#soft cozy vibes for them

[abrillustrated]

messy jayvik sketch before i shower and go to work 🥰 may clean up and color later idk. i kind of have other, more important stuff i need to do but this helps me de-stress so

[nyoomfruits]

28 with maxoscar mayhaps? 💖

28. feeling the rumble of their chest when they talk while cuddling

"Honestly I just hit the curb too hard on the exit of turn four, and then I had to correct that, and then you know how the car is in sector three. I mean, well, you don't, but I told you how we're like slower in the high speed corners, right? Anyway, pretty much lost my lap by then."

Max hums, snuggled up into Oscar's side, feeling the rumble in his chest as he talks his way through his qualifying laps. They're in Max's appartment, his living room, having only just come home from a Grand Prix weekend. It's been a long one, a weird one, and so they've barely had time to talk through their respective weekends.

But it's nice now, cuddled up in a place Max is starting to see more and more like home, now that it's slowly getting filled up with Oscar's stuff. The mug they bought at the Hungary Airport, right after Oscar's first win, that's found it's place in Max's kitchen cupboards. The hoodies that have found their way into Max's closet. A book Oscar's been reading, propped up on his coffee table.

It feels right. It feels good.

As Oscar talks his way through his second Q3 lap, the one that eventually ended up with him in a respectable third place, Jimmy and Sassy jump their way up on the couch, snuggle their way into the little pile of humans already there.

Max lets out a content sigh, rubs his hand over Jimmy's back, and Oscar does an animated rendition of the last three corners, face lighting up in a way that makes Max want to kiss him all over.

Home, he thinks.

[tomaturtles]

IT'S KAWOSHIN DAY!!! As well as the last day of Kawoshin Week :') It's been such a blast, gonna miss it when it's over

Kawoshin Week Day 7: Cuddling/domestic fluff! + Sleepover and Spinoffs (again)! Based on the Campus Apocalypse sleepover chapter ☺️

[grapecaseschoices]

@grinningjackal hit me up the other day regarding pierre and kendis' space thanks to that cool tea infusion ask game. bc i had no space in my romance novelist description of scents, i didn't get to do this. i felt like i wanted to, so i did.

Kendis

I actually already did one for Kendis - technically, and I could have cp'd it but .... I love to cause myself pain. Also, I couldn't find it for a minute but here. I both like and dislike the second middle picture, as for the left second row picture there would be more pizzaz ... probably more color to help with the browns. Probably a carpet like the right one or more fun looking bins. Or both.

Pierre

[silverskye13]

Hi! So, update on your SoS propaganda campaign... it has worked frighteningly well on me. I finished the first 2 books in less than 2 weeks, which is impressive when you consider dyslexia is a thing. I'm currently only held back from devouring the third because of the library wait list. Impatience is making me chew on my non-existent shield. I might need to make fan art. Truly, you are a monster.

Yessssss yessssssssssssss

More people to suffer with me as we wait impatiently for the next book in the series to become available by whatever means.

Unrelated to the SoS, but Jorge keeps getting cameos in all the books, and I am desperate for him to get a boon of his own someday. Give me a story about the rakish ace dreaming god paladin with a heart of gold who would put his life in danger to help the silly berserkers. Please Kingfisher I beg--

Also since you've read book two, you've officially read my favorite book in the series congratulations! Istvan and Clara are a treasure. I am kissing them on the tops of their heads.

[solar-halos]

i’m coming for another one of yall this mood board monday. this one is for you and me on the rock by @the-sun-and-the-sea

[atticwindowatdawn]

Hi guys, today I bring you this cozy bedroom set! As always, I was inspired by some retro items I totally think should make a comeback. You'll be getting a variety of stuff, from comfort items to some electronic entertainment to a functional vintage camera for your simmies to capture immaculate vibes with. Enjoy! ♥

The set consists of 12 items (from left to right):

Armoire Of Florals (functional dresser, 10 swatches, all lods, 1,388 polys)

Leisurely Sheets (double bed, 10 swatches, all lods, 10,302 polys)

Tristful Times Frame (decorative, 8 swatches, all lods, 110 polys)

Soft Comforts (living chair, 10 swatches, all lods, 2,460 polys)

The Dated Telly (functional, 10 swatches, all lods, 1,643 polys)

The Daily Essentials (decorative, all lods, 10 swatches, 1,550 polys)

Affordably Retro Camera (functional, all lods, 10 swatches, 3,752 polys)

Pin It! Cork board (decorative, all lods, 10 swatches, 882 polys)

Dress Me Up Mirror (functional, all lods, 10 swatches, 2,395 polys)

Tranquility Tray (decorative, all lods, 10 swatches, 2,278 polys)

Leisurely Sheets (single bed, all lods, 10 swatches, 6,658 polys)

Timeless Stereo (functional, all lods, 10 swatches, 1,316 polys)

The items have custom thumbnails and you can search for them in the buy catalog by typing 'atticwindowatdawn' or 'sonder dreams'. Have fun! ♥

click here to download freebies (the rest of the set is in early access, available for all on 3rd April)

Credits: textures & graphics: myshunosun, nucrests, helgatisha, trillyke & surelysims for the freebie items idea <3

[sy1vs-3]

I need more Sylus with dragon instincts, so.... ☆

please enjoy...♡

I love thinking about how at some point, purely on instinct, Sylus would start building a nest. Like—he doesn’t even think about it, he just starts collecting all the little things you like and arranging them super carefully in the corner of the living room. You stared too long at a pendant in a store but said no when he offered to buy it? Yeah, he definitely went back for it and put it right in the center of the table. Left a hoodie or some other piece of clothing at his place? It’s already sitting in that same corner on the softest pillow he owns. Every tiny thing that ever caught your attention ends up there.

What does frustrate him, though, is that most of the stuff you like is… kind of cheap. He wants to give you the whole world, his entire hoard of treasures—and yet you’re out here looking at little trinkets, bottles with cute prints, and random shiny bits. So he tries to balance it out. Adds a couple rare gems. Some rare weapons. And definitely a lot more soft, cozy things.

He’d never come out and say, “this is a nest I made for you,” but he’s absolutely hoping you’ll go there on your own. He wants you to get it. It feels ridiculous to him, but he literally can’t help it—it’s pure instinct. And he will get upset if you ignore it. He won’t say anything, but he’ll get quiet and broody. You hurt his feelings. That’s serious.

But if you do notice your hoodie and walk over there, he’ll watch your reaction so closely. And once you’re there? He’s not letting you leave. He’s going to point at every single item and tell you exactly why it’s there.

He tried really hard to make it not seem weird, okay? And honestly, if you ignore the mountain of pillows and blankets, the clothes, weapons, jewelry, and all the random stuff you like—it’s actually a pretty cozy corner. There’s a soft chair. Warm lights. It’s a vibe. Please sit there. He’d be so, so happy.

part 2 🌸

Sorry, it's my first time here 🫧

[p1girlfriend]

oscar piastri x emotional/sensitive!reader ⋆ 𐙚 ̊.

content: fluff, comfort, love language overload, emotional vulnerability, soft protective oscar vibes.

– Oscar doesn’t say much when he first realizes how sensitive you are, but he notices everything. Every flicker in your expression, the slight change in your tone, the way your eyes gloss over when you're overwhelmed — he picks up on all of it, silently adjusting his behavior to make you feel safer.

