#This is actually on the edge of content I like

[trashytracktales]

Hey! Please do a lando x ex!reader. They break up after a lot of arguments due to being away from each other so much and then they meet a few months later and hook up. Like angst in the beginning then lots of smut.

If it's meant to fall apart | LN⁴

💌 REQUESTED by anon ──── I was actually planning to write something similar for so long. Thank you for the request and I hope you like it 🤍

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

𐙚 summary ──── Surprisingly, months apart haven’t dulled the connection between them. After a night of passion and honesty on both sides, maybe there is a future where they can make all the right decisions, after all.

𐙚 pairing ──── Lando Norris x ex!reader

𐙚 rating ──── explicit

𐙚 category ──── F/M

𐙚 warnings ──── +18, mature/sexual content, lots of angst & back-and-forth, fluff & smut, teasing, praising, explicit language, unprotected sex, mention of alcohol and drinking, swearing, not the healthiest relationship I've ever written tbh (the toxicity is implicit tho), overstimulation, pussy-drunk Lando, Max F. & Ethan aka FEEFA cameo.

𐙚 word count ──── 10.6k (Thank you to everyone who voted on this poll I posted the other day, I didn’t expect to see so many 🥺).

𐙚 date ──── Nov. 27, 2024

𐙚 a/n ──── Guys, look. I know it's A LOT 🥴 I kinda let myself run with this one because I haven't posted anything in like a week or so. I still have 2 requests I'm working on, so don't give up on me yet 🤞🏻

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

SHE'S NOT ENTIRELY sure how long they’ve been dancing, but she hasn't finished her drink yet. Time feels like an illusion, blurring the edges of her vision with every new rhythm of the night. For the first time in months, she feels a little lighter, her friends’ energy pulling her out of her own head — and apartment, where she locked herself in after the break-up.

The club is packed tonight, bodies pressed together in a sea of drunken, sweaty chaos. Neon lights bounce off every surface, painting the room in vivid purples, blues, and pinks. It's not usually her style — not anymore — but she figured it won't hurt to let lose for a couple of hours.

It’s only when she steps away from the dance floor, her feet hurting and her head buzzing, that she spots him.

Why tonight, of all nights?

Why here, of all places?

Why him, of all people?

He’s leaning casually against the bar, a glass in hand, chatting with a few familiar faces. Faces that she can't help but miss.

She stopped talking to Max — well, Max stopped talking to her after ending things with Lando, too upset that she toyed with his best friend's heart for ‘no apparent reason’. Their friendship dissolved under pressure, fragile as a cheap plastic cup in the grip of sulfuric acid. But Max wasn't the only one who took it personally. That's why she needed to cut ties with everyone from her past. She needed new friends — her own friends —, she needed a new place and new clothes, and to rebrand herself from scratch. Which she did.

She thought she had made it through, but the past has its twisted ways of coming back when you least expect it.

Now, the sight of him, so vivid and real, makes her chest tighten.

She stops in place, hoping he doesn’t notice her, but then his eyes flick in her direction and, for a brief moment, neither of them blinks, the noise around them fading into a dull murmur.

He straightens slightly, his relaxed posture gone as his brows knit together. There’s something unreadable in his body language — surprise? Excitement? Confusion? Pain? She doesn’t know, but it mirrors the knot twisting in her stomach.

Her friends call out to her, pulling her attention briefly, and when she looks back, he’s still staring. Except now, he’s moving, weaving his way through the crowd toward her.

Oh, hell no.

Her heart starts to race, a mix of adrenaline and something far more complicated than fear, as she rushes to walk away; she's fought for far too long, and now her instinct is to fly as soon as she senses danger.

Unfortunately, she's not quick enough.

“Hey,” says Lando when he gets closer, his voice low but audible over the music.

Hearing him gives her goosebumps, hating the way her body is betraying her. It’s been months since she’s heard his voice, but it still hits her the same way: sharp and unrelenting.

She turns around, forcing a smile, “Hi, Lando,” she manages, her voice steadier than she feels, thinking she should try acting if she makes it out alive from this encounter.

“Can I buy you a drink?” he asks, his tone careful, yet extremely suggestive.

It makes her stomach twist again.

He used that line the very first night they met, his boyish grin lit by the dim, flickering lights of another club, in another city. Potentially another life, she's not sure. She remembers the way he had leaned in, so full of confidence and asked the same exact question with a mischievous glint in his eye.

It feels too deliberate now, too heavy with the weight of their past for her to ignore.

“All set,” she finally says, her voice quieter than she intended, as she raises her half-full glass in her hand. “Thanks.”

For a moment, it feels like they’re strangers meeting for the first time. Except they’re not, and their history is hanging heavily in the air between them.

Lando nods, shoving his hands into his jeans pockets, “How about this, let me join you for that drink?”

She takes a look to where her friends are dancing, then she turns back to him, “I'm here with my friends.”

It's a pathetic excuse, she knows that. But she has no time to think of something else. Not when her brain is suddenly all scrambled and can't form a single coherent thought.

Lando frowns, disappointed, but not willing to give up that easy. “Come on, just a quick catch-up and then you can go back to your friends. Mine won't mind,” he shrugs, pointing at the bar, where the others are following their every move like a bunch of curious minions.

She catches Max lifting his glass in her direction, and Ethan, waving frantically.

Against her better judgment, she nods.

“Okay,” she murmurs, “Let's catch up,” she spits the words, sounding a bit too sarcastic. Still, it makes Lando smile.

His shoulders relax slightly, relief softening the tension in his body. He gestures toward a quieter corner of the club, away from the pounding bass and the sea of bodies. His first instinct was to take her hand in his, but since that's over the line, Lando keeps looking back, making sure she follows him. And she does. Like a naive, lost puppy that hasn't learned a single thing in the past five months, apparently.

The crowd surges around them, chaotic and loud, and before she can react, someone stumbles into her, their elbow catching her arm. As a result, she's thrown off balance, her feet slipping on the slick floor. Gasping, she's bracing for the inevitable fall that… never comes.

Lando’s hand shoots out, catching her waist and pulling her upright. His grip is firm, grounding, and suddenly she’s pressed against him, her chest brushing his.

“Careful,” says Lando, his lips close enough to her ear for the voice to cut through the noise.

The spot where he's touching her is burning her skin. She looks up, speaking with a hesitant smile, “Thanks, I'm good.”

The club around them fades away, and all she can feel is the warmth of his hand on her waist and the familiar scent of his cologne — a smell she used to know so well. It is almost intoxicating, and it makes her mouth water. She realizes that's what she was missing the most.

Lando smiles faintly, his hand slipping away as if he’s reluctant to let go. “Always got you.”

She doesn’t know how to respond to that, sensing the double meaning behind his affirmation. So, she nods and lets him guide her the rest of the way.

They find a small, semi-private booth near the exit, far enough from the main dance floor that the music dulls to a manageable volume. He gestures for her to sit first, then slides in across from her.

She fiddles with the edge of her glass, feeling his eyes on her.

“So,” she starts, leaning back against the booth, “You're here.”

Here, as in back home.

“For a week or so, yeah. Got a bit of a break between Brazil and Vegas.”

She nods, emptying the rest of her drink in one go, “How’ve you been?”

Lando shrugs slowly, “Alright. Busy with work and everything,” he trails off, his gaze dropping to her lips for a brief moment. “It’s not the same,” he continues, his smile fading away. “What about you, what have you been up to?”

She needs superhuman powers to stop herself from scoffing in his pretty face. It’s such a simple question, yet it feels loaded, heavy with all the things they haven’t said to each other in almost half a year.

“It's been… peaceful. I moved to another neighborhood. Kept busy, distracted.”

Lando hums, his expression unreadable for some reason. “Yeah, I get that. You look great, by the way,” he states it as a fact, his voice soft but unwavering.

She hesitates, then looks up at him, really looks at him. His face is the same and yet… not really. The boyishness is still there, but there’s a weariness in his eyes that's somehow new. Plus some facial hair she always begged him to try out. It tugs at something inside her, something she’s not sure she’s ready to face. Because it hurts. Because it annoys her. Because, after everything, she's still not over it.

“Cheers,” she replies, hoping he won't catch the blush in her cheeks. “I kind of hoped you would look like shit when I saw you again,” she admits. “You know, I'm talking no front teeth and severely balding. But, oh well. You too.”

Lando's smile widens, making everything infinitely worse for her.

He wears a black shirt that clings to his frame in a way that highlights the muscles in his arms. His black cap is pulled low, worn backwards in that signature way he always did, giving him that effortlessly cool vibe. His eyes are still the same, though. Dark, piercing, the same ones that could make her heart beat faster even after everything that’s happened.

“I thought about you a lot over these months, you know,” Lando finds himself saying, chewing on his lower lip.

She shoots him a surprised look.

As if, she thinks. His Instagram feed would say otherwise.

“You did?” she ends up asking, curiosity getting the best of her.

A hint of vulnerability creeps into his voice, “Of course. I've missed you.”

She laughs dryly, “But it's been good for us, right? We just established we both look great, no constant fighting, no slamming doors, no smashed phones…” she says, looking at him intently.

He can't sustain that for long, so he looks down at his shoes, slightly ashamed, remembering how bad it used to get when the distance between them felt too much to handle. He remembers the frustration, and the helplessness he felt when he couldn’t reach her, because he couldn’t make things right. He did smash his phone once, in a fit of anger, because he couldn’t get ahold of her for hours — not his proudest moment, that's for sure.

Lando swallows hard, “Yeah, it has been nice to have some distance. I guess it makes the heart grow fonder, right?”

“Hmm,” she hums, letting her eyes travel across the room, scanning random faces and wondering how life would be if she were someone else, “I don't know about that.”

She knows, in fact. But the words pause in her throat, too tangled up in memories. When he finally looks up, she's holding his gaze for just a beat longer than she should, and she wonders if he can feel it too — that familiar pull, like gravity, drawing them back together once again.

“I know—” Lando begins, not sure from which angle to approach. “I know it was the right choice at the time, but I can't help but wonder what things could have been if I'd fought harder for you.”

“Come on, Lando,” she laughs, unamused, giving her head a shake, “We would've ended up in another vicious circle, no matter what. It's always like that with us, isn't it?”

A part of him knows she's right. Still, “We'll never know.”

“Well, maybe it's better that way,” she manages, her voice lacking conviction.

“Or maybe it’s not,” he contradicts her, his words carrying a weight that presses on both of them. “You never think about us?”

Another sharp, dry laugh — it's either this, or she'll start crying. “I am actively trying not to,” she admits, her tone tinged with exasperation. “What’s the point, Lan? Thinking about what could’ve been won’t change what happened. You were always gone, and I couldn't spend my life following you around like a headless chicken. We had a good time, but it was never going to last,” she says the last part mostly as a reminder for herself. “Not in those circumstances.”

His jaw tightens. “You think it was easy for me? That it didn’t tear me up knowing I couldn’t be there for you the way you wanted me to?”

“I didn't say that,” her eyes snap to his, “We simply weren't working. We were too good at breaking each other.”

Lando leans back in his chair, frustration visible on his face. He hates that she's right, but it doesn’t stop the ache in his chest.

His jaw clenches, “I just… I don’t want to believe that’s all we were. Breaking each other.”

Her expression softens a little at his words, “Not all. But enough to make us miserable.”

For a while, the air between them feels heavier, the noise fading into the background. He wants to say something, anything, to counter her point, but all he can do is look at her and ask himself if they were, indeed, playing a losing game back then.

“Did you meet someone?” his question flies out of nowhere.

Lando looks at her with anticipation, sensing the hesitation.

“I did,” she replies, nodding slowly.

“And?”

She meets his eyes for a split second before looking away again, fixing her gaze somewhere on the table. “And we're happily married with twins on the way. What do you think? I just. Couldn’t.”

Lando's stomach drops, trying his best to remain calm, his hands clenching into fists. “You couldn’t what? Be with them?”

She shakes her head, her movements slow and deliberate, as if choosing her words carefully. “It was too soon.”

Her answer only leaves him with more questions. “So, what does that mean?”

“I don’t know what it means,” she rushes to say, her tone tinged with irritation. It’s clear she’s as unsure as he is, but that only makes it harder for Lando to process her reaction.

He runs a hand over his face, his exasperation bubbling to the surface. “I’m just trying to understand,” he says, his voice quieter but no less intense. “Because I've also tried.”

She looks directly at him now, her eyes narrowing slightly. “And?” she challenges in the same manner, her tone carrying just a hint of defiance.

“They weren't you,” says Lando, the truth of his statement hanging between them like a heavy anchor.

