“Yeah, I only go ‘cause it’s your favorite,” you admitted. “I’d prefer your cooking.”

He laughed again and you dug your face into his bouncing chest, biting back your smile.

“I wish you told me that before I made you cry,” he whispered. The same relentless fingers that were inside you just minutes before delicately ghosted across your spine.

“You know what would really make it up to me?” You placed your chin atop your hands and stared at his big brown eyes.

“Hmm?” He gently wiped the remnants of mascara from under your eyes.

“If you made me some food. Now.”

He grinned and kissed your forehead before getting up from bed, making you whine. He tossed one of his shirts on the bed for you and you pulled it on.

“I’m making spaghetti bolognese.” He leaned against the doorframe with his arms crossed and you shamelessly took in the sight of his biceps flexing. “How’s that sound, baby?”

“Perfect,” you sighed. He began to retreat down the hall until you called out his name. “What about you?”

You motioned towards his dick and he shook his head. “Who said I was done with you?”

a/n: AHHHH lmk if u liked it !!!

#hamzahthefantastic #hamzah x reader #slushy noobz #slushy virus #hamzahsmut #first post #hamzah fluff #hamzah fic

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amirasainz · 27 days ago

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Hiii I love your blog so much. It always makes me so happy when you post something♥️😘

Can you write like Oscar x reader, where they are both in university and they always meet in the library. It's like the silent love and they slowly fall in love with each other.

Enjoy reading and send some requests

-xoxo, Babygirl 💋

The quiet kind of love

The first time Oscar noticed Yn, she was sitting three tables away from him in Oxford’s grand Bodleian Library. He wouldn’t have given her a second glance if it weren’t for the fact that she was always there. Every evening, just after 6 PM, Oscar would settle in at his usual spot by the arched windows, and without fail, she would be somewhere nearby, always engrossed in her books.

It became a quiet routine. They both came to the library at the same time, stayed until it closed, and left without exchanging a word. The first week, it was coincidence. The second, it became an unspoken ritual.

Oscar was the kind of student who liked order. His desk was neatly arranged with color-coded notes, pencils lined up with perfect precision. He had come to Oxford with a scholarship to study history, and he took every second seriously. He told himself that he didn’t have time for distractions, and Yn, sitting quietly at her table, wasn’t one. But still, he noticed her.

Yn had a quiet intensity about her. She studied with the same focus and determination that Oscar did, but there was something different about the way she immersed herself in her work. Where Oscar’s approach was clinical, Yn’s was passionate. Her fingers would glide through pages, her pencil tapping against the desk when she was deep in thought. She studied literature, and every so often, Oscar would glance up and see her smiling slightly at whatever she was reading.

For a long time, they didn’t speak. Neither one seemed inclined to break the silence. It wasn’t awkward, though. The quietness of their shared space felt right, like they both understood the importance of the library and their respective work. It was a kind of peaceful companionship.

Then one evening, as the early chill of October settled into the old stone walls, Oscar glanced up from his notes and saw Yn sitting at her usual spot. But this time, there was something different. She had a takeaway coffee cup in front of her, and without thinking, she stood up and walked over to him.

Oscar blinked in surprise as Yn set the cup down next to his laptop. “I noticed you always look exhausted by the time we leave,” she said, her voice soft and even. “Thought you might need this.”

He didn’t know what to say. His brain stalled for a moment before he managed to mumble, “Thanks.”

Yn nodded, a small, polite smile on her face, and returned to her seat. That was it. A coffee, a thank you, and then back to silence.

The next evening, when Oscar arrived, he brought two packets of biscuits with him. After half an hour, he quietly stood up and walked to her table. Yn looked up, her wide, curious eyes meeting his for a second before she noticed the snacks.

“Here,” he said simply, holding them out. “I figured you might get hungry.”

Yn’s lips curved into a full smile this time, not the reserved one he had seen before. She took the biscuits with a small nod. “Thank you, Oscar.”

He felt a warmth spread through him, hearing her say his name for the first time. How did she know? Then he remembered their IDs had been out on the table one time when the librarian was checking their books, and she must have caught a glimpse. He liked how his name sounded in her voice—like it was meant to be there.

“See you tomorrow?” she asked, more a statement than a question.

“Yeah,” Oscar replied, surprised by how natural it felt.

From then on, every evening they brought small things for each other—Yn’s coffee, Oscar’s snacks, sometimes even a scribbled note with a suggestion for a book they thought the other would enjoy. They still didn’t talk much, but the silence between them felt comfortable, not awkward. There was something more than just the quiet. It was shared, and it was theirs.

Weeks passed, and as November approached, the air grew cooler. Oscar found himself looking forward to the evenings more than ever. It wasn’t just the books or the studying—it was the simple act of seeing Yn, knowing she would be there.

One Friday, the library was quieter than usual. Most students had gone home early for the weekend, but Oscar and Yn remained, tucked into their usual places. After about two hours, Oscar stretched, his back aching from sitting so long, and when he looked over at Yn, she was staring at him.

She blinked, caught off guard for a moment, then smiled. “Want to take a break?” she asked, her voice soft.

Oscar hesitated. They had never taken breaks together before. But he nodded, feeling something stir in his chest. “Yeah. Let’s go for a walk.”

They left the library and wandered through the cobbled streets of Oxford, the night air crisp and cold. Their breath hung in the air like ghosts, and for the first time, they talked.

Yn spoke about her love for literature, her fascination with stories that revealed something hidden about the world. Oscar shared his passion for history, for the way people and events could shape entire civilizations. They walked for hours, moving from topic to topic as if they had always known each other. It wasn’t forced; the conversation flowed easily, like it had been waiting to happen.

“I’ve always thought Oxford was the perfect place to study,” Yn said as they paused by a bridge, watching the river flow beneath them. “The history here, the way the buildings seem to have stories of their own… It feels like the right place to find something, or someone.”

Oscar turned to look at her, the moonlight casting a silver glow on her features. He wanted to ask her what she meant by “someone,” but instead, he just said, “Yeah, it does.”

When they returned to the library, neither of them mentioned the walk. But from that night on, something had changed. They no longer sat in complete silence; sometimes, one would quietly comment on a passage they were reading, and the other would respond. They didn’t need to talk much, but the few words they shared each night felt more meaningful than entire conversations with anyone else.

By December, their routine had deepened. One evening, when Yn arrived, Oscar was already there, waiting with her coffee and a small smile. She sat down, and without thinking, reached across the table, her fingers lightly brushing his hand. She started to pull away, embarrassed, but Oscar’s hand moved to meet hers.

The touch was brief, barely more than a second, but it felt like something had shifted. Neither of them spoke about it, but from that night on, their hands would meet under the table, fingers brushing, lingering longer each time. It wasn’t something they planned or discussed, but it felt natural, like a quiet confession they both understood.

One evening, after the library had emptied, Yn leaned over her desk and whispered, “Do you ever feel like this is the best part of the day?”

Oscar looked up from his notes, surprised by her sudden admission. “Yeah,” he said honestly. “I do.”

She smiled, her eyes soft. “I like this. Us.”

“Me too,” Oscar said quietly. His heart was pounding, and before he could stop himself, he reached across the table and took her hand fully in his. This time, she didn’t pull away.

The weeks leading up to Christmas were filled with more moments like that. They spent their evenings together, sometimes in silence, sometimes whispering small things to each other. They held hands more often now, not hiding it under the table but keeping them interlocked where they could see. It was as if every day, they allowed themselves to fall a little more into the connection they had been building.

