#HELLOOO THIS MAN IS SO FINE?? | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

rosedom · 2 months

Note

AHHHH HELLOOO sorry i usually dont request much, haha this is actually my second request in all of my tumblr story ever but...i saw you decided to write for gaming and i just couldnt resist, i love your writing a lot and i just think its so immaculate hahaa. Could you write an scenario where male reader is stressed from work (imagine he has an important job like a doctor or something whatever you want is fine :)) because he has been working days nonstop, so much that his boyfriend is all worked up and horny for him so when reader comes back he finds himself straddled by him while hes begging for fucking? With cockwarming, breeding kink and cowgirl position. Could that be with Gaming, Lyney and Gorou? SORRY IF IM ASKING MUCH I DONT WANT TO BE A BOTHER😭😭 i just dont know how to request but thanks for reading all of rant. And again, thank you and sorry for bothering😔 have a nice day/afternoon/night!

"an unnamed player has invited GA-MING, LYNEY, and GOROU to play . . . an apple a day

✦ㅤㅤ 【 CW 】 dom!top!male!reader, sub!bottom!ftm!characters, vaginal sex & riding, breeding kink + creampies, creaming (lyney), gratuitous praise + petnames .

A/N : aa u are never a bother !! i am SO SORRY this took so long for me to get to, omg . . . but i had sm fun with this (´▽`ʃ♡ƪ)

"do you want to watch, [PLAYER]? press KEEP READING to spectate the match."

Patient after patient after patient, each one with a more downright stupid trouble than the last. Your day had started with a young man, clearly fresh out of Millelith training, complaining of a tummy ache, of all things! He had clutched his stomach and moaned and groaned, and all you could prescribe him was bedrest. It’s not like you were going to waste medicine—medicine that some people needed—on someone who ached because he didn't eat fucking breakfast.

The next patient was an older woman, here only for her biannual check up. You'd greeted her, said a sweet, “Good morning, madame,” but all she did was turn her snobby nose up at you and demand you not waste her time.

“Madame, you have a serious—”

“I know, young man.” You had heaved a sigh, letting her boss you around for the length of her appointment before sending her off with the exact same specifications as last time: take vitamins, get ample rest, stop talking back to people just doing their jobs. (Though, that last one there was merely something you wished you had said.

Too bad the customer—in this case, patient—is always right, huh?)

But, by the end of the day, you wish, instead, that you had simply elderly after elderly; their disrespect pales to the absolute headache that the rest of your patients put behind your eyes, pounding at your skull—bam, bam, bam.

Wham bam-thank-you-ma'am, all throbbing incessantly behind your eyes and making you wanna hurl—except, god, you’re the fucking doctor, and who’s there to take care of him when he’s a little under the weather? You’ve got your boyfriend, of course—your perfect boyfriend, light of your life, apple of your eye, yet he’s home, and you’re here, and you’re bloody exhausted.

“I need to go home,” you murmur—quiet, lest your own voice make you lose the last of your thin-threaded sanity—, already stripping yourself of the itchy scrubs you wear during the long days.

“But sir—” the nurse asks, meak, but her voice is still too loud, too shrill for right now.

You huff. “I’ve worked for fourteen hours.” The tired gruff to your own voice makes you cringe. You can feel the way it tumbles from your chest, rattling you, your overly sensitive eyes and brain and head and fuckin’ everything, at this point. “Refer to the doc on duty, now.”

The nurse nods, once. “Have a good night, doctor.”

You bid farewell—a kind apology with a promise to make it up to them, to bring them coffee, maybe, or some cookies—, and you take the slow walk home. The sky is dark and the fireflies are out, the gentle glow illuminating the path. With nothing but your own thoughts and the night to accompany you, you feel your headache gradually ease. It throbs, still; but each bump in your skull is gentler, now: it’s easier to ignore.

Although the porch light is too strong—the lantern bright and attracting the nighttime bugs and moths—, the foyer of your home is dark. Your aching head is grateful for the reprieve—for the silence that envelops you in totality the second the door clicks quietly shut behind you—, but something other than tiredness pulls at your heartstrings: your sweet boyfriend, clad in only a shirt of yours, toeing into the entryway.

“Honey?” He wipes the sleep from his eyes, softly smiling at you. “Hi.”

“Ga-ming, honey—” honey, because Ga-ming unabashedly stole the pet name from you, first, “—you didn’t have to stay up for me.”

As if on cue, his jaw cracks open in a yawn: this, you do not need the lights on to see. Your heart aches with your head, knowing that he had stayed up just for you. “Honey,” you repeat, sliding off your jacket and stepping up to him. You take his waist in your hands, bunching up the shirt he stole from your closet.

“Quit with that,” he murmurs, tilting up his head for a soft kiss. You grant it; but when you go to pull back, to keep the kiss gentle and chaste, Ga-ming presses forward, darting that little tongue out to lick at the seam of your lips; his hips, too, come bumping against yours, pressing into your thigh, pant to skin—

“Ga-ming?” you repeat, breath leaving you in a low huff. “You’re—” bare.

Utterly, wholly bare: an expanse of warm, slick skin against your clothed leg. “‘m ready,” he mumbles while he takes to mouthing at your throat. His lips soothe you, somehow; it’s a reprieve, a stark contrast, to the pounding at your skull.

“Ready?” you whisper, tilting your head back, letting your hands guide the steady roll of his hips onto your lap.

He nods. “Ready for you,” he enunciates as he softly whines.

Ga-ming—your Ga-ming—, your boyfriend, your love and light of your life: right here in front of you, on you, all needy for you, offering himself to you, wholly ready for the taking.

“So please,” he continues, his cock dragging heavy across the seam of your pant; “fuck me.”

“Oh, honey,” you murmur; then again, an “oh, honey,” because you’re still half-dressed up in your clothes—though they’re only soft and bland, made to fit under the rough scrubs you had abandoned at the office—, and Ga-ming is naked save for the shirt draping across him, the low hemline covering the absolutely sinful way he grinds down. It’s a dirty move, a down, down, down that gives his sensitive cock friction against your pelvis.

“Please, please, ‘m ready, I said—” his words abruptly drop off, a high cry in his throat that sends him to hide his overly-warm face in your neck. His skin burns against you, a feverish-hot that makes you chuckle, makes the throb in your head go away, just-so. “I said I-I was ready, so, please!”

You coo, quiet, bumping your hips up once. The jerking motion makes him cry out, but he manages to keep himself upright, right-side up but entirely unmoored on your cock. “Go on then, little lion. Take what you need, yeah?”

Whimpering a quiet, “Y-yeah,” he begins riding you, slow, steady—but slightly off-balanced—rolls of his hips that makes him whine, makes you groan low n’ deep in your chest. You let your hands rest on his hips, the fabric of his shirt falling over your wrists, and gently guide his motions. Once you’ve helped him establish himself, he begins riding you harder, more desperate.

Silent tears—though, are they truly silent, loud as he is moaning out for you?—dribble down his cheeks, falling to his shirt and soaking the collar of it in salty evidence of his abject pleasure. His abdomen is tensing and relaxing and tensing and relaxing again, all in a rapid loop, in and out and in n’ out, and then there’s a fucking bulge right below his navel when he sinks down hard n’ deep on your cock; and you’re sent over the edge at the sight, moaning through your teeth as you fill Ga-ming up with hot, sticky cum.

“Oh, oh—” he cries, grinding down harsh to get all your cum in as deep as possible, deep ‘nuff to breed him— “bred me, bred me so well, oh—” You groan at his desperate babbling as his thighs jerk around your hips, just before they give out on him entirely. He falls bodily into your chest, heaving through his own orgasm as weak mewls tumble from his prettily parted lips. Each sound is smeared into your throat while you laugh, light and breathless, jostling his overly-sensitized body and making him flinch.

“Sorry, honey.” You kiss at his temple, and, the whole while, his small cunt is left to unconsciously milk your cock, left to assure that loud, insecure part of his brain that he’s wanted, that he’s bred all nice n’ full because he is loved. You’re long done, now, but the undulations make your body warm, soft, safe—just like Ga-ming is, comfy in your lap and wholly protected. “Thank you.”

He shakes his head against you, nuzzling into your throat with a heavy sigh. “You don’t have—hafta thank me,” he mumbles, a lick at your Adam’s apple to seal the deal. “I wanted ta.”

Tucking up the blankets around him, you grin. “Then can you warm my cock, lil’ dragon? Just for me?” You run your fingers lightly up his clothed spine, delighting in the shiver you can feel, one that runs the length of your cock as he’s snug on it. “Since earlier was all about you?” You raise the end of your sentence in a lilting tone, meant to tease, and Ga-ming huffs at you.

And, n further retaliation, he clenches around you; the soft squeeze—all wet n’ warm, smearing your own cum across the base of your cock and leaving the mess of both of yours to dribble down the minute space between your bodies—forces you to calm your breathing, to take in the delicate scent of what is undeniably Ga-ming mixed with the smell of your own shirt, your own cologne.

You laugh, then. “‘m sorry,” you say again amidst giggles, ones you’re careful you confine only to your upper chest lest the movement be too uncomfortable on both of your oversensitive groins.

He doesn't reply, snuggled up comfy on your lap and stuffed full of your cock n’ cum both. Instead, he only noses into your neck further before his breathing steadies, lulling you to sleep, too.

It’s in your final moments of consciousness that you realize your head no longer hurts.

(You suppose you now have the evidence that, yes, an orgasm is sufficient enough a cure for headaches.)

Under Lyney’s palm, a small floor lamp clicks silently on. The light is admittedly dim, but, to your sensitive eyes, the bulb is blinding. You cringe and cover your eyes; but it only serves to shield you slightly, because you’re still upright in the foyer, and your body is rather weak. “Lyney,” you tiredly murmur, lifting your palm just enough to see the ground lest you trip.

You bump into him, laughing lightly, but his worried hands jump to your arm. “Hey—”

“I’m okay.” You’re quick to calm him, placing your free hand on his in a tender gesture as you make way to the living room. “Just a headache, ‘s all. Ya shouldn't have stayed up f’r me.” Earlier, it hurt to even think; but here, with him, the pain is easy to ignore, in the face of his own self destruction.

He grumbles at you, though, says something you can’t quite catch and drops his hands, pads over to the lamp to flick it off. The return of darkness is soothing.

He smiles at you, then; or, at least, you think he does. It’s difficult to see in the dark, and you can’t strain your eyes without hurting yourself. “I wanted to!” He takes three long strides before he’s standing in front of you, draping his arms across your shoulders. The position makes his (your) shirt ride up on his belly, and— ”I missed you, y’know,” he murmurs, suddenly all soft n’ deep, looking up at you and bumping his forehead against your chin. “A lot, really.”

“Lyn—”

He quickly silences you with a kiss. Against your lips, he pulls back, murmurs, “I missed your cock, especially.”

Laughing against him, you lean up ‘til he can no longer reach you. He pouts at you when you reply, faux-snark, “only my cock, huh?” Your bottom lip juts out—a mirror of Lyney’s own, a magic trick of his you took for your own; it’s a devilish trick, one you play right alongside puppy-dog eyes you know he’s soft to. “How cruel.”

He huffs at you, pulling you down by the collar of your shirt to kiss the mirth off your lips. “I was tryin’ to be seductive,” he grumbles, knocking against your chin and beginning to push you backwards into the living room. “But nevermind!”

You want to say, “Hey, now:” disagree with him and keep on pouting and go, “hey, hey, hey,” all offended, but the backs of your knees come into contact with the edge of the sofa, and you’re well and sufficiently distracted from that idea.

