#i wanted to respond to you to let you know i saw this

[no-144444]

don’t embarrass me- l.norris

summary: lando and you have a fight on NYE

pairing: lando norris x fem! reader

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You were angry. Every five seconds you had a friend asking if you and Lando had broken up, all because Maugi (one of Lando’s friends) was trying to make it look like she was with Lando. It was infuriating.

“You alright baby?” Lando whispered as he leant against you, the party already in full swing. You looked fabulous. Silver and gold for the new year. You looked like a million bucks. Yet you felt like a fraud. Every time you saw them together you felt yourself… shrink. Like you had to make room for their friendship. Whenever you’d try to talk to him about it, you were met with more questions than answers, and a lot of aggression.

You didn’t care anymore.

“I’m good,” you smiled. “You?”

“I’m great,” he smirked, pulling your waist into his. “You look fucking gorgeous,” he whispered, dotting kisses against your cheek.

You grinned. “Thanks baby.”

His grip tightened but over his shoulder you saw him. Oscar. Lando’s teammate. Lando’s friend. You had a plan, and you were going to make Lando pay for brushing you off.

“Wanna get out of here-?” Lando had started to speak, but he was cut off when you walked away, and straight into Oscar’s arms. He assumed after a little while, you’d come back. You didn’t. You and Oscar spent all of New Year’s Together, while Lando was stuck with Max and Pietra looking every part the perfect couple.

“Why are you sulking?” Max laughed, clapping Lando on the back.

“She’s gone off with Oscar,” he mumbled, looking up as he leant against the balcony railing.

“He is her best mate,” he pointed out. “Join the conversation, or at least hang off her like you usually do.”

He huffed. “She’s mad at me.”

“What did you do this time?” P asked.

“The whole Maugi thing kind of got to her, and when she’d ask me… I kind of brushed her off. She's been off for weeks.”

“So you fucked up?” Max sighed.

“I fucked up,” he nodded. “And now she’s ignoring me, and it’s 3 minutes to midnight.”

“She’ll let you be her New Year’s kiss, surely,” Max scoffed.

Lando nodded, deciding to go find you, but the uncertainty in his stomach had settled long ago.

He caught you from across the room, the absolute picture of beauty. Dancing haphazardly with Lily as Oscar held both your drinks, you danced, somehow looking somehow carefree and elegant at the same time. He smiled. The anxiety in his chest settled momentarily. You were still you. You were still his. You were just upset.

“It’s almost midnight,” he whispered as he wrapped his arms around your waist from behind, joining you in dancing as Lily excused herself to the bar. The red flashing lights and alcohol in both your systems made your dancing look a lot dirtier than it had intended to be, but alas, he just enjoyed feeling you close.

“Oh yeah?” You asked, turning around to him. “Finding Maugi anytime soon?”

He rolled his eyes. “You think I’d want her over you?”

“You don’t make it look any different,” you scoffed.

“Baby,” he smirked, practically laughing. “You’re the most perfect, incredible, kind, woman I have ever met. I love you. You’re my everything. I’ll admit when you came to me about it, I could’ve responded better, and I’m sorry. I was stressed about the way the media saw it, and I didn’t know how to respond to you. I’m sorry.”

You smirked. “That’s all I needed.”

He giggled, pulling you into him. How had he ever pulled you? He was such a loser when it came to you. He’d do anything.

“Do I get my midnight kiss?” He smiled, his cheeks blushing.

“You’re such a baby,” you chuckled as the timer counted down. You wrapped your arms around his neck. “Don’t ever embarrass me like you have, ever again.”

You pressed your lips to his and bit down on his bottom lip. You made him scared. Is it bad that made him hard?

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navigation for my blog :)

mclaren masterlist

[vaspider]

Listen to me. Listen very carefully:

They are trying to wear you out.

They are trying to wear you out, and they own most major social media now, along with many major media outlets. The disinformation machine is cranking along. You are going to have to slow the fuck down and read things before you help them wear out other people, too.

So you just saw a post about a real scary bill, hunh? Republicans want to make it a capital offense to pet dogs and repeal The Sky Is Blue Act of 1793, declaring the new official color of the sky to be squant? Damn, that sounds scary.

Let's go look up this fictitious "Make The Sky Squant Again Act" on GovTracker* & on the official legislative tracker on congress.gov!

Well, let's see... GovTracker estimates it has a 1% chance of even getting out of committee and a 0% chance of being enacted, while congress.gov says this bill has 2 cosponsors who have been in the House and combined total of less than a month. The bill doesn't have any actual text, and it was referred to 5 different committees.

That fictitious bill and a hundred others like it are quite literally not worth your time, and more than that, continuing to wring your hands about it and tell other people about the scary scary squant sky bill only does their work for them. It scares people, it makes them spend time and energy on it, and it wears them out. It is a legislative Gish Gallop, meant to throw so many things at people that we can't keep up.

Even calling or messaging your Rep in this case means their staffer has to waste time responding to you and letting you know that Representative Buttzonheads definitely won't support making petting dogs a capital offense, a thing that will never, ever happen regardless.

Staying engaged in this environment is going to require protecting your heart and protecting your energy, yes, but also protecting the energy of others. This is why WWII propaganda posters also included ones taking people to task for spreading panicky rumors and undermining morale.

Do you know why most observant Jews don't eat chicken and dairy together, even though the ban is on red meat and dairy together bc you're not supposed to cook the calf in the milk of its mother?** It's not because we think that chicken might secretly lactate or Just Because. It's because the rabbis decided that if I'm sitting out in public and eating turkey and cheese together, someone might glance at the turkey and mistake it for red meat and think, "oh, well, I know that Spider is a good Jew, there must have been a change, or maybe I can just justify it to myself that if Spider does it, it must be permissible to bend the rules just that much." And I would then be accidentally leading my fellow Jew astray. We are responsible for being even more careful for the sake of others than we are for ourselves.

It's the same principle here. We need to really be careful about the information we are spreading and check things past reading a news site. Is it true? Is it relevant? Is it meaningful? Is the news site one I recognize? Can I find meaningful independent corroboration on another site, which is to say, if I find an article about it on a second site, is it just quoting or rephrasing this site?

Yeah, that is a lot. But that's how we keep them from using us to lead our fellows astray.

*GovTracker is an independent site. They explain their methodology in their About section.

**I cannot say enough how I am not at this time interested in going on a Jewish Side Quest About Dietary Laws on this post. Usually, I love it, but hold off this time, please, y'all. Let's stay on target this once.

[thesecondhandwoman]

Vi, Jinx, Sevika and Caitlyn (separate) with an s/o who self harms? I couldn't find any rules on your pinned page, so sorry if this violates anything!

SELF HARM CONFESSIONS

Arcane woman x f!reader

Synopsis: How arcane woman (Vi, Jinx, Caitlyn, Sevika, Ambessa, Mel, Grayson) would react when they find out that you cope with your mental struggles through self-harm and respond with different types of comfort as a result.

Request: Anon 🤍

VI

Vi had always been observant. Her years in the Lanes taught her to read people, spot dangers, and sense when something wasn’t right. That’s why, as much as you tried to hide it, she noticed.

You were seated at the kitchen table, mindlessly picking at the hem of your sleeve unconsciously while Vi leaned against the counter, arms crossed. Her brows furrowed, her red hair glowing faintly under the warm kitchen light.

“You’ve been quiet lately,” she started, her voice soft yet probing. “And don’t tell me you’re just tired, babe. Something’s up.”

You froze, keeping your eyes downcast. “I’m fine.”

“Don’t give me that,” she pushed, stepping closer. “Talk to me, sweetheart.”

Her use of the pet name chipped away at your resolve, but you stayed silent. Then her hand was on yours, her calloused fingers tugging your sleeve up. You flinched, trying to pull away, but she was faster. Her breath hitched as her eyes landed on the faint scars and fresh marks that littered your arm.

“Sweetheart,” Her voice cracked, breaking through your defenses. Tears welled in your eyes as you pulled your arm away, hiding it in your lap.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, the words tumbling out like a confession. “I didn’t know how else to—”

“Don’t,” she interrupted, her tone firm but not unkind. She crouched in front of you, placing her hands on your knees. “Don’t apologize for this. Just why didn’t you tell me?”

You bit your lip, unable to meet her gaze. “I didn’t want to be a burden.”

Vi let out a shaky laugh, one filled with disbelief and heartbreak. “A burden? Babe, you’re my whole damn world. I’d carry whatever weight you’re holding if it meant you didn’t have to feel like this.”

She wrapped her arms around you, pulling you into her chest. You sobbed against her, and she held you tighter, her fingers running through your hair.

“We’ll figure this out,” she murmured, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “You’ve got me, okay? You’re not alone, and I want you to know that.”

JINX

Jinx had been watching you closely for weeks. Her scatterbrained nature didn’t stop her from noticing the way you winced when she grabbed your arm or how you avoided her eyes when she asked if you were okay.

That night, she cornered you in her workshop. The dim lighting cast shadows across her face, her wide blue eyes boring into yours.

“Alright, spill it, toots,” she said, hands on her hips. “What’s going on with you?”

“Nothing,” you mumbled, trying to sidestep her. But Jinx wasn’t having it. She grabbed your wrist, gently but firmly, and tugged you closer.

“Liar,” she teased, though there was no humor in her voice. “You’re hiding something.”

When she rolled up your sleeve and saw the faint scars, her playful demeanor evaporated. “What… what is this?” she whispered, her voice trembling.

Tears filled your eyes as you tried to pull away. “It’s nothing. Just forget it. I told you, it’s nothing.”

“No way,” she said, her voice wavering. “It’s not nothing, sugarplum, and neither are you, because I know that you are probably thinking that right now to do this. You’re my favorite person.”

The sincerity in her voice made your tears spill over. “I’m sorry, Jinx. I didn’t mean—��

“Shh,” she cut you off, pulling you into a tight hug. “Don’t be sorry. Just promise me you’ll tell me when you’re feeling like that, okay? I’ll never judge you for something like this. We’ll figure it out together, step by step, even if they’re small.”

You nodded against her shoulder, her chaotic energy melting into a rare moment of calm as she held you, lightly rubbing your back.

CAITLYN

Caitlyn had always prided herself on her investigative skills. So when she started noticing the long sleeves you wore in the heat of summer and the distant look in your eyes, she knew something was wrong.

She confronted you one evening in the parlor, her hands folded neatly in her lap as she watched you fidget.

“Darling, is there something you’re not telling me?” she asked, her voice gentle but insistent.

You hesitated, but her sharp eyes didn’t miss the way your hands gripped your sleeves. Without a word, she reached out, brushing her fingers over your wrist.

“Please,” she said softly. “Let me in, tell me what is wrong, dear.”

The tears came unbidden as you rolled up your sleeve, revealing the scars. Caitlyn’s eyes widened, her lips parting in shock, but she didn’t pull away. Instead, she leaned closer, taking your hands in hers.

“Oh, my love,” she murmured, her voice breaking. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I didn’t want to disappoint you, and I was scared of how you might see me because of this.” you whispered.

Caitlyn shook her head vehemently, her grip tightening. “You could never disappoint me. You’re the most important person in my life. Please, let me help you.”

She pulled you into her arms, holding you like you might break. “We’ll get through this,” she promised, her voice steady. “I’m sorry you’ve felt like this for so long, my love.”

SEVIKA

Sevika wasn’t one to pry, but when she noticed the scars on your arms during a rare moment of intimacy, she couldn’t stay quiet.

“What’s this?” she asked, her voice low and measured as she traced the faint lines with her prosthetic fingers.

You tried to pull away, but her flesh hand caught your wrist. “Don’t,” she said, her tone soft yet firm. “Talk to me.”

Tears welled in your eyes as you couldn’t hold it back anymore, knowing that you were already painted red, so you confessed, your voice shaky. “It’s just… sometimes it’s too much.”

Sevika didn’t speak for a long moment, her eyes locked on yours. Then she pulled you into her lap, wrapping her arms around you protectively.

“Listen to me, doll,” she said, her voice steady. “I don’t care how messy things get—I’m here for you. Always, mk?”

She lifted her hand and lightly cupped your cheek, her expression becoming even more sympathetic as your eyes swelled with unshed tears. “I’ve been through my own rough shit and I get how it is, all tiring, always frustrating, but I promise you aren’t alone.”

You cried into her chest as she stroked your back, murmuring soft reassurances. “You’re my girl,” she said, pressing a kiss to your temple. “And I’m not letting you go through this by yourself, doll. I promise.”

AMBESSA

The sound of the door opening made your heart drop into your stomach. You hadn’t expected Ambessa to return so soon. You froze, the small blade still clutched in your trembling hand, red droplets forming at the edges of the fresh cut on your arm.

“Dove?” Ambessa’s voice echoed through the room, low and firm, tinged with the warmth she reserved only for you. You scrambled to pull your sleeve down, your movements clumsy with panic, but it was too late.

Ambessa stood in the doorway, her sharp eyes narrowing as they landed on you, taking in your pale face and the way you hastily tried to hide your arm. She stepped forward, her heavy boots thudding against the floor, and you instinctively backed up, bumping into the edge of the desk behind you.

When she saw how scared you were, skittish and small, she immediately looked confused and worried. “What were you doing?”

You stayed quiet, clenching the hem of your sleeve as you stared down. “Nothing, love, just waiting for you.”

“Let me see,” she said, her tone calm but commanding.

“No,” you stammered, clutching your arm protectively. “It’s nothing. I’m fine.”

Ambessa didn’t respond immediately. Instead, her eyes darted down to the faint stain of blood that had soaked through your sleeve. Her jaw tightened, and she exhaled sharply through her nose.

“Dove,” she said again, softer this time, her voice trembling just slightly. “Please, let me see.”

You hesitated, tears welling in your eyes as you slowly loosened your grip and allowed her to gently take your wrist. She pushed the fabric of your sleeve up with careful fingers, revealing the fresh cut alongside the faint scars of others that came before it. Her eyes moved over the marks, her expression unreadable.

For a moment, the room was silent except for your shallow breaths. Then Ambessa knelt before you, taking your hand in hers. Her usual unshakable confidence seemed to waver as she looked up at you, her golden eyes glistening.

“Why, dove?” she asked softly, her voice thick with emotion. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

You shook your head, biting your lip to stop it from trembling. “I didn’t want you to think I was weak,” you whispered, barely able to meet her gaze.

Ambessa let out a low, shaky breath and reached up to cup your cheek with her free hand. Her palm was warm, grounding against your skin. “Weak?” she repeated, almost incredulous. “You’ve survived so much, little dove. There’s nothing weak about you. But this?” She gestured gently to your arm. “This isn’t something you have to face alone, nor do because it seems like the only reliever.”

Tears spilled down your cheeks as you broke down, your shoulders shaking with sobs. Ambessa immediately pulled you into her arms, holding you close to her chest. Her embrace was firm but gentle, her chin resting on the top of your head.

“I’m sorry,” you choked out, clutching at her shirt.

“No, dove,” she murmured, pressing a kiss to your hair. “Don’t apologize. Just let me help you. I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere.”

Her words wrapped around you like a safety net, her steady presence making the weight you’d been carrying just a little easier to bear. She rocked you gently, her strong hands rubbing soothing circles on your back.

“We’ll get through this together,” she whispered, her voice as steady as her resolve. “I’ll fight every battle with you, dove. You don’t have to bleed alone.”

You nodded weakly against her chest, your tears soaking into her shirt as she continued to hold you like you were the most precious thing in the world. Because to her, you were.

MEL

Mel had a way of drawing the truth out of people, her natural elegance and empathy making it impossible to lie to her. When she first noticed the scars on your arm, a fleeting glimpse as you adjusted your sleeve, she didn’t say anything. Not right away. Instead, she observed, waiting for the right moment to approach you.

That moment came one quiet evening in her private study. You’d been sitting together in silence, the golden glow of the lamps illuminating her features as she worked on a painting.

“My love,” she began, her tone casual yet deliberate, “I’ve noticed something. Will you talk to me about it?”

You stiffened, your heart pounding. “What do you mean?”

She set her brush down, turning to face you fully. Her gaze was gentle, but it pierced through every wall you’d built. “I saw the scars, darling,” she said softly. “You don’t have to hide them from me.”

Your breath caught, and tears filled your eyes but you held them back as you stammered, “I—I don’t know what you are talking about, love.”

Mel crossed the room and knelt in front of you, taking your hands in hers. “Y/N, my love, you do know that you don’t have to hide this from me, yes? I know it may be a sensitive topic, and I get if you are not ready to fully talk about it, but I hate to see you hurt yourself.”

You stared down at her as the tears stung to far and started trailing down your cheeks, causing you to choke on a sob. “I—I just didn’t want to see how weak I am, especially if it makes me do this.”

Mel paused, looking at you with a look of disbelief and love. “Weak? My love, you are not weak for surviving through the pain in your own way. I just want you to know that you don’t have to do it alone, not anymore atleast.”

She brought your hands to her lips, kissing them tenderly. “I want to help you, however I can. You are everything to me.”

Her words broke through the dam, and you sobbed as she pulled you into her arms. “You’re safe with me,” she whispered, stroking your hair. “Always.”

GRAYSON

Grayson was the epitome of calm and collected, especially due to being an enforcer. Her steady presence made you feel safe, but it also made it hard to open up about the pain you carried. Still, she wasn’t one to ignore when someone she loved was struggling.

She first noticed when she brushed against your arm during a casual hug, her keen eyes catching the slight flinch you tried to hide. Grayson didn’t say anything then, but later that evening, right after shift as you sat together on the couch with a cup of tea, she addressed it.

“Darling,” she began, setting her tea aside. “I’ve noticed something, and I need you to be honest with me.”

You froze, your cup trembling in your hands. “What do you mean?”

Her eyes softened as she reached out, placing a hand over yours. “I saw the marks, love. You don’t have to explain if you’re not ready, but I want you to know that I’m here for you.”

Tears pricked at your eyes, and you glanced at her before looking down at your wrists. You could feel the pain rise just from looking at the area, but the reminder that it helped.

Slowly, you took a breath and whispered, “I didn’t want to worry you. You’re always so strong, and I didn’t want to bother you with this.”

Grayson’s expression shifted, a flicker of heartbreak crossing her face. She set your cup aside and pulled you into her arms, her embrace gentle yet firm.

“Oh, darling,” she murmured, her hand rubbing soothing circles on your back. “You’re never a bother to me. You’re the most important thing in my life.”

Her calm voice washed over you like a balm. “Whatever’s hurting you, I want to be here. Whether it’s listening or talking with you about other options, I couldn’t care less, as long as you know that we are doing it together.”

You sobbed against her, and she held you tighter, pressing a soft kiss to your temple. “I love you,” she whispered, her voice steady. “More than anything. And I’ll always be here for you.”

A/N: I honestly got a lot of requests for this, and I know that it might be a very sensitive topic for some people. However, for however it touches on a more personal level, I hope that you guys are okay and know that you are enough (and hoping this was able to comfort you a little).

[prisjean]

₊˚ˑ༄ؘ "MINE"

possessive! caleb x fem! reader

synopsis₍ ᐢ.ˬ.ᐢ₎˚୨୧: an au where you & caleb are farspace officers. the weekly meeting was finished... but after basically knowing caleb your whole life, you notice his mood has changed after him assuming, you paid all your attention to the lieutenant colonel (2.1k words!)

tw: MDNI +18, NSFW, rough sex, jealous sex, unprotected sex (pls use protection), caleb is possessive, dirty talk, spanking, he has you in a headlock, cumming inside

a/n ✧: caleb is releasing tomorrow and im so excited! i hope everyone who pulls him, brings him home! wanted to release this before he releases so im so sorry if this felt fast! also thank you to @tbaluver for giving me a little help with writing this!

caleb's office was always used for meetings. he would talk about the assignments he would give out and the expectations. it was only the officers of the farspace fleet that attended these meetings. caleb, the colonel, sebastian, the lieutenant colonel, and finally, you as a lieutenant.

the meeting was just about done, but caleb’s office felt heavier than usual, the air thick with something unspoken. you had barely stood up from your seat when you noticed the way he was sitting, his jaw tight, his hand grip on his pen as he started working as soon as sebastian left, eyes sharp and locked onto the report he had, trying to ease himself.

you raised an eyebrow, shifting your weight. “okay, what’s with the look?”

caleb leaned back in his chair, now looking at you. he fidgeted with the pen, clicking it slowly. “you know exactly what, pipsqueak” he said, voice low but toned with something simmering just beneath the surface.

your confusion must have shown because he let out a short, humorless laugh. “don't play dumb,” he muttered, tilting his head slightly. “saw the way you were looking at him.”

your brows furrowed. “sebastian?”

caleb’s eyes darkened, and he stood, stepping around the desk toward you. “yeah, sebastian. you couldn’t take your eyes off him.”

the realization hit, and you rolled your eyes, trying to suppress a smile. “seriously? caleb, i was just being polite. i wasn't—”

his hand caught your wrist gently but firmly, pulling you closer. “polite?” he echoed, his voice lower and raising his eyebrows. “seemed like more than that.”

you felt your heartbeat quicken as his fingers trailed slowly up your arm, his touch familiar, possessive in a way that made your skin tingle in a good way. “you’re ridiculous,” you chuckled.

caleb hummed, leaning in, his lips barely brushing your ear. “maybe,” he murmured, “but i don’t like sharing your attention.” he finally admits.

heat rolled on your cheeks as his hand slid to your waist, pulling you flush against him. the space between you disappeared in an instant with his touch being firm and full of determination. less out of anger and more out of a deep, unshakable need. you could feel the weight of his jealousy, not in harsh words or frustration, but in the way his fingers pressed into your skin, like he had to hook you to him, to remind himself that you were his and no one else's. you yearned for this touch as much as he did for yours. seeing him be so jealous over another guy that you don't think of in that way, turned you on.