Then, one night, just as the library was about to close, Yn looked over at Oscar, her eyes serious. “Oscar,” she said softly.

“Yeah?”

She hesitated, as if searching for the right words, then spoke. “I think I’m falling in love with you.”

Oscar stared at her, the words settling over him like a blanket. He knew, in that moment, that he felt the same. He had felt it for weeks but hadn’t been able to put it into words.

“I think I’m falling in love with you too,” he said, his voice steady but full of emotion.

Yn smiled, her eyes shining. And for the first time, they both understood that the quiet library, the long nights, the coffee and biscuits—it had all led to this. Their unspoken connection had turned into something real, something they could no longer ignore.

Oscar leaned across the table, and in the soft glow of the library’s lamps, he kissed her, gently, just for a moment. It was a quiet kiss, fitting for the quiet love that had grown between them.

When they pulled away, Yn’s smile widened. “Let’s keep meeting here,” she whispered.

“Always,” Oscar replied, knowing that now, the library was more than just a place to study. It was where they had found each other.

And so, they did.

#formula 1 #formula 1 x reader #oscar piastri #xoxo babygirl 💋#oscar piastri x reader #oscar piastri x you #lando norris x reader #charles leclerc x reader #max verstappen x reader #lewis hamilton x reader #fluff #f1 x reader

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colourstreakgryffin · 7 months ago

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Hiii! Can I request headcanons on what vox would be like as a father of a teen daughter? I feel like he'd be great to gossip with and would tell her to slap any boy that hits on her

Vox absolutely fucking would do this, and he is that type of girl dad to loudly brag that his Princess is cuter than every other father’s! Vox be like: ‘You wish your daughter was as cute as mine’

Vox- Baby Laptop

Vox is extremely doting and loving but extremely protective. Like, he has cameras and drones following you, his fourteen year old human life AND demon life daughter, around all the time. You can’t leave the tower without him knowing and he won’t condone you walking around Hell without ALL his bodyguards escorting you

Vox is a bragger. He brags and he flexes what he has so when it comes to you, he is one-upping every known mother and father in the Pride Ring and flaunting his precious babygirl with no hesitation. You’re beautiful and Hell deserves to bask in your presence… according to Vox

Remember, your dad is the technology Overlord. The one in charge of every device in this city, so of course, he is kept to date with every trend or phrase or online concept and he always gives you the latest model his slaves team created. He spoils you since it’s a symbol of his love

Vox is basically your best gossip buddy and no matter how busy he is, he’ll make time to talk to you. Call him, he’ll answer and whilst he works, he’ll listen to you and he remembers it. He has a good open ear and a good sense of ‘fuck you all’ so he’ll get rather into your gossip pieces and consider asking Velvette to spread them through her social media influence

Vox is more than capable of getting sweet, soft and emotive with you. He always proclaims to you, with his whole heart, that he puts you out because he’s proud of you and adores you and he wants you to have everything when back on Earth, he could barely give you anything

Yes. Vox loves you MORE than he likes messing with Valentino so if Valentino dares to hit you, your father is bolting across the room at mach speeds to make his on-and-off boyfriend regret putting his hands on you. You’re his spoiled little princess and nobody touches you! You’re too valuable!

Vox has a picture of you in his wallet and in his suit pocket. So, whilst he is working tirelessly throughout the days and hasn’t seen you in a while. He’ll pick either photograph out and admire it. Both are direct recreations of photographs he owned when both of you were humans

Like Carmilla Carmine with her two daughters, Vox likes to have you occasionally work for him and occasionally means occasionally. Vox only cares that you’re happy so if you want to spend all day everyday in your big fancy room in his tower free of stress, he lets it!

However. Vox, of course, teaches you important life skills. He didn’t get a chance to when both of you were humans on Earth so he is now. Every night, he teaches you to cook recipes, he teaches you to do basic chores, he teaches you how to balance any money you earn

Vox almost views you as the cute babygirl he had back on Earth. The little five year old that was so happy to see him come home after so long of working so hard as a TV salesman in the late 1940s. The little girl who needed him to go to sleep at night, the precious darling who claimed she’d grow up and become a saleswoman too!

Vox does baby you and he doesn’t regret it. He coodles, he snuggles, he baby talks, he coos. He does all of it because he loves you dearly, you’re the single thing that drove him to become a Overlord, you’re the single thing that motivated him to become one of the strongest Overlords in Hell, you’re the single thing that even brought him to work with technology

Vox had always taught you; ‘if a boy or a girl hits on you, slap them’ and that became your norm. You come home, Vox asks what happened and you tell him. He is always happy to hear that you don’t let anybody bother you

The only criticism or advice Vox will take for his products is you so when you say something doesn’t work or needs improvement. He takes it and throws it as his workers so they can fix up what you said. He doesn’t care what his clients think, he cares what his own flesh and blood thinks

Vox loves how you have his TV head and even gets you to wear a matching outfit with him as a cute father-daughter joke. He likes it, it’s adorable. You look like such a badass business lady! He is that type of dad that will embarrass you with how much he loves you

Talking about a father-daughter situation, Vox has the weekends booked all for you. Two father-daughter days out so you two go to the shops, get drinks, gossip more, talk shit about Alastor, go egg the Hazbin Hotel, get some shopping then go to visit the Vees to chat then pick up a movie suggestion to go watch a movie together! Vox loves these days since he is truly himself with you

Vox legit has you in his contacts as the following; ‘My precious darling princess’

“Darling, Princess. It’s time to wake up, we’re going out together! Yes. To the movies and to the shops. I heard that old timey prick is in a Hotel so let’s go egg it once we’re done, ‘kay? Great, I’ll be waiting for you, pumpkin”

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activesplooger · 2 months ago

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𝒯𝒽𝑒 𝑀𝑜𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝒜𝒻𝓉𝑒𝓇 | 𝐿𝓊𝒸𝒾𝒻𝑒𝓇 𝓍 𝑅𝑒𝒶𝒹𝑒𝓇 | 𝐻𝒶𝓏𝒷𝒾𝓃 𝐻𝑜𝓉𝑒𝓁 | 𝐹𝓁𝓊𝒻𝒻

Notes: hiii <3 i hope ygs like this!! im not great at fluff, ill admit BUT lucifer is j so babygirl so it turned out pretty cute!! im writing this fresh out of a writing block so sorry if it isn;t my best, i promise ill do better luci fics in the future!! <33

Summary: You made the drunken choice of sleeping with your friend, whom you've always had a crush on. It's the morning after and your mind races with the possibility of this being a one-time deal. However, Lucifer makes it clear that he's in this for the long run...

CW: fluff!!! (angst just a weeee bit)

Word Count: 1,184 (bit of a short one)

Masterpost!

Sunlight light filters through the blinds of your window, effectively waking you up from your slumber. You groggily sit up, putting a hand to your throbbing forehead. "Ughh..." you groan as you feel the effects of a hangover coming along.

Last night, you and your friend went to the bar for drinks and a general catch-up on life. The two of you had way too much to drink and got absolutely wasted. Friendly flirting turned into drunken caresses and somehow escalated into Lucifer pressing you against the wall of your apartment as you made out. And now, you're here. Yeah, it was kind of a blur...