“Sit,” he gently commands you—merely the illusion of choice—, giving you no choice in the matter with the way he’s pressing you down into the cushions. You go easily; you sigh in relief when the softness begins enveloping you—a pillow’s snug right in the middle of your back, and you briefly wonder if Lyney had planned this. He murmurs, “there you go,” quiet n’ soft, and you’re taken by the way this man gives to you.

He wears his heart on his sleeve, truly; except, right now, the sleeve is yours (just like his heart belongs to you and yours to him in turn), and it's bare, and so is the expanse of his long, pale thighs, the hem of his boxers peeking out beneath the shirt. He stands in front of you, between your legs, makes sure you’re down and that you’re gonna stay down, but your eyes aren’t really tired, not anymore, staring at Luney—your Lyney—before he huffs and sits bodily onto you, straddling your lap with his knees sinking into the cushions on either side of you.

“Lyney,” you murmur, reaching out to take hold of his thighs. The position makes the shirt rise up on his belly, exposing the soft, rippling muscles there; but, in the dark, all you can go by is what you feel against your own stomach, his bare skin pressed to your thin shirt. “I was kiddin’, sweetheart.”

“I know you were,” he snaps at you, mean-like, but he brings his arms around your shoulders all sweetly and nuzzles into the side of your head. “But I wasn’t. I—I really did miss you; and your cock. If you—if you wanna, of course.”

“Of course I want to, Lyn,” you mutter, tilting your head up to kiss beneath his chin. “I’m just a little tired.”

“A little?” He huffs, again, before sighing. “Just—let me do the work, alright? I’m already...” he pauses, tilts his head to the side, breathes in and out sharply.

You hum at him to go on.

“‘m already prepped.” Oh.

“Oh?” You grin, bringing your tired arm up to cup his cheek. He leans into your palm and his eyelashes flutter, brushing against your skin. “Go ahead then, sweet thing.”

And go ahead he does, smiling into you before he abruptly leans back ‘nuff to chuck off the shirt. You whine, say, “hey!” but there isn’t any bite left on your tongue when Lyney starts tugging his boxers down, too. He’s impatient, pulling at the seam and groaning curses at the fabric—as if it’s the damn boxers’ fault that he’s in a position that prevents him from taking them off.

He relents, tilting this way and that and finally—after painstaking minutes later, ones that, under no circumstance, should be arousing, but the anticipation, the wait: it all makes your dick chub up in your own pants—Lyney’s left naked in your lap. The fabric hangs off his foot, and you reach down to tug it the rest of the way off for your sweet boyfriend as he busies himself unbuckling your own belt, loosening the tough leather enough for your pants to droop and enough for him to reach a hot hand into your briefs.

“Eager, huh?” you tease, lifting your hips—and, subsequently, him—to let him get your dick out of your pants. Neither of you bother pulling down your own pants, not after Lyney spent so long on his boxers alone. He doesn’t dally. “My sweet Lyney.”

He sighs, again—he’s rather dramatic tonight; but, then again, when isn’t he? It wouldn’t quite be your Lyney without some theatrics—, spitting into his palm and lathering up your cock with it while he makes to straddle you more fully. “Thought you were tired,” he grumbles, hovering his, indeed, wet n’ slicked up and entirely prepped cunt over your thick cockhead.

“Mhm.” You set your hands on his plush thighs once he hooks the head of you into his loosened hole, groaning low and pleased in your throat while he softly whimpers at the barely-there stretch. He prepared himself well. “But when you’re lookin’ so pretty for me, I can’t help being wide awake. Wouldn’t wanna miss this sight for the world.”

With your eyes now adjusted to the light—and, oh, you consider how the throb of your head is a bygone memory now—, you can see the way his cheeks darken just-so, puffed up in exertion as his groin meets yours. You’ve got your cock stuffed up balls-deep in him, and he leans into you once he’s fully settled.

He moans, less out of outright pleasure and more out of total contentment, comfy and warm on your lap as your arms knead at his thighs. His arms squeeze around your shoulders, and he quietly asks, “Gimme a minute.”

Nodding, you simply bask in the steady heat of him, letting him adjust and recognize that, yes, you’re home, now, and you hadn’t really left him at all. “I missed you,” you murmur rather suddenly, your voice quiet but still stark in the silence of the night. “Thought about you durin’ my shift.”

“You did?” His voice is rough but wispy, a little out-there and entirely gone. He’s slipping into that mindset he always does when he’s left to warm your cock—regardless of if it were by his volition or your own—, but he begins to subtly grind his hips against you, mewling at the hot sparks of rapture from his cock rubbing just right against you.

“‘Course I did,” you continue, moving your hands to his hips instead to help move him along. His arms tighten around you and he moans directly into your ear.

From then on, it’s quiet: quiet, that is, save from the obscene slick noises of the lube Lyney used to prep himself earlier with his own slick, your pre-cum mixing up and making a mess of thick liquid between both of your thighs. His moans are barely audible, these soft, gentle lil’ uh, uh, uh’s punched out of him with each tender grind down.

You think, even, that you’ll both cum like this: quiet, nothing but the sounds of your connection and heavy breaths, moans, groans as you fall over the edge. But then Lyney starts bumping his groin against yours even harder, grinding down deep on your cock and rubbing against your full balls, and he starts babbling for you to “breed me! Please—”

“I-I’ll breed you,” you groan, leaning your head back into the sofa cushions and chasing your release, chasing the release you both want, the one he wants so desperately stuffed up deep inside him. “Gonna fill you right up, just like you want, sweetheart.”

He babbles more—a mix of syllables and words, more pleas for you to breed him—until he’s silenced by his own high-pitched whine, cumming around you and slathering you in creamy-white. The steady clench and release of his cunt forces you to your own end, thick cum slowly leaking out from the edges of his cunt and your cock. (You can hardly tell what’s your leaking cum and what is his own.)

“Thank you,” he mumbles, already beginning to doze. “Th’nk you:” quieter, more muddled against your ear.

You grab the throw you have across the sofa’s armrest, rucking it up around the two of you; you cocoon Lyney safe in your arms and on your softened cock. He’s nodded off, now, and he misses your words: “You don’t have to thank me,” you say anyway, even if he doesn’t hear you, “I love you.”

The cum’ll be sticky, later, when you wake up; but for now, it’s perfect. It’s perfectly warm and entirely cozy, wholly snuggled up with the love of your life. Your headache, the stressors of the day—they’re all forgotten in his presence.

You’re so, so glad to love him.

“Hi, puppy,” you coo. The sound of your own voice grates you, but you ignore it to sweetly smile at your beloved. He stands there, motionless for a moment right there at the threshold before the foyer, until he shakes his head with a barely-there laugh. “Gorou?”

He tilts his head to the side—this you can see, the silhouette of him in the moonlight—before he takes a tentative step forward.

Then another. And another. Another, another, another, ‘till he’s standing in front of you and leans up to kiss your jaw. “Hi,” he repeats, voice ruff (hah!) and hoarse, a little too much so. “Missed ya.”

You tilt your head back to let him mouth at you, and your hands subconsciously come to clutch at his hips, and— “Oh, Gorou,” you mumble, pleasantly aghast, because your hands come into contact with bare, slick skin. “Pent up?”

With a quiet whimper, he tilts his hips forward, into you, pressing against the contact of your fingers on him. You slowly slide your one hand around, sneaking a large handful of his ass before you dip into his cleft, shuddering when your fingertip easily glides across his slicked, open cunt.

“I-I wanted you, so bad,” he starts to mumble, shy, tucking his head into the meat where your shoulder meets your neck. Without any prompting, you adjust your stance, pressing your knee into his cock and making him jerk forward with another whimper high in his throat. “Oh!”

Slowly, his hips begin grinding—it’s a weak movement, testing, making sure you're really okay with this, right now. He moves unsure against you until you begin bumping your knee, letting his slick make a mess of your pant leg. “Go on,” you goad him on, soft, holding him snug against you. You can feel his cunt clench even through the fabric of your pants, a rapid rat-a-tat-tat against you that is oddly reminiscent of the headache you can feel begin to dissipate. “Take your pleasure, pup.”

He nods vehemently against you, beginning to hump as his tail swishes side to side, side to side, hypnotizing you just slightly. It’s hard to parse it out in the dark, but the shadow of it is undeniable behind him. Each bounce of your leg makes Gorou whimper, and he’s quick to crane his neck up for a kiss to muffle himself. You grant his request easily, but only for a minute; after, you gently part from him to murmur, so quiet that only he could possibly hear, those big, soft ears of his twitching as he strains, “What else do you want, honey?”

“Want you,” he whines, grinding harshly once, twice. “Want you inside me, want you to breed me.”

You didn’t expect that, but you’re a doctor, after all; it’s kinda in the job description to roll with the punches, so you do. “You wanna get fucked full of pups?” you ask, teasing and light, but Gorou’s mouth parts as a loud whine crawls out of his chest.

“Yes! Please.” Thick tears begin to drop from his eyes, saltwater dribbling onto the bare skin of your throat. “Now, now—breed me now,” he begs, and you coo at him, bringing your hands to curl into his hair, rubbing soothing circles into the base of one puppydog ear.

“Patience, pup.”

And, because he’s Gorou, and Gorou is nothing but a good boy, he nods, rapid-quick movements of his head, and begins to slow on your thigh. Heat shimmers low in your belly as he steps back from you on shaky legs, a wet splotch across your leg from his cunt. You bring a hand down, meaning to scoop it up off your pant, but your finger brushes two distinctly different textures: his natural slick, and fuckin’ lube. “Did you prepare yourself for me?”

“Y-yeah,” he mutters, tail tucking itself between his legs. You almost cringe at that, knowing he’s smearing himself into his own fur, but if he doesn’t mind, then you won’t either; besides, it’s hard to truly care when your boyfriend is so bashful in front of you. “I—I missed you, ‘nd wanted to be ready for you.”

The image of Gorou, ass up on the bed with four of his fingers stuffed up inside of himself flitters across your mind, makes your cock throb in your britches. Your erection was easy to ignore, earlier; but now it’s abject torture.

However, it’s not nearly as torturous as it was for your boyfriend, and you know this. You know he didn’t cum, know his fingers are far too short to truly reach in deep and press against his g-spot, know his wrist can’t comfortably bend to jerk himself off and finger himself at the same time. So you coo, soft, “Sweet boy. Where’s your toy?”

“Charging,” he mutters.

You grin at that: it’s perfect. “Can you go get it then, puppy?”

With an audible swallow, he nods, rushing for your bedroom. You follow behind him, lethargic but so, so turned on; and while he’s grabbing the vibrator from the corner, you shuck off the rest of your clothes and plop yourself down on the edge of your bed.

He must not expect you to have followed him, however, because once he turns around, he jumps, ears flattening to his head in embarrassment. You only laugh and pat your lap. “C’mere.”

Quickly—and toy in tow—, he shuffles over to you. He stands awkwardly in front of you for a moment before you murmur, “I said c’mere,” and tug him to straddle your lap. The position immediately forces his cock—slick n’ thick, out of its hood and throbbing incessantly—against yours, and he mewls helplessly for a moment, grinds once, twice again, before he grabs the lube to the side of you.

You hadn’t even noticed it there, but now that he’s grabbed it, pointed it out, you feel other wet spots beneath you. He fuckin’ masturbated here, right on the duvet you both sleep under, thinkin’ about you and only you. You’re taking out of your musings when he slathers up your cock in lube, messy and sloppy, and then he’s rising, positioning you, and sinking right on down.

“Mm!” he cries out, swiveling his hips to take you in deeper, deeper, deeper. You groan at the lube-slick combination that smothers your cock in Gorou, Gorou, Gorou. “Breed me, breed me!” Each meak plea makes your cock pulse inside him, and he mewls at each throb inside him. “Please!”

“I got you, pup,” you murmur, your edge so close you can taste it on the tip of your tongue. “Just make yourself feel good, and I’ll breed you, okay? Okay, puppy?”