"sebastian could never make you feel the way i do", he whispers. his breath hot against your ear, sending shivers down your spine.

your lips parted slightly, but before you could respond, caleb’s grip tightened at your waist, his other hand coming up to cradle the back of your neck, forcing you to look up at him. his eyes staring into yours, filled with something feral, something that made your knees weak.

“i don't even have to try,” he continued, his voice laced with an edge of arrogance, his fingers tracing a slow, delicate path down your spine. “you’re already melting for me.” and it was true, you could tell just how much wet you were getting with the way he was talking to you.

you swallowed hard, your heart racing. “caleb, someone could walk in” you whispered, your tone was weak at this point.

a smirk tugged at the corner of his lips, but his grip didn’t change. “and?” he challenged, his voice dangerously low. “you think i would let anyone else have you?"

caleb’s hand slid to your jaw, his thumb brushing over your skin as he tilted your face up to his. he closed the distance between you two.

the kiss came like a storm, powerful and unrelenting. his lips crashed against yours, swallowing any breath you had left, as if he were claiming you in every way possible. his kiss was deep, fighting with tongues and tasting you like he couldn’t get enough.

you felt every ounce of his need, every pulse of his jealousy, as he kissed you harder, almost desperately. it was so intense, the session had you leaning on his cool wooden desk, at least giving you two a little support. his hand at the back of your neck held you in place, as though he feared you'd pull away. you didn’t, though. you melted into him, kissing him back with equal desire, the heat between you rising by the second.

when he finally pulled away, both of you were left breathless, the air between you charged with an electric tension. his eyes gaze into yours, the heat still there, unmistakable, as his lips hovered just above yours.

before you could say another word, he spun you around, pressing your front against the cool, polished surface of his desk. papers scattered to the floor as he pushed you down, his body pressing firmly against yours.

“you really like teasing me, don’t you pipsqueak?” caleb’s voice was low, almost a growl, as he nibbled on your ear, sending a wave of heat through your body. he moved your hair away from the back of your neck to bite you, causing you to wince in pleasure. he took in your scent before planting hickies from behind on your neck. his hands slid down your sides, firmly gripping your hips.

you could feel him harden against you, his breath ragged as his control slipped even further. his voice dropped, dripping with frustration and desire. “you were teasing me with the way you looked at him.. ", he lowly says. "god i just want you for myself..." he groans, still inhaling your smell.

your breath hitched as his grip tightened, pulling you even closer. “i didn’t—”

“don’t,” he interrupted, his voice rough, “don’t even try to deny it.” His hands moved, trailing over your skin with an intensity that left you breathless. his body pressed hard against you. his touch was rougher as if he couldn’t wait any longer.

you bit your lip, feeling the heat between you both intensify.

“you want to know why sebastian could never?” caleb’s voice was right at your ear again. “because he doesn't know you like i do.”

your hands gripped the edge of the desk, your breathing uneven as his every touch igniting sparks under your skin.

“and i’m going to remind you exactly who you belong too.” he muttered, his voice thick with desire. he finishes his statement with a slap on your ass before groping it, leaving you in such a wet mess. at this point you knew he was teasing you just as you did with him, but you were enjoying this.

he sends another slap on your ass before lifting up your skirt and moving your panties to the side. his chest was still pressed against your back with his muscular clothed arms caging you in, then letting his leather gloved finger slide through your drooling cunt. you squirm under his touch.

"gosh.. you stare at him with those pretty eyes but you're fucking soaked for me", you sink under the whispers he tells you. "caleb... please.." you begged me. "i need you now.." you continue begging, practically pressing your ass against his clothed crotch.

“heh..so needy..” he chuckles, having a firm grip on you. “are you sure you can handle your punishment? because i won't be able to hold back,” he breathes against your ear, giving you a chill down your back. 

“yes.. please colonel caleb”, you murmur. you could already feel himself hardened under you after saying his title. 

“that’s a good girl,” he grins before letting your panties fall to ground. you eagerly wait for him as he starts to unbuckle his belt. he unzips, freeing his heavy cock. the tip was already gleaming with leaky pre-cum, begging to discipline you. he presses his cock against your erected pussy, letting your juices lube him up. he makes your body heat up when he gives your clit a few taps before probing at your entrance. you share a loud gasp as you're both intertwined now.

caleb slowly breathes to get him accustomed to your pussy clenching around him. he wanted to cum right then and there but he knew he wasn't done with you. he's been fantasizing about this many too many times and now he was sure as hell not going to waste it.

"fuck, your pussy..mm..is so tight" he breathes. he continues to pump into you. the grip on the table under your palms tighten, he knew just how to hit your pleasure points.

“mm~you think i didn’t notice the way you looked at him?”, he murmured, his voice low, dripping with restrained frustration. “ngh..it doesn't matter.." he mutters, gripping your waist tightly. "because we...both know who you really belong to, don’t we?” he groans as your pussy swells around him.

you kept moaning in replies, you loved the way he was taking his jealousy out on you but you were too into your pleasure to say anything back to him. caleb notices and wraps his muscular arm around your neck, letting your head tilt up a bit while you gasped in surprise.

"say it,” he commanded softly, his tone a dangerous mix of desire and control. “say you’re mine.” saying as he kept his pace. his eyes burned with hunger.

“mmh..i'm yours, caleb" your voice trembling with need.

a satisfied smirk tugged at his lips. “that’s right,” he murmured, the pace of his thrusts picks up. "and 'm..gonna make sure you only look at me from on," he groans as he continues fucking you, letting slaps of skin echo in the room. at this point, his balls clapped against your clit and his tip hitting your spongy g-spot at every thrust.

"ca-caleb.." you wince, "i'm..'m gonna cum!" you whine.

"mm.. that's it, cum on me, pretty girl" he smirks, his pace never faltering. with those words, you ride your orgasm out. your juices spraying on his cock and rides down your thighs, leaving your legs to tremble. "mmm..cumming on me like a slut hm? ngh..'m gonna fill your pussy up, pretty girl" he moans. after a few more trembling thrusts, he lets out a loud groan before letting his warm seed coat your walls. you both pants as he gently unwraps his arm from you and pulls out of you. your pussy drools of him down your thighs.

the air in the room was now thick, it echoed your synced breathing and smelled of the weight of everything that just happened.

"you okay?" caleb asks, his voice husky, still tinged with the remnants of desire. you can tell now his jealousy was slowly melting away. a small smile tugged at the corner of his lips as he reached up, tucking a sweaty piece of your hair behind your ear, his fingers lingering on your skin.

"yes, i'm okay" you nodded, your cheeks flush at the heat of the moment. he smiles and without another word, he bends down in front of you, his strong hands gently rolling your panties back onto you. there’s an unmistakable urgency in the way he moves, a reminder that you belong to him in a way no one else can take.

his fingers press against your skin possessively as he slides the fabric back into place, he grins as he sees you still leaking of him and when the fabric is fully adjusted, caleb straightens up, standing in front of you again. he reaches out, his thumb tracing along your lower lip as he steps closer, crowding you with his presence.

"you know, i don’t think they’ll miss the message now," caleb murmurs, his voice low and dark with intent. his hand slides to your waist, pulling you flush against him, the heat of his body making you feel every inch of his desire. "i want them to see who you belong to. i want them to know exactly who’s got you."

you shiver at the words, feeling your pulse race. his lips hover near your ear as he continues, his breath hot against your skin. "i’ll make sure you never forget that you’re mine. no one else gets to have you the way i do. understand?"

you nod, feeling a surge of heat coursing through your body at the raw possessiveness in his words. his lips press against your ear in a gentle kiss, but there’s no mistaking the tension that still lingers in his touch.

"you’re mine," he repeats, a promise and a claim all in one. "and everyone’s gonna know it."

[sxcretricciardo]

I’m back… pt.3

social media au

part two here

•

f1 BREAKING: Norris and Y/L/N are out of the race ⚠️

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username1 omg they’re gonna end up killing each other

username2 damn, but it was clearly Lando’s fault

-> username3 right?? Why didn’t he leave enough space???

username4 the fact that Y/N got out of the car and almost threw hands at Lando she’s a BADASS

-> username5 she isn’t taking shit from him, go girl 🤭

-> username6 as she SHOULD

username7 Oscar asking on the radio if she was okay before asking about his OWN teammate 👀

•

real life

The post-race chaos was a blur as you stormed into the McLaren garage, your pulse hammering in your ears. Every muscle in your body was tense, your mind replaying the sickening crunch of metal and the stomach-lurching spin off the track. The collision with Lando had been entirely avoidable, and you knew it.

Lando was sitting on a workbench, still in his race suit, sweat plastering his hair to his forehead. When he looked up and saw you, his jaw clenched. He set his water bottle down, clearly bracing himself for what was coming.

“What the hell is wrong with you, Lando?” you spat, your voice sharp enough to cut glass.

He stood, matching your intensity. “Don’t start with me, Y/N. You were just as much at fault.”

“Don’t you dare try to put this on me!” you snapped, stepping closer. “I gave you enough room! You turned in on me like you wanted to take us both out!”

His eyes flared with anger, but he didn’t respond right away, and that silence was all the confirmation you needed.

“This wasn’t just a racing incident,” you pressed, your voice shaking with fury. “That was personal. What were you thinking, huh? That you’d knock some sense into me? Scare me? Or were you just trying to hurt me because you still can’t stand the fact that I walked away from you?”

“Stop,” he said, his voice low but warning.

“No, I won’t stop!” you shouted. “You’ve been acting like this ever since I left you—since I finally decided I deserved better than someone who cheats!”

The words hung in the air between you like a live wire, and you saw the flicker of guilt cross his face before he masked it with anger.

“Don’t bring that up again,” he said tightly, his hands balling into fists at his sides.

“Why not? It’s the truth, isn’t it?” you shot back. “You ruined us, Lando. You did. And now you’re trying to ruin me on the track, too?”

He exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair. “It wasn’t like that out there.”

“Then what was it like?” you demanded, your voice shaking. “Because from where I’m standing, it looked like you were trying to prove a point.”

He hesitated, his gaze dropping to the floor. “I wasn’t trying to hurt you,” he muttered.

“Could’ve fooled me,” you said bitterly.

Lando looked up at you, his expression cracking just enough for you to see the regret underneath. “I lost my head, okay? Seeing you… seeing you so happy, like none of it even mattered—it got to me.”

You stared at him, disbelief flooding through you. “So you risked my safety—our safety—because you’re jealous? Because you can’t stand the fact that I’ve moved on?”

“Maybe I can’t,” he admitted, his voice quiet but raw. “Maybe I hate seeing you with them—watching you smile at other guys like you used to smile at me. Do you know how hard it is to see that and know it’s my fault? That I’m the one who screwed it up?”

Your breath caught, his confession hitting you like a punch to the gut. But it didn’t soften your anger. If anything, it made it worse.

“You don’t get to play the victim here, Lando,” you said coldly. “You made your choice. You cheated. And I walked away because I deserve better than someone who couldn’t even respect me.”

His shoulders sagged, the weight of your words clearly hitting him, but you weren’t done.

“And now? Now you’re letting your jealousy and regret turn into something dangerous. You could’ve ended my career out there today. Or worse.”

“I’m sorry,” he said, his voice cracking. “I didn’t mean for it to go that far.”

“Sorry isn’t enough,” you replied, stepping back. “I’ve moved on, Lando. Maybe it’s time you try to do the same.”

He didn’t say anything as you turned and walked away, leaving him standing there in the quiet of the garage. But as you stepped out into the paddock, you couldn’t shake the feeling that this wasn’t over—that whatever unresolved emotions still lingered between you would find a way to surface again.

•

yourusername not the result I wanted for this weekend… but I’ll keep pushing to get back those lost points! See you next weekend 💪🏻🫶🏻

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username1 clearly not your fault! That penalty was well given to Lando!

fernandoalo_oficial you got this chica 💪🏻

alex_albon let’s go! glad you’re not hurt

username2 get it girl!! 😍

oscarpiastri 💪🏻

username3 the next dts season is gonna be INSANE I can’t wait 🤭

•

real life

The day had been long and emotionally exhausting. After your fight with Lando, you had barely made it through the mandatory media debriefs without snapping at someone. Now, standing in the paddock under the setting sun, you were relieved that the weekend was finally over.

“Rough day, huh?” Fernando’s familiar voice broke through your thoughts.

You turned to find your teammate leaning casually against the wall, his helmet bag slung over one shoulder. Despite the chaos of the day, Fernando always seemed composed, a stark contrast to your current state.

“That’s putting it mildly,” you replied, managing a weak smile.

He nodded knowingly, then tilted his head slightly. “I heard you’re heading to the Aston Martin headquarters tomorrow?”

“Yeah,” you confirmed. “Have to go over some data with the engineers.”

“Same here,” he said, his tone casual. “Why don’t you skip the hassle of a commercial flight and ride with me? My jet’s leaving in an hour.”

The offer caught you off guard, but it also sounded like the perfect way to escape the mess of today. “Are you sure?”

“Of course,” Fernando said with a small smile. “It’ll be nice to have some company.”

An hour later, you were seated across from Fernando on his private jet, a glass of wine in hand. The plush interior and quiet hum of the engines felt like a world away from the chaos of the paddock.

“To surviving another race weekend,” Fernando said, raising his glass with a smirk.

You chuckled, clinking your glass against his. “Barely.”

As the jet cruised through the night sky, the wine kept flowing, and so did the conversation. Fernando was surprisingly easy to talk to, his sharp wit and dry humor making you laugh more than you had all weekend. You found yourself relaxing in his company, the tension from earlier slowly melting away.

But somewhere between the second and third glass, the atmosphere began to shift. His gaze lingered a little too long, and your laughs turned into soft smiles. You couldn’t ignore the way his voice dipped when he said your name, or the way his hand brushed yours when he reached for the bottle.

It was reckless, you knew that, but when he leaned closer, his dark eyes searching yours for permission, you didn’t stop him. His lips were on yours before you could think, the kiss slow and deliberate, leaving no room for doubt about what he wanted.

One thing led to another, and soon you found yourself tangled in the sheets of the jet’s private cabin. It was a blur of heated whispers, soft gasps, and the kind of passion you hadn’t felt in a long time.

Afterward, as you lay beside him, reality began to sink in. You sat up, pulling the blanket around you, your mind racing.

“This can’t happen again,” you said, your voice firm despite the lingering warmth of his touch.

Fernando propped himself up on one elbow, his expression unreadable. “I know,” he said simply.

“I mean it, Fernando,” you pressed, turning to face him. “We’re teammates. This… this could complicate everything. It was a mistake.”

He studied you for a moment, then nodded. “I get it. One time, no strings.”

His calm response surprised you. You had expected more pushback, maybe even an argument, but his easy acceptance only reinforced why you had always respected him.

“Nothing changes between us,” he added, his voice steady. “We’re still teammates. Still focused on the team. This doesn’t leave this jet.”

You exhaled in relief, appreciating his maturity. “Thank you.”

Fernando gave you a small smile, his hand brushing against yours briefly. “Get some rest. We’ve got work to do tomorrow.”

As you settled back into the seat, your thoughts swirled. You told yourself it was a one-time lapse in judgment, a fleeting moment of weakness.

•

yourusername alexa play “kill bill” by SZA 🔪

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oscarpiastri I hope you liked the cake

-> yourusername you spoil me too much, pastry🥐

-> georgerussel63 you’ve never sent me cake, I’m jealous oscarpiastri

-> yourusername come get your man carmenmmundt 😴

username1 omg Oscar sent her the cake?? What am I missing???

-> username2 RIGHT?? her dating her ex’s teammate would be an amazing revenge 😭

username3 the caption 💀

•

thatf1podcast here’s a sneak peek of our episode with the one and only Y/N Y/L/N 👀

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username1 I need all the teaaaaa 😏

yourusername it was a pleasure 🤭

username2 I NEED THIS EPISODE NOW

username3 I’m loving it 😌

•

tag list: @samantharaytanner @stressed-cherry @anamiad00msday @book-obsesseds-world @hurtblossom @tagteamedbitch @hoeforsirius @jxnellat @tillyt04 @danielshoe @tvdtw4ever @raynetargaryan2 @sadiemack9 @henna006 @wordesthatics @whosluce @mikaalvesreal @widow-cevans @honethatty12 @littlegrapejuice @bakingpiastries @ietss

- part 4 coming soon

[preiyers]

Dad!Luigi beaming with pride at you holding your daughter in the nursery. You’re so tired and feel so ugly but he says you’re the most beautiful he’s ever seen you in that moment and he thanks you for giving him Sunny😭😭😭

♱ BABYDOLL — DAD!LUIGI MANGIONE X READER

A/N: also added reader and luigi naming her in this <3

it has been 30 minutes since you gave birth to your and luigi's daughter. the nurses have placed her in a small crib inside your room while you fixed the details for her birth certificate.

you felt so tired. besides the lack of sleep, your legs were sore from keepinh them up and open, you could feel the stretch in your cervix, and your throat felt strained.

luigi saw your eyes threatening to close so he took over the papers and everything you had to deal with.

but, one important part of the birth certificate was your child’s name.

the pair of you hadn’t gotten to a decision before the birth other than the fact that you wanted her name to come from something the two of you have in common or one that has a part of you.

he was seated on the chair next to your bed, clipboard, and pen in hand as he filled up the information.

"what about ash?" he looked up at you, tapping the pen against his chin.

"babe, we are not naming our first child after a pokemon character." you stifled out a laugh despite how tired you were.

you felt your eyes about drop any second but an idea came up on your mind.

"sunny," you tell him, the sun seeping out the curtains of your hospital room. luigi's quick to get up from his seat and move the curtain.

"i know, the sun is up so early today." he responds and walks by your bed, checking if everything was set up okay before his eyes made its way to your face.

"come up here, lay with me," you told him, scooting over to give him some space to lay on.

there was a tight-lipped smile on his face as he tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear before he got on the bed and wrapped an arm around your shoulders, pulling you closer to his warm body.

"you're so beautiful," and you couldn't help but chuckle at his words, knowing you probably looked your worst today. you felt the gunk in your eyes as you blinked, your lips dry, and considering you’ve been in the hospital for almost two days now, your hair was probably oily and clumped up. "i'm serious alright"

he places his other hand on your chin and then pecks your lips. "you're always so beautiful," he pecks your cheek. "especially today, i can't even imagine how painful it was to be carrying a whole other being in your body and having to push it out as well,"

the adoration he had for you was evident in his voice. he bit his lip as he started to feel the tears well up in his eyes. "you're so strong... and i can't thank you enough for giving me our daughter."

you take his hand in yours and place a peck in the innermost of his palm.

"what's gotten into you, lu?" you tease, your voice soft and he chuckles before shaking his head and wiping the tears that have fallen.

"can't i just admire my wife?" you just smile up at him and now, he was propped up on the bed properly with an arm around you and a hand over your stomach, where your baby used to settle.

silence filled the room. it was comfortable and very much needed after the rough 48 hours the two of you had in the hospital.

his hands fiddled with the blanket as he let you rest.

"also... i meant to say sunny could be her name," you moved your head to look at him and his eyes light up.

"i mean we did meet in hawaii, the sun was always up there and we both love the beach," you trailed on and he just smiled at your words before he placed a kiss on the top of your head.

"alright, sunny mangione it is."

TAGLIST !

@fuckitiloveyouu @meikoismartha @strawbxrryaxolotyl @ilovetoomanymen @onlyangelicc @for-lovers-always @freeluigihesbae

lmk if u wanna be a part of the taglist

[saeslove]

🕸️ 013 . the silent touch

synopsis when the star football player Michael Kaiser shows up at your window injured, you tend to his wounds and uncover a deeper side to him. as secrets unfold and emotions rise, you find yourself questioning your growing feelings for him. wc 1.8k

as you skimmed through your textbook for the calculus exam you were struggling with, doubts swirled in your mind. you couldn’t shake the unease about inviting a stranger into your house. your study lamp was the only source of light in the dim room.

your thoughts were interrupted by a knock at the window.

you glanced over and saw a silhouette of a man outside. hesitant at first, you received a text “i’m here.” it was from kaiser. as soon as you opened the window, a gust of wind rushed in, followed by the sight of a shivering Michael Kaiser.

"did you really climb up a 15-story apartment? you could’ve just come through the front door."

you stepped aside, letting him in as he walked around your room, inspecting your bedroom. “nice room.”

“yeah, it’s nothing special, though.”

his gaze fell on your study table, where papers were scattered everywhere. “oh, what’s this? calculus? you’re struggling with this?” he hid a smirk behind his smile.

“hey! this is the only chapter i need help with, and my exam is soon”

as he stepped closer to the light, his face was illuminated, and for the first time today, you saw his features clearly.

“what’s that on your face?”

his eyes met yours, but before he could respond, you stepped closer, brushing your fingers over his cheek. you felt the cut and bruise.

he quickly pulled away, looking down, hiding behind his hoodie. “it’s nothing. just a cut from football.”

“no, it’s not nothing,” you insisted. “let me help you. i’ll go get it the first aid outside.”

as you carefully tended to his wounds, you couldn’t ignore how close his face was to yours. just as you were finishing up, he winced, and a rush of sympathy just hit you. this bruise seemed to cut deeper than just the surface.

“you know, normal people use the door,” you said, attempting to ease the awkward tension hanging in the air.

“yeah, but then i wouldn’t get to see that look on your face. totally worth it,” he replied with a faint grin.

you opened your mouth to respond but decided against it, letting the words hang in the silence. his eyes, however, never left yours.

“i know what you want to ask,” he said, breaking the quiet.

“what?” you asked, your voice softer than you intended.

“you want to know where i got all these bruises,” he said, his tone unreadable.

