#i’m still on a high from the announcement

[randomfoggytiger]

The X-Files: Scully's Pregnancy and Mulder's Abduction

(Extract from a larger meta I'm working on~.)

I’ve read elsewhere that it was speculated by fans-- nay, planned by the producers-- to kill Mulder off in Requiem’s finale. By the same token, I’ve seen echoing sentiment that Scully’s pregnancy was tacked on as a last-minute attention grab to green light Season 8. And while there may be degrees of truth to both ideologies, the facts presented reveal a different, more realistic truth: Scully’s conception was planned around the alien ship in Biogenesis-The Sixth Extinction (post here); and Mulder’s abduction, not death, was going to be filmed the same with or without an eighth season. 

Quoting Marc Shapiro’s book:

“Requiem” wrapped filming on May 5, 2000. The consensus was that the season finale was stark, bleak, and ultimately satisfying episode. But there still were no answers. 

“Nobody knew when we started that episode that we were coming back,” concludes Spotnitz. “Nobody knew it at the wrap party. It was a very odd wrap party. We were all saying, ‘This can’t be the end because it doesn’t feel right.’ It just didn’t feel like we had closure.” 

Shortly before “Requiem” aired, Fox announced that “The X-Files” would be back for an eighth season. David Duchovny had agreed to come back but would only appear in a total of eleven episodes….

That fact is repeated in other interviews, which also claim-- over and over-- that Scully’s pregnancy was definitively planned when The Sixth Extinction and Amor Fati were penned:

This May 2000 joint interview--

Did the producers shoot an alternative ending, as reported?

That`s just crazy talk, insists Carter: “I would have played it the same way whether [Duchovny] came back or not.” In fact, Carter says he`s been planning Mulder`s abduction and Scully`s pregnancy since the start of the season. “I thought it was a finale that would work for any eventuality. And because we had planned to do movies, I thought that would be a place to pick up with those things.”

Perhaps the alternative-ending rumors stem from the producers` clandestine high jinks: Because they wanted to keep the prenatal plot under wraps, the pregnancy scene wasn't revealed to the crew until the night it was shot. “The last page of the script was never published,” says Spotnitz. “That was a secret we were trying to hold as long as possible.”

--this July 2000 interview-- 

“I [Carter] had to write the season finale — which is called ‘Requiem’ — I had to write it without knowing whether or not we’d be back.” 

--this November 2000 interview--

We heard there were 2 possible endings for “Requiem”…can you tell us what the other ending we didn’t see was and how long before you filmed the episode did you decide to make Scully’s pregnancy an option?

"It was never an option, it was always the ending. I [Carter] just did not inform the actors or the crew that Scully’s pregnancy was going to be in the script. I had planned this for months with Frank Spotnitz and only delivered the script pages to Kim Manners — the director — and to Gillian and Mitch Pileggi minutes before they performed the scene. I’m just paranoid!" 

--this Frank Spotnitz December 2000 solo interview--

When was the decision made to pursue a storyline in which Scully becomes pregnant?

Spotnitz: "At the very beginning of season seven, we hit upon the idea and it seemed wonderful to us. There was beautiful symmetry to it. We knew that was our target all season, and so we did a number of things in episodes that would be tantalizing for fans who later were to look back at the episodes and try and figure out when Scully might have gotten pregnant and how. And that’s something we will continue to explore this season. But all questions will be answered by the end of the season, we promise." 

--and the information presented in previous sections of this post all bear up under the same narrative.

But potentially the most shocking bombshell of all, Spotnitz admitted in May 2008 that a pregnancy for Scully had been in the works since Season 5:

Q: When (the year or the season) did you plan the storyline about Scully’s pregnacy?

FS: We had thought about it for some time (at least since Season 5), but we didn’t definitely decide on Scully’s pregnancy until Season 7.

Although CC’s word is tentative at best, Spotnitz never wavers from honesty when asked a direct question; and I'm inclined to believe him.

But if neither are to be believed-- understandable-- then one glance at Amor Fati’s ending script should crush any remaining doubt: 

(More Amor Fati script bits can be found here.) 

A parallel with purposed intent. 

Is a pregnancy at odds with Scully's personality? No, I don't think so: she's open to having kids as early as The Jersey Devil and brings the subject up pointedly to Mulder in Home (post here.) She mourns her infertility in A Christmas Carol-- "I just never realized how much I wanted it until I couldn't have it"-- and grasps at an IVF chance in Per Manum's flashbacks (posts here and here.) The FBI itself is actually a considerably safe career, and quite supportive of their agents' familial obligations. The problem-- if one could call it that-- is The X-Files: an undeniably, astronomically unsafe and unstable career that is not conducive to family needs or structure... which the writers crafted purposefully, as will be discussed below.

Mulder wants a normal life just as much as Scully (@thursdayinspace's post here) but gave up those aspirations-- literally in The Jersey Devil-- in order to find his answers and unveil the Truth. His character arc and growth is a meta post all its own; but though his journey was concluded in Closure, his detachment from and transition away from the files didn't conclude until Season 8's Vienen. Be that as it may, he speaks about a wish to settle down in a place like Home and dreams about "another life, another world" with a wife and children and his sister, safe at last.

Why, then, does the baby arc feel so tacked on-- despite the roots of its conception (pun intended) tracing back to at least Season 5?

Surprise, surprise: the writing is a mess.

In March 2003, David Duchovny and Gillian Anderson were both glad the show was coming to a close. She gently hinted, “I think it’s good to finish now. We had a great run, but we’re getting out at the right time when the show is still a hit" while he blatantly asserted, “You cannot say it died anything but a natural death." No surprise, considering their excitement over Scully's pregnancy and Mulder's abduction were reduced to footnotes--

Tom Kessenich’s EXaminations:

...Anderson wasn't thrilled with the amount of attention the writers were lavishing on Doggett. ...she believed with Duchovny gone this would be her chance to step into the show's spotlight. Instead, the light shines on Doggett...

...Duchovny felt some frustration as well once he returned full-time for the final six episodes. In interviews after the season, he lamented the lack of resolution to Mulder's abduction and that Mulder was rendered into being a "peripheral" character.

...Duchovny also did not care for the paternity tease since it prevented him and Anderson from establishing any proper dramatic foreshadowing. The two stars were also reportedly unhappy the relationship between Mulder and Scully was not expired more fully since Duchovny planned to leave the series at the end of the season.

--and both had to begrudgingly accept, as parents, that their characters effectively abandoned (for his own good, we're told) William--

"Duchovny, Anderson, and Shiban (all parents) reportedly were not thrilled with the idea. They grudgingly consented only after Carter revealed his plan to end the series with Mulder and Scully on the run, hardly in the best position to raise a child."

What's worse, then and now, is: both agreed, largely, with the direction and decisions of the show heading into Season 8; and heavily disagreed with the direction and decisions of the show unfolding in Season 9. Not only was David and Gillian's interest in Scully's pregnancy and Mulder's abduction squandered, but their own characters' recovery and happy ending was swiftly destroyed not even a year later.

CONCLUSION

Thanks for reading~

Enjoy!

[hariboz]

always knew ot6 briize were stupid as fuck but seeing them pretend to care about the members NOW, when both sm and hani said in their statements that it was the members who encouraged him to keep going, to stay with them….i knowwwww it stings to realise that the members will always value hani more than your fake ot6 “support”, they don’t gaf about you 🤣🫵

[crossbackpoke-check]

it’s all the rest of what i want with you

connor dewar/brandon duhaime :: 8k

Summary:

“Brandon,” Connor says with a sigh. “There’s no baby in there.”

“Not yet,” Brandon says. Connor feels his stomach twist, almost like what he would imagine a baby kicking to feel like.

in these trying times of dewvorce, may i offer you 8k of pwp inspired by @stillfertile’s wonderful art which i had. several breakdowns about 🫶 anyway please enjoy!!!

[mrdrhenwardhykle]

Idc what I said before but don’t freaking mention Mario or Charles Martinet rn because I’m going to freaking sob if I hear another damn thing about that again

(Read original tags)

[ms-demeanor]

How to avoid sharing Social Media Scams in the Wake of a Disaster

The world is full of disasters. It is also full of people who have learned to profit off of disaster. It is an unfortunate fact of life in the modern social media/online environment that in order to avoid spreading scams, you have to make a continuous effort and you have to be cynical.

There are a lot of wonderful, well-meaning people in the world who want to help everyone who asks for it. Unfortunately, those people are easy to scam.

These are some rules to prevent you from either falling victim to scams or from passing scams along to other people.

These are not suggestions, these are not things to take into consideration, the rules listed here are RULES that you need to adopt in order to keep from spreading scams on social media.

Rules:

Never, ever share screenshots of fundraisers or resources that you haven’t verified yourself. If you see a screenshot of, say, the Antelope Valley Fairgrounds Instagram announcing that they will be accepting evacuees with RVs, you go find the Antelope Valley Fairgrounds website, you find the social media linked on their website, and you check that the post you’re seeing actually came from the entity it’s claiming to. Once you have proved that the post actually came from the entity it’s claiming to, double check that entity with a couple of verifiable sources. So, for instance, if I was checking on the Guitar Center Music Foundation I’d check Guitar Center’s website and maybe I’d look for news articles about donations from the foundation. If I was looking up the Antelope Valley Fairgrounds, I’d look for a local newspaper calendar of events that linked to the fairgrounds or would check the city websites in the area and search “fairgrounds” on them. I would not share a link to a social media page for an organization until I was 100% certain that it was actually associated with the organization. You shouldn’t either. If you see a post that claims to come from a specific group but all you have is the screenshot of the post, go find the group’s website and if it all checks out you may share it IF AND ONLY IF you add the link to the post. And if a post has a link already, click through it and STILL check that everything looks okay.

Never give money or information to someone with a free email address. This sucks. I know. But if the group you’re looking at only has a gmail address or a protonmail you have no way of knowing if they’re legitimately associated with the organization at a glance. And even if they ARE associated with the organization, the free email account demonstrates a lack of planning/commitment that has troubling implications for the handling of your money or data.

Do not share screenshots of “resources,” headlines, social media posts, or news articles. I’m done with screenshots. Screenshots are easy to fake and almost always remove context from the discussion. A standalone screenshot isn’t information, it’s a trap to get you to share something without thinking. Do not *trust* screenshots of “resources,” headlines, social media posts, or news articles. Always assume a screenshot is faked unless you have found the original post yourself. A screenshot isn’t a “resource” it is an un-source, it is intentionally removing information from the viewer and we are well past the time when people should have understood that sharing screenshots without a link to the original text in context is never, every trustworthy.

Do not give money or information to accounts without a history. This may mean individual social media accounts, or it may mean a shiny new mutual aid project that popped up near your house. It’s unfortunate that people have their accounts deleted, it’s unfortunate that new orgs have trouble finding support, but the likelihood that a new account is a scam is simply too high to trust your money or information with it. If someone is asking for money or offering help on an account that hasn’t posted for years, or that suddenly changed all its content, or that has only existed for a month with no links to other, older sites and socials, you shouldn’t trust that account.

Okay, those are the RULES. Those are the lines you draw in the sand. The TL;DR version is this:

Don’t share posts you haven’t personally verified

Don’t give money or information to accounts with generic email accounts like gmail

Don’t share or trust screenshots that have no links or further context

Don’t give info or money to brand new accounts

I absolve you of any guilt you have surrounding this. You want to share that post to help a stranger but they have only had an account for a week. You want to spread that resource, but unfortunately it is only available as screenshots of an anonymous instagram account. You think that perhaps that mutual aid group really can help people, but the only way contact them is to put your info into a google form and send an email to their gmail account. That post seems really helpful, but actually you can’t find anything that suggests that the Mt. Pacifico Aquatic Center exists outside of this twitter account. No more guilt! Guilt be gone! You do not have to feel bad for not sharing these things, or not reaching out, or not giving money because doing so would be irresponsible and would put other people at risk of being tricked by scammers or wasting what money they can donate on a potential fraud.

Now, some tips:

Always, always, always take at least ten minutes to think about giving someone money or your information online. Read the post that moved you, then re-read it, then go sit away from it for ten minutes and think about it. There’s a good chance you will still want to give, or sign up, but ten minutes away will give you a chance to consider if there are any red flags in the post that inspired you.

Independently search everything you’re going to share. Go outside of social platforms and check on search engines. Check Wikipedia. Look up the website and send a while clicking around. Go on a *different* social media platform and check their account.

Just straight up search “[SUBJECT] Scam” before you do anything. See if this thing you’re looking at is actually an old scam that’s revamped for a new disaster. See if you can find an explanation of how something might be a scam or risk in a way that you didn’t understand before.

Get used to getting away from social media. Go check websites.

Learn domain name syntax. “musicfoundationguit.arcenter.com” is a bullshit scam. “guitarcenterfounditaon.org” is a bullshit scam. “guitarcenter-foundation.org” is a bullshit scam. The actual domain is “guitarcenterfoundation.org” and the link to the correct page isn’t going to be “guitarcenter.foundationfires.org” it’s going to be “guitarcenterfoundation.org/fires”  

Tips for Orgs:

If you do not want your org to look like a scam you are going to have to put some effort into it. Unfortunately this will probably also require at least a little bit of money; I know it’s hard to get money together at the beginning, but it will pay off in the long run.

Invest in a domain and hosted email. You can get relatively inexpensive hosted email through most domain registrars and even if you only get one email address for your domain you can forward it to all the free gmail and protonmail accounts you want. But buy a domain, set up a simple website, and get an  info@[yourdomain].com email set up because you don’t want people emailing “MyOrgInfo@gmail.com” because it’s super fucking easy for a 1337 hax0r like me to set up “YourOrgTeam@gmail.com” and scam the people who want to reach out to you.

