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#Right Angle Studio
sunnfish · 6 months
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[ID: A digital illustration of Hanzawa Masato from Sasaki to Miyano. He is shown from a behind angle from the shoulders up, head hanging down wearily. The back of his neck and his cheeks and ear are angry shades of red and orange, as if badly sunburnt. His eye, barely visible from underneath his bangs, is an image of a photorealistic eye; it looks back towards the viewer. The background is a solid neon cyan. The artist's signature "sunnfish" is written in the corner. /End ID]
sunburn
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diorsbrando · 2 months
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lawd hammercy says in dr. umar’s voice.
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daisywords · 1 year
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people who use procreate how on earth do you draw straight lines????
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shencomix · 6 months
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Just curious! What brush do you use for lining your comics?
IT'S THE MOTHERFUCKING
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CIRCLE, BABY!!!!
THAT'S RIGHT
NO GIMMICKS
NO ANGLES
ALL CURVES
ANTIALIASING??
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MORE LIKE ANTI-ALI-MY ASS-ING, GET THAT SHIT OUDDAHERE
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125 PX ON A 4000 PX CANVAS, THAT'S RIGHT, WE GO BIG HERE AND WE GO HOME AND THEN AT HOME WE GO EVEN BIGGER
I GOT CLIP STUDIO AND THEN SET IT UP LIKE MS PAINT JUST TO FLEX ON ADOBE AND MICROSOFT, WHO ARE CRYING IN THE CORNER AND PISSING THEMSELVES, BEGGING ME, "PLEASE LEARN WHAT A LAYER IS"
BUT I CAN'T HEAR THEM
MY ART IS TOO LOUD
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harrie-cc · 4 months
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The Klean Collection - Part 4
This month I focused on creating the Klean Home Office. I focused my attention on what a designer's home office would look like/contain. I have wanted to make shelving like this for quite some time & was excited to try out Sims 4 Studio to angle the slots, unfortunately many painful hours later after trying to troubleshoot why exactly the rotation didn't work in game, I managed to come up with a workaround, so that you can still snap flat books and deco items onto the slanted shelves at the correct angle. For some peculiar reason the rotated slots would not work unless I locked their orientation. As a result once an item snap into one of these slots it will stay at the 45 degree angle even when you snap it to a regular slot. If I did this for all the slots to work it would end up being very difficult for you to effectively clutter all the other shelves as all your items would snap to these angled slots instead. So I've created only 3 of these slots on each shelf to help you to orientate your deco items to the correct angle. They are located in the middle and either end of the the shelf, so you should be able to avoid them while decorating the regular slots on the other shelves. I think this issue is down to EA changing the slotting information in the game as it a very simple process to rotate these slots and both programmes I used to do so ended with the same result. Fingers crossed this is changed in the future so I don't have to irritate myself and you all with such a workaround and they just work how they are supposed to! 
Items Include:
Bookshelf configurations 1 to 5 (short & medium)
1 tile bookshelf configuration (short & medium)
Left ending bookshelf configuration (short & medium)
Right ending bookshelf configuration (short & medium)
Bookshelf post (short. medium & tall)
Desk chair
Glass desk
Statement desk/ conference table/ dining table
Design portfolio
Open design portfolio
Pantone swatch books (3 options)
RAL swatch books (2 options)
Fabric sample book
All items are Base Game compatible and you can find them by searching KLEAN in the build/buy catalogue.
As per usual textures are linked between similar items, so if you download the unmerged file, make sure to include all items from that family, so the textures appear correctly in your game.
Now Available on Patreon Early Access
Public Release: 7th April 2024
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ghosts-cyphera · 8 months
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♡ 18+ / mdni - fem!reader ♡
thinking about pornstar!Ghost and how he would—without a doubt—be one of those male actors who’d be whispering the nastiest, most goddamn earth shattering things into your ear while fucking you.
too quiet for the mics around you to pick up: making it so personal, so intimate despite the crew and cameras and studio lights around you.
his fingers closing around your throat, guiding you to look him in the eyes as he fucks you faster and deeper: his crotch grinding against your clit, making you see stars. forehead pressed against yours, fingers digging into the flesh of your thighs, nails digging crescent moons into your skin.
“look at me, darlin’. keep ‘em eyes on me, yeah? wanna hear you fuckin’ scream for me, baby. not for them—,” he shakes his head with his laugh. “no, you’ll come for me, yeah? you’re mine, aren’t you? all fuckin’ mine, baby—“
his words would push you straight over the edge: your body trembling as you'd come screaming your pretty voice hoarse, and his lips would capture your in a kiss, deep and adoring.
all genuine, from both of you.
“that’s a good fuckin’ girl. did so good for me.” he would plant kisses on your hairline as he’d help you ride down your orgasm, angling you just right for the camera to catch the way you were clenching around him, your pussy milking his cock and drawing the deepest of laughs from his lips.
“y’know you’re makin’ it so fuckin’ hard for me to hold back, right?“
he’d tug a strand of hair behind your ear as you’d laugh against his lips—trying your best to remember that you are on set. because fucking hell, does he fuck you like means it. kiss you like it’s the only thing he knows: eyes twinkling as he looks at you, voice warm as he checks if you’re alright.
like none of it is for the cameras, or the money.
like it's all for you.
it is. it is. it’s now canon that pornstar!ghost is utterly in love with you, and I will gladly talk more about this lmao 💌
more wholesome pornstar!ghost here, hehe.
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lollixp0p · 4 months
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The Video (18+)
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Pairing: Best friend!Hwang Hyunjin x afab!reader
Genre: Smut (MDNI), bit of feelings
Word count: just under 3k!
Warnings: Idol!au, subby!Hyunjin, slightly perv!reader, recording, (maybe a bit dub con because he doesn't mean to send it but reader watches it anyway), mommy kink, masturbation (both but separately), Hyunjin fantasizes about reader, reader fantasizes about Hyunjin, lmk if I missed anything!!
Summary: Hyunjin finally gets some alone time after weeks of hard work and decides to use his time to... relax. The next day he ends up sending you something on accident that sets off a big change in your lives, with or without either of you really realising.
Note: My first ever fic!! :3 Inspired by a video I saw on phub. (@cbini (Ems isn't on Tumblr rn she still wanted to be tagged so I hope it's ok), @comet-falls, @hyunsvngs, @mnwrld and @skz-hell lmao hello everyone, writing blog reveal!!😁 here's this fic I've mention to all of you as an anon<3 (depending on who you are I'm either ❄️anon, 🐾anon or sounding anon😳)). To anyone reading this please give me literally any feedback (comment, reblog, anything!), I want to know if this is good or not since it's my first fic🙏😣
Please do not under any circumstance copy, translate, or repost my works!
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It's been exactly three weeks since Hyunjin's had any time for just himself, though it feels like months at this point.
Recently everyone's been running around like headless chickens and between vocal trainings, dance practices and the studio, there hasn't been much time to just relax and recharge. Preparing for a new album really is the busiest time of an idols life.
There hasn't even been time to see family or friends, which is common during busy spells like this, but always dissapointing to think about. Now even more so, with how much he's been wishing to spend time with you, one of his closest friends... who also happens to be his crush. Not that he'd ever let you know though, not in a very long time.
It feels almost like a blessing, getting back to the dorms from practice late in the evening and realising... he's got the place all for himself, at least until his roommates get back from the studio.
Changbin had messaged him earlier, telling him that they'd probably be there well past midnight, so there was no use waiting up for them. To him though, this was the very opposite of an issue. With that much free time, he'd definitely be able to... make himself comfortable, so to speak.
See, not having time to relax also means he'd basically had no time to get off. The best he'd been able to do had been quick little sessions barely once a week in the shower right before passing out on his bed from the exhaustion of working hard.
The realisation that he'd be able to do anything he wants during his time alone is enough to get his dick twitching in his jeans and he decides the shower can wait until later.
Hyunjin goes to his room and locks the door after himself even though he's alone, it's just become a habit after so many years living with his members. He sets his bag down next to his bed and thinks through his plan.
Hyunjin has a little secret, which is that he loves recording himself do dirty things that range from more vanilla to much less vanilla. Something about the thrill of being recorded even if no one will ever see it just... makes him so fucking horny.
He opens the camera of his phone, puts it to video mode and presses record. Moving his hand off the lense and setting it down where he normally sets it, on the carefully placed pile of books on his desk, he sits down on his bed.
"Hmm... I hope the angle's good... It's been so long since I've had time for this", Hyunjin sighs with a pout and brushes his hair out of his eyes. He knows the camera won't see it though because he's made sure the stand, his pile of books, is at a level that cuts off his head perfectly.
Hyunjins hands run down his body slowly and he exhales deeply, just loud enough to get picked up by his phone. Once they reach his jeans he unbuttons them, unzips the zipper, then pulls the jeans down just enough to expose his underwear. Hyunjin pulls his shirt up over his stomach to be held in place under his chin, rubs his hand over his bulge and hums.
It's been so long since the last time he's been able to take his time making himself feel good. It's almost embarrassing how quickly he's getting hard.
He takes his dick out his boxers and then spits on the palm of his right hand. It's dirty and wet but it just turns him on even more. He grabs his dick with the hand and slowly moves his fist up and down, to spread the saliva and precum all over his dick to make the slide easier and wetter but to also get himself to full hardness.
"A-ah, ohh... that's so good... Feels-fuck, feels so good", Hyunjin sighs. It really won't take him too long to cum, he just knows it. He's been pent up for far too long.
He tries to think of something to help his issue and immediately thinks of you, no matter how embarrassed or dirty it makes him feel.
When you first started showing up in the dirtiest corners of his mind he felt so ashamed. Now it doesn't matter to him anymore. You'll never find out so why feel bad?
He continues to move his hand on his dick while thinking of you. The last time the two of you had time to hang out together you'd worn the lowest cut shirt he'd ever seen on you. He had tried so hard to act normal around you but whenever you bent down he'd been able to see into your shirt.
"Haah, fuck..." , he squeezes himself a little harder at the memory. Everytime you moved he could see your bra poking out from the top, black and lacy. The entire time he'd been doing his best to not bust in his pants. Oh, what he'd give to be able to see your tits. They always looked so soft and they'd probably fit perfectly into his palms.
Whenever the both of you would hang out at yours, watching movies and just hanging out, you never bothered to wear a bra. Why would you? It is your house where you want to be as comfortable as possible.
The feeling of laying down on your couch watching a movie with you on top of him, in just a t-shirt, will end up driving him mad one day. Everytime he'd felt your nipples poking into him he'd almost moaned out loud.
"Hngh... Oh my god, please... m-mommy!", he lets out pathetically, moving his fist faster. God he just wants you to use him, to do anything you want to him. The thought makes him whine desperately.
One of the most common fantasies for him is you on top of him using him to get off, not caring about if he's close or not. You'd sit on his face and ride it until you cum. He could probably cum untouched like that. All he'd need was tasting you and seeing you cum, just for him.
All the sudden he remembers the phone recording him and he shudders. He imagines what your reaction would be to seeing him like this. Would you be disgusted or delighted? Would you tell him what to do and how to touch himself? Maybe you'd touch him... He hopes you would.
"Mommy... please touch me, aah- oh!", he runs his thumb over the head of his cock just right and his thighs twitch but he keeps them open, in perfect view to the camera.
Throwing his head back he imagines you riding him. You'd be so tight and wet around him. Maybe you'd tie his hands behind his back so he wouldn't be able to touch you... he'd really like that. You'd feel godly around him, Hyunjin thinks.
"Fuck, oh fuck! Mommy I'm-haah, I'm so close, please!", his dick twitches desperately. You're so gorgeous, to him you're the sexiest person he's ever seen. He feels himself getting so close that tears spring to his eyes.
"Ah- 'm gonna... mommy, gonna cum...!", he whines out long and loud. It takes Hyunjin two more strokes to let go and he cums the hardest he's cum in weeks. He doesn't even register whispering your name. Hyunjin leans back on his left hand and keeps stroking himself through it.
The feeling is overwhelming, so much so that his thighs start twitching pathetically and the tears in the corners of his eyes fall. He's getting incredibly overstimulated but he keeps going, wanting to keep enjoying the feeling, just a bit more.
He squeezes himself one last time and suddenly everything on him feels gross and dirty. He's just had the best orgasm in weeks so it's no surprise that he came a lot, everywhere. He even managed to get some on his chin.
"Fuuck... Did you-haah... did you enjoy that?", he chuckles to the phone. It takes a while for him to come down from the high, the twitchiness and the feeling of euphoria lingering in his body. Once he's capable of standing up again he stops the video.
With his body feeling like jelly, he takes off all his clothes, drops them into his hamper and prepares to shower, at last.
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Hyunjin wakes up to his alarm the next day feeling more refreshed than he's felt in weeks. He shuts off the still ringing alarm and quickly gets up from his bed to get dressed and go eat breakfast.
Checking the calendar on his phone to make sure he knows his schedule for today, he makes a note of one thing; he'd have a lot of time alone at the dorms today too, since he's only got a dance practice and a recording session today, which obviously means 3racha will stay behind to stress about their songs while Hyunjin can return early. Maybe this time he should continue the latest piece of art he's been working on after he gets back?
Hyunjin gets through the day well enough.
After eating breakfast he messages you a "Good morning pretty <3 please remember to drink water!" like every morning when he has time for it. He gets to the practice room only five minutes late, which is a record this early in the morning, because usually he ends up sleeping in at least ten minutes (which makes Chan scold him for being such a heavy sleeper).
He does well at practice, even though he ends up a little exhausted. That's nothing new though, with how hard they always work to be the best they can be.
The rest of the members leave to take a break but Hyunjin decides to stay behind to film the solo choreography he's been working on for fun. Once he's happy with how it's turned out, it's time for him to go record his lines.
The recording session goes smoothly, without hundreds of retakes and everyone's satisfied with the result. Afterwards they decide to order some take-out, as a reward for a job well done... and also because they're all feeling too lazy to even think about going to the dorms to cook.
While eating Hyunjin finally realises to check his phone again. "Good morning, take care of yourself too!! :)" is your response to what he sent earlier. It's nothing more than a kind response but it makes him grin to himself like the fool in love he is.
"Yaaah!! Hyunjinnieee, what's making you smile so beautifully?", Changbin leans towards him with his signature flirting-with-Hyunjin grin, mouth half full of rice.
"It's nothing," Hyunjin responds back to him cheeks red, "and don't talk with your mouth full hyung... Do you not have any respect?"
Changbin decides to drop it in favor of eating more delicious food.
"Oh come on... we wanna know!!", Han pouts at him from his seat on the couch in the room. Hyunjin shoves another mouthful of food in his mouth to avoid the embarrassement of explaining how a single text messaged from you manages to make his heart beat out of his chest.
Once Hyunjin's done eating he's free to go back to the dorms and just like he suspected the rest of his dormmates stay behind to work some more, although they all whine at him to stay to explain the previous mystery. He declines and they all keep their sad puppydog eyes on him until he's out the door.
He keeps texting you during his ride, all the way to the dorms. Once he's in his room Hyunjin decides to just change into some clean clothes. He's too excited to talk to you and get to painting, he can wash up later.
He lays in his bed to keep texting you and at some point your conversation changes from how your day's been going to talking about dancing and he mentions how he just today filmed a new choreography bit he's made for fun.
