#LN script

[ayara-resara]

If I had to make a kgpr&creators quiz, the most tricky question would probably be "what was the first ever collaboration between Jin and Sidu?" (spoiler: it's not Mekakushi Chord)

[jamminvroomvroom]

🎀 anon

congrats on 5k

hey bb ! i’ve been brainrotting on insatiable lando and his gf for weeks now omg

for a cute lil fic i was thinking of reader being max f’s sister and lando and her being secretly together. they’re all on vacation together and lando and reader are super insanely insatiable and the story on how they act on vacay 😈😈

anywhere she wants.

ln x fem fewtrell!reader

in which no one approves of your relationship, so lando shows them just how good he is to you…

oh my sweet 🎀 anon, i’m sorry this took so long! slowly getting back into the groove of writing, starting with this little piece! i went a bit off script but the vibes are hopefully similar to the request! huge thanks to angel bby @fairene for helping me out!enjoy! lemme know what you think!! big hugs and lots of love 💖

songs to set the mood: my love mine all mine by mitski, i know places by taylor swift, she will be loved by maroon 5, summertime sadness by lana del rey

warnings: 18+!! minors dni!! smut, fluff, angst, a bit of exhibitionism kinda, oral (fem receiving), fingering, p in v, established relationship, max being a dick, angry/feral!lando, girlboss!reader, hints of ownership kink? for like. a second, lando being wise (not canon lmao), swearing

4.2k words

fairy lights drench the pool with light, a glow dancing over the still surface in ripples. you smile, hum with content as the warm evening air washes over your skin, leaning over the balcony to take in the sight of where you’ll be staying.

footsteps sound from behind you, the master bedroom, and you quickly feel two warm arms wrap around your waist, tan and thick. you lean into his touch, chest warming from the kisses peppered over your jugular.

“you like it?” lando breathes, nosing over your earlobe.

“it’s beautiful.” you whisper, turning your head to nuzzle against him. he seizes the opportunity to seal his lips over yours, kissing you soft and deep. you spin in his arms, clutching at his shirt to hold him close, the kiss intensifying, changing pace. just as he licks into your mouth, a sigh, so loud that it breaks the sound barrier, tears you both apart.

“so is that all you two do now, suck each others faces?” max rolls his eyes, his disapproval of your relationship one of the worlds worst kept secrets.

“yes, max. that’s all we do.” you mock, biting back at your older brother.

because of course you’re dating your brothers best friend. of course you are. life is funny like that.

lando stays silent, but you feel his hand on your waist tightening. max swallows hard.

“we ordered pizza, if you guys wanna come down.” max bulldozes through the awkwardness, offering an olive branch, and leaves.

“he is such a knob.” you mutter, shaking your head. lando strokes tentatively over your cheek, soothing you.

“he’s your big brother, baby. he’ll get over this.” lando coos reassuringly, and you choose the easy path of believing him.

you and max occupy opposite ends of the excessively large dining table when you join the rest of your friends.

the tension has been palpable between you and max since he caught you sneaking out of lando’s london flat one morning, the reason for your visit quite clear. you’d stood with your ear to the door when he’d stormed past you and entered the apartment, making you more than aware that your presence was unwanted when he quickly slammed the door behind him.

you’d endured the one-sided screaming match that followed, the accusations that lando must be playing with your feelings, that it would never work out, that it wasn’t fair at how exposed you’d be to the cruelty of his fan base, that he couldn’t believe how low lando would stoop to date his little fucking sister.

you wanted to understand, and really, you tried!but max hadn’t made it easy, constantly pushing your buttons and making needless digs at the both of you. lando convinced you that this holiday during the summer break would be healing; max would get to see how much lando cared for you, and everyone got much needed time to relax. so, with your friend group in tow, the three of you jetted off to the tiny spanish island.

surely, everything would be fine.

-

everything was not, in fact, fine.

you can smell it in the air, the tension building thick and heavy. everyone thought they were slick, waiting for lando to leave so they could corner you, and corner you, they did.

lando had kissed you sweetly by the sliding doors to the garden, popping his airpods in and shouting a quick: going on a run! to the rest of your holiday party. you’d sauntered carelessly to a lounger, bikini clad, sprawling out across the chair to tan and watch the who can do the best canon ball into the pool competition that has become a long running championship. but you can feel stares, feel the walls closing in, and you push your sunglasses up to rest over your hairline.

max and pietra are locked in on you, as are the rest of your friends.

“what?” you feel hot, embarrassed all of the sudden for no reason at all.

“so, it’s going well, then… with lando?” one of your girlfriends starts, but it sounds extra high pitched, awkward. your stomach sinks as you realise the pathetically choreographed dance about to take place.

“for fuck sake.” you mutter.

“she’s just asking!” max shoots back, as if he’s offended, as if you can’t see right through him.

“it’s going great.” you state, blunt as ever whenever your relationship is questioned.

“we just wanna make sure that this is right for you.” pietra says sympathetically, her eyes soft. you’ve known her long enough to know that even though her dickhead boyfriend is being callous, she genuinely cares.

“lando is right for me, you are all so full of shit! i don’t get what it is that you’re seeing.” you try and keep your voice level, even as your blood pressure begins to rise menacingly.

“it’s not so much what we see between you, it’s more about what he was like before.” tom jumps in.

ah, yes. the infamous hoe phase.

“because no one here ever fucked around.” you glare pointedly at your brother. he lowers his gaze.

“are we sure this isn’t just a… a fling?” pietra tries again, staying soft. her words still sting.

“yeah, i know him better than you do, and i-“ max’s voice cuts you like a thousand shards of glass and you body ignites with rage.

he knows him better? what does he know?

does he know that lando can’t sleep without telling you that he loves you? does he know that lando cried into you arms after his miami win? does he know that lando feels itchy if he doesn’t tell you that you’re beautiful at least eleven times an hour? does he know that you’re so crazy about his gorgeous, loving, infuriating best friend that you’re prepared to tell your brother where to go and to never come back?

“shut the fuck up, max. you know nothing! nothing about our relationship because you never gave us a chance. you don’t see how much i love him because every time you see us together, you’re hellbent on destroying our happiness.” you point angrily, standing from your chair. before you turn to the house, you leave them all with a parting message.

“and all of you will do very well to remember who paid to bring your bitter arses here. remember whose fucking house you’re in.” you lecture, watching as they all turn sheepish as they realise how ungrateful they sound.

“i don’t think i have anything to add.” you hear from behind you.

you jump, turning to see lando leaning against the door.

“shit, baby.” you breathe, rushing towards him, your skin crawling as you wonder how much he’s heard.

“forgot my phone.” he shrugs, smiling warmly at you. only at you. “now unless anyone has anything to add, i’m gonna take my very, very serious girlfriend upstairs.” he grins smugly.

the silence is so deafening that you couldn’t of even heard a pin drop if you’d tried.

you hold up your middle finger as he leads you away.

your bedroom door slams so hard that they must hear it outside. he’s tense, enraged at the disrespect that you’d endured, but he’s soft with you, pulling you into his rigid body. he relaxes into you, walking you further into the room.

“how much did you hear?” you whisper, clinging to him.

“oh, you know, just all of it.” he laughs bitterly, fingers sinking into your hips.

“they’re assholes.” you growl, threading your fingers through the curls at the nape of his neck, just the way he likes it.

“there is one good thing about it though.” lando hums, still guiding you deeper into the room. your back thuds softly against the sliding glass door, the one that leads to your balcony.

“what?” you breathe, suddenly extremely aware of his lower body.

“you’re so fucking sexy when you’re mad.” he smirks.

turns out, he didn’t steal you away to mope.

his lips crash against yours fiercely, teeth and tongue getting in on the action as he moves his mouth feverishly against your own. your neck tilts back, allowing him to swallow you whole, like his life depends on the feeling of you pressed against him. he trails kisses over your cheek, across your jaw, down your neck, two fingers grazing your ribcage. he snaps the tie of your bikini against your skin, stone cold aware of the lack of clothing adorning your body and he hums low from the back of his throat.

“they need to learn that you’re mine, that you’re always gonna be mine.” lando grunts, pulling away to slide the door open. he pushes you out onto the balcony, the one that overlooks the very pool that your friends and your brother are licking their wounds around.

“lando…” you gasp, weary of his overly adventurous attitude.

“maybe this will make them realise just how crazy you make me.” lando looks possessed, moving towards you like a wild animal engulfing its prey.

he cages you in against the wall, pulling one leg over his hip to spread you open, his fingers travelling to the flimsy tie of your bikini bottoms. you’re already soaked, embarrassingly so, really, but there’s just something about those gorgeous, haunted eyes. lando let’s the bottoms fall to the floor, kicking them away impatiently as he quickly finds home between your legs.

“think anyone else can get you this wet?” lando asks, eyes rolling back as he finds your slick folds. your jaw drops, already boneless at the feel of him. “answer me, baby. nice ‘n loud for me.” he demands.

“no, lan.” you whine, bucking your hips into his hand. he’s teasing, stroking lightly over your folds and your sensitive bud.

“and can anyone else make you feel this good? i mean, baby, i’ve barely touched you and you’re shaking.” lando’s teeth catch his bottom lip, his eyes glazing over as he watches you.

“lando, please.” you mutter, grinding down on his hand. you need more of him. he grins, flashing his teeth with pride as he renders you desperate.

“my pretty girl fucking my hand, god, you’re so perfect.” lando praises, earning a moan from your kiss-swollen lips. “bet they can hear how soaked you are, baby.”

you flush red, shame and embarrassment blurring the pleasure and you press a tense hand to your mouth, trying to silence the waterfall of whines.

“don’t you fucking dare.” he warns, sliding his fingers deep into your pussy. he gives you no time to adjust, curling them upwards and rocking his whole hand against you. his palm bumps against your clit and you writhe against the wall.

there’s no point covering your mouth, there is no hiding what’s happening. you let him have you how he wants you, a consolation for him having to hear his friends badmouth him, and he takes every liberty, mouthing at your covered tits, lapping over your peaked nipples. you cry out, weak as he manipulates your body closer to an orgasm, your wetness trickling down his wrist.

“so good to me, baby, only you, lando.” you choke, your voice echoing between the stone walls.

“that’s it, honey, make a mess for me. let ‘em hear you pretty girl.” he encourages, talking you straight into your first orgasm.

you tremble, gushing all over his hand as you cum, droplets splattering all over the paved floor. lando’s eyes turn black, mouth hanging open as he watches you fall apart, riding you through it.

lando let’s you cool down, propping you carefully against the wall, and leaning over the balcony. funnily enough, max is long gone, but the rest of them sit in stunned silence. he can’t help himself, driven mad by your quivering body and their cruel jabs, choosing whatever the opposite of the high road is. he reaches into his pocket, finding his credit card.

“get out of the villa that i paid for so i can fuck my girlfriend anywhere she wants.” he shouts, watching the way their necks snap up to look at him, revelling in their reddened faces that are not just flushed from the sun. “take this. have dinner. just fuck off.” he frisbees his card at tom, - rather carelessly really, considering just how much there was to lose on that little black square - and he revels in the way it lands square against his forehead.

they all stand up and scurry away, as few faint sorry’s! carrying through the air towards the couple on the balcony, but lando has more important business to attend to.

he scoops you up into his arms, grinning at your coy smile and your drooping eyes. he carries you to bed, planting you in the middle of the mattress.

“not done with you yet, baby, open those eyes for me.” lando coos, crawling over you, his shirt and workout shorts flung to the other side of the room. he feels delicious against you, caging you in beneath him.

“want you, lan.” you plead, a desperate smile on your face as you keen, stretching against the mattress like a cat.

“you’ll have me, baby. always gonna have me.” he smiles, eyes finding yours. “i love you.”

“love you so much.” you whisper, pulling him flush against you. “no matter what.” you affirm. he needed to hear that, it seems, his eyes sparkling with something else, other than the sheen of lust.

he kisses you, firm and wanting, his fingertips sliding up over your arms, leaving prickles of lightning and goosebumps in their wake. one of his hands interlocks with yours, twining together above your head, his body stretching languidly over yours. you can feel him, hard and throbbing between your legs, teetering on the knife edge of self control.

“take me, lando. have me how you want me. ‘m yours.” you croon, disguising a helpless whine as you arch your body into his. you’re squirming for it, to feel him sink deep and claim you his.

that seems to usher him along, and he drags his cock through your folds with a slow roll of his hips, the head catching your sodden entrance. you hiss, the intrusion not even nearly enough, but the sensation overwhelming you nonetheless. he slides into you carefully, stilling when his hips hit flush against yours. you do not want careful.

“fuck me.” you groan wetly, hot breath fanning his face as your mouth instinctively fills with saliva. you’re close to drooling for him.

“beg.” he snaps, jaw tight as he battles his natural instinct to utterly ravage you. “beg me to show you that i own you.”

your legs quiver, pussy clenching around him and he cannot help but buck his hips and suppress a whine. he styles it out, tantalisingly slow as he rolls his hips, grinding against your pleasure point, your slick walls. blood rushes in your ears, your body feral with need. you can’t even tease, disobey him for the fun of it, not when he’s wound you up so delectably. your body keens for him, hums with the sparks, a live wire.

“don’t wanna be able to walk when you’re done,” you slur, beginning to ramble. “want to feel you so deep that i’m ruined. ‘m yours, lando. have me.” you plead.

pleasure shoots through him, then, rapid and unwavering. he’s unforgiving as he rails into you, immediately stoking the fire in your belly. all of his body weight is on you, sweaty skin sticking and slapping as his hipbones bruise into yours.

“is that how you want it, huh, baby?” he manages to growl, scooping up your wrists in one big paw, his other hand working down the planes and curves of your body. he finds the triangles of your bikini top, hastily tearing them down just enough so that your tits spill out. all for him. all his. “look at this perfect fucking body,” his breathe hitches, awestruck. “is it all mine?”

you cry out, nodding shamelessly as he ghosts his fingers around the swell of your nipple, switching to the other when he’s satisfied with the peak. he alternates between them, twisting and tugging, barely there and all too hard. you can only plead his name and tighten around his cock.

once he’s overstimulated your chest, he works his fingers further down your body, stopping now and then to dig into your flesh, appreciating the soft feeling of your skin under his calloused hands.

“and this hot, little cunt… is this mine, too?” lando breathes, right against the shell of your ear. his thumb presses hard against your thrumming clit, smearing your slick over the bud. “to play with? is it baby?”

“god, yes.” you manage to bellow, the strained words tearing over your vocal chords.

“yes, what?” lando snaps, slapping lightly over the bundle of nerves.

“it’s yours!” you sob, choking on your own voice.

“to…?” lando coaxes, a smirk tugging at his swollen lips as he looks at you expectantly.

“to play with.” you stutter, cheeks tinged hot with embarrassment that seeps down your neck and between your sweat-dampened bodies.

“that’s my good girl. my pretty, pretty girl.” he mutters, more to himself than to you.

“‘m so close.” you breathe, writhing up the mattress, his body atop your inescapable. he toys with your clit, pinching the electrified nerves, watching how you buck your hips and leak onto the mattress. he’s covered in you, his belly glistening in the sunlight that washes over you, sealing you forever in this golden, sparkling moment.

“want me to cum all over your tummy, baby? mark you mine?” lando gasps, driving into you with one goal in mind. he has to get you there, wants to be painted in the remnants of your pleasure and hung up in every art museum in the world. if only he wasn’t so selfish, yearning to keep this stunning sight to himself for the rest of his life.

“n-no,” you pause, your jaw going slack for a moment as he circles your clit just right, grinds his hips so deep. “inside me.” you beg.

“fill me up.”

his vision blurs.

lando just about folds you in half, carnal desire surging through his veins. the hand keeping yours suspended over your head falls away, finding your navel where he applied a brutal, sweet pressure that leaves you blind and wailing. his other fingers busy themselves sinking into the meat of your thigh, dragging you backwards and forwards on his throbbing length.

your body goes limp, tears of pleasure trailing wetly down your face as your orgasm hits you, and lando can’t help but bury himself as deep as he can go. the rutting of his hips and the messy rub of his whole hand against your clit leaves you awestruck, sobbing into the air of the room. you’re covering him in waves, shivering as you grow overstimulated but you can’t help but chase the high. your violent quivers and dripping cunt make him whine, high pitched and divine, and he drops onto you, filling you up. he can’t seem to stop, painting you white from the inside out, watching the way it drips out of you, coating the base of his cock.

this can’t be over yet, he decides. he needs to hear you scream.

“lemme help you with that.” he mumbles, slinking down your body, eyes fixed solely on where you were joined together.

you don’t even get a chance to mourn the loss of him buried inside of you, no. you’re too busy pushing at his curls, pleading that he lets up, but he can’t. it’s not that he won’t, it’s that he quite simply can’t.

his tongue runs up the seam of your pussy, lapping over the mixture you’ve made and you can’t do anything but cry and thrash, white hot with pleasure and pain. its so good that it hurts, and you give in, knowing that he isn’t going to stop unless you say the magic words. lord knows, you won’t. lando knows you won’t.

it’s torturous, really, the way he sucks your clit into his mouth, drags his tongue over his mess and slips it right into your entrance. he swirls and sucks and nips and tugs. it’s like he’s turned a faucet on, watching hazily as you drip and drip, more of you and him seeping onto his tongue. he’s insatiable as he licks you clean, unable to resist luring you into a third orgasm.

and when it hits, god, does it hit.

the scream he pulls from your body is deafening, makes him shake with the intensity of it, the vibrations rippling through your body and ricocheting off of his. you relax limply into the mattress, urgently needing a break. you watch through hooded eyes as he slurps anything left of you from his reddened lips, your thighs clenching unconsciously. he just chuckles, flopping down beside you.

“tired, baby?” lando teases, stroking over your rapidly rising and falling ribs.

“just a tad.” you deadpan, unable to hold back the giggles as serotonin soothes you.

“oh, sweetheart. i’m not even nearly done with you yet.” lando grins toothily, deviously.

something he said about fucking you ‘anywhere’ you wanted dawns on you and your eyes widen.

-

anywhere really did mean anywhere.

he’d had to carry you to the shower when you were finally done, holding you close under the spray. you were lost to the memory of him pushing you into the sideboard in the hallway, laying you flat across the kitchen counter, eating you like dessert on the very same sun lounger that you’d been perched on when this whole marathon commenced.

you’re utterly spent, eyelids sagging when he finally sets you down on the sofa, playing on his phone while you fall asleep watching the office.

you’re curled up in lando’s lap, legs hanging over the end of the sofa when max finds you. hair still wet from the much needed shower and fast asleep in his best friends arms. he actively chooses to quell the disgusted curl of his lips. you look so peaceful, safe. his plans to throttle lando for his earlier stint subside.

