#One-Shot Event

[star-railfanboy]

One-shot Request event

Hello everyone

I will be starting a one-shot request event. Im running this event on my genshin Blog and wanted to run it on here too. For a bit they will be open for one-shots only meaning only one character per request feel free to send them in. I only write for Star Rail characters that have been released and no minor coded characters. As per my blog rules state I'll only writer for gender neutral and male readers. Send in the request via asks. Please follow my rules pinned at the top for this.

I hope you enjoy what comes from this event and that you have a lovely day or night. :)

[sweeterlovers]

DOWNTOWN GIRL / LANDO NORRIS

lando norris x downtown girl gf / SMAU FIC

FACE CLAIM / none!

WARNINGS / fluff!

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INSTAGRAM

liked by landonorris, carlossainz55, and 89,727 others

yourusername fall is starting 🍂☕️🍁🤍

view all comments

user2 fall it girl!

user3 the sweater looks so cozy!

user8 it’s a need!

yourusername guys i actually knitted it myself!!!!!!!!

user07 queen stuff!

user99 make me one queen!

user074 have you made lando a sweater yet?

yourusername i’m in the process! now carlos, oscar, and max want sweaters too 🤦🏼‍♀️

user43 looking pretty 😍

landonorris oh hello there 😏😏

yourusername please stop

landonorris never

yourusername @mclaren please take away his phone

mclaren on it!

landonorris what???????? i’m your driver?! dhwuwuwi

user12 mclaren is on y/n side 😭

user678 aren’t we all!

oscarpiastri @landonorris imagine your own team choosing your gf over you

landonorris I HOPE YOU GET EATEN BY A KANGAROO

oscarpiastri so violent

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INSTAGRAM

liked by landonorris, oscarpiastri, and 56,722 others

yourusername outfit for today! this literally ate so hard guys!!! don’t even

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user25 ICONIC

user59 this outfit is perfection

user00 FR!!!! it’s going on my pinterest

user9 the matching!!! on point

pinterest queen 👑

yourusername you know it 😏😏🤍

user367 we need a breakdown on the outfit!!!

yourusername ok!!! the necklace is from brandy melville, the blazer is thrifted, the top is from zara, the belt is thrifted, the skirt is brandy melville, the boots are from a store in texas and the bag is vintage louis vuitton!

user57 we love a thrifting queen!

user308 where are you thrifting????

yourusername mostly in new york honestly!

user67 the bag is to DIE for

landonorris 😍😍😍😍😍

user4499 lewis would be proud of the fit ❤️

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INSTAGRAM

liked by landonorris, oscarpiastri, and 276,837 others

yourusername we love a good style revamp

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user444 this moved me

user55 OK Y/N YOU ATE WITH THIS

user5689 i need the heart necklace

user08 THAT LAST PHOTO

user48 the muscles 🤤

yourusername i drooled on my screen…

yourusername WHAT WHO SAID THAT????????

user3 LMFAOO

user678 me too girl

user2 🫣🫣🫣🫣🫣🫣

landonorris i do look good

yourusername i’m not even going to tease you cause you look AMAZING

landonorris 😏😏

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INSTAGRAM

liked by yourusername, maxfewtrell, and 782,726 others

landonorris fall with my girl 🍂🍂

view all comments

user27 😍😍

user567 the ugg’s with the ribbons 🎀

user07 coquette!

user766 i need that jacket

user55 both of them!!!!

user677 the red leather jacket

user9 a need

user688 so lana del rey

yourusername my outfits ate

landonorris getting cocky there

user7 they look so in love

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SWEETERLOVERS - a cute fic!

[hayden-christensen]

OBI-WAN KENOBI (2022) Cinematography by Chung-Hoon Chung

@pscentral event 26: minimalism

[ceelibeans]

(Just attack.)

[maxtermind]

“your opinion of me won't change, right?” + lando (who kinda has a fuckboy reputation but fell for the reader)

“your opinion of me won't change, right?”

( event masterlist \ main masterlist \ drop a request ) ★:summary:: the one where a fuckboy gets turned into a loverboy? ★:feat:: lando norris x reader ★:genre:: hurt/comfort

the knock on your door comes around midnight when you're almost going to bed. you don’t expect anyone, especially not him.

for a second, you stand still, unsure of what to do with heart thudding. but the persistent rapping doesn’t stop, and despite the days of silence between you two, you already know who it is.

when you swing the door open, lando stumbles in, his shoulders slumped, eyes clouded with alcohol and something darker. his hair is a mess, damp from the rain, and he reeks of whiskey and regret.

“y/n,” he breathes out, almost as if he’s relieved to see you. but you’re not relieved at all. you’re angry, confused, and hurt and looking at him really hit you so hard that you had to squeeze the ends of your his t-shirt to not stumble.

you close the door behind him, and he sways unsteadily. he’s drunk—drunker than you’ve ever seen him. his clothes are disheveled, his usual cool confidence replaced by something pitiful, something raw.

"lando, what the hell are you doing here?" your voice is sharp, meant to sting, because his presence alone already rips at the wounds that haven't even started healing yet.

he doesn’t answer right away. instead, he looks at you with those familiar blue eyes, the same ones that once made you weak in the knees, but now… they just bring back the pain. his lips tremble as if he’s about to say something, but he doesn’t.

"you—" lando slurs slightly, stepping forward, hands outstretched. "you weren't… supposed to leave. you—" it washed over you like a bucket of cold water and you're already moving away from his touch.

"don't." your voice cracks, and you hate how fragile you sound. you take another step back, putting more space between you two. "don’t come here like this again."

lando rubs his face, pacing around your small living room slowly, stumbling over air. he’s spiraling, trying to collect his thoughts, but the alcohol muddles his brain and you can see the struggle on his face.

“i didn’t mean to… i didn’t want you to leave,” he mutters. he turns to you, desperation in his eyes. "i messed up, okay? i know that. but i… fuck, i’m trying, y/n."

you cross your arms, every muscle tense. "trying? you’re drunk, lando. that’s not trying."

his face crumples at your words, and he stumbles back, this time collapsing onto the couch like his legs can’t hold him up anymore. his hands run through his hair, pulling at it in frustration, in agony.

you vividly remember what happened a few nights ago when a girl texted him asking if he was up for 'another' great night. it wasn't easy being with someone while knowing he could have anyone in the entire world and with his past, you were already always on the edge of letting your insecurities out.

it just led to a bigger argument where instead of assuring you how you were the only one he ever wanted, he asked you to either start trusting him or leave.

so you left.

"do you know how much i fucking hate myself?" his voice is hoarse now, barely above a whisper, but the rawness in it cuts through you like a knife as it brings you back to the present. "i tried to be better for you. i… i tried."

you swallow the lump forming in your throat, trying to stay firm, but it’s hard. it's always been hard with him. "you have a funny way of showing it."

he lifts his head slowly, tears brimming in his eyes now, and the sight is enough to make your resolve crack just a little. you've never seen him cry before. not like this.

“your opinion of me won’t change, right?” his voice breaks, and you freeze. the vulnerability in his question sends a jolt of pain straight to your chest. he sounds small, defeated, like the weight of everything he’s been carrying has finally crushed him.

“lando…” you whisper, but he doesn’t let you finish.

"because everyone else—" he pauses, taking in a shaky breath. "they all think they know me? that i’m just some… some asshole who doesn’t care, who’s not capable of… anything real? but i’m not. i’m not, y/n. you know that, right?"

the room feels heavy, like the air is thickening with every word. you want to say something, to tell him that you believed in him once, that you saw the good in him, the real lando, but it’s not that simple anymore.

"i fell for you," he says, voice trembling, eyes glistening as he stares up at you like you're the only thing that can save him. with the rapid blinking of his eyes, tears start to fall and so does your resolve. "i wish i didn’t put you through this, but i did. and i didn’t know how to be that guy… the one you deserved. but i tried. i’m still trying."

it’s quiet for a moment, just the sound of his ragged breathing and your heartbeat pounding in your ears.

you look at him, really look at him. his face is flushed from the alcohol and the tears, but beneath that, you see something more. he’s broken in ways you never let yourself see before.

all the cockiness, the bravado, the charm—it was all just a shield. he never thought he was good enough for you either, and maybe that’s why you left. you repeat it to yourself but it was a losing war.

the old lando wouldn’t be here, in front of you, crying and baring his soul. he wouldn’t have admitted any of this. isn't that reason enough to give him another chance?

he was selfish before, reckless, hiding behind his reputation as the playboy, the fun guy who never cared too deeply about anything. but now, now you see the cracks. you see the vulnerability he’s tried so hard to bury and it kills you to give in but the words leave you before you can stop yourself.

