#how to bring love back into a relationship

[trashytracktales]

hey gurlll first thing first id like to say that im IN LOVE with ur fics. not to be dramatic but im seriously on my knees whenever u post bcs how do u write them so GOODD😭😭😭😭 so i have a request hehe🤭 u can totally ignore this. no pressure!

if u would consider this, hear me out. lando and reader are childhood best friends. they are like two peas in a pot but something made them fought (nothing specific, u can write anything!) that had them not talking for almost 6 months which never happens. since they have the same circle of friends, they got invited to a vacation in portugal. the tension between them is like WOW. then one night, when everyone was already asleep, they had another argument maybe make it like an angry confession that leads them to ANGSTY HOT LONGING YEARNING MINDBLOWING SEX but turns out it was one sided where reader kinda disappeared the next morning lol idk u can imagine the rest. OK THANKS LOVE YA💋

Not quite us | LN⁴

🛥 summary ──── A cold winter fight shatters their friendship, but it’s the heat of the Portuguese sun that brings them back together, months later.

🛥 pairing ──── Lando Norris x fem best friend!reader

🛥 rating ──── explicit

🛥 warnings ──── 18+, mature/sexual content, descriptive language, mentions of drinking, angst and emotional tension, arguments, swearing, jealousy, smut, unprotected sex, manhandling, passive-aggressive behavior, pining, emotional miscommunication, past relationship dynamics.

🛥 word count ──── 8.6k

🛥 date ──── Apr. 23, 2025

🛥 a/n ──── Wrote this one straight off the vibes, just went with the flow and let the request guide me here and there. Sometimes the chaos cooks itself, so I hope you guys enjoy it either way ♥︎

IT’S NEW YEAR’S, and Lando would have a lot more fun if he stopped looking across the room every twenty seconds. But he can’t help himself. If someone looked at him right now, it would be so easy to read it in his body language: he is exasperated, beyond frustrated, and maybe a little drunk. His fingers encircle his glass so tightly that his knuckles have turned white, and his jaw clenches every time he sees the way she flinches when her boyfriend talks back to her.

Suddenly, the music gets too loud, the champagne is too warm, and even if he’s trying his damn hardest to pretend otherwise, his night is completely ruined.

She’s sitting on the edge of a sectional couch with her phone clutched in one hand, refusing to look up at her man, her face carefully blank in a way that screams something is wrong. All it takes is a blink of an eye and he walks towards the exit, visibly annoyed, leaving her behind.

Lando frowns while taking another sip of his drink, forcing a smile as one of his friends says something he doesn’t quite register. Still, he nods along anyway. But all he can think about is her. The girl he’s known since he was seven years old. The one who always matched his chaotic energy. The only one who managed to beat him at Mario Kart and made fun of his haircuts and once almost peed herself laughing during a round of mini golf when they were thirteen.

His best friend.

Or at least, she used to be.

It has been different for a while. They only see each other at events now, like birthday parties and New Year’s gatherings. It sucks, but it’s better than not seeing her at all.

It started shifting the day she met her boyfriend — some guy from uni, older than her, quieter, a bit too polished for Lando’s liking. She said he made her feel seen. Lando didn’t say anything then, just nodded, smiled and pretended he wasn’t dying a little inside.

He told himself he was just being protective, but truth is, he never liked the guy. Something about him felt off, and Lando noticed it in the way he was too controlling and dismissive at times. But Lando had no proof, therefore, no real reason to speak up. So, he stayed quiet. Let the distance grow. Let the invites slow. Let her disappear into another life that didn’t include him the way it used to.

There are a few minutes left until midnight, and he’s still watching her. She smoothes her dress with the palm of her hand, breathes slowly a few times, then gets up from the couch, apologizing with a small smile every time she bumps into other people in her path. Then, she disappears down the hallway, shoulders hunched, phone still in her hand. Her head is down, like she’s trying to avoid any potential encounter. At that sight, something in Lando twists and, for a moment, he thinks she’s going after her boyfriend, his body instinctively tensing. But he relaxes when he realizes she’s just turned right instead, stepping out onto the balcony.

Without thinking, he sets his empty glass down and slips away from the crowd, past the streamers and glitter and flickering lights, heading in the same direction she went. It doesn’t surprise him when he finds her deep in thought, typing on her phone then shoving it angrily into her purse.

Her back is facing him, arms folded over the railing now, the cold air nipping at her exposed shoulders. She must be freezing, but she doesn’t seem to mind. She’s also not turning when she hears more steps, then the door closing.

She lets out a breath, but it’s not relief. More like she’s trying not to cry. “Hey, Lan.”

She doesn’t need to turn around to know it’s him. They’ve spent so much time in each other’s company that she’s memorized his footsteps, the sound of his sigh and the hesitation in his voice before he speaks whenever he’s unsure of his words.

Lando pauses a few feet behind her, careful, like he’s afraid she’ll shatter if he’s too loud. “You alright?”

Without waiting for her to answer, Lando just shrugs off his jacket and drapes it over her shoulders from behind. The girl stiffens for a second, then lets his scent settle around her like a familiar comfort.

She knows things that no one knows about him, like the way his laugh changes depending on who he’s with, but the real one, the high-pitched one that sounds like a hyena giving birth, only comes out when he’s with his friends. She can tell when he’s nervous just by the way he starts tapping his fingers against his thigh. She knows he prefers sleeping with the fan on, even during the winter, that he can’t eat spicy food without tearing up, and that he pretends to like certain people just to keep the peace.

Her best friend.

Or at least, he used to be.

“He left,” she finally says, her voice just a whisper.

Lando moves to stand beside her, copying her posture. “What happened?”

“He said he was going home, but I don’t know.”

He blinks, confused. “Midnight’s in, like… five minutes?”

She shrugs, wiping under her eye with a knuckle, trying to be discreet. “Yeah, well. Apparently I was laughing too loud and drinking too much and fooling around. I was embarrassing him. So he left.”

Lando stares at her, stunned. “It’s a party. What the fuck is he expecting you to do? Sit quietly in the corner and sip water?”

Her laugh is short and sad around the edges, “No, but I know he doesn’t like it when I’m loud or hyper or… whatever.”

There’s a long pause in which she reconsiders her behavior, thinking that maybe her boyfriend is right. Meanwhile, Lando tries to find the right words to counter every single lie that asshole has fed her, the annoyance flooding back in. He turns his head to look at her, and her profile knocks the wind out of him. Her eyes are wet and tired, like she’s trying to hold herself together for longer than just tonight.

“Don’t listen to him,” says Lando quietly, playfully bumping his shoulder against hers, “I love your loud laugh.”

She looks over at him then, a warm wave of safety covering her from head to toe, despite the cold that feels like it cuts across the skin of her face. The words settle heavy between them: I love your laugh. Not ‘it’s nice’. Not ‘it suits you’. I love it. It means more than he probably meant it to. Or maybe it means exactly what he’s never had the guts to say out loud. Until now.

Lando swallows before continuing, “I don’t get it,” he says, “You should be with someone who wants to hear you, no matter how loud or hyper you are. Who knows how lucky they are to be in your presence.” She laughs, as if dismissing his words, but Lando insists, “I’m serious. I still don’t understand why you’re with him.”

The girl lets out a shaky breath, fighting the urge to roll her eyes. “He wasn’t always like this.”

“I know.”

Lando’s answer sounds a little too sarcastic and, in response, the silence stretches between them once again. But it’s not empty this time. It’s charged. Heavy with everything they’ve never talked about, and all the months they spent apart.

She turns her eyes back to the view, but her fingers tug his jacket tighter around her body. And then, without looking at him, she speaks again, “No, you don’t. We didn’t talk much lately, so you wouldn’t know.”

Lando wastes no time, “And whose fault is it?”

She shifts her body towards him abruptly, “What is that supposed to mean?”

He shrugs. “Dunno. It was just a question.”

“Right,” she nods once. “I don’t even know why I’m talking to you about it. I guess I just… needed my friend for a minute.”

Lando nods too, and steps close enough that their arms brush. Before she can say anything else, he leans in, uncertain but determined, and wraps his arms around her. Her cheek presses against his shoulder, seeking his comfort. The only problem is that there’s nothing casual about how Lando’s heart starts to race. His arms come around her tightly, holding her like his life depends on it, even though she’s the one that’s been ditched by her boyfriend on New Year’s.

They stay like that for a while, their breaths fogging between them in the cold night air. The space they share gets warmer, which makes her snuggle into his chest. She smells like citrus and champagne and every memory he’s ever tried not to think about too hard when he was missing her.

The girl pulls back slightly, enough that her face is tilted up toward his. And when he reaches to cup her cheek, her skin is smooth beneath his palm, her lips slightly parted like she might say something, but doesn’t. They just stare at each other, the same way you only look at someone when you’ve missed them for too long, and you’re finally close enough to touch but terrified to move any further, thinking that maybe they’re not even real.

The countdown begins in the background, a little muffled through the glass door, people shouting numbers like a slow drumbeat from the inside.

Five.

Four.

Three.

Two.

“Break up with him,” Lando’s voice cuts through the haze, rougher than he intended.

One.

The cheers erupt from every direction. The sky bursts into a sea of light above them, fireworks flaring gold, silver, and pink. The noise is distant, like it’s happening on another planet. They wouldn’t know, because they don’t even look. Instead, her eyes are still searching his, confused and a little broken.

He could lean in and take it all, just this once, and blame it on the alcohol.

But she blinks, breaking the ephemeral magic of the moment. She takes a step back, then another, slow and cautious, until she’s out of his arms. “What?”

Lando doesn’t move. “You deserve better.”

“Lando…”

“No,” he shakes his head. “He treats you like shit,” his voice rises gradually, dipped in more emotion than he probably wants to show, “And I don’t know what’s worse: that you know it or that you allow it.”

She looks at him as if Lando is shapeshifting right before her eyes, and he does it far too quickly for her to have time to process.

“Stop assuming things about me,” she warns, all the warmth between them dissolving in an instant. “You don’t know.”

“I know he should’ve been here, kissing you right now. I know he made you cry instead,” he says, stepping forward, closing the distance that she put between them earlier. “I know he left you at a party alone because you were laughing too loud,” he continues, mockingly. “Do you hear how fucking ridiculous that sounds?”

Her voice is sharper next time she speaks, “You don’t know the full story, Lando. He asked me to go home with him, but—”

“I don’t care,” he interrupts her. “Looks like he ditches you whenever you’re too much for him. And I can bet this isn’t the first time he’s made you cry, is it?”

She scoffs, “Oh, so now you’re paying attention?” she asks, adopting a defensive attitude. “It’s been months since you’ve shown any interest in me.”

Lando flinches like she just slapped him. “You’re the one who stopped showing up. It’s cause you’ve gotten busier. With him, eh?”

“Smooth, Lando,” she fires back in a disappointed voice. “You pulled away first,” she reminds him, pointing a finger at his chest; tears threaten her eyes again, but she blinks rapidly to clear them away.

“Yeah, because I didn’t know where I fit anymore,” he says, his voice cracking around the edge of frustration. “You were always with him. Always defending him. I didn’t want to be that friend who hovered too close or some asshole that oversteps your boundaries. Because, believe me, I was so close to cross a lot of those before deciding to back the fuck up.”

She stares at him, incredulous, as if all the months they have been apart have completely changed her childhood best friend. “So, instead of talking to me, you just ghosted me? Very mature.”

Lando’s jaw tightens before replying, “I needed space.”

“You disappeared,” she corrects him. “You didn’t just take space. You shut me out.”

“That was me respecting your sorry ass relationship.”

“No,” she laughs dryly. “You were trying to make a point.”

Maybe, Lando thinks, looking away. But that’s not the whole truth. It’s painful, not to mention frustrating, to watch someone you care about being treated badly. It may have been selfish on his part, but Lando couldn’t stand by and watch the girl who deserved it all get only a piece of it.

“You don’t like him,” she continues, voice quieter now. “I get that. But instead of saying it, you just judged me from a distance.”

“No, I don’t like him,” he admits. “Matter of fact, I despise the guy. But not just because of who he is. It’s because he changes you.”

Her eyes narrow. “That’s not true.”

Lando laughs, but he’s not amused in the slighlest. “You went from having fun to crying in a matter of minutes. Because of him. How many times has this happened before?”

“He never—” she tries to warn him, before Lando cuts her off again.

“Keep defending him,” he says, irritated. “Because God forbid someone call you out when you’re being steamrolled by someone who doesn’t see your worth.”

“And God forbid you admit that maybe you’re not always right!” she snaps. “You don’t get to parachute in and act like some moral compass. If that’s the case, where the hell have you been all this time?”

The question silences them both. He can’t say too much without saying it all, and she’s waiting for something that won’t get to her. Not yet.

Disappointed, hurt, and extremely tired, she shrugs his jacket off and throws it at his chest. “Happy fucking New Year.”

𝟳 𝗠𝗢𝗡𝗧𝗛𝗦 𝗟𝗔𝗧𝗘𝗥

📍 Somewhere off the Algarve coast, Portugal

AFTER THE HECTIC life she’s lived in the past few months, a weeklong yacht trip along the Portuguese coast is all she needs. Blue water, rosé on deck, and most importantly, no drama.

She says yes before she even checks the guest list, but that shouldn’t be a problem. Everybody in their group knows about the social distancing between her and Lando. Plus, she always checks his calendar, keeping an eye out for the weekends he’s away, racing, meaning she can tag along without stressing that they’re going to bump into each other.

Of course, she still watches his races. Just because they stop talking that doesn’t mean she stopped caring about the dream that Lando has been striving for since childhood. That’s also why she knows that Lando will be in the UK for at least another week, as he mentioned in the post-race interview, which won’t interfere with their little getaway.

By Friday, however, things change drastically. It’s only when she’s already halfway to the marina — after spending the entire afternoon shopping with the girls — that Max texts her.

BTW, just so you’re not surprised… Lando is flying in tonight. I know things aren’t great between you two right now, but he’s still my friend as much as you are, and I didn’t wanna lie or make it weird :D

You okay?

For a moment, everything seems to slow down, including her heartbeat. All the sounds that surrounds her fade into the background, while she tries to steady herself against the sudden rush of emotions.

Is she okay? Well, for the most part yes. But that’s because she haven’t seen Lando in months. There are many ways she can react when they’ll finally be face to face again, and she can’t decide which is worse. But in the end, it doesn’t even matter, because she simply doesn’t have the time to analyze every scenario.

I’ll survive, she texts back.

She will.

She has to.

It gets dark pretty late, but the night is warm, balmy with salt and wine in the air. They decorated the boat’s upper deck with a string of lanterns, their golden glow flickering against the white hull, gently illuminating the space. The music thumps lazily from a speaker somewhere, low enough not to overwhelm the sea’s waves but steady enough to pulse through bare feet on smooth wood.

Someone’s uncorking another bottle of vinho verde, and a few of the girls are still in their swimsuits, legs tucked beneath oversized linen shirts as they lounge across sun-warmed cushions.

She’s also barefoot, her skin kissed pink from the day, a loose skirt swaying at her thighs as she spins around one of the support poles, smiling wide; she decided, hours ago, that she won’t let anything ruin her vacation. It’s the first time in months she’s felt this light, and has no intention to let the feeling be washed away by the waves of a past so distant.

Only when she realizes that she is, in fact, invincible and that nothing can shake her confidence, she hears a familiar laugh, the same one she’ll recognize anywhere. But she doesn’t turn to it immediately. Instead, her body stiffens as fast as if it’s controlled by a remote.

He’s here and, suddenly, the breeze curling in from the sea feels somehow cooler. It’s just a voice, but it’s his, and it sounds so melodic in her ears, even after all this time.

When she finally turns around, all the noise dials down.

Lando’s standing on the deck like he’s never been gone, a duffel thrown over one shoulder, his curls slightly damp from the flight or the heat or the mist. He’s in a loose, black tank top and shorts, his sneakers untied like he didn’t even bother to fix them. He’s already smiling when he sees Max coming to greet him with a drink in hand, sliding easily into hugs and handshakes. Everything is so normal that she almost rushes to the stairs to jump into his arms.

As if he hears her thinking about him, Lando looks up and their eyes catch mid-movement.

The music doesn’t stop. No one freezes. The conversation continues. And yet something just between them shifts, making Lando still for a moment. His smile falters slightly. The duffel slides off his shoulder and drops at his feet. His gaze lingers longer than it should, because he seems genuinely surprised, like he hadn’t expected her to look the way she does — lighter, freer, happier than the last time he saw her.

Like a low-budget movie, they just look at each other for a while and then, barely perceptible, Lando nods once. It is a subtle, tired gesture. Not warm, but not hostile either. More like: I see you. I’ll behave.

And she nods back: I see you too. I’ll try.

That’s all that it is. A small breath of peace in the warzone. Because they both know that this vacation isn’t about them. There are too many people they both love here, too many memories tied up in this group to be so selfish as to ruin everyone’s fun.

With that, Lando disappears below deck with a few of the guys, and the party continues as if nothing happened.

SOMEHOW, THEY’VE MANAGED.