“i mean, yeah but if you don’t want to talk about it, that’s fine”

“just a rough game, tackles hit harder sometimes. it’s not a big deal.” he shrugs

“you’ve got bruises everywhere, and a broken rib the other day and i’m supposed to believe this is just soccer? what soccer have you been playing?”

he leans back slightly, smirking, “why are you so worked up over this? maybe i should get injured more often then?”

you shot him a look. “don’t even joke about that. do you think i want to keep patching you up every time you get yourself hurt?”

“i didn’t ask you to but maybe you secretly like it”

"yeah sure, i just watching you wince in pain," you teased, smacking his bicep lightly. but the way he flinched made you pause.

your brow furrowed. "wait are you hurt somewhere else?"

"no" he said quickly, but the way his hand instinctively clutched his arm betrayed him.

you shot him a pointed look, and he sighed in defeat. "fine."

slowly, he pulled off his hoodie, revealing a nasty injury on his arm. you breath hitched as you took in the sight—though it wasn’t just the wound that caught your attention.

this was your first time seeing his tattoo up close. the intricate blue rose tattoo on his arm was impossible to ignore, the way it seemed to almost bloom under the light. as you gently cleaned the wound, your fingers brushed against his skin, and your eyes lingered a second too long.

"cool, right?" his voice was softer now, almost playful.

you glanced up at him. "yeah but why a blue rose?"

he hesitated, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "honestly? i don’t really know. i got it after i started playing football. it just felt right."

there was something unspoken in his words, something that made your heart beat a little faster. but before you could press further, a loud knock echoed through the house, snapping the moment like a twig underfoot.

“oh no that’s my dad! you have to hide! and don’t leave this room”

he raised an eyebrow, clearly amused by your sudden panic. “your dad? is he one of those ‘clean my shotgun while i meet your friends type?”

you glared at him, shoving him toward your closet. “don’t test it. now go!”

“fine, fine relax schatz.” he scrambled to his feet, wincing slightly as he moved. “but if he asks, i came through the door like a normal person.” surrendering his hands in the air.

“just hide!” you hissed, practically shoving him inside. he ducked into the cramped space, grumbling under his breath about how tight it was.

the knock sounded again, louder this time. taking a deep breath, you smoothed your hair and rushed to open the door.

your dad stood there, holding a set of car keys. “hey, i left my keys at home and just wanted to let you know i’m heading out to work again. need anything when i come home?”

you forced a smile, trying to steady your heartbeat. “nope, i’m good! thanks.”

he frowned slightly, eyes narrowing as he glanced past you into your room. “are you okay? you seem... jumpy.”

“nope, not at all. actually, i was just doing yoga” you leaned casually against the doorframe, praying he wouldn’t notice the slightly ajar closet door.

“in the dark?” he asked calmly but still suspicious.

“yeah it’s just a girls thing hehe”

after a long moment, he shrugged. “alright. i’ll be back tomorrow morning, love you.”

as soon as the door closed behind him, you let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding. turning back to the closet, you yanked the door open.

“coast is clear”

he was sitting on the floor of your closet, holding one of your old basketball trophies. “didn’t know you played. pretty impressive.”

you grabbed the trophy from him, trying to hide the blush creeping up your cheeks. “just a past time hobby.”

you sat beside him despite the small space, the silence between you heavy but not unwelcome. for a moment, it was just the two of you, the closeness offering a strange sort of comfort.

“you have a nice dad,” he said softly, breaking the quiet.

“thank you,” you replied, glancing at him. “he works really hard, and i try my best to make him proud.”

he hummed in acknowledgment, leaning his head back against the wall. his gaze seemed far away, as if the room had disappeared around him. “my dad used to beat me up for every little thing i did, especially when we didn’t have any food.”

he words hit like a brick, cutting through the air with quiet devastation. your breath caught, and you turned to him, studying the way his expression stayed oddly calm, like he’d come to terms with it long ago or maybe just buried it deep.

“that’s awful i’m so sorry,” you whispered, unsure if anything you said could even begin to be enough.

je shrugged, offering a faint, bitter smile. “it was what it was. i guess some people aren’t meant to be dads.”

you hesitated, the weight of his words sinking into you. “but you turned out different. you’re not like him.”

he finally looked at you, his eyes softer now, as if your words had reached a part of him he didn’t let people see. “i try” he murmured, his voice almost inaudible.

“your calculus, let me help you with it” he whispered.

you blinked at the sudden shift in conversation, confusion written all over your face. “my calculus? are you seriously using my math homework as a distraction right now?”

“yeah as a reward for patching me up, i’ll help you. you can’t say no because i’m not leaving here until you understand derivatives.”

he sat up, and walked over to your the notes you spread out on the table.

in the past hour he has taught you, you catch yourself watching him more than your notes. the way his brows furrow in concentration, the way his voice softens when he's explaining something challenging.

"see? it’s not that hard," he says, leaning back and grinning.

shaking your head. "yeah, easy for you to say. you ace everything without trying."

"that’s not true," he counters, his tone lighter now. "i’ve got a lot going on, just like you."

you hesitate, noticing the way his grin fades slightly as he speaks. for a brief moment, his vulnerability peeks through again, and it stirs something unfamiliar in your chest.

"you know you’re not what i expected” you say without thinking.

he looks at you, curiosity flickering in his eyes. "what did you expect?"

you shrug, trying to play it off, trying to not get on his nerves “i don’t know. some overconfident star athlete who only cares about himself. but! you’re different."

he smirks, “glad to know i’m not a total cliché."

you find your heart beating faster, your mind racing with the realisation that maybe this isn’t just some casual friendship.

"why are you looking at me like that?" he asks, breaking the moment.

you blink, heat rushing to your cheeks. "looking at you like what”

he smirks, leaning closer. there it was, undenying gaze— intense, unflinching, and impossible to look away from. It was as though he could see right through you. you swallow hard, unaware of how close he is.

"maybe i should go," he says, but there’s hesitation in his voice.

and for the first time, you find yourself not wanting him to leave.

series MASTERLIST

notes from lily ❦⋆ : my fever went down so i decided to just post this, hope u enjoy & thank you for waiting!

i know kaiser didn’t really go to school but i feel like if he did then he would’ve been smart at everything…

TAGLIST

@mixolya @x3nafix @96jnie @tamashithe2nd @cookielovesbook-akie @yuiearyi @noomimi @stargirljas @jhsluvv @sof888a @livelaughloveshidou @swagkittybear @axquella @passw-0-rd @hwaassaa @bbladie @tofumiarchives @justanotherweeb666 @metaphorically-here @ravenbc @levihanmyotp @rybunnie @adrnmyknight @etherealrin @shosuki @90s-belladonna @wwastro @shr00mfairy [tell me if i missed out anyone’s name]

comments & reblogs appreciated!

@ saeslove 2025 do not plagiarize, translate, or rewrite my writings without my permission !

[secret-moonstruck]

PLEASE COMEBACK TO ME | K.SN

— Pairing: sunoo x fem!reader | (Masterlist)

— Synopsis: Y/n and Sunoo broke up because of his jealousy. But even though Y/N ​​was angry, she ended up surrendering to him.

— Genre: smut

— Warnings: unprotected sex, cum inside, making out, clit play, begging, hickeys, overstimulation.

It had been almost a month since Y/N and Sunoo broke up, all because of a stupid fight after he got jealous and ended up offending her, about how she couldn't be so stupid as to not notice that Jungwon, her ex, still liked her.

Y/N was still angry with Sunoo, so she was furious when she saw him arriving at the party he was going to have for the residents of the building and Y/N was one of those responsible for organizing the event, he knew that so he didn't miss the chance to go, he needed to apologize, but she was avoiding him.

During most of the event she managed to avoid him despite him continuing to follow her, but when one of her neighbors stopped her with the excuse of talking about her twin children that Y/N always stopped to play with, Sunoo was unable to keep her distance. he pulled her in the middle of the conversation.

- What the fuck do you think you're doing? - She screamed at him when he dragged her to a room where there were some things that would be given at the end of the party.

- You've got to be kidding me. Don't you know the nonsense he said about you out there? I don't want you anywhere near this guy again, who knows what he might do.

- What, what does it matter to you? We're done, in case you forgot. You have nothing to do with who I talk to. And he was just talking about the babies, you're so paranoid.

- The babies? Okay, you seem to really like babies. - He said sarcastically.

Y/N opened the door to leave, but he slammed the door shut again, before hugging her from behind.

- Wait…Y/N forgive me. Not just for now, but for that day too. I shouldn't have offended you like that, please forgive me.

As he spoke he kissed her neck, she tried to let go, but he continued, and she wasn't really trying, he knew very well how to provoke her, how to manipulate her, she was already melting in his arms.

When he didn't receive a response, he turned her around and kissed her, she responded and then he intensified the kiss as he guided her to the back of the room, pushing her on the table, knocking everything that was on top of her.

He moved away to take off his shirt while she did the same. Y/N pulled Sunoo back by his belt to finish taking off his clothes, who soon did the same to her. He kissed her again while her hands went straight to his penis, spreading the precum that already covered the tip, he moaned into the kiss, how he missed her.

A shiver ran throughout Y/N's body when she felt his beautiful fingers against her wetness. He broke the kiss smiling at her.

- You missed me too, there's no denying it, look how you're already dripping for me. - Sunoo said before licking his fingers. - How I missed that.

Sunoo couldn't take it anymore, he lined himself up rubbing the tip against her entrance, she twitched in anticipation when she felt it rub against her clit.

- Go soon Sunoo. - Y/N was clinging to him with her face in the crook of his neck.

- So hurried, always so desperate. - When he said that he penetrated her at once, hitting her deep.

Y/N's nails were digging into his shoulders as she felt him give strong deep thrusts, he was punishing her for depriving him of fucking her in the last few weeks.

As he quickened his pace he made Y/N straighten up, holding her face he wanted to see her expression of pleasure, he missed seeing how fragile she was when he was inside her. Taking his other hand to massage her clit making it squeeze around it before cumming, he groaning seeing her beautiful face full of tears as he continued pounding her sensitive insides, he wanted so badly to cum inside her soon but he tried to prolong it as long as he could to continue seeing her expression of despair being overstimulated. When he finally came she clenched around him it felt like he would never stop filling her with his sperm, she ended up having another orgasm as he continued his movements, he smiled before finally stopping his movements. A victorious smile that irritated her. She knew that expression, he did that when he planned something, but she didn't understand what.

While getting dressed, Y/N cursed him, but she also cursed herself, not believing that she had given in so easily.

- Don't think I've completely forgiven you, let's talk later, I need to take care of the event.

Y/N was setting up the toast table when she saw Jungwon talking to someone, she approached to say hello, after all even if it was her ex they still maintained a certain friendship.

- She's a manipulative bitch, she's cruel, no one could stand dating her. - Jungwon said to his friend.

She thought he was talking about her so she gave him a dirty look as soon as he saw her. But to her surprise he smiled when he saw her and approached her.

- Y/N, it's good to see you. - Jungwon said excitedly.

- I heard what you were saying, I hope it wasn't from me. - She scolded him.

- Of course not, you are perfect; A crazy girl has been following me. That's who I was talking about.

While they were talking, Y/N saw Sunoo staring at them, he looked upset and angry, after all Jungwon was the reason they broke up.

Soon she was called by another resident saying that they needed her, so she said goodbye to Jungwon.

Y/N would have to present a new space that they would open in the building for pregnant women and newborns.

When she finished explaining about the place and everything that would be available there, she saw Sunoo smiling at her, but ignored it. While checking if everything was ok at the tables she felt arms around her waist, it was Sunoo hugging her.

- This new space is great for future moms. If it's up to me you'll enjoy it soon, if everything went well I've already left a gift in you. 

Y/N turned around immediately, when she saw that smile on his face again she understood exactly what he meant, and the meaning of that smile earlier.

— Notes: I'm new to this writing thing, and English is not my first language. Sorry for not writing so well, I wish to improve and bring better and well-written stories

[novaursa]

A Lion's Folly (duty)

- Summary: A story where a lion falls for the eldest daughter of Lord Eddard Stark, you.

- Pairing: stark!reader/Jaime Lannister

- Rating: Mature 16+

- Previous part: the price

- Next part: the hopeful

- Tag(s): @sachaa-ff @oxymakestheworldgoround @butterflygxril @lordofthunderthr @mrsnms @itisjustwhatitis

Jaime approached Cersei’s chambers. His steps were slow, deliberate, each one a reminder of the conversation he’d been avoiding for days. Confronting his father about leaving the Kingsguard and marrying you had been difficult, but this… this was something else entirely.

He reached her door, the ornate lion carving glaring back at him like a silent judge. Taking a deep breath, he pushed it open without knocking.

Cersei was standing by the window, her hair catching the last rays of the sun as it spilled into the room. She turned at the sound of the door, her face immediately hardening when she saw him.

"Jaime," she said, her voice low and cold. "You dare to come here?"

Before he could respond, she crossed the room in three quick strides and slapped him hard across the face. The loud crack echoed in the stillness, but Jaime didn’t flinch. He stood there, his cheek stinging, as she glared up at him with eyes blazing.

"You promised me," she hissed, her voice trembling with fury. "You swore you’d always stay by my side. That nothing would come between us. And now? Now you throw it all away—for her?"

Jaime’s jaw tightened, but he remained silent, letting her words wash over him.

"For a Stark," she spat, the word dripping with venom. "For that girl you barely know, with her pretty face and her noble airs. Don’t think I didn’t see the way you’ve changed since Winterfell. Even then, you were weak for her."

"It’s not like that," Jaime said finally, his voice calm but strained. "This isn’t about her—"

"Don’t lie to me!" Cersei shouted, cutting him off. Her hands clenched into fists at her sides, her chest heaving as she struggled to contain her rage. "You think I don’t know you? You think I can’t see what’s happening? You’ve convinced yourself that there’s some… bond between you. That she’s different. Better. That you can save her, and somehow, that will make you whole again."

Jaime looked away, his lips pressing into a thin line. Cersei’s words were cruel, but they struck dangerously close to the truth.

"You’re pathetic," she continued, her voice dripping with disdain. "You think this will make Father proud? That throwing away everything we’ve built—everything we are—for her will somehow redeem you? You’re fooling yourself, Jaime."

"It’s not about redemption," Jaime said quietly, his voice steady despite the storm raging inside him. He turned to face her fully, his gaze meeting hers. "It’s about doing what’s right."

Cersei let out a sharp, bitter laugh. "Right? You? Since when do you care about what’s right? You killed the king you swore to protect. You pushed a child out of a window to protect us. Don’t pretend you’re some noble hero now, Jaime. It doesn’t suit you."

"I’m not pretending," Jaime said firmly. "I’m trying to be better. And maybe it’s too late for that, but I can’t keep living like this. I can’t keep living for you."

The silence that followed was deafening. For the first time, Cersei seemed genuinely stunned. Her eyes widened slightly, and for a moment, the anger gave way to something else—hurt, perhaps, or disbelief.

"You don’t mean that," she said softly, her voice trembling. "You can’t mean that."

Jaime exhaled slowly, his shoulders sagging as if the weight of his words had drained him. "I do," he said quietly. "Cersei… we’ve been lying to ourselves for years. This—us—it’s not what it used to be. And maybe it never was."

Her expression hardened again, her eyes narrowing as tears glistened unshed. "So, this is it?" she asked bitterly. "You’re walking away? For her?"

"This isn’t about her," Jaime said, though he wasn’t sure if that was entirely true. "This is about me. About what I want. And what I want… isn’t this."

Cersei stared at him for a long moment, her face a mask of fury and heartbreak. Then she turned away, her voice low and venomous. "Get out."

Jaime hesitated, his good hand clenching at his side. He had loved her once—had lived for her. But now, standing here, he realized that love had become something twisted, something that no longer felt like love at all.

Without another word, he turned and left, the door closing behind him with a soft click.

As he walked back through the dim corridors of the Red Keep, Jaime felt an unexpected sense of liberation. The weight that had hung over him for so long, the chains that had bound him to Cersei, seemed to loosen with every step. It wasn’t a clean break—nothing ever was—but it was a start.

Jaime Lannister felt like he was finally free.

The training yard in the Red Keep was quiet in the early morning, the sun still low in the sky. The usual bustle of squires and guards was absent, leaving the space empty save for Jaime and Bronn. The loud clang of steel against steel echoed across the yard, followed by the grunts of effort and muttered curses.

“Keep your wrist steady,” Bronn said, stepping back to observe Jaime’s stance. He twirled his own blade lazily, the smirk on his face widening as Jaime adjusted his grip on the practice sword.

“I am keeping it steady,” Jaime snapped, his tone sharper than his strikes.

“Doesn’t look like it from here,” Bronn replied, dodging Jaime’s next swing with infuriating ease. “You’re too stiff. Relax a bit, will you? Or do you want me to carve you up like one of those roasted pigs in the kitchens?”

Jaime huffed, his left arm trembling slightly from the strain of holding the sword. Every move felt wrong—awkward and unbalanced, as if his body had yet to accept that this was his only option now.

Bronn stepped closer, rapping Jaime’s blade with his own. “Again,” he ordered. “And this time, don’t hold the damn thing like it’s about to bite you.”

Jaime adjusted his grip, narrowing his eyes as he swung again. Bronn blocked effortlessly, his smirk never faltering.

“You’re improving,” Bronn said casually, sidestepping another strike. “Still terrible, but less terrible than last time.”

“Glad to know I’m meeting your high standards,” Jaime muttered, his tone dry.

Bronn grinned, lowering his blade momentarily. “So, word around the Keep is you’re leaving the Kingsguard. Trading white cloak for lordly robes, huh?”

Jaime stiffened, lowering his sword. “Let me guess—Tyrion told you.”

“He might’ve mentioned it,” Bronn admitted, his grin widening. “Said something about you giving up the sword for a girl. Didn’t think you were the type, Kingslayer.”

Jaime glared at him, raising his sword again. “Tyrion talks too much.”

“Maybe,” Bronn said with a shrug. “But he’s not wrong, is he? Leaving all that glory behind for… what, exactly? A pretty face?”

Jaime lunged, his swing harder this time, though Bronn blocked it easily.

“It’s not about that,” Jaime snapped, his irritation bleeding into his movements.

“No?” Bronn asked, dodging another strike. “So, it’s not about the Stark girl? Not about making sure she doesn’t end up flayed alive by Bolton? Because from where I’m standing, it looks like she’s got you wrapped around her finger.”

Jaime gritted his teeth, his swings growing more forceful. Bronn danced around him, letting the blows glance off his blade with practiced ease.

“Careful now,” Bronn said with a chuckle. “You’ll wear yourself out before you’ve even started. And I’d hate to see you keel over before you’ve convinced her to stop hating your guts.”

Jaime froze for a split second, his grip tightening on the hilt of his sword. “She doesn’t hate me,” he said, though the uncertainty in his voice betrayed him.

“Doesn’t she?” Bronn countered, stepping closer. “From what I hear, she’s not exactly thrilled about this whole arrangement. Can’t blame her, really. A Stark marrying a Lannister? That’s the kind of thing that makes bards weep.”

Jaime swung again, the force behind his strike making Bronn take a step back.

“And how’s Cersei taking it?” Bronn asked, his tone deliberately casual. “Bet she didn’t like hearing you’re shacking up with someone else. Especially not a Stark.”

Jaime’s jaw tightened, but he didn’t respond. He feinted left before swinging right, his strike glancing off Bronn’s blade.

“Hit a nerve, did I?” Bronn asked, grinning. “Let me guess—she slapped you, screamed a bit, told you you’d regret it. Am I close?”

Jaime lowered his sword slightly, his chest heaving from the effort. “Cersei’s reaction doesn’t matter,” he said curtly.

Bronn tilted his head, his grin fading slightly as he studied Jaime. “Doesn’t it? Funny, I’d have thought you’d care more about her opinion.”

Jaime’s silence spoke volumes, and Bronn’s smirk returned, sharper this time. “Ah,” he said, his tone laced with amusement. “It’s not Cersei you’re worried about, is it? You’re more concerned about what Y/N thinks.”

Jaime didn’t respond, his gaze hardening as he raised his sword again.

“Careful, Jaime,” Bronn said, his voice lower now, almost serious. “You keep thinking about her like that, and you’ll end up doing something stupid. Like falling in love.”

Jaime lunged again, but this time, Bronn disarmed him with a swift twist of his wrist. Jaime’s practice sword clattered to the ground, and Bronn stepped back, grinning.

“Not bad,” Bronn said, nodding approvingly. “Still need work, though. Lots of work.”

Jaime glared at him, retrieving his sword. “We’re done for today.”

“As you wish, my lord,” Bronn said with a mock bow, his grin never fading.

Jaime turned and walked away, his thoughts a whirlwind of frustration and confusion. Bronn’s words lingered in his mind, poking at something he wasn’t ready to confront.

But as much as he tried to push it aside, the truth was undeniable: you had taken up residence in his thoughts, and there was no escaping it.

The solar was warm, the golden light of the afternoon spilling through the tall windows, glinting off the polished wood and gilded ornaments that adorned Tywin Lannister’s private chambers. Jaime sat in a high-backed chair near his father’s desk, his gaze fixed on the servant kneeling before him, carefully securing the golden prosthetic Tywin had commissioned to replace his hand.

The weight of the metal was heavier than Jaime had expected, its surface smooth and cold against the sensitive skin of his stump. The fingers were articulated, though they served no practical purpose. It was a symbol, more than anything else—a statement of wealth and power, a reminder to anyone who saw it that Jaime Lannister, even diminished, was still a lion.

Tywin sat across from him, his pale green eyes watching the process with an air of detached satisfaction. He looked every inch the lord of Casterly Rock, his posture straight, his hands folded neatly on the desk in front of him.

“It suits you,” Tywin said finally, breaking the silence.