“Okay, okay—”

You grin. “Good boy,” you say, and then he’s tumbling over the edge and bringing you right down with him. You groan into his throat, feeling the vibrations of his whimpers n’ whining moans as he’s getting thoroughly bred. Your hands ruck up his shirt to hold his sides and soothe him down from his high. “You did so good for me, sweetheart. Bred you just like I promised I would, hm?”

He weakly nods. “Thank you,” he mumbles, nosing at your throat.

And, well. You’re bloody exhausted, and you promised to breed him, and he can’t keep on being bred if you pull out. You tell yourself you’re only upholding your promise as Gorou falls asleep on your cock, breathing deep on your lap: tell yourself that it’s the lingering tiredness that suddenly seems to hit you in full-force that keeps him warm and snug on you.

Really, clean-up can wait.

i got a lil' carried away on lyney's part ,, o(*^＠^*)o also, none of these were really cowgirl 'cos reader was sitting up for it . . . i couldn't think of how to have him lay flat in these scenarios LOLL

13 MAR. 2024, @rosedom, rosey .

#ㅤ✦【 ASKS 】#i used to have very frequent headaches and the only way i could abate them was:#1) midol (god's gift to earth i stg)#and 2) jrking off.#so !!#sub genshin #genshin smut #genshin x reader #sub gaming #gaming x reader #sub lyney #lyney x reader #sub gorou #gorou x reader #lord .#top reader #dom reader #amab reader #male reader

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luhsexcbihh · 2 months

Text

𝗦𝗛𝗘!

𝗜𝗡 𝗪𝗛𝗜𝗖𝗛- 𝘤𝘩𝘳𝘪𝘴 𝘪𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘥𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘦𝘳 𝘸𝘩𝘰 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘳𝘢𝘳𝘦𝘭𝘺 𝘴𝘦𝘦 𝘥𝘶𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘫𝘰𝘣, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘯𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘮𝘪𝘴𝘴𝘦𝘥 𝘩𝘪𝘮, 𝘤𝘳𝘢𝘷𝘦𝘥 𝘩𝘪𝘮, 𝘯𝘦𝘦𝘥𝘦𝘥 𝘩𝘪𝘮．

𝗣𝗔𝗜𝗥𝗜𝗡𝗚- 𝘥𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘦𝘳!𝘤𝘩𝘳𝘪𝘴 𝘹 𝘱𝘰𝘤!𝘧𝘦𝘮!𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

𝗖𝗢𝗡𝗧𝗔𝗜𝗡𝗦- 𝘤𝘰𝘭𝘭𝘦𝘨𝘦 𝘢𝘶！ 𝘶𝘴𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘸𝘦𝘦𝘥,𝘴𝘰𝘧𝘵!𝘥𝘰𝘮 𝘤𝘩𝘳𝘪𝘴!, 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘵𝘦𝘤𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘴𝘦𝘹，𝘶𝘴𝘦 𝘰𝘧 “𝘣𝘢𝘣𝘺“ 𝘢𝘯𝘥 “𝘮𝘢𝘮𝘢“ 𝘢𝘭𝘰𝘵, 𝘣𝘳𝘦𝘦𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘬?, 𝘧𝘦𝘮𝘢𝘭𝘦 𝘮𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘣𝘢𝘶𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯.

𝗪𝗥𝗜𝗧𝗘𝗥𝗦 𝗡𝗢𝗧𝗘- 𝘪 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘵𝘺𝘭𝘦𝘳 𝘯 𝘧𝘳𝘢𝘯𝘬 𝘴𝘰 𝘪 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘥𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴, 𝘢𝘭𝘴𝘰 𝘪 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘱𝘱𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘶𝘱 𝘭𝘰𝘭．

“𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙩𝙤𝙪𝙘𝙝 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧𝙨𝙚𝙡𝙛 𝙖𝙛𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙝𝙤𝙪𝙧𝙨“

𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 breath began to hitch as your fingers danced into your pink panties, it’s been a long week full of assignments, projects, and tests. I felt overwhelmed due to the stress, now needing some relief. you slipped your middle finger into your pussy. You squirmed at the feeling getting used to the sensation. you pulled yourr fingers out now toying with your clit trying to make your high approach hissing as the cold air hit your hot cunt. “𝘧𝘶𝘤𝘬“ you sighed giving up pulling up your shorts in frustration.

You rolled over to my nightstand grabbing your pink tray and your leftover stash realizing i didn’t have anymore. “oh i’m fuckkk” you dragged your words placing your hands over your face groaning in frustration. you picked up your phone dialing your dealers number as it popping up the contact name “𝙨𝙚𝙭𝙘 𝙖𝙨𝙨 𝙙𝙚𝙖𝙡𝙚𝙧“ hitting the call button immediately. “𝙮𝙤“ you heard as soon as you put your phone to your ear hearing the deep masculine voice behind it. “heyy bae you miss me?” you joked. you weren’t joking though. You always had a little crush on chris ever since you seen him selling on campus.

“ha, what you want lil lady?” he rasped causing you to feel tingles in your stomach, his voice was so attractive to you. “i need a pack pleaseeee” you dragged your words hearing him let out a little chuckle. “the usual?” he asked as you shook your head like he could see you saying “mmhm” he didn’t waste anytime as you heard the keys jiggle through the phone, “be there in a bit mama unlock the door” he said as you hung up. You threw your phone onto your bed hopping up now walking to the kitchen to chug down some water.

Within a few moments later you heard a knock at the door as you walked over looking through the peep hole to see chris in a black beater with gray sweatpants and a baby blue hat. You opened the door revealing you in a tiny white crop top along with some grey sweats aswell. “hellooo” you dragged your words seeing the taller man hovering over you while looking down at you.

“wassup” he said smirking at the girl making direct eye contact with her. “you can come in if you like” you said stepping to the side to allow him into your house. “so here’s your shit, now run me my money pleasee ma’am” chris said reaching into his pocket handing you your smokes. “ugh you’re only using me for my money? how hurtful chris” you sarcastically shook ur head pretending to wipe tears from your eyes.

“haha how funny, how was your day though?” he asked taking a seat to your island counter manspreading watching you count your money you owe him. “um well i’ve honestly been so stressed all day, pent up with anger and stress too be honest” you revealed taking a big sigh going back to counting under your breath. “oh my poor baby, why are you stressed hm?” he asked in a raspy voice. “school, and if we are being real, i missed you” you looked at him with doe eyes. you and chris had always had sexual tension built up, but the two of you never took action due to him and his job. The two of you sat in silence as you sighed once more.

“i’m like twenty dollars short, um im sorry for wasting your time ill call you when i have the rest-“ you mumbled placing the money back into your wallet. “it’s fine baby, take the weed you need it” he sat up passing the pack to you. “oh my god? you foreal?” you asked his with one eyebrow furrowed up. “yea ah hundred percent, now since i did you a favor can you lend me a hand?” he asked now standing up hovering over you”

You looked up at the man hovering over you with sleepy eyes almost making you melt. “and what is that” you flirted looking up at him submissively. He let out a little laugh being speaking up.

“let me be your stress reliever”

“oh my fucking-“ you dragged your words grabbing the sheets as chris grinded deep into your cunt. “you’re so fucking tight baby, could stay in this pussy all damn day” he grunted slamming his hips into you the room filling up with the smell of sex along with skin clapping rapidly. you don’t know how the two of you ended into this situation but you loved every second of it

“you’re so deep!” you whined letting out a soft cry pulling chris closer to you as you clenched your pussy around his dick. “i love when you squeeze my dick with your tight fucking pussy” he whispered the dirtiest things into your ear with no shame. who knew he would have such a potty mouth?

He lifted his palm up forcing his hand into your face, “open” he demanded as you gave him access placing his two digits into your mouth. forcing you to suck onto his digits as you looked at him with smudged eyeliner and lipgloss all over your face.

“look at you, you look so pretty ruined” he smiled removing his fingers from your mouth now toying with your clit causing your back to arch. “ou fuck! right there chris, right fucking there!” you whined almost screaming in pleasure.

“fuck i’m gonna cum just looking at you, you’re so pretty baby” he began to whine feeling his high approach. “where do you want it baby? your mouth or ass?” he questioned. you pulled the man closer almost bear hugging him now forcing him deeper inside you. “i want it in me chris, i need it in me” you whined grinding up into the man.

Chris let out a loud whimper at your words, “are you sure mama, fuck you feel so good” he mumbled. “cum in me right fucking now or i might die” you overexaggerated now growing with a little anger.

Chris began to slam his hips into you at a rapid pace causing you to shut up almost immediately. “oh you want my babies huh pretty? you want me to stuff you mhm? fill you up with my cum~” he teased feeling your hole began to leak.

“fuck i’m gonna cum- i’m cumming!” he groaned filling him shoot a load into you. the two of you collapse, as chris fell on top of you now sound asleep.

“chris? chris baby wake up i wanna smoke now!”

tags💘! : @suyqa @itzdarling @chrisfavoritepepsi @starliqhtsworld @leahsbussy @imsosillygoofylol @misznsworld @musegyra @imaslut4kehlani @kottonkanditits @luv4kozume (lmk if you’d like to be added!)

#chris sturniolo #chris sturniolo smut #sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo x reader #black writers #black reader #matt sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo #nicholas sturniolo #matt x reader #luhsexcbihh

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neteyamslovrr · 1 year

Note

hellooo! i absolutely love your writing, you’re very talented! i was wondering if you could write a aonung x fem!metkayina!reader for me where y/n makes a gift for aonung out of random little trinkets but gets super embarrassed so she quickly lays it on the ground next to him and runs off. idk it just sounds adorable to me! if you can’t do that or can think of a better way to write it than i’m explaining, that’s fine! <333

A Necklace

summary: Y/N is not a well-known member of the Metkayina, yet she yearns for the Olo’eyktan’s son Ao’nung, so she makes him a gift to show her affection towards the boy

1.2k words!

──── ⑅*❀*⑅ ────

You grew up hearing the story about how your mother courted your father. It was a warm day and your mother had worked for weeks assembling a seashell embellished headpiece for him to wear. Your mother gave it to your father as she confessed her feelings, and your father has yet to remove the headpiece from his body.

You couldn’t help but think of a certain boy when your mother repeats the story to you. Ao’nung. The clan leader’s son. His hair was tied perfectly into a bun, letting his curls out on display, his arms were wide and the way he smiled made your heart flutter.

You talked to him occasionally as you were friends with Tsireya. It was short-lived conversations as you could never keep them going due to the feeling of butterflies in your stomach making you so nervous you felt as if you might throw up.

Whenever he looked at you his eyes shimmered in the sunlight and his skin softly glowed. You were convinced he was the most beautiful man in Pandora. You had to tell him your feelings. Whether he accepted them or not, you had to tell him so the butterflies in your stomach could flourish or they could return back to cocoons and be hidden again.

Going on your daily walk you spotted a beautiful seashell that the tide had only just brought in. It was small maybe the size of your fingertip, shaped in a delicate spiral, it was painted a sage green colour with subtle hints of white striped across it. Picking it up carefully you inspected it. It was really quite beautiful.

The idea hit you like a strong wave. You were going to make Ao’nung a necklace, confess your feelings and pray to Eywa he is kind to your heart. A rush of motivation flowing through your veins, you began to pick up little seashells and rocks you found across the beachfront.

Tsireya spotted you down by the beach and ran towards you. “What are you up to?” She inquired at you. Surprised you took the shells and other things you have found and hid them behind your back.

“Nothing!” You smiled mischievously. You were a terrible liar and Tsireya knew that. She rolled her eyes and quickly span you around seeing the shells.

“Why are you hiding shells? Are they magical?” She joked looking into your tightly shut palm.

