#leisure time vacation

[thisthat-ortheother]

*I know they are not mutually exclusive, but in your mind which is the primary meaning?

(Inspired by the tags to this poll)

[binders-and-beanies]

I hate rich people and no I’m not just talking about billionaires

[oceanxveiined]

Honestly, even when I add a new verse for the oc(s) and work them into a still-expanding canon, I like to think their presence in the area/time of the narrative is best justified as essentially them running a B-plot in a sitcom to the main quests/protagonists' journeys. Or like. Half the shit Team Rocket gets up to in the movies-

[lalosalamcnca]

i need to be travelling and in love right now

[openvimark]

(vía Camiseta de tirantes con la obra «Cheers to Friendship!: A Sunset Toast with Friends» de 0penvimark)

Discover our digital art and explore our products.

Descubre nuestro arte digital y explora nuestros productos.

Design/Diseño.

https://www.redbubble.com/es/shop/ap/162505422

Stores/Tiendas.

https://www.redbubble.com/es/people/0penvimark/explore?asc=u&page=1&sortOrder=recent

[hoziersong]

i am so. SO tired

[harmonyhealinghub]

The Evolution and Benefits of Reading Week Break at School

Shaina Tranquilino

February 17, 2024

In the midst of a bustling academic year, students often find themselves overwhelmed with coursework, deadlines, and extracurricular commitments. However, there is a beacon of respite that comes in the form of reading week break. This cherished period has become an integral part of many educational institutions worldwide. In this blog post, we will delve into the origins of reading week break and explore the numerous advantages it offers to both students and educators.

The Origins: Reading week break did not always exist; its introduction evolved over time as educators recognized the need for a designated period dedicated solely to rejuvenation and self-reflection. Universities began experimenting with breaks during the academic calendar by incorporating mini-vacations or study periods in their schedules.

The first official "reading week" was introduced in 1962 at City College (now City University of New York) as an alternative to traditional spring vacations. It aimed to provide students an opportunity to catch up on coursework, review materials, and prepare for upcoming exams. Over time, other institutions followed suit, adopting similar breaks during various parts of the academic year.

Benefits for Students: 1. Academic Recharge: Reading week acts as a much-needed pause button amid hectic semesters, allowing students to recharge mentally and physically. It provides an ideal chance to focus on catching up with assignments, reviewing course material, or delving deeper into complex subjects without competing distractions.

2. Improved Time Management Skills: During reading week break, students have ample time to reflect upon their performance so far and strategize for upcoming challenges. They can identify areas where they may be falling behind and develop effective time management techniques to stay organized throughout the remainder of the semester.

3. Reduced Stress Levels: By offering a reprieve from constant academic pressure, reading week helps alleviate stress levels among students. A temporary hiatus from deadlines and exams fosters better mental health, allowing students to return to their studies with a renewed sense of enthusiasm and focus.

Benefits for Educators: 1. Opportunity for Course Adjustments: Reading week break not only benefits students but also offers educators valuable time to evaluate the effectiveness of their teaching methods. They can reflect on course outcomes, identify areas that need improvement, and make necessary adjustments to ensure students' understanding and engagement in subsequent lessons.

2. Enhanced Student Performance: By actively utilizing reading week break as a period for self-study and review, students are more likely to excel in subsequent coursework assessments and exams. This improved performance reflects positively on teachers, highlighting the efficacy of their instruction.

3. Increased Classroom Engagement: Following reading week break, students often come back reenergized and motivated. Their refreshed mindset contributes to enhanced classroom participation and interactions, leading to an overall positive learning environment.

Reading week break has become an indispensable part of school calendars due to its numerous benefits for both students and educators alike. By granting dedicated time for reflection, rejuvenation, and academic catch-up, this period allows individuals to recharge mentally while fostering improved student performance and teacher satisfaction. As we continue to navigate through challenging academic journeys, let us appreciate the significance of reading week breaks as an essential component of our educational experiences.

[doom-dreaming]

i'm back on my bullshit in sims 4 DLC microtransaction hell because i had a Stupid Idea

[alexawesomeblog]

Benefits Of Taking The Time To Choose the BEST Travel Bag.

Travelling is an exciting and enriching experience that opens us up to new cultures, landscapes, and adventures. Whether you are embarking on a short weekend getaway or a long-haul international trip, one essential aspect that can significantly impact your journey is the choice of the travel bag. Investing time in selecting the best travelling luggage bags in Sri Lanka for your needs can bring forth a plethora of benefits that will enhance your travel experience in numerous ways. In this article, we delve into the advantages of taking the time to choose the best travel luggage in Sri Lanka.

Comfort and convenience.

One of the primary benefits of opting for the best travel bags in Sri Lanka is the comfort and convenience it provides. Sri Lanka travelling often involves navigating through airports, train stations, and crowded city streets, which can be physically demanding. A well-designed bag with ergonomic features, such as padded shoulder straps, adjustable handles, and back support, can significantly reduce the strain on your body during long walks or while carrying your belongings for extended periods. It allows you to maintain good posture and alleviate discomfort, making your experience more enjoyable and less taxing on your body.

Versatility and adaptability.

The best travel bags online are often versatile and adaptable, accommodating various styles and situations. Whether you are backpacking through remote areas, exploring metropolitan cities, or going on a leisurely vacation, a thoughtfully chosen bag can cater to different scenarios. For instance, a convertible backpack that can transform from a traditional backpack to a duffel bag or even a rolling suitcase offers flexibility as your requirements change. This adaptability allows you to seamlessly transition between different modes of transportation and diverse activities, ensuring you are well-prepared for any adventure that comes your way.

Durability and longevity.

Quality bags are built to withstand the rigours of voyage. When you invest in a durable bag made from high-quality materials and reinforced stitching, you can rest assured that it can handle rough handling by baggage handlers, exposure to different weather conditions, and constant packing and unpacking without showing signs of wear and tear. A well-constructed bag will accompany you on numerous journeys, becoming a reliable companion for your adventures over the years. Choosing a bag with a trusted warranty further adds to its longevity, as reputable brands often stand by their products and offer repair or replacement services in case of any defects.

Security and Protection.

When you are on the road, the security of your belongings becomes paramount. The best bags come equipped with advanced security features that provide peace of mind during your journeys. Lockable zippers, RFID-blocking pockets, and slash-resistant materials are some of the security measures incorporated into modern bags to safeguard your valuables from theft and unauthorised access. Additionally, specialised padding and protective compartments can shield delicate items like laptops, cameras, and electronic devices from accidental damage during transit. Knowing that your belongings are safe and protected allows you to focus on enjoying your journey without worrying about potential theft or damage.

Efficient Packing and Space utilisation.

Packing efficiently is an art, and the right bag can make a significant difference. Many high-quality bags are designed with ingenious packing systems that maximise space utilisation. They may include compression straps, dividers, and packing cubes, enabling you to neatly organise your belongings and fit more into a compact space. Efficient packing not only saves time but also prevents overpacking, which can lead to excess baggage fees and unnecessary hassle. With a well-organised bag, you can easily locate items without having to rummage through your belongings, streamlining your experience and reducing stress.