– He never tells you to "calm down" or "stop crying." Never. If you cry, he just pulls you into him, strokes your back with slow, steady movements, and lets you fall apart in peace. He’ll whisper things like, “I’m right here,” or “It’s okay, you can cry,” while tucking his chin over your shoulder.

– You're the type to get overwhelmed by good and bad emotions — like, you cry watching underdog wins or get quiet when people are too loud or aggressive. And Oscar? He becomes your human noise-canceller. Just a calm hand on your thigh under the table, or a glance across the room like, “You okay?”

– He sends you voice notes when you're having a rough day. They're short and calm, always starting with a little sigh like, “Hey… I know today’s been a lot,” and ending with a soft, “I love you, alright? I’ll be home soon.”

– The way he holds you when you’re sad. Not tight, but firm. Like he’s grounding you. His hoodie sleeves are long and cozy, and he always lets you hide your face in them. He’ll wrap his arms around your head and let you stay there for as long as you need.

– You’re super expressive when you're happy too — jumping up and down after good news, tearing up because you’re proud of someone, always wearing your heart on your sleeve — and he adores it. Quiet little smirks when you’re telling a story passionately, just looking at you like you’re magic.

– You overthink things sometimes, and Oscar knows better than to say “don’t worry.” Instead, he sits beside you, legs touching, and goes, “Let’s talk it out.” He listens until you get to the real reason you’re upset — and then helps you untangle it with calm logic and gentle validation.

– He remembers the things that make you feel better. That one tea you like when you're spiraling. The way you like your hand held (fingers laced, always). Your favorite soft blanket. The playlist that calms you down. And sometimes, he prepares them without you asking, just… because he knows it’s coming.

– He doesn't get uncomfortable when you're emotional in public. If you're crying in a restaurant or anxious in a crowd, he doesn’t get flustered — he just focuses on you. One arm around your back, shielding you. A soft “Want to leave?” whispered near your ear.

– One time, you said “sorry for being too much,” and he got visibly upset. Not at you, but at the idea that you thought that. He held your face in both hands and went, “You are never too much for me.” And you believe him, because he means it.

– He never teases you for being sensitive. Not even lightly. To him, your softness is a strength. Your big feelings, your empathy, the way you care deeply about everything — it’s part of what makes you you. And he’s obsessed with that.

– Your softness doesn’t make him uncomfortable — it grounds him. It reminds him to slow down, to feel more, to appreciate things. He tells you that all the time. Like, “You make me feel more human.”

– And when he’s upset or stressed? You give him that same safe space. No pressure, no fixing. Just open arms and soft silence. He doesn’t talk much, but your presence alone pulls the knots from his chest. He once said, “You're the calm after the storm, always.”

©p1girlfriend

[astrolook]

💗Venus in the 12 Houses - Love, Marriage, Desires, and Red Flags Revealed💗

Note: These are all my personal observations and patterns I've noticed over the years. Take what resonates with you more and leave the rest. Lemme know in the comments if it hits home!

There are general interpretations. The signs on the house can make things different. Look at your Western chart!

Venus in 1st - crushes hit hard and fast, fantasizes off the smallest detail, addicted to being wanted, loves touch and attention, needs compliments to feel alive, sex is passionate and ego-driven, mirror sex, teasing, being watched, dominant but gets turned on by someone who takes control, wants it rough but romantic, flirty even when not trying, love language is touch and constant attention, gets bored if it’s too quiet or routine, chases chaos, confuses lust with love, pulls away when not admired, overthinks if not being noticed, takes care of themselves by dressing hot, posting selfies, shopping, changing their hair or look, hides sadness by turning up the charm, isolates when it really gets bad, won’t admit they’re spiraling, still needs to feel wanted even when numb.

Venus in 2nd - slow burn attraction, crushes build over time, wants safety before sex, needs to feel stable to open up, fantasizes about long-term partners not flings, sensual over sexual, big on physical comfort and routine in bed, loves touch, food, cuddling, cozy sex vibes, neck kisses, earthy and slow, love language is quality time and gifts, sex has to feel earned, doesn’t rush into anything, loyal but possessive, confuses comfort with love, stays too long in dead situations ("dead bedroom"), jealousy hides under chill energy, needs control to feel secure, takes care of themselves by eating something good, shopping, staying in bed, numbs out with comfort habits, avoids talking when low, isolates but still wants to feel cared for without asking.

Venus in 3rd - crush starts in the mind, turned on by voice, texts, banter, flirty and clever, fast talker fast lover, fantasizes about late-night convos turning into sex, loves sexting, curious and experimental in bed, love language is words and constant communication, can talk someone into bed or out of love, gets obsessive with overthinking, mind games, emotional detachment masked as charm, gets turned off if partner isn’t mentally stimulating, sex can feel empty if connection lacks depth, when low they spiral mentally, overthink everything, plays it cool but breaks down alone, tries to distract with social media or hookup energy, sending nudes, hard time sitting with emotions, uses words to deflect feeling.

Venus in 4th - soft crushes that sneak up, feels everything but doesn’t say much, drawn to people who feel like home, emotional connection before sexual, touchy but private, into secret love affairs or deep soul-level sex, love language is nurturing and silent care, fantasizes about being protected and emotionally understood, needs to feel safe to open up sexually, sex is intimate, slow, sacred, emotionally unavailable but expects you to read their mind, holds on to past lovers, avoids confrontation, shuts down when overwhelmed, when low they disappear, sleep a lot, rewatch comfort shows, isolate but still crave someone checking in, too much in their head to ask for what they need.

Venus in 5th - falls for people who make them laugh, shows off when they like someone, flirts like it’s second nature, big into playful teasing, sends thirst traps for attention, wants sex to feel fun and wild, obsessed with being desired, fantasizes about being irresistible, likes when someone’s a little obsessed with them, love language is compliments, showing off together, constant attention, gets dramatic when they feel ignored, picks fights just to feel something, jealous if you look too happy without them, acts super confident when sad, flirts harder when they’re down, celeb crushes, jokes through feelings, needs attention like air eve when they say they don't want.

Venus in 6th - crush starts slow, catches feelings from daily convos, notices your habits, flirts by being helpful, lowkey obsessed with consistency, sex is steady, focused, quietly intense, needs trust to open up, fantasizes about someone showing up every day for them, love language is acts of service, small helpful gestures, doing things without being asked, attracted to routines, stability, and loyalty, over-gives to feel needed, gets stuck in people-pleasing, hides hurt by staying busy, shuts down when drained, acts fine but quietly pulls away, zones out into work or chores when depressed, struggles to ask for love directly, wants to be chosen without having to say it.

Venus in 7th - crushes feel like romantic daydreams, wants a partner not a fling, flirts by being graceful, composed, knows how to pull people in with quiet charm, sex is soft but deep, wants balance and emotional connection, fantasizes about being chosen fully, love language is loyalty, quality time, mutual effort, loves being in sync with someone, obsessed with "the one" energy, avoids conflict to keep the peace, can settle just to not be alone, overthinks everything in silence, shuts down when things get unfair, goes cold when hurt, acts distant but still wants closeness, isolates when sad but checks your socials, self-soothes with routines, soft music, and staying emotionally guarded.