It’s the last night on the boat together, and not once have they really spoken. Just kept on with the civil nods and carefully timed appearances. She took the mornings on the upper deck with a book and her sunglasses pulled low, while he suck to afternoons with Max and Keegan, sunbathing and pretending not to look over when she passed by.

Every time they went out for dinner, they sat at opposite ends of the table, pretending to be invested in conversations that barely held their attention.

When they went to explore the nearby cliffs and hidden beaches, they naturally split into smaller groups, Lando ending up with the boys, as usual, taking the off-road buggy trails that wind through dusty hills, while she tagged along with a few of the girls. They didn’t walk near each other. Didn’t even end up in the same group photo.

But the glances were a constant, and all of them have carried them both here, almost at the end.

There’s a bizzare quiet in the air tonight, the kind that only the sea can create — so deep, violent, and alive at the same time.

After soaking in her own heat for hours, she decides to step out of her cabin for a breath of fresh air.

They’ve ordered seafood for dinner, and her relationship with it is not exactly good. A small breeze brushes across her face, lifting her hair slightly, carrying with it the clean scent of salt. The boat rocks gently beneath her, and the stars above are strewn carelessly across the sky like spilled sugar.

The second she steps into the dark of the corridor and turns toward the small galley, her heart skips a beat. For good reason. Lando’s already there, barefoot and shirtless and deep in thought in the low light, leaning against the railing like he belongs in the night. One of his hands is resting on the cool metal, while the other is wiping the beads of sweat off his forehead.

His head turns when he hears her cat-like steps, eyes catching hers in the dark.

The only sounds are the gentle hush of the waves against the hull, and the occasional creak of the boat. Neither of them says anything, as if they don’t even know how to speak to each other after throwing cutting words at each other, all those months ago. The silence between them doesn’t make them feel awkward. Maybe just a little guarded. However, it’s very depressing, really, not having anything to say to the person who once knew absolutely everything about you.

It would be very easy for her to turn on her heels and walk back into her cabin, avoiding Lando, just like she has done all these days. But then she hears his whispered voice, and his mellow intonation is enough to make the entire planet stop from spinning.

“Everything okay?”

She swallows, caught in the stillness of the night as if she’s a thief. “Yeah,” she whispers back, even though it sounds more like a question than an answer. “Felt a bit sick.”

He nods slowly. “The shrimp?”

“The fucking shrimp,” she agrees.

Lando shrugs. “Ew.”

His reaction triggers a wave of warmth that washes over her, forcing a smile while thinking about the past. The memory flashes rudely uninvited. Still, she weclomes it with nothing but nostalgia in her heart. They were eight, crammed into a bed on a family vacation, and she’d eaten her weight in shrimp and clams at dinner, proudly declaring herself a seafood queen. Hours later, she threw it all up, right there, in bed, all over him. Lando woke up screaming, drenched in the smell of stomach acid, fish and betrayal and, ever since, he couldn’t even stand near a fish without gagging.

Cautious, she edges forward, bracing her arms on the railing only a couple feet apart from him, eyes fixed on the black stretch of sea. The moon paints a silver path across the water, waves shifting like oil under its light. For a few minutes, they just stand there like two ghosts, side by side, watching the view, but probably stuck in different memories.

“So, I’ll go back inside,” she says a little unsure.

His voice cuts through the quiet, “Stay,” says Lando without hesitation.

It’s not just the gentle plea that catches her off guard, but the way he says it. Like he means it more than he means anything else right now. Possibly more than he meant anything else ever.

Awkwardly, she moves forward, letting herself lean closer to him. That’s how she finds out that physical distance means absolutely nothing when it’s the emotional distance that kept them apart. More than that, there are many things left unsaid that fill that void.

Out of sheer curiosity — or plain stupidity, she’s not sure yet — the girl begins to walk uncertainly towards the edge of the space that separates them.

“You remember New Year’s?” she asks, the words coming out softer than she expects.

There is no trace of hatred or resentment behind her voice, which surprises her. She understands that she has, without realizing it, moved beyond their most tensed moment so far. And all that’s left now, besides her curiosity, is the fact that no matter how much time has passed, the two of them still know each other on a level they haven’t reached with anyone else.

Lando doesn’t look at her, but his jaw flexes. “Hard to forget.”

“I threw your jacket at you,” she continues with a small laugh.

“And stormed off like you were in a romcom.”

“To be fair, you were being a dick.”

He chuckles then, and the sound is gentle yet painfully nostalgic. “I probably was.”

“You talked like you knew everything. It was…” she hesitates, fingers tightening slightly on the rail, “A bit cruel. Even if it came from a good place.”

Lado nods. “I know,” he says, “I guess I didn’t know how to talk without sounding like some immature tantrum just because I was missing my friend.”

She glances at him then, studying the curve of his profile in the moonlight. The familiar slope of his perfect sculpted nose. The way his curls fall just a little longer then she remembered. The way he speaks but seems so deeply forgotten in the memory of that winter night.

“I broke up with him the next day,” she admits.

He turns, his eyes searching for hers. “Yeah,” says Lando, “I figured.”

Even though she tries her best, she can’t read his demeanor. He seems tense, even though their conversation isn’t hostile in any way. Not yet, at least. Still, Lando looks as if he’s bracing for some sort of impact that she’s not aware of. There something softer in his expression, though. Something hesitant that encourages her to keep him in that memory.

“I think about it sometimes,” she continues. “That night. All of it.”

He nods again. “Me too. ”

She looks over, eyes wide and cautious, but Lando doesn’t look away.

“But,” he continues, “I won’t apologize for what I said. Because I wasn’t wrong. You do deserve better. And maybe I had no right to say it the way I did, but I’d rather have fought with you than keep watchig you shrink yourself for someone who didn’t even appreciate you.”

His words hit like the waves, tightening her throat. “I get that. But in the moment, it made me feel…” she begins, eyes filling up with tears, “Like you stopped respecting me because of him. And I felt stupid for being so blinded that I lost sight of all the things that were the most important to me.”

The way Lando looks at her now makes her heart sink. Not with pity. Not even with regret. Just a dull ache, like he’s been carrying it with him for months, and he’s too tired to hold it tightly anymore.

“Come on, you know that’s not true,” he says. “I was just irritated and drunk. Watching you disappear like that wasn’t easy, and I didn’t know how to ask you to stay without sounding like a selfish prick. I should’ve just said something,” adds Lando. “Instead of sulking and keeping score and acting like you betrayed me for living your life,” he looks away then, back to the endless sea, eyes half-lidded like the movement of the waves might offer him something easier to face. Anything but this.

He had time to think and weigh his actions. But it all came down to those last few minutes, when it suddenly became too much for both of them.

“I missed you, Lando,” she confesses after a while, letting the words out in a small voice.

The silence that follows is no longer heavy with avoidance, but an intimate warmth that somehow infiltrates under her skin. It merges with all the sadness caused by the time they spent apart and, together, they create a new kind of feeling that she doesn’t yet know how to name. And, for some reason, she’s in no hurry to do so.

Uncertain yet courageous after hearing her admission, Lando’s hand finds hers along the railing and, to his surprise, she doesn’t pull away. Instead, she threads her fingers through his, like she was already waiting for it. For him.

It’s weird, she thinks, how their hands fit together like the end of a sentence that finally makes sense. So she keeps it there, feeling his pulse in her palm like it’s the most normal thing in the world. They can’t look at each other, though. And suddenly, the waves are so much more interesting than the mess they’ve created, their soft undulation bewitching them both, mirroring their feelings in a sick, twisted way; tamed at the surface, yet storming somewhere deeper.

In the chaos of her mind, she can feel the gentle way his thumb brushes the side of her hand. The way he squeezes her afterwards. Like a promise. And she knows, without either of them saying it, that this was always going to happen. That they are inevitable, like gravity pulling them toward the center of each other.

“Are we gonna go back to being cold in the morning?” he finds the strength to ask, voice barely above the hush of the tide.

Truth is, she doesn’t even know what the next few minutes will bring, let alone the next morning.

The girl turns her head slightly, her cheek pressing to his shoulder. “Well, I don’t know how to be your friend nowadays,” she admits, not to make him feel bad, but because that’s the only thing she’s sure of. Her truth.

Lando sighs, “Yeah, that’s not quite us anymore, hm?”

It takes another crushing silence before Lando turns to her completely. It doesn’t matter. It doesn’t matter they can’t be friends anymore, because they’re way past that. Lando is way past that. All he wants is one chance to show her how much it means to him; every word, every touch and every single thought that’s been haunting him for days on end.

He looks like he’s on autopilot when he brings his other hand up to brush her jaw. After his movement, she takes the next step and leans into his touch. She opens her mouth, maybe to say his name, but the words don’t get the chance to get out, because Lando grabs her firmly and pulls her toward him. Hard. Like he can’t take the distance anymore.

His mouth crashes into hers without any warning. It isn’t careful. It isn’t sweet. It’s the result of months of silence, of aching, of watching and wanting and never having. It’s teeth clashing, breath catching, fingers curling so hard into skin that it’ll leave marks.

She gasps into his mouth, as if the ground is crumbling beneath her feet, but at the same time, it’s the most exciting feeling she’s ever felt. Her arms are instinctively wrapping around his shoulders, pulling him closer like she’s been just as consumed by what they didn’t say. Lando fists a hand in her hair, the other gripping her waist tight enough to bruise. He’s all fire, hot and desperate, and there’s not enough water that surrounds them to cool what’s raging in his chest.

He gives her the kind of kiss that says I missed you too and I’m sorry and I never stopped thinking of you all at once. Her hand constricts around his bicep, grounding herself in the feel of him: his salty lips and the way he exhales with a relieved sigh like she’s air after being underwater for far too long. It’s impossible not to feel how much he needed this, because there’s nothing left unsaid in the way he holds her. The truth — his truth — was always there, waiting for the moment they’d both be brave enough to let in.

The kiss deepens before either of them realizes what’s happening. And it’s her who leans in a bit further. That brings him back to the present moment, not because she is just as desperate, but because of how much she means it. How much she wants this. It’s right there, in the way her mouth moves over his, open and urgent, like a need that’s been burning for too long. It makes Lando groan silently when her teeth graze his bottom lip, her tongue flicking against his like a dare. A dare that he answers to, meeting her halfway, teasing, then licking into her mouth with a skilled confidence that makes her head spin.

Oh, he’s a good kisser.

Dizzy from the sudden intensity, she clings to his neck, tilting her head as he takes control, his hands finding their way back to her waist after roaming up and down her body, guiding her back a few steps until her spine presses lightly to the railing. The breeze kisses across her bare legs, her thin nightdress doing nothing to hide the way her body shivers. Or how hard he gets against her. She feels it instantly, like a sharp contrast between his swim trunks and her body, and it sends a jolt of heat right between her thighs.

Her breath hitches once they stop, glancing up at him, caught between amusement and want. “What are you so excited for?”

Lando meets her gaze with an innocent grin twitching at his lips as he shrugs, “Sorry.”

She can’t help but laugh at the absurdity of the situation she finds herself in. Loud. The kind of laugh that throws her head back a little and makes her cover her mouth when she realizes its heat.

Lando just watches her, enchanted by her mere existence. And, without thinking twice, he asks, “How can anyone be embarrassed by that laugh?”

The sudden comment silences both of them. Lando, because he just heard himself saying it out loud. And her, because of how sincere he sounds. How tender.

Still grinning, he lets his forehead fall against hers. They may never encounter such a moment of peace again, so neither of them hesitates to take it where it’s supposed to go to: her tiny cabin. The narrow door clicks shut behind them, and the space is barely big enough for one person, let alone the two of them tangled in something so close it’s hard to tell where tension ends and need begins.

She backs into the bed, and Lando follows, eyes fixed to her like she’s the only girl ever. When they finally collapse onto the mattress, it creaks under their weight. Their knees bump. Shoulders brush. Lando’s arm wraps around her waist in an instant, and she fits there like it’s hers. That grip. Him.

Somehow, he’s bigger than she remembers. Or maybe she’s just never noticed how broad his chest is, how his legs stretch past the foot of her bed, how small her frame feels when she pulls him into her. And now, in the closeness of their embrace, it’s impossible not to feel it.

It intimidates her, but she keeps her hands all over him, warm skin meeting her palms. Her eyes roam without shame, wandering from his abdomen up to his pecs and then stop on his freshly kissed lips. Her fingers trail along his arms, feeling the strength carved into muscle by years of racing and tension. She watches the way goosebumps rise under her touch, and when her hand flattens over his chest, just above his heart, Lando exhales heavily, with a slight shudder.

He doesn’t look away, though. He doesn’t have the heart or enough willpower. He simply looks back at her, eyes burning, as if seeing her underneath him like this is the only normal thing in their messed up lifes.

“I need to know where’s your head at,” he says, his long fingers brushing the outside of her thigh.

She closes her eyes for a moment. Mostly because she finds it hard to pay attention when her childhood friend — the skinny little boy who used to be blown away by the slightest breeze — is now on top of her in the flesh, displaying groups of muscles she’s never seen on his body before, let alone touched.

Her hand stays on his chest, “Am I ever going to get my best friend back?”

His hearts breaks a little, because he realizes that both of them know the implications of her question. The answer, too, but she still wants to hear him saying it, because that’s the only thing that’ll make it true.

Lando’s eyes search hers for a moment too long, and something in him rearrange, the muscle in his jaw tightening before he leans in. “No,” he simply replies.

She figured. Still, it is not necessarily the answer itself that makes her emotional, but the way Lando said it, as if it is torture for him to even admit it.

“I can’t ruin myself over and over again, pretending that what I feel for you is small. It never was.”

She nods, lifting her hand to the back of his neck, threading her fingers into his hair and pulling him down until their lips are barely brushing. Lando’s hands are pulling at her, slowly sliding the straps of her dress down. He takes his time, undressing her like he’s unwrapping a present he’s waited far too long to touch. And when she’s standing there, bare and warm and only for him to see, he sits back to stare and take as many mental pictures as he can.

“You’re…” he starts, voice nearly breaking, “So fucking beautiful.”

She presses closer, hands moving to his shorts with urgency. Lando lets her, barely breathing and, when the last layer falls away, she looks down at him. All of him. His golden skin that glows in the dim light filtering through the porthole, muscles tightening under her hungry touch.

Impatient, his hand slides between her legs while maintaining eye contact, his fingertips brushing over the soft skin at her inner thigh before he presses just lightly against her entrance. The reaction is immediate, a sharp breath followed by a soft whimper that catches in her throat. Her hips instinctively lift toward him, and his own breath wavers at the sound.

“So wet,” he breaks off, almost spiraling from the realization, from finding out just how much she wants him. Just like he wants her.

For a moment, there’s something feral in his gaze, something that won’t let her move her eyes. Like he’s balancing on a tightrope of restraint, and she’s the drop waiting to pull him under.

“It kills me,” he admits. Then he leans in, lips brushing against the shell of her ear, “But you need to be quiet, darling.”

She nods, her breath still uneven, knowing it’s going to be anything but easy.

Lando presses a kiss to her shoulder, then her collarbone before he continues, “Even though I love it when you’re loud, you’ll have to save that for later.”

Just the thought of her, waiting for his next move all warm and wanting, has his cock already pulsing in his palm. He strokes himself slowly, gaze locked on her as she shifts beneath him, spreading wider with a shaky inhale.

As curious as ever, she glances down between them, eyes filled with want, and he watches her bite her lower lip at the sight of him, so hard and ready. The gap between them closes quickly, suspended in that final moment before everything changes. Her fingers curl into the sheets, watching Lando lining himself up, just barely brushing against her clit. Then, he pushes in with a whimper that sounds like it’s been clawing at his throat for months. Like this moment has been sitting just under his skin, waiting to become real.

“Fuck,” he pants, silently. “You feel better than I ever imagined.”

Right now, all her senses are inhibited by him. The weight, the stretch, the warmth, the way his hands frame her hips like she’s the only thing keeping him in check, and she’s the only reason why Lando isn’t unleashing hell yet. Her legs wrap around his waist, holding him close, as if her body already knows what her heart won’t let her say.

Lando. Lando. Lando!

But he shakes his head, his voice going lower than normal, “No, baby, Let me.”

The bed is laughably small, making Lando huff out a frustrated breath, one arm sliding under her thigh as he shifts them both, gripping her firmly to guide her where he needs her. It’s not graceful in any way, but there’s something about the way he manhandles her, lifting, adjusting, controlling the angle until it’s perfect, that makes her head fall back with a gasp.

He exhales through his nose, lips pressing in a thin line to avoid making sounds that could get them both into trouble. “There. That’s it.”

She lets him move her, pliant and trusting, her breath getting heavier when their skin brushes in all the right places. Every thrust is slow at first, drawing soft moans from her mouth that only make him harder. The way her body reacts only fuels him, encouraged by the way her lashes flutter, and the way her hands slide into his hair when she can’t find the words. She couldn’t say it anyway. Can’t give voice to what’s blooming and breaking inside her.

But Lando feels it in the way she moves with him, and how her body opens like it was always meant to. That pushes him to thrust harder, feeling like the entire boat shakes at the force.

“Easy. You’re gonna break the bed,” she says against his jaw, her voice a breathy laugh.

“Wouldn’t be the worst thing I’ve broken over you,” he mutters back, but there’s no malice in his tone, except a dangerous affection that’s always lived under his skin when it came to her.