“call me a wankstain on society later, if you want, but please don’t wake her up.” lando speaks with a hushed tone, not even gracing max with eye contact, his eyes remaining on the candies he’d been crushing before the other fewtrell turned up.

“i- no, i wasn’t gonna call you that. i did, however, consider driving that very nice, very vintage lambo you hired off a cliff.” max mutters. lando scoffs a laugh.

“you would have paid for it.” he still doesn’t look up from the phone. max eyes the way lando strokes your side, in time with the crests and falls of your breath. it’s tender, intimate.

max considers that there’s a strong possibility he was wrong.

“mate, listen-“

“nope. she’s your baby sister, i get it. i get it. you can hate me for it, but you crossed a line going after her like that.” lando finally looks up at max, glowering sternly.

“i’m gonna talk to her.” max bows his head, as if he’s ashamed of himself and lando softens slightly.

“you should, mate. she wants your support, your approval means everything.” lando says. “look, i love her. i really do. and while you were accusing me of trying to ruin her life, you were crushing her.” lando sighs, his voice wavering with a hint of pain. max meets his gaze.

“for the record, i don’t think anyone will ever be good enough for my little sister, but you come pretty fucking close.” max relents, pushing his pride aside, finally. lando smiles, small and knowing.

“i just wanna make her happy.” he shrugs, a look of hopeless romance, utter devotion and pure happiness radiating off of him in waves as he gazes down at your frame. something in max’s belly snaps, the apprehension dissolving to mush. he had gotten this all wrong.

“you do.” he hums, watching how you curl further into lando as you stir in your sleep, the drivers fingers delicately combing your hair away from your face. “but,” max quips.

lando grimaces, bracing himself.

“if you ever, ever, pull something like that again,” max shivers with disgust at the insinuation. “i will remove your bollocks and make you watch me crash the miura.” max swears, pointing a finger of warning.

“seems like everyone’s come to their senses, no more… pranks from me.” lando holds his free hand up in mock surrender.

“have you two kissed and made up yet?” you murmur, stretching out in lando’s arms. you rub sleep from your eyes, sitting up and leaning into your boyfriends solid frame, resting against him as your eyes flit to your brother.

“we’re good. ‘m, uh, sorry.” max nods, attempting to be heartfelt. lando chokes on a laugh as it falls flat.

“you’re “uh, sorry”?” you deadpan, crossing your arms over your chest.

“i’m really sorry.” max tries again, and you grin cheekily at your brother, watching as his shoulders release the tension they’ve been carrying all afternoon. he turns to leave, halfway to the door when you call out to him.

“hey, max?”

“yeah, lovely?” your chest warms at the sweet nickname. you’d forgotten the last time he’d called you that.

“wash your sheets.” your eyes blaze with amusement and you hear lando’s sharp inhale of breath, shocked that you’d gone there.

“you didn’t- my god, you did not-“ max splutters, his face almost green with nausea.

“you’ll never know for sure.” you grin. you think he’s going to faint.

serves the bastard right.

-

hehe

lemme know what u think!! <33

-

taglist

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[veejiez]

Hi! Could i request Sukuna with CHERRY + STRAWBERRY SYRUP + WHIPPED CREAM pls

🧎‍♀️ 🧎‍♀️🧎‍♀️

Filming on shoot with your co-star Sukuna Ryomen, you totally go off-script and work overtime 'cause he fucks you a little too good.

ㅤ★ promptlist

ㅤ★ cws; strictly NOT for under 18s — please consume content online responsibly, explicit smut, Sukuna & reader are both 🌽⭐ being filmed on set, breeding kink, multiple orgasms/creampies

ㅤ★ an; if any piece of smut is gonna lock me out of heaven it's gonna be this one i think (ok, that's an exaggeration lol) anyways enjoyyy!! 🎀💗

"Nn!! Gimmie me your babies!!"

"Huh?"

Pornstar!Sukuna's hips stutter, his pierced cock almost coming to a still inside of you as you totally give away your breeding kink.

This isn't part of the script, is it? He's wondering if he missed something — he's always been a bit of a lazy reader. And today he just kinda jumped into it 'cause he was too excited to fuck a tiny thing like you on the arm of a couch.

He pays a glance to the camera crew, then lets out a chuckle, "Am I fuckin' ya so good you forgot the script?"

You give him a blissed-out, drooly face that honestly makes his heart lurch. But he's gotta keep it together — he's at the height of his career and he refuses to develop a crush on a coworker.

"I'm sorry, it just feels so good!"

Sukuna's taken aback for a solid minute, then he snaps-to and sees the potential title shining in his mind; "Petite Slut YN LN Goes Dumb on Sukuna Ryomen's Cock — Begs for a Creampie!!"

"Shit... alright... perk that ass up 'n 'lemme give it to ya then."

With that, he's helping you reposition on the stark-white couch and quickly stuffing his cock back inside you, starting back up his relentless thrusting into your weeping pussy.

Giving it to you just how you like, nice and hard with little breaks in between, Sukuna fucks you like he's actually gonna get you knocked up — like your birth control ain't gonna work for shit against his thick, gooey cumload that comes pouring out his cock five minutes later.

Mister "Unbeatable Stamina" who rivalled Gojo Satoru, your favorite co-star before today, cums so quickly as you leg-lock him for a babymaking creampie, 'till he he shoots blanks and groans, draining his heavy balls deep inside you.

"Fuck, look at how clingy you are..." he chuckles, "Leg-locking me like I'm your lover... are we making porn or a French movie?" he murmurs now coming down to kiss all over your shoulders and neck, hungry for your skin against his lips. His cock's stilled as deep inside you as possible, and you're reactively grabbing at his tattooed muscles and whimpering.

"Nng, oh my god... I'm so full..." you mewl, clawing at him, "Ahhfuck, fuck me again, 'Kuna! Let me have it!"

"Ya sure about that...?"

"Mhm!!" you nod, eyes full of lust.

"Insatiable lil' slut..." he mutters under his breath, drawing his cock back out until it's just the tip keeping all his warm cum plugged up inside you.

You start babbling like crazy, begging him to fuck you again, and he's reading your body's cues to make sure your poor pussy could handle your lustful request — Gojo told him that you kinda liked to bite off more than you could chew. Seeing your lust and raw passion, Sukuna starts pounding into you again, hitting your gummy sweet spot 'till you see stars and babble out obscenities and a million yesses.

He's fucking you through your (third? fourth?) orgasm while grunting and looking down at the sight of your gushing hole, feeling it milk him for all he's worth. You're so beautiful right then, he wonders if a sleazy guy like him could get a woman like you.

Something unprofessionally romantic sparkles in Sukuna's eyes as he watches you cum again, legs held back and eyes rolling hard. He hides it quickly, but not quickly enough — the two of you've already made that burning eye contact.

"... one more!" you request breathlessly, shaking from the aftershock of your orgasm. "I can go one more round!"

He rings out with this laughter that makes your tummy tighten 'n your pussy clamp down on his way too thick cock, squeezing some of his leftover cum out.

"Shit, you're crazy. Might needa take ya out after this."

Humping you like an animal, getting balls deep at last (gold star for you, honestly. What an achievement), you can't even reply to his oddly cute offer for a date; he's got you moaning out like a bitch in heat, taking all of his pierced cock, arching your back just like he's been dying to see ever since he saw your first video — oh god let's not mention how jealous he was of Gojo Satoru.

His jealousy is the whole reason he's here right now.

Sukuna's flown out to fuck you better than anybody you've had previously on set — and he wasn't even late to the shoot, which he's been notorious for. No, he was on-time. Got there, saw you in the make-up room, gave you a greeting hug, you looked up at him with heart eyes and asked him flirtatiously how he slept and he eyed your tits which sloppily spilled out your dressing gown, and — well, had you on his cock within minutes of meeting you.

Sloppy, open-mouthed kissing — literally engulfing your lips with his, Sukuna ruined your hair and makeup within a few minutes of meeting you. Hardly had time for small talk. It had you giggling. The camera crew had to snap-to, because Sukuna had you bent into lewd positions and poised on his tattooed cock before they even started rolling.

"... look at that lil' beauty, huh? You gonna be my little goddess today? Good." he growled into your mouth — 'n that was really the first thing you remember him saying to you before sliding past your soft folds and making you moan out at his size.

That was all when you two were only fifteen minutes in. One hour into it, you now have started begging for his babies as the camera crew circles around the two of you.

You're looking down at the small bump that his cock makes each time he thrusts in 'n feeling your lower tummy shudder. His creampies are leaking out, smeared all over your pussy as he keeps up his relentless thrusts into that pussy he's now totally addicted to. All the cream getting whipped up makes his head spin and for a long few minutes, and now Sukuna's hardly fucking you like a pornstar anymore; nah, he's going at it like he's your man.

"Oh my god... oh my god! Ahhh!! Yes!! Yesyesyes, f-fuck me just like thaaaaat!!" you smile in total bliss, and damn he just can't believe that you still look just like the same goddess he met an hour ago, even in your exhausted state with ruined hair and makeup.

"Fuck, you're gonna make me cum inside you again..."

"Yeahhh, do it!"

"... uhh, guys, we have to wrap up the shoot in like ten minutes..."

Oh, you were on set? Oops. Sukuna grunts at the camera crew that they're just gonna have to work overtime today and deal with it.

But eventually, the scene ends, and everyone's muttering thank god's and finally's under their breath, readying to go. Sukuna saunters on over to you, dressed in his silk robe, face still sweaty and tired, and he pays you this devilish smirk.

" 'gimmie your babiess' huh? Don't think I ever heard that one before... at least not in a professional setting." he teases you.

You bite your lip back to him, "I'm so sorry, I don't know what came over me."

He chuckles, "Don't be sorry, y' made me cum harder than I have in a while. It was a great scene."

He winks, grabbing a handful of your ass as you come to meet him for a sloppy goodbye kiss, "Thanks for making me feel good." you whisper on his lips.

"Uh-huh..." he hums, making a show of prying your arms off his neck despite loving how mad you are for him. "Okay okay... don't get too clingy... anyways, about that date..."

[page-yerin]

𝜗𝜚˚⋆ LOVE ME BACK — 최연준

⭑.ᐟ ─────── ❛ oh, i know you love me back 티내지 않아도 / maybe you don't love me back ❜ ( fromis_9 )

【 SCRIPT 】 ⊹₊⋆ you and yeonjun have seen it all with each other. literally, you’ve been together since you were both in the wombs. from bathing together at 3 years old to hanging out in the messy state of his room where the floor seemed nonexistent. until, you graduate from high school, and a certain incident happens. all of a sudden, you’re avoiding each other like the plague in university and acting like you haven’t known each other your whole lives. but, of course, fate has its own plans to drag you back together through awkward “coincidences.”

OR IN WHICH , the “it” boy and girl of university are secretly childhood friends, which may as well blow up the campus when people find out.

GENRES ᥫ᭡ written series + some smau scenes , family friend trope ,  childhood friends to estranged to lovers , forced proximity , college au , non-idol au , fluff , angst , crack

DISCLAIMERS ! kissing , skinship , cursing/profanity , possible ooc , jealousy , toxic relationships , violent jokes/dark humor , sarcasm , mentions of nudity (just about showering tgt as kids 💀) , some sexual(??) jokes

FEATURING ⸝⸝ nonidol!yeonjun x fem!reader

+ rest of txt , sunoo (enha) , chaewon (lsfm) , liz (ive) , rei (ive) , keeho (p1h)

𐔌 . ⋮ CHOI YEONJUN .ᐟ ֹ ₊ ꒱ 𐔌 . ⋮ LN YN .ᐟ ֹ ₊ ꒱

ps. yn’s face claim is eson (insta); no, it does NOT mean yn will be described as her (appearance), it is just as the moodboard/placeholder

more under the cut !

NOTES ~ this is going to be my first series on tumblr aaaaaaa >< !! praying it goes well bc i keep struggling while writing argidieoeos ╥﹏╥ pls interact and reblog even if it’s criticism bc i genuinely want to know what people think of this for future improvement<33 i actually wrote this back some time ago and then ditched it since i was too busy to continue it,, but now i’m back and rewriting it !! hopefully some people actually like it and stick w me through the inconsistent updates haha.. nonetheless, introducing my first series: LOVE ME BACK!!~~

PLAYLIST ˎˊ˗ here!

CHAPTERS ── .✦

PROFILES one ﹏ two 000 prologue ( more tba! )

STATUS: ongoing (07.26.25 - ??)

TAGLIST ( open ) ୨ৎ you wanna be on the taglist? ^3^ comment on this post or send me an ask (specify the name of the series if the latter) to be added~~

tags: @lusayyawnn @bamtor1sss @tyunningism @vicurious28 @miyawwn @soobinz-wife @blossommi @imbaebi @dudekiss3r @bingsoob @ateez-atiny380 @orangyuuuu @notcamii @hueningkaidiehard @slushybeomz @xngelsthesis @dearmynayeon @nikirohas @seungminnieinthebuilding @chronicfic @i-am-not-dal @smileysoobin @snoopyispunk @90steele @milanco @ypoom151999 @moon-gyus @sunhooniez @wonnyy1 @ccoristu @bunniwords @cakefruits @s0urcherry @nabinacht @lovely-maryj

© page-yerin | DO NOT COPY, all rights reserved.

[objectivelyimpermanent]

How to Consume The Apothecary Diaries

TLDR

Web Novel: A Pharmacist's Monologue, 387 chapters. Free in Japanese; English Translate MTL is very easy on-site. HERE.

Light Novel: The Apothecary Diaries. Partially free with an account HERE. Also Google exists. Purchaseable in Kindle/Print. 15 Japanese volumes (approx. 363 WN chapters) and 13/14 English volumes on Kindle (approx. 323/347 WN chapters) or 4/5 English volumes in print (approx. 101/128 WN chapters). Available on Amazon, Ebay, Abebooks, Facebook Marketplace. Use Bookfinder to compare prices.

Manga: x The Apothecary Diaries, ill. by Nekokurage. This illustration style is very similar to the anime. 80 manga chapters have been released. 14 Japanese volumes (74 M1 chapters, approx. 89 WN chapters, approx. 3.75 LN volumes) and 13 English volumes (68 M1 chapters, approx. 83 WN chapters, approx. 3.5 LN volumes). Available on Amazon, Ebay, Abebooks, Facebook Marketplace. Use Bookfinder to compare prices. x Maomao's Notes from the Inner Palace, ill. by Minoji Kurata. This illustration style is similar to the light novel. 84 manga chapters have been released. 19 Japanese volumes (82 M2 chapters, approx. 101 WN chapters, 4 LN volumes). There is no official English release.

Anime: The Apothecary Diaries, 29 episodes and currently airing weekly. 1 full season (42 M1 chapters or 8 volumes, approx. 31 M2 chapters or 7 volumes, approx. 56 WN chapters, 2 LN volumes). Season has 5 aired episodes as of last week (43-49 M1 chapters or volume 9, approx. 32-39 M2 chapters or half volume 8 with full volume 9, approx. 57-68 WN chapters, half LN volume 3). Season 2 will have 24 total episodes totalling to 48 episodes (possibly passing the manga release of 80 M1 chapters or 14 volumes, approx. 82 M2 chapters or 19 volumes, approx. 101 WN chapters, approx. 4 LN volumes). Free with ads on Crunchyroll. Conditionally free without ads with a Crunchyroll subscription or free trial. HERE.

Here's a spreadsheet:

Link

The Specifics

The Web Novel The Apothecary Diaries (or, A Pharmacist's Monologue) is published in Japanese for free as a web novel by Natsuo Hyuuga in 2011 on Shōsetsuka ni Narō [Let's Become a Novelist]. It is still ongoing, and the 387th chapter was published as recently as 5th February 2025. You can access it for free here. The webpages are easy to Google Translate, so if you don't mind MTL, the English translation also is free and easily accessible. To do this, right click anywhere on the webpage and select 'Translate to English'. Additionally, the website has an option to download a PDF of the entire novel. However, this is only in Japanese vertical script, and it is less easy to Google Translate.

The Novel There was a print novel of The Apothecary Diaries illustrated by Megumi Matsuda published in Japanese in 2012. It comprises a single volume, which covers 66 chapters of the web novel (the only chapters that had been released at the time). I am not aware of the availability of any English translation of this novel.

The Light Novel The Apothecary Diaries is being adapted into a light novel written by the same Natsuo Hyuuga and illustrated by Touka Shino. Some chapters are available for free on J-Novel here, but the rest require purchase. There is no legal way to access the full light novel for free. However, I have heard that Googling is easy and very profitable. The Japanese volumes began releasing in 2014. As of February 2025, there are 15 volumes in print, covering approximately 363 chapters of the web novel. The official English language release began in 2024. The English print release is around 3 years behind the Kindle release. As of February 2025, 13 volumes are available on Kindle, covering approximately 323 chapters of the web novel. The 14th volume will be released in May, covering approximately 347 chapters of the web novel. You can find these on Amazon for £6.39 each. As of February 2025, 4 volumes are available in print, covering approximately 101 chapters of the web novel. The 5th volume will be released in May, covering approximately 128 chapters of the web novel. You can find these new on Amazon or Ebay for around £13-17. You can find them secondhand for as low as £9 on Amazon or Abebooks. You can use Bookfinder to compare the prices between book vendors. Additionally, Facebook Marketplace is an underused resource.

The Manga The Apothecary Diaries is being adapted as 2 separate manga series by Itsuki Nanao. I don't know why. There are differences between the adaptations, and there are differing opinions on which one is better; I won't get into that here. I will refer to them separately as The Apothecary Diaries and Maomao's Notes from the Inner Palace. x The Apothecary Diaries is the manga adaptation illustrated by Nekokurage that began releasing in Japanese in 2017. 80 manga chapters have been released as a monthly serial. The illustration style is extremely similar to the anime. There are currently 14 volumes in print in Japanese (up to manga chapter 74), covering approximately 89 chapters of the web novel or 3.75 volumes of the light novel. The official English language release began in 2020. There are currently 13 volumes in print in English (up to manga chapter 68), covering approximately 83 chapters of the web novel or 3.5 volumes of the light novel. The 14th volume will release in October. There are Kindle versions; you can find these on Amazon for £5.65 each. You can find print versions new on Amazon or Ebay for around £10-13. You can find them secondhand for a similar price on Amazon, Ebay, or Abebooks. You can use Bookfinder to compare the prices between book vendors. Additionally, Facebook Marketplace is an underused resource. x Maomao's Notes from the Inner Palace is the manga adaptation illustrated by Minoji Kurata that began releasing in Japanese in 2017. 84 manga chapters have been released as a monthly serial. The illustration style is more similar to the light novel than to the anime. There are currently 19 volumes in print in Japanese (up to manga chapter 82), covering approximately 101 chapters of the web novel or 4 volumes of the light novel. The 20th volume will release in September. There is no official English language release.