❣️:
Can I see what you've been working on? :)
I'm sure it's really good, you always are!!
Jinnie:
Well... since you asked so nicely😉
[video sent]
Quickly sending the video Hyunjin exits out the messaging app, feeling so giddy he can't help but squirm around on his bed. He still can't believe someone like you could be interested in seeing him dance.
It might seem like a small thing for most but he feels himself turning red just thinking about the way you look at him while he talks about something so important to him. It makes the butterflies in his stomach every time you're near go crazy. It's so attentive, like you actually care and are interested in his interests... and maybe even...?
'No' , he thinks to himself. There's probably no way you could ever actually be interested in him, not in the same way he's interested in you at least.
He leaves his phone charging and finally gets out of bed to go to the kitchen for a cup of coffee. He'd need it if he wanted to stay up late to work on his newest art piece.
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Hearing the familiar 'ping' notification of receiving a message makes you open your phone again and just like you thought, Hyunjin had sent you the video of his latest masterpiece of a choreography. Not waiting a second you press the video just to see.... Hyunjin take his hand off the camera and set the phone down on the desk in his room he draws on. He sits down on the edge of his bed and says something, you aren't really sure what, because the volume's too low. In confusion you turn it up more.
Hyunjin sighs and reaches up to move his hair out his face, probably. You can't see it though, because the camera cuts his face perfectly off frame. Suddenly his hands run down his body to the button on his jeans. He opens it and starts undoing the zipper next. You just look at the video in shock. 'He isn't about to... to take them off is he?', you think to yourself, just as he pulls the jeans down enough to expose his white boxers and then palms his bulge.
Should you stop watching? Keep watching? How long has it even been playing? How long does it keep playing? While you wonder this you almost miss Hyunjin pull his hard dick out of his underwear and spit on his palm and... Oh God...
You've now done something you can never take back. The downright sinful view of his cock is something you don't think you're ever going to be able to forget. How do you even face him after this? After watching him grasp his dick in his hand and pump it a couple of times to spread the spit and precum around.
You exit the video, panting and absolutely soaking through your underwear. Your other hand rushes to your face to feel your cheeks. They're burning and feel like you've been standing out in the sun for hours, when in reality all you've done is accidentally watch your best friend play with himself.
You struggle to decide what to do with the video and in the end save the video without much thinking, then delete the message of it and decide to notify him of his mistake. As long as he doesn't know you saved it, it should be fine, right?
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It takes Hyunjin less than 10 minutes to make and get the coffee. He returns to his room humming the tune of a song he's had on repeat recently. Setting the coffee down on the desk and taking his phone off from the charger he notices new messages from you.
❣️:
Uhm...😕
Hyunjin, I don't think you meant to send that.
He looks at his screen confused. What did you mean by that? He...
Oh God.
Did he send the wrong video?
Frantically opening the video he sent earlier he sees himself, in video, move his hand off the phone camera and set it down the desk near his bed and sit down. Oh no...
"Hmm... I hope the angle's good... It's been so long since I've had time for this", video Hyunjin sighs and reaches up to move his hair from his eyes. His head may be out of frame but he clearly remembers pouting while saying this. He watches himself slowly unbutton and unzip his pants, adjusting them so that his boxers are clearly visible in frame. In the video his hand drifts towards his crotch slowly, teasingly.
He quickly exits the video and promptly shoves his head under his pillow and yells. He'd accidentally sent the wrong video while hurrying to get a cup of coffee. How could he have messed up this bad? In his panic, it takes him a moment to respond.
Jinnie:
Oh god
I'm so sorry!!
Please don't watch that!
❣️:
Don't worry!!!
I stopped watching the moment you started unzipping your pants😖
I saw nothing, promise!🙏 It's been deleted already!! 
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Little does he know though, you'd kept the video. You're not really sure why, but subconciously your brain keeps screaming' to finish it later, of course'.
...
Fuck it, you don't think you can wait until later.
Taking a deep breath, you open your gallery to find the video he sent you. You hesitate for a second but press play anyway. You can feel how you're already soaking through your underwear but pay no mind to it yet.
You watch him do the things you've seen already, all the way until he spits in his hand... and you pause the video. 'Is it right to watch this? I mean, he didn't mean to even send it...', you think to yourself.
But the thought of seeing him touch himself, to hear him make the sweetest noises you could ever in your wildest dreams imagine him making drives you on.
Pressing play again you dip your fingers into your pants. You rub yourself over your underwear and oh my god... you can't believe the wetness you feel after less than a minute of watching the video. You focus on the phone you're holding in your other hand and finally move your fingers into your underwear to directly touch your pussy.
On your screen you see Hyunjin start to stroke himself faster, the head of his dick a dark pink, you can feel his desperation through the screen. Without thinking you move your fingers to your clit and start rubbing it in circles, aided by the wetness of your leaking pussy.
He moans out loud and even though you can't hear it through the fog in your head, you know he's desperate. You move your fingers down to your hole and dip two of them in. You're so wet you barely need to even stretch yourself out and then he does it.
"Hngh... Oh my god, please... m-mommy!"
You push your fingers deeper and your pussy lets out he lewdest squelch which in turn makes you close your eyes desperately in pleasure. 'Mommy? When he masturbates he calls out for mommy??', the thought makes you lose your mind. You think about what it would be like if he called you mommy in the throes of pleasure.
You want to make him follow every command you give him. The way he'd look up at you on his knees with you standing above him. Maybe you could make him suck on a strap? He'd look so ridiculously delicious with his mouth full, drool dripping down his cheeks.
You add another finger and start rubbing at your clit with your thumb at the same time. The feeling makes you whimper and imagine his hands on you, teaching him how to touch you perfectly. You're getting so close and you remember to focus your screen again.
Hyunjin looks absolutely disheveled. His dick is red and throbbing, you can tell he's getting close. His voice is another thing that gives him away. He's whiny and his voice keeps cracking every time he opens his mouth. Hyunjin bucks into his hand and moans.
"... mommy, gonna cum...!", he strokes himself twice more and then finally cums. You're so close it's maddening. All the sudden you hear him... whisper your name?
It makes you go off the edge and your entire body clenches and seizes while you silently cry out from all the pleasure you're feeling. Your walls suck in your fingers with how you're clenching around them. On the screen Hyunjin twitches violently, working himself through the end of his orgasm.
You pull your fingers out of yourself and slump down on your bed exhausted, but the last 20 seconds of the video that's now over haunts you. Did you hear him right?
You gather strength to pick up your phone again and rewind the video to the part where he cums and turn the volume almost all the way up. Admittedly you end up fixating on the way his dick looks and face twists in pleasure when he cums and then he says, or more like whisper your name. Your brain blanks.
"Fuuck... Did you-haah... did you enjoy that?", he chuckles to the phone, sits in place for a bit to properly come down and then gets up to stop the video.
You're wet, confused and you can feel your heart beat out of your chest. What do you do now? How can you ever face him normally after that... Does he feel the same way you do? Is he sure he didn't mean to send it?
It's all too much to think about, so you decide that instead of thinking about it you'll clean yourself up and... crawl into a hole where no one will ever find you. Probably. The only thing you know for sure is you definitely won't be sleeping tonight.
© lollixp0p 2024 | please do not under any circumstance copy, translate, or repost my works
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fangirl-dot-com · 2 months
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Drive To Survive
key:
indented italics - flashbacks, display other than interview, screen changes
February 14, 2025 
The screen is dark as the newest episode of Drive To Survive plays. 
The title read “The Rookie.” It was finally time for the episode that everyone had been waiting for since the 2024 season ended. 
The opening scene starts with multiple flashes of cameras. If people watched the 2023 season, they would know exactly what circuit it was. The Elvis impersonators would give it away as well. 
Standing in a circle was the current world champion, two Ferrari drivers, and the Papaya duo. They smiled forced smirks for the cameras. Yet, they dropped them once they realized the cameras were not pointing to them. The Netflix camera filmed them all turning to face the front. Most of the drivers had confused looks. 
“I didn’t know Checo was a Cars fan,” the microphone picked up the words from the red clad Spaniard. 
Max smirked, the camera zooming in on the Dutchman. 
“He’s not.” 
The camera angle changes to the back of a young woman, blond hair bouncing with every step. A red scarf flowed behind her, white body suit sparkling under the flashes of all the cameras. 
The screen flashed the title before a producer chair was put in a spotlight. The camera angle switched to a back view as a driver walked around and sat in the chair. Their face is completely nonvisible from the camera angle, but people know who it is. 
The lights dim before brightening, and the camera angle is back on the chair with the driver. Blond hair reflects the lighting, as well as a nice smile. The episode clapper is in her hands.  
“Please state your name and team for the camera.” 
The woman in the chair took a breath. 
“My name is Y/n L/n and I drive for the Italian team, Scuderia Ferrari.” 
She clapped the black and white box. A loud beep sounded in the studio as the camera crew started to laugh. The girl in the chair started giggling as well, before acting serious again. 
“Yeah, that was a lie. I drive for the best, the Honda RBPT Oracle Red Bull Racing Formula 1 team. Red doesn’t look the best on me. I prefer navy.” 
She smiles, trying not to laugh once more. 
The camera quickly cuts to black and then fades into a clip, that looks similar to a home video. A young girl is smiling for the camera, tiniest helmet in her hand.  
“How old were you when you started karting?” a voice sounded over the video. 
The blond cocked her head in thought. She smiled at the nostalgia that was running through her mind. 
“I was five.” 
The same little girl was now in a kart, doing donuts on a driveway. 
“My parents had gotten me a kart as a present. They had been talking about starting me as soon as possible. I mean, I had toy cars before for practice. My first one was a bright pink Barbie car and I got that when I was 3.” 
The clip changes to a different scene. This time, it was of a karting circuit. Multiple kids were aiming for the first place spot, but a singular pink kart was going around the outside, taking it from them.  
“I remember my first time winning. It was 2008, a few months after I got my kart. All the boys there looked at me weird when I showed up with my hot pink helmet.” 
“Where you scared?” the interviewer leaned in, awaiting the answer. 
“Of the boys? Not one bit. They should have been more scared of me.” 
It was now a black screen, but multiple voices shouted over it. 
“Y/n L/n wins her first feature karting race. 
“That is another win for the female karter! 
“Y/n L/n wins the European Division for karting in 2010! 
“L/n takes the 2012 Italian Karting Division Championship!” 
“Karting will always be a part of me.” 
“Who kept you going?” 
The girl gave a sad smile to the camera as she looked down at her hands. She knew she had given them permission to talk about the subject. She just didn’t know that they’d go right off the bat. 
“My godfather, Lorenzo.” 
The screen changed to a clip of the small girl running to a taller man. The man was knelt down in the grass, arms open wide to catch the running girl. A gentle smile was on his face as he looked at the trophy in the child’s arms: almost too big for her to carry on her own. 
“I believe that without him, I wouldn’t be in this chair. I owe it all to him.” 
The scene changes once again, to multiple clips of an F4 and F3 car crossing the finish line. 
“Y/n L/n wins her first F4 race of the season! 
“Is she going to take home the championship today? Yes she does! Y/n L/n is the 2018 Formula 4 Champion!
“It is a new year and we are seeing a lot of new rookies in Formula 3. Hold on, is that Y/n L/n? Ah it is! So glad to see the girl here today especially after last year! 
One of the regulars on the show, Will Buxton, was now in the seat. 
“What are your thoughts on L/n’s rise in Formula 3?” 
Will leaned in, getting focused. 
“You have to have such a good foundation in your family and close friends, to be supported, to be good like that. Because without good support, a driver cannot be a good driver.” 
“L/n is across the line to take home her first F3 race win. We were seeing her looking a bit down earlier, so I hope this brings her spirits up because she is making history today.” 
“So, I was disowned right before that race that I won in F3.” The blond shrugged. “I really never had any good support other than like three people. At the time, two of them were just staff too.” 
She giggled at the revelation, knowing what Buxton had said beforehand. 
“Another win for L/n, making her the 2019 Formula 3 champion. Ladies and gentlemen, you do not want to miss watching this racer ever again.” 
Somber music now plays in the background. 
“How nervous were you when you made the jump from the Formula 3 division to Formula 2.” 
The girl gave a nervous scoff. “I was terrified.”
Clips of pictures filled the screen. 
“I had just lost the only person in the world who I know still cared for me.” 
“Heir to the Alessandrino Fortune Has Died” 
“Former Italian Karting Champion Lorenzo Alessandrino Has Passed Away” 
“Lorenzo Alessandrino, 2001 Formula 2 Champion, Is Dead” 
“Y/n L/n Makes Motor Sport History as the First Woman To Start in Formula 2” 
“L/n Takes the Formula 2 Feature Race” 
“Y/n L/n, History Maker: First Female To Win a Formula 2 Race” 
The headlines fade into a video of the podium. A 25-year-old Max Verstappen is visible, holding the 1st place trophy. He is seen watching the 17-year-old Y/n L/n shed some tears during her national anthem, while pointing to the sky when it finished. He gingerly stepped out and handed it to her when cued. She graciously took it from his hands and offered him a wide smile. Max stepped back, watching the young girl openly cry in front of thousands. On the inside, he wished he had that strength. 
“I could tell something was off that day.” 
A new driver was in the chair. Male, blond, and in the same team uniform as the female was. Anybody who’s anybody knew exactly who that was. 
He sucked in a breath. “Obviously, I didn’t know her or what she had been through at the time. Now knowing, I wish I had given her a hug.” 
Max let out a chuckle as he reminisced on that day. 
The screen flashed and the woman was back in the chair.
“I knew who he was. Everyone knew who he was.” Her hands waved around. “Max Verstappen, probably one of the greatest drivers to grace the grid. No one just skips most of F3 and all of F2. You have to be great. And that was Max.” 
“Was he your favorite driver on the grid at that time?” 
She let out a snort. “Oh gosh no.” 
Everyone in the studio laughed. 
The scene changed to you sitting next to Charles at one of the debriefs in Las Vegas. You had no clue why they put you there, because last you knew, you weren’t driving. However, they had said something about wanting the pole sitter and you (who had done the fastest lap in FP1) to talk for a bit. 
Your cheeks were a bit heated as you were truly sitting next to your hero. Charles could only smirk at your very shy nature next to him. He watched you rattle off about some part of the car and the balance. 
The Monegasque cut in. 
“See, this is why she is perfect to be Max’s teammate. They could talk all day.” 
Everyone around them laughed, along with you who gave some quiet giggles. You rolled your eyes. 
“Let’s not talk about the fact that you have your own ‘Leclerifying’ hmmm?” 
The girl smirked at the camera. “There was a certain McLaren driver that always tried to get the attention of a select Spaniard. If Lando was obsessed with Carlos. I was obsessed with the other Ferrari driver. I tried to get his attention on Twitter, er, well now X a couple of times. It was still Twitter when I was using it.” 
“Of course I noticed her tweets.” 
A new driver was now in the seat once again. This time, he wore the iconic Rosso Corsa team polo.  
Charles smiled as he looked down at the multiple rings on his finger. His hand came up to his neck to fidget with a certain necklace. His smile grew as he thought on the memories. 
“I thought it was sweet. A young driver was trying to keep up with the big leagues. I’m pretty sure I responded a couple of times. And Sebastian had put in a good word for her.”
“Sebastian?”
Charles’s eyes widened as he smirked. 
“Vettel. He’s known her for longer than anyone here has.”  
