#NOT OUR BELOVED ROOKIE……..

[significant-narratives]

kniesy ruled out for sunday’s game

[hertl]

i’m crying i love the sharks so bad what do you mean you gave leafs fans hope against the worst team in the league and then stoned their two best players in the shootout? playing with emotions in toronto just to say SIKEEEEEEE

[cheftsunoda]

Hello! 🧚🏼

I'm not sure if you have any specific rules or guidelines when it comes to requesting, however I absolutely adore all of your poly fics and I've reread them so often! I'm just wondering if you'd ever consider doing a Yuki x Pierre x Reader? I'm open to anything with them honeslty. Your writing is so so good!! <3

If you aren't okay with it, that's absolutely no worries at all! ⭐️✨

(anything for you baby doll) (u made me blush and i hope you enjoy the fic)

haute and bothered — pg10 + yt22

smau + blurbs

pierre gasly x !hadjar fashion editor reader x yuki tsunoda

isack hadjar x !older sister fashion editor reader

YN Hadjar is Vogue France’s sharpest editor and the undisputed definition of elegance. A force in the fashion world, she’s used to front rows, flashing cameras, and never being the one caught off guard. But when she crosses paths with her younger brother’s teammate and his best friend at a fashion event, a playful request for style advice quickly unravels into something far more complicated—and far more intoxicating.

fc : aylin elma + various pinterest gals

before you read! : isack + yuki are still teammates for plot purposes— thank u, love u, bye

—

yn_hadjar

liked by isackhadjar, voguefrance, olliebearman and 1,205,777 others.

yn_hadjar : where to next? ✈️💐

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view 127,045 other comments.

isackhadjar : how about to come see your little brother and go to one of his races? 🙄

liked by yn_hadjar

↳ yn_hadjar : we are literally going to the same event tonight and i’ve cleared my weekend for you. can we please keep the dramatics to a minimum?

liked by isackhadjar

username0 : yn! will you be dressing isack for the event?

↳ yn_hadjar : obv. i cannot be seen with him in something that he came up with.

↳ isackhadjar : she literally used to set out my clothes for school the next day and she still does it for me now.

liked by yn_hadjar and username0

username15 : everyone shut up. these two r so important to me.

voguefrance : our girllll 😻🔥

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visacashapprb : we can’t wait for our fave sibling duo to be reunited 💙

liked by yn_hadjar and isackhadjar

jacquemus : we 💛 you!

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olliebearman : my favorite fashion icon

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↳ yn_hadjar : my favorite f1 rookie

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↳ isack_hadjar : excusez-moi???

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yn_hadjar : he goes out of his way to read my editorials. do you???

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↳ isack_hadjar : no comment.

lewishamilton : 🔥🔥

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↳ isack_hadjar : can you two date so he can be part of the family?

liked by lewishamilton and yn_hadjar

yn_hadjar : menace

alexandrasaintmleux : si belle ma chérie <3

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—

yn_hadjar added posts to her story!

seen by isackhadjar, olliebearman, yukitsunoda0511 & 1,809,253 others.

{caption 1 : @/hugo_official event tonight} {caption 2 : someone tell him to take this off and put on what i pick out before i disown him.}

olliebearman : just disown him and adopt me as your brother

liked by yn_hadjar

yn_hadjar : deal

isackhadjar : i kinda got ts on tho

liked by yn_hadjar

yn_hadjar : you look like a gym teacher not like you’re about to be on a red carpet representing your team.

isackhadjar : fine then what event would you approve this outfit for

yn_hadjar : save it for your mid life crisis era

visacashapprb : thank you for making him change, yn.

liked by yn_hadjar

yukitsunoda0511 : can’t wait for my styling class you promised :)

liked by yn_hadjar

yn_hadjar : can’t wait for that meal you promised to make me after

pierregasly : si jolie mon amour

liked by yn_hadjar

yn_hadjar : merci mon angeeeee

—

I didn’t knock. I stormed into Isack’s hotel room like a woman on a mission—because I was. We had exactly ninety minutes until the Hugo event, and if my beloved younger brother showed up looking like a clown, it would somehow reflect badly on me. And sure enough, the universe really said, “Let’s test her.” I stopped cold. He turned around slowly, like he’d been waiting for this moment. Like he knew exactly what he’d done.

“Isack.”

He was wearing a shiny, deep red satin shirt, only half-buttoned, tucked into chaotically patterned pants that clashed so hard I actually squinted. And to top it all off? White Oakleys. Inside.

“What. The hell. Are you wearing.”

He gave me the most infuriating smile known to man. “It’s giving ‘fashion-forward driver off-duty,’ no?”

“It’s giving ’man lost in the sale bin at a Las Vegas souvenir shop.’” I walked in and tossed my bag on the bed. “Take. It. Off.”

"YN. Come on. It's kind of iconic."

“It’s kind of traumatic.”

He laughed, clearly proud of himself. “I wanted to see how mad I could make you before you threatened violence.”

“You’re so lucky we share DNA.”

I yanked open the garment bag hanging on the back of the door and pulled out the actual look he was supposed to wear— tailored black trousers, the clean charcoal turtleneck, and that sharp Hugo jacket that made him look like he belonged in a campaign. My campaign.

“You’re wearing this. Non-negotiable.”

“Jeez. Do you treat all your models like this?”

“No. Just the ones who try to show up to a luxury fashion event dressed like Pitbull’s stylist during a midlife crisis.”

He muttered something under his breath as he started unbuttoning the shirt, but I was too busy hiding a smile to care. Honestly, I didn’t know what was waiting for us downstairs or who else would be there. I just knew that if Isack made his red carpet debut in that outfit, I’d have to resign from fashion entirely. And that was simply not an option.

—

The Hugo event was in full swing by the time we arrived—cameras flashing, music pulsing, champagne being passed around like water. Isack, thankfully, looked decent in the outfit I’d forced him into. Better than decent, actually. Smug little bastard knew it too. We stepped inside the venue and he immediately peeled off to talk to someone from the team. I stayed behind near the bar, doing a lazy scan of the room. Models, stylists, influencers, the usual mix. I was half-distracted answering an email when I heard Isack’s voice again—closer this time.

“YN,” he said, a little too casually. “There’s someone I want you to meet.”

I looked up. Next to him stood Yuki Tsunoda, who I recognized from the grid but had never actually met. He was dressed immaculately—double-breasted navy suit, crisp collar, Hugo brooch pinned just so. And standing beside him, just slightly behind, was Pierre Gasly. All charm and smirk, wearing that kind of black turtleneck that only worked when you were French and stupidly handsome.

Yuki gave me a polite smile. “Hi. Teammate-slash-regretful Oakley enabler.”

I blinked, caught off guard by how quick he was. “So you’re the one who told him the sunglasses were a good idea.”

Yuki nodded solemnly. “I can’t be trusted before 6 p.m.”

I laughed—genuinely. “Well. At least you’re self-aware.”

Isack, annoyingly pleased with himself, gestured between us. “YN, Yuki. Yuki, YN. This is my very controlling older sister. She works at Vogue. Bosses people around. Yells at me a lot.”

“I keep him alive,” I corrected.

Yuki’s eyes twinkled. “She yells fashionably.”

Pierre stepped forward then, offering his hand. “And I’m just the plus-one. Pierre.”

“Vogue France,” I replied, shaking it with a tilt of my head. “YN Hadjar. And no one is just the plus-one if they wear a turtleneck that well.”

He grinned, teeth flashing. “Merci. I dressed to impress.”

“You succeeded.”

Isack groaned like we were already too much. “I shouldn’t have introduced any of you. I can feel the ego growing in the room.”

“Relax,” I said, taking a flute of champagne from a passing tray. “If anything, this might be the most normal group here.”

Yuki raised his glass. “Cheers to that.”

—

The party had started to blur. Most of the photographers had cleared out, the music had slowed to something low and hypnotic, and people were either drunk, half-asleep on velvet couches, or deep in conversation with whoever they were hoping to leave with. I’d lost Isack about an hour ago—probably cornered by a PR rep or sneaking off to find sliders. I was tucked into a quieter corner of the venue, perched on a velvet bench with a glass of wine in hand, shoes dangling from my fingers. And somehow—like gravity knew exactly what it was doing—Yuki and Pierre ended up there with me. They’d brought more drinks. I wasn’t even sure when they left to get them.

“This is your version of relaxing?” Pierre asked, settling in beside me with one arm stretched along the back of the booth. His thigh brushed mine casually—but it stayed there. “Watching the fashion crowd fall apart after midnight?”

“It’s better than the Met Gala,” I teased, swirling the wine in my glass. “No one’s pretending to be sober.”

Yuki laughed, sitting on my other side, close enough for our shoulders to touch. “You really know everyone in this world, don’t you?”

“I’m paid to,” I said, shrugging. “It’s part of the job. Know the faces, the designers, the drama. And make sure the magazine doesn’t implode.”

Pierre leaned in slightly, eyes warm. “So what happens when we ask you for your professional opinion?”

I arched a brow. “You mean you’re not just here for the free champagne and Isack’s tragic outfit reveal?”

Yuki smirked. “That was worth the invite alone.”

Pierre tilted his head. “But seriously. If someone… let’s say two very handsome drivers, wanted to evolve their wardrobes. Less teamwear, more… effortless Parisian heartthrob—could you help?”

I looked between the two of them—Pierre’s charming grin, Yuki’s quiet curiosity. The idea was ridiculous. And kind of… adorable.

“You want me to style you?” I asked, pretending to sound skeptical, even as something fluttered in my chest.

Pierre gave a one-shouldered shrug. “Why not? You have the eye. And we trust your taste.”

Yuki added, voice a little softer now, “We trust you.”

That—that—was what did it. The way he said it. Like it wasn’t a throwaway line. I let the silence sit for a second, the energy shifting in that charged, unspoken way you don’t quite want to look at too directly.

“Fine,” I said, lifting my glass. “But if I style you, you have to give me full control. No last-minute Oakleys. No sneakers with suits. No team caps unless we’re on a track.”

Pierre lifted his glass to mine. “Deal.”

Yuki smiled, slow and sure. “As long as you’re the one undressing us.”

I choked on my wine.

Pierre smacked him lightly on the shoulder, laughing while very pointedly not denying anything. And me? I just sat there between them, flushed and flustered, fully aware I might be in so much trouble. And maybe… maybe I didn’t mind one bit.

—

The fitting studio I booked was quiet—no interns, no stylists, no chaos. Just warm lighting, racks of carefully curated looks, a stack of espresso cups on the side table, and two very smug drivers sprawled across the velvet couch like they were born for it.

“Okay,” I said, clapping once for drama. “Fashion boot camp begins now.”

Pierre stretched his arms behind his head. “I’m ready to be transformed.”

Yuki leaned back with that deceptively innocent look on his face. “Are you going to watch us change, or…?”

“Don’t tempt me,” I muttered under my breath, already pulling hangers from the rack.

I handed Yuki a dark forest green suit with a satin lapel and shoved Pierre a moody charcoal turtleneck and tailored check trousers. They disappeared behind the curtain with too many smirks and zero urgency, clearly enjoying how flustered I already was. Pierre stepped out first, tugging the sleeves into place, and honestly? He looked unfairly good. Like something from a magazine I’d kill to shoot for.

He turned in front of the mirror, then looked at me over his shoulder. “Well?”

I crossed my arms. “Could use a belt.”

He stepped closer, lowering his voice. “You gonna help me with that too?”

Before I could answer, Yuki appeared—and my mouth actually fell open.

The suit fit like it was tailored to his existence. Clean lines, sharp collar, a single undone button at the top. He noticed my stare immediately.

“Too much?” he asked, feigning bashfulness.

I blinked. “It’s… dangerous, actually.”

Yuki smirked, stepping closer. “Dangerous how?”

“Dangerous like I might start taking back my professionalism clause.”

Pierre came to stand on my other side. “Remind me—did that clause include hands-on adjustments?”

He was teasing, but there was something in the air now. He was close. They both were. Close enough that I could feel the warmth of them, smell their cologne. It was suddenly hard to focus on fashion.

“You’re both ridiculous,” I muttered, reaching to adjust the lapel on Yuki’s jacket, fingers brushing his chest. He didn’t move. Then I turned to Pierre, smoothing the shoulder seam, just barely grazing his collarbone. He didn’t move either.

“You’re blushing,” Yuki said softly, and I hated that he was right.

“You’re both standing way too close,” I whispered.

“Maybe we like it here,” Pierre replied, voice low, steady.

It hit me then—how easy this had become. The three of us in a quiet studio, skin brushing, laughter on our lips, heat simmering just below the surface. I had invited them here to play stylist, to stay in control. But somewhere in the middle of the zippers and buttons and side glances, I’d lost my upper hand. And for once… I didn’t really care.

—

I was trying to play it cool. Trying to pretend I didn’t just spend the last hour dressing two of the most dangerously attractive men alive and getting thoroughly wrecked by the way they looked in my clothes. Professionally speaking, of course. But then Pierre ran a hand through his hair and leaned against the mirror like he belonged in a Saint Laurent campaign, and Yuki looked at me with that quiet, unreadable expression of his—the one that always made me feel like he already knew what I was thinking.

“You didn’t give us a grade,” Pierre said. “On our final looks.”

I exhaled, tucking my phone back into my pocket. “You passed. Barely.”

Yuki grinned. “That sounds like a dinner-worthy score.”

I looked between them. “You want to go to dinner like this? Fully styled?”

Pierre tilted his head. “You did say no team caps. We’re trying to be on our best behavior.”

Yuki stepped closer, casual but intentional. “Come on. We’ll feed you. You’ve been working hard. You’ve earned a glass of wine that doesn’t taste like it came from the Hugo party’s gift bag.”

I raised a brow. “Are you bribing me with carbs and alcohol?”

Pierre smiled slowly. “Is it working?”