“You have to keep this secret, okay?.” You said to her in a hush tone. Tsireya looked at you waiting with anticipation for you to say your secret. “I like Ao’nung and want to make him a gift.”

Tsireya’s lips grew into a smile that soon let out a loud giggle. “Y/N everyone knows you like my brother! You are so obvious with your affections towards him. You’re anything but subtle.” You felt as if your heart dropped to your toes letting out a grumble of embarrassment.

“Shut up about my subtly and never ever let Ao’nung know about this gift, I beg you.” Tsireya nodded patting your shoulder.

“I’d never tell him that. I’m your friend not just his sister.” You thanked her before scurrying off back to your home. Laying down all of the shells on your floor you organised it into a repeating pattern. In the middle was a large white shell that had green designs on the inside of it. On each side you put the small spiral shells you first found. Then finally you found some small beads your mother had made out of clay. Using some string you tied it together and prayed that Ao’nung would accept the gift along with your feelings.

Mustering up at least a tiny bit of courage you walked towards were Ao’nung usually spent his afternoons alone. You’d noticed his habit of sitting on the beach just as the sun began to fall a couple of years before and you always saw him sitting peaceful, letting the oceans breeze calm him.

You walked so that you were a couple of meters behind him and watched him in all his glory. Maybe this is why everyone knew you loved him, you really weren’t subtle on where your gaze was fixated. Seeing him so calm and close to dozing to sleep you walked towards him silently laying the necklace beside him praying he wouldn’t notice you. You slowly backed away from him.

You were sure you gift had been delivered successfully until you stepped on a inconveniently loud twig, snapping it in half. “Shit!” you muttered to yourself seeing Ao’nung startled. “Fuck fuck fuck” you grumbled to yourself trying to walk fast back to the village.

Ao’nung turned to his left to see a beautiful necklace laid out beside him. He noticed the way the shells had been specifically placed and the way the necklace was lightly tied at the end so someone could easily undo it. Looking around he noticed your fast moving figure.

“Y/N!” he shouted. You halted in your tracks cursing yourself and that stupid stick. You waved while slowly waking towards him. It suddenly clicked to him, you made him this necklace. Wait, you made him that necklace. The fact you thought of him enough to do this made his heart flutter, along with the fact he longed for you since the moment he first met you. He smiled up at you. “Did you make this?” He said carefully picking up the necklace as he got himself off the ground.

You nodded at him looking down. Must Eywa punish you so much. This was so embarrassing. You were going to burn that stick in a flame full of fury after Ao’nung rejects you. “I made it for you.” You stated to him feeling as if your stomach resided in your pelvis.

“It is beautiful, thankyou Y/N.” He said looking at it. Your eyes perked up looking up to him smiling to himself. “Help me put it on.” He demanded opening the knot and handing the two side of the necklace to you.

Turning so his back faced you, he crouched slightly. Your arms looped around his neck and carefully tied the necklace together, the shells making quiet clicking noises as they hit his skin.

“There you go.” You smiled up at him, was he really accepting your gift, this must be a dream. “I thought of you when looking at the shells, as they’re so beautiful.” Ao’nung felt like his cheeks were on fire. His heartbeat fast, you thought he was beautiful?

“I do agree, these shells are beautiful. But Y/N nothing could amount to your beauty.” He spoke softly. Inside your heart was ready to take off and burst through your ribs. This must all be fake. It had to be a dream

You blushed covering your face in embarrassment as Ao’nung chuckled at your reaction and grabbed your hands gently to reveal your huge smile. Oh, he could never get tired of that face.

Looking up at his smug face your body filled with courage as you hopped onto your tippy toes to leave a soft peck on Ao’nung cheek. Before he could react, you had run off in embarrassment ready to debrief everything to Tsireya.

“What a weirdo.” He chuckled to himself putting his finger on where your kiss had left tingles on his cheek and left his heartbeat fast as he touched the handpicked shells on his necklace

──── ⑅*❀*⑅ ────

authors note: thankq sm for requesting! i hope you liked it

#aonung x reader #ao'nung x reader #aonung #ao'nung #ao'nung oneshot #aonung imagine #aonung fluff #ao'nung fluff #avatar #avatar the way of water #ao'nungxy/n #ao'nung x y/n #ao'nung fic #tsireya #avatar2 #avatar fanfiction #avatar 2 fanfic #avatar imagines #avatar oneshot

4K notes · View notes

redbullgirly · 3 months

Note

Hellooo 👋, can you write enemies to lovers with fernando alonso maybe with some angst? 🤭

It's totally alright if you don't want to! Thankssss :))

EL DESTINO [FA14 oneshot]

Fernando Alonso x reader

Masterlist

Summary: Y/N works for Alpine, and even though Fernando Alonso isn't part of the team anymore, they can't forget their distaste for each other. The driver seems to think she's just an irresponsible party girl and Y/N doesn't like him because he's, well... annoying and mean and doesn't care about anybody but himself. Though could they be both wrong in their prejudices?

Word Count: 4.5k

Warnings: Not much, maybe they're kind of mean to each other and stupid at the start, but that's the point of enemies to lovers, right? XD

Author's Note: Hello Anon and thank you for the request! I didn't expect it to turn out so long, but hey XD. I hope you and everybody else will like it. Also I tried for a little bit of angst, but I'm not sure if I'm good at it... you can let me know :).

If anyone could read your thoughts at the moment, you’d probably end up locked behind bars and with the key from your cell thrown far away. Whoever's great idea was to allow the group of inexperienced interns to touch the important data and statistics deserved to rot seven feet underground. Chopped into small pieces. And doused in poison that eats their lifeless body until there's nothing left.

Okay, that's maybe a bit too violent, but still not far from the truth.

You rubbed your tired eyes, not caring about smudging the mascara anymore. There was basically no one left in the building, just a few mechanics desperately needing the cars to be in perfect condition tomorrow – or should we say today? And then there was you, who stupidly agreed to fix the disaster caused by too much excitement and not enough cautiousness. You knew the interns didn't do it on purpose, and blaming them wasn't going to help you, but still. It wasn't them who had to sit there long after their working hours ended, staring into a too bright computer screen.

When you finally managed to save all the damaged data, it was almost three in the morning, and before you made it back to the hotel, you weren't sure if it was even worth going to bed. Because of the emergency, you didn't have time to finish your usual duties. And even though it wouldn't be fair to want the analysis from you, that wasn't how the game was played in motorsport.

Legs almost giving out under you, you dragged yourself to the elevator. The poor lady sitting at the receptionist desk looked at you skeptically, but didn't say anything as you stepped in and pressed the button with the number of your floor on it. Generic music started playing, numbing your brain even more.

The metal door was about to close, but then a hand came between it. Before you blinked and processed what's happening, a man slipped into the elevator right next to you, pressing his own number.

You see, everything could have been fine. You could've just survived the thirty seconds of embarrassing silence, then mumble a polite goodbye and go to sleep in peace. But no. Fate apparently had other plans for you.

Because as the man turned to you and the bright light hit his face, you realized it wasn't just some stranger.

Suddenly, the silence shifted from the normal elevator weirdness to tension. You pressed your lips together, silently cursing the higher power that decided to mess with your life just today, when you looked like a zombie. With smudged mascara. Perfect.

For someone, maybe it would be a fulfilled dream to be in an elevator with Fernando Alonso. Two time World Champion, great driver, loved person. And a dickhead that almost ruined your whole career.

“You look like you had a wild night,” he murmured with a thick Spanish accent. You narrowed your brows, trying to control the anger bubbling inside of you. Was he trying to insult you? You wouldn't even be surprised.

“Perhaps I did, thank you very much.” Your voice lacked any signs of friendliness, clearly trying to provoke him. It was quite funny, really, how a minute ago you didn't have energy to think clearly, and now you were ready to argue with this man over anything. Almost like the magic of despising someone.

You noticed his jaw tensing and knew it wouldn't be good. But still, his words hurt: “Maybe if you focused more on doing your job instead of wild nights out, Alpine would do better.”

The sting in your chest was strong, but by some miracle the elevator finally stopped, and the robotic voice announced the twenty-sixth floor. Even life itself took pity on you, it seemed.

Without any other word, you turned away from Alonso and walked into the empty hallway, hearing a quiet scoff and then the door sliding closed again behind you, leaving you all alone in the darkness. How poetic.

Every door you passed looked exactly the same, and you just hoped you remembered your room number correctly.

You didn't even remember taking out the card and entering your temporary home for the weekend. You didn't remember taking your clothes off, removing the remaining makeup with a tissue because you were too tired for your usual skin care routine. You didn't remember responsibly setting up your alarm and then falling into the soft mattress.

All you could remember before the exhaustion took over were his words that cut deeper than he thought, and deeper than you'd like to admit.

-----

You couldn't believe it.

As you walked out of the debrief, you could basically feel everybody's frustration crawling up your spine, mixing with your own. The team, all the mechanics and engineers, pit crew members and marketing, hundreds of people worked so hard the whole week. And for what?

It was already bad when both cars didn't finish the last Grand Prix in Silverstone. But for it to happen again? That was downright embarrassing. Not only did it bring exactly zero points in the Constructors' Championship, but the drivers were angry, disappointed. You could see that in the team, the motivation level decreased quickly. And honestly, you couldn't blame them.

Last year, Alpine was the fourth-best car on the grid. Best of the rest, as they'd call it. But this season, everything was going terribly. You honestly weren't far from crying.

To lighten up the mood, some of your colleagues decided to enjoy a night out in Budapest before you'd have to fly to Belgium tomorrow, to prepare for yet another racing weekend. At first, you declined the offer, insisting you needed to catch up on some work, do analysis for the car and figure out exactly what happened to it. But then, one of the mechanics you were friendlier with saw your drooping shoulders, and pulled you into the club despite all your weak protests.

Soon enough, you let loose and after an hour, you were a few drinks in. Your head was spinning, a big smile planted on your lips and giggles coming out of your mouth uncontrollably. Not that you had low alcohol tolerance, but the last time you got properly drunk was some time ago. Perhaps you just forgot how it felt. The freedom, the sweet mist of oblivion clouding your mind.

Currently, you were sitting at the bar, sipping on a cocktail. You already enjoyed your time on the dance floor, which tired you more than expected. Thank God you went to the club right from the paddock, so instead of high heels that'd kill your feet, you had comfortable sneakers on.

As you waved at the young barman to give you another round of whatever he mixed for you before, you felt someone's eyes on your back. You didn't bother to turn around, thinking it was just another drunken man checking out half of the women in the club.

Then, someone stood behind you. “The drink's on me, hermosa,” the man said, voice smooth like honey. You froze. You knew that deep, thick Spanish accent too well. What the hell was Alonso doing here?

He clearly mistook your silence for an impressed one, or so you thought when he came to sit down next to you, his hand gently brushing your back. That was the moment you turned your head towards him, eyes wide, and his face dropped. So did yours.

You hoped for a split second you could pretend you were total strangers randomly meeting in a bar for just a little longer when he instantly frowned and his demeanor changed from charming gentleman to pain in the ass.

“Y/L/N,” he uttered it in a way that made you wonder if there was something wrong with your last name. “Guess I shouldn't be surprised to see you here.”

And here it was — the instant wave of anger and hurt he managed to bring up by just a few poking words.

“Says the right person.” You rolled your eyes, the flowing feeling the alcohol gave you before now gone. You felt like you were going to be sick. “I bet if it wasn't me you tried to hit on, you'd bring the poor woman to your hotel room tonight.”

“Careful, or you might sound jealous.”

“Oh, you wish, Alonso,” you laughed humorlessly.

The bartender chose that moment to bring you the requested cocktail you already forgot about. You gave him the cash, though you had no intention of actually drinking it. As always, Alonso left a sour taste in your mouth.