"i thought you didn’t care," you admit softly, feeling all your defenses start to crumble. "that’s why i left, lando. i didn’t think you could care."

"i fucking love you," he lets out a bitter laugh, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand. not believing what you were saying at all. "i care too fucking much. i just… maybe i don’t know how to show it right."

you sigh, sitting down beside him on the couch, still keeping a little distance between you. "it’s not about showing it right. it’s about showing it at all."

he looks at you, his gaze softer now, more open. "i’m sorry. i know i’ve been… i know i fucked up. but i’m… i love you, y/n. i really fucking love you. and i didn’t know how much until you weren’t there."

his words hang in the air, and for the first time in weeks, you don’t feel anger or hurt. you just feel… sad. sad for him, sad for you, sad for all the misunderstandings that led you here.

you reach out, gently brushing a lock of his hair from his forehead. he closes his eyes at the touch, leaning into it like he’s starved for your touch. he probably is because so are you.

"i’ve changed," he murmurs, his voice thick with exhaustion. "i swear loving you has changed me."

you don’t respond right away. instead, you lean forward and press a soft, lingering kiss to his forehead. his skin is warm beneath your lips, and the simple gesture feels more intimate than anything you’ve ever shared before.

when you pull back, lando looks at you through heavy-lidded eyes, his emotions raw and exposed. "i love you too," he mumbles, his voice barely audible, like he’s falling asleep or slipping into a dream where things are better, where you’re together again.

you don’t know what’s going to happen next, or if you can really fix what’s broken between you. but for the first time in a long while, you feel like maybe… just maybe, you can try.

and maybe this time, it’ll be different.

©maxtermind // do not copy, rewrite or translate any of my work on any platforms.

★:a/n:: thanks for the request love! feedback and reblogs are appreciated :3

[f1amour]

🍮 with lando norris and this prompt from one of the fluffy concepts please! ‘i could just eat you up’

❝ i could just eat you up ❞ — lando norris

pairing | lando norris x reader

content warnings | grumpy reader, fluff, suggestive content

★ JOIN MY SHORT N SWEET FRIENDSGIVING !

─────────────────────────

“lando! we came to buy food we can actually survive off of not candy,” you groan as your boyfriend catches up with you at the fruit and vegetable aisle. you loved sweets just as much as lando did but he had the tendency to purchase food that was not apart of his diet or he’d buy all kinds of sauces only to not buy pasta to pair it with.

“come on baby, it’s chocolate! you love chocolate,” he smiles throwing the bag into the cart and you shake your head as you pack some fruits into a bag and in your cart. “i do love chocolate, lan. but we don’t need a five pound bag of it. what vegetables do you want?” you ask holding up some broccoli and asparagus.

lando grimaces, “neither. can we grab some cereal?” he wraps his arms around your waist as you push the cart. “lando, we really gotta finish this. your mom and dad are visiting this week we need edible food for them! we’ll get your cereal after, okay?” he nods and gives you a cheeky smile before following you around for the next twenty minutes is filled with comfortable silence as you grab everything you need. anything that you needed on the top shelf you couldn’t reach lando would grab it for you and in return you’d give him a kiss.

“now we get your cereal, go wild!” you chuckle getting to the cereal aisle and lando runs off to grab his go to cereal and then he grabs another throwing the boxes in the cart. “what’s this?” you point to the colorful box and he smiles at you, “it’s your favorite. you never buy it because it’s too sugary and i can’t eat it during my diet. so i grabbed it for you,” he looks at you waiting for a smile to pop on your face but nothing.

“ah come on, grumps. gimme a smile.” he poked your cheek and you giggle giving him exactly what he wanted. lando pulls you into a kiss, “atta girl. you are so perfect…i could just eat you up,” his hands pat your bum and you seat him away, “lan! we’re in public.” you blush trying to keep his hands away from you as you check out.

he swipes his card and packs the bags up, “alright, let’s get home so i could eat you…out”

“lando!”

[wttcsms]

౨ৎ ⋆｡˚ you know i'll take you there

ᝰ.ᐟ shinsuke isn't too happy after your little escape attempt, and he makes it known. (fem!reader)

word count 2.5k content contains mating press, creampie, yakuza au, yandere themes, dubcon, praise kink, pet names (good girl), depictions of violence (not towards reader) author's notes sorry for lack of context; this is meant to take place after this fic concept

Shinsuke Kita doesn’t flinch when he pulls the trigger on a gun. 

The recoil doesn’t even register for him; when you do something for so long, eventually, it just becomes second nature. Like the mechanical movements you do when you brush your teeth, or the way you can tie your sneakers without having to actually look at the laces — shooting someone in the head is a mundane thing for Kita, for his line of work. He does it so often, has practiced it ever since he was a young boy, that what he does after is muscle memory. He removes the handkerchief from his suit and wipes the tiny splatter of blood that ended up getting on his cheek. He folds the sullied handkerchief neatly, tucking it away in the inner pocket of his suit. He makes sure the safety on his gun is in place, and he nods for Aran to drag the dead body away. 

When Aran takes his leave, the still-warm corpse in tow, the only people left in the room are Kita and a very scared young man. 

One of these men will be leaving this room, and the other will be hoping for a death as swift and merciful as the flawless execution Kita just delivered. 

“I told you there would be consequences,” Kita doesn’t taunt his victims. He’s not the type to do so. Cold and calculated — his own gang considers him to be a robot, and for the longest time, Kita agreed with them. But that was then, and this is now. Now, Kita has a reason to drag out his torture. Now, Kita understands what it’s like to find his very reason for existing. His purpose isn’t to lead one of the biggest yakuza families in the underground criminal world of Japan. His purpose is to devote his very being to you, and vice versa. 

So imagine how heartbroken he felt when he caught you trying to escape from the farmhouse he built for the two of you. And this man, a low-level runt in his group, had been foolish enough to give in and help you. 

“Please, sir, I wanted no part in the escape! She begged me, she—”

“She’ll receive her own punishment. I value fairness, after all.” Kita interrupts him, sounding as cold as the blood running through the young man’s veins. He’s frozen in fear as he tries to stammer out more excuses, more explanations, more promises to do better in the future but—

—there really isn’t much of a future for him. Not one that he’ll be happy to live in, at least. Kita is fair; having you slip away would have killed him internally. So now, Kita has to kill this man internally. Crush his spirit. Make him dream of death, dangle death in front of his face like a treat to a dog, but never, ever allow him such a kindness. 

(Kita is a fair leader, but very rarely is he kind. 

Kindness will get you killed. 

The boy dumb enough to help you — he’s kind.)

Kita retrieves a knife from one of the inconspicuous cabinets in this room. The fluorescent light hanging from the ceiling casts a warm glow over the both of them, but the blade of the knife reflects back the light, makes it shine in the poor boy’s face. He flinches. 

“Do you remember?” Kita asks him, turning the knife as if to inspect it from every angle. 

“Wh-what?” He stutters out, sounding breathless. He might be on the verge of a panic attack. That’ll make things messier than they need to be. 

“Do you remember what hand you used when you held hers?” Kita clarifies. He sounds calm, but the sight of another man holding your hand had him seething. Even now, it takes everything in him to not plunge the knife right into this young man’s heart, to twist the blade ‘round his insides, make him hurt like how Kita hurt when he witnessed it. 

“It was your left hand.” Kita answers for him. “Fortunately, you’re right-handed. Surely it won’t be too much of an inconvenience for you after I’m done sawing it off.” 

Kita’s chopped off a few fingers and one hand before, but never has he attempted to do it with a medium sized knife. A knife with a purposely dull blade. 

He smiles faintly. Sometimes, it can be fun to break routine and try new things.

You’re in bed by the time Kita returns home. He’s back later than he expects; it turns out, his little experiment with the dull blade is very, very messy. Maybe with practice, he’ll perfect that, too. That boy still has another hand to spare, after all. 

Feeling satisfied with himself, Kita starts humming gently as he makes his way to your shared bedroom. Before you, Kita never bothered making unnecessary noise. He rarely listened to music, but now—

The sting of your betrayal has lessened considerably. Kita isn’t even upset with you anymore. It’s normal for couples to fight and want to storm out on each other, but what matters most is that at the end of the day, he’s coming home to find you warming his bed. 

In his line of work, simple pleasures aren’t usually so sweet. 

You don’t stir when he joins you in bed, the mattress dipping just the slightest bit due to the sudden shift in weight, but he makes his presence hard to ignore, even in your slumber, when he presses his chest against your back, his lips nipping gently on the soft skin of your ears. 