It was. God, it so was. And maybe it was the lighting or the way they were both looking at me—equal parts challenge and invitation—but suddenly dinner didn’t feel like just dinner. It felt like… the next page of something we weren’t ready to name yet. I tucked a strand of hair behind my ear, fighting a smile. “Fine. But if we’re going out, you’re both paying. For emotional labor. And trauma. From Isack’s outfit this morning.”

Yuki laughed. “Fair.”

Pierre offered his arm like a damn movie character. “Lead the way, Hadjar.”

I took it—of course I did—and let Yuki fall into step beside me. And as the three of us stepped out into the night, our reflections in the shop window caught my eye. We looked good together.

—

Dinner was supposed to be normal. A low-key place tucked into a side street in the 7th arrondissement. Candlelight flickering against the windows, soft jazz humming in the background, and a little corner table that Pierre insisted on—for privacy, he said with a wink. I’d let them order for me. I was too busy trying to process what exactly this was. A friendly dinner? A thank-you? A tease? I didn’t know. But I was wearing heels again. And lip gloss. So it wasn’t nothing.

Pierre had undone the top two buttons of his shirt, gold chain peeking through. Yuki looked effortless in a crisp white tee under a jacket I hadn’t even realized I picked for him earlier. They looked like trouble. Like my trouble. Conversation was easy—almost too easy. Laughter flowing, legs brushing occasionally beneath the table. We talked about the grid, my job, fashion week disasters, and how Yuki once fell asleep mid-photoshoot.

“I was jet-lagged,” he said, totally unapologetic.

Pierre chuckled. “The stylist threatened to cry. He still follows Yuki on Instagram.”

Yuki smirked, taking a sip of wine, and then leaned toward me just a little. “Would you cry if we fell asleep during a fitting?”

“I’d make sure you didn’t wake up in anything flattering,” I shot back.

That earned a soft laugh—and then, casually, effortlessly, Yuki let his hand fall under the table. And found my knee. My brain short-circuited. It wasn’t a graze. It wasn’t an accident. His fingers curled lightly just above the hem of my skirt, warm and unhurried. Just… there. Not possessive. Not demanding. Just… interested. I swallowed. Pierre didn’t notice at first. He was halfway through a story about a party and a very confused DJ. But then his gaze drifted down. He saw the way I shifted in my seat, just slightly. The way Yuki’s hand stayed. And his expression changed. Slowly. He smirked. Looked back up at me.

“You okay?” he asked, innocently.

I cleared my throat. “Mhm. Wine’s strong.”

Pierre leaned closer, voice low. “Is it the wine… or the company?”

I didn’t answer. Because Yuki was tracing slow, gentle circles against my thigh now, his face unreadable, like we weren’t in a room full of people. Pierre’s foot tapped mine under the table. Light. Intentional. Okay. So I wasn’t imagining this. I set down my fork, took a long sip of wine, and smiled—sweet, measured, practiced.

“Both,” I said. “Obviously.”

They didn’t push. Not yet. Just sat back, smug and satisfied, the tension between us like a stretched silk ribbon, ready to snap. And I realized then—this dinner wasn’t just dinner.

—

The air outside had that warm, early summer weight to it—the kind that clung to your skin like a secret. We left the restaurant slowly, like no one wanted to break whatever fragile thing had formed between the wine and the way Yuki’s hand lingered on my thigh. Pierre walked on my right, close enough that our arms brushed every few steps. Yuki was on my left, quiet but there, his hand grazing the small of my back as we waited for the crosswalk light to change. Paris looked soft at night. Golden. But the silence between us buzzed with anything but calm.

“You live around here?” Pierre asked casually, like he didn’t already know from the reservation name and the way I’d reflexively glanced down the street.

“Mhm,” I replied, lips curled just slightly. “About five minutes.”

Yuki looked over. “We could walk you.”

“You are walking me.”

“Then maybe we finish the job.”

I bit back a smile. When we reached my building, I stopped on the steps, keys dangling between my fingers. They both turned toward me, waiting. Expectant, but never pushing.

“You could come up,” I said carefully, not looking at either of them yet. “Just for a bit. If you want.”

Pierre tilted his head, slow grin spreading. “Are you inviting us up because you want help reorganizing your closet?”

I looked at him. “I’m inviting you up because I had dinner with two men who managed to flirt, emotionally destabilize me, and look criminally good in every outfit I styled. So. No. Not for the closet.”

Yuki’s smile was softer. But his eyes held something heavier. “We don’t have to come in.”

I finally met his gaze. “I know.”

And I did. That was the thing. There was no pressure here—just possibility. The kind of quiet, magnetic maybe that I’d spent years writing off. But tonight? With them? It didn’t feel like a risk. It felt inevitable. I pushed the door open. And when I looked back over my shoulder, they were already following me in—Pierre with that devil-may-care confidence, Yuki with that quiet steadiness that somehow made me feel safer than I expected.

I closed the door behind us, letting the soft click of the lock settle between us. Pierre wandered further in, glancing around with casual curiosity—his fingertips dragging across the back of my sofa like he was trying to read the room through touch. Yuki stayed near the door. Watching me. Always watching.

“You really live like a Vogue editor,” Pierre murmured, picking up a coffee table book and flipping it open. “Minimalist. Expensive.”

“I try,” I said, leaning against the entry wall, pulse fluttering under my skin. “Want the tour?”

Yuki raised an eyebrow. “You offering… the apartment? Or something else?”

I blinked at him, and something must’ve shifted in my face, because he smiled like he already knew my answer.

“I don’t play games,” I said, quieter this time.

Pierre had crossed the room by then. He was in front of me before I realized how fast he’d moved, his hand ghosting along my hip. “Good. Because I’m not here to waste time.”

Yuki came closer too—slow and measured. His fingertips grazed mine as he passed me, just a brush, but I felt it in my spine.

“I just want to make sure you want this,” he said, voice low. “That this isn’t about wine or adrenaline or proving a point.”

I looked at him. Then Pierre. Two different energies. One storm. One fire. And somehow, I wanted to get lost in both.

“I invited you up, didn’t I?” I asked.

Pierre smiled like I’d handed him something precious. He leaned in first—his lips brushing mine, warm and teasing. Not claiming. Just tasting. Yuki’s hand slid up the back of my neck, fingers threading into my hair. His kiss came next. Slower. Like he had all night. Like I could take as long as I needed to decide. But I didn’t need long. I reached for both of them—tugging Pierre closer by his shirt, letting Yuki pull me against his chest, our bodies finding a rhythm I hadn’t even realized we’d been building all night. It wasn’t rushed. It wasn’t messy. It was intentional. Lips on my neck. Fingers on my waist. The kind of warmth that blooms low in your belly and makes you forget your own name. Somehow we made it to the bedroom without breaking apart too long. Jackets hit the floor. Pierre’s chain dangled against my skin. Yuki’s voice whispered things in Japanese that I didn’t understand but felt in my bones. They treated me like something rare. Reverent. Like I was the thing they’d both been waiting for. And when everything finally faded into soft moans and tangled limbs, when my skin was flushed and my breath shaky, I realized—This wasn’t just about pleasure. It was about belonging.

—

yn_hadjar

liked by isackhadjar, yukitsunoda0511, pierregasly & 2,090,555 others.

yn_hadjar : jet lagged as fuck so have a photo dump

—

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chanelofficial : always timeless 🩷🤍

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username0 : am i delusional or does that look like yuki in the bed??

↳ username15 : i thought the same thing but then the other pic looks like pierre

username0 : oh to be in a yukierre sandwich

isackhadjar : why is there an unknown man in your bed?

↳ yn_hadjar : who said he is unknown?

isackhadjar : i am ending it all

yukitsunoda0511 : don’t remember you taking that

liked by yn_hadjar

↳ yn_hadjar : u were 😴

username0 : not delusional.

pierregasly : white looks good on me, no?

liked by yn_hadjar

↳ yn_hadjar : you look good in anything

lilymhe : you are so beautiful it is insane

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↳ yn_hadjar : you are so kind 🥺

—

yukitsunoda0511

liked by yn_hadjar, pierregasly, isackhadjar & 1,220,005 others.

yukitsunoda0511 : dubyeeeeee

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pierregasly : still have frosting up my nose

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↳ yn_hadjar : my bad

username0 : unexpected trio on a vacay together??

yn_hadjar : was not prepared for a thirst trap on my feed

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↳ yukitsunoda0511 : don't act like you don't like it

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isackhadjar : are you just a professional third wheel now?

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↳ yukitsunoda0511 : mmm if third wheeling involves being apart of it then sure

username0 : YUKI

—

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yn_hadjar added posts to her story!

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{caption 1 : never let me drive in the sand} {caption 2 : i don't want to leave}

pierregasly : you are so beautiful

liked by yn_hadjar

isackhadjar : wait- why are you in dubai too??

↳ yn_hadjar : happened to be over here for something with work

↳ isackhadjar : oh ok

↳ isackhadjar : you look beautiful though ma sœur

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yn_hadjar : first nice thing you've said in years. love you

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alexandrasaintmleux : i think i am finally catching on here;)

liked by yn_hadjar

↳ yn_hadjar : glad someone is because isack sure isn't

yukitsunoda0511 : 美少女

liked by yn_hadjar

—

The desert stretched out endlessly beneath a blazing sky, waves of sand rolling like golden ocean tides. The sun was beginning to dip, casting long shadows and painting everything with a soft, honeyed glow. Yuki, Pierre, and I had escaped the noise of the city for a few hours, trading skyscrapers for silence and luxury for raw nature. We stopped the jeep on the crest of a dune, and the world felt impossibly vast and quiet. The wind whispered through the sand, carrying a scent of earth and something wild. I kicked off my shoes, letting the warm grains sift between my toes. Pierre pulled a blanket from the back of the jeep and spread it out. We settled down close, the three of us a small island of warmth in the wide, empty desert. Yuki reached out and took my hand, fingers threading together naturally, as if this had always been meant to be.

“I could stay here forever,” he murmured, eyes soft in the fading light.

I leaned into him, resting my head against his shoulder. Pierre draped an arm around both of us, and suddenly the desert didn’t feel so big anymore. It felt like home. As the sun sank lower, the sky exploded into color—pinks, oranges, and purples bleeding into one another. We sat in comfortable silence, watching the horizon burn and cool at once. Yuki whispered something funny, and Pierre laughed, the sound low and warm. The first stars began to blink awake above us, shy at first, then confident, until the entire sky was a glittering dome. I felt their hands tighten around mine, grounding me in that perfect moment. The desert was endless and timeless, but right there, wrapped in their arms, I knew exactly where I belonged.

—

The soft chime of the boutique’s doorbell barely registered as I stepped inside, still savoring the warmth of the Dubai sun on my skin. Yuki and Pierre followed close behind, both grinning like they were up to something—which, knowing them, they definitely were.

I was halfway through scanning the latest collection when Pierre’s voice pulled me from my thoughts. “Hey, have you seen that new limited edition bag from [your favorite designer]? The one with the gold clasp and the little pearls?”

I laughed, trying to play it cool. “Yeah, I’ve seen it. It’s beautiful, but honestly, a little impractical.”

Yuki raised an eyebrow. “Says the Vogue editor who probably writes about impractical all the time.”

Pierre winked. “We know you’ve been drooling over it for months.”

I tried to brush it off, but my heart sped up. I hadn’t said much—it was just a tiny detail I’d mentioned once, months ago, during a dinner with Yuki and Pierre. I never expected them to remember. Yuki tugged me toward a quiet corner of the boutique, where a sleek black box rested on a velvet cushion. My breath caught. Pierre opened the box slowly, revealing the bag—exactly the one I’d admired in magazines, the one I’d secretly dreamed of owning.

“Surprise,” Pierre said softly, watching my face light up.

I stared, speechless, the words caught somewhere between shock and joy.

“You actually remembered,” I finally whispered.

Yuki chuckled, sliding an arm around my waist. “Of course we did. You’re kind of hard to forget.”

I reached out, touching the bag like it was something fragile, something magical. “This is… you guys didn’t have to.”

Pierre grinned. “We wanted to.”

I laughed, eyes glossy, heart full. “You two are seriously impossible. But I love you for it.”

—

The soft glow of candlelight flickered across the table, casting warm shadows on crystal glasses and polished silverware. The restaurant was quiet, tucked away in a secluded corner of the hotel, and for once, the world outside felt miles away. Yuki reached across the table, gently brushing a stray lock of hair behind my ear. His touch was tender, deliberate, and it sent a shiver down my spine. Pierre caught my hand next, his fingers curling around mine with a quiet strength that grounded me. The way they both looked at me—like I was the only person in the room—made my heart swell.

“So,” Pierre said softly, voice low and steady, “how does it feel? Being spoiled by us?”

I laughed, eyes shimmering. “Like I’m living in a dream I never want to wake up from.”

Yuki’s grin was slow, mischievous. “Good. Because we’re just getting started.”

We talked through the courses, sharing stories and stolen glances. Every laugh, every brush of skin, pulled us closer. There was something electric in the way their hands found mine under the table—light touches that spoke of promises and possibilities.

Later, as the waiter cleared the plates, Yuki leaned in, whispering, “You make even the quietest moments feel unforgettable.”

Pierre’s eyes softened as he added, “We want to be part of your every moment, YN.”

I swallowed the lump in my throat, feeling overwhelmed with everything and nothing all at once. This wasn’t just a dinner. It was a beginning.

“I want that, too,” I whispered back. “With both of you.”

Yuki’s smile was pure warmth. Pierre’s fingers tightened around mine.

—

f1gossipgirls

89,003 likes.

f1gossipgirls : Things looked a little extra on the fashion front this morning—coincidence? We think not. @/yn_hadjar, Vogue France’s top editor (and big sister to Isack Hadjar), is in the paddock today… and suddenly the boys remembered what a steamer is. We spotted more linen, more color, and more intentional fits than we’ve seen all season. Let’s just say—if this is the YN Hadjar effect, we are absolutely here for it. Fashion queens, please stand up.