They remain silent after that.

She wants to ask him why — why he still cares, and why it hurts so much to be in the same space again after all they’ve been through. Nothing comes out, though; she already has the answer to that. They didn't break up because they stopped loving each other. They had both been too caught up in their own worlds to find any kind of balance. That broke them up.

He wants her to speak. He needs to hear her speak. To react. But when she says nothing in return, there is a brief second when he feels like giving up for good; he can't do anything if she's already made a decision. He knows how stubborn she is.

Lando nods to himself while getting up and start walking toward the exit, his thoughts all over the place.

The night air greets them with a quiet, cooling embrace as they step out of the club. Of course she follows, and she hates herself for that. But she can't help it — it's instinct. Like a magnetic force he's always had over her.

On the other hand, it's how they always communicated, through gestures and actions rather than words.

The soft click of her heels against the pavement gives Lando hope. He slows down so she can catch up, and then they walk side by side, without talking. The background noise of the city keeps them company, and by the time she decides to break the silence, he stops abruptly.

His voice sounds so small now, like a child asking his parents why can't he eat his chocolate bar before dinner.

“I know it feels so silly looking back,” says Lando, as though afraid to shatter the superficial peace between them. “We did so many things wrong, but I think we also did a lot of things right.”

She hesitates, her eyes dropping to the ground where a patch of light from a distant street light catches the edge of her shoe. Her arms fold tightly across her chest, while trying to look anywhere but at him.

“Yeah, breaking up was one of the right things,” she says thoughtfully, though her voice has a trace of bitterness behind it. “Before that, we tried so hard to make it work that we ended up burning each other alive.”

It's crazy how simple words can cause physical pain so quickly.

“Yet we're still here,” he reminds her. “Knowing what we know now, maybe we wouldn’t burn so fast this time. And isn’t it worth it, even if it only lasts for a little while? We were so happy at the start.”

That’s what he clings to. The laughter, the stolen moments, the way they fit together so effortlessly — she can’t argue with that. Their beginning was a beautiful dream, but it’s the nightmare that followed that keeps her guarded now, even though all she wants is to crack his ribcage open and slip inside him so they will never be apart again.

Her voice shakes as she tries her best to make him see her side, the memories spilling out like water breaking through a dam. “I had to put myself back together, Lando. Piece by piece. And I was all alone.” She forces herself to meet his gaze, finally, her eyes glassy with unshed tears. “Turns out, our friends were actually your friends, and I had to go through the worst breakup of my life with no one by my side. I had to move, I had to build an entire life from pretty much nothing. And I had to do everything alone, because I didn’t just lose you. I lost everything the moment I made you the center of my universe.”

Her words knock the air out of his lungs, guilt clawing at his insides. “Look, I know I should have been there,” says Lando, his voice barely steady. “Fuck me. I wasn’t supposed to let you go in the first place, alright? I should’ve been a better boyfriend, and I should’ve fought harder to make it work, using what we had then. But you did fuck with my head, and I thought being away would help.”

The first tear spills down her cheek, and she wipes it away hastily, as if she could erase the vulnerability altogether.

“It did help,” she agrees. “I know I can live without it now.”

Lando freezes for a split second, then stepping dangerously closer to her. “So, you’ll be fine if we stay broken up?” he asks, his voice almost a whisper.

She nods, but it’s shaky. And when she takes a step back, trying to put distance between them, Lando decides he gave her enough space. Fuck that. He's not thinking anymore, not with his brain, at least. He closes the distance again, his hands finding her waist and pulling her close in one swift motion.

It’s impulsive, desperate even. But he doesn’t care. The moment he feels her presence in his personal space, the fire he’s tried to smother for months, roars back to life, more powerful than ever. And just like that, everything it's right again. The way her body fits against his, the familiarity of it all, makes his heart race in his chest.

“Stop being so fucking stubborn, baby,” he murmurs into her hair, his voice cracking under the weight of his own desperation. “Why can’t we at least try, hm? You told me it was too soon for someone else. Maybe it’s because it’s supposed to be me.”

Her breath catches at the sudden closeness, at the rawness of his voice. She's unsure of what to do with her hands, until they hover awkwardly by his shoulders.

“You're not fair,” she whispers, her voice slightly trembling. “You can’t just accidentally waltz back into my life and say things like that.”

“I don’t give a flying fuck about being fair,” he says, his voice firm. “I just want us back. Simple as that.”

Her tears blur the edges of Lando's face when she tries to push him away, but his grip won't let her. Not this time.

“It's not that simple, and you know it,” she says. “We’ll only end up hurting each other again.”

“Then we hurt, so what?” he counters, his voice soft but sure. “At least we’ll know we tried until there wasn't anything worth fighting for. I'm not done with you, baby. Are you?”

Her hands finally move, trembling as they brush against his cheeks. They're not as soft as they use to be, his little facial hair scratching slightly at the pads of her fingers. The connection sends a jolt through them both as her touch lingers, trailing up to his hair. She pulls at his cap with both hands, placing it on her own head with a weak smile.

“It’s longer than you used to wear it,” she notices, her tears catching the street lights.

Lando’s heart clenches, managing to shoot a small smile in return, “I thought maybe I’d try growing it out. Do you like it?”

“I love it,” she admits as she tries to messily style his hair with her fingers. “It suits you.”

For a little while, they’re trapped in their own bubble. Her touch feels like home, and all Lando can think of is that he can't lose it again.

“I’m not asking you to decide now,” he finally says, his thumbs tracing soft circles on her waist. “I just need to know I’m not the only one still holding on.”

TWENTY MINUTES LATER, they're stumbling into her apartment. She knows it's reckless, and she's basically throwing away five months of progress, but it wasn't going to last, anyway.

Addictions are very hard to keep under control, especially when they have curly, dark hair and give you bed eyes.

“This way,” she says, her lips swollen from kissing all the way to her door.

Lando doesn’t have time to adjust, his head already spinning with hundreds of scenarios that fly tirelessly through his mind. However, the only thing that captivates him at the moment is her, and the way her fingers curl into the waistband of his jeans. She tugs him closer, her lips crashing onto his once again, their breaths blending in a frantic exchange of need and uncertainty.

He watches her fumbling with the buttons of his shirt, her movements clumsy but determined. His heart reaches his throat, swallowing hard, as his hands move from her waist to his belt, blindly unbuckling it before tossing it carelessly aside. The sound of leather hitting the floor barely registers over the erratic, overlapping rhythm of them kissing.

Then, he sees it. The spark in her eyes she used to have when she looked at him — it catches him off guard, giving him hope. He follows her as she moves slowly, her back toward the bed, her movements precise, like a cat's. She lies down, propping herself up on her elbows, while he takes cautious steps closer, his shirt hanging open to reveal his chest and toned abs.

But just as he leans forward, her high heel presses lightly against his chest, stopping him.

Lando freezes, his hands bracing on either side of her foot, tracing his palm up and down her leg, as his eyes dart up to meet hers.

“You can look,” she says, catching a glimpse of confusion in his eyes. “But for now, no touching.”

He frowns, clenching his jaw at her request. It would make sense for her to bring him to her place only to torture him, but she can't be that heartless. Right? The sight of her, stretched out on the bed with her foot holding him at bay, is almost too much to handle already.

“You're not fair,” he mutters under his breath, a ghost of a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

“I don't give a flying fuck about being fair,” she repeats his words from earlier, her foot staying firm against his chest.

The power is in her hands, and she's planning on using them properly tonight.

“No touching,” she repeats, determined.

Lando's hands fall at his sides.

Slowly, she slides her foot down, letting it drag across his chest, making a quick stop on his lower abdomen before settling on the bed. Her gaze locks onto his, a daring glint in her eyes as she spreads her legs, revealing the black lace panties. The dress she's wearing lifts up her thighs of its own accord, leaving Lando chocking on air for a brief moment. His lips part as she trails her fingers down her own body, teasing herself the way she’s done countless nights before.

Nights when he wasn’t there.

Nights when she was alone, chasing a high only his touch could give her.

“Wanna see how I got through five months without you?” she asks, her hands traveling way down, hooking her fingers to pull at the soft material.

His breath hitches, the sight of her undressing before him so painfully slowly making his chest ache with longing and guilt.

“I thought of you,” she continues, letting a small whimper out when the soft lace peels off with a little resistance from her already soaked pussy. “Your hands, your mouth… the way you sound when you're turned on,” she discards the panties at the foot of the bed, her breath catching in her throat as she glances at him through her lashes. “Such a delicious combination between your sleepy voice and that low octave you hit when you're drunk.”

Lando’s mouth goes dry, his hands twitching at his sides, itching to lean over and collect the material off the floor to stuff it into his pocket as a souvenir. He’s never felt so powerless and yet so utterly consumed by someone before.

“Will you let me?” she asks, her lips curving into a smile that’s equally wicked and vulnerable, “Show you?”

Her name leaves Lando’s lips in a protest while he takes an instinctive step forward, but she stops him with her foot once again. It’s a punishment, and he knows it. She’s showing him exactly what he missed, and exactly how she wanted him for so long.

Lando's breath is shallow, his chest rising and falling as he watches her. Helpless. His every nerve is tuned to her, eyes following how her fingers slide so easily between her folds, spreading the wetness as she teases her hole. Of course she’s taking her time with it, only to make sure he registers every tiny detail, just in case he forgot.

Her head tilts to the side with a quiet gasp when she pushes slowly inside. The sound of her wet entrance is enough to make his knees weak, still, his body turns to stone.

On the other hand, his heart is a mess of pride and frustration — pride that she still feels comfortable to be this vulnerable and open in front of him, frustration that he has to see her like this, untouchable. That's why he's not even blinking, too afraid he'll miss a thing.

She starts to gently rock her hips against the bed, fucking her fingers in and out, her body trembling as her whimpers fill the room. It's too much for Lando, but luckily, she didn't say anything about moving. His legs finally give out, and he falls to his knees, the sound of his breath ragged and uneven as he gets closer to her.

Yes, she's in charge — for now, at least — but he can't stop his words slipping out. Quiet, yet demanding.

“Slower,” he says, fixing his eyes on the way her fingers slide over her clit. “Don't rush it, please. I want to see all of you.”

Her gaze meets his, and for a moment, neither of them says anything else. She sees the vulnerability etched into his features, the way his body betrays him, shaking with restraint, completely at her mercy.

He looks like a man unmoored, defeated. So beautiful.

“Lando…” she breaths heavily, her back arching against her own hand, that flattered slightly at his words, a blush creeping up her neck and cheeks.

She hates how much he still affects her, obeying him without questioning his ways. Like no time has passed whatsoever.

When they make eye contact again, it's like they silently agree to go with it; whatever tonight will bring.

“That's is,” says Lando with satisfaction as she resumes her movements. “You gorgeous little thing. So beautiful when you listen, yeah?”

She nods, feeling him leaning forward just slightly, close enough that she can feel his warmth on her skin, without him touching her in any way. The air feels electric, her breath stuttering as she keeps fucking up her fingers under Lando's careful guidance. He watches every motion, his jaw tightening, ignoring the ache in his boxers the moment she finds her sweet spot, crying at how good it feels. She tries to muffle the moan, but Lando catches the hesitation, his eyes narrowing in her direction.

“No, let me hear you. Please, let me hear you,” he implores, exhaling sharply. “God, you're perfect. I could watch you forever.”

Lando can't help but notice how receptive she becomes at his words, her body tightening at the way he's praising her. As a result, she presses her fingers harder onto her clit, feeling the pressure building inside.

“Mhm, Lan…”

“I'm with you, baby. Keep going,” he encourages her, his gaze fixating on the slickness dripping between her legs. “Fucking hell. You're already so close, aren't you?”

It's like every word gets caught in her throat, and the only way she can reply to him is with a pathetic, desperate whimper.

In hindsight, she's never came from her fingers so quickly before, but the wave that’s hitting her from every direction right now is too intense to process right away.

It happens too fast, and the next thing she's aware of is Lando's voice, bringing her back.

“Please,” she hears him beg, managing to give him a slight nod of her head in return.

In that moment, the lights go out. Even so, Lando wants to be patient, as his index finger lightly brushes against her warmth. She exhales, giving up control, her gaze locked on him as if he is the only one that ever knew her. Meticulous, Lando traces his long, rough finger through her wetness, causing a shock to run through her whole body as it moves up and down her clit.

She thought she already crossed her limit, but then he leans down to press his mouth on her — deliberately, unapologetically, thirsty.