Lightweight Travel Experience.

Travelling with heavy luggage can quickly become a burden, hampering your mobility and overall experience. Opting for a lightweight yet sturdy bag allows you to carry more essentials without adding excessive weight to your shoulders or back. Lightweight bags are particularly beneficial for those who prefer to trek with carry-on luggage only, avoiding the need to check bags and reducing the risk of lost luggage. Moreover, lightweight bags are easier to lift and manoeuvre, making your journey through airports or up staircases much more manageable.

Reflecting Personal Style.

Travel bags come in a myriad of designs, styles, and colours. Choosing the best bag lets you reflect your personal style and preferences. Whether you prefer a sleek and minimalist design, a rugged outdoor backpack, or an elegant leather duffel, the bag you choose becomes an extension of your personality and adds a touch of flair to your ensemble. Expressing your style through your bag allows you to feel more confident and comfortable during your journeys, enhancing your overall experience.

Sustainable Travel Choice.

Sustainability and environmental consciousness are becoming increasingly important in the world of travel. Many manufacturers are now producing eco-friendly and sustainable bags using recycled materials or ethically sourced fabrics. By selecting a bag from such brands, you can contribute to reducing your carbon footprint and promoting responsible travel. Additionally, choosing a durable and long-lasting bag reduces the need for frequent replacements, which ultimately reduces waste and the demand for new products.

Cost-Effectiveness.

While investing in a high-quality bag may require a slightly higher upfront cost, it can prove to be a cost-effective choice in the long run. Cheaper, lower-quality bags may wear out quickly, leading to frequent replacements that accumulate expenses over time. On the other hand, a well-chosen, durable bag is an investment that serves you well for years, saving you money on replacements and repairs. Furthermore, some premium bags offer added features and functionalities that can eliminate the need for additional accessories, such as packing cubes or locks, saving you money in the long term.

In conclusion, the benefits of taking the time to choose the best bag are multifaceted and far-reaching. A well-chosen bag provides comfort, convenience, and adaptability, ensuring that you can navigate your journeys with ease and style. Its durability and security features protect your belongings, offering peace of mind during your adventures. Moreover, efficient packing and lightweight designs enhance your experience, making your trips more enjoyable and hassle-free.

When choosing a bag, it is essential to assess your specific needs, preferences, and the types of journeys you undertake. By investing in a quality bag that aligns with your requirements, you set the foundation for a more comfortable, organised, and memorable experience, allowing you to focus on the joy of exploring new destinations and creating cherished memories along the way. Whether you are a frequent explorer or an occasional adventurer, a well-considered bag becomes an indispensable companion on your journey, making every trip a seamless and delightful experience.

[qualiacumque]

My favorite part is that apart from mass winning, this doesn’t directly correspond to population. Connecticut has more people than Maine and Vermont combined and yet falls handily behind both. Even worse for New Hampshire which should have slightly more than Maine and significantly more than VT by population and yet is miles behind both in this poll.

Even if you redistribute the “why would you do this” votes based on population, CT and NH still can’t climb past the Green Mountain State or Vacationland.

[inkskinned]

love when men cry about body hair bc "it's hygiene" and yet 15% of cis men leave the bathroom without washing their hands at all and an additional 35% only just wet their hands without using soap. that is nearly half of all men. that means statistically you have probably shaken hands with or been in direct contact with one of these people.

love when men say that women "only want money" when it turns out that even in equal-earning homes, women are actually adding caregiver burdens and housework from previous years, whereas men have been expanding leisure time and hobbies. in equal-earning households, men spend an average of 3.5 hours extra in leisure time per week, which is 182 hours per year - a little over a week of paid vacation time that the other partner does not receive. kinda sounds like he wants her money.

love that men have decided women are frail and weak and annoying when we scream in surprise but it turns out it's actually women who are more reliable in an emergency because men need to be convinced to actually take action and respond to the threat. like, actually, for-real: men experience such a strong sense of pride about their pre-supposed abilities that it gets them and their families killed. they are so used to dismissing women that it literally kills them.

love it. told my father this and he said there's lies, damned lies, and statistics. a year ago i tried to get him to evacuate the house during a flash flood. he ignored me and got injured. he has told me, laughing, that he never washes his hands. he has said in the last week that women are just happier when we're cooking or cleaning.

maybe i'm overly nostalgic. but it didn't used to feel so fucking bleak. it used to feel like at least a little shameful to consider women to be sheep. it just feels like the earth is round and we are still having conversations about it being flat - except these conversations are about the most obvious forms of patriarchy. like, we know about this stuff. we've known since well before the 50's.

recently andrew tate tried to justify cheating on his partner as being the "male prerogative." i don't know what the prerogative for the rest of us would be. just sitting at home, watching the slow erosion of our humanity.

[lqvesoph]

A thin line between love and hate || LN4

landonorris x fewtrell!reader

enemies to lovers, brother’s best friend

Summary: Through your brother’s friendship with Lando Norris, your families have been interwined for as long as you can remember. Seven years had passed since you last saw your brother’s best friend, and you were thankful because he really was one huge pain in the ass. But now your families decided to go on vacation together, where the tension between the two of you shifts

Part 1

1.1k words

masterlist

Part 2

The days at the villa drifted by in a blur of sun-soaked mornings and leisurely afternoons. Despite the picturesque surroundings, there was no escaping Lando. It seemed as though everywhere you went, he was there—ready with a smirk, a taunt, or some infuriatingly charming quip.

At the beach, you were determined to enjoy the soft sand and glistening waves, but Lando’s presence loomed.

“You ever even touched a volleyball, Bambi?” he called out, twirling the ball on his fingertip as if it were the easiest thing in the world.

“I don’t need lessons from you,” you shot back, shielding your eyes from the sun with your hand.

“Oh, come on,” he teased, jogging over to you, his hair a mess of curls from the salty sea breeze. “I’ll go easy on you.”

“I doubt that,” you muttered.

Before you could protest further, he was standing beside you, closer than necessary, holding the ball out. “Just a quick tutorial. What’s the worst that could happen?”

You took the ball begrudgingly, ignoring the amused glances from Max, who lounged nearby under a sun umbrella, Pietra in his arms.

It didn’t take long for your “lesson” to descend into chaos. Every serve from Lando came with a side of mockery, and every return you attempted was met with a running commentary.

“Almost had it!” he laughed when the ball hit the net for the third time.

“Maybe if you weren’t distracting me—” you started, only to stop when he darted closer to grab the ball. His smirk was annoyingly close, the sun lighting up the mischief in his eyes.

“Distracting? You think I’m distracting?”

Max’s voice cut through the moment like a knife. “Oi, Lando, stop flirting before she decks you.”

Your cheeks burned. “He’s not flirting. He’s just being a pain, as usual.”

