#I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again

[sarcasticlibrary]

I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, artists on tumblr are too skilled, but I’ll allow this one, because it’s so fcking adorable I can barely function

(Is that Chris Evans in the original photo???)

@jeriais sent me this picture and I had to manifest the soccer AU dadneto vision

[i-think-2-loud]

jeremy eating a mango/peach in bed one night and purposely letting the juice drip all down his face and chest because he’s fantasizing about jean licking him clean

meanwhile jean just pouting he’s getting the bed all sticky AND wasting the best part of the fruit

[thatswhatsushesaid]

You know what the real issue with jgy is?? He didn’t kill enough people!!! If he’d killed as many people as wwx, he would have been just as incorruptible and perfectly good as wwx 😎

shoulda cleaned house, lianfang-zun!

[ilovemarvel97]

Written in Our Souls - Part 13

Wanda Maximoff x Reader

Summary: Y/N and Wanda’s bond is stronger than ever—but beneath the warmth of their intimacy, unsettling questions arise.

Word Count: 5,272

Warnings: fluff, a little smut, (18+), use of strap (enchanted)

Series Masterlist || Main Masterlist

---

A few days had passed since the mission, and Y/N had been basking in the kind of peace that only came from being wrapped up in Wanda—physically, emotionally, soul-deep. But even with the warmth of their bond grounding her, something kept tugging at her attention.

Vision.

Despite everything—despite the clarity of the bond between Wanda and her—Vision had been sneaking out of the compound more and more. Quiet departures in the early morning, late returns after sunset. Y/N had caught glimpses of him once or twice, and each time, something about him seemed… different. Off.

She made her way down to Tony’s lab, hoping for insight.

Tony was hunched over a half-built suit and a cup of coffee, talking softly to himself when she walked in.

“Hey,” Y/N greeted, hands in her pockets.

Tony gave her a once-over, not looking away from his project. “Well, well. Look who came up for air.”

Y/N smirked. “Funny. I was actually here to ask about Vision.”

That earned a pause. Tony blinked, then set down his tools with a sigh. “Ah. Him.”

“What’s going on?” Y/N asked. “I’ve seen him leaving. At weird hours. Something’s not right.”

Tony leaned back against the workbench, arms crossing. “You’re not imagining it. FRIDAY flagged a few anomalies in the compound logs—Vision's been leaving without logging his destination, and encrypting his activity. Not that he has to report to me, technically… but it’s weird.”

“Weird how?” Y/N asked, concern creeping into her voice.

Tony shrugged. “He’s precise. Predictable. But lately? He’s being careful. Too careful. Covering his tracks, locking access, even shutting down surveillance feeds in sections of the lab when he’s working.”

Y/N frowned. “Do you know what he’s working on?”

“No clue,” Tony said. “He always closes the screen or cuts the connection when anyone walks in. Happened twice this week.”

Y/N looked down for a moment, processing. “You think it’s about Wanda?”

Tony raised an eyebrow. “He hasn’t exactly been subtle about that obsession. But I can’t say for sure. He’s not talking. Just... off.”

Y/N nodded slowly, eyes distant.

Tony’s voice softened slightly. “I’ll keep an eye on it. Let me know if he says anything to you. Or if anything feels… wrong.”

Y/N nodded again. “Thanks, Tony.”

As she turned to leave, Tony added under his breath, “Weird behavior from a synthezoid usually means one of two things—an upgrade… or a problem.”

Y/N didn’t respond.

But the knot in her chest said she already knew which one it was.

---

Tony continue to monitor Vision’s behavior.

“F.R.I.D.A.Y., where is Vision off to again?” he asked, sipping his coffee as he watched the surveillance feed.

“He has exited the compound through the east corridor,” the AI replied smoothly. “No scheduled mission or clearance filed.”

Tony narrowed his eyes at the screen as Vision walked with purpose across the perimeter and into the tree line, the same path he’d taken three times this week alone. Always around the same time. Always when no one was watching.

Or so he thought.

“Freakin’ sneaky toaster…” Tony muttered. “What the hell are you up to?”

He tapped a few keys, pulling up heat signatures and satellite imaging, watching Vision disappear into the woods again. No obvious rendezvous, no vehicles. Just… him, alone, disappearing deeper into some isolated location.

Tony leaned back in his chair, arms crossed. “This is getting weirder by the day.”

With a sigh, he stood up and grabbed his tablet.

---

A Month Later

Gunfire echoed through the dim corridors of the Hydra base, lights flickering as red emergency alarms pulsed across the walls. The air reeked of gunpowder and scorched metal.

Y/N was a blur of motion.

She zipped between agents, disarming them before they could aim, dropping weapons to the floor with clatters that barely registered before she was already gone again. A round of bullets followed her—too slow. They hit empty wall as she reappeared behind the shooter and knocked him out cold with a swift elbow to the temple.

“Got eyes on the main server room,” Nat’s voice crackled over comms. “Cover me while I pull the drive.”

“Copy,” Y/N replied, turning toward the hallway where Nat had vanished.

More Hydra agents spilled into the corridor ahead, barking orders in German. Y/N dashed forward, skidding between them, her momentum sending two crashing into the wall as she swept their legs from under them. She ducked a stun baton, twisted, and delivered a lightning-quick jab to the agent’s solar plexus. He collapsed with a grunt.

“Wanda?” she called into the comms. “You good?”

“I’m surrounded,” Wanda’s voice came through, tight with strain. “Third corridor near the east wing—need backup now.”

Y/N's head snapped in that direction. "On my way, babe."

She shot forward in a blink, wind snapping around her as she dashed through the maze of halls. Along the way, she shoulder-checked a Hydra operative into a wall and vaulted over another, disarming him mid-air.

Sparks flew as she skidded to a stop near Wanda, who was holding her own—red magic lashing outward in brilliant waves. But more agents were closing in fast.

Y/N didn’t waste a second. “Heads down!” she shouted.

In a flurry of movement, she zoomed through the group, disarming, disabling, and knocking them flat in a matter of seconds. The last agent tried to run—Y/N appeared in front of him and sent him flying with a roundhouse kick before he could blink.

Wanda lowered her hands, panting, her red eyes glowing faintly.

Y/N grinned. “Miss me?”

Wanda smirked, stepping toward her. “Always.”

Behind them, another explosion shook the far wall. Nat’s voice came through again: “Got the data. Meet you at extraction in two.”

Y/N gave Wanda a quick wink before grabbing her hand. “C’mon, let’s finish this.”

---

The low hum of the Quinjet filled the cabin as they lifted off from the Hydra base, the engines steady beneath them. Y/N sat with her back against the cool metal wall, catching her breath, her suit smeared with soot and a cut above her eyebrow already beginning to close. Across from her, Wanda was watching her, arms crossed, eyes soft.

Nat was at the console, already decrypting the stolen files, while Clint piloted up front, focused but relaxed now that they were airborne.

“That was clean,” Clint called over his shoulder. “Almost too clean.”

“Speak for yourself,” Y/N muttered, wiping her forehead. “I think I ran enough to power this jet twice.”

Wanda chuckled softly and moved closer, settling beside Y/N. Her fingers gently found Y/N’s wrist and traced over her name, a quiet, grounding touch. “You didn’t hesitate when I called,” she said, voice low.

Y/N turned her head and smiled at her. “I’ll never hesitate for you.”

Nat looked up from the console with an amused eyebrow. “God, you two are worse than Barton and Laura.”

“I’m right here,” Clint said, though he didn’t sound annoyed. If anything, he was smiling.

Then, after a moment, he added, “Hey—before I forget. This weekend, it’s Nathaniel’s birthday. Laura already invited Nat, but I wanted to ask you two as well.”

Y/N blinked, surprised. “Oh—really? You sure we wouldn’t be, you know… distracting?”

Clint chuckled. “Nah, Laura loves you both. And the kids are already obsessed with Wanda’s magic tricks and Y/N’s speed. You’re practically party entertainment at this point.”

Wanda grinned. “I’d love to come. It sounds wonderful.”

Y/N nodded. “Count us in. Wouldn’t miss it.”

Wanda leaned her head on Y/N’s shoulder, and Y/N instinctively pulled her closer, pressing a soft kiss to her hair.

“So,” Nat said, tone suddenly sly, “how long until we have to start making excuses to give you two alone time again?”

“Don’t start,” Y/N groaned. “We’re just… making up for lost time.”

Clint laughed. “That what the kids are calling it now?”

Nat smirked but said nothing more, returning her attention to decrypting.

Y/N glanced down at her wrist as Wanda’s touch lingered there. The mark hummed faintly, alive with warmth and peace. She smiled to herself and closed her eyes for a moment, just soaking in the closeness.

Even with the low buzz of tech and the hum of the Quinjet, wrapped in the quiet comfort of each other’s presence, everything finally felt… right.

Home wasn’t a place anymore. It was a heartbeat against hers.

---

Back in the Compound

****

A few hours later, their room was dimly lit by the golden hue of late afternoon sunlight seeping through the curtains. The air was heavy with warmth and intimacy, filled with soft gasps and the creak of the mattress.

Wanda was straddling Y/N, her palms pressed against Y/N’s stomach for balance. Her movements were slow, intense, each roll of her hips deliberate, driven by the quiet desperation in their bond. The enchanted strap they’d come to cherish pulsed with magic and connection, bridging the space between their bodies in a way that felt impossibly real.

Y/N’s hands held her waist firmly, guiding her but letting her lead. Her eyes never left Wanda’s face—flushed, lips parted, brows furrowed in pleasure. She looked like a dream. No, more than that—like something sacred.

“Wanda…” Y/N whispered, voice rough with emotion, not just desire.

Wanda leaned down slightly, one hand sliding up to Y/N’s chest for support, their foreheads nearly touching. “I feel everything,” she murmured, breath hitching. “Every inch of you… it’s overwhelming.”

Y/N cupped her face, pulling her in for a kiss as their rhythm deepened. Magic sparkled faintly around them, soft red wisps dancing at the edge of their joined bodies—resonating with every thrust, every gasp, every heartbeat they shared.

They weren’t just touching—they were fused in soul, in love, in something far greater than either of them could put into words.

And in that moment, nothing else mattered.

Wanda’s movements grew faster, more desperate, her fingers digging lightly into Y/N’s stomach as she rode out the rising wave inside her. The bond between them crackled like a live current—magic and love entwined, tangible in every breath, every shared heartbeat.

Their moans filled the room, raw and unfiltered. Y/N’s grip on Wanda’s waist tightened as she thrust up to meet each movement, breath ragged, lips parted.

“Wanda—” she groaned, voice trembling with the effort to hold back.

Wanda leaned forward, one hand cradling Y/N’s face as her forehead rested against hers. “Detka…I’m so close” she whimpers, eyes locked on hers. “Come with me.”

As Wanda cried out, her body trembling through the high, the sensation and their bond sent Y/N over the edge with her. A low moan tore from her throat as she released, the enchanted toy responding with a soft pulse, responding to Y/N climax. Wanda gasped again as she felt it—warmth filling her, real and undeniable—and her lips found Y/N’s in a kiss that was everything: hungry, tender, grateful.

Their bodies stilled, but their connection pulsed stronger than ever. Wanda stayed close, resting her forehead against Y/N’s, both of them breathing hard, tangled together in the soft afterglow.

****

“I’ll never get over this,” Wanda murmured.

Y/N smiled, brushing back a strand of hair from Wanda’s face. “Good. Because I’m never letting you go.”

Wanda lay on top of her, chest rising and falling against Y/N’s, still intimately connected. Her cheek rested against Y/N’s shoulder, the warmth between them steady and comforting. The room was quiet now, save for their slowing breaths and the occasional hum of their bond, soft and pulsing like a second heartbeat.

Y/N lazily trailed her fingers up and down Wanda’s spine. “You know, we really need to stop breaking the bedframes,” she said with a sleepy grin.

Wanda chuckled, her lips brushing against Y/N’s skin. “Maybe you should stop making me lose control, then.”

Y/N smirked. “That would mean denying you. And I’m just not that strong.”

Wanda hummed in satisfaction, pressing a soft kiss to her shoulder. “I like when you’re weak for me.”

“You’re dangerous when you know your power,” Y/N teased.

There was a quiet pause, filled only by the shared rhythm of their breath, before Wanda murmured, “What do you think Clint’s kid wants for their birthday?”

Y/N laughed, the sound low and full of affection. “You just rode me like a woman possessed and now we’re talking about birthday gifts?”

“I’m a multitasker,” Wanda replied smugly. “Also, I want them to like me.”

“They already do. You helped Lila with her math homework, remember? You’re basically her favorite Avenger now.”

Wanda smiled against her skin. “You think so?”

Y/N wrapped her arms around her, holding her tighter. “I know so!”

They lay there like that a little longer, basking in the quiet afterglow, their hearts calm, their souls at peace. Wanda was mid-sentence about birthday gifts when Y/N suddenly shifted, flipping them both over in one fluid motion.

Wanda let out a surprised laugh that turned into a soft gasp as Y/N settled between her thighs, still inside her, deeper now.

“My turn,” Y/N growled playfully, her eyes dark with renewed desire.