Lando lets out a deep, guttural groan that reverberates against her, causing her hips to twitch slightly. His tongue is wet and warm on her pulsating clit, leaving her breathless while he tastes her like it's the last time.

“My sweet, sweet baby,” he whispers, his voice intimate and personal, the words enveloping her in layers and layers of honey.

Feeling his warm breath on her center causes a surge of tension within her, making her walls tighten as his tongue explores within. He can't help but smile just as she leans into him, her body responding naturally, and he grips her thighs, closing the remaining gap between them. At that, she instantly buries her fingers in his curls, her hips mimicking his head movements.

“Oh, fuck,” she exhales abruptly.

The rest is pure bliss — his tongue licking in deep strokes, his muffled moans between her thighs, and the way he can’t seem to let go of her, gripping her tightly because he’s been deprived of her taste for so long.

Just for a brief second, Lando raises his head and, as his gaze remains fixed on her eyes, his mouth sucks gently at her clit. She's never seen him so desperate before, the sight of him owning her like that covering her entire body in chills.

Gradually, his kisses become way too powerful, which forces her to quickly grab his messy curls and pull him closer, unable to control herself anymore.

Without any warning, she screams his name as her climax hits her like a tidal wave for the second time in a row.

His growling makes her thighs quiver in his grasp, the vibrations intensifying her pleasure as her body convulses with each new sensation, while Lando’s tongue continues licking her during every heartbeat and shiver.

Next time she looks at him, his lips shine, his cheeks are red, and his gaze so intense that it causes her heart to skip a beat, creating a connection that seems more profound than any physical sensation she's just experienced.

He didn’t try to give her the best she’s ever had, but attempt to remind her how well he knows her body — to show her she still belongs to him.

“You’re so pretty,” says Lando, keeping his eyes on her, while he presses one finger back inside her cunt to test how thight she is after her second orgasm.

“Lando,” she spits his name at the unexpected touch, still too sensitive, “What… are you doing?” she gasps softly, a mixture between a sigh and a moan, when Lando's finger pulls out and glides across her wet, delicate clit once again.

“What do you think I’m doing?” Lando murmurs against her thigh, his voice low and reverent.

He grins in her direction, while his thumb circles her clit with precise intention, like a wheel gripping the perfect racing line. Sure of himself, Lando continues his movements, realizing how overstimulated she is, as he gets up to hover above her. Her hips buck instinctively into his hand, a jolt of reaction she can’t control.

Seeing Lando on top makes her react on instinct, wrapping one arm around his neck, while the other hand travels down his chest. The heat pooling in her stomach rises fast, an apex she didn’t expect to reach so soon. It’s intoxicating, her body spiraling as her mind blanks out the world beyond him.

“Lan—” she gasps, her back arching as if trying to escape, though every fiber of her betrays that she wants more.

“Come on, baby,” he says, increasing the pace. “You can give me one more. You're doing so well, I know you can,” his voice is a blend of dominance and desire, while his fingers press into her, knowing exactly where to go and how to bend, ���Like that, see? So easy for me to read you. I could fuck my fingers into your pretty hole all night long and you'd still come for me every single time, wouldn't you, baby?”

Shaking, she clings to his neck, crying out his name in spasms. He loops his free arm around her, gently kissing her cheek — a gesture so tender and innocent that makes her heart grow ten times in size.

She grips his shoulder with one hand, her eyes closing in pleasure. “I can’t—” she chokes, the words tumbling out between ragged breaths.

In an attempt to get her power back, she tries to push at his wrist, but his arm steadies her, determined.

“Of course you can, love,” says Lando, his voice a gentle command, the firmness in his tone like a driver refusing to lift his foot off the pedal, curious to see how far he can take it.

Her hand clenches around his arm as his thumb presses against her clit with ruthless precision. She reacts on instinct, muscles coiling tight as she bucks against his hand, not sure what controls her body anymore, since her brain got disconnected long ago. The slik rhythm of Lando's fingers becomes too much, and she knows she's close when he starts curling them inside at the perfect angle.

“La— Fuck, baby, that feels so good,” her voice is a high-pitched cry now, laced with desperation. “I’m going—”

“I know, baby. So pretty. Look at you, making such a mess for me,” he urges, leaning in to kiss her neck.

Her body tightens as pleasure explodes within her, blinding and all-consumming — a full-throttle sensation, unrelenting in its intensity. She sobs his name as liquid warmth spills from her pussy, coating Lando’s fingers. He doesn’t stop there, though, his hand continuing its pace, coaxing every last wave of her climax as his arm holds her securely against him.

“God, I've missed you.”

When her breathing slows down, he falls down on top of her, burying his head in the crook of her neck. Her legs shake slightly, and her fingers curl weakly into his bare chest as he cradles her close.

Lando presses a tender kisses against her temple, his voice filling the quiet. “It wasn’t acciedntal,” he confesses.

She blinks rapidly, tilting her head to look at him, confused, “What?”

“Earlier,” Lando clarifies, “You said I was accidentally waltzing back into your life — it wasn’t accidental,” he repeats.

“What do you mean?”

Lando places a few more kisses on the heated skin of her neck, sucking in a couple of bruises, the gesture meant to buy himself more time for the storm raging in his head to stop.

“Lando,” she pulls him out of it.

“Been trying to figure out how to do this for a while. I just… couldn’t stay away from you anymore,” he admits, looking up at her, his eyes pleading. “I had Max playing detective while I was away.”

She pushes him off her to sit up on the bed, pulling at the edges of her dress. “Seriously, what?” her tone is not defensive — at least not yet — but there’s a sharpness to it that cuts into him.

“No, I didn’t mean it like that,” he rushes to explain, “Look, I didn’t stalk you or anything. Nor Max,” he continues, getting up to stand next to her. “I didn’t even know where you lived until you brought me here. I swear.”

She wraps her arms around her own body, needing something to ground herself, “What did you do, Lando?” the girl asks, her voice quieter now.

He swallows, “I just asked him to check in on you. To see if you were okay.”

“And how did he do that?”

“He saw you tagged in a pic on this girl's account, and then did some research on the people you were with, paid some dudes to find out if their records were clean—” he starts chuckling when her fist hits his shoulder, playfully, but still with intent.

“Don’t be a dick,” she warns, her smile giving away the fact that she’s still amused by his immature sense of humor.

“I just… didn’t want to simply appear out of nowhere if you were happy. If you’d moved on,” Lando continues, his tone more serious now. “But when he told me you seemed like you hadn’t, I couldn’t keep pretending like I was fine. I'm really not.”

His honesty was always a breath of fresh air, but now it's suffocating. Hearing him admitting he's not okay, implying that she's the reason why, is simply heartbreaking.

Her arms drop slowly to her sides, her fingers gripping the edge of the bed, “Why now, Lando? And why not text or call?”

He scoffs, “Can you look me in the eye and tell me honestly that you would have picked up if I called? Especially given how we left things?”

She cups Lando’s chin in the palm of her hand, forcing him to look at her, “I'll always pick up if it's you.”

The admission makes his chest tighten.

Lando shakes his head, “I promise I’ve tried,” he says, “God, I’ve fucking tried. I threw myself into everything, and nothing worked. Racing, training, sim sessions, going out with the guys — no matter what I did, I was constantly thinking of you. Every night out felt wrong because I wasn’t coming home to you. And I know home is such a vague word for me, because I’m mostly away, but you made every single place feel like home, and that's why it didn't matter where I was at the time. I just needed… need you in ways I can't nor want to explain.”

His confession makes her head spin. The breakup had been difficult for her, but she hadn’t considered how Lando had handled the past five months. All along, she had assumed he wouldn’t miss her — that his life, always on the road and consumed by his own pursuits, was too busy to notice the absence of one small, insignificant detail: her.

She's now realizing how wrong she had been to think that way.

“So…?” she finally asks. “Do you think a few orgasms later can mend what was broken five months ago?”

“What? No, of course not,” he says firmly, leaning forward, his elbows digging into his thighs. “I swear, all I wanted to do tonight was talking to you. I didn’t plan on getting to this point, but I can’t say I’m mad about it,” says Lando, taking her hand in his, brushing his thumb over her knuckles. “You still want me,” she shoots Lando a rapid look, studying his face, “Just like I want you. I see it, I feel it. Baby, I know it.”

Her heart pounds in her chest, the sincerity in his voice cutting through her defenses like a hot knife through butter. She wants to be angry, to accuse him of being selfish, but the truth is, she isn’t. Maybe it’s foolish to believe him, but one thing Lando never did was lie to her. He did worse, yes, but he never lied.

“Lando...” she starts, but her voice trails off, wishing her head would stop spinning so she could think.

“I know I hurt you,” he continues, his voice softer now, “You hurt me. We hurt each other. But we're too good together not to find a way to make it work .”

She doesn’t respond immediately, her mind racing with memories of their past — the good, especially the bad, and everything else in between. Her fingers toy with the fabric of her dress, her eyes flickering between his face and the floor. The room is heavy with silence and, just for a moment, she lets herself believe that maybe, just maybe, they could find each other again.

Otherwise, if it's meant to fall apart, then let it happen with them gasping for air, tangled together, connected in every way imaginable.

THE MORNING SUN filters shyly through the curtains, soft and golden, spilling across the bed where Lando stirs awake. He’s all alone, the sheets around him rumpled from where she had slept. He blinks up at the ceiling, a little disoriented. Then, he hears the faint sound of running water and realizes she’s in the shower. It makes him feel like everything went back to normal, but he can't be sure of what's going to happen next. He can only speculate and hope, but nothing more than that.

The quiet is interrupted by the persistent buzz of his phone on the nightstand. He reaches for it, still groggy from sleep, scrolling through a handful of texts from last night — banter in the group chat, some Instagram notifications, a few missed calls; nothing too important to catch his eye. He places the phone back on the smooth surface carelessly, and his hand knocks over something solid in the process.

Frowning, he sits up to put it back in its place, and that’s when he sees it — a framed picture of them, taken during a rare quiet weekend in Monaco over a year ago, right at the beginning of their relationship. She looked so happy back then, caught mid-laugh as Lando was gazing at her with an expression so tender that it makes his chest ache now. The weight of the memory hits him harder than he expects, pulling him fully awake.

The sound of the bathroom door opening makes him turn, and he puts the frame back quickly. However, it's enough for her to catch his sudden movement, her eyes flicking to the photo and back to him.

Her cheeks flush a deep pink. “I meant to put that away,” she rushes to say, pulling the towel tighter around her body like it might shield her from the embarrassment.

“Carlos took this one,” his voice is soft, as his eyes shift back to the frame. He picks it up again, turning it in his hands. “You asked me why didn't I call, but… why didn't you call?”

She laughs dryly, crossing the space to take the frame from his and and placing it face down on the nightstand. She sits down next to him, shrugging.

“And tell you what, Lando? That I couldn’t stop thinking about you even though you broke my heart?” she asks, shaking her head, the embarrassment turning into something closer to frustration. “It’s just a stupid picture, anyway. We barely knew each other when it was taken.”

“It’s not stupid,” he contradicts her vehemently. His hand reaches out tentatively, brushing against her soft forearm. “It's nice to know I wasn’t completely crazy for hoping you felt the same.”

Her lips part like she wants to say something, but no words come out. The towel slips slightly, and she clutches it tighter, her defenses crumbling under the weight of his hungry eyes.

“Lando…”

“Leave it there, yeah?” he says, pointing at the picture. “Facing your side of the bed, preferably.”

Seeing her suddenly deep in thought, Lando grabs her wrist and gently pulls her onto his lap, his thumb lightly brushing against her silky skin.

She looks at him, her emotions warring on her face. “If it makes me look less pathetic, it was face down most of the time.”

Lando laughs, his hands finding her waist, then her hips, steadying her on his lap, “I love you,” he says it casually, but it still freezing the blood in her veins.

Her fingers fly towards his mouth to cover his lips, “Don't,” she warns.

“You know I do. I was serious last night. You don't have to decide anything right now, but I'm not going anywhere. It sucks we needed to hurt for a while, we're both at fault, but I never stopped loving you,” he repeats.

“You're so unfair.”

“Don't care, say it back,” he teases, digging his fingers into her skin to tickle her sides.

She starts giggling, “Don't you dare.”

His grin widens, “Or what?” he asks playfully as her hands fly to his, trying to fend him off.

“Lando, I'm serious. Stop it,” her laughter blends with his while he leans in closer, his lips brushing her ear.

“I need to hear it, baby. Please. Just say it back.”

“It back,” she chuckles, feeling his fingers tickling her so mercilessly that tears form in her eyes. Their laughter bubbles over, loud and uninhibited, until she collapses against him. “Okay, fine. Fine,” her breathy voice stops him in place, catching his attention. “I love you, Lando.”