The scene changed again. 
The girl was back as she clapped her hands.
“Charles made my day whenever he responded. To me it was probably like if Harry Styles responded to a fangirl’s tweet or Instagram. I always hoped that I’d make it to Formula 1 and could maybe drive beside him.”
“We were told that you know retired driver Sebastian Vettel.” 
The blond smirked, not nervous but confident. 
“Yeah, I know him. He was really good friends with my godfather.” 
She leans forwards and fixes her shorts. 
“It’s kind of how Max was close to the Schumacher family. Lorenzo worked with Seb multiple times in the very early 2000’s when Seb was still in karting. I want to say probably even before I was born as well. He was a little bit older than Seb, more like a mentor. I was able to catch up with Sebastian around 2020 and I got to meet a few more people.”
“People such as?” they prodded. 
“Kimi, Nico, Mark. I’m pretty sure I met Lewis like once though when I was pretty young. Like probably around 2015. I got to watch a couple of Formula 1 races with them in 2020.”  
The camera cuts to a man wearing the Mercedes logo on his polo. His braids are kept nicely as he smiles at the camera. They hand him a picture of you and him in 2015. His eyes are wide as he keeps looking at the photo and then to the camera. 
“This was her?” Lewis questioned, letting out a small laugh. His eyes squint as he tries to get a closer look in the dark room. 
The scene changes once again, the female driver back in the seat.
“Were you nervous that you might not have made it? To Formula 1 after what happened in 2020?” 
The blond looked down at her hands. 
“There were a few years where I was convinced that I wouldn’t.”  
The screen fades to more headlines. 
“Y/n L/n enters a second year of Formula 2 with PREMA” 
“The Future for F2’s Only Female Driver is Uncertain” 
“L/n Is Out of the Last F2 Race of the Season” 
“PREMA Drops L/n for Her F2 Final Season?” 
A clip of a meeting of some sorts flashed on the screen. You were looking quite down as you picked at the end of a table as someone read off a paper. You didn’t even want to pay attention as they were nailing the final nail into the coffin.
“Prema Racing has decided to let go of driver number 89, Y/n L/n. After the 2022 season, she will no longer race for or have any affiliations with Prema and will be replaced by Ollie Bearman.” 
You spoke up. “But I have a contract until the end of 2023.” 
The representative glared at you, before looking back at the page and kept reading. “Since driver 89 has underperformed in the past 2 years, Prema has decided to break contract. Compensation will be sent at a later time.” 
Vito had silently grasped your shoulder to offer you some comfort, but the hurt had already been done. You were going into a season for the first time since F4, you didn’t have a secured future in the sport. 
Ollie was sitting on the other side, watching you sadly as they basically read your death sentence. The camera zoomed in on you playing with a pen. If one were to look closely, they could see tears streaming down your cheeks. 
Will was back in the seat. 
“A driver without a contract or team cannot drive.” 
The scene changes back to the driver. 
“I mean. I had other options. On the side I was talking to Sebastian and even Nico. I was trying to keep my eyes open for something, anything. Except, it turned out that I didn’t need to.” 
More headlines flashed.  
“DAMS To Sign Both Leclerc and L/n for 2023” 
“Y/n L/n Wins First Two Races of the 2023 Formula 2 Season” 
“L/n Wins Her Third Race with Teammate Arthur Leclerc Behind Her” 
“Y/n L/n Makes History Once Again: First Female To Win Formula 2 Championship” 
“Y/n L/n: Youngest Driver To Win F2 Championship” 
The girl is back in the chair, the spotlight on her. 
“I didn’t know that I’d get the championship my final year. I was skeptical. I really thought that I wouldn’t be able to, since it was my final year, I had been dropped, and I had a new teammate. But I had a really good teammate and a better team. They really put everything into me being the best driver.” 
“What did you think would happen after everything was over? You had won the championship with 1 race to spare.” 
The girl swallowed before speaking. “Obviously, I thought I didn’t have many options. At the time, it seemed as though every door was closed. I kept talking to my manager about it, and every time he said he would come back empty handed. I even talked to him that morning, and he just had a sad smile on his face.” She paused. “I knew that even though I could be the champion, I had nowhere to go after that.” 
The person in the chair changed. 
“So, that was all a lie,” Vito spoke to the camera, a smile on his face. 
The scene had changed. Vito Accardi, Y/n L/n’s manager, was seated in a chair. It looked like he was stressing over his laptop. Stella, L/n’s  race engineer at the time of 2023, was seated across from him. He was silently tapping a pen on the table as he looked over the words on the screen.  
“Too many junk emails?” she teased, settling into her chair. 
The male shook his head. 
The screen showed multiple contracts up at once, lines upon lines were highlighted. The headers at the top of each contract showed very recognizable logos. 
He smirked as he looked directly at the camera. “I couldn’t tell her anything until I knew that there was something for certain.” 
“How many teams wanted her?” 
“All of them.” 
The scene changed to a past driver’s get-together: one that no one had seen before. The group consisted of Max Verstappen, Charles Leclerc, Lando Norris, Lewis Hamilton, Fernando Alonso, Daniel Ricciardo. An odd group, but they were just waiting around (or hiding on a Wednesday). 
Charles was looking down at his phone, while Max was watching him closely. The Monegasque’s fingers were typing at a lightning speed. 
Lando was the one to point it out. 
“What’s got you in a tizzy?” the Briton asked, pulling Charles out of whatever fog he was in. He quickly turned his phone off. 
“Ferrari is wanting to sign someone else, but wouldn’t be able to do so until 2025. Except her manager insists on a seat for 2024.” 
Lewis had his interest piqued. “It is Y/n L/n?” 
“Yeah. My brother has put in great words for her, along with Sebastian. Pierre also says that Alpine is thinking of options too.  She’s,” he huffed, “very good. Almost a little too good.”  
The other Mercedes driver took a sip of his drink. “Toto was just talking to me about that, but he said the same thing. There aren’t any seats available until 2025. But he wants her.” 
Lando rolled his eyes. “So we’ve all gotten the talk about how all the team principals want to sign her. Even McLaren is speaking about how to get her a seat somewhere. Testing driver or something like that.” 
The older Spaniard spoke up. “It would be foolish not to. She has generational talent. Stroll is looking at her as well.” 
“So are we. Except there aren’t any seats,” an Aussie added. 
Max was quietly reading almost every article he could get his hands on about her. In the back of his mind, he knew that Checo was going to retire after this year (especially after what happened at Mexico). He quickly sent one to Christian, only getting a thumbs up. 
Daniel bumped Max. “You’ve been quiet over there. What are your thoughts on the potential rookie?” 
The Dutchman looked up. “What rookie?”
The scene changed back to the Italian man. 
“I’ve been her manager for years. I knew exactly what she needed at that moment. Sure, I could have told her, but I knew she wanted to race in 2024 and not wait. I’m not her manager for nothing.” 
“How did you get in touch with Red Bull’s Christian Horner.” 
The man adjusted in the chair. “Well, even though she wasn’t on their junior team, the actual brand Red Bull was one of her sponsors in karting.” 
The scene changes once again, this time the Team Principal of the currently reining team was now in the seat. 
“Vito had gotten in contact with me when she first started F2,” the older Briton said. “But we wanted to see what would happen. We took a chance at Max, way back then. But this was a bit different.” 
The interviewer asked, “Because she was a girl?” 
Christian shook his head. 
“Because she was 16 at the start: younger than Max was by two years. Sure, she turned 17 at the end of the season due to a later birthday in October. But, we took a step back to see what she could do, especially now that they changed the age rules after Max. She was dropped by PREMA, and we almost took the chance then to maybe bring her in as a development driver. But, Vito was adamant about her wanting a championship. She wanted records broken, and she did.” 
“How did everything go down? Before she knew.” 
He smiled.
“I called him right after I got the article from Max. Youngest to win an F2 Championship and a female on top of that.” 
“Was everything pretty smooth sailing?” 
He shook his head. “I was advised not to sign her, but I was told ‘no’ for Max and you see where that got me. I wasn’t going to let her go to a team that wouldn’t let her shine.” 
The scene changes to the RB19 being driven out at the mock track for training. The girl’s white helmet was a stark contrast against the deep navy of the car. The camera panned to the mock pit wall. Multiple people pressed buttons as they watched you take lap after lap. 
A much older man just looked on with pinched eyebrows, not really interested in seeing what the girl had to offer.
After the final testing times had been clocked, he stood up and slammed his papers on a table, before he left the pits. Christian smirked as he watched him stalk off. He knew he made the right call for the second time. 
“How did it feel being in the seat for the first time?” 
The girl, back in the seat, responded, “It felt surreal.” 
She kept talking as the screen faded into clips of the car. 
The aerial view watched as the car look several laps: getting close ups and shots of the car going around the corners.  
“I went from having the door slammed into my face to the door being blown to bits.” 
“Did Vito ever tell you that he was talking to multiple people at once?” 
She looked at the camera. “He did. But he knew what I needed. That’s why he’s been my manager since 2018.” 
The scene changes to multiple flashing cameras as the girl walked into the paddock for the first time in Vegas. The cameras followed as she straight up walked to the group of older guys, introduced herself, and followed Max as he walked away. The rest of the guys watched her animatedly talk to the man who hated every second of the Las Vegas Grand Prix. 
“The beginning of your season was filled with a lot of highs,” 
The screen flashes to multiple clips of you raising trophies, especially highlighting your podium in Bahrain. 
“And lows.” 
The female’s eyebrows raised. “No kidding.” 
The scene changes to your car flipping in Suzuka before panning to people’s reactions. Many people immediately stood up. Others put their hands over their mouths. Many stayed sitting, frozen in shock over what they just saw. 
The screen fades to black, but radio messages can be heard. 
“Kid, you have to answer me.” 
“Tell me you’re ok. You need to respond.” 
“I can’t lose you too.” 
Charles was back in the chair. Tears could be seen in his lash line as he exhaled a shaky breath. He closed his eyes, trying to get over his emotions. 
“A crash like that doesn’t happen every day. It was awful, just waiting to hear back from her. Really took me back to 2014. Reminded me of Jules. On the same track. Rain. I don’t think I would have finished the season if she hadn’t made it.” 
The scene changes to multiple marshals standing around the car, trying to get to you. Except, you were trapped. They didn’t want to start cutting, just in case there was a fuel leak. They did not need for the car to catch fire.  
“I remember watching Lewis just turn around,” George said, now that he was in the seat. “He kept shaking his head and muttering. I couldn’t stop crying.” 
“Y/n is a driver who was shy at the beginning, but then got more comfortable with you as time passed. She became precious to everyone on the grid.” Oscar offered a smile, but it fell short as he remembered Suzuka. 
“There hadn’t-” Lewis began, but cut short. He swallowed before he kept going. “There hadn’t been a crash like that since 2014. And the last time it happened, he didn’t make it. I was honestly preparing myself for the worst.” 
Max shrugged his shoulders, trying to be nonchalant. Yet, anyone could see that his hands were shaking just a bit, his fingers picking at his skin. 
“She just wouldn’t answer. And then they got Arthur Leclerc on the radio, thinking that he could get to her. Even then, she didn’t respond for what felt like hours. We were all waiting, on the pit lane, just hoping that she’d start talking soon.” 
“What did it feel like for you in the car?” 
The female was back in the seat. 
“All I really remember was seeing the sky and the grass as I rolled, and then nothing. I had totally blacked out. When I was coming to, I just remember hearing so much through the radio, I didn’t know what to make of it. I think I laughed as I answered. I was just happy to be alive.” 
“We know that was your first DNF. Thankfully the second wasn’t as bad.” 
“No kidding,” she laughed. “My car just doesn’t have very good balance.” 
“You’ve had lots of podiums. Which one was the most fulfilling?” 
The girl looked up in thought. Her eyes narrowed, truly going over her options. She didn’t want to have to talk about certain matters, but she didn’t want it to be brought up later. 
She answered, “Imola.” 
“What was so special or daunting because of it?” 
The blond harshly inhaled, before smirking a bit. “Well, lot of people knew how it ended.” 
The scene changes to multiple police cars around the paddock. The camera barely caught a glimpse of two people being let away in handcuff before panning over to the group of drivers. The lens zoomed in on your face, a big bruise forming by your eye. Max was standing protectively near you as Christian was still yelling at the people in the car. The other drivers can be seen hovering around the scene. 
Max gulped before he sighed. 
“I knew it was bad, but not this bad. I’m just glad that I had gotten to her in time.” 
The female stretched. “Except I got a trophy out of it, so, I wasn’t too sad.” 
The scene changes to the next race, where most of the drivers were waiting for the parade. They could tell that someone was missing. Except, right when Lando was about to bring it up, you walked in. Sunglasses were on your eyes, trying to hide the ugly yellow and purple blotch on your face. Except, it didn’t do too much to actually hide it. 
“Afternoon,” you said, sipping on a drink that you brought. Your fingers took off your glasses, multiple drivers wincing. “It’s not that bad.” 
Lando rolled his eyes before muttering, “They shouldn’t have been allowed back in.” 
Max handed you an icepack, which you grabbed immediately. Logan brought you into a side hug and let you rest against him.  
The Dutchman let everyone know that you had finally gotten your restraining order approved. Smiles adorned the rest of the drivers’ faces at the news. 
An older Aussie was now in the seat. 
“I wasn’t there when she met everyone. But I watched Max let her follow him, in Vegas. It was cute, ‘cause I’ve never seen Max act like that before. But she’ s been a good teammate to him. Not trying to be rude, but I’m also putting myself down when I say this: she has been the best teammate that Max has ever had.” 
The scene changes to you and Max in a car on the way to a race. The two of you are seated next to each other and phones are in your hands. A sudden gasp from you has you reaching over to Max, your hand smacking his chest. 
The Dutchman winces. “What?” 
“Taylor Swift broke up with Travis Kelce. Fernando has his chance.” 
Viewers would have thought that Max would seem uninterested, but his eyes widened and he was suddenly leaning over, trying to get a good look at your phone. 
“You’re lying.” 
“No I’m not. See?” You just handed your phone over and Max was instantly enthralled with the device, fingers scrolling quickly. 
“It’s definitely like they have a competitive sibling relationship.” 
Max watched as you were talking to Oscar, the afternoon after you hit his car. Max smirked as he walked past and bumped you on purpose. Your head whipped around, trying to find who did that. Once you saw Max’s shoulders shake as he walked away, it was over. You quickly said goodbye to Oscar before running up to Max. 
What he did not expect was for you to jump on his back, almost sending him face first into cement. He stumbled but his arms were quick to grab your legs. Your giggles were loud next to his ear, but Max guessed that he’d let you stay. 
“I know for a fact that it’s been good to see Max a bit more carefree. Y/n really brings out the good in him. She really does that to everyone though.” 
Rain was pouring down in Brazil, due to a hurricane in the area. The race had been canceled and Max was just chilling in the garage. His eyes caught your figure walking out into the downpour. He watched as you just stood there, getting drenched. That was until you started dancing to no music at all. 
Max got up from his seat and walked over to a manager. 
“May I?” he asked, the manager nodding his head. 
He plugged his phone into a jack and clicked on a specific playlist that the two of you had made together. Normally, it would be playing while the two of you warmed up to get ready in the car. But now it was playing as you continued to dance. 