Wanda’s breath hitched, her legs instinctively wrapping around Y/N’s waist as a fresh wave of anticipation rushed through her. “Then take it,” she whispered, voice trembling with need.

Y/N didn’t need to be told twice. She rolled her hips forward, slow at first, drawing a moan from both of them, and then again—deeper, firmer. The room once more filled with the sounds of their love, their bond sparking like wildfire between every breath, every kiss, every movement.

And just like that, round two began—hungry, heated, and absolutely theirs.

---

The city buzzed around them with late afternoon life—horns honking, people laughing, the faint smell of roasted nuts from a nearby cart. Wanda’s fingers were laced with Y/N’s as they walked hand in hand down the sidewalk, both of them in sunglasses and low-key clothes. Still, they had a glow that made people look twice—two women in love, completely immersed in each other.

“Okay,” Wanda said, glancing at the small list she had open on her phone. “Clint said Nathaniel’s been obsessed with dinosaurs lately.”

“Dinosaurs?” Y/N grinned. “Then we’re getting the biggest, loudest, most annoying toy we can find. If it roars, stomps, and maybe breathes fake fire—perfect.”

Wanda laughed, leaning into her. “You really want to get uninvited next year?”

“Absolutely not. I just want Clint to suffer a little. He did make me babysit the gremlins during that mission debrief last month.”

They ducked into a bright toy store a moment later, the kind with spinning mobiles, bright shelves, and too much cheerful music playing in the background. Y/N made a beeline for a massive animatronic T-Rex while Wanda wandered through the science kits and puzzles, already thinking of what Laura might appreciate too.

Eventually, they met in the middle—Y/N triumphantly holding the roaring T-Rex box, and Wanda with a neatly wrapped educational kit about fossils.

“We get him both?” Y/N asked, already knowing the answer.

Wanda nodded with a smirk. “Chaos and balance. Very us.”

As they stepped back outside, bags in hand and the sun beginning to dip lower in the sky, Y/N pulled Wanda into her side and pressed a kiss to her temple.

“This is nice,” Y/N said softly.

Wanda tilted her head up and kissed her. “It is.”

They didn’t rush home. They strolled, stealing kisses at red lights, sharing a street pretzel, and laughing like no one was watching—just a couple in love, picking out dinosaur toys for a kid’s birthday and living a piece of the normal life they'd fought hard for.

---

The Birthday Weekend

The Barton farm was alive with energy—kids darting across the yard with superhero masks and foam swords, music drifting from the porch speakers, and the scent of grilled food in the air. A bright dinosaur-shaped bounce house roared intermittently, thanks to a little button Nathaniel couldn’t stop pressing.

“Why does that thing growl every five seconds?” Laura asked with a chuckle, joining Wanda and Nat under the shade of the big oak tree with drinks in hand.

“Because Y/N showed Nate how to do it,” Nat replied dryly, sipping from her cup. “She’s enabling him. Chaos recognizing chaos.”

Wanda laughed softly, but her attention remained fixed on Y/N. Across the yard, Y/N was dramatically pretending to be a captured villain, wrapped in streamers as Nathaniel and Cooper shouted about locking her up. She stumbled back with exaggerated groans, fell onto the grass with flair, and made the kids burst into delighted laughter.

“She’s good with them,” Laura said, watching the scene unfold with a fond smile.

“She is,” Wanda agreed, her voice quiet, full of something deeper. Her gaze never wavered from Y/N, who now had Nathaniel perched on her back like a tiny superhero riding into battle.

Laura noticed the way Wanda’s fingers brushed absently over the inside of her wrist, where Y/N’s name was marked—her soulmate. Y/N immediately raise her head with a smile she only gives to Wanda, feeling her own wrist tingle. And Wanda just smiles back.

“You two talk about the future yet? Marriage, kids?” Laura ask seeing their interaction.

Wanda flushed slightly but nodded. “We’ve started. Not everything, not yet. But we know what we want. And we want it with each other.”

“That’s the bond,” Laura said knowingly, lifting her own wrist and brushing her fingers over Clint’s name. “When it’s real, when it’s right, you don’t need everything figured out. You just know.”

Wanda glanced at her with a soft smile, then at Nat, who remained suspiciously quiet.

“She’s already yours,” Nat said teasingly, nudging her shoulder. “Even if you weren’t soulmates, the way she looks at you would give it away.”

Wanda’s gaze drifted back to Y/N just as she scooped Nathaniel up and spun him in a wide circle. The boy shrieked with glee, arms outstretched, completely trusting her. Wanda’s heart clenched, and for a moment, the rest of the world faded into the background. All she could see was Y/N—laughing, loving, alive.

“Being with her feels like breathing,” Wanda murmured. “Like I didn’t even realize I was holding my breath until we found each other.”

Laura smiled warmly. “That’s how I felt with Clint. It’s soul-deep. Hard to explain, but impossible to ignore.”

“And now,” Nat added, “you two are in the honeymoon stage. Might be stuck in it for a while.”

“Forever sounds fine with me,” Wanda said without hesitation, a dreamy smile playing at her lips.

And as they stood together, watching Y/N collapse onto the grass with Nathaniel giggling in her lap, Wanda knew—with her whole heart and soul—that this was only the beginning of the future they would build. Together.

---

The Barton farmhouse quieted as the evening rolled in, soft laughter still echoing from the kitchen where Clint and Laura were cleaning up. The kids had finally crashed after hours of games, cake, and chaos. Nat had taken one of the smaller rooms, grateful for the quiet. Wanda and Y/N were shown to the guest room upstairs—cozy, with a big window overlooking the back pasture, and a bed that was just the right amount of creaky.

Wanda entered first, kicking off her shoes, her body still buzzing from the joy of the day. Y/N closed the door behind them, flipping the small lamp on. The warm yellow light painted the room in soft golds and browns.

“They really wore Nathaniel out,” Wanda said, pulling her hair out of its ponytail and letting it fall around her shoulders.

“They wore me out,” Y/N said with a playful groan as she stretched, cracking her back. “I think I pulled something when I was pretending to be a villain in the treehouse battle.”

Wanda turned, smiling. “You looked like you were having the time of your life.”

“I was. With you watching? Always.”

Y/N crossed the room, her arms circling Wanda’s waist, and she buried her face in the crook of her neck. Wanda wrapped her arms around her, holding her close, grounding herself in the warmth and scent of her soulmate.

“Today was perfect,” Wanda whispered. “I could do this with you forever.”

Y/N leaned back slightly to look into her eyes. “Then let’s.”

They shared a soft kiss—no rush, no fire, just intimacy and affection and the quiet promise of forever. When they broke apart, Y/N pulled her shirt over her head, and Wanda followed suit, both settling into bed under the thick quilt.

Wanda curled into Y/N’s side, fingers tracing over her chest, then down to her wrist, where her name was etched in elegant script. “It still feels like a dream,” she murmured. “That you’re mine.”

Y/N kissed her temple. “And you’re mine. For good.”

They lay in silence for a moment, listening to the distant hum of the house, the sound of crickets outside. Wanda sighed in contentment and nuzzled in closer.

“Let’s have this one day,” she said, eyes fluttering shut. “And all the days after.”

Y/N smiled, pulling her in tighter. “You got it, baby. Every one of them.”

And wrapped in each other’s arms, they drifted off—soulmates safe, together, and finally at peace.

---

The days rolled by in a quiet rhythm of love, missions, laughter, and stolen moments. Somewhere between early morning coffee kisses and late-night whispers under shared blankets, time slipped past like sand between fingers, and when they realize it was already six months since Wanda stopped rejecting.

“Six months,” she murmured aloud, her fingers brushing over the date circled in red. The day they finally stopped denying the bond. The day she chose Y/N fully, without fear or guilt.

She found Y/N in the training room, sweat glistening on her brow, cheeks flushed from sparring. Wanda just stood in the doorway for a second, watching her—her soulmate. Her partner in everything. The woman who had taught her that love didn’t have to hurt.

When Y/N caught her staring, she grinned. “Hey, babe. You okay?”

Wanda walked over, wrapping her arms around Y/N’s waist from behind and resting her cheek between her shoulder blades.

“Did you know it’s been almost six months?” she whispered.

Y/N paused, her hands settling on Wanda’s. “Really?” She turned around, smiling softly. “Feels like yesterday. Feels like forever.”

Wanda leaned up to kiss her. “It’s everything.”

They sat down on the edge of the mat, Y/N pulling Wanda into her lap as she ran her fingers through her hair. “We’ve been through a lot in less than a year,” she said quietly. “But I wouldn’t trade a second of it.”

“Even the messy ones?” Wanda teased, resting her forehead against Y/N’s.

“Especially the messy ones. That’s how I knew it was real.”

Wanda kissed her again—slow, reverent, full of everything words couldn’t say.

Y/N deepen the kiss making Wanda moan slightly into her mouth. And when they break the kiss Y/N murmur “Do you wanna go eat somewhere with me tonight?”

Wanda smiled against Y/N’s lips, her fingers still tangled in the hem of her shirt. “Hmm… is this a date?”

Y/N grinned, her nose brushing Wanda’s. “Of course it’s a date. You think I’d let six months go by without taking my girl out to celebrate properly?”

Wanda’s eyes lit up, the way they always did when Y/N called her that—my girl. She bit her bottom lip, nodding.

“I’d love that.”

Y/N leaned back just enough to catch her breath, her heart still pounding from the kiss—and the look Wanda gave her. “Alright, then. You shower, I’ll shower, and let’s get dressed up. Somewhere nice.”

Wanda raised a brow, teasing, “Nice as in candlelight and violins? Or nice as in greasy fries and milkshakes?”

Y/N pretended to think it over. “Hmm… maybe both. Fries first, violins after.”

Wanda laughed softly, the sound warming the air between them. “That’s why I love you.”

Y/N blinked, heart skipping a beat. Wanda had said it so casually, so confidently—but it landed like thunder in her chest. She smiled.

“Good,” she whispered, brushing a soft kiss to Wanda’s cheek. “Because I’m pretty sure I’m crazy about you.”

“Pretty sure?”

“Hopelessly.”

They kissed once more—gentle and full of promise—before Y/N stood and offered her hand.

“Come on, Maximoff. Let’s celebrate almost-six-months with something that isn’t leftover pizza.”

Wanda took her hand, rising to her feet. “Only if you let me wear the red dress you like.”

Y/N smirked. “Deal. But fair warning, I might not make it through dinner if you do.”

Wanda leaned in with a sly look. “Then we’ll just have dessert at home.”

---

The night started perfectly.

Wanda looked stunning in the red dress Y/N loved—elegant, effortless, and entirely captivating. Y/N couldn’t take her eyes off her, and Wanda couldn’t stop smiling at the way her soulmate kept sneaking glances like she was seeing her for the first time all over again.

They were seated at a cozy corner table, low candlelight flickering between them, the clinking of glasses and quiet hum of conversation creating an intimate backdrop. They held hands over the table, sipped wine, laughed at old mission stories, and toasted to ten months of love, chaos, and finding peace in each other.

But as the food arrived—plated beautifully, rich in aroma—Wanda’s expression changed.

Her smile faltered.

She blinked a few times, then pressed a hand lightly to her stomach. “Sorry, I—I don’t know what’s wrong. I suddenly feel…”

Her voice trailed off. She clamped a hand over her mouth, eyes wide with panic.

“Wanda?” Y/N asked, concerned, already rising from her seat.

Wanda didn’t answer. She bolted from the table, heels clicking in a rush across the floor, and disappeared into the women’s restroom.

Y/N followed without hesitation, ignoring the startled looks from a couple of nearby diners. When she pushed through the restroom door, she found Wanda in the far stall, retching violently.

Y/N’s heart sank. She closed the stall door behind her and crouched beside her, holding her hair back and rubbing gentle circles on her back. “I’m here, baby. Just breathe. It’s okay.”

Wanda didn’t speak for a while, just coughed and heaved until her stomach was empty. When it was finally over, she sagged against the stall wall, panting and pale.

“I’m so sorry,” she whispered, eyes fluttering shut. “I don’t know what happened. The smell hit me and then—just everything turned.”

“Shh, don’t apologize,” Y/N said, brushing strands of hair from her forehead. “You’re okay. We’ll get you home.”

Wanda nodded weakly, allowing Y/N to help her to her feet. She rinsed her mouth and splashed cold water on her face at the sink, still visibly shaken but grateful.

“I ruined our night,” she muttered, still not quite meeting Y/N’s eyes.

Y/N turned her gently by the shoulders and looked at her. “You didn’t ruin anything. You scared me, sure. But we’ll try dinner again some other time. Right now, I just want to get you somewhere comfy.”

Wanda managed a small smile as Y/N kissed her temple and wrapped an arm around her. She leaned into the touch, letting the familiar warmth of her soulmate steady the trembling in her limbs.

They exited the restaurant quietly, with Y/N flagging down a car rather than using her speed—Wanda looked too shaken to be swept off her feet like usual. The ride back to the compound was silent, but not uncomfortable. Wanda rested her head on Y/N’s shoulder, eyes closed, breathing slow. Y/N held her hand the whole way.

