calliaeeee
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Oscar was warned that social media can be a dangerous place for Formula One drivers because of all the hate comments, but he wasn’t warned about how easy it is to get addicted to scrolling through a pretty boy’s profile full of photos and short videos of his back, thighs, ass, and dick.
or
Lando's eyes were still at the chat, looking for that one username that always showed up next to the big amount of money.
And there he was.
Pastryjack.
or Oscar has favourite OnlyFans streamer named Lan and Lando has favourite subscriber named Jack.
Bookmarked by calliaeeee
08 Jun 2026
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Jos Verstappen sends Max, heir to the Dutch mafia, to infiltrate and take down a club in Monaco. A club owned by none other than the Dutch's biggest rival, Charles Leclerc, leader of the Monégasque mafia.
It was never going to be easy.
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Bookmarked by calliaeeee
05 Jun 2026
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"Are you sure you’re not gay?" Oscar asked again.
Lando nodded immediately. "One hundred percent."
"Good," Oscar said simply. "Then I can prove you’re wrong."
"You can’t," he said, but there was a slight hesitation in his voice this time.
"I’m gonna need you to open your mouth," Oscar said,
"I’m not going to do much," he continued, still calm.
"I’ll just keep my fingers in your mouth for a bit. That shouldn’t be a problem, right? Since you’re straight.""Wh—what?" Lando said, staring at him in disbelief.
"It’s simple," Oscar said. "I’m not even touching you anywhere else. Just my fingers. Are you scared you’ll react to that?" he asked, raising an eyebrow slightly.
Bookmarked by calliaeeee
02 Jun 2026
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In their carefully negotiated dynamic, Shane is the Master and Ilya is his dog. His thing. His whore. It works because Shane knows where the line is—and Ilya trusts him completely.
Until a phone call changes everything.
Ilya stays exactly where he was told. On his knees. Silent. Waiting.
Five hours later, Shane comes home to find Ilya still there. Still waiting. But not okay.
Five hours can break a lot of things. But some things are worth rebuilding.
Bookmarked by calliaeeee
11 Mar 2026
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“You are a sub.” The Prince stated calmly. He crossed his arms across his chest in something that looked like pride.
Patroclus’ eyes widen. “No! No, no I’m not, your- your highness, your princeliness? No, I’m not, I’m a soldier, you- didn’t you see me yesterday?” He felt lightheaded as he spoke, the words pouring out unprompted, a torrent of water that never slowed to a trickle.
“Stop.”
Patroclus stilled instantly. It wasn’t even a command, and his body reacted immediately. Heat flooded his cheeks, his tongue was caught between his teeth. Even if he wanted to say something, he knew that he couldn’t. His veins were ice, his tongue frozen and useless in his mouth.
“Do not lie to your Prince. You are a sub, yes?” The Prince’s eyes narrowed, and Patroclus shrunk back under his gaze. He nodded in jerky movements. While his mind screamed no, Patroclus was helpless to stop his body.
~-=+*+=-~
Or.. in a world where everyone has a genetic designation, how will Patroclus (a sub) manage to survive his first drop, if not with the help of the crowned Prince of Phthia?
Bookmarked by calliaeeee
16 Jan 2026