Make a blog on your actual website, not on a social media site. A blog means that you can make regular posts and establish a history to prove that you are real and you do real stuff; it will also help with SEO and help to ensure that when people search for your org YOU are what comes up. Keeping up calendars of previous activities with links to those activities is also good.

Set up social handles on all the sites you use, make a “socials” page on your website, and link to your handles so that people can verify if you’re the one posting something. If you don’t make it extremely easy to find your socials, that means it’s extremely easy to set up fake accounts claiming to be you. Then put the link to your website in the bio on your socials.

If you are offering something or holding a fundraiser or doing anything on your social media page, link it back to your website. If you have an IG post offering resources, you should include a url for your site in each image. If you share a photo on twitter with the info for a march, that should link back to your website with more info about the march. If you post a fundraiser on tumblr you need to link the fundraising page of your website on that post.

If you absolutely positively cannot set up a website and a real-ass email address, set up a linktree, choose a primary social media to post on that all the others refer back to, and very explicitly state what your email address is and that you do not have other email addresses somewhere that's difficult to miss. Build a history of posts and link to other orgs that you work with or any writeups or stories about your events or projects. The point of all of this is making yourself easy to verify. "northfullertonfnb@gmail.com" sucks but it sucks a lot less if it's in the bio of "@northfulltertonfnb" and that page has a two year history of posting meal share schedules and menus.

In conclusion, don't share things that you haven't personally checked. When in doubt, it is always safer not to share.

[whorelaud]

pornstar!rafe fucking staff!reader in the bathroom during filming break warnings smut, unprotected p in v, bathroom sex, creampies, slight degradation & praise 

Three minutes. The announcement made you clench around Rafe’s cock, chasing after your climax as it builds with each time the latter buckles his hips inside you. Your fingers seeked his shoulders, holding him close while he still thrusts into you, attention fixed on his sweaty figure as it slams onto yours.  

“Hurry, we’re going to get caught.” You warned, throwing your head back when Rafe’s hand cupped one of your tits, taking it in his hold as he rolled your now hardened nipple in between his fingers, admiring the way you squirmed underneath him; rolling your hips up to chase after the fraction. “Rafeeee ‘please.” 

“Such a fucking slut.” He grunted, inserting his fingers in your mouth, a mere attempt of blocking your muffled whines from getting you caught. Don’t get him wrong, he loves hearing you moan his name while he fucks you senseless, the thrill of knowing others could walk in at any given moment, well aware you’d let him continue, desperate to have his cock inside you, however, he wasn't risking it, not when this bond was forbidden, out of the picture. “Look at you, moaning my name like I fuckin’ own you, huh? You’ve been eyeing me this whole time, couldn't wait to have my dick inside you, did you?”

You nod in response, unable to coherent a proper sentence without crumbling in his hold; though his fingers were part of the reason why. You pressed your back to the wall, wrapping your legs firmly around his waist, the gesture causing Rafe to fasten his pace, his thrusts instantly growing sloppy inside you. You would've fully screamed, if not for the digits in your mouth. 

You couldn't believe this was happening, Rafe?

You’ve been working under Rafe’s management for a bit over a year now, wanting nothing more than to get a taste of him, admire from afar in hopes of ever having his cock inside you, knees growing weak each time he’d brush past you, as you later found yourself in your bed, pumping your fingers into your soaked cunt, wishing it was his throbbing cock instead. 

And now, it was finally happening, as Rafe dragged you to the bathroom, giving you no time to process the situation before his cock was pulsing inside you, filling up your insides as your hole swallows his length whole. A whine muffled its way out of your throat, digging your nails into the blade of his shoulders, when you felt your orgasm building up. 

“I’m close.” You announced, breath heaving when Rafe’s hips slammed into you, thumb trailing down to your core, with the intention of finding your clit. He rubbed circles to your nub, smirking when you grew sensitive in his hold. 

“Think you can handle it, hmm?” Rafe questioned, teeth grazing over the lobe of your ear. “Want me to cum inside you and make a mess out of your needy pussy, baby? You' gonna walk out there with my cum inside you?” 

“Rafe please.” You mewled, “Jus’ do it.”

That’s all it took before Rafe was cumming inside you. The latter buckled his hips into your cunt, groaning as your legs trembled in his arms, announcing your orgasm in the process. Your heavy breaths were the only thing heard as you came down from your high, slowly fluttering your eyes open to meet Rafe’s. He was already staring at you, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips upon seeing your flustered expression. 

“We’re fucked if the director finds out, you know that?” You whispered, shying away from Rafe’s gaze. 

“Oh, I know.” He emphasized on the ‘know’, leaning down to plant a soft kiss to your lips. “You’re lucky I love your pussy, baby. I’m willing to sacrifice my job for you.” 

“Do you say that to every girl you fuck?” 

[kateschi]

silent watcher, louder heart

synopsis: there’s something about the way you move, the way you hold your daughter, that leaves katsuki wordless.

pairing: timeskip!bakugou katsuki x f!reader

⊹ ࣪ ˖ notes: nothing makes me happier than dad bakugou and happy new year everyone

the soft rustling of leaves outside filters through the cracked window, mingling with the faint cries of a baby—your baby.

the sun dips low in the sky, casting a warm, golden hue across the living room, where you sit cross-legged on the floor, gently cradling your child.

the sight is mesmerizing, even to him—a man who’s seen explosions tear through buildings, fire rip apart the darkness, and yet nothing compares to this.

katsuki leans against the doorway, arms crossed over his chest, his sharp crimson eyes fixed on you and your baby.

he doesn’t say anything—doesn’t even clear his throat to announce his presence.

he just stands there, silent and steady, watching.

your fingers move deftly, smoothing out the soft folds of your baby’s blanket. your voice is a quiet murmur, a melody only meant for the tiny ears that listen so intently.

“there you go, sweetie. all cozy now, aren’t you?” she gurgles in response, kicking little legs as if to agree.

you giggle softly, the sound light and airy, and katsuki feels something in his chest tighten.

it’s been months since the two of you brought this tiny human into the world, but he still isn’t used to the sight of you like this—radiant, tender, an embodiment of warmth and care.

he doesn’t think he’ll ever get used to it. not that he’d ever say it out loud.

“y/n,” he finally says, his voice gruff but not unkind. “you’re spoilin’ her, y’know.”

you glance up, startled at first, but the sight of your husband leaning in the doorway makes your lips curve into a smile.

“and who exactly taught me how to spoil her, huh? wasn’t it you, bakugou katsuki, who bought her that ridiculously overpriced onesie with the baby dynamight logo?”

he scowls, the tips of his ears turning red. “that was different.”

“of course it was.” your teasing tone makes him bristle, but he doesn’t move. he stays rooted in place.

d/n lets out a small coo, her tiny hand reaching up to grab at the air. you shift her in your arms, guiding her chubby fingers toward one of her toys.

she babbles happily, her eyes wide and curious, and katsuki feels his heart stutter.

how the hell did he end up here—married to you, father to this perfect little bundle of energy?

“she’s gettin’ big,” he mutters, stepping into the room.

his heavy boots make the wooden floor creak, and he almost winces, instinctively lightening his steps as he approaches.

“she is,” you agree, not taking your eyes off your little girl. “she’s growing so fast. I feel like I’ll blink, and she’ll already be running around, causing trouble.”

katsuki snorts, settling down onto the couch. “if she’s causin’ trouble, that’s definitely your fault.”

“oh, really? because I’m the troublemaker in this relationship?” you glance at him, raising an eyebrow.

“damn right, you are.” he leans back, arms draped over the backrest, but his eyes stay on you.

“don’t think I’ve forgotten how you were always stirrin’ shit in high school. sneakin’ into the common room to steal snacks, callin’ me an idiot every time I told you to quit it.”

“hella ironic coming from you house-arrest, and I wasn’t stirring anything,” you protest, feigning innocence. “I was keeping life interesting.”

his brow twitches. “yeah, well, you’re passin’ that on to her,” he says, nodding toward the baby. “she’s got your attitude, y’know.”

“oh, so now she’s my responsibility when she’s being difficult?”

“she’s always your responsibility,” he shoots back, smirking. “you’re the one who decided to marry me, remember? you signed up for this.”

you roll your eyes, but there’s no heat behind it. “and yet, somehow, you’ve manage to make it worth it.”

the corners of katsuki’s mouth twitch, the beginnings of a smile threatening to break through.

but instead of replying, he focuses on d/n, who’s now clutching her toy with surprising determination.

“she’s strong,” he says, his voice softer. “got a good grip for a runt.”

“she gets that from you,” you reply, brushing a kiss against your baby girl’s forehead. “I think she’s going to take after you in a lot of ways.”

“hope not,” he mutters, his gaze clouding for a moment. “don’t want her growin’ up with my temper.”

you frown, sitting up straighter. “katsuki—”

“don’t,” he cuts you off, shaking his head. “I’m just sayin’. she’s better off with your patience.”

you pause, studying him carefully. for all his bluster, katsuki has always been his own harshest critic. he sees himself as flawed, rough around the edges.

but you’ve never seen him that way—not for a second.

“she’ll have the best of both of us,” you say firmly, holding his gaze. “and she’ll be okay because she has you as her dad.”

he doesn’t respond right away, his eyes flicking down to d/n instead. she’s staring at him now, her big, innocent eyes locked on his face.

katsuki reaches out, hesitating for just a moment before gently brushing a finger against her tiny hand. she grabs it immediately, her grip surprisingly strong, and he lets out a quiet chuckle.

“feisty little thing,” he hums.

he then leans back against the couch, watching as you lift her onto your shoulder, patting her back in a soothing rhythm.

she lets out a small yawn, her tiny body relaxing against you, and katsuki feels that familiar warmth spreading through his chest.

it’s moments like these that remind him why he fights so damn hard—why he throws himself into battle with everything he’s got.

because at the end of the day, he gets to come home to this.

to you. to her. to a life he never dared to dream of.

kofi — navigation — masterlist

do not copy, translate, or plagarize

[thebearer]

nothing in the world belongs to me |carmen berzatto x reader|

prompt: still new in your relationship, you show up to the bear for dinner unexpectedly, surprising carmen and the others.

based off this prompt from the other day :)

contains: fluff lol. really, it's just fluff. established-ish relationship (the others don't know). carmen being a little nervous and possessive but mainly cute <3 language.

“Alright, listen up,” Richie stood next to Sydney, flicking through the piles of tickets that were ringing through by the second. It was normal now, an expected task in their routine. “We need to walk the focaccia to table seven, please.” 

“Yes, Chef!” A chorus of nearly robotic voices rose from the sizzling hiss of the lamb searing in Carmen’s pan, lifting the spatula to tip the meat over, before giving it back to the chef on the line. 

“And for table nine, we’ve got a shellfish allergy, alright? So let’s triple check the cross contamination on that. T, can you handle that one?” Richie moved from his leather bound book of notes back to the ticket. 

“Yes, Chef!” Tina chimed, pulling a freshly washed pan, filling it with the veal stock. 

“Table nine, is that- that’s the senator?” Carmen turned to Richie, tasting the roux bubbling on Victoria’s station, giving her a curt nod of approval. 

“No, that’s table eleven.” Richie hummed, looking back at his notebook. “Nine, is… a birthday. Booked online.” Carmen had already begun to drone him out, mind racing with a million other things as Richie listed the guests name. Until he got to one. 

The name Carmen was sure he was hallucinating. The name no one knew- How would they know? How could they possibly know your name? 

You and Carmen had been seeing each other for a little while. A few weeks that were slowly turning into months. A casual thing that was slowly turning more serious. Dates and meetups are becoming more frequent. You’d even invited him over to your place a few times, he’d spent the night last week. 

Still, Carmen hadn’t managed to tell anyone. Selfishly, he liked that you were all his for now. Privacy was not guaranteed in the Berzatto house, in Carmen’s life still. He knew they meant well, they always did- he knew it wasn’t purposeful, the intrusion that almost always led to a demise. Carmen wasn’t ready for it, not yet, he still wanted you all to himself. 

“Carmen?” Sydney’s voice pulled him out of his panicked trance. “Chef, are you- are you good?” Her voice lilted with that familiar suspicious quip, the one always accompanied with her lifted brows. 

“What?” Carmen blinked, hands buzzing, heart thumping. He could see the window, Richie’s frame blocking most of it. “Sorry, yeah- yeah, I’m good, Chef.” 

Sydney watched him carefully, a slow nod before she continued calling out orders. Carmen could feel Richie’s eyes on him, narrowed with curiosity. Carmen tried to be nonchalant, crossing the kitchen back towards Tina, his eyes cutting carefully, looking out the window. 

There you were. 

Sitting pretty at the middle table, surrounded by friends, some Carmen recognized from your Instagram. He’d actually logged in to the app, looked you up after the first date, consumed every photo of yours in the dark of his room. Cheeks burning with excited heat, stomach fluttering in a way he hadn’t felt since junior high. 

“Alright, walk five salads to nine.” Sydney called out. “Where’s our runners? God, Richie, can you run-” 

“-I got it.” Carmen called, the urgency in his tone making Tina jump behind him. Carmen took the tray before Gary could, his hands shaking as he lifted it. 

“Cousin, I can get it.” Richie frowned. 

“No, I-I got it.” Carmen nodded, swallowing down his fluttering nerves. His eyes cut to your table through the window, heart skipping when he saw you. “I got it. I’ll be- I’ll just be a second.” 