Jaime glanced down at the golden hand, flexing the wrist experimentally. “It’s flashy,” he remarked, his tone dry. “Almost garish. I suppose that’s the point.”

Tywin’s expression didn’t change. “It’s a reminder of who you are. A Lannister. Even in loss, you project strength.”

Jaime let out a faint scoff, though he didn’t argue. The servants stepped back, bowing as they left the room, leaving father and son alone.

“You’ve adjusted well,” Tywin said, his tone even but firm. “That’s good. There’s much to be done.”

Jaime raised an eyebrow, leaning back in his chair. “I assume this is the part where you outline my duties as the prodigal heir?”

Tywin ignored the sarcasm, reaching for a stack of documents on the desk. “Your position will require careful management. I expect you to oversee the transition of power at Casterly Rock. Your presence there will reinforce our authority, particularly with the unrest in the Westerlands.”

Jaime nodded slowly, though his gaze remained distant. The idea of returning to Casterly Rock, to the place he had left behind so long ago, felt strange. Foreign.

“And,” Tywin continued, “there’s the matter of the upcoming wedding.”

“Joffrey’s and Margaery’s,” Jaime said, his tone growing sharper. “Yes, I’m well aware.”

Tywin’s gaze didn’t waver. “After the wedding, there will be another announcement.”

Jaime stiffened, his jaw tightening. “The betrothal.”

“Yes,” Tywin said, his tone calm but final. “Yours and Y/N Stark’s. The timing is ideal. With all the noble houses gathered for the king’s wedding, the news of your union will send a clear message: the North may be fractured, but it is still under Lannister control.”

Jaime exhaled slowly, his golden hand resting heavily in his lap. “And what does Y/N think of this grand anoucment?”

Tywin’s lips pressed into a thin line. “Her opinion, while noted, is irrelevant. She is a Stark. Her value lies in her name, her bloodline. She will understand her role in time.”

Jaime clenched his teeth, his gaze darkening. “She’s not a pawn, Father.”

Tywin’s eyes narrowed, his voice hardening. “She is whatever I need her to be. You may have developed a misguided sense of sentimentality, but I do not share your weakness. This union is about strategy, not affection.”

The words stung more than Jaime cared to admit, but he forced himself to remain calm. “And what exactly do you intend to say to her?”

Tywin leaned back in his chair, his gaze cold and calculating. “I will speak with her personally. She needs to understand the importance of this alliance, the role she is to play. I expect you to keep your emotions in check, Jaime. This is not a negotiation.”

Jaime’s hand tightened into a fist, his golden prosthetic gleaming in the sunlight. “She’s not going to agree easily,” he said quietly.

“She doesn’t have to,” Tywin replied, his tone final.

The room fell into silence, the weight of Tywin’s words settling heavily between them. Jaime’s thoughts churned, a mixture of frustration, guilt, and an unwelcome sense of helplessness.

Finally, Tywin stood, his movements precise as he gathered the documents on his desk. “The wedding is in three days,” he said. “You will attend, you will conduct yourself with dignity, and you will ensure that this house remains united.”

Jaime nodded stiffly, rising from his chair. “Anything else, Father?”

Tywin’s gaze lingered on him for a moment before he spoke. “Yes. Remember who you are, Jaime. And what you represent.”

Jaime turned and left the room, the golden hand heavy at his side. As he walked down the corridor, his mind was a storm of conflicting emotions. He had always thought he understood his father—his cold pragmatism, his relentless pursuit of power. But now, standing on the precipice of a life he chose to save you, Jaime couldn’t help but wonder if there was still a way to claim something for himself.

And if there wasn’t, he wondered if he could live with the man he was becoming.

You sat by the window, arms crossed, staring out at the distant horizon. The door creaked open behind you, and you turned sharply, your features hardening when you saw who had entered.

Tywin Lannister, Lord of Casterly Rock, strode into the room with the air of a man who owned everything he set his eyes upon. His lion brooch gleamed against his crimson doublet, and his gaze, as sharp and cold as ever, settled on you.

"You seem comfortable," Tywin said, his tone devoid of warmth as he gestured to the sparse chamber. "I trust your accommodations are adequate."

You stood, your expression icy. "They’re a cell, no matter how you dress it up. But I doubt you came here to discuss my comfort."

Tywin inclined his head slightly, acknowledging your sharpness without reacting to it. "Indeed, I did not. I came to speak to you about the future."

You crossed your arms, refusing to be intimidated. "Jaime already informed me of your so-called plans for my future. My answer hasn’t changed. I’d rather die than marry him."

Tywin didn’t flinch, his face as impassive as stone. He stepped closer, clasping his hands behind his back. "You may find that choice taken out of your hands, Lady Stark. This union is not about your personal desires. It is about strategy, stability, and the survival of your family’s name."

"My family’s name?" you scoffed, anger flaring in your voice. "You destroyed my family! You orchestrated the death of my father, you allowed the Boltons to betray my brother, and now you dare to speak of my family’s survival?"

Tywin’s gaze didn’t waver, his voice calm and measured. "The war destroyed your family, not I. I merely ensured that House Lannister would emerge stronger from the ashes. And now, I am offering you a chance to secure what remains of your legacy."

"My legacy doesn’t need securing by you," you snapped. "And certainly not through marriage to Jaime Lannister. He may have convinced himself he’s doing this to protect me, but I see the truth. This is about your power, your games. I won’t be your tool."

Tywin’s lips pressed into a thin line, his expression growing colder. "You misunderstand, my lady. This is not a negotiation. Your marriage to Jaime is a necessity, and it will happen. Your consent, while preferable, is not required."

You clenched your fists, your chest heaving with frustration. "You’re no better than Bolton," you said, your voice trembling with anger. "You speak of honor and stability, but all you care about is control. You think you can break me the way you’ve broken others, but you won’t."

Tywin stepped closer, his towering presence filling the room. "This is not about breaking you, Lady Stark. It is about ensuring your survival. You may not see it now, but this marriage is the best option for you. For your sister. For whatever remnants of your house remain."

"I don’t want your protection," you spat.

"That much is clear," Tywin said evenly. "But your wants are irrelevant. You are a Stark of Winterfell, and your name carries weight—weight that must be used wisely. Refusing this union would be foolish. And I do not tolerate foolishness."

You turned away, your shoulders trembling as you fought to keep your composure. The room felt suffocating, the walls pressing in as Tywin’s words loomed over you like a shadow.

"I won’t forgive this," you said finally, your voice low but firm. "Not you. Not Jaime. Not any of you."

Tywin inclined his head slightly, as if acknowledging a fact that held no consequence to him. "Forgiveness is not required," he said. "Only compliance."

The room fell into a heavy silence as his words lingered in the air. Tywin stepped back toward the door, pausing briefly before he left.

"You have three days to prepare yourself," he said. "After the king’s wedding, your betrothal will be announced. I suggest you consider your position carefully. Good day, Lady Stark."

The door closed behind him with a soft click, leaving you alone in the quiet, your chest burning with a mixture of fury and helplessness.

Three days.

You stared at the window again, the world beyond seeming farther away than ever. But despite the storm raging inside you, one thought burned brighter than the rest.

You would find a way out of this. No matter the cost.

The midday sun poured through the windows of your chambers the next day. You sat by the window, staring out at the distant horizon, your thoughts a swirling storm of anger and despair. The faint sound of footsteps approached, and you stiffened as the door creaked open behind you.

Turning your head slightly, you weren’t surprised to see Jaime standing there, his golden hand catching the sunlight and gleaming like a trophy. He leaned against the doorframe, his expression unreadable.

“Lady Stark,” he greeted, his tone light but cautious. “I come bearing news.”

“I can’t wait to hear it,” you said flatly, turning your gaze back to the window.

Jaime stepped further into the room, his boots clicking softly against the stone floor. “It seems my father has granted you some leniency. You’re allowed to leave your chambers.”

You looked at him sharply, suspicion flickering in your eyes. “Under what conditions?”

Jaime smirked faintly, though it didn’t reach his eyes. “An escort, of course. You didn’t think Tywin would simply let you wander the Red Keep freely, did you?”

“I suppose I didn’t,” you replied, your voice tight. “And I assume you’ve graciously volunteered to be my shadow.”

“Graciously, no,” Jaime admitted. “But I thought you might appreciate some fresh air. The gardens are quiet this time of day, and we could... talk.”

You narrowed your eyes at him, your suspicion deepening. “Talk? About what, exactly? My upcoming forced marriage? Or perhaps you’d like to reminisce about Winterfell and the time you pushed my brother from a tower?”

Jaime flinched slightly, the smirk falling from his face. “I deserve that,” he said quietly. “But I thought you might prefer to have this conversation somewhere other than here. Unless, of course, you’d rather stay cooped up in this charming little cell.”

You glared at him, the temptation to refuse clear in your expression. But the thought of stepping outside, even briefly, was too enticing to ignore. With a sharp exhale, you stood, brushing past him without a word.

Jaime followed you into the corridor, his steps measured and deliberate. The silence stretched between you as you walked, the distant hum of activity in the Red Keep filling the void. Finally, Jaime broke the silence.

“You’ve been here for days,” he said, his tone softer now. “I thought you’d want the chance to breathe.”

You shot him a sidelong glance, your lips pressing into a thin line. “And I’m sure your father approved of this... gesture.”

“Not exactly,” Jaime admitted, his smirk returning faintly. “But he didn’t object, which is as close to approval as Tywin Lannister gets.”

You didn’t respond, your gaze fixed ahead as you descended a flight of stairs. Jaime studied you from the corner of his eye, noting the tension in your posture, the way your hands clenched at your sides. He wanted to say something, to ease the burden he could see weighing on you, but every word he thought of felt inadequate.

As you neared the doors leading to the gardens, Jaime hesitated briefly before speaking again. “Y/N,” he said quietly, his voice carrying a note of sincerity that caught you off guard.

You stopped, turning to face him, your expression guarded. “What?”

Jaime met your gaze, his own softened by something you couldn’t quite place. “I know you don’t trust me,” he said, his tone steady. “And I don’t blame you. But for what it’s worth, I meant what I said. I’ll do everything I can to protect you.”

Your eyes narrowed, your voice sharp. “Protect me? From what? From your family? From the man you’re forcing me to marry? Oh, wait, that’s you.”

Jaime winced, the barb hitting its mark. “I know,” he said quietly. “And I don’t expect you to forgive me. But... I’m trying, Y/N. For whatever that’s worth.”

You stared at him for a moment, searching his face for any sign of deception. But all you saw was a man weighed down by guilt and something that almost resembled regret.

Without a word, you turned and continued walking, leaving Jaime to follow in silence.

The gardens were a riot of color, their vibrant blooms softened by the afternoon light. The air was thick with the scent of roses, lavender, and freshly turned earth. You walked a few paces ahead of Jaime, your shoulders stiff and your hands clenched tightly at your sides. The gravel path crunched underfoot, and the faint chirping of birds filled the silence between you.

Jaime, keeping pace just behind you, broke the quiet. “It’s strange,” he said, his voice softer than you were used to.

You glanced at him over your shoulder, your expression guarded. “What’s strange?”

He gestured vaguely to the gardens around him. “Walking through here without a duty hanging over my head. No orders to follow, no kings to protect.” He paused, flexing his golden hand absently. “I can’t remember the last time I walked through these gardens simply… to walk.”

You raised an eyebrow, your tone sharp. “Am I supposed to feel sorry for you, Jaime? That your life as a Kingslayer and Lannister golden boy hasn’t been a constant stroll through roses?”

Jaime stopped, a wry smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “No,” he admitted. “I don’t expect your sympathy. I just… thought I’d share.”

Your eyes narrowed, but you turned back to the path, continuing onward. “Well, don’t,” you said curtly.

Jaime followed, the faintest chuckle escaping him. “You have a sharp tongue, Y/N. I think it might be sharper than your brother’s sword.”

“That sharpness has served me well,” you replied coolly. “Especially when dealing with Lannisters.”

The hostility between you eased slightly as you walked further, the path winding through rose-laden trellises and carefully pruned hedges. But the moment was short-lived. As you turned a corner, your gaze landed on a small group gathered around a table beneath a shaded pavilion.

At the center of the group was Lady Olenna Tyrell, her distinctive headdress unmistakable, flanked by Margaery and Sansa. Servants flitted around them, pouring wine and arranging plates of fruit and sweets. Several of Margaery’s ladies-in-waiting sat nearby, chatting and laughing softly.

It was Sansa who saw you first. Her face lit up, her blue eyes wide with surprise and joy. She pushed her chair back abruptly, nearly knocking over a goblet in her haste. “Y/N!” she exclaimed, her voice carrying across the garden.

Lady Olenna’s keen eyes flicked toward you, her lips curling into a faintly amused smile. “Well, well,” she said, her voice dry but not unkind. “It seems we have unexpected visitors. Come closer, dear, and bring Ser Jaime with you. Don’t linger in the shadows like conspirators.”

You hesitated, glancing at Jaime, who looked equally uncertain. He raised an eyebrow, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. “Well, it seems we’ve been summoned,” he said lightly.

You sighed, bracing yourself as you stepped forward. Jaime followed close behind.

As you approached, Sansa moved toward you, her hands reaching out to clasp yours. “Y/N,” she said again, her voice trembling slightly. “I didn’t know you were allowed out of your chambers.”

“Only under escort,” you replied, your tone clipped as you glanced at Jaime.

Lady Olenna watched the exchange with obvious interest, her shrewd gaze flicking between you and Jaime. “Quite the escort,” she remarked, her tone laced with dry amusement. “Ser Jaime, it’s rare to see you outside the Red Keep without your sister at your side.”

Jaime inclined his head slightly, his smirk faint. “A pleasure to see you as always, Lady Olenna.”

“Is it?” Olenna replied, her tone cutting but not cruel. “I suppose even Lannisters can appreciate good company now and then.” She turned her gaze back to you, her expression softening slightly. “And you, my dear. You look well for someone who’s been hidden away like a prized relic. Sit. Both of you.”

You hesitated, but Sansa’s pleading expression was enough to sway you. Reluctantly, you took a seat beside her, Jaime settling into a chair opposite you.

Margaery offered you a warm smile, her hands folded neatly in her lap. “It’s wonderful to see you, Y/N,” she said graciously. “Sansa has spoken of you often.”

You returned her smile with a faint nod, though your focus remained on Sansa. “Are you well?” you asked her quietly.

Sansa nodded, her voice soft. “I am, for now.”

Jaime remained quiet, his gaze flicking between you and the Tyrells as the conversation continued. Despite the tension that lingered in the air, he found himself strangely at ease.

The servants poured more wine into the goblets on the table as you settled into your seat, the scent of fresh roses mingling with the sweetness of ripe fruit arranged artfully on silver platters. Lady Olenna studied you and Jaime, her lips quirking in faint amusement as Margaery leaned in to speak with you and Sansa.

“You’re fortunate to be out of those dreary chambers, Y/N,” Margaery said warmly, her hands folded gracefully in her lap. “The Red Keep can feel so suffocating, don’t you think?”

You nodded slightly, your tone clipped. “More like a gilded cage. I wouldn’t call it fortunate.”

Margaery’s smile faltered slightly, but Lady Olenna’s laugh cut through the air. “Spoken like a true Stark,” she said. “Blunt as a hammer and just as subtle.”

Jaime smirked faintly, leaning back in his chair. “She’s certainly mastered the art of subtlety. Why use a knife when a sledgehammer will do?”

You shot him a glare, your fingers curling around the stem of your goblet. “And why speak at all when silence is an option, Ser Jaime?”

Lady Olenna chuckled, her gaze darting between the two of you. “Oh, this is delightful. I can see why you’re escorting her, Jaime. It’s not every day you find someone who can keep up with your wit.”

Jaime tilted his head, his golden hand resting lightly on the table. “I’d say it’s more a matter of survival than wit. She’s had plenty of practice hating Lannisters.”

“And for good reason,” you snapped. “It seems you lot make it your life’s work to ruin everything you touch.”

Jaime’s smirk faltered, and for a moment, his gaze softened. “Not everything,” he said quietly.

Lady Olenna raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued by the exchange. “I must say, the two of you make quite the spectacle. It’s been some time since I’ve seen a proper sparring match outside a tournament.”

Margaery glanced at her grandmother, a faint smile tugging at her lips. “Perhaps we should give them swords, Grandmother. It might make things more interesting.”

Jaime chuckled lightly, his eyes flicking to Margaery. “That wouldn’t be fair to Y/N. I’d hate to embarrass her.”

You rolled your eyes, unable to resist the bait. “Embarrass me? I’ve seen your swordsmanship, Ser Jaime. Perhaps you should focus on keeping that golden hand attached before you worry about embarrassing anyone else.”

Sansa stifled a giggle beside you, her expression brightening at the familiar bickering. “You haven’t changed at all, Y/N,” she said softly, a touch of relief in her voice.

Jaime’s smirk returned, his eyes glinting with amusement. “And here I thought we were making progress.”

“Progress?” you scoffed, setting your goblet down with a clink. “You mistake tolerance for progress. The only reason I’m sitting here is because your father hasn’t given me much choice.”

Lady Olenna leaned forward slightly, her sharp eyes glinting with mischief. “Ah, Tywin. Always so practical. But tell me, Y/N, how do you find his golden son? Has he been insufferable as ever?”

You met Olenna’s gaze with a faint smile, your tone dry. “If anything, he’s more insufferable now. The golden hand’s only made his ego worse.”

Jaime placed his hand over his chest in mock offense. “You wound me, my lady. And here I thought we were bonding.”

“Bonding?” you repeated, raising an eyebrow. “Is that what you call this?”

Lady Olenna chuckled, her laughter cutting through the tension like a knife. “Oh, I do enjoy you, Y/N. You’re exactly the sort of entertainment this dull court needs. If only we could bottle your wit and sell it to the Tyrells.”

Margaery smiled, though her gaze lingered on Jaime for a moment. “And you, Ser Jaime? How do you find Lady Stark? She seems to have quite the talent for keeping you on your toes.”

Jaime hesitated, his smirk softening as his gaze flicked toward you. “She’s… spirited,” he said finally. “A rare trait in the Red Keep.”

You narrowed your eyes at him, unsure whether to take the comment as a compliment or an insult. Before you could respond, Lady Olenna clapped her hands together, a mischievous glint in her eyes.

“Well, I must say, this has been thoroughly entertaining,” she said. “But don’t let us keep you from your walk, Jaime. Do try to keep her out of trouble, won’t you?”

Jaime rose from his chair, offering a faint bow. “I’ll do my best, Lady Olenna. Though I make no promises.”

As you stood to follow him, Sansa reached out to squeeze your hand, her eyes shining with unspoken gratitude. You offered her a faint smile before turning to leave, Jaime falling into step beside you as you exited the pavilion.

The faint sound of Olenna’s laughter followed you down the path, her sharp wit lingering in the air like a pleasant sting. For the first time in days, you felt a flicker of warmth, even if it was fleeting.

Jaime walked in silence beside you, his smirk faint but genuine. Despite yourself, you couldn’t help but feel that something between you had shifted, though you couldn’t quite name what it was.

[andy-15-07]

Aahh i saw you were accepting requests! And I was wondering if you could write Joel Miller just being smitten with fem reader and is constantly admiring her and everything she does

The Way You Move

Pairing: Joel Miller x female reader

Word Count: 1625 | Requests are open! (send requests, I will gladly answer them all)

Pedro Pascal Masterlist

The crackle of a campfire was one of the few sounds filling the quiet evening, accompanied by the distant rustling of leaves in the breeze. Joel Miller sat on a log near the fire, eyes fixed on Y/N as she carefully unpacked her bag. Her hands moved with deliberate precision, pulling out supplies and setting them aside.

He wasn’t even aware he was staring until Ellie’s voice cut through his thoughts.

“Uh, Joel? You’ve been looking at her like she’s the last piece of cake at dinner.”

He shot her a glare, though his cheeks turned a subtle shade of pink. “Mind your own business, Ellie.”

“I’m just saying.” Ellie smirked, leaning back against her pack. “It’s kinda obvious.”

Joel’s gaze flickered back to Y/N. She was now humming softly to herself, the melody faint but soothing. The light of the fire played across her face, highlighting her features in a way that made Joel’s chest tighten. There was something about her presence that had always drawn him in—a quiet strength, a warmth that was rare in the world they lived in.

“You need help with that?” he asked, breaking the silence. His voice came out gruffer than he intended.

Y/N glanced up, a small smile tugging at her lips. “I’ve got it, but thanks.”

She always had it. That was the thing about her. Y/N had a way of handling things, of taking care of herself and others, that left Joel in awe. Yet, he couldn’t help but want to ease her load, even if just a little.

Ellie rolled her eyes. “You’re hopeless.”

“Go to sleep, kid,” Joel muttered, his focus still on Y/N.

The next morning, the group prepared to move on. Joel found himself walking a few paces behind Y/N, his eyes tracing the way she moved. There was an ease to her stride, even with the weight of her pack. She carried herself like someone who had seen the worst of the world but refused to let it break her.

“You’re quiet today,” Y/N said, glancing over her shoulder at him.

“Just keepin’ watch,” Joel replied, though he knew it wasn’t the whole truth.

She arched a brow, a teasing glint in her eyes. “You sure you’re not daydreaming?”

He huffed, looking away to hide the way her comment made his heart skip. “Don’t flatter yourself.”

Y/N laughed, a sound that made the corners of Joel’s mouth twitch upward. It wasn’t often he heard genuine laughter anymore, and he couldn’t help but soak it in.

Later that day, they stopped by a river to rest and refill their water bottles. Y/N knelt by the edge, her reflection rippling in the water as she leaned closer. Joel’s eyes lingered on her, taking in the curve of her jaw, the way her hair framed her face. He shook his head, trying to pull himself together.