Lando didn’t miss a beat, his smirk deepening. “Maybe both.”

You turned away quickly, heading back to the water, but you couldn’t shake the feeling of his eyes on you.

That evening, after another lively family dinner, you found yourself alone in the villa’s spacious kitchen, stacking plates for the dishwasher. The sound of footsteps behind you made you glance up, already knowing who it was.

“Ever the helpful one,” Lando said, leaning against the counter with a lazy grin, his arms crossed in front of his chest.

“Some of us like to pull our weight,” you replied, keeping your focus on the plates. “I know that’s foreign territory for you, Mr. gets his meals prepped like child and has always someone to clean up after him,” you took a not so subtle dig at the boy.

But Lando didn’t even respond to it. “And here I thought you just liked avoiding me,” he teased, his tone lighter than usual.

“I don’t need to avoid you,” you shot back, stacking the last plate a little harder than necessary.

“No?” he asked, stepping closer.

When you turned to face him, your breath hitched. He was standing so close now, his presence filling the small space between the counters. The grin on his face had softened into something almost… sincere.

“Admit it,” he said, his voice quieter now, his gaze locked on yours. “You missed me.”

Your pulse quickened, but you refused to let him see how he was affecting you. “Missed your constant harassment? Not a chance.”

Lando chuckled, but the sound was low, almost intimate. “Come on, Bambi. Be honest.” He leaned in, his hands braced on the counter behind you, effectively caging you in.

You huffed. “I don’t even get the option to miss you. I’ve seen you multiple times on TV over the last five years, each Sunday actually.”

“Oh so you watch my races?” Lando teased with a smirk, licking his bottom lip, which caught your attention for a second too long. “No, my friends watch your races. I don’t. And I can’t miss you if I can’t go anywhere without seeing your face planted on a random store window!” you called, pressing back into the kitchen counter.

“And still, you’ve been watching me all week.”

The air felt too thick, his proximity making it hard to think. His scent—something clean and warm—washed over you, and your heart was pounding in your chest.

“What are you so afraid of?”

“I’m not afraid of anything,” you managed to say, your voice sharper than intended.

His lips twitched into a faint smirk. “Then why are you blushing?”

“I’m not—”

In a panic, you shoved at his chest, breaking the tension as he stepped back with a laugh. You crossed your arms, glaring at him, though your cheeks betrayed you with their warmth.

“You’re impossible,” you muttered, brushing past him to leave the kitchen.

But as you walked away, you could still feel his gaze on you, a lingering heat that stayed with you long after you left the room.

tg: @harrysdimple05

[alisainez]

Get Out Of Chronic Illness…

How To Plan A Year’s Worth Of Vacation LOVE YOURSELF💚 Planning a year’s worth of vacation plans can be a fun and exciting process. Here are some steps that you can follow: 1. Set your budget: Determine how much you can afford to spend on vacations for the year. 2. Identify your priorities: Think about what is important to you, such as cultural experiences, relaxation, adventure, etc. 3.…

[elodieunderglass]

Hey bestie whats a narrow boat? I saw you tag that on something you reblogged and I'm pretty curious now!

- Terry Darlington, Narrow Dog to Carcassone

A narrowboat (all one word) is a craft restricted to the British Isles, which are connected all over by a nerve-map of human-made canals. To go up and down hills, the canals are spangled with locks (chambers in which boats can be raised or lowered by filling or emptying them with water.) As Terry says above, the width of the locks was somewhat randomly determined, and as a result, the British Isles have a narrow design of lock - and a narrowboat to fit through them. A classic design was seventy feet long and six feet wide. Starting in the 18th century, and competing directly with trains, canal “barges” were an active means of transport and shipping. They were initially pulled along the towpaths by horses, and you can still see some today!

Later, engines were developed.

Even after the trains won the arms race, it was a fairly viable freight service right up until WW2. It’s slow travel, but uses few resources and requires little human power, with a fairly small crew (of women, in WW2) being capable of shifting two fully laden boats without consuming much fossil fuel.

In those times the barges were designed with small, cramped cabins in which the boaters and their families could live.

During its heyday the narrowboat community developed a style of folk art called “roses and castles” with clear links to fairground art as well as Romani caravan decor. They are historically decorated with different kinds of brass ornaments, and inside the cabins could also be distinctively painted and decorated.

Today, many narrowboats are distinctively decorated and colorful - even if not directly traditional with “roses and castles” they’ll still be bright and offbeat. A quirky name is necessary. All narrowboats, being boats, are female.

After a postwar decline, interest in the waterways was sparked by a leisure movement and collapsing canals were repaired. Today, the towpaths are a convenient walking/biking trail for people, as they connect up a lot of the mainland of the UK, hitting towns and cities. Although the restored canals are concrete-bottomed, they’re attractive to wildlife. Narrowboats from the 1970s onward started being designed for pleasure and long-term living. People enjoy vacationing by hiring a boat and visiting towns for a cuter, comfier, slower version of a campervan life. And a liveaboard community sprang up - people who live full-time on boats. Up until the very restrictive and nasty laws recently passed in the UK to make it harder for travelling peoples (these were aimed nastily at vanlivers and the Romani, and successfully hit everyone) this was one of the few legal ways remaining to be a total nomad in the UK.

Liveaboards can moor up anywhere along the canal for 28 days, but have to keep moving every 28 days. (Although sorting out the toilet and loading up with fresh water means that a lot of people move more frequently than that.) you can also live full-time in a marina if they allow it, or purchase your own mooring. In London, where canal boats are one of the few remaining cheapish ways to live, boats with moorings fetch the same prices as houses. It can be very very hard for families to balance school, parking, work, and all the difficulties of living off-grid- but many make it work. It remains a diverse community and is even growing, due to housing pressures in the UK. Boats can be very comfortable, even when only six feet wide. When faced with spending thousands of pounds on rent OR mooring up on a nice canal, you can see why it seems a romantic proposition for young people, and UK television channels always have slice-of-life documentaries about young folks fixing up their very own quirky solar-powered narrowboat. I don’t hate; I did it myself.

If you’re lucky, you might even meet some of the cool folks who run businesses from their narrowboats: canal-side walkers enjoy bookshops, vegan bakeries, ice-cream boats, restaurants, artists and crafters. There are Floating Markets and narrowboat festivals. It’s generally recognised that boaters contribute quite a lot to the canal - yet there are many tensions between different kinds of boaters (liveaboards vs leisure boaters vs tourists) as well as tensions with local settled people, towpath users like cyclists, and fishermen. I could go on and on explaining this rich culture and dramas, but I won’t.

Phillip Pullman’s Gyptians are a commonly cited example of liveaboards - although they were based on the narrowboat liveaboards that Pullman knew in Oxford, their boats are actually Dutch barges. Dutch barges make good homes but are too wide to access most of the midlands and northern canals, and are usually restricted to the south of the UK. So they’re accurate for Bristol/London/Oxford, and barges are definitely comfier to film on. (Being six feet wide is definitely super awkward for a boat.) but in general Dutch barges are less common, more expensive and can’t navigate the whole system.