A simple confession; he asked for it. But none of them expected it to hang that heavily between them. It's not a lie — not in the slightest — and Lando knows it.

“Enough to give us a second chance?” he asks.

Her breath catches at the sudden shift in his tone, and before she can reply, his thumb traces her cheek gently.

“I'm so scared,” she admits, leaning into his touch.

Lando sighs, understanding too well where she's coming from, “I know, baby. But I'm even more afraid of losing us again. Losing this…”

His hand slides down her chest, tracing the curve of her breasts. With a gentle movement, he tugs at the corner of her towel, letting it drip smoothly down her body. Patiently, he runs his hands down her waist, moving back up to her chest as they leave goosebumps in their wake. Hungry, his hands rest on her breasts, squeezing them lightly until he feels her nipples in his palms, and she drops her head on his shoulder, whimpering softly.

Memories of last night make her body shudder, feeling the heat between her legs intensifying. Following his lead, her fingers start tugging at the waistband of his boxers, until they slip low on his hips.

Lando moves one hand around her neck, pulling her in for a kiss. He groans against her mouth, his breath hot and ragged, before breaking their connection long enough to kick the boxers aside.

Skin on skin, their bodies align like two puzzle pieces.

She hovers over him, his hands on either side of her, “I wanna take care of you,” he speaks softly, closing his eyes when her forehead rests against his. “Please, let me take care of you.”

There’s a vulnerability in his tone that twists something deep inside her. She's just learned how to be independent again. She can't throw all of it away. She can't let herself slip.

She can't.

“Okay,” she whispers, her voice steady despite the storm raging within her.

Her answer is all that Lando needs to hear. His lips crash back onto hers as he swaps their positions, lowering her onto the bed, his body pressing against hers, warm and solid. And so very real. Every touch, every kiss, every whispered word feels like a promise, a vow that he won’t let her slip through his fingers again.

And then, Lando takes control — not the type of dominance he's used to when he steers his car. It's more like devotion; his hands map her body all over again, like a driver learning every twist and turn of a new circuit, his lips following the trail his fingers blaze.

She arches into his touch, responding to him in ways she thought she’d forgotten.

But the body remembers.

And the remembering is, oh, so good.

Last night was just the warm-up, she reckons — an act meant to remind both of them how well they fit together. Lando was gentle, kind, and patient. But now, she sees the shift in him.

His eyes are darker, filled with lust, his touch greedier. She can't help but smile when she realizes that the Lando she knows all too well — the one who’s needy, insatiable, and unrelenting in his desire for her — is still there, and so ready to show off.

Her skin tingles in anticipation as she watches him, knowing exactly what he wants. And for once, she wants it just as much. Maybe even more, considering how her body is acting independently from her brain.

She wants him to give her everything, to burn through her until she’s left gasping and wet and ruined, and she’s ready to meet his hunger with her own.

But before that, “We're not done talking,” she tells him, breathing heavily against his mouth.

“Yeah, we'll talk. Stay with me and we'll talk all you want, baby.”

She wants to protest, but her air gets knocked out of her lungs and her fingernails sink into his shoulders when Lando nudges the head of his cock up and down her slit to collect the wetness. With a gentle kiss on her jaw, she closes her eyes, tracing her fingers down his arms as he pushes inside.

They both exhale, relieved that they're back where they belong.

Talking can wait.

Lando's hands grip her waist just as he pulls out, only to push back in, all the way to the hilt in one slow, but hard thrust. The feeling is almost too much for her, which is ridiculous since he just started moving. But she feels so full, and the sounds he lets out only make her open up for him even more.

“Wait, wait,” she can barely recognize her own voice, stopping Lando when their hips touch together.

She can't explain it, but she needs it.

“What's wrong?”

She looks down between their bodies, confusing Lando even more. “I…,” she begins, but she's not sure how she's supposed to voice her need.

“It's okay, you can tell me,” he assures her, bringing his hand to cup her face in his palm, tracing his thumb over her cheek.

“I—need a second to feel you,” she explains, pushing his hand away only to trace her palms over her face.

Lando chuckles, “Baby, don't hide from me. You're driving me fucking mad when you're blushing.”

“I'm not blushing,” she contradicts him, raising her hips against his, her walls hugging him tighter with every move.

“No?” whispers Lando roughly as if he lost his voice. “God, you're perfect. So good, so fucking sweet and perfect around me, baby.”

Her legs tighten around his waist, keeping him inside, while one hand moves to his lower back to push him against her even more. There is no physical space left between them, but she still wants more. It only makes Lando's cock throb inside her pussy, giving her a few more seconds to adjust to his length before he pulls all the way out and slides back, searching for the perfect pace.

“Fuck, Lando,” she whines, burying her fingers into his hair, tugging at the roots.

“Yes, I know,” agrees Lando, his eyes flicking over her face. His insides tighten at the sight of her parting her lips in pleasure, her breathing hot and irregular. “You're so beautiful from this angle.”

“Shut up,” she cuts him off, which makes Lando chuckle again.

“Why would I?” he asks, leaning closer to her ear, while thrusting a couple more times before pausing. “You look like a fucking goddess taking my cock so well.”

She squeezes her eyes shut at the sound of his voice, low and raspy, rocking her hips to find that sweet friction against her walls again.

“Keep,” she whines, “Keep going, then. Let me have it.”

Lando presses his lips on hers at the same time he resumes his movements, his hands roaming all over her body.

“You can have my cock, baby,” he groans into her hair. “All yours.”

She nods, wrapping her fingers around his biceps, “Yeah?”

“Promise you,” says Lando.

After that, he picks up pace, both falling into an agonizing rhythm. All this time, she had thought that familiarity might dull the edge of being with Lando, that knowing his moves would make it predictable and boring, maybe even ordinary.

Somehow, it’s the exact opposite.

It’s because she knows him, and he knows her so well, that every touch feels ecstatic, every kiss charged with meaning. He doesn’t need to guess what she likes; he already knows how to unravel her, how to leave her trembling and breathless. And she knows exactly what will make his breath hitch, how to draw out that low, desperate groan that ignites her own fire.

In a way, every time feels like the first, but it's always much better, because they know how to make each other fall apart like no one else can.

“Please,” she gasps, breathing wetly in his shoulder. “Harder.”

One thing about Lando, he's always been good at listening. Without thinking twice, he tightens his grip on her hips, fucking his cock inside her harder and faster than before. In an instant, her ears are blessed with the way his moans sound.

“God, I've missed fucking my pretty girl like this,” says Lando, his hands moving on her thighs to spread her more so he can slide in faster. “It's never like this, baby, fuck.”

Being with Lando is chaos, the kind of beautiful, consuming chaos that leaves everything around them in shambles. They are loud and messy, and everything is sweaty and wet and sticky. He kisses her like he’s starving, touches her like he’s desperate to memorize every inch of her skin, and she matches his fervor, meeting him with the same wild energy that pulls them under. Together.

“Lando,” she spits his name out of her mouth in short spasms. “Lando, Lan… Lando.”

It's almost like a cry for help, but she doesn't need saving. Not when he's fucking her so good, slamming against her over and over again, until the outside world fades away and all she remembers is his name.

“Lando,” she whimpers again.

“Keep me in, love. Like that,” she can barely hear him over the sound of skin slapping on skin. “Fuck. You're taking me so well, I won't stop fucking you, baby. I won't—”

She sucks in a breath of air, her body buzzing with pleasure. Wrapping her arms around his torso, she can feel how hot and sweaty his chest is. She moves with him for a couple more thrusts before she lets go, the sound of Lando fucking in and out of her while she comes so obscene that it makes her eyes roll.

“I'll never get tired of seeing you coming like that,” says Lando, pinning her to the bed, his cock feeling so fucking good inside of her that it makes him see stars. “So fucking hot, baby.”

Her nails scratch the skin of his back as her pussy clenches around his length, forcing another hiss out of Lando's mouth.

“Don't stop,” she manages to say, even though she feels her throat raw.

“Ah, look at you, now. Being so good for me,” says Lando with a smirk, tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Letting me fuck you when you're sore and spent. And so wet, baby, you're dripping all around my cock. Fucking hell.”

Lando's jaw clenches, a visible battle playing out in his face as his breath hitches. She feels him moving deeper, hitting the sweet spot inside her, sending ripples of pleasure through her body with every thrust.

“Yes—fuck. Don't stop,” she repeats.

His eyes widen as he tries to hold on for as long as he can, but it's hard when he flashes his eyes in her direction and catches her already looking. It doesn't take long for him to realize there's a replica to her first orgasm. He nods, without saying anything else, bringing his hand up to her neck. She places hers on top of his, not to push it away, but to let it rest there as a sign that it's fine to claim her if that's what Lando needs.

And that's enough for him to lose it.

“Baby,” he breaths out, fucking her slopply, any sense of order dissolving under the weight of their eye contact.

She arches into him, her fingers trembling as they rise to cup his face.

“Keep your eyes on me,” she demands, her voice a desperate need.

She pictured that face thousands of times in the past months, but nothing compares to this. Lando groans at the command, his hooded gaze staying on hers. The intensity of his expression nearly undoes her again — his pupils blown wide, lips parted as he lets out s string of cuss words.

“That's it, pretty boy,” she whispers, her thumb brushing over his cheek as he moves inside her, his pace faltering for just a moment before he snaps back into thay sloppy rhythm, chasing his release. “Want to see you when you let go.”

She barely finishes her sentence when his orgasm crashes over him like a tsunami; no one would be able to even tell where she begins and where he ends.

Lando looks so beautiful and wrecked, and she drinks in every second of his surrender.

Beautiful, beautiful, beautiful.

When his features soften, she sees how vulnerable he is, and it leaves her breathless.

Satisfied and content, her fingers still trace his face, wanting to remember the exact way he looks in this moment, when he is completely hers.

Unable to support his weight, Lando collapses on top of her, feeling his body as light as a feather, which is so far from the truth. But she doesn't mind; she loves the feeling, actually. She loves the heaviness, and the way he keeps his cock tucked deep inside her, wet and softening slowly, not allowing his cum to leak out of her.

Descending back down from their high, the only sounds in the room are their slowing breaths and the soft rustle of the sheets. It's hard not to notice the weight of reality when it begins to creep in around the edges.

She lies beneath him, her fingers lazily tracing patterns on his back, but her mind is miles away.

“When are you leaving?” she finally asks, her voice barely above a whisper.

Lando tenses for a moment, then shifts to lie beside her, propping his head on his hand to look at her. The vulnerability in her eyes twists something deep inside him.

She swallows hard, suddenly flooded by all the reasons they had fought, all the late nights filled with misunderstandings and misaligned priorities. She remembers all the reasons why they broke up, and thinking how bad of an idea this has been. Because, how can she let go of him again, without feeling like she'll be losing both her head and heart in the process.

“On Tuesday,” says Lando softly. “But not how you think.”

Her brow furrows in confusion as she turns to face him. “What do you mean?”

Lando leans over, his hand caressing her cheek as he gathers his thoughts.

“I’ve been thinking about us for months. Since you left, actually,” he begins, his voice low and deliberate. “I had a lot of time, and I managed to figure out why it didn’t work before, why I couldn’t give you what you deserved. So… I’ve talked to the team.”

She almost stops breathing, her eyes widening in his direction while she waits for him to continue. Months ago, she would've die to have this conversation, and now that it happens, she doesn't know how to behave.

“I'm working on a schedule. To have more time for us,” Lando explains.

Her heart skips a beat. “You’d do that?”

“For us,” he repeats, his voice firm. “I can’t keep pretending I’m okay without you. I don't want to be okay without you, it's stupid. And I don’t want to keep coming back here, hoping for a second chance, only to mess it up again. I want to get it right this time.”

She stares at him, not knowing what to do with that information. This is not the Lando she knows. The recklessness and impulsivity got replaced by caution and planning the steps ahead. It's new, and exciting, and it makes her tear up.

“And what if it still doesn’t work?” she asks, her voice small.

He leans closer, his forehead touching hers. “It will.”

His tone is so definitive that she can't say anything else, letting the silence stretch between them as she searches Lando's face for any sign of hesitation.

There’s none.

“How... did you actually know where to find me last night?”

Lando smirks, studying her face with half-closed eyes, bringing his hand to her jaw. “That friend of yours posted on her story. Honestly, I didn’t know you were going to be there. But I hoped.”

She shakes her head, scoffing, “Stalker behavior.”