Max quickly joined you and bumped you with his hip. The cameras caught you looking up at your older teammate, whose body was quickly getting drenched. Before long, the two of you were dancing in the rain. 
And very possibly, the other drivers joined in too. 
“She really cares for him. It was like they met and clicked right away.” 
Clips of you and Max filled the screen. Walking together in the paddock, signing things for fans, doing stupid things for media day, congratulating each other after races. 
It showed you checking on him after a DNF, wanting a legitimate answer if he was okay or not. Once Max gave the thumbs up and Mitch told you that he was, the cameras in your car showed how your body visibly relaxed after know that he was ok. 
“Sure, they’ve had their troubles.” 
The scene changes to Max passing you in Monaco. 
Your voice was heard over the scene. “What an asshole.”
The scene changed to you not letting Max pass and him hitting the back of your RB20 in Belgium. 
“That was a rookie mistake.” 
The viewers knew that they had deliberately cut a certain action out of the scene, but it was something that they were actually thankful that Netflix cut. 
“But they always apologize and get back to it. I think that’s how she got her first win. She needed to know that they could truly work as a team.” 
The scene showed you and Max giving each other a big hug in The Netherlands after Max won the Dutch Grand Prix. 
The scene changes once more. 
“How was it? Winning in the city of red.” 
“Words cannot express.” 
The screen showed you walking in on that fateful morning, bright orange car in the background. You waved to the crowds, who seemed to get louder with your attention. Your smile brightly shone as you kept walking, only stopping momentarily for a few autographs and pictures. 
“Y/n L/n On Pole in Monza – Youngest Pole Sitter in F1 History”
“There she goes! Y/n L/n has won the 2024 Italian Grand Prix. She was starving, but now she’s been satiated. The youngest pole sitter and turned that into a win.”  
“Y/n L/n – First Female To Ever Win a Formula 1 Grand Prix” 
"Y/n L/n Hailed as 'The Long Awaited' by Italian Fans"
The camera pans to the girl standing on the nose of her car, hands stretched up reaching for the sky. Max, who had DNF earlier, came over. She grasped him tightly, legs around his waist. Christian was behind them, joining in the celebrations. Soon, the entirety of the crew got over the barrier and flooded the area. The two Ferrari drivers, in a respectable P2 and P3, watched as the female driver was almost covered by people. If it wasn’t them, then they were glad it was her. 
The blond returned back to the seat. 
“Let me tell you, the after party was probably my favorite part of the weekend. Well, besides the winning part.” 
“After Monza, how did the rest of the season go.” 
“Well, I did go on to win 3 more races.” The girl smirked. 
Clips of the number 89 car crossing the finish line cover the screen. 
“Y/n L/n takes her second win of the season after Monza in Mexico! 
It showed you waving to the crowds of Mexico, flag draped over your shoulders with a sombrero on your head.. 
“A homecoming of sorts, Y/n L/n wins a third race under the lights of Las Vegas! 
Your fists were clenched as you shook them while your knees were bent. The while Elvis suit kind of glowed against the night sky. 
“L/n wins her fourth race of the season in Abu Dhabi. Ending a perfect rookie year on a high!” 
The crowds watch you get on your hands and knees before your car. Your hands outstretched in almost a mock bow to the machine. 
The scenes show the you hoisting up three more trophies, all while pointing to the sky after each one.  
The interviewer looked down at their questions, before glancing back up at the girl. 
“What was your worst race? One that you didn’t DNF.” 
The girl didn’t even hesitate. “Qatar.” 
“Why is that?” 
She shrugged. “I thought it would be cooler.” 
The screen goes black, but then changes to a very busy scene. People could see medical personelle holding onto a driver by their arms. Their legs all but dragged along the concrete. Lights flashed around as they brought her to a makeshift cot. Her helmet was ripped off along with the cloth under it. You gasped as you tried to catch your breath. Your cheeks were red and your hair matted with sweat. 
“I need an IV and cooling towels now!” 
“Her blood pressure is dropping, she’s going to pass out again.” 
“Hey, you need to stay awake. Do not close your eyes.” 
“Her breath is more shallow, she needs to cool down. Get buckets of ice and water.” 
It changes to a podium, but only two drivers are present. It was supposed to be a Papaya sandwich after Oscar had gotten his first actual race win. They looked worried and barely stayed for the celebrations. 
The cameras followed as the orange drivers as they ran to the Red Bull garage once the podium was finished. They expected to see you still unconscious, since that was the last they heard before the podium. Yet, they were surprised to see you upright and smiley. An IV was connected to your arm, but you were awake. 
Oscar ran, before wrapping his arms around you. 
“Do not do that again. I can’t believe that you kept racing.” 
You smiled up at him and Lando. 
“What can I say? I’m indestructible.” 
“She’s impressive.” A German voices his opinion now that he’s in the seats. “I don’t wish to say it, but I’m glad she’s at the different team. I don’t know if we would have been able to give her the car that she needed.” 
The interviewer looks a Toto for a moment, before continuing. “You think she’ll leave Red Bull at some point in her career?” 
The Mercedes Team Principal shakes his head. “No. She’s going to stay until she retires. I’m sure of it. But who am I to talk about staying with a team forever.” 
The scene changes to you and Max, both casually hanging out. You sighed as you looked down at your phone. Max quirked an eyebrow, but stayed silent, giving you the go ahead to spill. 
“They’re asking again if I’m going to be staying past 2026.” Your arms waved around before you huffed and they fell at your sides. 
The Dutchman rolled his eyes. “Are you wanting to stay past that?” 
You grinned at the older driver. “Can’t go anywhere when I have the best here.” 
The scene changes to the blond female Red Bull racer, back in the chair once again.
“Do you think you’ll ever move teams?” 
She shook her head. “No, I don’t think I will. It seems that every racer’s dream is to drive for the team in red, but not mine. I’ve always wanted to just race for the team that will get me places, and I think that Red Bull can stay on top for many years to come.” 
The interviewer continued. “What do you think you’ll do after Formula 1.” 
She smirked. 
“After, I want to collect. I’m thinking the triple crown. Probably go to endurance racing and then 1 year of Indy. I know I’ll be able to do it.” 
“If you could have your dream team for Le Mans, who would it be?” 
“Either Leclerc in addition to Max. I don’t think I could be anyone else’s teammate ever.” 
Clips of Charles, Arthur, Y/n, and Max showed on the screen. They might look like an odd bunch, but they worked somehow. Arthur had been promoted at the end of 2024 to actually drive for Porsche in the 2025 Qatar endurance race. Late in the editing, they were able to sneak in a clip of the four of you celebrating after he podiumed.  
“So, we heard that you and Max were able to sign new contracts at the end of 2024. How long are the both of you going to stay.” 
The girl thought for a moment, trying to think of how to word it correctly. 
“Well, we both have kind of open ended contracts like Charles signed in early 2024. Christian said that he’ll do his best to keep us there, but we aren’t bound. I plan to stay for a while and so does Max if they keep giving us good cars that can still dominate.” 
“Do you plan to break any more records? You sure had a lot in the past season as well as early years.” 
“How many do I have?” she asked. 
The interviewer counted. “Five.” 
She smirked for the final time for the episode. “Five? That’s hardly enough. Let’s make it interesting and get 6.”  
Everyone in the room laughed at her joke. 
The screen cut to black and the episode ended. Yet when the female racer retired, they went back and added one more thing. 
“Y/n L/n went on to be the most decorated racer of all time. She ended up breaking 22 records in the duration of her entire motorsport career, that no one has been able to touch since.” 
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shoyostar · 7 months
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𝓓𝐄𝐀𝐑 𝓕𝐔𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐄 𝓗𝐔𝐒𝐁𝐀𝐍𝐃!
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oh future husband, better love me right!
premise. the nhk is hosting another special broadcast featuring the popular fiancées of the jnt’s lineup! and this time, it’s truth or drink! ❤︎
content. haikyu!! jnt / f!reader. (koutarou bokuto, morisuke yaku, kiyoomi sakusa & tobio kageyama). fluff. downbad fiancés. suggestive jokes & allusions to sex. petnames. alcohol. overseas!kageyama & yaku (LDR). reader lives in japan (does not equal being japanese). a little angst.
notes. this part is… a little long! sit down for it ❤︎
soundtrack. dear future husband : meghan trainor.
part one can be read here.
dear future husband m.list // hq. masterlist.
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KOUTAROU BOKUTO.
“Been awhile since I last drank,” Bokuto cracks his knuckles upon seeing the many selections of beer he gets to choose, fingers twitching eagerly as they hover over the bottles. “Wonder what I should get…”
You sigh beside him jokingly, nudging his shoulder with your elbow, “We don’t have all day, Kou.”
“I’m just looking!” He chuckles, holding his hands up in mock surrender.
He randomly picks up a bottle of Sapporo, rotating it in his hands before nodding to himself, “This seems good!”
You place your hand on the small of his back, guiding him towards the studio for a final run through before the broadcast, “Alright, Kou. Now let’s get this started!”
The NHK film crew do a final mic and sound check when you arrive as a staff member seats you both at the table in the centre of the studio, a pile of cards with questions written on them, two shot glasses and the Sapporo bottle your fiancé picked out lined on it’s top.
After fiddling with the microphones hidden inside your clothes, the crew give you two a thumbs up and rush back to their cameras to start the recording.
Bokuto’s entire body is turned towards the cameras, sitting on the edge of his seat as he eagerly greets the viewers, “Hey! I’m Koutarou Bokuto,” he catches your eyes with a bright smile, grabbing your hand from across the table, “And this is my fiancée!”
“And we’ve been together for three years now,” You finish for him, hands folded neatly on the table, the cameras pan to show off the engagment rings that sits prettily on both you and Bokuto’s fingers.
“Four months engaged.”
“And we’re playing truth or drink!” You and Bokuto announce happily together, smiling at each other before turning your bodies back to face the cameras. The film crew adjust their angles, moving their cameras off their stands to get better opening shots of you and your fiancé.
“You guys ready to play?” The head camera crew member asks, giving you the okay to start the game.
The studio lights illuminate the white backdropped room, enveloping your eyes in waves whenever you stare at the camera lenses for a little too long.
You and Bokuto nod as he shifts his gaze towards you, “Want me to go first, Baby?” He asks, already grabbing his shot glass and the bottle of Sapporo. You giggle, “So eager to get drunk, Kou?”
“I told you, it’s been awhile!” He beams, pouring out the alcohol carefully into his shot and grabbing the top card from the pile on the table.
“What do you like most about me?” he reads aloud, looking up at you curiously, “I’m pretty sure you’ve told me this exact answer before.”
“Have I?” you tilt your head in thought, thinking the question over, “I mean, probably. It has been three years, after all.”
Bokuto places the card face down on his side of the table, combing through his hair, “I think when we first started dating, you told me it was my hair.”
“It is nice,” you agree, causing Bokuto to start laughing and in turn making you giggle as well. The two of you are already giddy and snickering despite no alcohol being present in your systems yet, “But I think now that we’re engaged, I can give a more detailed answer.”
“Oh?”
He leans over the table excitedly, a wide grin plastered across his face, “Tell me, Baby! What do you like most about me?” His hand is still placed atop of yours, the perfectly cut gems in both of your rings twinkling in sync underneath the studio lights, perfectly complimenting you fiancé’s eyes.
You hum in faux thought for a moment before smirking, “Hmm, your muscles.”
Bokuto’s smile drops slightly to a pout, still keeping his bright composure while masking his lowered grin, “Awe, Baby I thought you were going to say something like, real deep and emotional!” He jests, “Like how you love that I make you smile, y’know?”
You throw your head back in laughter, nudging his shoulder with your free hand, “I’m kidding, Kou!” Your smile is genuine when you see how disappointed he was at first at your reply, looking straight into his eyes as a way reassure him.
“Yes, Kou. What I like most is that you make me the happiest every day I’m with you.”
His smile brightens significantly, a chuckle of his own escaping his lips as he leans back into his chair, “Damn, played by my own girl.”
He slides the pile of cards over to you with a mischievous smirk, “Not that I’m complaining.”
You take the top card off the pile and read it over, fingers twirling the empty shot glass in your hands. Your lips purse as you try to contain the giggles making their way up your throat while reading the question on the card, hands quivering in silent laughter.
“Have you ever wanted to fuck one of our friends while with me?” Bokuto’s eyes seem to pop out of his head at the vast difference and shift in questions, turning to the NHK staff while laughing, “Are you sure this is okay to broadcast?”
The film crew nod, to which Bokuto shrugs, “Alright, then,” before turning back to you. “Uhh, can I just like- take a shot right now?”
“You’d rather drink than not tell me?” You joke, pouring out the Sapporo for your fiancé, “Damn, Kou. Do I not satisfy you enough?”
“Of course you do!” He corrects himself hastily, “It’s just, uh..” he leans in closer to you whisper in your ear quietly, “I don’t want to say Atsumu on national T.V...”
Your hand flies to your mouth in shock, shoulders shaking as you try to contain your cackles, “Atsumu?” you repeat in a hushed tone, making sure you heard him correctly. “Him?”
“He’s got nice hair!”
You both start to laugh at how hair seems to be a common appealing trait you notice in people. Shaking your head in mock disappointment, you shove the stack of questions back over to your fiancé’s side for his turn.
“What is the most embarrassing thing you caught me doing when I thought I was alone?” Bokuto asks, reading from the card he picked off the top of the pile and glancing back up at you.
You hum in thought for a moment, pondering the question.
“Uhm, I think that time you were rehearsing your Valentines day speech to me before we went out to eat at that restaurant a few years ago,” you reveal cautiously, “but you were using a pillow with a photo of my face taped on it as a stand-in.”
Bokuto’s jaw drops at the revelation, nearly falling out of his chair from the shock of what you just divulged to him, “You were there? Watching me do that?”
You have to practically fight the cackle bubbling it’s way up your throat, a smile creeping onto your face when you answer, “Yes, Kou. But it was sweet, so I didn’t mention it to you.”
“You kept that a secret for two years?” He asks again, and you nod.
Your fiancé’s face remains stunned for a few more moments before breaking out into a smile of his own, hand running down his face while laughing to himself. “Damn, I must’ve looked so dumb.”
“I thought it was cute!” You attempt to salvage things, giggling as you pick up the next question card, this time it’s for Bokuto.
“What part of wedding planning is the most challenging part for you?”
“The money…” He pouts, taking the card from you to read it over again before turning to the cameras.
“Weddings are so damn expensive— Did you know wedding flowers can cost up to two million yen?” He exclaims in shock, “For flowers!”
You sigh, plucking the question card from his hand and setting aside on his pile with a smile, “This is why you should leave the financial decisions to me, Kou. Our floral arrangements will not be that expensive, I can assure you.”
“Of course, Baby,” he grins, “I trust you completely on that,” his hands move to pick up the next card, lifting the corner and taking a peek at the question before flipping it over and reading it.
“What is something you’ve wanted to try in the bedroom but haven’t told me about?”
“Impact play,” comes your answer a bit too hastily to be considered normal.
Bokuto has a silent stare off with you for a few seconds after before you both break out in hysterical laughter, your fiancé cackling at how fast and prepared you were when you answered while you exclaim that’s why you could never tell him.
“Baby, that was so fast!” Bokuto reels over the table, pounding his fist into the wood while howling with laughter, gripping his empty shot glass in hand.
“Were you— were you that prepared to answer?”