Once inside their room, Y/N helped her out of her dress, letting her change into one of her oversized T-shirts and a pair of soft shorts. Wanda moved slowly, still a little off balance, and Y/N noticed—really noticed—how pale she looked under the warm lighting.

“You want some water? Or tea?” Y/N offered, brushing Wanda’s hair back.

Wanda shook her head. “Just… lie with me?”

Y/N didn’t need to be asked twice. She climbed into bed and opened her arms, and Wanda curled into her side without hesitation. The bond between them pulsed softly, a gentle hum that grounded them both.

Y/N held her close, the steady beat of Wanda’s heart under her palm both a relief and a concern. She pressed a soft kiss to Wanda’s forehead and whispered, “Are you sure you’re okay? You’ve never gotten sick like that before. Maybe it’s a bug? Or something you ate?”

Wanda didn’t answer right away. Her fingers toyed with the hem of Y/N’s shirt, a nervous habit, and her eyes stayed trained on some distant point on the ceiling. Finally, after a beat of silence, she said softly, “I’m fine.”

Y/N frowned, gently tilting Wanda’s chin so their eyes met. “Wands. That wasn’t nothing. You nearly collapsed in the restaurant.”

“I know,” Wanda said, voice barely above a whisper. “I just… I didn’t want to ruin tonight.”

“You didn’t ruin anything,” Y/N said firmly. “But you’re scaring me, baby. Talk to me. If something’s wrong, I need to know.”

Wanda’s throat worked as she swallowed, and for a moment, it looked like she might say something more. But instead, she shook her head and snuggled in closer, burying her face in Y/N’s neck.

“I promise I’m okay,” she murmured. “I just needed to be with you. That’s all.”

Y/N didn’t push, not yet. She tightened her arms around her and let out a slow breath, choosing trust over worry—at least for now. But her mind wouldn’t stop spinning. Wanda was rarely this quiet when something was off. And that look in her eyes earlier—that wasn’t just discomfort.

It was fear.

Still, Wanda was resting now. Her breathing had slowed, evening out against Y/N’s chest. Y/N stroked her back in soft, repetitive motions, whispering small reassurances even as her gut twisted with unease.

She was lying. Not about being fine, but about something.

She just didn’t know what yet.

And that scared her more than anything.

Y/N held Wanda a little tighter, her hand resting gently on the back of her head. The rhythm of her fingers slowed against Wanda’s hair as a quiet thought surfaced—last time she got sick like this...

Her mind flicked back to a memory she’d tried not to dwell on too much. It had been months ago, back when everything was still tense and raw. Back when Wanda was still living in the other room. Back when she was still engaged to Vision, when he tried to be intimate with her…

Y/N sighed, her breath slow and heavy, and looked down at the love of her life resting in her arms. Wanda’s brow was still faintly creased in discomfort, lips parted as she breathed softly through her mouth, eyes shut but restless. She looked so vulnerable. So human.

Y/N wanted to ask. Wanted to say “Are you feeling like that again? Did something bring it back? Did Vision try to do something?”

But she didn’t.

Not tonight.

She brushed a kiss to Wanda’s forehead and whispered into her hair, “It’s okay. We don’t have to talk about anything. Just rest, baby.”

Wanda let out a barely-there hum, nuzzling into her chest. But Y/N felt the tension still lingering in her spine, like her body hadn’t fully let go yet.

She rubbed soft circles into Wanda’s back and closed her eyes, trying to ground herself in the feel of Wanda in her arms. The bond between them was steady but quiet, like it too was waiting—watching—holding its breath.

Y/N swallowed the unease rising in her throat and tucked it deep down.

Let it pass, she told herself. Let her breathe. Let her feel safe.

Tomorrow, if Wanda was ready, they’d talk. But tonight… Y/N would simply hold her through the storm.

---

Let me know your thoughts in the comment!

[sillygoose067]

hi!! is it possible for you to write one for lewis pullman in general or bob floyd inspired by this

Hi! Yes of COURSE it’s possible, I’m so glad you asked :) I chose to do Lewis for this one, but maybe in the future I’ll do a Bob Floyd version… 🤔💭

Also the tweet itself is so funny I swear I’ve seen it like 50 other times and still laughed at it. Thanks for bringing it back!

———————————————————————————-

Plus One, Minus Me

Lewis Pullman x Reader

You were halfway through another spreadsheet, fingers stiff from typing, when your phone started to buzz across the desk. The screen lit up with a name that made the corners of your mouth soften—Lew💞.

You tucked the phone between your shoulder and ear, already grateful for the break. “Hey, you,” you said, brushing a crumb from your lap. “What’s up?”

His voice came through, winded. “Quick question—where are you?”

You frowned faintly, clicking away from the screen. “Um. At work? Still chained to the desk. Why?”

There was a shuffle on the other end. Distant laughter. A thud, like someone had dropped something nearby. And then—faintly—a child's voice calling for someone named "Captain Lewis."

“…Wait,” you said, straightening up. “Where are you?”

“I’m at your family’s place?” he replied, like it was obvious. “The cookout. The one you told me about last week?”

Your brain did a somersault. You yanked open your calendar. June 25th — Family cookout, 3 PM — backyard, bring something sweet?

Oh god. You had told him.

“Oh my god,” you whispered. “I completely forgot.”

“I thought you were just running late,” he said, unbothered. “Your mom texted me the address this morning, so I just showed up. Figured it'd be polite to shake some hands and make a quiet exit.”

You groaned, already burying your face in one hand. “I had back-to-back reports this morning. I didn’t even think—I’m so sorry—wait, how are you even surviving out there? My family’s like, full-contact socializing.”

There was a brief silence, and then a huff of laughter.

“Yeah, I didn’t really get a choice. Your aunt handed me a pair of tongs before I even finished saying hello. I’ve grilled, stacked chairs, lost a round of trivia, and now I’m being roped into a scavenger hunt by your cousin? I think I’m her team captain now?”

You could almost see him: sleeves rolled up, awkwardly trying to blend in, probably blushing his way through small talk while balancing a paper plate.

“Lewis,” you sighed, equal parts charmed and horrified.

But he didn’t hear it. His voice had shifted, distracted again. “Wait—someone’s calling me—uh, hey, sorry, I can’t really talk right now, I’m being drafted into backyard dodgeball. Your dad’s on the opposing team and he’s been warming up for ten minutes—I think he’s taking this personally—okay, gotta go—bye!”

Click.

You blinked.

He hung up.

He actually hung up on you.

To play dodgeball.

At your family’s cookout.

That you forgot about.

A scoff caught in your throat—half disbelieving, half amazed. You shook your head and stared at the phone like it had betrayed you. Moments later, a message came in.

A photo. Blurry but full of motion. Lewis in the foreground, red-cheeked and triumphant, clutching a foam ball like a prize. Behind him: your dad mid-sprint, your cousin ducking for cover. Someone had stuck a makeshift nametag on Lewis’s shirt. It read: “TEAM MVP.”

Then came the text:

Lew💞: “Tell me this counts as cardio. Also tell your mom I’m winning? Sort of.”

You felt a smile start somewhere deep and involuntary. A quiet warmth that spread beneath your ribs.

You: “I can’t believe you’re just out there bonding with my entire family without me:(”

Lew💞: “Yeah, well. Someone had to represent you. I’m doing my best. Now if you’ll excuse me, your uncle just pulled out the water balloons.”

Pause.

Lew💞(follow-up): “P.S. Tell your boss you’re missing a great pasta salad.”

———

You managed to finish up your shift a little after sunset, eyes heavy and brain gelatinous from too many hours of spreadsheets and fluorescent lights. But as soon as you clocked out, your feet moved on instinct. You barely thought about it—just turned the wheel and pointed your car in the direction of home. Or at least, the temporary version of it: your parents’ house, backyard still glowing with string lights and the leftover echo of laughter.

By the time you pulled up, most of the chaos had thinned. The crowd had quieted to clusters of folding chairs and flickering citronella candles. A few cousins darted around with glow sticks; someone had put on an old playlist, the kind that lived in your family’s blood more than memory.

You stepped into the yard with a breath held like a confession.

Your parents were at the patio table, sipping something warm, plates scraped mostly clean. Your mom saw you first. Her eyes lit up, though she didn’t rise—just waved you over with a small smile.

“I’m so sorry,” you said as soon as you reached them. “I completely spaced. Work swallowed me whole.”

Your dad waved a hand. “Don’t worry about it. We figured you’d show up when you could.”

“Besides,” your mom said, patting your arm. “Lewis made up for both of you.”

You blinked. “He did?”

“Oh, absolutely,” she said, grinning. “He’s been playing referee, grill assistant, magician, babysitter, and apparently—”

Your dad cut in. “—the reigning water balloon dodge champion.”

You laughed, cheeks warming. “Where is he now?”

Your mom stood, nodding for you to follow her through the side of the yard. “He wore himself out. The little ones ran him into the ground.”

You passed the garden hose, a collapsed beach ball, and a pair of soaked sneakers—evidence of earlier warfare—and then turned the corner into the screened-in sunroom.

There he was. Sprawled on the old futon like a crime scene outline, one arm thrown dramatically over his eyes. His shirt was damp, hair tousled, and someone had draped a beach towel over him like a blanket. Your youngest cousin had left a juice box balanced precariously on his chest.

You stood in the doorway and just stared for a second. He looked so comfortable. Like he belonged there. Like your family had absorbed him fully, and he’d let it happen.

“He kept saying he wasn’t tired,” your mom said quietly behind you. “Then he sat down for one second and passed out like a light.”

You glanced at her, grateful.

“Thanks for looking after him.”

She touched your back, light as a whisper. “He fits, sweetheart. Good one, that boy.”

You smiled, then stepped forward to kneel by the futon. You gently moved the juice box, then brushed a hand along his arm. “Hey,” you murmured. “Ready to head home?”

He stirred, blinking slowly, smile groggy and crooked. “Did we win?”

“You definitely lost consciousness, so… sort of.”

He laughed under his breath, voice husky with sleep. “Your cousin is terrifying. I think I work for her now.”

“Come on,” you said, nudging him upright. “Let’s get you out of here before she demands overtime.”

You guided him to the car, waving your goodbyes over your shoulder as he leaned sleepily against you, still radiating warmth from all the attention and adrenaline. And as you drove, his head tipped gently against the window, you couldn’t help but marvel at it all.

By the time you pulled into the driveway, the stars were out and the air had that summer hush to it—cool against your skin, the kind of quiet that only arrives after a long, noisy day.

Lewis was half-asleep again in the passenger seat, arms folded, head resting against the window like he might be dreaming something sweet. You hated to wake him, but the porch light flickered on as the car door opened, and he stirred on his own, rubbing at his eyes.

“Home?” he murmured.

You nodded. “Just about.”

Inside, you helped him kick off his shoes while he yawned like a cartoon character. He dropped his keys twice, then muttered something about how your cousins had “the combined energy of a nuclear plant.” You snorted as you tossed the spare blanket from the couch over his shoulders and went to fetch a glass of water.

When you came back, he was standing in the kitchen doorway, eyes soft and half-lidded, just watching you.

“You’re staring,” you said, offering him the glass.

He took it with both hands, sipped, then said, “Your mom likes me.”

“She does.”

“Your dad said I throw like a ‘real man,’ which I think was a compliment.”

You laughed and leaned your hip against the counter. “You made quite the impression.”

He gave a sleepy smile. “I just didn’t want them to miss you too much.”

That made you pause. Then step forward.

And tuck a hand into the curve of his elbow.

“I think you distracted them just fine.”

You guided him to the couch and sat down beside him, legs curled under you, shoulder brushing his. He exhaled, deep and slow, like he was finally letting go of the day.

After a moment, you reached over, gently pulling a stray blade of grass from his hair.

He watched you with that look of his—soft, a little amused, all affection.

“Thanks for showing up,” you said quietly.

He blinked. “Of course.”

“No, I mean… not just for me. For them. For being there, even when I wasn’t. You didn’t have to.”

He leaned back, head tilted, eyes studying you in that unassuming way of his. Then: “Yeah, but you love them. And I love you. It’s not that complicated.”

Your breath caught a little. Because of how easy, how logical he made it sound.

And how right it felt, hearing it here, in this quiet pocket of the night, after everything.

You didn’t say anything right away. Just reached for his hand and laced your fingers through his.

Outside, a cricket chirped somewhere in the dark. The kind of sound that only made silence feel more full, not less.

Eventually, he sank sideways into the cushions and pulled you gently with him.

And there, tangled together on the couch, your fingers still warm in his, you revelled in this love you'd found.

[whenstarsundress]

— d is for drunk confession

you swayed on your feet a little, clutching your water bottle like it was sacred, cheeks flushed and eyes sparkling from the wine someone had poured way too generously. zayne stood just a foot away, watching you like he always did. quiet, careful, intense.

“zaaayyyne,” you whispered, drawing out the vowels, as if his name was a secret.

he blinked once, then again. “…yes?”

you looked around like someone might overhear. but it was just the two of you now, tucked into the corner of the rooftop party. music thumped faintly in the distance. the night breeze was cool.