Lando shrugs nonchallantly, “I just happened to be nearby,” he chuckles.

“Lucky me,” she says, tracing the contour of his nose with her finger, stopping on his jaw.

“Lucky us,” he corrects, pulling her in for another kiss.

Thank you for reading!

None of my works are available for reposting on other platforms. Reblogs, likes, and comments are deeply appreciated ♥︎

© trashy track tales, 2024

[delphi-shield]

— 「 FLASH FIRE 」

lighter lorenz x reader — 2.8k — mdni summary: it’s reciprocal - lighter helps out with your car, you fuck him in the back seat. everybody wins. content: unprotected sex, forgetting to pull out, creampie, titsucking, hair pulling, brief mention of fisting.

You're running out of excuses.

You had traded favors and supplies for car maintenance for months now. Strictly business, at first, but the aimless teasing had quickly evolved into flirting, and the flirting had rapidly shifted to something more physical. Soon, your car became plagued with all kinds of problems, both real and imagined. Lighter had even let you get away with asking him to change your tail light. He didn’t even seem to realize what you were up to - not at first, anyway.

In reality, Lighter's had you figured out ever since you called him to check your tire pressure. You don't really need his help for most of this stuff, but he puts on a good show when he spreads his tools out in your garage. Your eyes always drift to his biceps when he hefts up the hood of your car. He braces a hand against the side, leans his weight into it, and you're torn between gawking at the way he peers down at the guts of your car, appraising, or the way his ass is squeezed into those jeans, hips cocked, heavy boots tapping against the garage floor.

It usually ended up in the backseat of your car -- or on the hood, or pressed up against the side. You had started stashing condoms in the center console.

“Need me to change your oil?" He offers one day, cutting off the way you're grasping at straws, floundering to keep him on the line. "It's about time."

Was it? You didn't know. You assumed he didn't either, figured he'd show up, check the mileage, and shake his head. Not quite time yet - but that's all right. He already came over, so he can find something else to work on.

But when he rolls up to your place he's got oil and a catch pan in hand. His jacket is discarded on the back of his bike, leaving him squeezed into a white tank top. He pats your arm as he walks by, eyes gleaming behind his sunglasses. Your surprise clearly delights him.

You plop into the back seat while he works, peppering him with offers for his service. Faint guilt swirls in your gut. You hadn't expected him to actually work on your car today. You could pick up his groceries when you ran into town, or help the Sons out with planning for Settlement Days. Each offer was barely considered, dismissed by a muffled ‘nah’.

It turns out the benefits of hooking up with Lighter include free car maintenance.

“You're all set,” Lighter says, slapping his hands against his thighs as he stands. He rounds your car to tower over you where you sit. Your legs swing, hanging off the edge, scuffing against the floor.

You spread your legs for him to step between — force of habit. Can't help but spread ‘em when Lighter steps up like that, when his hands brace against the top of your car and he sways down. He steps between your legs, nudging your knees wider with a powerful thigh.

“How am I going to pay you back?” You sigh dramatically, stifling a giggle. Lighter pretends to think for all of three seconds.

“A kiss?”

“That's all?”

“You're right. Two kisses.”

You grin. You can do better than that. You grab the front of his shirt and tug him down. He ducks past the door, laying you back against the seat. His kiss is languid, smiling against your lips as you laugh. You pull back to take his sunglasses off, noses bumping. You fold them closed and set them in the front seat, half-sitting up to reach.

Lighter takes advantage of the way you stretch, the column of your throat bared to him, ripe for his kisses to darken you skin. He sucks a mark beneath your jaw as you lay back into the seat. His hand slip up your shirt, palms lighting a warm path against your skin.

You roll up off of the seat, tits pressing into his chest. Lighter rolls your shirt up, separating from your neck briefly to fling your shirt outside of the car. His body covers your again, pressing you back to the seat. His scent, earthy and mouthwatering, infused with a tinge of oil and sweat, blankets you as he noses against the hollow of your throat.

You flip open the center console, searching sightlessly for a condom. Lighter works your bra off to paw at your tits, taking a moment to appreciate the weight in his palm before he latches on and sucks. His teeth scrape against your hardened nipple and you keen, back arching, pressing his face deeper into your breasts.

"Fuck - relax. Milk's not gonna come out," you grumble, free hand fisting tightly in his hair.

Lighter moans. He pops off one tit, dropping a sloppy kiss to the valley between your breasts. His knee slides up firmly against your pussy, grinding against you until you catch onto his rhythm and do it yourself. He's got that smug look on his face when he licks up your other, neglected breast, tongue lapping at your skin but lips never sealing around you.

You tug at his hair. Another moan, louder, more whiny. Your clit pulses against the seam of your jeans, and he finally commits to sucking your tits again.

Christ, you've got to find that fucking condom.

You sift through old receipts and miscellaneous bits and bobs blindly, struggling to find that elusive, crinkly little square. Lighter's hands slide down your sides, squeezing the dough of your hips tightly. He flicks the button of your jeans open, drawing his leg back to wiggle your pants halfway down your thighs. He palms your cunt through your panties and whines again, tremulous and pitiful.

"I'm so damn hard," Lighter groans. He drops his forehead against your collar bone, warm breath puffing against your skin. A searing heat blooms in your belly.

“Do you have a condom?” You blurt out. You can’t keep fumbling around like this - you need him now.

Lighter’s hand squeezes you, middle finger trailing against your clothed slit. He keeps one hand stroking your pussy while the other reaches behind him, patting the pockets of his jeans. He swears under his breath. His finger taps just over your clit - using your pussy like a damn fidget.

“I’ll pull out.” That’s his genius solution.

You should say no. You should offer to blow him, or let him fuck your tits, or anything other than the tried and true pull out method, but Lighter dips his fingers beneath your panties, presses the pad of his thumb against your clit and rolls. Sparks ignite in your veins. His finger teases your entrance. He only has to press gently into your before your greedy cunt tries to pull him deeper.

You grit your teeth. The promise of more makes you whine. Fingers won’t be enough. He could take his time finger fucking you open until he could fist you and it still wouldn’t be enough. You need his cock and you need it now.

“Okay,” you breathe out, face warming. You shouldn’t be agreeing to this. Even Lighter seems surprised. He picks his head up from your chest to meet your eyes, brows arched. You melt under his watch, body puddling against the seat. You roll your hips. His thumb stays steady against your clit, lets you roll yourself against his hand.

If he wants to ask if you’re sure, he loses the will when you squeeze around his finger.

He’s got more patience than you. Lighter presses kisses along your jaw, murmuring “okay,” as he slips down your body. He nips at your neck while his finger strokes through your soaked cunt. You try to spread you legs wider, to accommodate the fit of his hips, but your knees are trapped by your jeans, still hanging on for dear life.

You kick your foot and whine, your pants flapping comically. Lighter laughs. He struggles to pull them down further with just one hand.

“Hold still,” he murmurs, shifting awkwardly in the cramped back seat. His chest presses against yours, pinning you down with his weight. In the tight space, it’s impossible to escape his scent, his warmth, the hand toying with your pussy instead of shucking your pants off, winding you up.

You squirm beneath him, barely able to move. His laugh pools from his chest and into your.

“So fun to play with.” His voice is a rumble next to your ear. Your body tenses, skin feeling tight, flushed, stretched thin in anticipation.

“Hurry up,” you whine, jolting your hips up against his. He sucks a breath through his teeth.

It’s a heated blur. His hand withdraws from your pussy. He struggles with his belt long enough for you to wedge a hand between your bodies and try to help. It's finally open, his zipper barely down before you're shoving your hand into his pants to palm him.

He pushes your wrist away gently to pull himself free. The thought of taking him into your mouth makes drool pool in your mouth. You swallows thickly, swollen lips pouting. Eyes on the prize.

“Whatcha want?” Lighter leans back, his back hunched awkwardly in the small space of the back seat. He strokes himself slowly, his eyes fixed on your cunt.

“I want you shut the fuck up and fuck me.”

He taps the head of his dick against your clit, eyes lingering on the way he bounces it off your body, the way your thighs tense. Your struggle to stay still is plain as day in close quarters. Lighter grips the base of his thick cock. He slides himself through your folds, glistening tip nudging against your clit, each pass making you clench around nothing.

“Please,” you whine, smacking your head back against the seat. Your hands grip his biceps, nails biting into his skin.

He doesn't give you a chance to beg again. The fat head of his cock glides snugly into your pussy, the first inch frictionless and squelching. His fat cock catches, the stretch enough to make your breath sutter. Lighter plants a hand by your head, fingers dimpling the cushion. He pulls out, fucking himself deeper.

His forehead drops against your breast, chest near heaving. Lighter's hips stutter - barely restraining the desire to pound you into the carseat.

“You feel so fucking good,” he moans. He grinds into you, thick cock dragging against your walls, each roll of his hips sucking him in deeper and deeper until you can feel him in your stomach.

Your voice is caught in your throat, toes curling, knees pressing in, pussy trying to lock him in. You squeeze around him again and again, pulsing. Lighter bottoms out with one last, powerful roll of his hips, his restraint slipping, shuffling you up against the seats. Your cry out, pushing him back only to tug him closer, his face suffocated in your tits.

His hand slips down your spine, finding the small of your back. He angles your hips up, cock battering perfectly against a spot that has you crying out at each thrust, nails streaking red line against his biceps.

"Shit— shit," he pants, face buried into the junction of your neck, hips pinning you to the seat.

Lighter’s hips rabbit into you, fucking you hard and quick, lost in the feel of your gummy walls.

“Never going back to fucking condoms,” Lighter puffs out. Every thrust presses him against your clit. Tears prick at your eyes. Your mind blanks. You babble something incoherent in response. Your hand wedges between your body, rubbing frantically against your clit. “Feels so good. Not gonna last– fuck!”

Your dripping pussy has him in a vice grip, spasming as his hips drive into you again, again, again. Stars explode behind your eyes, fingertips clenching, chest too tight. His hips pin your hand against your clit. He doesn't draw back fully again, drags his fat cock hard and languid against the same spot over and over until all that tension unspools and the warmth spills over into your veins, onto his cock, coating your seats.

Lighter fucks you through it, voice pitching higher as his thrusts get sloppier, more desperate. He grumbles promises into your skin – gonna buy your birth control, baby, don't make me squeeze into a condom again, you feel too fucking good, holy shit, fuck, cumming—

You're already half-way to bonelessness, riding out the current of pleasure churns in you, when he floods your pussy with his cum. Spurt after spurt of his thick seed splatters against your walls. Your stomach flutters, eyes glazed.

Lighter's hips pump and sputter, staggered and stuttering, fucking his cum deeper into you. He leans his weight against you fully, muscled body pressing the breath from you. You don't know how you could be closer than this but you crave it, crave him, need more, need this to be unending.

Gradually, his hips slow. He comes down from his high, the whine in his voice pitching back to gravel. His cheek rests against your shoulder, hands flexing against your skin. You pet his hair idly, eyes shut, soaking in the bliss and the closeness.

His cock softens in your puffy walls, but his muscles tense with a sudden realization.

“Shit– I'm sorry,” he says in a rush, picking his head up to look at you. You only hum, confused, barely cracking an eye open. “I– inside. I didn't mean to–”

Oh. Ohh, fuck.

You swear quietly beneath your breath. Your teeth catch your lip, worrying it for a moment – but as fucked out as you are, brain still melted, it's difficult to muster panic.

You stroke his hair firmer, trying to urge him to lay back against you. His strength is evident in that moment when he resists your pull. The restraint in his touch is clear - and the threat of his strength has your aching clit twinging painfully. You were going to have to unpack that later.

“Lighter - it's fine,” you say. “I'll go to town later.”

“I'll drive you.” His tone brooks no argument. He pulls himself away from you, and the cold prickles against your flushed skin. You can't help but feel lost when he pulls himself out of you, pussy throbbing for the stretch of his cock - missing him already.

He tucks himself into his pants again, not bothering to zip back up. He bends, the curve of his tight ass on display. You sigh dreamily - nearly forget to react when he tosses you your discarded shirt back.

Lighter holds up a finger, chest still heaving and flushed, fluffy hair matted to his forehead with swear. He disappears from view, rattling around in your garage out of sight, before he comes back with a rag in hand.

"We should do this in a bed," you say, accepting the rag Lighter passes you. You inspect it carefully. No oil, no dirt - good enough for you.

"I think I can get a truck for an evening."

"What? No," You laugh. "Like a bed bed. With pillows, and blankets."

Lighter keeps his back turned to you, arms pausing mid-stretch. He rolls his shoulder, fluffs his hair - takes his sweet time turning back to face you.