—

view 508 other comments.

username0 : ISACK-omg. @/yn_hadjar...do you want a sister in law??

↳ yn_hadjar : if you take over the duty of steaming his clothes...welcome to the fam

username15 : aw yn and ollie!! he rlly is her favorite rookie

↳ yn_hadjar : that's my boy. i don't play about him.

liked by olliebearman

username10 : it isn't the YN effect for Yuki and Pierre- it's the girlfriend effect.

liked by yn_hadjar, yukitsunoda0511 and pierregasly

username10 : OH MY GHDFNDKJ

isackhadjar : she held me down and threatened me to put on what she picked out.

↳ yn_hadjar : and clearly i did you a favor bc there is a comment section full of women waiting for you

isackhadjar : fair

oscarpiastri : yn i did not get the memo that you were here today. pls don't hurt me

↳ yn_hadjar : i forgive you

yukitsunoda0511 : she literally dressed me this morning so yes it is because of yn. everyone say thank you, yn!!

liked by yn_hadjar, pierregasly and f1gossipgirls

pierregasly : it is common courtesy to look good for someone as beautiful as yn

liked by yn_hadjar and yukitsunoda0511

↳ isackhadjar : barf. she is just my sister. not god.

↳ yukitsunoda0511 : ive seen god and god is a woman.

liked by yn_hadjar and pierregasly

username8 : YUKIIIIBD :fj

—

yn_hadjar

liked by isackhadjar, olliebearman, pierregasly & 3,030,053 others.

yn_hadjar : so cutesy

—

view 115,023 other comments.

isackhadjar : ollie and i carried this post

liked by yn_hadjar

↳ isackhadjar : also why are you letting random men hold our dog??

↳ pierregasly : you talk about me like im some common whore

liked by yn_hadjar

alexandrasaintmleux : you are ethereal. i am in love

liked by yn_hadjar

olliebearman : you are right. the gucci wrap was necessary for the outfit

↳ olliebearman : you ATE

liked by yn_hadjar

↳ yn_hadjar : add to the folder of reasons why ollie is my fave

yukitsunoda0511 : i do not remember anything from karaoke and i am glad i do not

liked by yn_hadjar

↳ yn_hadjar : i have videos if you need reminded

↳ maxverstappen1 : give them to me.

↳ lando : need

↳ olliebearman : pls share with the class

—

I was curled up on the couch with Yuki, his arm around my waist and his stupidly warm hands resting under the hem of my t-shirt, tracing lazy circles against my skin like he had no plans of moving for the next decade. We were watching the most unhinged documentary, but I’d let him pick because I liked hearing his dramatic commentary. It was peaceful. Dreamy. Domestic. Then the front door slammed open like we were in a horror movie.

“I BROUGHT DONUTS!” I heard Isack yell from the hallway.

I blinked. Yuki didn’t even flinch. He just muttered, “You gave him a key?”

“No,” I hissed back, still fully horizontal. “He stole it after fashion week. I just… forgot to take it back.”

And then Isack appeared in the doorway. Bag of donuts. Sunglasses on his head. Immediately offended.

“WHAT the actual hell is going on here?” he asked, eyebrows halfway into orbit.

“Breakfast,” Yuki answered flatly, as if he belonged here. As if my little brother hadn’t just caught him spooning me. I didn’t even bother sitting up. What was the point? It was already spiraling.

Isack’s jaw dropped. “Are you—YUKI?! You?! My teammate?! What the fuck?!”

“You know,” I said, grabbing a donut from the bag like this was brunch and not a betrayal, “you could’ve knocked.”

“You could’ve warned me before I walked into my literal teammate dry humping my sister on the couch!”

“We’re literally just cuddling,” I deadpanned. “Calm down.”

Yuki, to his credit, gave the most Yuki shrug of all time, like: yeah, this is happening, keep up.

“I’m gonna throw up,” Isack muttered. “I’m gonna throw up on your designer rug. You’re both—this is illegal. Against the sibling code. Against F1 regulations. This is—”

And then, like God decided this couldn’t get worse fast enough— Pierre walked out of the bedroom. Shirtless. Hair tousled. Stretching like he’d just woken from a coma.

“Oh no,” I muttered.

“Oh WHAT THE FUCK,” Isack shrieked.

Pierre froze mid-stretch, looked around, blinked. “Didn’t know we had guests.”

“WE DON’T,” Isack yelled. “WHO EVEN ARE YOU TO THIS STORY?!”

Pierre grinned. “Depends. What genre is it?”

I slapped a hand over my face. Yuki, still annoyingly calm, yawned. “Rom-com. Heavy on the com.”

Isack stared at the three of us, twitching like a sim about to catch fire. “This is a nightmare. I’m calling our mother. I’m calling the FIA. I’m calling God.”

“You want a donut before you have your little meltdown?” I asked sweetly, tossing one at his chest.

He didn’t catch it. It hit the floor.

“Unbelievable,” he said, turning and storming out. “I’m changing my last name. Don’t talk to me at the paddock. I’m disowning everyone in this room!”

“Love you!” Pierre called after him, totally unbothered.

“I hate it here!” Isack screamed from the hallway.

The door slammed shut again. Yuki looked down at me. “He took that well.”

I bit into my donut. “Honestly? Better than I expected.”

Pierre flopped back onto the couch, grabbing Yuki’s abandoned half-donut. “So… are we doing the pigeon documentary or something sexier?”

I groaned. “You two are never allowed to be shirtless in front of my brother again.”

Yuki just smiled. “Noted. We’ll wear robes next time.”

—

yn_hadjar

liked by pierregasly, olliebearman, yukitsunoda0511 & 5,090,777 others.

yn_hadjar : comments will be turned back on once isack stops having a meltdown (so never). however, i have two sexy men in my bed every night so idc.

tagged : pierregasly and yukitsunoda0511

—

user has disabled comments on this post.

—

pierregasly

liked by yn_hadjar, charles_leclerc, yukitsunoda0511 and 4,008,013 others.

pierregasly : my brother in law isack is not very happy with me rn so why not add fuel to the flame. love you bothhhhhh

tagged : yn_hadjar and yukitsunoda0511

—

view 175,090 other comments.

yn_hadjar : so cuteeee. love my boys

liked by yukitsunoda0511 and pierregasly

charles_leclerc : how did he not know?

↳ yn_hadjar : he was born naturally oblivious

liked by charles_leclerc, pierregasly and yukitsunoda0511

username0 : isack's recent google search is how to make yn - no yuki no pierre

liked by yn_hadjar

↳ yn_hadjar : i fucking love you lmao

isackhadjar : you are NOT my brother in law

↳ isackhadjar : i refuse

↳ isackhadjar : my eyes are still burning.

↳ isackhadjar : had to walk in on yuki practically having sex with my sister

↳ yn_hadjar : we were literally watching a pigeon documentary

↳ username20 : always thought isacks 2025 crashout would be racing related not due to pierre and yuki dating his sister.

—

yukitsunoda0511

liked by pierregasly, yn_hadjar, olliebearman & 2,097,008 others.

yukitsunoda0511 : love you both even if it means putting up with her brother and the fact that pierre is a blanket hog.

—

view 125,075 other comments.

pierregasly : love you more- even when you talk in your sleep

liked by yukitsunoda0511 and yn_hadjar

visacashapprb : we both ask that you both behave in a manner that is professional as you are teammates.

↳ yukitsunoda0511 : @/isackhadjar ^^^^

liked by yn_hadjar

lando : i need a diagram of who sleeps where

liked by yn_hadjar

↳ yn_hadjar : i sleep in the middle and those two switch sides like every 3-5 business days

liked by lando, pierregasly and yukitsunoda0511

yn_hadjar : my cutie pies

liked by yukitsunoda0511 and pierregasly

isackhadjar : i am the victim in this story and no one is talking about it

↳ pierregasly : isack erasure :(

↳ yn_hadjar : the only thing you are victim to is a horrendous fashion sense

↳ yukitsunoda0511 : yes you def are the victim after walking into an apartment that is not yours unannounced.

—

[mysterymachine67]

SO, i want you to hear me out.

i have to remember all my stuff for re, but let's say we have Leon when he's still just starting out as a cop before he even goes to raccoon city and our beloved reader is a captain in the police department. Leon is a little tired after it all, filing cases and spending nights at the station. eventually the reader catches Leon while he's finishing up documenting a case and they finally get to talking. sooner rather than later they discover they share a couple hobbies and slowly they begin to talk. Leon is stressed and who else but the captain of the station is going to help him and reward him for his hard work?

PAIRING -> Leon S. Kennedy x M!Reader

SUMMARY -> Leon’s new, a rookie. He does his best, stays late to do and catch up on work, and is one of the best men you got even for him to be new. What happens when he finally gets to have a full conversation with his captain?

NSFW. MINOR’S DNI.

I wanna bite him.

You’ve only known him for about a month and he’s already your favorite. Yes, you’re well aware you shouldn’t be picking favorites, but he stays late, gets papers done quick, and does things he doesn’t need to be doing until a whole month. Meanwhile all the other “older” cops think they get an extra week to do something just because they’ve been there longer. Which was not true whatsoever.

Back to Leon, you’ve spoken to him a bit. Probably not as much as you should, but the thought counts. As far as you know, he’s a hard worker and is dedicated to do his best. But you can also see that he try’s a bit too much. You’ll need to tell him he can take a step back every once in a while.

It was another night, Leon already knew he was gonna have to stay a few extra hours. Sighing he opened up a folder, taking out the notes and documents that were inside. He took a quick look at the papers, going over them yet again. Just as he was about to pull another thing out of the folder, he heard footsteps. Which immediately alerted him. Turns out the footsteps were yours, you were getting ready to leave the station and go home. With you standing there, looking at Leon without saying or doing anything, it was beginning to get awkward. Soooo, you spoke up. Clearing your throat first. “Well,” you begin, starting to walk up to him. “I think we haven’t fully gotten to know each other.” He stared up at you, blinking a few times before responding.

“Oh! Uh..” Leon started, but never seemed to finish. Not knowing what question to ask or how to start off. He stood up, though. Holding his hand out to shake yours, which you did as well. You then started a conversation, first asking a question then following up with a statement. Which this went on for at least fifteen minutes. The both of you going back and forth, asking questions about one another; finding out that you had some things in common and have similar interests. The conversation was sweet, interesting. Yet it took a turn when you got closer to him. It was friendly, not purposely meant to intimidate him or anything. He continued to look up at you, struggling to keep his composure. Why the hell was this so difficult? You kept up the conversation, tried to. You, yourself were starting to get a little amped up. You couldn’t stop stealing looks at his lips, which was a problem. You were his captain, not his fuck buddy.

The sexual tension between you guys was so obvious and strong, but neither of you made a move. That was until you couldn’t take it anymore. Your thoughts ran through your mind and eventually went down to your cock.

He was a stressed out, tired, hardworking man. If you two were to do something, this one night probably wouldn’t mean anything. He needed something—someone to help him. Being not necessarily pent up but in need of some sort of relief. And you were there with him, alone, in an empty police station possibly flirting with him. Yeah, this wouldn’t mean anything, right? Wrong. Things escalated, you moved things out of the way on his desk. Once in the clear, the two of you moved back. Lips connected while grabbing at each other. When he got close enough, he sat himself up on his desk. Hands then coming up to the sides of your face—holding while the two of you kissed. You angled yourself, pressing against him in a way that he could feel you’re hard-on. “Mm..” he groaned, muffled by your lips. Should he be doing this? Absolutely not. Is he going to do it anyway and savor this moment? Yes.

“Y’feel what you do to me? God—“ you huffed, against his mouth. “You work so hard—fuckin’ perfect.”

Leon whined, shifting his position so that he could wrap his legs around you and pull you impossibly close. His hands went down to your belt, starting to quickly undo it. After that was out of the way he started on your pants. Which in the process you bucked into his touch without even realizing. You captured his lips again, this time the kiss was nothing but tongue and teeth. The two of you needed each other so bad you kept messing things up. Fumbling with taking off clothes, knocking things over, accidentally forgetting to do something. But in the end, he still got your cock shoved into him as if he was gonna disappear within seconds.

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

The sweet, sweet sounds that left Leon’s mouth were heavenly. Mouth open, eyes shut, and head back against the table. His legs were wrapped around your waist, purposely squeezing to pull you closer to him—get your cock deeper than it already was. “Such a hard worker, aren’t you? The moment you got here you worked, ‘n worked, ‘n worked.”

Leon whined, dick jumping and twitching at your words. He clenched around you—beginning to squirm. God, he was pretty. The way he reacted to your touch, praise, and whatever else you gave him. The sheen of sweat all over his body made him glisten in the dim light. Which just added onto the list of things that made him fucking beautiful. You dragged your hips back slowly, then pushed forward at the same pace. Your thrusts were slow, yes, but you made up for it by making sure you were deep inside him.

When you sped up your pace Leon cursed under his breath. The brutal pace catching him off guard.

“Shit!”

“Nothin’ you can’t take.” You cooed.

He breathed out a whimper—legs twitching. You leaned down over him, pressing your lips to his skin. His eyes were shut, it was all beginning to be too much. Your cock pushing into him at a relentless pace, your words, your touch. His dick leaked and throbbed—begging for some sort of attention. But it all felt good. It was something he deserved for working so much, so hard. “Oh- ohh..” Leon moaned. He clenched around you, gripping your cock. It caused a low groan to crawl from your throat. Your lips trailed up and up, pressing a kiss to his collarbone before sucking a hickey. Then moving on to his throat, forcing him to move his head up.