However, apart from them, there are few examples of narrowboat depictions that escaped containment. So it’s quite interesting that there is an entire indigenous special class of boat, distinctive and highly specialised and very cute, with an associated culture and heritage and folk art type, known to all and widely celebrated, and ABSOLUTELY UNKNOWN outside of the UK - a nation largely known around the world for inflicting its culture on others. They’re a strange, sweet little secret - and nobody who has ever loved one can resist pointing them out for the rest of their lives, or talking about them when asked to. Thank you for asking me to.

[muniimyg]

♡ 01: baby, i'm a dog

series m.list // taglist

note: welcome to part 1 !!! this fic is def a diff vibe ,, kinda chill and jus sad LOL … tbh if i hate it i’ll jus edit it as a one shot cos #yolo #idc but also…. i fear this jk is a vibe

//

the cabin's front door slams shut behind jungkook.

his laughter spills into the cold air as he jogs to his car, tossing the keys to taehyung mid-stride. 

the hoseok and nam joon had roped him into a last-minute supply run—apparently, they underestimated just how much beer and snacks a group this size could burn through in one night. the crunch of snow under his boots and the slap of wind against his face brought a sharp clarity, a brief reprieve from the weight he'd felt the entire drive up here. 

he works nonstop all year… he only gets a few days of vacation. yet, this is how he spends his precious leisure days.

a part of him is still trying to figure out why he even came.

"think fast, shithead!" taehyung called, tossing the keys back. 

jungkook catches them effortlessly, smirking as he spins them around his finger.

as he opens his mouth to make a comeback, the sound of tires crunching over ice makes his chest go tight. instantly, he recognizes that it’s yoongi’s girlfriend’s car—but something about the way it’s driven pulls him further into himself.

jungkook is a car guy. 

he’s the car guy and knowing cars means knowing the people behind the wheel.

the way they park, the way they brake, even the rhythm of their turns.

and this car?

it parks too carefully, too smoothly.

it’s muscle memory that makes him stand straighter, his heart stumbling over itself. because he knows exactly whose hands are gripping the wheel before he even sees your face.

taking a few steps back, he watches as the suv rolls into the driveway, something heavy settling in his chest.

the sound of the car door opening snaps him out of his daze.

and it all suddenly feels like a fever dream. 

with the snow falling slowly and the way his heart skips a beat—you step out and completely stop his world.

you’re bundled in a cream puffer jacket and your cheeks flushed from the cold…

and you smile at him.

like, really smile at him. 

and jungkook thinks to himself; 

fuck.

you’re still so pretty. 

so fucking pretty. 

then, his mind blanks. 

he doesn’t know how to move, doesn’t even know how to breathe. all he can do is stare.

“jungkook!”

before he can even respond, you’re walking toward him, arms open.

he freezes when you hug him.

it’s not long—just enough to share a little warmth—but it’s enough to knock the air clean out of his lungs.

three years.

it’s been three years since he’s seen you, and now you’re here, wrapping him in a moment that feels too easy for all the time that’s passed.

is... is this easy for you?

because he can't breathe right now.

“i convinced her to come last minute,” yoongi’s girlfriend, mei, says. she’s practically bouncing with excitement. “the weather grounded her flight, and i told her it’d be way better to spend a few days with us than to sit around waiting.”

you pull back from jungkook and smile up at him like it’s nothing.

like he hasn’t been caught in the shockwave of your presence.

like you aren't the love of his life.

“figured it’d be fun,” you say lightly, brushing a strand of hair from your face. you glance around and squeal at the sight of your old friendgroup. “plus, i missed you guys.”

the others swarm in, laughing and throwing their arms around you, saying how long it’s been. jungkook hangs back, struggling to keep up with the reality in front of him. this wasn’t how he thought this trip was going to go.

as jin and yoongi haul your bags toward the cabin, you turn back to jungkook. your shoulder bumps against his as you tilt your head.

“is it okay that i’m here?”

he blinks at you.

“why wouldn’t it be?”

your shrug and look around. “nam joon’s your friend. this is his family cabin… i’m just your—“

“it’s fine,” he interrupts you.

silence.

then, you break it with a question and your signature soft tone.

“did i surprise you?”

jungkook nods stiffly, words caught in his throat.

"good."

... is all you say before you’re gone, following the others into the cabin, leaving him standing in the cold.

it takes a second, but his feet move on their own, trailing after you without a second thought. like a dog, he thinks, tail wagging behind its owner.

his hands clench into fists at his sides as he walks, the cold biting at his skin through his jacket.

you're here.

you're actually here.

they have invited you over and over again to friendgroup trips and you've only attended a handful of times. take note that those specific times were the ones where jungkook had rsvp'd no.

so this...

this?

this is completely beyond him.

you... in the flesh feels like some cruel cosmic joke to him. the kind of joke where the punchline cuts deep and leaves a scar.

three years.

three fucking years of trying not to think about you, of convincing himself he’d moved on.

three years of pretending he didn’t still see you in every corner of his life. he told himself he'd be ready for this moment if it ever came—that he'd have the right words, the right attitude, anything but the mess of disbelief and guilt twisting in his chest right now.

but here you are, running into his arms like none of it matters. like the years apart haven’t clawed at him the way they clearly didn’t claw at you.

he knows he shouldn’t be surprised.

you always were good at carrying things with grace, even when he was busy breaking them—breaking you.

a part of him feels bitter. he wishes you had a mean bone in your body. perhaps, he'd feel better... but you don't and all he's can think about is how good you smell.

“what the fuck," jungkook mutters under his breath, dragging a hand down his face as he steps into the cabin.

the warmth inside doesn’t reach him.

not really.

his heart is still somewhere out there in the cold, stuck in that driveway where you looked at him like nothing’s changed.

like he’s still someone worth smiling at.

as you get settled, jungkook and taehyung excuse themselves again and leave for their little grocery run.

when they come back, an hour later—the plastic grocery bags cutting into his fingers as he kicks the snow off his boots.

laughter drifts from the kitchen, light and easy, mingling with the clatter of pots and pans. the scent of something savory hangs in the air, and for a moment, he lets it lull him, the warmth easing the tension in his shoulders.

“finally,” yoongi groans, swooping in to grab some bags from jungkook. “we thought you guys got lost or something.”

“tae couldn’t decide between doritos and cheetos,” jungkook mutters, rolling his eyes as he shrugs off his coat. “turns out we needed both.”

“damn right we did,” taehyung calls from behind him, slamming the door shut with his foot.

jungkook lets their banter fade into the background, his eyes instinctively drawn toward the kitchen. 

you’re there. 

standing near the counter, sleeves rolled up as you stir something in a pot. your hair’s pulled back, a few loose strands framing your face. you’re laughing at something yoongi’s girlfriend says, your hands moving gracefully as you gesture, completely at ease.

the view of you is so clear, yet so vivid in his memory.

it makes his heart ache.

it’s like you’ve always been here, laughing, stirring pots, and looking so effortlessly beautiful it makes his chest ache.

like he’s coming home to you again. 