You whine, your eyesight blurry as your eyes flutter open, trying to adjust to the darkness of the room. You’re instantly aware of Kita’s body covering your own, and when he feels the subtle shivers of your body, the both of you know it’s not because of the chill of the air conditioner.

He makes a tiny grunt of disapproval. Even after all this time, you’re scared of him? Silly girl — he’d never do anything to hurt you. 

Well, nothing that would hurt you too badly. 

“Did ya have a good dream?” He asks you, breath warm against your ear. 

You swallow hard, not brave enough to shift your body. Ever since the truth came out, the fact that sweet Shinsuke is more than just an average overworked businessman but is a yakuza crime boss, things have never been the same between you two. Kita is nothing if not persistent, though. He still cuddles up against you, he still whispers sweet nothings in your ear, he’s still affectionate and downright loving in every action he does towards you. 

He knows not to expect an answer from you, especially when he plays with the bottom hem of your silk nightgown. “Wish ya would tell me what goes on in that pretty little head of yours.” 

You can picture him frowning; as perceptive as he is, you know that he prefers hearing your thoughts directly from you. 

“What happened to Goto?” You dare to ask, and the air seems to shift in your bedroom. 

Kita is gripping the soft flesh of your thighs, his hand large and imposing, rough with calluses and forever red with blood. You never really learn, you suppose, about how there’s a time and place for such questions. 

“Goto received his punishment.” Kita answers calmly, voice steady but cold. “And I nearly forgot about yours.” 

Liar. You want to call him out, but you at least have enough self-preservation to bite your tongue. As if Kita would ever forget. It hasn’t even been a full twenty-four hours since your little escape attempt. 

Kita adores you, loves you, because in a world of greedy, nasty, spiteful little creatures, you are kind and caring and full of the sugary sweet goodness he’s always going to have a taste for. It’s why he’s not surprised when you ask him, 

���Is he… alive?” 

He lets out a short, sharp laugh. “Is that what you’re really worried about? Goto, over the broken heart of your husband?” 

When you don’t answer, Kita tightens his grip on your thigh, contemplating his next move, before he lets his hand travel to the apex of your thighs, his knuckles brushing against your bare cunt. He’s pleased to find out that you’re still his obedient, sweet girl, following his direct order of going to bed without a bra or panties. Some nights, he’s so tired, any excess fabric is a hindrance. 

“If you have a heart, you’ll tell me what happened to him.” You mumble, trying to ignore the way your body craves for Kita’s touch. Before the truth of his second life came out, you were an addict for him. No one has ever touched him the way he’s touched you, and even now, when you want to ignore him and try to remind yourself of what an awful person he truly is, you can’t.

There’s a traitorous part of your heart and soul that still longs for Kita, no matter the truth.

“It’s because I have a heart that I didn’t kill him.” Kita isn’t lying. The torture was for his pleasure, sure, but he knows how upset and inconsolable you would be if you felt like you were responsible for Goto’s death. The register of his voice lowers as he speaks again, though. His warning leaves you frozen in fear.

“If his filthy hands ever touch you again, I’ll kill him.” 

There are a litany of reasons why you find yourself in the position you’re currently in: wanting, waiting, whining for Kita. Fear, for one thing. You feel compelled to do whatever he wants, considering the sheer difference in strength and power between the two of you. But try as you might, it’s hard to ignore the tiny, nagging voice in your head that lulls you into a state of docile desire. Kita’s always taken care of you, right? You were in love with him, for fuck’s sake. And as you ride his fingers, content to wrap your warm, wet heat around three of his digits as he chuckles at your wanton display, that nagging voice reminds you that you still do — love him, that is. 

Three fingers buried deeply in the warmth of your cunt is enough to make you forget about the events leading up to tonight. He withdraws his fingers, much to your displeasure, and you whine out for him to continue with his ministrations before he shuts you up by forcing you to suck his thumb. You can feel the rough skin of his finger on your tongue, and you hollow your cheeks, treating this situation as if you were about to suck his cock, and your tongue laps at the pad of his thumb before he removes it from your mouth. 

Without any preamble, he’s back to burying his fingers into your pussy, his thumb — wet with your saliva — pressed firmly against your clit. 

“Do you wish it was my cock filin’ you up?” He grunts out, rubbing mercilessly against your clit as you continue to writhe against the bedsheets. Your cheeks feel warm, blood rushing up to your chest and face, and you bite down on your bottom lip, knowing your answer. A shameless, pitiful yes. 

“You’re so beautiful, so sweet, so kind.” In his world, kindness gets you killed. Kita’s no different from any other man in his line of work, and it’s why he’s ravaging you right now. Pumping his fingers in and out of your slick hole, making a mess of his fingers, of your pussy, of the bedsheets, of you. It’s why every time he brings you to your climax, you cum violently. You’re letting out a string of stuttered, fractured fucks mixed in with sharp intakes of breath and Shinsuke’s, and you buck your hips wildly against his fingers, pushing his digits even further in as you cum. 

With your mind hazy from pleasure, your brain scrambled from sleepiness and an intense orgasm, Kita wastes no time pouncing on you. There’s no chance for you to beg for him to wait, and you register that this must be your punishment.

Shinsuke is going to fuck you without any of his normal restraint.

He slides in your sopping wet cunt in one sharp thrust, burying his thick cock deep into your warm, snug hole. He likes having a routine, he likes having set boundaries and rules, he likes being a man of practicality. But right now, he’s fucking you like a wild beast. All you can do is just take it; take his relentless thrusts, his anger, his need to dominate you, to remind you who you belong to. 

“Open up.” He demands, his voice rough and thick with desire. You comply; it’s so easy, considering that you haven’t been able to hold back a single moan as he has his way with you. He spits directly into your mouth, watching the way his saliva sits on the surface of your pink tongue. He doesn’t need to command you to swallow, because you do, savoring the taste of him.

He makes you look him in the eyes as he fucks into you relentlessly. One hand is gripping your hip, practically crushing you as he pounds into your pussy. You’re so fucking wet that the sounds of him moving in and out of your cunt are so lewd, so loud. The inescapable burn of pain and pleasure, the sensitivity of your cunt having to endure his insatiable lust, has you moaning like a bitch in heat. 

“Shin— Shinsuke! G-gonna cum!” You squeak out, and it only motivates Kita to double down. He holds up your legs, your limbs burning from the stretch as he continues to get rougher with his movements. You’re looking at him with a dazed, fucked out expression, and he has the audacity to let out a chuckle. 

“There’s my good girl.” He praises you, spitting into your open mouth once more. 

With your legs trembling and the foggy haze of pleasure clouding your head, you greedily, happily accept his praise. Your legs press tightly against his sides, and with his spit in your mouth and his cock drilling into you with even sharper movements than before, you cum. 

Kita lets out a grunt of approval as he finishes inside of you, a load of hot seed pouring deep inside of you as he keeps your legs folded, his hips pressed against yours, as if he wants to plug you up with his cum. He kisses your forehead that’s glistening with sweat from the heat of his body colliding with yours; it seems the two orgasms he wrung out of you have taken its toll on your body. You’re a pliant, fucked out little mess — his pliant, fucked out little mess. 

“Good girl.” He murmurs sweetly. “I love you so much.” 

He doesn’t wait for you to say it back. He just pulls out his cock a bit before thrusting back into you. This action causes you to let out another long, drawn out moan. He’s absolutely relentless, and as tired as you are, you realize that you don’t want him to stop.

(Pity that you’re not capable of speech at the moment.

Because you would have told him that you love him, too.)

[erandraws]

I know a 3 for 3 for Laura is great but I think a Dorym silken squall wedding one-shot would eat so incredibly hard

Also, tomorrow marks my one year anniversary of starting Critical Role. This show literally changed my life. I’m so grateful that I get to watch these friends play this game every week, even if I have to wake up at 4 am for it (yes I’m coming out as European I literally willingly wake up every friday at 4 am to watch the new episodes live even though I have Beacon). But anyway enough sappy stuff. This piece (which is my greatest piece ever, let’s be honest) includes a lot of cute details which I will highlight under the cut!

First, these are Dorian and Orym’s full outfits that I had pre-drawn so it would make the process much easier. I did swap out some little things.

Now for the final piece:

- Dorian’s wedding ring includes an emerald (obv bc Orym’s color is green. And it has leaves wrapped around to symbolize Orym’s ties to nature. I did use a lovely reference for this ring from pinterest. Even though Orym’s wedding ring doesn’t show here, I would like to think it has a blue sapphire surrounded by swirly wind designs to symbolize Dorian’s air genasi heritage.