In a few minutes, Leon’s back was arching, his hands gripped the edge of the table he was on, and he was moving his hips up into the air as he came. Spurts of white shooting from his tip, and onto his chest; staining that area white. He huffed, chest heaving as he fought to catch his breath. It didn’t help when you kept thrusting into him, even when your hips started to stutter and fuck up the rhythm you’d set. He began to squirm. A whine slipping from his spit slicked lips.

You moaned, hips jerking as you finally came. You filled him up with your cum, and watched as it soon started to leak and drip from his hole. He felt so full. Stuffed with your cock and your cum. “Fuck..” he whispered. It was silent for a few seconds, well, aside from you two trying to control your breathing. But once you got ahold of it, you leaned back down and whispered straight into his ear.

“We ain’t done.”

[lay-z]

🕊 Day 10 – Santa Soap and his most dangerous mission

A continuation to 🌨 Day 2 – Quaint, which means it’s set in the same universe!

Synopsis: At the annual Christmas party on base, you’re torn between making a quick escape and holding out to get a glimpse of someone special.

Pairing: Simon Ghost Riley x fem!Reader

Warnings/Info: No smut. | military!Reader; cussing; nicotine addiction; friendship; mutual pining; medical inaccuracies; humour; fluff; friends/teammates to lovers

Word count: 2.5k

↳ back to 🎅🏼 Masterlist ☃️

You’ve made the internal decision that you’ll clock the next bloody bastard who dares to approach you only to comment on your appearance tonight. The fact that you’re wearing a dress and heels and some makeup for a rare change, has definitely gained too much attention from the wrong crowd. 

Standing in a corner of the adapted and decorated event location, close to the ceiling-to-floor windows that lead to the equally decorated large balcony, you pick at the sleeve of your dress with one hand while holding an empty wine glass in the other, feeling yourself getting terribly antsy as the night progresses. 

Hell, it has already slipped your mind at this point in the evening, why you even decided to get all dolled up. You hate the attention from male soldiers here on base, especially superiors who might take it the wrong way, though you could care less about the rookies. You stand above their opinions and the rumours about you. 

You’re at a point where you’d kill for a ciggy right about now, but you’re trying to quit the dirty habit to start the New Year a better person than last. So, cold turkey, because you’re that determined and petty to quit after both Gaz and Soap taunted you about never being able to do it. On top of that, more alcohol is also not an option, because it would only worsen the need for a beloved cancer stick. 

Glancing at the watch on the wall, you see that it’s been barely an hour since you showed up here, and you’re already mentally debating if it’s appropriate to make an early escape back to your quarters. Perhaps you can dodge Captain Price on your way out, the man who’d secretly ordered you to socialize and mingle.  

However, in the back of your mind, there’s also that nagging voice that keeps making your stomach twist and knot with questionable words and thoughts, and desires, about your Lieutenant. 

You haven’t seen him yet… and most importantly, he hasn’t seen you!  

No, you didn’t dress up for Ghost, of course not. That would be so silly and frankly, also pathetic. 

“Oh, look at ye!” 

Once Soap’s voice reaches your ears over the noise of the surrounding crowd, you fear your eyes might roll back so far into your skull that they might get stuck this time.

You cross your arms over your chest awkwardly, still holding the empty wine glass, “Will you leave me alone already? No, I don’t wanna kiss under your fucking mistletoe and I’m not gonna call you ‘Santa Soap’, either.” 

Gaz practically spawns next to Soap, wearing a matching Santa hat like the goofy Scotsman, a drink in his hand, pearly whites gleaming in the dim light as he grins mischievously, “Now, why would you be such a grump on this fine evening, Sergeant? Our Santa here’s simply trying his best to spread the Christmas spirit.” 

Meanwhile, Soap nods enthusiastically while fetching another mistletoe from the inside pocket of his dark grey lumber jacket, just like the one you’d previously thrown away when he tried to make you kiss him earlier. 

“Did you seriously bring more than one?” 

Soap nods innocently, bright blue eyes shining with mirth and liquor, “Aye, ‘course. Cannae show up unprepared, my wee she-elf.” 

Gaz snorts, “Always pack enough ammo.” He nods approvingly and takes a sip of his drink. 

You roll your eyes again, “Ugh, shut up you two.” 

“Aw, are we a bit narky, eh? Need a ciggy that bad already, lassie?” Soap coos tauntingly, grinning boyishly when you scoff and turn your back to them dismissively, a clear pout on your red-painted lips. 

“I think she’s just vexed, because our Lt. didn’t show up yet.” Gaz mumbles into his glass, peeking over the rim as he gauges your reaction. 

That makes your breath falter momentarily, because have you been that obvious lately? 

After you spent that night on guard duty with Ghost a few weeks ago, you felt like you’d made progress with him. He’d opened up a bit about his childhood and past, though he always kept things sort of vague, and in return, you were soaking up each tiny bit of intel you could gather about him, eager to solve the puzzle – or get a glance of the display picture of the puzzles' carton, at least. 

The mystery about him didn’t stop your rapidly cementing crush on him, either. And it’s an odd feeling, falling in love, after so many years of successfully throwing yourself into your career instead of focusing on a possible romantic relationship. 

Who knew you’d find the latter at your bloody job of all places. 

You look down into your wine glass, swirling the last ruby droplet around as you bite your tongue, feeling your cheeks heat up in embarrassment. Here you are, thinking you were being sneaky with your growing – and much forbidden – infatuation with your superior.  

Soap nudges Gaz’ side while you’re not looking, shaking his head at his friend and teammate with his thick brows furrowed chidingly, making Gaz shrug in return, his expression apologetic before he lifts his drink up to his lips again. 

“Think I saw him head out on the balcony, lassie,” Soap remarks, his voice surprisingly serious and soft for a change, “If ye’re stealthy enough ye might catch him.” 

“We both know that’d be impossible, Johnny,” you retort languidly as you lift up the wine glass to slurp up the tiny droplet, “No one can sneak up on Simon. Plus, he’s not here, so stop lying.” 

“Simon?!” The men bark in unison, eyebrows shooting up as if you’d just insulted their mothers. 

“Oooh, since when are you two on first name basis?” Gaz inquires curiously, his warm brown eyes getting that familiar spark whenever he smells potential new gossip – gossip you won’t provide this time. 

“We’re not,” you lie, smacking your lips as you crave another drink – and a cigarette along with it, “– and if we were, I wouldn’t tell you, Garrick.” 

Soap snickers, stepping around you and giving your shoulders a few squeezes. He rubs them obnoxiously until you shrug him off with an annoyed click of your tongue and a glare over your shoulder. 

“Could you stop? You’re so annoying.” 

Gaz laughs as he watches you and Soap act like cat and dog, his eyebrow quirking with a knowing smile when Soap pries the wine glass out of your hand next, giving your back a soft shove towards the balcony doors.  

“Yeah, yeah, and I’ll keep bein’ annoyin’, so ye better take a breather now, sweetheart.” 

“Muppets,” you mutter under your breath, getting more agitated by their behaviour, “Both of you!” 

Gaz lifts his hands in surrender, chuckling as he takes a side step to let you walk past while you keep mumbling to yourself under your breath. 

“Risky,” Gaz remarks, flashing a grin at Soap once you’re out of ear shot, “This might be your best work so far… or a guaranteed arse kicking, MacTavish. You don’t think she’ll notice?” 

“Nah,” Soap sighs dreamily, looking in the direction you left in before he perks up again, “Let’s get another drink, eh?” 

As you step outside onto the balcony, you take a swift glance around before you immediately regret not bringing your jacket as the icy winds swirl about. 

Hugging your arms around yourself, you take a few sauntering steps farther out on the spacious balcony, admiring the fairy lights wrapped around the long railing and the clear night sky as you tip your head back to look at  the moon and stars. 

It’s still a wonder to you, how unique the sky looks in different countries; have you spent some of your time on deployments simply stargazing whenever you found yourself on guard duty and whenever you felt safe enough to do so. 

And suddenly, as the noises from inside, all the chatter and boisterous laughter and music, are simply muffled into the background, you feel utterly lonely and… strangely defeated. 

“What the hell am I even doing here?” You groan quietly and sigh deeply, warm breath puffing and fogging up in the cold. 

“That’s what ‘m askin’ myself.” 

Nearly jumping out of your skin with a gasp, you almost turn your ankle in your pumps as you flinch away from the dark corner to your right.  

You can only see the flickering flame of a lighter first, followd by the amber glow of a cigarette tip, blue smoke curling in the darkness and evaporating into nothingness, before the behemoth of a man steps out of the shadows towards you, like the grim reaper himself, living up to his name as Ghost. 

“Fucking hell, Simon,” you chide, still breathing heavily as you clutch your rapidly beating heart, though now it’s beating for a whole different reason, “You need to stop scaring people like that!” 

“Not my problem you’re jumpy like a little bunny.” He retorts gruffly, though you can clearly hear the smile in his voice before you can see it. 

His simple, black balaclava is rucked up over his nose again as he takes another lazy drag of his cigarette while his dark eyes give you an agonizingly slow once over, one that has your heart flutter and your cheeks burn. He keeps the smoke in his lungs as he speaks, “You look nice. Different.” He exhales.

Needless to say, you don’t clock him for that. 

“Different,” you repeat under your breath as you look at him; drinking in the exposed, pale skin of his neck, his cheeks, his mouth, as always. You notice that he shaved. He’s wearing a pair of jeans that clings to his muscular thighs nicely, a dark hoodie and black leather jacket along with boots. 

He looks nice. Hot, actually. God... he’s so hot... 

“Aye, different as in nice. Want me to tell ya that you’re beautiful?” He asks bluntly, taking another drag, “Would feel wrong to tell ya that now, lass. You were already beautiful without all –“ He makes a vague gesture to your face and dress, “– ‘o that.” 

“Okay, thanks.” You squeak; your throat now terribly dry. There is nothing you would love more than snatch the cigarette from his thick fingers to take a greedy drag and calm your jangled nerves. 

“Mhmm,” he hums, then and doesn’t stop staring; his onyx eyes flickering over your form as if he’s assessing you. 

“Why are you out here anyway?” He makes another gesture at your outfit, “Dressed like that. It’s too cold, ya dafty.” 

You could ask him the same, but you feel like you know the answer to that. He hates crowds and avoids social gatherings if he can help it, but Price has ordered him to attend just like he did you. 

“I just... needed some air,” you shrug and Ghost nods as he fetches a pack of smokes from his chest pocket, flicking the lid open with his thumb before holding it out to you. 

Your fingers twitch against your arms, nails clawing into the fabric of your dress while your nostrils flare as you get a whiff of sweet, sweet tobacco. But then, the nagging voices of Gaz and Soap echo in your mind, and if they would catch you smoking out here, you’d never hear the end of it – and frankly, that’s not worth your nerves. 

“Can’t,” you croak out, refusing reluctantly. Your eyes flit from his offer up to his eyes while he raises an eyebrow under his mask questioningly, “I quit.” 

Ghost snorts, flicking the lid closed again, “Why?” The small pack disappears back into his pocket. 

“Someone told me it’s unhealthy,” you jest with a small shrug, hugging your arms tighter around yourself as the cold starts seeping into your bones. 

“Hmpf,” he hums again and pauses before he takes another slow drag, “What an arsehole.” He exhales through his nose, smoke curling into the air as he smiles bemusedly. 

And then, there is a tense pause as you watch how the golden glow of the surrounding fairy lights reflect in his dark brown eyes, adding a sudden soft warmth to his lingering gaze. 

“Can you blow some smoke in my face?” You ask, biting your inner cheek before adding, “I read that’s what pregnant ladies do when they struggle to quit smoking at once.” 

“Bollocks.” He barks out a laugh, flashing his slightly crooked teeth you’ve come to adore so much. Teeth who’ve been broken violently and been fixed too many times. 

“It’s true!” You whine playfully, chuckling along with him, and then he gives you an odd look, his lips tighten into a line before he speaks, “Close yer eyes.” 

Your stomach does a flip at his soft-spoken command, your heart flutters violently as he takes a step closer, taking a long drag. And then, you do as he says and close your eyes, tilting your head back expectantly. 

A few seconds later, the warm caress of his breath and thick cigarette smoke brush over your cold skin, making your skin pebble underneath your dress. You inhale greedily, lips parting slightly as you try to catch the taste of it discreetly. 

“More?” He rasps and you nod slowly, keeping your eyes closed, “Yes, please.” You utter softly. 

Another few seconds later, you hear the crunch of boots on concrete, and then you suddenly feel the tentative press of chapped lips on yours. 

Your eyes squeeze together, and you nearly pull back in shock, but his hand is already cupping the back of your head gently, his other warm mammoth hand resting on your waist; his body heat seeping through your dress as he closes the distance between your bodies. The fabric of his balaclava brushes against your face as your noses nudge together before makes you tilt your head. 

He kisses you slowly, somewhat clumsily, as if he’s calculating and overthinking each move of his lips, but by God, it’s good. So good, and so much better than you always imagined, because it’s real.  

Your hands slip to the front of his broad, buff chest, fingers clutching his open leather jacket and holding on for dear life as your brain starts to shut off. The tip of his tongue brushes against the seam of your mouth and your lips part wider on instinct. His tongue dives in, seeking and rolling against yours almost timidly, and you can taste the nicotine, the whiskey, and the remnant minty taste of his toothpaste. 

When a soft moan is torn from your throat, his hand squeezes your hip and his fingers brush through your hair before he grips the nape of your neck, holding you in place when he pulls back, breaking the first kiss you shared.

Your breaths mingle, hot and panting, as you gaze at each other with half-lidded eyes. His heart is thudding harshly against his chest, feeling it clearly beneath your palm, though it matches your own rapid heartbeat. 

“...’m sorry, bunny,” Ghost says eventually, his voice rough and husky, his lips still brushing yours as he speaks, “I just... couldn’t keep ignoring that bloody mistletoe.” 