“earth to jungkook?” jimin snaps his fingers in front of his face, smirking when jungkook blinks, caught. “you good?”

“yeah.” the word comes out too sharp, and he clears his throat, shrugging past jimin. “just gonna change.”

he doesn’t wait for a response and heads upstairs. the weight in his chest grows heavier with every step, a knot tightening in his stomach. when he reaches his room and pushes the door open, he freezes.

his bags aren’t where he left them.

instead, a collection of white baggage are stacked neatly in the corner. irritation flares, but it’s quickly doused by confusion—and a sinking realization.

“jungkook?” your voice calls softly from behind him, and he turns to see you at the top of the stairs, slightly out of breath.

you’re holding onto the banister, your other hand fiddling with the hem of your sweater. the soft fabric brushes your fingers as you glance at him, your expression tentative.

“the girls—um—mei, bria, and the others—they thought it’d be better if we moved your stuff,” you say, stepping closer. your voice is calm, and measured, but there’s a nervous energy in the way your eyes dart toward his. “i told them it wasn’t necessary, but they figured it’d be easier if... well, you know.”

jungkook leans against the doorframe, crossing his arms over his chest. 

“so you’re gonna take my room?”

“it was our room for three years.”

“it’s been three years.”

“that’s true,” you hesitate, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear. “they put your stuff in jimin’s room. but i was just coming up to say, i can totally switch and room with joon’s girlfriend and make joon and jimin room together. i mean, it’d be a good chance to bond—”

“take the room.” his voice cuts through your rambling, low and firm.

your eyes widen slightly. 

“are you sure? i really don’t mind—”

“yeah,” he says, shrugging. “the only other option would be to share it with me… so…”

you pause, a laugh bubbling out before you can stop it. 

“that’d be crazy, right?”

something flickers across his face, too quick for you to catch. then, he straightens, his expression calm but his words heavy. 

“would it be though?”

the question hangs in the air, your laughter fading as his gaze lingers on you. his tone is light, almost teasing, but there’s something beneath it—something you can’t quite name.

you look away, brushing your hand over the doorframe as if needing something to ground you. 

“thanks, jungkook,” you say softly, the words carrying a warmth that feels too intimate. “i appreciate it.”

but before you turn, your hand reaches out, ruffling his hair in that way you used to when you thought he was being ridiculous. 

his breath catches, and he doesn’t move, doesn’t even blink as your fingertips graze his scalp.

then you’re gone, your footsteps fading as you head back downstairs.

jungkook exhales, his head tipping back against the doorframe as he stares at the ceiling. “fuck,” he mutters under his breath, the weight in his chest now impossibly heavier.

by the time jungkook come down the stairs, the sound of laughter and chatter filling the space he follows behind you, catching the way the group immediately perks up. all eyes turning toward you both, and jin yells out, "look who finally decided to join the party!"

taehyung grins, his voice too cheerful for someone who clearly has something up his sleeve. 

“you two are late to the conversation, so you’re being voluntold to go back to town and grab some oil. we forgot to buy oil.”

jungkook freezes mid-step, his brows furrowing. 

“the fuck? i just got back. are you serious?”

you turn and see jungkook’s frustration bubbling up already as he turns to bicker with the guys, his voice rising in playful annoyance. “hyung, you couldn't just... check the damn list? are you fucking serious? i don’t want to go back—”

taehyung laughs, “we were too busy enjoying ourselves. you had fun with me! remember? we got both—”

“fuck that,” jungkook huffs. “i’m not going back—”

“you have to—”

“no, i don’t.”

“jungkook, you’re the youngest too—”

“why does that fucking matter?”

the group chuckles, but jungkook’s not laughing.

you watch jungkook’s face twist with irritation, the way his jaw tightens with every word that’s said. he’s always been like this—quick to snap when he feels cornered. it’s like he can’t stand being told what to do. 

he can’t. 

god, he really hates being pushed around.

you’ve always known that about him. yet, a part of you feels bad for him. 

“no. fuck that.” his voice is sharp, a little louder than it needs to be. “i’m not going back—”

the others try to reason with him even more, but his deflection is clear. 

it’s always the same with him, especially when he feels like he's being challenged. you can’t help but shake your head a little, a sigh almost escaping your lips as you glance at the group, waiting for the inevitable back-and-forth.

he’s the youngest, of course. always the youngest. always expected to just follow along, to do things because it’s “his turn” or whatever bullshit they’re using this time. 

you feel your own resolve settle, the urge to take control bubbling up before you can stop it. without even thinking, you walk over to taehyung, reach over, and grab the the car keys from his hand. 

you do it quickly, not even glancing at anyone else, just deciding in that moment that you’ve had enough of the back-and-forth.

“oil. anything else?” you ask, your tone light, almost too casual, as if this is no big deal.

you hear the group chuckle, but you're not listening to them. 

you’re watching jungkook now, his surprise registering only for a second before the annoyance flickers back into his eyes. 

he doesn’t have a choice now.

he hates this.

jungkook rolls his eyes, but it's too late—he knows it’s happening now. he snatches the keys back from your hand with a heavy sigh. he doesn’t look at you, but the slight dip in his shoulders gives him away. 

he’s still annoyed, but it doesn’t matter.

not if it’s about you. 

suddenly, he’s putting his boots on and slams the door. then, the sound of his car engine starting fills the silence. everyone turns to you in disbelief. 

“huh," you tilt your head. "i guess he's driving.”

the car ride is silent, the engine purring smoothly beneath you.

jungkook’s car is new (to you, at least) and he drives like he’s trying to put as much distance between himself and the group as possible.

his knuckles are tight around the wheel, and every so often, his eyes flicker to you, then back to the road. you can feel the tension building up again, but neither of you says anything.

the store comes up quick, and you both slip inside. jungkook grabs the oil without a word, and as you stand by the aisle, you notice the carton of oat milk in his hand—your favourite brand too. 

you blink. 

“they didn’t ask for oat milk.”

he doesn’t look at you as he sets the carton into the basket, but there’s a quiet, almost hesitant shift in his posture.

“yeah. i know.”

you want to say something, anything, but you swallow the words. 

it’s just oat milk. 

back in the car, you both buckle up in silence, and jungkook starts the engine with a soft grumble. the snow outside is heavier now, falling in thick, swirling sheets, the road barely visible.

the car stalls.

jungkook curses under his breath, his hands working over the wheel like he’s already analyzing what’s wrong. you watch him, knowing he’s not going to admit it, but it’s obvious.