- The embroidery on Dorian’s vest references the day and night cycle, with the sun being highest and the moon being lower. (Also I fucking ate these pearls, they’re stunning)

- Even though Orym’s beautiful tattoo is covered, I still referenced it by ‘carving’ it into his shoulder pauldron. Big moon, little moon.

- Two clothing details on Orym: another Will reference, Orym wears Will’s sash.

- The silken squall wings which are a reference to Dorian’s first outfit.

- And finally, Dorian wears a bunch of flowers in his hair. They’re all white with the exception of a single blue flower. This is in reference to the blue flower Orym druid crafted into Dorian’s hair in one of the very first episodes of the campaign to help Dorian’s performance check. It’s one of their very first cutesy moments, so I thought it was a lovely little detail to include.

[prettyfilmz]

WORDS OF AFFIRMATION • JEY USO

authors note: hello my darlings! I’ve recently been working on a new mini project called “love language” which includes 5 writing pieces written based on the 5 love languages featuring my fav wrestlers. this piece is the first of the series which I am super excited to share with you all. I hope you enjoy and let me know if you would like to be tagged in the next part♥️

summary: jey found a creative way to help remind you how beautiful you are.

warnings: 18+ (y’all go watch baby einstein or something this is for grown folks 🧍🏾‍♀️) porn w/out plot, dom!jey uso x sub! fem reader, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it!) missionary position, praise, daddy kink, slight orgasm denial, small aftercare moment.

word count: 718 words

“come on mama…say it for me.”

jey growled in your ear, his voice low and rough sending shivers down your spine. if you weren’t so intoxicated off the delicious feeling of his dick relentlessly stroking against your g spot, you’d protest how unfair he was being. 

your legs clung tighter to his waist, nails digging into intricate ink on the sweat slick skin of his back as his thrusts grew deeper, each one pulling a soft moan from his lips which vibrated against your neck.“baby…I’ll stop right now if you don’t say it,” he whispered in your ear, a threat laced with a dark promise you knew he didn’t want to keep. the way your pussy clenched around him, warm slick and needy, made it clear you weren’t going to last long along with himself, but he needed to hear those words.

you hesitated, torn between pride and the aching need that jey could only satisfy. but as the peak of your orgasm began to slip, his rhythm coming to a torturing halt, lust and desperation won the round. ”I’m..I’m beautiful.” your voice so soft and needy it barely rose above both your mingled breaths…but he heard it. those words were a lifeline, pulling you both back into the intoxicating rhythm that had your eyes rolls to the back of your head.

jey’s lips curl into a satisfied smirk at your whispered confession hung in the air, the heat between the both of you simmering to a boil. “damn right, that’s my girl,” he murmured, his voice laced with praise, and the way he gazed up you with his brown eyes made your heart race faster and your pussy even wetter. 

his hips snapped back into motion, thrusting into you with renewed intensity, each stroke pulling a choked cry out of you. “fuck…feel so fucking good daddy..” you sobbed, your hands gripped him tighter, nails creating crescent indents on his back, eliciting a low moan from him that almost made you cum on the spot.

jey leans down, his mouth trailing hot, sloppy, open-mouthed kisses along your jaw, nipping at your earlobe before saying, “you gon’ be my good girl?” spank! a heavy hand comes in contact with your ass, making you yelp. the stinging sensation sending a wave of arousal to your core. “y-yes!” you plea with tears streaming down your cheeks, squirming when his other hand slides between your legs to play with your engorged clit. 

“you gon’ cum on this dick for daddy?” spank!

“yes daddy imma cum for you.”

jey let out a deep, satisfied groan as he rewarded you with a harder, faster pace. his body slammed into yours with a force that had your breath hitching and your vision blurring. he was getting relentless, each powerful thrust sent shockwaves of pleasure through your nervous system, and you knew you wouldn’t last much longer.

“mhm you so damn beautiful,” he growled. “and mine.” his possessiveness was enough to send you over the edge, and with a final cry of his name, you came. white-hot pleasure flooding your psyche as you convulsed and gushed around him.  

he wasn’t too far behind, the vice grip your pussy had on his dick pushed him to his limit. with a few sloppy thrusts, he buried himself deep inside you, filling you up with thick white ropes of his cum. his body shuddered with the force of his orgasm as he groaned your name. 

for a moment, the world was still. only the sounds of ragged breathes of you both who had just given everything to each other. then, slowly, jey pulled out of you, momentarily watching his cum leak out of your swollen mound before resting his sweaty forehead against your own. as he caught his breath, a lazy but satisfied grin spread across his face mirroring yours. 

“you were so good for me, mama.” he praised, kissing the hickies he left on your collarbone. his voice was rid of any roughness and was replaced with a softness that could lull you to sleep. “always so good for me.”

all you could do is sigh in appreciation, body still trembling from the aftershocks of your orgasm. in that moment, all of your insecurities from earlier were washed away and was replaced with a newfound contentment and confidence. 

[arjwrites]

crawl home to her- dean winchester x fem!reader

summary: heaven or hell, dean will always crawl home to you.

warnings: brief mentions of hell, references to drinking, fem!reader

word count: 1.4k

a/n: i got a bit carried away with this one and it ended up a little longer than anticipated hehehe i had too many ideas. this song is so sickening and is so dean-coded in the very best way. i hope you enjoy <3

arj's 100 follower event

xxx

Dean awoke in a permeating blackness, blinking his eyes, unable to tell at what point they were open or closed. His first instinct? To draw in a deep, sharp breath. His lungs resisted him, hesitant to stretch and swell as if they had been sitting stagnant for months. They offered him no help in forming words, a call for help. It took him a minute to gather his bearings, but the next thought that came to his mind? You. And from that moment, his body took over. As he kicked his way out of the pine box and clawed his way through the cold and heavy earth, he felt almost animalistic. He didn’t know where he was, he hardly knew who he was, but he knew he had to crawl home to you. Wherever you were. 

As Dean emerged from the ground, he gasped for air- clean, fresh air. It swirled around inside of him, exacerbating the emptiness of the cavern of his chest. He grappled with the earth around him, arms reaching out in a desperate fervor to pull him safely from the grave. There were sensations everywhere, almost screaming at him, so loud and foreign as if he hadn’t experienced them in… he didn’t know how long. The tickling of the damp grass against his arms, the hot sun beating down on his back, the heavy breeze settling behind him. It was you, he thought. It had to be your way of welcoming him back earthside- planting soft green kisses to his skin, wrapping him in healing warmth and light, and lifting him up to carry him home with the wind. He let his body push him to his feet, feeling every flex and release of his muscles individually, excruciatingly. 

 It was agonizing for Dean to will one foot in front of the other, trudging aimlessly in search of civilization. Maybe it was the exhaustion, or maybe it was the hunger, but he could see you right there next to him, clear as day, coaching him through each step of his journey. You floated along next to him like an angel, filling his emptiness and setting direction in his footsteps. 

He thought back to the day your paths had been undoubtedly intertwined forever. You and Dean had known of each other for a while- hunters always did- but never exchanged more than a few cordial hellos in passing. That was until a vampire hunt in a small town drew the attention of more than just himself and Sam. When you showed up on the hunt, he couldn’t help but be enamored by you. The way you made hunting, something so dark and painful, into something so graceful, so elegant, so beautiful. 

When he was able to convince you to stick around and celebrate after finishing the hunt, Dean felt both his heart leap and his stomach sink. As he drove, he kept glancing up into his rearview mirror to catch a glimpse at you, following behind him in your own car. He wracked his brain, trying to come up with conversation topics like he was rubbing together stones trying to create a spark. He was so excited to have you around, yet so nervous- an accusation he defended against when Sam taunted him on the ride over to the bar. 

“I don’t get nervous, Sammy. I- I don’t know, man. There’s just something about her. Can’t put my finger on it.” 

His eyes flickered back up to the rearview mirror as he spoke, catching you singing along to whatever song you were listening to. His heart fluttered- he wanted to know you, to memorize your favorite songs, to hear his inner thoughts spoken in your voice. In the here and now, where he was trekking through the woods, he smiled at the memory and let it instill in him a surge of motivation. He picked up his pace, humming your favorite song as he went, half to keep him grounded in the moment and half to help his mind wander back to you. 