“I see you're drinking the team problems away,” he pressed harder, knowing damn well it was a sensitive topic. You gritted your teeth, reminding yourself to be the better person.

Then you looked into his dark eyes, and your self-control was gone. For some reason, you couldn't stand the look he was giving you. It was full of something that was too similar to disappointment. You hated people being disappointed in you, even if you hated that very person.

Out of nowhere, the alcohol kicked in, and you remembered why you didn't drink in clubs too often — it made you emotional. So stupidly sensitive that you couldn't stop your eyes from tearing up. You shook your head, opened your mouth, wanting to tell him something. Anything that'd make him just as much hurt as you were.

Instead, you bit your trembling lip and abruptly stood up. You almost knocked over the bar stool, though at the moment, you didn't really care.

Was it cowardly to run away from him and his harsh words? Yes, you knew that. But you did it in the elevator, and so you could do it again.

In a rush, you got through other people enjoying their night out, oblivious to the lump forming in your throat. You needed to get out, breathe in the fresh air and just forget about everything.

It was probably nearing midnight, and even though it was late July, you still shivered when you stepped outside the club. Just then you remembered you left your jacket back in the paddock. And you also realized the mechanic and his group of friends drove you here, and you had no idea where you were or how to get to your hotel room.

“Great. Just fucking perfect,” you mumbled to yourself, a few tears running down your cheeks. You wiped them away, willing yourself to calm down. Budapest couldn't be too different from other European cities, so you'd just walk to the nearest public transport station and then see what you could do from there. Yes, that was exactly what you're going to do, and it's going to be okay.

Having a plan calmed you down, at least a little. You walked in a direction you hoped would get you to the center and took your phone out. The battery was low, and you cursed yourself for not charging it during the day.

“Where are you going?” You winced and nearly dropped the phone when you heard the loud voice calling after you.

When you turned around, you already knew exactly who was standing before the club entrance.

“That's not any of your business,” you tried to sound tough, but it came out tired and weak. So instead, you lifted your head, trying to save the remaining bits of your dignity.

Alonso tilted his head, brown eyes studying you for a moment before he made a step towards you. “Don't tell me you don't have anyone to take you back to your hotel?” The undertone of his voice was strange, and if you didn't know better, you'd think it was worry seeping out.

“Oh, then I won't tell you,” you fired back, satisfied with your own answer as you turned around and left him standing there.

You made it around the block when a strong hand suddenly grasped your hand, and you screamed, prepared to fight whoever attacked you.

“¡Ay dios mío!” Alonso cursed and held his red cheek, where there was a clear hand print now.

You stared at each other in shock. You wanted to kill him for scaring you to death, but at the same time, you were relieved it was just him and not a creepy kidnapper.

“I'd say I'm sorry… but I'm not,” you managed to mumble. A weak attempt, you knew that. But it still seemed to wake him from his trance and make him scoff at you in annoyance.

However, he didn't let go of your hand.

“Let's go,” Alonso urged you back towards the direction you came from.

“I'm not going anywhere with you.”

“Y/N, if you think I would let a drunk girl wander around a city she doesn't know, alone, at night… then you clearly don't know me at all.”

It took a few seconds for his words to hit you, and all there was left for you to do was to look up at him with surprise written all over your face. That seemed to annoy him for some reason, but with alcohol still very much present in your system, you didn't have the capacity to think about it too much.

“Let's go,” he repeated, though this time you didn't protest when he started walking towards what turned out to be his car. You knew it very well, from the years you used to work together, for the same team. Silently, you wondered how the hell did he get it to Hungary, but you soon forgot about that.

Fernando unlocked the car and opened the passenger door for you. Your mom would probably tell you to be more cautious about getting into the car of a man you didn't like and were sure he didn't like you as well. But hey, it's still better than being lost in a foreign city, right?

So you sat down, and before you could reach for the seatbelt, he took it and strapped you himself, mumbling something about safety hazards with drunk people. You were so surprised by that unexpected action you didn't even have time to feel offended.

You closed your eyes, the comfortable seat making you sleepy. You heard him get in the car as well and join the night traffic. For a moment, silence reigned and for the first time in a long time, it didn't feel horrible and tense.

“Isn't it illegal to drive with alcohol?” you whispered, eyes still closed.

“I didn't drink anything in the club. Too busy with you.”

Just then, you realized you actually asked the question out loud.

“Sorry for ruining your celebration night. Probably didn't want to leave it with me,” you laughed quietly. When he approached you in the club, he thought you were a random pretty woman with whom he could share a drink and take her to his bed for a fun night.

“Whatever.” You could hear him shrug his shoulders. “Sorry for ruining your night. Though you don't have much to celebrate.”

That made you open your eyes and gaze at him. He was looking straight ahead, concentrating on the road ahead. The lights of the other cars occasionally landed on his face, and you wondered if he was always so handsome, or it were the cocktails speaking for you.

“Wow, even in an apology there's a hidden insult,” you snickered, though there was a small grin on your lips now. Yes, definitely the alcohol speaking for you, you told yourself.

This time, Fernando actually looked at you before he averted his sight back to the traffic. “I wasn't insulting you, Y/N. I was insulting the team.”

You raised your eyebrows, but didn't comment on it. It was pointless to argue over this, he had his opinion about Alpine and given the fact both your cars didn't finish two races in a row, you didn't have exactly the best arguments to convince him otherwise. After all, he was part of the team last year. And the year before.

For the rest of your ride, there wasn't much more said between the both of you. You were tired — not just because of the night out and drinking, but from the whole week, from the whole season.

Finally, he parked the car before a building you recognized. You didn't ask him how he knew which hotel your team booked, perhaps he remembered it was the same one as the year before. Honestly, you were just glad he helped you get out of the car and walked you inside.

Then, you found yourself in an elevator alone with Fernando, again. Though unlike a month ago, he gently held your hand for support this time.

You told him your room number and somehow, he got you all the way in front of the door. You thanked all the saints in the world when you dug the keys out of your purse. After three unsuccessful tries at unlocking the room, Fernando's patience apparently ran out. He took the keys out of your hand and silently opened the lock.

“Thanks,” you muttered, and let him lead you inside your own hotel room.

When the light switch turned on and illuminated all the papers lying around, he looked at you, flabbergasted.

“What's all this?”

You shrug your shoulders and look at him like he was stupid. Which he was, at least in your humble opinion. “Work. What else?”

“Yes, yes. But why is it… here?” He motions towards the desk, nightstands, and bed.

“Because I don't have time to do it all in the office.”

“You work overtime?”

Now you were starting to get irritated.

“Yes, I work overtime. Maybe if you weren't so insistent in thinking I'm a dumb party girl ever since I made one stupid mistake in your car's analysis a year ago, you'd see I'm actually trying my best.” You hated how hurt you sounded, pathetic in your own ears.

But honestly, who was he to judge you? You never actually stood up to him before, defended yourself against his mean words. You always sucked it up, let him complain about you to your boss, who almost fired you because of the driver's obvious distaste for you. And when he left the team at the end of last year, you never tried to contact him, talk to him. Fix your non-existent relationship.

Today, though, you had enough. Maybe it was the alcohol giving you courage, maybe it was his shocked face when he realized you actually did your job.

“Y/N, I-”

“Get out,” you said in a tone that didn't allow for any objections. Fernando seemed to understand, but the pained expression didn't leave his face when he slowly walked to the door. Like he didn't really want to leave, like he desperately wanted to tell you something.

You didn't care about him. He never cared about you before as well, did he?

And so, with one last, regretful look in his dark eyes, Fernando Alonso left your hotel room. When tears ran down your cheeks, you weren't sure why you were even crying.

-----

You were avoiding him after that. It wasn't the easiest thing to do, but you managed and after surviving the Belgian Grand Prix in Spa, you were excited about the summer break as never before. Almost a whole month without races, which meant you wouldn't have to meet anyone from the other teams, including Fernando.

Usually, the team worked tirelessly through the summer break — it was a great chance to have a proper look into the car's engine and come up with new ideas and improvements. God knew you needed that. Typically, you were amongst those loyal employees, basically living in the Alpine headquarters.

However, this year you really wanted a break. So you used your vacation days and stayed in your flat, finally sleeping like a normal person for once, eating home-cooked meals instead of team catering and enjoying the summer, though the weather could be better in England.

It was the start of August when you started finding flower deliveries on the threshold of your door. First, you thought it's a mistake, though what woman would refuse a beautiful bouquet of her favorite flowers. When it happened a whole week in a row, you thought about having a secret admirer or, in the worse case scenario, a stalker. Though, you still took the flowers inside every morning, cherishing them.

And then, one day, there was an envelope attached to the bouquet, and you had to curse yourself for being so, so stupid. Of course it's him, Fernando. Begging you to talk to him, to let him explain. One dinner, he said. One dinner, and then he'll let you go on about your life.

When he tried to write a poem in the middle of August, you finally gave in. You found his old phone number saved amongst many other contacts and sent him a simple “okay”.

The next morning, there was a time and address of the restaurant in the envelope.

You didn't let yourself get too excited about any of it. It's Fernando Alonso, the man who almost caused you to get fired from your dream job, the one that was so mean to you after making wrong assumptions about you and your way of life. Yes, he was trying now, but was that enough?

When the taxi dropped you off in front of the fancy restaurant, you took a deep breath. You had a simple dress on, light makeup, and a few accessories.

You walked into the empty restaurant. The waitress smiled at you when you told her the name of the reservation and led you to the only set table. You could see the deep brown eyes looking directly at you from afar.

Suddenly, nervousness settled in your stomach. If you didn't know better, you'd think this was a date — it certainly felt like one.

Without a word, he helped you sit down on a chair across from him and the waitress handed you the menu. It was without prices, but you were certain this place was lavish and expensive. Perhaps Fernando didn't want you to worry about it and let you order anything you wanted. And you tried not to be too impressed by that.

“You look very beautiful, hermosa,” he spoke after a minute of tense silence while you pretended to be interested in the menu. You didn't miss the fact he used the same nickname like that night in the club, when he thought you were someone else.

“Compliments won't make it easier for you.” Maybe you lied, because you liked him calling you beautiful.

“I know, but I couldn't help myself.”

The waitress came back with a bottle of wine that Fernando must've ordered before you arrived. You took a sip and it tasted like heaven. It almost made you forget about everything, almost.

“Please, can we talk?” You never heard his voice sound so… unsure.

“Aren't we talking right now?”

“Y/N.” The way he said your name was so soft, so delicate.

“Fernando.” You saw him flinch, and you realized it was probably the first time you called him by his first name. Suddenly, the whole situation felt more intimate.

He gulped, but there was determination written all over his face. Fernando Alonso wasn't the type of man to give up, you knew that. His amazing racing career was proof of that.

“Listen to me, please. I know that you have the right to never speak to me again after how I treated you. But I want to fix it, Y/N.”

Those brown eyes were going to be the death of you, burying themselves into your soul, your heart.

“I want to fix all of it, Y/N,” he repeated with all seriousness. “If you let me,” Fernando added.

And how could you say no to him? Deep down, you always admired him. Liked him, even. Before that fuck up with his car's analysis, you thought he might like you back. You always wanted his approval, and that was one of the reasons why his words and insults hurt so much.

Sometimes, people deserved second chances. Especially when they were looking at you like you hung the stars in the sky.

Slowly, you nodded. “I think I might let you, Fernando.” You smiled, liking how his name felt on your tongue. “But it's not going to be easy, I'm telling you that,” you warned him with a raised finger.

“I wouldn't dream of anything less,” he replied with a thick Spanish accent that was stronger when he felt emotions. Fernando returned your smile and clinked his glass with yours.