You turn to look at the space next to you on your bed. Empty. "Fuck" you mutter, dragging a hand down your face as you try to process everything. He had left. Shit, what'd you expect? You try to downplay it as another meaningless one-night stand, but truthfully, you hoped this was more than a brief sexual connection. Your feelings for him got the better of you last night, and now he's gone...

At least with the one-night stands, they gave enough red flags to give you an idea of what you're getting into. But Luci? He's such a sweetheart, well, you thought he was... He'd always do sweet little gestures: hugging, making plans to hang out, complimenting, gifts, favors- the whole 5 love languages! Was this all just friendly behavior? You were sure he at least had some type of feelings for you. Maybe it was just sexual attraction. Still, Lucifer seemed different than the others.

Letting out a grumpy whine, you hop out of bed and slip on a robe and slippers. As you stand up, you get the faint whiff of- pancakes? Curiously, you step out of your room and peek into the kitchen.

To your surprise, you see Lucifer standing at the stove, humming the tune of a song while flipping a pancake. He slides the pancake off the pan and onto a plate. He repeats this process until he makes a stack of pancakes topped with butter, syrup, and whipped cream. You continue to watch the angel from the doorway, still not believing that he really stayed.

Lucifer picks up the plate and turns around. His eyes fall on you as he turns, your presence catching him off guard. "AH!" he shrieks, losing his grip on the plate before grabbing it back. Sighing in relief, he smiles at you, "Ah, there you are, my dear! How'd you sleep?". Still in shock that he didn't leave, you manage to murmur, "You're still here...?".

"Yes?" he replies, head tilting in confusion, "why would I leave?". "Well, I thought you would've-" you start to explain, but you decide against it. His little heart would prob break if he knew that you thought he'd leave, “Never mind. A-anyways, what's that you're making?”.

The angel looks up at you with a soft smile as he holds out the plate to you, “Pancakes.”. Taking the plate from him, you look down at the food. The pancakes were light and fluffy, perfectly cooked to a golden brown with neatly placed toppings. “Thank you, Luci…”.

Walking toward your kitchen table, you take a seat. Lucifer grabs his own plate of pancakes and quickly follows behind you, sitting beside you.

The room fell silent, the only sounds being the clanking of cutlery and the soft sound of chewing. Your mind was too busy trying to comprehend the fact that the angel wasn't being a total dick to you right now. Your eyes stay fixed on the plate below you, afraid that if you look up, he might take a second look at you and leave... Do you deserve his kindness? You sure felt like you didn't. But here you are, eating pancakes with the most beautiful angel in creation.

You finally pry your eyes away from your plate and look up at him. He's humming the same tune from before while eating his pancakes. There's a gleeful smile on his face that you can't help but admire. He's absolutely ethereal. Looking at him brings you out of your state of self-doubt and builds a determination in you to fight for this angel. You didn't want for him to go, and you were gonna do everything you could to make sure he wouldn't. Something in your gut told you to hang onto this one.

Suddenly, Lucifer's eyes meet yours, a cheeky grin stretched across his face, "See somethin' you like~?". Ah shit, your little staring session was interrupted! Pink dusts your cheeks as you feel your face getting hotter. You struggle not to stumble over your words, "I- Uh- Well-." A giggle cuts you off, "Don't be so embarrassed! It's cute.". Exhaling softly, you softly smile at him. He thought you were 'cute'...

You go back to eating your pancakes, the word 'cute' repeating in your mind as you relish that he thinks of you like that. Smiling to yourself as you eat, you suddenly feel a pair of eyes on you. Lifting your head up, you make eye contact with Lucifer. The angel beams at you, but there's a mischievous element to his expression. Swallowing your food, you ask, "What's that look for?".

Lucifer gets up out of his seat and rushes toward you. He lifts you up effortlessly and carries you across the room. When you try to protest, all you get in response are giggles. Stopping at the couch, he gently tosses you down on the cushions. You speak between amused laughter, "Pft, what the hell are you doing?".

Lucifer leaps onto the couch and onto you, his arms wrapping around you and flipping the both of you so that you're on top of him. A small "Umph!" escapes your throat as he lands on top of you, but you melt is his embrace as your laid on top of him.

"Soooo," he begins, "Here's what I was planning...". You tilt your head up at him, listening to what he has to say. " First, eat a delicious breakfast, check," his hands tangle in your hair, playing with the silky strands as he speaks, "Thennn, I was hoping- I-If you're up for it, of course! Maybe we could go for a walk in the park and grab lunch?". Lucifer scans your face for your reaction, panicking a little as he wheezes, "U-Uh unless you have plans! Oh God-".

"You want to?" you ask softly. "Well, of course. You're lovely..." he admits sheepishly. You feel a grin creeping out through your teeth. Before, you were worried that he wouldn't stay- Now you're not sure if you could get him to leave! (not that you wanted to of course). Nodding your head, you agree, "Of course, that sounds great!".

The rest of the day goes great! You both finally have a sober talk about your feelings for eachother, getting your feelings off your chest. The two of you spend the rest of the day together, cuddling, going out for lunch, and ending the day off with a bit of 'intimate time'. <3

<333 enjoy! i love him sm akfiuefhiuswfwenfwnfkwef. this isn't edited. i finally sat my ass down and wrote again so yayy!!!!

#hazbin hotel #hazbin #hazbin x reader #hazbin lucifer #lucifer morningstar #lucifer #lucifer x reader #reader x lucifer #lucifer fluff #lucifer morningstar fluff #hazbin fluff #fanfic fluff #lucifer x reader fluff #reader x lucifer fluff #lucifer morningstar hazbin

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mutiny-huyutiny · 3 months ago

Text

hello sealalogic au

context under the cut

so. well. say hi to artemisia. she is originally burdas fankid however in this particular au shes a nerp. her story is kinda based on kroshik, hes a nerp with a long funny story but in short terms he preferred to stay in aquarium and he was too friendly with people which is dangerous for an animal. anyways, artemisia was saved when she was a couple of days, her mother died in the fishnets and she was left alone, unable to go. fishnets had left a scar on her body (which i - excuse me - havent designed yet), so it's easy to spot her out of other seals.

she was rescued by burakh and dankovsky and they basically became her foster parents, training, socializing and taking other care of her.

with that, they tried to let her go in a couple of years and she came back after half of an hour. they decided to prepare her better and again, after some time, they let her swam and the attempt seemed successful until they saw viral videos of a very friendly cute seal! <3 and they were like yeah this one is ours. fuck. last people who had seen her were vlad jr and kapella who had a boat trip and well. artemisia decided shes going with the. so basically they took her back and artemisia was in the aquarium again.

and for the third time, they tried to let her go again, but at the same day she successfully had found grief and stakh, who were catching fish that night (like. 1 am.) and, of course, drinking bear. so artemisia became their guest. gried were like omg hiii babygirl have some bear. stakh take a photo. and then they just video called burakh in the middle of night and were like hey thats yours. and he was like fuck yeah danya wake up lets go take this little dummy home for the last time.

so now artemisia lives happily in the aquarium and eats a lot of fish :)

#yes shes based on kroshik #pathologic #drawing #art #illustration #artists on tumblr #digital illustration #digital art #daniil dankovsky #artemy burakh #burakhovsky #kinda. artemisia is their fankid #bad grief #seals

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wooyoungmybelovedhusband · 7 months ago

Note

hiii can i pls request a smut prompt 3,4 and 13 with wooyoung? obsessed with ur writing <3

ᴅʀᴀʙʙʟᴇ #2

PAIRING: Dom! Wooyoung x F! Reader

CONTENT/WARNINGS: Degradation, edging, overstimulation, fingering, oral (f receiving), Mean! Wooyo

PROMPTS USED:

"How many rounds do you think you can go before you turn into a whiny mess"

"You wouldn't run your mouth like this when I egde you till you're digging your nails into the sheets and begging me like a bitch in heat."