Still thinking back to that first day, he remembered getting to the bar and admittedly, letting his nerves get the best of him. He threw back shots and tipped back beers in the hopes of quelling his anxieties, suppressing the parts of him that weren’t useful and drawing out his confident, personable self. Sam had left early, as usual, leaving the two of you alone, sat at a table in the corner of a crowded bar. The surface was a graveyard littered with empty bottles and glasses, very few of which belonged to you. You had been nursing your drinks, sipping slowly as Dean downed and gulped. So when he got a little out of hand, you were there to carry him home. 

When Dean woke alone the next morning, he was sure you had been a dream- too perfect to be real life, or his real life, anyway. His head pounded as he glanced around the unfamiliar motel room, noticing the single bed and feminine belongings that clued him he wasn’t in the room he had rented with Sam. He sat up, grasping at his head, trying to piece together where exactly he was. There was no way he had gone home with you. He remembered the way he had acted the night before, and how sober you had still been. You must have dumped him with a random girl to take him off your hands. His heart sank to his stomach- if he had messed up his chances with you, he wouldn’t forgive himself. 

Before he could linger in this fear for long, he heard two separate laughs nearing the front door. When it swung open to reveal you and Sam, chatting and clutching coffees and paper bags of breakfast food, Dean let himself flop back down to the bed in relief. Wishing him a good morning, you tossed him pain relievers and a water bottle, setting a coffee and a breakfast sandwich down on his- no, your- bedside table. You briefly recounted the night before for him, noting how you had brought him back here when Sam didn’t answer his phone. You didn’t dwell on his actions, didn’t poke fun, didn’t complain or criticize. Your presence was light as a feather, your body and voice floating around the room as you tidied things up or nibbled at your breakfast. Sam shot him a knowing glance that would later be supplemented with verbal approval. I like her, Dean. Don’t mess this up. 

Back in reality, Dean had finally emerged from the woods, stepping from the dense tree cover onto a dusty road. There wasn’t much to see- no buildings or signs of civilization in any direction. The breeze picked up and whistled through his ears in the form of your voice- keep going, Dean. So on he went. 

As he walked, sometimes his image of you would flicker and fade like a ghost and his thoughts would plunge back down to Hell. There were a few moments along his path where he would pause to hinge at the hips and dry heave in a desperate attempt to purge the memories from his body alongside the dust in his throat. It made him sick, what he did in Hell. At a few points, when he got too caught up in his thoughts, he’d come to a full stop. In those moments, he didn’t care if he lived or died. His heart ached for you, but he didn’t deserve you anymore. You were the only pure goodness in the world that he had ever known, and now, he was tainted beyond repair. But then would come the breeze. This time, it smelled sweet- miraculously, as there was nothing but dirt road and baking heat to scent it. It was beckoning him, calling him home. It was washing him of his sins. You didn’t care, you never would. Always kind, always forgiving. That was his baby. Sweet as can be.  The journey ended in your arms. At times, he thought it never would. He thought he was trapped, imprisoned on a long dirt path, being taunted with the promise of you like a carrot on a stick. But he found a car, found a map, found his way home. You didn’t believe it was him at first- why would you, when a long list of monsters seemed so much more plausible? But if Dean’s first act of repentance had been his passage home, his second act was proving himself to you. That it was him, here and now, real and resting in your fingertips. All Dean knew was Hell. It was real, he had lived it. But when you reached out your arms to embrace him, Hell was just a word that dissipated into space the moment it left his lips. This must be Heaven. You must be heaven.

[mysunshinetemptress]

Patience

Alexia putellas x equestrian!reader

Warnings:rushed shitty writing, not proofread

“Vamos!” You shout arms outstretched above your head in relief and excitement as you watch the Spanish girls dance around the pitch hugging one another and thanking their Japanese opponents, your mamí wraps her arms around you tightly pulling you into a hug “Oh, Potro, eso fue increíble” You let out a small laugh hugging her tighter “Conozco a Mamí y esto es solo el principio, VAMOS ESPAÑA”

You smile watching the team happily talk to each other about the match that has just taken place before deciding to call it a night, you had one final training session before you would have to take part in the first round of the eventing on the 27th.

Your least favourite event was dressage, you hated how meticulous it was how precise, everything had to be on point, one wrong stride and you would be falling down the table, the bid for a medal slipping further away. But dressage was like a dance, a dance where your dance partner is your horse Once fuertes, you lead and he follows in time to the music.

When it’s over and you see your name sitting in first place and you don’t seem to dislike it as much, you are happy with your dance partner, with the precision of his hooves through the sand his strides perfect, of course it is you who cause the fault only a slight one but still you have raked up 16.00 penalty points.

1.5 penalty points less than your closest opponent but it’s not enough.

“Lo siento, mamá, debería haber sido mejor” you fall into your mothers arms “Potro, it was perfect, parada being so hard on yourself, tienes razón donde necesitas ser un potro, llegarás allí, solo espera.” All you can do is let out a grunt as you push off her and turn to follow your grooming team.

You don’t get a day to relax, to process your recent accomplishments instead your sitting on Once fuertes in a forest in Versailles getting ready to take part in the cross country trail for both Spain and yourself just like yesterday.

Only today is not a dance, today is a race against a nine point two minute clock and twenty eight fences/obstacles in the way. Once fuertes is big at 17.5 hands these obstacles will be nothing for him the time trial a minuscule thought for such a long strided horse like him, but it’s up to you to get him there.

You do so perfectly, you trust in him to leap over every obstacle and land ready to race towards the next and he does it without hesitation yet you don’t stop talking to him pushing him forward edging him to go faster to jump higher and it pays off. You hold your lead. You’re still number one, still in position for gold. Your first gold.

Your happier this time around, your mother can tell just from the way your hunched over Once talking to him happily “ Oh, mi chico, eres increíble, eres perfecto, podríamos hacer esto, yo y tú, once, yo y podrías ganarlo todo, oh, ese es mi sueño para ti y para mí.” Your mother pats Once happily “Bien hecho once, gracias por cuidar de mi potro” you beam down at your mother before swinging your leg over and jumping down from the thoroughbred laughing happily as your mamí pulls you in for another bone crushing hug “Dios mío, mamá I think we might actually have a chance, we might actually place on the podium me and Spain, me and Once.” Tears spring to your mothers eyes, happy tears at your growing excitement, at your accomplishments so far “I don’t think you’ll just place Potro, you will win it all, you and España and Once, you will win the gold.” You shake your head not wanting to get your hopes up just yet “Paciencia, es todo lo que tengo en este deporte.” Your mother squeezed your arms before letting you stand back as you got ready to follow your groomers again “you sound just like your Papá.”

It’s not over, far from it, you still have the eventing show jumping tomorrow, the team final and the individual qualifiers but tonight you can relax, tonight you get to watch La Rojas face off against Nigeria, tonight you get to focus back on a different race for a podium and your happy to get to switch off even just for an hour.

You sit happily in the Olympic village with your team around a table as you watch the girls battle it out, fighting for a point that never seems to come. “Uhh, no van a anotar, quiero decir, vamos, quedan diez minutos.” Your teammate Carlos shakes his head, you simply smile and shake your head “Paciencia Carlos, they will strike when they are good and ready. She will strike when she is good and ready.” The team laugh at your faith in the Spanish girls, your faith in your favourite player La Reina herself, but it is you who is laughing five minutes later when Alexia scores the only goal of the match “Mira, te lo dije, when she is good and ready.”

You look out at the castle the next morning getting ready to walk the course with your teammates insuring you know your route, your strides, when to push Once on more with your leg and when to let off, to losen the reins, this is it, you could win your first gold medal today with Spain, your first gold medal as an individual, you just have to be patient.

You must qualify in the top twenty five to reach the individual qualifiers, you must be in the top twenty five to win, you have to jump a clear round all while staying within the eighty second time period. Once has to stay calm, so you have to stay calm, Once must keep his strides precise, he can’t over stretch, he might knock a pole if he does, he might knock more than one and the penalties you have been working so hard to keep down could wrack up suddenly, but again your against the clock a time trial, you have to do this fast, he has to do this fast, you both have to do this fast and clean together, it’s the only way you will keep your spot.

And you do. You jump last for Spain, you jump clear for Spain, for your self, to qualify for the individual medal, not a single pole rocked within the cups and you stayed five seconds under the time limit, for Spain, for you and Once, you were perfect, he was perfect, now it’s a waiting game as the last five jumpers get ready to try and knock Spain off the gold position.

None of your other teammates scores are as perfect as yours but they aren’t the worst, not even middle, they are comfortably in the top twenty and so you stand in the stands to watch the final rider with bated breath.

Great Britain sit second, France sit third and with Tom McEwans for Great Britain four faults in his round he seals the deal on all three podium spots, you have done it, you’ve won a gold medal, Spain have won a gold medal, Once has won you both a gold medal and now you have to refocus to win your individual one.