-----

Brazil was a good race. Both Alpine cars ended up in points and Fernando, your Fernando, got another podium. You clapped along with others during the podium ceremony, eyes just for him. A proud feeling settled in you, and as he accepted his trophy for well deserved third place, he looked down at the gathered crowd. Mostly people from Aston Martin, McLaren, and Red Bull.

And then there was you — in your Alpine t-shirt, clapping for the driver who scandalously left your team last year, without a care in the world. That was when he knew he loved you, and that he'll always will.

You knew you loved him too when, after all the celebrating around the circuit died down or moved to clubs and private parties, instead of going to his hotel room, he knocked on the door of yours. Checking on you.

“Hermosa, I hope you're not working.” He rolled his eyes as he stepped in, seeing you indeed staring into your notebook at some data he probably shouldn't see as a part of a rival team.

“But Nando, I need to finish these-”

He cut you off the best way he could — hugging you from behind, gently turning your head towards him and placing his lips on yours. You instantly melted into the kiss, giving up the fight before it could even start.

“I think you need to properly celebrate your boyfriend winning,” he smirked, biting your lip teasingly. You felt like a teenage girl when the butterflies took off in your stomach.

Fernando slowly walked you to the bed, never parting your lips, as if his life depended on kissing you. You sat on his lap, your hips grinding against his as you moaned into his mouth.

And he couldn't help himself. He wanted to take you out on a magical date and tell you there, but how could he keep it a secret when you were sitting on him, so beautiful that his heart clenched. Smart and pretty girl. His smart and pretty girl.

“Te amo,” he whispered into your sweet lips, and your breath caught.

You pulled back a little, looking at him, silently asking if you heard him correctly.

“Te amo, Y/N,” he repeated. You knew enough Spanish for your eyes to tear up. “I love you very much.”

There was a heartbeat of silence, probably the longest one in your whole life.

“I love you too. So much,” you whispered back. And then, for him: “Te amo, Fernando.”

Now it was his turn to tear up, hold your face in his hands and press your foreheads together.

Perhaps the fate and its plans for you weren't so horrible after all.

THE END

Author's Note: Wow, if you read it all to the end, thank you very much! I'll be glad for likes, comments, reblogs, follows and every other way of support. Let me know how you liked this story and if you'd maybe like another oneshot from this "universe" because I have to admit, this version of Fernando and Y/N kind of grew on me... Have a great day and see you at the next post! :)

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pray4byron · 3 months

Note

Hi 👋,

If you're still taking requests, I absolutely loved the most recent one you did with Lucifer, Adam and Vox proposing and marrying their s/o.

If possible could you do one similar to that but for Husk and Alastor?

If not, it's totally cool and I'm loving your work 😊

hellooo, dw i’m still taking requests haha, yeah i can do that for you!! the first part was undeniably fun to write so obviously i’ll do it again for ya haha

Warnings: None(?)

Alastor Proposal + Wedding Headcanons

Alastor never really knew what love truly felt like, until he met you, from that alone — he knew you were the one

His proposal was simple, but still very gentlemanly, his shadows were his band, playing some of your shared favorite songs, and Alastor stood in a different suit than the one he normally wears, a black version with a red streak instead of the white line that goes down the collar

He stood in the center of your room in the hotel, awaiting for you to get back from work, with a bouquet of spider lilies in his hands and a ring box in his pocket.

When you arrive, he has a soft and gentle smile on his face, in contrast to the big grin he usually shows, he didn’t feel vulnerable or at risk with you, so he could wind down with you

He hands you the bouquet and gets down on one knee, taking your ring out of the box, holding it to you, as his other hand takes yours in his and kisses the back of it

“My dearest and truest love, you have made me feel more alive than I ever have, even in my years on Earth.” He started, his radio affect softer than you’ve ever heard it, it’s unlike him, given he usually has a more cheery tone.

“You have showed me what love truly feels like, what in feels like in here —” He said, putting a hand to his heart, “That being said, would you make me the happiest man in Hell and be my lawfully wedded spouse?”

You and Alastor have a wedding almost immediately, thanks to his magic staff.

The ceremony is like any other, other than the fact your soon-to-be husband has a massive fucking grin on his face that did not falter the whole time, other than when you came down the isle, and it seemed to inch up his face more.

When it came to the kiss, he does turn you both around as he does not enjoy displaying affection infront of others, but he also won’t break tradition, so…

The reception is nowhere near boring, he knows how to have a good time, there’s excitable jazz music that has a good chunk of guests swaying and moving their feet

He also may or may not freak out some family members of yours…but that’s okay!

He also does not wish to be in wedding photos, due to his opinions on modern cameras and tech, but will for you, and either way, he knows his grin fucks up the photos in contrast to your beauty so he doesn’t really see the point tbh — but he’ll most likely make you guys use an old camera for effect

Husk Proposal + Wedding

Headcanons

Husk genuinely did not care to get married, well, he would be fine if you did, but he was content the way you both were, but he knew how much of a romantic you were so…

Quite frankly, he probably had the laziest proposal out of everyone I’ve written for for this, while you guys were laying in bed, bitch asked you if you would ever wanna get married and proceeded to basically chuck the ring box at you.

You and Husk were in your shared bed. It was late, you were just about to doze off for the night, until you heard Husk’s gruff voice pipe up.

“I have a question for ya.” He said, staring at the ceiling with you on his furry chest. “And that is?” you ask, popping your head up in curiosity,

“Would you ever wanna get married?” He asked, looking down at you, a soft and subtle smirked played on his lips. “Oh!- Uh, probably!” You answered, a bit thrown off by the question.

“‘Kay, great.” Husk muttered, plopping the ring box in between you two. “Husk, what the fu-”

Yeah before you could finish he was already asleep 😛

Husk mainly leaves wedding planning to you, not cause he’s a dick, but it’s just not his thing, he will help out when need be though

At the ceremony, Husk is holding back a couple tears, only a few though!

He never saw himself as the sentimental type, and he knows he didn’t really have the desire to do this in the first place, but now? He knows he made the right choice, even if it was at 2 in the morning.

The reception is chill, it’s kinda just sitting around and chatting, and yes there’s a bar, and Husk is pissed he can’t work it.

There’s chill jazz music in the back, but it’s not like Alastor’s where it had people swaying, it was more soothing, and it wasn’t like Adam’s where people were absolutely bopping to music either

You guys still don’t know if you’re having a honeymoon, Husk is still way too tired and way too hungover to make that decision.

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tiredfox64 · 7 days

Note

Hellooo! First of all, I love your fics, especially Tomas's. They are very entertaining and the way you write is just great ^^

This is more of a question than a request, although you can develop it further if you want.

How would the linkuei trio react to a s/o who says "I hate men... except you"

It came to me out of nowhere and I thought it was funny 🙃

There Are Exceptions

Prior notes: Hehehe I throughly enjoyed writing this. Also I forgot to say this with other people’s requests who gave me compliments but thank you so much for liking my writing! (*´∀｀*)

Pairing: Lin Kuei Bros x Afab reader

Warnings ‼️: Men

Bi-Han

These dim witted, nitwit goobers who serve your husband are too much to handle. All they know how to do is punch and kick. They have no other survival instincts that can save their asses.

It’s so tiring being the one to try to help them with whatever. A woman can only do so much.

You tried teaching them how to sew only for them to say something stupid like it’s a woman’s hobby. Forget about cooking. You have never seen someone screw up scramble eggs so much that it doesn’t even form. How the fuck does it stay watery? And why are you the only one who knows how to fold clothes? Screw steaming out their wrinkles.

Your last straw today came in the nighttime when one of the clansmen came up to you and ask the most stupidest question you have ever heard.

“Uhm, some of the men were telling me that a woman’s period was when she peels her skin every month. Is that true? Cause if it is you hide it well.” This clueless assassin…oh goodness.

You just stared blankly at the young man. It had to be a joke, right? They can’t be that stupid. Actually, you don’t want to know if they are that stupid. You walked away briskly with one thing on your mind and you had to shout it out. The moment you walk into your bedroom you slammed the door shut and screamed,

“I hate men!”

Bi-Han was already in bed, waiting for you to come around. He stared at you with that grumpy expression he always has before folding his arms in front of his chest. A low grumble was being emitted by him.

How can you say you hate men when you are married to one? One that treats you like the queen you are considered you are the grandmaster’s wife. He is also one who pleasures you till you are fully satisfied. Course, it’s more like you have to go on until he is satisfied.

“…except you.”

“Mhm, that’s right. I should be the exception here. I am the grandmaster, I deserve your full respect.” Bi-Han reminded you of his role as if he doesn’t do so every day.

“And you are also my husband,” you walked up to him and placed a kiss on his forehead, “Now would you mind spooning me for tonight.”

“After that outburst, I am unsure if you deserve it.” Now he’s just being petty.

You pouted as you changed into your sleepwear. If Bi-Han looked for at least five seconds he would have caved. But he looked away immediately to prevent himself from changing his decision. You huffed as you slipped into bed. You went on your side and pretended like you didn’t care. You did because you always lost the idgaf war.

“Please, I love you.” You said over your shoulder.

Bi-Han let out a groan before turning over and wrapping his arms around your waist. Haha you win.

You may not like men but you love this man. You like this man because he’s your man.

Kuai Liang

Why does no one think of the logical answer to something?

You go out to the market all the time so you could help feed the Shirai Ryu. It helps lessen responsibilities for your husband. But even this simple task is made difficult and stupid because of some of the venders. More specifically the men.

You asked for watermelon and they hand you plastic containers with the funkiest bits of watermelon. They are discolored and are definitely past their ripeness. Yet they all tell you it’s fine. It’s not fine! It’s not good quality! Why even cut the watermelon in the first place you can do it yourself!

You want some mangos? Well you can’t fucking have any because they don’t got it. Oh what’s that? A BUNCH OF FUCKING MANGOS RIGHT BEHIND THEM! And they tell you that those are honey mangoes you didn’t specifically ask for those. They told you no because they thought you wanted Haden mangoes. Just give the woman a fucking mango!

You’re so over those male venders. They never even help you pack the carts up.

You’re too tired went you get back to the temple. You let everyone else pack the food away without helping out this time. You can’t be bothered. You take your shoes off, step into the temple, and sigh heavily.

“I hate men.” You groaned.

You didn’t realize Kuai Liang was coming up to you to greet you. You looked up and saw his face. He stared blankly with a bit of concern.

“…except you.”

You wanted to make it right so you ran up to him, giving him many kisses and hugging him.

“What has made you so hateful, my love? Did someone at the market bother you?” He asked with concern.

Kuai Liang was not at all mad at what you said. He found it odd which meant there was something wrong. His hands went up to check if maybe it was something physical. He would hate to find out you were hurt while out. What kind of husband would he be if he can’t protect his wife?

“Many people bothered me at the market today. Some people are unfortunate stupid.” You replied.

“Perhaps you can tell me all about it in bed. I’ll make you some tea to help with the stress.” He took your hands as you both walked to the bedroom.

Kuai Liang is the kind of man you need in your life. If only the men at the market had his intelligence. Though you do like being cared for when there is any sign of distress from you. It makes you feel like a princess.

Tomas

To help train the Earthrealm champions is like trying to train a seal, a kangaroo, a bison, and a Komodo dragon to leap at least a meter out of the water. One will succeed, another will jump but not reach it, another one won’t try to jump, and the other will be too busy trying to mate with you.

They are all nice in their own way but Johnny is the worst of them all. You tell him you are happily married and it’s in one ear and out the other. Just because his marriage failed doesn’t mean yours has to.

Kenshi is alright he just has stubborn. He believes it’s nerves that wins fights. If that were true why does he keep failing to you. And when he is not going against you he’s going after Johnny’s throat. You get it, Johnny won’t give back Sento. But now is not the time to bust his ass.