Your stomach churns. Fuck. That was too much too quick. Sure, he just came inside you, but you were going to scare him off like this. He wasn't going to help you air up your tires ever again, much less fuck you–

"I can put pillows and blankets in a truck bed," he points out.

You huff a laugh, shaking your head. “I guess that's better than nothing.”

Lighter's lips quirk into a smile. He ducks back into the car, tapping your hip. You scoot back to make room for him. He lifts his arm, expecting you to curl up against his side.

“I'll drive you out for the sunset.”

“The sunset?” You repeat skeptically. You hadn't expected something so… sweet.

Lighter shrugs you closer. He tugs at a lock of your hair, teasing.

“Or for stargazing,” he counters, a hint of desperation sneaking in, cracking past his suave performance. “Whichever.”

You study him for a moment. He feels so unguarded in this moment, without the vestiges of the champion. He's just Lighter in this moment - just the man who fucked your brains out in the back of your car, who was at your beck and call for every stupid excuse you could conjure up just to see him.

“Both,” you decide. You nestle your cheek against his shoulder, eyes slipping shut. “If we stay long enough, we can do both.”

A guaranteed, precious few hours with him all to yourself. Your stomach squirms. You blame it on the feeling of his cum slipping out of you, pretend that your affection isn't burning you up from the inside.

Lighter shifts to kiss he crown of your head. His hand trails a lazy path against your arm, fingers warm, comfortable against your skin, his touch so different from the way he had pressed against you moments before.

One of these days you were going to get this man into a proper goddamn bed, but you'd settle for malapropisms until the time came.

[cheegu3]

Hi there! I love your new piece on tbz new 🔥 can I request a jealous yandere non con (or dubcon) smut with enhypen sunghoon? Perhaps he can be a prince and y/n a maid. As for the premise, it could be him harboring interest in you despite already being bethroted to another princess and you never returning as much as even a glance. It all kind of exploded when he saw you hanging out and laughing with the gardener (who was your childhood friend). It riled him so much to see you not only talk but laugh with someone as lowly as a gardener and yet spare not even a glance towards a royalty like him. And so he drags yn to his chambers, hoping to seduce yn and when failed proceeded to eff the hell out of her for hours. Thank you in advance 😸

hi, thank u sm, also sorry for the wait! I LOVE this idea ur a genius are u kidding???

I love prince fics & I got super invested pls ;-; in honor of their amazing comeback <3 I did do a little twist tho based on your prompt, I hope that was okay c:

warnings; non-con / dub-con, yandere themes, self victim-blaming, mentions of hanging & bones, possessiveness & jealousy, sexual content, swearing, non-con kissing, sunghoon being super pushy; sexual harassment & mentions of it, misogynistic undertones, allusions to baby trapping, sickness, wrong use of royal terms

pairing; sunghoon x f.m reader

wc; 3.8k

prince!sunghoon - mine only

Sunghoon hated any other girl but you. Any time he laid his eyes on them, he was filled with such disgust he couldn't help but let show on his face. His delicate features, the ones fitting of a prince, twisted into the most cruel face as his mood soured the longer he was forced to look at them.

His lips curled in spite. But then a small movement would cause his gaze to shift, to you. The change in softness didn't go unnoticed by the others in the room. They shifted uncomfortably, hoping the king and queen hadn't noticed who their little prince was really in love with.

You cleared your throat and mentally prepared yourself, hands hovering near the curtains. One last glance at the sleeping man in the bed was made before you dragged them to the side.

''Good morning, sir. ''

Despite the cold winter weather outside, bright sunlight streamed in through the wide windows, casting a big glow on his face. He fluttered his eyes open slowly, blinking as you became clearer in his view.

He closed them again, and you grimaced as he smirked, you were his favorite maid. He felt happy that his parents had noticed that at least. Even if they didn't notice how obviously deep his feelings for his little maid actually went.

'' Good morning, '' he mumbled, his voice raspy from sleep.

You went over to the dresser and pulled out his clothes for the day which you placed on a stool. Then you turned the tap on in the bath and hurried towards the door.

But like always, he was quicker than you. In an instant, he had jumped to his feet and ended up between you and the door.

'' Where are you going? ''

You swallowed down your irritation. '' Sir, you do not need me to help you bathe. ''

You sounded formal, and your words were polite, which always made him smile in amusement. But there was an edge to your voice. Quite admittedly, you were sick of him playing this game every single morning and also the other games he'd try with you ever since he seemed to have taken a special interest in you.

The other maids fawned over him, they would've done anything to be in your place now. You had taken the job out of absolute necessity, with your mom being sick and your siblings too young, you desperately needed money.

You had tried to keep your head down and not catch any attention. However, it seemed that those who tried not to get noticed always did.

'' But I do, '' he said slyly. '' You wouldn't want me to go to my mother now, would you? ''

There it was, the threat that always came after you defied his wishes. You had a hard time hiding your true feelings, somehow especially in front of him. His eyes flitted over to your clenched fists; you had to dig your nails into your palms for you to hold yourself back.

'' No, sir. Of course not. ''

He nodded, like the thing had been settled peacefully, and then walked over to the now full bath. You flinched away when he casually took off his only clothing and slipped in.

You inhaled shakily. With wobbly legs, you kneeled at the bath, trying not to make eye contact with him. You could feel his predator-like eyes on you, practically could vision the satisfied look on his face too.

Rapt knocks on the door followed by the shrill voice of his mother saved you. '' Sunghoon! You need to hurry, we have guests arriving soon! ''

You looked down into your lap where you had busied your hands by rolling up and then flattening your maid dress and smiled to yourself. You didn't really care if he saw it, if anything you wished he would so he could see that not everyone was so eager to be in the presence of the beautiful prince.

He rolled his eyes but managed to answer his mom in a normal tone. '' Almost done. ''

You got up and felt light on your feet when you laid out the bathrobe and moved the clothes near the bathtub. He'd be busy today. You weren't sure if that was the reason his mood all of a sudden soured, or if it was because of what he was doing today.

'' No need to look so happy just yet. I'll still have you all evening. ''

Your face fell, which only made him light up again. He chuckled and got out, draping the bathrobe around his broad shoulders.

For some reason, he paused before getting his clothes on. You felt your stomach turn even though you had no idea what he was thinking of.

But you found out soon enough when he pushed the robe off again and looked at the towels stuffed under the basin. You met eyes with him, and he had to bite his lip to stop himself from sneering out in the open.

'' Dry me. ''

'' What? '' you gasped.

He had never asked you to do that before. Even though he was generally horrible and extremely annoying, this was taking it a step too far; judging by his face, he knew that too.

There was no way you could refuse a prince however, so you pulled yourself together and approached him, your hands crinkling the towel.

You turned him around and lightly dragged it over his back. Your eyes met in the mirror above the basin and you quickly looked away when he turned to you.

At the speed of light, you dragged it over his chest and arms and then crouched down, your head turned towards the ground with cheeks red in humiliation while you dried his legs.

You got up, hoping he hadn't seen your embarrassment, and turned away as he finally pulled his clothes on, being able to take the breath you'd been holding in at last.

'' Your Highness? '' another voice came by the door, it sounded like one of the other maids.

'' Coming, '' he rolled his eyes.

You felt like you had been saved by him being in a hurry, instead of stalling he walked right out without playing with you any longer. Outside, two other maids, one guard, and his mother stood, all looking stressed and impatient.

'' They are already here, '' his mother leaned in to whisper panicked.

You walked at the very back but still got a good look at the guests she had been referring to. A beautiful young girl who seemed to be about your age stood between an older male and female, presumably her parents.

Your eyes went over all of them, and from their good looks to their straight postures and the fine material of their clothes, anyone could tell that they were noble born just like the royal family.

One of the younger maids told you that they were another royal family and that they had traveled far to see if Mr. Park was a good match for their princess daughter.

Having heard this, you studied the young girl again. Her attention seemed to be fixed on Sunghoon while the parents exchanged some stiff, small talk.

This day in particular had been set up for them to go over all of the necessary things while the princess and the prince got to know each other, of course while being chaperoned.

Luck was only partly on your side today. You could already feel intuitively who he'd pick before he even turned to you, that sneer on his perfect lips again.

The other maids patted your back, saying it was an honor but you had to bite down the sour expression that wanted to show and politely followed after them.

A guard walked a few paces behind you, just to make sure no harm could be done to the prince. As the pair stopped by the fish pond you found yourself bored and looked curiously at the guard.

He caught your eyes and you hurriedly looked away. However, that was all he needed. He came up to your side and joined you in leaning against the big tree.

'' Sorry, I needed a rescue. ''

You looked surprised. '' You did? ''

You somehow hadn't really thought of the grueling work the guards must do every day, only feeling quite sorry for the maids as you all were in such close contact with the royal family.

'' Long days and not much happens, '' he shrugged and looked towards Sunghoon and the princess.

'' What do you think of this union? ''

'' It's...an ideal match. Maybe not what the prince desires but if he wants to be king, he'll have to learn that he can't always have his way.''

You felt like you already knew the answer deep down, yet you still asked. '' What do you mean? What does the prince desire? ''

He turned to you. '' Surely you must know. He wants you. ''

Your breath hitched and you had to place a hand on your stomach to make yourself take a few deep breaths.

'' I-uh, '' you cringed.

What was there to say to that? You could deny it even if it was obvious, but what was the point in doing that?

'' Why? '' was what you settled on at last, it was something you had wondered for a really long time.

The guard chuckled and looked down at the frost-covered ground, then he gestured towards them.

'' See that girl? ''

'' The princess? Yeah, '' you laughed in disbelief.

'' How do you think she feels about our prince? Just by looking at her.''

You focused on the princess for a moment. She was smiling and laughing loudly. Her heart-eyes rarely left him, even when silence passed between them.

'' She...likes him. Finds him attractive and charming, I guess. ''

He hummed, '' That's exactly why. ''

You knitted your eyebrows and chewed on your lip slightly as a frown formed while looking at him. He could tell that you didn't get it.

'' But you're not like that, are you? ''

Your lips parted in surprise. He liked you because you didn't like him? A laugh slipped out.

'' That doesn't really make any sense. ''

The guard crossed his arms across his chest and shook his head firmly. He was still watching the pair who had made their way onto the dock now.

'' He's attracted to her too, '' you added, observing him as well.

'' No. It's different. Men like our prince, they are used to getting what they want. All their life has been pretty much nothing but sweet, and girls have been throwing themselves at his feet, ready to do anything.''

'' Is that so bad? '' you said silently.

'' Well, I suppose one downside with being a prince is that you get bored pretty quickly. It's human nature to like working for things before we achieve them too, is it not? ''

You looked from the guard to the prince again and gasped when you realized he was staring right at you now.

'' It's not fun having everything you want, it gets boring very fast. I think our prince is like that especially, he likes the thrill of chasing. ''

You listened to what he was saying but it became more muffled while the prince was staring you down. His lips curled in disgust and you felt uneasy. This feeling doubled when he started moving towards the tree you were standing against.

'' As my guard, it is your job to keep me safe, '' he sounded very angry, his jaw was tense and his narrowed eyes were shaking.

'' Your highness- ''

'' What if I had gotten assassinated right then as I was standing on the dock! '' he screamed, making both of you flinch.

'' But, your highness- ''

'' Someone could have snuck up behind and I would've died immediately. It would have been your fault. All because instead of doing what you were told to, you were flirting with the maid. One of my maids! ''

The emphasis on '' my '' maid, made your eyes widen. This passionate outburst was very much due to jealousy, and suddenly, you found yourself terrified for what would happen to the guard now.

An awkward and tense silence fell over the group. The princess craned her neck on the dock to try and see what was going on while Sunghoon was locked in a staring match with the poor guard, it almost looked like they were fighting for dominance.

Eventually, the guard had to give in. Otherwise, he'd lose his job. He unfolded his arms and let them fall to his side, straightening his posture simultaneously.

'' I apologize, your highness. It won't happen again. ''

Sunghoon snickered, then went deadly serious again. '' I know it won't. ''

You sensed the threat in his voice and cleared your throat which immediately made his eyes throw daggers at you. He didn't want you to butt in but you felt like you had to, this was your fault as much as his.

'' Forgive me, your highness. ''

He ticked his tongue in annoyance.

'' It's not his fault, I was- '' however, you stopped here, not sure how you were going to finish the sentence.

'' You will get repercussions too, just you wait. ''

This was the last thing he said before returning to the dock next to the princess. He didn't look nearly as happy as she did. Before, he'd likely faked it out of politeness but it seemed the whole altercation had spoiled his mood and drained his energy.