[simplyhughes]

A Hughes Summer: The Arrival

Synopsis: A Hughes Summer is an ongoing series about a HughesSister!Reader x Connor Bedard! This will follow multiple scenarios of their summer together spent at the infamous Hughes Lake House! If there are any specific scenarios you’d like to see, please let me know! Thanks for reading!

Content Warning: none!

Pairing: Connor Bedard x Hughes!Reader

Part One

wc: 1k

Navigating dating the best rookie in the league while being surrounded by three brothers, all notable players themselves has been extremely chaotic, to say the least. Hockey has permeated all corners of my life, not that I necessarily mind, but being born into a hockey family has definitely altered my taste in men. Connor, my boyfriend, and my trio of brothers have clashed on the ice before, obscured by layers of gear, battling fiercely for the puck. But today marks the moment of formal introduction, and I can't deny the flutter of nerves within me. My brothers are intense; Quinn has this odd maternal instinct toward me, Jack is just downright wild... and with Luke, I'm actually not too concerned, as long as I keep him supplied with a snack to gnaw on.

As the 2024 hockey season drew to a close, Connor and I made the spontaneous decision to embark on a road trip from Chicago to Michigan, where I planned to introduce him to the beloved Hughes summer lake house tradition. Every summer for as long as I can remember, my family has spent the majority of the summer in Michigan, lounging at the lake house. With every mile closer to our destination, my heart quickened its pace, anticipation mingled with nerves as the moment of collision between my two worlds drew near. Yet, amidst my own jitters, I couldn't help but notice the anxiety radiating from the driver's seat beside me, where Connor sat, his nerves seemingly even more pronounced than mine.

It seemed like he was on a timer; every couple of minutes, he dragged his palms against his thighs, wiping his sweat to keep his grip on the wheel. In between that, he’d run his hands through his hair and check his reflection in the rearview mirror. After watching him do this a few times, I couldn't help but chuckle. Connor glanced over at me before turning back to the road and smiled. “What?” he chuckled back at me.

“You are just cute, that's all,” I replied, still with a smile plastered on my face.

“Oh yeah?”

“For Sure”

The car fell into silence for a minute. It was a comfortable silence, but you couldn't help but feel bad that he was nervous. “Connie, they are gonna love you. I promise.”

“I really hope so, y/n.”

“I know they don't know you yet, but I do know they already admire your skill and drive. But they are gonna love you, promise.”

Connor looked at me, his eyes softened and gave me his signature lopsided smile. I stretched my arm out to the car's console and turned up the radio's volume.

The car rumbled along the graveled, mud-plastered driveway, flanked by towering trees that resembled skyscrapers, the only resemblance to the city we had just departed. Finally, the vehicle came to a halt. Connor shifted the gear to park and wiped his palms once more. He unbuckled his seatbelt, popped the trunk, and went to retrieve some of our luggage from the back. Before handling our belongings, Connor opened my door and offered me a hand. I grasped his hand, stepping out of the car.

“Thank you, Con. Chivalry isn't dead, I suppose. But you gotta do something about the sweat, baby,” I teased.

His eyes rolled, and he bumped me jokingly with his hip. Together, we made our way to the trunk. As I started to gather my things, Connor swiftly snatched the bags from me.

“Hey!” I yelped.

“Chivalry,” he smirked.

Connor, busy with all the bags, let out a huff as he unloaded his arms on the front porch. I rammed my finger into the doorbell multiple times, rapid-fire style, just to annoy my brothers.

“HOLY SHIT MAKE IT STOP!” I heard one of my brothers yell, muffled by the walls. The door swung open revealing the shortest of the three brothers. “QUINNIFER!” I shouted, jumping into his arms. “Hey, Peanut!” he shouted back. We shuffled back into the house where I was then greeted by the other two. After almost being squeezed to death, the attention shifted to the awkward blonde standing alongside the bags. I cleared my throat, “Guys, this is Connor!”

“Hey man, it’s nice to finally meet you,” Quinn said, giving him a handshake. Luke followed suit while Jack just stayed back. The middle brother narrowed his eyes, watching his other brothers greet the new guy. “Jack quit being a dickhead and say hello.

“I’m just busting his chops y/n, don't worry,” Jack smirked. “What's up?” He finally spoke, shaking Connor's hand.

“Quinny, can you please handle our bags while I give Connor the grand tour?”

“Whatever, anything for my favorite sibling,” he replied, immediately getting hassled by the other two.

I managed to grab Connor's hand and sneak him around the brawl leading him into the living room. His eyes trailed along the pictures that decorated the mantle; pictures that told the Hughes’ past summers, the quilt that was draped against the couch; the quilt that was ripped and resewn back together, it held too many memories to throw out. He soaked in the room, observing all the details laid before him. I plopped down onto the couch, also soaking everything in. “What do ya think?” I questioned.

“I think that you were adorable,” Connor gushed while picking up a framed picture from almost 14 years ago. He looked it over for another minute, then put it back down in its spot. I smiled watching Connor, seeing him in this house that meant so much to me. He fit in so perfectly, it’s like he's been here all this time. My smile only grew thinking about the events this summer longs to unfold, how this will be his first summer in Michigan with many more to follow.

[gay-meowmeow]

i saw @maybe-boys-do-love say something about a QL family tree, so i will putting my useless knowledge of knowing who's related to who, to use❤️

Part.1

First up we have our beloved director of many of our favorite series and the 1/2 of the leads from the iconic bl series that started it all, Lovesick, New and Captain

New & Captain works

We have newcomers(kinda) Jaylerr(Spare Me Your Mercy, Great Men Academy) and PJ(Gelboys)

Jaylerr & PJ works

Our twin icons who deserve to be leads in their own series, AJ and JJ

AJ & JJ works

We have the walking Manhwa man himself and his cutie patootie bro who is getting a bl of his own, Win and Mick

Win & Mick works

We have the father of my(and Babe's) children and his rookie actor baby brother, Billy and Franky

Billy & Franky works

[significant-narratives]

once again it’s such a shame we didn’t get to see kniesy get tangled up in a leafs jersey at the draft. genuinely a travesty.

[serviceable-mechanism]

As passover rolls around again this year, i think it's a good opportunity to examine the fascinating interaction between capitalism's neverending drive towards profit seeking, and a product specifically designed to be unpleasant and unappetizing

Passover, for the unaware, is a time when (particularly strong willed) practicing Jews abstain from risen bread and a fair variety of other grain-based foodstuffs, and eat matzah in their place, to commemorate the historical suffering of the Jewish people. As such, matzah itself, the bread of affliction, is specifically intended to be, more or less, pretty bullshit. It's hard and nearly flavorless and cold and boring and nothing at all like warm soft beautiful sourdough bread my beloved (may we be reunited soon). As a result, attempting to sell matzah puts advertisers in a difficult position, presented with the task of making this horrible bullshit (i like the soup, okay?) look like something one would choose to eat outside of the confines of religious tradition

To commemorate this holiday, I'd like to look at a few of the approaches they have taken

Manischewitz

Right off the bat, we've got the brand recognition to carry this one through, and to be honest that's largely all a good box of matzah should need, considering the 99% of the time it will be bought out of obligation. Often considered to be the "autism of religions" Judaism is a faith that celebrates the importance of tradition above all else, so Manischewitz is going to have an advantage from jump. That said, I find the phrase "perfect for Passover" to be particularly redundant in this context. If you're Jewish, it hardly needs to be said, and if you're not, well, please eat something that tastes good instead

7/10

2. Manischewitz (again)

Here's where we hit our first roadblock. In addition to the brand name being sized down, thus lessening the advantage granted by cultural cache, this particular product makes what I would consider to be a rookie mistake. Onion flavoring. That is, they attempted to make matzah taste good. While tempting, this is ultimately an error. It's not supposed to taste good. It was designed and perfected by our most talented artisans for three thousand years to be be the culinary equivalent of watching paint dry. It is absolute hubris to believe yourself capable of turning that into an appetizing snacking treat with the addition of a little bit of onion powder

4/10

3. Streit's

In general, this one is not particular offensive in any direct sense. It has bold, bright colors, and a clear image of the product. I feel that "thin and crispy" is a particularly unnecessary addition, as, yeah man I should sure hope they are, and the addition of (light) salt edges this just a little closer to attempting to taste good, but these are relatively minor complaints. My true issue with this is the assertion that this matzah is meant to "pair with soups, spreads, and salads." This is false advertising

5/10

4. Yehuda Matzos

On the surface this appears to be a relatively inoffensive example, but the longer one looks, the more the cracks begin to show. The images present give off a particularly sickly yellow quality that makes them just a tad less appetizing than they already would be, and the description of them as "Matzo-Style Squares" really sells the unsettling quality of this whole display. And they're also gluten free. Yes, I know some people have dietary restrictions, but as far as I'm aware, most people who are gluten free already don't eat all that much bread anyways, and with the helpful acknowledgment that this particular product is "not a replacement for matzo at the Seder" as in the one time where actually eating the stuff is part of suggested tradition, I fail to see a scenario in which these things are consumed. It also, obviously, loses points for the "Imported from Israel" banner in the lower corner, though I'll get into that in a moment

3/10

5. Holyland

There is basically just the one advertising strategy being employed here. It's subtle, but with a keen eye I'm sure you can figure it out. The natural issue, of course, is that it's an inherently polarizing one. It positions itself such that one's political alignment is the only deciding factor in the decision to purchase it, and without other appealing characteristics, this is ultimately a losing strategy.

Obliviously, the primary issues here would be the ongoing genocide and human rights abuses, but as that's largely out of the scope of this particular post, I'd like to focus on how inappropriate a pro-Israel message is when it comes to the celebration of Passover specifically. Ultimately, the story of Passover is that of Jewish escape from bondage and slavery, leading to a forty-year of wandering through the desert looking for a home. That is, it is a celebration of the history of the Jewish people specifically as a diaspora. As the period of Jewish chattel slavery in Egypt is considered apocryphal from a modern lens, one should approach the narrative not as an earnest recounting of true events, but as a metaphor for the Jewish condition as a whole. And from this framework we understand the forty years in the desert searching for a homeland not to be a specific literal stretch of history, but instead a collective journey that the Jewish people undertake, to escape antisemitism broadly. Considering how antisemitism is alive and well to this day, one must come to the obvious conclusion that this is a journey we are still in the middle of. In addition to the fact that ethnostates as a whole are an evil endeavor, the idea that Israel should exist at all, is, from a Jewish perspective, incredibly hubristic and antithetical to the message Passover means to instill in us.

0/10

6. Streit's (again)

To lighten the tone somewhat, here we have something almost passable. Passover matzah. That's what it's for, that's what it is. And with what appears to be a depiction of the bitter herbs meant to be consumed alongside the matzah during a traditional Passover seder, this branding subtly hints at the clear implication: you are eating this because of your traditions. No attempt is made to make the matzah itself look good, and I respect that. That said, I balk at the idea of purchasing an entire five pounds of the stuff, but that inherent revulsion is in conflict with my desire to find out what exactly the "Passover game" enclosed inside entails.

7/10

7. Yehuda Matzos

I hate this. No, I will grant you, matzah is not supposed to be good. You are meant to long for the taste of bread. You need to want it. But, at the same time, there's no need to make it taste worse than it already does. It may be the bread of affliction, but, like, maybe not too afflicted, and I really think that making it whole wheat ruins my last shred of enjoyment of the stuff. This one's also from Israel

3/10

8. Streit's (again)

Go fuck yourself.

0/10

9. Rakusen's of Yorkshire

There's really a lot to say with this one. From the completely superfluous "vegan" sticker in the lower left hand corner (they're flour and water), to the helpful description of these as "crackers." There is just such a monumentally small target audience for this. I'm sure the population of British Jews excited to celebrate the coronation of King Charles with a holiday snack...exists, I don't imagine they're particularly numerous. Also, doing some research, King Charles' coronation took place on the sixth of May, 2023, while Passover of that year took place between the fifth and thirteenth of April. What event could this possibly be appropriate at? Having them for the coronation itself would mean eating matzah outside of the timeframe in which it is specifically necessary to do so (untenable), and having them for Passover of that year means saving this box in your pantry for a month so you can get questioning and uncomfortable looks from your friends and relatives during the Seder. Additionally, I really can't tell if I think it's antisemitic or just pretty funny that they thought a possibility of winning money was one of the best ways to advertise matzah.

1/10

10. Streit's (once again)

Finally. Now, here is something to be celebrated. Note the helpful yellow ribbon in the lower right corner, and the glaringly prominent "UNSALTED" staring us in the face. No salt, no flavoring, no bells, no whistles. There is nothing here to differentiate this particular product from any other box of matzah, except the specific advertising flourishes being utilized. And what flourishes would those be, precisely? "For each box of this matzah that goes unsold, a woman will die of breast cancer. This will be on you." That's right. Sure, you can rely on creative flavoring, to mask the taste of bitter affliction. You can offer cash prizes, nationalist posturing, or an appeal to tradition. But only Streit's is out here advertising their matzah the right way. The Jewish way. With guilt.

Buy our matzah. If you don't, you're a bad person.

10/10

[songsofadelaide]

prism — a side story to cosmic.

cw: captain narumi x (f) platoon leader, established (secret) relationship, fluff and smut, takes place between iv and v of cosmic. no use of 'yn'. narumi gen is his own warning. minors do not interact.

wc: 3k

You were no stranger to an observant eye. As a Platoon Leader, you were subject to your superiors' watchful surveillance and your team members's discerning gazes. It came as no surprise to you when the Captain of the First Division presented you with an upgrade to your beloved personal weapon, the submachine gun marked FE-0080 or Reginleif and asked for you to demonstrate your marksmanship that brought Asakusa's scorpion-type Honju to its knees.