Venus in 8th - crushes feel like obsession, can’t stop thinking about them, picks up on hidden vibes fast, drawn to intense people, flirts through eye contact and emotional depth, sex is emotional, consuming, wants to fully merge, fantasizes about secret love, taboo, power play, love language is emotional loyalty, deep talks, full vulnerability, needs to feel like it’s all or nothing, jealous, controlling, tests people without saying why, creates drama to feel secure, stuck in past betrayals, overthinks every interaction, when low they spiral in silence, disappears to process, won't leave even though it's toxic, sexually frustrated, abstinence, plays it cool but feels everything too much, numbs out with fantasies or sex, craves intensity even when it hurts.

Venus in 9th - crushes hit fast and ends fast, falls for people who feel different or exciting, loves foreign accents and deep convos, flirts through humor, big ideas, eye contact, sex is spontaneous, wild, full of movement, fantasizes about road trip hookups, long-distance lovers, teacher-student energy, love language is freedom, sharing knowledge, exploring together, gets turned on by minds and new experiences, red flag: runs when things get too real, says they want love but craves escape, romanticizes unavailable people, talks a lot but avoids emotional depth, when low they disappear, book trips, change everything, chase distractions, attracted to exotic places or people, pretend they’re fine by staying busy, needs space but secretly wants to be missed.

Venus in 10th - crushes on successful people, older partners, boss vibes, celeb struck, drawn to people with money or status, flirts through achievements, style, showing off wins, sex is intense, dominant, about control and slow tension, can be super sexual or fully abstinent if it doesn’t feel “worth it,” fantasizes about secret hookups with powerful people, being worshipped behind closed doors, love language is consistency, financial support, public respect, wants to be admired and shown off, into sugar baby/sugar daddy dynamics, uses love to climb ladders, may marry for money or image, mixes love with ambition, needs validation to feel loved, when low they shut down emotionally, obsess in silence, chase work over love, secretly wants someone who sees past the image but still spoils them.

Venus in 11th - crushes on friends first, celeb crushes, online obsessions, loves brains over looks, flirts through sarcasm, memes, long convos, sex is experimental, mental, needs a strong connection first or else it feels empty, fantasizes about futuristic love, forbidden hookups, secret relationships, love language is shared interests, inside jokes, late-night talks, drawn to detached, mysterious types, emotionally unavailable, ghosts then watches your stories/status, acts chill but overthinks everything, lies to avoid confrontation, confuses flirting with friendship, when low they detach fully, scroll endlessly, disappear into daydreams, pretend they’re too “logical” for love but want to be chosen without asking.

Venus in 12th - secret admirer energy, hidden feelings, loves people they can’t have, crushes feel like fate, drawn to artists, addicts, loners, or people who seem broken, flirts without realizing it, emotionally seductive, soft touches, dreamy eyes, sex is emotional escapism, loves dim lights, silence, and emotional closeness, fantasizes about being rescued, soulmate sex, karmic lovers, dramatic love stories, love language is intuition, emotional sacrifice, being there even when unasked, gives without expecting much back, gets stuck in secret or toxic love, self-abandons, falls for unavailable types on repeat, confused between love and fantasy, ignores red flags to protect the dream, when low they isolate, over-romanticize pain, disappear into fantasies, live in old memories, lack of self-care when depressed, inexperienced, cry over what never even happened, wants love to feel like a movie but forgets to live it.

🌙💬 For readings, check out my pinned post for pricing and more info 💫💸

[terraswallows]

I know stereotypes are bad, but let’s be honest—every trans girl has a vibe. So tell me, which one are you?

A cute hacker girl fueled exclusively by energy drinks – You type at lightning speed, have a questionable sleep schedule, and may or may not be a digital cryptid. Bonus points if you can do eyeliner so sharp it doubles as a weapon.

A literal cat/dog (kitten/puppy also valid options) – You either radiate smug feline energy or are the human embodiment of "wagging tail, big eyes, head pats please." No in-between.

Target mom – You have opinions on scented candles, will absolutely offer to buy your friends snacks, and could run a household with military efficiency if you weren’t so busy being cute.

Three communist manifestos in a trench coat trying to add others to their cause – You own at least one tattered copy of The Communist Manifesto, believe transition should be free, and could (and would) unionize a girl’s night out.

Teenage witch – You collect shiny rocks, you’ve considered hexing a TERF, and your idea of self-care involves moon water and aggressively manifesting a hotter body.

OH NO A LITERAL GOBLIN! – You hoard shinies, giggle mischievously, and the concept of “pretty girl” and “chaotic gremlin” are one and the same to you.

A vampire with an addiction to fluffy things – Yes, you are the night. But also, you need a soft blanket, thigh-high socks, and a collection of plushies to survive.

A faerie who steals genders and scrambles eggs – You don’t just crack eggs; you turn them into omelets. Gender is yours to redistribute. Watch out, because if you so much as look at someone, they might start questioning things.

A 1950s housewife but horny and super progressive – You bake, you’re adorable, and you’re absolutely calling someone “darling” while making them question their sexuality.

Goth was never just a phase, it’s a lifestyle – Your wardrobe is mostly black, your eyeliner could kill a man, and you’ve perfected the balance between spooky and sapphic.

Goth but discovering the color brown (steampunk) – You have very strong opinions on corsets, pocket watches, and the intersection of sapphic romance and gears.

Cottagecore is my goal in life – You dream of a cozy cottage in the woods where you and your cute wife bake bread, tend to your garden, and forget what capitalism is.

I choose you, random fetish! – You didn’t mean to be this way, but here you are. Your interests are niche, intense, and probably make people blush when you explain them.

So, which one (or ones) are you? Or are you something even gayer?

[missdynamighttt]

hey..can you please (if you are free) do a fic where reader and bakugo are married..and have kids? you can do whatever scenario you like :) thanks

⋆˚࿔ kia's note ˚⋆ i hope this scenario i wrote up is okay oml ☹️☹️ i just went for.. domestic vibes? nyeah, i hope you enjoy 💜💜

the morning sunlight streamed through the windows of your cozy home, casting a warm glow over everything. you stood in front of the mirror, adjusting the elegant dress you had picked for a family outing.

you bit your lip, turning slightly to get a better view, but something still felt off as you smooth down the soft fabric of you new dress. with a small huff, you called out for your husband. “katsuki? can you come here for a sec?”

moments later, katsuki appeared in the doorway, his eyes immediately landing on you. he froze, his usual tough exterior softening as he took in the sight of you.

“does this look okay?” you asked with a hint of uncertainty, turning to face him fully. "it looks.. i don't know."

katsuki blinked, finally snapping out of his daze. “okay?” he repeated, stepping closer to you. “honey, you look...incredible.” his eyes raked over you, filled with genuine awe. “like... drop-dead gorgeous.”

"really?"

"sweets... let me put it this way. you could wear a trash bag and still look good.”

you rolled your eyes, though heat crept up your cheeks. “i'm serious, katsuki.”

“and so am i," he grins, leaning close to kiss your cheek.

"but for the record, the dress looks amazing. you look amazing.”

“you’re just saying that.”

katsuki shook his head, reaching out to take your hand. “nah, sweets. i mean it. come on, gimme a spin.”

you laughed softly, shaking your head before giving him a little twirl. the dress flared out slightly, flowing beautifully around you. and when you stopped, katsuki reached out to grab your waist, pulling you into his arms.