“looks like we’re stuck for a bit,” he mutters. “better wait for the snow to calm down.”

you lean back in your seat, the quiet pressing in. there’s nowhere to go but forward now, and it’s strange, this calm in the middle of nowhere with him beside you, neither of you saying much.

the snow pounds against the windshield. jungkook shifts in his seat, tapping his fingers against the wheel as he watches the storm.

as jungkook stares at the snow pounds against the windshield, you stare at him.

you wait for him to say something. 

anything. 

but jungkook doesn’t meet your eyes.

his gaze is fixed on the road, his hands tight on the steering wheel. you can feel the distance between you two—the years, the hurt, the things that never got said. the things you did say… 

“so,” you start, your voice soft, the words almost hesitant. “how are you?”

jungkook scoffs.

“don’t.”

“don’t what?” you ask. “it’s been a while. i only really see what you’re up to via social media. you opened your own shop, right? i’m so proud of you. i know how long you’ve wanted to do that.”

jungkook nods. 

“yeah…” his response is immediate, but detached. “yeah, i mean… it was a lot easier when i got the right clientelle. so yeah, still doing that. luxury car mechanic bullshit. it’s... all right. not much to update you about.” his tone is nonchalant, almost like he doesn’t care, but you know it’s a front. it’s always been easier for him to hide behind that mask of indifference. 

“i’m sure there’s something—”

“i fix up cars people can’t even pronounce the names of. not a lot of excitement there. just... polishing up things people break, and making money for it.”

“okay,” you nod, your fingers tracing the edge of your seat. “jungkook, it’s me. don’t underplay this with me.”

he shrugs. 

for the first time in three years; you feel it again.

you feel this… sense of anger? annoyance?

hurt. 

jungkook is well known in the city. 

he's the go-to mechanic for luxury cars—bentleys, ferraris, lambos—if you've got money and a car that needs fixing, you go to him… and while we’re here; let’s brag about it. 

jungkook is not just any mechanic; he's the top of the game. he’s the most trusted in the industry, and somehow, he's built a reputation that makes even the richest clients feel like they’re getting something special.

most of them don't know it, but jungkook is lucky—unbelievably lucky. 

he didn’t come from money, didn’t grow up with connections or a silver spoon in his mouth. hell, he's still the kind of guy who wears sweat pants and a hoodie to work… but he's got an uncanny knack for fixing cars, his hands working like magic around every engine and every screw. it's a skill that came naturally to him, no effort needed—he was born with it. 

and that, somehow, has carried him through life.

the thing is, jungkook knows he's a loser. 

a lovable one, sure, but a loser nonetheless. 

he might be great with cars, but he's not the type to flaunt his success. his garage is both chaotic and high-end, a mix of organized chaos and state-of-the-art equipment, the kind of place that looks like it’s one bad day away from falling apart, but in reality, it's the most trusted name in the city.

he's rough around the edges, but that's part of his charm. he's got the grit to keep going when things get tough, but he stumbles through life in a way that makes everyone around him laugh—except when it comes to cars.

then, he's all business.

the fact that he's self-made, that he’s built everything from the ground up, doesn’t even fully sink in for him. he never asks for anything. the success just... happened, like it was meant to.

in the same sense, he’s a scumbag.

he’s gotten into trouble before, and he’s made his share of mistakes. but somehow, with the luck he’s got, he always lands on his feet. and that’s why, despite being a mess in every other part of his life, jungkook is the guy you call when your sports car breaks down in the middle of nowhere.

in fact, he’s the guy to be with in the middle of a snowy road. 

yet, with all these thoughts… you figure not to push it any further.

the silence stretches again, but this time it’s not quite as awkward. it’s still heavy, though—thick with the things that were never said. and you can feel it, the weight of all that unsaid stuff, but something else creeps in too. a quiet yearning, a reminder of the closeness you once had.

“how’s work for you?”

you clear your throat and chirp up.

“it’s good. great, actually. dior signed me to be their permanent event planner. i got to work with ysl and chanel last year so that was cool… lots of travelling… i don’t know. it’s been… fun. i think i’ve done a lot since...” 

“that’s good,” jungkook breathes. “i’m happy for you.” 

“really?”

“really.”

you let out a relieved breath.

“you know, i always refer my clients to your shop. truth be told, i found out about your shop through them before you even posted on social media.”

he flicks a glance at you, but it’s fleeting. 

“why?” he scoffs, but there’s no real anger behind it, just frustration. “you shouldn’t have…”

you wince slightly, but it’s not a judgment. you get it. you always have. the way he pushes people away, like he’s afraid of being too close to anyone, like caring might break him.

“we were in it together,” you reply, your voice quiet but warm. “life. our careers… everything. just because it didn’t work out between us doesn’t mean i was going to leave it as it was. i couldn’t help it. i thought of you whenever my clients complained about their cars. i thought of you whenever your favourite model drove past me. i thought of you, jungkook. how could i not? we spent three years together… so, don’t do that please. don’t act like the past three years haven’t been good to you… because as much as i could, i tried to send you some good. there was good.”

“okay,” he huffs out a breath, his shoulders tense. he’s quiet for a beat too long, and just when you think he might shut down, he mutters under his breath, his voice barely audible. “i appreciate it. all of it.”

“you’re welcome,” you smile. 

then, you turn and watch the snow falling heavier now, the world outside becoming more and more a blur. 

“you know,” you say, your voice almost teasing, trying to ease the weight of the moment, “your mom calls me on my birthday every year.”

his eyes flick to you again, almost imperceptibly, but it’s there. a flash of something in his eyes. a crack in the cool mask he’s built up. 

“sorry,” he apologizes. “i… shit, ___. you know, you’re her favourite.”

“don’t be,” you smile, though there’s a hint of sadness in it. “she’s my favourite too.”

then, he’s quiet again, but this time, there’s a softening to his expression, the edge of defensiveness slipping away. 

you let the silence settle again, the two of you wrapped in the quiet of the car and the storm outside. but this time, it feels different. not easy, not perfect. but it feels like maybe—just maybe—this is the first real conversation you’ve had in years.

and that’s enough for now.

the cabin feels smaller when you get back, and the weight of jungkook’s presence only makes it tighter. the group’s immediately apologizing, teasing him about the oil run, their words sharp but light. 

“we totally forgot, man,” taehyung says, looking guilty. “guess you guys are our personal delivery service.”

jungkook doesn’t respond, his face already scrunching into an exaggerated grimace as he heads straight to the kitchen to help. you’re unsure if it’s from irritation or just sheer exhaustion.

maybe both, you think as you follow him. 

but the moment passes quickly, and you’re both swept back into the warmth of the group’s energy.

it’s dinner time soon after, and the room is buzzing. the conversation is loud, comfortable, with everyone laughing and sharing stories. jungkook and you sit across from each other, the space between you both thick and quiet. your presence seems to be the only thing that pulls him from his usual nonchalance—every time you speak, even the smallest comment, he cracks a smile, almost like he can’t help it.

yoongi catches it first, raising an eyebrow at jungkook. 