So you acquiesced to your Captain's command and joined the rookies in their shooting training. You didn't back down from a posed challenge, after all, and you impressed your platoon members and fellow Platoon Leaders once more with your precise marksmanship. 

When Gen first took notice of your personal weapon, he surmised it was specifically made to pair with your speed. Anything heavier would weigh you down. Reginleif was a submachine gun made for more close combat offensives and had less firepower than a machine gun or a rifle, but it made up for its lack of strength with its speed and automatic mechanism.

"Unleashed Combat Power is at 67%."

As you finished setting a record for the rookies to beat, whispers from other division members filled the air. 

"The Platoon Leader's super quick, huh? It's almost like she vanishes into thin air."

"She even beat Platoon Leader Tachibana during the joint training exercises between the Eastern Divisions. That's how Captain Narumi discovered her."

"Speaking of which, she and the Captain have been spending a lot of time together..."

Gen himself didn't notice the amount of time you two were spending together. It was lost to him, but the memory of his enjoyment remained— you coming to see him, summoned or not. One day, your presence simply became natural, like a second instinct, until it became a necessity, especially for him.

You sitting next to him in his office, sometimes as Player 2 but most of the time just plain old you. You in your tracksuit uniform with nothing but a white tee underneath. You mindlessly scrolling through your social media while he stormed through whatever game he was playing, warming his bed until you had to leave him— whether it was due to an emergency or just because the day had ended. The sound of your laughter and derision filled his office and he can't seem to snap out of his compulsion to steal the rest of your sound straight away from your lips. 

He signalled for the end of the shooting training after the rookies concluded their rounds and dismissed everyone for the rest of the afternoon. 

"Captain Narumi, sir," you called out to your superior, who had just finished checking the Operation Leader's report handed to him by your Vice Captain. 

"Platoon Leader."

"One of my team members is celebrating their birthday today. They're planning a short trip to the city for drinks this evening," you started as you shadowed Gen's steps back to the base's main hall. "As much as I would love to finish our Maelduin's Portal campaign from earlier, my platoon would appreciate being able to spend some time with me, and I with them. I hope you're amenable, of course…"

He wanted to disagree with you but didn't want to come off as increasingly needy, especially since he knew now that people were already talking about how much time you've been spending together. Was he being needy? 

"Enjoy the rest of your evening, then."

Because he certainly didn't.

Your platoon arrived back at base a little before 21:00 and the first thing you wanted to do was take a dip into the baths because you were certain you smelled terrible— a smorgasbord of alcohol, barbecue smoke and cigarette ash, no thanks to the old smokers seated next to your group's long table.

But Gen had other plans in mind that derailed your quick trip to the baths. 

A single notification lit up from your mobile phone as you placed it on the desk in your personal quarters. 

[ N. Gen-隊長: I'm outside your room. ]

"Captain Narumi?" You quietly called for him, a tender smile on your face as you opened your door for him. "Did you wait for me all this time?" 

Gen smelled like he just got out of the bath, ready to go to bed, while you still smelled of smoke and alcohol. Still, he didn't think twice before embracing you, which you hesitantly returned. 

"I still smell like alcohol…" You murmured into the crook of his neck as you gently played with the hair on his nape. "Pretty sure I taste like it, too…"

"I don't really care…" He murmured before diving in for a kiss. Sure enough, you tasted like an evening out, the bitter taste of beer still lingering in your mouth. 

"Hey," you said as you gently broke your kiss. "You might be fine with this, but I'm not. I-I mean the way I smell. Please, Gen, let me take a quick bath. I promise I'll be back in five— no, ten minutes. I'll be back and let's pick up where we left off, okay?"  

Not even the grumble that left his lips could stop you from grabbing your basket of toiletries plus a change of clothes and leaving him for a bath you promised would be quick. 

It was only in the quiet that he realised it was his first time here in your personal quarters. It's always been you visiting him in his office but rarely did you invite him over— for reasons now clear to him. 

Your room was incredibly bare, even for a Platoon Leader. Apart from the standard furnishings provided by the Defense Force, nothing in that place anchored you there or made known to others that it was your lodging. You kept no trinkets or little decorations, and on your desk sat your mobile phone, which even had the default wallpaper on. 

It had no passcode, either, and he found himself there aptly named 'Captain Narumi Gen' when he took a peep at your messages. All the people in your phonebook were properly labelled and addressed, such as your parents, your elder brother Kanata and his wife Marie, your squad leaders Akabane, Kagomura, Ookawa, and your fellow Platoon Leaders. 

You kept no notes, even fewer photos, and Gen was filled with this awful dread that you'd leave no trace behind if anything ever happened to you. His thoughts were soon replaced by a wave of comfort when he plopped down on your bed. "At least your pillows smell like you…"

He almost nodded off too if not for your arrival. You were still a little damp from your quick soak, your skin still warm and balmy as you shut your door behind you. "Are you still awake, Captain?"

"Yeah, I am. S'impossible to fall asleep here in your room," he said as he sat up again, quietly observing the way you neatly stashed your belongings in your single closet. 

"Really, now? I'd expect you to get a good night's rest here since I have a proper bed and all," you chuckled at his response. "Or are you so used to sleeping on a futon that a bed's uncomfortable for you?"

"No. Your bed… smells like you," he stated, a hand sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck this time. You were fresh out of the bath, still practically buzzing with warmth, and it made him uneasy in an exciting way. "It's…"

"Is it nasty?" You asked as you made your approach. You were in similar standard white shirts and black sweatpants and Gen visibly swallowed as you sat closely next to him. "Captain Narumi?"

"Don't… Don't call me that now," he grunted at you, his lip trembling in anticipation as you raised a hand to cup his cheek. 

"Gen…" 

Ah, his name sounded so, so sweet whenever it left your lips, but this time even more, and he was this close to stealing that sweetness himself if you hadn't scooched over to kiss him yourself. It was tender and affectionate and somewhat apologetic, tasting of green tea mouthwash this time, until you broke away from him and stuck out your tongue to lick the corner of his mouth.

You did it in such a teasing manner but he couldn't even smile— because he was already so, so hard. He pulled out his erection from under his sweatpants and guided your hand to it, his breath hitching as he felt your warm fingers curl around his length and stroke him at a leisurely pace.

Though you couldn't see his eyes, you were certain he had a heady, cloudy, half-lidded gaze on you. He followed your steady movement with bated breath as you got down on your knees and placed yourself between his thighs. 

"Doing it here in my room has its advantages," you told him as you started stroking him again, your breath ghosting over his length. "No one's gonna come in here unannounced…"

Gen let out a low hiss when you flicked out your tongue and slowly licked the tip of his cock, taking all the time in the world to do so. 

"Ggh… S-Stop it already—" He grunted yet again, and though he told you to stop, it was clear he meant otherwise by the way he had a guiding hand on the crown of your head. "Ugh…"

Hearing the sound of his voice dipping and straining in pleasure encouraged you to do even better for him. He shuddered as you gradually received him in your mouth. 

…Maybe he did find a way to tame that smart mouth of yours after all. 

The pace of your blowjob was pleasant, but you knew he was close by the way his thighs closed around you. He tried to wriggle away from you, but you shook your head at him and gently picked up the pace, your cheeks hollowed out as you sucked on him a bit more. 

He took your refusal to let him go as a sign that you'll receive his seed in your mouth, so he obliged you, his body convulsing as he held your head in his hands. A low, guttural moan he obviously tried to suppress escaped his lips as you swallowed his cum, thick strings stuck in the back of your throat, and you eventually released him with a soft 'pop' from your slightly swollen lips. 

"My good girl," his praise was caught between his soft exhales. He pulled you up into his arms and allowed you to tenderly sweep back his hair that curtained his lovesick gaze. 

"You're so handsome," you told him with a smile, your fingers gently toying with the hair on his nape once more. Gen adored being the recipient of such compliments, even more so from you, but he still gets embarrassed from time to time. He's red up to his neck now, his hands warm on your waist. 

"My good girl," he said yet again, his wine-coloured eyes holding your own heady gaze. One hand wandered underneath your shirt while the other dipped under the waistband of your sweatpants, deft fingers rhythmically running over the moistness between your legs. His lips curl into a teasing smile as your expression fades into one of pleasure.

He was already hard again, but he didn't want to be so greedy. Neither did he want the night to end so soon. He did away with your clothes, all similarly and carelessly tossed aside as he motioned for you to lie down on your back for him. A glint of mischief lit his eyes as he placed himself between your legs, lowering his face to your thighs, peppering them with light and faint kisses before he eventually opened his mouth to taste you. 

Another rapid rush of pleasure shot through your body as he gripped your thighs and happily ate you out, playing deaf to your impatient whines as he leisurely and unhurriedly licked and lapped at your folds.

"Tell me what you want, my good girl," Gen whispered, his low and lazy voice hot against your sopping pussy. He already knew what you wanted by the way you ground against his mouth, the burning sultriness between your legs threatening to overflow onto the rest of his face. He slid a finger knuckle-deep into you and thrust at what he believed was an agreeable pace given the sound of your moans, which you were trying your hardest to suppress.

His fingers were skilled and reached the places you never could on your own, but you needed more. "P…"

"If you tell me, 'please put it in my pussy', then I'll do it."

Oh, you wanted to hurl so many complaints at him, but your impatience already showed in your countenance and he was clearly enjoying this. "Well? Hurry up and say it."

"M… My p… ah…" You pathetically whimpered at him, your voice cracking as he broke into another crooked grin.

"Use your words, my pretty girl. I can't really understand you."

Tears welled in the corners of your eyes as you relented to his teasing, your legs quivering at the leisurely pace he's taken. "Please… Please put it in my p-pussy…!"

It didn't take long for Gen to take charge after hearing you plead for him so earnestly. He was already as stiff as a pole, anyway, so he angled himself over you and slid his length over the burning wetness of your pussy before thrusting into you. 

The pace he moved at was gratifying for you both, the sound of your whines was enough of a confirmation for him. 

"Ah…" You coiled your arms around his neck, trembling at his warm touch, his calluses rough yet ticklish against your skin, especially when he sank his fingers into the plushness of your breasts. "Gh…"

Why does it feel like this? You managed a thought as he fucked you deep into your sheets and mattress, the sound of your soft moans and his pleased groans filling the air in the room. You knew you'd be dead if someone else heard you, but you couldn't consider being considerate now— because he's s-so good…!

Gen's bangs fell over his eyes again, hiding away the blissed-out look on his face. He knew it didn't matter that much to you anymore and neither did it to him— because all he could think about at that moment was burying his cock deep into you— fuck good manners and propriety!

You were seeing stars now, his pace slightly rushed and rough and it could only mean that he was just as close to finishing as you were. "D-Don't… don't stop…"

But he knew he had to. He was smarter than this. He knew he had to pull out. You couldn't afford to— at a time like this, too! 

Yet in between his blissed-out euphoria and common sense was a single thought: a family. With you. Your stomach round with a child that was a heap of trouble like he was—

"P-Please, Gen… I'm so close…!"

He snapped back to his sweet reality— your walls tightening around him as he thrust with even more urgency this time. 

"Cum for me, then, my good girl," he managed to chuckle at you. You choked out another small cry as tears filled your eyes again in a wave of oscillating pleasure, your spasms making it difficult for him to pull out as he intended. 

"Y-You can cu—" 

Gen pulled out of you panting the moment you were about to say he could finish inside you instead, opting to spill his scorching cum all over your stomach. He caught his breath before flicking his middle finger on your forehead with all his tender might. 

"Ow! Wh-What was that for?!"

"At least let me put a ring on you before you ask me to cum inside ya!"

"You didn't have to hit me that hard."

"It wasn't even that hard."

A large bandaid was spread over your forehead where your boyfriend last exacted his violence on you. Your quiet breakfast for two at the mess hall the following morning was cut short when Eiji sat next to Gen with his breakfast, along with a clean folder that contained only two sheets of paper.

"Good morning, Narumi. And the Platoon Leader, too. Once you're done eating, I'll need you two to fill out these forms," he stated as he handed you one of the sheets with a header in bold letters that read Workplace Relationship Disclosure Form.

"O-Oh," came your slightly startled reaction as you realised what it was. You placed down your utensils and read the information that had to be filled out. "S-So, do I write 'boyfriend' here? This is so embarrassing…"

"The hell do you mean it's embarrassing? Are you embarrassed to be with me? Embarrassed that I'm your boyfriend?!" Gen yapped at you as he filled out the form handed to him. You were shocked to see him filling out the paperwork himself, even more so when he wrote 'fiancée' next to your name. 

"If there is anything to be embarrassed about, it's keeping your fellow Platoon Leaders awake at night because of your… raucous behaviour," your Vice Captain stated with a feigned cough, and though it was clearly addressed to you, his sharp gaze was directed at your Captain. "If you don't want the top brass to hear about this and mete out a punishment for you both, I suggest you refrain from doing it here at base."

"O-Of course, V-Vice Captain Hasegawa! It won't happen again!" You squeaked at the older man and gave him a stiff bow. 

Gen gaped at your quick surrender before eventually turning to Eiji, who had yet to start his meal. "Haa? We're actually doing important work here! They can consider this our attempt at preserving my lineage, Japan's Strongest— Ow!" 

The older man flicked his middle finger at the young Captain's forehead this time. "Since everyone's talking about you two anyway, let's give them more to gossip about. But I expect not to hear anything about it again starting tomorrow."

[vroomvroomlife]

I am not too sure who needs to hear about this but with the recent release of the F1 Movie Teaser in the ball game ads night I want to say something that some of you might be too young to know.

THE F1 MOVIE IS JUST A REMAKE (but even worse) OF DRIVEN (2001).

There I say it. If you have watched Driven, you know what I am talking about and probably agree with me. For those of you who are too young or too same to have watched that mess, allow me to illustrate.