Your jumping last out of the twenty five riders, you sit in first and you can’t do anything except watch how the riders ahead of you take this new course, their turns, their leg sheathed it’s on or off, how their horses react, you watch the screen as the names move up and down below the top four, the top four, four faults sit between you all, four faults is all it will take for you to drop off the podium altogether, for this to be all for nothing and as your time comes closer it seems to be the only thing swimming around your head.

But it clears, it clears as you swing your leg over Once and as your mamí squeezes your leg before turning to the thoroughbred “Enciérdala por mí, cuida a mi pequeño potro.”

Sixty seconds till your gold medal, sixty seconds till you hold a gold medal, till you and Once become Olympic champions sixty seconds and a clear round.

You don’t remember the course, you don’t remember starting the course, but the roar as Once touches the ground on the far side of the final fence, clear, two seconds under the time giving, clear, clear, he jumped clear, you jumped clear both of you together jumped clear, your an Olympic champion, Once is an Olympic champion, Spain are Olympic champions and all you can do is look towards the sky and shout.

You arrive back to the village beaming, two gold medals around your neck, a team and an individual, you won’t have time to celebrate it, not yet, the games aren’t over but for now you beam and let out quite thanks you’d as athletes pass you in the village congratulating you as they pass.

You freeze as a certain athlete stands in front of you “Guau, hace tres días y ya tienes dos medallas de oro, debes ser bueno.” Your frozen unable speak, unable to think, unable to breath. She’s gorgeous, she’s breathtaking and she’s standing right in front of you. “No, No not really.” She smiles holding out her hand to you “I’m Alexia.” You look at her hand before taking it gently, scared your hand might pass through hers “I-I am Y/n.” Alexia beams happily holding your hand for far longer than she expected but she thinks you’re gorgeous, that you’re breathtaking and so she doesn’t mind “I was going to get a go coffee, would you like to join me.” You nod before finding your words “Sí, me encantaría.”

You let out a laugh as Alexia tells you of her younger sister Alba stating that the only role she wanted in the Olympics was that of a WAG or singing in the opening ceremony.

You sit happily listening to her talk about her family, talks about them like you have known her and them forever, you want to ask about her father but decide that if she isn’t happy mentioning him to you, a complete stranger she met mere hours ago then you weren’t going to ask.

“I am here for Fútbol.” You nodded “Sí, I-I am a fan.” Alexia doesn’t react like you thought she would, her smile seems to grow “a fan, of Spain?, of Barcelona?, of me?.” You laugh “De todos ustedes, de España, de Barcelona de ustedes, la Reina- I have been in love with fútbol my entire life, I have been a culers my entire life, and I have been a fan of you since you started playing.” Alexia lets out a sigh, a content sigh. “That is good, because I don’t think I could give my phone number to a Real Madrid supporter.” You laugh again this time sliding your phone over to the older girl.

Alexia watch’s you as she types in her number, adding emojis to her name. “So you never told me what sport you’re so great at that you won both of your medals for.” You blush as the conversation turns to you, you were quite content listening to Alexia talk and now she had switched to you. “Ecuestre, this one is from the team eventing so Yo y otros tres ciclistas ganamos este.” You hold out your team gold medal for Alexia to inspect “Y entonces this one is my individual medal, but really I couldn’t have done it without Once.” You hold out your individual medal as Alexia’s eyebrows raise “what is your horses name.” You smile “Once fuertes” Alexia nods approving “eleven is a strong number alright.” You let out a giggle taking back your medals “so what does Once get.” You go to take your phone out to show her pictures of the thoroughbred “he gets a rosette, and carrots, lots of carrots.” Alexia let’s out a small oh “well that’s not fair.” You pause as you go to hand over your phone “what do you mean.” Alexia shrugs “well your job is easy, the horse does all the work, so shouldn’t he get a better prize.” You feel your face heat up and turn bright red from embarrassment, as you smile sheepishly putting your phone back in your pocket, you push your chair to get up from the table and Alexia can tell she’s said the wrong thing “Y/n.” You ignore her as you stand “Good luck for the rest of the games.” You leave immediately as Alexia shakes her head “Joder.”

Alexia tried texting you but your not answering and so she decides to see if you have any social media, with a quick google of your name Alexia feels her guilt increase ten fold “Y/n Ferré Balagueró dedicates her Olympic wins to her father.” “MIERDA”

[sweeterlovers]

STARS HOLLOW / CARLOS SAINZ

carlos sainz x small town reader / SMAU FIC

SUMMARY / carlos and his autumn obsessed girlfriend

FACE CLAIM / none

WARNINGS / carlos being clueless about fall and google translated spanish!

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INSTAGRAM

liked by carlossainz55, landonorris, and 166,376 others

yourusername waiting for carlos to arrive but on a happy note fall is starting!!!!!!

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user3 wait why is carlos coming??

user4 maybe to visit her family?!

user22 i mean they have time considering that austin is in like 3 weeks

user8 trueeee

yourusername carlos is coming and i’m going to show him the small town fall experience!!!

user562 aww! that’s adorable

user0 i love that!

yourusername yeah! i’m so excited to show him what a small town fall is like!

user4 carlos is going to experience a gilmore girls fall 🥹

user2 🤍🤍🤍🤍

carlossainz55 mi amore acabo de aterrizar [ my love i just landed ]

yourusername well i’m very inpatient ☹️☹️☹️☹️

user7 this is too cute!

user63 the leaves 🍁 🍂

user23 that coffee looks sooo goooood!

user1 it’s so aesthetically pleasing!

user902 very rory gilmore!

user9 i love the sweaters!!!

user2 i love the heart sweater!

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carlossainz55 posted on their story!

liked by yourusername and 34,711 others

[ apparently i was asking to many questions so she put on her headphones…. ]

view all story replies

landonorris 😂🤣

carlossainz55 you’re a muppet

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yourusername showing carlos around my favorite park and of course we had to get coffee!

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user1 the view 🤩🤩

user35 luke’s diner?

yourusername i wish 🤞

user8 girl you basically grew up in stars hallow

user67 she’s basically rory gilmore

user9 before she went to shit tho

user00 the coffee looks great

user7 i’m craving coffee now

carlossainz55 you had three cups of coffee

yourusername and?

carlossainz55 your going to have an energy high and crash out

yourusername ✋✋✋✋

user23 it’s the gilmore in her!

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carlossainz55 enjoying my break between races with my girlfriend in her home town 🤍

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yourusername aww carlos!!! i had a great time showing your around 🤍🤍🤍

carlossainz55 i had a great time my love!!

user2 stop this is so cute

user4 i know!!! literal couple goals

carlossainzoficial ❤️❤️❤️

user23 i love them!!!!

anasainzvdec ustedes son adorables!!! [ you guys are adorable ]

yourusername te amo ana 🫶🏻🫶🏻 [ love you ]

carlossainz55 gracias hermana [ thank you sister ]

user24 y/n is so cute!!!

reyesvdec 🥰🥰🥰🥰

user578 this post is so fall vibes

user2 carlos got to experience his first in a small town during the fall

blancasainzv muy linda [ very cute ]

carlossainz55 🤍

yourusername love youuuu

user27 this post is so cozy yk?

user29 i understand what your saying!!!!

user9 i hate living in a tropical place 😞😞😞

user78 SAME!!!!! i’ll never get to experience this

user56 hope you guys had a fun time!!!!!

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SWEETERLOVERS - second fall fic!!! (it’s kinda rushed)

[lives-in-midgard]

My Home

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

Summary: After a mission Bucky and you have to stay at a hotel for the night. But when you wake up the next day you're snowed in and maybe can't make it home in time for Christmas.

Word Count: 850

Prompts: snowed in + “Home is not a place, at least not for me. You’re my home.”

From @buck-star Fluffy Winter Event

A/N: I wish all of you a Merry Christmas and happy holidays! I hope you like this 💗 🎄

Divider made by @ buck-star

Fluffy Winter Masterlist | Main Masterlist

It was late at night when you and Bucky were trying to find a hotel. You finished your mission a few hours ago and then went back to the safe house to pick up your stuff and were now walking through the streets of Budapest. As you walked through the streets, holding Bucky’s hand in one hand and your bag in the other, looking at the beautiful Christmas decorations and lights, you began to shiver. Bucky noticed and let go of your hand to take off his jacket. Then he smiled at you before he said.

“Here, take my jacket, doll. I don’t want you to get sick.”

“But then you will be cold.” You said and he shook his head.