“You’re doin’ it again,” Ellie whispered, sidling up beside him.

“Doin’ what?”

“Staring at her like she hung the moon.” Ellie grinned. “You should just tell her, you know.”

Joel’s jaw tightened. “Ain’t that simple.”

“Why not?” Ellie pressed. “It’s not like she’s gonna laugh in your face. She likes you too, you know.”

Joel’s eyes snapped to Ellie, his heart skipping. “What makes you think that?”

Ellie shrugged, looking smug. “I’ve got eyes. And ears. She talks about you when you’re not around.”

Before Joel could respond, Y/N called out. “Joel, can you give me a hand?”

He was by her side in an instant, ignoring Ellie’s knowing smirk. “What do you need?”

Y/N held out a canteen. “Can you check the filter? I think it’s clogged.”

As he worked on the canteen, Y/N watched him, her expression soft. “You’re good at this,” she said.

“At what?”

“Taking care of people.”

Joel’s hands stilled for a moment. He glanced up, meeting her gaze. “Don’t know about that.”

“I do,” she said firmly.

For a moment, the world seemed to fade away. Joel felt like he could drown in the warmth of her eyes, in the quiet assurance of her words. He wanted to tell her how much she meant to him, how much he admired her strength and kindness, but the words caught in his throat.

Instead, he handed the canteen back to her. “There. Should be good now.”

“Thanks, Joel,” she said, her fingers brushing against his as she took it. The brief contact sent a jolt through him, and he had to remind himself to breathe.

That night, as they set up camp, Joel found himself sitting beside Y/N by the fire. Ellie had already gone to bed, leaving the two of them alone. The silence was comfortable, the kind that didn’t need to be filled.

“You ever think about what life would be like if things were different?” Y/N asked, her voice quiet.

Joel glanced at her, surprised by the question. “All the time.”

She nodded, staring into the flames. “Sometimes I think about the little things. Like going to a diner for breakfast or going to the movies.”

“What’d you watch?” he asked, curious.

She smiled. “Anything, really. I just liked the escape.”

Joel’s heart ached at the wistfulness in her tone. He wanted to give her those little things, to make her smile the way she deserved.

“If things were different,” he said slowly, “I think I’d…” He trailed off, unsure if he could say it.

Y/N turned to him, her expression open and encouraging. “What?”

He hesitated, then took a deep breath. “I think I’d want to take you to one of those diners. Maybe get you somethin’ sweet. You’d probably like that.”

Her smile widened, and for a moment, the world didn’t feel so broken. “I’d like that too, Joel.”

The next morning, they packed up camp and began their trek through the dense woods. Joel kept close to Y/N, his protective instincts on high as the foliage grew thicker. His eyes darted around, scanning for any sign of danger, but his thoughts kept drifting back to their conversation by the fire.

“Joel,” Y/N said softly, pulling him from his thoughts. She had stopped walking and was looking up at him, her expression unreadable. “Can we talk?”

His stomach flipped, but he nodded. “‘Course.”

She glanced back at Ellie, who was a few yards ahead and out of earshot, before stepping closer to Joel. “I just wanted to say… thank you.”

“For what?” he asked, genuinely puzzled.

“For being you,” she said, her voice steady. “For always looking out for us. For looking out for me. It means more than I can say.”

Joel’s throat tightened. He wanted to tell her she didn’t need to thank him, that he’d do it a thousand times over without question, but the words wouldn’t come. Instead, he reached out, his hand hovering uncertainly before resting gently on her shoulder.

“You don’t have to thank me, Y/N,” he said, his voice rough with emotion. “I… I’d do anything for you.”

Her eyes softened, and she placed her hand over his. “I know, Joel. And I hope you know I’d do the same for you.”

For a moment, they stood there, the world around them fading into the background. Joel’s heart pounded in his chest, and he knew, deep down, that he couldn’t keep holding back. Not anymore.

“Y/N,” he began, his voice barely above a whisper. “I… I care about you. More than I probably should.”

Her breath hitched, but she didn’t look away. “Joel…”

Before she could say more, Ellie’s voice rang out. “Hey! You two coming, or what?”

Joel and Y/N exchanged a look, a mixture of amusement and frustration passing between them.

“We’re coming,” Joel called back, his hand lingering on Y/N’s shoulder for a moment longer before he reluctantly let go.

As they started walking again, Y/N leaned closer to him, her voice low. “We’ll finish that conversation later.”

Joel’s lips twitched into a small smile. “I’ll hold you to that.”

And for the first time in a long while, he felt a glimmer of hope.

By mid-afternoon, the group reached an abandoned cabin nestled in a grove of trees. It was small but sturdy, with enough room for them to rest safely for the night. Joel inspected the perimeter while Y/N and Ellie worked on clearing the inside.

“Think this place is safe?” Ellie asked as Joel re-entered, brushing dirt from his hands.

“Safe enough,” Joel replied. “We’ll keep watch in shifts, just to be sure.”

Y/N nodded. “I’ll take the first shift.”

Joel frowned. “You’ve been on your feet all day. I’ll take it.”

She crossed her arms, a playful glint in her eye. “Are you always this stubborn?”

“When it comes to you?” he admitted, his voice low. “Yeah.”

Her expression softened, and she reached out to touch his arm. “Joel, you don’t have to carry everything on your own. Let me help.”

He looked at her, his defenses crumbling. “Alright,” he said reluctantly. “But wake me if there’s the slightest problem.”

“Deal,” she said with a smile.

As the sun dipped below the horizon and the first stars appeared, Joel sat by the window, pretending to read a map while stealing glances at Y/N. She was perched near the door, her posture relaxed but alert. The firelight danced across her face, and Joel felt that familiar ache in his chest.

“You should get some rest,” she said without looking at him.

“I’m fine,” he replied gruffly.

“Joel,” she said, turning to meet his gaze. “I’ll wake you if anything happens. Promise.”

He hesitated, then nodded. “Alright. Goodnight, Y/N.”

“Goodnight, Joel.”

As he lay down, Joel couldn’t shake the feeling that, for the first time in a long while, things were beginning to fall into place.

[no-144444]

soft launching (hard) -d.riccardo

summary: you and daniel decide it's time the world know about you

pairing: daniel riccardo x fem! illman! mechanic! reader

(for context, kym illman is an f1 photographer from australia)

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Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. 

You were livid. You wanted to scream, to sob, to shout, everything. It wasn’t fair. You were exhausted, hours and hours of practice, hours and hours of expertise, and yet, Daniel had just crashed the car into the wall. You were usually quite good at turning off the ‘mechanic’ side of you to turn into the ‘girlfriend’ but it was hard today. You’d worked overnight. You’d worked until you were practically falling asleep at the side of the car. 

And he crashed it. Again. 

You knew it wasn’t his fault.

It wasn’t his fault. 

You kept repeating that in your head. The looks on the faces of the other mechanics were… unwelcoming to say the least. You didn’t want Daniel to see them, or you. You walked on, ready to hide in the bathroom until Daniel got into his room. 

Then he saw you. Daniel had a certain way he liked to calm down after races. Shower, relax in bed for an hour with you, then back to the hotel for some food. 

You couldn’t do it. You knew you’d blow up on him. You knew you’d freak out. 

“Baby-” he started, running up to you and wrapping his arms around you. “I’m sorry.”

Your heart stopped. ‘Mechanic’ you, was gone. Replaced whole-heartedly by the need to comfort him and make sure he was alright. Yes, you still felt bad for the other mechanics and yourself, thinking about how you’d have to put it all back together in Milton Keynes. But Daniel needed you. 

“It’s alright,” you whispered, holding him close. “You’re alright baby.”

He nodded, his eyes wet with tears. He knew if he’d talk he’d break. 

“Does it hurt anywhere?” you asked, pulling him into his driver’s room. He shook his head. “Did you get checked out?”

He nodded. You sat him down on the bed. 

“It’s alright darling,” you whispered. “It’s Lance’s fucking fault anyway-”

“I don’t want to lose you if I lose this,” he responded bluntly, his hazel eyes filled with tears. “I know I can be better, I just… it feels like a classic case of old dog, new tricks, and I just can’t get the hang of it. If I could just get one shot at the RedBull seat, I know I could do it. I just… it feels like shit battling it out at the back for one point. I used to stand at the top of podiums, and now I’m… this,” he sighed, discouraged. 

“You won’t lose me,” you assured him, running your hands through his hair and he leaned his head against your stomach. He loved sitting like this, his head on your stomach as you stood in front of him. “I’m not going to let you go, don’t ever worry about that.” 

“I do,” he admitted. 

“Then talk to me about it,” you told him, pulling his chin up so he had to look at you. “I am here for you no matter what. Always and forever, Dan.”

“You swear?” he asked. 

"I swear."

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ You were there when he got the call. He sobbed for hours. You were both there, just laying in your bed, holding him as he cried. For the first week, it was rough. He barely got up. You helped him. You made him food, made him get up and walk, made him shower. He was grateful to have you there, because he didn’t know what he would’ve done without you. He probably would’ve sulked for months. But you, you brought him out, brought him home, brought him to see Josh and Hailee. You even bought him a hat (his new favourite) that says ‘retired!’. You made him happy again. Yes, there were still down days, and yes, he still looked at his trophies longingly. But he had other things in mind too. He wondered a lot about how you’d look in a wedding dress, or how you’d both look with a baby in your arms. He was finally thinking about the future for once, and he felt like slowing down, for the first time in his life, was just as exciting as going fast.

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ

Being in F1 when Danny wasn't was hard. He was your boyfriend, and it meant you didn't get to see him all the time anymore. You still adored your job, so you weren't going to quit, just... step back a bit. The season came to an end, you were 7th in the constructors, and off you went skiing with half the grid.

The funny thing about the fact that you were a mechanic, was the fact that your father was one of the main photographers in F1. You'd picked up that skill from him, and you usually jsut took photos of your friends, but to cut costs RedBull had asked you to be their on-track photographer as well, and you'd gained quite the reputation.

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ

ynillman

liked by pierregasly, jackdoohan, landonorris and 4,987,736 others

ynillman: 2024 is over and done with! I cannot wait to have a regular sleep schedule for three months!

comments

kymillman legendary photos this year! see you at christmas, and enjoy skiing! liked by yourusername

landonorris PLZZ LET US BORROW YOU NEXT YEAR -> ynillman maybe... but even I can't make papaya look good 🤷

lancestroll time to hit the slopes! -> ynillman bro i broke my fucking arm last time wtf -> lancestroll let's hope you break both of them this time! maybe then you won't capture another video of me falling!

oscrapiastri thank u for your service, lily is very happy with our couples photos! -> ynillman anything for lily! so happy for the two of you! -> user89 did we miss something...? ->user829: oscar did say he'd rather get married than get a tattoo...

user88: when's the next yt video queen??? -> ynillman tomorrow!

nicohulkenberg amazing work this year!

olliebearman thanks for the great photos this year!

jackdoohan thank you for making me not chop all my hair off again! (oh, and the photos were cool as well ig) liked by ynillman

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ynillman

liked by pierregasy, charlesleclerc, danielriccardo, and 8,098,364 others

ynillman didn't break an arm this year, only my ego!

comments

user8 lance serving boyfriend in this so hard

user99 hear me out, lance and y/n... -> user7 yes officer, it's this one -> user882 me when i'm clinically insane -> lancestroll prolly not.... -> ynillman please guys I have some standards

oscarpiastri i swear i was so surprised you didn't kill yourself

landonorris you're genuinely a danger to society on a snowboard -> ynillman because of my skills? -> landonorris because you can't fucking use one. I have the bruises to prove it

user83 lando, lance, oscar, and y/n????? what the fuck is this multiverse of madness

user0 still serving with the photos OMG QUEEN

estebanocon remind me to never go skiing with you again -> user82 estie bestie!!!!!!

mickschumacher who tf let her out of her cage? -> jackdoohan you did. you gave her the vodka.

user9: jack, mick, esteban, lance, lando, oscar, and yn? who else??? -> charlesleclerc i was there too -> alexalbon same -> carlosainz same -> francocolapinto me too! -> danielriccardo same... -> user9: and all of their wags were there too! what a cool friend group!

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lilymunihe

liked by alexalbon, ynillman, alexandrastmleux and 890,876 others

lilymunihe guess who took these photos? @.ynillman

comments

landonorris that's actually a normal sized bear in Alex's hands -> alexalbon so you're calling me tall? thanks??? -> landonorris fuck no, i meant a regular sized teddy bear

read more...

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ynillman

liked by robertirwin, pierregasly, francocolapinto and 9,987,625 others

ynillman new video out with robbie! (my sleep schedule is still fucked someone save me) (i love australia(ns))

comments

danielriccardo what a group of legends -> ynillman aka you're jealous i didn't invite you? -> user8239 y/ndaniel CRUMBS !!!!!

read more...

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danielriccardo

liked by ynillman, francocolapinto, fernandoalonso and 987,253 others

danielriccardo she's looking beautiful these days. missed home :)

comments

user8240 yall know who else is in australia this week... -> user247 i am picking up what you're putting down... delusion!

read more...

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danielriccardo

caption: you think she likes the bay?

dms

landornorris SOFT LAUNCH?

oscarpiastri taking the soft launch approach?

alexalbon BOO HARD LAUNCH YOU'VE BEEN TOGETHER FOREVER

lewishamilton mate if you don't hard launch her i'll do it wtf is this bullshit

yukistunoda bro... try harder.

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ

Daniel had decided something, which was almost always a dangerous idea. It was the off-season, you were in Australia to see the sights, see family, and catch some waves. He'd made his mind up about something days ago, and you'd been trying to figure out what, but he wouldn't budge. He was secretive and giddy, and slightly more childish than usual, so naturally, you started to panic.

That all changed when he brought you down to the beach. There were candles set up everywhere, he was smiling, and you were crying already.

"Y/n, you have made me the happiest man in the past four years," he smiled, despite the way his voice cracked with emotion. "You've been with me through everything. You've held me on the nights I've been my weakest, and championed me on the days I've been my best. I never asked you to love me, but you do it like it's breathing. You make the ups and downs feel like goosebumps on my arm, instead of mountainous waves. You make me smile. You make me laugh. You make me feel so fucking stupid when you start explaining something to do with engineering, and I realise I couldn't do that. The way you dedicate yourself to things is incredible. The way you treat others with kindness and respect even when they don't deserve it, is commendable. I love you with every bone, every nerve, and every cell in my body. I love everything about you, inside and out. I can't wait to get to sit in a front porch someday when we're old and wrinkly, and still get to tell people that you're my wife. So, Y/n, will you marry me?"

You nodded through tears,. pulling him up off one knee and kissing him harshly, only pulling back to look at the ring.

"I love you too," you smiled through tears. "I love you so much."

"I love you so much more," he smiled, elated that you'd said yes. "You saved me."

And that was that. You were were engaged.

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danielriccardo

liked by landonorris, ynillman, liamlawson, and 893,273 others

danielriccardo she was there for me through thick and thin, and she still likes me years later. you swore you wouldn't get rid of me, so i'm here to stay! love you more than anything, my love, my life, my (future) wife!

comments

landonorris HARD LAUNCH

robertirwin So happy for you guys!

oscarpiastri must come and visit you two oldies

maxverstappen man had been stolen... kidding! (not) Very happy for you two! (not).

read more...

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navigation for my blog :)

redbull and vcarb masterlist

[woozinhos]

i forgot have i send this yet or not.

but wonwoo idol and reader idol (solo artist), she was performing and wonwoo got turned on mid performance, and when she's done she fuck her so hard still wearing her stage outfit

(i'm sorry about my terrible grammar, english is my second language HEHEHEHE)

Notes: im going to be redoing my tag list as I’m gonna start to commit and tag you all will make the form later :)

╭────── · · ୨୧ · · ──────╮

Smut below the cut

╰────── · · ୨୧ · · ──────╯

The lights dimmed and the crowd erupted into cheers as you finished your performance, your body glistening with sweat. You took a bow, waving to the audience before exiting the stage and heading backstage. Wonwoo was waiting for you, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed and a smirk on his face.

"You were amazing out there," he said, his eyes raking over your body. You walked up to him, a smile on your face as you caught your breath. "Thank you," you replied, slightly out of breath from dancing. "Did you enjoy the show?" He pushed himself off the wall and walked closer to you, his gaze darkening as he got a better look at your outfit.

"Very much," he said, his voice low and husky. "Especially the outfit." He placed his hands on your hips, his fingers digging into the soft flesh. "You looked so sexy on stage, all those people watching you, but you're all mine." He pulled you closer to him, his body flush against yours. You wrapped your arms around his neck, feeling the heat radiating off of him.

"You're so possessive," you teased, knowing how much he hated it when others looked at you for too long. He growled softly, his grip on you tightening. "I have every right to be possessive when it comes to you," he said, his lips brushing against your ear. "You're mine to look at, mine to touch, mine to have."

"And that outfit isn't helping," he added, his breath hot against your skin. He began to nibble on your earlobe, his hands slowly moving up and down your body, tracing the curves of your outfit. You shivered at his touch, your body responding to him immediately. "You're driving me crazy," he whispered, his lips moving down to your neck, leaving a trail of kisses along the way.

“Let's get out of here," he said, his voice filled with urgency. He took your hand and led you towards his dressing room, not caring if anyone saw the two of you together. He pushed you inside and locked the door behind him, his eyes never leaving yours. He pressed you against the wall, caging you in with his body as he continued to attack your neck with kisses and bites. You let out a soft moan, tilting your head to give him better access. He smirked against your skin, loving the sounds you were making.

"You're so sensitive," he said, his hands moving down to your thighs, slowly lifting your skirt up. He looked down at your exposed thighs, his eyes darkening even more with lust."I want to rip this outfit off of you," he groaned, his fingers digging into the soft flesh of your thighs. "But I want to see you wear it while I fuck you even more." He leaned in and bit down on your shoulder, his teeth leaving a mark.

"I'm going to make you feel so good," he promised, his hands moving to your ass and squeezing it roughly. You let out a gasp as he pushed your skirt and panties aside, leaving you completely exposed. He smirked at your reaction, his fingers tracing your bare skin. "You're already so wet for me," he said, his voice filled with satisfaction. He slowly ran a finger up and down your slit, teasing you and making you squirm.

"You're practically dripping," he said again, his finger now circling your clit. "So needy, so desperate for my touch."

"Do you want my cock, princess?" he asked, his finger now applying more pressure to your clit. "Tell me how badly you want it."

"Please," you whimpered, your voice shaky. "I want it so bad. I need it. I need you to fill me up and ruin me." His eyes darkened with desire at your pleading tone, his finger still rubbing circles on your clit. "Such a good girl, begging for me like that," he said, his free hand moving up to grip your chin. "You're going to get exactly what you want." He grabs the mic pack and throws it aside, not caring where it lands.

Without warning, he thrusts into you, burying himself deep inside you. You cry out as he enters you, your back arching against the wall. He holds you in place, his grip on your chin and hip tight as he starts to move, setting a rough pace from the start. "Fuck," he groans, his eyes fixated on your face as he watches your expression twist in pleasure. "You feel so tight and perfect around me." He begins to thrust harder, each thrust hitting deeper and deeper inside you.

"You were made for me," he growls, his words sending shivers down your spine. "Your body was made to take my cock and no one else's."

"Yes, baby," you moan, your words almost incoherent from the pleasure. "I'm yours, only yours." He smiles devilishly, loving how obedient you're being. "Good girl," he praises, his thrusts becoming faster and more intense. "Keep saying it. I want to hear you admit that you belong to me over and over again." You repeat his words like a mantra, unable to think of anything else but the feeling of him claiming you.

"I belong to you," you say breathlessly, your nails digging into his shoulders. "I'm your little plaything, your toy to use and control."

He throws his head back in pleasure, his hips snapping against yours with even more force. "That's right," he moans, his voice filled with dominance. "You're my toy, and I'm going to use you however I want." He can't stop looking at your body, admiring the way the outfit hugs your curves and accentuates your every move.

"I can't believe how good you look," he says, his eyes trailing over your chest, watching it bounce with each thrust. "I'm going to make sure this is the only thing you wear for me from now on."

"You're getting close, aren't you?" he says, his breath hot against your ear. He reaches down and starts rubbing your clit again, knowing exactly how to make you come undone. You moan loudly, your body tensing up as the pleasure builds up inside you.

"I can feel you clenching around me," he groans, his movements becoming sloppier as he nears his own climax. "You're going to cum on my cock, princess. I can feel it." You can barely speak now, your words coming out as gasps and moans. "Please, please let me cum," you beg, your nails scratching down his back. "I need to cum so badly, I can't hold it anymore." He smiles devilishly once again, satisfied with your begging.

"Cum for me then," he commands, his fingers continuing to work your clit in tight circles. "Let go and cum all over me." You let out a scream as you finally reach your climax, your body trembling with pleasure as you clench around him. He grunts as you cum, the feeling of you tightening around his cock pushing him over the edge as well. He moans loudly as he spills inside you, his hips stuttering as he rides out his orgasm. He leans his forehead against yours, panting heavily as he catches his breath.

He slowly pulls out of you, a mixture of his cum and your juices dripping down your thighs. He gently kisses your forehead before picking you up and carrying you over to the nearest couch. He looks down at the mess on your thighs, a smirk forming on his face. "Look at the mess you made," he teases, his hand trailing up your leg. "You made such a big mess, and you're going to have to clean it up." Mingyu's loud banging on the door interrupts the moment, startling both you and him.

He sighs, annoyed by the interruption.

"Damn it," he mutters under his breath. "I guess I have to go." "Hurry up!" Mingyu shouts again, his voice even louder than before. "You're taking too long, and Wonwoo's about to go on!" You laugh at Mingyu's impatience, and he chuckles along with you.