“don’t tell zayne,” you whispered, swaying closer, your finger pressed to your lips like it was classified. “but…”

he tilted his head slightly. “…but?”

you leaned in, eyes wide. “but i like him.”

zayne’s heart stopped.

you nodded solemnly, like it was the confession of a lifetime. “like… a lot.”

he swallowed, breath caught in his throat. his hands twitched at his sides, wanting to reach for you, desperately, but not daring to.

“and he’s so…” you hiccupped, face scrunching up. “so tall. and quiet. and he listens, you know? he really listens. even when i talk about stupid stuff.”

“none of what you say is stupid,” he said before he could stop himself. his voice was rough.

you blinked up at him, lashes fluttering. “you think so?”

he nodded slowly, like any sudden move might shatter the moment. but then your smile faded, and your brows furrowed just a little.

“…but what if he doesn’t like me back?”

zayne exhaled like he’d been stabbed.

you looked down at your feet, swaying a little again. “what if i ruin everything?”

he couldn’t hold back anymore. one step, that’s all it took. and then his arms were around you in steady, warm, protective hug. you blinked up at him, stunned, cheeks still pink and lips parted.

“i’ve liked you for so long,” he said quietly, like it hurt to say. “i just never thought i could… have you.”

you stared. “you… you do?”

his fingers brushed your cheek. “you have no idea.”

you melted into him with a little breathless laugh, pressing your cheek to his chest.

“don’t tell zayne,” you whispered sleepily, “but i think i wanna kiss him too.”

he smiled for the first time that night. “i think zayne would really like that.”

and when you woke up in his bed the next morning—fully clothed, headache pounding, and a glass of water beside you—you found a little note tucked under your hand:

you confessed last night. i won’t make you say it again sober. but if you do, i’ll kiss you properly. —z

[rose24207]

I think I just fell in love with you all over again

Summary: While on a casual city date, you and Gotak unknowingly take part in a wholesome social experiment by comforting a shy little girl

Go hyun-tak x reader

A/N: inspired by my tt fyp. Also; does anyone want to be in my taglist for kdramas?

Navigation

It was a warm Saturday afternoon in the city—one of those rare perfect days where everything just feels right. The sun filtered through the high rises, dappling golden light onto the pavement as you and Gotak walked hand in hand, fingers loosely interlaced, drinks in your other hands, chatting and laughing as if nothing else in the world existed.

You had no real plans—just one of those aimless dates where the goal wasn’t to do something, but to be together. He had worn that dark hoodie you liked, the one that made his eyes look even softer than usual, and you had dressed down in jeans and a cute top, wanting to match the laid-back energy of the day.

"Do you wanna check out that vintage bookstore you told me about?" he asked, nudging your side with a little smirk. "The one with the creaky floors and the judgmental cat?"

You giggled. “Only if we get ice cream after. I’m emotionally preparing myself to be judged by a cat. I’ll need sugar.”

“Deal,” he said with a chuckle, and gave your hand a gentle squeeze.

But just as you turned the corner onto a quieter street, the kind where little cafés spilled out with outdoor seating and elderly couples walked hand in hand, you both heard a tiny voice call out.

“Um... excuse me?”

You both stopped and looked around until your eyes landed on her—a little girl, no more than five or six, standing with her tiny hands balled into nervous fists at her sides. Her big brown eyes flicked between the two of you. She had on a unicorn hoodie, one sneaker untied, and a shy, nervous look like she was about to cry but didn’t want to.

“Hi, sweetie,” you said softly, kneeling a little so you didn’t tower over her. “Are you okay?”

She looked down at her shoes and mumbled, “My mommy went to the toilet and told me to wait outside. But I’m scared to wait alone. Can you wait with me?”

Your heart melted instantly.

Gotak glanced at you, and without needing to say anything, you both nodded. “Of course,” he said gently, crouching down so he was closer to her height. “We can wait with you. Don’t worry, okay?”

The little girl nodded slowly, her body visibly relaxing. You both led her to sit on a nearby bench, positioned just outside a small café with a restroom sign pointing to the back.

You sat on either side of her, giving her space, not pressing with questions. Gotak smiled down at her kindly. “What’s your name?” he asked.

She hesitated, tugging the strings of her hoodie nervously. “Lila.”

“Hi, Lila,” you said warmly. “I’m Y/n, and this is Gotak.”

She looked at Gotak, her big eyes inspecting him carefully.

“You look really pretty and handsome,” she said suddenly, like she couldn’t help it anymore.

You burst out laughing—not in a mocking way, but in that surprised, heart-squeezed kind of way. Gotak’s ears visibly turned pink, and you caught him blinking in surprise.

“W-what?” he asked, scratching the back of his neck.

Lila nodded very seriously, like she was saying something scientific. “You look like a prince. But also like you could fight a dragon.”

You covered your mouth, trying to stifle a giggle, but it was no use. Gotak gave you a wide-eyed look, his lips twitching into a sheepish smile.

“Well, thank you,” he said, chuckling nervously. “That’s... really nice of you to say.”

Lila’s shyness returned immediately after that, and she twisted in place, clearly unsure what to say next. Gotak leaned in just a little, lowering his voice conspiratorially.

“Can I tell you a secret?”

Lila perked up and nodded, eyes wide.

“I’ve never fought a dragon before,” he whispered. “But I’ve read books about them.”

She gasped dramatically, and you chuckled again, watching the interaction unfold like something out of a movie.

“You like dragons too?” she whispered.

“Love them.”

Lila looked between the two of you, visibly more comfortable now. “Do you think dragons would be nice if we gave them snacks?”

“I think even dragons can’t resist cookies,” you said solemnly.

She giggled, kicking her little feet. “Me too.”

Minutes passed like that—talking about dragons, her favorite unicorn toy (which she called ‘Sprinkles the Destroyer’), and her theory that her mother could teleport. At one point, she leaned against Gotak’s side slightly, and he froze like a statue before relaxing and carefully adjusting so she could rest there more comfortably. You’d never seen him look more unsure and touched at the same time.

It made your chest ache in the best way.

You leaned toward him, murmuring, “You’re really good with kids, you know.”

He blinked at you. “Am I? I’m just winging it.”

“You’re adorable,” you whispered, brushing your hand briefly over his arm.

His blush deepened.

Eventually, two people approached from the direction of the café. A man with a camera and a woman holding a mic. You looked up, confused, until the woman smiled brightly.

“Hi! Sorry to interrupt—you two have just been part of a social experiment. This is for our YouTube channel Kindness Quest.”

Your eyebrows shot up.

The man held up the camera. “We wanted to see how people would respond if a child asked for help. Lila’s actually our niece, and her mom is just over there,” he said, pointing toward a woman waving from the side.

Gotak straightened in surprise, and you blinked in shock.

“Oh my god,” you laughed as you leaned you head against Gotaks shoulder. “We had no idea.”

“Yeah, you guys were so sweet with her,” the woman added. “A lot of people walked by or ignored her, but you stopped immediately. And the way you interacted with her—adorable.”

Lila waved. “They talked about dragons with me!”

The man chuckled. “We’ll be posting this next week, but if you’re uncomfortable with being shown, we can blur your faces or cut the footage.”

You and Gotak exchanged a look, then shrugged.

“We’re okay with it,” you said.

The woman beamed. “Thank you both! And thank you for being such kind humans. Seriously.”

After a few more thank-yous and another shy compliment from Lila to Gotak—“You’re still the prettiest prince I’ve seen”—you and Gotak resumed your walk through the city, this time a little more dazed and grinning like fools.

Gotak stuffed his hands in his pockets, his ears still pink. “I can’t believe she said I look like a prince.”

“She’s right,” you teased. “My mysterious, dragon-fighting, unicorn-loving prince.”

He rolled his eyes but was smiling softly. “It was... kinda nice. Talking to her.”

“You were so sweet with her,” you said honestly, nudging him. “Like... ridiculously sweet. I think I just fell in love with you all over again.”

He laughed, eyes crinkling. “Just for that?”

“That, and the way you said, ‘I’ve never fought a dragon before’ like it was the most serious confession of your life.”

He nudged your shoulder, and you both laughed, turning into the vintage bookstore at last. The wooden sign creaked, and the scent of old pages hit you instantly. The cat, true to its reputation, gave Gotak a judgmental once-over and promptly walked away.

You grinned. “Told you.”

He sighed. “I should’ve brought Lila. She could’ve handled that feline tyrant.”

The rest of the date was full of soft moments—browsing books you didn’t need, sharing a cone of mint-chocolate chip, and recounting the whole interaction with Lila multiple times, each time ending in laughter or a new dragon theory.

As the sun dipped lower into the horizon, painting the sky in hues of orange and lavender, you leaned your head on Gotak’s shoulder while sitting on a bench near the riverwalk.

“She really liked you,” you murmured.

He looked down at you, a gentle smile on his face. “I liked her too. And... I liked seeing that side of me. With you there.”

You turned to look at him, heart so full it ached a little. “You’re gonna be such a good dad someday.”

His eyes widened slightly at that, but then they softened. He didn’t say anything, just reached for your hand again, lacing your fingers together like it was second nature.

And in that golden hour glow, the two of you sat together, hearts light, smiles soft, and the sweet voice of a little girl echoing in your minds—“You look like a prince.”

Thank you for reading!

Taglist: @ipushhimback, @ladyoflynx, @lewishamiltonismybf, @cmleitora, @same1995, @amatswimming, @llando4norris, @dr3wstarkey, @hurtblossom, @ernegren, @esposamultifandom, @darleneslane, @stxr-lilac, @geumseongjelicker, @itzzezraa

[blasphemyandbackshots]

it started with a kiss. then another and another. then his mouth trailed down your neck, trembling against your skin like he was afraid to go further. but hungrier with every inch.

“you sure?” he whispered against your collarbone, lips brushing so gently you almost mistook it for a kiss.

you nodded. he looked up at you like you’d just handed him the sun.

“you don’t know what you’re doing to me,” he said, hoarse. “i’ve wanted this. you. for so fucking long.”

he peeled your clothes off slow, reverent, like you were made of silk and stardust. his hands trembled when he touched your bare skin. his fingers shook as he stroked up your thigh, pausing just before he reached where you ached the most.

“you smell so good, baby.” his voice cracked with desperation. “i’ve dreamed about this. about tasting you.”

he was between your thighs, kissing them like he was worshipping at the altar. spreading you open with warm, gentle hands, and whispering. “so pretty… fuck, baby, you’re dripping already.”

he didn’t tease, he dove in. tongue greedy and slow, lapping you up like he’d starve without it. he moaned into you like you were the one making him fall apart.

“sweetest thing i’ve ever tasted,” he gasped. “you’re gonna ruin me.”

your fingers tangled in his bright yellow hair as he devoured you hungrily, eager and devoted. he didn’t stop when you came the first time, hips trembling, thighs clenching around his head. he didn’t stop when you whined his name in a soft, shaky voice. he just kept licking, breathing heavy, desperate like he couldn’t get enough.

“just once wasn’t enough. baby, let me make you cum again. please. i need it.”

when he finally pulled himself up to hover over you, his lips and chin were slick with you. his pupils were blown wide and he looked wrecked.

“you’re all i want. you’re all i need.”

his thick, throbbing cock plunged into your sensitive pussy and you both gasped. your nails scratched his back and he moaned brokenly into your shoulder.

“you feel so good… i’m never gonna forget this, baby. never.”

“denki—”

“please. don’t say my name like that or i’ll cum right now.”

you laughed, then whined as he rolled his hips harder.

“i can’t stop,” he whispered against your lips. “not yet. not when i finally have you like this.”

he kissed you as he thrusted slow and deep. then faster and rougher, until he had you pinned, trembling, begging. until he came undone with a loud, helpless moan, collapsing against you, still holding your hand tight.

“mine,” he breathed, lips to your neck. “mine, mine, mine.”

and you knew, he’d never be the same again. but neither were you.

[soft4changbin]

Subtle sparks

Hongjoong x shy!reader

Summary: Hongjoong stays late at the studio to talk to a shy girl, trying to break through her quiet nature with gentle teasing and charm.

Word count: 602

The dance studio was quiet for once.

Only the soft hum of the speakers and the occasional squeak of Hongjoong’s sneakers broke the silence. Most of the others had gone for a late dinner, but Hongjoong stayed behind—said he wanted to work on a few ideas. In truth, he had a different reason.

You were seated against the wall, knees pulled to your chest, scrolling absentmindedly through your phone. One of the backup staff for ATEEZ, you mostly stayed behind the scenes—timid but reliable. Hongjoong had noticed you for a while now, always quiet, always kind, always slipping away before anyone could pull you into a conversation.

And he wasn’t usually shy, not like this. But something about the way you tucked your hair behind your ear, or offered a small, polite smile when spoken to, made him hesitate. He didn’t want to scare you off.

So tonight, he made sure you’d both be here. Alone.

“Hey,” he said, jogging over and dropping beside you, cross-legged. “You’re still here?”

You blinked, startled, then gave a tiny nod. “Yeah. Just waiting for the others to finish so we can walk back.”

“You didn’t want to grab food with them?”

“I wasn’t really hungry.” You looked down. “And… crowded places kind of stress me out.”

Hongjoong tilted his head. “Fair. I like quiet sometimes, too.”

You nodded again, and silence settled over the room. He tapped his fingers on his knees, trying to act casual. “You know, I’ve been working on a song.”