“you’re stunning,” he murmured, leaning in to press a tender kiss to her lips. “can’t believe you’re my wife.”

but before you could respond, the soft pitter-patter of feet echoed through the hallway, and your two kids burst into the room.

“is that.. mama! you look so pretty!” your daughter exclaimed, her eyes wide with admiration.

“very pretty,” your son added, nodding enthusiastically.

you felt your heart melt as you knelt down, beaming at them as you pulled both of them into a hug. “you think so?”

“uh-huh!” your little girl said.

“you’re like a princess!” your little boy added. "right, papa?"

katsuki crouched down beside them, ruffling his son’s hair. “uh-huh. see? even these little brats agree.”

you laughed, nudging his arm. “guess i’ll have to trust my little critters, huh?”

katsuki wrapped an arm around your waist, pressing another kiss to your temple. “you better, ‘cause they’ve got great taste.”

the kids giggled, and you felt warmth spread through your chest as you leaned against your husband's shoulder. it was simple moments like these that made everything feel perfect. like this is where you belong.

‎‧₊˚✧[ it's me, kia! ]✧˚₊‧ ｡ﾟ•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• ｡ﾟ ‎‧₊˚✧[ more of katsuki ! ]✧˚₊‧

[wendichester]

Drunk Anon is back again. Might start using this emoji (🍸) to let you know who I am

Apparently, when I get drunk, my face goes full on resting bitch face without me realizing it. My friends swear I give them this intense, soul-piercing stare like I'm silently judging their life choices. Meanwhile, I’m just vibing thinking I look completely normal. It’s gotten to the point where they refuse to tease me because they’re either convinced I’m seconds away from throwing hands or just too intimidated to risk it.

I desperately need this for a drunk!reader drabble with either Dean or Sam, or both. It's up to you who you think fits better for this. Thank you in advance and have fun❤️❤️

☆⋆｡𖦹°‧ vibe check: failed,

summary. you have the most terrifying resting-bitch-face the winchesters have ever seen and they don't know how to deal

pairing. sam + dean winchester x drunk!reader genre. kinda crack

wordcount. 736

notes / warnings. hi again babes!! you can totally go with the 🍸 emoji 😙 // mild language, ridiculously bad communication, protective dean, shitting-his-pants sam, fluffy ending, you're tipsy and unknowningly terrifying

You don't remember when the tequila started tasting like apple juice. But at some point, you blinked and everything was warm and wobbly and vaguely glittery. Which is fine. You're good. You're great. You’re a cool drunk. Chill. Relaxed. Soft girl hours.

So why is Dean looking at you like you just threatened to stab the perfect leather seats of his Baby?

You're slouched on the couch in your motel room, nursing a half-melted cocktail with one leg tucked under the other, swaying slightly to the beat of the old rock song humming from the radio. You’re feeling yourself. A little buzzed, a little cozy. And the Winchesters are here. What could possibly be wrong?

“Dude,” Dean whispers, nudging Sam with his elbow. “She’s doing it again.”

Sam frowns. “Doing what?”

Dean discreetly jerks his chin toward you.

Sam turns. Freezes. “Oh. Shit.”

Because there you are, giving them the most intense, deadpan, soul-excavating stare either of them has ever received. It’s the kind of look a judge gives someone who just pleaded “not guilty” after being caught on seventeen security cameras.

“Do you think she’s mad?” Dean whispers.

“I don’t know,” Sam hisses back. “I haven’t blinked in a full minute. She hasn’t moved.”

You, meanwhile, are sitting there vibing. Thinking about how pretty the motel light looks through your glass. Absolutely no thoughts of murder or judgment—just the vague inner monologue of “I should get fries” playing on repeat.

Dean clears his throat. Carefully. “Hey, sweetheart… uh… everything okay over there?”

You blink once. Slowly. And say nothing.

Dean’s grip tightens on his beer like he’s preparing for impact.

Sam shifts nervously. “You, uh… you feeling alright?”

You tilt your head. Still silent. Still blinking like a lizard on a warm rock.

Dean leans toward Sam. “She hates us right now. I know that look.”

“She looked at me like that once when I forgot her coffee order,” Sam mutters.

“I thought she was gonna knock my teeth out.”

“I still have nightmares about it.”

You finally speak, voice calm and syrupy. “Why are you both whispering like I’m about to snap?”

Sam nearly drops his drink. Dean chokes on his beer.

“What?” you ask, frowning. “I’m just sitting here.”

Dean stares. Sam stares. You blink again.

“Babe,” Dean says slowly, “you are sitting there like you’ve got a hit list and we’re both on it.”

You squint at him. “I am not.”

“You so are,” Sam says, nodding frantically. “You’ve been staring us down for fifteen minutes like we’re on trial for crimes against your whole blood lineage, specifically.”

You stare. Again. They flinch.

Dean raises both hands in surrender. “Okay! Just—tell us what we did.”

“What you—?” You sit up. “Oh my God, I’m just vibing. I didn’t say anything because I was mentally dancing to Fleetwood Mac and thinking about how much I love you two idiots.”

Sam’s mouth opens. Closes. “That’s… not what your face was saying.”

“I thought I looked normal!”

“You looked like a Bond villain about to order someone’s execution,” Dean says flatly.

You stare again, eyes wide in mock-offense. “Do I have a resting bitch face?!”

Both brothers immediately go silent.

You narrow your eyes. “So that’s a yes.”

Dean winces. “It’s more like a… resting powerful woman who scares me in a sexy way face.”

“Dean.”

“Okay, murderous judgmental angel face, that’s the best I’ve got.”

Sam coughs. “You genuinely scared me. I almost texted Cas for backup.”

You throw a couch pillow at him, which lands with a soft thud against his massive chest.

Dean watches it all, then crosses the room, kneels in front of you, and rests his big warm hands on your knees.

“I don’t care how scary your face gets,” he says gently, teasing glint in his eyes. “I’m still gonna kiss it.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Even if I glare at you like I’m plotting your demise?”

He grins. “Especially then.”

You melt. Just a little. “Fine. But if you ever flinch again, I will glare on purpose.”

Dean leans in. “Kinky.”

Sam groans into his beer. “I’m leaving. You guys are unwell.”

You’re still drunk. Still kinda glowing. But now you’re curled in Dean’s lap with his arms wrapped around you, face nuzzled into your hair like you’re not terrifying at all.

You hum to yourself, finally speaking the sacred truth: “I told you I was just vibing.”

ꔛ. navigation 𓂃˖ ࣪ all drabbles ; compatibility readings ; support my work .ᐟ

[papayainsectorone]

us in another universe

summary: us in another universe until it´s us in every universe, some texts some stories

content: established relationship, soft domestic vibes, emotional drunk!lando, long-distance tenderness, mutual pining, silly metaphors, offscreen implied smut, soft angst & even softer comfort, voicemail-induced tears, lando is so in love it’s embarrassing, smau, pregnancy

word count: 2.1k + texts

pairing: lando norris x fem!reader

a´s masterlist

It’s a Thursday. A quiet one.

The sun is out but lazy, casting a soft glow that makes everything look a little sleepier than it is. You’re walking home from grabbing coffee, one hand wrapped around the paper cup.

That’s when you see them.

Two cows. Big, soft, impossibly round. They’re poking their heads over a hedge like they’ve just been caught mid-gossip, and you laugh out loud—just once, just quietly. It’s such a you and Lando thing. The way one looks half-asleep and the other looks like it knows all your secrets.