The Anime The Apothecary Diaries is being adapted as anime. It has one complete season of 24 episodes, and season 2 is currently airing weekly. Episode 5 was released last week. Season 1 covers approximately 56 chapters of the web novel or 2 volumes of the light novel or 8 volumes of The Apothecary Diaries manga or just over 7 volumes of Maomao's Notes from the Inner Palace. I expect season 2 wholly to cover approximately chapters 57-101 of the web novel or the 3rd and 4th volumes of the light novel, possibly exceeding the currently manga release with the 9th-14th volumes of The Apothecary Diaries manga or the latter half of the 8th volume through the 19th volumes of Maomao's Notes from the Inner Palace. You can access it in dub and sub on Crunchyroll here. It is free with ads. You can watch it without ads by subscribing to Crunchyroll for £4.99/mo. The first subscription on a Crunchyroll account includes a 7 day free trial. This requires you to enter your payment information before granting access. However, if you cancel the trial immediately after subscribing, you will retain access to the subscription services for the remainder of the trial period without worrying about the subscription charging your card at the end.

Edit 250215S: some corrections regarding the length of season 2 of the anime. Thanks to @blur0se for bringing that to my attention.

[simspaghetti]

Took me a while, but I finally sourced the mods I use for Late Night gameplay - you can find the rest of my EP lists all linked here under ‘Modpack Lists’ :)

Firstly, an important note about Bridgeport performance & mods:

Bridgeport is a notoriously unreliable town, I personally only got it to load once I had a big mod cleanout, but I know other people haven't had problems with this, so it seems to be luck of the draw tbh - if you're going to be playing in Bridgeport, I'd recommend limiting your mods to the bare essentials as much as possible - make sure you don't have a whole bunch of script mods installed at once, as that appears to be a contributing factor, and uninstalling resource-heavy mods such as NRAAS Storyprogression has helped others as well - anyways, good luck & I hope you're able to get it to work!

And as always, if you have any other suggestions of mods I should add to this list, please let me know!

With that disclaimer out of the way, onto my modpack for Late Night! ⬇️

EllaCharmed's Fixed Bridgeport

I've heard mixed things about the world fixes, but Bridgeport is so buggy I couldn't get it to work no matter what I tried (I think my mods folder is too big) - some people said this fix worked for them and it's worth a try if you're having issues!

NRAAS Overwatch

This mod is an essential in any sims 3 save - but especially in Bridgeport as cars / sims tend to get stuck way more often!

Faster Elevator Moving / Loading

This can help reduce lag in cities with elevators as normally they take an age

LN Camera Fix

This fixes the issue with the camera in high-rises going all over the place when you're in tab mode, and allows you to control it better - it also removes camera drift & increases the camera lower / maximum placement This mod is incompatible with Aikea Guinea's lower/no drift camera mod - but it has all the same features as that mod, so you can just replace it!

Ani's SimDrinks / 'Get Drunk' Mod / Drunk Walk Version / PhoebeJaySim's Drunk Mod

Gives your sims moodlets / reckless impulsive interactions / mood buffs depending on how much 'juice' they have at the bar, which makes clubbing much more fun imo - the only thing about Ani's mod that's kind of unrealistic is that the moodlets last 24 hours! But for me, the entertainment factor of my sims turning up to work still drunk from the night before is pretty funny, so the length of the moodlet doesn't bother me :P

The 'Drunk Walk' version makes sims walk with the 'pond walk' from Seasons when they have the 'drunk' buff (I'm not sure if seasons is required for this to work, but it might be!)

PhoebeJaySim's Mod is newer and it has quite a few more interactions available!

LazyDuchess's Lot Population Mod

This one is an essential for any town really - but it's especially good in Bridgeport as it means the clubs and so called 'hot spots' actually have other sims in them instead of being completely empty

More Sims in Clubs

You could use this as an alternative to LD's lot population - idk if I'd recommend using them together as it may cause performance issues! It basically means that more sims will show up to party in clubs - making them more realistically populated

New Dance Routines Mod

Adds in new dance interactions for sims, using animations from the sims 4 - sims will do these actions autonomously so it adds in a bit more variety for nightclubs

Subway Charge

Does what it says on the tin, sims now have to pay a variable amount for a subway journey based on their age

Less Space Needed for Sims / playing Bass

Very small fix that reduces routing issues with sims (& specifically issues with playing the bass)

No Stretch 'Children Can' Series

As well as adding a bunch of interactions from other EPs, this mod also allows ur kiddos to play the instruments that come with Late Night, which is my favourite use of this mod (as it makes no sense to me that kids can't learn the piano until they're teenagers!)

Better 'Lifestyle of the Rich & Famous' LTW

Updates this LTW to make the money goal higher and adds in a 5-star celebrity requirement - making it much better for Late Night gameplay

Celebrity Difficulty Mod

Makes becoming a celebrity variably more difficult depending on what version you choose - this also makes the celeb system less annoying as your sims have much less of a chance of accidentially becoming famous This mod also alters what actions are seen as 'disgraceful', so getting divorced or having a child out of wedlock will no longer make your sim be banished from society

Bouncers want bigger bribes

This list is becoming 'how to make your sims lives harder' but that's just how I like to play my game lol I love a struggle - anyway this mod does what it says on the tin - bouncers want higher bribes so your sim genuinely won't be able to get into an exclusive lounge if they're broke (which makes gameplay much more realistic)

Only Papparazzi / Occult can 'Eat Cake' from Cowplant

This mod is really silly, but I love it because it means you can pop a cowplant outside your celebrity houses to act as a bodyguard against paparazzi - which I think is just a really fun feature bc paps are annoying asf and there's not really another way to protect against them lol

🦇Vampire Mods:🦇

sHoNi's Vampire Overhaul

I personally use Bite, Minor Things and Thirst - it alters some things about vampires that used to be small annoyances for me (eg: you now don't have to ask to bite sims, you can just attack them - which makes much more sense!)

Nraas Vampires & Slayers (Storyprogression Module)

Contains a bunch of new 'personalities' for NPC vampires, this basically makes them a bit more dangerous / impactful to the gameplay of your town as NPCs will convert other sims to be vampires etc

Dead People Don't Glow

This stops vampires having that visual 'glow' override that can look kind of weird and yellow/greenish - this mod has been said to work for some peoples games and not others, I have no idea why that is, but it works for me on the most recent patch! I'd recommend putting it in your 'overrides' folder instead of your main 'packages / mods' folder as that appears to make a difference for some if it's not working

Silent Vampire Run & Powers

Turns off the noise for some of the vampire effects - which can get obnoxious / annoying after a while if you're playing with a main sim who's a vampire

Human lifespan for supernatural sims

Some people love the fact that vampires (and other occults) are basically immortal in TS3 - I'm not one of them as I usually play vampires in households with other human sims and it annoys me that they don't age, this mod makes it so that they live a normal lifespan :)

NectarCellar's Vampire CC: Default Replacement Bite & Accessory Fangs

This is not a mod - but I couldn't help but put this CC in here because it really improves the look of Vamps imo!

[astonmartinii]

it's got to be time travel | charles leclerc social media au

pairing: charles leclerc x fem footballer!reader

face claim: jessie fleming (i'm a chelsea fan and i'm sad she left :()

they've got all the time in the world for each other, don't ask them where they got that time from though

note: we're also gonna pretend that the women's football and f1 seasons line up here lol

MASTERLIST | TIP JAR

charles_leclerc

liked by landonorris, lewishamilton and 1,203,784 others

tagged: yourusername

charles_leclerc: last sunday lunch before we both have to go back to work :(

view all comments

user1: ffs why do their ACTUAL jobs have to get in the way of my regularly scheduled charles x y/n content???

user2: i personally think that the fia should just give charles the championship and y/n the WSL title so they can just chill together :)

maxverstappen1: not on my watch

charles_leclerc: you don't even follow me? get out of my comments

maxverstappen1: you can't just get given the championship because you have attachment issues WE ALL HAVE ATTACHMENT ISSUES

charles_leclerc: me i get, but y/n doesn't deserve to win?

maxverstappen1: i never said that. y/n is girlboss slay queen

yourusername: too right i am

charles_leclerc: why are you peace and love with her and not me?

maxverstappen1: she's cool, you aren't

yourusername: can't disagree with that babe soz

user3: i have a feeling that these spats might get worse the longer charles is separated from y/n

user4: waa waa we're all sad their being separated but all i'm thinking is UP THE CHELS

user5: i need the treble right fucking now, a charles championship would be a bonus i guess

lewishamilton: will i get a formal introduction to y/n before we're teammates?

yourusername: YES, YES YOU WILL

charles_leclerc: i guess that answers that

lewishamilton: don't hate the player, hate the game

yourusername: i better see your ass at kingsmeadow at some point, it's fun, even if others think they're too good for it

lewishamilton: i'll be there 🫡

user7: can 2025 come quick.... PLEASE

user8: lol does this mean that charles has offered to take carlos to a game but he didn't go?

user9: ugh what a bore

yourusername

liked by charles_leclerc, oscarpiastri and 1,402,667 others

tagged: chelseafcw

yourusername: excited for the new season back with the girlypops :))))))

view all comments

user10: treble or nothing I BEG

user11: it's their year for the champions league i've seen the script

alexalbon: no seatbelt ? way to set dangerous examples to your young audience

yourusername: if you're not careful i'm gonna teach my audience how to put their foot up the ass of those annoying her

alexalbon: ugh i hope you lose :P

yourusername: i don't have to hope, i know your ass ain't gonna be in q3

alexalbon: that's TOO far @charles_leclerc does our years of friendship mean nothing?

charles_leclerc: sorry buddy, i am y/n stan first, human being second

yourusername: as he should.

user12: so like... will we see charles in a y/n jersey again in the paddock?

user13: @ferrari stop being so annoying and let him wear what he wants

user14: i think i tasted paradise when they actually let him wear a y/n canada jersey in montreal

charles_leclerc: never seen someone make blue look so good

maxverstappen1: i'm right here?

sebastianvettel: did the homoeroticism of our challenge videos mean nothing?

danielricciardo: do not lie to yourself

yourusername: sorry sluts, you wish you looked this good

charles_leclerc: they'll never be you 🫶🏻

user15: i know the cfcw admin and pr department have a heart attack every time y/n posts

user16: the way she's out here calling three f1 drivers sluts with no repercussions

yourusername: can't be told off for telling the TRUTH

f1

liked by lewishamilton, fernandoalo_oficial and 1,205,489 others

tagged: charles_leclerc & yourusername

f1: couple goals! charles leclerc takes pole in bahrain while his girlfriend, y/n y/ln, scored the winner for chelsea women!

view all comments

user19: okay but i've never been in a relationship and am currently rotting on my couch... so who is the real winner here x

yourusername: my handsome boy is so talented :3

charles_leclerc: not as talented as you, pretty girl

yourusername: nuh uh at least my team is competent

charles_leclerc: errrrr

samkerr20: i think you broke him lol

yourusername: sometimes i think he's more loyal to ferrari than me

charles_leclerc: no!

scuderiaferrari: huh?

charles_leclerc: wait...

yourusername: i see :(

charles_leclerc: i'm LOGGING OUT

user20: charles is so lover boy stuck in his tortured poets department (ferrari formula one team)

user21: the way he's probably yelling down the phone to y/n about how much he loves her right now

samkerr20: he is and it's so loud the whole locker room can hear it

yourusername: but he's so sweet isn't he

niamhcharles17: i guess?

alexalbon: we heard it from his side... barf

yourusername: @lilymunhe are you being starved of romance?

lilymunhe: compared to you and charles YES

alexalbon: ummmm get out of my business y/ln

yourusername: you're ALWAYS in my business buster 🤨

alexalbon: NO! i am just passing down the ancient skill of communication?

yourusername: you're such a gossip girl alex

user21: i know they bicker like siblings, but i know deep down that there have been double dates

charles_leclerc: yes, but y/n and i are much better (no offence lily)

yourusername: did you log back in to restart the argument with alex

charles_leclerc: yes!

alexalbon: boo you whore

yourusername: don't talk to him like that 🤨

samkerr20

liked by yourusername, charles_leclerc and 303,445 others

tagged: yourusername & charles_leclerc

samkerr20: forced to hang out with the straights... they're actually kind of cute

view all comments

user22: you know the couple has to be real cute when even the gays think they're cute

user23: no one can resist the charms of y/n and charles

yourusername: these photos make me think that we are cuter

samkerr20: we are but i didn't want to hurt charles' feelings

charles_leclerc: consider them hurt

samkerr20: boo hoo

yourusername: noooooo i love you xxx

charles_leclerc: hehehehehehehe i love you too xxx

yourusername: i miss you, hurry up and win and come home to me

charles_leclerc: i'm doing my best :(

yourusername: you are the bestest boy

samkerr20: STOP THAT MAKES HIM SOUND LIKE A DOG

oscarpiastri: when will australians stop being victims of this relationship

danielricciardo: this is your first season dealing with them properly, buckle up

oscarpiastri: i'm in a relationship but they make me feel so lonely

maxverstappen1: you get used to it after a while

yourusername: we're right here

landonorris: let us commiserate in peace

charles_leclerc: ??? do you or do you not get free football tickets out of it?

landonorris: yeha but when we go we just have to watch you cry when y/n inevitably wins another trophy

charles_leclerc: I'M PROUD OF HER AND YOU WON'T SHAME ME FOR THAT

user24: chelsea women players must be so confused when these grown men start arguments in the comments of THEIR posts

yourusername

liked by alexalbon, charles_leclerc and 1,529,556 others

tagged: charles_leclerc

yourusername: weekend off... you know what that means

view all comments

user25: i know there's over 1.5 million likes but how can i gatekeep y/n?

user26: for real

charles_leclerc: the best weekends are with you here

yourusername: i may have a love/hate relationship with this team, but the catering is banging (i may have to move to italy)

chelseafcw: NO MENTIONS OF LEAVING CHELSEA, NOT EVEN A JOKE - NOTHING!

yourusername: okay, sorry guys (the pasta was so good though)

charles_leclerc: not even for me?

chelseafcw: DEFINITELY NOT FOR YOU, WATCH OUT OR WE'LL BLACKLIST YOU FROM KINGSMEADOW

yourusername: okay, let's pedal this back. i'm not leaving london and we all still love charles, right admin?

chelseafcw: .... yes

user27: when you're in a who has attachment issues with y/n y/ln and your competition is the chelseafcw admin and charles leclerc

user28: no point even showing up

maxverstappen1: i for one am glad when y/n is in the paddock because it means i can sneak in without the cameras seeing me

yourusername: i am a woman of the people

charles_leclerc: she's such a star, everyone wants to see her

maxverstappen1: yeah i'll give you that

yourusername: we're also hot

charles_leclerc: don't you dare respond to that one max

maxverstappen1: 🫡🫡🫡

user29: patiently waiting for the hq photos of them 😚

user30: gonna print them out and put them in my heart locket

charles_leclerc

liked by landonorris, yourusername and 1,398,452 others

tagged: yourusername

charles_leclerc: babe is top of the league (and top scorer)

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user33: get yourself a guy who flexes your achievements as much as charles does

user34: setting the example tbf

yourusername: my lucky charm, that hat-trick was for you xx

charles_leclerc: would mean more if you didn't score them every week 😭

yourusername: they hate to see a girlboss winning

charles_leclerc: wanna share some wins with me?

yourusername: you're doing great this season babe, not your fault that nasa decided to rebrand to red bull racing

redbullracing: adrian says thanks 😊

charles_leclerc: DON'T SAY IT Y/N

yourusername: you don't even know what i was going to say

charles_leclerc: ....

yourusername: @redbullracing you got a seat???

charles_leclerc: Y/N!!!!!!!!!!

yourusername: whoops

user35: y/n really out here trying to get charles that damn seat

yourusername: i'll stop when the horse team makes a championship worthy car that they don't break halfway through the season...

user36: add ferrari to the group of people who shudder in fear when y/n posts

chelseafcw: fine... we hope you enjoyed (no more italy jokes)

charles_leclerc: i had a great time, i always do when i watch y/n do what she loves (slay)

yourusername: awwwwwwwwww i love you charlie

chelseafcw: okay no need to make admin feel that lonely, damn

yourusername

liked by charles_leclerc, alexalbon and 1,782,309 others

yourusername: finishing my best ever season with a big trophy haul :) now time to support my trophy husband in his day job

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user41: she really be out here doing it all

user42: i need her to win the Ballon d'Or Féminin PLEASE IT IS TIME

user43: with charles in attendance, first couples red carpet appearance YES, YES RUN IT TO ME PLEASE

charles_leclerc: unbelievably proud of you, mon amour, constantly inspired by you

yourusername: i love you so much, thank you for being there to support me through it all

charles_leclerc: it's the biggest pleasure in the world

yourusername: i'm all out of winning this season, your turn next weekend?

charles_leclerc: for you, i'll do anything

user44: PLEASE I NEED HIM TO WIN GOOD PLEASE

alexalbon: congrats i guess, you're pretty good

yourusername: thanks, since my boyf is so supportive, it's only natural that you have to try and humble me at every turn

alexalbon: you're more famous than us now, we need to keep you grounded

lilymunhe: don't worry y/n he cried nearly just as much as charles when you won the WSL

yourusername: I KNEW IT

charles_leclerc: i still cried more

alexalbon: it's not a competition bro, we all know you're both helplessly in love

yourusername: that we are

charles_leclerc

liked by maxverstappen1, yourusername and 1,309,855 others

tagged: yourusername

charles_leclerc: happiest when i'm with you (and whoever has decided to tag along), oh and winning a race helps as well i guess

view all comments

user45: CHARLES WIN I REPEAT A CHARLES WIN WE WON?

user46: the way y/n went just as mental as us, her and zecira jumping around the garage (and starting the champagne shower after the podium)

user47: really proving that y/n and charles really are each other's biggest fans

user48: thank the lord the WSL season finished when it did so y/n could be there for this win

user49: y/n would've ran to austria to be there i'm sure

yourusername: you know it 🫡

maxverstappen1: had to let you win so you could look cool in front of your infinitely cooler girlfriend

charles_leclerc: not even gonna bite, i'm too happy to care

yourusername: i'll bite - HIS TALENTED BEHIND SCHOOLED YOUR ASS

maxverstappen1: but i called you cool?

yourusername: i'll accept the compliment now, i had to defend charles' honour first

charles_leclerc: heheheehe i'm blushing

maxverstappen1: gross

user50: i need y/n to permanently be in the ferrari garage, they were on it today (i think out of fear)

landonorris: damn i thought i thirdwheeling lestappen was bad, but y/n and charles is a different beast

yourusername: we're both athletes, need to savour the time we have together when we can

charles_leclerc: sorry not sorry you'll get it when you're in love

landonorris: .... i guess i'll die then

fin.

note: i hope you enjoyed !!!! one last WIP to go and good lord the writers block is kicking my ass. but f1 being back should help!!! + f1 academy, much enjoyed it so far.