It makes her curious to know what he means, but just as she’s about to ask, Lando finds that angle where their bodies align like puzzle pieces that should’ve never fit but somehow do. He rocks into her so sweetly, and that’s enough to silence her. The answer is in the way her breath stutters. The way her fingers grip his arms. The way her body pulls him in and clenches around his length like it’s never known anything else.

“Shit. Again, please,” Lando breathes wetly against her skin. “Do that again,” he repeats, already buried to the hilt, grinding against that perfect spot inside her, that once he found it, it’s impossible to stop. “Mhm. Let me make it right.”

“You said you can’t,” she challanges him, barely able to speak. “So stop taking your sweet time, Norris,” she pants, breathless but defiant, smirking even as her thighs tremble around his hips.

Lando lifts his head, curls damp against his forehead, eyes dark with a sudden annoyance. “Yeah? That’s how he’s had you all this time? Quick, in and out, job done?”

Her smirk drops into a scoff, her hands pressing against his chest like she might shove him off. But she arches into him instead, loving the way her back rubs against the mattress with each push.

“If anything, he had the balls to be honest with me.”

“Fuck’s sake,” he thrusts deeper, making her gasp mid-retort. “Stop defending him, will ya?”

The sheets are already half off the bed, twisted and forgotten, heat pulsing like a heartbeat between them. Lando starts moving inside her with a relentless rhythm, as if trying to erase anyone who came before him with every shove. But she won’t give him the silence he craves.

Not anymore.

Her head tilts back, sweat glistening at her collarbone, but her eyes are sharp, ready to catch his reaction. “No wonder you drive like that. Always trying to prove you’re better than the last guy, aren’t you?”

His hips slam forward, hard enough to make her gasp again, fingers bruising against her waist. “That’s rich coming from the girl who settled for someone who didn’t even know how to fuck her, let alone treat her right.”

She bites her lip, not in surrender but to hide the moan that slips out anyway. Her nails dig into his back, dragging down like a punishment until he grunts. “You’re such a coward,” she snaps. “At least he didn’t treat every conversation like a race he had to win.”

All of a sudden, Lando slows his movements, grinding deep, making her eyes roll before he fucks back into her harder than before. Only to make a point. Only to see all the places he takes her to.

“‘Cause he had the habit of abandoning before it even started, isn’t it? How many times did you have to fake it?”

Her eyes snap to his, speechless, but Lando doesn’t blink. He grins at her, knowing he is waiting for an answer he’ll never get.

She kisses him then, hard and angry, pouring all the emotions she never thought Lando, of all people, would ever awaken in her. Then she pushes him, her legs squeezing around his waist, her action emphasizing the duality of the thoughts going through her mind.

“Just so we’re clear. You’re not the first to try and fuck me into forgetting,” she finally replies.

At that, Lando stops for a breath, not from exhaustion but from the way her words claw straight through his big ego. He slams into her again, smiling at her, hand catching her thigh to spread her wider. “But I’m the one who’s going to succeed.”

She’s so close, he can feel it in the way her body aches to keep his cock inside and how her insults start to blend with moans. What amazes him, though, is the strength she has to continue their little argument, as if they’re not in the middle of something else right now.

“Never thought you could be such an asshole, it’s unbelievable.”

Lando doesn’t even blink when he speaks again, “He made you cry on New Year’s,” he growls, voice sharp, like a blade slipping between her ribs. “And I’m the asshole?”

Before she can throw a retort back, he tilts his hips, changing the angle, and drives into her so sudden that it knocks the breath from her lungs. Her back arches, while her hips are lifting to meet every punishing thrust.

“Lando,” she moans his name, arms winding around his shoulders like she’s holding on for dear life.

She can feel him in places she didn’t even know could feel. He’s fucking her with such intensity it turns into a blur of slick skin and strangled whimpers, the bed creaking beneath them.

The banter dies somewhere along the way, and all that’s left behind is the heat, the pounding rhythm, the kind of pleasure that makes thoughts disappear and stars dance behind their eyes. Her brows are scrunched, eyes glazed, and she realizes she’s about to scream. Actually scream.

Luckily, Lando places a hand over her mouth just in time, muffling the broken sounds pouring out of her throat. It takes her by surprise, realizing how well he knows all her signals without ever telling him. But it’s easy for him. Especially when he sees the way her body’s trembling under his weight, and the way her eyes plead and challenge all at once.

He nods, hips pistoning into her, watching her come apart beneath him, a quiet, shaking mess.

“Yeah,” he grunts as quiet as possible through gritted teeth, “That’s it. Just me now.”

The words hang in the sweat-soaked air as she comes around his length, clenching so tight it nearly takes him with her. Lando doesn’t stop moving. Instead, he talks her through it, his voice breathless against her ear.

“That’s my girl, let it all out. So fucking perfect.”

Her nails sink further into his back, riding the aftershocks with his cock still buried deep, stretching her in all the ways she was craving. It brings him right on the edge, and with a frustrated cry, Lando pulls out, the head of his cock flushed and swollen as it rests hot and heavy against her thigh. He lets himself go at the sight, thick ropes spilling messily onto her skin. Sticky. Warm. Heavenly.

“Lan,” she breathes, half a protest, half a moan, reaching up to drag him back on top of her.

Lando can’t resist the pull. Not when her touch unravels him with every glide of her fingers over his skin. He used to dream of it, but the reality is always better. He kisses her again, softer this time, letting the moment stretch before his hand finds the curve of her breast, fingers teasing with just enough pressure to make her arch against him. Patiently, his thumb sweeps over her nipple, circling, pressing, feeling it harden under his touch.

It makes her whimper, her hands fisting in his hair. Lando’s lips find the column of her throat then, biting gently just beneath her jaw. Her sounds light him up like the fireworks they didn’t witness that night. He trails his kisses down to her collarbone, one palm flattening over her stomach before traveling back up.

Somehow, the chaos has slowed, but the heat is still there.

Their bodies are tangled in ways that no one could tell where she starts and where he ends, the mess between them so satisfying. When their eyes meet again, he sees her flushed cheeks, the sheen of sweat on her brow, and her chest heaving. Her eyes are so vulnerable as she looks back at him — her Lando, stripped down and completely wrecked.

And without a single word, he slides back in.

No sharp words, no angry breathing. Just the sound of their pants, the wet glide of his cock moving inside her, the weight of emotion that neither of them dares to name. Every thrust is unhurried this time around, his sweaty forehead resting against hers, like he’s trying to memorize the feel of her walls fluttering around him, the way her thighs lock around his waist with each roll of his hips.

It’s not just sex anymore. Is so much more than that, something that will linger for a quite some time after they part tonight. And they both know it.

When the pressure builds again, it’s different. There’s less fire. More ache. She blinks up at him, and her lips tremble. Tears pool at the corners of her eyes, not from physical pain, but from the overwhelming closeness of it all.

Lando sees it, and kisses them away.

“I’ve got you,” he whispers.

And when he comes again, it’s with a quiet groan right against her lips, buried deep as her body pulls him in, taking every drop of his pleasure and keeping him as if he belongs to her from now on. All of it. All of him.

The silence that surrounds them afterwards feels too full. She lets him stay there, wrapped around her, her fingers idly tracing his back. But her gaze is distant, fixed on the ceiling, already somewhere else.

For now, at least, they can coexist in the same world, breathing each other in until the reality will catch them from behind.

But that’s a problem for tomorrow morning.

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ MASTERLIST . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

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, 2025

[pochaccoups]

the seven deadly sins — seventeen hyung line ver. (18+)

SEUNGCHEOL —; ENVY

Seungcheol can’t help how often the daggers of jealousy sink into his heart. You’re you, after all. The fucking hot love of his life. He think it’s a little justified that seeing other men make you smile brings out this possessive, protective urge in him, because it’s him that should be making you smile and laugh.

He’s not an asshole though. He’s not the type to punch a guy for checking you out, or even for hitting on you when he’s not by your side. He’s not even the type to intimidate, or humiliate. Your relationship is built upon a steady foundation of trust, and he knows before you even get to tell him that you’ve politely let whoever know that you’re taken.

That means it’s you who’s on the receiving end of his pent up envy.

Harsh, merciless snaps of his hips drive your face deeper into the pillow, make your muffled moans grow louder. Your poor pussy weeps around his cock as it drives in and out of you, as though Seungcheol won’t relent until he’s carved the shape of it into your guts. Until your mind can only think about him, him, him.

It’s his name you sob like you’re praying for forgiveness, his cock that finds a home in your greedy walls, his mouth that marks your skin and leaves a message upon you—you’re being taken care of.

JEONGHAN —; GREED

When Yoon Jeonghan wants something, he will stop at nothing to get it.

You were a smart girl, and he liked that. He wanted to play games with you, and you saw through him. Pretended to play along so you could play your own games and string him along, all in the name of fun. He wanted you—badly. Wanted to make you go dumb, put you in your place. How badly did you want the same thing.

What you quickly learn, however, is that it is not enough for Yoon Jeonghan to finally get what he wants. Even when he’s finally managed to slither his way between your legs, made you cry on his tongue and then his cock, in his eyes remains something akin to hunger.

He needs more.

Seeing you fall apart at his hands has altered something in his brain.

“One more, pretty?” he asks, soft and angelic, as though he hasn’t turned your bones into jelly and filled your head with cotton. He draws circles on your tummy; presses a kiss to your hair in a way that makes you melt for him.

“Can’t, Hannie, ‘s too much,” you mumble, your throat like sandpaper.

“It’ll feel good,” he says, sliding his hand between your legs to play with your poor puffy clit, grinning as you whimper at the contact. “Yeah?”

Your reply comes as a pitiful, broken moan. When he gets you to your high, it comes as a gentle, pulsing wave, but you’ve reached heaven now, and Jeonghan has guided you there. You’re floating, brainless, and as your eyes flutter shut and you drift away into slumber, he knows he has won.

JOSHUA —; PRIDE

Joshua Hong. The man who’s got it all. The face, the body, the voice, the girl.

Every conversation he has is about you, you, you. You’re his phone lockscreen. His social media pages are made up of pictures of you. It’s almost insufferable, the way he doesn’t shut up about how perfect of a partner you are.

He buys you a one-of-a-kind engagement ring. He doesn’t tell you how much it’s worth, but secretly he’ll leak it to the press—a quarter of a million dollars and a two year wait for it to be crafted.

It should come as no surprise that he likes to film you taking his cock. It’s not enough for him to slide his cock into your heat, to bury it snug between your velvety walls—he needs a way of remembering the tight, slippery grip of your pretty cunt pulsing around him, and the shameless, debauched noises you make when he fucks you good. Work means he can be far from you sometimes, and timezones mean you can’t just call, so tapes it is.

They’re strictly for your and his eyes only—of course. However, what crosses his mind too often is a devilish little voice in the back of his head telling him to post it. Just make a burner account. She’ll never know. But he can’t bring himself to do it when the ring on your finger is a promise of his trust.

Instead he’ll leave his phone unlocked, opened on his camera roll where the videos haven’t been tucked away into the hidden folder ‘yet’, or ‘accidentally’ clicking the wrong thing when sending his friends photos and ‘not realising’ until an hour later that he’d exposed to them a short dim clip of him covering your tits with his cum.

He knows they want you. It’s not like they hide their wolfish stares, their drooling mouths, their licked lips. They’ll never have you, though, and he sleeps well at night knowing that. With you in his arms, too.

JUN —; LUST

Junhui is quite a wildcard— a mix of a little bit of every sin. Above all, however, he is just so full of desire. He’s got an unquenchable libido that is heightened when he’s in love. And you are his lucky victim.

It’s the littlest things you do that make him hard. It’s even things you don’t do. It’s the way your tits sit in a low cut top on a blistering summer’s day. It’s the way you like to run your hands through his hair when you’re lounging on the couch together, or sitting at the dinner table. It’s the way you call his name from another room with the sweetest lilt to your voice: “Junieee?”

It’s the way you take him so good, whether you’re bent over the kitchen counter or pressed up against the wall or rolled onto your side first thing in the morning. He’s so greedy for you, for the warm embrace of your wet, fluttering pussy and for the sound of your soft, blissful moans.

It doesn’t help that you’re always so wet, so open and ready for him. Knowing that does terrible things to his sanity. You’re so pliable when he gets his hands on you, so welcoming, letting him play with you as he pleases. You try to play it off as he kisses along your neck and gropes at your nipples through your shirt, pretend like he’s bothering you, but you’re not fooling anyone.

He’ll try to make things quick sometimes, make you cum on his fingers while he kisses you hard, or let you take him down your throat, but then it’s you who’s whining, batting your eyelashes because you want more. He’s ruined you. You’re perfect for him.

HOSHI —; GLUTTONY

Oh, he can’t get enough of you. When he gets his hands (or, well, his mouth) on you, it’s over.

Kwon Soonyoung would spend weeks on end between your legs if he only could. He’d give up food and water and shelter and money if it meant he could survive on your pussy alone. It’s enough sustenance, he swears it.

“Taste so sweet, baby,” he tells you, smeared and glistening with you all down his chin and neck. He's the image of debauchery, indulgence, shamelessness all at once. You look even worse for wear. Sweaty, lips puffy from being bitten, skin burning, hair tousled. Both of you look like sin.

It always starts so innocent. Well, as innocent as your boyfriend using your stomach or tits as a pillow can be. “Just taking a nap,” he’ll insist. Then his fingers start wandering, and his hand is down your pants, and his head is between your thighs.

“Just… Just a lil’ sip, yeah?” he’ll promise, and you never believe him as his tongue dives into your cunt. It’s never been ‘just a sip’. He makes you sob, makes you spill your nectar all over his tongue and drinks it like it’s the blood of the Lord until he’s intoxicated by it, hooked on it, his life depends on it. He’ll keep eating even though he’s full and you’re a quivering, writhing mess, and even then it still won’t be enough.

WONWOO —; WRATH

Wonwoo is not mean. He doesn’t have much of a temper. He’s calm. Patient. Soft-spoken. His best friends of ten years have only seen him yell once. Really, he’s the last person to be described as wrathful.

Somehow, though, you’ve figured out how to get on every last one of his nerves. He’s smitten with you, but fuck if you don’t raise his heart rate sometimes.

“Are you really wearing that out, baby?” he asks, eyes dropping to the where you tug at your miniskirt, only for it to ride back up to just beneath your ass the second you move again.

“Yeah, why?” you reply, tilting your head at yourself in the mirror. “You don’t think I look hot?”

“You do, but—”

“You think I look like a slut?”

“No, love. It’s two degrees out. I don’t want you to freeze.”

“You just don’t want other men looking at me, I get it. God, you’re so controlling.”

You don’t mean it. His jaw still clenches.

Then it’s a never-ending back and forth until you’ve managed to wear out every last thread of his patience, and he’s putting you on your knees and stuffing your mouth full of his cock in return for you putting words in his. He’ll fuck your throat until it’s raw and your mascara bleeds down your face, until his release spills on your tongue and he’s cooing at you to swallow it like a good girl.

Then he’ll ruin your pussy. Flip that stupid little miniskirt up over your ass and give you something to complain about.

WOOZI —; SLOTH

It’s a well-known fact that Jihoon is a laid-back man. Not quite lazy—when it comes to his work he’s very much the opposite. It's just that doesn’t put any more effort into things than he needs to.

His slothful sex habits don’t come from the fact that he thinks you should be doing all the work because he has an ego. It’s nothing like that. It’s that he likes to let you take what you want from him, what you need. Which is why, most of the time, he’ll sit back and let you do exactly that.

With his arms behind his head, he watches with his bottom lip snagged between his teeth as you ride his cock into tomorrow. He’s in no rush to cum. So long as you’re not done with him, he doesn’t feel the need.

You’re a vision, anyway; and him, a sort of voyeur. His head spins only from the sound of your soft, broken moans, your disheveled appearance, the spit and cum and the marks that run down your chest. Your tight pussy is heavenly too, fluttering so temptingly around him, so needy, and he's not even doing anything.

Eventually comes your soft whining. Like clockwork, your hips start to slow, your words edged with exhaustion. “Jihoonie, my thighs hurt…”

"Ah, poor thing," he coos, but even in your fucked-out state you can hear the faux-concern in his words. He reaches for your face, warm and damp with sweat, and cups your cheek, running his thumb over your spit-slicked lips. "You wanted my cock so bad, didn't you? Then take it yourself."

Your thighs burn, and walking will hurt in the morning, but the only way you will get an orgasm and a load from your boyfriend is if you do as he says, so you brace yourself against his chest, and you ride him hard.

[daxisyzz]

hi! i’m thinking about some angst with a soft fluff ending where the reader and bucky is in their early stages of their relationship. bucky was s h@rass3d in hydra, he was struggling to make physical contact and interactions with the reader but somehow learned what safe touch is 🫶🏻

here's your fic <3

A kind of brave

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: Bucky flinches when you touch him—but you're not in a hurry. Love, in your world, is patient.