You snap the photo and open your messages.

You pause on his contact photo and smile. It’s stupid, and cozy, and weirdly poetic—just like the two of you. The silence between you never feels empty. It's always filled with this: warm, familiar nonsense. Love in its goofiest, truest form.

It’s late. Too late to be awake, too early to sleep.

You’re curled up on the couch in a hoodie that still smells a little like him—clean laundry and a trace of his cologne, worn into the fabric over time. The TV’s playing something you’re not really watching. Your thumb’s on autopilot, scrolling TikTok in a slow, mindless rhythm.

Most of your feed is the usual chaos: people dancing, chaotic memes, a girl crying over a pasta recipe. And then—

You stop.

It’s a video of two otters. One is floating on its back, arms slightly spread. The other drifts beside it, belly-down, bumping gently against its side every so often. The caption reads:

“us in another universe 🦦💤” Soft piano music plays in the background. No voiceover. No edits. Just… floating.

You watch it twice. Then three times. And then you save it and swipe into your messages.

The screen glows against your chest for a few minutes more, warmth bleeding through glass and hoodie fabric, until you drift off to sleep

You wake up to your phone buzzing violently against your nightstand.

6:12 a.m.

You groan, roll over, and grab it blindly. The screen lights up with six missed calls, all from Lando. One voicemail. And a stream of texts so long you can’t see the beginning without scrolling up.

You blink the sleep from your eyes and open them. Immediately, you can tell: he’s drunk. Not tragic drunk. Not messy. Just that loose-limbed, champagne-dizzy, race-win-high version of Lando who gets emotional at hotel room lamps and texts like his thumbs forgot grammar.

You scroll up.

The typing bubble appears.

Then disappears.

Then your phone lights up.

Incoming Call

You answer without thinking, still curled in bed, the sheets tangled around your legs.

His voice comes through sleepy and low, just this side of slurred. “Baaaaby…”

You smile instantly. “Hi, you emotional drunk baby.” “I miss you. Like, a lot. Like… my heart’s doing a little sad tappy dance in my chest.” “A sad tappy dance?” “Yeah. Like… it’s happy we won but it’s mad you’re not here. I hugged my engineer and almost cried. That’s where I’m at emotionally.” “Oh no. You are gone.” “I saw the bottles and they were leaning on each other and I just—” (his voice cracks a little, then laughs softly) “—I was like, oh my god, that’s us. That’s literally us.” “You’re so stupid.” “But like… in a romantic way?” “Yeah. In the ‘I love you more than anything on earth’ kind of way.”

There’s a pause. You can hear him exhale on the other end. “I want to be home. I want to wake up and make you tea and kiss your knee for no reason.” “That’s weirdly specific.” “I love all your parts. Your knees. Your elbows. Your everything.” “You’re not gonna remember saying that.” “I’m gonna remember feeling it.”

Another pause. This one quieter. His breathing slows a little. “Three more sleeps, yeah?” “Yeah. Three more.” “I’m counting. I keep doing it wrong though. I’m very bad at math when I miss you.” “You’ll be here before you know it.” “Will you tackle me at the door?” “Absolutely.” “Good. 'Cause I need you. Like… stupid much.” “I need you too, bottle boy.” “M’gonna dream of you now.” “Do it. I’ll meet you there.”

The call lingers for a second longer before it ends—softly, quietly. You press your phone to your chest, heart full, breath steady.

Even when he's miles away, he still feels like home.

The day is slow. Grey, with a hint of rain that never really falls — just hovers, clinging to the windows like it's waiting for permission.

You're halfway through folding laundry when your hands tug one of his hoodies from the tangle of sheets. It’s soft and worn, the kind he’s had for years — navy blue, with a stretched-out cuff and that faint, comforting scent of the fabric softener he swears by. “Elite tier,” he told you once, completely serious, holding the bottle like it was vintage wine in the middle of the store.

You hug the hoodie to your chest and breathe in.

It’s been a quiet week.

Not distant — just full. The kind of full where texts get shorter and calls get postponed, not out of neglect but because life has teeth sometimes. You’ve both been busy, the sort of busy that scratches at the edges of connection without really breaking it.

You don’t feel unloved. Just… in between.

And you miss him. Not the FaceTime Lando or the string of texts between meetings or even the trackside photos he sends you with a cheeky caption. You miss the quiet of him.

The brush of his hand across your back in the kitchen. His nose, cool and nuzzling behind your ear when you brush your teeth side by side. His feet, cold and shamelessly intertwined with yours under the blanket on early mornings.

You carry the folded laundry to the bedroom, moving in autopilot, until something soft catches your eye.

The bear and the bunny.

They’re sitting right where you left them on the bed — the stuffed animals he bought you one rainy afternoon while you were out running errands. He spotted them in a shop window and dragged you inside, grinning as he picked them up with zero shame.

“This is us,” he’d said. “Obviously. You’re the bunny — all sweet and cute — and I’m the bear. A bit stupid, but loyal.”

Now they sit slightly apart, the way they shifted when you last made the bed. Without thinking, you reach out and nudge them together — bunny leaning into bear, bear tilted like it’s been standing guard all night.

It tugs at something in your chest. That quiet ache of longing.

You grab your phone and snap a photo.

You’re mid-email, half-listening to a podcast, when your phone buzzes.

Then again.

Then three times more in a row.

You frown, check the notifications.

The picture comes in just as your gate is called.

The weekend is a blur of engine roars, sun glare, press pens, and half-bitten fingernails.

The qualifying session ends late. You’re still half-hyped from his lap time, lingering around the back of the paddock, the buzz in the air clinging to your skin.

He finds you by the garages, sweat-streaked and smiling, and without a word you both start walking—holding hands.

The paddock’s mostly empty now. Quiet. The hum of distant deconstruction. You cut through the far edge of the lot when you both spot them:

Two traffic cones.

Lando stops, smirks, and looks at you like he’s about to cause a problem.

“Don’t,” you warn, already grinning.

“Oh, I’m going full conehead,” he declares, picking one up and placing it proudly on his head like a crooked crown.

You double over laughing, then pick up the second one. “Fine. But if we get yelled at, you’re doing all the explaining.”

Now you’re both wearing cones like royal headgear, giggling like actual children, wobbling toward each other in your ridiculous plastic hats.

He bumps your cone gently with his own. “This is the peak of our relationship.”

You tip yours off, toss it aside, and grab the collar of his hoodie. “Wrong. This is.”

You kiss him. Or maybe he kisses you. Either way, it’s easy—hot breath, eager mouths, the kind of kiss that builds fast, hungry from all the time apart.

His hands slide under your jacket, over your waist, warm and firm. Your arms lock around his shoulders, pulling him in until you’re chest-to-chest, his leg sliding between yours, hips pressed close.

The cones are long forgotten.

He groans softly into your mouth when you grind down against him.

“Fuck,” he breathes, lips brushing your jaw, then your ear. “We should probably—go.”

You nod without even opening your eyes, already curling your fingers in the fabric at his back.

“Yes. Yes. Let’s go.”

He grabs your hand.

You leave the cones tipped over in the gravel, like they knew they were just the opening act.

The season rolls on, race by race, month by month. Sometimes you fly out to be with him. Other times, you stay home, wrapped in your own routines, your own quiet.