“I don’t- I can’t even handle that one right now.” Sydney sighed in exasperation. “Alright, Chefs. Let’s get back on track.” She announced, shaking her head. Richie frowned, pulling out his phone. 

Sugar’s cell buzzed against the hostess stand, excusing herself to check it. 

From: Richie 

‘Look at table nine.’ 

Sugar huffed. 

To: Richie 

‘Why? Is there something wrong?’ 

She stepped back, casually turning to scan the room, eyes landing on the table. A small group of girls, younger, and amongst them- Carmen? 

To: Richie 

‘Is something wrong with the food? Do I need to comp it?’ 

From: Richie 

‘No. Cousin wanted to go out there.’ 

Sugar frowned, angling her body behind the large plant near the front as casually as she could. She watched through the leaves as Carmen passed out the salads, each girl grinning widely, but their eyes always cut to one on the end. 

Carmen saved your salad for last, hoping the lowlights of the restaurant would hide his boyish blush, setting the bowl in front of you carefully. “Hey,” 

“Hi,” You smiled sheepishly, looking to meet his gaze. “Everything looks so good.” 

“Yeah? Thanks.” Carmen nodded. “I-I didn’t know you were comin’ tonight.” 

“I’m sorry.” You cringed softly, embarrassed heat flooding through your veins. You knew better, knew you shouldn’t have done this- showed up at his restaurant unannounced. 

“I, uh, it’s my friend’s birthday.” You nodded towards Alicia at the end of the table. “And I was telling them about that pasta you made me, and they really wanted to come try it.” Your nerves bubbled, rambling in nervous peals that seemed to pour out before you could stop them.  

“Yeah, no, that’s really nice. Thank you.” Carmen nodded, giving a half smile to your friends, hoping they didn’t see the way he wiped his clammy hands on his apron. “Why didn’t- Why didn’t you just call me? Tell me you were comin’ in.” 

“I didn’t want to bother you.” You muttered softly. “I honestly didn’t think you’d even see us here, I swear. I didn’t mean to bother you or anything-” 

“-You’re not bothering me.” Carmen’s voice dropped to a coo, accompanied with a soft smile that had your head spinning. “Never a bother, but, uh, next time? Bother me, ok? Wanna make sure you get the best seat in the house.” 

Your cheeks flushed with heat, your friends excited giggles only intensifying the rushing heat blanketing over your body. Carmen’s own cheeks heated, tongue rolling on the inside of his cheek to hide his grin. 

“Alright?” Carmen added, and in a complete act of shocking boldness, his hand squeezed your shoulder affectionately. A small gesture on the outside, but for Carmen, it was huge. 

“Alright.” You grinned, leaning into his touch, your hands sliding over his. 

“How’s everything so far?” Carmen turned to the table, nodding at the excited gushes of compliments, not missing the way your friends cut their eyes to you with animated glee. 

“Just let me know if you need anything, ok?” Carmen turned to you.

“I will.” You nodded, starry eyed with love sick affection. 

“Good. I’ll see you before you leave, alright?” Carmen muttered, ducking down towards you. His lips brushed over your cheek, your perfume clouding his senses. “You’re not botherin’ me. ‘M glad you’re here.” 

Your cheek pressed to his, a gentle, affectionate rub before Carmen parted. Both of your features painted with shy delight. 

Carmen could feel everyone’s eyes, through flickering gazes and lifted brows. Sydney’s gaze lingering over him skeptically, still counting tickets. Fak’s wide grin from the corner, loading trays to take out. 

“Hey, uh, Marcus.” Carmen ignored Richie’s raised brows, a teasing, questioning remark on the tip of his tongue. 

“Yes, Chef?” Marcus muttered, looking up from the cannolis he was garnishing. 

“Table nine has a birthday. I was thinkin’ maybe the chocolate ganache, punch it with the little circle to make it look like a cake. Add a candle?” Carmen muttered, hand rubbing across his face. 

“Yeah, Chef, I can do that.” Marcus nodded. 

“Thank you.” Carmen nodded. “And Chef? Let me know when it’s ready before you walk it.” 

Marcus frowned. “No, it’s not- I just wanna walk it, ok?” Carmen shook his head. 

“Alright.” Marcus nodded slowly. “Heard, Chef.” 

Richie smirked, leaning against the stainless steel table. “So,” Richie hummed. “There a complaint or somethin’? Need me to go talk to ‘em-” 

“-No,” Carmen snapped, the possessiveness in his tone startling the both of them. “Sorry, it’s- No, I-I don’t need you to do that, Chef. Everything’s good.” 

Richie nodded slowly, passing the dishes to Gary with a nod. “You gonna tell me what that was about?” 

“No, Chef.” Carmen clipped, an edge to his tone that was teetering on annoyed. “But, uh, there’s not gonna be a check on table nine.” 

“What?” Richie frowned. “Did you mess somethin’ up? Seriously, Cousin, if something's wrong it’s my job to know-” 

“-No, it’s not-.” Carmen huffed, eyes pinching closed, running a hand over his face in frustration. “Look, that’s… The girl on the end? I-I’ve been kinda seein’ her, ya know?” He muttered. 

Richie gawked, blinking in disbelief. “No shit.” He grinned. “No shit? You-You’re serious?” He turned to look out the window. 

“Don’t fuckin’ look.” Carmen hissed. “Look, it-it’s not a big deal, alright? Just don’t-don’t say anything o-or do anything.” 

Richie swallowed back a teasing remark, a reactive reaction from years of being with Mikey. How the two of them used to tease Carmen endlessly, until they were fighting on the front lawn, Mikey howling with laughter while Carmen was red faced with mortified anger. 

This time, Richie held back. He wasn’t sure why, call it divine intervention, a gut feeling maybe, but it felt different this time. 

“Alright.” Richie nodded slowly. “No ticket for nine. Heard.” 

Carmen’s foot tapped anxiously. “I mean, right? Th-That’s what I should do right?” Carmen looked over his shoulder out the window. “That would be shitty to give her a check? Be a complete jagoff move to charge her?” 

“Yeah,” Richie scoffed lightly. “Jagoff of the fuckin’ year. Makin’ your girl pay to come to your place.” 

Carmen’s heart swelled at the term- your girl. His girl. You were his girl. 

“Walk four Pappardelle to nine. Walk one Pappardelle vegetarian style to nine.” Sydney called. 

Carmen dipped the spoon in the glaze, garnishing the plate before sliding it towards Sydney. “So, you gonna take these out?” He muttered. 

“No,” Carmen huffed. “Gonna wait until the cake.” 

“Yeah, good idea, Cousin.” Richie nodded with a proud smile. “That when you’re gonna tell them no check tonight?” 

“No,” Carmen shook his head. “I don’t- It would feel weird comin’ from me.” He looked up at Richie. “I was gonna let you do it.” 

“Yeah, I can handle that.” Richie smirked. “And I won’t say anything, Cousin.” He stopped Carmen before he could say it. “I got you, Cousin. I won’t fuck it up, alright?” 

Carmen nodded slowly, a strangled thank you on the tip of his tongue. The door swung open behind Richie, and for a second, Carmen caught a glimpse of you. Smiling and laughing, leaned in over the table, no doubt giggling with your friends about him. Carmen’s heart squeezed, but this time, without fear. No, there was no dooming fear that you were mocking him, making fun of him. This time, he felt the content rush of adrenaline filled love. A change in his routine, yes. Unexpected, sure, but he was glad for it. Glad that you were there- here, with him.

[starkwlkr]

girl, so confusing | f1

an: might make this two or three parts, not sure yet but oh well <3 love y’all THIS IS AN AU WHERE ALL THE F1 DILFS ARE SINGLE

faceclaim gisele bündchen

part 2 part 3

liked by maxverstappen1, aussiegrit and others

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yourusername hey there stranger

jensonbutton stranger? you’re breaking my heart, baby

sebastianvettel miss you lots!

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ferraridepressionclub y/n fr has all the dilfs in her comments i wanna be like her when i grow up

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INTERVIEW WITH Y/N L/N | VOGUE

In conversation with Y/n L/n about being a mother and a racing driver, and her what’s in store for her.

Known for her fierce driving and even fiercer spirit, has seamlessly transitioned into a life that’s as complex as it is rewarding. A name that echoes through the halls of motorsport history, her story is one of reinvention—a journey from high-speed thrills to quiet, profound moments of motherhood, and, possibly, a return to the racing world in an entirely new role.

The 2000s were Y/n’s golden years at Williams. Her raw talent shone even when the team’s fortunes dipped, and she quickly became a fan favorite. Known for her courage, sharp wit, and stunning moves on the track, she formed friendships with some of the sport's brightest stars—Mark Webber, Sebastian Vettel, and Jenson Button. Their bond, a cocktail of camaraderie and unspoken attraction, became as legendary as her driving.

But the glamorous world of F1, with its dazzling lights and high expectations, took a toll. In 2004, Williams made the decision to drop her from their roster—a move that would alter the course of her life forever. Y/n, at the time, found solace in the chaos. Late nights, parties, and the company of friends became her refuge.

"I wasn’t ready to let go of F1, but at that point, I wasn’t sure where I was headed." Y/n said as we chat in her London home. It’s a beautiful house with stained glass windows and the perfect amount of sunlight shining in. Her daughter is also present though she much prefers to continue with her reading as she cuddles up to her mother.

But in the unpredictable world of racing, the story of Y/n was far from over. A fresh start beckoned when McLaren offered her a seat, a move that many saw as her redemption arc. She embraced the opportunity, her focus sharper than ever. The partying ceased. The cigarettes were put out. It wasn’t just a return to the sport—it was a return to herself.

Her career, marked by precision and passion, came to an official close in 2014, but Y/n’s influence has never waned. Retirement, though, didn’t equate to slowing down. Today, Y/n is a mother—something that’s become a cornerstone of her identity.

“I’ve always been independent, but being a mom has redefined what it means to be strong," she says, her eyes softening. "It’s a different kind of challenge, but one I’m grateful for every single day.”

Her daughter, now nine, was born a year after her retirement. She had announced the birth on her social media with a simple caption: “welcome to the world, my beautiful girl”

“As a mom, I’ve learned the art of balancing," Y/n reflects. "There are days when I’m just a mom—no racing, no interviews, no drama. And then there are days when I’m reminded of who I was before all of this. It's about finding peace with both versions of myself.”

At this point, her daughter stops reading her book and places several kisses on her mother’s cheek. It was a beautiful moment between mom and daughter.

“The future is full of possibilities. I’m focused on what’s next, but I'm not in any rush. We’ll see what happens. Right now, I’m the happiest I’ve ever been.”

Motherhood may have softened some edges, but it has only sharpened her focus. If there’s one thing Y/n has taught us, it’s that the greatest drivers are those who can keep pushing, even when they’re driving toward the unknown.

INTERVIEW WITH Y/N | THE PADDOCK SESSIONS PODCAST

“Welcome everyone to the paddock sessions podcast. I’m your host Dan and todays guest is a very special one. She is my favorite driver and I’m going to try not to freak out right now. Y/n L/n welcome to the paddock sessions!” Dan the host said into his microphone.

Y/n smiled and thanked Dan for the introduction. “Favorite driver? Dan, I’m flattered. I’ll pay you later.” She joked.

“You’re actually the reason my girlfriend watches formula 1. She watched your past races and was devastated when I told her you retired in 2014. I think she was thinking of breaking up with me because I told her,” Dan admitted. Y/n chuckled at his words. “But can we see a potential comeback for you? I know I’m not the only one that would love to see that!”

“Well I can’t really stay away from formula 1. I try to watch the races with my daughter, but she’s not interested in racing at all so I always end up watching them alone.” Y/n explained as she adjusted the microphone.

“Daughter of a racing driver isn’t interested in racing? That’s wild. But at least she knows that her mom is a legend in the sport, yeah?” Dan asked.

“She’s reminded every time we go out and I’m stopped because someone wants an autograph or a picture,” Y/n laughs. “But she knows the basics, she knows what all the number means, she’s a smart girl.”

“Amazing. Um, on the topic of your daughter, and you can stop me if you want, you’ve always been an open book in many ways, yet when it comes to your daughter’s father, you’ve kept things private. How hard has it been to keep things like that private? I imagine it must be frustrating.”

Y/n nodded and cleared her throat. “I’ve always believed in protecting my daughter’s privacy, and for me, that extends to the people closest to us. I’ll say this: my daughter is incredibly lucky to have the most amazing father. He’s the kind of dad who would do anything to keep her safe and happy. I know she’s growing up in a secure and loving environment because of him. He’s protective, but in the best way possible.”

“Have you seen the tweets regarding it?” Dan asked curiously.

“Oh yeah, it’s all over my feed. I’ve actually read some pretty crazy shit about the father of my daughter.” Y/n said.

“Any favorites?”

“There’s a thread that was posted recently on why Lewis is the father of my daughter. I love Lewis, but I can confirm he is not. He’s actually the godfather.”

“Well, you heard it hear first folks!”

[shrenvents]

Professor Howlett

Warnings: Minors dni, smut, no protection, fingering, vaginal, doggy, pet names, squirting, age gap (legal!)

Pairing: Logan Howlett/Wolverine x Student (Mutant) reader

Summary: Your history professor always seemed uninterested in you, that was until you missed his class.

Word count: 2.7k

…

Throughout high school I’ve always kind of stood out. To be honest, I only have myself to blame. Bright colours and statement pieces are just so much more appealing, than wearing something ‘plain.’ Unfortunately, I did more than just “stand out” that day, just three weeks away from senior graduation. That fateful day, I was so close to the finish line, before my stupid ex-boyfriend discovered my secret, and outed it to the entire student body.