Wiping the tears from your eyes, you make an attempt to defend your response, “I know you’d absolutely wreck me if we tried, that’s why I never asked!”
“I mean…” He trails off, glancing at you and letting his eyes roam your ring finger as a smirk makes it’s way onto his face, leaning closer to you over the table. “We could always try it at home later—”
“Last question!” You interrupt him, pulling the cards over to your side and grabbing the last question from the stack, you see Bokuto’s smile drop when he sits back in his seat from how you changed topics until he sees you wink at him from the corner of his eye.
“What is something you wish to tell me before we get married?”
Bokuto’s eyes light up at his question, holding up his shot of Sapporo and beaming brightly. Despite not drinking much during your game, his cheeks are flushed like he’s been drunk on your love this entire time, eyes crinkling with glee when he smiles.
“I hope I can keep being this happy when i’m with you after marriage,” He declares, “I love you, Baby.”
“I love you too, Kou,” you smile with him, raising your own shot to clink your two glasses together and down them simultaneously, the cool smoothness of the beer running down your throats.
You can feel the mild bitterness on your tongue afterwards, it leaves it’s taste behind even several hours after your drinking game when you two return to your shared home.
But the sincerity in Bokuto’s eyes when they fell on you back in the studio, and the way he gazes at you like you’re the only thing in his world even with the several NHK staff and film members recording your every move washes that all away instantaneously, overpowering it with sheer sweetness.
It’s just not one you can taste as easily as the flavour of Sapporo.
You might not have gotten drunk that night, but Bokuto’s certain he’s been drunk on your love for the entirety of all three years you’ve been together and wouldn’t mind if things stayed like this forever.
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MORISUKE YAKU.
“You’re going down, sweetheart,” Yaku warns you with a teasing wink, lifting the bottle of Vodka in his hands to inspect the label, “Playing in the Russian League gives me an alcohol tolerance advantage that you don’t have.”
“I didn’t know just playing in Russia meant you were an experienced drinker,” you hum, playing along with his jokes for the fun of it. “I don’t think athletes are supposed to consume a lot of vodka anyways.”
“Well, you might as well back out now,” Yaku advises, shrugging with a sly grin, one of the camera crew’s members rushes up to fix the loose microphone on his suit before scurrying back to their position.
“Don’t wanna get beaten by your own fiancé now, do you?”
You merely roll your eyes at his antics, a reluctant smile making it’s way onto your face as you realign the messy stack of cards on your table, sounds of the director doing a final run through of lights and cameras are heard around you.
“Yeah yeah, save it for after you get wasted, Mori.”
The cameras start up as the director nods in your direction, indicating for you two to introduce yourselves to the viewers tuning in, Yaku holds your hand as he recites his lines.
“Hi, I’m Morisuke Yaku,” your fiancé beams, giving your hand a comforting squeeze, “And this right here, is my wonderful fiancée, whom I adore very much.”
Even several years later, Yaku’s swoon worthy words have an effect on you after all this time, making you feel like you’re still in that young and eager love stage. Attempting to hide your giddy face from him, you turn to face the camera as well with a wide grin.
“We’ve been together for four and a half years,” You gush, the sparkling engagement band on your finger being shown outwardly when the cameras zoom in for a closer look. “Engaged for eight months, now.”
“And today, we’ll be playing truth or drink,” Yaku reveals to the excited viewers, the cameras change positions to new angles while the sound crew makes sure your microphones are picking up your words.
After signaling to the director that they are indeed working, he asks you two, “Are you ready to play?”
You and Yaku both agree as he opens the bottle of Vodka, pouring it into your shot glass first before he pours out his own, “Hm, what a gentleman you are, Mori.” You joke, noticing he gave you your alcohol first before serving himself any.
“Always, for you.” He sighs dreamily, setting the bottle down beside him and pushing the cards over to you with his familiar cheshire grin. “And because I’m such a gentleman, you should go first, love.”
You stifle a laugh into the palm of your hand at the sudden switch in personality but take the top card off anyway, flipping it over and reading the question for Yaku written on it, “What is one thing you wish I did more of in our relationship?”
He groans, slumping down in his seat with his Vodka in hand, “Fly over to come visit me overseas,” he jokingly groans, faux-booing you with a thumbs down and all as he turns to the film crew.
“Did you know she doesn’t get on the first plane to Russia whenever I ask, can you believe her?”
You merely snicker at his jeers and turn your card over, placing it down on the table beside your shot. “Well I’m sorry, but I’m unable to predict whenever you’ll miss me spontaneously.”
“It’s not spontaneous,” Yaku argues, “I tell you like, two minutes in advance.”
You raise an eyebrow at his claims, “Wanna bet, Mori? I have screenshots.”
“Maybe I’ll just drink to this instead.”
You both giggle as he shakes his head in defeat, taking the next card off the pile and reading out loud the first question for you.
“Have you ever—” Yaku begins to lose his composure as he reads, holding back his giggles before sputtering out, “faked an orgasm with me?”
You burst out into laughter as Yaku discards the card to his side, head thrown back in hysterics while using the table to stabilize himself.
“Well?” He asks, wiping the tears that have begun to form around his eyes, “Have you?”
You begin to reach for your Vodka shot, causing your fiancé to break out into another, more excessive fit of cackles, “Are you serious, honey?”
“Okay well, maybe!” You confess wholeheartedly, raising the Vodka to your lips, “Back when we were first dating!”
Yaku scoffs disapprovingly, but you can tell he’s not seriously mad when you down the vodka and he’s looking at you worriedly, asking if it was too strong for you afterwards.
You dismiss his concerns, saying it’s fine and that you can handle it before he relaxes and pushes the cards back over to you.
“Have you ever had a dream about me cheating on you?” You ask him, Yaku’s face immediately sours at his question, you look to him expectantly and wait for his reply.
“… Ugh, yes,” he begrudgingly admits after a few moments of silence, eyebrows furrowing as he recalls it unpleasantly, “I had a dream once where you cheated on me with Lev.”
“Lev?” You cackle, “The— the 6’5 russian guy from your highschool volleyball team??”
Yaku’s hand moves to his vodka-filled shot glass, “Yes,” he moans, “It was awful. Hope I never see Lev butt-naked in my dreams ever again.”
“You don’t have to drink to this one, Mori,” you giggle as Yaku downs his vodka quickly, not even flinching at the burn, maybe he was right about the tolerance advantage. “Since you answered it.”
“Ah, don’t care,” he groans, wiping his mouth with the sleeve of his suit, “After having to reimagine that scene, I needed the alcohol.”
Yaku takes the next card off the pile of questions skeptically, flipping it over and reading it out loud.
“Do you have any insecurities when it comes to me playing overseas in Russia?”
The question causes you to stop and think as Yaku places the card face down next to him, pouring another shot and sliding it over to you. “You don’t have to say anything, sweetheart.”
His gentle tone reassures you but you shake your head, pushing the vodka away, “No it’s okay, I don’t mind saying it.” Yaku looks surprised but nods understandingly, taking the glass back and giving you the room to process your next words while he remains quiet.
“I think my only insecurity is not knowing if you’re safe while overseas,” you admit to your fiancé. Yaku doesn’t say anything in response, knowing you have more to say as he lets you say what you need while silently encouraging you to elaborate.
“I hate not having you beside me because I don’t know where you are, and I just miss you a lot you know?”
Yaku’s cheek rests against the palm of his hand, concern washing over his face again as he looks across the table to you, “Awe, honey. I didn’t know you felt that way,” he coos, “do you hate whenever I leave for volleyball season?”
You shrug dismissively, the weight of your words beginning to catch up to you as your voice becomes quieter, trailing off at the end. “I mean, I don’t hate it, but like- I wanna know you’re alright while in Russia…”
Yaku’s about to speak when you shake your head dismissively, “It’s fine, don’t worry about it,” before you’re reaching for the deck of cards, already pulling the top question up and flipping it over to read.
Your eyes drag over the words as a pit begins to form inside your stomach. The next question for Yaku causes you to cringe, still reeling from the uneasiness of the last one as you awkwardly ask him, “Have you… ever regretted or had doubts about our engagement?”
Yaku’s face of concern turns into one of astonishment, he looks almost appalled at how unsure you look and sound while asking him.
“Absolutely not,” he states firmly, holding your hand that holds engagement band on it, you can feel the distress radiating off him as he reassures you in a hushed tone.
“I’ve never once regretted proposing to you, and I fully intend on marrying you.”
Yaku’s words dislodge the lump in your throat as you begin to chuckle to yourself, eyes looking down at his hand where the engagement ring he wears that matched your own. “I’m sorry if you thought I was doubting you, Mori. It’s just—”
“You don’t need to justify your feelings,” Yaku reiterates sternly, “I know, okay? You don’t need to explain this on live T.V.”
Knowing he’s only trying to make sure nothing of what you say can be interpreted wrongly later by media, you nod as he sighs in relief with an uneasy smile.
“I think this next question is our last one,” he announces, his smile morphing back into that familiar cheshire grin, the one that always brightens your day. You think he’s doing it in an attempt to lighten the mood, or maybe he just naturally makes you happy.
Yaku picks up the final question card and flips it over, reading it over with a calm smile, “What have you enjoyed most about being engaged to me?” His voice is gentle as he looks up to you, placing the card down on his pile.
“Well, love?” He encourages you, knowing he doesn’t want to make you uncomfortable he gives you the choice, “Do you want to answer, or take a drink?”
You’d be a fool to drink at this question, there isn’t anything to drink for here but there’s just so much about being engaged to Yaku that you love that you can’t quite find the words for it. And while the majority of your engagement has been spent with Yaku being away in Russia, it doesn’t mean you enjoy it any less than if he were with you in Japan.
“… I enjoy knowing you will always be with me,” you begin to speak slowly, making sure your words are clear and concise while twirling your empty shot glass in hand absentmindedly.
Trying to fit all you want to say to your fiancé in a few words is tough, but you manage to shorten it enouhh to say all you want to tell him. “Because even while you’re playing overseas, I know you will always come back home to me.”
Yaku’s face unexpectedly heats up at your words, the apples of his cheeks turning bright red as his lips form into a shy and nervous grin, one isn’t anything like the mischievous and playful personality you’re accustomed to seeing while with him.
“I… I love you, sweetheart.” He manages to speak after some time, loosening the collar of his dress shirt nervously, but the smile on his face never falters. “I always have and always will.”
He extends his hand out to you, motioning for you to give him your shot glass. You hand it to him and he pours out some Vodka, sliding it back over to you once full before filling his own.
“Yes, honey,” he whispers unconsciously while pouring his alcohol, and it’s the happiest you’ve seen him all day. From his flushed complexion, dopey smile and euphoric demeanour, he appears to be glowing. Or maybe it’s the blaring lights behind him that are playing tricks on you.
Your fiancé has never looked so sure of himself until this moment, Yaku’s eyes never straying from yours as he raises his shot glass, breaking into his biggest smile yet.
“I will always come back home to you. No matter how long we are apart for,” and to that, you both cheer, clinking your glasses as you toast to your engagement.
Downing the alcohol in unison, the bitter sting of the Vodka attacks your throats relentlessly, but neither you or Yaku care about that in this moment or the next.
The world’s most intense Vodka brewed directly in the heart of Moscow, Russia could never be so strong as to have an effect on either of you when you’re in the presence of each other. You’re certain that Yaku would drown himself in the harshest of Vodka’s if it meant it was all for you.
A little Vodka is nothing compared to what he’d go through for you.
The way Yaku’s entire demeanour changes when with you, the largest of smiles etched onto his face for a side he only shows while you’re with him here, in Japan.
Remaining wholely committed to you even while seperated by land and sea is all a true testament to your relationship, and it puts your heart at ease.
Yaku may not always be at home; but Yaku knows that home is with you, and he knows he’ll always be with you in due time.
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KIYOOMI SAKUSA.
“Oh, he’s a lightweight,” you tell the film crew who are adjusting their camera stands nearby as Kiyoomi pulls out the chair at the table for you to sit at, giggling when you hear the faintest muffled groan come from underneath his face mask.
Sitting atop the table is a bottle of Scotch, the deck of question cards and two shot glasses on it’s sanitized surface as per request by your fiancé.
“This’ll be so easy for me.”
“As if,” Kiyoomi scoffs, taking his own seat across from you and scooching his chair forward, “I’ll beat you and then have to hear you drunkenly cry about it back home later for the next several hours.”
“Nope,” you declare mischievously, folding your arms over the table and laying your head in them while looking up at your fiancé, “Hey, did you know Atsumu told me you’re an emotional drunk?”
You can see Kiyoomi’s eyes twitch underneath his thick black locs, hand reaching to grip his hair in annoyance. “That fucking—”
The director interrupts him unexpectedly when he calls to the rest of the crew in the studio for everyone to take their places behind the cameras, Kiyoomi sighs deeply as his shoulders relax and he leans back in his chair waiting for the broadcast to begin.
“I’m Kiyoomi Sakusa,” he states to the viewers plainly, barely acknowledging the cameras pointed straight at his face when he motions to you, “And this is my fiancée of almost a year.”
You can hear the way his voice softens lightly when referring to you as his fiancée.
“We’ve been together for four years now,” You welcome the viewers much more warmly than your fiancé does, announcing eagerly, “Engaged for eleven months, and we’re playing truth or drink!”
Again, you’re a lot more excited than Kiyoomi is when the director asks, “You guys okay to start playing?” but he agrees to it nonetheless, the subtle nod of his head doesn’t go unnoticed by you.
Kiyoomi grabs the stack of cards full of questions and shuffles the deck around a bit, when asked by the director why he did so he answers, “So if anyone planted any weird questions at the top of the pile for her they’re pushed to the bottom.”
After reorganizing the cards, Kiyoomi hands the stack to you, letting you have first pick of the game. You try to argue, but he doesn’t listen.
“Ladies go first,” he says, expectantly waiting for you to start.
You take the first card of the newly shuffled deck and begin to read it for your fiancé, “Favourite memory of us, pre-engagement or post-engagement?”
Kiyoomi taps his empty glass against the mahogany of the table repeatedly for a brief moment, thinking it over before letting out a deep sigh-turned groan, reaching over and pouring out some Scotch for himself as you sit back in stunned shock at his actions.
“Wait, what—”
“Don’t question me,” he rasps, lowering his face mask and downing his shot with ease, there’s hints of floral notes in the Scotch he can taste.
He pulls his mask back up seconds later and looks up at you, you swear you can see a smirk forming under his mask from the way his eyes lift in amusement afterwards, causing your cheeks to heat up at what he could’ve been thinking about that he had to take a shot to get out of saying it.
Finishing off his Scotch, your fiancé takes both the top card off the deck and his empty shot glass before reading aloud his first question for you.
“What was your first impression of me when we met?” Kiyoomi reads monotonously, his stare hardens when he notices you jokingly reaching for your shot glass, tossing the card over to your side with a groan.
“Really?” He huffs, arms crossed over his chest and glaring halfheartedly at your tease. “Didn’t Motoya say you like… hated me at first or something?”
“I didn’t hate you,” you giggle, pouring the Scotch into your glass while avoiding your fiancé’s gaze, “I just.. am a little thirsty right now.”
“Haha,” Kiyoomi laughs dryly, watching as you down your shot quickly, the citrusy notes in the Scotch make it pleasant to drink. “You’re soo funny, dear. Must be really thirsty today.”