The princess' smile faded when he didn't return her warm energy and chirpy mood again, and you felt bad for her. There were maybe more pressing matters at hand, like how the prince would punish you but all you could do now though was push that to the back of your mind.

'' It will do us no good to be scared, '' the guard echoed your thoughts.

You stiffly nodded, almost unnoticeable in case Sunghoon's hawk eyes happened to land on you again.

Despite the conversation dying down, the pair stood at the dock for a few more minutes before the prince turned and took the lead into the gardens.

You thought that he was going to show her the beautiful zen part of it at the back where he often spent time. Anxiously you watched as he bent down and whispered something in her ear. He then came over to you again.

'' Let's go. ''

You didn't dare ask where. He glanced at the guard too, so he followed closely behind. Despite your lack of questions however, you quickly got a sense of where you were going when he turned down the hallway that was rarely used.

He pried the rusty door open and walked first down the stone stairs, which echoed every step off the walls. You and the guard shared a look of horror. Before Sunghoon would get impatient, you hurried down after him.

But when he turned he ignored you, instead fixing his attention on the guard. A single jail cell in the royal family's dungeons stood open.

You felt your stomach turn upon seeing the mossy skull at the corner of it and the unwelcoming wet, cold cobble floor. It didn't even have a bed.

'' Get in, '' he jerked his head to the jail cell.

'' And me? '' your voice broke.

'' Oh, you won't be hanged like him, darling. Don't worry. ''

You weren't so sure that was a good thing. He had a glint in his eyes that made you consider squeezing into the jail cell with the guard; maybe even dropping to your knees and begging him to leave you down there.

Whatever it was, it wasn't good, you thought as he locked the jail cell. The guard gave you a sad smile that he looked like he had to force, but he didn't look scared, even when he knew he was dying.

'' I'm sorry, '' you pitifully whispered to him when Sunghoon's hand wrapped around your upper arm as he started dragging you up to the surface again.

'' I know, '' he softly said, his tone melancholy.

You weren't sure if you had imagined it, but you winced and inhaled sharply. The feeling of his nails digging into your skin had overcome you suddenly. Yet Sunghoon looked at you perplexed when you threw him a glare.

At the surface, you could barely register where you were going. The sharp turns made you feel extremely disoriented and almost nauseous. You wondered why he was in such a rush.

In the end, when the world stopped spinning at last, you blinked and noticed that you were in Sunghoon's bedchamber again.

'' Why have you taken me here? ''

He snickered. '' You know I don't want to marry the princess, don't you? ''

You shifted uncomfortably and swallowed down the lump that was beginning to form in your throat.

'' Yes, sir. ''

'' Well, '' he took a step toward you, and reacting automatically, so did you.

You felt the edge of the bed press into the back of your thighs. He had purposefully pushed you in that direction. The prince gave you a cruel smirk and then dragged the curtains shut. The feeling of unease only doubled, you were starting to feel sick for real now.

'' Who do you think I want to marry, miss? ''

You grimaced. '' I don't know, your highness. ''

His arrogance faded, replaced with anger at you addressing him like the other workers again. Any time you did that, it was like a slap in the face, reminding him of your difference in ranks; of how you could never be, of how, he could never get what he really wanted.

But not today, and not from today forward.

Sunghoon pushed you down so easily with just two mocking fingers to your chest, so you were sitting on the edge of the bed.

'' You. '' his voice shook, sending shivers down your spine.

He double-checked that the door was closed and then began unbuttoning his dress shirt.

'' Sir? ''

You started anxiously fiddling with your hands. Was there a chance you could escape somehow while he was distracted? You eyed the door and went from looking at it to watching him with his back turned.

No, the odds didn't look good. In the time that it would take for you to run to the door, he would've already turned around. Then you would have to undo the lock and run with a good distance between him and you so he wouldn't catch you.

You sighed deeply. In an instant, he whipped around and came toward you again. '' Sorry to keep you waiting, princess. ''

Princess? What game was he playing now?

You frowned and pushed yourself further back on the bed by your forearms. Only a few seconds later, he loomed over you again, like a magnet attached to you.

Recognizing the look in his eyes, you already knew what was coming. There was a small voice in your head that told you not to fight it, it would hurt even more if you did. But there was also another voice, an irreparable sadness, because you had always feared this, and now it was happening.

You couldn't help but blame yourself. You knew how sensitive and brutal he could be, you should've done anything in your power to not upset him so it wouldn't have come to this. Sometimes you wondered if he had done this to the young female workers that came before you. No one had answered when you asked, yet, how could you not fear the worst when they left his company in tears?

You laid down and didn't move, just letting him slip your clothes off while you tried to think of something else. His hands were cold, like a corpse, it felt fitting somehow.

When his fingers grazed your underwear you sucked in air through your teeth.

'' Do you have to do this? I don't want to. ''

He already had an answer prepared, a perfect and tempting answer, most likely prepared beforehand, or perhaps reused from another time.

'' Don't you want to live a better life? A life in luxury? In happiness?'' he sat up and straddled you for a moment, out of breath due to excitement. '' Think of your family, what my riches could do to them. ''

' Do to them. ' That was the problem, he always did things to people, never for them. You smiled bitterly.

Tears prickled your eyes and this time the lump in your throat felt too big to swallow. You tried not to, but as soon as he mentioned your family you pictured them in your mind. Your sick mother, gasping for breath, your younger siblings in whose eyes you could sometimes detect hatred.

Hatred because mother wasn't getting better. They knew that you were responsible for her, and no matter what you did, your pay wasn't enough to make her better, so they blamed you for it.

You sniffled and turned your head away from him. He turned you back to him immediately.

'' Don't you want that, my love? ''

'' How would you do that? ''

He snickered. Had you fallen for his trap so easily?

'' There are a lot of options. I can kill my parents and become king, and then no one can tell me who I can or cannot marry. ''

Your mouth fell open. He had said it so casually, so callously.

'' Or I can threaten them, beg them to change their mind or, make you my concubine. ''

His lips lifted into a small smile. The little lighting that managed to slip in through the drawn curtains, lit up his crazed eyes that stuck out in the dark, it terrified you. Were you really sure what you were getting yourself into?

The prince moved your panties down all the way, making you let out a gasp and try to hide yourself. He wouldn't let you do that; pinching you painfully as a warning. Next, he hurried to take his own underwear off and then pinned one of your wrists down with his hand, while using his other to stroke your hair out of your face lovingly.

He dipped down and kissed you passionately and hard, knocking the air and protests out of your lungs. With your eyes being closed, he took the opportunity and parted your legs, entering you so harshly and unpreparedly that you wailed loudly.

He started moving his hips rhythmically and the pain shot up throughout your whole body. Stubbornly he pressed his lips against yours, constantly wanting to be attached to you, only stopping occasionally so you could breathe.

Your shaky whimpers were like music to his ears, and the salty tears that ran down your cheeks and were licked by him were like his own personal drug.

'' Whatever I choose, '' he panted, speaking for the first time.

His voice sent shivers down your spine again, but this time, it was fear that started to mix with pleasure. Your moan was muffled by his hungry lips.

He growled back in your ear, '' You are mine, mine only, ''

[heechwe]

Hello my love I am here to request some filth for the prompt game while spreading my sub svt agenda 😈

How about dialogue ❝ Such a good boy, always eager to please.❞ with physical prompt 13 (our muses engage in edging or orgasm denial) and location 5 (in a semi-public place)

I look forward to what you come up with darling! 💗

(That prompt list is insane btw, I have been staring at it for ages trying to decide what to actually pick, so many good options)

He may hide it on the outside, but in reality, Vernon loves to be a people-pleaser. He will do anything the people he cares for ask of him without much effort, as long as he can make those that matter to him happy and content.

Especially when it comes to you.

You're not unaccustomed to the idea of him fucking you whenever inspiration strikes. It can be in the comfort of your own shared apartment or a public bathroom, and he will do what you want with a bashful smile. Like now, his face in between your legs and capturing every drop of your essence as your legs are spread across the linoleum sink.

You just pray your friends in the living room are too drunk to care that you're being eaten out on Joshua's bathroom sink.

"Such a good boy, always eager to please," you gasp, running your fingers through his hair to keep him pressed against your heat. He continues to lick long and tentative stripes up your folds and stopping at your clit, swirling the muscle around the center of your nerves expertly.

He knows exactly what he needs to do—what you want him to do—without prompting. All he responds with is a loving smile before he dives back in, hungry for your orgasm as much as you are.

No matter what, he will always strive to be the perfect partner.

hosting a drabble game; come request one!🤍

[spanktony]

SUNDAY MORNINGS - huh yunjin

summary: a sunday morning with your girlfriend.

words: 1.1k+

warnings: established!relationship, kissing, fake dutch ovening yunjin lmao, gn!reader

notes: first time writing for yunjin so plz request for more. i also need to make a masterlist ik ik

navigation. request.

sunday mornings were always peaceful, it was the only days both you and yunjin’s schedules collided. the only days where you could wake up and the space next to you be warm.

letting out a soft yawn, you stretch your legs under the blankets, careful not to disturb her. turning your head, you catch a glimpse of yunjin’s serene face, her lashes resting delicately against her cheeks as she slept. her arm was draped over your waist, as if even in her dreams, she didn’t want to let you go.

the morning light spilled softly into the room, highlighting the stray strands of her messy hair and the faint curve of her lips. you couldn’t help but smile, your heart swelling at the sight of her so peaceful and close.

you don’t know how long you were staring until a loud ringing jolted you from the quiet moment. your phone, buzzing insistently on the nightstand, shattered the peaceful stillness of the room. yunjin stirred beside you, her brows furrowing as a soft groan escaped her lips.

you quickly grabbed the phone, silencing the intrusive noise with a few swipes. setting it back down, you glanced at yunjin, who was already peeking up at you through sleepy eyes.

“sorry,” you whispered, brushing a stray strand of hair from her face.

she shook her head with a small smile and tightened her arm around your waist. “it’s okay,” she murmured, her voice soft and laced with sleep.

“you were snoring,” you teased, a playful smirk tugging at your lips.

yunjin’s eyes narrowed as she let out a soft gasp, feigning offense. “i do not snore!”

“you do,” you insisted, biting back a laugh. “it’s kind of cute, though.”

“cute?” she huffed, her cheeks tinting a faint pink as she buried her face back into your shoulder. “you’re lucky i love you, or i’d kick you out of bed.”

you laughed softly, wrapping your arms around her as she grumbled into your skin.

“have you heard of a dutch oven?” you mumbled, slowly slipping away from your girlfriend’s grasps. her eyebrows furrow in response, and it looks like she’s digging in the back of her mind to figure out what you meant.

you can't help but chuckle at her confused expression.

“a dutch oven?” she repeated, her voice muffled against your shoulder. “is that some kind of cooking technique?”

you shake your head, still smiling. “no, it’s... well, it’s when you trap someone under the blankets and—”

her eyes widen in realization, and she pulls back to give you a mock glare. “you wouldn’t dare!”

“wouldn’t i?” you tease, inching closer to the edge of the bed, plotting your playful attack.

yunjin’s laughter bubbles up, brightening the room even more than the morning light. “you’re terrible!”

“that’s rude to say!” you joke, feigning seriousness as you inch closer to her, the blankets shifting ominously.

yunjin squints at you, her mock glare transforming into a playful smirk. “you wouldn’t. you love me too much.”

“that’s debatable,” you tease, wiggling your eyebrows as you make an exaggerated motion of lifting the blankets.

her gasp is dramatic, but her laughter spills out uncontrollably. “no! please!” she cries, trying to wiggle away, but you’re faster.

in one swift move, you trap the both of you under the blankets, the muffled giggles and exaggerated complaints, and the unmistakable sound of your fake fart noises.

“ew! stop!” yunjin shrieks, her voice high-pitched as she dissolves into laughter. “you’re so gross!”

you release the blankets, letting them fall back down as you laugh at the girl under you. “i wasn’t actually farting!”

yunjin’s hand doesn’t move from blocking her nostrils, her face scrunched up in a way that only makes her look even cuter.

plopping back down next to her, you let out a tired sigh content with the warmth and peace.

yunjin moves her arm to rest on your stomach, a comfortable silence settling between the two of you. you turn your head to look at her, the soft curve of her lips, her eyes locked with yours.

it felt right. everything about her felt right. the two of you lay like that for a while, just enjoying the peace, the soft sounds of the other breathing. your fingers find their way to her hair, brushing the soft strands from her face. her eyes flutter shut at the contact, her head moving closer to your hand.

after a moment, yunjin speaks up. her voice is barely a whisper, as if afraid that speaking louder would break the perfect moment.