It’s been a few weeks since you last saw each other. You’ve been feeling off — sluggish, tired in a way that’s not just the jet lag or the stress. Some mornings have been harder than others, and you find yourself waking up with nausea, barely able to keep anything down. But you don’t say much.

One morning, when the sun is just up and setting in streaks of pink and gold, your phone buzzes.

You put your phone down, the simple blobs still glowing softly on the screen.

Holding hands. Even through distance. Even through the quiet.

Then, that’s when the nausea kicks in again.

You sprint to the bathroom, clutching the sink, and decide right there and then—it’s time to see a doctor.

The doctor’s words still echo in your mind, soft but undeniable. You’re in shock, still processing everything. It’s weeks until Lando comes home, and the thought of holding this secret any longer feels unbearable. Tears come easily now — just thinking about it has your chest tightening.

You grab your phone, heart pounding, and dial his number. It rings. Rings. Then goes to voicemail.

You sigh, remembering how his phone is probably tucked away somewhere in the garage during the weekend. You let it go.

But you can’t wait.

You find the picture you saved earlier: two ducks and a tiny duckling nestled between them.

You send it.

Your phone rings. It’s him.

You answer immediately, voice shaky.

On the other end, you can hear the background noise—voices calling his name, the distant rush of the paddock, the buzz of people moving. But Lando doesn’t care.

His voice breaks the second he hears you.

“I’m missing a meeting right now,” he says, “but I had to call. I couldn’t wait one second longer.”

You try to hold back tears but fail.

“You’re serious?” he asks, voice cracking. “I’m going to be a dad?”

“Yes,” you whisper.

“Fuck I’m crying so hard,” he laughs, “I’m so happy.”

You laugh softly too, the sound breaking through the tension like sunlight.

“I’m crying too,” you whisper.

There’s a pause, filled with unspoken words and the weight of everything.

“Are you okay? How do you feel?”

You sniffle, voice trembling, “Scared. But happy. So happy.”

He breathes deeply.

“I want to be there so badly. I want to hold you.”

“I want you here,” you say, voice small.

“Soon. Soon I’ll be home and I’ll never let you go.”

You laugh through the tears.

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

You both just hold the call open, speaking softly about little things, the future, your hopes. His voice is a warm anchor in the storm of emotions.

“I love you,” he says.

“I love you too.”

The paddock calls him again, but this time he stays on the line a moment longer, just to hear you breathe.

Lando’s voice trembles as he speaks, barely able to contain the mix of emotions flooding him.

“Feels so unreal,” you admit.

“No,” he says firmly, “it’s real. It’s us. I can’t wait to hold you both.”

You rest your forehead against the cold wall, closing your eyes, picturing him there beside you.

“I’m nervous,” you confess quietly. “But happy.”

“Me too,” he says. “We’ll do this together. Every step.”

You squeeze your eyes shut, feeling him so close even though miles away.

“I love you.”

“I love you in every universe.”

[plutosunshine]

What gifts of destiny do you have? Venus trines

Venus trine Moon

Venus trine Moon is like having a built-in emotional hot chocolate machine. Your vibes? Cozy. Your energy? Comforting. People meet you and instantly want to tell you their childhood secrets or ask if you’ve got snacks (you probably do).

This aspect makes your emotional world and your love language play nice together. The Moon handles your feelings, your instincts, your “aww I saw a puppy and now I’m crying” side. Venus handles what you love, how you show affection, and your overall vibe. When they’re in a trine? They high-five each other and go, “We got this.”

You're probably one of those people who just gets others. Not in a creepy “I know your password” way, but in that warm “I see your heart and I made banana bread” kind of way. Emotional intelligence? Check. Natural empathy? Double check. People feel safe around you—like you’d never judge them for crying over a cartoon or texting their ex (again).

In relationships, you’re nurturing but not clingy. Affectionate but not smothering. You know how to love in a way that feels like coming home. Romantic partner, friend, cat—whoever gets close to you ends up spoiled emotionally and probably also with snacks. You’re basically the human version of a warm blanket that listens.

And let’s not forget the aesthetic instincts. You probably have a knack for making spaces feel lovely and emotionally calming—like, “this room smells like vanilla and looks like Pinterest, how??” You bring sweetness into your environment and relationships without even trying. It’s your natural setting.

So yeah—Venus trine Moon = emotional harmony, effortless sweetness, the ability to cry at sunsets and make others feel like they're not weird for doing the same. You're the friend everyone wants during a breakup and the partner that people write poems about. No big deal.

Venus trine Mars

Venus trine Mars is pure cosmic chemistry—like the universe looked at you and said, “Let’s make someone who knows how to mix sweet with spicy.”

This aspect gives you that effortless charm-meets-confidence energy. You’re magnetic without being overbearing, flirtatious without being cringe, and somehow you make going after what you want look like art. People don’t just get attracted to you—they get drawn in like moths to a scented candle.

Venus is all about love, beauty, harmony. Mars is passion, action, desire. When they’re in a trine? They’re vibing. That means your inner lover and your inner go-getter are on the same page. So whether you’re trying to start a creative project, impress a crush, or pick the perfect outfit—you're guided by this smooth coordination of wanting and doing.

In relationships, you’re probably equal parts affectionate and exciting. You know when to be soft and when to bring the fire. You’re not just charming—you’re compelling. The kind of person people remember as “ugh, they were just so attractive and cool and I don’t know why.”

And in creative work? That Venus-Mars flow gives you the perfect mix of inspiration and execution. You don’t just daydream about your Pinterest-perfect life—you might actually build it. With mood boards. And maybe some dramatic eyeliner.

Also, your relationship with pleasure? Healthy. Balanced. Not too much, not too little. You know how to enjoy life, and you probably have great taste—whether it’s in people, playlists, or what snack to pair with a good movie.

So yeah—Venus trine Mars is a gift. It makes your energy feel aligned, attractive, and easy to act on. You’ve got the cosmic green light to be a little flirty, a little bold, and a whole lot of magnetic.

Venus trine Jupiter

Venus trine Jupiter is like the universe handed you a giant, glittery “YES” stamp for life. It’s the ultimate feel-good, good-vibes-only aspect. Venus is love, beauty, charm. Jupiter is luck, joy, and expansion. When they team up in a trine? You radiate warmth like a freshly baked croissant in the sun.

People with this aspect are blessed with big hearts. Like, “randomly buys coffee for the person behind them in line” energy. Your kindness isn’t performative—it’s just how you operate. Generosity is your love language. And when you love someone? Whew. They’re getting affection, encouragement, snacks, emotional support, AND possibly travel plans.

You're also probably a little lucky in love and money—even if things get rocky, Venus trine Jupiter folks tend to bounce back with style (and maybe a new haircut). The universe seems to have a soft spot for you. You attract abundance because you live in that mindset—there’s always more beauty to create, more love to give, more joy to find.

You might have a natural sense of aesthetics too—big, bold, joyful beauty. Venus-Jupiter doesn’t do minimalism unless it’s “Italian villa minimalism.” Think lush colors, dramatic earrings, and laughing at your own jokes while wearing fabulous shoes.

In relationships, you bring sunshine. You’re romantic, optimistic, and probably the type who plans cute dates with themes. You don’t love small—you love out loud. And people feel good around you because your energy says, “You’re safe, loved, and we’re probably going to brunch after this.”