I’m a mutant…

That’s what led me across the coast, for most of the past year, running from god knows what. I heard the stories of mutants being hunted and gone missing, and I didn’t intend to stick around long enough, that I wouldn’t at least make it to my 20th birthday.

However, my days of swindling folks of cash and food came to a halt, when I spotted a man with red-tinted glasses watching me. His invested gaze observed my every movement, so I grabbed all my shit, and the last bit of petty change I managed to get, and sprinted into a crowd.

Just as I thought I was in the clear, my face collided with a colossal, firm chest. I pressed the heels of my palms into it, and felt the cotton of his white shirt, and the rough, yet smooth texture of his worn-in, leather jacket.

Logan Howlett, or should I say, Mr. Howlett, my history Professor... After he and Scott captured me, they dragged me by the ankles to their school for the “gifted.” I cringed when they said where we were headed, but once I arrived and saw all the kids, like me, going about their lives, free, I knew everything would be more than okay.

And one thing I knew for sure, is that I wouldn’t mind attending Mr. Howlett’s class. Did I know jack-shit about history, yes. But I’ve always had a thing for the older guy, and from what I’ve heard, he’s more than enough in that department.

...

This morning, racing out of my room, I swore profusely at my tardiness... Just my luck. The one day that week I get to see and listen to Logan talk for an hour straight, my alarm malfunctions.

Multitasking between attempting to put on my hot-pink heels, wrapping my sparkly bag over my shoulder, and shutting my door, I missed the approaching figure behind me.

“It’s past 11 am, where do you think you’re headed?” I swivel on my toes, spinning to face Storm. “Class?”

“The only class you have left today kid, is at 2. You’ve managed to miss the rest already,” she scolds flatly.

“Noooo,” I fake astonishment and defeat, as I slowly back away from Storm's scrutinizing stare. She calls my name after I’ve taken at least two large steps backward. “Logan wants to see you,” she states, exasperated.

“Oh?” I straighten out, stopping my next step short. “Ok!” I exclaim, a little too perky. She huffs a faint smirk and walks off, and I take flight, zooming to Logan’s class, where he’s most likely dozed off.

Lo and behold, after knocking once and receiving no response, I open the door to see him snoring. With his legs fully extended, and feet resting on his desk, I bask in his lengthy physic. I giggle and then go towards him.

Mr. Howlett?” I say, clearing my throat loudly, he grunts in his sleep and I smile. “Mr. Howlett?” I say even sweeter. A second later, I swear he mumbles my name and my heart stutters, but he’s still sleeping. I move in closer to his ear. “Logan,” I announce rigidly, and my change in tone makes him flinch, legs falling off the table, eyes popping open.

He rasps my name, voice echoing through the classroom. I refused to move away from my position, wanting to seem unaffected by him, but I was anything but. With his lazy eyes roaming over my skin, my heart races wildly. He clears his throat, and rolls his eyes away after taking in my attire, as he usually does —gives me a once-over, and rolls his eyes back to his focus on his lecture.

“You missed class, that isn’t like you,” he notes, almost to himself.

“Yes and I’m sorry-“

“I hope it wasn’t because you were too busy picking that outfit.” Logan scoffs and my eyes widen. He’s always made snarky comments, and this wasn’t anything new, but every time he does, I can’t help the boiling feeling in my lungs, that makes me rise to defend myself. “No, maybe I just felt like sleeping in?” I declare. A short-lived chuckle escapes him. “And you’re just gonna admit to that?” He smirks as he faces me. “I don’t like kids skipping my class.”

“First off, I’m an adult, second, you don’t care when kids skip your class,” I retort, with a growing smile, beaming across my face. Though, his complimentary smile, drops as mine comes to full form. He’s never seemed fond of my smile, or maybe it’s just me.

“You don’t skip my class.” He states once again, and my head quirks in confusion. “Um, I’m sorry?” I compromise, “It won’t happen again.”

“It better not,” He remarks dangerously. My brows furrow.

“Okay, I don’t get why it matters so much to you Mr. Howlett.” I place my hands on my hips, gazing down at him in his chair like I'm reprimanding a child. Which he is not akin to.

He lifts from his chair, standing up. I gasp as he towers over me. “Watch your tone, or I’ll fail ya,” he counters, fighting a smirk, staying stoic. “What?” I yelp and his smirk breaks through. My jaw goes slack. “Mr. Howlett, that’s not funny!”

“What’s not funny, is you pretending like calling me 'Mr. Howlett,' doesn’t turn you on.”

I freeze in disbelief. Was this one of my daydreams? Am I really awake right now?

“You heard me, you damn highlighter,” he asserts. “Call me Logan for fucks sake, if you’re a damn adult.” His scratchy voice loses its humour, and I stay frozen to the spot. “Get outta here, would ya,” Logan orders as he leisurely retakes his seat, getting comfortable for his next nap.

Unable to drag myself away, my eyes refocus on the subject of my desires. “Why do I have such a thing for assholes.”

Before Logan can respond angrily, I sit on his lap, dropping my purse to the floor, and straddling his hips. I cup his perplexed face and crash our mouths together, moulding them into one. He grunts in surprise as if he didn’t expect me to retaliate, as if he didn’t expect that I would want him this way.

He half-heartedly pulls away between kisses, whispering my name in small protests, but he gets muffled by my lips and grinds on his lap. Quickly, his objections turn into fierce groans. He takes my hips into his hands, tightly gripping into my flesh as he pushes me back, onto his desk. I whimper as his crotch stays glued to my core, even as we move. One hand then moves from my hip to my neck, holding it, then slowly sliding to my jaw, grasping it in a hungry, pressing kiss. His tongue laps my mouth, completely dominating me, and I struggle to breathe.

Just as I’m about to pull away to comment on how desperate he seems, his other hand flips me over with ease. My stomach is now on top of his desk, his crotch, like iron against my ass, and his hands trace down from my shoulder blades, to my bum. With my head hung over the desk, I pant, practically drooling.

“You’re asking for detention pinky,” he mutters, and I respond by pushing back into his hard cock. “I'm a sucker for extra attention teach,” I mention, as sensually as I could muster. He chuckles lowly, and I shudder. The pressure of his dick doesn’t change, and his hands continue their unhurried venture of me. “You like attention?” Logan questions, his tone surprisingly soft. His tone makes me shiver and whimper, yet again.

“I like yours.”

“Just mine?” He questions darkly, telling me he doesn’t actually want any opposition. “Yes,” I whisper.

His voice drops an octave as he swears, rolling his hips into me once. I moan loudly. “Shhhh princess, you tryna alert the entire building?” He asks with amusement evident. I shake my head, no, and he laughs by my ear as he dips down. “Good, because I don’t like sharing your attention,” he says passively. “And I’d like to be the only ‘asshole,’ that gets to see what’s under these ridiculous clothes.”

“Hey!” I object meekly. I feel him smile as he leans away from my ear, and I turn my head over my shoulder to watch him peer down at where our bodies meet. “You probably want me to fuck you on this desk.” He speaks as though I’m not there to hear him. “Ya probably want to be taken here so that every time you’re sitting in my class, you can imagine me deep inside you.” He trails off as his hand pushes up my shirt, touching my lower back.

“But we can’t do that,” he sighs hoarsely.

“Why?” My reply is so quick that I grimace.

“Because, if we did, I’d be hard every time I’m in this fucking room, and that ain’t the smartest idea.” I moan at his crudeness and gasp when he pecks my naked spine, just below my bra clip. “Even your lingerie is pink huh?” He laughs smoothly. “Imagined it would be.” My legs rub together instinctively at his words.

“You imagined it?”

He pauses. “Hell yeah I did, though I tried to fight it,” he muses in between a groan. “It didn’t take me long to figure you wanted this too, princess,” he murmurs pleasantly.

After a long beat of silence and a little grinding, I speak up. “So now what? If you’re not going to make love to me here.”

He slowly pushes the hair over my face, behind my ear, tilting my head to face him just a bit. He then leans down and kisses me on the cheek.

“I’ll come to you,” is all Logan says as he reluctantly wrenches himself from me, after giving my ass cheek a mild slap. I yelp and nearly pout at the loss of touch. We hold eye contact as he backs away. “Get going, otherwise you’ll be late,” he comments airily. I nod and scurry out the room, with a grin plastered on my face.

...

After a long, vigorous rest of the day. I collapse into my plushy bed with a sigh.

“Took you long enough,” a dark voice rings, with a hint of familiar sass. I jolt up to see Logan leaning on my wardrobe. His tight shirt is further strained when his arms cross. “Been waiting to ‘make love' to ya all day,” he claims, with a mocking tone, repeating my "childish" words from earlier. My best guess is that he assumes I’m a virgin, from that sentence alone.

So, in an attempt to remedy my reputation, sitting up on my bed, with my arms bracing my figure, I slowly spread my bent legs. I bite my bottom lip, and his eyes shift down and blacken. “Get on with it then, Logan.” I roll my tongue as his name teasingly leaves my mouth. His head twitches in an almost feral manner, and I gulp.

“You’re asking for it,” is all he mumbles before pouncing on me. Our limbs tangle and I moan as his leg presses into my clothed clit. “Please,” I just about sob, to which he responds with an aggressive kiss and another crushing rub of his thigh. I moan louder, and he grunts, “You like that?” I push my hands into his hair, running my fingers through his thick locks. He lets out a coarse groan.

Loving how vocal he is, I decide to encourage him by groping his cock over his rugged jeans. “Fuck, baby,” he groans out when his mouth leaves mine. He then runs his tongue over my neck and collar, soon nibbling on my earlobe. His thigh continues to make work of me, and I match his pace. “You're so dirty,” he grins while his nose brushes my rosy cheek, and then he's kissing me. “I love it,” he professes with amusement, again, coaxing his tone.

Just as I begin undoing his belt, he flips me over on my stomach like before. Then, when I'm lying flat underneath him, he grabs my hips, to lift them towards his crotch as he kneels above. “I better see a pink thong,” he jokes as he strips me bare. He groans in satisfaction as I’m left in just my underwear for his viewing. “Unreal,” Logan practically purrs.

I wiggle my ass playfully, and he growls and smacks it harder than he did in his classroom. I squeal into my pillow, briskly going quiet when I hear his belt being ripped from the loops of his denim. Leaving my underwear in place, he runs his digits over the lace, making me whine, "Logan."

With his name on my tongue, it shortly turns into a cry as the lace covering my clit gets moved to the side, and two meaty fingers dive into me. "Shit, princess," he rasps. "How am I gonna fit?" He asks rhetorically, and I choke a sob, as he wastes no time building up an energetic pace, with his fingers.

He swiftly tears an orgasm from my trembling body, still holding my hips up with one hand. When his fingers leave, I hear his mouth clean them, and I swing my head to face him hastily, but he shoves my head back into my pillow. "So eager," he more or less snickers.

"Very," my smothered voice emits, barely audible.

I nearly shriek when his tip swipes my wet slit. Logan, without notice, suddenly pushes himself inside me, with an agonizing slowness, but I quietly persist. "Atta girl, that's it," he lazily groans out encouragements. My hands pathetically slide onto his thighs, unsure if I'm urging him for more, or begging for discretion.

At once, he shoves himself in all the way, and I let out an extensive sigh. His palm, which was just holding down my head, joins his other hand on my abandoned hip. He lets out various curses, along with my name, and begins to move, in and out. Soon enough, he's pounding into me at a savage rate, completely untamed. As well, it seems purposeful, how he simultaneously bends down to growl and moan in my ear, still thrusting.

He stirs another orgasm, still notably, not experiencing his own. "You look real pretty like this princess," he begins to ramble. "Gonna do this every fucking day." The rest of what he says gets lost in translation, as I grow overwhelmed and overstimulated.

Thoughtlessly, I try to crawl away while he still has my lower half hoisted up. Once Logan realizes what I'm up to, my pitiful effort has him laughing. "Where ya going?"

"Lo, it's too much-"

"Lo? Call me that again, it's cute," he hums.

"No more," I whimper, ignoring him.

"Just one more baby," Logan coos, while somehow increasing his pace, making me cum instantly, squirting a little. His moan rumbles in his chest, and he doesn't stop hammering into me. I grip my headboard, and one of his arms stretches alongside mine, to do the same.

When he cums, his grip snaps the wood, breaking a part of the headboard, making me shout in between sobs. He seems to not notice the damage, too busy finishing on my backside.

After a long minute, he slumps his large frame beside me. One of his arms stays drifting across my skin as his eyes intently coast over my features. "Maybe consider skipping my class more often," Logan expresses as his lips slightly tip upward. He presses his lips onto my shoulder. I smile, giggling, "Why?"

"Cause it doesn’t matter where I fuck you, there's nowhere I won't get hard looking at that pretty face," he smiles dreamily, "And you're impractical wardrobe.”

I giggle, "You have a way with words," I pause and smirk, "Mr. Howlett."

He rises onto his elbow with a devilish grin, "Now you're just begging for it princess."

Part two

[flwrkid14]

Tim Drake – From Vigilante to Infinite Realms Royalty

It was one of those things that Tim never imagined would happen, not in his wildest Gotham nights. But then again, dating Danny Fenton, aka Danny Phantom, the Ghost King, came with more than just the usual paranormal hijinks.

Tim was used to strange things, but being royalty? That was definitely new.

The revelation hit him one evening when Danny casually mentioned it, like he was talking about the weather.