“Oh?” You looked up slightly, curiosity peeking out.

“Yeah. It’s kind of… soft. Different vibe.” He glanced at you, smiling. “I think you’d like it.”

“I’d like to hear it sometime.”

“Only if you promise not to laugh at my singing,” he teased.

You cracked a smile, eyes shy but sincere. “I don’t think I could ever laugh at you.”

God, he was so screwed.

“Okay,” he said, heart thudding. “Be honest. Have you ever been on a date with someone who writes music about you?”

Your brows furrowed slightly. “Me?”

He laughed softly. “Hypothetically. But yeah, maybe you.”

Your cheeks flushed, and you looked away. “No. I haven’t.”

“Well,” he said, shifting closer just enough for you to notice. “I’m trying to decide if I should ask this girl I know. She’s quiet, super sweet, probably smarter than me. Always kind. Kind of hard to read, though.”

You glanced at him through your lashes, lips parting slightly. “Maybe she’s just nervous.”

“Maybe,” he said softly. “Do you think she’d say yes if I asked her out?”

Your breath caught. “I… I think she might.”

He leaned in, voice warm now, but still gentle. “Would you say yes?”

Your eyes met his, wide and uncertain. But you nodded. Barely.

“I’d say yes.”

Hongjoong grinned, relief and something brighter flooding his chest. “Cool. No pressure. We’ll keep it simple. Just you and me. Somewhere quiet. I promise not to bring the guys or perform any dramatic love songs.”

You giggled, a small sound that made him feel like the sun had just peeked through.

“Okay,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper. “I’d like that.”

He stood up and held out his hand. “Come on, then. I’ll walk you back.”

You took it.

And for the first time that night, he saw you smile with no hesitation.

[heartsiebyul]

hello! Could I request for scarabia + riddle with a very paranoid reader? Thank you!!

╰─▸ ❝ Twisted Wonderland x reader!

featuring — Riddle : Kalim : Jamil.

✧ ─── ✧ ─── ✧ ─── ✧ ─── ✧ ─── ✧

☛ Riddle Rosehearts

You had checked your bag five times before class. Books, notebook, wand, everything was there. Still, you sat stiffly, tapping your pen as your mind raced. “What if I forgot something? What if I messed up the homework? What if someone’s mad at me?” you whispered, voice tense. Riddle, seated next to you, glanced over with a frown. “You’ve done everything right,” he said firmly. “You’re worrying over nothing.”

At first, Riddle didn’t understand your constant paranoia. But over time, he noticed the signs, how your hands shook when you thought someone was watching, or how you triple-checked your door every night. He started making sure everything was in order for you, double-checking his own notes just to ease your mind. “If it’ll help,” he’d say, “I’ll walk you through the checklist.”

One evening, when you were panicking over possibly upsetting a professor, Riddle sat beside you and gently took your hand. “You don’t have to think about everything at once,” he said. “Let me help carry some of the worry.” His words were quiet, but his presence grounding. With Riddle, you didn’t feel silly for being anxious, you just felt safe.

☛ Kalim Al-Asim

You were biting your nails again, eyes wide as you looked around the hallway. “Kalim… did I say something wrong back there? What if I offended them? What if they hate me now?” Kalim blinked, then smiled brightly and threw his arm around your shoulders. “Nah! You were super nice! They probably loved talking to you!”

Kalim didn’t always understand your worries, but he always tried to make you feel better. If you were scared of something going wrong, he’d help you go through everything step by step. If you needed to check something twice, he’d do it with you, humming the whole time. “You don’t need to be scared,” he’d say. “If something bad happens, we’ll fix it together!”

One night, when you were too anxious to sleep, Kalim brought you a blanket and a warm milk. “Let’s just chill and look at the stars, okay?” he said, pulling you close. “I’ll stay with you until you feel better.” With Kalim, your fears didn’t feel so heavy, he made the world seem a little kinder.

☛ Jamil Viper

“Did you lock the door?” you asked Jamil for the third time that evening, eyes wide with worry. “What if someone breaks in? Or if I left something out and it explodes?” Jamil sighed, calmly setting his book down. “Yes. I locked it. I triple-checked everything already, for you.”

Jamil noticed how you always thought something bad might happen. You’d worry about every little thing, spells going wrong, people hating you, disasters that never came. He didn’t tease you for it. Instead, he stepped in quietly, helping behind the scenes. “You overthink a lot,” he said once, brushing your hair back. “But it’s okay. I’m used to keeping things under control.”

He never said much when you panicked. He just stayed close, his steady voice grounding you. “Breathe. I’ve got you,” he’d say, holding you when you needed it most. Jamil didn’t try to “fix” your fears, he just made sure you didn’t face them alone.

✧ ─── ✧ ─── ✧ ─── ✧ ─── ✧ ─── ✧

erm, I think I did the req wrong, I feel like this is "overthinking" than being "paranoid" I'm sorry 😭😭😭

[rosieofcorona]

i’ve said it before and i’ll say it again….monica bellucci is mythal to ME

[heestruck]

Bad Desire ; Lee Heeseung [TEASER]

synopsis ; It was never meant to be more than a secret. But between late night kisses, and everything they never said, she fell harder than she should have. And he let her. Now they’re both left chasing something that was never built to last.

In which y/n and heeseung's paths probably shouldn't have collided. with his raging addiction, and her undying love for him, they navigate their way through a love that was never meant to last... or was it?

pairing ; student!fem reader x addict!heeseung

genre ; smut, angst

warnings ; drug use, and lots of it, emotional abuse, lying, kinda cheating if you squint, gaslighting, p in v smut, slight drug glorification, heeseung and reader kinda don't like each other at first, arguing, heeseungs kinda a dick, they yell at each other sometimes, let me know if i'm missing anything

do not read if any of this makes you uncomfortable. minors do not interact. there is a lot of heavy themes in this fic, so please read the warnings carefully before reading.

wc ; tbd

release date ; july 4th, 2025

teaser under the cut !

The bathroom reeks of bleach, stale smoke, and whatever cheap cologne the guy before them doused himself in. Heeseung wipes his nose with the back of his hand, sniffing once, slow and deep. The burn is already fading, replaced with the familiar clarity and a weightless buzz under his skin.

Outside the door, the music thrums like a second heartbeat. Sunghoon leans against the wall, arms crossed, a lazy smirk on his lips. “You know one day your brain’s gonna just leak out your nose, right?” Heeseung shrugs, eyes half-lidded. “Better out than rotting in there.” Jay laughs, pulling the door open to let the sound of the party spill in again. “You two sound like you’ve had this conversation before.” There’s a pause as the two exchange a glance. “We have,” Sunghoon says. “Every time he does something dumb.” His words accompanied by an eye-roll that comes to him naturally, “Which is often,” Heeseung adds with a grin, snagging the cigarette tucked behind Sunghoon’s ear and lighting it like it’s his.

They step out, smoke trailing behind them, the heat and noise of the party rushing in all at once. Heeseung’s eyes flick lazily over the crowd, bodies pressed too close, red cups in every hand, neon lights catching on sequins and sweat. Sunghoon elbows him. “You gonna dance tonight, or just brood in the corner like Batman again?” “I’ll dance when hell freezes and you get laid,” Heeseung mutters, exhaling smoke through his nose. “Ouch,” Sunghoon says with a mock wince. “Low blow. Even for you.”

Jay doesn’t laugh.

He’s staring at something, no, someone. Eyes locked across the room, jaw slightly slack, like he forgot how to act. Heeseung catches it immediately. “Dude,” he says flatly. “You good?” Jay doesn’t respond, causing Heeseung to follow his gaze. She’s standing with a group of girls near the kitchen, laughing at something, her drink cradled in one hand. Her hair catches the light, eyes wide and sparkling in that way that’s too fucking pure for this place. Black jeans. Black top. Sweet face, too clean for the party grit.

Heeseung rolls his eyes. “Jesus Christ, stop staring at her like a fucking perv.” Jay finally snaps out of it. “She’s just… I don’t know, man. She’s got—”

“What?” Heeseung cuts in, tone biting. “That good girl trying to be bad energy? The innocent preppy type who probably says ‘sorry’ when she bumps into furniture?” Sunghoon snorts. Jay shrugs, unfazed. “She’s cute.”

“She’s boring,” Heeseung says immediately, taking another drag. “Can already tell. Probably straight-A’s, runs on caffeine and validation, thinks this party is some edgy detour in her perfect little life plan.”

“You got all that from one look?” Sunghoon raises a brow. “I’ve seen that type before,” Heeseung mutters. “They don’t stay.” Jay watches her again. “Still wouldn’t mind finding out.” Heeseung doesn’t reply, but his eyes linger just a little too long this time. Something about her smile makes him twitch. Like she doesn’t belong here, and for some reason, that pisses him off more than anything else.

[camficdiner]

You’re writing is so good im obsessed with it all and love when i get to read the new pieces you publish 🤭❤️

can I request [1.2 2.1 3.6 4.2] ? Dying for some Quinn atm❤️‍🔥

☕️ Cam’s Fic Diner — Order 040

🍒 Thank you — for reading every fic, for staying at the counter, for wanting this one to hurt and heal. I made this one sweaty, shattered, and a little sacred.

Enjoy your meal love

-your favorite server

💬 “I’ve Always Needed You”

✨ Description and prompts:

Character: Quinn Hughes

Prompt: exes → hallway kiss after a brutal loss → hurt/comfort + desperate smut in the medical room

Word Count: 1.6kk

Type: angst + comfort + rough smut

⸻

🛼🍒✨🧁

You’re not supposed to be here.

You told yourself you wouldn’t come again. Told your friends it was over. That you weren’t going to stand in hallways like some ghost of who he used to love. That you didn’t belong to him anymore.

But the truth is — no matter how many weeks pass, no matter how shattered the ending — you still come.

You still watch.

And tonight, you already know what’s waiting on the other side of that hallway door: Quinn Hughes, broken.

The game was brutal. A blowout loss. No energy, no rhythm. The team collapsed under pressure and he took it like he always does — all on himself.

You saw it from your usual place, just behind the tunnel. You watched him skate off, jaw tight, eyes stormy, stick clenched like it could crack in his grip.

And now, he’s coming.

You hear the gear before you see him. The click of skates on concrete. The hiss of velcro. The unmistakable rhythm of Quinn’s pacing when he’s too angry to sit, too heartbroken to breathe.

Then he turns the corner.

Sweaty. Red-faced. Still in his gear — chest heaving under the pads, mouthguard hanging loose, hair soaked.

He sees you. Freezes.

You don’t speak.

Neither does he.

Just one look — like the oxygen left his lungs — and then he’s moving.

He presses you against the wall in two strides, hands on your face, mouth crashing into yours like the only language he has left. It’s not soft. It’s not careful. It’s need — bitter and beautiful and real.

You gasp, kiss him back. His gloves scrape your jaw. His chestplate crushes against you, damp and solid and still warm from the ice. He kisses you like he’s forgotten you ever left.

“Quinn—”

“Don’t,” he whispers, panting. “Don’t say anything yet.”

He pulls back just far enough to look at you, eyes glassy, voice broken.

“I need you. I’ve always needed you.”

Your heart cracks in half.

“You left,” you whisper.

“You let me.”

“You said it was better—”

“I was wrong.” He leans in again, forehead pressed to yours. “I thought I could be okay without you. Thought I had to be. But now…”

“Now?”

“Now I feel like nothing.”

You feel his hands trembling.

“I skate and I don’t see the ice. I sleep and I don’t dream. I hear my name and I hate it.”

“You’re the only thing that makes me feel alive.”

“Please. Just this. Just once.”

Your breath catches.

“Not just once,” you say.

“Then show me,” he begs. “Please. Show me I’m still yours.”

The med room is empty. Quiet. Sterile. The cot in the corner isn’t meant for this.

But it’s where you end up anyway — back hitting the thin mattress, Quinn kissing you like it’s oxygen, like it’s salvation.

He strips in pieces. Jersey tossed. Pads dropped. Hands shaking as he drags your shirt off, eyes darting everywhere like he’s afraid to miss a single inch of you.

Then he freezes.

His hand is on your ribs, thumb brushing under your bra — and that’s when he sees it.

A small tattoo, just under your left breast. Simple lettering. Familiar.

“Come home to me.”

He stares.

Doesn’t speak.

You feel your breath catch.

“You said that to me,” you whisper, barely audible.

“Every time you left for a road trip. Every time I panicked.”

“You said, ‘I’ll always come home to you.’”

His eyes flicker up to yours — glassy, wrecked.

“I didn’t know,” he says. His voice cracks. “You never told me.”

“You were already gone,” you say softly. “Didn’t think I’d ever get to show you.”

For a moment, he just cups your face. Breath shaking.

Then he kisses the ink. Presses his mouth to the words like they’re a vow.

“I’m home,” he says. “God, baby, I’m home.”

The need surges again. He tugs your jeans down, mouth on your skin. Pulls your underwear aside, barely patient enough to slide his own pants down before lining up — desperate, overwhelmed.

He sinks into you in one smooth stroke, both of you gasping.

“Fuck—still perfect,” he groans, thrusting deep.