"The more you beg for me to go faster, the slower I move to torture you."

Loud moans resonated throughout the room, your moans could be much interpreted like broken cries. Wooyoung's hand worked it's way slowly I side your cunt, curlimg up at the right times to bring you closer to your orgasm real quick – just for him to pull away at your pleas. He had a menacing smile on his face as he watched the way tears rolled down your eyes every time he pulled his hand an inch away from your cunt.

“Told you, you wouldn't be running your mouth when I edge you till you're digging your nails into the sheets and begging for me like a bitch in heat.” And you were indeed digging your perfectly done nails into the sheets while your babbled pathetically under him.

His hands yet again moved in between your thigh, one hand caressing your inner thigh while his other hand rubbed circles over your clit yet again. Your brain felt too mushy to even know how many orgasms you were denied for the night – but that didn't stop you from letting out a series of ‘faster’ and ‘please’.

Wooyoung’s free hand came up to cradle your neck softly, his plumpy lips pressing kisses softly mirroring his fingers who moved slower than ever in your abused hole. “The more you beg me to go faster, the slower I move to torture you, princess.”

His lips captured yours in a kiss right after, his fingers curling up at your G-spot causing you to moan into the kiss, your legs arching in pleasure. Pulling away, Wooyoung shot you an assuring smile, “Perhaps I should let my baby cum shouldn't I? You did so well for me babygirl.” Your hear almost skips a beat from his gentle tone, contradicting his actions the whole night.

His fingers instantly thrust faster inside you, and your orgasm washed over you within seconds. Your vision almost turns white from the intensity of your high that you barely notice Wooyoung buried his face in between your thighs.

A screams falls off your lips when you feel his tongue lick up a stripe of your throbbing lips, before completely latching his soft lips onto your clit. If you could comprehend the lewd noises filling the room from Wooyoung sucking harder on your clit – you would be beetred. But all you could do was grip the sheets harder as your back arched against the mattress.

Your thighs threatened to close around him if not for his hands pressing them down on the mattress. His tongue licks at you harshly, licking off your seeping slick. Your voice turned hoarse from the loud moans that left you, your hands finding home in between his long hair strands. Your hands tried to push him off weakly only for his hand to grasp your wrists tightly.

His tongue moved faster inside you, lapping at your juices. And within seconds you felt your second orgasm rush over you in split seconds. You yell out Wooyoung’s name resulting in a satisfied grin taking over his face as he pulled away. Your body writhed underneath his figure.

Your boyfriend let you take a few long breaths, leaning down to kiss butterfly kisses all over your stomach in order to solthe your nerves.

It was only for a while before your felt his thick fingers rubbing your sensitive bud again. “How many times do you think you can go before you turn into a whiny mess, darling?” His fingers invaded your pussy yet again, scissoring your warm throbbing walls as he kissed your inner thighs, biting a little to leave lovebites all over your thighs. Gosh will this be your longest night – but did you really mind?

#ateez #ateez smut #wooyoung smut #ateez imagines #ateez smut imagines #ateez x reader #wooyoung #wooyoung imagines #ateez x reader smut #wooyoung x reader smut #wooyoung x reader #ateez hard hours #ateez hard thoughts #ateez drabbles #wooyoung drabble

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linos-luna · 8 months ago

Note

Hiii

Could you write a one shot about johnny x yn, he is the tutor of yn, they have going on a lot of sexual tension the last sessions, and johnny was just craving oral sex…so he says “if you do this correctly i’ll go down on you, but if you are wrong, you suck me, deal?” She says yes…you decide which one happens first. If you could add a lot of praise from johnny to yn would be awesome.

Thanks

Hope u have time

This was fun. Sorry it took forever. Im still recovering from my injuries 😅

But I’m back now!

——————————————————————

Lessons ❣️

Johnny x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Oral (both receiving), SMUT, dirty talk, praise kink, pet names

—————————————————— 💚

There was always tension. He’s tutoring you in statistics but how could you concentrate when he was just so… hot. Likewise, Johnny also found himself very attracted to you. He couldn’t help toying with you. Little touches and sly comments during every lesson to drive you nuts. Although you act like it doesn’t bother you, it very much does.

Today was different. Something about your cute skirt and innocent confused expression when not fully understanding a concept. It drove him nuts. He wants you.

Johnny wants relief. He wants you to suck him off while he fucks your throat. He wants to feel you gag around his cock as he pulls on your hair. He wants to cum on your face watch your filthy expressions. He wants to see your eyes crossed and cock drunk. It was getting him hard just thinking about it. Surely, you wouldn’t mind.

“Johnny… Johnny!” You called out, snapping him out of his thoughts.

“Oh! Sorry!” He chuckled.

“I finished.” You said with a smile as he stood behind you.

“Yeah? Do you think that you understand now…? Normal distribution charts can be difficult.”

“Maybe…” I said, blushing as he was very close to your neck. “Y-you’ll have to check.”

“Maybe?” He teased while rubbing your sides. “Have you not been paying attention?”

“W-well…” you felt yourself getting heated, just his light touch was getting you worked up. Was this on purpose? You weren’t sure and it was making your head spin.

“Well what?” Johnny asked while slowly running his one hand up your skirt. “Not paying attention…?”

“I-I… I pay attention…” I replied with a a deep breath, feeling the pads of his fingers touching your clothed cunt. You closed your eyes and let out some breathy moans.

“I don’t know about that, babygirl…” he smirked, moving his hand from your waist to your neck. “Looks like you’re thinking about something else…” he chuckled while holding your chin before sliding his fingers in your underwear.

You moaned at the feeling as he felt around your folds then rubbed your clit with his thumb.

“I think that your mind is somewhere else, huh?”

You whimpered at the feeling, finding it difficult to not throw your head back in pleasure. You bucked your hips to feel more friction.

“Do you like that baby?” He teased, whispering in your ear. “You want more right?”

“Mmhm-…” you managed to get out.

“Yes? More?”

“Yes Johnny…” you moaned.

“Just love being touched…” he teased. “Are you really that dirty? I thought you were innocent.”

“I-I-….” It was hard to get any words out. “J-Johnny—…. Please…”

“My sweet girl… let me check that paper for you first.” He smirked, knowing it was driving you nuts. “I’ll have to make some corrections… unless they’re all right?”

“Y-yes Johnny…”

The man smirk as he snaked his free hand from your waist to your breast, disregarding the bra that was in the way.

“How about I make you a deal?” He said while pinching your sensitive nipple. “I’m willing to help you out, babygirl…”

You only nodded, trying to focus on his words.

“I’ll check your work…” he started. "if you do this correctly i'll go down on you, but if you are wrong, you suck me, deal?"

“A-ah! Johnny!” You moaned out loud suddenly, feeling him pinch at your sensitive cunt.

“Got it?”

“Mmm… okay…” you replied in a shaky voice as he looked over your work.

While he checked your work, Johnny kept his hand in your panties, only rubbing your clit slightly as he used his other hand to trace down the paper. You whimpered, lightly bucking your hips against his fingers.