“You know you’re technically royalty now, right?” Danny said, lounging upside down in the air like it was the most normal thing ever.

Tim raised an eyebrow. “Royalty? What are you talking about?”

Danny grinned, clearly enjoying himself. “Well, you’re dating me. And I’m the King of the Infinite Realms. So that makes you my consort… which, you know, technically makes you royalty too.”

Tim froze. “Wait—what? That’s not how this works. I didn’t sign up for—”

“Oh, but it is how it works. Welcome to ghost politics, Drake.”

And that’s when Tim realized his life just got infinitely more complicated.

Naturally, the bats found out. Because of course they did. And it spiraled into something Tim really didn’t want to deal with.

It started when he casually mentioned it during a meeting in the Batcave. He figured it wasn’t a big deal. After all, being ‘royalty’ in a ghost dimension didn’t really change anything, right?

Wrong.

Bruce didn’t even flinch. He just kept typing at the Batcomputer. “You’re dating the Ghost King, and now you’re royalty?”

“Technically, yes,” Tim said, trying not to sound too defensive.

Bruce glanced at him. “I see.”

That was all he said. But it was enough to make Tim feel like he’d just announced he was moving to the moon.

Jason, of course, immediately jumped on it. “Hold up. So you’re, like, ghost royalty now? Does that mean you get a crown or something?”

Tim shot him a glare. “No, I’m not getting a crown.”

“Oh, I dunno,” Jason grinned. “Sounds like royalty to me. Next thing you know, we’re gonna be bowing to Prince Drake of the Phantom Zone.”

“It’s not the Phantom Zone, Todd.”

Damian, predictably, was furious. “This is ridiculous. You, Drake? Royalty? You are not fit for any throne, especially one in the Infinite Realms. The entire concept is absurd.”

Tim sighed, rubbing his temples. “I’m not ruling anything, Damian. It’s just a title.”

“An unearned one,” Damian muttered under his breath.

Steph, on the other hand, thought it was the funniest thing she’d ever heard. “Wait, wait. So if you and Danny are together for real, does that mean we have to call you ‘Your Highness’? I need to know. Are there royal ghost duties? Do you have to make decrees?”

“No. Please stop,” Tim groaned.

But the worst part? The teasing didn’t stop. Every dinner, every mission, every time Tim walked into the room, someone had something to say.

“So, Tim,” Dick said one day with a grin. “Have you started planning ghostly state visits yet? I’m sure the Justice League would love to attend a royal banquet in your honor.”

“No state visits,” Tim said through gritted teeth. “I don’t even rule anything.”

“Sure you don’t, ‘Your Ghostliness,’” Jason added with a laugh.

The bats seemed to think it was the funniest thing in the world. Tim? Not so much. But he had to admit, ghost politics were no joke. He was already getting drawn into weird Infinite Realms power struggles, where ancient beings would bow to him and ghosts would whisper about “the King’s consort.”

At first, Tim tried to play it off. He didn’t need the title. He wasn’t about to walk around with a crown and robes, or start making royal proclamations. But when one of the ghost courtiers addressed him as “My Lord,” he couldn’t help but cringe.

Danny found the whole thing hilarious. “Don’t worry,” he’d say with a smirk. “You won’t have to do anything royal. It’s just… a perk.”

“Some perk,” Tim muttered.

Still, despite all the teasing and the bizarre ghostly politics, Tim knew one thing for sure: he wouldn’t trade it for anything. Dating Danny came with chaos, sure. But at the end of the day, Tim was okay with it. Even if it meant being ghost royalty.

Just… no crown. Ever.

[ha-rinrin]

"Is there something wrong with my pants?"

Summary: Jinx's comes home after getting half of Zaun out of Stillwater with a doubt on her mind.

Pairing: Jinx x fem!reader

Wordcount: 1.4k

Authors note: I laughed so hard at this scene that I had to write something based on it. Also, guys, I'm absolutely refusing to accept the ending of episode 6 for my own mental health.

masterlist

The hideout is still, the quiet hum of the machinery and the flicker of a dim lamp your only company. You've been waiting for Jinx, trying not to imagine all the chaos she’s causing out there. You know she’s been working on something big, but you’re never quite sure exactly what until she shows up.

The door slams open, and in she bursts, her energy almost tangible as she steps into the room. Jinx is practically glowing, a grin stretched across her face that matches the wild sparkle in her eyes. Her clothes are messy, but she’s hardly bothered by it, her usual chaotic aura taking over.

“Guess who just pulled half of Zaun outta Stillwater?” she announces, her voice thick with excitement. She practically bounces in place, her fingers twitching like she’s about to explode with more energy.

You blink, surprised. “Wait—half of Zaun? You mean you—”

Jinx nods, cutting you off with a quick motion of her hands. “Yeah! I snuck in, all stealthy-like, dodged the enforcers, and got them out. No one even knew what hit ‘em! They’re gonna be talking about this for ages, trust me.” She leans in closer, her face lighting up with that grin that’s both wild and contagious. “I’m like their ghost, except, you know, way cooler.”

You can’t help but smile at her enthusiasm, though a small part of you wonders how she managed it without being caught. She’s reckless, but she’s also clever in her own strange way.

Her voice drops a little, a mix of excitement and something softer underneath it. “It felt good, y’know? Being the one who saves the day for once.” She rubs the back of her neck sheepishly, glancing at you like she’s half unsure if you’ll think it’s stupid.

You step forward, catching her eyes with a soft smile. “I’m proud of you, Jinx. You did something good today.”

Her eyes widen slightly, a little surprised at the words, before her usual grin returns, if a little softer now. "Well, I don’t always blow things up, y’know." She shrugs, still trying to play it off like it’s no big deal, but you can tell she’s pleased.

“Yeah, but you always make it exciting," you reply, stepping closer to her, your voice warm. "Only you could pull something like that off and get away with it."

Jinx laughs, her energy rising again, and she twirls around once more, feeling the high of her success. "Well, they won’t be calling me ‘crazy’ for much longer! They’ll be calling me a hero soon enough—just wait!"

You smile, watching her, knowing that her idea of ‘hero’ is always going to be a little different from the norm. But you wouldn’t have it any other way.

After the rush of adrenaline begins to fade, Jinx’s usual wild energy starts to settle, leaving behind a quieter, more tired version of her. She lets out a long breath, her grin softening as she moves to the couch, her steps a little less bouncy now.

“You know,” she says, her voice much softer than before, “sometimes, all that sneaky, saving-the-day stuff takes more out of me than I thought.”

She drops onto the couch with a sigh, sprawling out, but then pats the empty space next to her, glancing up at you with a mischievous smile. “C’mere. You’re not gonna leave me hanging after all that, are you?”

You raise an eyebrow but walk over anyway, sitting next to her. As soon as you do, Jinx pulls you down beside her, her arms wrapping around you like a vice, dragging you closer as she snuggles into your side.

“Perfect,” she mutters, resting her head against your shoulder with a contented sigh. Her usual wild energy has faded, replaced by something softer, something that only ever seems to appear when she’s with you. She lets out a small, satisfied hum, clearly enjoying the comfort of just being close to you after everything.

“You know, you’re the only one who doesn’t think I’m a total freak," she says after a few moments of quiet, her voice more vulnerable than she usually lets on. "You’re the only one who gets it… and me." She nuzzles into your side, her arms tightening around you slightly.

You smile softly, resting a hand on her back, your fingers gently tracing the familiar lines of her jacket. "You’re not a freak, Jinx. You're just... you. And that’s all I need."

She glances up at you, her eyes bright, but there’s something softer there now, something deeper than the usual spark of mischief. "Good," she mutters with a quiet chuckle. "’Cause I’m never gonna change." Her grip on you tightens a little, and she settles further into your side, clearly at peace now. “So, I’m gonna stay here and cuddle until the world falls apart again. You cool with that?”

You chuckle, feeling the warmth of her body next to yours, the chaos of her day finally falling away as she rests against you. “I’m more than cool with that.”

Jinx lets out another satisfied sigh, her eyes fluttering closed as she relaxes even more, completely at ease in your arms. And for once, everything feels calm—just the two of you, wrapped up in each other, in a world that’s spinning too fast for anyone else to catch

Jinx stays nestled against you for a while, the chaos of the day melting away in the quiet comfort between you. Her breathing has slowed, and she feels more relaxed than she has in hours. The soft hum of the hideout is the only sound, but then, out of nowhere, she shifts slightly in your arms, her mood taking a subtle dip.

You feel her tense, just for a second, and her voice comes out a little softer than usual. “Hey… um… do you think there’s something wrong with my pants?”

You blink, not sure if you heard her correctly. And then, you glance down at her—her eyes wide, her lips pressed together like she’s genuinely worried. It’s such a stark contrast to the wild, unpredictable energy she usually exudes. The sudden vulnerability in her face, combined with the seriousness of her tone, is almost too much.

And before you can stop yourself, you burst out laughing. It’s not mean-spirited, just genuine, surprised amusement. The ridiculousness of the question, paired with the look on her face, catches you off guard.

Jinx blinks at you, her eyes narrowing slightly in confusion as she watches you laugh. “What?” she asks, her voice a little defensive, though the corners of her mouth twitch in response to your laughter. "Is it really that funny?"

You try to catch your breath, still chuckling. “Jinx… you—" You wipe your eyes with your sleeve, grinning. “You’re worried about your pants? Look at you! You’re the last person who should care about that!”

She pouts for a moment, her arms still around you as she pulls herself a little closer, almost like she’s trying to hide. “It’s not funny, okay?” she mutters, her voice quieter now, though there’s still a hint of that pout on her lips. "That enforcer made me feel stupid... and I didn’t like it."

You stop laughing, realizing just how much it’s bothering her. You gently tilt her chin up to look at you, the playful tone fading as you meet her eyes. “I’m sorry, Jinx,” you say, your voice soft but sincere. “It’s just… you’re telling me this, and then I look at you, and I’m like— … Who cares what she thinks?”

She stares at you for a moment, the pout fading as she lets out a small breath. “Yeah, but still...” she trails off, still fiddling with the fabric of her pants.

You grin, brushing a hand through her hair as you pull her back into you. “You’re perfect, Jinx. Those pants? Totally you. No one else could pull them off like you do.”

her head resting against your chest as she lets out a soft sigh, the weight of her earlier worries starting to ease away. “You’re the best,” she murmurs, her voice barely audible. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

You smile, kissing the top of her head. “You’d probably blow something up, but I’d still be right here.”

And just like that, the tension fades. She’s back to her usual self—still a little quirky, but reassured and relaxed in your arms.

[sttoru]

·.⌇ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒. satoru’s love for you has never diminished—even after being your husband for a few years now. in fact, his love for you continues to increase with each passing day.

wc. 500-ish

tags. husband!gojo satoru x wife!female reader. fluff. satoru being clingy as per usual. reader gets called ‘sweetheart, my wife.’

“and my lovely wife right here will have the vanilla flavour,” satoru announces to the ice cream man. he’s smiling from ear to ear as he shamelessly puts emphasis on the word ‘lovely’.

it’s embarrassing to you. especially because everyone in the queue - plus the vendor - is staring at you. some giggle at the affectionate display from your husband, others just stare or roll their eyes.

satoru does not care about any of them. all he cares about is expressing his love to you in any way he can—whenever, wherever. this time he went for a much more. . . direct approach.

“you didn’t have to say it like that,” you mumble under your breath. you tug at satoru’s arm, clinging onto him whilst hiding your face against his bicep.

you get even more flustered when the man behind the counter nods at your lover’s words—telling you he ‘agrees that you’re indeed a lovely woman’.

satoru feels a sense of pride in having you with him. he always does. seeing the reactions of others when he’s boasting about having a pretty wife makes him feel all giddy.

“why? i’m proud of my wife,” satoru shrugs nonchalantly. he lowers his head to yours, looking you in the eyes from behind his sunglasses. he giggles once he sees that flustered expression of yours from up close.

the sorcerer ruffles your hair before over excessively nuzzling his cheek against yours. perhaps he’s actually experiencing what’s called a love surge, “my girl, my sweetheart.”

you cringe at the cheesy moment that’s happening. you love satoru and his clingy affectionate gestures, but when you’re surrounded by a bunch of people, it can become overwhelming.

you whimper and scrunch your nose up, “mghhh, stop it—we’re in public, ‘toru.”

a futile attempt to stop the white haired man. though, after a few seconds, he actually halts his movements. satoru pouts dramatically whilst holding your face in his hands. he squeezes your cheeks together, “awww. . . but what if i want the world to know that i’m the luckiest man ali—ow!”

you bite satoru’s thumb the second it teasingly rubs with your bottom lip. he’s always so touchy and knows no boundaries when it comes to pda. however, it does make you happy to know that he’s not afraid to show you off to the world.

you playfully frown at your husband, his thumb still between your teeth. it’s cute how easily flustered you get. it makes him want to play with you some more—to tease you some more.

“alright, alright,” satoru gives up and sighs deeply. his head is held low as he steps back to give you some space, “i jus’ wanted to let my girl know how much i adore her, y’know.”

“hah, i’m not falling for your dramatics this time,” you chuckle and roll your eyes. you grab your order once it’s done and walk out of the shop without waiting for your pouty but lovely husband.

you hear him whine out your name. satoru hurriedly grabs his own ice cream cone before rushing after you. once he’s caught up, he wraps his arms around you from behind and lifts you up.

“hey! you can’t just leave your hubby like that. c’mere,” satoru smirks and you can hear it in his voice. you kick your legs, though to no avail.