You wrap your legs around him. Cling to him. Move with him like you remember exactly how this goes — the rhythm, the stretch, the sound of his voice when he’s losing control.

“I missed you,” you breathe. “Every part of you.”

“I know, baby. I know. Never again.”

His thrusts get rougher. Sloppier. He buries his face in your neck, fucking into you like he needs to live there.

“Say it again,” he begs. “Say I’m yours.”

“You’ve always been mine,” you moan. “Even when I hated you for it.”

That pulls a choked laugh from him — then a groan as he slams into you one final time, spilling inside you with a raw, broken “I love you.”

You shake with your own climax, nails digging into his back, tears in your eyes.

After, you lie tangled together. Breathing heavy. Sweat cooling.

He traces the tattoo again.

“You kept it. All this time.”

“It was never about time,” you whisper. “It was about you.”

He nods.

And kisses the words one more time.

“Then I’m not leaving again.”

You help him undress the rest — slowly, gently this time. He’s quiet. Soft. He holds your hand the whole time, tracing your wrist like he’s learning your skin again.

“I’m sorry I let you go,” he says.

“I’m sorry I made you think you had to.”

He presses his forehead to yours.

“We’re gonna fix this.”

“We already started.”

⸻

You leave the arena together. No disguises. No hiding.

Fans will notice. The media will guess.

But Quinn doesn’t care.

He laces his fingers through yours, kisses your temple, and says,

“Whatever it takes. I’ll make sure this time, you stay.”

[myluckyluv]

Pink Looks Better Ruined

CW: degrading kink, spanking , overstimulation ,clothes ripping ,dom yuji

If any of these themes are uncomfortable or triggering for you, please scroll past. 18+ only / MDNI.

The clock on your phone blinked past midnight. Again.

You sat perched on the edge of the bed, legs crossed, wearing nothing but a sheer pink lingerie set that clung to your curves like it was stitched on just for him. It matched his hair. On purpose. It was loud, attention-seeking, and utterly sinful.

And he hadn’t seen it. Yet.

Yuji had been gone all week on missions, barely texting more than “I’m okay” and “Sorry, baby.” You knew his work was important, but that didn’t stop the frustration bubbling beneath your skin.

You’d waited long enough. Tonight, he’d come home to you. And you weren’t playing nice.

The moment you heard the front door creak open, you shifted, posing sweetly with your hands in your lap—just enough cleavage peeking through the thin fabric to make your point.

“Baby?” Yuji’s tired voice called out as he kicked his shoes off.

“In here,” you purred, letting your voice drop to a slow, teasing lilt.

He entered the bedroom, sweaty from travel, shirt riding up slightly as he tugged it off—and froze the second he saw you.

His eyes widened. His throat bobbed.

You didn’t say a word. You just looked at him, posed perfectly on the bed in your skimpy, sheer pink lingerie—legs crossed, smirking, your fingers resting on your inner thigh, one strap casually slipping off your shoulder.

He stepped closer. “Damn, baby… you’ve been waiting for me like this?”

Still silent. You blinked once, then looked away with a huff.

Yuji frowned. “What, no smartass comment tonight?”

You crossed your arms beneath your chest, putting the cleavage on full display just to punish him. “You didn’t even notice.”

“Notice what?”

You scoffed. “The lingerie. Pink. For you. Your hair, dumbass.”

His eyes flicked down, then widened slightly. “Oh. Shit. I—”

“Don’t ‘oh shit’ me,” you said, turning your face away. “I’ve been waiting in this for hours. And you just waltz in like—”

Riiip.

“Yuji—what the fuck?!”

“I’m sorry—! It’s hot—it’s sexy—and I’m losing my mind—”

“You didn’t even appreciate it before you destroyed it!”

His hands gripped your thighs, dragging you to the edge of the bed.

“Fine,” he growled. “You want me to appreciate it? I’ll show you how much I fucking appreciate you.”

You gasped as he shoved you back, pinning you down, one hand sliding up your thigh, the other gripping your wrist tight above your head. “You bratty little tease,” he hissed. “You really thought you could dress like this, ignore me, and not get wrecked?”

“Maybe I just wanted to see how long it’d take before you begged,” you purred.

“Oh, you’re gonna regret that.”

In one swift motion, he dragged your panties down and tossed them aside, gripping your jaw as he leaned in, lips brushing your ear. “You’ve been walking around the house like this? Waiting for me like a needy little bitch?”

You moaned just at his voice, breath catching as he pressed you into the bed.

“You want me to beg?” he whispered darkly. “You’ll be the one fucking begging.”

Then his fingers were on your clit, rubbing tight, ruthless circles that made your thighs quake.

“Yuji—fuck—!”

“That’s right,” he hissed, fingers moving faster. “Moan for me. Say what you want, princess.”

“Please,” you gasped. “Need you—want you to fuck me—please, I’ll be good—”

He smirked, yanking you down to the edge of the bed and manhandling you onto your hands and knees. “Good girls don’t tease their boyfriends like that.”

His hand came down on your ass in a sharp smack that made you cry out. Another landed right on your clit, and your legs nearly buckled.

You were panting now, clenching around nothing, body desperate and soaked. “Please, daddy, please—just fuck me already—”

Yuji groaned, pulling his boxers down just enough to free himself before slamming into you with one rough, deep thrust that had you screaming into the sheets.

“You’re so fucking tight,” he growled, snapping his hips against yours with punishing force. “So fucking wet and all for me.”

His grip on your hips bruised, his cock hitting deep and hard, and your brain was gone. All you could do was whimper and beg between moans.

He wrapped a hand in your hair, yanking your head back to whisper, “You’re mine, you hear me? This pussy’s mine.”

You cried out again as his pace quickened, skin slapping, his other hand moving to rub your clit ruthlessly until your entire body convulsed.

You came with a sob, legs trembling, voice cracked from how loud you’d been. And still—he didn’t stop.

“Too much—Yuji—please, I can’t—”

“Oh, you can,” he panted. “You’re gonna cum again. And again. Until you learn your fucking lesson.”

He flipped you over, spread your legs wide, and drove back in, fucking you through your high with gritted teeth and hungry eyes. “You’re gonna cream on my cock one more time, slut. Be a good girl and take it.”

You were nearly sobbing when the next orgasm tore through you, back arching, body twitching beneath him. That pushed him over the edge—he let out a deep moan, spilling into you as your name broke on his lips.

He collapsed over you, both of you panting, sweaty, wrecked.

Then—softness.

Yuji kissed your cheek. “Baby… you okay?”

You nodded slowly, trembling in his arms. “Just… holy fuck.”

He chuckled, pressing lazy kisses down your neck. “You brat. You knew exactly what you were doing.”

“You ripped my favorite set.”

“I’ll buy you ten more.”

You sighed. “They better all be pink.”

He groaned. “You’re gonna kill me.”

[kathlare]

hi hi i absolutely love your writing and this universe so much, i was wondering (totally fine if you’re not comfortable with writing this but i just thought i’d ask) if you could write something set in 2025 where lando and amelie have sex on her period… i need the comfort rn 🙃😩 i know this is a bit much to ask but i love your smut chapters sm

Hii!! 💕 First of all, thank you so, so much for all the love and support — it really means the world 🥺 And thank you for feeling comfortable enough to ask for this! You’re absolutely not asking too much, and I’m so happy to say that I’ve gone ahead and written this chapter for you. Here it is — I really hope you like it and that it gives you the comfort you’re looking for 💗🔥

If you ever have more requests, you know where to find me! 🌙✨ Enjoy!!

woman

Lando Norris x Amelie Dayman

Summary: Amelie finds herself struggling with discomfort during a work trip, and Lando steps up to support and care for her.

Wordcount: 4.4 k

Warnings: smut

full masterlist // request over

June 11th, 2025 - Lake Como, Italy

Lando was standing by the edge of the terrace overlooking the shimmering waters of Lake Como, the early afternoon sun casting a warm glow over the scene. The TUMI campaign shoot was in full swing, and Lando, dressed sharp in a sleek navy blazer with crisp white shirt and matching tailored pants, was effortlessly posing with the brand’s latest luggage collection. His usual easy charm was on full display — the half-smile, the cocked eyebrow, the subtle lean against the vintage wooden railing.

Behind the scenes, Amelie sat quietly beside a couple of Lando’s team members — his race engineer and a photographer who had flown in specially for this shoot. She was wearing a loose linen blouse and light jeans, hair pulled back casually, watching Lando with that familiar mix of admiration and playful affection that never failed to make him feel like the luckiest guy alive.

—Hey, Ames, did you see that?— one of the crew nudged her, laughing.

—What?— Amelie grinned, sipping a bottle of sparkling water.

—That look he just gave the camera. Total model shit.—

She laughed softly, eyes never leaving Lando as he shifted stance, his focus razor sharp but his mind clearly half on her.

Then, suddenly, Amelie’s face tightened ever so slightly. A sharp, unfamiliar twinge settled low in her abdomen.

—Fuck.— She muttered under her breath.

The pain was subtle but insistent — a dull ache crawling its way into discomfort. Her mind raced through the possibilities. Could it be her period arriving? She hadn’t really tracked it well lately with everything going on, but this felt like that familiar warning.

She excused herself gently from the conversation, murmuring, —I’ll be right back.—

The path to the bathroom felt longer than it was, every step tinged with that low, growing ache that made her wince when she wasn’t careful. Her purse bounced against her hip as she finally shut the door behind her.

She quickly checked — and yep, there it was. A small but unmistakable crimson stain on her panties.

—Okay, Ames, you got this.— She pulled out a tampon from her bag, carefully handled the situation, and took a deep breath before washing her hands and looking at herself in the mirror.

The sharpness in her stomach was still there, but now manageable.

Back outside, she smoothed down her blouse, feeling a little stronger, and headed back to the shoot.

As she approached the group, her eyes locked onto Lando’s across the sunlit terrace.

He caught the moment, his brows knitting for a heartbeat before his lips moved silently—no sound coming out, but the message clear: You okay?

Amelie gave him a small, determined thumbs-up and a half-smile that said, I’m fine. Just hang tight.

She sat down again beside the team, feeling the ache still lurking beneath her skin like a ticking timer, knowing the worst wasn’t over yet.

Lando’s eyes never left her. Even as the camera clicked around him and the photographer shouted out directions, his focus kept drifting back to where Amelie sat, trying to look casual but clearly unsettled. The way she shifted in her seat, one leg crossed then uncrossed, her hand resting—then pressing—lightly against her lower stomach. The crease between her brows she kept trying to smooth away.

He felt a familiar pang—protective, concerned, and honestly a little helpless. This wasn’t like the usual behind-the-scenes nerves or tiredness after long flights. He knew that look, that subtle discomfort, from the months they’d spent figuring out each other’s quirks and lows.

Lando’s smile faded just a little as he glanced away from the camera, lips pressed together. The photographer was yelling something about “more intensity, Lan!” but Lando barely heard it. His eyes flicked back to Amelie, who was fidgeting again—shifting on the chair, trying to settle, her fingers tracing small circles over her stomach like she was trying to rub the pain away.

Without missing a beat, Lando raised a hand toward the shoot’s assistant.

—Hey, mate, can we take a quick break?— he said, voice calm but firm.

The assistant nodded, and the crew began to pause, some lowering their cameras.

Lando walked over to Amelie with long strides, kneeling down beside her chair.

—Hey, Ames, you okay? You don’t look so good.—

Amelie forced a small smile but shook her head slowly.

—Just cramps, Lan. It’s fine.—

He shook his head.

—No, not fine. Let’s get you out of here for a bit. Someone from the team will walk you back to the hotel, yeah? I’ll catch up later.—

Amelie stood up, a little unsteady, clutching her purse.

—I can wait here, really.—

Lando reached out, pulling her gently back by the waist.

—Nope. You’re not waiting here looking like you’re about to pass out. You’re going back, and I’m making sure of it.—

He glanced at the nearby assistant.

—Mate, grab her things, please.—

The assistant nodded and hurried over, picking up Amelie’s bag and some of her things.

Lando gave Amelie a quick, reassuring kiss on the temple.

—I’ll be back soon. You rest, yeah? Call me if you need anything.—

Amelie’s eyes softened, and she nodded.

—Thanks, Lan.—

They started toward the exit, the assistant leading the way with her belongings.

Lando glanced back over his shoulder at the shoot as they walked.

—Don’t have too much fun without me.—

Amelie smirked, leaning into his side.

—No promises.—

Lando chuckled, squeezing her hand gently.

—You’re a bloody mess sometimes, Ames.—

—You love it.—

—More than you know, baby.—

They disappeared through the doors, the late afternoon sun casting long shadows over Lake Como as they left the shoot behind, ready to face whatever the day had next — together.

-------------

liked by sainzspice, papayafam, and others

ameliesunshine: Amelie spotted with a fan in Italy today 🇮🇹♥️ looking like an actual angel (as always) and making someone’s day brighter!