[throttleheart]

⸻ ⸻ ⸻

In Sickness, ln Health, In Monaco

Pairing: Lando Norris x Oscar Piastri

Genre: Smut, NSFW, 18+!!!

Word Count: 4.2k

Summary: 2025 Monaco McLaren Livery reveal doubles as a PR wedding apparently, it’s not like Lando and Oscar are complaining.

Masterlist

⸻

The Mediterranean sun was obscene.

Blinding, hot, perfect. The kind of glow that made everything look like it had been dipped in champagne. The kind of weather Lando Norris would call “honeymoon lighting” if he weren’t already too busy twirling on the deck of a yacht like a freshly wed spouse showing off his name stitched in cursive across his back.

Lando.

It glistened on the dark McLaren suit, a soft, elegant script that looked way too romantic for a motorsport context. Way too much like a wedding gift. Like something you’d find on a pair of matching bathrobes that read Mr. & Mr.

“Can’t believe they actually let us wear these,” Lando giggled, spinning on the ball of his foot, arms thrown out. “We look like we just eloped in Monaco and used the pit wall as a witness.”

Behind him, Oscar was leaning against the polished chrome of the yacht railing, arms crossed, sunglasses perched dangerously low on his nose. His own suit read Oscar, just as dramatically, just as elegant. But somehow, it was giving groom. The kind of groom that would dip his husband in front of a camera and whisper threats in a five-star hotel suite.

“You say that like it wasn’t your idea,” Oscar smirked. “I told you they’d embroider anything if you bribed the PR chief.”

Lando grinned. “She’s got good taste. And a soft spot for whipped boys in love.”

Oscar made a low noise in his throat. “Don’t tempt me while you’re wearing that.”

And that was the problem, wasn’t it?

They both looked dangerously married.

Not in a “soft honeymoon in Santorini” way—no, in a “we’re going to christen every room of this yacht before sundown” kind of way. The suits were tighter than usual. The belt hung just a little too low on Lando’s waist. The name “Oscar” arched beautifully across the broad back and Lando kept staring at it like it was a promise.

They had the same gloves, the same fire suit, the same everything—and yet Lando couldn’t stop bouncing around like he’d just thrown rice and kissed the groom on the grid.

“I’m serious,” Oscar muttered, voice dangerously close to Lando’s ear now. “You keep flaunting around like this and I’m gonna have to do something about it.”

Lando turned with a dramatic gasp, hand on his chest. “On our wedding yacht? You wouldn’t dare.”

Oscar arched a brow. “I would. And you’d love it.”

The worst part? He would.

Lando didn’t respond—not with words, anyway. Instead, he slowly unzipped the top half of his race suit, letting it hang off his waist like an invitation. Underneath, a tight black fireproof shirt clung to every curve of his torso.

Oscar didn’t even try to hide the way his eyes darkened.

“You’re such a menace,” he growled.

“And you love it,” Lando sing-songed, backing toward the lower deck stairs. “Come on, husband. Don’t leave your newlywed waiting.”

Oscar followed with slow, deadly steps. “You’re going to regret that tone later.”

“I better.”

That was the entire point. A sharp, sleek, sunlit photoshoot by the Monaco harbour. Matching McLaren suits, chrome reflections, pastel blue accents, and the kind of lighting photographers sell their souls for. All Oscar and Lando had to do was stand next to the car, maybe smirk a little, give the marketing team something to work with.

What they were doing, instead, was laughing.

Endlessly.

Lando kept leaning too far into Oscar’s side. Oscar kept murmuring things under his breath that made Lando giggle uncontrollably. Every time a camera clicked, one of them was either blinking, smirking too much, or mid-eye-roll because the other had done something dumb like whisper “you look like my hot husband” right before the shutter.

The team was trying to be professional about it. Really, they were. But the photographer had to pause every few minutes to recompose.

And the new McLaren race suits? Didn’t help. Elegant. Crisp. With their first names embroidered in romantic cursive on the back, Lando and Oscar.

It looked less like a team launch and more like wedding portraits.

“Okay, now a serious one,” the photographer pleaded.

Oscar tilted his head and muttered, “We’ll never survive the reception.”

Lando broke into giggles again, swaying into Oscar’s side.

Off to the edge of the yacht setup, the new social media intern blinked behind her phone camera, filming the behind-the-scenes footage like her life depended on it. She wasn’t supposed to post anything unapproved, but… the footage looked good. No, not good—cinematic. Like something out of a love story.

And more importantly, it looked real.

⸻

@/mclaren

📍 Monaco

🎥 Behind the scenes with our boys in the sunshine ☀️

💬 Just married. Just fast. 💍🧡

[Video: Lando laughing with his head thrown back, Oscar nudging his hip playfully, the sun turning both of them into gods. Slow-mo of Lando adjusting Oscar’s suit collar. A moment where Oscar says something too quiet for the mic but Lando’s ears go pink. A laugh. A touch too long on the hand. A moment too soft to be edited out.]

⸻

The World: Unhinged.

The comments exploded.

@/fan4life: THAT’S NOT TEAMMATE BEHAVIOUR THAT’S “I HELD YOUR HAND UNDER THE TABLE AT DINNER” BEHAVIOUR

@/motorsportwife: just married???? excuse me???? IS THIS A SOFT LAUNCH OR A HARD ONE

@/gossipgrid: are we witnessing the secret wedding era of Lando & Oscar??? the way he looks at him???

@/pitwalltea: I will NOT be normal about the suit adjusting scene. Do you know how intimate that is???

@/slayraceadmin: intern’s getting promoted AND sued. worth it.

The TikToks came next. Edits, ship accounts resurrected from the dead, even fanfic recs going viral. The video hit 5 million views in two hours.

And somewhere, in a quiet corner of a luxury Monaco hotel suite, Lando was pacing.

“Oscar. Oscar. They posted the behind-the-scenes.”

Oscar, flat on the bed with a half-buttoned linen shirt and zero panic, replied, “Yeah. I saw.”

Lando whirled. “They said just married.”

“They weren’t wrong.”

“We’re not—” Lando stopped, flustered. “We’re not public. We’re not even—Oscar, we haven’t even told Zak.”

Oscar raised a brow. “He knows.”

Lando blinked. “He what?”

“He asked me if I was ‘keeping you happy,’ and I said yes. He winked.”

Lando collapsed onto the bed with a groan. “This is a PR nightmare.”

“It’s a PR honeymoon,” Oscar corrected, turning to him. “Besides, we didn’t kiss. We didn’t do anything.”

“I adjusted your collar!”

“And you blushed.”

“Shut up.”

Oscar grinned and rolled over, pinning Lando with a look that was a little too smug, a little too fond. “If we were married,” he murmured, nose brushing Lando’s, “you’d be the one who ruined the photo album with giggles.”

“You’d be the one who called me hot while the camera was on.”

Oscar shrugged. “Guilty.”

Lando bit his lip. “What if this… gets worse?”

Oscar leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to Lando’s cheek. “Then we hide in Monaco, hold hands under the table, and kiss behind closed doors.”

“And if that intern posts another video?”

Oscar smiled. “Then we pretend we’re actors in a very romantic engagement rings sponsorship ad.”

Lando paused. “…Is it bad that I kinda love it?”

Oscar’s voice was quiet, certain. “I love you.”

The cameras weren’t rolling anymore. But if they had been—God help the internet.

⸻

Twitch Stream Title: “lads, not lovebirds” ft. oscarpiastri 

Viewer count: 132,000 and rising.

⸻

Lando leans into frame first, headset slightly crooked, hair damp from a rushed post-shower. He smiles—bright, a little guilty.

“Alright, alright,” he begins. “Let’s talk about it. The video. The caption. The chaos.”

Oscar appears beside him, perfectly calm with a drink in hand, wearing one of Lando’s hoodies (“coincidence,” he’ll say later, poorly).

“Nothing’s going on,” Lando says, too quickly.

Oscar blinks. “With what?”

Lando throws him a look. “The video, Oscar. The marriage thing.”

Oscar nods. “Oh, right. We’re not married.”

“We’re teammates.”

“We’re friends.”

“Best friends.”

“Very best.”

Lando clears his throat. “And sometimes, we—y’know—adjust each other’s collars. For aesthetic reasons.”

Oscar sips his drink. “And because I care that you look good.”

“…That’s not helping.”

Oscar shrugs.

⸻

The chat explodes:

@/landoismytherapy: BEST FRIENDS DON’T LOOK AT EACH OTHER LIKE THAT

@/racehusbands: OSCAR. THE HOODIE. THE COLLAR. THE EYE CONTACT.

@/mclarenapproved: This is not damage control this is a WEDDING VIDEO COMMENTARY

@/twitchmod6: chat stop proposing to them they are not legally married (yet)

⸻

Lando tries again. “Anyway. It was a cute caption. The intern got excited. No big deal.”

Oscar glances at him, smirking. “You did blush, though.”

Lando turns red. “Stop!”

“I thought it was cute.”

“You thought I was cute.”

Oscar shrugs again, still calm. “I do think you’re cute.”

Lando freezes. “Oscar.”

“What?”

Lando leans off-screen like he’s buffering in real life. “You’re not helping the narrative.”

“What is the narrative?”

Lando glares. “That we’re not together.”

Oscar tilts his head. “But we are.”

Silence.

⸻

@/feralfans: HELLO????

@/accidentalsoftlaunch: NOT THEM COMING OUT IN 4K HD

@/thisisnotplatonic: did we just get CONFIRMATION LIVE

@/landofthewives: i need everyone to act normal so i can rewatch this 70 times

⸻

Lando covers his face, groaning. “We were supposed to clear this up.”

Oscar sets down his drink. “Well, technically we did. We’re not married.”

“Yet.”

Oscar grins. “Exactly.”

Lando turns back to the camera, cheeks pink, sighing dramatically. “Alright. Fine. Surprise. We’re in love. We suck at lying. Happy now?”

The chat explodes. Hearts, ring emojis, chaos.

Oscar looks at Lando like he hung the stars. “You said it.”

“You wore my hoodie.”

Oscar leans into him, their heads almost touching. “Want to kiss on stream?”

Lando looks scandalized. “Oscar!”

Oscar smirks, whispering: “You’re lucky I didn’t post the hotel bed photo.”

Lando shoves him hard off-frame.

⸻

The stream ends abruptly.

New social media caption (same intern, now completely rogue):

💬 “Damage control failed. Wedding pending.” 💍✨

⸻

It starts with a tweet.

From the McLaren official account, no less.

@/mclaren

📍 Monaco

📸 Coming soon: the wedding shoot you didn’t know you needed. 💍🧡 #RaceHusbands #MonacoMoments

Attached: a blurry teaser photo—Oscar adjusting Lando’s tie. Lando, grinning like the sun’s only shining for him. Oscar, in a sleek suit with an orange boutonnière. Hands too close. Eye contact criminal.

The internet dies, for the sixth time that week.

⸻

Monaco. Yacht harbor. McLaren has rented a small, tasteful venue with marble steps, sunset lighting, and—somehow—a full floral arch.

“They’re not actually getting married,” one of the PR girls is heard whispering. “Right?”

“Right.” the other PR girl replies.

⸻

Lando straightens his tie and glances at the mirror, adjusting the cuff of his crisp white shirt.

“This is insane,” he says, voice light with disbelief. “We’re actually doing this.”

Oscar, standing behind him in a fitted tux with an orange-lined pocket square, raises a brow. “You agreed.”

“I agreed to lean into a joke, not walk into a fake altar.”

Oscar steps closer, straightening Lando’s lapel with agonizing tenderness. “Bit late now. We’ve got cake.”

“You requested cake.”

“I wanted a prop.”

“You requested a specific flavor.”

“…Okay, yes. Red velvet fits the theme.”

Lando tries not to smile. Fails.

⸻

“Okay, boys, face each other. Hands around the waist. Pretend you’re getting married.” the photographer says.

Lando laughs. “Pretend, she says.”

Oscar grins, eyes locked on him. “You pretending?”

“Are you?”

Neither answers. The camera shutter clicks like thunder in a quiet chapel.

⸻

Backstage, while changing into the “just married” champagne-toned version of the suits (yes, there’s a second look), Oscar’s holding a small velvet box.

“You’re not—”

“Relax,” Oscar interrupts. “It’s cufflinks. Custom ones. Your initials. I’m not that dramatic.”

Lando raises a brow. “Yet.”

Oscar shrugs. “Give me time.”

⸻

“Now, Lando, hold his face like you’re about to kiss. Closer. Closer.”

Their foreheads touch. Lando’s fingers skim Oscar’s cheek.

“You’re blushing,” Lando whispers.

“You’re trembling,” Oscar murmurs back.

“This is for Instagram.”

“Say that again, with more conviction.”

Another click. The flash glints off Lando’s ring finger. No ring. Yet.

⸻

Instagram Post by McLaren (intern fully unhinged now):

@/mclaren

📍 Monaco

💬 “Wedding season starts in Monaco. Guests: 132,000 Twitch viewers. Vows: pending.”

📸: [8-photo carousel]

Slide 1: Lando looking at Oscar like the world stops for him.

Slide 2: Oscar fixing Lando’s tie with a tiny, secret smile.

Slide 3: The almost-kiss.

Slide 4: The cake. With a topper of two tiny cars crashing into each other.

Slide 5: Holding hands with matching cufflinks.

Slide 6: The forehead touch.

Slide 7: The “just married” shot under the floral arch.

Slide 8: A blurred behind-the-scenes frame—Lando leaning into Oscar’s chest, laughing.

⸻

Everyone goes feral.

@/softlaunchcentral: EXCUSE ME THEY’RE REALLY DOING THIS????

@/twitchwives: that’s not a photoshoot that’s a PRENUP

@/oscarlando4life: LANDO’S HAND WAS ON HIS WAIST I’M UNWELL

@/mclarencouplesedition: if this is the joke, i hope they never stop laughing

⸻

“marriage of convenience (for clout)” ft. oscarpiastri

143K viewers

The stream starts with Lando and Oscar sitting next to each other on a hotel couch.

“We did the shoot. You happy now?” Lando says while clapping his hands, looking a bit too smug for someone who has to pretend this is a PR stunt.

“You wore the boutonnière willingly.” Oscar barely finishes saying before Lando shoves the younger’s arm from his shoulders.

“You called me husband off-camera.”

“Off-camera doesn’t mean off-the-record.”

⸻

@/f1ringside: WHAT DO YOU MEAN HUSBAND

@/landoissotaken: i’m crying in the club in a tux

@/oscarswife: guys pride month was two months

@/iliveforthis: this is the best PR stunt in history or the worst coming out and i love it

⸻

End stream.

The world accepts the “wedding”. No one confirms it. No one denies it.

And Lando? He just posts a story later that night.

It’s a blurry hotel selfie, with Oscar’ head no his shoulder. The caption: “He said yes… to the matching cufflinks.”

⸻

The season ends like something out of a dream.

Champagne in his eyes, confetti in his curls, Lando lets himself laugh — really laugh — as Oscar lifts the trophy overhead, light catching on the gold like a spotlight. The McLaren garage explodes behind them. The team’s screaming. Zak’s crying. And just off to the side, behind a hospitality tent where no cameras dare linger, Lando kisses him.

Soft. Fast. Just once.

Oscar kisses back harder.

Then two weeks disappear.

Gone. Vanished. Buried in flight itineraries that don’t match their passports. They’re ghosts, almost. Hidden under borrowed names and oversized sunglasses. Their bags are light. Their bones, heavy with everything they’ve been holding back all year.

The destination? Unlisted. Just coordinates and salt in the air.

Their resort is tucked behind a jungle-draped cove, where the ocean turns every hour between sapphire and storm. They get a bungalow built into the rocks, with white curtains that dance in the breeze and a private pool Lando canonically cannonballs into within the first ten minutes. There’s no staff unless they call. No press. No fans. No schedule.

No pretending.

Just tan lines, sandy sheets, and Lando’s freckled legs draped lazily across Oscar’s lap while he scrolls through film presets.

⸻

They take photos for fun.

At first, it’s just lighthearted. Lando balancing a coconut on his head. Oscar half out of frame, frowning at a crab. But it shifts—inevitably.

Oscar gets serious about angles. He adjusts his focus with deliberate care, catching Lando in windows, mirrors, shadows. Lando teases him for it, calls him artsy boy with a grin that doesn’t quite hide the pink crawling up his neck.

But then one evening, the sky melts into gold and Oscar kneels in the sand like it’s instinct. The lens aimed just slightly upward.

“Stand there,” Oscar murmurs, barely audible over the tide. “Don’t move. Yeah—just like that.”

Lando obeys. Barefoot. Hair sun-flattened and still damp from a swim. The light makes him look unreal.

Oscar doesn’t post that picture. Not yet.

Lando does, though. That night. No caption. Just soft color grading and the curve of his jaw framed by sky.

Oscar uploads a photo too—a shot of the ocean at dusk. If you squint, there’s a silhouette in the distance. Human-shaped. Curled in a lounge chair with a book he’s been pretending to read for days.

They think they’ve been subtle.

They haven’t.

⸻

The first night, they take their time.

It’s slow. Gentle. Oscar pushes Lando into the mattress like he’s afraid he’ll vanish. Kisses down his chest like he’s memorizing him. Lando trembles. Gasps. Fists the sheets and whispers please into Oscar’s shoulder like he means it for everything they’ve been afraid to want.

The second night is messier. Sweat-slicked. Hungrier. Lando claws at him. Oscar bites his neck. They fall asleep tangled, bruised in places no one will see.

The third?

The third is when Lando takes control.

⸻

It starts in the outdoor shower. The water’s warm. The night’s warmer. Their skin already flushed from too much sun and not enough restraint.