Kung Lao just gets on everyone’s nerves. You have never seen a bunch of monks ready to implode and strangle someone. Don’t forget that you almost lost your head because he flung his hat in the wrong direction. All you got back was a small ‘sorry’ before he took his hat and ran off.

And Raiden…he’s fine. He’s done no wrong.

Yet no matter what you always have to return and help the fools. You give and give and what do you receive? Hell!

You are exhausted when you return home. You don’t talk to anyone you just go straight to your bedroom. You let out a groan the whole time and when the door closes you let that groan become words.

“I hate men.”

Tomas was already waiting for you in the bedroom. He was walking up to you to hug you until he heard those words. He looked concerned and even a little sad.

Well he’s a man, do you hate him? Did he do something wrong? He hopes he didn’t, he doesn’t want an unhappy wife.

Your attitude immediately went away at the sight of Tomas.

“…except you.”

You ran into his arms and hugged him tight. You could never hate a man like Tomas. He is your husband after all. You picked a good one compared to all the other men that you have seen.

“I’m guessing they upset you again.” He asked.

You nodded. The day is already over you don’t feel like talking about every single stupid thing that they did. Tomas understood and hugged you tight.

“Do you want me to beat them up?” He whispered jokingly in your ear.

For once today you laughed. He always manages to bring a smile to your face. You wish you could let him but that would be a bad decision. Though it’s funny to think about. He was just happy to hear that wonderful laugh of yours. It just shows that he’s a good man to you. He can turn a frown upside down and make you see the good in men. Or at least the good in him.

After notes: Can you tell I got pissed off with Kuai Liang’s part? That shits a little too true. Those instacart tik toks be crazy. Here’s a little experience of when I hated men: one didn’t take no for an answer for YEARS. He still can’t take no even from other girls. But most of the men I know are good. Alright enough yip yap I must march on. Adiós!

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redishflavor · 4 months

Note

Hellooo I seen that you were looking for requests so I was wondering if I could request a Floyd x fem reader cuddle headcanons :] if not that’s totally fine thank youuu

😭 THANK YOU SO MUCHHH 😭😭😭😭😭

A/n -> I'm not that good at headcanons yet, so if anything is a bit messy so sorry! English isn't my first language and I just realized that I made it more gender neutral than fem so sorry 😅

Floyd x fem!Reader cuddle headcanons

this man probably is really warm, so if it's winter and you want to cuddle, he's your personal heater

he doesn't mind being little spoon if you want to be big spoon. He really can go both ways

HUGE fan of those little head massages when he's little spoon

like he probably fell asleep one time like that

will sometimes hum a song while cuddling you

sometimes when you sleep together, you'll wake up with him clinging to you

when you first cuddled with him as small spoon he didn't know what to do

like you had to guide his hands and everything

when you first cuddles with him as big spoon you were kinda worried you would crush him

he just told you that you were perfect while slowly letting you rest on him

sometimes would whisper compliments into your ear

or you would do it to him

either way yall are both flustered

sometimes when you two cuddle its during the day to just relax with each other

you two sometimes share earphones/earbuds while cuddling

if this is after the events of TBT he might have some small nightmares of when he was stuck in the diamond bottle

that's when he just silently cuddles up to you

I feel like he would be comforted by your presence, and you wouldn't need to speak as much when comforting him

those moments mean a lot to him

I know this isn't really a cuddling headcanon but if you two are far away from eachother you sometimes fall asleep on call (let's just pretend they have phones)

really likes it when you give him small kisses all over his face when cuddling or in general

he might do it back, but then he gets flustered and hides his face either in his hands or in your neck

I js realized this was pretty short but yea 😅 still I hope you like it!

#x reader #trolls floyd #trolls floyd x reader #brozone x reader #trolls x reader

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kairiscorner · 9 months

Note

HELLOOO 👋👋

can you do where Miles kisses reader but reader doesn't kiss back to tease him... when Miles pulled back and reader wipes her lips..

+i really love your one shots,, they got me giggling and sht 🤭

HI ANON 🫶🫶🫶 okay, so i'm not entirely sure if i did this one right, I HOPE I DID....... also i saw your other message, AND DW ABOUT IT, IT'S OKAYYYY we all make mistakes <:DD you're welcome here any time :3

(reblogs are greatly appreciated, it helps get my content out there! if you guys like what you see, please reblog it too <:D)

just one kiss, that's all

"whaddya think, that was pretty good, no?" he asked you with a cheeky grin on his face as his mask was pulled upwards just a little bit. you weren't impressed in the slightest, or at least, that's how you wanted it to seem. you shrugged. "it was okay, morales." you said as he paced around the ceiling for a little, chuckling to himself at your apathetic response. "it's like you weren't even there and don't believe me! i'm telling you, that crook was getting nowhere near my lover." he said as he sauntered over to you as you sat down on your bed, looking up at him and raising an eyebrow, pouting your lips and keeping your arms crossed over your chest. "i can handle myself just fine, morales. you gotta worry about yourself." you said as he looked into your eyes lovingly with a lopsided grin on his face, because he knew you agreed to this little bet you two made, and miles doesn't forget rewards from his hard work so easily.

miles placed a hand on your cheek and smirked to himself as you gave no reaction, you were completely and utterly giving him silent and poker face treatment. "what's mi corazon doing now, hmm? you know, you're super cute when you smile and chuckle at my stupid stunts sometimes... but you pouting to them is much cuter." he teased you, to which you fake groaned at. "whatever, it isn't worth you getting scuffed up. even if you're spider man, you're still a boy." "correction, a man." he joked as he smiled wider at you. "the day you'll be a man is the day you get kisses from me without having to save me after i call for you." you said with a smirk up at him to match his confidence at that moment.

miles laughed a little as he neared your face. "now, come on, can't we get on with it, babe? i love you a whole lot, that's why i saved you. not just to... to feel your lips on mine, y'know..." he said as he ran a hand through your hair and got a little flustered in the face, and so did you, and you couldn't shake it off. "no. you put yourself in danger, you weren't in your suit when you saved me–" "but i saved you nonetheless, didn't i, mi amor?" he asked you with an eyebrow raise. "our bet was that you'd kiss me the minute i saved you, and it was in a minute. no rules were stated that i had to be in the suit." he said, and he had a point, but you turned away from him with an unwavering poker face. "still, i can't reward risky behavior; not even for you, morales." you said with a stern tome in your voice.

"you promised... come on, please don't leave your friendly neighborhood spider man all alone with unkissed lips..." miles whined, to which you took in a deep breath. you sighed, and looked at him, who was looking at you desperately for that reward of his that he so badly deserved. you caved, he was too cute for you to say no to.

"...fine." you said, finally giving in, as miles gasped in delight. "yes!" he exclaimed to himself softly. "okay, i promise i won't chicken out this time." he said as he cupped your face, and slowly... he kissed you, his lips were soft against yours. you held back all your urges to kiss him back, though, because even if you let him kiss you, you weren't going to fully reward him for his recklessness for a mere kiss.

as miles pulled away, he looked at you expectantly in your eyes for something, anything--any indication that you reciprocated his love, his emotions towards you. he smiled awkwardly, "love?" he called out for you. "come on now, don't be like that..." trying to fluster you, trying to flirt with you, to get you embarrassed for him, but all he was greeted with was your stoic expression, your unchanging, stoic expression.

the worst part was when you wiped his kiss off your lips, with him witnessing you doing so. you folded your arms in front of your chest again. "what?" you asked him in a slightly irritated voice when he didn't say anything after you did that. you turned to look at him, and he was on the verge of sobbing. "mi cielo... babe, what'd i do wrong? i just... i'd always save you, if this whole thing is about that, y'know... i'm sorry..." he said in a soft voice as he placed his hands on either sides of your face, his eyes going wider, sadder, and filling with tears knowing you didn't want to kiss him back. you sighed, and soon, you cracked a small smile. "i'm sorry, miles." you finally said as you placed your hands on his face now. "i can't reward stupid behavior, you know that." "but it wasn't stupid, you were in trouble. with or without the suit, as spider man or as miles morales, i'll always save you."

and that... that made you realize. that made you realize miles didn't care about the bet, about getting a kiss from you or showing off--he really wanted to save you that day because he knew you were in trouble, even if it jeopardized him and his identity as spider man. "really?" you asked him as you ran a thumb over his cheek. "really." he said, and soon, you pulled him in close to give him what he's needed all this time--the feeling of your lips against his. since miles wasn't the best teaser in the world and was easy to give in when it came to you, you felt him kiss you back, and it was an adoring, sweet sensation--the feeling of his soft lips against yours was enough to tell you that he genuinely loved you, more than any other boy had before towards you.

as he pulled away, he looked back at you, his face flustered so badly--and he smiled widely again. though his eyes looked glassy because of how he was almost about to cry at your teasing because he thought you didn't love him anymore, his anxiety was replaced with long overdue relief. "i love you, miles." you told him as he kissed your forehead. "and i love you, so... so much." he replied as he rested his forehead against yours, just feeling you near him, loving how near you are--how you're within reach of him, how he can just love you and it'd all be so right to both of you, despite the stunts he does to protect you;

because he loves you.

tags !! @ii01vq @luvstarrstruck @maxoloqy @k4tsu3 @solecitoszn @toneystank-3000 @fictarian @zalayni @q2ie

#miles morales #earth 1610 miles morales #miles morales x reader #miles morales x you #miles morales x y/n #miles morales fluff #atsv #atsv fluff #atsv imagines #atsv x reader #atsv x you #atsv x y/n #spiderman across the spiderverse

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lucerothings1 · 11 months

Text

Dad’s best friend

Chris wood x male reader smut

Warnings: gay sex, top Chris, bottom reader, oral, ass play, cowboy position, sir kink slightly used

Summary: your dad’s old best friend is back in town to visit and one thing leads to an other.

“M/n” your dad whispered into your room as you where awake “what what’s up” you responded half asleep. “Um on of my friends is over I would like you to meet so when your up and get ready please come down okay” “yeah I’ll go down in a bit” you growled back with your face buried in your pillows.

As you got up from your bed you decided to take a shower and get dressed. “Yeah shit yeah I remember” you heard your dad say as you got down stairs to see they where having a couple of beers.

Um Chris Id like you to meet my son M/n” your dad introduced you “ nice to meet you M/n I’m Chris” “Nice to meet you to Chris and I’m how do you know my dad” “Oh we go way back I went to college with him and I was here in town so I thought might as well go say hey” Chris responded.

“Well your always welcome here man” your dad said “Thanks man” Chris said patting your dads shoulder.

* Timeskip

It was now getting late and your dad had been outside in the back yard with Chris since they made food outside and they had continued to drink since you went back up to your room.

“Hey um where’s the bathroom” Chris had poked his head into the room looking at you. “What um yeah end of hallway to the left” you said “okay thanks” “ mm hum” you hummed in response.

“Hey um thank you again for the directions” Chris said walking into your room with his hands in his pockets. “No need to thank me but why wouldn’t you ask my dad” “Well um hey is a bit of a lightweight when it comes to his drinking I bought him inside and laid him on the sofa” “Oh my god thank you so much and yeah I understand he sometimes can’t control his liquor” you said sighing.

No it’s fine plus I should of known I went to college with him after all but thank him for me please I’m gonna head out before it gets more late” “no please stay the night my dad would kill me if I let you go and plus you did drink a bit and it’s not a good idea to be on the road” you told to Chris.

“Um really thank you but it’s not really necessary” “oh please quit it and please I need to k ow more about my dad in college he hardly speaks of it” you said patting a spot on your bed for Chris to take a seat.

After awhile of discussing of your father and Chris friendship in college you also happened to tell Chris himself was a little tipsy. “So what about you M/n the son of Alexander College royalty” Chris joked around after telling you about how your bad had been so popular back in the day.