And honestly? You make people believe in good things again. You're the human version of finding twenty bucks in your coat pocket and someone telling you your aura looks amazing today.

So yeah—Venus trine Jupiter is the gift of a joyful heart, big love, and the kind of sparkle that makes life feel a little more magical. ✨

Venus trine Saturn

Venus trine Saturn is like the cosmic version of "loyal with taste." It’s the aspect that says, “Sure, I can fall in love—but only if it has emotional maturity, long-term potential, and maybe a five-year plan.” And somehow, you make that sound hot.

While Venus is out here flirting, curating playlists, and swooning over aesthetics, Saturn strolls in like, “Okay, but can we build something real?” And when they’re in a trine? Boom—magic. You get that beautiful balance of heart and structure, softness and stability. You're the person who brings flowers and remembers to pay the bills.

In love, this aspect makes you steady, loyal, and probably way more romantic than you let on. You might not write love poems in public (unless other parts of your chart say otherwise), but your actions? Speak volumes. You show love through commitment, support, and actually showing up—consistently. You’re the “I’ll help you move apartments and won’t complain once” type. And honestly, that’s rare and wildly attractive.

You're also really good at knowing your worth. Venus brings the charm and Saturn brings the standards. So you can enjoy romance without losing your head (or your dignity). You’re not likely to chase fleeting drama—you’d rather invest in something meaningful, even if it takes time. And your love? Ages like wine.

Creatively, you combine beauty with discipline. You can turn aesthetics into something practical—art that sells, style that lasts, design that works. You might even have a gift for turning hobbies into long-term projects, or making your creative side pay rent.

And money? You’re probably responsible with it. You enjoy life’s pleasures, but you’re also thinking ahead. Venus trine Saturn is the person who saves for vacation and packs snacks for the plane.

So yeah—Venus trine Saturn isn’t flashy, but it’s gold. It’s commitment, grace, and long-term glow-up energy. You don’t just love deeply—you love wisely. And that? Is beautiful.

Venus trine Uranus

Venus trine Uranus is the cosmic version of “I love you, but let’s keep it interesting.” It’s the kind of aspect that adds ✨spice✨ to sweetness—think electric charm, creative rebellion, and a love life that’s anything but boring (in the best way).

Venus is all about love, beauty, connection. Uranus is the planet of surprises, freedom, and “Wait, what if we did it completely differently?” Put them in a trine, and you get someone who loves with a twist.

You’re probably effortlessly magnetic—not in a loud or over-the-top way, but in that “who is that and why do they look like they just stepped out of a dream I didn’t know I had?” kind of way. People are drawn to you because you feel exciting, original, and genuinely yourself. You’re the cool breeze on a hot day, the plot twist in a rom-com, the person who can pull off silver eyeliner at brunch.

In relationships, you need spark—and freedom. You’re affectionate, but you’re not about that clingy life. You want connection that breathes. You’re into people who can surprise you, challenge you, or at least talk about weird science facts at 2 a.m. You might fall in love fast—but if it turns routine and stale? You’re already mentally redecorating your life.

And your sense of style? ICONIC. Venus-Uranus people often have amazing taste that’s just a little ahead of the curve. You might wear things that shouldn’t work… but totally do. Your aesthetic says, “I make my own trends,” and people follow.

Creatively, this aspect is genius. Literally. You get flashes of inspiration that feel like lightning bolts. One minute you’re folding laundry, the next you’ve invented a brand new art style or business idea. You thrive when you can innovate, experiment, and break a few rules in the name of beauty or fun.

Basically, Venus trine Uranus is the gift of loving freely, creating boldly, and dancing to your own (very catchy) beat. You don’t just think outside the box—you turn the box into a disco ball.

Venus trine Neptune

Venus trine Neptune is pure dreamboat energy. It’s the "poetry in motion" aspect—the kind of placement that makes you love like a movie, create like a muse, and daydream like it's a full-time job (with benefits).

Venus is love, beauty, art, connection. Neptune is magic, fantasy, spirituality, and soft-focus filters on everything. When these two are vibing in a trine? You’ve got a heart that floats. You don’t just feel love—you merge souls. You don’t just like pretty things—you fall in love with sunsets, songs, strangers’ handwriting, and maybe even clouds.

You radiate sweetness, compassion, and that ethereal softness that makes people think, “Are they real… or are they a character in a romantic French film?” There’s something dreamy and gentle about you, and people feel it. They might not even be able to explain why they’re drawn to you—they just are.

Love, for you, is spiritual. You're the type who writes little love notes, dreams of soulmates, and maybe secretly wants someone to slow dance with you in the kitchen at 2 a.m. You believe in love. Deeply. Even when the world gets cynical, your heart quietly insists: "No, it's still real."

Creatively? Oh, you’re a vibe. This aspect brings serious artistic potential—music, dance, painting, writing, photography, design—all of it. You create beauty that speaks to the soul. Even if you’re just decorating your living room, it probably looks like a Pinterest board made by an angel with excellent taste.

You’re also super empathetic—like, “accidentally cried watching a stranger reunite with their dog” levels of emotional openness. Your kindness isn’t performative; it’s just who you are. But that does mean you need to protect your energy, because you can absorb emotions like a sponge in a telenovela.

So yeah—Venus trine Neptune gives you the gift of beauty, love, and enchantment. You’re the heart-softener, the daydream-weaver, the cosmic reminder that love can still be tender and real. Just maybe keep your feet on the ground while your head floats in the stars. 💫

Venus trine Pluto

Venus trine Pluto? Ohhh baby. That’s the slow burn, deep soul, intense eye contact across a crowded room aspect. It’s magnetic, emotional, and just the right amount of mysterious. Like, you might not even say much, but somehow people feel like you see right into their soul—and weirdly, they kind of love it.

Venus is love, beauty, connection. Pluto is transformation, power, and everything that simmers under the surface. When they’re in a trine, you get the kind of charm that doesn’t ask for attention—it commands it. Quietly. Intensely. With raised eyebrows and smoldering vibes.

In love, you don’t do shallow. You want all of it—the passion, the soul bond, the “I’d help you bury the body” kind of loyalty. You’re not out here for flings (unless your Gemini placements are protesting)—you want to be consumed, in the best possible way. You crave real connection. None of that situationship nonsense.

People with this aspect tend to attract deep, powerful love stories—sometimes even life-changing ones. You’re the person others never quite forget. (Even if they try. Which they will. But they won’t succeed.)

There’s also this quiet confidence to you when it comes to beauty and attraction. You don’t need to follow trends or be loud about it—you just know how to work with what you’ve got. Venus trine Pluto is like wearing perfume that no one can place, but everyone keeps leaning in to smell.

Creatively, this aspect is fire. You can turn pain into art, passion into poetry, and longing into something unforgettable. You’re drawn to beauty with depth—music that aches, films that stir something, aesthetics that say “there’s more beneath the surface.”

And honestly? You’ve probably done some serious inner work in your life. You know what it means to grow through love, to heal through heartbreak, and to come out the other side even more powerful. Venus trine Pluto gives you the gift of transformational love—the kind that changes you, and the kind you give to others.

So yeah—this aspect isn’t light and fluffy. It’s rich, deep, powerful, and just the right level of “I feel things too hard but I make it look cool.” You’re the storm and the stillness after.