“You’re more important.” You wanted to protest, but you knew that Bucky would give you his jacket anyway because he didn’t want you to be cold. So, you let him help you put his jacket on and then kissed your cheek softly.

“Thank you.” You whispered and he smiled at you.

“Let’s find a hotel room so we can snuggle up in bed.” Bucky said with a smile and took your hand again. You walked for a few more minutes and then finally found a hotel. When you walked into the hotel, you were greeted by a warm breeze and a friendly lady. When you went to the reception, Bucky took over the conversation and asked the lady for a room. Luckily, they had a room available for you to sleep in tonight. She gave you the key and then you went to your room with Bucky. The first thing you did after Bucky opened the door for you was to change into some different clothes. Then you jumped into the bed and got comfortable under the covers. Bucky chuckled and looked at you with a warm smile. Then he walked over to you, pulled the blanket aside and laid down next to you.

“Come here, I’ll warm you up, doll.” Bucky said, pulling you closer to him. You laid your head on his chest, and he wrapped his arms around you. You smiled softly as Bucky kissed your forehead.

“I’m so excited to go home tomorrow so we can celebrate Christmas together.” You said as you looked up at him.

“Me too.” Bucky said with a smile. You talked for a while about all the things you want to do on Christmas and how excited you are about the Avengers Christmas party that’s happening the next day. After a while, you must have fallen asleep because when you woke up, it was dark in the room and only a little light was coming through the curtains. You laid there for a few more minutes, enjoying Bucky’s loving embrace. After a while, Bucky woke up as well and kissed you.

“Good morning, doll.” Bucky whispered in a sleepy voice.

“Morning Bucky.” You said and gave him another kiss. After a few more minutes, you reached for your phone to see what time it was. Because if you want to be home for Christmas, you’d better catch a flight soon.

“I’ll check if there’s a plane going home soon.” You said and Bucky nodded. As you looked at the website, Bucky gave you a kiss on the forehead and got up from the bed.

“Oh, that’s weird.” You said and Bucky turned around.

“What doll?” Bucky asked curiously.

“It says here that there are no flights today.”

“Maybe Steve can pick us up with a Quinjet.” Bucky suggested and you nodded.

“Yeah, that’s a good idea.” You said as Bucky walked to the window and pulled the curtains away.

“Oh, now I know why there are no flights today.” Bucky suddenly said.

“What, why?” You asked and as you looked over at Bucky, he pulled the curtains away so you could see what was going on outside. It had snowed a lot.

“Looks like we’re snowed in.” Bucky said and your smile started to fade. Bucky immediately noticed and walked over to you.

“But we should be home tomorrow…for Christmas.” You began to sniffle. You wanted to have a perfect Christmas with Bucky.

“Hey, sweetheart, don’t cry.” Bucky whispered as he sat down next to you and pulled you into a hug.

“But we wanted to celebrate Christmas at home.” You said as a tear rolled down your cheek. Bucky gently wiped it away with his thumb and then gave you a warm smile.

“We’re already home.” Bucky suddenly said.

“What?” You asked confused.

“Home is not a place, at least not for me. You’re my home.” You began to smile, and Bucky smiled back at you.

“I love you.” You said and then placed your hand on his cheek and kissed him.

“I love you too.” Bucky told you after the kiss.

“You’re right, we don’t need to be at home. The most important thing is that we’re together.” As you said that, Bucky began to smile.

“Well said, doll.” Bucky said and made you chuckle.

“How about we order some breakfast so we can have breakfast in bed?” Bucky asked.

“That sounds perfect.”

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feedback form!!

requested by @lost4lyrics: lando x oscar x logan x reader where it was originally oscar x logan x reader and lando joins after oscar and logan get to f1? maybe the relationship announcement of lando joining?

a/n: ah so excited for this one!

comments reblogs and likes appreciated!!

.・。.・゜✭・..・。.・゜✭・..・。.・゜✭・..・。.・゜✭・.

ynusername

liked by oscarpiastri, logansargeant, and others

ynusername car rides🤎

logansargeant 😍

oscarpiastri You're hot baby.

user1 her face card is lethal

mclarenf1 Our favorite.

ynusername mwah mwah

fransisca.cgomes LINDAAAAAAAAA

ynusername all you bby 😘 pierregasly One day. One day I would like to not have my girlfriend and her best friend flirt with one another. ynusername you're stuck with me tripod

user2 hot

user3 mommy

carmenmmundt Your face card is lethal bby

ynusername love you carms

user4 oscar and logan are lucky

user5 i wonder which garage she'll be in this race?

ynrusername mclaren! user6 why not williams? ynusername well when you give a certain team principal some choice words, you get banned user7 ICONIC logansargeant You were defending my honour.

load more comments

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ynprivate

liked by landoprivate, oscarprivate, and others

ynprivate when the boyfs say to dress to the nines🖤

tagged: landoprivate, oscarprivate, loganprivate

landoprivate NOW I CAN COMMENT ON HOW HOT YOU ARE

alexalbonprivate SINCE WHEN?! maxvprivate WHY WEREN'T WE TOLD?! ynprivate lan said he told you landoprivate Whoops

oscarpiastri You're so hot

logansargeant Sexy

kikaprivate HOT MOMMA

carmenprivate can they fight?

ynprivate nope

lewisprivate I have so many questions...

nicoprivate Same ynprivate like? i'd be happy to answer them hulkprivate Like how does it work? ynprivate three holes. hulkprivate I meant anything besides that ynprivate oops charlesprivate TMI Yn, TMI

.・。.・゜✭・..・。.・゜✭・..・。.・゜✭・..・。.・゜✭・.

ynusername

liked by f1, user8 and others

ynusername one love, four hearts❤️💙🧡🤍🦅🐨🐶🫎

tagged: landonorris, oscarpiastri, logansargeant

landonorris I love you. Thank you for everything.

oscarpiastri I LOVE YOU BABY

logansargeant My baby.

maxverstappen1 Ok you are actually cute LOL

carlossainz55 Why the moose emoji?

ynusername cause they're all big lance_stroll DO NOT SLANDER THE MOOSE TO DESCRIBE YOUR BOYFRIENDS

comments have been limited

.・。.・゜✭・..・。.・゜✭・..・。.・゜✭・..・。.・゜✭・.

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[maxtermind]

for the 3k event can you do oscar or max (or both iykwim🤭) with “i want to hear you beg” and “aw, to bad i don’t care”

“i want to hear you beg.” + “aw, too bad. i don’t care.”

( event masterlist \ main masterlist \ drop a request ) ★:summary:: you have a meeting to attend but your jealous boyfriend couldn't give less fucks. well one fuck. ★:feat:: max verstappen x reader ★:genre:: NASTY smut ★:a/n:: kinktober? 3k event? max's birthday post? who knows

"max, i-i really can’t right now. i’m late," you say, trying to keep your voice steady. you glance at the clock on your desk, anxiety gnawing at you. you should already be in the conference room, and yet here you are, pinned against your own desk by the man whose jealousy has been brewing for days.

his response is a low growl in your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. "you’re not going anywhere," max murmurs darkly, his grip tightening on your hips. his body presses against yours, the heat of him radiating through your clothes. “not until he knows who he's messing with.”

you try to protest, to push him away, but your body betrays you. the moment his lips crash against yours, you’re kissing him back just as fiercely. the intensity of it, the raw possessiveness, sends your pulse racing. you want to tell him to stop, to remind him of the meeting you’re late for, but the words die on your lips.

instead, your fingers clutch at his shirt, pulling him closer. you hate how much you want this— how much you want him— despite the circumstances.

"m-max," you breathe, but it’s not a real protest. you feel his hand slide up your thigh, your skirt hiking up with every touch. "i ha.. have a meeting…"

“aw, too bad i don’t care,” he mocks against your ear, his fingers already hooking into the waistband of your panties. you gasp as he tugs them down, the cool air hitting your skin. his voice is thick with jealousy, low and possessive. "you want this just as much as i do, baby. don’t pretend you don’t."

he’s right, and you hate it. you can feel the wetness between your thighs, it's almost embarrassing, your body betraying the urgency of your situation. the logical part of your brain is screaming at you to stop, to tell him no, but the rest of you is aching for him, craving the way only he can make you feel. you just wish he knew that too.

you hear the rustle of his clothes as he frees himself, and before you can think of another excuse, he’s thrusting into you, filling you in one swift motion. a moan escapes your lips, your hands gripping the edge of the desk to steady yourself. the suddenness, the intensity—it’s too much, but at the same time, it’s exactly what you need.