Lando steps into Oscar’s space with lazy confidence. Hips swaying. Eyes half-lidded.

“You gonna just stare or—?” he hums, voice syrupy and slick.

Oscar grunts softly, hands coming up to cup Lando’s thighs. His grip is sure. Grounding. Lando leans into him.

And then—

Then Lando jumps, wrapping his legs around Oscar’s waist like he was made for it. He presses close, hot chest to chest, and captures Oscar’s mouth in a kiss that tastes like salt and heat and yes.

Oscar’s hands slide beneath his thighs, supporting him effortlessly as Lando settles over his cock, slow and shaking and fuck, warm. The water beats down around them, cascading in rhythm with their breath.

“Shit—” Lando gasps, head dropping against Oscar’s shoulder as he sinks fully, jaw slack. “God, you—fuck.

Oscar groans, taking the lead and sitting down on the bamboo bench in the huge shower. One hand gripping Lando’s waist tight enough to bruise. The other finding the back of his neck, grounding him as he pulses deep inside.

“You’re unreal,” Oscar murmurs against the shell of his ear. “You feel—Christ, Lando—don’t hide from me.”

“I’m not,” Lando whispers, voice wrecked. “Just—need a second.”

But he doesn’t wait.

He lifts himself with a roll of his hips and drops back down with a strangled moan, water spraying between them, skin slipping against skin. The shower fills with the sound of Lando’s panting, the wet slap of movement, the tremble in Oscar’s voice as he begs him to slow down—or don’t, fuck, don’t stop.

Lando rides him like it’s holy. Like the way Oscar says his name is scripture. Like the look in his eyes is something Lando’s waited his whole life to see.

“Close—so close,” Lando gasps, head tipping back, curls dripping, thighs trembling where they grip around Oscar’s waist.

Oscar cups his jaw, brings their foreheads together.

“Look at me,” he says, voice rough and reverent. “I want to watch you fall apart.”

And Lando does.

With a breathless cry that breaks in the middle. With his nails digging into Oscar’s shoulders. With his orgasm crashing over him like the sea. Oscar thrusts up into him once—twice—then groans deep into his neck, coming hard and still holding Lando like he’s something fragile. Precious.

They stay like that for a while. Quiet. Water washing over them. Steam curling around the edges of something they can’t name but both feel.

⸻

The ring comes on a hike.

It’s too hot. They’re sweating. Lando’s shirtless and swinging a stick like it’s a sword. Oscar’s grumbling about bug spray and dehydration. But then—Lando turns.

He says something stupid. A joke, probably. His face flushed, eyes bright, curls a mess.

Oscar forgets how to breathe.

“You’re staring,” Lando smirks, cheeky and golden and his.

Oscar just nods. Getting on one knee.

Then pulls the ring from his pocket and holds it out without ceremony. Just a tiny velvet box and a heart beating far too fast.

“So…” he says, soft, “what if this was the announcement?”

Lando blinks. Laughs. Thinks he’s joking.

“You’re serious?” he asks, wide-eyed, voice shaking.

Oscar nods. “I wasn’t planning to. But I’m not waiting either.”

Lando kisses him like it’s the last thing he’ll ever do. They tumble into the grass, laughing and crying, and the ring vanishes somewhere in the chaos.

(It’s found five minutes later tangled in Lando’s curls.)

⸻

The Instagram posts happen later.

Not a soft launch. Not even a plan.

Just blurry sun-drenched glimpses. Toes in the sand. A reflection in sunglasses. The same sunset posted an hour apart. One drink. Then two.

No tags. No location.

But the fans?

Oh, they know.

⸻

Under Lando’s post:

@/piastriposse: THAT’S OSCAR’S LEG I’M GONNA THROW UP

@/softlaunchdetective: this is a SHARED TOWEL. a SHARED RING. we are so BACK

@/landofthewives: NOT HIM WEARING OSCAR’S CHAMPIONSHIP HAT IN THE REFLECTION. DO THEY THINK WE’RE BLIND??

⸻

Under Oscar’s post:

@/feralfansunited: lando’s shoulder freckle. i’ve memorized it. i know

@/f1softlaunch: those are lando’s toes. i’d bet my life on it.

@/oscaroflove: so… honeymoon. not to be weird but. wedding when?

⸻

Lando’s scrolling in bed, snorting into the pillow. Oscar’s beside him, shirtless, ring on his finger, sipping something cold.

“We’re so shit at hiding,” Lando says, laughing.

Oscar shrugs, grinning. “Do you care?”

Lando thinks about the ring around his finger. The picture of Oscar looking at him like he hung the fucking sun. The quiet way they’ve stopped pretending.

He turns, kisses Oscar slow. Long. Like a promise.

“No,” he murmurs. “Not anymore.

Oscar smiles into his mouth. “Good. Because I’m not hiding when you’re mine.”

Lando hums. “Guess we’re married now.”

Oscar runs his thumb over Lando’s cheekbone. “More like engaged, we’ll need to plan the wedding when we get back home, Lan.”

And maybe it wasn’t supposed to be the announcement.

But god—maybe it was everything else.

⸻

January 2026 — Media Day, Hell Edition

They walk in holding hands.

Not in some dramatic, press-stunt way. Just like they always do now—fingers laced, easy and worn-in, like the world hasn’t made it their business yet. But it has.

And it’s obvious the press hasn’t moved on.

Not even close.

The cameras flash like lightning. Reporters lean forward like wolves catching a scent. And even though they’ve been public for over a month—ever since that quiet Instagram post with Lando’s hand on Oscar’s cheek, the sunset, the soft caption (“finally feels like home”)—the media still wants blood.

The first half of the press conference is manageable. Race prep. New car upgrades. Blah blah. But everyone’s just waiting.

Then someone finally asks the question they’ve been tiptoeing around like it’s not sitting in the front row.

“Now that you’re publicly dating, how do you plan to handle the inevitable breakup? Won’t that destroy the team dynamic?”

Oscar freezes.

Lando lets out a slow, disbelieving breath.

“Wow,” Lando says, eyebrows raised. “Starting the year off strong, huh?”

Oscar’s voice is razor-edged calm. “We plan on not breaking up, actually. Revolutionary concept.”

The reporter doesn’t back down. “But it’s inevitable, isn’t it? Relationships end. Especially under pressure. Especially when you’re teammates. What happens then? How does the team recover?”

Lando doesn’t blink. “You ask that kind of question to the drivers with wives and kids, or just us?”

“Just you,” Oscar adds, dry as sand. “Clearly.”

Another voice cuts in.

“Some fans think this is all a publicity thing. Or that it’s messing with your focus.”

Oscar tilts his head. “Strange. Didn’t mess with my pole position last month.”

Lando nods slowly. “Didn’t mess with his reaction time either. On track or in bed.”

A stunned silence. A few cameras click.

Oscar sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose, muttering, “Oh my god, Lando.”

“Sorry,” Lando whispers, but he’s not.

One woman calls out with a fake-sweet smile:

“You don’t worry about being too… public? Some say it’s a bit performative.”

Oscar deadpans, “You mean existing while gay?”

The room shifts. Uncomfortable. Tight.

Lando’s voice is low, but sharp enough to cut. “We don’t owe you neat little soundbites about our relationship. It’s real. We love each other. If that’s distracting for you, that’s a you problem.”

More questions keep coming. Ones wrapped in concern, but barbed with judgment.

“What if one of you underperforms? Will the other one be blamed?”

“Are you afraid of emasculating the sport?”

“What do you say to young fans who might be… confused by this?”

Oscar’s jaw clenches. “Confused by what? Two men caring about each other? Being happy?”

Lando stares dead into the cameras. “If a kid sees us and feels a little less scared about being themselves—then good. Let them be confused. Let them ask questions. That’s how people learn.”

The PR team cuts it short. Mercifully.

Back in the motorhome, Lando sinks into the sofa and exhales hard, like he’s been holding his breath all morning.

Oscar paces, chewing the edge of his thumbnail. “They’re just going to keep pushing. They don’t want us happy. They want us apologizing for it.”

Lando looks up, eyes tired but steady. “Let them.”

Oscar stops. Turns.

“We’re not here to make them comfortable,” Lando says. “We’re here to win. And to be us. If that’s too much for them, they’re in the wrong damn job.”

Oscar sits beside him, and Lando laces their fingers together again. This time tighter. Not soft. Not for show.

Just to feel anchored.

Because yeah—this season’s going to be hell.

But they’re in it together.

And that still makes it worth it.

⸻ ⸻ ⸻

Masterlist

[redclercs]

DELICATE✰CHARLES LECLERC.

xv. he was sunshine, i was midnight rain

— the one where you broke his heart 'cause he was nice.

❝𝘞𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘥𝘪𝘥 𝘸𝘦 𝘨𝘰 𝘸𝘳𝘰𝘯𝘨? 𝘐 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘸𝘦 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘳𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘢𝘭𝘳𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵. 𝘞𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘥𝘪𝘥 𝘸𝘦 𝘨𝘰 𝘸𝘳𝘰𝘯𝘨? 𝘖𝘩, 𝘥𝘪𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘥? 𝘏𝘰𝘸 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘥? 𝘞𝘩𝘰 𝘨𝘰𝘵 𝘪𝘯𝘴𝘪𝘥𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘥?❞ —𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐘, 𝟏𝟑.

warnings: angst, not proofread and pls go easy on me i'm coming out of the worst block everrrrrrrrrr. our girlie is making poor choices pls hate her a bit for it, the last bit is charles centered. 2.23k words (+articles!)

masterlist ✢ next

by Tom Gill

The worst time to have a carreer on Public Relations is when your client is as unhinged as y/n y/ln has proven to be. Many people, myself included, can't help but feel sorry for whoever is on her team because there's only so much someone can do to put out a fire when the person burning is the same one who keeps lighting the matches.

y/n just can't stop messing up, can she? Just when her fans thought she would rise from the ashes with an outstanding movie deal, the 'Queen of Romcoms' has to go ahead and mess things up by proving that people who aren't blinded by her master manipulations are right: y/n y/ln is in fact a cheating snake.

The Deuxmoi post talking about an actress involved with a Formula 1 driver and her presence at the Italian Grand Prix last Sunday are enough confirmation of the fact. y/n is not ashamed to be seen on broad daylight with the guy that broke off her engagement.

Don't kill the messenger, y/n fans. Aidan Kim and Victoria Presley did warn you.

New York, United States, September 10th.

It feels like you've just finished unpacking when you find yourself throwing stuff in a suitcase once again. There is little to none excitement in you as you decide between a couple of blouses and recite Amy's lines outloud inside your messy apartment.

"Wait—that's not right," you huff, unaware that you've let the blouse you like the least inside the suitcase. The lines slip your mind like butter on a pan. Honestly, you've started to wonder if several of your braincells died in the past month. Nothing other than 'I want to be great or nothing' seem to have stuck. So much for how well that single line applies to your life.

"'It looks like it's never done a day of work in its life'," you mutter, picking the script up from the dining table. You have studied it a million times, gone through lines and rehearsals and a thousand other things. You have called Greta and Timothée and Saoirse and they have called you on their own accord to agree the accurate tones of scenes and interactions, and yet you are sure you are still going to mess everything up once the camera starts rolling. "God, help me."

The clock on your phone tells you it's 9:30 a.m. and you are nowhere being done with your luggage. Also, Charles' plane lands in less than an hour and you are not making it to the airport in time. He has a busy month race-wise and he has still made some time to come to New York before you leave for Boston in a couple days and you are both turned upside down with the Asian race-tour.

There is one reason—and one reason only— that Mildred has agreed that you should have these two days off. That reason is not Charles Leclerc, given the fact that she has grown to hate him even if she can admit, albeit to herself only, that he has done nothing wrong. You are supposed to be preparing more interviews and then a prolonged stage of silence while you focus on filming Little Women. Mildred has a whole plan laid out and that is another script you have to follow. No improvisations though, you have been warned.

─────────

Time has a funny way of passing by when it comes to Charles and yourself. Your whole relationship feels contained in a moment and also in a century, and every time you see each other again, even after just a few days a whole other bubble of time seems to have passed. You think it's Charles' way of making it feel special, making you feel special by looking at you like you're a part of him he's constantly missing when you're not right next to him. A 'lovesick fool' you have heard him been nicknamed by people who try to be nice, at least a little bit. Others sneer at how they can't wait for the 'honeymoon phase' to be over.

And it's precisely the way he looks at you before he's crushing you against his chest that makes you hold your tongue for the rest of the day. You cannot bring yourself to tell him the plan the people around you have made without asking for your input—much lesser his— to salvage your career and your reputation.

It nags at you how stupid you're being. Maybe some part of your brain did die between Sunday and today, but you are certain you won't be able to bear the disappointment in Charles' eyes when he finds out what you agreed to.

This visit is less touristy than the last time Charles came to New York. He's leaving tomorrow and you, the day after for Boston, so you want to bask in each other's company as much as possible. You go to a cupcake place and take pictures, all while Charles re-tells everything people have said about his win on Sunday. He's become even more of the Golden Boy he already was in the eyes of Ferrari fans, and you feel love swell in your chest at the fact. You love that he's loved, there's nothing he deserves more than to be loved.

"Will you show me the script now?" Charles asks, taking his light jacket off as he crosses the door to your apartment. A slight feeling of embarrassment flashes through you when you focus on the different disasters around the house but Charles either doesn't notice or doesn't mind as he makes himself comfortable on the couch where several pairs of your shoes are scattered.

"I think it would violate my contract somehow if I did," you chuckle, noticing that your travel kit toothbrush and toiletries are on the coffee table. "I was sure I had those in my luggage already," you groan, pointing at them.

Charles laughs, patting the spot next to him and motioning you over excitedly. "Can I see it please?" he elongates the 'e', with a mocking puppy eye look on his face. "Read me some of your favorite lines," he's suggested so several times and you refuse him every single one. It's not like he hasn't seen you act, Charles admitted in one of your phone calls to have binged all of your movies.

"I can't," you fall into the couch next to him, wrapping one arm around his neck. "You make me nervous, it won't turn out good."

"You see me work all the time," he grumbles against your hair, "And you too, make me nervous. You're being unfair."

"Oh, booohooo," you mock, nuzzling into his neck. "Your job is far more exciting than me reciting lines."

"It is not—"

His complaint is cut short as you kiss him, once, twice, so many times you lose count and he kisses you back between snickers and fake complaints about how there's only so much his heart can take before it explodes. It's so cheesy it makes you both cringe and burst with laughter before starting the scene all over again.

A re-run of a Foodnetwork reality show is playing in the background when you open your eyes after a short-lived nap. Charles is swiping through his phone with his other arm around you, the light in the apartment has faded almost completely giving way to late evening.

"Do you want to go out for dinner?" you ask pushing off of Charles' body and sit and rub your eyes. "Or should we order something?"

He locks his phone and stretches, still laying on his back. "Whatever you want to do, soleil."

You two are way too comfortable in your little cocoon to mess it up by going outside just to eat. Charles smiles, knowing you've already made your mind up.

You argue on the couch for ten minutes about what take-out to get and after you've finally placed the order on your phone, you get up to make some space the dining table.

"Here," you throw the bunch of papers at him softly. The 'Little Women' script is anotated from page one, and it is true that you probably shouldn't be showing it to him, but it doesn't really hurt anyone either. "Not a word, do you hear me, Leclerc?"

Charles laughs before crossing his heart with his index finger, eager to read about your next big thing.

You throw more stuff on your open suitcase, wipe the table down and look through your kitchen for an unopened bottle of wine while Charles reads and occassionally shouts something from the living room. He's so genuinely excited about seeing you bring Amy to life on the silver screen.

"Gooodddd, what's taking them so long?" you whine as you return to the living room. The 'your order is in progress' notification still alive on the screen of your phone. Charles doesn't seem to mind as he makes space for you to sit with him again.

"Couch potato," you stick your tongue out at him, placing your feet on his lap after reaching for the TV remote. You surf through a few channels, trying to remember what the name was of that crime documentary you wanted to watch on Netflix.

"...y/n y/ln making headlines again with her messy love life," the E! Show that's starting has your picture and Charles' next to each other.

Charles' eyes move from the last pages of the script to the TV and then to you. "Change the channel, love," he says as he reaches for the remote himself.

"Yeah," you click on the Netflix logo on the remote and the screen goes black as your phone pings, letting you know your food has been delivered to your apartment complex's lobby.

─────────

There is something beautiful about domestic life with Charles even if it just exists for scarce moments like this. The smell of coffee and the sound of his humming lull you into a peaceful state of mind as you prepare breakfast before once again leaving for the airport.

Messages from Mildred, three or four already, remind you that you must be ready for the list of things she had also reminded you of a million times already.

'how did he take it?' you read from your phone, Mildred again.

You look at Charles and open your mouth. Maybe now that he's leaving in a couple hours you'll work up the courage to tell him about how Mildred is staging your break-up right this second. Which means nothing, right? Keeping it lowkey is for the best, even for him.

Right?

You open your mouth and close it several times looking at your disheveled boyfriend and his sweet smile.

"What?"

"There's something I have to tell you," you breathe out, screwing the already too tight cap on the empty bottle of orange juice that rests on the table.

"So tell me," Charles' smile widens as he puts both elbows on the table, ready to listen.

"I'm really going to miss you." you chuckle awkwardly, and there is momentary gesture, barely perceptible, in Charles' face that tells you he knows that's not what you really wanted to say.

"Me too soleil, but we'll figure it out," he's reaching for your hand with a weaker smile on his face this time.

AFTER months of speculation about the nature of y/n's relationship with Formula 1 Pilot Charles Leclerc, a spokesperson for the actress has made an exclusive statemen for PEOPLE.

"They have never been romantically-involved," the source said. "Their friendship is undeniable but there's nothing more than that."

y/ln and Leclerc have been linked since April and spotted in public together several times, including at the Italian Grand Prix on September 3rd.

"Since becoming friendly they've ran into each other at several events," the source continues, "They are often surrounded by friends they have in common, such as Matilde Bassi and Timothée Chalamet. y/n knows it's too soon to put herself out there romantically."

Despite a rumor surfacing on an online gossip site that they took a romantic vacation together in Greece, y/n's spokesperson tells PEOPLE that "pictures are often released without context to create controversy."

Charles Leclerc has been blind-sided. Which, to be fair, in his career field is something he should be used to. But the feeling doesn't compare to being blind-sided by the person who is supposed to be your partner.

Charles understands, he always understands, or at least tries his best to do so. But this time, it really feels like he's reached his limit. It's not even about how he's become even more of the laughing-stock within his group of friends about how he's been parading y/n around and defending her honor for her to call their relationship 'casual' rather than not even getting a heads-up from her about the matter.