“I am,” you wink, placing your glass back down on the table before taking the next card off the pile.
“What is the most embarrassing nickname for me you have in mind?” Kiyoomi asks, and you snort.
“It’s only embarrassing because Atsumu came up with it…” you turn to the cameras to whisper to the viewers, facing your fiancé who’s giving you a skeptic look that soon turns into existential dread when you begin to snicker.
He groans, “I swear to god if it’s Omi-Omi—”
“It’s Omi-Omi.”
You can practically feel the annoyance radiating off of Kiyoomi while you bat your eyelashes innocently at him, playful shrug of your shoulders as you pull the cards back over to your side, taking the next card off the deck while your fiancé whispers something about killing Atsumu at the next practice from across the table.
“What colour or colours are your favorite on me?” You look up at the director almost immediately before Kiyoomi can even open his mouth, “Can I just say it— Because I know.”
The director nods, “He told me once it was black and gold,” Kiyoomi mumbles something incoherent under his breath, whatever he’s saying being muffled by his nask as he hides his face away from the cameras, the camera crew exchange a look amongst themselves.
“Aren’t those the colours of the MSBY Black Jackals?” One of the crew members mentions offhandedly and you smirk, looking over to your flustered fiancé with the most shit-eating grin you can muster, “Yes, yes they are.”
“Should’ve just let me answer instead,” he mutters while pulling out the next card from the deck to move the game along, coughing as his face slowly returns to it’s natural colour.
He chuckles when he reads it over, “How would you spend an entire week without me?” he turns to the cameras with his own smug face, placing the card down on the table. “She doesn’t.”
“I can,” you interject and he gives you a deadpan stare, “Yeah, can. Doesn’t mean you do, though.”
“Anyways,” you swerve back to your answer, taking the card from his side and reading it over yourself.
“I would have a very relaxing week without you, consisting mostly of singing and dancing in our empty kitchen without you to judge me.”
“I don’t judge you.”
“Yes you do.”
“Nope.”
You two could probably have this back and fourth for hours on end but you stop when you catch the director’s eye, one of his assistants motions to you hurriedly that it’s nearly time to end the broadcast.
With that in mind, you pick up the last question card, flipping it over and reading it for Kiyoomi.
“What’s one thing you’d like to tell me at the alter if you couldn’t say anything else.”
“That I love you,” Kiyoomi says almost immediately, tracing the rim of his shot glass with his ring finger delicately, you can hear the gentleness in his voice when he speaks. “And that I hope you’ll always be my lover, whatever that means for us in the future.”
“That’s more than one thing, Kiyo.”
“I don’t care.”
You scoff playfully, tossing the card aside and pouring out two shots of Scotch for you and your fiancé. Whilst handing him his glass your rings bump together momentarily, the clinking of the diamonds makes the two of you smile, though Kiyoomi’s is hidden underneath his mask.
“Cheers, my dear,” he mutters softly, lowering his mask again to drink and allowing you to finally see the beautiful smile he hides underneath, usually reserved only for you.
“Cheers, Kiyo,” and you two drink, the Scotch tastes lovely and refined on both of your tongues when it runs down your throats with ease.
It’s light and sophisticated, and the flavour profile fits Kiyoomi so well. You consider telling him that, but refrain because you think he won’t understand what you mean; not knowing he’s thinking the exact same about you.
Kiyoomi thinks you two may be a match made in heaven, if such a thing exists then it perfectly encapsulates the two of you.
As the cameras cut and several crew members rush around the studio, Kiyoomi doesn’t notice any of that in this moment— his gaze continues to be locked onto you wholly; lovingly enraptured by the beautiful image of you across from him that he hopes will be burned into the back of his head like the taste of this Scotch, but for many years to come and not just a mere few hours.
Kiyoomi can drink Scotch at any time he pleases, but being married to you is something he is excited for and craves everyday of his life as the days on the calender tick down to your wedding, it keeps him motivated to continue each day if he knows it’s just one day closer to a life with you, one where he knows you will be with him every day going forward.
The day you two will finally be united as one. Kiyoomi can’t wait for that morning to come, when night falls and after the ceremony is done he can finally refer to you as his wife and not just his fiancée.
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TOBIO KAGEYAMA.
Tobio gulps upon seeing the Sake being poured into his shot glass by the NHK staff member, being handed the alcohol before they pour out another shot for you, to which you graciously accept with a smile and nod of your head.
“Uhh…” His piercing gaze reaches across to you across the table, nervously fiddling with the glass in hand as he twirls it inbetween his fingers, “I don’t, really hold alcohol well, love..”
“Really?” You stare at him blankly, squinting down at the alcohol in your own shot, “what do you drink in Italy then, Tobio?”
“Limoncello,” he sighs, “but it’s supposed to be sipped slowly, not downed like shots usually are.” He makes a face as the thought of attempting to drink Limoncello like shots ripples through his mind, it would most definitely not end well for him.
You chuckle and give him a reassuring smile, placing your hand over his gently. The diamond on his ring is cool to the touch when you run your thumb over it, with sharp and well defined cut corners. “You’ll be fine, Tobio.”
He nods unsurely but allows the NHK camera crew to do their final run through, making sure everything is in order before the cameras begin to roll and the director is motioning for you both to recite your lines.
Your fiancé’s voice is a little strained, a faint stutter can be heard as he speaks slowly, “I’m… Tobio Kageyama,” he manages to say before craning his head to his left, across the table.
“And I’m her fiancé,” his eyes shift towards you as you give the cameras a polite wave, “We’re playing… truth or drink.”
“We’ve been together for five years,” You excitedly tell the viewers, holding up your ring finger to show off the dazzling diamond atop it, “And engaged for two.”
The director asks from out of frame, “Why have you two been engaged for so long?” A question that most viewers are probably wanting to know, Tobio answers it for you.
“I wanted to marry her sooner,” he timidly admits, looking down at his lap to avoid the harsh glares of the camera lenses, “But with me playing in Ali Roma, it’s hard to plan things out, I guess.”
You nod, “Besides,” you chime in giddily, taking over for him, “It’s fun to be in this little engaged stage for a long time, makes everyday that bit more exciting.”
You ramble on about how fun it is to call Tobio during his off days; calling him at three in the morning in Japan while in Italy it’s 7PM to tell him about a cute floral arrangement you saw earlier that day while shopping that you’d love to have at your wedding.
Facetiming him in the dark of the night, wrapped in blankets and wearing his highschool volleyball jersey to ask him what kind of food from Italy he wants to incorporate into the wedding menu, and texting him photos of different style of wedding dresses you’re considering wearing on your big day while getting out of the shower.
You unintentionally forget about your jittery mess of a fiancé while you speak, beaming as bright as the glowering studio lights as Tobio looks at you amazed.
Tobio’s nervousness slowly fades when he sees the ring on your finger and just how happy you are to be engaged to him. It’s always been a worry of his that you hate the long wait to get married to him, that playing overseas would hurt your relationship because of long he is away from home at times.
But your gleeful joy in telling thousands of viewers in real time that you love just being engaged to him for two years; that you don’t mind it at all, brings some peace of mind to his fragile heart.
“Are you two ready to play?”
Knuckles slowly unclenching as he takes a deep breath, he nods his head to the director, indicating the start of the game. He starts first, picking up the first card from the pile.
“What is the most awkward date we’ve ever been on?” Tobio’s face drops immediately upon reading, turning the card face down on the table and turning to the director, “Can I start over? Or make her drink?”
“It’s her choice if she wants to answer or drink.” The director answers.
Tobio turns to you hastily, eyes practically pleading with you not to say what you have on your mind, he’s already inside your mind and fears for what you could potentially reveal on national television, causing you to erupt in a fit of giggles as you reach for the Sake.
“Fine, fine. I won’t say, Tobio.” You’ve never seen your fiancé so relieved, almost seeing the metaphorical weight lifting off his shoulders with your own eyes when you take the shot.
The Sake is sweet, like sticky rice. It’s feels cool when it hits the back of your tongue and nice to drink, reminding you of the Italian sweets Tobio would send you from Italy. Noting that they’d pair nicely with Sake, you consider getting Tobio to send you more of them in the mail soon.
“You owe me for that one, Tobio,” you chuckle after finishing your shot, “Whatever the next question is you have to answer it.” He groans in protest but agrees after some convincing as you reach for the question pile and grab your first question for him.
“Have you kept a secret hobby or interest hidden from me?”
Shockingly, Tobio nods his head and unexpectedly calm about the question he was supposedly ‘forced’ to answer, “I got into gardening when I first came to Italy.”
“You what?” You utter, delightfully surprised at this revelation, “What plants do you take care of in Italy?”
“I have a few hanging Boston Fern and Ivy in some pots around my apartment…” Tobio tells you, adverting his gaze from your eyes the more your smile grows towards him. “I didn’t mean to keep them from you, I just… forgot to mention it everytime we call.”
“Tobio…” You laugh at how empty headed your fiancé can be at times, sometimes you think he’d forget his head if it weren’t secured to his body. “We call almost every day!”
“Yeah, but you usually call me late at night!” He defends himself, “I don’t normally leave my room that late at night, so you never see them!”
You shake your head in disbelief at this, faux disappointment at your fiancé for keeping this interest of his hidden for so long, “When I visit you in Rome, you have to show me these plants, deal?”
He nods in approval at that arrangement, a small smile creeping onto his face as he takes the next card off the deck, “Have you pretended to like a gift I gave you when you actually didn’t?”
You consider reaching for the Sake but reel your hand back at the last second, deciding to tell him straight up.
“Yeah, the lingerie you sent me a few months ago.”
“You didn’t like it?”
Tobio’s mouth hangs open, visibly swallowing his shame away as he sets the question card down on the table, a hand running through his hair in deep thought.
“Okay well, didn’t like isn’t the right word per se—”
“Was it the style?” Tobio begins interrogating you sternly, brows furrowed and that determined look in his eyes you’re so familiar with while watching his volleyball matches.
“Was it the colour, or was it too flimsy? I tried going to a new store that time, I knew I should’ve just stuck to the other one—”
“Tobio!”
He’s immediately brought out of his thoughts by your cackles, blinking as he’s focused on your laughing figure in front of him. His cheeks are tinted a dark shade of red, thinking he’s said something embarrassing when he whispers a low, “Yes, love?”
Through fits of giggles and laughter, you barely manage to sputter out, “It was just the wrong size, babe!”
Tobio’s eyes widen significantly at the reveal, looking down at his hands where his engagement ring sits comfortably in his ring finger, feeling his body shrink in on itself further into his seat while you’re howling across from him.
If you were seated beside each other he’s sure you’d be slapping his arm too for good measure.
“C-can we move onto the next question…” He mumbles just above the microphone strapped to his dress shirt’s minimum level to pick up sounds. If his old highschool teammates were here— if Hinata were here, god, he’d never hear the end of it. “Please?”
Finally settling down from your giggly high, you vaguely nod, still catching your breath when you reach for the next question card on the pile and flip it over as Tobio tries his best to calm down his reddened face.
“What is the most romantic thing your partner has ever done for you?”
After Tobio’s managed to relax himself, he thinks the question over, chin in hand as his gaze lands directly on the Sake bottle on the table beside him where he gets lost in thought while mulling over the question.
“I think…” he mutters to himself, “When you told me it was okay to go play in Ali Roma, instead of discouraging me to stay in Japan.”
His answer legitimately surprises you, “Is that, really your response, Tobio?”
He nods, hands reaching up to the nape of his neck. “Yeah… I don’t know if romantic is the right word, I guess.“
“But knowing you were there to support me; even if I could tell you were scared for me going overseas, it felt like the most romantic gesture someone could ever do to me.”
Tobio blinks, suddenly remembering his words are being broadcasted on national T.V and coughing awkwardly, “Uh, yeah, that’s my answer.”
He begins to notice the gazes of the rest of the film crew and director that are burning right through him, feeling the colour returning to his cheeks.
Tobio looks over to you anxiously, finding you with the brighest eyes he’s ever seen, he could get lost in them if he stared into them long enough. You purse your lips for a moment, before a smile blossoms across your face.
“Wow, Tobio,” you breathe out dreamily, “That was… so sweet of you to say,” Tobio has a hard time meeting your gaze, you can tell he’s still feeling anxious so you grab his hand and force him to look you in the eye.
“I will always support you, okay?” You tell him firmly, he’s a bit startled at how forward you’re being but nods before you quickly add, “Even if I don’t like being so far away from you, you don’t need to worry about me. Don’t be so nervous about this, alright?”
Tobio’s lips quiver into a strained frown before he sighs, “It’s not that simple,” you feel his hand give yours a light squeeze for comfort, interlocking his fingers with your own. “I wish I could just… not be so worried for you. But I love you too much for that.”
“Loving me means you understand that no matter what, I am right behind you,” you voice to him directly. “Maybe not physically, but no matter where you go, I will follow eventually.”
Tobio goes silent for a few seconds, even when he knows dozens of people in this studio— hundreds of thousands are watching him live, he’s only looking at you; having eyes only for you. With a shaky nod of his head, he finally manages to crack a smile.
“I understand.”
Releasing your hand from his grip, he pulls his next question for you from the pile, looking far more relaxed than he did at the beginning of your game. He’s comfortable in this stage of your relationship, even if he knows that others think it’s strange— the distance between you two, the long engagement period.
He knows the only opinion that should matter to him—that does matter to him is yours alone.
“When you hear my name in public, what comes to your mind?”
“That you have done another amazing set,” You answer with ease, allowing yourself to feed his ego for once. “Or won another game, who knows at this point? You can do it all.”
Tobio seems satisfied with that answer, even uncharacteristically relishing in your praise. “Ah, I am pretty good at volleyball, aren’t I?”
You lean over the table to punch his shoulder lightly, a teasing grin dances on your lips which matches his own, “Yeah yeah, you’re welcome for being so supportive of my fiancé.”
“Well thank you then, love.”
One of the camera crew’s members motions to the director, indicating it’s almost time to wrap up the broadcast. Feeling at peace, you grab the final card of the question deck, eyes flickering to Tobio as you read.
“Anything else you’d like to say to me about our engagement?”
Tobio takes a deep breath, steadying himself before he speaks. He wants to make sure he tells you everything on his mind, but maybe that will have to wait for another time— a more private time.
One that isn’t being broadcasted on national television. So he’ll settle for the next best course.
“I just wanted to say…” He hesitates for a moment, his mouth opening and closing at times until he can find his bearings. “That being engaged to you has taught me a lot of things.”
You’re about to say something in response until he holds his hand up, indicating he isn’t done yet.
“And… I wouldn’t mind if we stayed like this forever.”
Tobio notices the slight look of confusion in your eyes as he continues, “Wh-what I mean is, uh… even though we aren’t married yet, you make me so happy that I feel like I could be okay with what we have.”
“I still want to marry you!” He blurts out worriedly in an attempt to explain himself, “But knowing you’re not bothered by how long we’re engaged for is enough to reassure me that no matter how long we wait for, I’ll still be as happy as the day we marry.”
Tobio shuts his eyes, burying his head in his hands from sheer embarrassment, “Fuck, that was so stupid sounding-”
“Hey now..” You pry his hands away from his face with a pout, leaning across the table’s surface to cup his cheek, “That wasn’t stupid, that was sweet!”