“what’s up with you, kid? you only smile when ___ talks. what? the rest of us aren’t funny enough for you?” his voice is teasing but his gaze lingers, as if looking for something more.

jungkook rolls his eyes, brushing it off with a half-hearted scoff. 

mei, sitting next to yoongi, shakes her head. she nudges you and you laugh it off. then, you lift your face and meet jungkook’s eyes. he offers you a short-lived smile. 

you take it. 

the jokes keep coming, but the way jungkook’s eyes flick to you each time you speak doesn’t go unnoticed. 

it’s subtle, the way his lips curve just a little, how his eyes soften just a fraction whenever you make a joke or offer your thoughts. but it’s enough. the others catch it, too, exchanging glances behind their drinks, a quiet realization settling between them.

after dinner, everyone migrates to the living room, pulling chairs and sofas closer to the fire. taehyung sets up the drinks, jin and hobi are already messing with the fire, adding logs with unnecessary dramatic flair, and namjoon is flipping through a deck of cards.

“we should play charades,” jimin suggests, his voice light as he pours more wine into his glass.

“charades? yeah, we could use some entertainment,” jin agrees, his gaze drifting between the group. “but i’m not going easy on you guys.”

you end up on the same team as jungkook.

when it’s your turn to act out a word, you both fall into an easy rhythm. your gestures are sharp and exaggerated, and jungkook picks up on your cues instantly, his movements smooth and fluid. there’s an unspoken understanding between the two of you, the way your eyes meet for half a second before you both act out the next part of the clue. 

honestly, it’s like no time has passed since you last did this, and everyone else watches with mild surprise, the chemistry between you two almost palpable.

nam joon and taehyung share an amused glance, their eyes widening slightly, while jin snorts quietly. 

“okay, okay, we get it. you two are too good at this,” jimin says, shaking his head with a laugh.

“they’re like a team built for charades,” namjoon mutters, and yoongi, always perceptive, smirks.

“it’s like they can read each other’s minds,” he says, narrowing his eyes at you both. “almost makes me uncomfortable.”

you can feel the weight of their glances, the way they subtly watch every interaction, waiting for something to shift. and when the game finally wraps up, everyone is drunk, laughter louder and voices more relaxed.

conversation moves from silly jokes to more serious topics, the kind that happens when the alcohol hits just right. somehow, everyone feels like they’re safe enough to let their guard down.

hoseok mentions work—how it’s been a mess lately, how nothing seems to be going right, and the conversation shifts into the stress of adulthood, of managing expectations and responsibilities.

“sometimes it feels like i’m drowning in it,” hoseok admits, rubbing his temples. “i mean, we’re doing okay, but god, it’s like every time i take a breath, there’s another problem.”

“sounds about right,” taehyung agrees, sipping his drink. “adulting sucks.”

the conversation flows around you, but then someone cracks a joke, and you reply with your usual snark. jungkook chuckles, and it’s a real, honest laugh, something that sounds familiar, something that feels like the version of him you used to know.

bria, who’s been quiet for most of the night, turns her gaze to jungkook, her eyes flicking between him and you with a raised brow. it’s obvious she’s drunk, so jungkook mentally prepares for the worst. 

“jungkook?”

“what do you want?” he sighs. “you’re drunk so choose your words carefully, bria. last time we talked while you were drunk like this, i made you cry for an hour.”

bria rolls her eyes at jungkook. 

“guess it’s my turn then,” she inhales deeply. “my turn to make you cry.”

jungkook gulps, but he tries his best to mask his fear. 

he knows exactly who she’s gonna target. 

“yah, do you think you’re slick or something?” bria asks. “why do you always laugh at ___'s jokes but no one else’s? you look at her and practically salivate. are you a dog? do you like her or something?” 

the group goes quiet. 

it’s then everyone realizes that it’s bria’s first cabin trip. even yoongi, who’s usually too aloof for moments like this, pauses, his gaze sharp as it flicks between you and jungkook. there’s a tension, thick enough to make your chest tighten, and you feel the eyes of the group on you.

it’s like the breath has been knocked out of the room. bria’s words hang between you and jungkook, heavy and unwelcome.

for a second, no one says anything.

you can feel the heat in your cheeks, the way everything seems to slow down. 

your mind races. 

“we’re exes.”

bria’s voice cuts through the silence again, softer this time. “oh, shit… fuck, right. yeah. i remember now… i guess it never clicked because i’ve only known you for a few months…”

“yeah,” jimin pulls bria close. he gestures towards the direction of their room. she shakes her head, refusing his obvious cue. “babe, let’s get you to bed—”

“no, wait… just w-wait. you and ___? but you two... are literally perfect for each other. what happened?” bria blurts, her tone genuine and almost searching.

you catch the way jungkook’s body tenses up.

from across the group, you chase for his eyes. they meet for the first time all night and you swear—there’s a flicker of something there. 

something soft and promising. 

something almost like love, but a lot like loss. 

as quickly as you see it, it fades away. so, you offer him a soft smile. then, shake your head slightly, the movement almost imperceptible. it’s a signal.

don’t answer.

but he doesn’t look away.

and then, as if the silence is unbearable, jungkook speaks, his voice low but steady, almost like it’s been waiting to come out for too long.

“i fucked up,” jungkook admits. “i fucked up like everyone said i would.”

[prettyfastcars]

As sweet as blood-red jam | Mob!Lando

Summary: Lando could be many things given the nature of his job. Mean, commandeering, a control freak. But when he came home to you and the kids, he was the sweetest man you’d ever met. Your marriage to him was arranged of course, because that’s how things worked in the world you were both from. But love eventually grew between the two of you, and it did not stop growing. 

Themes: dad!Lando, fluff, smut, arranged marriage, domestic!mob!Lando, mild mommy/daddy kink (nicknames only), praise kink, housewife!reader, breeding kink

“They’re sleeping.” 

He announced cheerfully, shutting the door behind him as he walked into your library where you had been reading in silence for the past half an hour. 

You were a stay-at-home mom so the twins, your son and daughter, were under your care all day. And so Lando insisted that you get the evening off the moment he got home. He read to them and tucked them in for the night each night. It was part of his routine and he loved it. 

You placed your wine glass down and picked up the drink you made for him, handing it to him as he came over to sit down next to you on the large sofa. 

His eyes lit up at the sight of the well-deserved drink. “Oh you’re perfect, baby.” He kissed your forehead before getting comfortable next to you, sighing as he leaned his head back, closing his eyes for a brief moment. 

“They’ve been running around all day, they went to see the horses,” You said, thinking about how energetic your kids had been during the day, “I thought they would pass out after dinner but they wanted to wait for daddy.” 

Your husband smiled, looking a little tired as he took a sip of his drink. You caressed his cheek with a gentle hand as he turned to give you a soft look with those gorgeous eyes of his. 

He looked more relaxed and comfortable like this, wearing nothing but dark sweatpants. As opposed to the authoritative figure he is during the day in his expensive, dark suits. Him in casual clothing like this made you realise that he was in fact just a young man, barely 25, who shouldered a lot of weight alone. 