"Is there something you would like to talk about now, y/n?" Charles questions, trying his best not to let the anger flow into his voice.

Charles thinks the worst part is how long she stays silent, but it's not even close to what comes next.

"I tried telling you," she lies.

"When?" there is no point in hiding his anger anymore, even if he doesn't want to fight. This is one of those unavoidable things you expect to hit somewhere down the road in the relationship, not a month into it.

"I TRIED!" she repeats, unable to come up with any argument in her defense.

"You never tried! See that's the thing about you, you just wait for things to happen and then you 'try' to deal with the mess!" His accent is thickening with every word.

"If it bothers you so much—"

"What bothers me," he cuts her off, "Is how you cannot trust me with these things? What did you think I would say?!"

"Exactly what you're saying now, Charles," she sounds defeated and it manages to irk him an extra mile. "You don't understand—"

"I don't understand how you still care more about what people are going to say than about talking to me. I'm your boyfriend!"

There is another long silence during which he can hear faint yelling in the background of her side of the line. On his side of the world it's nearly midnight.

"I've been thinking," y/n nearly gasps, "That maybe we rushed things."

"Rushed things?" his voice is so small now he wonders if it can really travel half-way through the world.

"I— Maybe Mildred is right— I wasn't, I am not ready for a relationship." She stammers, and Charles can picture her pinching her thigh in that nervous tick she can't quite manage to get rid of.

"You can't even take responsibility for your own feelings?"

It's always Aidan, Victoria, Mildred... a handy list of people to put part of the blame on for when she doesn't want to say things herself.

And Charles accepts it. He accepts her messes because he wants her, but now apparently y/n doesn't even want him back.

"What do you even mean by that?" y/n scoffs.

"Can you even be honest with me, then? Say that it is you who doesn't want this relationship, y/n, don't put it on—"

"I'M NOT PUTTING IT ON ANYONE! THIS HAS BEEN A MISTAKE SINCE WE LEFT MYKONOS I—"

Charles didn't want to fight and now there is nothing to fight for, anyway. So he hangs the phone up, because sometimes things end in silence.

It's three am, and Charles Leclerc just got his heart broken.

─── team principal radio: ❝why hello there, i don't even know if you remember this fic but it is for my own peace of mind that I have to finish it!!! also i love these characters a lot, even when they're acting so selfish and stupid—looking at you y/n. Thank you if you are still here and like me, had to reread it to get to this chapter.❞

✰ paddock club members: NO PADDOCK CLUB THIS TIME BECAUSE I DON'T KNOW IF ANYONE STILL WANTS TO BE TAGGED.

[dilemmaontwolegs]

The Best Kept Secret on the Grid || Part Four

MV, CL, CS, LH, LN, PG, GR, FA, DR, OP x fem!reader Warnings: fluff and flirting (sorry there will be smut next time) Reader gets to go on a hunt of her own! WC: 3.1k F1 Masterlist || Part One || Part Two || Part Three || Part Four || Part Five Thank you to @kimi240302 for being inspired to make this collage, it’s perfect! 💕 and it inspired this fic!

It was strange that the elevator had arrived on your floor, and even stranger that it was empty. Your penthouse apartment took up the entire top floor of the building and required a keycard just to use the private elevator. Only Max had the spare keycard.

Sticking your head inside you found it wasn’t entirely empty. Tucked into the corner was a gift box tied off with a delicate silver bow, your name written on the tag hanging from it. You thought about calling Max first but it wasn’t unusual to receive gifts from him so you carried it inside and opened it.

Your jaw dropped at the beautiful ball gown neatly placed inside. Each crystal of the glittering bodice was individually sewn on with meticulous care and it must have cost a small fortune to make. There wasn’t even a label to give a clue as to who the designer was, but it was clearly custom made and you knew without even stepping into it that it would fit perfectly.

Lifting the train out, you found an equally stunning half mask along with a small blank card that you turned over. Hand written in an elegant script is said: Le Bal Masqué 2200. You looked at the time and saw there was just over an hour to get ready.

You had just settled the mask over your styled hair when there was a knock on your door and you slipped your heels on before answering. Expecting to see Max waiting, you were surprised to find a stranger holding a card with your name on it, silently handing it over before you could ask what was going on.

It’s your turn to find us tonight, M.

“Your car is downstairs, madame,” the messenger said as he held the elevator door open for you.

The excitement brought a smile to your face as you stepped inside, wondering just what he had planned for you. You obviously weren’t hunting them the same way they chased you on the island, the dress was far too nice to ruin.

You were occupied by your thoughts the entire drive through the streets of Monte Carlo until you arrived at a cliff side residence. The gates opened at the car’s approach and you could see the mansion was full of men wearing their finest suits. 

“Have a lovely evening, madame,” the chauffeur said as he opened the door for you. 

You thanked him as you stepped out, your entrance garnering plenty of envious stares from the women and looks of longing from men loitering on the steps. You had scanned what you could see of the men’s faces beneath the masks and determined why this was a hunt - three had the same blue eyes and dirty blonde hair as Max while two could have easily been Charles at first glance. 

Smiling to yourself, you climbed the stairs and entered the large foyer full of men who could all pass for yours. 

“Champagne?” You took the flute from the waiter’s tray and saw two rolls of stickers beside it. Noticing the curious lift of your brow above the diamante mask, the waiter tapped the first roll. “The green sticker is for when you believe you have found one of the drivers here this evening, there are only ten so choose wisely. If you believe you have found an imposter, place a red dot on their lapel and they will be escorted off the premises. You have until midnight. Happy hunting.”

You smirked over the rim of your champagne flute and grabbed the roll of red stickers first. Turning to survey the crowd, you chuckled as you whispered to yourself, “Oh Max, you’ve outdone yourself.”

“Enjoying your evening?”

You turned to the man with a thick Spanish accent and immediately knew he wasn’t your Nando, though the jawline beneath the mask followed the same curve and his short beard was shaped similarly. The voice was too deep and the eyes were more green than hazel to match Nando’s so you plucked a red dot from the reel and slapped it on his suit as you answered, “Extremely. Thank you for coming.”

His lips turned down and a large unmasked man stepped out of the shadows, already guiding him out of the residence. You were already making your way to the ballroom where the crowd swelled, dozens and dozens congregating on the dance floor where a band were playing new hit singles but in a classical way. Perhaps band wasn’t the right term, there were so many instruments it was practically an orchestra.

An arm curled around your waist as you swayed to the music and you tipped your head back to meet a pair of brown eyes so dark they were almost black. He didn’t speak as he pulled you closer and for the first time you weren’t certain if the man was an imposter or your Esteban.

“You’re not going to ask how my night is going?” you baited him, a quick smiling parting his lips as he shook his head. Pursing your lips, you weren’t ready to rule him out with a red sticker but you needed to hear his voice to decide if he was worth one of the precious ten green dots in your hand. “Then how about a drink instead?”

His smile grew as he took your hand in his and led you to one of the small bars dotted around the ballroom. Looking at the long fingers laced with yours, you saw a thin tan line on his index finger where a ring had spent a lot of time and you tried to remember if Esteban had one too. Charles, Pierre and Lando definitely did but the memory of Estie’s hand drew a blank - you knew his fingers from how they felt between your legs not by sight apparently.

“Two piña coladas, please,” you ordered as you watched what features you could around the mask but there was no sign of disgust. “One for the road,” you added as you placed a red sticker on his collar.

“How did you know?” the lookalike asked with an English accent.

“Pineapples.” You shrugged and took the cocktail that was placed in front of you. “He hates them.”

Half an hour later the crowd had thinned dramatically. The security team had been kept busy as you felt like the Oprah meme, slapping red dots on the imposters - you get one, and you get one. With a large portion of men gone you were able to focus better and there were two men in particular you had your eye on.

All it took was one laugh and you were peeling back the first green sticker, heading for the pair of dark haired men chatting in the library. Their backs were to you as they laughed at silly book titles and you announced your arrival with a kiss to the shadow of a beard before sticking the green dot to his forehead.

“You two together was always going to be a dead giveaway,” you teased as you stuck another sticker on Lando’s nose. “Only Carlos can make you laugh like that.”

“Don’t tell me we were first?” he whined as he saw the otherwise full strip of green dots. “How have you not found George?”

You trailed a finger over the perfect lines of his suit before tugging the bow tie around his neck. He swallowed at the smouldering look in your eyes and let you drag him closer by the throat until your lips brushed his ear. “Why don’t you help me?”

His lips parted to answer but Carlos pulled him away before he could impart the information he knew. Blocking you with his body, Carlos shook his head at your attempt to break the younger driver. “Rules are rules, hermosa, and you are running out of time.”

He jutted his chin at the grandfather clock and smirked as he ducked from your reach with a laugh when you tried to take back the green sticker. “Uh uh uh, I’m well and truly yours.”

“You’re lucky you’re handsome,” you warned as you left them to their game and continued your hunt. “Alright, George, Gerorge, George, where would you be…oh.”

You had wandered through the throngs of people inside the impressive mansion but you hadn’t explored the rest of the property. It was very easy to understand Lando’s complaint when you walked out the wide open doors to the infinity pool set on the cliff face.

“I’m not sure how I’m going to get this to stick to you,” you said as you held a green dot on your finger tip. George grinned beneath his mask as he looked up from the waters edge enjoying a warm dip in the pool. Water dripped from his hair and ran down his chest as he stood up, tracing a wet palm up your calf through the slit in the dress. He was the only one at the soirée who had taken his suit off and he had also decided to put his bow tie back on before hopping in the heated pool. “You look like a stripper.”

“A very expensive one I hope,” he teased. “You look hot, love, you should join me and cool off.”

“Wish I could,” you sighed, feeling a little like the white rabbit in Alice in Wonderland, “but I’m running late and still have seven of you guys to chase down.”

George pulled himself out of the pool and grabbed a towel, a few drops of water catching on the crystal bodice as he shook his hair out. He dragged the towel down his body and you used the dry spot on the centre of his chest to plant a green dot on him. “Tagging my heart, love,” he chuckled, leaning in to kiss your cheek. “You don’t need to chase us, we are waiting for you.”

He sent you a wink as he swiped up his suit and left you poolside, confused by what he meant. “You’ll figure it out, I know you will.”

Dawdling along the balcony, you chewed over his words before realisation struck. You found Lando and Carlos together and George in the water - places where they loved to be. It seemed so obvious once you thought it and you rushed inside to the ballroom. You hadn’t questioned why the orchestra was masked but when you spotted the dark head of hair at the grand piano it made sense.

“It’s my favourite Frenchman,” you whispered in his ear and the melody bounced over a miskey.

“Monegasque,” he corrected automatically, turning to see the amusement shimmering in your eyes. “Bonsoir, mi bella.”

“You might want to rest those fingers, Charles, wouldn’t want you to get a cramp later.”

He grinned at the remark and dragged them across the keys. “Don’t worry, I’m just warming up.”

“So am I.” You reached out and stuck the green dot to the index and middle finger on his right hand before kissing the dimple on his cheek. “Those are mine.”

You followed a waiter as he slipped from the room with an empty tray and found a set of stairs leading down a floor, into a busy kitchen. Your next target stood out among the white shirt chefs and you were once again amazed at how they had managed to find strangers with such a resemblance to your drivers.

“What’s cooking, good looking?”

Fernando turned with a spoonful of something that smelled delicious and your lips parted for him. A heavenly moan hummed from your chest as you tasted what he had been stirring on the stove. Nando smirked as his eyes followed the line of your lips before he leaned in and caught them with his, rolling his tongue across your bottom lip.

“You missed a bit,” he said as he wiped the spot of sauce with his thumb before licking it clean. You momentarily forgot what you were doing but he had his wits about him as he took a green sticker and placed it on his collar. “Now this is my colour.”

“Not red?” He shook his head as you flattened the dot to make sure it wouldn’t be lost in the 25 minutes you had left. “So the Ferrari rumours…?”

“Just rumours, querida, but I don’t think you have time to gossip.” He pointed the spoon to the clock above the head chef’s station. “There’s still a few spots left.”

“Vegan special,” the chef shouted as he hit the bell for service and a waiter arrived in an instant. “Deliver this to the home theatre.”

“One less now.” You grinned and pulled another sticker out. “See you at midnight.”

You followed the waiter into the quiet depths of the mansion until he reached a door and you took the plate from the tray. “I can take it from here, thanks.”

Lewis was so engrossed in the film he didn’t notice it was you in the room with him. It was only when he looked closer he saw the green dot stuck to the white china plate in your hands and looked up with a wide smile.

“I take gratuities in orgasms, just so you know,” you said with a laugh as he moved the plate and pulled you onto his lap instead.

“It’s your lucky night, baby,” he purred in your ear as his hand slipped up the slit in your dress. “I’ve been told I’m a heavy tipper.”

His fingers teased along the lace edge of your panties and you only just managed to clear your head before he could erase all your thoughts with his touch. “Rain check,” you groaned, not wanting to leave just yet but Fernando had given you an idea before the chef had set you onto Lewis’ path. “Where would you go if you wanted to hear the juiciest gossip?”

Lewis chewed his lip as he thought it over before deciding, “The bar, a few drinks definitely loosens lips.”

“Then that’s where I need to go.” You thanked him with a kiss before leaving the theatre and made your way back to the busiest room in the place. But, before you could leave the lower levels you heard a distinctive accent and skidded to a stop.

“When they said you guys came from a land down under, I didn’t think they meant the basement.” Daniel’s smile split his face as you stepped into the games room where he and Oscar were chalking their cue sticks.

“Thank god you’re here,” Oscar sighed gratefully and placed the cue down on the table, turning to face you with a smile. “I suck at playing pool.”

“Maybe that’s because it's billiards, not pool,” you pointed out as you stepped into the space between his legs.

“I don’t even know what that is,” he admitted, his hands running over the dresses bodice and down to rest on your ass. “You look gorgeous.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you in a suit.” You straightened the bow that had tilted at some point and draped your arms around his neck. “It suits you, handsome.”

His nose wrinkled and you giggled as he tugged at the tie, sending it off kilter again. “It feels like I’m being choked.”

“There’s some pleasure to be found in a bit of choking. Isn’t that right?” Daniel asked in your ear as he stepped up behind you, his fingers delicately circling your throat. He guided your head back to his shoulder and traced his nose over your racing pulse, inhaling the sweet scent of your perfume. “Hmm, maybe we can show him how good it can be.”

You could feel both of them coming to life as they sandwiched you between them, digging their erections into you. Your eyes fluttered shut at the temptation to drop to your knees and taste the Australian drivers, but you forced your eyes open and squirmed free of their intoxicating embrace.

“Soon, promise,” you panted as you slapped a sticker on Daniel’s ass and made Oscar whine needily when you placed one over his tented trousers, rubbing your palm over it to make sure the green dot was secured. “Very soon.”

The largest bar was set up in what you guessed was usually a dining hall and it spanned the length of the room. Leaning against the bartop was Pierre, his chin on his fist as he listened to the revellers unravelling their innermost thoughts aloud. He was engrossed in the tale, nodding encouragement when the woman’s cheeks turned scarlet red beneath her mask.

“And what did he do?” Pierre asked eagerly.

The woman covered her lips as she giggled before leaning in and whispering her confession. Pierre’s lips parted with a gasp, his eyebrows rising over the top of his mask as he stood upright. “Non!”

“Oui!”

Pierre spun around at the sound of your voice in his ear and he tore his mask from his face. “Ma chatte, look at you,” he said with a playful bit of his lip as you gave him a slow spin to show all of your curves glittering beneath the chandelier light. “Beautiful. And just in time too.”

You followed his gaze and saw there was only three minutes to midnight. “Shit,” you whispered as you grabbed the second to last sticker and pressed it to his chest. “Gotta run.”

Your calves burned as you climbed the stairs, spiralling higher and higher, racing the hands of the clock until you reached the top floor. The entire wall was made of glass and overlooked the dark water beyond the cliffs, but it wasn’t the panoramic vista that caught your eye.

His back was to you, the black silk tie of his mask flattening the back of his hair that would usually stick up in all directions, especially after combing your fingers through the strands. But it didn’t matter if you couldn’t see his face, you would recognise him anywhere.

His hands were crossed at the base of his spine, right one holding the left. It was how he stood whenever he was on the podium, how he stood when his anthem played. It was how he stood when he desperately wanted to be elsewhere but was forced to be patient.

You wrapped your arms around his narrow waist and found his eyes reflected in the glass. “Hi.”

The grandfather clocks throughout the mansion struck 12, the loud dongs echoing through the halls. “I wasn’t sure you were going to make it.”

You smiled into his shoulder at the teasing in his voice. “I always knew where you would be.” Stepping around his body, he pulled you into the circle of his arms so you were both watching the horizon as fireworks began to light up the sky above the sea. “There was only one place my Max could possibly be…at the top.”

Click here for the next part.

[murfeelee]

Do you have a tutorial of where you convert objects after and make them function?

Hi! Yes and no, LOL. 😅

☽✶•.¸(✶•.¸★¸.•✶´)¸.•✶´☾ ☆«´¨`•°°•´¨`»☆    ☽.¸.•✶(¸.•✶´★`✶•.¸)`✶•.☾

Welcome to Murf’s School of Crap and Crap-Making!

School Motto: Prepare to be tortured! For Science!

Lesson #28: FUNCTIONALITY (I love the way you move~! 🎶)

☽✶•.¸(✶•.¸★¸.•✶´)¸.•✶´☾ ☆«´¨`•°°•´¨`»☆    ☽.¸.•✶(¸.•✶´★`✶•.¸)`✶•.☾

Quick Tid-Bits about Buy Mode CC Functionality

At its most basic level, object conversion follows the same basic steps from this tutorial I made here (for TS2 to TS3 converting). Once you have an .obj mesh and your .png/.dds textures, it's really just a matter of Exporting the mesh from a 3d modelling program (Blender or Milkshape), plus the textures into an image program (Gimp, Photoshop, etc), and Importing all of them into whichever TS3-compatible program you wanna work with (I always use TSRW cuz I can't stand Blender).

But when it comes to FUNCTIONAL CC, it really does depend on what the specific function is. Anything that's not Decor is Functional (anything sims can actually use/interact with; or that you can toggle specific options on). But the Buy Mode object types were NOT created equally--some are WAY more complex than others. Some functional objects are static--they don't move around much or do anything fancy (a table, a lamp, etc), and if they do move, it's very limited and doesn't require a bunch of finagling to make them work right. But some of these turds have pieces that are mobile/etc. 😰 When a sim interacts with the object, there's animations & bits moving all over the place & lights flashing & noises beeping & all kinds of crap happening. So objects tend to get more complicated to make as their functionality increases and there are a lot more moving parts.