Word count: 1.1k+

The writing in italics is a flashback

Warnings and tags: Past trauma and harassment (non-graphic), Flashbacks to Hydra-related abuse, PTSD symptoms (flinching, hypervigilance, difficulty with physical touch), Emotional vulnerability, Hurt/Comfort, Gentle Love, Healing Together, Safe Touch Exploration, Bucky Barnes Needs a Hug, Reader Helps Bucky Heal.

You weren’t expecting anything when it started.

He’d shown up to the Tower quieter than most. Standoffish, unreadable. You'd been assigned as his point of contact—“Ease him in,” they said. “Help him find normal.”

But normal wasn’t easy to come by for someone like Bucky Barnes.

Still, he let you sit with him during shared meals. You’d catch him listening as you told stories about the city or teased Sam across the room. His replies were clipped but thoughtful. He'd nod when you made jokes. Once, you caught him smiling.

Then came the moment that changed things—subtly, but completely.

You were reaching for a mug in the kitchen. He stood beside you. As your fingers brushed his arm—just a touch, featherlight—he flinched.

Not dramatically. Not enough to cause a scene. But enough for your heart to ache.

His shoulders tensed. His breath hitched. He stepped back like the heat of your skin had burned him.

“I’m sorry,” you murmured, pulling your hand back instantly.

He didn’t speak. Just stared at the floor, ashamed of something that wasn’t his fault.

You didn’t bring it up that day. Just gave him space and offered him coffee like nothing happened.

But that moment stayed with you.

So you started paying closer attention

You noticed it in the way he avoided the couch if someone was already sitting. How he always stood at the far edge of the elevator. How his hands stayed buried in his sleeves, even when the sun was warm.

When he smiled, it didn’t quite reach his eyes.

When he laughed, it was careful—like joy was something borrowed.

You adapted without needing to say it aloud. Stood beside him instead of in front. Sat far enough away that he wouldn’t feel cornered. Asked with your eyes before you ever reached out.

He noticed. You knew he did. Because slowly, inch by inch, he started to linger longer. Sit a little closer. Speak a little more.

Trust takes time.

Especially when you’ve been taught the wrong definition of touch.

It always started with the sound.

A low, mechanical click as the restraints slid into place, followed by the sterile whir of lights flickering to life overhead — harsh, clinical, too white. Too clean. A cruel contrast to the filth he was forced to live in.

The chair was metal, ice-cold against his skin no matter how long he was in it. His breath fogged in the air like a ghost trying to escape. But ghosts were free. He wasn’t.

He stopped fighting it years ago — if years even existed down here. Time was meaningless in a place that never changed. No windows. No sky. No sense of day or night. Just missions, control, silence. Then pain.

A man in a lab coat leaned over him, faceless and featureless in Bucky’s mind now. There had been too many. They all smelled the same — antiseptic and cruelty. A hand gripped his chin, tilting his face roughly upward like he was an object being inspected.

“You're not him anymore,” the voice said, clinical, bored. “You don't flinch. You obey.”

But he did flinch — inside, where no one could see. Where it wouldn't earn him another reset.

Another hand came next — this one pressed over his shoulder, firm and too slow to be casual. They wanted him to feel it. They always wanted him to feel it, in the worst ways. Not just pain, but control. Ownership. Submission.

It wasn’t the physical agony that broke him the most. It was how they taught him to dread touch. How something so human became a punishment. They rewired him — so that warmth became threat, closeness became fear, and skin-on-skin was something to survive rather than savor.

There were nights after a mission when they didn’t even have to touch him. They’d just come close. Breathe behind him. Wait for him to flinch.

He always did.

It was a week after a rough mission. Bucky had barely said a word.

You found him on your couch one night, long after the city had gone to sleep. Hoodie sleeves pulled over his hands. Eyes vacant.

You didn’t speak right away. Just offered him tea. Sat beside him—far enough to let him breathe.

Eventually, he said it.

“Do you know what it’s like,” he whispered, “to want to be touched but not know how?”

Your heart cracked. You didn’t rush to fix it.

Instead, you said, “Yeah. I think… I do.”

He turned toward you. “It wasn’t just the fighting. HYDRA—they used touch. Twisted it. Made it mean control. Made me afraid of something I used to love.”

You swallowed. “I’m sorry they did that to you.”

His voice dropped lower. “Sometimes I still feel like a weapon. Even now. When you smile at me. When you sit close. Part of me wants to pull you in. And the other part... is scared I’ll ruin it.”

“You won’t,” you promised. “Not with me."

He asked if he could hold your hand.

His voice shook when he said it.

“Only if you’re sure,” you told him.

“I’m not sure of anything,” he confessed. “But I want to try.”

So you laid your hand between you on the couch. Open. Waiting.

He took it, slow and careful. His fingers hovered before they rested on yours, like he was expecting the world to crack open beneath him.

But it didn’t.

And for the first time, he didn’t flinch.

You squeezed gently. “You’re doing amazing.”

He smiled—small, but real.

He started coming over more.

Sometimes with books. Sometimes with nothing but tired eyes and quiet company.

One night, you found him in the kitchen. He was making tea—two cups. He handed you yours without a word, then hesitated.

“Can I stay tonight?” he asked.

You blinked. “Of course. You want the couch?”

He shook his head. “I want to try… sleeping next to you. If that’s okay.”

You nodded. “It’s more than okay.”

That night, he curled up beside you—nervous but determined. You didn’t reach for him.

But he reached for you.

His fingers brushed yours under the blanket.

Light, hesitant.

You looked over. “This alright?”

He nodded, eyes a little glassy. “Yeah. It’s… nice.”

You didn’t need more than that.

And when you woke the next morning, his arm was loosely around your waist. His breathing soft against the back of your neck. No nightmares. No panic.

Just warmth.

Just safety.

Just him.

He still had bad days. Days when the shadows whispered louder than your voice.

But they passed.

And on the good days, you’d catch him reaching for you without thinking—nudging your foot under the table, brushing your hair behind your ear, linking pinkies as you walked side by side.

He was learning.

And he was loving you, in the way only he could—slow, steady, gentle.

Not perfect.

But real.

And more than enough.

[betty-fran]

SNW is probably the last thing I want to watch, and there are many reasons for that (but, yes, this is the main one).

Commenting on something you haven't watched isn't the best idea, but even from what I've seen, I have a lot of questions for the creators of the series. And probably the most important one, who are these people and how will they become the people we saw in TOS in just a few years? And why do all the actors look like they've stepped out of either a Netflix relationship show you'll never watch, or a passing cop show where everyone's hot, but you don't remember any of the characters?

Spock. Okay, why does this guy keep calling himself that? Why did he take his shirt off? Why did he kiss that blonde? Oh, he screams, and cries, and hugs. He seems more emotional and tactile than I am, and I usually scare introverts...

Chapel. She's really cute, honestly, the only thing I liked about SNW, even though she still has nothing to do with the original Star Trek. And she reminds me of Kirk, especially AOS Kirk, especially AOS Kirk from so many fanfics where he's more funny than an asshole. Honestly, guys, it's the 21st century, but for S and K, the authors are ready to write any love story, even a homosexual one, but they won't be given a chance to be together.

Jim. Oh, I've seen him somewhere before, and no, it wasn't in TOS. And why is he older than Shatner when he played Kirk, if it's a prequel? And I read that this Kirk has a better relationship with salad, is that true?

A pretty woman with a strange name, a relative of Khan, is having an affair with Kirk. Oh, this is starting to sound like The Rings of Power.

Number One. Finally has a name (and it's actually good) and looks like she just returned from a space flight with Katy Perry. I'd rather not think that she's my favorite female TOS character because it makes me sad.

Pike. Well, he's always been a difficult read - he's not talked about much in TOD, and even less so in AOS, and given his history he has this archetypal hero-from-legend vibe, which makes him a little less personal and more like a tapestry of a knight, which isn't great for a series where he's a lead protagonist. I don't know how SNW handles this story-wise, but visually, it doesn't. I'm actually really old-fashioned, but I'm really sad how the idea of ​​true beauty has changed, and how artificial it seems now.

(just bring them back! it was a real cinema!)

Through Star Trek, it's actually good to follow how the world is changing, because each of the Star Trek series actually reflects the time in which it was filmed. I've read the opinion that SNW captured the spirit of the old Star Trek quite and, well, I can only take their word for it. But watching TOS now, I can say that it's unlikely that anyone today can truly capture its spirit, and when someone can, it will be the day of a utopian future for cinema. From what I've seen, SNW really only conveys well the stagnation in which modern cinema finds itself, which has long been trying to please everyone at the same time and is therefore unable to express any specific self-sufficient thought.

star trek used to be about gays in space

now they just make Spock kiss women

[teddypines]

Mother's Dinner Drama

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Summary: Family dinner dind't turn out like it should when Y/N's mother starts to get involved. Warnings: Mother issues, maybe a bit of trauma. Angst with hurtfull words. Little violence. little dissociation. Sweating.

Batmom!Reader x Batfam. Batmom!Reader x Bruce Wayne. Use of Y/N for Reader, Fem!Reader, Use of she/her pronounce.

Notes: Was feeling the angst a little to much. And thank you all for the great comments and reposts on my stories. It means a lot to me that you all enjoy the stories. Words: 2473

Picture from @lightningstrikes-art credits to them.

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Bruce knew of Y/n's troubled Relationship with her mother, Sharon. He had seen it over the years. How she would belittle and control Y/n over the littlest things. It took some time to fully see the true extent of it all, but he quickly realised that the love Sharon had was conditional. Unlike the love he used to receive from his own mother. The love he was trying to give Y/N and the children.

He also knew that Y/N still loved her mother even if it was conditional most of the time. He knew she tried to reach out, to bond or just be at peace. Sadly most of the attempts went unsuccessful. Over time things did change since Y/N got to see how unconditional love was really like from Bruce and she had to focus on the growing family. So less time for big family meetings. Which neither of them minded, it gave Y/N time to heal a little.

Y/N learned over time, and with a little therapy, how to take the good with the bad and that most of her mothers shit came from a place of no control and the belief that the world revolved around them. With this she tried to be a better mother to their children. She didn't yell when something broke or got spilled. She didn't lie or use cheap tactics to get her way. didn't manipulate the situation to her will or made the children feel bad. She gave them what they never got.

It was one of the somewhat regular dinners that Y/N's parents had with the Wayne’s. Of course Sharon was being Sharon. Talking, just to talk and hear her own voice. Telling the boys what to do and what not. Giving off this fake consurne, maybe it was really her worrying, but it all came from a place that would only benefit her.

Things were going as they were going with a big family like theirs. The boy's set the table as Alfred helped Y/N with the last touches for dinner. This is where things went south. 

Sharon walked into the kitchen, having nothing better to do. “Do you two need any help with anything? I could bring something to the table already or mix the dressing in the salad?” 

“No thanks, mom, we have everything under control here. If you want you can ask Bruce If he needs help with picking a wine.” Y/N answered as she handed Alfred the last two bowls with strawberries and cream for dessert later. “Are you sure? It doesn't look like you have it under control.” Sharon responded as she started to look for a fork. Once the fork was found she went straight into one of the salads and took a bite. “Hmm, it needs more mustard dressing.” she said while already starting her search for the dressing.

Y/n looked at her mother with a numbing feeling already growing inside her chest. “Mom, we are fine and don't need help. The salad is fine, if you want more dressing you can add it once you have some on your plate. Damian doesn’t like the strong taste of mustard so the amount of dressing is less as a base.” She tried to get her mother to see a little sense with her words. Sharon however didn’t listen and took the salad bowl into the dining room.

“Mom, what are you doing?” Y/n asked, trying to catch up with her. “I'm just going to fix the salad sweetie.” Sharon answered as she looked back at her daughter. This made Y/N worry a little more. All because she knew the patrons, patrons Bruce told her were not normal to know. “Mom, stop!” Y/n snapped as she saw their mother reach for the dressing. “Don't put more dressing into that salad!”

Sharon heard Y/n but didn't listen anyway. Why would she, she was going to make this salad better. Putting a whole lot of dressing into the salad and started mixing it in. “There we go, now try it, it's much better like this. You can finally taste something.” She said with a smile, feeling rather proud of herself. She however quickly saw the mad expression on Y/n's face but didn't take it as a hint that she did something wrong. “Owh, don't look so sour sweetie, we all make mistakes.”

“No mom! I told you not to put more dressing into that salad! Why didn't you listen?!” Y/n asked, raising her voice a little in upset. She didn't care about the dressing for themselves but for Damian. Is her mother really that insensitive? 

“To make it taste better sweetie, it was rather bland.” Sharon answered, not seeing the problem that was so clearly there in front of her. 

“It's supposed to be like that mom! Damian hates mustard dressing, I warned You about this. It's bland for a reason!” The little scene slowly turned into a bigger one as Alfred and the boys got into the dinning room with more food they wanted to put on the table. “I was just helping.” Sharon answered. “I didn't know Damian hates mustard dressing. I didn’t mean to upset you.”

“Mom, I told you that not five minutes ago so you wouldn't put the dressing in! And I didn't ask for your help! I told you we were okay.” Y/n snapped. She was done with this, it wasn’t just about her anymore, Damian got dragged into it and she didn’t want her mother to do the same to her kids. It took everything inside them not to explode with anger. “You know what, it’s fine. I guess you just have to tell Damian he can’t have any of the salad.” Y/N sounded rather toxic. A hand running through her hair. They tensed up, which only got worse when Sharon reached out to them. 

“I’m getting the napkins I guess..” Tessa said as she turned away from her mother. leaving the dining room as quick as she could. “What’s going on?” Bruce asked as he walked into the dinning room with the wine that matched the steak. Seeing how Alfred and the boy’s were looking over at Sharon. “What did you do?!” Bruce asked Sharon, rage already boiling inside him. Sharon didn’t answer at first. So Bruce handed Dick the wine and stepped closer to Sharon. “What. Did. You. Do?” His eyes spitting fire.

“I just fixed the salad and Y/N flipped out. It's only some extra mustard dressing, I'm sure Damian wouldn't mind.” Sharon answered.  “Ts, I do mind, Sharon. Mom didn’t tell you not to do it just because.” Damian rolled his eyes. He was done with his ‘grandmother's’ shit. “I'm gonna find mom.” He said before pushing the bowl with potato wages into Jason’s hands. Not caring if he would keep balance before storming off. Sharon looked a little nervous when her husband walked into the dinning room. “What’s wrong with Damian? He looks like he wants to murder someone.”

Everyone turns to Andrew, making the man a little nervous because of all the tension. “Okay who died? and where is my Sweetpea?” Andrew asked as he looked around the room. Once his eyes fell on Sharon he didn’t need anymore answers. “Sharon what did you do?”

“I was just trying to help! Y/N/N didn’t like it and got mad at me.” Sharon answered, luckily Andrew knew his wife and knew Y/N wouldn’t just get mad. “She is just overreacting and overly sensitive about Damian not liking mustard.” She added shortly after, making Dick and Jason even more angry. Andrew sighed as he rubbed his forehead. He was disappointed in his wife once again. “Sharon, you are so out of your mind right now. This is really insensitive of you and i can’t believe you did this. I hate saying this, but you are just like your own mother.” Those words of course hit like a ton of bricks for Sharon. 

Sharon gasped at Andrew’s words before slapping him. This made everyone gasp and Dick quickly walked over to check on Andrew. “What is wrong with you?” He hissed to Sharon. Bruce however was quiet, too quiet. He walked over to Sharon with a purpose, almost like an animal on a hunt. He grabbed Sharon by her arm and walked to the entrance. shuffling her coat and bag into her arms before shuffling her out the door. Jason throws Sharon’s shoes out of the door right after. “and don’t come back!” He yelled.

Jason looked up at Bruce, seeing the rage still present. “Go check on mom and Damian please. I'll help Dick, Tim and Alfred with gramps.” Bruce didn’t say anything to Jason’s words, but he did give Jason a proud smile before going to look for his wife and youngest son. 

<------------------------------------------------>

Bruce found his wife and youngest son in one of the lounge rooms, both cuddled up on the couch. With a sigh of relief Bruce walked over to the couch and sat down next to Y/N. “Love? Starlight?” Bruce ran a hand over Y/N’s head and down her back. Y/N and Damian both leaned against Bruce. “Hey baby bird, did you protect momma for me?” Bruce asked Damian, knowing his youngest would always protect Y/N especially with the way she protected and loved Damian. 

“Momma needed some space, but not alone space.” Damian answered as he leaned against his father. He too tried to comfort Y/N, but he felt how closed off his mom was right now. He knew she was just trying to stand up to her own mother, knowing a little about that himself, but it hurt him to see her so hurt. Bruce ran a hand over Damian’s hair. “That is very thoughtful of you Dami.”

The three of them sat there for a few minutes in silence. Damian and Bruce didn’t know how to reach Y/N right now. Bruce knew his wife and knew she was dissociating right now. He didn’t like it when she did that, but he understood why she did it now. Especially after what happened with her mother. It was hard for him, but right now he had to wait. 

“I don’t get it… That she would do this to me and my siblings, yes… But to her grandchildren… Why would she not listen to me when I say a child is sensitive to something… Why would she not listen to a mother when she is one herself!? when she knows how it is to not be listened to too!” Y/N started, first she was saddened by it all, but it quickly turned into anger. "WHY?!"