“Well not much going on in my life I’m single and I’m 19 I have a 8 to 5 job I have weekends off and I don’t really do much so there isn’t really much to talk about” “ What, what do you mean your single you look hot and no girlfriend” “Um yeah no girlfriend and plus I don’t go towards girls mostly guys” you responded to Chris.

“Oh I’m sorry I shouldn’t have jumped to thinking” “ it’s fine your good” you said reassuring Chris to not feel bad. “So you um like guys then” “ yeah I’m gay” “yeah I mean I would see why I remember back from the college days.”

“Wait your gay to or” “No I’m just me plus it was in college where everyone normally experiments with guys and girls but it’s been along time since I tapped a nice tight ass” “give me a minute “ you said getting up from your bed and going down stairs to find your dad on the living room sofa snoring and asleep “dad dad hellooo” you whispered loudly as for your dad gave you no response.

“What happened” Chris said fro your bed “my dads past out on the sofa there’s no way his gonna get up tonight not until tomorrow evening” you said taking off your shoes and belt buckle and shirt.

“Um what are you doing Chris said with a confused look on his face. “Well you miss the tight asses right” you told Chris “yeah but what dos—wait nooo no no no noo” he said with the realization finally hitting him.

“I can’t sleep with my best friends son that’s like a big no no” “well I say it’s a big yes yes plus I have a tight ass I’m gay your you and your hard I can see your bulge” you said staring in between his legs as he looked to being caught.

“Well yes your hot and I’d like to fuck your ass but your dads down stairs” he said as you walked up to him unbuckling his belt and pushing him on to the bed. “Well then do it Chris” you said as you went on top of him.

“Fuck it” he said smirking with joy as he took off his shirt and sat up on your bed as he pulled you onto his lap “Exactly what I want you to do” you said smiling. As he pulled you to him locking your lips together in a heated kiss.

As you gave him entrance into your mouth as he explored your mouth with his tongue as you felt his arms move from your waist to your ass as he started to feel your clothed ass as he reached into your pants as you felt his fingertips tough your hole as he pulled off your pants and underwear all at once.

“Oh fuck baby you gotta hot ass he said as you began to fully take off your pants and his as well now in front of each other as you saw his clothed bulge now only being covers by his underwear as you started to kiss down his chest and leaving marks as he moaned happily cause of your touch.

As you got closer now to his erection you now removing his underwear and beginning to kiss down his waist and next to his cock teasing him as you began by first kissing his red fiery tip.

“Mm you do now how to tease someone don’t you” Chris said to you as he closed his eyes awaiting for your mouth as he could feel your lips and breath sending chills down his spine. As you began to put in the tip into your mouth as you swallowed him whole taking all of his 11 inches all the way down to his base where you could feel his pubs rubbing against your nose as you could smelling his mustiness.

“Uhh-Oh you are definitely a natural to suck cock nobody normal can deep throat me” he said breathlessly as he belt you hum in acknowledgment on his cock sending more vibrations to him making him more desperate as he got a ahold of your face as he started to plunge you on to his throbbing cock.

“Oh fuck yeah take this cock M/n” he moaned out as he continued to fuck your throat. “Oh fuck yeah ima cum oh fuuuuck yeah come on swallow it” he said as he pushed you down completely onto his cock as he painted your throat white .

As you got up from his cock covered with your saliva leaving a string of saliva from his cock to your mouth as he pulled you top of him. “Come on baby where gonna stretch out that little hole of yours” he said as you laid on his chest as he pulled your legs up and started to push your ass cheeks apart to reveal your throbbing hole.

“Suck” he said to you as he put his fingers up to your mouth as you obeyed. “That’s good enough baby” he said as he took his fingers and began to circle your entrance as you moaned melting from feeling his touch.

“Oh fuuuckkk” you moaned out of breath “Ah you feel so good baby, coming undone with just my fingers all tight and hot around me” he said as he begun to push his fingers into you as you begun to push yourself on to his fingers more to try to make him get to your good spot.

Oh no baby your not getting off that easy when the fun has truly only begun I’m purposely not hitting that little bundle of nerves you so desperately crave for me to reach. He said to you as he continued to fuck you with his fingers ever so slowly teasing you.

“Okay your open enough” he said as he removed his fingers causing you to whine but know whine “Don’t be like that plus your gonna get in upgrade” he said as he started to push his tip into your hole as you could feel your hole being ripped apart by him not only was he long in his length but he was thick in his width as well.

Oh-ah mm-mhum” “shhh it’s fine I’m almost in completely” he said as he begin to kiss you to muffle your moans as he pushed past your entrance as he was now completely in giving you time to adjust.

“Oh fuck I missed this so much” Chris said breathless as he felt your warm hole around him. “See I told you Chris” you said to him as you got up from his chest “Call me sir I don’t like being called Chris well I have my dick up your ass” he said smiling happily.

“Okay sir” you said as you started to rock your hips and ride his cock as you placed your hand on his chest and he placed his around your waist as he watched your hips mesmerized as you rode him. “Oh fuck yeah baby you like my cock” “ oh fuc-k ye-s-s sir” you moaned as you rode him after now holding onto his shoulders.

“Yeah fuck your self on my cock baby fuck your self so hard so your dad wakes up and sees me with my cock up your ass baby” he said as he gripped you’re waist and began to fuck you hard and all that could be heard was skin clapping on skin and moans.

“Ah shit fuck sir yeah fuck my ass with your big cock” you moaned loudly as you could feel him tearing your ass up even more. “Mm-ahhh fuuuuuckk ima cum” “ Yeah cum for me baby cum for my big cock” Chris yelled as you cummed all over the bed and on him as he continued to fuck you through your high.

“Oh-Ah fuck yeah I’ma fucking cum” he yelled as you begun to feel his warm milk leaking out of your ass as you now rode him through his high.

“Oh fuck that was amazing” he said breathless as you stayed on top of him as you felt him go soft inside you “Why don’t you stay here” you asked him “um yeah okay I’ll stay tonight on your bed” he said in response.

“No I mean yes but we have a extra room stay a couple of days and I’ll convince my dad to make you move in so we could fuck anytime and anywhere when my dad works unless you don’t want to” “please and go away missing his tight ass no way” he said slapping your ass. “But right now I’m tired and I want to sleep is that okay” he said looking up at you “ yeah I’m tired to” you said as you where about to get off him” no stay I like being in you” he said as you then just laid on top of his chest soon falling asleep on top of him while he was still in you as though the night you could feel his cock pulse.

#gay smut #gay #lucerothings1 #Chris wood x male reader #Chris wood

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short-honey-badger · 2 months

Text

Cramps and Cream Pies

hellooo my JJk ladies. This may be a bit niche, but I am currently on my period and couldn't get my mind off Dead Beat Dad Toji. He's just too fine. Anyway! I hope you enjoy!

Warnings! SMUT. Period sex but it's not graphic. Shower sex. Vomit is mentioned. It's Toji. He's nothing but a red flag. Breeding Kink too.

@goth-mami-writer who giggled with me over the title ❤️

Fushiguro Toji could hear you retching from where he was lounging on the couch. It was your time of the month, and it seemed to be hitting you harder than usual. He usually wouldn’t bother with helping you, or even asking if you needed anything, but listening to you cough and groan made his chest feel tight and guilt eat at his black heart. He sighs loudly and rises from the couch when he doesn’t hear any sound coming from the bathroom after a while, worrying for his girlfriend making him move his lazy ass.

Toji finds you curled on the floor, arm tight around your abdomen, and a pitiful expression painted on your pale face. He leans in the doorway, crossing his arms and giving you a look of sympathy, even if his words do not match his expression.

“You look like you feel like shit.”

He is rewarded with a glare, though it’s less effective than a wet kitten.

“Thanks, Toji,” You sneer and roll over with a groan, not wanting to look at the asshole you call a boyfriend.

“Thanks for stating the obvious.”

The elder Fushiguro huffs and rolls his eyes at you, and then shoves off the door frame to kneel by your side. He slides a hand into your sweaty hair, blunt nails gently scraping along your scalp. You sigh and press into the touch, finding comfort in the surprisingly sweet action.

Toji rolls his eyes at you again and slides his hand away after a moment. You whine at the loss of his touch but are soothed soon after when your lover scoops you up in those thick arms you love so much and cradles you close to his chest. You shove your face in the crook of his neck and focus on your breathing instead of the feeling of your insides twisting into a pretzel.

“Poor babygirl,” Toji coos softly and kisses the side of your head. He holds you up with one arm and reaches for the shower faucet, flicking it on and turning the knob to your preferred temperature. He checks the water after a moment and then carefully sets you down.

“Come on sweetheart, let’s get you cleaned up so you don’t smell gross, anymore.”

You pout at his mean teasing and undress as quickly as you can. You can’t deny that the hot water feels amazing when you step under the spray, and your shower gets better when Toji joins you moments later. He curls an arm around your waist, pulling you flush against his chest, his big hand splayed along your lower stomach. His other hand curls along your hip, and Toji presses his face against yours.

Toji holds you for a while, but he is a simple man, and having you all wet and pressed against him has the mercenary’s cock swell with blood. Toji is shameless in the way he grinds against you, dick pressed into the small of your back.

“Ya know, I heard that sex can help with those cramps. Lemme fuck you, baby,” The elder Fushiguro growls in your ear and the hand on your hip slips further around, fingers easily finding your clit and pinching the sensitive bud meanly.

“Gah! Shit, Toji~,” You hiss his name, head falling back to rest against his chest. You open your eyes and find your lover gazing at you, green eyes half-lidded and full of desire. You nod once, easily giving in to the dark-haired man when he puts just enough pressure on your clit to make your legs tremble.

“Mhmm. You’re such a good girl, baby. Gonna feel so good wrapped around my cock,” Toji mouths at your ear, teeth catching the lobe and nipping it harshly. He nudges your feet apart, dropping the arm that he has around your waist so that he can push you forward and down at the waist. He grabs his cock, guiding his length forward to slide the fat head of his dick through your folds.

Your hands find the shower wall, holding yourself up as Toji parts your pussy and bullies his way inside your cunt. Your lover is thick, so the stretch is a bit painful, but it only enhances the pleasure that Toji gives you. He lets you adjust for only a second before he starts up a brutal pace, cock dragging along your walls and relieving that awful pressure that has bothered you all day.

Toji grips your hip, fucking you back on his cock as he grits his teeth. You are tight, feeling like molten lava around his dick, and Toji never wants to leave. He leans down, lips finding your ear as he snarls filthy promises into your ear.

“I’ll make sure that you miss your next period, yeah? You want that, Mama? You want me to fuck a baby in you?”

You nod franticly, your body on fire as your orgasm finally crests and shatters through you. Your wall constricts, squeezing his cock like a vice, and Toji curses loudly, the suddenness of you coming dragging him down with you. You milk his cock, hungry for more, and your lover eagerly gives it to you, grunting and hissing like a damn animal until his spent dick slips from your puffy folds.

You feel much better, your insides and womanly bits having settled down for now, and the two of you catch your breath, only yelp when thick fingers find your clit, rubbing harshly and causing you to jolt forward. You turn and look at Toji, feeling dread well up when you catch the wicked look on his face. He pulls you in close for an awkward kiss over your shoulder and then reaches behind him with his free hand to adjust the cooling water.

“You didn’t think I was done, did you baby?” He rumbles and smirks against your mouth, “You’re wrong if you don’t think I’m not going to stuff you full.”

#reader insert #fanfic #fluff #jjk fic #jjk smut #toji fic #jjk toji #toji fushiguro #toji fushigro x reader #fushiguro toji #toji x reader #toji x you #toji x y/n #anime smut #period sex #period cramps #period fic #jujitsu kaisen

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