LEVEL 1: SCRIPTED (Decor) Objects

Scripted objects are fun(ny), cuz that's when you're changing the base function of an object, by giving it a new Script in TSRW/S3PE (The Transmogrifier mod at MTS basically does this for you in-game). For ME, I'm usually turning a decor object into a functional one. Sometimes that's as simple as taking Wall Decor and giving it a script that makes it ACT like a functional wall tv/mirror/etc instead). Other times I'm making my Edible foodstuffs & Drinkable beverages. These often REQUIRE Arsil's Beverages Mod or something, cuz the script is from a 3rd party mod not built in the game itself. So it depends, but most of the time it's super easy & simple (which is why I tend to make these a lot 😅); just a matter of copy/pasting one script into another.

LEVEL 2: VERY simple functional static objects

There's some basic functional CC that follow the exact same steps as the 2t3 tutorial I already linked above--just swap the meshes & textures, adjusting the mesh sizes/positions as needed, and you're DONE (barring any finagling with Shaders (if you want the mesh to be see-thru or have a neon glow or whatever)):

Surfaces & Comfort (tables & chairs/sofas ONLY*)

Lighting (all lighting categories)

Electronics (Radios, Alarms, Clocks ONLY*)

Hobbies & Skills: LN pianos/keyboards

Toys (SN 8-ball, basegame/AMB crafted toys)

Plumbing (toilets, sinks, & SOME tubs)

Appliances (firepits)

Party (the dance rugs, SN fairy houses, FX Machines from LN/SHT ONLY*)

Debug/Transportation: Teleporter, IP Jet-skis

Plumbing (toilets, sinks, & SOME tubs)

* there's likely exceptions I'm forgetting about, but for the most part these are the "Only" super-reliably simple functional objects sims can use AFAIK

LEVEL 3: More involved functional objects

But then there's garbage that either require you to mess with their Joints/Bones (cuz the objects move / have animations when sims use them); or Geostates (the object changes shape/state when sims interact/use them & move them around). Or worse: you have to edit BOTH. 💀

More Involved (but not bad once you get the hang of it)

Electronics (TV screen meshes need careful positioning, computers have joints/bones on the mouse)

Appliances (stoves--the oven doors have joints/bones)

Storage (toy/treasure chests -- the lid has a joint/bone IIRC)

Sports (WA training dummies have joints/bones IIRC)

Debug (WA incense has geostates)

Hobbies & Skills (SN wands have geostates)

Transportation (ITF hover boards & SN magic brooms have geostates)

Toys (teddy bears have a lot more joints, that pretty much use similar steps as CAS CC--the Mesh Toolkit is your friend!)

None of these are really complicated, once you get the basics of how joints/bones & geostates work.

IMO, other than the teddy bear, you can easily & quickly assign joints/bones to meshes manually, without needing the Mesh Toolkit to do it for you at all. But be careful when manually assigning them! If you mess up assigning the joint/bones, the object mesh will move around in effed up ways during the animations.

OR, it might not move at all--which NGL is sometimes a blessing in disguise! 😅 Sometimes--not always!--it really doesn't matter if an object doesn't have bones/joints, esp. when converting super busy meshes that don't really "FIT" within TS3--like medieval/fantasy/sci-fi meshes with all kinds of fancy bits. In those cases, it's easier to say EFF the animations and just make it a static mesh instead--the dresser/chest/oven/etc doors/lids don't open, the car/bike wheels don't turn, but the object still FUNCTIONS properly--the sim can still USE it as intended, which is all that REALLY matters. 😌

Geostates though? That's a bit different. Cuz making geostates mean you have to make multiple different version of the mesh, cuz the object has different States that show up: full/empty, broken/fixed, up/down, messy/neat, finished/incomplete, on/off, open/closed states. Wands & guitars & brooms & beds & boats etc. NEED geostates in order to act right. They're either supposed to move around with the sim a certain way; or change depending what state they're in when interacted with versus left alone/idle. And those states can be freaking annoying to work with, esp. in TSRW. 🤦 Ofttimes it's easiest to break the mesh into multiple individual groups, Import them all into TSRW separately, and then manually assign the geostates group-by-group, not vertices-by-vertices--(guitars & rowboats, I'm looking at YOU).

LEVEL 4: Harder / More Complex (frikkin irritating)

Hobbies & Skills (guitars--too many effing geostates)

Toys (dollhouses, sandcastles, etc have geostates)

Storage (bookcases have geostates) dressers & armoire/wardrobes have annoying joints/bones for opening the drawers/doors/etc)

Pets (basegame fishbowls have a lot of geostates IIRC)

Transportation (IP rowboats have TOO MANY frikkin geostates & joints--I always say never again! and then I make another one, LOL 🤡🤥)

This is where my patience gets frikkin tested.

LEVEL 5: Too Effing Intimidating / Annoying / Hard For ME*

Appliances (pretty much everything else, I don't go here)

Comfort (beds, cribs, etc. have geostates I'm too lazy for)

Plumbing (showers/tubs with moving doors/screens)

Entertainment, Hobbies & Skills (I don't go here)

Transportation (bikes, cars--absolutely not)

Pets (my rabbit mod--never again and I mean it)

* I am notoriously LAZY--once there's one too many steps or things start acting funny or going wrong, I give up HELLA quick, cuz chile, I HATE making CC. Simming is a hobby that helps me relax; not a job I'm required to do for my livelihood--I'm not tryna be stressed over frikkin pixels. There's objects I've never made before; or only made ONCE and swore to NEVER make again cuz I love myself; or I've tried to make and completely failed at and don't care enough to figure out. So I'm not saying these objects are impossible, I'M just not messing with them. 🤣

TL;DR: Your Mileage May Vary!

So yeah, your question is actually harder to answer than it seems, cuz it really depends on what functional object you wanna convert. There's objects I have no idea how to make--I see way too many moving parts, and I run in the opposite direction.

[onlyangel4]

work it out on the remix. jordynne grace. smau.

jordynne grace x ex feud!reader

synopsis: throughout her time in tna and the indies jordynne constantly had a giant thorn in her side, you. while you were booked as a heel jordynne wrestled more matches with you than with anyone else combined, a feud that fed generations. however when you finally get the call to come to nxt it is not as the heel character that everyone loves to hate. it is as a face and jordynne gets to see a whole different side to you. a side that she likes.

faceclaim: fletcher

wrestlingupdates

liked by user1, user2, user3 and 192,384 others

wrestlingupdates: it can now be confirmed that long term member of the tna women's roster y/n y/ln is no longer on roster. y/n has not been seen since she lost the women's championship in march. in an exclusive interview with chris van vilet y/ln announced "well chris you are looking at the hottest free agent in the buisness" when asked about whether there were any offers her response was, "there are always offers"

view all 1,393 comments

user1: about fucking time, y/n is a three time tna champ, 2 time aew champ she definetly deserves the spotlight

user2: the best female heel in modern wrestling

user3: if she goes to nxt jordynne is gonna lose her shit

user4: ngl kinda want to see y/n as a face

wwe

liked by y/ninsta, user5, user6 and 728,393 others

wwe: y/n y/ln just made her nxt debut after saving jordynne grace from an attack by roxanne perez and giulia

view all 19,283 comments

user5: doesn't jordynne hate y/n this makes no sense

user6: omg the way y/n offered her a hand

user7: this feud fed hundreds this alliance will feed millions

user8: y/n and jordynne tag champs when

user9: all the people saying this makes no sense never actually listened to jordynne she never said she hated y/n. she hated that they were always booked against each other, "me and y/n have insane chemistry. bookers see this and then don't put me against anyone else and that limits both of our abilities to grow"

y/ninsta posted a story tagging jordynnegrace

written: the tag team you never saw coming. giulia and roxanne better watch out

y/ninsta posted a close friends story

written: guys help this babyface thing is so difficult i have spent all day trying to not be a bitch but i just have one of those faces

jordynnegrace replied to this story: i guess when you play mean for years it is difficult to stop

y/ninsta: i'm being serious jordynne i keep on reading the script but it just comes out sarcastic.

jordynnegrace: you wanna come over tonight, try and do it with another person

y/ninsta: you are a lifesaver

wwe

liked by user10, user11, user12 and 529,384

wwe: what a match! y/n and jordynne defeated giulia and roxanne in a brilliant match on nxt

view all 5,393 comments

user10: that match was so good

user11: y/n as a face is insanely good

user12: if that match is not up for best match of the year at the slammys something is wrong

user13: jordynne and y/n work so well together omg

jordynnegrace posted a story tagging y/ninsta

written: we did that shit

y/ninsta posted a story

written: my love

wwe

liked by user14, user15, user16 and 693,388 others

wwe: match announcement: following liv morgan's injury raquel rodriguez and roxanne perez will defend the woman's tag team titles in a fatal fourway against the teams maxxine dupri and natalya, alexa bliss and charlotte flair and y/n y/ln and jordynne grace at evolution 2

view all 8,274 comments

user14: omg this is going to be such a good match

user15: this is such a good idea

user16: if y/n and jordynne don't win i will riot

user17: i was so worried about the evolution booking but this card is stacked

jordynnegrace

liked by solrvca, y/ninsta, yaonlylivvonce and 639,422 others

tagged: y/ninsta

jordynnegrace: that win meant everything but doing it with you made it 100x better

view all 13,293 comments

y/ninsta: i love you more than anything fellow tag champ

user18: all this time y/n has been soft launching JORDYNNE

user19: can you both adopt me

user20: so proud of both of you

user21: this feud to tag partners to friends to lovers arch has been the best thing ever

[098kw]

COO . . . congratulations! or ... surprise? about. the only thing worse than your job, is who you share it with. everyone knows that senior sales rep lee sohee is at the top of your list of grievances. so much so that you've been contemplating quitting. but when you wake up with a massive hangover and to a marriage certificate bearing both your names--well, you're not sure quitting is going to cover it. warnings. cursing hangover word count. 1K

The first thing you notice, even before many obvious others, is that it's cold. An unusual drop in temperature that makes the hair on the back of your uncomfortably craned neck stand at attention. One that raises rows of goosebumps on your flesh, dutifully marching upwards to poke their frigid scabbards at the underside of your jaw. An action which causes an inevitable reaction. Nose twitching, mumbling incoherently under your breath as you make a half-hearted effort to further cover yourself with your blankets, fingers curling gently around ... around, wait, wheres your blankets?

The second thing you notice is that this is not your table. Not the same color (god, you hate such a deep mahogany), the same build (though, you might hate whatever's happening in its structure more), nothing. It's a table. But certainly not yours. And whoever's table this is, you must say that it was impractical to sleep on. Or ... pass out on? God, your heads pounding.

The third is that like the table, this is not your apartment. And from what your bleary, sleep addled eyes can make out--it's not near your apartment either. A completely different district of the city, seemingly far, far, far away from the one you call home. Your only clue to your location is the fact that your work bag is strewn apathetically on the hard wood to your right, laptop unceremoniously, partially jammed underneath the large, beige couch behind you. Which raises the question of why you were on the table. Or rather, if it really was a one night stand with a stranger you met at the office party like you hypothesized--why the hell were you fully dressed on their coffee table?

Speaking of fully dressed, you definitely did not leave your house in a white gown. And is that ... a corsage? Oh god, did you end up going to some creeps house and drunkenly participated in their weird marriage fetish? Is that why you're passed out on the table? They were leaving you there to better kill you in the morn--what the hell is that?

The fifth and final thing you notice is a large, rather grandiose looking document underneath where your face previously rested. Its yellowed coloring has been somewhat muddled by smears of your makeup (and maybe a few, small stains of drool, not that you would admit it). It takes a blink, then two, then five until you can properly read the elegant, overarching script at the top of the page.

Marriage Certificate.

However, it's the several words underneath this refined title that you find to be much, much, much worse. So in cases like this, where you seem to be the subject of some sick prank orchestrated by your coworkers and nemesis--there's only one thing to do right? Pry your laptop out from under the couch, find an ethernet plug, log onto AOL and figure out what the fuck is going on.

Jung Sungchan must have lost his mind.

That's the only explanation. Jung Sungchan has lost his mind and somehow afflicted this hysteria to Lee Chanyoung. Because there is no way in hell that Lee Sohee would have ever gotten married on a whim. And certainly not to Ln Yn.

Because that in and of itself is so utterly preposterous, so out of the question that--is that a shoe? A high heel to get into specifics. A pointed, black kitten heel. One that Sohee knows. He can practically hear that grating, click-click-click just by looking at it. That specific noise which acts as the warning trumpets before the apocalypse. Or in his case, you.

For this pair of pointed, black kitten heels is one he sees almost everyday. They sit across from him at work, tapping endlessly on the aged carpet of the office floor. Occasionally they encroach dangerously close to his territory, kicked up and crossed on your own desk--just narrowly missing the body of his desktop. Sometimes he spots them dangling from a chair in his peripheral or swaying only to ricochet off the staff room kitchen cabinets. And it's this pair of pointed, black kitten heels that he has never seen you without.

(Well, except for that one Tuesday last January when you slipped on ice in the parking lot and broke off one of your heels. Clutching it loosely in your hand as you defeatedly skulked into the office, all teary eyed and devastated. Sohee committed it all the memory. After all, it wasn't every day that he got to see his nemesis down in the dumps. Every storm cloud has a silver lining, right?)

But all in all, what are the odds that a handful of different women own that same pair (high, he hopes). Although, he's never seen another pair in the office, or at least not this specific make. Anton teases him relentlessly about knowing the model of your shoes. But in Sohee's opinion, it's really not that odd of a thing to know. Not when you're committed to taking your enemy down ("Taking them off, more like it," Anton would snicker, earning a smack on the back of the head and a verbal scolding which would leave him with his hands raised and back at a ninety degree bow). Maybe one of his coworkers got inspired by how unbelievably annoying your shoes are. Maybe a stranger he came home with just happens to own the same pair. Maybe it's all just a not-so-happy coincidence.

But one shoe leads to another, which leads to a stray kitty keychain lost from it's usual place hanging on your work bag (but come on, anyone could have gotten that from a gachapon) which leads to a company lanyard (facedown, and no, Sohee is absolutely not checking) which leads to the living room, which leads to you.

Veil lopsided in your knotted hair, making an ugly descent down your bare shoulders before it pools at the open back of your dress (Or is that a rip? Oh god, what happened last night?). The fabric swallows you up at your hips, washing over his carpet in a wave of white. Swallowing everything in it's path underneath it's plush tyranny. The only splash of color resides loosely around your wrist, the red rose corsage pricking its thorns up your slender hand and drawing all of Sohee's attention to the shiny, diamond ring which resides sanctimoniously upon your finger. And then to the document clenched in your fist. And then, the look of abject horror stricken all over your face.

"What the fuck?!"

home next

taglist. @fae-renjun thank you for supporting for better or for worse! ♡

note. maybe the AOL instant messenger texts was the friends we made all along. i know the font is all different shades of black. unfortunately i have become aware of it. will i fix it? maybe. probably not.

🧾 © 00127am 2025

[katsukikisses]

birds of a feather: chapter one [hawks x reader]

chapter summary: despite being across-the-street neighbors for a year, you and takami keigo have never spoken. today, with the assistance of an unfortunate thunderstorm, that changes.

chapter tags: childhood friends; neighbors trope; alternating povs; conveniently timed thunderstorms and even more conveniently lost keys.

cw: potentially neglectful parenting

prefer to read on ao3? here!

table of contents | next chapter

“Yours is the first face that I saw, Think I was blind before I met you." — Bright Eyes, First Day of My Life

Keigo’s mother didn’t like him talking to the human kids. 

She never said it outright, but he could tell she wasn’t a fan of his friendships with them. She would furrow her brow whenever he mentioned a human classmate, or tap her foot anxiously when he took too long saying goodbye at the bus stop. Of course, interacting with humans was inevitable in Kyushu, where they comprised the majority of the population. But just because you can’t avoid them at school, his mother would tell him, doesn’t mean you need to bring them home. Do you understand? 

Keigo understood perfectly. His mom was subtly enforcing a “no shop talk” policy—with “shop” referring to “humans”, clearly. He didn’t mind this too much, considering his friendships with his human classmates were largely confined to the bounds of their school. He never went to any of their houses and they certainly didn’t come to his—Keigo was not one of those boys who liked to disobey their mothers. 

There was one thing that threatened the sanctity of the no shop talk policy, though: their next-door neighbors, the LNs. Consisting of LN Akemi and Hikaru, their seven-year-old child, and the family dog, Keigo thought the LNs looked like something out of a Norman Rockwell painting. They were nice, normal, and human —everything Keigo and his mother weren’t. 

They were also, annoyingly, hellbent on befriending Keigo and his mother. When they first moved into the neighborhood a year ago, they’d sent you, their child, over with a tray of baked goods and an invitation to dinner. Keigo’s mother had graciously declined, citing her busy work schedule, but Akemi and Hikaru didn’t stop trying. To this day, whenever Keigo would run into them in the street, they hounded him relentlessly about coming over for tea, meeting up for dinner, or—worst of all—arranging a playdate between you and him.

“We promise she doesn’t bite,” your mother told Keigo once, when she’d caught him on his way to the park. “You guys are the same age, and you’re already at the same school—wouldn’t it be nice to have a friend in your class?”

She’d looked at him hopefully, as if his response would make or break her day. Keigo felt bad about declining, again. 

“Sorry, LN-san,” Keigo had responded, and quickly made up some excuse about being busy or going out of town that day. “Maybe next time, though.”

It wasn't as though Keigo disliked you—he didn’t know you well enough to pass judgment on that. He simply understood how important it was to his mother that they keep humans out of their lives. That was why, whenever he saw you crop up in the window opposite his house every day, despondently watching the other kids playing in the street, he resisted the urge to go over and take LN-san up on her offer. 

Instead, he closed the blinds and turned away.

Your mother wished you would try harder to befriend the Takami boy. 

You knew this because she voiced it frequently: at the dinner table, in the car, and especially whenever she caught you sitting by the window. 

“Really?” she would say, exasperated, before launching into a lecture about your lack of social skills. You’d usually tune her out, having heard the speech enough times to recite it from memory. It always followed the same script: she wanted you to stop staring out the window like a bedridden patient, to go out and play with the kids on your street—maybe invite one over for dinner. She wanted you to make a friend.