“i would kiss you but morning breath.” snickering, you reach over towards your nightstand, trying not to leave her embrace as you grab a pack of mints. your hands knock over your keys and probably a few other items you placed on there the night before.

yunjin's soft laugh is enough for you to keep rummaging until you find what you were looking for.

finally, you pull out the small pack of mints, holding it up triumphantly. wiggling your eyebrows, you shake the pack gently.

yunjin raises an eyebrow, her lips twitching into a playful smile. “you’re really prepared for everything, huh?”

“yep,” you reply, popping one into your mouth before offering the pack to her. she takes one, sitting up slightly as she does, her hair falling messily around her shoulders.

after a moment of dramatic chewing, she leans closer, her lips brushing yours softly. the kiss is gentle, warm, and unhurried, a perfect match for the lazy sunday morning.

before you pull apart, she begins to chase your lips, as if trying to draw out the kiss. you can't help but laugh, leaning back, your lips stretching into a grin.

yunjin pouts, her brows furrowing in mock frustration as you lean away. “hey,” she grumbles.

“hm?” you reply with a smirk, reaching up to tuck a stray strand of her hair behind her ear. “i gave you one kiss, and now you’re greedy.”

she huffs, crossing her arms but unable to hide the smile creeping onto her lips. “can you blame me?” she asks, tilting her head slightly.

you laugh, shaking your head as you lean back down beside her. “fine, come here,” you say, pulling her close again. she doesn’t hesitate, wrapping her arms around you and pressing another quick, playful kiss to your lips.

“see?” she whispers against your mouth. “not greedy. just appreciative.”

the two of you dissolve into quiet laughter, her head falling back to rest against your shoulder. you can feel the steady rise and fall of her breathing as the peaceful silence returns, broken only by the faint rustling of the blankets.

[anglerflsh]

both tumblr and twitter dot com insist on showing me iwtv content girl cease this immediately I have seen that blonde man Enough okay. I'm going to eat him

[daincrediblegg]

personally I think the best thing that the joker sequel did for me was expose the exact degree to which how much of internet/public criticism is not based on genuine analysis of the content using social and cultural resources to support an actual argument but is actually adult children whining because someone took their batman toys and put them up on a high shelf for once and they, as a consumer, feel like they're entitled to throw a tantrum about it

[sezija]

Ok i think i’m actually going insane not talking abt this so fuck it

Dragonwalker Hiccup AU

My fic of it, set during HTTYD1; basically just a prologue

Ramblings underneath (like, a lot. i’m warning you.)

So basically, Dragonwalkers are humans who, when they fall asleep, turn into dragons. Just go watch Wolfwalkers actually it’s a very good movie and the concept is very hard to put into words, i’ve found.

Anyway; thoughts. Many MANY of them. :)

Valka’s had her dragon form (a night fury) her whole life, and lived on an island w her family AND a family of Night Furies. (Night Furies live in family packs, w the parents leading/raising/teaching their children (they only have 1 egg at a time, and only lay up to 3 in their whole life) until they’re old enough to get their own mate and start their own pack. (When a Night Fury pair’s children all have left and started their own families, they will sometimes join their children’s packs since they can’t hunt and fight on their own that well as they get older.))

And bc thw sucks and Grimmel, a man who is still alive, somehow killing off an entire species of dragons is stupid, i’m using my sibling’s idea, which is that Grimmel’s family has been hunting Night Furies for generations. It’s a family tradition basically, tracking and killing them until none are left. (And every person in his family has been killed by Night Furies, further motivating them.)

So Valka’s family (dragon&dragonwalker) were all killed, and only she escaped, ending up on Berk. Fell in love w Stoick, tried to make the vikings stop killing the dragons, was taken by Cloudjumper, the usual. She reunites with Hiccup early, during RTTE, just bc i want them to kick dragon hunter ass together. The war w Drago happens later.

Also i’m completely discarding the whole “king of all dragons” thing, it doesn’t fit w how i want this world to feel. Also toothless sucked as Alpha, i dont want that. And what i’ve always liked abt the HTTYD dragons is that they’re animals. The whole “king of all dragons” kinda,,, ruins that. So that’s also gone now.

I’ve been having a lot of thoughts abt how dragon flocks/packs/pods work, and these are my current ideas;

A “Flock” is a group of dragons of different species, under the control/protection of an Alpha (the Red Death’s flock, (Valka’s) Bewilderbeast’s flock, that one flock of dragons in RTTE s2e8-9 “Edge of Disaster”)

A “Pack” is a group of dragons of the same species, under the control/protection of a leader/queen/etc. etc. (speed stingers, fire worms, terrible terrors, (night furies in this AU))

A “Pod” is the same as a Pack, except for Tidal-class dragons specifically (a pod of seashockers, scauldrons, etc.)

The whole franchise is very inconsistent abt this so i’m working w what i have ok

The “Great Beyond” was separated from Berk/Berserkers/etc. by a heavy wall of fog all around them. There were some spots you could cross, used by traders and such, but the rest of the world has stayed pretty separated from this one corner of the world that experiences Dragon Raids.

However, after the Red Death’s demise, the fog has been slowly dissipating, allowing more to cross over; this way, the riders taking hours and hours of exhausting flight to reach “the great beyond” AND Gobber somehow making his way to Dragon’s Edge on a small, rickety boat both make sense; the more time passes, the easier it is to cross.

A lot of the conflict in the series comes from the human characters not understanding why the dragons are doing something, so giving Hiccup the ability to communicate with them takes away a lot of it, which i’m not happy abt bc it means i need to come up w my own stuff >:( (communicating w the dragons is actually kinda difficult in human form, since his hearing isn’t good enough to hear a fair amount of their vocalizations, and his throat isn’t made for producing those sounds.)

Anyway, my thoughts have been specifically focused on one episode of RTTE, my favourite one since i first saw it, up there w Dire Straits and Enemy of my Enemy; s3e8 “Stryke Out”.

In this AU, hiccup is taken by dragon hunters in his dragon form, taken to a dragon fighting ring. He’s worth a lot to them, being a Night Fury (this is what the art at the top of the post is depicting). He’s caged up for a few weeks until the news of a Night Fury in the ring spread enough, and he has to start fighting. The Riders figure out where he is due to these rumours, and interrupt his fight with the Triple Stryke 3 days into him being forced to fight the other dragons, the same day Ryker came to collect his cut of the money again.

Anyway, that’s all i rly wanted to get out rn. Just. Obsessed. Hiccup becoming crueler and much less forgiving towards dragon hunters after this experience. He’s seen their cruelty many times before, but being caged and muzzled and forced to hurt other dragons if he wants to live, dependant on them for food, even for the capability to eat it, bc of the hook they put in his mouth, really just... changes him. God i love torturing my faves <3

He would take the Dragon Fliers&their Singetails so personally here.

anyway, art;

(i forgot to add his chin scar in many of these oof)

[sagurus]

I'm excited we're getting more magic kaito but I also have this suspicion things are going to be introduced that I'm just going to. ignore. But also maybe not! Who knows!

[mostly-natm]

To avoid rapidly approaching burnout, I’m going to relax tonight and just color lineart I did last night!

[angorwhosebabyisthis]

[cws: starvation/food insecurity, fantasy racism, psychiatric abuse, ableism, and Upsetting Pictures.]

-

one thing that fucks me up immensely about pericles before and after the asylum is how fucking skinny he is.

like. as much as obviously the two designs are Very Inconsistent in general which annoys me, look at him pre-timeskip. look at how he's shaped.

his head and face are way smoother and rounder, both in front and back, and the space between his cheekbones and his eyebrow ridge is filled in; his body is rounder in general and his belly is noticeably between his thighs when he's standing up; he has kind of a chubby butt; his chin and neck are softer and wider around, which you can really see with the width of the scarf compared to his shoulders and the angle where it meets his head. it comes up in front of his face more because there's not as much of an angle with his chin to hold it down.

now. compare all those things to this.

christ.

and like, you could argue some of these design differences are tiny things to zero in on in a show that's as loose with its models as sdmi is. but present-day pericles' design is pretty obviously supposed to be unsettling because he's physically built to be a Cute Roumb Little Mascot Creature--so much so that the framework has managed to stick around a little in spite of everything--and has become gaunt and haggard anyway. and you could also argue that the body type changes are just thanks to aging twenty years (and i don't doubt that's contributed).

except. he spent those twenty years in an asylum where the other inmates we see look like this.

christ.

(fun little fact that @thecottageinthedark pointed out also: remember how he literally got caught at one point because he couldn't stop eating sunflower seeds, even during a heist? a high-fat, high-calorie snack for birds? you know, exactly the kind of thing a starving person who finally has proper access to food would be wolfing down?)

(yeah.)

did i mention that this happened in a (fantasy) racially segregated prison, which is technically an asylum so the inmates can be kept there indefinitely, because in an actual prison you're required to have a sentence? did i mention that none of the human characters we see in human prison look any less healthy during or afterward, and on top of that are allowed to move around and socialize? did i mention the absolutely horrific treatment of the asylum inmates is implied to be despite the fact that the (physically abusive!) guard is playing up how dangerous and malicious they are? (you know. except for pericles 🙃)

did i mention the man who got pericles imprisoned--who he had not only done nothing to beforehand, but had helped--says he was there to 'live out the rest of his miserable parrot life in a cage, where he belonged,' and not only do none of the characters we're supposed to side with have anything to say about that, but the audience is clearly supposed to agree with him too?

(did i mention said man--who was in on the crime, singular, that pericles went to prison for!--spends those twenty years living a life of luxury in power while abusing the child he kidnapped as a baby and held hostage his entire life, and when we see him in prison he is not only chilling out and helping the authorities but reading a newspaper?)

did i mention the part where by the time we meet pericles he hasn't spoken in years?

like. man the 'ooooo scary evil abused asylum crazies' trope is bad enough, even when they pretend to lampshade it for a minute before playing it straight; i don't know how they added in All That and made him emaciated and expected no one to find it heartbreaking or even sympathetic. i don't care how bad he was before the asylum (and dear god was he ever), that is horrifying and no one deserves it. god damn.

[starryluminary]

The only downside of rewriting world tour is that now I like Sierra. Love her even. But not canon Sierra, no no no. That Sierra sucks now and forever. The Sierra I love is specifically the version of Sierra I’ve written. The Sierra with depth and who faces consequences for her actions.

If I had a nickel for every time I’ve rewritten a story and grew to love a character I previously hated in the process, I’d have two nickels. Which isn’t a lot but it’s weird it happened twice!!

[volturiprincess]

Tell me why I'm working on three one-shots with different genres? (well kind of more that three but I'm mostly putting more energy on three) One happens to be smut related (it was going to be more of a scary but thrilling kind of thing but i changed my mind once I thought about it more) , another about ghostface and the third one is angsty. My mind cannot stay on one thing for long so thats why I kind of work on multiple things at once to keep my mind going and to keep it stimulated. I also happen to be writing notes for a class too😁. As my masterlist says "Welcome to my delusional mind💙".

[heartbeatbookclub]

i feel like people forget exactly how on the nose the title "Doki Doki Literature Club!" is on terms of branding itself as a schlock ass japanese visual novel

like i feel like people get distracted by the obvious effort and actual quality that went into ddlc, they went super hard on the branding in that sense otherwise

[3416]

thinking about "mitch will assault me if i don't pick him" again.... i circle back to it all the time but it's like..... auston KNOWS how he feels about being left out and will always tease him for it but ALSO wouldn't dream of not including him anyway ...as if it were a given that mitch will always be his pick.......... his face when he says it too. i will never get over how relaxed he seems and i will NEVER stop wanting the mitch and auston leaf to leaf we are OWED. it is so long overdue, how do the leafs not understand this

[eff-plays]

any Astarion fic recs??

I don't really read fic, unforch. I've only recently started writing it myself. Fanfic reading has never been a part of my participation in fandom. Mainly because I have incredibly sensitive "he would not say that" antennae. They twitch and tremble at the slightest thing.

Which is a bad thing, mind you. I am aware of it. But as someone with chronic writer brain, whenever something doesn't fit my particular made up scenarios, I go "no this is incorrect." This isn't a slight against the fanfic writers out there, I just have brainworms.

I do read a lot of like headcanon compilation thingies. Some short drabbles about my favorite scenes. None have stuck with me so far, but if one does, I'll make sure to reblog it, and that'll functionally be a rec.

Sorry for the disappointing answer! :')