"Looks like our fun is cut short," he says, setting you down on the couch. "But I'll definitely be finishing this later." He kisses you slowly, savoring the taste of your lips against his. He holds your face in his hands, his thumbs caressing your cheeks as he deepens the kiss. He pulls away from the kiss reluctantly, a soft smile on his face.

"Bye, princess," he says, looking at you one last time before turning to leave. "I'll see you after the performance."

[cha-melodius]

6. The “I forgive you” hug (for rwrb, if you haven’t gotten this one yet)

(Ooh, an unusual request! There are so many ways this could have gone; I hope you enjoy what I came up with. read all the hug ficlets)

6: The “I forgive you” hug

“Are you going to tell me what’s going on with you?” Henry asks, having finally managed to corner Alex alone by the cake, midway through their friends’ wedding reception.

Alex rolls his eyes, not in that teasing way he used to but decidedly exasperated, which is as much a sign that something’s wrong as all the rest of his behaviour. “Nothing’s going on,” he huffs, pretending like he’s suddenly fascinated by sugar flowers.

“You’ve been acting like a right arsehole all night. To Jeff, and to me,” Henry says bluntly. He’s never seen Alex be as rude as he’s been to Henry’s date. Maybe he and Alex haven’t stayed in touch as much lately, but they were close friends once. Honest with each other. Ok, perhaps Henry had kept one secret, but that’s beside the point. “Something’s clearly wrong, and I think you should just say it.”

“It’s nothing,” Alex grunts.

He starts trying to walk away, but Henry’s not done with this discussion; he reaches out to grab Alex’s arm, only to for his grip to get shaken off. The movement causes Alex to lurch to the side and he bumps into the cake table, which wobbles once, precariously, before stabilising.

Alex lets out a heavy sigh of relief, and Henry takes advantage of his distraction to grab his arm, more firmly this time, and haul him out into the corridor.

“Stop saying it’s nothing,” Henry snaps. They’re standing closer now, their noses no more than a handful of centimetres apart, and Alex glares up at him. “I know you, and this isn’t who you are.”

“Maybe it is now,” Alex retorts defiantly, but there are cracks forming in his façade. His lower lip, stuck out along with his set jaw, wobbles.

“Please, Alex,” Henry says, his voice softening before he means to let it. He’s never been able to stay mad at Alex for that long. “You know you can tell me anything.”

Alex’s expression crumples, and he drops his eyes to the ground. “I’m sorry, H. I was frustrated at myself, and I took it out on you guys. You didn’t deserve that.”

Henry doesn’t hesitate before he pulls Alex into a hug, wrapping his arms tightly around Alex’s shoulders as Alex tucks his head partly under Henry’s chin. “It’s forgiven,” he says, half into Alex’s curls. “It’s just… I missed you, and it hurt when you pushed me away like that.”

“I missed you too,” Alex sniffles into Henry’s shoulder. After another breath, he carefully extracts himself and smooths the front of his jacket down. “I saw you after all this time, and I think I was so fucking overwhelmed by regret that I temporarily lost my mind.”

“What do you mean, regret?” Henry asks, though he assumes Alex means not keeping in touch as much as they should have—Henry certainly has plenty of regrets about that.

But Alex just smiles a little ruefully and shakes his head. “Mostly regret that I didn’t figure out I was bisexual until after college.”

Henry blinks at him. “What?”

“I mean, I had such a big, fat crush on you, and I didn’t even realise what it was until literal years later. How embarrassing is that?”

He says it with a laugh and an alluring dusty pink tinge on his cheeks, like he hasn’t just turned Henry’s entire life upside down.

“But—” Henry starts, only to falter. “But you’ve got a partner now, too.”

“Who, Nora?” Alex frowns at him. “I could have sworn I told you she’s my sister’s wife. She’s just here because I didn’t want to come alone. That, and the free cake.”

“So… you’re not seeing anyone?”

Alex’s mouth tips wryly. “Nope. Sadly single.”

Henry doesn’t think—he crosses the few steps between them, puts both of his hands on Alex’s face, and pulls him into a kiss. Alex responds almost instantaneously, like he can’t help it, and their lips slide together for a few blissful moments before he tears himself out of it, his eyes wide.

“Wait— what about Jeff?”

“We’ve been on three dates and I don’t even like him that much,” Henry confesses. “I didn’t want to come alone either.”

“So you—”

“Have been in love with you since our first year? Yes,” Henry finishes, unwilling to waste any more time.

Alex’s smile is impossibly brilliant when Henry pulls him into another kiss.

[nickgurl4life]

ᢉ𐭩Shattered Chainsᢉ𐭩

Pairings: Ex Boyfriend! + Ex Girlfriend!Reader

Warnings: abuse, child endangerment, manipulation (none of this is Chris), and other angst things, If I missed any let me know!

Summary: reader is in a toxic relationship and Chris is trying to save her and her baby.

w/c: 4,931

a/n: I thought of this idea, if you do NOT like reading about domestic violence or any type of threatening with women/children, do not read! If you read and end up being uncomfortable do not blame me! This is your warning.

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Chris stood in front of the familiar house, his heart pounding in his chest. He had played this moment over and over in his head, imagining how it might go. Would she smile when she saw him? Would they talk about the good times, maybe even laugh about how foolish they’d been to let each other go? After three years apart and a fresh breakup of his own, he couldn’t shake the idea that maybe, just maybe, they were meant to find their way back to each other. Taking a deep breath, he rang the doorbell. The door swung open, but instead of her, a man stood in the doorway. Tall, broad-shouldered, and wearing a smug expression, the stranger looked Chris up and down like he was sizing him up. "Can I help you?" the man asked, his tone sharp. Chris cleared his throat. "Uh, hi. I’m Chris. I was hoping to see her—" he started, but the man cut him off. "Yeah, I know who you are," the man said, leaning against the doorframe. "She’s mentioned you." His tone made it clear that whatever she’d said wasn’t flattering. "What do you want?" Chris faltered, already regretting his decision to come. "I just... I wanted to talk to her. Is she home?" "She’s busy," the man said, crossing his arms. "Look, I get it. You’re the ex, right? Thought you’d swoop in here after three years and win her back or something? Hate to break it to you, man, but she’s moved on." He glanced back into the house and smirked. "We’ve got a good thing going here."

Just as Chris opened his mouth to respond, she appeared behind the man, holding a small baby in her arms. Her eyes widened when she saw Chris. "Chris?" she said, her voice soft with surprise. She shifted the baby in her arms, her expression unreadable. "Hey," Chris said, his voice cracking. "I... I didn’t know you had a baby." he man turned, glancing at her and the baby, then back at Chris with a mocking grin. "Yeah, this is Ellie. She’s ours." He wrapped an arm around her shoulders, pulling her closer. "You’re a little late, buddy." "Adam," she said sharply, stepping away from him. She looked at Chris, her expression now tinged with guilt. "Can we talk? Just us?" Adam raised his hands in mock surrender. "Sure, go ahead. But don’t take too long. Some of us actually have responsibilities." He gave Chris one last condescending look before disappearing into the house. She sighed, stepping out onto the porch with Ellie still in her arms. "I’m sorry about that," she said quietly. "Adam... he can be protective." "Protective?" Chris echoed, his voice laced with bitterness. "He’s a jerk." She winced but didn’t argue. "Chris, why are you here?" Chris looked at her, his chest tightening. "I don’t know," he admitted. "I guess... I thought maybe there was still something between us. After my breakup, I couldn’t stop thinking about you. About us." His voice broke, and he ran a hand through his hair. "But I see now that you’ve got a life—a family."

Her eyes softened, but she shook her head. "Chris, what we had was real, and I’ll always care about you. But things are different now. I’m with Adam, and Ellie... she’s my whole world." She looked down at the baby, her expression tender. Chris swallowed hard, nodding even though his heart was breaking. "I just... I needed to see for myself. To know for sure." She reached out, touching his arm gently. "I hope you find someone who makes you happy, Chris. You deserve that." Before he could respond, the door opened, and Adam leaned out, his smirk firmly back in place. "Everything good out here?" he asked, his tone dripping with false concern. Chris forced a tight smile, swallowing the lump in his throat. "Yeah. Everything’s fine." He turned to her one last time, his voice soft. "Take care of yourself." As he walked away, Adam’s smug laughter echoed behind him, but Chris didn’t look back. He knew he couldn’t change the past, and now, it was clear there was no going back. Two weeks later, Chris found himself driving past her house again, unable to resist the pull that had taken hold of him since that fateful day. He told himself he was being stupid, that he should leave well enough alone, but the sight of the driveway—empty of Adam’s car—ignited a reckless kind of hope. Maybe they could talk without Adam looming over them, making everything tense. Maybe he could finally say what he hadn’t had the courage to before.

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Two weeks later, Chris found himself driving past her house again, unable to resist the pull that had taken hold of him since that fateful day. He told himself he was being stupid, that he should leave well enough alone, but the sight of the driveway—empty of Adam’s car—ignited a reckless kind of hope. Maybe they could talk without Adam looming over them, making everything tense. Maybe he could finally say what he hadn’t had the courage to before. He parked a block away, his palms slick with nervous sweat as he approached the front door. The memory of Adam’s smug smirk and sharp words haunted him, but this time, it didn’t matter. He rang the bell, and when she answered, the baby perched on her hip, she looked surprised but not angry. “Chris,” she said, her tone cautious. “What are you doing here?” “I saw Adam wasn’t home,” he said quickly, holding his hands up in a gesture of surrender. “I swear, I’m not here to cause trouble. I just… I wanted to talk. Please.” She hesitated, glancing down at Ellie, who cooed softly, then back at him. “Alright. Just for a few minutes.” She stepped aside, letting him in, and they sat in the living room, the baby in her lap. Chris couldn’t help but smile at the way Ellie’s tiny hands reached for her mother’s face, the love between them so evident it almost hurt to see. “I wanted to apologize,” Chris began, his voice low. “For showing up out of nowhere last time. I wasn’t thinking straight, and I didn’t mean to make things awkward for you.” She softened slightly, giving him a small nod. “I appreciate that. It was… unexpected, but I understand.

Breakups mess with your head.” Chris swallowed hard, his hands gripping his knees. “I just can’t stop thinking about you. About what we had. I know it’s been years, and I know things are different now, but I can’t shake the feeling that I messed up the best thing I ever had.” She looked down at Ellie, her expression conflicted. “Chris… I won’t lie and say I don’t think about us sometimes. You were important to me. But my life now… it’s complicated. Adam—” Before she could finish, the front door swung open with a loud bang, and Adam’s voice boomed through the house. “I’m home!” Chris froze as Adam appeared in the doorway, his eyes narrowing the moment he saw him. “What the hell is this?” Adam snapped, his face darkening. “It’s not what you think,” she said quickly, standing and bouncing Ellie on her hip in an effort to diffuse the tension. “Chris just came to talk. That’s all.” “To talk?” Adam spat, glaring at Chris. “You don’t belong here. I told you to stay away.” “Adam, stop,” she said firmly, her tone sharp enough to make him hesitate. “I let him in. He’s not causing any trouble.” Adam’s jaw tightened, his hands clenched into fists at his sides. “This guy thinks he can just waltz in here and play the hero? What, you think you’re gonna swoop in and take her away from me? From us?” Chris stood, his own frustration bubbling to the surface. “That’s not what this is about,” he said, his voice steady despite the storm brewing in his chest.

“I just needed to say my piece. I’m not trying to ruin anything.” "Yeah, well, you being here is enough to ruin things,” Adam snapped. “You don’t get to come in here and act like you still have a claim on her. She’s with me now. We’re a family.” “Adam, that’s enough!” she shouted, her voice trembling but firm. Ellie began to cry, the tension in the room too much for the baby. She turned her back on both of them, trying to soothe her daughter. “This isn’t about you or him. It’s about what’s best for me and Ellie. And right now, what I need is for both of you to stop acting like children.” Adam’s face softened slightly at her words, though his glare at Chris remained. Chris took a step back, his heart heavy but his mind clear. “She’s right,” he said quietly. “I shouldn’t have come here. I’m sorry.” Without another word, he turned and walked out the door, the sound of Ellie’s cries echoing in his ears. This time, he knew it was really over. No matter how much he wished things could be different, her life was no longer his to be part of.

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The house was quiet except for the faint hum of the baby monitor on the kitchen counter. Ellie had finally fallen asleep after the tension-filled evening, her tiny breaths audible through the monitor. She leaned against the sink, her hands gripping the edge tightly as she tried to calm the storm brewing inside her. Adam stood across the room, pacing, his footsteps heavy against the floor. His jaw was tight, and his eyes burned with barely contained anger. “I can’t believe you let him in here,” Adam finally snapped, his voice low but cutting. “What were you thinking? After everything I’ve done for you—for us—you let him walk back into your life like it’s nothing?” She turned to face him, her own patience wearing thin. “I wasn’t trying to hurt you, Adam. He showed up, and I didn’t want to make a scene. He just wanted to talk, and I thought it would be better to let him say whatever he needed to say so he’d leave for good.” Adam scoffed, throwing his hands in the air. “So what, you’re just inviting your exes over now? Letting them sit in my house, around my family? What’s next, you’re going to let him hold Ellie?” “Stop it!” she hissed, her voice sharp but quiet to avoid waking Ellie. “This isn’t about you or Chris. It’s about me trying to handle something from my past so it doesn’t keep coming back. He’s gone now, Adam. You don’t need to keep blowing this out of proportion.”

“Blowing it out of proportion?” he repeated, his voice rising despite her warning. “How do you think this looks? He’s still in love with you—it’s obvious! And you just let him walk in here like nothing’s changed. Do you even respect me? Us?” Her hands clenched into fists at her sides as she fought to keep her composure. “Don’t you dare question my respect for you, Adam. I’ve been nothing but honest and committed to you since the beginning. But that doesn’t mean I owe you control over how I handle my past. Chris is not a threat to us, and the fact that you’re turning this into something it isn’t says more about your insecurities than it does about me.” His face darkened at her words, but he didn’t respond immediately. The silence between them stretched, heavy and tense. Finally, he spoke, his voice quieter but still laced with bitterness. “You don’t get it, do you? I’m not just mad because he showed up—I’m mad because you let him make me feel like I’m not enough. Like he still has a place in your life.” She shook her head, exhaustion settling over her. “He doesn’t have a place in my life, Adam. I told him that tonight. You’re the one I chose. You’re the one I’m building a life with. But if you keep letting your jealousy and pride get in the way, you’re going to ruin this yourself.” Adam stared at her for a moment, his expression unreadable.

Then, without another word, he turned and stormed off toward the bedroom, leaving her standing alone in the kitchen. The baby monitor hummed softly, a stark contrast to the turmoil raging inside her. She closed her eyes, taking a deep breath to steady herself. It wasn’t Chris who was threatening her future—it was Adam. And as she stood there in the quiet of the night, she couldn’t help but wonder how much more of this she could take.

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A week later, she sat on the edge of the bed, the baby monitor humming beside her. Ellie was asleep, and the house was quiet, but her mind was anything but. For days, Adam had been acting colder, more controlling, monitoring her every move. She felt trapped, suffocated by his paranoia and manipulations. She needed help, someone to remind her of the person she used to be before all of this. Against her better judgment, she dialed Chris’s number, her hands trembling as she held the phone to her ear. “Hello?” Chris’s voice came through the line, warm but cautious. “Is everything okay?” She let out a shaky breath, her voice barely above a whisper. “Chris, I—I don’t know what to do. Things with Adam… they’re worse than ever. I think—” “What the hell are you doing?” Adam’s voice boomed from the doorway, making her jump. Before she could react, he stormed over and snatched the phone from her hand, glaring at the screen before pressing it to his ear.

“Listen here, you piece of crap,” Adam growled, his voice venomous. “Stay out of my family’s life. You’ve got no business talking to her, and if I ever catch you calling her again, I’ll make sure you regret it.” "Put her back on the phone, Adam,” Chris demanded, his tone steady but firm. “I’m not going to let you treat her like this.” Adam laughed bitterly, pacing the room with the phone in his grip. “You’re not going to let me? Last I checked, I’m the one here, not you. She doesn’t need your help. She doesn’t need you. Stay out of it before you make things worse for her.” She stood frozen, her heart pounding as she watched the scene unfold, tears welling in her eyes. Adam ended the call abruptly, throwing the phone onto the bed before turning to her, his face twisted with fury. “You think running to him is going to fix anything? You think he’s going to save you?” She opened her mouth to respond, but no words came. The room felt smaller now, the walls closing in as Adam loomed over her. She knew she couldn’t stay silent much longer—something had to change before it was too late.

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Chris hadn’t been able to get her call out of his mind. Her voice had been shaky, scared—nothing like the woman he’d known years ago. Something was wrong, and no matter what Adam had threatened, he couldn’t ignore it. He drove to the house late that evening, his hands gripping the wheel tightly, determination coursing through him. The driveway was empty, and the lights inside were dim, but he didn’t let that deter him. When he reached the door and knocked, there was no response. He hesitated for a moment, debating whether to leave, but a gut feeling told him not to. The thought of her and the baby in danger gnawed at him. He tested the doorknob, and to his surprise, it turned. Quietly, he let himself in, his footsteps cautious as he moved toward the muffled voices coming from the living room. As he got closer, the voices became clearer—her voice, trembling and pleading, and Adam’s, sharp and venomous. Chris froze when he stepped into the doorway and saw the scene before him. Adam was standing over her, holding Ellie in one arm while his free hand was raised, hovering over her as though he were about to strike. “You’re so ungrateful!” Adam barked, his face twisted with rage. “I’ve done everything for you, and this is how you repay me? Sneaking around and calling him?”

She cowered slightly, her hands raised in a futile attempt to protect herself. “Adam, please,” she said, her voice breaking. “I didn’t mean—just calm down. You’re scaring Ellie.” Chris couldn’t stay silent any longer. “What the hell is going on here?” he demanded, stepping into the room. Adam spun around, his eyes narrowing dangerously at the sight of Chris. “What are you doing in my house?” he growled, clutching Ellie tighter. The baby whimpered, sensing the tension, and Adam barely seemed to notice. “I came to check on her,” Chris said, his voice steady despite the anger bubbling beneath the surface. “And it looks like I got here just in time. Put the baby down, Adam. Now.” Adam smirked, shifting Ellie slightly in his arms. “Oh, you think you’re going to play the hero? Walk in here and save her? You’ve got no idea what you’re messing with.” Chris took a step closer, his eyes locked on Adam. “I said put her down. You’re scaring her, and you’re scaring her mother. This ends now.”

Adam’s smirk faltered, his grip on Ellie tightening for a moment before he finally relented, setting the baby down in her playpen with a roughness that made Chris’s stomach turn. As soon as Ellie was safe, Chris stepped between Adam and her, positioning himself as a barrier. “She’s done with this,” Chris said firmly, his voice low but filled with conviction. “You don’t get to treat her like this. You don’t get to threaten her and the baby.” Adam glared at him, his fists clenching at his sides. “You don’t get to decide what happens in my house,” he spat. “She’s mine. Not yours. She doesn’t need you.” “She’s not yours,” Chris shot back, his voice rising. “She’s her own person, and she doesn’t deserve to be treated like this. You can’t keep her trapped here.” He turned to her, his expression softening. “You don’t have to stay, you know. You and Ellie can come with me. You don’t have to do this alone.” Tears filled her eyes as she looked at Chris, her body trembling. For the first time in weeks, she felt a flicker of hope—an escape from the nightmare she’d been living. But before she could respond, Adam lunged forward, shoving Chris hard.

“Get out of my house!” Adam roared. “You don’t belong here!” Chris steadied himself, standing his ground. “I’m not leaving without her,” he said firmly. “You’ve lost the right to call this your family.” Adam looked like he was ready to explode, but the sound of Ellie crying from the playpen cut through the tension. The baby’s wails filled the room, and for a moment, no one moved. Then she stepped forward, her voice trembling but strong. “I’m going with Chris,” she said, her eyes locked on Adam. “And if you try to stop me, I’ll call the police.” Adam’s face twisted in fury, but he didn’t say a word. Chris placed a protective hand on her back, guiding her toward Ellie. Chris gently picked up Ellie from the playpen, her cries beginning to subside as he held her close. His touch was calm and steady, his voice a soft murmur of reassurance as he cradled her. “It’s okay, little one. You’re safe now.” He turned to her, nodding toward the door. “Let’s get her to the car.” She followed him, her legs shaky but determined. As they neared the door, Adam’s voice cut through the tense silence. “You think this is over?” he spat, his tone dripping with venom. “You think you can just leave and everything will be fine? You’re making the biggest mistake of your life.”

She stopped in the doorway, turning to face him, her body trembling but her resolve firm. “No, Adam. The biggest mistake of my life was staying with you as long as I did,” she said, her voice steady despite the lump in her throat. “I’m done. You don’t get to control me, manipulate me, or scare me anymore. It’s over.” Adam’s face twisted with rage, but she held her ground, her voice unwavering. “You can say whatever you want, but I’m leaving with my daughter, and I’m not coming back. You don’t love me, Adam. You just love having power over me, and I’m done giving you that.” Chris, who had stepped outside with Ellie, reappeared in the doorway, his presence a silent reassurance. “She said it’s over, Adam,” he said firmly. “You need to accept that and let her go.” Adam glared at him, but there was something different in his eyes now—frustration, defeat, maybe even fear. For the first time, it seemed like he realized he wasn’t in control anymore. She didn’t wait for him to respond. Without another word, she turned and walked out the door, her steps growing stronger with each one. When she reached the car, Chris was already securing Ellie into the car seat, his movements careful and practiced. He looked up as she approached, his expression soft but filled with determination.