“gojo satoru! don’t you dare,” you warn whilst holding tightly onto your dessert. satoru ignores your warning and spins you around in circles with him—laughing at your high pitched shrieks.

he doesn’t stop until you’re both dizzy and have to hold onto each other to prevent from falling. satoru kisses your neck gently and you can feel him smiling against your skin, “i love you, sweetheart.”

his love for you has and will never fade. many may say that the honeymoon phase will end sooner or later in a marriage, but that’s definitely not the case with your marriage.

satoru will always be head over heels for you and his affection for you will never stop. even if you’re both old and grey; he’s going to love you all the same.

[neferaskingdom]

♡ Flirting? That’s a Track Limit Violation | MV1

Pairing: Max Verstappen x Leclerc!Reader [Face Claim: None]

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Summary: Y/N drops a cryptic elevator pic hugging some random dude and it’s like throwing a grenade into the F1 paddock. Charles and Arthur are ready to form an FBI task force, and the drivers are gossiping harder than a group of high schoolers at lunch. Max? He’s out here pretending he doesn’t care, but we all know he’s five seconds away from flipping a table. Nobody has a clue who the guy is, but Max is sweating, the internet is thriving, and the drama is peak entertainment.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

A/N: thank you soo much for 100 followers guys I never knew this many people would end up liking this little fic. screaming, crying, throwing up fr 😭. also sorry to everyone who had to read the wonky letters version. tumblr messed up my format and I had to individually fix the words.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Part 3 of my wheel-to-wheel but still in denial series: Masterlist

y/n_leclerc posted an Instagram Story:

📸: A blurry photo of Y/N hugging a guy in an elevator, only his back visible.

Caption: A single red heart emoji❤️

Replies:

danielricciardo:

Popcorn out. Watching the Leclerc brothers have an absolute meltdown in 3… 2… 1… 😂

charles_leclerc:

Who the hell is this guy? Y/N, answer me RIGHT NOW!

arthur_leclerc:

This better be a joke, or I’m tracking your location. WHO. IS. HE?

landonorris:

Wait… bitch did you just drop a boyfriend announcement with a blurry elevator pic?? DID MAX SEE THIS?!?

      ↪ y/n_leclerc:

What does Max have to do with anything???

      ↪ landonorris:

OH MY LORD I CANNOT WITH YOU TWO

georgerussell63:

who dis?

alex_albon:

I feel like I just witnessed the calm before the storm. Charles is going to explode. Arthur’s already spiraling.

y/n_leclerc posted a photo:

Liked by landonorris, pierregasly, alex_albon, and 500,903 others.

Comments:

charles_leclerc:

Y/N, explain yourself. Who’s this guy?

arthur_leclerc:

SIS, YOU CAN’T JUST DROP A HEART AND EXPECT US TO BE CALM.

maxverstappen1:

So… new friend? Or something else?

      ↪ landonorris:

Max, you sound… interested? 👀

      ↪ georgerussell63:

Max, if you’re going to be subtle, you’re failing.

      ↪ danielricciardo:

Can we all just take a moment to appreciate how Charles is losing his mind over this while Max tries to act like he doesn’t care? 😂

      ↪ alex_albon:

Max pretending this is just a casual question while we all know he’s about to punch a wall.

lilyzneimer:

y/n_leclerc, the WAGs feel personally betrayed. We thought we were your ride or dies! 💔

charles_leclerc:

NO ONE IS ANSWERING MY QUESTIONS, AND I’M ABOUT TO START FLYING TO FIND THIS GUY.

      ↪ arthur_leclerc:

Charles, wait for me. I’ve got your back.

      ↪ y/n_leclerc:

Can you guys relax? It’s really not that serious.

lilymhe:

Hello??? y/n_leclerc, you ditched us for a man??? What happened to me being the love of your life? 😭

carmenmmundt:

I thought I was your only love 😞. I feel betrayed babes💔

f1_gossips tweeted:

F1 drivers are officially in meltdown mode after Y/N Leclerc posts a cryptic heart emoji with a mystery man. Charles and Arthur Leclerc are leading the charge, while Max Verstappen seems unusually ‘curious.’ What’s really going on here? 🤔

Comments:

user1:

Max ‘I’m totally not jealous’ Verstappen is the best version of Max.

user2:

Charles is on the verge of hunting this guy down while Max plays detective in the background.

user3:

MAX PRETENDING NOT TO CARE WHILE LITERALLY SWEATING THROUGH HIS RACE SUIT. I SEE YOU, VERSTAPPEN

user4:

This is going to end with Max accidentally confessing feelings. You heard it here first.

user5:

Y/N dropping a single heart emoji and causing the grid to spiral. POWER MOVE. 😈

user6:

Max is acting like he’s not freaking out, but I bet he’s checking her Insta every 10 minutes.

user7:

Arthur and Charles are about to pull up with baseball bats, and Max is trying to act like he’s just ‘concerned.’

y/n_leclerc posted an Instagram Story:

📸: Screenshot of her Instagram comments blowing up with messages from drivers, brothers, and the WAGs.

Caption: Y’all are doing TOO much. Chill, it’s not what you think! 😂

Replies:

charles_leclerc:

IF IT’S NOT WHAT WE THINK, THEN TELL US WHO HE IS. 😡

arthur_leclerc:

Sister, you better have a GOOD explanation for this. We are not playing.

landonorris:

Bro, Charles is about to have a meltdown, and Max is getting quieter. I don’t know which one is scarier.

danielricciardo:

I’ve never seen Charles so unhinged, and I live for this chaos. 🧨

georgerussell63:

You’ve been eerily quiet for someone who usually has a lot to say. Dont tell me this is serious?!?!

y/n_leclerc posted:

📸: Y/N and her best friend posing dramatically in the same elevator.

Caption: Relax, it’s just y/n_bff, my best friend. 😂 Y’all really lost your minds over an elevator hug, huh? Charles, Arthur, you can calm down now.

Liked by charles_leclerc, danielricciardo, landonorris, and 420,876 others.

Comments:

charles_leclerc:

ARE YOU KIDDING ME?! YOU MADE US ALL PANIC FOR THIS?!

arthur_leclerc:

Y/N, YOU CANNOT DO THIS TO US.

maxverstappen1:

So… just a friend, huh? Good to know.

      ↪ landonorris:

Max, let out the biggest sigh of relief

      ↪ danielricciardo:

Max pretending he wasn’t two seconds away from launching an investigation.

      ↪ alex_albon:

Max, it's ok to breathe now. 😂

lilymhe:

Y/N, we need to talk about this betrayal. A PRANK AND YOU DIDN’T TELL US? 💔

      ↪ carmenmmundt:

You better make it up to us. We feel personally attacked.

f1gossips tweeted:

UPDATE: Y/N Leclerc has revealed the mystery man is just her best friend, but the damage has already been done. Max Verstappen, despite claiming not to care, was very quick to ask for details. Fans are now speculating on Max’s sudden interest. Could there be something brewing? 👀 #MaxYN #LeclercBrothers #PrankChaos #MaxNotJealous

Comments:

user8:

Max is like, ‘I’m not jealous, but… WHO IS THIS GUY?’ 😂

user9:

Charles and Arthur over here ready to fight while Max is low-key spiraling.

user10:

Max trying so hard to be subtle and failing MISERABLY.

user11:

Y/N is playing with fire, and I LOVE IT. She’s making Max sweat.

Groupchat Messages: (maxy/n truthers):

dudududu:

So… no real boyfriend?

albono:

Max, she literally just said that. You can chill now.

dudududu:

I wasn’t not chill. Just… you know, looking out for her.

albono:

Uh-huh. You sound real concerned for a ‘friend,’ Max. 😂

shoeysupremacy:

MAX, JUST ADMIT YOU’RE JEALOUS. IT’S PAINFUL TO WATCH.

norizz:

Max pretending not to care is the worst acting I’ve ever seen.

georgieporgie:

It’s the slowest, most awkward flirtation I’ve ever witnessed, and it’s amazing.

Twitter Reactions:

user12:

The longer this goes on, the more I think Max is one step away from confessing his feelings.

user13:

Max: ‘I’m not jealous, I’m just… CONCERNED.’

user14:

Max watching this whole thing unfold like it’s the worst pit stop of his life.

user15:

Max really out here pretending he didn’t have a minor breakdown over a blurry elevator pic.

y/n_leclerc posted a photo:

Caption: guys I think this might be my favourite spot now.

 Liked by charles_leclerc, danielricciardo, landonorris, and 220,896 others.

Comments: 

maxverstappen1:

Just making sure. No weird guys in elevators, right?

      ↪ y/n_leclerc:

Max, stop worrying about elevators. You’re being ridiculous.

      ↪ maxverstappen1:

I’m just saying. You could do better than a blurry elevator hug. Maybe someone who drives fast for a living. Just a thought.

      ↪ danielricciardo:

OH MY GOD, MAX IS FLIRTING. MAX IS REALLY DOING THIS.

      ↪ landonorris:

Max ‘I’m not jealous’ Verstappen is actually… shooting his shot? 😂

      ↪ georgerussell63:

Y/N, this is your fault. You’ve broken Max.

user16:

MAX FLIRTING??? IS THIS REAL LIFE???

user17:

Max really out here going from ‘I’m not jealous’ to flirting in the comments. What a journey.

user18:

I LOVE THIS. Y/N has Max spinning, and it’s beautiful.

user19:

Max flirted, and the world just shifted on its axis. Did anyone else feel that?

user20:

Max shooting his shot in the most awkward, Max way possible is sending me.

y/n_leclerc posted a photo:

Caption: Sunsets🌞

Liked by charles_leclerc, maxverstappen1, landonorris, and 426,276 others.

Comments:

maxverstappen1:

The only thing more beautiful than this sunset is you

      ↪ y/n_leclerc:

...Max, what are you doing?

      ↪ danielricciardo:

OH MY GOD, MAX, DID YOU JUST— DID YOU JUST FLIRT IN PUBLIC? 😂

      ↪ charles_leclerc:

MAX, WHAT THE HELL IS THIS?!! 😡

      ↪ arthur_leclerc:

YOU’RE DEAD, VERSTAPPEN.

      ↪ landonorris:

Y/N, RUN. MAX IS LOSING IT.

      ↪ lilymhe:

Y/N, is this your new strategy? Break him down with elevator pranks and watch him crumble? Genius.

user21:

MAX REALLY WENT FOR IT. This man is shooting his shot ON MAIN. 😱

user22:

Y/N’s sundress got Max sweating more than a red flag in Q3. 💀

user23:

Charles and Arthur in full meltdown mode while Max is out here simping. We LOVE TO SEE IT.

user24:

MAX JUST FLIRTED IN THE COMMENTS LIKE IT’S CASUAL?!

y/n_leclerc posted a photo:

Caption: Caffeine fix ☕

Liked by maxverstappen1, danielricciardo, landonorris, and 420,876 others.

Comments:

maxverstappen1:

Bet that coffee isn’t as sweet as you. 😘

      ↪ y/n_leclerc:

MAX, STOP. WHAT ARE YOU DOING. 😳

      ↪ landonorris:

STOP. MAX, YOU’RE MAKING IT WORSE. 😂

      ↪ danielricciardo:

MAX, YOU CAN’T JUST DROP FLIRTY COMMENTS EVERYWHERE. Y/N’S IN SHOCK. 💀

      ↪ georgerussell63:

Max, for real. Are you okay? Blink twice if you need help.

lilymhe:

Y/N, please explain what kind of witchcraft you used to make Max simp THIS HARD. I need tips. 😂

alex_albon:

I’m both terrified and impressed at how fast Max has gone from 'I don't even like her' to 'full-on simp mode.'

charles_leclerc:

MAX. ENOUGH. I CAN’T HANDLE THIS.

      ↪ arthur_leclerc:

I’m grabbing the car keys. We’re handling this in person.

user25:

Max flirting in broad daylight while Charles and Arthur spiral into madness. THIS IS PEAK ENTERTAINMENT.

user26:

I need a documentary on how Max went from ‘I fucking hate her’ to dropping flirty lines under every post. 💀

user27:

Max is playing the long game. But damn, is he bad at being subtle.

user28:

I can’t decide if I’m living for this or dying of secondhand embarrassment for Y/N. Max, STOP. 😂

user29:

Y/N, blink twice if Max has you trapped in a flirty comment loop and you don’t know how to escape.

y/n_leclerc posted a photo:

Caption: “In the presence of great art, time stands still”

ps. yes I did copy that from google 🤗

Liked by landonorris, pierregasly, alex_albon, and 500,903 others.

Comments:

maxverstappen1:

Tried to focus on the art but my eyes keep wandering back to you

      ↪ alex_albon:

MAX, WHY ARE YOU LIKE THIS? 😵

      ↪ landonorris:

Max, bro… this is getting uncomfortable. 😂

      ↪ danielricciardo:

MAX IS GOING FULL ROMEO. SOMEONE STOP HIM BEFORE IT’S TOO LATE.

      ↪ georgerussell63:

Y/N, how are you even still functioning with this level of public simping?

      ↪ pierregasly:

I’m cackling. Max is like a flirty tornado right now. 💀

user30:

Max is one more flirty comment away from proposing marriage on Instagram Live.

user31:

Y/N is going to have a nervous breakdown at this rate. Max, CHILL.

user32:

Charles is gonna have a full-on crisis meeting about Max’s public simping. 😂

user33:

Max flirting with Y/N like he’s auditioning for a rom-com. WHAT IS HAPPENING.

user34:

Y/N trying to roast Max while he keeps throwing out flirty comments is actually hilarious. I hope she survives this.

user35:

Max went from “just friends” to dropping Shakespearean lines in under 24 hours. ICONIC.