“Well darn…” he said in a teasing voice. “You got it wrong… your margin of error is off…”

“O-oh.”

“You know what that means, hm?” He said with a sly laugh.

“Y-yes, Johnny…” you nodded while getting to your knees. Johnny was surprised you were actually going to do it and quickly pulled down his pants and boxers.

You looked up at him with a giggle, slowly stroking him while staring him straight in the eyes.

“T-Teasing me?” Her groaned while looking back, finding you incredibly cute and innocent.

You smiled and started sucking on the tip, looking up at him with innocent eyes. You would suck the tip and pull back, watching as your spit connected to it.

“F-fuck…” he groaned while holding onto your hair.

You continued to rub his cock with your hands as you started taking more in your mouth. He was big and it was impossible to get him fully in without gagging. You kept going, bobbing your head while moaning, making the man lose his mind.

Drool ran down your chin as he bucked his hips before his grip on your hair tightened.

Johnny couldn’t handle your slow teasing and started thrusting his hips more, holding onto you as he fucked your throat. He threw his head back and let out some breathy moans.

His needy moans only turned you on more and you felt how soaked your underwear really was.

“Open.” He said sternly as you opened your mouth. “I wanna see it…”

You smirked and laid his hard cock on your tongue that stuck out of your mouth. You continue to rub it against your tongue until he released, his white substance dripping from your mouth to your chin, looking absolutely filthy.

“God…” he panted while pulling you up by the hair. “I haven’t even checked the other problem yet… don’t tease me, girl…”

After pulling you up, he pulled his boxers up and went back to checking your work as if nothing happened.

Johnny looked through the last problem, smirking when finished. “Well it seems that you got this one right, babygirl.”

“O-oh…. U-um…” you stuttered as he grabbed your waist, lifting you onto the desk.

“My good girl deserves her reward now, hm?”

You only blushed, feeling even hotter as he slowly lowered your pant and underwear.

Johnny put your legs over his shoulders and licked a stride across your wet cunt with no warning. You moaned a bit loud and quickly slapped your hand over your mouth, making the man chuckle.

“Why are you covering up, baby?” He teased. “I wanna hear everything…” the man groaned against your cunt, practically making you twitch as you roll your eyes back. It was hard to control yourself.

Perhaps you were already hot and aroused from earlier, or you were just horny when seeing him in general.

“F-fuck—… j-Johnny…” your moans were shaky and light as he ate you out with no mercy. The pleasure started becoming too much as his tongue touched your sensitive bud.

You could barely keep your eyes open at the intense pleasure and you found yourself whining.

“What’s wrong, baby?” He teased while he added some more teasing licks.

“Mmm… J-Johnny….” You moaned as your legs shook a bit. “I-I-…”

“You’re what, baby?”

“I-I have… I have to… c-c-…” you couldn’t get the words out through your desperate pants, but Johnny knew what you were trying to say. He smirked and pulled away, making you whine.

“Don’t cum yet, baby.” Johnny said while standing, now undoing his jeans. “I’ll give you something better…”

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lovebugism · 2 years ago

Note

hiii idk if you’re still taking requests but can you do something smutty with steve in season 3 w his scoops ahoy uniform on after he gets home from work or something🙏🏼🙏🏼

like sub!babygirl!steve is so 🤤🤤😽😽 and a

dom!femreader 🫶❤️❤️ AND OMG HE HAS A MOMMY KINK😧😧 I BEG OF YOU

✶ ┄ OH, BABY !

summary: after a long day at work, steve harrington needs someone (*cough cough* you) to take care of him. pairing: sub!steve harrington / f!reader word count: 5.6k warnings: sub!steve, brief use of a mommy kink, r calls steve daddy like twice i think, mention of a breeding kink, 18+ mdni (ignore any typos, i am way too tired to proofread <3) a/n: hi, it's me again, turning a blurb request into a full length fic. also i can't stop writing for sub steve apparently. all i can say is baby girl is baby girlin real hard in this one lol thanks so much for your request! enjoy xoxo

( BLURB SLEEPOVER ) | ( MASTERLIST )

It’s sunset by the time his shift at Scoops concludes. He serves the last few remaining customers while Robin less than kindly ushers out the loitering teenagers that have stuck around all day.

A group of moms clad in vividly colored spandex tells him “we’re being bad today” like some sort of mantra that makes them feel better about ordering plain vanilla ice cream. Some middle school aged girls with a mouthful of braces, crimped hair in pigtails, and absolutely wreaking of fruity perfume and daddy’s money try helplessly to flirt with him while they use a matte black card to purchase a banana boat sundae.

His last customers of the night are an old married couple, all gray and wrinkly and smiling like life’s still so new to them. They order one strawberry cone to share between them and hold onto each other’s shaking, frail hands as they make their exit.

Steve smiles as he watches them go. He sees a lot of you and him in them. He hopes by the time you both are all old and brittle, you’ll still be happy like that, still so in love.

Working in the downstairs abyss of Starcourt makes him feel crazy sometimes. With no windows and only manufactured fluorescent lighting for ten hours straight, it makes time feel less and less real.

Sometimes he’ll be in before sun out and cower like some sort of vampire when his shift is over. Other times, he’ll come out when it’s pouring down rain and be absolutely baffled at the sight of it because it was perfectly sunny when his shift started.

Everything else but ice cream all but ceases to exist in the hole of Scoops Ahoy — weather, time, life.

Even though it’s closing when he leaves, Steve doesn’t realize how dark it’s gotten outside until he’s walking through the desolate parking lot to his car. The bustling mall has fallen asleep with the rest of the town. The sky has long turned to a navy velvet, the stars and full moon bright white silk.

It makes his limbs heavy and his eyelids heavier as his tired bones ache for rest.

Steve makes the longer drive out to the cabin rather than his own home to see you. Hopper’s out for some conference which means El gets to spend every ounce of her time at the Wheeler’s and you and Steve get to play house.

He doesn’t bother to knock before he comes in. He shuffles through the entrance like his feet are made of lead and leans his weight against the door after he clicks it closed.

The sound of his arrival gets your attention from where you scurry around the kitchen. A smile pulls slowly at your face as you turn over your shoulder to look at him, placing a cover over a pot of something that smells like your infamous chicken alfredo.

“Hey, Stevie,” you greet with a beam and a sort of sunshine in your voice that Steve’s been missing all day.

His body relaxes for the first time since he got up this morning at the sight of you, freshly showered and in your pajamas for the night — an oversized t-shirt that definitely didn’t belong to you before, because it used to be his.

You look more like home than any four walls could ever be to him.

Steve tries his best to give you a smile in return, but it’s weighed down by fatigue and not all there.

You can see it all over him, every ounce of exhaustion on his lax and tired features. Slinging ice cream for less than grateful customers for ten hours straight has taken an obvious toll on him. The bright blue sailor’s uniform makes him look more boyish, but no less tired — or hot.

Your heart swells at how cozy he looks, fatigued and warmed and in dire need of being taken care of. It makes you glad that you started dinner earlier than normal, even happier that you’ve got the house to yourselves.

You exit the kitchen and walk the short distance to him, taking his scruffy cheeks in your palms and rubbing your thumbs against his cheeks.

“Hard day?” you wonder softly and smile to himself when you feel Steve nestle further into your touch.

The boy hums lowly in reply — neither a yes or a no, but a short hmph that means he doesn’t want to talk about it now. He doesn’t like thinking about work when you’re in his arms and all over him. He’d rather pretend like you’re the only thing that exists and let the rest of the world slip slowly away.

