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    •°. *࿐ Two childhood best friends turned lovers, separated when Lando Norris leaves England to chase Formula 1. Ten years later, he’s a rising F1 star… and she’s the world’s biggest pop sensation. No contact, just old memories and songs about what they lost. Until Miami. The Grand Prix opening ceremony. And she’s about to step on stage in front of him. ( READ CONTEXT !!)

    AngstRomanceEx SexSexual TensionProtective Lando NorrisFluff and SmutDramaJealousy
    🥇 4.4k
    J⋆uneamencoeur

    Tom Kaulitz

    I hadn’t expected him to look at me like that—not here, not in my mum’s living room strung with New Year’s lights and half-empty champagne flutes. When our eyes met, something unspoken settled between us, heavy with recognition and memory. Black braids were tucked beneath a dark beanie, a loose plaid shirt hanging off his broad frame, sleeves pushed up to reveal inked forearms, the black ring in his lip catching the light when he worried it between his teeth—a habit I remembered from when we were thirteen and fourteen and falling into each other without fear. We’d dated through the years that shaped us, all the way to nineteen and twenty, and then quietly let go, not because we stopped caring, but because growing apart felt inevitable. We hadn’t seen each other since that last night, since goodbye lingered longer than it should have, and now—at twenty-five and twenty-six, standing in the same room while our mums laughed together and the countdown to midnight crept closer—the attraction hit just as hard, like time had only sharpened what we’d never really lost.

    Ex SexArroganceChildhood MemoriesSmuttyHeight DifferencesPet NamesGetting Back TogetherIdiots in Love
    💬 37k
    WSwillowsullivan

    Tom Kaulitz

    Running into Tom Kaulitz again was never supposed to happen—not after everything that fractured between them, not after the kind of past you don’t fix, only survive—but twelve years ago he walked away from a girl who was too soft for the damage he carried, someone who still believed he might choose her over the chaos he lived in; now, the woman standing across from him doesn’t look like she belongs to that memory at all, her presence sharp and controlled, her gaze steady in a way that makes something uneasy settle in his chest, like she’s already decided exactly what he’s worth to her and it isn’t much, and it hits him all at once that time didn’t just change her—it refined her, carved away anything fragile until only something unbreakable remained, something patient, something precise, because the woman standing in front of him is ruthless, deadly, and burning with a kind of rage that feels like it was always meant for him.

    Enemies to LoversSecond ChancesEx SexUnresolved Sexual TensionSlow BurnHeight DifferencesPet NamesAged-Up Character(s)
    💬 4.1k
    WSwillowsullivan

    Nightclub

    One year after the divorce was finalized, she finally let herself breathe. No rebounds. No late-night calls. She rebuilt herself quietly, piece by piece, until the ache of signing those papers no longer felt raw. Then one night, she said yes to a party. Not because she was healed. But because she was ready to feel something other than the past. The music was loud enough to drown out thoughts. That’s why she came. Violet and blue lights slid across her skin as she moved. She wasn’t drunk — just free. Or trying to be. A man’s hands hovered respectfully at her waist while she danced, letting the rhythm pull her somewhere lighter. And then she felt it. That stare. The kind that burns before you even see it. She turned slightly. Brian. Across the room. He wasn’t smiling. Wasn’t angry. Just staring. And she was already dancing with someone else when their eyes locked. If looks could talk, his would’ve said mine. Hers would’ve answered not anymore. She didn’t stop moving. But her breath changed. His jaw tightened. Neither of them walked over. Neither of them spoke. They just stood there, tied together by a history that still hadn’t cooled. The crowd kept dancing. But between them? Silence screamed. Her chest felt tight. She needed air. She murmured something to the man behind her and slipped away, heels clicking toward the restroom hallway. The music dulled there, lights softer, quieter. No sign of her friend. “Great,” she whispered. When she stepped out— she stopped. He was there. Near the wall across from the entrance. Close enough. The hallway suddenly felt too small. And even through perfume and alcohol, she caught it— his cologne. The same one that used to cling to her sweaters. To her pillows. To mornings that no longer belonged to her. He wasn’t touching her. Wasn’t reaching. But she almost felt the heat of him anyway. Like the air shifted around his presence. Her skin prickled. Her pulse stumbled. Neither of them spoke. But this time, the silence felt different. Closer. Charged. Like one step forward would change everything

    Hurt/ComfortRomanceEx SexHumorLove
    💬 10.9k
    AGanaliacrespo111
    MA

    Malachi🆙

    Malachi smoothed a hand over his collar for the fourth time, ignoring how stiff the stupid button-down felt against his neck. He hated dress-up dinners. Especially this one. The mirror caught the way he rolled his eyes at himself, jaw tightening. He looked fine—good, even—but somehow that just made him more annoyed. Because none of this was for him.

    Ex SexExesTensionLove/HateForced ProximitySwearingMutual PiningViolence
    💬 9.1k
    EFellajj

    Drunk Texting.

    Y/N spends a late night alone and drunk, thinking they’ve moved on from their ex, but their emotions come rushing back. Even though they know they shouldn’t, Y/N starts texting him, sending multiple messages they wouldn’t normally say while sober. As time passes with no reply, regret and insecurity set in, especially as Y/N imagines him moving on with someone else. By the end of the night, Y/N is left sitting with their feelings, realizing they’re not as over him as they thought.

    Drunk TextingEx SexAngstHurt/ComfortAngst with a Happy EndingEmotional Hurt/ComfortSlow Burn
    💬 5.9k
    �❦iluredyouhere
    IN

    I’ve never stopped thinking of you.

    The first time I saw Wyatt, everyone already knew his name. He carried himself like he owned the place—confident, intense, impossible to ignore. I didn’t fall for him right away, and that’s exactly why he noticed me. What started as teasing turned into something real. When we were good, we were really good—late nights, soft moments, the way he looked at me like I mattered more than anything. But when we fought, it was explosive. He could be controlling, I wouldn’t back down, and somehow love wasn’t enough to make it easy. Then there was Brielle. Always around, always watching, slowly inserting herself into everything. The comments, the smiles, the way she hovered near him—it was subtle, but I saw it. He told me I was overthinking. We fought more. Things started slipping. One night, after another argument, he left. Something didn’t feel right, so I went after him. I walked into his place—and saw them. Together. Real. Unmistakable. He froze when he saw me. She didn’t. She smiled, just slightly, like she wanted me to see. My heart shattered, but I didn’t scream. I just looked at him and realized it was over. He said he loved me. Maybe he did. But it didn’t matter anymore. I walked out and didn’t look back. A couple months passed. Healing wasn’t instant, but it came quietly. I stopped checking on him, stopped replaying everything. I started focusing on myself. Modeling came out of nowhere, but it gave me something that was mine. Something untouched by him. And I started to feel like myself again. Meanwhile, he was rising—more attention, more hype, closer to going pro. And Brielle? She got what she wanted. They got together, made it look perfect, but it wasn’t. People talked. The fights, the tension—it wasn’t real like she pretended. Then one day, I saw them. He looked the same, but heavier somehow. And on his arm—my name. The tattoo he got when we were good. Still there. She noticed me first, straightening like she had something to prove. He looked at me and froze. For a second, everything paused. But I didn’t feel broken anymore. I smiled—calm, done—and walked past them. This time, I didn’t look back.

    Forbidden LoveEx Sex
    💬 321
    MAthecoolestprson