When Sylvester Stallone was filming Judge Dredd around 1994, he discovered Formula 1 and basically fell in love, he attended the 1997 Italian Grand Prix and proudly announced that he would make an F1 movie.

Here he is with my beloved Michael. And with the obnoxious gremlin Bernie.

And all was cool and fine until something wasn't. Instead of being about F1, it became about CART (a bastard sibling of Indy whose origins are a too convoluted for this post and the entire thing folded in 2003 anyway). I cannot find exactly why F1 and the teams backed from the movie, but considering the end result, most bets lay on the script.

Even with the CART setting, F1 elements are still observable on the end result though.

Why is Burt Reynolds' character, the team principal, in a wheelchair. Can of remind you someone?

But anyway, back to my initial point.

The whole plot of Driven can be described as: Veteran driver who is past his prime years comes back to the sport to help a young gifted rookie to become a champion. There will be teammate tension, physically impossible crashes, things that definitely Don't work like that (TM) and real-life drivers peppered in the background, such as Mario Andretti, Jacques Villeneuve, Juan Pablo Montoya, Adrian Fernandez, etc, etc.

DOES THAT REMIND YOU OF SOMETHING?!

In general, is a very bad movie, motivations are questionable, characters are illogical, and if I explained every absurd thing that happens I could write a full book.

HOWEVER, Driven might be better than F1 The movie. At least it had real actors playing the characters. They even had German actor Til Schweiger playing a Schumacher pastiche that functions as a rival in racing and love to our plucky rookie.

@nest-of-shiny-things already explained this in far more detail, but it's kind of hard to have a good movie when your actors cannot interact with the world, even if the world is dumb.

[thirstkanaphan]

Thirst Gets Lore-Pilled (Part 1/?)

Becoming a Lore-Tiny: Notes and Observations

I decided to lock in and immerse myself in Ateez lore! Thank you to @loving-that-officey-feel for being my guide and curator (their quotes are in italics). With their permission, I'm posting our interactions as I go through the different eras.

Treasure Era

It's kind of amazing how cinematic and assured their concept is from the get-go. I don't often give Pirate King its due credit, but it's such a bold and striking debut.

Everyone was playing that song (including me) because, like, at the time I really really didn't follow kpop news so I rarely heard about groups about to debut before they actually did, but I did actually hear the hype about ATEEZ. And when Pirate King dropped we all lost our goddamn minds with the 'holy shit, these are not rookies, how is this a debut track????'

So from what I understand (Hongjoong explained it to me) Treasure takes place chronologically after Fever. In terms of their storyline, they've already made it to the other world.

Yeah, Treasure's definitely for sure after Fever (just when exactly is kind of up for debate). They hooked us on black pirate drama and then they were like 'flashback/backstory time for a whole series' :D'

Treasure Ep. 2 is one of their strongest albums.

Hala Hala really is a staggering song/performance

 So, Hala Hala is our introduction to Halateez. These are not our boys.

Who are these mysterious dudes in black that have our faces, and what do they want????

Okay, Wooyoung taking his mask off at the end of Hala Hala feels important.

Treasure Part 3: the boys have no interest in being woken up from their dream. They are fully immersed in the "Illusion." The tick-tock sound in Crescent is so ominous!

Yeah, that ticking clock really starts to get more ominous the more clock show up in Golden Hour... that's all I'm saying there

Treasure Ep. 3 is also an all-time summer album.

Illusion deserves better from me.

Treasure 3 is the anime equivalent of a beach episode before things get really dark.

OPEN YOUR EYES (Maddox!!)

anime beach episode on the surface... potential grimmdark reality (depending on what they are actually trying to wake up from.....)

They are so beautiful in Wave. Like, the platonic ideal of beautiful youth. Whoever styled Seonghwa for this album deserves a medal.

Holy crap, the Wave - Overture!! I've never seen this performance before. San is blowing up the screen.

All of them asleep during Utopia (Japanese Ver.) ... hmm

they do be needing some waking up... wonder what put them to sleep <cough>sopro<cough>

Wooyoung tangled up in chains...

I wonder what he did to cause that to happen as he's bathed in a ton of red light....

Woah, the All to Action preview is so eerie!!

Right? this is why you should never skip the teasers! They can set a whole different tone from the song they actually use in the mv, and a lot of the time the different tone is EERIE MENACE FOREBODING

End of Beginning goes so hard!

The comeback stage for Wonderland is SO CREEPY! All the naked mannequins...

Symphony No.9...an all-timer stage. So are we watching the full maturity of the pirates?

The more important lore bits from symphony no 9 are that ATEEZ are on a mission given to them by Halateez, (on Halateez's ship) after Halateez gave them the cromer. It's kind of like Illusion in that we are living our Best, Most Epic, Badass pirate life (that may be a dream within a dream within a dream...)

The silence at the end is so haunting. I know this happened during COVID so there's no live audience, but the silence also feels part of the performance.

Asnwer always felt like the Hero's Feast before the final battle.

Answer, my beloved (I am pretty damn sure) turning point for the entire lore.

Ooh, Maddox's evil laughter in the trailer...

Maddox really brings his Best Level Menace factor to the intros/outros (and being Z... if you weren't aware he's the guy who literally wears the Z outfit in any MV where Z appears)

Horizon and Precious have such menacing energy. I get why people love them, but they feel like corrupted files (perhaps by design).

THE VCR FOR THE ANSWER COMEBACK STAGE IS BONKERS!!

The stage for Ode To Joy! THIS IS MUSICAL THEATER GREATNESS!

I just recognized the classical vocalist in this performance and it's the bus driver from the Drunkteez episode who sings Phantom of the Opera 😂

Evergreen statement: Ateez are the best performers of their generation.

End of Treasure: What a ride! Right? what a hell of a way to end the Treasure series with like a billion questions and no answers (lolllllllllll) and then Fever can finally start doing some worldbuilding.

More lore tomorrow!

[redfacedpalindrome]

barcelona gp recap:

i actually don’t even know if i can do this. i have so many thoughts about this race i have no ability to categorize them so…long post alert.

in no particular order:

charles leclerc being a racing icon taking a gamble in quali that paid off perfectly during the race. he planned his own strategy, executed it, took control of his own destiny - it was fucking perfection. couple of things though: for once he got lucky with the safety car. it’s what enabled the podium lunge — otherwise, the sf-25 was STRUGGLING on pace during the last 10 or so laps of the race. gr was gaining steadily, and we may have ended up P5. this is not an indictment of charles’s strategy - it’s an indictment of this terrible fucking car that makes me nauseous every time i watch his onboards

NICO HULKENBERG P5 KING. literally no notes, it was an incredible race for sauber and nico especially really showed his skills. up ~10 places by the end of the race.

lewis…i don’t even know how to feel about lewis’s race other than sad. he had a rough start, and it’s not even like he drove a bad race per se. i still have to go back and watch his onboards but he was so dejected in the aftermath of the race that i really seriously feel for him.

gax drama went insane during this race. okay first of all pitting max during the safety car just for the sake of pitting him and putting him on HARDS??? red bull disasterclass for sure. i understand max’s frustration with that, especially given how the hards were so rough during the free practices. he did his best on those hards…and he probably could have ended P5 if it weren’t for the stuff with russell george. initially from the angle i thought george had banged into max pretty egregiously but it turned out max was the one who initially moved like he was giving the position back to george and ended up making pretty significant contact. there wasn’t much damage done (except that my king got out of danger and into p3 go charles). and this brought the simmering gax tension back to new heights with max getting lambasted by sky sports and george pulling out the disappointed mom card. all i can say is…i support all my drivers in their rights and their wrongs, and more than one is at play here

uh somehow when people weren’t looking ferrari became-for now-P2 in the constructor’s (our car is SLOWER THAN A FUCKING SAUBER)

let’s go back to that: i just wanna hammer home for the tifosi that we basically got overtaken by mattia binotto in a dump truck today (nico is an extremely gifted and wonderful driver who deserves the world this is not targeted at him he outdrove the car by a lot today)

kimi my baby :(

alex albon my sweetheart :(

lance stroll driving since jeddah in pain from his injury is so crazy. defending lance forever he does not deserve getting constantly doxxed like this he’s a good guy. hope i get to see him drive at montreal.

nico rosberg commentator of every race forever pls (put him on f1tv pls)

oh mclaren. god the td didn’t nerf anyone (except for maybe ferrari who sucked special today)

BUT SHOUTOUT TO MY GOAT OSCAR PIASTRI his post safety car restart was actually a masterclass - he drove a perfect weekend pretty much start to finish super proud of him and he dedicated his champagne signing to his sister edie :)))

i lowkey was not clocking lando much during this race i know he made up some time to try to make a play for p1 and it ultimately didn’t work out idk i feel like mclaren just lets the quali order decide their team orders which means the wdc this year is just gonna be a quali shootout lol

alonso points! yay.

isack hadjar stays quietly impressive i knew i loved you for a reason beloved rookie

[factorygirlsstuff]

Currently watching: Love Scout, When the Stars Gossip & Motel California

I started watching kdramas in May 2023 (updated 4/17/24)

My personal top 10:

It’s Okay to not be Okay (top fav) ★ ★ ★ ★ ★

A road to emotional healing opens up for an antisocial children's book author and an employee in a psychiatric hospital. (amazing chemistry & found family)

Crash Landing on You ★ ★ ★ ★ ★

A paragliding mishap drops a South Korean heiress in North Korea - and into the life of an army officer, who decides he will help her hide. (lots of crying but worth it)

Hometown Cha Cha Cha ★ ★ ★ ★ ★

At a crossroads, a dentist moves to a seaside village where she meets a handyman intent on helping his neighbours. (my most rewatched)

Her Private Life ★ ★ ★ ★ ★

Dedicated art gallery curator Sung Deok Mi is a fanatic fan girl of White Ocean's Cha Shi-an, a dark secret she hides from everyone. (really supportive relationship, weird last couple of eps)

Business Proposal ★ ★ ★ ★ ★

In disguise as her friend, Ha-ri shows up on a blind date to scare away her friend's prospective suitor. However, plans go awry when he turns out to be Ha-ri's CEO and he makes a proposal. (my first kdrama! Super cute & funny)

Touch Your Heart ★ ★ ★ ★ ★

A famous actress, gets caught in a scandal with a son of a rich family; with her career declining quickly, she looks for one last hope to get back on the screen. She lands a role playing a secretary in a drama & then becomes a real secretary in order to play the part. (Healthy relationship, office romance)

Welcome to Samdalri ★ ★ ★ ★ ★

After suffering a fall from grace, a photographer returns to her hometown and bumps into her childhood friend, rekindling an unfinished romance. (childhood friends to lovers & slice of life/healing)

Happiness ★ ★ ★ ★ ★

The residents of a high-rise apartment fight for their lives against a deadly infectious disease while Sae-bom and Yi-hyun try to find the person because of whom the virus spread. (I think I really love friends to lovers)

Something in the Rain ★ ★ ★ ★ ★

When a single career woman reunites with her best friend's younger brother after he returns from three years of working abroad, their efforts to reconnect grow into romance. (they just felt so real to me, the romance was 🤌🏼, worst mom)

Cheer Up ★ ★ ★ ★ ★

A working-class girl joins her college's down-and-out cheerleading team, where she finds friendship, love, and an old-school campus mystery. (idk they felt real too, worst SML though)

Other kdramas I finished:

Healer ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ (binged in 2 days)

What’s Wrong With Secretary Kim ★ ★ ★ ★ ☆ (love PMY)

Love to Hate You ★ ★ ★ ★ ☆ (Maybe I binged it too fast, but I don’t remember it lol)

Our Beloved Summer ★ ★ ★ ☆ ☆ (too slow for me & I usually don’t mind slow)

True To Love ★ ★ ★ ★ ☆ (main leads romance was everything)

Forecasting Love & Weather ★ ★ ★ ★ ☆ (something was off/missing)

Vincenzo ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ (🫰🏼)

When the Weather is Fine ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ (kinda slow but I binged it fast lol)

Squid Game ★ ★ ★ ★ ★

All of Us are Dead ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ (I like zombie shows)

Alchemy of Souls ★ ★ ★ ★ ☆

Alchemy of Souls: Light & Shadow ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ (the romance 🫰🏼)

Suspicious Partner ★ ★ ★ ★ ☆ (dragged in the middle but loved this couple)

Save Me ★ ★ ★ ★ ☆ (so good, just hard subject matter)

Shooting Stars ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ (loved the main couple so much & so many other cute couples!)

Doona! ★ ★ ★ ★ ☆ (omg her visual, binged so fast)

Itaewon Class ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ (binged so fast)

Descendants of the Sun ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ (binged in 2 days)

Castaway Diva ★ ★ ★ ★ ☆ (first kdrama to watch while airing)

The Matchmakers ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ (first sageuk, thought they were adorable)

Crazy Love ★ ★ ★ ★ ☆ (it was good, but didn’t do it for me 🤷🏻‍♀️)

Moving ★ ★ ★ ★ ☆ (I didn’t like all the flashbacks, but it was good overall)

Backstreet Rookie ★ ★ ★ ★ ☆ (for some reason I loved this couple so much, problematic SML & annoying SFL)

School 2017 ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ (just perfect)

Dalie and the Cocky Prince ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ (the pet names 🥰)

Soundtrack #1 ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ (another friends to lovers)

Behind Your Touch ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ (idk why but I loved it, it was so funny to me lol)

Thirty But Seventeen ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ (great romance & cutest found family)

Kiss Sixth Sense ★ ★ ★ ★ ☆ (really liked it, last 20 minutes idk 🤷🏻‍♀️)

I Am Not A Robot ★ ★ ★ ★ ☆ (loved this, dragged a little in the middle)

My Man is Cupid ★ ★ ★ ★ ☆ (SML annoyed me, the cutest ending 🥰)

Gyensong Creature ★ ★ ★ ★ ☆ (I liked it, but it didn’t end I guess. So I’m waiting for season 2)

Cafe Minamdang ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ (loved it so much! It made me laugh & loved the FL!)