“You’re doing the right thing,” he said gently. “You’re stronger than you think.” She nodded, a single tear sliding down her cheek. “I just want to keep her safe. I want her to have the life she deserves.” Chris placed a hand on her shoulder, giving her a reassuring squeeze. “You’re giving her that now. And you’re not alone in this anymore.” She looked back at the house one last time, then climbed into the car, leaving Adam—and the life she thought she had to endure—behind. For the first time in years, she felt the promise of a new beginning.

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Authors Note: here's something that's not super angsty but it's sad, writing about abuse/domestic violence is a bit out of comfort but I had an anon ask for it (I think I accidentally deleted their ask whoops) but ENJOY BABES~

who wants a part two!?

Taglist: @mattsplaything @emely9274 @pvssychicken @mattsslutt @chrislilcumslvt @cupiidk1lls @loud-sturniolos @p14th0mps0n @3xclus1vel0v3r @bilssturns @nateismybf @chrissweetheart @jassturn @kaybug88 @kennastromboli @goingtojohnkramershouseee @matthewsroses @whore4chris @trevorsgodmother @sweetshuga @chrissdiorstar

[moonlitstoriess]

Binding Lies- Eris Vanserra x fem! reader (mini-series) Part 3

Summary: When Y/N, Azriel's secret half-sister who lives far away, and Eris Vanserra form a strategic contractual marriage to further their own agendas, what begins as a carefully crafted arrangement soon becomes more complicated. As they pretend to be a perfect couple, the lines between duty and desire blur, and neither is prepared for the consequences.

See masterlist

Previous part

Warnings: once again, none I believe

“Now, you may kiss the bride.”

The priest’s words hung in the air like a blade poised to strike. Y/N had known they were coming—had been bracing for them since the moment she stepped into the hall. And yet, the sound of them sent her stomach plummeting as though the ground beneath her had given way.

Her breath caught, the weight of the moment pressing down on her chest. Her heart thudded loudly in her ears, drowning out the murmurs of the crowd. She didn’t move. Couldn’t move. Her hands remained limp in Eris’ grasp, and for a moment, she was certain that her body would betray her—would refuse to obey, to go through with this.

But Eris didn’t hesitate.

Without a flicker of uncertainty, he turned to her, his movements fluid and confident, as though this moment was nothing more than a well-rehearsed dance. She watched, frozen, as the faintest smile curled the edges of his lips—a smile that didn’t quite reach his amber eyes. He wasn’t Eris Vanserra, the arrogant and calculating male she had come to know. No, in this moment, he was something entirely different: the charming lover, the perfect prince.

His hand shifted to her waist, strong and sure, and Y/N’s breath hitched at the sudden warmth of his touch. The layers of silk and lace did little to dull the sensation, his fingers firm yet gentle as they settled against her. Her skin prickled beneath his touch, a heat she hadn’t expected spreading through her like wildfire.

She wanted to pull away, to create distance, but her body betrayed her once more. Her muscles wouldn’t respond, wouldn’t let her move as he leaned in, the sharp scent of pine and smoke filling her senses.

Time slowed as his face came closer to hers. Y/N’s heart raced, her pulse a frantic drumbeat in her chest. She couldn’t look away from him—the sharp lines of his jaw, the golden light in his eyes, the way his expression remained calm and composed even as her world tilted on its axis.

And then his lips met hers.

The kiss was gentle, far softer than she had imagined it would be. It wasn’t rushed or forceful—it wasn’t the kind of kiss she had seen shared in grand love stories or sweeping romances. No, it was calculated, careful. Just enough pressure to make it believable, to convince the room full of watching eyes that this was real.

But to Y/N, it was so much more than that.

The warmth of his mouth sent a jolt through her, a spark of something she didn’t want to name. Her lashes fluttered closed as his lips moved against hers, light and practiced, drawing her into the moment despite herself.

Her free hand, the one not held in his grasp, twitched at her side as though it might rise of its own accord. Her thoughts blurred, the weight of the crowd’s gaze fading as she focused solely on the feel of him. It was dangerous, how easily she could lose herself in it.

And then, just as her heart began to steady, just as she felt herself leaning into the kiss—he pulled away.

Her eyes snapped open, her chest heaving as if she had forgotten to breathe. Eris lingered close for a moment longer, his face still inches from hers. His amber eyes locked onto hers, unreadable yet impossibly intense, and for a fleeting moment, she thought she saw something raw flicker in their depths. But it was gone too quickly to name.

He didn’t look like the male who had kissed her moments ago. He looked like Eris again—sharp, composed, and infuriatingly smug. And yet, there was something softer in the corners of his mouth, something that made her chest tighten.

The world around them came rushing back with the priest’s booming voice.

“May I present to you, Lord and Lady Vanserra, Prince and Princess of the Autumn Court.”

The hall erupted into applause, the sound jarring as it echoed off the grand walls. Y/N felt Eris’ hand squeeze hers again, grounding her as the weight of the moment threatened to crush her. She forced herself to smile, to turn her head toward the crowd as their cheers washed over her like a tidal wave.

Eris stepped closer, his grip firm as he guided her to face their people, his expression a mask of regal confidence. Y/N followed his lead, her movements stiff but deliberate as she reminded herself of the role she was meant to play.

The ceremonial proceedings dragged on, each step feeling more surreal than the last. They exchanged rings—a delicate band of gold and firestone sliding onto her finger—and accepted the blessings of the court’s elders, who approached one by one with words of congratulations and advice. Y/N nodded and smiled, her body moving through the motions even as her mind remained fixated on the kiss.

She could still feel the ghost of it on her lips, the lingering warmth that refused to fade no matter how hard she tried to shake it.

When the formalities were finally complete, the priest raised his hands, calling for silence once more.

“And now,” he announced, his voice rich with authority, “we invite you all to the grand celebration in honor of the newlyweds. The feast will begin in the Great Hall shortly.”

Cheers erupted again, the guests rising to their feet as the announcement marked the end of the ceremony.

Eris turned to her, his hand never leaving hers as he leaned in close. “You did well,” he murmured, his voice low enough that only she could hear.

Y/N glanced up at him, her eyes narrowing slightly at the faint smirk tugging at his lips. “Is that what this is to you? A performance?” she whispered back, her tone sharper than she intended.

His smile didn’t falter, but his gaze softened ever so slightly. “You’ll learn, princess,” he replied, his voice like silk. “Sometimes, a performance is the only way to survive.”

She didn’t respond.

Instead, she let him lead her down the aisle, their hands still entwined, as the crowd continued to cheer around them. The weight of her crown felt heavier than ever, the rings on her finger cold against her skin.

But nothing was heavier than the memory of his kiss—the warmth that lingered, despite everything.

The grand banquet hall of Montesere gleamed under the warm glow of chandeliers, their light refracting against the marble floors and the golden accents of the walls. Music flowed through the air, a symphony of strings and flutes that carried the celebration into every corner. Servants moved with precision, trays of wine and delicacies balanced in their hands as they weaved through the crowd of nobles and aristocrats.

But Eris Vanserra hardly noticed any of it.

He sat at the table reserved for the newlyweds, his chair positioned slightly higher than the others, marking his place as both the guest of honor and the new lord of the union. His posture was flawless, his expression unreadable as he inclined his head toward every toast, every congratulation.

Yet his thoughts were elsewhere.

Y/N sat beside him, her presence a quiet flame that demanded his attention without even trying. Her gown—a masterpiece of snowy white adorned with crystals—shimmered like starlight every time she moved, every turn of her head sending fragments of light scattering across the room. The delicate tiara atop her head, a gift from Leone herself, caught the glow of the chandeliers, adding an ethereal quality to her appearance.

She looked like she had been carved from frost and fire, impossibly beautiful, impossibly distant.

His bride.

The kiss lingered in his mind. He hadn’t thought about it when he leaned in—it was part of the ceremony, a necessity to make the union convincing. But when their lips met, when her breath had hitched ever so slightly, something unplanned had stirred in him.

She had frozen for just a second, but then she had leaned into it, her lips soft and warm against his. It wasn’t a long kiss, but it had been enough to ignite something beneath the surface. Something dangerous.

And then he had pulled away. Too quickly. Because if he hadn’t, he might have forgotten that this was all an act.

Now, as he glanced at her from the corner of his eye, he wondered if she had felt it too.

His thoughts darkened as the reality of tomorrow loomed over him. By sunrise, they would leave Montesere. They would return to Autumn. To his father.

The image of Beron’s face flashed in his mind—cold, calculating, cruel. Eris could already imagine the twisted satisfaction in his father’s smile, the mocking remarks he would make about the union. He knew exactly how Beron would assess Y/N, how he would search for any flaw, any weakness to exploit.

Eris’ jaw tightened, his hand gripping the edge of the table.

The thought of his father’s gaze on her, his poisonous words reaching her ears, made something inside Eris twist violently. A sudden, fierce protectiveness surged through him, unexpected and unwelcome.

For a moment, he considered keeping her here, in Montesere. It was far from the Autumn Court, far from his father’s reach. She would be safe here, hidden away in this beautiful, glittering palace.

But no. That wasn’t an option.

Eris forced the thought aside, his expression hardening. This wasn’t about safety or sentiment. This marriage was part of a larger plan—his plan.

He glanced around the hall, taking in the grandeur, the opulence, and the nobles who danced and laughed, oblivious to the storm brewing within him. Every step he had taken, every move he had made, had led to this moment. Marrying Y/N, creating a new identity for her, was only the beginning.

He would return to the Autumn Court. He would dismantle his father’s reign piece by piece. And when the time was right, Beron would fall.

Eris’ eyes flicked back to Y/N, his thoughts sharpening. She didn’t know the full extent of his plans. She didn’t need to. For now, she was a necessary piece on his board.

But she was more than that, wasn’t she?

“Eris.”

Her voice pulled him from his thoughts.

He turned his head to find her watching him, her expression carefully neutral. But there was something in her eyes—curiosity, maybe even concern.

“You’ve been staring at nothing for the past five minutes,” she said softly. “Is this what marriage to you is going to be like? Silent brooding?”

A smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth. “Would you prefer endless conversation instead? I didn’t take you for the chatty type.”

She arched a brow, a flicker of amusement crossing her face. “I can be chatty. When the company is worth it.”

“Then I suppose I’ll have to make myself worth it,” he said, leaning back in his chair.

Her laugh was soft, almost reluctant, but it eased something in his chest.

“You look beautiful tonight,” he said, the words slipping out before he could stop them.

Y/N blinked, her gaze flickering to his, wary. “So do you,” she replied, a faint edge to her voice. “But this dress… it’s not me. It’s beautiful, but…” She looked down at the crystal-laden fabric, her fingers brushing against it. “It’s not who I am.”

Eris tilted his head, his amber eyes narrowing slightly. “Then who are you?”

She opened her mouth to respond, but before she could, Leone's voice boomed across the hall.

“And now,” the Montesere princess announced from the stage, silencing the music and drawing every pair of eyes to her, “a special dance for our newlyweds. Prince and princess Vanserra, please join us on the floor.”

Eris froze.

For the first time that evening, he felt his mask slip.

The applause was polite but insistent, the crowd parting to clear the center of the room.

Y/N turned to him, her brow raised, her hand already extending toward his.

He forced a smile, his fingers curling around hers as he rose from his seat.

And as he led her toward the dance floor, he couldn’t help but wonder if this was all beginning to spiral out of his control.

The applause rang through the hall, polite but thunderous, a sea of expectant eyes following their every move. Y/N’s heart thudded heavily in her chest, each step toward the center of the floor feeling like an eternity.

Her hand rested in Eris’ warm grip, his palm steady against hers as he led her to the cleared space. The weight of her gown seemed heavier now, the shimmering crystals catching the light in a way that made her feel exposed, like every movement was amplified under the scrutiny of the room.

She wasn’t used to this.

Her throat tightened, her breaths quickening as they reached the center of the floor. She could feel their stares, hear the whispers that undoubtedly swirled behind the polished smiles of the Montesere nobility. They were all watching her—the princess from nowhere, now Lady Vanserra.

Panic clawed at the edges of her mind.

But then, Eris turned to face her.

“Y/N.” His voice was low, soothing, cutting through the noise in her head.

Her gaze snapped to his, her own hand tightening instinctively around his. His amber eyes burned with something she couldn’t name, a quiet intensity that made the room blur at the edges.

“Look at me,” he said, his tone firm but gentle. “Not at them. Just me.”

She swallowed hard, forcing herself to nod. The world seemed to steady, her focus narrowing to the male in front of her.

Eris’ hand slid to her waist, the touch deliberate but not overbearing, as if he was giving her a chance to pull away. When she didn’t, he drew her closer. The other hand held hers, his grip strong yet careful, as though he was afraid of breaking something fragile.

The music began, a slow and haunting melody that filled the hall. Strings and piano wove together, their notes soft but commanding, the kind of music that demanded to be felt as much as heard.

Eris led her into the first step, his movements fluid, confident. She followed instinctively, her body falling into rhythm with his. He guided her effortlessly, his hand at her waist anchoring her as they swayed and turned.

But even with his steady presence, she couldn’t shake the weight of the stares, the murmurs she imagined filling the room.

“They’re all watching,” she whispered, her voice barely audible over the music.

“Let them,” Eris replied, his lips quirking in the faintest of smirks. His tone held a calm assurance, as if the attention of an entire room was nothing to him.

“It’s easy for you,” she murmured, her voice tinged with bitterness. “You’ve done this before.”

His thumb brushed lightly against her waist, a gesture so subtle she almost missed it. “And now, so have you.”

Her gaze snapped to his, startled by the quiet warmth in his words.

“You’re doing fine,” he added, his voice low enough that only she could hear. “Better than fine.”

She wanted to argue, to tell him that her heart was pounding too hard, that her steps felt clumsy compared to his flawless movements. But the way he was looking at her, like she was the only one in the room, made the words die in her throat.

His hand at her waist shifted slightly, pulling her just a fraction closer. The distance between them vanished, and for a moment, she forgot about the crowd, the banquet, the weight of her new title. All she could feel was him—his warmth, the steady rise and fall of his chest, the quiet strength in the way he held her.

“You hate this,” he said softly, his voice almost teasing.

She blinked, startled by his bluntness. “I—”

“You hate the dress, the attention, the formality,” he continued, his smirk deepening. “But you’re still here. You’re still doing it.”

Her lips parted, but she couldn’t find a reply. He was right, infuriatingly so.

The music swelled, the melody wrapping around them like a cocoon. As they turned in time with the beat, her gaze caught on the chandeliers above, their crystals glittering like stars.

“I don’t know how to do this,” she admitted, her voice so quiet she wasn’t sure if he heard her.

But then his hand tightened ever so slightly on her waist, grounding her.

“You don’t have to,” he said, his tone softening. “Just follow my lead.”

And she did.

With each step, the tension in her chest eased. The world outside their little circle faded further, the music becoming the only thing that mattered. His hand guided her through each turn, each sway, and for the first time that evening, she felt… steady.

“You’re not terrible at this,” he said, breaking the silence between them.

She looked up at him, startled, before narrowing her eyes. “Not terrible?”

His lips twitched into something that could almost be called a smile. “Surprisingly decent.”

A reluctant laugh escaped her, light and fleeting. “You’re insufferable.”

“And you’re tolerating me. Progress.”

Their banter felt strangely natural, a small bubble of normalcy in the midst of the overwhelming night.

As the music reached its crescendo, she let herself relax, if only a little. She let herself follow his lead, let herself trust the strength in his hands.

When the final note rang out, the room erupted into applause, the sound crashing back into her awareness like a wave.

Eris stepped back, releasing her waist but keeping hold of her hand. His gaze lingered on her for a moment, something unspoken passing between them.

And then he turned, leading her back toward their table as the crowd began to fill the dance floor once more.

Y/N’s chest tightened as the moment ended, the weight of the evening settling back on her shoulders.

But for those few minutes, she had felt something she hadn’t expected.

Not freedom, not happiness.

But something close to peace.

The celebration had finally ended, the grand hall now quiet as the guests dispersed to their respective chambers. The night was heavy with silence, broken only by the distant echo of footsteps and the faint hum of a cool breeze slipping through the corridors. Y/N’s legs felt leaden as she trailed behind Eris, her thoughts a tangled mess of exhaustion, nerves, and disbelief.

She’d managed to navigate through the evening without completely unraveling. She’d endured the stares, the whispers, the constant scrutiny. But this… this part hadn’t even occurred to her until Eris spoke.

“You realize we’ll be staying in the same room tonight,” he said, his tone even but laced with a faint smirk.

Her steps faltered. “What?”

He glanced over his shoulder at her, his amber eyes catching the faint light from the sconces lining the hallway. “We’re a married couple now. Leone was quite insistent on appearances being maintained, even behind closed doors. No one will believe this union if we’re staying in separate rooms.”

Her stomach sank, her pulse quickening. “Oh, gods,” she muttered, more to herself than to him. “I didn’t even think about… that part.”

Eris slowed his pace, turning to face her fully. He arched a brow, amusement flickering across his face. “What part?”

“You know.” She gestured vaguely, her cheeks warming. “The… shared room part. The… other part.”

His smirk deepened, clearly relishing her discomfort. “What other part, Y/N?”

She glared at him, her face flushing further. “You know exactly what I mean.”

“Do I?” he teased, his voice low and infuriatingly smooth.

“You’re impossible,” she hissed, brushing past him.

He chuckled softly but followed her, falling back into step beside her.

When they reached the door to their chamber, Y/N hesitated. The ornate carvings on the wood seemed to mock her, their intricate designs a reminder of the life she’d just stepped into—a life filled with obligations and expectations she hadn’t fully grasped.

Eris pushed the door open and stepped inside, holding it for her. She entered cautiously, her gaze sweeping over the room. It was grand, of course, with arched windows framed by gauzy white curtains that billowed slightly in the night breeze. The walls were warm sandstone, carved with intricate geometric patterns, and the floor was adorned with vibrant rugs in deep reds and golds. A low, cushioned divan sat near a small brass table, and the scent of jasmine lingered faintly in the air, carried in from the balcony beyond. The room was bathed in the soft, silvery glow of moonlight, filtering through the latticework of the windows.

Her throat tightened as she took it all in. This was real. This was happening.

As she turned to Eris, the words tumbled out before she could stop them. “Are we… should we also…?”

His expression softened slightly, the teasing edge from earlier fading. “No,” he said firmly. “We don’t need to have sex.”

Relief flooded her, but before she could respond, he continued, his voice taking on a sharper tone. “And if anyone is dumb or desperate enough to come and listen through the door, I’ll make sure they regret it.”

Her lips parted in surprise, a faint flicker of something she couldn’t quite name stirring in her chest. Gratitude, maybe. Or something else entirely.

Before the silence could stretch too long, the door creaked open again. Two figures stepped inside—Samira and Noura, both wearing faintly amused expressions.

Eris nodded toward them. “I called them to help you undress,” he said, his tone matter-of-fact. “I thought you might be uncomfortable with me helping.”

Her eyes widened slightly, caught off guard by his consideration. She opened her mouth to respond, but he was already moving toward the door.

“I have some preparations to undertake before our departure tomorrow,” he said. “Take your time.”

And with that, he left, the door clicking shut behind him.

For a moment, Y/N just stood there, staring at the door. She felt oddly… touched. It wasn’t a grand gesture, but it was thoughtful in a way she hadn’t expected from him. She shook her head, brushing the feeling aside.

“Well,” Samira said, breaking the silence. “That was… interesting.”

Noura smirked, her eyes gleaming with amusement. “He’s quite the gentleman, isn’t he?”

“Gentleman?” Y/N snorted, the tension in her chest easing slightly. “I wouldn’t go that far.”

Samira chuckled, stepping forward to help unfasten the intricate clasps of her gown. “Still, it’s something. Most males wouldn’t think twice about leaving their wives to fend for themselves.”

Y/N huffed, unsure how to respond. As the two women worked, their hands deftly undoing the layers of her wedding attire, she felt a small pang of regret. The gown was beautiful, but it wasn’t her.

“Don’t put me in a nightdress,” she said suddenly, her voice firm.

Samira and Noura exchanged confused glances. “What?” Noura asked.

“I don’t want a nightdress,” Y/N repeated. “Help me into something… different. Outerwear. A cloak or something.”

Samira frowned. “Why?”

“I need to see my mother,” Y/N said quietly, the words slipping out before she could second-guess them. “One last time.”

Understanding flickered in their eyes, quickly followed by sympathy.

Samira hesitated. “But… Prince Eris—”

Noura nudged her lightly, cutting her off. “Doesn’t need to know if Y/N wishes so.” She turned to Y/N, her expression softening. “Of course, sweetpea. You deserve to see her.”

A small, grateful smile tugged at Y/N’s lips. “Thank you.”

The two women set to work, dressing her in more practical clothing—a simple tunic, sturdy trousers, and a thick cloak to ward off the chill of the night. As they helped her tie the laces and adjust the cloak, their usual amused comments filled the air, lightening the mood.

When they were finished, Y/N stepped back to the mirror, her reflection a stark contrast to the bride she’d been earlier. She looked at herself for a long moment, taking in the determined set of her jaw, the fire in her eyes.

“Are you ready?” Noura asked gently.

Y/N nodded, her fingers brushing the edge of the cloak. “I am.”

And with that, she turned toward the door, her heart steady as she prepared to leave.

The night air was cool against Y/N’s skin as she slipped out of the palace, her cloak drawn tightly around her shoulders. The distant hum of the celebration still carried on the breeze, but each step she took further from the grand halls made the sound fade into a muffled echo. Her heart pounded harder with every passing second, nerves twisting in her chest. She knew the risk of sneaking away, the potential fallout if anyone discovered her absence, but she couldn’t leave without seeing her mother one last time.

Her steps quickened as she navigated the quiet streets of Montesere. The city, bathed in moonlight, looked hauntingly beautiful. The sandstone buildings, their arched windows and ornate carvings illuminated by the soft glow, felt both comforting and foreign. She passed shadowed alleys and quiet courtyards until the healer’s residence came into view—a modest but well-kept villa tucked away from the busier parts of the city.