Responsibilities, expectations, risks, reputation, legacy, and now his own family. You’d come a long way, the two of you. Only a couple years ago you were just strangers being introduced at a gala. And now you were young parents. 

You still remember the night you met him for the first time. How gently he held your hand and danced with you. How your engagement was announced only a few months after and the wedding happened quicker than you thought. 

You always thought that you would forever be strangers living under the same roof. Especially given his reputation of being a workaholic which made him such an influential figure in his line of work. 

But Lando proved you wrong. He actually took the time to get to know you early on in your marriage, he cared, he listened. He was good to you. Then a year later, you had the twins and Lando had been perfect. Perfect partner, perfect dad. 

“What are you thinking about, mama?” He asked softly, his hand leisurely caressing your exposed thigh. That golden chain on his neck shining in the dimmed lights of the library. No shirt so you shamelessly ogled his defined abs and muscles. He let you, with a smirk on his handsome face. 

You put the book aside and leaned a little closer to him, cupping his rough chin in your hand. He’d been growing facial hair lately and you liked it. “You work too hard,” You said softly. 

He smiled, leaning into the warmth of your hand as he said, “Just wanna give you and the kids everything you want and need. You deserve it.” 

He had given you everything. Houses, cars, chauffeurs, chefs, private planes, private trainers, cards with no spending limits, vacations. You and the kids were well taken care of. 

You sighed, sliding over and ending up perfectly on his lap. Lando finished his drink, placed the glass aside and grabbed you by the waist to pull you closer. “But we have everything we could ever want or need.” You suggested, “Take a day off. Or two. I’m taking the kids shopping tomorrow, come spend the day with us.” 

Lando gave you a faint smile, “Can’t right now, baby. Some important shipments are about to come in. I can’t afford a day off until it gets here.” 

You rolled your eyes, making him chuckle and pull you closer. “But I barely see you.” You murmured. “The last time we had a date night was like, weeks ago.” 

Your face got really hot just thinking about it. Not just the date, but what happened after in the car on the way home… 

Lando smirked, surely also thinking about the same thing, grabbing you by the hips and gently moving you on his lap, rubbing you against his growing erection. You hissed in pleasure as he did. The soft, silky night dress you were wearing bunched up around your upper thighs, allowing you to feel everything. The shape of him, the warmth. 

“If you wanted a lovesick romeo who writes you love notes every morning then you shouldn’t have agreed to marry a man like me.” He taunted, teasing you and pinching your thigh. 

You reached out and grabbed his gold chain, tugging on it playfully, knowing how much he liked it when you did. “Unfortunately I like my men a little more corrupted,” You whispered, “Bonus points if they work all the time and don’t have time for me.” You sassed. 

Lando chuckled, leaning in to kiss along your jaw. “Aww, what is it?” He cooed, “You miss daddy? Hmm? Does mommy need some extra love from daddy tonight?” 

You nodded. 

“Come here, baby,” He pressed his mouth to yours as his hands caressed your inner thighs. He kissed you like he was starving, while your hands reached down in between your bodies and eagerly lowered his sweatpants to free his cock. 

You whimpered into the kiss, against his lips as you wrapped your hand around him, stroking his hard cock, making him groan into the kiss before he pulled away and said, “Daddy missed you too.” He murmured, looking down to watch how your hand touched him just how he liked it. “Fuck,” He sighed, “That feels good, baby…” 

His praise gave you enough confidence to stroke him harder, making him groan and moan. You loved the sounds he made. And you wanted to keep hearing those moans so you carefully lifted your lower body off his, pulled your underwear to the side and slowly lowered yourself down on his cock, earning louder moans out of his sinful mouth as you sank down on him. 

You were wet enough for his cock to slide in, but your body still resisted just a little bit, enough for him to have to thrust up the tiniest bit to fully fill you up. You cried out as he did. 

His soft lips parted just a little, and you couldn’t resist leaning in and sliding your tongue into his mouth. You whimpered against his lips, stroking the top of his mouth as you lifted up and sank back down on his cock, making him growl into the messy kiss. 

“That’s it, baby… fuck yourself on daddy’s cock…” Lando’s hands rubbed up and down your thighs again as he gently thrust his hips up each time, setting a pace that had you both moaning and wanting more of each other. 

Your fingers slid into his hair, scratching his scalp and down his neck as the tip of his cock reached sensitive places inside you. 

Lando chuckled when he felt you clench around him. “We’re not using protection again, mama…” He spoke against your open mouth, breathless as you were, “You’re gonna give me another kid, huh?” He sounded cocky as he said it, like it filled him with pride. “Gonna let me fill you up again till you walk around all nice and swollen with my baby in you, hmm?” 

You whined, feeling him stretch you out each time you moved up and down his cock. “Lando… please,” You gasped as his hand slipped between the two of you and found your clit, he rubbed it lazily. 

“Answer me,” He demanded, “You’re gonna carry another one for me?” His voice sent chills down your back. 

“Yes,” You whimpered, moving faster, impaling yourself down on his cock and whimpering shamelessly as you felt him filling you up completely each time, feeling him reach deeper into you with each thrust. Your lips brushed against his each time you moved up and down his cock, feeling him stretch you out as you stared into his ridiculously pretty eyes. You couldn’t help but speak the thoughts of your lust-drunk mind, “I want you to fill me up again,” You mumbled, feeling yourself getting high up there gradually. 

Lando laughed, also lust-drunk, “I can’t wait…” He said, “Can’t wait to come home and find you dripping wet for me.” His voice gave away that he was thinking back to how needy you were for him all throughout your previous pregnancy. 

You whimpered, thinking about it as well. Some evenings he’d come home and you dragged him to the bedroom immediately. Some days you even called him and asked him if he could come home for an hour or two. Lando happily agreed each time of course. 

“Remember how sensitive you’d get? How needy?” He teased, holding you close. “How you almost cried each time I made you come?” He smirked, male pride all over his face. “Some of the best months of my life those were.” 

You whined, “Please…” You stared into his pretty eyes. 

“Come for me.” He growled in that cold, menacing, erotic voice. “Come for daddy…” 

And you did. Whimpering, squirming and whining. You didn’t slow down as you felt your orgasm wash over you, and Lando kept thrusting his hips up into you as your eyes rolled back and you moaned out loud as you came hard, feeling your walls squeezing and clenching around him.

Lando came right after you, moaning and spilling inside of you, filling you up as you trembled and squirmed on his lap. You leaned forward, pushing your face into his neck to catch your breath while he held you against him, kissing the side of your face softly. 

“You okay, baby?” He asked after a few minutes of you two just cuddling there on the sofa. 

You nodded, “Mhmm, don’t wanna get up.” You murmured, sighing in bliss as you snuggled into his warm chest. 

He chuckled, “Okay.” He kissed the stop of your head. “I love you,” He whispered.