He turns his face to kiss the inside of your wrists. You smell like lavender, he finds, and it makes him that much more tired and needy for you.

His hands settle on your arms, fingers wrapping themselves just below your wrists. “Just tired,” he answers finally. “How was your day?”

“Better than yours, I’m assuming,” you quip with a smile. Your hands drag from his face, down the tense columns of his neck, and settle at the white lapel of his uniform. Steve lets you pull him down by his red neckerchief until his lips press against yours, the pillows of them far cozier than the bed and blanket he so craves right now.

He grows somehow heavier against you. He exhales deeply through his nose as his aching muscles start to relax, the warmth of it brushes against your cupid’s bow. His hands fall to your back and ball into your shirt as he clutches so ardently onto you, as though terrified he might have to go another agonizing ten hours without you.

Your smile contorts against his mouth. A laugh exhales sharply through your nose at this tired boy, exhausted and too willing to let you swallow him whole.

As much as you want to take care of you him, you want him to get a little food in his belly and fresh clothes on his skin.

He’s got freshly laundered cottons sitting in a drawer you cleaned out in your room especially for him and a pot of his favorite food simmering on the stove. He’ll be golden in an hour or more and you’ll happily take care of him then.

Steve whines when you pull away from him. The pathetic sound bubbles from his throat and his face screws up like you’ve actually pained him by not kissing him more. He ducks down, looming over you, as his lips chase yours.

You giggle at him, letting him kiss you — one, two, three quick pecks and a fourth sweeter, more drawn-out one he presses against you as the two of you stumble back into the living room.

“You need to eat first, okay?” you protest when you part from him again, lips clicking wetly as they separate. “You probably haven’t had anything all day.”

“I had half a banana in the break room at lunch,” he retorts, half-heartedly.

“Exactly,” you scold. “Go get changed and then we can eat, ‘kay?”

“If you wanted to see me naked so bad, you could’ve just said.”

You roll your eyes at him and how he’s still so sly despite being so damn tired. You push playfully against his chest and squirm out from under where he’d cornered you between his body and the back of the couch. “You smell like a sundae and cheap cologne—”

“Blame those assholes from Abercrombie.”

“—hit the showers, Harrington,” you tell him with a playful sternness, swatting him on the ass as you pass by him.

The action stopped surprising him a long time ago. He’d complained relentlessly about corporate and the stupid outfit they made him wear to work every morning until he realized how much you liked it.

After that, Steve figured he could put up with the itching and the chaffing and the weird stares from other mall-goers. As long as it meant you being unable to keep your hands off of him, dropping to your knees in front of him before he left for work, visiting him at lunch because you just had to see him again.

“You comin’ too, or…?” he jokes in reply, already inching towards the bathroom, but secretly hoping you’ll say yes.

You refuse to amuse him, though, and instead tell him that you have to keep stirring the pasta so it won’t burn. He’s too tired and too excited to wash all the muck of the long workday from his body to beg.

You knew just what he needed — like you always do. He’s as good as gold by the time he gets out of the shower, smelling of your shampoo and practically glittering at how good he feels.

His skin gets to breathe for the first time all day when he slips on a pair of boxers and a faded forest green Hawkins High sweatshirt. They’re freshly washed. He can tell by how soft they feel and the way they smell of fresh detergent.

It makes his heart swell.

While he’s been slinging ice cream and questioning all of his life choices, you’ve been washing his clothes, folding them and putting the in their own drawer in your dresser. You’ve been cooking him his favorite dinner, knowing he hasn’t eaten all day, because you know everything about him.

You do it all because you love him. You don’t have to think twice about it before you so effortlessly take care of him.

He swears you’ll feed him if he begs hard enough, but Steve hasn’t reached that level of tiredness yet. He does, however, force you to sit halfway in his lap while the both of you opt to eat on the couch in the living room rather than the kitchen table.

A repeat of Miami Vice plays on the tiny television across the room and you tell him about what you’d done on your day off in between shoveling forkfuls of pasta into your mouth with your legs slung into his lap.

Most of it was spent taking care of chores, a feat made harder without Hopper and El to take on the extra workloads but easier because their absence meant less shit to get done.

You drove Dustin and Lucas to the Wheeler’s house later that morning, then doubled back across Hawkins when Max called and all but begged you to free her from the hellscape on Cherry Lane, as she so lovingly put it. You picked her up and dropped her off with the rest of her friends.

And even though they all swore they had rides back home, they’d called again some hours later and asked too sweetly if you could take them back across town.

You complain and grumble about it, but you do it for them anyway.

Because you take care of people. That’s just what you do.

“So you were a personal chauffeur for a bunch of kids all day?” Steve jokes and laughs to himself as he swipes a smudge of alfredo sauce from your chin with his thumb

“Basically,” you nod in reply.

When that’s all done — and the episode is over and the dishes are in the sink and your teeth are freshly brushed — you tell Steve to get into bed, and then to get his head out of the gutter at the look he gives you after.

He’s pleasantly surprised when you bring a whole basket of things from the bathroom and into your bedroom. He watches silently, obediently, as you light a candle on the far side of the room before climbing into bed beside him.

“Scoot down a little,” you tell him. “And take off your shirt.”

He does it all without question. He rises, strips himself of his top, and tosses the thing mindlessly on the floor beside the bed. With his lean torso and bare chest on display, spotted with tufts of chestnut-colored hair and smelling of your body wash, he lazes back onto the bed again with his head on the pillows.

Steve holds his breathe when you straddle his chest.

“Comfy?” you ask him quietly.

He can only nod in response.

His eyes are wide, twinkling with love and curiosity. It makes you smile. He’s always so soft in his way, so compliant with you — and, fuck, if you don’t love how he looks when he’s underneath you.

You lean down to press a chaste kiss to the chiseled tip of his nose then reach for one of the many bottles stacked inside the wicker basket. You drip the rose-scented liquid onto a cottonpad and tell him that it’s cleanser.

“I thought I was already clean?” he retorts.

“Well, this shit is gonna make ya glow like a baby, Harrington,” you tell him and swipe the stuff up and down his face — across his forehead, along his nose, and around his stubbly jaw. “Which means it’s perfect for you.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Means you’re a baby,” you quip once, then smile lovingly down at him. “My baby,” you correct.

“Damn straight,” he hums with a soft smile, then shuts his eyes when you trade the cleanser for what you call a liquid exfoliator. He doesn’t ask what that means. He doesn’t say much of anything really, because he’s enamored with the way you dote on him.

Your day has been just as busy as his, maybe not as mind-numbing, but still busy. You’ve been bouncing all across town, trying to make sure a bunch of kids weren’t putting themselves in total danger — Steve knows firsthand how hard that can be.

And yet, you keep caring for him, like it’s more important than how tired you must be.

The way you’ve settled on top of him is just a bonus. It’s not as domineering as you usually are in this position, straddling your legs over him and forcing his face between your legs with your fingers tangled in his hair. He wouldn’t have minded if that’s what you’d done in the first place. He would’ve thanked you for it, really.

It’s comforting more than it is anything, the subtle weight of you on top of him, keeping him grounded.

You rub something that feels like lotion into his skin. The tips of your fingers massage his face — they dig softly into his temples, relieving all the strain there, then trace around his curve of his jaw. Steve sighs and melts into your touch. It makes you laugh.