Two healers greeted her at the entrance, their faces kind but tired. They didn’t seem surprised by her arrival, bowing slightly before one spoke. "Your Highness," the older healer said softly. "Your mother is resting now, but she will be glad to see you. She’s been asking for you."

"How is she?" Y/N asked, her voice trembling.

The healer exchanged a glance with her colleague before offering a small, reassuring smile. "She is weak, yes, but her condition has improved since she was brought here. Thanks to Princess Leone and Prince Eris, we’ve been able to provide better care, better resources. She’s stable, and we’re hopeful the treatments will bring further relief."

Y/N’s throat tightened at the mention of Eris. She nodded quickly, not trusting herself to speak, and followed as they led her down a quiet hallway lit by the warm glow of lanterns. Her heart twisted as they reached the door to her mother’s room.

When she stepped inside, the sight nearly broke her. Her mother, once so full of life and warmth, lay frail against the pillows, her skin pale, her form seeming so much smaller than Y/N remembered. But when her mother’s tired eyes opened and landed on her, they softened with a love that time and illness couldn’t diminish.

"Y/N," her mother whispered, a weak but genuine smile tugging at her lips.

Y/N rushed to her side, sinking to her knees beside the bed as she grabbed her mother’s hand. "Mother," she breathed, her voice breaking. "I’m here."

Her mother’s hand trembled as it rose to touch Y/N’s cheek. "My beautiful girl," she said softly. "I heard you’re married now."

Y/N let out a small laugh, though it was tinged with sadness. "Oh, Mother, you have no idea."

Her mother chuckled weakly, the sound fragile but comforting. "Tell me, child. Is he kind to you?"

Y/N hesitated. The memories of the evening flashed in her mind—the weight of Eris’s hand on her waist, his steadying gaze as they danced, his unexpected consideration. "He… he’s…" She trailed off, unable to find the words.

Her mother gave her a knowing look, her smile faint but teasing. "That good, hm?"

"Mother," Y/N protested lightly, her lips curving despite herself. She looked down, her grip tightening on her mother’s hand. "Please, hold on a little longer. The treatments will come. Eris gave me his word. You’ll get better, and… and then we’ll be together again."

Her mother’s gaze grew distant, a soft sigh escaping her. "Autumn," she murmured. "Never thought my baby would end up there."

Y/N’s throat tightened as tears slipped down her cheeks. "I don’t want to leave. I don’t want to go."

Her mother’s weak hand brushed over her hair, the touch comforting. "Eris is a good male."

Y/N blinked, stunned. "What?"

Her mother’s smile grew, faint but fond. "He’s been visiting me these past three days. Ensuring I’m well cared for. He even came to ask for my blessing."

Shock rippled through Y/N. She opened her mouth to speak, but no words came. Her mind reeled with the revelation.

Her mother chuckled softly at her expression. "Dearest, he may not show it in the way you’d expect, but he cares for you. I can see it."

Y/N shook her head, wiping at her tears. "I don’t know what to think anymore."

Her mother’s hand stilled, her gaze turning somber. "But Y/N, Azriel…"

"Will never know," Y/N said firmly, her voice breaking.

Her mother’s eyes glistened with tears as she nodded, her hand resting gently over Y/N’s. They spoke quietly after that, exchanging memories and soft reassurances until the hour grew late.

When Y/N finally stood to leave, her mother’s whispered "I love you" followed her out the door, carving itself into her heart.

The second she stepped outside, the cool night air hit her, and her knees nearly buckled beneath the weight of her emotions. She pressed herself against the nearest wall, trying to catch her breath—only to collide with something solid.

No, not something. Someone.

Her head snapped up, and her heart dropped as she found herself face-to-face with Eris. His amber eyes burned with barely contained anger, his jaw set tightly.

"Care to explain what you’re doing out here?" he said, his voice dangerously low.

Eris felt a wave of dread crash over him the moment he stepped into the chambers and found them empty. His chest tightened, panic clawing its way up his throat. He scanned the room as though she might have hidden herself in the shadows, but the truth was painfully clear: Y/N was gone.

His heart pounded as the worst scenarios flickered through his mind. She was new to Montesere’s politics, and while the court seemed secure on the surface, he knew better than to trust appearances. What if someone had taken her? What if she’d wandered into danger?

Without wasting another moment, he strode out of the room, his steps swift and purposeful. He passed through the halls, his golden-red hair unbound and messy as his growing panic simmered beneath the surface. His tone was sharp when he finally found Samira in a quiet corridor.

"Where the hell did she go?" he demanded, his voice low but tight, barely masking the protectiveness threatening to explode.

Samira looked startled, blinking up at him. "She went to see her mother," she said cautiously. "She didn’t say anything to you?"

The tension in his chest eased slightly, though the worry remained. Of course, she would go to her mother—she wouldn’t leave without saying goodbye. But the thought of her traveling alone, in the dark, even in a safe city, still ignited an irrational protectiveness he couldn’t shake.

"Alone," he muttered, more to himself than Samira, his hands balling into fists. "Of course, she’d go alone."

Without waiting for another word, he turned and left, striding toward the healer’s residence with determined speed. He didn’t bother to grab a cloak or gloves despite the chill in the night air. All he could think about was finding her, making sure she was safe.

When he saw her stepping out of the healer’s villa, relief flooded him, quickly chased by frustration. She leaned against the wall, her face pale, her shoulders trembling slightly. The sight of her vulnerability tugged at something deep within him, but his anger at her reckless choice burned just as fiercely.

He moved toward her, and when her back pressed into his chest, she flinched and spun around, her wide eyes meeting his furious ones.

"Care to explain what you’re doing out here in the middle of the night, alone?" His voice was sharp, but underneath it, the edge of worry was unmistakable.

Y/N sighed and pushed past him, her cloak sweeping behind her. "She’s my mother, Eris. I didn’t need to tell you."

His jaw tightened, and he turned on his heel to follow her. "You didn’t think I’d want to know you were sneaking out of the palace? That I’d want to ensure you were safe?"

"You shouldn’t have come," she shot back, her tone clipped. "I’m perfectly capable of walking across the city without a shadow trailing me."

"And yet here I am," he bit out, his long strides easily keeping pace with hers. "Because someone has to ensure you don’t get yourself killed."

She stopped abruptly and turned to face him, her expression exasperated. "Do you always have to be this insufferable?"

"Only when people I’m responsible for decide to take unnecessary risks."

Y/N scoffed, her frustration melting slightly into reluctant amusement. "Responsible for? You make it sound like I’m some stray you picked up."

Eris didn’t respond immediately, his gaze softening slightly as he looked at her. "You’re not a stray," he said quietly. "But you are my wife now. I take that responsibility seriously."

She blinked, caught off guard by the sincerity in his voice. For a moment, neither of them spoke, the tension easing into something softer as they continued walking.

After a while, she broke the silence. "My mother told me you’ve been visiting her. That you even asked for her blessing."

Eris’s expression didn’t change, though something flickered in his eyes. "She’s your mother. It seemed… appropriate."

Y/N glanced at him, her steps slowing. "Thank you," she said softly.

He shrugged, as if it were no big deal, but the faintest hint of a smile touched his lips. "Don’t mention it."

They walked in silence again until they reached the edge of the palace grounds. Y/N suddenly stopped, turning to face him with an uncertain expression.

"What is it?" he asked, his brow furrowing.

She hesitated before saying, "Before we leave tomorrow… just… follow me."

Eris raised a brow but didn’t argue, letting her lead the way. She took him to a secluded spot just outside the palace—a small garden tucked away from the main paths. The space was simple but beautiful, with vines climbing up the walls and fragrant flowers blooming under the soft light of the stars. A stone bench sat in the center, surrounded by lush greenery.

"This is where I used to come when I needed to think," she said, her voice quiet. "It’s… my comfort place."

Eris looked around, taking in the serenity of the space. When he turned back to her, his gaze was softer, more open. "It suits you," he said simply.

They sat down together on the bench, the silence between them surprisingly comfortable.

"I’ve never left Montesere," she admitted after a moment, her voice barely above a whisper. "I don’t know what to expect. What if… what if your court hates me? What if your father—"

"He won’t," Eris interrupted, his tone firm. "I won’t let him. You’re under my protection now. No one will touch you, not even him."

She looked at him, her eyes searching his face for any hint of doubt. When she found none, she exhaled softly, some of the tension leaving her shoulders.

"What’s it like?" she asked after a moment. "Your court?"

Eris leaned back slightly, his gaze drifting to the stars above them. "It’s… complicated. Autumn is beautiful, but it’s a harsh kind of beauty. The forests are vast, the colors vibrant, but there’s an edge to it all. It’s not like Montesere’s warmth. It’s colder, both in weather and in its people."

Y/N shivered slightly, her arms wrapping around herself. "Sounds… intimidating."

"It is," Eris admitted. "But you’ll adapt. You’re stronger than you think."

She glanced at him, her lips curving into a faint smile. "You sound so sure."

"I am," he said, his gaze steady on hers. "You’ve already proven you’re resilient. You’ll thrive, Y/N."

They fell into a companionable silence, the night wrapping around them like a blanket. For the first time since the ceremony, Y/N felt a flicker of hope, faint but steady. And as they sat under the stars, she allowed herself to believe, just for a moment, that maybe, just maybe, they could make this work.

The salty breeze of the sea caressed Y/N’s skin as she sat on a weathered wooden bench near the bustling shoreline. The rhythmic sound of waves lapping against the rocky shore below her mixed with the distant clamor of the docks, where servants and courtiers prepared for their departure. She had chosen this quiet spot a little away from the commotion, a place where she could be alone with her thoughts before stepping onto the ship that would take her away from everything she had ever known.

The waters of Montesere stretched out before her, shimmering in the early morning light. Seagulls cried overhead, and the ripples in the sea glimmered like molten silver under the sun’s touch. It was breathtaking, but Y/N couldn’t bring herself to enjoy its beauty fully. Her chest felt tight, her heart heavy with the bittersweet emotions swirling inside her.

She watched as servants loaded trunks onto the ship, their movements hurried but efficient. Autumn courtiers in their crimson and gold attire moved gracefully up the gangplank, their regal bearing a stark contrast to her own quiet melancholy. Every passing moment made it more real—she was leaving Montesere.

Her gaze drifted over the waters again, her fingers gripping the edge of the bench tightly. She had never thought she would leave this place, her home, her sanctuary. Not like this. A princess in name only, embarking on a journey to a land she didn’t belong to, playing a role she had never asked for.

Her thoughts turned to her mother, still fragile and fighting to survive. What if something happened while she was gone? Would her mother hold on long enough to see the promised treatments arrive? And then there was the fear of the unknown—Autumn, its cruel court, and the daunting presence of Eris’s father.

Her mind churned with doubts. How would this plan even end? Would it succeed, or would it all collapse, taking her and her mother down with it? Everything felt so fragile, as if one wrong move could shatter it all.

Lost in her thoughts, she didn’t hear the approaching footsteps until two gentle hands rested on her shoulders. Startled, Y/N turned quickly, her heart racing.

Samira and Noura stood behind her, their bittersweet smiles mirroring the emotions she felt inside.

“I knew we’d find you here,” Samira said softly, her voice warm and understanding.

Y/N’s lips trembled as she tried to find words, but they wouldn’t come. She looked between the two women—her companions these past few days, who had somehow become her only trusted friends in the whirlwind that her life had become.

“I can’t believe I’m saying this,” Y/N began, her voice shaky, “but I’m going to miss you both so much.”

Noura’s eyes glistened as she knelt slightly and pulled Y/N into a hug. “Oh, Y/N. You’re going to be just fine,” she said, her voice thick with emotion. “You are braver and stronger than you think.”

Y/N let out a shaky laugh, trying to push away the lump in her throat. “I don’t know about that.”

“You are,” Noura insisted, pulling back to look at her. “Don’t doubt yourself. You’ve come so far already.”

Y/N smiled faintly and whispered, “I’ll miss you dearly.”

Noura’s cheeks turned pink as she hesitated before responding. “I’ll miss you too,” she murmured, her tone unusually soft.

Confused, Y/N glanced at Samira, who smirked knowingly but quickly changed the subject. “You didn’t think you’d go alone, did you?” Samira said teasingly.

“What?” Y/N blinked, her confusion deepening. “What do you mean?”

Samira crossed her arms, her smirk widening. “I’m coming with you.”

Y/N’s jaw dropped. “No, no way. That’s not—”

“Princess Leone insisted,” Samira interrupted, her voice firm but kind. “She wanted someone you trust to be by your side. Someone to watch your back. Besides, prince Eris can't constantly be with you and I don't trust those Autumn ladies at all judging by the males that came with prince Eris."

Noura chimed in, a playful glint in her eyes despite the sadness there. “I’m staying, of course. The princess needs someone close to her.” Her cheeks flushed again as she added, almost shyly, “But you deserve someone too.”

Y/N frowned, her brow furrowing. “Why are you blushing?”

Samira waved her hand dismissively. “Don’t worry about that,” she said quickly, steering the conversation back. “The point is, you’re stuck with me now.”

Y/N opened her mouth to argue, but before she could, a young servant came running toward them, his expression urgent. “Your Highness, Prince Eris and Princess Leone are aboard the ship. It’s time.”

The words hit Y/N like a final blow, sealing her fate. She took a deep, trembling breath, her gaze once more drifting to the sparkling waters of Montesere.

Turning to Samira, she tried for a smile. “At least I have you.”

“Always,” Samira said, her grin softening into something more sincere.

Together, they began the walk toward the ship, leaving the bench, the shore, and the life Y/N had always known behind.

The ship creaked beneath their feet as Y/N and Samira stepped onto the deck, the bustling sounds of final preparations ringing out around them. Sailors and servants moved with purpose, securing ropes and cargo, while the low hum of voices from the Autumn courtiers blended with the rhythmic slap of the waves against the hull. The air was thick with a mixture of salt and anticipation.

As Y/N and Samira approached the two figures standing by the railing, both Eris and Leone turned toward them in unison.

Leone’s eyes sparkled when she saw Y/N, though there was an underlying sadness to her smile. She stepped forward with a grace only a royal could possess, pulling Y/N into an embrace. “Take care of yourself, my dearest,” she murmured softly, her voice holding an edge of affection. “I am so excited for you. You have no idea how proud I am. You’re going to make such an impact. A life full of purpose awaits.”

Y/N clung to her for a moment longer, surprised by how much she would miss the woman who had shown her nothing but kindness in the last few days. “I won’t forget you,” she whispered, her voice trembling.

Leone pulled back slightly, her lips curving upward. “Don’t be foolish. You’ll never have to. You’re my distant cousin now, a princess in your own right.” She leaned in, her words quiet, almost conspiratorial. “Remember, we’ve crafted a plan so brilliant that no one will ever know. Just stay calm. You’re in control of your future now.”

Y/N nodded, trying to absorb it all—the weight of what Leone was saying, the significance of her words. But Leone’s gaze softened. “You are strong, Y/N. And Samira will be by your side. You two will have to take care of one another. In that place, you’ll be all you have.”

Y/N glanced at Samira, who offered a soft, reassuring smile.

Leone’s voice turned quiet, and she sighed with a touch of bittersweetness. “I wish I could accompany you, but my place is here. My duty to Montesere is here. And someone needs to keep an eye on your mother right? Don't worry she is in safe hands now." She kissed Y/N’s cheek, her warm lips leaving a lingering mark, and then stepped back with a flourish. “Goodbye, my dear. You’re ready for this. And don’t forget, if you need anything, you always have me.”

Eris, who had remained silent, looked at Y/N for a moment, his gaze unreadable. He seemed as if he was about to speak, but his lips pressed into a tight line as if he was holding back. Something unspoken flickered between them, a tension that Y/N could sense but could not fully grasp.

Samira shot Y/N a quick glance, then raised an eyebrow in Eris’s direction. “You’ve got something to say, don’t you, Prince?”

Eris looked at her, then at Y/N, a flash of something in his eyes before he turned away, his lips twitching into a barely-there smirk. “No, not yet. Maybe later.” His tone was dry, but there was something more to it—something unreadable, a mix of frustration and something else.

Y/N couldn’t help but laugh softly, feeling a flicker of something in her chest, something both familiar and unsettling. “That’s a surprise,” she teased, crossing her arms. “Usually, you can’t stop yourself.”

His eyes flicked to hers, a challenge lingering in the air, but he didn’t respond, instead turning away with a muttered “Later,” before walking off to give orders to the captain.

Leone gave Y/N one last look, a meaningful glance that held unspoken words, before she turned and descended the gangplank, her regal figure retreating as she walked back to Montesere.

Once she was gone, Samira turned to Y/N, her smile warm but knowing. “I’ll go check on our rooms. You should take a moment before we depart.”

Y/N nodded absently, her gaze following Samira as she made her way toward the lower decks. The ship was slowly pulling away from the shore, the great vessel groaning as it shifted into motion. Y/N found herself drawn to the edge of the ship, her footsteps light as she made her way toward the railing, where the sprawling beauty of Montesere stretched out one last time before her.

She stood there for a moment, the wind tugging at her hair, the scent of saltwater filling her lungs. The sun was just beginning to rise fully, casting a warm golden glow over the waters and the land she had always known. It was so beautiful. So impossibly beautiful.

She never thought she would leave Montesere. A princess—yes, but never truly one in the eyes of her people. But as she stood there, watching the shoreline disappear into the distance, a strange feeling settled in her chest. A combination of fear, sadness, and something else—something she hadn’t quite put a name to.

Her mind was a whirlwind of thoughts, emotions, and questions. What if she had made the wrong decision? What if her mother couldn’t hold on? What if this plan, this new life, wasn’t what it seemed? What if she wasn’t strong enough to carry the weight of this responsibility?

But then a voice inside her whispered—you are strong enough. She had already come so far.

With a sigh, she let her eyes fall closed for a moment, letting the waves wash over her, the sounds of the world around her fading into a distant hum. The future was uncertain, but she had made her choice.

She opened her eyes, watching as the last glimpse of Montesere slipped away, the land now just a hazy silhouette on the horizon. The ship’s sails unfurled, catching the wind as it began to carry them farther, farther from everything she had ever known.

It’s over. The thought echoed in her mind, both a relief and a weighty burden. She had left her home, her life behind. But with it, she would forge something new.

As the ship sailed forward into the unknown, Y/N straightened, her heart still heavy but filled with determination. She wasn’t sure where this journey would take her, but one thing was certain—she would face whatever came next. With Samira at her side, and the plans they had carefully crafted, she was ready.

Whatever comes, I will not falter.

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Taglist: @batboyslutt @k-godling @littowl @jaybbygrl @kissesfromnovalie @talesofadragon @tele86 @annamariereads16 @circe143

[the-box-of-mine]

Melinda and demetrius: splitting and dissociation

Let's talk about how both Melinda and demetrius express different behaviours to cope with their situation, but also indicate how they both have clear mental health issues.

Starting with Meli, when we first met here with yor. In chapter 66, she was assuring yor that what happened between their kids is fine, but then she shut her up saying that she doesn't care about that.

And then the famous expression of her when she hoped that anya and damian stay friends.

Then there's the moment when she had a very conflicted thoughts about damian, this happened when damian mentioned their father.

Putting in mind the last chapters we saw her (106-110), why did she do this? We could always say that Demetrius is the way he is because he wants to protect his thoughts from his father, but why express these behaviours here from. At first I thought what happened to her in chapter 75 is her expressing hate toward donovan and projecting it into damian, but in both chapter 109 and 110 (also 106), she expressed fear rather than hatred, in fact, it's interesting the fact that she actually loved Donovan before his changing and expressed her anxiety of this.

I did see people jumping and saying that she does this to protect herself from Donovan, but I would argue that this is not the case with her. Also calling what she has a "second personality".

This is what I would call "splitting", it's an emotional instability state of conflicting emotions, seeing things as all white or black, going from instant like to instant hate, and when acting along this state, people around them get so confused or taken aback with this sudden change in behaviour. Splitting occurs in many different mental health issues, but the most well known disease for this state is borderline personality disorder (bpd), an excellent example/portrayal of this disorder in media is jinx from arcane.

I do see that Melinda had splitting, even expressing other signs of bpd.

Let's analyze her moment with damian at chapter 75.

She came to check on her dear son, she hugged him, and even commented on him crying. But then he mentioned his father, who isn't here. Here the split happened, her process was like, I checked up on you, not him, why are asking about him? Why are you not responding to the attention I'm giving you?

(ironically, many parts of the fandom think she loves him to the point of obsession)

In that moment, she saw him as the most cruel ugly thing that she encountered in her life, she wished he disappeared or died in the kidnapping, he is her curse, he is the reason why she is mesirable. But she loved him dearly, how not when this is her dear baby, her treasure, my god, she can't wait to go home to cook him a meal from her own hand.

This is how hard it is splitting, those thoughts and emotions are felt to the core in the person experiencing it, and it's very painful to experience.

I think Melinda does split on other people, like on yor in the first scene I mentioned and even donovan himself, her shifting from calling him (my husband) to (that man), but we really didn't see the core of her splitting other than damian (where anya was reading her mind at the moment). But also her splitting is always on her mind, she doesn't act strongly to it once.

This made me intrigued to know how is her relationship with demetrius, she finally mentioned him the first time in chapter 110 (she didn't ever do even in her mind), how he was saying that Donovan can read minds. I wonder if her mental health made barriers between them, aside from their situation with donovan obviously.

I hope melinda would heal, because it shows clearly how she cares for her family and wants the best for them, but is truly trapped.

What are your thoughts?

(This is the first part, in the second part I will talk about demetrius and his dissociation.)