“Really?” He asks, unsure if he believes you, “I’m not really good with my words, y’know.”
“Well I understood what you meant,” you smile, pressing a kiss to your ring finger and placing it on your fiancé’s lips, “And I feel the same way.”
Tobio’s face erupts into a bright scarlet red as you pour the two of you a shot of Sake each, downing them together with your rings on prominent display for all of Japan to see.
Your fiancé is still quite popular in Japan despite now playing overseas, overhearing the NHK film crew and the thousands of viewers who tuned in were watching his broadcast with you while dying in laughter.
It’s not laughter to mock him however— as he soon finds out when after the cameras cut and he can still hear the staff talking about how adorable he looked during the live special.
And his old highschool friends blowing up his phone, sending him clips of his broadcast with hearts and kissy face emojis, but you swear to him that it’s all well intentioned. Maybe not Tsukishima’s to some extent, but nontheless.
All Tobio knows he can do is sigh, turn his phone off and settle into your arms after everything’s been said and done. His time in Japan is limited after all, he has to fly back to Italy in a few days time.
He knows it hurts to leave you again, and you hate sending him off at the airport. He wishes he could marry you immediately— but there’s still so much to be done until that day can arrive.
Tobio doesn’t know when the lucky day will come when you can instead wear a wedding ring on your finger rather than an engagement ring, but as Tobio has discovered today; the two of you will be okay until then despite it all.
It takes a lot to make Tobio anxious about your engagement, but it also takes a lot to shake the strong foundation the two of you have built with each other over the years.
The two of you have planned your future with each other as the main component of it all in the centre of it for as long as you can remember, and he’s prepared to withstand any obstacles that threaten his happiness with you.
Tobio is at ease knowing you have his back, and he has yours even while separated by thousands of miles of stretching oceans and ground.
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reblogs are appreciated .ᐟ ໒꒰ྀི´ ˘ ` ꒱ྀིა
© property of shoyostar / thomae 2023. all rights reserved.
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waywardangel-wilds · 14 days
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Peeta is always open to drawing or painting anything for Katniss and she's frequently taken him up on it. It's usually not that difficult for him, he loves the chance to paint, to refine his skills. Katniss loves having not only a reminder of certain memories but also a physical representation of Peeta's enduring and almost quiet love for her. And it's easy. Natural. That is until Katniss looks at Peeta one day and asks, "Would you do a self-portrait for me?"
That's hard for him. The sketches are never quite right, the colors are off. Katniss doesn't ever nitpick at his paintings, and she isn't being unkind or anything, but she always looks at the drafts with an uncertain expression only to say, "Somethings not right, Peeta."
Peeta gets frustrated. Why can't he just do this painting? He asks Katniss what is off about the sketches, and it's always a thousand little things. His eyes aren't that severe. He's supposed to have freckles there. His mouth is softer in real life. His hair doesn't curl like that. His expression is off. He can never seem to get it right. What is it about this painting?
They're lying on the couch one day when Katniss says, "Maybe you just can't see yourself the way I do."
That makes him curious. How does she see him? They start trying to figure that out. He says that she should describe his face to him as if he were a plant for the book, and maybe they could arrive somewhere accurate.
Katniss finds it a little funny, even odd, he's himself. He has to be more familiar with his own face than she is, but she humors him. They sit down in his studio together and begin.
It becomes an exercise in getting to know her, somehow, on a level that he hadn't explored before. She spends a long time talking about the shape of his eyes, the fan of his eyelashes, and the color of his irises. Her cheeks stain with embarrassment, and his heart knocks against his ribs, trying to escape, maybe even trying to reach out to her.
She has something to say about details he'd never even thought of before. The angle of his chin, the exact colour of his hair. She has descriptions that don't make much sense to him too. His smile is like spring and his scars are like marigolds. When given time, Katniss ends up arranging a whole bouquet of wildflowers with her descriptions.
He loves her. He already knew that. Heck, people on the other side of the country already knew that, but he'd had no idea, somehow, he still had no idea the depth of Katniss's devotion. It's beautiful and seemingly never-ending and it fills his own heart with joy.
They create the portrait together, after many hours spent alone. It's a painting of his own face, yet, it holds a deep intimacy and he can't seem to look at it without smiling and blushing like a fool. He doesn't think of it as his, even if it's a painting of himself, the painting is wholly Katniss's. He presents it to her when he's finished and Katniss smiles warmly, looking down at it with such affection. She hangs it in the hall, near the bench where she keeps her arrows so she can look at it when she leaves every morning and when she comes back home. That part of the house is very private, he doesn't even really go there that often, so it feels special. To know that Katniss wanted to bring him there with her, in her own way.
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shoomlah · 1 year
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how do you consistently draw the same character without it looking weird or off every different time?? also how do i coordinate faces, i always make the eyes too far apart or too big or too small or make the mouth too close to the nose or chin edge. If you have any advice I'd really appreciate it since it looks like you have your art shit figured out 🙏
Oh man SO so much of it is just practice, and you're not alone! I honestly think everyone struggles with a sort of "generification" of their characters' features the more they draw them, even seasoned professionals. There's a tendency to just sort of average everything out into an unrecognizable mush over time, and it takes a lot of conscious effort to push back against that.
Here are a couple tips and tricks that I've found to be helpful over the years:
Make turnarounds and model sheets. There's a reason animation/game studios do this, and it is because we are all still bad at drawing a consistent face. Despite being gainfully employed. What are we, graphic novelists?? We wish. Anyway it's a great way to familiarize yourself with your character's face from multiple angles, and it gives you a single source of truth to return to anytime you need a refresher:
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Gather real-life reference. Anytime I'm designing a character I'm pulling together a ton of reference of actual people who look, to some degree, like the character in my head. It's always a collection of analogues, never just a single person, but it can be a great cheat sheet for understanding how your character might move, emote, etc:
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Make a 3D model. I know it seems daunting, but with the advent of programs like Blender and Nomad Sculpt it's becoming remarkably more accessible. Heck, even James Gurney was sculpting maquettes out of clay for Dinotopia back in the day! It doesn't have to be particularly detailed—just a sort of proportionate lump will do—but it's another great way to have dynamic reference that you can rotate and light accordingly:
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Practice, practice, practice. Make expression sheets for your character! Either right there on the spot, just start drawin' expressions, or you can slowly collect drawings of your character that you like, as you draw them, and compile them all in one place for your own reference. Need to draw your character's head from a weird angle? Maybe you've already drawn it before and you can copy your own homework! Doesn't count as stealing when the call's coming from inside the house 😎
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I'd love to pretend there's a magical point where you can just immediately rotate your character's head in your brain like some sort of photorealistic apple in a twitter meme, but a lot of the time it's reference, hard work, and whole lotta repetition. 😐👍🏼
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tojipie · 7 months
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shiu x fem!reader x toji
content: (fem reader, heavy smut, soo much praise, filming sex, spitroasting, eiffel tower position, threesome, blowjobs, face fucking, cumming on face, aftercare)
summary: just another day at work ! :) nothing raunchy going on here
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“fuck, that’s perfect,” shiu mumbles, crouching to get a better shot of where you and toji meet. 
the man rutting into you takes the note as a compliment, bucking his hips back to slam to the hilt. the guttural moan he draws out of you is nothing short of sinful, earning you a laugh from the cameraman.
“oh, the guys at home are gonna fucking love that,” he chuckles, standing to grab a shot of you laying face down, ass up on the leather couch.
a calloused hand raises your face to the camera, squeezing your cheeks into a pucker. you smile, taking note of your fucked out demeanor in the camera reflection. 
“feel good, pretty girl?” toji asks, still gripping your face. 
“mmhm,” you groan, making a show of rolling your eyes back into your head. 
the cameraman looks more than pleased, palming himself over his cheap dress pants. 
“such a treat to have in the studio, y’know that?” he wipes a mascara-filled tear while you look up at him for a brief moment. “driving me fucking crazy.”
the incessant pap-pap-pap of toji’s hips against your ass echo among the walls of the small casting room, nearly drowning out the praise with how hard he’s fucking you. still, you smile, letting the suit-clad cameraman brush your hair from your face.
“where’d you learn how to take dick like this, huh?” toji teases, switching his grip from your face to your shoulders. your scene partner uses his newfound leverage to pull you back onto his cock, groaning at the new angle. 
“only like this with you,” you moan, clenching at the sounds of approval both men give you.
“what, you forget about me?” shiu asks, feigning jealousy for the sake of the scene.
toji leans forward, chest-to-back as he whispers something in your ear. hard, deep thrusts slow to a grind as he speaks to you. you nod, giggling at shiu’s pointed look of confusion.
“what’s wrong?” the cameraman mouths, moving to turn the camera off. you beckon him over to the couch instead, jolting from the pick-up of your scene partner’s thrusts.
the two men share a look as you readjust the camera, gauging the shot in the crystalline glint of the lens. perfect, you think. he was going to love this. 
deft hands make haste with his belt, undoing the buckle ever so slowly. the two of you lock eyes for just an instant as his face contorts into a grin, setting the camera on his shoulder to throw his belt off to the side. 
“oh i get love too now?” he teases, unbuttoning his bottoms and letting you get to work. his ironed suit jacket hits the floor, dress shirt half open. 
“you’ve fucked her before genius,” toji adds, slowing the pace of his thrusts to let you work on the cameraman. he was right, off and on camera even.
shiu’s hard, unbearably so when you free him from his boxers and take him into your mouth. you can practically feel how difficult it is for him to not blow his load right then and there, especially after watching you and toji go at it for half an hour with no stimulation of his own.
“hah fuck— she knows what i like, right?” the question is rhetorical, he wants you to take the bait. 
and take the bait you do, pulling off his dick just enough to swirl your tongue around his aching tip.
the noise you earn is more than pornographic, it’s downright sinful, egging you on as you move to take him to the base. 
“you seein’ this?” shiu gasps, panning the camera up to toji who has since stopped fucking you to watch. thick, deft fingers come up to rub at your clit instead, making up for the lost simulation. 
shiu’s free hand reaches down to nestle into your hair, pulling taught. a quick look to make sure the camera lines up is all he gives you before deft hips snap forward, fucking your throat with urgency.
the two men share a look briefly, chuckling as toji finally ramps up the pace again. thick, hot lengths penetrate you from either side, overloading your brain with pleasure. 
“look up at the lens for me baby,” shiu gushes, losing his grip on your hair to cradle your cheek in his palm. you push back on the cock currently pummeling your walls, eagerly groaning for the camera.
“aww there we go, always our favorite star.”
the praise goes right to your head, throat opening up to allow more of his length in. he hisses at the stimulation, grumbling a soft “fuck this,” before setting the camera down on the coffee table in front of the couch. 
“oh, that’s a good fucking shot,” toji comments, pleased at the new camera angle. the thought of the studio’s loyal fanbase getting to watch you get spit-roasted by the hottest business partners in the industry pushes you closer to the edge.
“fuck, there.” shiu groans, pulling himself from your throat with an obscene squelch. a whoop rings out from behind you, no doubt from toji as viscous ropes of cum paint your cheeks— you swear you hear them high-five each other.
“shit, sorry about the mess,” he doesn’t sound sorry at all, tapping the head on your closed lips with a fucked-out smile.
salty cum floods your tastebuds as you work to clean his manhood off, pulling back with an audible pop and a smile. “s’ okay shiu.”
“that’s talent right there,” the camera man comments, clearly pleased with your performance. shiu tucks himself back into his dress pants, quietly motioning for you and toji to switch positions.
the raven-haired man wastes no time lifting you into the air, thick hands situated under your thighs for support.
the position alone might have gotten you close enough to come had he still been inside you. you’re held against his standing body only by the hands under your legs, back-to-chest as you face the camera. 
you hike your legs up, locking eyes with shiu as you’re lowered onto toji’s dick a final time. 
the stretch is absolutely obscene, filling you to the brim over and over again as he thrusts into you.
“perfect, perfect guys,” shiu leans closer to get a better shot of your face. “just like that.”
“you wanna tell everybody at home where you want it?” toji asks, biting your shoulder for good measure.
“inside—please.” you sigh, laughing at the obscene groan that sounds from behind the camera. shiu reaches down to rub your swollen clit for you, pressing a kiss to your temple.
hot seed floods your body a second time, warming you from the inside out. the things toji pants into your ear are obscene, overwhelming your senses while shiu’s hand deals out tiny pats to your clit.
you both sink onto the couch for the final time, the soft leather cushions embracing your tired bodies. shiu approaches with the camera, flipping through a couple of scenes to seek your shared approval.
you sit quietly as you're wiped down with a wet towel, still attached to toji at your most intimate points.
“tired angel? need to wash off?” he asks, maneuvering you on his dick to straddle him.
“yes please,” you mumble happily, resting your head on his shoulder. two sets of hands gently caress your body, wiping the last drops of fluid from your sweaty skin.
“you’re gonna make us all millionaires, i swear,” shiu mumbles, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head before stepping into the bathroom to draw you a bath.
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antonitty · 9 days
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˚ ༘♡ ⋆。˚ Producer Tag ! L.CY
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Synopsis ʚɞ Anton has been struggling to come up with a Producer tag for himself , so he asked you to say his name — you'd gladly help him but what you didn't expect was for him to bend you over his desk and have you moaning his Name
Contains ʚɞ Nsfw, Soft Dom!Anton , Sub!Reader, implied size and strength kink, studio sex , non Idol!Au , Producer!Anton, drabble
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"Moan louder for me...have to make sure that my mic picks up your sweet sounds", Anton whispered , his breath hot against your ear as his chest pressed against your back. Your shirt pulled up to your waist , your panties pulled to the side as his cock stretched your poor little hole out — pushing inch after inch into your warm pussy. "You look so cute in my shirts love..", he kissed the shell of your ear , big hands holding your hips firmly as he slowly thrusted his cock in and out of you.
Your moans were muffled as you tried to keep quiet despite him telling you to be louder, feeling shy that he wanted you moaning his name as his producer tag. "This won't do..", Anton huffed , momentarily stopping his hips from moving as he reached a hand out , moving his keyboard to the side and pushing his mic closer to the monitor — his other hand resting on your shoulder blade before he pushed you down. Your chest was pressed against the wooden desk , your back arched — his right arm curling around your waist as he lifted you up a little with his strength. The change of the angle made his cock slip so much deeper into you , the bulbous head kissing your cervix with each thrust.
"Just like that .... you sound so sweet..", Anton murmured , making sure to keep his voice quiet so only your moaning was being picked up by his mic , almost pornoghrapic moans of his name spilling past your lips. The pleasure was dizzying , you weren't even able to focus with the way his cock drilled into you — his thrusts almost merciless.
"That's a good girl.."
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pinkflower2003 · 10 days
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hii i was wondering if you could perhaps do a story on max x y/n. Y/n is a professional chef and sometimes she likes to live stream on instagram -LIKE FLORENCE PUGHS COOKING WITH FLO— in the the back the fans hear max screaming cus he’s on the sim or just playing games with his online team :)
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Racing Hearts and Risotto Dreams - Max Verstappen x Reader
Hi! Thank you so much for your submission!! So i've tried my best on this one - i'm honestly so bad at cooking so if this is wrong blame my food tech teacher - I hope this is okay!<3
Send in your submissions!