"see?" his breath ragged as he thrusts deep into you, pinning you against your desk, slapping your butt as it wiggles back into him, seeking some relief. "no one else can fuck you like this. no one else can make you feel this good." before his words even finish, his hips already start moving with a relentless pace.

his words send a wave of heat through you, your body arching back into him, seeking more. the meeting is a distant memory now, completely overshadowed by the sensation of him inside you, the roughness of his hands on your hips.

the door to your office is unlocked, and the thought of someone walking in on you, seeing you bent over your desk while max takes you, only heightens the intensity.

"max, s-someone could—" you whine, your voice shaky with both desire and fear, a deadly combo.

"let him," he growls, his grip tightening. "let him see who you really belong to."

his words send a surge of arousal through you, and you know you’re already too far gone to care about anything else. the way he’s thrusting into you, his pace unyielding, his breath hot against your neck—it’s everything. every time you try to form a coherent thought, it’s shattered by the overwhelming pleasure that’s building inside you.

you try to hold on, to fight it, but your body is betraying you. his possessiveness, the roughness of his touch, the way he’s claiming you—it’s pushing you closer and closer to the edge. your legs tremble, your breath coming in short gasps as you feel yourself unraveling.

"max, i’m-" you try to warn him, but the words get lost in the haze of pleasure.

he leans down, his lips brushing against your ear as he thrusts harder. "you’re mine," he growls, his voice thick with satisfaction. "say it."

"i’m yours," you moan, your voice trembling as the pressure builds, the tension in your body coiling tighter and tighter. the thought of someone walking in, of seeing you like this—helpless, claimed, utterly his—sends you spiraling. and then the worst thing happens.

"max, noo!" you whine pathetically as he pulls out of you, the string of juices connecting you both drops on the floor and tears well up in your eyes as your thighs tremble, your poor hole clenching around thin air. your boyfriend flicks the tear away and shushes you as holds your body firmly.

"i just wanna hear ya' beg, honey." you open your eyes to watch him eyeing his dick that was rubbing the slick against your clit, your puffy pussy barely able to handle it. so fucking messy. each rub, each touch making your back arch further. "bad girls don't get free orgasms."

"c'mon, baby." max taunts with a fake pout as you move to get more friction, to reach that high again. "don't go all dumb on me now."

it wasn't till he was removing his whole body from yours that immediate cries of please max, please, please, plea- was falling out of your lips.

your boyfriend immediately goes back into action and it wasn't too long before he was inside you again and his hand connected to your clit that you were gasping and screaming altogether.

your orgasm crashes over you, your body convulsing around him as you cry out, barely able to hold yourself up. the intensity of it makes your vision blur, your legs shaking as you cling to the desk for support. your mind goes blank and all you can fell is your boyfriend still rutting into you, now frantic and not in a rhythm, meaning he was close.

"fuc-ck," max groans soon enough. you feel him tense, his hands gripping your hips even tighter, surely going to leave bruises, as he thrusts into you one last time, whispering your name as he spills inside you. for a moment, you’re both still, breathless and trembling, making sense of what just happened.

you’re the first to break the silence, your breath coming in shallow gasps as you try to pull yourself together. "i- max, i have to go," you whisper, though your voice is weak. your legs still feel like jelly, your body still buzzing from the intensity of it all.

you barely manage to stand, your legs shaky, your mind still reeling from the intensity of whatever the fuck just happened. before you can even begin to gather yourself, there’s a knock at the door. panic surges through you as you try to fix your dress, max rushing to help you look put together but it’s too late.

the door opens, revealing your coworker—the one who’d unknowingly triggered max’s jealous streak in the first place. his eyes flicker from you to max, confusion and something else flashing across his face as he takes in the scene. you’re flushed, disheveled, barely holding it together, and max? max is smirking still patting your clothes and your hair because you can't move.

he gives your coworker a nod, as if to say, yeah, i know. the unspoken message is clear, and the smirk on max’s face says it all. he kisses your temple as he doesn't break eye contact with your coworker while you figure out the fastest way to die on the spot.

you’re late, and everyone knows why.

with a final, cocky grin, max walks out, leaving you to face the consequences. and the worst part? you liked it. all you can think about is him during the meeting, your ego too big to admit it out loud to him though.

©maxtermind // do not copy, rewrite or translate any of my work on any platforms.

★:a/n:: thanks for the request love! feedback and reblogs are appreciated :3

[sosa2imagines]

Dad Bucky ask.

An adventurous funny day with Bucky and his six months old boy? And when the his wife comes home from work, she's happy to see her boys fast asleep on the couch. Something like this?

Thank you for the ask, hope you like it.

Warning- Fluff.

As you step outside the house, you turn around to give your husband a playful peck on the lips, saying a light hearted comment, “Behave.”

Bucky laughs and replies, “Don't worry, I'll be a saint.”

You leave the house, a mixture of nervousness and excitement on your face. Bucky closes the door and turns to their six month old boy. He smirks mischievously, seemingly already planning some mischief for the day.

Breakfast was a delightful and energetic affair as Bucky joyfully planned out the day. With excitement in his voice, he turned to the six-month-old, saying, “Today, young man, we're going to have a blast! Mama told us to behave, and we will, but in our own unique way.”

The baby's joyful giggles filled the air as he hit his tiny, chubby fists against the high chair, mirroring his father's enthusiasm. Bucky chuckled warmly, captivated by his son's playful energy.

Over pancakes and scrambled eggs, Bucky outlined their agenda for the day.

First up, the music session.

Bucky's mischievous grin grew wider as he pulled out the pots and pans. He exclaimed, “Time to rock, my boy!”

As Green Day's “American Idiot” started blasting, Bucky sang out heartily and banged the pots with enthusiasm. The baby joined in, giggling and thumping along, enjoying the impromptu music session with his dad.

The neighbors likely heard the noisy yet joyful commotion and might have complained, but Bucky and his young son were too immersed in their own amusing and happy raucousness to notice or care.

Next, the spy mission.

Bucky, with his young son in his arms, picked up the binoculars and whispered to him, “Shh, buddy, we're on a secret stakeout.” He then positioned himself near the window, holding his son so he could peek through the curtains too.

Together, they observed their unsuspecting neighbors going about their daily lives, turning the seemingly mundane into a thrilling secret mission.

Bucky and his young son watched intently as their first target came into view, ‘Mrs. Johnson’ and her gardening endeavors. As Mrs. Johnson busied herself outside, Bucky whispered to his son, “Look at that, buddy. She's up to something.”

The baby babbled in agreement, as if sharing his father's intrigue.

After monitoring Mrs. Johnson's gardening, their attention turned to the next target, Mr. Thompson and his hat collection.

Bucky chuckled softly, a sly grin playing on his lips. He whispered to his son, “Next up, Mr. Thompson's hat collection. This ought to be good.”

The baby made a sound of excitement, as if already looking forward to the quirky sight they were about to witness.

Bucky's eyes narrowed as they focused on Mr. Thompson, who was now outside, sporting an extravagant hat. He shook his head, a mix of amusement and disbelief. “Look at that, buddy. That hat is something else.”

The baby cooed in agreement, seemingly mesmerized by the spectacle. The two continued their covert observation, entertained by the unusual fashion choice of their neighbor.

Bucky and his son observed the last target - the Rodriguez family enjoying their lively barbecue.

Bucky let out a low whistle, his interest piqued. He spoke to the baby in a conspiratorial whisper, “Looks like the Rodriguez family is having a party.”

The baby's response was a series of excited babbles, indicating he was all ears, metaphorically speaking.

As they continued their secret stakeout, Bucky couldn't help but whisper lighthearted commentary to his son. He chuckled as the baby cooed and gurgled in response, as if engaging in a secret conversation with his father.

As the afternoon wore on, their adventures exhausted them. Bucky settled onto the couch with his son, surrounded by toys and blankets.

As you entered the house after work, you were welcomed by a heartwarming sight.

On the couch, Bucky and their son were fast asleep, cuddled together in a peaceful slumber.

Bucky's protective arm cradled their six-month-old son, snuggled against his father's chest.

Looking at the peaceful scene, a soft smile graced your lips, feeling the warm fuzzy feeling of love for your little family spread through you.

You tiptoed closer, taking in the peaceful atmosphere. A smile spread across your face, this was happiness.

You gently kissed Bucky's forehead. “You're an amazing dad.” Bucky stirred, opening sleepy eyes, looking at you with a proud smile. “Best job in the world.”

Their son stirred, yawning, and snuggled deeper into Bucky's chest.

Your family's warmth enveloped you. In this moment, everything felt right with the world.

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