DMs between Max and Y/N:

y/n_leclerc:

Max.

maxverstappen1:

Yes, Y/N? 😏

y/n_leclerc:

We need to talk. Immediately.

maxverstappen1:

Am I in trouble? Because I can explain everything. 😇

y/n_leclerc:

MAX, WHAT IS GOING ON WITH YOU? The flirting in the comments?? I literally had to restrict my brothers from my posts to stop them from finding and KILLING YOU. 😩

maxverstappen1:

You restricted them?! 😅

y/n_leclerc:

YES. Because you’re out here leaving cheesy flirty comments like we’re on Love Island or something! And the public thinks we’re secretly dating. WHAT ARE YOU DOING? MAX. You’ve been openly flirting with me in front of CHARLES. On Instagram. IN FRONT OF THE WORLD. They’re going crazy.

maxverstappen1:

Oh, right. I forgot about the brothers. Oops. 😅

y/n_leclerc:

Forgot about the brothers?? You’re practically signing up for your own funeral. 😩

maxverstappen1:

Come on, Y/N, it’s not that bad. 😏

y/n_leclerc:

...Max. I’ve got people DMing me, my brothers are two steps away from driving to your house, and the internet is convinced we’re dating. You're taking the jokes way too far, and I don’t know what you’re playing at, but it needs to stop.

maxverstappen1:

...I wasn’t joking.

y/n_leclerc:

Excuse me?

maxverstappen1:

I’m not joking. About the flirting.

y/n_leclerc:

MAX. WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU’RE NOT JOKING?! 😳

maxverstappen1:

I like you.

y/n_leclerc:

...Like, “like me” like me?

maxverstappen1:

Yes. 🙃

y/n_leclerc:

No. This is a prank. You’re pranking me. Where’s the camera? WHERE IS IT? 😵

maxverstappen1:

It’s not a prank, Y/N. I’ve liked you for a while.

y/n_leclerc:

MAX. You can’t just drop a BOMB like this in my DMs. What the hell do you mean “for a while”?!

maxverstappen1:

Years. 😅

y/n_leclerc:

YEARS?! WHAT DO YOU MEAN YEARS?! 😱

maxverstappen1:

I didn’t say anything because I didn’t want to ruin our thing. You know, the teasing, the banter. But when I saw that elevator post, I thought you had a boyfriend. It freaked me out. I realized I had to say something.

y/n_leclerc:

Oh my god, this is so much worse than I thought. 😵‍💫

maxverstappen1:

I didn’t want to mess things up, but I can’t keep pretending. I care about you, Y/N. More than just friends. I had to shoot my shot.

y/n_leclerc:

...You saw one blurry elevator pic and had a full-on emotional breakdown?

maxverstappen1:

Pretty much, yeah.

y/n_leclerc:

Max, this isn’t real life. This is some Netflix rom-com level nonsense, and I’m... confused.

maxverstappen1:

I know it’s sudden. But I’ve liked you for years. I just didn’t want to lose you and watch you love someone that wasn’t me

y/n_leclerc:

...oh.

come over

maxverstappen1:

what? 

y/n_leclerc:

come over to my place so that I can kiss you dumbass cuz believe it or not but I kinda like you too

maxverstappen1:

OH 

gimme 5.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

[amirasainz]

I have a request for Lando Norris x Sister!reader where she gets cheated on. Please🫶🏻 I love your writing

Enjoy reading and send some requests!!!

-xoxo babygirl 🧡

Part 2

Big Brother to the Rescue

The paddock was buzzing with activity, fans cheering and cameras clicking as drivers moved between interviews and meetings. It was a typical race weekend—hectic, thrilling, and intense. But for Yn, none of it seemed to matter.

She walked beside Lando, her older brother, keeping her head down. Normally, she loved being at the Grand Prix. She’d tease Lando about his starts, laugh at his banter with the other drivers, and soak in the high-energy atmosphere. But today, her heart felt heavy.

Lando, always in tune with her moods, glanced down at her and frowned. “You’re too quiet,” he said as they reached the McLaren hospitality area. “This isn’t like you. What’s wrong?”

Yn sighed. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

That was all it took for Lando’s protective instincts to kick in. “Oh, you’re definitely talking about it. Did something happen? Who do I need to fight?”

Yn couldn’t help but chuckle lightly at his immediate leap to violence. “It’s nothing. Just...my boyfriend cheated on me.”

Lando froze mid-step. He turned to her, his expression shifting from shock to anger. “He what?”

“Cheated,” Yn repeated, her voice cracking slightly. “With some girl he met at a party. I found out yesterday.”

Lando clenched his fists, his jaw tightening. “That absolute—” He cut himself off, taking a deep breath. “Okay. First of all, you don’t deserve that. Second, I’m going to make sure you’re okay. And third, if I ever see him, he’s toast.”

Yn smiled faintly at his overprotective tone. “Thanks, Lan. But I don’t think anything can cheer me up right now.”

Lando wasn’t having it. “Challenge accepted.”

---

Throughout the morning, Lando hovered around her like a mother hen. He brought her tea, her favorite snacks, and even a McLaren hoodie to keep her warm. The other drivers began to notice.

“Why is Yn so quiet today?” Carlos asked, walking over to where she sat with her tea. “You’re usually giving Lando a hard time.”

“She’s going through something,” Lando replied, his tone making it clear the topic was off-limits. He wrapped an arm around Yn’s shoulders and pulled her closer. “But don’t worry. I’ve got this.”

Carlos raised an eyebrow but didn’t push further. He ruffled Yn’s hair affectionately before heading off.

A little while later, Charles and Pierre stopped by. “Yn, you’re not smiling,” Charles said, crouching down to her eye level. “That’s illegal. Lando, what have you done?”

“For once, it’s not my fault,” Lando said, rolling his eyes. “She’s just—she’s sad. Leave her alone.”

Pierre, never one to resist a joke, smirked. “Do you need us to scare someone off? We’re good at that.”

“I can scare people off just fine,” Lando said firmly. “Thanks.”

Yn managed a small laugh, which made Charles and Pierre exchange victorious looks.

---

Later, when Ollie came by, he took one look at Yn and immediately tried to lighten the mood. “I’ve got an idea,” he announced, sitting down beside her. “What if I became your new boyfriend? I’d treat you like a queen.”

Yn laughed for the first time all day, the sound catching Lando’s attention from across the room. He walked over, arms crossed.

“Really, Ollie?” Lando said, glaring at his friend. “That’s the best you’ve got?”

“What?” Ollie said, holding up his hands in mock innocence. “I’m just saying, I’d be an upgrade.”

Yn shook her head, still giggling. “You’re ridiculous.”

“Ridiculous, but effective,” Ollie said, winking at her.

Lando wasn’t amused. “Stick to racing, mate.”

Ollie shrugged and walked off, leaving Yn smiling. “He’s an idiot,” she said, leaning her head on Lando’s shoulder.

“True,” Lando agreed. “But if it made you laugh, I’ll allow it.”

---

As the day wore on, Lando continued to dote on Yn. He handed her tissues when she teared up, reminded her to drink water, and even skipped a strategy meeting to sit with her in the quiet corner of the hospitality area.

“You know,” Yn said softly, “you’re a really good brother.”

“Obviously,” Lando replied with a smirk. “But thanks. And for real, Yn, don’t let that guy make you feel like you’re not enough. He’s the idiot, not you.”

Yn sniffled and smiled up at him. “You’re the best.”

“Duh,” Lando said, pulling her into a hug. “Now, what do you say we watch the race together? I’ll dedicate my first overtake to you.”

Yn laughed, feeling lighter than she had all day. “Deal.”

By the time the sun set over the paddock, Yn was back to herself, and it was all thanks to Lando—her overprotective, slightly annoying, but always reliable big brother.

[raven-dor]

you are my moonlight

In which gwayne hightower meets his future wife, and his timing is most unfortunate

PAIRING: gwayne hightower x reader, alicent hightower x PLATONIC!reader, rhaenyra targaryen x PLATONIC!reader

WARNINGS: fluff, young love, friends fighting, creepy viserys, horrible timing

WORD COUNT: 3.5k

🎶 : moonlight - ariana grande

AN: this could be read as a prequel to come back to me, but does NOT have to be read to understand any context!!

The tourney was in full swing, Y/N sitting eagerly on Rhaenyra’s left. The first two matches had finished rather similarly, with Sir Criston Cole being the winner. What the trio was actually waiting for was Prince Daemon’s match. It was all Rhaenyra had talked about for days and the fact that he’d gifted her a necklace of Valyrian steel, a rare and precious token that many in the realm could not afford. Of course, Rhaenyra and her family were the exception, as they were one of two of the only remaining High Valyrian houses left.  

The knights of the realm lined up before the Prince, the Master of Revels, announced the man himself. “Prince Daemon of House Targaryen, Prince of the City, will now choose his first opponent.” The prince rode down the line, inspecting each knight briefly. He quickly settled on Alicent’s brother, Ser Gwayne. “For his first challenge, Prince Daemon Targaryen chooses Ser Gwayne Hightower of Oldtown, eldest son of the Hand of the King.” 

Alicent grew restless, picking at the skin surrounding her fingers. Y/N wished she could comfort the auburn haired girl herself, but Rhaenyra grabbed her friend's hand quickly, stopping her from further injury. The two men lined up on their respective sides, racing towards each other. 

Ser Gwayne released the first blow to the shock of the stands. Y/N beamed, though she did not know why. She hardly knew the knight, only hearing of him through Alicent when she recalled her childhood. The second round was quick, and at the last second, Prince Daemon lowered his joust in front of the horse's legs, causing it to topple over, taking Ser Gwayne with it. She gasped, a hand covering her mouth. She mumbled, knowing Rhaenyra would not stand for any untoward talk of her uncle. “By the seven.”

Ser Gwayne did not move, and Alicent grew more anxious by the second. Y/N reached her hand out, grasping Alicent's briefly. “He will be alright, Alicent, I know it.” The squires lifted him from the ground, walking him over to the medicine tent. He would be transported later to the sept, Y/N assumed. She would have to visit him and keep him company while he recovered. 

Prince Daemon approached the Royal apartment, and Rhaenyra instantly approached her uncle. “Nicely done, Uncle.” Alicent and Y/N followed suit, still squeamish from the clearly immoral act.

“Thank you, Princess.” Daemon nodded his head. “Lady Y/N.” 

“My Prince.” 

He turned to Alicent. “Now, I’m fairly certain I can win these games, Lady Alicent. Having your favor would all but assure it.” Alicent walked away, and Daemon smiled once more at the ward of the crown. “Next tourney, my lady, I shall ask you.” 

Y/N laughed. “I look forward to that day, my Prince.” 

Alicent returned swiftly, placing her favor on the Prince’s joust. “Good luck, my Prince.” The three girls sat down, waving at the crowd. The tourney had turned sour near after, with three fights breaking out, all ending in death. The knights, who had never seen battle, were bloodthirsty from what she could tell.

Y/N grew nauseous quickly, begging Rhaenyra for pardon so that she did not grow sick. Rushing out of the royal apartment, she decided to visit Ser Gwayne while she still had the nerve. The tent was quiet, with the exception of a few masters concocting ointments. Y/N peaked around the corner, coming face to face with Alicent’s brother. She curtsied, bowing her head. “My lord.” He tried to sit up, but she quickly stopped him. “Please, there is no need to further harm yourself.” 

He smiled gratefully. “I must ask for your forgiveness, my lady; I do not remember meeting you.” 

“I am Y/N of House Hawthorne. A ward of the crown and a friend of your sister’s.” 

“A pleasure, my lady.” He tilted his head. “Has she sent you here then?” 

“Alicent remains at the tourney. I-” She blushed, realizing how foolish it sounded. “I saw your joust, and I wanted to see that you were well. For Alicent’s sake.” 

He nodded, a smirk growing on his lips. “For Alicent, of course. I must say, I have not heard of House Hawthorne.” She smiled, sitting beside him.

“We are located in the Westerlands, my lord, and are sworn to House Lannister.” She looked closer at his wound, wincing. “Your wound looks rather agitated still. Would you mind if I-” 

He shook his head quickly. “Please. I would be most appreciative.” 

She stood, sneaking a cloth and an herb she knew caused numbing. Wrapping it carefully, she dipped the cloth in water, tapping it lightly on his skin. “This should numb the pain, for now, my lord. I’ve known this herb to speed the healing process along quite nicely.” 

He hummed, closing his eyes. “How did you become so well acquainted with such knowledge?” 

“My mother was a trained healer, my lord.” 

“Please call me Gwayne.” He peeked through his eyelids, giving her a kind smile. “You’ve all but earned it.” 

“Very well, my lo- Gwayne.” She nodded. “If I can call you by your name, it is only fair that you call me by mine.” 

He scoffed. “Hardly. That would be highly improper.” 

She raised an eyebrow, still delicately tapping the cloth. “Opposed to what you have asked of me?” 

He nodded, steadfast. “You are a lady. You should be addressed as such.” 

Dipping the cloth back in the water, she laughed. “Hardly.” 

“Using my own words against me.” He laughed back. “My, you are a wonder.” 

“Y/N?” 

She froze, turning around quickly. For some reason Y/N felt guilty, caught even. But seeing Alicent stand at the end of her brother’s bed, her face as pale as the winter snow, made the girl forget her worries. Y/N dropped the cloth in the bowl, rushing to Alicent’s side. “What is it? What’s happened?” 