Masterlist
Y/N stood in the bright, spacious kitchen, the stainless-steel countertops gleaming under the studio lights. A row of neatly organized spices and ingredients lined the shelves behind her, and the air was filled with the delicious aroma of a simmering sauce. The camera was positioned perfectly to capture her every move, and her followers eagerly awaited the start of her Instagram Live cooking session.
With a warm smile, Y/N adjusted the angle of her phone, making sure the view was perfect. “Hi, everyone!” she greeted her audience, her voice full of enthusiasm. “Welcome back to Cooking with Y/N! Today, we’re making a classic Italian dish—risotto alla Milanese. It’s one of my favorites and I can’t wait to share it with you!”
As she began to explain the steps, her hands moved deftly, demonstrating the precise technique required to achieve the perfect creamy texture. The comments started pouring in, fans asking questions and complimenting her on her skills. Y/N loved this interaction; it was like having a big, supportive family cheering her on.
However, in the background, there was another layer of noise. The unmistakable sound of engines roaring and tires screeching filled the air, along with occasional bursts of laughter and shouts. Y/N glanced over her shoulder, her smile widening as she spotted Max Verstappen, her boyfriend and current Formula 1 World Champion, fully immersed in his racing simulator.
Max was in the middle of an intense online race with his fellow drivers, Lando Norris and Charles Leclerc. The three of them were a formidable trio, known not just for their skills on the actual track but also for their hilarious and competitive online gaming sessions. Today was no exception.
“Max, you’re so loud!” Y/N called out, laughing softly. She turned back to the camera. “Sorry, everyone, Max is having one of his usual battles with Lando and Charles. I hope you don’t mind the background noise!”
The comments section exploded with excitement at the mention of Max and the other F1 drivers. Fans loved getting these little glimpses into their lives, the mix of professional dedication and everyday fun.
“Who’s winning?” a fan asked.
Y/N leaned towards the camera, pretending to whisper conspiratorially. “I think it’s a close call, but Max seems pretty determined today. Let’s hope he doesn’t crash into Lando again!”
As if on cue, Max’s voice boomed from the other room. “Lando, you can’t just cut across like that! What are you doing, mate?”
Y/N shook her head, chuckling. “See what I mean? It’s like this all the time. But let’s get back to our risotto. The key is to keep stirring and adding the broth gradually. You want it to be creamy but not too thick.”
She continued with her cooking demonstration, occasionally glancing over at Max’s direction. The sounds of their playful banter provided a lively backdrop to her session, making it all the more entertaining for her viewers. The combination of professional cooking tips and the casual, personal atmosphere made her streams unique.
“Y/N, ask Max who’s winning!” another comment popped up.
With an amused sigh, Y/N called out, “Max, the viewers want to know who’s winning right now!”
There was a moment of silence, then Max’s head peeked into the kitchen, his face lit up with a competitive grin. “Well, obviously me! Although Lando’s trying his best to sabotage me. Typical, right?”
Y/N rolled her eyes playfully. “Alright, back to my risotto. You boys play nice.”
Max gave her a wink before disappearing back to his racing rig. The interactions were spontaneous and natural, reflecting the comfortable dynamic they shared.
As Y/N added the final touches to the dish, stirring in a generous handful of grated Parmesan cheese, she talked her viewers through the final steps. “And there you have it, risotto alla Milanese! Perfect for a cosy dinner. I hope you all try this recipe at home.”
Just as she was about to sign off, a loud cheer erupted from the other room. “Yes! Winner!” Max’s triumphant shout echoed through the apartment, followed by groans from Lando and Charles.
“Looks like Max won,” Y/N said, shaking her head with a smile. “Again. Thank you all so much for joining me today. Don’t forget to tag me in your posts if you try the recipe. See you next time!”
She ended the live stream and began tidying up the kitchen, humming softly to herself. A few moments later, Max walked in, his hair slightly tousled from the headset, and a victorious gleam in his eyes.
“I won, did you hear schat?” he said, wrapping his arms around Y/N from behind and resting his chin on her shoulder.
“I did. Congrats, champ,” she replied, leaning into his embrace. “But I think my risotto might just be the real winner today.”
Max chuckled, pressing a kiss to her cheek. “It smells amazing. Can I have some?”
“Of course,” Y/N said, turning to face him. “I made plenty. And maybe you can join me on my next live stream as a guest chef?”
Max’s eyes twinkled with mischief. “As long as I don’t have to cook anything too complicated. I’m more of a taste-tester.”
“Deal,” Y/N laughed. “Now, let’s eat before it gets cold.”
They sat down at the kitchen island, enjoying the delicious meal and the comfortable, easy conversation. Despite their busy schedules and demanding careers, moments like these were precious. They were a perfect blend of passion and playfulness, support and competition.
They talked about Max’s latest race strategies, Y/N’s upcoming culinary projects, and plans for their next holiday together. The sounds of the virtual race still echoed faintly in the background, a reminder of the high-octane world they were both a part of. Yet, in this cozy kitchen, it was just the two of them, sharing a meal and making memories.
Later that evening, after the dishes were done and the kitchen was back in order, they settled on the couch, a comfortable silence enveloping them. Max scrolled through his phone, checking the highlights from their race, while Y/N flipped through a cookbook, jotting down ideas for her next live stream.
“Hey, Y/N,” Max said, breaking the silence. “You know, the fans really love it when you join my streams too. Maybe we should do a combined one sometime. Racing and cooking—what do you think?”
Y/N looked up, considering the idea. “That could be fun. You teach me some racing tips, and I’ll teach you some cooking tricks. Deal?”
“Deal,” Max agreed, leaning in for a kiss. “You’ve got yourself a co-host.”
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wonuvs · 2 months
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"its my thigh or nothing, i m not helping you get off" with SKZ chan, him guiding you on his thigh, moving your hips and whispering in your ears, growling and groaning cause he knows how much like to hear him. him tightening his thigh and js everything about and thigh riding AGFHDJDJ
MINORS PISS OFF. tags: chan x afab!reader + thigh riding, orgasm denial, dumbification, edging
“it's my thigh or nothing, I'm not helping you get off.”
his words echo in your head, alongside his name and the sound of his groans and growls and... yeah, well, that's pretty much it. you're already fucked out in the best way possible.
droplets of sweat slowly drip down your forehead with your every shakey moan, and chan shivers at how he can practically feel your pussy clench and pulse against his thigh, its vibrations easily reaching his strained, stiff cock, begging to be freed and buried in your warmth, to pound and rearrange your insides like you're both used to, to fill you up and bring you to heaven—but the ego boost he's getting from seeing your eyes glaze over with tears, from the feeling of your drooling cunt making a mess on his thigh just from a little bit of grinding is mindblowing.
chan relishes in your stuttered sounds, in the way you gasp like a fish out of water as your fists ball his black t-shirt sticking to him like a second skin, in the way your poor, poor clit drags over your ruined cotton panties and the rough fabric of his jeans, making you dizzy with pleasure, making you spout out nonesense, “cha—ah... nnie, I- I am... I-- uhm, I thin-nk? I,” you shake your head, trying so so hard to collect your thoughts and say a coherent sentence, but with your nub being constantly stimulated, with your hips still being rocked back and forth, with his mouth letting out the filthiest of groans and words right into your ear, all that come out are breaths and gasps, and suddenly, your bottom lip starts to tremble, frustrated with yourself.
his heart melts at your adorable face, and a fake pout makes its way on his face, his mouth now sucking on your earlobe. “what, pretty? too fucked out to speak?” he grunts, squeezing your hips, putting more pressure on them before flexing his thigh repeatedly. a high-pitched moan of yours fills his studio, and he smirks, looking down at his soaked gray sweatpants and your underwear sticking to your cunt, the fabric now translucent. “'boutta cum?”
you whimper and nod, tears running down your cheeks when he angles your hips so your throbbing clit can grind just right on the flexed muscle of his thigh. “p-please! I, I've been s' go-”
“but you look so pretty like this... hold it for me a little more, will you?”
taglist: @maximumkillshot @caitlyn98s @woogigi @starsandrqindrops @extrhotjne
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jyoongim · 3 months
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ok but what about alastor with a reader like angel dust in the sense trapped and abused by valentino maybe they have a different sort of personality than angel dust but in a similar situation how would he react to seeing his s/o in that sort of a situation maybe they have to interact with valentino infront of him.
thoughts?
warnings: fluff????sexual trauma! mention of SA! Val is a perverted dick! Fem!reader, Alastor not letting shit slide but caring about your wellbeing first!
Think of this as an extension of the Alastor x retired!pornstar reader fic!
You and Angel took a beauty day from all the hustle and bustle of the hotel. The day was filled with spa appointments and shopping.
Angel laughed as you asked his opinion on lingerie that Alastor would like, blushing when he teased about the Overlord having the hots for you. You were having a great time; until Angel’s phone started blowing up.
Valentino.
The perverted bug was calling Angel in for a shoot and on his day off.
You grimaced, but you understood. 
Valentino didn't understand the word ‘No’.
Thats why you stayed away from the industry.
Consent did not matter. At least to Val. 
You shuddered at the unpleasant memories.
Angel apologized,  but you shook you head, looping your arm through his to walk him to the studio. You at least wanted to see him off.
You felt your ears flatten as you entered the studio, your palms getting sweaty as the two attendants opened the double doors to Val’s studio.
”Annnngeelll baby I missed you!” Val exclaimed, taking a puff of his cigarette as he approached the two of you.
His red eyes shifted to you, a purr rumbling through his chest
”ooooh Angel you didnt say you were bringing an absolute gem!” His large hand wrapped around your unwilling hand, bringing it to his lips and instead of kissing it…Val licked up your arm.
You immediately recoiled, giving a nervous smile “pleasure as always Val,  but I fear that I am not here for any…ugh entertaining purposes, just seeing Angel off before heading home”
Home.
That’s right home.
 You considered the hotel home.
Everyone was so nice and no one judged you for your past.
You didnt have to put on a persona for a camera and could just be yourself. You could laugh and cry and be comforted for it.
And you were treated like a person. By an evil Overlord at that.
Val chuckled darkly, looking you up and down “oooh really? Because Angel could use a few pointers, you might dress differently but you can’t fool me cara…” A slight burning sensation had you wince a bit, clutching your belly.
cursed womb mark. Damn you Valentino.
 “You’re nothing but a little cumslut” Val leaned down to whisper in your ear.
You narrowed your eyes, glaring up at him. Angel gave a nervous laugh to ease the tension “Why don’t you stay to watch one shoot eh? I don’t mind being criticized by a true professional” he tugged you under his arm, away from Val and to give you a wink.
You sighed “one shoot. Ill stay to watch one shoot”
Val grinned as he whisked you to sit in a director chair as he handed you the script.
You made a face of disgust as you looked over the script. Rough, demeaning sex and no buildup at all.
You shuddered. You were happy to have left all this behind but you knew everyone wasn’t lucky.
”ACTION SLUTS!” Val shouted to begin the scene.
Your eyes roamed about the scene and you felt sweaty.
Uncomfortable and anxiety. These were emotions you usually had when you were around Val, but they normally ran this rapid when you were in a shoot yourself.
But you weren’t…so why were you so nervous?
”What do you think about that angle?”
”You could have made that work”
”None of them are gonna reach your level!”
”Ugh they can’t even get that right!”
You barely listened to Val’s rambling until your lower belly burned, you clenched your teeth, eyes looking over at the smug pimp.
A smile was on his face, but it didn’t match his words.
”Why don’t you be a doll and show ‘em how its done babygirl” he tilted his head smiling knowingly.
It was like a light switch went off.
A warm feeling spread throughout your body and you found yourself moving towards the scene.
The script was rather raunchy;  ‘victim blindfolded and bound taken advantage of by gang’
”watch and learn” Valentino purred watching as a demon blindfolded you and settled you into a low arch.
You were surrounded. The warmth and heavy scents surrounded you as the demons touched and probed at you.
A whimper escaped your throat as a tongue licked at your cunt, dipping into you to give you some prep.
No No No No No No NO! You were screaming in your head as several cocks entered you.
Your lips parted to scream but a cock was shoved down your throat, a moan erupting from the demon who thrusted into your mouth.
Your body burned as you were worked into an orgasm. You kicked and thrashed to get the demons off of you.
They couldn’t cum in you, they just couldn’t.
Alastor…
Tears streamed down your face as you thought of the red demon.
How would be react when he found you smelling like other demons?
You had given up this lifestyle. You weren’t a whore who needed to flaunt her pussy to the world for a quick buck.
”G-get off-” you tried to say through the haze.
Your blindfold fell as you were pounded into, your eyes frantically meeting Val’s; a smirk was on his lips as he puffed his cigarette 
Go on and cum baby he mouthed
No! Nonononono!
Your body tensed as you cummed around a stranger’s dick.
A sob escaped you as the demon groaned before spilling his cum into you, the others cumming on your body.
Long arms wrapped around you, pulling you off the bed and you sobbed into a fuzzy chest.
”What the hell Val!” Angel hissed, wrapping a robe around you.
The tall demon snapped his finger and your womb mark ceased burning. “I’m sure the public would love to see such a diamond return to the spotlight. After all, she’s my best investment”
He looked over you, clicking his tongue and waving the two of you off as he shouted out commands for the next scene.
”I can’t believe that asshole did that to you. Oh toots don’t worry well get you cleaned up and good as new once we get to the hotel” Angel tried to reassure you.
You immediately ran to your room, getting in the bath and scrubbing at your skin.
Tears ran down your face as you scrubbed. You wanted the scent and feeling of those demons off you.
Your skin was red and you didn’t even realize how hard you were scrubbing until a clawed hand grabbed the sponge.
”Darlin scrub any harder and your skin will be raw” a radio-filtered voice chirped.
You jerked away, eyes wide as you watch Alastor drain the tub.
”now what’s got you so raddled?” He tilted his head in question.
Your lip quivered, head down, unable to meet his eyes.
A hand gently cupped your chin to make you look at him. Alastor had a very stern look on his face, despite the smile on his face.
”I-I-I’m sorry Al!” You bursted into sobs as you wrapped your wet arms around his neck.
He patted your back to soothe you, waiting for you to calm down so you could tell him what disturbed you so much.
”I was out with Angel and he was called to the studio a-and Val h-he h-he…I did something I vowed to never do I’m sorry I’m so sorry” you sobbed.
Alastor stiffened.
He knew what your occupation was before you came to the hotel. You had given that up to better yourself.
He never once thought that you would be dragged back to be a former version of yourself.
He could smell the scents of others on you, no amount of soap and fragrance could hide the fact he knew what had transpired.
”Oh my dear it’s alright” he cooed,pulling you to stand. To assess the damage that had been done.
Claw marks and an intricate mark on your lower belly.
He grimaced.
But he had more important matters to attend to, you.
He cautiously lathered you in lotions, put ointments on your wounds and dressed you for bed.
”Don’t worry your pretty head my dear, I don’t think of you any less. I know you wouldn’t have done something like that on your own free will” he hummed tucking you in, pressing a reassuring kiss to your forehead.
He waited until you fell asleep to slip away and once your bedroom door closed behind him, his aura darkened.
The hallways lights flickered and the building shook as his shadow angrily ripped at the wallpaper and figurines.
He made his way to his radio tower and smiled wickedly.
He wouldn’t let this offense go unnoticed. Oh no no one dared to lay a hand on his darlin and get away with it.
Oh he was going to make the Vees live a fucking nightmare
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