Tears quickly formed in her eyes. “why wouldn’t she listen to me?... Why would…” Y/N stopped as she was pulled into Bruce’s lap. “Because your mother is not the mother you are. She is a mother, but not a mother by heart like you are, love.” He answered in an attempt to sooth his wife. He whipped away her tears and kissed her forehead. “You fought for your son, something Sharon would never do. You would go against anyone and everyone, your mother wouldn't, that is what narcissistic people do. She would manipulate a situation to her will, something you would never even think about.” 

Bruce was right about those things, both Y/N and Damian knew that. “I know it’s hard when your own mother is not the mother you wish and crave she was. But we can’t pick our mothers, just the mother or father we want to be to our own children. You are a wonderful mother Y/N/N, a mother with a big loving heart and I am so so proud that you stood up to your own mother for Damian.” Y/N cried into Bruce’s chest at those lovefilled words. Words that made her feel like she did the right thing, that she did indeed was a good mother and not being pathetic or overreacting. Damian looked away. His father’s words hit him a little too, but he was going to hide that it did. 

Y/N sniffed her nose after a moment and whipped her eyes. “I’m okay, for now, i can be nice for dinner. I don’t want anyone to wait even longer.” She said, determined to not ruin the night even further. She was about to pull away and stand up, only to be held back by Bruce. “Love, don’t push yourself. Everyone is okay with waiting, they are mostly just worried about you. Besides Alfred and you are masters at reheating food, we can wait, truly.”

<------------------------------------------------->

In the end Y/N and Damian joined everyone again after calming down a bit. Bruce quickly went to his office so he could contact his lawyer, wanting nothing more than to help Andrew divorce Sharon. 

Everyone helped with getting dinner ready once more, the overdressed salad washed down and in the compost bin. Everything was reheated just right by Alfred’s magic hands and Y/N made sure the cold meals were not bad or too warm. The boy’s finished setting the table and Andrew sat down as everyone worked. He didn’t like it but Y/N told him to, he just had one of the biggest fights with his wife and was going to prepare for a divorce. He needed a little break. 

Dinner itself was wonderful, filled with laughter and a warm loving glow going around the room as everyone enjoyed the food.

“Is the salad okay?” Y/N asked Damian once she saw him take a few bites of one of the other salads that were made. She was still a little worried after the previous events. “Yes, momma, the salad is perfect.” Damian answered with a big smile on his face. appreciating the concern she showed for him. Something he loved about her, something that really made her his mother. Made her their mother. Y/N gave Damian a soft smile, glad the salad was to his liking. Glad all the food was to everyone’s liking. 

The older boy’s were happy to see their mother back to her usual self. This was their mother, the person who meant the most to them. the person who was there when their own mother’s weren’t. The person who loved them no matter what they would do. Their comfort and home.

Bruce grabbed Y/N’s hand underneath the table and gave her a smile. “You look beautiful, love. Like a queen.” He complimented her before lifting her hand. giving it a gentle kiss. “A queen who is nothing without her king.” Y/N answered with a big smile on her face. This was home.

[astars-things]

Hate and comfort

Lando norris x reader

Summary- where y/n joins quadrant athletes and gets hated on because people only think she got in because Lando is her boyfriend. (Mix of Insta edits, written and tweets, also please lmk if you like me adding the tweets or not, in my inbox or comments )

*I don't own any of these photos they are from pinterest

Liked by @.maxfewtrell @.Landonorris and others

@.Quadrant Please welcome the newest adrenaline junkie to the team Y/n. Y/n has been a part of the Nitro circus for 4 years, pulling off world-class stunts and we can't wait to see what she can bring to the team.

tagged @.Y/n.L/n

view comments

@.Hater Wait so she does flips in the air and we’re calling her an athlete?? be serious.

@.hater2 Nepotism wins again 💅

@.maxfewtrell welcome to the team y/n/n

@.Hater3 I just unsubscribed

@.Y/n.L/n Thank you for signing me 💚

→ @.Hater4 SLUT

You laid in your hotel bed, tears rolling down your face as you read the comments, you have had your fair share of hate. Being a woman in a male-dominated sport you were judged, if you cried you were over sensitive, if you have male friends you're a slut, If you celebrated, you were cocky and the list goes on. But this was different.

What made it all harder was the fact that you were completely alone. Melbourne was another stop on tour with Nitro Circus, just another city, another crowd. You were 10,000 miles away from your family and friends, the people who had stood trackside in the pouring rain just to see you land your first flip. You were 8,000 miles away from Lando, the one person who could make the noise fade with just a look, the only one who knew how to hold you when the world got too loud.

Your relationship had only been going on for about a year, you both had made a decision not to go public, with all his crazy fan girls and the media, it would have just torn you two apart. Seeing all the comments on the new quadrant post made your brain go into overtime with thoughts filling your head 

Was Lando really worth the pain? Do I say anything? 

Just as your head was filling with more thoughts, you heard your phone buzz from where you had just dropped it 

Lando 🧡 Love, I know you are seeing the comments 

Lando 🧡  I wish more than anything i could be there right now just to pull the phone out of your hands and remind you who the fuck you are

Read

You turned your head to the side to read the clock that was beside your hotel bed, and when it read 1 am, you let out a sigh and opened up your F1 app so you could watch the Saudi Arabian race. For the first time that night, you smiled, watching Lando go from p10 to p4. You watched the podium celebration before putting your phone on charge and going to sleep, dreading what you were going to face tomorrow

That morning when you woke up your phone was just flooded with notification and it overwhelmed you, so you messaged your trainer and some of the staff letting them know you were turning off your phone, once the messages were sent you turned off your phone with a heavy sigh and got your head in the game.

You just had to get through practice tonight and the show tomorrow, and just a few more stops of the Australian leg of the tour. Then you can fly back home and be with your family and support system. The ones who didn’t question your worth or weigh your success against who you were dating.

What you didn't know was that Lando was currently on a plane to you. Rushing through the media of the Saudi Arabian Grand Prix. To then fly to Melbourne to hold you. (I know the timeline doesn't make sense, but this is fiction, not real life so just go with it)

Lando had messaged the team asking if they could help surprise you. Lando had given them a rundown of the situation and the plan of action. Luck was on Landos' side tonight, his plane landed an hour before practice was scheduled to finish, which meant he had enough time to quickly get your hotel room card from your trainer, have a shower, get some food for both of you and get some other essentials.

Lando sat on the edge of the hotel bed, waiting for you. Your trainer had sent Lando a message saying you were on your way up to the hotel room. Lando was mentally freaking out he wanted everything to be perfect, he could hear your voice from outside the door and so he stood up holding the flowers he got on his way to the hotel and stood there waiting for you to enter the room

You let out a slow breath, shoulders heavy with exhaustion, your mind already shutting down from the day. The door clicked open, and you pushed it gently, stepping inside. That's when you froze, your mouth wide open from shock, Lando is here like right in front of me, you thought, still not being able to let any words out

His voice was soft. "Hey, love." Before your mind could process what was happening, your body made its way to Lando. He held you with so much love. "I’ve got you," he whispered after a moment, lips brushing the top of your head. "I’m right here. Let it out, love."

Liked by @.Y/n.L/n @.Quadrant and others

@.Landonorris 8,000 miles. 18-hour flight. I would do it 100 times over again just for you...when you love someone as much as I love y/n, you’ll do whatever it takes to show up. I didn't travel across the Indian Ocean just to stay quiet 🧡

We have only been dating for a year, and y/n has been doing Nitro Circus for 4 years. Y/n is not here because of me she’s here because she’s damn good at what she does and I'm happy to be her wag and show the world how amazing she is.

So, to whoever this may concern kindly fuck off with your hate comments!

Tagged @.Y/n.L/n

View comments

@.maxfewtrell Damn y/n you really are lucky Lando wouldn't do that for me 🥲

@.user Lando is really the definition of "if he wanted to he would"

→@.Landonorris damn right I am

@.danielricciardo mate said 🏎️🏁✈️🏃‍♂️‍➡️🫂💥

*liked by @.Y/n.L/n and others

@.Quadrant Say it louder for the haters in the back 🧡

@.McLaren Well said, Lando. We stand with Y/N always.

Lando sat in the stands, with a Nitro hoodie, black jeans, with his white Air Forces on, he had a special surprise just for you, he’d been holding onto since landing in Melbourne. He just needed the perfect moment. Before the show, the team had asked if it was alright to feature him in the crowd during your performance you replied with "yeah sure fuck it"

You had your helmet, full gear on, and adrenaline pulsing through your veins, just waiting for the signal from the staff to announce you and the rest of the dirt bike crew. Once you got the signal, you rode out of the tunnel, riding up the ramp. In one fluid motion, you launched into the air, legs stretched behind you in a perfect Superman pose, landing clean like it was second nature.

The crowd was in chaos with all the cheering. You looked up at the jumbotron to see your boyfriend Lando with his hoodie lifted up to show off the t-shirt he was wearing,

Which was a black t-shirt with "Y/ns' #1 WAG" printed on with white writing, you stopped for a moment, your cheeks going red under your helmet, and soon you let out a little laugh.

Once the show was done, you made your way to the fan zone, quickly signing as much as you could before making your way to where Lando had been standing. Lando picked you up effortlessly, you wrapped your legs around his waist, and wasted no time in pulling him into a kiss

"You were amazing out there," Lando murmured, his voice full of admiration, his arms tight around you. You pulled back just enough to meet his eyes, your lips curling into a soft smile. "Thank you for showing up", You spoke with tears welling up in your eyes

"Like I said in my Instagram post, I would do it 100 times over again just for you", Lando said with nothing but love in his eyes placing another kiss to your lips. This was where you belonged, right here, in his arms

@.Y/n.L/n posted on her story

🎵Lover by Taylor Swift

please reblog and like 🫶

I think this is my favorite fic I've written so far...also, if you would like a pt2 or for me to turn this into an au in the future, please lmk in the comments or my inbox

[heesimp]

could u share how stepdad hoon and reader started their sexual relationship? who came onto who…did reader resist….feeling guilty to be enjoying it….stepdad hoon lowkey forcing…

I imagine Sunghoon married his wife out of convenience and because she was exceptionally easy fuck. He didn’t care about love and romance, or any of that bullshit. He just wanted available pussy and got hard on knowing she’d drop to her knees without him asking.

He knew she had a daughter in her last year of college but never formally met her. It’s not like he’s forgotten about it per se, but he figures the two of you aren’t close because his wife never brings you up and you never came around.

And when you did, something similar to electricity seemed to conjure up whenever he was in the same room with you.

His wife is fine and all, but she’s gotten so used to being married to a hot and wealthy man that she uses his money to fund her lavish lifestyle. It irritated him at first, because who is she to spend his money without asking? But you start to come over to their house during breaks. Winter holiday came around and being next to your bedroom 24/7 felt like an urge he was itching to scratch, never mind the fact that his wife slept next to him every time he had those thoughts. And when you weren’t home, it tortured him to imagine you wearing those shorts and push up bras you love so much. Sunghoon would fuck her in lieu of your body and wished he could be fucking you instead.

Truly, Sunghoon didn’t know who was the predator and who was prey. You act so innocent but don’t dress like you are. You say ‘please’ and ‘thank you’ and treat him like a true member of your family when your mom’s around, but you look at him like you want to devour him alive. He’s pretty sure you know he wants you too, but Sunghoon knows he does a better job at hiding it.

During your spring break, you elect to go home instead of a girl’s trip under the guise of not having money. Which is bullshit. Sunghoon could front the bill and wouldn’t complain either. But he told you that your mom’s out of town and won’t be back until after you leave for uni again. It seemed like a no brainer to come home that week and see what happens.

One movie turned into two, and suddenly you were sitting on his lip with your pussy wrapped around his hard dick.

“We waited too long for this,” Sunghoon says against your mouth without remorse. He leans his head back against the couch and flexes his naked abdomen when you clench around his dick. He starts to put his hands on your waist but you push them away and kiss him hard.

“Let me do all the work, Daddy.” Sunghoon moans. “You do so much for me. Let me make you cum. Just relax.”

“I’m relaxed, alright.”

With your feet planted on either side of him on the couch, you ride him until he’s gushing inside of you. He’s looking up at you like you’re some kind of angel, and you look at him like you’ve won a game. You don’t stop fucking his cock until he forcibly pushes you off of him, but that doesn’t deter you from acting like the nymph he knows you are.

You scramble to your knees and push him back down onto the cushion, slipping his wet cock into your warm mouth. He nearly orgasms again when you hum around him, licking up the remnants of his cum as your fingers gently massage his balls. Your throat constricts around him like you’re trying to take him down all at once. Sunghoon is so fucking impressed and can’t help but think how much better you are at sucking dick compared to his wife.

Eventually, your mouth releases his cock and he watches you bend your head down while stroking him. He grunts when your mouth sucks on his balls and enjoys the feeling of your tongue dancing between his sack. He loves this feeling so much and wishes he could bottle it up. Sunghoon loves that you’re so fucking horny all of the time, and you show it by getting on your knees for him in a way no one has ever done before.

Sunghoon refuses to cum a second time before you get the chance to first, though. You find yourself clinging onto his chiseled, naked body for dear life as he carries you to his bedroom and pushes you against the bed he shares with his wife. It makes you even better and Sunghoon can see just how turned on you are from the prospect of how taboo and dirty this is. He thinks you like being his little secret and he’ll do anything to make sure your pussy is satisfied.

“Daddy’s cock is big, hm?” he tuts. He pushes his hard tip in and pulls it out, pushing and pulling over and over again until you whine. “Or is my stepdaughter’s pussy too tight?”

“Both!” You scream. “Your cock is so big, Daddy. Bigger than I’ve ever had.”

“God,” he moans, sinking right into your hole. “This is so wrong, but I think you like being a dirty slut, don’t you? My baby loves knowing she can get my cock whenever she wants.”

“Wanna fuck you all the time,” you babble when he thrusts in and out of you. His dick is so warm. It’s too good for you to ever let go.

He brushes your damp hair from your forehead and kisses you there. “My stepdaughter is so fucking gorgeous when she’s naked. You’re so messy and pretty when you’re under me.”

You’re close. So close. But he pulls out and pushes you onto all fours until he’s buried to the hilt again with his big sack resting against your clit. It makes you moan like never before and Sunghoon nearly bursts when you arch even further as you push your breasts against the soft mattress beneath you.

So he fucks you like that, hands on either side of your hips while he raises himself to balance his body as he fucks into you from behind. His balls clap against your soaked cunt to the point that he can feel your cum making him sticky. Sunghoon doesn’t stop until he’s cumming too, but even then his thrusts are still ongoing.

Neither of you care that you’re both overstimulated. Sunghoon keeps going and going, pushing your mixed cum in and out of you. He feels it dripping down his balls but doesn’t care about that right now.

Over the course of the week, you and Sunghoon go at it like never before. The sex between the two of you is cosmic and euphoric, like two addicts who need each other to survive. He never uses a condom and you never ask him to put one on, consequences be damned. There isn’t an inch of this house you two haven’t had sex on.

And he’ll admit it. The idea of cheating on his wife with his step daughter keeps him hard.

[pitchsidestories]

the matchmaker II Steph Catley x Reader

romantic masterlist | platonic masterlist | word count: 1742

summary: A tulip field, a runaway dog, and an unexpected meeting—when Calvin disappears for a moment, he comes back with more than muddy paws: he might’ve just found Steph her perfect match.

author's note: Hi everyone, we truly enjoyed writing this oneshot and hope it brings you just as much joy while reading it. 🌷🌷

disclaimer: everything in this fanfiction is purely fictional and nothing corresponds to reality.

Spring had officially arrived. The clouds had made space for some sunshine and the air smelled sweetly of the first blooming flowers. It was the perfect day for a trip to the tulip fields, Beth had decided. So, she had rallied a few of her teammates, packed up their dogs, and set out.

Now they stood at the edge of the fields. Neat rows of tulips stretched out in front of them in every shade imaginable. Around them, the space was buzzing with life.

Across the tulip fields was a square with wooden picnic tables and lined with food stalls, from which a delicious smell wafted over to them. People were busy being flowers, taking photos and sipping drinks. It felt like spring.

Calvin and Myle watched the crowd with wagging tails.

“It will be just like the Netherlands.”, Beth told her Dutch girlfriend brightly as they arrived.

Vivianne raised an eyebrow, unimpressed: “I very much doubt that.”

“But they even have Dutch food.”, Lotte pointed out, gesturing towards a stall selling poffertjes. The smell of tiny pancakes and powdered sugar filling the air.

“Won’t be as good as at home.”, Vivianne replied.

Her girlfriend elbowed her gently: “Viv, stop pouting for once and enjoy it. Look how excited Myle and Calvin are to be here.”

Vivianne looked down. Both dogs were sniffing the ground with twitching noses.

Steph nodded, reaching down to pet Calvins head: “Yes, both of them love it here.”

She then turned to her teammates and nodded toward another stall: “Wait here, I’ll get us all coffee. That will definitely lift up Vivs mood. Lotte, can you hold Calv for a second?”

Grinning, the defender took the leash from Steph: “Sure, come here, Calv.”

“Thanks.”, Steph smiled at her teammate and handed Calvin over. She crouched down at Calvins level for a second: “Don’t worry, I’ll be right back.”