My Man is Cupid ★ ★ ★ ★ ☆ (it was cute)

Marry My Husband ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ (it was a lot of fun & loved watching it weekly with everyone)

My Holo Love ★ ★ ★ ☆ ☆ (it was fine, only 12 eps so it was quick & slow burn romance.)

Queen of Divorce ★ ★ ★ ☆ ☆ (it started off really interesting, but some things were never explained & I wanted more romance between the leads)

Doom at Your Service ★ ★ ★ ★ ☆ (I really liked it, the romance was SO good, but I was a little confused about how the contract worked.)

Doctor Slump ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ (loved it SO much! Everything was so cute & loved the romance)

Flex x Cop ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ (really loved it, gave me Castle vibes. #1 drama I was looking forward to every week. No romance, although we are getting a 2nd season so fingers crossed.)

Chicken Nugget ★ ★ ★ ☆ ☆ (it was definitely weird, but I laughed a lot)

Wedding Impossible ★ ★ ★ ★ ☆ (really liked it, cute romcom)

Fight For My Way ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ (loved it so much, binged it in a day! I could not stop watching, friends to lovers really is the best.)

Rookie Cops ★ ★ ★ ☆ ☆ (really liked it at first, put on hold for a month, then the last few episodes were good again.)

Parasyte: The Grey ★ ★ ★ ★ ☆ (it was really good)

Mad for Each Other ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ (so good! Loved everything about it, especially the couple)

Dropped: (I might try again 🤷🏻‍♀️)

Run On

Goblin

Hotel De Luna

Weight Lifting Fairy, Kim Bok-joo

King the Land

My Demon

True Beauty

The K2

Destined With You

The Story of Park’s Marriage Contract

Perfect Marriage Revenge

Moon in the Day

A Good Day to be a Dog

Open to recommendations!

[lagerloutfic]

a tough as balls year for little old me, but as the old proverb goes, no matter the horrors there is always ao3 in bed. writing and reading.

doubled down on my love for hockey and feel like i understood the game better, imbued more of the narratives, and discovered more players to be stupid about.

stopped trying to fight being an f1 girlie and threw myself in head first. what a gorge little community of freaks (affectionate) who like to watch the zoom zoom.

here are some things i wrote. not sure if i love them all, but they were all glorious distractions and so i'm hopelessly fond. not a single word could have happened without @crunchycrispy, the eternal muse.

hockey stuff

🐶 got that dog in him | E | 7.1k | the connor mcdog fic haha...oh boy. the good news is i am not alone in thinking how much connor looks like bowie and the bad news is, we're all going to hell. despite living in fear someone is going to cancel me for bestiality, i loved writing connor/bowie pov and imagining my life as a pampered little pooch, beloved by all. on my wishlist for 2025, tbh.

💦 warm ride | E | 2.3k & wrap me round your wedding ring | E | 6.8k | William Nylander/John Tavares | eurosleaze 4 DILF captain shame writing willy is a true joy, thoroughly recommend everyone have a turn. this was darker that i usually go because i don't like to hurt my own feelings but i'm happy with how wet and pathetic JT turned out and the whole structure of part 2. 😈 love drunk off this hump | E | 8k | Frederik Andersen/Auston Matthews | the gang's all here and they are fucking idiots this might have been the most fun thing i wrote this year? just good vibes, silly times, a thrilling ensemble of dickheads being stupid hockey bros. everyone should jerk off with the homies, the thesis.

🥛 no use crying | E | 38.6K | Brock Boeser/William Nylander | milk bar fic sex-worker AU ummmm, look. i just wanted to write boys with big milk jugs. do these fellas know each other? no. does the world make sense? nah. did i have a fun time, YES.

🦷 different kind of buzz | E | 3.5k | Macklin Celebrini/Will Smith | | pain, teeth & horny 4 hockey | those fucking rookies, goddamn actually can't believe we are witnessing the birth of a new pairing right under our noses, but it's happening. we are living in the historical moment! thank you to all the sickos who are writing willmack, posting the content, thinking the thoughts. the real MVP of this season, along with @fast-burn for making it spesh.

🏒 let's call this the playoff hockey coping strategy collection 🏒

absolutely bonkers time where i dealt with playoff hockey through fanfiction. actually do not remember half of these, so that's cool.

say it, say it again | E | 4.1k | Leon Draisaitl/Connor McDavid | soft dick fic.

but close ain't close enough | E | 6.3k | Leon Draisaitl/Connor McDavid | get your captain pregnant with help from your girl

go ahead and try a little crazy on me | E | 4k & don't you even try and explain | e | 12.1k | Leon Draisaitl/Arturs Silovs | winner's room goalie fucking | whomst among us was not enchanted by arty during that series? probably the most enjoyable voice to write, i do really want to write a part three where everyone gets freaky in spain so someone bully me until i do it.

better put that business to bed | E | 2.8k | Leon Draisaitl/Connor McDavid | voice kink

just the touch of your hand | E | 3.4k | Leon Draisaitl/Connor McDavid | McDepression and spanking

if i could make a wish | E | 2.8k | Leon Draisaitl/Connor McDavid | omg, MORE McDrepression?? Get a new theme, girl!

i'm gonna tell you right now, they're all i'm thinkin' about | E | 7k | Leon Draisaitl/Connor McDavid | you are never gonna believe there's a THIRD McDepression fic out there by moi. This time with a cute outfit!

🏎️ f1 stuff 🏎️

👀 unsafe release | E | 18.2k | Alex Albon/George Russell | when that childhood friend becomes hot and weird and scary it's your girls first f1 fic! started life as a quinn/petey fic lol okay who is she? this was HARD to write. new fandoms are tricky, there's so much to learn. but good to be sobbing into the google doc at a million am, it builds character etc etc

🌪️ a lasting advantage | E | 18.7k | Alex Albon/George Russell | okay but actually i wasn't done with these bitches more of the same, but with extra mental breakdowns and lashings of shame! buttsex, finally, and a beloved OC.

💬 hot rookie slagsss | M | 5.7k | Alex Albon/George Russell/Lando Norris | horndogs in the groupchat i just wanted to write something with dialogue so i didn't have to bother with all the bits in between and text is so fun for that. so fun to thrash this out with @latecomersprivilege and @ctimenefic. it takes a village, y'all.

flippin' hell. when it's all laid out like that it's really something. what's next? i literally have no idea! how fun! thanks to anyone who interacted with me this year, the likes and comments and stupidity keep the motor running. open mouthed kisses for all xx

[sunlit6279]

what kind of music do you think the arcane characters would listen to? asking because you seem like a chill dude

First off, anon what’s your opinion on marriage? Hey, anon, what’s your ring size? Secondly 😃 and for reals this time, this is a brilliant ask, I’ll happily take up on your request

But just fyi, I’m BIG into popculture. AND gen z (don’t throw tomatoes at me omg) so maybe you can imagine what kind of music I listen to 😭 but I also like to think that my playlist can be quite diverse. But idk we might still have a very different music taste soooo eh. Yeah idk just wanted to put a ⚠️disclaimer⚠️ here I guess so that y’all don’t come and bash me because it’s literally music and I just saw an opportunity to yap so I’m doing this 😭🎀 Simply put, this is for funsiesss hope you get a laugh?

⚠️a few more disclaimers; not proofread, I was a bit too invested in this (and crazy), I took the modern AU approach!⚠️ So anyways all of this to finally say; I’m starting with our favorite hot-headed lesbian,

Vi

YOU KNOW she’s screaming from the top of her lungs singing this! Oh and imagine this! rookie Rockstar!Vi covering this song in front of an audience, probably during a school festival or something and the crowd goes crazy. Her beloved girlfriend Caitlin is in the crowd. But do you know who else in the crowd? Right next to Caitlin? Maddie. Violet knows what has been going on during their break, and this is a message directed to her. Maddie was trying hard to seduce Caitlin to get her for herself. But she notices quickly all of this was in vain when her “date” next to her is headbanging and genuinely smiling ear to ear for the first time in her presence. When the song ends, Vi spits cocky: “Get your ass out here. Caitlin’s mine.” Her band roars proudly in response 😎

AND YOU KNOW that Vi switched to she/her pronouns to make Caitlin know that she meant her and only her.

OR, YOU KNOW that Vi and Caitlin went to Paramore’s concert when they performed this song for the last time ever and they were having a blast and making out to this song for sure! ☺️ Vi was fired up and Caitlin loved every second of it.

Viktor

The slowed version because that’s just the typa person Vik is 🙂‍↕️ (pls ignore the image used for the song lmfao) But either way. Hear me out, okay? This was a suggestion from Jayce (so no I’m not at fault here! 🙂‍↔️). And yes, Viktor’s response was just as anyone expected: He raised his brow when he looked back at his lab partner. “You’re kidding?”

Panicky, Jayce flapped his hands to ease Viktor’s annoyance. “I hear this song everywhere and it always makes me think of you…! It’s not what I usually listen to but it gets into your brain before you know it. I genuinely thought you’d like it just a little bit. I mean… won’t you give it a listen?”

“Yeah, wrong guy, Jayce.” Jayce nodded quickly and accepted his fate. “Yeah, okay, I know this was dumb of me.”

Viktor didn’t add a word and continued his research back in his corner. Jayce grimaced, cursing at himself. “I-I’ll leave you to it, then. Text me when you’re home.”

The moment Viktor heard the door shut behind him, he sighed. He tucked his hair strings behind his ear and got back to work.

Much later, he noticed his tension grew bigger. He wasn’t being on task at all. Jayce was right. The short snippet he showed Viktor was already stuck in his head. He tried hard not to succumb to the temptation, trying to prove the air in the room that he wasn’t already a little bit hooked. Whether he’d listen to the full song and like it or not.

He looked at the time and smacked his lips. Jayce might be worried at this exact moment but Viktor felt like he couldn’t leave just now. He “barely made any progress”, he thought. He took a big breath and ran his hands over his hair. “I need a break.” He leaned over the counter to feel more relaxed and grabbed his phone in his pockets to surf the internet. But he had to take a double take when he realized he was in fact on his music app and not on social media. Already tapping the search bar. Viktor furrowed his eyebrows, aggravated by himself.

“Tsk.” He typed the lyrics he understood reluctantly, hoping that was enough for the engine to recognize what he meant. Luckily, it did. He let the song play in the background while he finally did what he intended to do with his phone: Surf the internet. When he was done with his break, he let it play on a loop “unknowingly”. He told himself he was too busy to risk and touch his phone now. That would interrupt his flow, he said.

Needless to say, it didn’t take long until he was swaying his body and snapping his fingers to the beat contently while he continued his research.

(and you KNOWWWWW he’s feeling cvnty the more he listens to the song, Jayce absolutely loves seeing that side of Vik, too!) (Jayce asked him once, “oh so what does it mean?” Vik responded with, “you wouldn’t understand”)

Mel

My woman. Oh how much I love her. Come on, we’ve been knowing she’d listen to lots of Beyoncé. She mostly listens to this when she’s already on a high and it’s physically impossible to hold her back. Usually it’s Elora next to her, sitting on the couch inside the karaoke room, holding her own microphone tight to her chest, absolutely fascinated by the performance she’s witnessing. Elora knows that her best friend can be a bit of a dork sometimes, but it amazes her every time anyways when it happens. But she doesn’t stay starstruck for too long, when Mel pulls her in to join her performance. They both rap Jay-Z’s part together, afterwards exchanging verses, Elora filling on the adlibs, the high notes, while Mel is grinding on her to make them both feel something. Hairs are being swung, physical space is non-existent and laughter filling the room 🥹❤️❤️ ugh I LOVE girls being silly together!!!! (I genuinely love what they have here!!! I love gays girls!!!! I love happy Mel!!!!!)

(oh and imagine Mel in a white y2k outfit that gives BEYONCÉ and her loose hair is POPPING. see how much she’s glowing?)

Ekko

YOU KNOWWWWW Ekko’s a huge fan of Kendrick since FOREVER (and is gobbling up his new album yupyup 🙂‍↕️) and went absolutely feral this summer when this song dropped and cheered when he knew he was on the winner’s side. Ekko is a complete music nerd and will tell you every reference and metaphor of this song alone. Powder asked him ONCE (1) about the rap battle between Kenny and Drake and got info dumped within 0.000000001s :))) She loved it. Hearing him sing makes her want to move her body with him. She knows Ekko isn’t really the type to sing in front of people so when he gets all hyped up and shows this side of him she feels special.

There’s a chance they did a TikTok together too… 🌝 but it might be in the drafts oops

(by now, he fully memorized the whole song 🙂🙂)

Claggor

Yup. Him. The man. I know it’s random but I can’t get him out of my head,, So this is more like a self-indulgent bonus. You’re welcome! xx

BUT IMAGINE! He was sent to make the dishes and he was soooooo not feeling it at first until he bit through it and listened to music to make him feel a bit more motivated. When this started to play he was LOCKED. IN. He did the whole “imagining he’s in an edit” kinda thing, jumping in place, flexing his muscle at literally no one at all, singing some verses aloud because he was so into it. Which he rarely does. Claggor is not a singer. Maybe a shower singer but everyone at home quickly shrugs it off, because honestly, who hasn’t done it before? But imagine his surprise when he sensed someone next to him, slowly handing him a plate.

“Uh—”

Vander pulled a face. “Wanna talk about it?”

Claggor simply shook his head awkwardly.

Ugh 😩 you guys I love him so much??? I hate men but I would let him in my bed (/hj)

no but in all seriousness, I can’t really tell why I chose this song but it just felt right? I imagine Claggor to be this cool, chill guy and genuinely funny to be around

and this song (among many others ofc) just oozes that vibe