Well, that’s easier said than done. And it’s not as if you’ve never tried —in fact, you think you’ve tried harder to make friends than any other seven-year-old alive. You lent pencils to your table mates and didn’t mind when they didn’t give them back. You always packed an extra bento in case someone wanted to share and did your best to contribute to lunchtime conversations. You were even content being the dog in a game of House. But despite all your efforts, no one seemed all too eager to play with you, and they certainly never invited you back for a second round of make-believe. After a while, you got tired of rejection, and it became easier to stop trying altogether.

Of course, if you made any of these points to your mother, she would only bring up Keigo in response. So what if the kids at school take longer to warm up to? you could practically hear her say, You have a built-in best friend right across the street! Never mind that Keigo was one of the kids at school and never bothered to seek you out, either. He had his own friends: a rambunctious, mischievous group of boys who liked to chase girls and argue with teachers. And although Keigo himself never partook in his friends’ antics, he somehow got in the most trouble out of all of them. You suspect it was his eyes, naturally lidded, which gave the impression that he was bored or impudent—something no teacher would take kindly to. You didn’t feel too bad for him, though, considering he always managed to get off the hook with just a tilt of the head and a pretty smile…

You furiously shook your head, clearing your mind of any thoughts of Keigo. You didn’t know why you were thinking about his eyes or his smile, seeing as he practically refused to acknowledge you as neighbors, much less as classmates. That, in your eyes, made him just as bad as the other kids at school. 

Reminded of your sad social situation, you turned to face the window, ready to resume people-watching. All that faced you, however, was an empty street. Looking up, you spotted dark, heavy thunderclouds rolling in from the distance, and quickly surmised that everyone’s parents had probably called them home before the storm. You sighed, disappointed. Guess I won't be having fun watching other people have fun, today. 

You were about to climb down from your window perch—a small nook in the wall that doubled as your lookout point—when you spotted a flash of yellow and red in your periphery. Speak of the devil, you thought wryly. Keigo was rushing down the street, no doubt trying to beat the rain. When he reached his house, he began rifling through his pockets madly, before freezing, dropping to his knees, and then upturning the doormat. His wings were raising and ruffling in a way that betrayed his agitation, and, after sprawling his hands across every inch up the mat, he rose slowly. You couldn’t make out his expression from your room, but you couldn't imagine it was a happy one. 

The wind was picking up now, and the rain clouds were practically on top of you. Glancing back down at Keigo, you saw that he was attempting to squeeze himself under the sliver of roof hanging off the house. His wings were raised protectively over his head, as if they could shield him from lightning bolts. 

Yeah, he would definitely die out there. 

Without another thought, you jumped down from your perch and ran out of your room. You rushed down the steps, taking them two at a time, until you reached the foyer and threw open the front door.��

“Hey!” you shouted across the street. You had to raise your voice substantially to be heard over the howling wind. “Come inside!”

Keigo looked over at you, brows furrowed. “What?” he yelled back.

“Come inside my house!” you repeated, “There’s a storm coming!”

Mentally, you berated yourself. He could clearly see it was storming—it was why he was camped out in front of his own house in the first place! Why couldn’t you think of something more clever to say? 

“No, thanks,” Keigo hollered, “I’m good out here.” 

Well, perhaps it wouldn’t have mattered how articulately you’d phrased your invite—even when you were trying to save their lives, people weren’t interested in spending time with you. Still, you couldn’t just leave Keigo out there. 

“Just come in!” you shouted, getting frustrated, “You are not okay out there!”

As if to prove your point, rain began falling from the sky in heavy sheets. Keigo was soaked within seconds, and even you were getting splashed from your doorway. 

Keigo looked hesitantly at his house, then toward the sky—which was only spewing out more rain—and then at you, across the street. A crack of thunder in the distance finalized his decision. With one last backward glance, Keigo rushed across the street, his wings flapping lightly behind him. As soon as he made it through the doorway, you slammed the door shut behind him. 

“Um…thank you.”

You turned to face the boy standing in your foyer. While running across the street, Keigo had only gotten further drenched, and water was quickly collecting in a small puddle around his feet. His hair, usually golden and fluffy-looking, was now plastered to his forehead in a brown clump, and his wings drooped with the weight of the water. 

“You’re welcome,” you replied stiffly. You didn’t have much practice talking to other kids your age, so you were lost on what you were supposed to say in a situation like this. The weather, you decided, was immediately out.  

Before you could humiliate yourself by blurting out something ridiculous, a violent shiver racked Keigo’s body. You realized the air conditioning was blasting his wet clothes on full force, and quickly jumped into action—he definitely wouldn’t be friends with you if you let him catch pneumonia on your watch.

“Ah, I’m sorry!” you apologized, “You must be cold. Here, follow me.” Without thinking, you grabbed Keigo’s hand and started pulling him up the steps. He briefly tensed in your hold, before relaxing and allowing himself to be guided by you. You guided him to your room where you began pulling out spare towels from your drawers and throwing them on your bed. “Use those to get dry.”

You turned around, expecting to see him toweling off, but instead, he was inspecting the posters on your wall. 

You flushed as you realized what was happening: you were having someone over for the first time, and they were judging your room. Was this a test to see if you’re cool? Would he decide if you’re worthy of being friends with after this?

Keigo noticed you watching him and pulled back from the wall. “Sorry, I was just seeing what kind of stuff you’re into.” 

“Oh,” you said awkwardly, “That’s fine.”

He grabbed the towels off the bed and quickly began drying off. He was still shivering slightly, which concerned you—your mother warned you to always dry off with a towel after getting out of the pool, lest you get sick. You anxiously wondered if too much time had passed between Keigo getting rained on and toweling off.

“So, how did you know I was locked out?” Keigo asked, dragging you out of your thoughts. 

“Oh, I saw you from the window,” you answered immediately, before realizing how creepy you sounded. “I mean, um, I was passing by the window and I happened to see you at the door, since, you know, we’re neighbors and—”

“‘S fine,” Keigo cut you off. “I know that you like to be by the window. I’ve seen you up there, sometimes.”

“Oh,” you said dumbly, “You have?”

“Yeah, you’re always watching the other kids.”

His reply elicited an embarrassed squawk from you. “I’m not watching the other kids!” you exclaimed, “I’m—I’m scouting ! I’m looking to see if anyone here is cool enough to be my friend. That’s why I have to watch them…in action.”

Keigo dragged the towel through his hair, flattening it to his forehead. He peered at you skeptically through a golden curl. “...Sure. Whatever you say.”

“It’s true!” you insisted, becoming defensive, “And it’s not like you would know, seeing as no one here’s good enough for you to play with!” 

Keigo paused at this, one hand still fisted in a towel, but you barreled on, unable to stop. “Whenever I’m watch— scouting the street, I see the way you turn down everyone’s invites. You have all these friends at school, but refuse to hang out with anyone in your neighborhood! Guess you’re just too cool for us, huh?”

(Of course, you didn’t really care whether he hung out with the kids on your street or not. You were referring more to the fact that he’d rejected every play date your mother proposed and completely ignored you at school—but he didn't need to know about that).

“I…I don’t hang out with our neighbors because my mom prefers me to go straight home after school,” Keigo spoke slowly, as if trying to choose his words carefully. “And plus, I don’t think I’d get along with them too well. We’re… different.”

At this, he switched from toweling off his hair to his wings, drawing your attention to the red plumage. They looked darker when wet, you noticed. 

“You mean, because you’re a hybrid?” you asked tentatively.

Keigo’s back stiffened, causing his wings to raise minutely. The motion sent tiny droplets of rain flying across your room. 

“Yeah, that’s what I mean,” he responded. His face was blank—too blank. “Humans and hybrids are different.” 

“How so?” you inquired, before immediately backtracking.“I mean, obviously we’re different, physically. But at the end of the day, we’re all just people.”

He fixed you with a searching look. “Are we, though?”

You were stumped. “I mean, yeah. We both eat food and breathe oxygen. We both go to school and watch TV. I don’t see how we’re that different, you and I.”

Your neighbor blinked curiously at you. The clouded sky outside did little to brighten up your room, and, against the shadowy backdrop of your curtains, Keigo’s eyes appeared luminescent. He shook out his wings—now dried—and turned away from you. 

“You watch TV?”

“Um, yeah, I do,” you replied, confused again. Was your conversation about hybrids over? Talking to Keigo was kind of hard. “Do you…want to watch something?”

Keigo turned back around to you, finally. “Sure,” his lips quirked up minutely—half of his usual smile, and even less than the kind he’d deploy to get out of trouble with teachers. Still, you’d take it. 

“Okay,” you smiled back, relieved. You led the way out of your room and into the living room. “So, we have Nickelodeon and Disney, or we can watch a movie…”

LN Akemi didn’t ask for much in life. 

Not anymore, that is. When she was younger, she wished for many things: a stable job, a beautiful house, and a lovely family. In her thirties, she acquired all those things, and believed that, at last, she could spend her wishes on superfluous and material things.

Oh, how wrong she was.

The thing no one tells you about having a child is that their problems become your problems. Now, instead of wishing for a promotion at work, Akemi found herself wishing you would recover quickly from your cold. Instead of wishing for more clients at the firm, she wished you would do well on your Geography test.

Most of all, Akemi wished you would make a friend. 

She saw the way you stared out the window: cheeks pressed against the panes, hungrily drinking in the sight of children running in the streets. As if you could live through their joy, their experiences. She saw the way you packed extra lunches and pens, returning each day with an unshared bento (yet missing stationary). She wished you wouldn’t have to look out the window. She wished you wouldn’t lose your pens. 

Akemi didn’t understand why you had such trouble making friends. She knew that all mothers tended to regard their children as perfect, but you were truly the closest thing there was. You were kind, intelligent, and funny in a way that she didn't really get—so why did none of these brats want to hang out with her child? 

Regardless of the answer, Akemi found herself making wishes for you whenever the opportunity arose. An eyelash blown off the cheek, a penny tossed in the fountain—she must’ve made hundreds by the time you hit the second grade. Which was why she couldn’t help but squeal when she returned from work one evening and found Takami Keigo sitting on the couch with you, watching a re-run of Phineas and Ferb. 

“Oh!” she dropped her grocery bags in surprise, spilling produce across the floor. “I didn’t realize you were having a friend over, dear!” 

You stuck your head over the couch and gave her a look that said, Don’t make it sound like I never have friends over. “Yeah, Keigo-kun was locked out of his house during the storm, so I invited him in.”

Akemi could've wept from joy. A blessing in disguise! 

“Hello, LN-san,” Keigo got up from the couch and bowed respectfully. Akemi almost squealed again. “I’m really grateful that LN-chan invited me over. I won’t intrude any longer, though—I’ll head home now.”

“Oh, no, honey,” Akemi quickly said, “You’re not intruding at all! Why don’t you stay for dinner? I was just about to get started.” 

“Yeah, stay for dinner,” you agreed. “Plus, didn't you say your mom's still at work? You’d be locked out, anyway.”

Keigo shrugged. “Yeah, but I can go over the fence and hang out in the backyard or something. It’s my fault for forgetting my keys.” 

Both you and your mother frowned at this, but Keigo didn’t seem to notice. Instead, he rolled up his sleeves and headed over to the kitchen, where he began gathering up Akemi’s dropped groceries. 

“Let me help you with dinner,” he insisted. 

Akemi could feel her eyes welling up. This was more than anything she could’ve ever asked for. “Oh, aren’t you just the sweetest!” she gushed, “No, that’s quite all right, dear. Please, continue watching your show.”

The young hybrid nodded at this, but continued to help her put away the groceries, anyway. Not wanting to be outdone in your home, you also meandered over to the kitchen, picking up a rogue head of broccoli along the way. 

“Keigo-kun,” you began, nervously turning over the produce in your hands, “If your mom doesn’t come back until really late, do you want to spend the night here?” 

Keigo looked conflicted. “I don’t know. I’ve never had a sleepover before—like I said, my mom doesn’t really like me going to others’ houses.”

Akemi couldn’t help but silently agree with Keigo’s mom’s decision. You never knew what could happen at a sleepover, especially as a hybrid…

“Well, we could ask her for permission,” you suggested, “Do you have her phone number?” 

Your new friend looked uncomfortable with the direction the conversation had taken. “Um, yeah, but I don’t know if she’d be able to pick up. She’s really busy at her job.”

At this, Akemi could not help but feel a little concerned. What kind of job doesn’t allow a mother to answer a call from their child? Plus, a glance at the clock on the wall told her it was nearing eight in the evening. How long did Takami-san work for? 

“Well, why don’t we do this,” she deftly interrupted their conversation, “Keigo-kun, we’ll plan as though you’re spending the night for now. Y/N can set up sleeping bags in the living room, and I’ll go grab you a change of clothes—I believe we have some that’ll fit you nicely, from the last time my nephews visited. When your mom returns from her job, I’ll go over and explain the situation, and you can decide if you want to stay or not. Does that sound good?” 

You looked at Keigo hopefully. The hybrid turned toward you, catching the optimistic look on your face. “Sounds good,” he agreed after a moment’s hesitation.

You cheered, tossing the head of broccoli in the air in favor of dashing upstairs to find the sleeping bags. Keigo smiled, picking up the abused vegetable, and resumed helping Akemi sort through the groceries. 

“Thank you for letting me stay, LN-san,” he said earnestly. 

For the nth time that day, Akemi held back a squeal. He was just too cute! “Of course, Keigo-kun. I’m glad that you and Y/N are getting along—I told you she doesn’t bite, right?”

From upstairs, there was a heavy thump, followed by a soft “Frick!”

Keigo’s mouth quirked up in a wry smile. “Yeah, definitely no bite.”

Akemi held back a smile herself. “I better go help her wrangle the sleeping bags. Please make yourself at home here, Keigo.”

The young hybrid gave her an appreciative look, before continuing to dutifully sort through her groceries. As Akemi headed upstairs, she couldn’t help but feel deeply satisfied by the outcome of her wishes. 

Next Chapter

author's note: I hope you guys enjoyed the first chapter! I've had this idea for a while so I'm excited to share it. Thank you for reading and if you enjoyed it, please let me know what you thought in the comments. Constructive criticism is always welcome :)

[selfaware-bungou-stray-dogs]

From recent discussions about Danny as reader, I had a thought...

What if reader doesn't like a charecter?

Anyone that has watched Danny Motta's reaction videos on BSD knows that Danny dislikes Fyodor and strongly hate Nathaniel Hawthorne.

A lot of people in the fandom also dislike Teruko.

How do the BSD cast react?

There is a mix between "We acsept and understand it" and "We kinda feel hurt about it".

On one hand, they understand, that, for now, they are fictional character for Reader. And Reader aren't obliged to love every single character. BSD Cast themselves read books from the real world, while they still in their world. And BSD Cast also have characters they dislike. They will be a hypocrites, if they will be angry at Reader for disliking a character, while they dislike other characters.

On the other hand, disliked characters feel sad. They knew from others, that positive emotions from GL felt nice (warm and safe). They also want to make GL feel happy about them! But, disliked characters don't feel to sad. They can be more, than manga/anime/LN shows about them! They will talk to GL in the Real World. They will find a way to be at least on nice terms, if not friends.

_____

I do think that GL's feelings about disliked characters can be changed. In Real World there is no script, and BSD Cast's actions cannot be predicted. Who knows, maybe, disliked characters can surprise GL and make them change their mind.

Danny wasn't immideatly became Ranpo's fan.

[h3art-love]

｡ﾟ•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• ｡ﾟ

｡ﾟ•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• ｡ﾟ

Apothecary Dairies #2

dynamic between maomao, shisui, xiaolan, jinshi, and I!

spoilers—be wary when proceeding.

maomao

my older sister who doesn’t show affection in obvious ways. she also makes sure I don’t overwork myself, and if I do she makes sure to take care of me! I love how we get excited about new experiments; I dislike when she hurts herself, so I usually do the antidote making. I mean, I am better at them.

If it wasn’t for her, then my excellent antidote-making skills wouldn’t be where they are now. she digests poisons; I perfect cures—damage control if you may. . . we’re two sides of the same coin and the perfect, mad cat-like scientific duo.

I am also very protective of her!!! I don’t playyyy, so when jinshi came in the picture🙄

Jinshi

I scripted a slowburn enemies to lovers, but slowburn just scratched my brain so right. There is also another scene I scripted where Jinshi fell ungracefully, and my friend, who is posing as a eunuch, makes an offhand comment about how unsightly he fell, which was an embarrassing crack in his crafted persona, and he said he’d fire gaoshun (he was right there barely catching him) if that was him. I let out an….loud, ridiculous laugh. (I have no regrets scripting that in, and if you’re worried—no, I won’t die or face repercussions 4 this)

our dynamic is petty; I scripted I politically dominate him and rival him in beauty. if you’re as vain as him, then you’d be vexed. do you see how pressed he gets in canon when maomao pays attention to other men even though he’s the prettiest?😭

tbh, it’s just petty, passive aggressiveness with a sprinkle of possessiveness if anyone else comes into the picture! I wouldn’t outright say it’s a hardcore enemies to lovers.

shisui

I HAAAAVEEE SOOOOO MUCCCH 2 SAAAAYY! First of all, RIP SHISUI!!!! (If you know, you know) I miss her so bad, and I’ll definitely cry my eyes out when she’s actually gone FORREAL. we’re best friends and I lowkey shipped her with maomao lol. she loves bugs 🫱🏻‍🫲🏾 I love plants. we collect things together, and I listen to her yap about bugs while she listens to me yap about plants.

to find out she’s missing WILL gut me, but to remember she is still alive because of maomao’s hairpin regifting? I KNOW. WHAT. YOU. ARE. she CANONLY knows the symbolism behind the hairpins means. the fact that it saved shisui’s life? I’d be more than happy to know that she’s alive rather than dead.

I love shisui<3 she ate down during her closing act during the shi clan rebellion arc, and idc what anyone says but das the best arc. (I’m only on LN 4 rn)

In my college AU, I’m literally scripting them idc idc.

Xiaolan

big back 🫱🏻‍🫲🏾 big back. I literally have to negotiate with her on sharing snacks, but I adore her so much! she’s so adorable and so biteable<3 if I could adopt her into the family, then I would 100%. When she leaves to her job; I’ll legimately cry like maomao except i’m ugly crying, and I have snot running down my face. I’m 100% tracking her down—I don’t take abandonment well, clearly.

she’s also my number #1 gossip buddy! I love xiaolan<3 shisui and her are number #1 best girls. She’s like a tinier little sibling, and out of the three of us maomao is the oldest. IT’S NOT THE SAME WITHOUT SHISUI AND XIAOLAN💔. 🤧🤧🤧🤧😭😭😭