While Steph got their caffeine fix, Vivianne looked across the tulip fields, arms crossed in front of her: “And they call this a tulip field?”

“Stop it and drink your coffee.”, Steph laughed as she returned, balancing a cardboard with to-go cups in her hands. She nudged one into Vivs hands. Just as she was about to pass one to Lotte, she realised that someone was missing.

“Uhm, Lotte? Where’s Calv?”

Panic flashed across Lottes face as she looked down at the now empty leash in her hand: “What? Oh my god, he was right here a second ago!”

“Don’t worry, he can’t be far. He’s probably where the food is.”, Beth said quickly, trying to keep the group calm.

Vivianne sighed, already scanning the crowd. “We’ll help you find him.”

With Calvins size, it wasn’t hard to spot him. He sat patiently in front of a woman in shorts, tail wagging as she scratched behind his ears like he had known her forever.

A relieved gasp escaped Steph’s lips the moment her eyes landed on her beloved dog—Calvin. He meant even more to her now than ever; he had been by her side when her previous relationship fell apart, helping her through the heartbreak.

“There he is!”, she exclaimed.

You looked up casually from the dog, only to meet the most enchanting brown eyes you’d ever seen.

“Oh, hi. Is this your dog?”

“Yes, that’s Calvin.”, the woman replied, her face lighting up with a smile that could outshine the spring sun. Wow, she’s gorgeous, you thought to yourself.

You turned your attention back to the dog you’d just met: “Hi, Calvin.”

For a moment, it felt like it was just the two of you, until you noticed three other women approaching and coming to a stop just behind her. Later, you'd come to know them as Beth, Lotte, and Vivianne.

“Oh, you’re Dutch too.”, the Manchester City player observed.

Her accent caught you off guard—it had a Scottish lilt to it, nothing like the Dutch tones you were used to. You gestured to the charming surroundings and explained: “Yes, I’m helping out some family here.”

“I told you this place felt authentically Dutch!”, the blonde chimed in, beaming up at the taller woman beside her, whose hand she held as if it belonged there. It didn’t take much to guess they were a couple.

To your surprise, Vivianne addressed you in Dutch: “Zorg je voor het eten of voor de bloemen?” (Are you taking care of the food or the flowers?)

“De bloemen.”, you replied with a soft smile. (The flowers.)

Beth nudged Steph gently, her blue eyes dancing with amusement: “Calvin seems to really like her.”

“Yes, he won’t leave her side. Calv, come on.”, Steph said, clearly entertained by her dog’s sudden loyalty.

With a cheeky grin, the blonde quipped: “Looks like Calvin wants her number before he goes.”

“Beth!”, Steph exclaimed, fingers running nervously through her hair.

You perked up, half-laughing, half-curious. “My phone number?”

With a cocky grin, Beth suggested: “He clearly wants to see you again. And so does his mum.”

“She does? Is that true?”, you asked, glancing hopefully at the dog’s owner.

Before she had the chance to overthink it, her lips were already moving, her voice tinged with a nervous edge—it had been a while since she’d done anything like this: “Uhm… yes. Yes, we do.”

“Wait.”, you said quickly, before stepping away for a moment. When you returned, you held out a small scrap of paper, your phone number neatly scribbled on it.

A shy smile played across your lips as you handed it to her: “Here you go.”

“Thank you.”, Steph murmured, instinctively pressing the note close to her chest.

“Don’t hesitate to call or text me, yeah? I just need to get back to work now.”, you responded with a gentle smile.

“Promise I will.”, she replied, eyes locked on yours as though she was trying to memorise the moment.

Her gaze lingered on you, following your every step until you disappeared into the colourful crowd, the blur of people and petals reminding her of the tulips scattered at her feet.

Lotte grinned, absolutely delighted by the interaction and petted Calvins head: “Didn’t know Calvin was such a matchmaker.”

“Looks like he has a lot of hidden talents.”, Beth agreed.

Steph smiled down at her dog: “Good boy.”

With a smirk, Beth nodded towards the piece of paper Steph was still holding: “Looks like you’ll have a date soon.”

“Yes. God, I’m so nervous. I haven’t been on a date in a while.”, Steph admitted, tension creeping into her posture.

“Just bring Calvin and you already have something to talk about.”, Lotte replied, only half-joking.

Just a few days and many text messages later, you were set to meet Steph at Hampstead Heath. Your heart pounded as you waited, a bouquet of flowers in your hands. You tried to calm yourself down by repeatedly reminding yourself that it was only a walk.

Suddenly, Calvin came running toward you, tail wagging furiously. He launched himself at you, trying to lick your face.

With a laugh, you bent down to greet him as Steph called him back.

“Hi, Steph. I saw these and had to think of you.”, you smiled when you finally greeted each other properly, holding out the bouquet.

Stephs eyes widened as she took the flowers: “Oh my god, they’re beautiful. Thank you so much.”

“You’re welcome.”, you smiled, feeling a blush rise in your cheeks.

She handed you a to-go cup and you made a mental note that you had essentially never seen her without a cup of coffee in her hand.

“I got us coffee. I wasn’t sure what you like but I thought I couldn’t go wrong with a flat white.”, she said.

You inhaled the aroma of the warm beverage: “Thank you. Flat whites are my favourite.”

“Oh, mine too.”

With Calvin growing impatient, he three of you began to follow a little path through the lush green grass.

“So, “, you said after walking a while in comfortable silence. “I know you like flat whites, your dog and flowers. What else is there to know?”, you asked after you walked a while in silence.

Steph pretended to think for a moment: “I’m a football player, I’m Australian if you haven’t noticed and I’ve never been on a date with someone my dog picked out.”

You chuckled, your gaze following Calvin as he trotted ahead: “To be fair, Calvin gave me most charming meet-cute I ever had too.”

“I’m sure he knew what he was doing.”, the Australian commented with certainty.

You smiled at him affectionately: “Absolutely.” For a moment, you paused before confessing: “I’m glad we met that way.”

“You are? This wasn’t too much, or anything?”, she asked, listening carefully. You quickly reassured her.: “No, it was perfect. I wouldn’t change a thing.”

The two of you sat down on the bench. Calvin curled up peacefully beneath it. From there, you both had a wonderful view of the London skyline, framed by a beautiful blue sky. For a fleeting moment, a butterfly settled on the dog’s nose.

Curiously, Steph glanced your way.: “Oh, good. So, you help out with your parents’ flower fields? What else do you do?”

“I usually work as a florist in the city.”, you replied.

Turning her attention to the bouquet in her hands, the footballer murmured with genuine admiration: “Wow. Did you make this?”

“I did. I love being creative with it.”, you confirmed.

Just a few hours earlier, you’d carefully arranged the flowers, wondering what she might like. It had also helped calm your nerves before the date, giving you something to focus on, something to do with your hands.

A beautiful smile lit up the brunette’s face: “They’re really lovely.”

“Glad you liked them.”, you hummed, smiling back.

From there, the conversation flowed easily. The nervousness of the first few minutes melted away under the lovely sunshine. The walk was filled with laughter and little stories, and both of you knew—you wanted to see each other again.

Steph and you yearned for more time together before you even parted. And when you finally had to, you ended it with a kiss, just as the sky turned shades of purple and pink above you.

With a soft grin, the defender knelt beside Calvin and whispered into his ear: “Thank you, Calv. I really do like her.”

In return, he gave a quiet, knowing bark—as if he understood completely.

image sources: https://www.instagram.com/bethmead_/p/DIjkYXIsH6Q/?hl=com&img_index=2

[spaceyaemonds]

Jack would be so tender with his daughter. I bet the reason she’s such a daddy‘s girl is because he just is always there. A silent protective figure, such a beacon of safety and I think Jack, even in his bad moods, he needs to be with his daughter. Even to his surprise because he’d think he was terrible company (would want to spare her) bc he’s moody and cynical. Even though she’s a baby they have a crazy understanding where they’re just at peace with one another, they kinda crave this silent closeness. It’s very cute/jealously inducing to mom.

I also think PittFest would be something hard for him to swallow because even though his family is safe, (they never went) it’s an event he can see his (eventual) wife and daughter going to and the knowledge that the world is kind of getting more crazier frankly terrifies him.

i love these future snippets of the cute domestic family. I’d love to see any more HCs if you got them. Like he comes home from a day shift and takes a bath with her while mom gets bedtime ready. He’s just in awe of her little baby toes and little rolls of fat as she splashes around getting out all that energy. He gives a big kiss on the head as she squawks in annoyance because he interrupted her playtime.

Or Jack and Robby trying to build a playhouse and absolutely flailing because there’s so many instructions and pieces. they end up taking the entire afternoon and rage cleaning several times, but after a couple of beers, they managed to complete it. of course, bug is annoyed the whole time she can’t play with her toy but playing princess tea party with her daddy and uncle Robby soothes her a bit.

Or Mama is getting a postpartum check up and Abbott going down to the ER to bother Robby with the baby, said baby getting whisked away by Dana, Perlah and Princess as they coo over her doughyness and gummy smile. Abbott is kinda like…they just stole my baby as he chats to Robby.

also like a little blurb of Collins and what she thinks of Mama and Bug. She was very present in the beginning of her life as she was still with Robby and she still has that closeness, but she did take a step back during the break up. Maybe it was her experience with bug that helped hee realize she wanted motherhood and during the Season 1 shift she sees Bug being a precocious toddler and it’s a bit of a tough pill to swallow. There’s like a complex feeling of love and jealousy, but then shame because of the jealousy, but overall love and sadness. She doesn’t regret her decision of abortion obviously because it was a right thing for her to do for herself at the time (and the optics of her relationship with Robby as her senior and honestly who knows if Robby could’ve handled it). But there’s always that ‘what would’ve happened’ especially as she’s facing infertility and since it seems that mama had a similar thing happen to her and made the opposite decision. Maybe as she’s driving home, she calls Mama and mama gives her her perspective about what she was feeling in deciding to keep Bug/how Abbot at that time was honestly a very reliable person and that helped her making her decision and how she thinks Collins is going to be such a great mother.

it’s not an over exaggeration to say I’m obsessed with this universe, and we’re constantly getting fed. You’re such a great writer and you really bring these characters to life. Thank you so much.

hi friend!! ahhh okay i’m answering this below the cut!!!

Jack loves his girl. Literally the second he sees her, his whole life is changed. He doesn’t leave her side unless he absolutely has to, which is more often than he would like for it to be. It’s a big reason why when he gets time with her, he just sits and holds her, at least while she’s still small enough to just want to be held. Before they all lived together, some mornings after a really rough shift, he just shows up at readers place, asking in a really solemn voice if he could just see her for a few minutes. Those mornings, he tends to spend the whole day with her while reader works unless she’s still being breastfed, then mom gets her for feedings. I definitely agree that he thinks he’s bad company! Especially as she starts getting older! But even then, they can just sit in silence, him watching her color or play, and her just wanting to be close to her daddy. Mom absolutely adores it, but can’t help but wish her baby wanted to do that with her too (even though bug literally goes to her mom all the time and they do almost everything together LOL).

When he goes home after PittFest, all he wants is to sit on the couch with his girls. When he heard the news, they had been getting ready to go to the aquarium, and he knew they were disappointed. He had to beg them to just stay in the house until he called. All he could think about was what would have happened if they had gone to the aquarium and it happened there? It shakes him to his core, and he spends that night extremely quiet with his baby on his chest and reader gripped to his left side.

I love them too!! This is just so much fun for me, I genuinely could not have imagined the amount of love that this is receiving, and I just am so glad to do and share all of this with you guys!! I have LOTS of headcannons!!

I think he craves doing the bedtime routine (feeding her, bathing her, putting her jammies on) after working a day shift because 1) it gives mom a little break but 2) that’s all the time he gets with her when he works days usually. He feels like he misses SO much that he just craves it. He also loves the baby smell mixed with the nighttime lotion, he’ll never admit it, but it helps him sleep at night too. He definitely also does interrupt whatever she is doing when he walks in, and though she sounds annoyed, her little laugh makes the annoyance worth it to him!

I’m gonna do separate drabbles for Robby and Jack building a playhouse, Jack taking the baby to the ER while mom gets a checkup, and the dynamics with Collins!!! Keep an eye out for those, I have lots of thoughts on them!!!

friend😭🥹🩷 this is so so sweet and i love how much you love it! your (and others who leave comments and asks) kind words keep me motivated to write! i know i said earlier, but i genuinely could have never imagined all of this positivity and kindness coming from my lil idea! thank YOU so much for your kind words!! i am so so SO excited to keep sharing it with you!! please feel free to send ANY and all thoughts/headcannons, just anything like this!!

[barbwritesstuff]

I'm struck with a sudden and unprovoked need to explain the romantic dynamics in Blood Moon and Thicker Than. I don't know why, and will not be taking questions at this time.

There are eight romanacable characters in Blood Moon.

Marco

Carrie

Vicky

Ed

Sergi

Shawnie

Roe

Farro

And nine in Thicker Than.

Tracy

Marcel

Erin

Nathan

Iliya

Freya

Ravima

Chris

Minjo

Starting with the werewolves...

Marco's whole shtick is the best friend. He's the goofy, kinda scrappy golden retriever guy who is fun, a little awkward, and prone to running his mouth. That dynamic doesn't change if you romance him. When it comes to the bedroom, he's super versatile. Top? Bottom? Rough? Gentle? Left? Right? No matter your preference, he's game.

Carrie brings the baggage so you don't have to. She needs a lot of love and understanding, especially at first, but if you're kind to her she'll let her guard down and open up. I wanted her dynamic with the MC to be all about that trust and that extends into the romantic and intimate scenes. Carrie's banter with the MC is her way of feeling safe... so yeah, that's in the sexy bits too.

Vicky is my Batman. Strong, stoic, silent... even when perhaps she shouldn't be. She's been through hell and back and her number one mission in life is to make sure no one she loves has to experience what she did. She also knows kungfu, because of course she does. Her romantic scenes are very, very gentle.

Ed is a sassy wee sweetheart. A genuinely good, and really smart guy who has to try so hard not to roll his eyes at the antics of some of the other werewolves. He's never dated anyone before, so the romantic dynamic is a little slower, a little sweeter, and a little softer. Because he's a virgin he'll set some boundaries in the bedroom. After all, he's still figuring it all out.

Sergi is a little late edition to the Blood Moon love interest roster. When I first invented the character, he was originally going to be way more of a background character than he ended up being. There's a bit of an age gap here, as Serge is a little older than the MC, and the relationship develops right at the end of the game. It's a kinda messy dynamic, a lot of trauma, helping each other recover through love, etc.

Shawnie is hot and she knows it. Curvy, sexy, playful, fun. Because the other female love interests lean a little bit bleaker, I wanted Shawnie to be for people who wanted a lighter, bubblier, more fun romance. That doesn't mean she's shallow or simple, but that she takes her fun where there is fun to be taken.

Roe is the alpha of the other pack and has some pretty intense feelings about power and being in charge. Expect some tussling in the bedroom. They've been an alpha for only a little while and have only recently started to realise how lonely it can be at the top. A lot of their romance is them realising they have that wall around themselves and figuring out how to navigate around it.

Farro is the only love interest in Blood Moon who is 'missable'. I.E. Depending on your choices, you may not meet him at all. He looks like a werewolf, even among werewolves, big and muscular with long hair and a beard. He's also a dad, a widower, and super introverted. However, behind closed doors, he's rather intense.

And now for the vampires (and non vampires) of Thicker Than...

Tracy is a bitch with a heart of gold. She's using you to escape the clutches of the cult that she's been trapped in for decades, and isn't quite sure if she can trust you either. But, despite all her sharp edges, she's the most ride-or-die person in the world. She needs some tenderness, but isn't shy about desire or romance.

Marcel does a really good job of acting the part of the scary, shadowy vampire lord, but the truth is, he's rather too easily charmed by plucky fledglings who push back against the system. He's also kinda a freak in the bedroom.

Erin is complicated. She's been fighting against the vampire court for decades and is a figurehead of the revolution... even though, in some ways, she doesn't really believe in it any more. I haven't written her intimate scenes yet, but the vibe I'm reaching for is a little messy, a little angry, just like she is. Also lowkey thinking of adding a threesome in with her and her human girlfriend in Chapter Four. I dunno.

Nathan is the vampire hunter, so if I had to give him a trope, it'd be enemies to lovers. He's kinda a badarse, but also really bad at looking after his own arse. He is, after all, catching feelings for a vampire. Also, he 100% doesn't get enough sunlight. The vibe is I-don't-know-if-I-should-kill-you-or-kiss-you.

Iliya is one big walking cliche, and that's why I love him. I wanted him to be the bodyguard romance, and he is that. He's also kind of a bastard in a I-will-betray-you-but-then-maybe-unbetray-you kinda way. Big, a little cheeky, and very hungry.

Freya is soft and kind and very trusting in almost every way. Unfortunately, that makes her a little (occasionally a lot) gullible. She wants to believe the best in people, even when sometimes it puts her in danger. My intension with her character was to contrast it with her witchy powers. She's a sucker, but she's also one of the most powerful necromancers alive (and is capable of consulting with some of the dead ones). Her romance is, like everything else about her, very soft and cosy. She will only use her powers on you if you're into it.