View all 27,015 comments

sainzspice: amelie making italy her runway like it's NOT a grocery run 😭 → paddockbabes: @sainzspice LANDO ON HIS KNEES RN

f1babygirl: amelie in italy? lando already booking a flight. mark my words. → l4ndo4ever: @f1babygirl jet-set boyfriend era is so real rn 😌✈️

strawberriie: amelie in italy? lando about to teleport there in .5 seconds 😭 → pitlanepass: @strawberriie he’s already googling flights rn

papayadrive: no way she looks that cute in candids too?? unfair!! → lanmelieluvr: @papayadrive lando punching air somewhere

papayafam: she’s too cute like how is lando functioning knowing she’s out here looking like this 😩

paddockvibes: lanmelie doing long distance? nah he’s def about to teleport to italy

gridgirlie: ames in italy = lando looking for “urgent sponsor meetings” near milan 😂 → lane4melie: @gridgirlie LANDO IS ALREADY ON FLIGHTRADAR I BET

ameliesfiles: she’s so pretty but lowkey looks tired 🥺 someone get this girl some tea and a blanket → lanmeliequeen: @ameliesfiles lando already taxiing the jet as we speak

papayadrama: ames looking a lil pale… lando get ur girl some rest!! 😭

f1tealeaks: ames pls rest up!! we don’t want a sick queen 😞 → lanmelie4ever: @f1tealeaks lando’s calling room service for a gallon of tea rn

tracksidegossip: she looks like she needs a long nap and a cuddle 😔 → lanmelieluv: @tracksidegossip and lando’s probably sending a “you okay? 🥺” text every 5 mins

f1circuitcrush: ames pale as a ghost and STILL serving?! iconic. → gridgossip_: @f1circuitcrush lando in the background like “you’re done. bed. now.” 😂

-------------

The camera was already recording when Lando sank down into the couch, brushing hair out of his eyes, grinning sheepishly. The setup was crisp and clean: a cozy corner of the hotel room, warm afternoon light pouring in from the windows, and his well-worn, much-traveled TUMI backpack resting on the table in front of him.

—Hey, everyone,— he started, brushing a hand down the surface of the bag, the faintest smirk tugging at his lips. —So, I guess this is the ‘What’s in my bag’ video… which, full disclosure, is kind of a mess. But that’s sort of the point, right?—

With a shrug, he pulled the zipper and started unpacking.

The first thing he pulled out was a sleek laptop. —That’s mine. Not too exciting. Just where I review data, watch movies… reply to Amelie when she doesn’t text back quick enough.— He winked at the camera, brushing hair from his forehead.

Then came a charger and a set of noise-canceling headphones. —Standard stuff. Got to have music for the flights. Might be Amelie’s too, I’m honestly not sure anymore. We just… share everything at this point.—

He gave a soft chuckle and pulled out a small, cream-colored zippered pouch. —Alright, this one? Definitely Amelie’s.— He waved it for the camera. —That’s where she puts like… hair ties, lip balm, this tiny roller thing for headaches. Basically, the ‘I didn’t bring a bag so can I shove this in your backpack’ kit.—

He pulled out a pack of painkillers, then a neatly wrapped heating patch. —Yep. Those aren’t mine, obviously. Someone had cramps often and it ends up in here. Not complaining though. You’ve got to be prepared when you travel, right?—

Next came a sleek travel-sized bottle of Amelie’s favorite perfume. Lando smiled, brushing a finger over it like it was some sort of treasure. —She tucks this in sometimes. Never noticed until she’s like ‘smell this’ in the car or whatever. So now, I just carry it. Because why wouldn’t I?—

A hair scrunchie emerged, pastel and soft. Lando gave it a glance and shrugged. —More evidence that this bag isn’t just mine anymore. Honestly? It’s worth it. Means she’s with me, in some way, even when she’s not.—

Then came a granola bar, a small packet of gummies, and a little case of tea bags. —Yep. All Amelie. Because she swears I forget to eat when I’m working. So she sneaks snacks and tea into my bag every time. Not mad about it, to be fair.—

He pulled out a Polaroid photo next. Amelie, hair windswept and grinning, and him making a stupid face beside her. He smiled at it for a long moment before holding it closer for the camera.

—This one’s mine. Goes with me everywhere. Doesn’t matter where I am, track, hotel, airport, this makes it feel like home.—

Lando laughed quietly to himself and reached further inside the bag, fishing out a small, plain black case.

—Okay, full honesty here…— he said, cheeks reddening just a little as he held it up for the camera. —This is… uh… emergency boyfriend material.— He gave a sheepish grin, glancing sideways like he was trying to avoid full exposure. —Yeah, I forgot I even had them in here. But you know, gotta be prepared, right? Responsible and all that.—

He paused, then shrugged.

—Look, you never know. Plus, if you’re gonna be a decent boyfriend, it’s all part of the package.—

Lando chuckled again, shifting the bag slightly and digging deeper.

—Oh, and here’s one more thing...— he pulled out a small, worn set of keys on a familiar keychain, with a tiny charm that Amelie had given him. —These are the keys to my heart... or well, her place anyway.— He winked. —Officially stolen, no returns.—

The camera caught the faintest flicker of a smile, the warm glow in his eyes that only showed when he talked about her.

—Honestly, most of this stuff is… hers. Or stuff she says I need. And I’m not complaining. It’s kinda nice knowing you’re carrying around someone you care about with you everywhere you go.—

He paused, brushing a lock of hair behind his ear, the grin softening.

—So yeah, that’s my bag. A little chaotic, a little Amelie, a lot of boyfriend things. If you ask me, it’s the best kind of travel companion.—

Lando gave the camera a quick thumbs-up, then leaned back with that relaxed, cheeky grin.

—Alright, that’s enough oversharing for today. Catch you later, yeah?—

-------------

liked by sainzspice, papayafam, and others

lando_update24: Lando’s living that model life 🇮🇹✨ Spotted on TUMI Travel’s Insta, looking fresh and sleek while filming their latest campaign in Italy. Can’t wait to see the full drop!

View all 46,228 comments

paddockqueen: italian vibes got him looking like a whole snack 🍝👀 → norrisfanatic: @paddockqueen honestly, he’s making us all hungry for more than just pasta

vroomvroom_vibes: can he just stop flexing so hard pls my heart can’t take it 💔

speedqueen: lando out here flexin in italy 🏎️💨

driftgod: TUMI really said “hold my bags” and handed it to lando 🤩 → norrisstan101: @driftgod the way he’s serving looks makes me wanna quit racing and join fashion 😂

amelieloverx: bet ames is lowkey on set too, can’t wait for collab pics 🙌

lanmelie_4ever: italy trip confirmed for the power couple 🇮🇹✨ → speedqueen: @lanmelie_4ever I’m screaming they’re living their best lives rn

savage_pitstop: lando lookin like a snack, ames better be bringing the sauce 🍝😏 → lanmelie_4ever: @savage_pitstop 100%, italian vibes got him glowing

driftgod: ok but if ames is there, pls show us pics 😭🙏 → ameliefan99: @driftgod we’re all waiting on that lanmelie content

norrisstan101: the fact that lando’s working and ames probs nearby makes me soft 🥹

f1memequeen: lando out here multitasking: racing, modeling, boyfriending 🤡 → speedqueen: @f1memequeen the MAN is unstoppable

amelieloverx: send good vibes to our king he’s doing everything 😍

amelie_fanatic: she’s probably hyping him up behind the scenes 💖 → lanmelie_4ever: @amelie_fanatic 100%, queen supporting her king always

norrisstan101: lando’s smile in these pics is giving me “in love” vibes not gonna lie → lanmelie_4ever: @norrisstan101 that’s our lovebird for ya 🥰

f1memequeen: lando really out here making all of us jealous, the man’s got it all 👏

-------------

The key card clicked, and Lando pushed open the heavy door to their hotel suite. The Italian sun, which had been so vibrant outside, seemed to have retreated, leaving the room in a soft, diffused light. His tie was already loosened, and his blazer slung over his arm. The day had been long, a whirlwind of cameras, curated smiles, and endless directions, but all of it faded from his mind the moment he stepped inside.

—Amelie?— he called out softly, dropping his bag near the entrance. No immediate answer. He walked further into the room, past the small sitting area, and into the bedroom.

There she was. Curled on the plush king-sized bed, a rumpled duvet partially covering her, looking utterly miserable. Her face was pale, almost ashen, and a fine sheen of sweat was visible on her forehead despite the cool air conditioning. Her knees were drawn up tight to her chest, and one hand was pressed firmly against her lower abdomen, as if trying to physically contain the agony. She looked… shit. Really, truly awful.

—Ames,— Lando said, his voice instantly laced with concern. He moved swiftly, discarding his blazer and tie on a nearby chair. His shirt was unbuttoned as he walked, revealing the toned expanse of his chest. Within moments, he had shed his trousers, leaving him in just his fitted black boxers. The usual playful energy he carried had been replaced by a quiet, focused tenderness.

He carefully eased himself onto the bed beside her, the mattress dipping slightly under his weight. He didn't speak, just gently pulled her closer, wrapping an arm around her, letting her head rest against his shoulder. He started to stroke her hair, a soothing, repetitive motion.

She let out a small, pained whimper, her body still tense. Even nestled against him, the pain wasn't letting up. She tried to shift, seeking a position that might offer some relief, but it seemed futile. Each subtle movement brought another grimace to her face.

Lando pressed a kiss to her temple, feeling the clamminess of her skin. —Still really bad, huh?— he murmured, his thumb rubbing small circles on her arm.

Amelie just nodded, her voice choked. —It's… it's so much worse now, Lan. I feel like I'm going to throw up.—

He held her tighter, a familiar helplessness bubbling inside him. He hated seeing her like this, so vulnerable and in so much pain. His mind raced, trying to recall anything, anything that might help. Then, a random fact, something he'd skimmed in an article months ago while procrastinating on an email, resurfaced.

He hesitated, a faint blush creeping up his neck. It sounded… well, it sounded like an excuse. But he had read it. —Hey,— he began, his voice a little unsure. —I… I read something once. About how, uh, sex can sometimes help with cramps?—

Amelie, even in her agony, managed to crack one eye open and squint at him. If this were any other day, she would have burst out laughing, probably accusing him of being a "horny bastard" or asking if he'd just pulled that out of his ass. But today, the pain was too overwhelming for witty comebacks or playful banter. She was desperate.

She let out a slow, ragged breath, her eyes closing again. After a long moment, barely audible, she whispered, —Really?—

Lando nodded, his chest vibrating against her. —Yeah, I swear. Something about… muscle contractions, or blood flow? I don't know the science, but I read it.—

Another pause, punctuated by a faint groan from Amelie. Then, a sigh of resignation. —Okay,— she mumbled, the single word heavy with pain and a surprising flicker of trust. —Okay, fine.—

A wave of relief, mixed with a healthy dose of awkwardness, washed over Lando. He gently disentangled himself from her, the warmth of her body leaving him feeling strangely cold. —Right,— he said, pushing himself up. —Just… let me get a towel first.— He didn't want to make things any more uncomfortable for her than they already were. He quickly scanned the room for a fresh bath towel, his heart a little lighter, knowing he might actually be able to offer her some real comfort.

He found a large, soft bath towel from the closet, laying it carefully over the pristine white sheets beneath where Amelie lay. As he turned back, he finally shed his last piece of clothing, his boxers pooling at his ankles before he kicked them aside. He then knelt beside the bed, his hand gently finding the waistband of her jeans.

—Let’s get these off, baby,— he murmured, his touch feather-light as he helped her unbutton and slide them down her hips. She was still wearing the loose linen blouse, but he carefully eased that off too, her body a pale, trembling landscape beneath his hands. When he reached her underwear, he paused, his eyes meeting hers. She nodded subtly, trusting him. He delicately removed them, his gaze falling on the small, crimson evidence of her period. Without a word, he took the tampon, discreetly disposing of it in the trash can in the en-suite bathroom before returning to her side.

He then returned to her side, his gaze gentle, his heart aching with concern for her. She was still curled, eyes squeezed shut, but there was a flicker of anticipation, a desperate hope for relief in her posture.

He leaned down, brushing a stray strand of hair from her face. —Mi amor,— he whispered, his voice thick with tenderness. —Are you sure, baby? We don't have to.—

Amelie shook her head, a slight tremor running through her. —No. Just… please, Lan. Try.—

He nodded, understanding. He shifted, gently positioning himself over her, supporting his weight on his forearms so as not to press down on her tender abdomen. Her eyes fluttered open, meeting his, and he saw a raw vulnerability there that made his breath catch. He leaned in, kissing her softly, trying to convey all his care and adoration through the press of his lips.

As he moved closer, a soft gasp escaped her lips. The usual warmth and welcoming embrace he was accustomed to was amplified by her pain-induced tension. She was incredibly tight, a sensation that would normally drive him wild with a primal urge for dominance and speed. But now, it only fueled his resolve to be as gentle, as patient as possible. He moved slowly, deliberately, a silent question in his every careful push forward.

Her body, usually so pliant and eager, was resisting slightly, not out of unwillingness, but from the involuntary clenching of her muscles. He took his time, murmuring soft reassurances against her neck, his touch feather-light. He felt the subtle tremors running through her, and his heart clenched.