[dontrllycaretbh]

Title: slow drip, soft burn

Pairing: Azzi fudd x paige bueckers

Warnings: consensual spit kink, explicit sapphic smut (18+), first time, mutual pining, tension-heavy friends-to-lovers, tongue kissing, light dom/sub vibes, quarantine intimacy, emotional vulnerability

Summary:

Stuck in quarantine with your best friend, a quiet kiss turns into a messy confession—and a kink you didn’t expect becomes the most intimate thing you’ve ever shared.

The room was quiet except for the steady patter of rain against the window — soft, steady, like a heartbeat. The city beyond their windows had stilled days ago, the streets empty, sirens distant and rare. Power flickered occasionally in the building across the street, but their little corner of the world was still glowing — one warm lamp casting golden light over the cozy sprawl of rumpled sheets and thrown pillows.

Paige sat on the edge of the bed, legs pulled up loosely, sleeves covering her hands, nervously twisting the hem of her oversized sweatshirt. Her knee bounced once, then stopped. Then again. The silence was bearable, but dense — like the thick fog of unsaid things between people too close for comfort, or maybe too close for denial.

Azzi sat cross-legged at the foot of the bed, knees brushing Paige’s from time to time. She was staring down at the carpet, like the shifting shadows in the room might spell out what to say next.

Neither of them had left the house in two days. They weren’t sick, not physically. Just stuck. With nowhere to go, the walls had shrunk around them, and all that closeness had started pulling old feelings to the surface — the kind they hadn’t named out loud yet.

Then Paige whispered, “Azzi… can I ask you something weird?”

Azzi’s head lifted, the soft fall of her dark hair catching the light. “Of course. What’s up?”

Paige licked her lips. Her voice was low and tentative. “Have you ever… thought about us?”

Azzi blinked. “Like…?”

“Like not just teammates. Or friends.” Her cheeks flushed. “I mean, we’ve been cooped up here for weeks now, and maybe I’m going stir crazy, but I’ve been thinking about you. A lot. And… not just thinking.”

Azzi swallowed. “You mean like dating?”

Paige hesitated, eyes flicking down. “Yeah. Or… touching. Trying things.”

The silence came again, but it was a different kind now — buzzing, hot.

“I’ve thought about you, too,” Azzi said after a long beat. Her voice had gone softer, deeper. “Not just lately. Before. For a while.”

Paige looked up slowly, eyes locking on Azzi’s. “Then why didn’t you ever say anything?”

Azzi smiled faintly. “Because you’re you. And I didn’t want to lose that. But now we’re here. Stuck. Alone. And if I’m honest… I don’t think I can keep pretending I don’t want you.”

Paige’s breath caught. She shifted forward, knee brushing Azzi’s again. “What if we just… tried something?”

Azzi tilted her head. “Something?”

Paige leaned in slightly, her voice dropping. “Kissing. Touching. Seeing where it goes.”

Azzi stared for a second, then nodded once, slowly. “Okay.”

Paige leaned closer, lips just inches away. “Okay?”

Azzi murmured, “Yeah. Try us.”

Their mouths met softly — just lips pressing, unsure but electric. Paige’s hand came up to cup Azzi’s jaw, and Azzi leaned into the touch like she’d been waiting years. Their lips moved slow at first, then deeper, hungrier, tasting.

Paige pulled back, flushed and breathless. “That felt… better than I imagined.”

Azzi laughed under her breath. “God, same.”

They stayed close, foreheads touching, breaths mingling.

“I want to tell you something,” Paige said, voice hushed and playful.

Azzi gave her a crooked grin. “Tell me.”

Paige bit her lip, glancing down. “It’s… a kink. Something I’ve never told anyone.”

Azzi raised a brow, intrigued. “Yeah?”

Paige’s cheeks went crimson. “I’ve thought about spit.”

Azzi blinked. “Spit?”

Paige nodded, nervous but determined. “Like… you spitting in my mouth. Me doing it to you. I don’t know. It’s messy and raw and kind of… intimate. I want to try it.”

Azzi’s chest rose with a sharp inhale. “Wow. That’s… okay, yeah, that’s really hot.”

“You think so?” Paige asked, eyes wide.

Azzi nodded, moving closer. “Yeah. It’s primal. And weirdly tender, too. Like you’re giving someone something of yourself.”

Paige’s lips curled into a grin. “Exactly.”

Azzi smirked. “Then let’s try it.”

Without another word, Paige swung a leg over and straddled Azzi’s lap, the shift of her weight pressing them together in all the right places. Her thighs braced on either side of Azzi’s, and their eyes locked — heat swirling between them like lightning in a bottle.

Paige leaned in, and Azzi tilted her head back obediently.

“Open,” Paige whispered, voice thick with anticipation.

Azzi parted her lips, breath shallow.

Paige let her mouth open, and a warm string of spit slipped from her tongue into Azzi’s waiting mouth.

Azzi swallowed with a shiver, her hands grabbing Paige’s thighs instinctively. “Holy fuck.”

Paige kissed her again, deep and wet, spit mixing with the soft drag of tongue and teeth. The kiss turned messier, hungrier — hands tangling in hair, grinding close through their clothes.

Azzi’s hands slipped beneath Paige’s tank, exploring the curve of her waist, the dip of her back. Paige gasped when fingers brushed under her bra, arching into the touch.

“You feel so good,” Azzi murmured.

“So do you,” Paige breathed, hips rolling.

Clothes started coming off — slowly, reverently, as though every inch of skin was a gift. Azzi’s sweatshirt was peeled away, followed by Paige’s top, both of them left in nothing but underwear and flushed skin, mouths never far apart.

Paige pushed Azzi gently back onto the bed, straddling her again, then trailing kisses down her chest, her stomach, pausing just above the waistband of her sweats.

“Can I taste you?” she asked, looking up with hooded eyes.

Azzi nodded frantically. “Please.”

Paige peeled the sweats down, revealing soft skin and slick heat. She leaned in, tongue flicking out, tasting her slowly. Azzi moaned, hand in Paige’s hair.

Paige spit softly onto Azzi’s folds, letting it drip down before licking it up, savoring every shiver she caused.

Azzi’s thighs trembled. “Fuck, Paige—don’t stop.”

Paige hummed against her, hands pinning Azzi’s hips down as she licked deep and slow, tongue circling Azzi’s clit again and again.

Azzi gasped, the tension coiling tight. “I’m close—please, please—”

Her orgasm hit like a wave, crashing through her body with violent grace. Paige didn’t stop until the last aftershocks faded, and even then she kissed her thighs like they were sacred.

Azzi pulled her up and flipped them, mouths meeting again, hands greedy now.

She tugged Paige’s panties down, kissed her way between her thighs, and whispered, “Your turn.”

She spit softly onto Paige’s wet heat, watching it glisten before licking it up, tongue circling, teasing.

Paige bucked against her mouth, hands gripping the sheets. “Azzi—fuck, oh my god—”

Azzi kept going, gentle and firm, fingers joining her mouth, working in perfect rhythm until Paige came undone with a sharp, choked cry, thighs trembling.

They collapsed together after, tangled and sweaty and dazed.

For a long time, they didn’t speak. Just breathed.

Then Paige laughed softly against Azzi’s neck. “So… we’re definitely more than roommates now, right?”

Azzi grinned. “Yeah. Definitely.”

————-

First smut 🫩🫩