Ravima is perhaps my most classic vampire romance. They're dark, they're sinister, they're obsessed with art, with knowledge, with anything that will make immortality a little less boring. They also kinda want to eat you, but they also want to fuck you, and that's kinda the whole vibe.

Chris is my first (and last because oh holy hell the coding is hard) gender selectable love interest. They're only available to players who select the divorcee origin at the start of the game. That's because, they're the main character's ex spouse. Perhaps obviously, the romance route is very second chance romance.

Minjo has the weird honour of having the most Romeo and Juliet romance I've ever written. She's team werewolf, and you're a vampire. She's also a total MILF, and only available to characters who are also parents. Bond over being single and raising kids. I wanted to give her a dry sense of humour, and a down to earth sorta charm.

Anyway.

My number one goal with these romances was to make them all unique. I didn't want to copy paste the love scenes and change the names. I wanted them to all feel like different people and for their romance routes to feel different and unique to them. I don't know if I've fully achieved that. There's some that do overlap with each other, but I think I've managed to hit a few different spots on the love interest spectrum.

[joelslastofus]

[SUMMARY: Joel’s jealousy gets harder to handle knowing the history you and Tommy had.]

PART 4, the other parts are linked below this chapter.

“You watchin’ my girl undress?” Joel turned to him, the thought of his brother or any man trying to take a look at you this way made him feel…territorial.

It had been a month now since the truth came out. A month since Tommy learned you had cheated on him with Joel, and as much as Tommy tried to act like the understanding brother that knew Joel was in love with you, there was a lingering anger brewing inside him.

Of course there was, Tommy felt Joel didn’t deserve you to give him a chance, he felt he was the better choice and you failed to see it. It felt strange having a relationship with Joel after the way things happened, you avoided seeing Tommy as much as possible. Even after apolgizing to him you didn’t have the face to be with Joel in front of him in his house.

It was plain wrong.

Joel knew his brother was still upset at the situation but he didn’t know just how much of a grudge he was holding. Watching you and Joel outside the window every morning, being affectionate, kissing him, talking with him as if nothing happened, it wasn’t fair. But Tommy knew how he could get his revenge, see only he knew just how much of a jealous side Joel had. Although Joel tried to move along with you these past few weeks, he knew damn well that Joel couldn’t stop thinking about the fact that you slept with Tommy at all. You knew Joel must’ve thought about it, although, he promised you he would never bring it up.

Joel kissed you by your front door before heading off to work. He could feel you softly push him away as his tongue swirled around yours.

“Ok, ok..not here”

He sighed as he took a step back.

“Tommy can come out any minute” you whispered softly brushing your hand up his chest.

“I know but we can’t stay hidden forever, he knows we’re together” Joel attempted to argue but simply by the look on your face he tightened his lips. You knew he didn’t like it, he felt he should be able to freely show his woman how much he wanted her without worrying about his brother. He wasn’t proud about how things had gone down, but Tommy admitted to him he didn’t love you, he insisted for his brother to go on with his life…but he wasn’t honest to himself.

Tommy had kept silent about you as much as he could but it was getting harder for him to stay that way. Driving the truck to work, Tommy looked over at his brother eager to start up a conversation. Easy to find a way to speak of you.

“So how’s y/n doin’?”

Joel hesitantly looked over at his brother, not expecting to hear your name from his mouth.

“She’s fine”

“Guess that pill worked huh?” A sarcastic tone played with a smile, Joel’s brows furrowed.

“S’cuse me?” He knew damn well what pill Tommy was referring to. That damn after pill that Joel had secretly hoped wouldn’t work.

“Ya know, her plan B or whatever-“

“I know what the hell youre talkin’ about, why are ya speakin of it?” Joel snapped. Tommy shrugged with a light laugh.

“Just sayin’”

Later that day at work with a few other men, Joel overheard one of the guys speaking on what their wife was into. From afar he shook his head hearing the men get lost in their stories until Tommy began to share his.

“This last girl I was into, she liked it real rough” he smirked as he continued to work, he knew Joel would be listening in. The second Tommy began bragging about a sexual encounter, he looked up from the corner of his eyes, lips pressed tightly wondering if he was speaking of you. It had to be.

“Don’t they all” one of the guys interrupted with a laugh.

“Na this one was somethin’ else man. She melted into a damn puddle the second I’d wrap my hand around her throat” he looked over to see Joel biting his inner cheek, attempting to block out the conversation, keeping himself busy but he knew damn well he was listening.

“Oh she sounds like a wild ride” another man responded with excitement.

“It was a one time ride I wouldn’t mind testin’ out again” Joel instantly looked up hearing the two men laugh.

“What’s so funny?” He stopped what he was doing walking towards them.

“Just a story he was tellin’ me bout some broad” the guy responded with a laugh.

“How about we get back to work and stop the damn chit chat, maybe then we’d get home in time for dinner” the men stood silent as Joel turned back to where he was.

The drive home was silent until Joel’s beeper went off. Tommy looked over seeing Joel adjust himself in his seat.

“You in a rush to be somewhere?”

“Got plans”

Tommy smirked knowing those plans were with you, especially having Sarah stay at her friend’s house tonight.

“Whatchu guys doin’ tonight? Just some fun or-“

“None of your damn business”

“Hey, Joel relax. We’re brothers, we’re good, we can talk about this”

“No, no we can’t” he looked at the road ahead in silence thinking over what he overheard at work. A part of him aching to confront him about it, while the other half fought to ignore it. He promised you he wouldn’t let it get to him. But Tommy could see it, the tension on him as he stared at the road ahead of what he had heard but he wouldn’t give in.

“Aren’t cha gonna ask me?” Tommy peaked over at him as he drove

“Ask ya what?” Joel responded low.

“If I was talkin’ bout ya girl before”

“Stop while you’re ahead” he warned just as Tommy pulled up into the driveway.

“Look it’s nothin’ personal, sometimes we talk about the women we’ve had and-“ Joel stepped out of the car slamming the door shut.

You heard Joel’s truck just outside your window. The excitement you felt whenever you knew he returned home, excitedly you walked out the front door to see him walking towards your front yard. But your smile instantly dropped when you saw his face, you knew something was wrong.

“Oh come on, Joel. It ain’t that serious” you looked over to see Tommy by the truck calling out to him. Awkwardly you stood there when you and Tommy locked eyes. The second Joel saw him staring at you he walked faster towards you.

“Come on, get inside” he whispered, his hands finding your waist gently pushing you back into the door.

“What happened?” You whispered looking up at him.

“Nothin’, just get inside” you did as he asked hearing him slam the door shut behind him after you both walked in. He looked agitated, even if he didn’t want to admit it, you knew him very well.

“Baby, what’s wrong” you whispered gently caressing his face, he looked down at you for a moment silently. You could tell he was thinking something but he wouldn’t say what. In that moment Joel was having intrusive thoughts, thoughts bought upon his brother. The thought of his brother touching you in ways he was only ever meant to. His mind once again thinking of that night that he walked in to the house with your moans echoing down the hall. Now, thanks to Tommy with more visuals. Joel knew you loved him but his jealousy was tearing into him deeper and deeper. How rough was Tommy with you? Did you want him to be more rough with you?

Joel suddenly grabbed your face and kissed you in a way he never had. You squealed stumbling backwards before feeling his hand on your lower back pulling you against him.

“Joel..” you whispered a bit confused as he kissed your neck. He moved aggressively, abruptly picking you up and sitting you on your desk.

“Joel wait-“ his hand grabbing a chunk of your hair, tugging at it harder than he ever had. You gasped as he held your head in place, his lips parting from yours, he stopped and looked down at you for just a moment.

“Is this how ya like it?” He whispered as you stared up at him confused.

“I-“

“Tell me” he demanded. You didn’t understand where this was coming from.

“Is this what had you screamin’ in that room with him?” His brows furrowed as you abruptly pushed him back making him let go of your hair.

“Excuse me?!” You jumped down from the desk walking towards him.

“Is that what this is about?!”

“What, from what I hear you like it a little rough” it was as if he wasn’t himself speaking to you. Anger in his eyes he let his emotions get the best of him.

“You promised you’d never-“

“Yeah I know” he cut you off coldly.

“Get out” you whispered looking away. Embarrassed by the whole situation, never had you regretted something so much. He didn’t move for a moment, for just a second he felt guilt. He didn’t like speaking to you this way, he hated seeing you upset.

“Get out!” You screamed.

Joel more angry at himself than anything walked out slamming the door shut.

“Hey you’re back early” Tommy grinned as Joel walked in.

“Get outta my way” Joel uttered under his breath before walking past him angrily and into his room. Tommy raised his brows wondering what happened, apart of him pleased to see some kind of tension between you two.

Tommy went to his room, enjoying his drink he began looking for one of his magazines he always loved to take a look at after a long day until he looked past his window. Taking a double look, he realized he could see you walking into your bedroom. You seemed upset but quickly brushed away any tears. Curiously he continued to watch and that’s when you began to take off your clothes. Tommy took a step closer, he watched as you walked around the bedroom in your bra, a smirk on his face when Joel suddenly opened the door. Tommy’s face instantly dropping the second Joel appeared. Joel instantly noticing the smirk on Tommy’s face just a second before.

“You don’t knock?” Tommy turned away from the window casually walking to his desk.

“What were ya lookin’ at?” Joel furrowed his brows knowing damn well what was outside of his window.

“Nothin’ man just-“ Joel walked into the room, his boots loudly hitting the floor when he noticed you, clear as day through your window. Taking your ear rings off and letting your hair loose, he could see you in your bra not having a clue you were being watched.

Tommy began to laugh nervously.

“Look, Joel.. it ain’t my fault-“

“You watchin’ my girl undress?” Joel turned to him, the thought of his brother or any man trying to take a look at you this way made him feel…territorial. Tommy stood silent, he knew that look his brother had..he knew exactly what it meant.

“Joel, I ain’t see nothin’” he walked backwards as Joel slowly walked towards him. Built up resentment he could no longer hold inside.

“Come on, man, if we’re being real….its not like it’s nothing I haven’t already seen” and with that, Joel blacked out.

After changing out of your clothes and putting on a robe you suddenly heard your doorbell going off.

“What the hell?” You came running down the stairs to see Joel through the window.

“What the hell is wrong with you-“ you opened the door ready to scream, ready to argue when you noticed a bloody lip and raw knuckles.

“Joel” you whispered he stared down at you out of breath.

“Look, I’m sorry for what I said. I’m sorry for hating the idea of any man having had you let alone…my damn brother-“ you could hear the desperation in his voice.

“You’re mine and-“ he shook his head as if he was trying to find the right words to say.

“I can’t stand the idea of anyone else touchin’ ya, dammit. If that makes me a jerk then I’m sorry” you couldn’t help but attempt to hold back a smile.

“The hell ya smilin’ at?”

“I’m sorry, it’s not funny. I just-wow…I didn’t know you could be this jealous. Listen, I’m really sorry about all of this, Joel. It’s a tricky situation” you gently took hold of his arm and pulled him in the house.

“I don’t wanna fight” you whispered.

“Neither do I” he assured you.

“Look at you” you thumb gently going over his bloody lip.

“Yeah that was-“ he looked away ashamed.

“Tommy and his damn mouth”

“Ignore him”

“Kinda hard to do that, especially with you and ya damn blinds being open-“

“What?” You looked up at him confused.

“He saw you in your bra-“

“Oh shit!” You shook your head.

“I completely forgot I took my wooden blinds off to buy new ones. I was suppose to get them today”

“I’ll get em and have em up for ya, tomorrow”

You could tell Joel wasn’t gonna take no for an answer and simply nodded.

“Got it” you smiled and took him to the kitchen to help clean him up.

“Well…is he ok?” You hesitated to ask as you put a bag of ice to his lip.

“Didn’t leave him to bad, we’re fine though…just needed to-“

“Let it out?” You raised a brow. Joel took a deep breath with a nod before you gently took his face and kissed him softly on his forehead.

Sorry about the tags, for some reason it gave me an issue to tag anyone here.

[mylovesstuffs]

OT13 with high maintenance s/o

A/N: Lost that ask in the void probably but this was requested by an anon 😭

Seungcheol: He’s high-key into it. He’ll really buy you five perfumes for one outfit because he knows how you love to have options. Carries your bag, memorizes your skincare steps, and pre-orders your faves before you even ask. The man lives to spoil you.

Jeonghan: Master manipulator meets diva energy; a match made in heaven. You want all the attention? He’ll give it, but he expects it back. He’s playful about it, teasing, “You’re so high-maintenance, how do I even keep up?” But he still loves being your only person. Lovesssss to buy you random things and loves how you take care of yourself.

Joshua: Smiles through it but definitely needs a manual at first lol. He adjusts quickly though. You want to look fancy for brunch? He’s coordinating his outfit. You’re picky about your drinks? He’ll memorize your order. If it makes you happy, he’s down, becaussseeeeeee, you’re his priority. He loves it that you know what you deserve and don't settle for anything less.

Jun: He actually finds you fascinating and loves you for iy. You take two hours to get ready, you'll find him watching you get ready. He’s supportive, maybe even starts copying you lmao. You want to look like royalty? Let me help you pick your crown; prime example of this behaviour.

Hoshi: In the beginning of the relationship, he was very confused but committed. “Wait… we’re late because your lashes weren’t symmetrical?” He’s learning on the job but he tries so hard. Gets overly proud when he finally gets your coffee right. Always enthusiastic: “You look like a queen!!” his queen.

Wonwoo: Ykw? Chill king with the drama [slaying] queen 💅🏻 Your energy overwhelms him a bit, but he secretly likes that you bring noise and color into his monotonous world. He’ll listen patiently to you rant about hair serum vs oil like it’s life-or-death. Buys you gifts with zero complaint [and he actually wants to buy you things you like].

Woozi: Internal screaming intensifies. You’re the opposite of his minimalist lifestyle, but he adapts because he cares. “Why do you need thirty throw pillows?” But he’ll fluff them anyway. He’ll get grumpy sometimes, but his love language is lowkey acts of service. Expect him to custom-make you a personalized closet system just because he can 🤷🏻‍♀️

Dokyeom: Thinks it’s adorable, will hype you up so much. “You’re so picky about everything… that’s so cute!!” He loves and so into pampering you and making you happy. Carries your shopping bags, takes outfit pics from every angle, and sings to you while you do your 10-step routine.

Mingyu: He’ll do your skincare with you. He’s got the patience for your outfits, the taste for your aesthetic, and he lives to treat you like royalty. “You want another lip gloss? Cool, let’s get six.” He’s your chauffeur, chef, stylist, and biggest fan. He's a loser for you fr, mark my words.

Minghao: Absolutely supports it—as long as it’s within lines. He doesn’t mind your preferences, but if it’s for show or insecurity, he’ll call it out. “If this makes you happy, I’ll support it. But don’t feel like you have to be perfect for anyone, not even me.” Will treat you with respect and spoil you in his refined, minimalist way.

Seungkwan: Overwhelmed, but will do it all anyway. You want to go to three stores for the right nail polish shade? “I—okay, let me grab my bag.” Complains like a sitcom husband, but deep down he loves being needed. Will absolutely turn into your glam team. “You want curls or waves today, baby??”

Vernon: Baffled, blinks a lot, He’s like, “You need four lip oils? What do they even do?” But he’s chill. He won’t always understand the need, but he’ll support you. Might even help you compare filters for selfies. “You like the third one? Cool, post it.”

Dino: You confuse the hell out of him at first, but he adapts. This man is willing to learn. You want luxury, so he’s reading reviews. You like constant attention? He’s there. High-maintenance doesn’t scare him, instead, it motivates him. If that’s what you need, he'll figure it out.

[celestialtarot11]

Your FS personality and their lifestyle 💐🩷

Hey friends! Welcome back! As requested: here ya’ll go! My semester is ending and its been so crazy here as I’m getting ready to leave :) i hope you all enjoy the reading below. Any and all comments, reblogs and likes are sincerely appreciated! Keeps the blog active if you’d like to continue seeing more content. ☀️💐 I do love spring and lately im even more excited for the blessings summer will bring!