—It’s okay, baby,— he whispered, his voice low and soothing. —Just breathe. I got you.— He waited, letting her body adjust to his presence, his own breathing slowing to match hers. He felt the tightness, the delicate barrier, and he pressed forward with agonizing slowness, until finally, with a soft, strained sigh from Amelie, he was fully within her.

He paused, letting them both adjust, feeling the exquisite, almost painful grip she had on him. It was a maddening sensation, a challenge to his usual control, but he held it in check. His focus was entirely on her, on easing her discomfort. He started to move, slowly at first, barely a rhythm, just a gentle, rocking motion.

—You’re so good, mi amor,— he praised, his voice a soft murmur in the quiet room. He felt her shift, a tiny, almost imperceptible softening in her muscles as his words washed over her. Amelie always blossomed under his praise, and even now, in her agony, a faint hint of it reached her. —So beautiful. So strong.—

He watched her face, searching for any sign of change. The grimace was still there, but subtly, slowly, it began to ease. He deepened the rhythm, still tender, still gentle, but with more purpose now. He leaned down, kissing her eyelids, her cheeks, her lips, his body a warm, comforting weight against hers.

As the waves of pleasure began to build, he felt the rigidness in her slowly, mercifully begin to melt away. The tightness remained, a delicious, demanding pressure that whispered of her vulnerability and her need, driving him to be even more deliberate, more tender. He loved this feeling of being in control, but right now, his control was dedicated to her comfort, to helping her find that elusive relief.

Her breathing deepened, becoming less ragged, more rhythmic. A soft moan escaped her lips, not of pain, but of building sensation. He felt her hands tangle in his hair, her fingers gripping lightly as she arched against him, finally surrendering to the rising tide.

He kept the praise flowing, soft words of adoration, knowing how much it pleased her. —You’re amazing, Amelie. Absolutely incredible.— He felt the powerful clench of her muscles around him, a shudder running through her, and then a profound, utter release. The tension drained from her body, replaced by a soft, yielding warmth.

Suddenly, a different energy surged through Amelie. The desperate edge of pain had vanished, replaced by a deep, throbbing pleasure that coursed through her. She gasped, her eyes flying open, no longer clouded with misery but alight with desire. Her legs, which had been drawn up in a defensive crouch against the cramps, now instinctively wrapped around his waist, drawing him in even deeper, closer.

—Lando,— she breathed, her voice low and husky, entirely different from the choked whispers of moments before. Her hips began to move against his, a new, urgent rhythm emerging. —Go faster, Lan. Please.—

His breath hitched. He saw the change in her, the way her eyes now locked onto his, demanding. The subtle shift in her grip, the playful challenge in her voice despite its softness. The pain was gone. And in its place, the Amelie he knew, the one who loved to push him, to pull him deeper into their shared passion, had returned.

A dark, possessive gleam entered his eyes. His tenderness didn't vanish, but it deepened, transforming into a more powerful, unleashed care. This was what he craved, this raw, uninhibited connection with her. He leaned down, capturing her lips in a hungry kiss, and began to move as she asked, faster now, matching her newfound urgency, their bodies finally truly in sync, no longer fighting against the invisible enemy of pain. Each thrust was met with a moan from her, each deepening kiss a silent promise of pleasure.

As Lando picked up the pace, guided by her breathless pleas, the room seemed to fade away. It was just them, their intertwined bodies, the crescendo of their shared desire building with every powerful thrust. Amelie’s fingers dug into his shoulders, her moans growing louder, sweeter, no longer hinting at pain but pure, unadulterated pleasure. He felt her arch beneath him, her whole body trembling as she rode the waves, her internal muscles clenching around him in a final, exquisite grip. A raw cry tore from her throat, and moments later, with a guttural groan, Lando followed, burying his face in her neck as the tremors shook them both.

They lay tangled for a long moment, their breathing ragged, the humid air of the room heavy with their exertion. The silence that followed was profound, broken only by the slowing beat of their hearts. Lando felt the last vestiges of her tension completely dissipate, replaced by a pliant, contented softness. He lifted his head, gazing down at her, a soft smile gracing his lips. Her eyes, still heavy-lidded, met his, and a faint, satisfied blush crept across her cheeks.

—Are you… are you okay, mi amor?— he whispered, his voice still a little breathless.

Amelie let out a soft, almost purring sigh. —Yeah, Lan. More than okay. It… it actually worked.— A small, incredulous laugh escaped her. —You’re a genius.—

Lando chuckled, a warm feeling spreading through his chest. He gently shifted, pulling himself out of her body, the separation a soft, squishy sound in the quiet room. He then reached for the towel he'd laid down earlier, carefully dabbing her clean. He was meticulous, tender, ensuring she felt cared for and comfortable. As he moved, his gaze briefly flickered to his inner thigh, where a faint, dark smudge of red stained his skin. He registered it, then, without a word, simply ignored it, his focus entirely on Amelie.

Once he was sure she was as clean as possible, he pulled the duvet up, tucking it around her before carefully sliding his arms under her, lifting her easily. She was light in his arms, her body still warm and pliant from their exertion.

—Come on, baby,— he murmured, pressing a kiss to her damp hair. —Let’s get you properly clean. A nice warm shower.—

Amelie wrapped her arms loosely around his neck, resting her head against his shoulder. —Okay,— she whispered, her voice sleepy and content. She didn’t object, didn’t comment on the lingering mess, or the dampness beneath them. She simply trusted him, allowing herself to be carried, utterly exhausted but finally, blessedly, pain-free. Lando carried her from the bed, his bare feet padding softly on the cool marble floor towards the bathroom, leaving the rumpled, stained sheets behind.

[hcvney]

“ Stay Quiet ” final part.

Final part of stay-quiet-part-2

After another player gets too friendly with you during the day, Dae-ho’s mood shifts. This time, it’s not in bed. It’s in the girls’ bathroom stall after lights out — where Dae-ho sneaks in and finds you alone.

-

Rating: 18+ (explicit, nsfw)

Pairing: Kang Dae-ho / player 388 x F!Reader

Warnings: Rough sex, jealousy, possessive obsession, bathroom stall sex, wall sex, backshots, manhandling, overstimulation, minor choking (gentle), wrist pinning, dirty talk, aftercare, hard dom dae-ho

-

It was after lights out again.

You’d felt his eyes on you all day. Dae-ho hadn’t said anything since morning—but you knew the silence wasn’t peace. It was pressure. Brewing. Waiting.

He’d seen someone talking to you again. A guy from a different group. It wasn’t flirtation. Not even close.

But when you glanced up across the hall and saw Dae-ho staring, jaw tight, eyes narrowed—you knew he’d already made up a different story.

During lights out, you slipped out of the dorm and padded quietly toward the bathroom down the dim hall.

But the second you stepped through the door and the old hinges creaked behind you, you knew you weren’t alone.

The sound of shoes followed half a beat later.

You turned toward the mirror and saw him—his reflection entering behind you.

Dae-ho.

He didn’t say anything. Just stood there, arms loose at his sides, his eyes locked on you like he’d already decided something.

“What are you doing here?” you asked, voice soft.

He stepped forward. Calm. Controlled.

“You think I didn’t see you earlier?” he asked, voice low. “With that guy near the bunk corner? Laughing. Smiling like that?”

Your stomach twisted. “That wasn’t anything.”

“Yeah?” His gaze darkened. “Didn’t look like nothing.”

He grabbed your wrist—firm, not painful—and dragged you into the far stall. You barely had time to gasp before the door shut behind you, and the lock slid into place.

“Dae-ho—”

“Be quiet.”

His hand clamped over your mouth, eyes burning.

“You want to play dumb with me?” he whispered harshly. “Flirt with someone in front of me like you’re not already fucking mine?”

You moaned softly into his palm, body reacting despite your brain trying to keep up.

He spun you around, pushed you back against the metal stall door with a thud, then grabbed your jaw and made you look at him.

“I’ve been so fucking good with you,” he hissed. “Letting you act like this is just sex. Like you get to walk away every morning like nothing happened.”

You breathed fast, heart racing as he yanked your pants down to mid-thigh in one swift pull.

“But you don’t,” he growled. “Not anymore.”

Then he dropped to his knees.

You barely had time to brace against the stall wall before his tongue dragged through your slit—deep and filthy—moaning low in his throat like he needed you to survive.

His tongue dragged through your folds like he hadn’t eaten in days. You slapped a hand over your mouth as he sucked your clit harshly, then flattened his tongue against it, lapping in quick, tight circles.

You were already shaking.

He pulled back just enough to whisper against your thigh:

“You don’t give anyone else those eyes. Those sounds. This body. You understand me?”

You nodded, nearly crying from how close you were.

Then he stood..

He yanked your pants down further, spun you around, and bent you over against the bathroom stall wall.

You gasped, bracing against the wall—but he was already pulling his cock out, thick and heavy, rubbing the head between your dripping folds.

He didn’t wait.

He slammed into you in one hard, brutal thrust from behind.

You screamed into your palm, tears slipping from the corner of your eyes as he fucked into you with deep, unforgiving strokes.

He started thrusting—hard, fast, relentless—his hips smacking into your ass with loud, wet slaps.

“You don’t get to flirt. You don’t even get to fucking talk to them,” he spat. “I’ll make sure you can’t even walk to the other side of the room when I’m done.”

You moaned louder—unable to help it.

He grabbed your hair and yanked your head back just enough to whisper:

“Be quiet. Or I’ll make you scream for real.”

Then he fucked you harder.

His cock slammed into you again and again, the stall walls shaking slightly with every thrust.

Then, without warning, he yanked you up by the waist and spun you around to face him, your back hitting the stall wall just as he shoved his cock deep inside you, holding eye contact the entire first thrust

One hand pinned both of your wrists above your head.

The other squeezed your throat—not hard, just enough to keep you still.

“I should fuck you like this every night,” he growled into your ear, “until you can’t think of anyone else. Until they all know you’re not available.”

You clenched around him, your orgasm building sharp and tight in your gut.

“You want that?” he whispered. “You want me to fuck the thought of anyone else out of you?”

“Yes,” you gasped.

“Say it again.”

“Please, Dae-ho—fuck—yes, only you.”

He began rubbing your clit again—fast, tight circles—and you lost it

You came hard, pussy clenching around his cock as your body spasmed, head tipped back against the stall door, mouth wide.

“That’s it,” he hissed. “Squeeze me just like that—fuck—gonna fill you up again.”

You were still twitching when he thrust once, twice, then slammed into you deep, holding your hips in place as he came hard—warmth flooding you as his cock pulsed inside.

You both stayed there—panting, bodies slick, your back still pinned against the wall.

Then he leaned in over you, breath ragged, hands on your hips.

“I ever see you smile like that at another guy again…” his fingers slid over your lips. “I’ll bend you over the middle of the dorm and fuck you in front of them.”

-

The walk back was silent.

The halls were dark. The lights had dimmed to a dull hum, and the tension from earlier still pulsed in your body — not from fear… but from the way Dae-ho had taken you.

You definitely hadn’t expected how much it would leave you trembling even now — not from pain, not from regret — but from the way it unraveled something deep inside you.

And maybe… something inside him, too.

When you both stepped quietly into the dorm again, the air was thick with sleep. Snores, rustling, a cough somewhere on the far end. No one stirred.

He led you silently to his bed.

Not yours.

His.

And you followed without question.

You sat down slowly. Your legs ached faintly. Your throat still buzzed from how he’d whispered filth into your ear just thirty minutes ago.

But when you looked up at him now… he wasn’t that man.

Not exactly.

His eyes met yours—softer this time. Like whatever fire had burned through him in the stall had faded to ash. Like what remained… was gentler. More human.

“Lie down,” he said quietly. Not as a command—more of a plea.

You did.

And then he slid in beside you.

Not over you. Not dragging you down.

Beside you.

He pulled the blanket over you both, adjusted the edge under your chin like he was tucking you in. His hand moved to your waist, but only to pull you back into his chest — slowly, carefully, like you were fragile now.

Then you felt his fingers slip between yours.

Handholding.

You glanced down in the dark, and he was really doing it—holding your hand under the covers like it was sacred. Like he needed it.

And maybe he did.

His breath hit the back of your neck. Warm. Calmer than earlier. His fingers gently stroked yours, his thumb brushing your knuckles over and over.

Then, quietly:

“Was I too much?”

You turned your head slightly, surprised. “No… I just didn’t expect it.”

He nodded, barely.

“You didn’t deserve it that rough,” he murmured. “But I saw him look at you and… I lost it. I’ve spent days holding back. Making sure no one touched you. I guess I broke a little tonight.”

You didn’t respond.

So he kept talking. Quiet. Slower.

He squeezed your hand.

“You’re the only thing keeping me sane in here.”

That’s when it hit you.

He wasn’t just possessive. He was protective. Steady. Willing to burn the entire room down if it meant keeping you safe.

You turned slowly in his arms to face him.

And he let you.

You buried your face in his chest. He held you tighter, cupping the back of your head like you might slip away even now. His thumb drew circles into your back. His legs tangled gently with yours..

He didn’t say anything else after that.

And when you finally started to drift off — eyes heavy, fingers still laced with his — you thought:

He’s not just mine.

He’s the only thing in this place that feels safe.

-

note: A FEW MORE DAYS TO SEE THIS MAN AGAIN !!