“Look at you,” you giggle, all soft like the moonlight streaming in rays from the windows. Then you tease him. “My baby’s gettin’ all pampered tonight, huh?”

“That stuff smells really good,” he notes. “Think it’s safe enough to taste?”

You know he’s joking, but you flick him in the center of his freshly moisturized forehead anyway, when his tongue darts out the side of his mouth to lick around his lips.

“You’re such an idiot,” you scold with a laugh. “There’s no way we’re gonna be able to have a kid if you keep acting like one, Steve Harrington.”

The boy's eyes fly open. “…A kid?” he repeats in something short of a whisper.

You only hum in reply with a little shrug like you’re trying to play it all off. Like you didn’t just drop the biggest bomb on him and left him to pick up the pieces. Like it isn't the sweetest goddamn thing he’s ever heard in his life (even though you are sort of making fun of him).

“You want a kid with me?” he presses, eyes sparkling and full of hope.

“‘Course I do,” you shrug again, focusing on capping the moisturizer and putting it away rather than meeting his intense gaze. “Want anything and everything with you, Stevie.”

The boy doesn’t bother to hide the grin your words put on his face. He’s all but beaming from where he lays beneath you, trying to make sure he’s still breathing because his heart has started to flutter something fierce.

It was something the two of you only ever talked about in passing — usually him bringing up the idea of having kids and you swatting them all down.

“We’re too young,” you tell him. “We’re too broke”, “we’re too dumb.” The occasional “my dad is literally in the next room, he’ll kill you if he hears you talking like that” shuts him up real quick.

But here you are now, telling him you want a baby with him, that you want everything with him. It drives him absolutely insane.

“Yeah?” he hums in response, idle hands rising and settling upon your bare thighs, rubbing at the smooth skin there, petting you almost. The room gets suddenly and unbearably hot with the look he gives you, innocent and knowing and hungry.

You feel him shift from underneath you, the hardening cock in his boxers making it hard to stay as comfortable as he had been.

“You wanna be a mommy, honey?” he all but coos. “Wanna take care of our kids like you take care of me?”

Though his words set a fire in the pit of your stomach, the tone of them makes you roll your eyes. It’s like flipping a light switch when it comes to Steve. It takes next to nothing to turn him into a puddle of mush.

He’s always raring to go when it comes to you, and you’d be lying if you said it was totally invigorating.

“What happened to my sweet, sleepy, baby Stevie, huh?” you tease, hands leaving his face to caress the ones he’s got resting on your thighs. “Thought you were too tired?”

He shakes his head defiantly. “Never too tired for you.”

“I’m supposed to be taking care of you,” you scold with bubbly laughter when you feel his large hands trail up your legs. His finger falls beneath your shirt, the tips of them sneaking into the rounded hems of your underwear, all but cupping your ass to drag you further up his chest.

He’s practically salivating at the mere thought of tasting you. Of knowing that the only thing separating you from him is a couple of inches and the thin fabric of your underwear.

He knows that when he slides them to the side, you’ll be wet and needing him underneath, slick enough for his tongue to slip right in.

And, truth be told, oral sex wasn’t the easiest when you weren’t alone. It was too precarious of a position. If Hopper knocked on the door and barged in hardly a moment later, you needed to break away quickly.

So when your dad and little sister were home, it was easier to use your hands to get each other off. And, maybe, if Steve was real good, you’d let him fuck you.

But his mouth on you? There wasn’t enough good he could be for you to let him do that, not when your father was on the other side of the door in the living room. Because you’re pretty sure death would be easier than your dad catching Steve Harrington giving cunnilingus to his daughter. You’re pretty sure you’d die on the spot, anyway.

But Hopper is miles away. Your sister is on the other side of town. And you’re alone with your boyfriend, hidden away in a cabin in the middle of the woods. It’s the perfect recipe for the best sex of your life.

“Don’t care,” Steve murmurs, pressing kisses to the inner parts of your thigh when he settles you more intently over his shoulders. “Wanna make you feel good.”

“Yeah?” you croon. From below you, the boy notes the arched brow and knowing glint in your eye that usually means trouble. “Daddy wants to make mommy feel good, huh?”

Steve knows exactly why you said it. Why you chose to say it like that. It’s the same reason you brought up the kid thing in the first place. Because you knew it would drive him crazy.

And it’s not like you ever had to try to make him mental, all you really had to do was walk into a room and he was done for. But you didn’t just want to just make him go insane, you wanted to ruin him.

And you know you’ve done just that when a groan spills from his mouth and two strong hands dig rather ruthlessly into your hips. He pulls you down without warning, pressing your clothed pussy closer to his face and dragging his nose between your covered lips. A moan leaves your mouth in a heavy exhale when the tip of it nudges your clit.

“Like being called daddy, huh?” you tease through bated breaths.

Steve nods in reply as he hooks a finger through the hem of your panties and slides them to the side, putting your pretty, glistening pussy on display for him.

He was right about what he said before — you were soaked.

All but drunk on the sight of you, he presses open-mouthed kisses to your inner thigh. “Like the other thing, too,” he mumbles against your skin, like he’s hiding himself there.

“The other thing?” you question with pinched brows. The confusion ebbs like a rolling tide as you realize: “Oh. You wanna call me mommy, Stevie?” you ask with a joking lilt.

“Shut up,” he groans against you.

He’s pleasantly surprised when your hand grabs the strands of his hair like reigns, pulling him back just before he puts his mouth on your pussy. He’s even more stunned at the stern expression taking over your features, not nearly as playful as you’d been moments before.

Suddenly you’re ten feet tall, and he’s nothing more than an ant, at the mercy of your boot.

“That’s no way to talk to your mommy, is it, Stevie?”

He shakes his head with glazed over eyes. “Sorry.”

“Sorry… what?”

There is an underlying tone in your voice, something teasing and yet somehow serious all at once. It’d make him roll his eyes if he weren’t lying beneath you like this. Now, with your pussy mere inches from his face, he isn’t quite sure how to be anything but obedient.

“Sorry, mommy,” he corrects.

A flip switches and you’re smiling again. “Good boy,” you praise and it makes his cock twitch in the confines of his boxers. Your hand guides him to your pussy again.

Steve’s always been good at oral. A little too good, actually. It made you jealous sometimes, to know that his technique has been perfected over years of experience.

“All the other girls were just practice for you, honey,” he’d soothe your seething rage with a wink and a tongue shoved deep into your cunt.

You believe him now, that every other girl was just an obstacle for him to get to you, because no one’s had him like this. No one will ever have him like this.

You’re the one who’s got him on his back with his mouth on your pussy. You’re the one who’s got him calling you mommy.

And it makes you feel like a fucking giant.

He wastes little time to envelope your cunt with his mouth. You feel the muffled grunt he lets out at the tangy and familiar taste of you. His tongue pushes into your cunt, licking you with the intent of devouring you entirely. His nose presses intently against your clit, prodding the little button as you ride his face. He encourages every thrust, guiding your hips up and down his mouth.

“Fuck, Stevie,” you whine and feel him smile drunkenly against your pussy, never ceasing his assault against your sensitive skin.

Your head falls back, suddenly too heavy to hold up. Your gaze settles on the ceiling, though you’re not exactly looking at it, and moans fall from your open mouth and into the heavy air — billowing laments in the moonlight.

“You make me feel so good,” you murmur to yourself, but to him especially, knowing he turns into a ticking time bomb when he’s praised. “Always make mommy feel so fucking good, baby.”