♡ Pile 1:

Hanged man, 6 of pentacles, king of cups, 9 of swords

Hey welcome here pile 1! Your FS is incredibly emotionally intelligent and aware of themselves and others <3 it’s so sweet I feel like they could be a vet, doctor, nurse or a practice at the moment. Even a school counselor, advisor, a researcher. They prefer to wear comfy luxurious clothing—nothing that screams in your face, but they come across as light on their feet, ethereal, graceful. I’m hearing they hold the room with ease meaning their energy is what captivates the room. Your FS is also someone who struggles a lot mentally because they are so aware, and this isn’t uncommon in intelligent people. Sometimes we know too much. Your person tries to think of all possible scenarios, outcomes, ideas, etc. it can get difficult to manage. They are curious, and love joking around and have this sense of home to them. Therefore they’ll also take care of the home too, they might have an established apartment/house. Something that really draws people in, and makes people wonder how they have that money to support themselves. They can also live alone at this time, but ate open to helping others. Super super generous and kind, they may have libra, or water placements in their chart 🤍 they see the good in others and try to elevate people. They are seen as stable, calming and supportive. I also feel like they have a lot of wisdom—you’ll know right off the bat of meeting them! You won’t need time second guess that they are intelligent <3 they can even have a pisces placement as well! Or you can meet them in a pisces month. Or this could be you with a pisces placement :) they do love spontaneous adventures like hiking, camping, anything to do with “home” and coming together they really enjoy. They can cook very well—i heard salmon soo they really enjoy cooking 😩 I’m talking really good salmon. Too tier food!! Its also aesthetically pleasing to look at, because they have an eye for detail. They also could be in a prominent position at their work right now where they are seen as again, an advisor, manager, admin, counselor, consultant of some kind and they generate a lot of money off of this. They don’t feel stressed out about their home life & financial situation! And if you need their help financially they will be there, they’re so blessed they are able to help others too <3 ultimate golden retriever energy. They might have blonde hair, leans ash blonde, dark blue eyes. They may have a youthful appearance, especially their cheeks and eyes make them look smaller and younger. They might have the smile of a wealthy person (im not sure how to describe this) its more of an energy of when they smile. For female I see brunette hair, she might have a business or job surrounding occupational therapy where she helps others. Your person likes ASMR lmao. Thanks so much to everyone reading this <3 I appreciate any and all support!

Craving more insights? I do personal readings too—deep, detailed, all about you. Tap [here] to get your own magical reading today! Limited spots, and I love tuning into your energy.

♡ Pile 2:

Knight of swords, knight of cups, strength, 5 of wands

Heyy welcome!! Thank yall for being here. Your person is so so conversational and wears their heart on their sleeve <3 you’ll see it right away. They are strong in their values and prefer to have relationships that are heart centered, touching and fun. They also like to be a fun person—not just someone who is nonchalant, im hearing they cant stand that energy! They give life so they need life. Possible zodiac signs include Leo, Aquarius/gemini. They are so talkative in a way that’ll have you giggling, they know exactly how to talk your ear off and they’re so sweet. They’re incredibly loyal to their friends and to you once you meet them. They may prefer to wear softer colors, colors that aren’t typically expected for their gender…? So they definitely could have experienced gender differences and double standards for sure. But they’ve honed in their identity now and aren’t afraid to show it. They are charismatic, enigmatic, they also may love synth music with a lot of reverb or just songs that sound ethereal. Like pastel ghost, crystal castles, etc. they have an electrifying presence and its zappy—and fun! They may seem one foot in the door way because their mind has so many tabs open lol. I feel that they are the type that when something great happens they think of you. “I cant wait to tell you about this moment.” And they’ll hold onto that for the rest of their day :) thats so cute. As for their family background i see a lot of tension, there’s disagreements and conflicts possibly because they do not have an education, or they took a different route that involves trade school. Or they were undervalued by their family a lot for being softer—people mistook that for weakness. It doesn’t even have to be family related it could be friends too. Their ex friends! They have worked on themselves emotionally and they have a lot of resilience and patience, and although sometimes they can speak without thinking, they mean well. Their brain just goes everywhere at once! Im hearing they could have ADHD too. They have a lot of big dreams, ideas, visions for their future! They often get overwhelmed by their fantasies because they sometimes dont know how to create it, how to cultivate it, or bring it into reality and hold it. Not just letting it in—but holding it. Allowing themselves to receive. They struggle with worthiness there. They can have a father figure who is very traditional, leans cold & distant and prefers logic over emotional matters. I also saw 11:11 as I write this! So even more confirmation for you. They honestly have a whimsical heart at best and although this father figure shunned it, they learned to reveal it elsewhere :) Thanks to everyone who has been here! Please like comment and reblog to boost <3

Craving more insights? I do personal readings too—deep, detailed, all about you. Tap [here] to get your own magical reading today! Limited spots, and I love tuning into your energy.

♡ Pile 3:

The fool, strength, magician, and 2 of cups

Hey welcome pile 3! Appreciate having you here :) your person is a interesting mix. Like a cocktail lol. They are free and adventurous and open but practice restraint and discipline. They don’t want to be reckless—they want to enjoy without hurting themselves which is a great trait to have. They are charismatic, powerful speakers even. They could have a job where they are a speaker, consultant, legal consultant is what I heard, they could be in therapy, social work, they could work with children in a way! They are seen as a strong leader, bold and cheerful and intelligent. They also feel confident in themselves to succeed and they are quite optimistic in their approach to life. Im hearing life dealt them a cold hand and so thats why they work with disadvantaged people, people who were oppressed and hidden by the system. Especially children. They remember what its like to be stuck. This person really truly cares about one on one connections, they don’t do well in group settings but they try. They mostly focus on seeing the person in front of them completely and because of this people get scared of intimacy is what I heard. Your person has a lot of emotional depth and even spiritual awareness. I wouldn’t be surprised if they were practicing spirituality or reconnecting with ancestral roots. They have healed and alchemized a lot of their past pain. Random note they may have a cat. Lol. Your person is incredibly loyal—but first they do come forward strong so people wouldn’t step all over them. Theres definitely apart of them that years for emotional comfort & their past, but this isn’t something people see easily unless you’re close to them. They love nurturing their inner child, their inner child comes out a lot in supportive connections. They are currently looking for that in their life <3 having someone else who is their other half. “You’re my sun, im your moon” is what I heard aww. Thats cute. This person is hopeful they’ll be meeting you soon! I wonder if you’ve also been in sync with this person energetically and receive so many signs and dreams about them lol. Almost drives you nuts! But you love it :) speaking about nuts they might be allergic to it. Kinda random lolll. Their possible signs could be in a water sign (cancer scorpio pisces) or fire! Thanks to everyone being here! <3

Craving more insights? I do personal readings too—deep, detailed, all about you. Tap [here] to get your own magical reading today! Limited spots, and I love tuning into your energy.

Extra

Thank you all once again for being here <3 your follows are sincerely appreciated!

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[catssluvr]

wilderness nat love languages headcanons <3

quality time:

⭑.ᐟ Spending time with you is her favorite thing and that means staying awake at night after a long day, even with her eyes practically begging to be closed, just to be able to enjoy your presence for a little moment.

⭑.ᐟ Loves to swim in the lake with you. Goofing around and tackling you into the water for the whole time. Splashes water onto your face when you’re not paying attention, mumbling fake apologies as she hugs you in a tight embrace and giggles at your scowl.

⭑.ᐟ Takes you hunting with her even if you’re not that good at it, will lie to the others if she has to because who has to know you’re not good with a gun? She can just do it all herself while you walk pretty beside her.

⭑.ᐟ Takes you to the crashed plane or to a nice hidden place so you can both talk about whatever you want or even just sit in a comfortable silence.

words of affirmation:

⭑.ᐟ At first might struggle a bit to tell you of everything she thinks of but will quickly get used to the fact that she will only gain by giving you compliments and expressing the appreciation you deserve.

⭑.ᐟ Tells you she loves you every single day, mostly at more vulnerable times like when you’re both laying inside her hut before sleep or right after waking up. Will whisper it like a prayer into your ear as she kisses your temple gently.

⭑.ᐟ Is the best at reassuring you whenever you feel scared to do something or just at comforting you in general. Tells you about how brave she thinks you are and how you can do anything if you really want to.

⭑.ᐟ Compliments by Nat are given in the most gentle way, in a way you know she means every single word she’s saying.

⭑.ᐟ Will randomly throw compliments like she’s saying something else, telling you about how your hair looks pretty that day before continuing on with whatever task she’s doing.

⭑.ᐟ Whispers them in a more meaningful way when you’re having intimate moments, her eyes burning into your skin like a love flame. Like she’s desperate to just take you all in at once.

“Fuck, you’re so gorgeous, baby.”

acts of service:

⭑.ᐟ Always tries to have your plate be a bit more filled when you’re particularly hungry, even if that means she will eat less. Sneaks berries into your pocket when nobody is watching, casting you a gentle smile as she does so.

⭑.ᐟ Makes sure you have the warmest furs and sleeps in the side of the bed that’s closest to the entrance of her hut, instinctively wanting to keep you protected.

⭑.ᐟ Silently fixes your hair out of your face or even braids it when she notices it’s bothering you in hotter days, all this without waiting to be asked and simply happy to be of any help to you.

⭑.ᐟ Always has your back, defending you when someone tries to start an argument with your or acuse you of anything. Might even take the blame just so that you don’t get punished for something stupid, mostly in the last months of being in the wilderness.

⭑.ᐟ Does your chores when you’re not feeling particularly well because of your period for example , filling up your bottle of water and bringing you food to the hut. Even warms up some water and presses a warm cloth to your stomach to help with the pain.

physical touch:

⭑.ᐟ Considers the touch something crucial in your relationship, saving it mostly for when you’re both alone and get to touch each other as much as you want.

⭑.ᐟ Cuddles up to you at night, hugging your waist with a sluggish arm and nuzzling into your neck, occasionally murmuring incoherent words into it. When you make fun of her bed hair in the morning she will bury her face in your chest and pout like a baby until you kiss it off.

⭑.ᐟ When you’re sitting by the fire she will have her shoulder pressed to yours, taking glances at you once in a while. Sometimes she feels brave enough to interlace her fingers with yours or even lay her head on your shoulder in a sleepy affectionate gesture.

⭑.ᐟ Takes you somewhere private after hunts so you can finally kiss without getting interrupted by any of the girls. Making out until it gets late and you absolutely have to get back or they will get worried.

⭑.ᐟ Her hands will explore you all when she’s kissing you, trying to memorize every single detail of you. Fingers tracing your skin softly as she litters kisses from your jaw to your neck.

⭑.ᐟ Adores playful touches like tickles or gentle bites, mostly if they don’t fail to make you laugh at her antics.

gift giving:

⭑.ᐟ There’s not many options of gifts out in the wilderness but Nat really tries to make an effort at finding meaningful things. Will bring you little pebbles that she found to be pretty on a walk or get one every time you two go out into the woods some time together just to keep the memory eternal.

⭑.ᐟ On spring brings you colorful flowers and sometimes even helps you braid them into your hair. Starts with just picking a random flower in the nature but quickly evolves into making you the prettiest bouquets that she asks one of the girls to help her with.

⭑.ᐟ Makes bandanas and air bands for you with clothes that she won’t be wearing. She even makes two if the fabric is big enough so that you both get to be matching each other.

⭑.ᐟ Gives you on of her rings so you get to keep a bit of her at all times, it’s basically your promise ring. Kisses it whenever you’re holding hands.

[shotosjupiter]

BACK TO THE KITTY 'CAUSE SHE'S KINDA PRETTY!

— jjk men and what kind of pet cat they'd have. fluffy and gn! reader <3 this audio was stuck in my head so i decided to make it the title </3

𖤐 GOJO spoils his little tuxedo cat horrendously. this man has money and he ensures that half of it is going to his lavish cat's lifestyle and the other half to you. he loooves his cat dearly and he makes you come with him to go shopping for her! he values your opinion deeply from the food choices down to what new cat tower he should get.

a silly thing he enjoys is matching outfits! he'll have his cat wearing a bandana that is the same color as his shirt. he'll ask you to do a subtle matching couples outfit - the same color scheme and once you're all dressed he'll insist on taking many pictures together. "it's a family photo, angel! we're all matching, isn't that cute?" (he ends up making it his lockscreen for his phone for ages).

𖤐 CHOSO's orange cat balances his energy out perfectly. for someone whose more on the calm and collected side, his cat brings out the more outgoing and silly side of him. his cat is constantly doing something that has choso running out of his seat to go save his precious cat. once it was preventing his kitty from diving straight into a cup of matcha and another time it was prying his cat off the ceiling fan.

a big sign in your relationship is when he invites you to his apartment and introduces you to his cat! he loves his pet dearly and knowing that his cat approves of you means the world to him. when he sees his cat purring and rubbing it's head on your legs, choso smiles and feels his heart melt. he knows you're the one.

𖤐 NANAMI would have a distinguished little tabby cat. she's more of an elderly cat but nanami doesn't mind because it means peaceful mornings for everyone involved. one time, when you were sleeping over at his place early in your relationship, you woke up to a thump and a weight on your chest. what is it? it's nanami's cat sat right on your stomach, all comfortable like it's her birth right. she's kneading into your skin and purring in approval.

nanami, coming from the kitchen, visibly softens at the sight of you in his bed all warm, and his cat cuddling into you. he kisses your forehead in greeting, whispering good morning. he feels his heart race as he realizes, this is a sight he wants to see for the rest of his life.

𖤐 GETO had originally gotten a cat because nanako and mimiko had begged for one. he was definitely one of those people that insisted that he didn't want a cat and had put up a big fight against. cut to five months later and here he is spoon feeding his pretty tortoiseshell cat tuna treats.

for him, when he sees you interact with the girls and sees how gentle you are he's already smitten with you. on top of it, when he sees you gently petting the family cat, he all but melts into the floor. he adores the way you treat his family and it's the biggest green flag to him. he immediately wants to make you a part of his family.

𖤐 TOJI did not mean to adopt a cat. he really didn't, he has enough on his plate! the stray cat just followed me home, or so he says. he has a nonchalant attitude about his boy cat, as if he couldn't care less but really you'll find him in the pet store aisles reading through ingredients to make sure the food he's buying really is safe and healthy.

he'll laugh and laugh when you come over and you get jumped by his black cat as it tries to play with you. his cat is definitely a bit of a biter, so beware of that. regardless, toji will watch as you play with his stray-not-stray cat and feel a sense of home unfurl in his chest. he won't say anything but he'll have a wide smile on his face and he'll take the both of you in his arms, peppering kisses everywhere he can.

© shotosjupiter. do not repost, translate, or copy my work.

[writeriguess]

Hi hi hi! I’d like to request the following: pre-relationship Katsuki getting high with you for the first time ever, him being low-key nervous about it, but not wanting to show it

In the end he gets really relaxed, a bit giggly and cuddly with you and you ear pizza together and make out ❤️

Lit and Love

Katsuki Bakugo was many things—hot-headed, sharp-tongued, and always in control. But right now? He was a little bit nervous.

Not that he'd ever admit it.

You could tell, though. The way he sat stiffly on your couch, arms crossed over his chest, eyes darting to the joint in your hand like it might explode.

"You don't have to, you know," you teased, bringing it to your lips and inhaling. The cherry burned bright as you held the smoke in your lungs, exhaling smoothly.

"Tch. Shut up," he muttered, snatching it from you. His fingers brushed yours, lingering a second too long before he brought it to his mouth. He hesitated. "How much do I—?"

"Small hit. Don’t act tough."

Bakugo glared but listened. He took a slow drag, inhaled—then coughed violently.

"FUCK—!" He pounded his chest, face scrunching up. "This shit’s disgusting!"

You laughed, rubbing his back. "You get used to it."

"Not if it kills me first," he grumbled, clearing his throat.

But then he did it again. And again. Until the tension in his shoulders melted, his head lolled against the back of the couch, and his lips curled into a lazy smirk.

"You good?" you asked, amused.

"Yeah," he sighed, stretching. "Really fuckin’ good."

Silence stretched between you two, but it wasn’t awkward. It was comfortable. His usual scowl had softened, and his crimson eyes were slightly glazed over as he looked at you. Like he was seeing you for the first time.

"You’re pretty," he blurted.

You blinked. "What?"

He frowned, like he hadn’t meant to say it out loud. "You heard me."

A slow grin spread across your face. "Wow. The Katsuki Bakugo thinks I’m pretty? Must be the weed talking."

"Shut up," he muttered, cheeks pink. "You’re annoying."

But he didn’t stop looking at you.

And then he laughed. Just randomly laughed. Like he’d just remembered something hilarious.

"What?" you asked, giggling along with him.

"I dunno," he admitted, shaking his head. "Shit’s just funny."

God, he was cute like this. Loose-limbed, relaxed, not trying so hard to be the biggest badass in the room.

And cuddly.

Because, at some point, he’d slid closer, his arm draped lazily over your shoulders. His body was warm, radiating heat like a human furnace, and you didn’t mind at all when he leaned his head against yours.

"You smell good," he murmured.

"Now I know you’re high," you teased, heart pounding.

He just hummed, nuzzling into your hair like some sleepy, oversized cat.

"Pizza," he mumbled after a moment.

You snorted. "What?"

"I want pizza."

You laughed, reaching for your phone. "I’ll order some."

He hummed again, lazily toying with the hem of your hoodie. His fingers brushed your skin, and it sent a shiver down your spine.

"You cold?" he asked, tilting his head to look at you.

"No." You swallowed. "Are you?"

"Nah," he said, voice low, husky. His gaze dropped to your lips. "But I kinda wanna warm up anyway."

Your breath hitched. "Oh?"

He didn’t answer. Just moved in, slow but deliberate, pressing his lips against yours. He tasted like smoke and something uniquely him, and when you melted against him, he groaned into your mouth.

The weed made it so much better. Every sensation heightened—the warmth of his hands on your waist, the way his teeth grazed your bottom lip, the quiet little sound he made when you tugged him closer.

By the time the doorbell rang, signaling the arrival of your pizza, Bakugo was in your lap, and neither of you were in any rush to answer.