“The Queen. She’s-” Alicent leaned closer, whispering in her friend's ear. “She’s dead.” Y/N gasped.

“I-” Y/N turned back to Gwayne, waving quickly. “It was wonderful to make your acquaintance, my lord.” The two girls rushed off, leaving the knight thoroughly confused. 

“Call me-” The girl was out of the tent before he could finish his sentence.

The funeral was a somber affair, as to be expected. Alicent and Y/N stood close by to Rhaenyra, staring at the covered bodies. Syrax, the Princess’s dragon, stood at the top of the hill, waiting for its orders. They stood in silence for the better part of an hour before Prince Daemon whispered in Rhaenyra’s ear, no doubt telling her that she would have to be the one to give the order. 

A shiver ran down Y/N’s spine as her friend stepped forward, catching a sob. “D-” Rhaenyra took a deep breath, commanding her dragon. “Dracarys.” 

The yellow fury let out a great blast, effectively burning her mother and brother’s corpses. Rhaenyra turned away, unable to look at her deceased loved ones. Soon after, the crowd dissipated, leaving Rhaenyra, Y/N, and Alicent still standing by the sight. Y/N stayed back as Alicent approached their grieving friend.

“My lady.” 

Y/N turned, smiling lightly at the Hightower. “My lord.” 

“I believe last we met, I asked you to call me by my name.” He smirked. “Or am I mistaken?” 

She laughed quietly. “I believe the herb I applied made you hallucinate, my lord. You never said anything of the sort.” 

He laughed. “I’m sure you would never lie to me, so I shall take your word for it.” 

Y/N looked back at her friends, her heart aching. 

“She is an unlucky Princess,” Gwayne muttered. 

“Yes, indeed. Losing a parent is never easy.” 

“I am sorry.” Y/N turned back to the young knight, confusion etched on her face. “It is just- I assumed that with you being a ward of the crown-” 

“You would be correct. But it has been so long, I hardly remember what it was like to have parents.” 

He frowned. “That is horrible. I lost my own mother just a year ago.” He placed a comforting hand on her shoulder, and she tried to ignore the shock that rang through her body. “It is never easy.” 

She shook her head, placing a hand delicately over his. “You are, unfortunately, correct.” 

A cough broke the pair apart, Y/N practically jumping at the interruption. “I could use some company on Dragonback.” Rhaenyra practically whispered. “Would you join me?” 

“Of course.” She turned back to Gwayne, curtsying quickly. “My lord.” 

The two girls walked up the hill, arm in arm. Alicent looked curiously at her brother. “What are you doing?” 

He whipped around, laughing at his sister. “Whatever do you mean?” 

“I only meant to say, you’ve taken a recent fascination in Y/N.” 

“Yes.” He nodded. “And your point?” 

Alicent smiled, shaking her head. “Merely a statement, brother.”

The palace gardens were in full bloom this time of year, and Y/N always found comfort in the little corner with a quaint fountain and an outlook of the ocean. Rhaenyra and she frequented this spot often in their youth, and Y/N needed respite from the high tensions at court. She’d been stuck on the same page for what seemed like hours when a voice broke through her focus. “We meet again.” Gwayne bowed his head, grinning much too widely. “My lady.” 

Y/N made no effort to stand, raising her eyebrows. “I am beginning to think, my lord, that you have been following me.” 

“Not that I am…” He started, sitting at the end of the cushioned chair that she occupied. “But if I was, it might have something to do with the fact that you are still not calling me by my name.” 

She laughed. “Is it that simple?” 

He nodded. “Quite. But do not worry yourself, I’ll wait.” His eyes sparkled. “My lady.” 

Y/N welcomed the challenge; she could sit there for hours, reading and ignoring the handsome knight. She glanced down at her book, ignoring his devilishly handsome smile. “You’ve read that page three times already.” She glared over the top, and he held his hands up in surrender, laughing. “Sorry.” 

She looked back down, flipping the page to prove a point. He sighed, standing and walking over to the daisies that bordered the fountain. Picking the fullest one he could find, he stopped in front of the girl, holding it out. “May I?” 

“I will not wilt at the sight of you because you are a lord.” She stood, closing her book. “I am not a flower like the thing you hold in your hand.” 

He nodded. “You are not.” He raised the daisy, tucking it behind her ear. “You are however, as pretty as one.” 

Her cheeks turned pink, and she murmured. “You flatter me, my lord.” 

“And why shouldn’t I? One should always flatter a beautiful woman when given the chance.” He smiled. “I believe calling me by my name shall suffice as thanks.” 

She scoffed, smacking his chest lightly. “You are quite confident, Gwayne.” 

“You’ll find-” He stopped, his smile brightening ten fold. “You said my name.” 

Y/N nodded, walking away. “I did.” 

He followed after, like a lost puppy. “What shall you do with the rest of your day, I wonder?” 

She shrugged. “I do not know, but it will most certainly be out of your presence.” 

He gasped, holding his chest. “You hurt my heart when you say such things.” 

She laughed, stopping and pretending to check him over. “However will you survive?” 

“I think it is terminal my lady.” 

“And what affliction have you caught, Ser Gwayne?” Y/N forced a giggle back, trying her hardest to behave seriously. 

“Lovesickness.” He sighed. “I’m afraid there is no cure.” 

She stepped closer, a pink dusting her cheeks. “I shall mourn you then.” 

“Well, I’m sure we could-” 

“Y/N!” 

Gwayne had never hated the Princess Rhaenyra more in his life than that moment. She was a generally tolerable girl, and a good friend to his sister, but in that moment she stood between him and you, and he wanted nothing more than to tell her to leave. He stepped away from you hesitantly, bowing quickly. “Princess.” 

The Targaryen made no effort to hide her humor at the situation. “I apoligize for the intrusion. Alicent and I were about to go to the Sept, and I did not want you to think we left you behind.” 

Y/N smiled brightly, waving disapointedly to the knight. “Feel better, my lord.”

Alicent tilted her head, yelling back at her brother. “Better? Are you quite well brother?”

Y/N yet again found herself in the gardens, but this time she was here for the soul purpose of seeing Gwayne. She wore her best dress, had her maid’s put her hair up intricately, and even applied some rouge. Not too much, she wouldn’t want people to think the wrong thing. She was a lady, as Gwayne never ceased to remind her. Sitting carefully on the cushioned chair, she positioned herself towards the entrance, waiting for the familiar mop of auburn hair to peek through. She’d begun to think he wouldn’t show when his familiar tenor broke through the tranquil silence. 

“My lady, I thought I would find you here.” She lowered the book, her stomach fluttering when his eyes widened slightly. “You look-” 

“Gwayne, I-” They both stopped, laughing at their ill timed words. “It seems that we cannot find a moment of peace.” 

He nodded, breaking the distance between them. “I have wanted to tell you something for quite some time now. I cannot seem to summon the words to leave me.” He laughed, but his nerves were evident. “It is just…” 

“Yes?” Y/N smiled, hating how nauseous she felt. 

“I wanted to say that-” 

A loud sob rang through the garden, pulling them out of their haze. Gwayne drew his sword, in case the sob resulted in any trouble. Y/N tried to round the corner before him, but he shook his head, leading her carefully through the hedges. 

“Rhaenyra?” Y/N quickly left her place behind Gwayne, rushing to her friends side. “Are you alright?” 

“She’s betrayed me. I cannot- I can’t-” The princess looked up, glaring at the knight. “Can we go some place else?” 

Y/N nodded, her face visibly disappointed. She walked Rhaenyra out of the gardens, sparing Gwayne one last look, mouthing the words ‘I’m sorry.’

The castle had been throw off it’s axis by the sudden shift within it’s walls. Rhaenyra was no longer speaking to Alicent, which meant Y/N was no longer speaking to Alicent, which meant that the once close knit group of friends were no longer a trio. 

It had been that way since they were children, almost ten years ago. Y/N not speaking to Alicent meant she could not speak to Gwayne, or so she assumed. She and Rhaenyra had not talked about it much since the day it was announced, always leaving a sour taste in the Princess’s mouth. 

Y/N just wished Rhaenyra could forgive her friend for something she had no control over. The Royal Wedding was tonight, and Rhaenyra had insisted that Y/N walk in with the princess, even though she wasn’t family. When Y/N brought this up, her friend scolded her, saying that ‘My father has insisted, I’m afraid. You are his ward, and he has grown to think of you as his own.’ 

Now, she sat beside Rhaenyra while the ceremony took place, sneaking glances at the brides brother. Rhaenyra had picked out Y/N's dress herself, saying that she needed something worthy of a princess. She was not one to argue and let the Princess do whatever she wanted as long as she was distracted from the day at hand.

Arm in arm with the Princess, she dreaded when they finally reached the hall and had to congratulate the ‘happy’ couple. Poor Alicent, married at fifteen, was not something she wished on her worst enemy. Especially to a man twenty years your senior. The doors opened wide, the crowd quieting at the sight of the princess and her companion. Among that crowd was Gwayne, staring at her with desperate eyes. 

Her cheeks turned pink, quickly breaking the contact. Chatter quickly filled the hall once more as Rhaenyra reached the top of the steps, curtsying quickly. “Congratulations, step-mother. Father.” 

Y/N shivered. Rhaenyra's tone was as cold as the Wall. She wanted to curse her friend for making her go after that display. She sunk to the floor, bowing her head. “Many happy returns, My Queen, My King.” 

Viserys smiled gratefully. “Thank you Y/N. You have been a loyal friend to my daughter and wife. I shall not forget it.” 

The young girl nodded, equally disgusted and horrified at what the king had just said. Surely he realized how immoral it was. “Of course Your Grace. I live to serve and provide assistance to my Princess.” 

She released a breath she hadn’t known she was holding, sitting down beside Rhaenyra. “Could you at least have tried to be nice?” 

“I was.” The princess raised an eyebrow, and Y/N almost laughed, realizing her friend was being serious. 

“Of course. A jest, my lady.” 

Rhaenyra laughed. “So formal.” 

“We are at a wedding, Rhaenyra. It would be inappropriate for me to call you anything other than my lady, by the court's standards.” 

“Well I am the princess, and I say you call me Rhaenyra.” 

“Very well.” Y/N smiled, taking a large sip of her wine. “This will be an entertaining night.” 

Besides the occasional snide comment thrown at the obviously overwhelmed bride, the night had been otherwise peaceful. Y/N tried her best to sway Rhaenyra from attacking the queen outright, and she’d been successful. So far. She’d been in the middle of listening to Rhaenyra’s adventure of gathering the stolen dragon egg from her uncle when a cough interrupted. 

“Excuse me, Princess.” The pair turned around to see Gwayne staring at Y/N not Rhaenyra. Odd. He had addressed Rhaenyra, not her. “May I ask the Lady for a dance?” 

Y/N widened her eyes, looking in between the two. She was sure Rhaenyra would say no or burst out in flames from having to talk to Alicent’s brother, but she simply nodded her head, going back to her meal. Gwayne extended his hand, leading her to the dancefloor. He whispered as they moved, keeping in mind the intruding ears that surrounded them. “I have missed your company, my lady.” 

“I have missed yours as well.” 

“I know much has happened since we last spoke, but it has not deterred me. If anything, it has made me realize that I cannot stand to be apart from you.” Her cheeks turned pink for the second time that night. 

“You are very kind, Gwayne.” 

“Yes, well, it is not hard when you are the one I compliment.” He shook his head. “I am returning to Old Town soon. In two weeks time, after my sister settles into her new life.”

Her heart fell, eyes watering. “I hope your journey is swift.” She gulped, mumbling. “I shall miss you in truth.” 

He tilted his head, smiling. If she were not in a public place, she would admonish him for smiling at her pain. “What I mean to say is, I am infatuated with you. And I would like to seek your hand in marriage. From the king of course.” 

She gasped, her eyes widening. “I beg your pardon?” 

“I would like to marry you.” He spoke softly, now fully grinning. “If you would have me. You do not have to say yes, but I assure you, your affection for me will grow with time.”

“With time? Gwayne, I-” Y/N whispered so quietly she wasn’t even sure she’d spoken. “I have already grown to admire you. Much more than a friend should. That is no concern of mine.” 

“Ah.” The knight nodded. “Well, that settles it then.” 

“Settles what?” 

“We are to be married.” 

“Yes, well…” She sighed. “You cannot propose to me at your sister’s wedding. It would be improper.” 

“Damn impropriety.” He hissed, twirling you as the dance required. “Praytell, when would be a proper time then?” 

“Any other day, my love.” 

He stopped in the middle of the dance floor, her face growing red. “Gwayne people are looking.” 

He seemingly did not hear her. “My love.” 

“If you are going to tease me-” 

“You called me, my love.” 

“Gwayne…” She whined, gesturing to the prying eyes. “Can we please leave the floor? People will start to wonder…” 

“I desperately want to kiss you.” 

Thank the Seven the dance ended then. She bowed quickly. “Thank you for the dance, my lord.” Rushing back to her seat, she stared at the table, shock running through her veins. 

“Did he propose then?” 

Y/N whipped her head over, glaring at her friend. “You knew?” 

“Of course I knew. Y/N, I’ve known he was going to propose since I saw him approach you at my mother’s funeral.” 

“Rhaenyra, I’m so sorry.” 

“Whatever for?” 

“I don’t want you to feel betrayed. I had no intention of-” 

“Do not apoligize to me.” She placed her hand in Y/N's. “You are my friend. I am happy for you, truly. He is a good man, he will treat you well. I know it.”

“I haven’t said yes, Rhaenyra.” 

“Yet.” Her friend laughed. “You haven’t said yes, yet.”