He groans against you, and it makes your hips twitch over his face.

Your head turns and your glazed over eyes fall on the hard cock trapped in his underwear. It’s more than apparent against the thin fabric with a wet patch of precum darkening the plaid cotton. The sight of it, paired with his lips wrapped around your clit, makes you moan most pitifully.

“Fuck, Steve,” you cry. “You’re gonna make me come. Holy shit, baby— gonna come so hard in your mouth.” The promise makes Steve double his efforts against you, wanting nothing more than to taste every drop you can give him. “I’ll ride you after, 'kay? Make you come so hard you can’t see straight. Fuck. I’m so fucking close.”

You figure his muffled whine is an affirmative.

“If you make me come now, maybe I’ll let you come inside me—”

You barely get to finish your sentence before Steve’s wrapping his arms around your thighs and keeping you pressed against his face. His tongue works overtime inside of your cunt, attentively flicking against every part of your velvet walls that it can reach, while his nose nudges your clit most relentlessly.

It has you reaching your climax within seconds, hips jerking against him while his hold on you tightens. Steve only lets you go when he’s certain you’ve ridden out every inch of your orgasm.

You’re shaking and half-numb when you unfold your body from his and settle next to him on the bed. You press yourself over him as your lips swallow his, tasting yourself on his mouth that glistens with you.

Your torso is splayed over his bare one, knees digging into the mattress at his side as you arch your back to push yourself further into him.

“Was that good for you?” he mutters after you’ve pulled away, sliding the tip of your nose up and down the bridge of his.

A laugh escapes you in a sharp scoff. If he couldn’t have felt how good it was for you — after you all but writhed against him — surely he must’ve tasted it dripping like honey from your cunt.

“It’s always good,” you assure him, then murmur more quietly, “Always so good for mommy.”

You keep the promise you’d made him no more than minutes beforehand. You pull down his boxers at the same time he’s trying to get you out of your shirt, and it’s just a mess of yearning limbs until the both of you are naked.

You rub yourself over his cock a few times, getting it all slick with you in the place of lube, because you know taking him is never an easy feat. The stretch of his dick inside you is always delicious but fuck if it doesn’t burn. It’s like fire in every sense of the word, hot and filthy paired with a distant ache.

Steve lets you set the pace as you get used to his length nestled deep inside your velvet. His hands rest compliantly on your hips as you grind against him, honeyed gaze fixed on your fucked out features as you take him — brows pinched, eyes squeezed shut, bottom lip trapped between your teeth.

Then, when every inch of him is snug in your cunt and your senses return to you, you deny him of his want to touch you. Your fingers wrap around his wrists and push them into the pillow on either side of his head. “Mommy didn’t say you could touch her, did she?” you purr to him as you lean over him. He shakes his head obediently, if only it meant that you kept fucking yourself on top of him.

And you do. Most ardently.

You keep your bare chest pressed against his fuzzy one, nose-to-nose as you slide your hips over his. And even though he’s had you like this before (in this position and many others), it feels brand new every time. It’s like he’s never felt you before despite how familiar you feel.

It triggers his body into a sense of fight of flight, as though frightened he’ll never get to have you again. It leaves him fucking you like it’ll be the last time he’s inside you, every fucking time.

It never is, though — obviously. Most times he only has to wait a couple minutes or more before he gets to take you again.

But now, with his hands balled into fists beside his head and your’s braced on his chest, digging into the patch of hair there as you rock back and forth on his hard cock — the tip of it nestled deep inside of you and hitting every sweet spot that makes you keen — has left him an absolute wreck beneath you.

He’s chasing his pleasure like he’s never felt it before. Like he won’t feel it again.

“Your cock feels so good, Stevie,” you moan above him.

“‘M not gonna last long, baby,” he mutters between harsh and labored pants.

“’S okay… I want you to come,” you promise and press a too sweet kiss to his swollen, pink lips. You move your hips more intently over him. The sound of skin slapping against skin fills your bedroom. “Want you to fill me up.”

“Yeah?” he breathes out in something short of a whimper. His eyes are glassy and his brows are furrowed and it takes everything in him not to fuck up into you — because he wants to be good, he wants to be good for you.

“Yeah… Want you come in me… Fuck me until it takes,” you babble over top of him, knowing exactly what it’s doing to the whining boy beneath you. “Wanna give you a baby— fuck— I wanna make you a daddy, Stevie.”

A whine spills from his throat. His toes curl into the fabric of your comforter, eyes rolling back into his head, body tensing as he digs his fingers into the skin of his palms that still ache to touch you.

Your name spills from his mouth along with a string of curses and pretty little cries when he stuffs you full of his come.

You happily accept every load he shoots into you as work him through every aftershock of his orgasm. Yours doesn’t come so easy — you roll your hips over yourself and rub your clit until you’re twitching right along with him.

You come down from your highs together with a tender softness. You lay over him, one hand combing through his curls and the other stroking softly at his sweat-slicked bicep. You watch with heavy eyes as his orgasm rolls over him.

His chest rises and falls with every heavy breath, stuttering when another pang of pleasure hits him all of a sudden. “Fuck,” he whines harshly into the heavy air.

He’s happy you don’t deny him when his arms wrap around your waist, hands rubbing up and down the expanse of your slick back.

You press tiny kisses to his face as he comes down — his nose, his cheeks, his forehead his stubbly chin and jaw. You press one, two, three pecks to his lips before you slide off of him, then laugh when he whines.

You’re gone for hardly more than three minutes, but to Steve, it feels like an eternity’s gone by.

You return from the bathroom, wiped freshly clean, and blow out the nearly burnt-out candle on your dresser before you slither back into his side. One of his arms curls beneath your shoulders to pull you closer to him with his other rests on the back of yours that’s settled on his chest.

You share one pillow, noses inches away from one another’s, while you bask in the warm moment and the sex-coated air around you before you have to break it.

“You know I’m still on the pill, right?” you ask him.

He nods.

“And that we’re—”

“Way too young to have a kid right now?” he finishes for you, though the idea makes him sad. He nods.

“Yeah… And—”

“Too broke? I know that too.”

“Also my—”

“Your dad would kill me if I got you pregnant?”

It makes you laugh. You hadn’t realized you’d talked about having kids this many times — at least, not enough for him to memorize all the reasons why it’s not the best idea right now.

“Yeah, I know it’s not happening any time soon,” Steve says with a sigh. “I like to pretend, though. Plus, it’s not even about that to me, you know? I just… I just like being with you and… everything.”

Everything, you repeat to yourself. A word that means so much and nothing at all.

No one knows what everything means, they just know that it’s a lot, a whole lot. That’s what makes it so special. Steve wants it all with you — the overbearing dad, the sister with powers, the teenage kids who never let you have a single second to yourselves when they’re around.

It’s a lot sometimes, most times, but he’ll weather it all with you.

“You like being with me?” you echo just to see him nod.

He does. “I love being with you,” he corrects.

“Love calling me mommy, too, huh?”

He realizes then, the sincere moment was just a set-up for that stupid joke. He groans and flops his head back on the pillow, but makes no move to distance himself from you.

“Oh, my god,” he moans in annoyance. “Am I gonna have to deal with this the rest of my life?”

You nod. “Sorry, Harrington, but I’m never letting that shit go.”

Good, he thinks to himself, even though he pretends to hate it because it makes you laugh. He never wants you to stop.

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